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lumosinlove · 2 months ago

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Vaincre

Finals part ii

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 11:00 PM

There was a roar in Logan’s ears. He didn’t know where to turn first, numb and frozen and disbelieving. He didn’t know anything, and he knew it all. He wondered how it had happened, and he’d seen the entire thing. His cheek throbbed and he tried to look around, anywhere, tried to find them, even though he knew they wouldn’t be here. They’d be in the stands. They’d be waiting for him. Logan dropped to a knee and let out his first real breath all game.

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 4:30 PM

Logan adjusted the bill of his hat where Luke had knocked it askew down against the back of his neck to try and keep him from seeing the soccer ball they were kicking around in one of the clearer parts of the inner arena.

“D’accord,” Logan said, hand over his head. “That’s cheating.”

“You just tripped me,” Luke countered. “Which, by the way, if Coach saw you do that—”

“So, what did she say?” Logan interrupted. He looked pointedly to Percy as the soccer ball came his way. Luke rolled his eyes.

“What?” Percy asked, but he was grinning.

“Fuck off, you know what,” Luke said.

“When you finally asked Cassie out.”

Percy’s sigh was long and drawn out even as he laughed softly. Logan could see him doing that in OKN’s kitchen, on the road, in the various drab dining rooms of different hotels, and on long midnight bus rides. It was the same sound, the same laugh, the same face. His strawberry-blond hair and its usual tighter curls had been turned fluffy by his post-practice shower.

“Ah…” Percy said slowly. “I haven’t exactly asked her yet.”

“Marsh,” Alex shouted. “Jesus, dude, she likes you.”

“I am just a man,” Percy shouted back, still laughing. “You try looking at someone like her and asking her to spend time with you.” He held up a hand and began ticking off things he said by lowering a finger. “Cassie Baker, Cas-sie Ba-ker is smart, and gorgeous, and accomplished, and funny. And she always has been, since the moment I met her.” He pointed at Logan. “And before you freak out, you emotional French Canadian human, yes, it is fine that you dated her. But back to my original point: I am just a man who is fairly accomplished with sticks and ice cubes.”

“My God,” Alex said. “We should be better friends.”

“Please,” Percy replied. “Sir, come on.”

“Why haven’t you asked her?” Logan said. “She’s so—She’s so…”

He was met with multiple sets of raised eyebrows.

Logan didn’t know if it was really a lack of words, or English, or just that time had gone by that kept him from being able to properly describe Cassie Baker. She had been there, desiring him, through the start of a new part of his life. She’d kept him from feeling like a failure after a bad class, or a bad game—even, without her knowing, after a bad night spent wondering why he kept thinking about the freckles over Finn’s arms, and the moment earlier that day he’d wrapped one of those arms around his waist. She’d loosened his tense, guarded ways. She might, now that Logan was thinking about it, have been the reason he felt like he could kiss Finn in the dark back bedroom, that very first time. Might have been the reason he had been bold enough—when he was bold in nothing else—to guide their hips together and get Finn off.

“Hello?” Percy said. “Why do you have your Finn face on all of a sudden? What were you gonna say?”

“I…” Logan shook his head, dazed. “I mean—she’s fucking kind. She’s the best. Ask her, Perc.”

“He’s scared,” Saint said. He wasn’t kicking the soccer ball around with them. He never did. Wouldn’t touch the thing. He hung out and stretched close by though, usually near Luke’s side of their circle.

Percy scoffed. “Wow. Way to call me out, Saint.”

Saint shrugged, reaching back for an ankle to stretch towards the back of his thigh. “People as loud as you usually are.”

“She’s not scary,” Logan said.

“Girls are definitely scary,” Alex said. “But, like, it a good way.” He gave a mock little shiver and grinned. “In like a, what the hell’s gonna happen next way.”

Percy let out a soft ha. He kept his eyes on the soccer ball, which he balanced on the flat laces of his sneaker. “I—yeah. But. I mean, she could definitely say no. And I would rather be her friend than have her say no.”

“She could also say yes,” Logan pointed out.

“Yeah, well…” Percy gave the ball a little boost with a flick of his toe and kicked it in a gentle arc to Logan, who caught it on his sneaker likewise. “Saint’s right. I’m a chicken, Tremblay.” He adjusted his hat over his curls. “This chicken is now going to run a few laps.”

Logan frowned, watching him go. Percy Marshall was a lot of things. Afraid wasn’t something that would have made Logan’s list.

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 11:00 PM

Luke could hardly hear the crowd—or maybe it was all he could hear. Someone put a tight arm around his shoulder, then released him. Sweat dripped off his hair and down his neck. He was soaked through, overheated, wanted water so badly he was sure he could drink the entire tank of Gatorade the staff kept for them. But he wasn’t tired. He was a live wire with dangerous sparks at its end, trying to piece those last moments back together in his mind.

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 5:30 PM

Alex leaned his back against the doorframe to the lounge, using its solid edge to dig into a particularly sore spot on his shoulder while he waited for Natalie or Kasey to notice him. For now, he was content watching the way Natalie talked with her hands. He didn’t have all the time in the world, but he wanted to see the families milling around. There were his own parents, along with Finn and Leo, talking to Logan’s. Logan’s mother and Leo had their arms around each other’s waists and were laughing heartily about something with glasses of wine in their hands. Percy’s parents had been caught up by Will’s family it seemed, and they were showing something to each other on their phones and miming their hands in a way that made Alex think they must be talking about food. Maybe where they’d get dinner another day this week.

Alex crossed his arms and looked back to his two. Kasey was already looking at him.

“Kasey Winter,” Alex mouthed, and unwound one of his arms to crook his finger, telling Kasey to come to him.

Kasey bit the inside of his cheek against one of his hidden smiles and excuse himself from the conversation. Alex watched him walk over. He pulled a last sip from the ice of his drink before setting it down.

“Your face gets sexy when you’re chewing ice,” Alex said by way of hello.

“I took too much,” Kasey said around the sound of crunching. “It’s cold.”

“Root Beer?” Alex asked.

“The most underrated drink,” Kasey said. “Saving my more celebratory drinks for later.”

Alex slugged him in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you just fucking said that.”

Kasey just smiled. He leaned forward, hesitated for only a moment to look at Alex’s face, and then ducked slightly to give him a quick kiss. A zing of a kiss. Chilled from the ice. Alex felt ten times more awake.

“Feel ready?” Kasey asked.

Alex raised a brow. “Do you feel ready?”

“No, I feel like I’m already on pins and needles.”

Alex laughed. “Well, I like to keep you on your toes. It’s a goal in life.”

“Don’t we know it.” Natalie slid against his side and put her hand out. “Look.”

Alex gently took her hand in his to better see her red and blue nails. “Very pretty. All for me?”

“I like dressing up for games, what can I say?”

Alex glanced at Kasey as he ducked to press a kiss to Natalie’s temple. Her hair was swept back into a high ponytail and curled. “Just for games?”

“For you, Alexander,” Natalie said, putting a hand behind his neck. “Feel ready?”

Kasey laughed. “I already asked him.”

“Uh-huh, and he probably didn’t answer.”

Kasey made an exaggerated hm noise. “Come to think of it, he didn’t.”

“I’m ready, I’m ready.” Alex pressed a quick kiss to Natalie’s mouth. “And I gotta go, baby.” He leaned forward to to wrap a tight arm around Kasey’s shoulders and turned his mouth close to his ear. “You should watch me now, then watch me and Nat later.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kasey laughed softly. But then he pressed his hand low on Alex’s back.

Alex grinned. He gave Natalie’s blond hair a gentle tug as he passed, and felt alone in the hallway, like he always did when he left them.

He only made it a few steps before he heard footsteps behind him, jogging to catch up. When he turned, expecting Kasey by the lack of heels clicking against the floor, he found his little brother.

“Ah, goldfish cracker,” Alex said. When Finn just looked at him, frown in place, he put a hand on his shoulder. “Hi, you good, or—”

“These games,” Finn said softly. “They get rough. Tonight especially. It’s all on the line, Al.”

“You’re telling me.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Alex.”

“I know,” Alex said. Some days, some mornings, he woke up unable to rest until he knew that Finn was all right. Sometimes he’d had a dream about the concussion. Some days he just needed to know. “I know.”

“Just be careful,” Finn said.

“You gonna celebrate with me tonight? No matter what?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Not gonna let Logan hog you?”

“Well—no promises. He’s very convincing.”

“You mean you wouldn’t be able to resist him if he…” Alex sighed. “I can’t even think of anything he could do.”

“Sounds right,” Finn said. He put both hands on Alex’s shoulders. “Hey. Love you. Kick their ass, all right? For our seven year old selves.”

Alex laughed as he watched Finn back up to return to the lounge. “Sure thing, Fish.”

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 5:30 PM

Logan was on the stationary bike when his phone lit up. Leo.

Finn is with his parents but I’m just around locker room corner—kiss? xx

Logan nearly tripped getting off the bike. He stumbled on the pedals and hopped on one foot before catching himself on the handlebars of Luke’s.

“What the fuck just happened to you?” Luke asked.

“Be right back,” Logan called, already headed towards the door.

Cooing, he typed back to Leo, then cursed and tried to type correctly as he jogged out of the gym. Coming

Rounding the corner to see Leo leaning against the wall was more than Logan could have hoped for. He wore a blue sweater, one of the soft, thin cashmere ones he’d allowed himself to spend more money on than usual. Look, Lo, he’d said in the store. Feel how soft.

Logan had made him blush when he’d pushed the sleeve up and ran his fingers along Leo’s skin instead.

“Hi,” Leo smiled when he saw him. Logan reached out for him and Leo walked right into his arms, leaning down to press their cheeks together.

“Salut,” Logan said. “Thanks for coming all the way down here. Everyone in the box?”

“Just about.” Leo nosed at his jaw. “Thought maybe I could shut your brain off for a couple minutes.”

“That sounds good,” Logan said.

Leo’s kiss was playful. Logan let himself be pressed back against the wall by Leo’s tall form. The shadow he cast was like shade on a warm day. Logan felt like he never had to move again, especially when Leo ducked down further, deepened the kiss, and brushed his tongue into his mouth. Logan caught his hips, tucking his hands right under that soft sweater just like he had that day in the store.

Leo was true to his word. Logan’s mind hummed into quiet. The only pressure was Leo’s body against his. He wanted him closer. He withdrew his hands to press up on his toes and put his arms around Leo’s neck, carding his fingers through his hair as he sucked gently on Leo’s lower lip before letting Leo kiss him properly again.

“I—“ Logan broke off in a laugh. “I’m, maybe—Mm…” Logan held Leo closer, arching up into another one of his kisses that threatened to fold him right up. “Merde—Le—je t’aime, wait, je t’aime…”

Heat had begun to course through him, and if he didn’t stop Leo now, he never would.

Leo just smiled against his mouth. “They keep showing locker room shots on the broadcast they’re playing in the lounge.” Leo’s voice sounded shaky, like he was just as wound up as Logan. “And I’m standing there trying to talk to all these parents while you’re behind them on TV with your shirt off…” He brought one of Logan’s hands to his mouth and kissed his wrist, then his palm. “Taping a stick with these hands…Fuck, Lo.”

Logan leaned up and kissed him again. He tasted like tequila and lime. He must have had something with it at dinner, or in the lounge.

Leo broke the kiss with a reluctant sound and pressed a softer one to Logan’s overheated cheek.

“You’re right,” he whispered. “Sorry, I’m just suddenly…” He ran a knuckle along the collar of Logan’s t-shirt. “It’s strange, to see you ready to play when we’re not.” His hand traveled down Logan’s chest, over the Rangers logo on his sweatshirt, under the hem, where his thumb tucked just barely below the spandex shorts Logan wore beneath his sweatpants. “Though watching is not without its perks.”

Logan flatted Leo’s warm hand against his stomach and held it there.

“How was dinner?” Logan asked. He didn’t like being left behind from dinner with his and Finn’s families, but he knew he had a game to prepare for. He had received a photograph of Finn and Leo being hugged by all of his sisters. Noelle had sent him another of her and Leo cheering glasses, and another of Finn kissing her cheek. He didn’t know which one to make the lock screen of his phone.

“It was really fun. I love your sisters so much. And your mom.” Leo ran a hand through Logan’s hair. “She kept rubbing my back of brushing Finn’s hair back, or Noelle’s or something. I’m not even sure she knew she was doing it.” He put his hand back where Logan had placed it, running it up to his chest. “No wonder you like being touched so much.”

Logan sank a little more into his side. “I think I like being touched by you a little differently.”

Leo leaned down to rest their foreheads together. “I think so, too.”

They both took a few breaths, hands still clasped, Leo’s thumb ran soothing strokes over Logan’s skin.

“Feeling good?” he asked.

“Mm,” Logan nodded, not enough to part them, and closed his eyes. He did feel good. Endorphins raced through him. Even the nagging burn of Leo’s pleasure wasn’t uncomfortable. It was like a little push.

“Got something for you,” Leo whispered.

Logan opened his eyes, interested. “A present?”

Leo laughed, reaching into his shirt. “It’s not really a present. Though I expect you’ll get a few later tonight.”

He withdrew the fleur-de-lis from around his own neck and slipped it over Logan’s head.

“Meant to give it to you earlier,” Leo said. He kissed the pendant before letting it rest over Logan’s chest. “Good luck, okay? Be safe. You know where we’re sitting?”

“Ouais,” Logan said. When Leo folded him into his arms, Logan inhaled deeply and let every muscle in his body relax. “I’ll find you.”

When he was back in the locker room, he savored the feeling of the pendant dropping against his bare chest as he pulled his sweatshirt and shirt over his head to dress for the game. It was still warm from Leo’s skin. In his stall, his phone lit up again, this time from Finn.

It was a photograph of a television, where he saw his own back.

Hi, Finn wrote. I find you so hot, I don’t know what to do with myself.

Logan looked over his shoulder, found the camera, and grinned.

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 6:30 PM

Luke had a bit of a plan. Maybe he wouldn’t exactly call it a plan, but he had something he wanted. He kept an eye on the clock, on Saint getting dressed, buckling his pads. He listened as the rest of the boys got louder, more riled, as their walk down the tunnel to the ice got closer. Logan was laughing hard at something Alex was saying. Luke pushed his helmet down over his head, adjusting the tightness. It didn’t matter how hard his heart was pounding. Saint would lead them out tonight. And there would be no catching him alone after that.

He accidentally caught Logan’s eye as he made his way towards Saint’s stall. There must have been something in his face, because Logan put a hand out for him to clasp.

“Good?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Luke said, bringing their palms together and squeezing briefly. “See you in a bit.”

Saint had his mask perched on his head. He was examining his blocker, streaked with black from the rubber of the puck. He only glanced up when Luke stopped in front of him.

“Tweedle,” Saint said in a soft voice. “We’re all dressed up.”

Luke put a hand on the stall divider and leaned down until Saint looked up at him.

“Come with me,” Luke said.

Saint didn’t look up from his blocker. He only switched to checking the netting of his glove. “All right.”

Saint put his mask over his head and brought his stick, as if Luke was merely going to speak with him for a moment. Well, what Luke had to say would take a moment, but Saint didn’t need his mask for it.

He checked to make sure Saint was behind him. He lumbered a bit in his gear, but kept up.

“Are you okay?” Saint asked through the bars of his cage.

“You didn’t need your mask for this,” Luke said once they were alone.

Saint’s eyes flicked up. “You’re wearing your helmet.”

“Well—” Luke began, then cut off. He cleared his throat, looking between Saint’s brown-gold eyes. “What was all that with Percy earlier?”

“What happened with Percy earlier?”

Luke huffed. He was messing with him.

“‘People as loud as you usually are,’” Luke repeated his words back at him. “Scared.”

Saint tilted his head. “What did I mean?”

“Yeah.”

“I…” Saint opened his mouth, then closed it. “Nothing bad. You think he’s angry with me, I’m guessing.”

“No,” Luke said. “No, I don’t think he was angry, I’m just asking…What about the quiet ones?”

“What about them?”

Luke smiled slightly, giving his head a shake. This was Saint in full force. Driving him insane. He could drive him insane right back.

“I’m not loud.” Luke took his helmet off, letting it drop to the floor. “And I’m scared. Or I was, for a long time. Terrified the first time I saw you. The first time you kissed me.”

Saint’s eyes tracked the motion, resting on the helmet by Luke’s feet. “You’re…a special case.”

“Why?”

“You just are.” Saint looked back at him. “You were scared?”

“I want something.”

Behind his mask, confusion bloomed all over Saint’s face. He glanced in the direction of the locker room. “Tw—Luke…What?”

Luke shook his head once. “I mean, I want to say something.”

“I said what I said to Percy. It’s not a rule, I just…” Saint began, looking almost frustrated. “It was true. It’s hard enough to get what you want in life without people not even trying. It’s hard to…” Saint nearly rolled his eyes. “You are quiet. You’re also very difficult.”

“I know I am. So are you.”

Saint looked at his mouth, and Luke swore he leaned in, just a little.

“The thing about you is…” Luke pressed his lips together in an unsure motion. “I have no idea if you’re quiet, or if you’re loud.”

Saint said nothing.

“You don’t talk that much. And then when you do, you’re kind of brutal about it, but I don’t think that’s because you’re afraid at all, I think it’s because you’re not.” Slowly, Luke put his hands on either side of Saint’s mask. It was a new one, made from the deep blue color of the Rangers, Saint’s name written across the front below the cage. “Quiet, loud, I don’t care. You just have to look at me and it’s the loudest thing in the room. In the world.”

Luke was fairly certain Saint was no longer breathing. His shoulder pads were still.

“Seb…” Luke whispered. He put his thumb over Saint’s name. He began to lift the mask from his face. “I—”

Saint’s hand flew up and stopped Luke’s with a tight grip on his wrist. His eyes were wide. Bright. Something close to tears, but he wasn’t crying. Something close to fear, but not quite.

“You choose right now, when we’re about to go down that tunnel to the most important game of our lives to…”

He trailed off, but his voice wavered at the end.

“Yeah, I do,” Luke said.

Slowly, enjoying the way Saint watched him, Luke leaned forward and kissed the mask. The cage’s bars were cold against his lips. Saint’s tawny eyes had not moved away from his.

“I choose right now,” Luke said softly. “But I’ll chose later, too, if that’s what you want.”

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 8:30 PM

“What does my Finn face look like?”

There was six minutes left in the second period, and Logan wasn’t sure he was even going to be able to catch a break during a two minute TV break. Both sides were playing like hell, and Madison Square Garden, the New York crowd, was like wildfire.

Percy swished water around in his mouth and spit it back on the ice. “Like someone either just smacked you really hard or gave you a million dollars. Or like someone just smacked you really hard with a million dollars.” Percy considered. “Come to think of it, you actually have been both smacked really hard and probably earned a million dollars in the last few minutes. So I should think of a new metaphor.”

Logan smiled and looked up towards the crowd. A sea of blue. Will slid onto the bench beside them. Logan bumped their shoulders together. Will had a fresh cut over his nose, courtesy of one of Colorado’s defensemen.

“What’s up?” Logan asked.

Will’s mouthguard hung halfway out of his mouth and he chewed on it idly. “I’m thinking that your O’Hara mind-reading applies to extended family. And we should use it.”

They went back out onto the ice with a plan—a plan Logan had used so many times it was practically muscle memory. Luckily, he still only had to glimpse the edges of red hair from his peripheral vision. Logan told Alex what to do, covering his mouth with his glove, and Alex nodded.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

It almost worked. Logan had the puck on his tape, ready to drop it back to Alex when the next thing he knew he was being slammed into the boards.

He felt the cool waft of the ice near his neck as he landed on his back. He groaned and pushed himself up, righting his helmet on his head as he chased after 54, who had done it.

As soon as he touched the puck, Logan threw his shoulder forward, dug his skate into the ice, and sent 54 sprawling.

“Tremz!” Alex shouted, and Logan scooped up the puck and shot it across the ice. Then it went to Percy, then Alex, as they pushed back up the ice. Alex nearly missed Percy’s arrow of a pass, and then a Colorado defensemen only just managed to intercept the puck. He didn’t knock it free of it’s path, though. It ricochetted, and Logan lost sight of its path for only a moment before the red light in Colorado’s goal lit up.

The New York crowd roared, but it was muted just as quickly when the whistle blew. Logan’s smile slowly melted from his face as the referee pointed to the Colorado bench.

“What?” Logan shouted to the referee, skating up beside him. “Fucking what?”

“Language, Tremblay,” the referee said. “Coach’s challenge. And you know what else—that bullet of a hit of yours.”

Logan rolled his eyes and took his mouth guard out. “Oh, come on. He was in my numbers, too, everyone is tonight, I’m allowed.”

But the referee only waved him off, already talking into his headset. Logan scowled after him, but skated back towards his own bench.

“Colorado’s challenging the goal,” Luke said. “Said Marshy kicked it in.”

“Bullshit,” Percy scoffed. “It just hit my foot. It’s not my fault my foot was there.”

“And they’re thinking about giving me two because of my hit,” Logan hissed. “It was clean.”

“It was,” Luke said.

“He started it.”

“Calm down,” Luke laughed.

“What Dev said.” Percy shook his head. “Ya fucking fireball. Gotta douse you with one of those metal hats—those things, you know?”

Luke squirted water into his mouth. “A snuffer.”

Percy shook his head. “That’s what you clean floors with.”

“Swiffer.”

“It was a clean hit,” Logan said again, just as the referee pushed back out to center ice.

“The call on the ice stands,” he boomed over his microphone, and he put his arms out, though the crowd was already roaring. “We have a good goal.”

They left the second period ahead of Colorado, but a two goal lead was the fragilest thing in the world, and Logan didn’t feel anything other than urgency as they left the ice. He’d also left with a fresh, blooming bruise. His cheek throbbed, his knee, but all he saw was those twenty minutes more.

“Logan,” one of the assistant coaches said. “Intermission interview.”

Logan looked down the hallway, breathing hard, to where Cassie was discussing something with her camera crew.

“Take Percy,” he said, taking his helmet off.

Through the tunnel, Logan broke away from the team and the cameras, and was about to take the three steps up towards the PT room, only then someone grabbed his arm. He found his back set gently against the wall, and then he was being kissed. It was a kiss that he knew in his bones.

Finn Finn FinnFinnFinn.

“Nice,” Finn said in a low, happy voice. He glanced sideways towards a passing aid, who was politely keeping her eyes ahead and fighting back a smile. “Being able to do that.”

“Do it again,” Logan said.

Finn laughed. He brushed another kiss over Logan’s mouth. “I love when you follow the ref. Love when you get all like that. Love it…”

“He started it,” Logan mumbled, more interested in the flush on Finn’s cheeks—his ears.

“You okay?” Finn thumbed lightly over the fresh cut over Logan’s cheek. “You look good out there. That was a clean hit, I don’t care what the refs say. It was a solid play, your play, just like always. Can’t stand watching you get hit, makes me want to—”

“It was our play.” Logan turned his chin down into Finn’s palm. “You know?”

Finn gave him a lopsided smile. “Baby…”

“You know it was ours. You saw?”

“I saw.” Finn shook his head, still smiling. He kissed the corner of Logan’s mouth. “Of course I saw.”

Logan was nearly his height with his skates on, but he stepped halfway up the three stairs so he was taller and wrapped Finn up in his arms. He didn’t care if he was sweaty or had snow on him from the ice. He kissed the side of Finn’s temple and felt Finn touch where his necklace had come out of the neck of his jersey.

“Le?” Finn questioned.

“Yeah, Le.”

Finn rested his forehead against Logan’s jaw.

“You got this,” Finn whispered. When Logan looked down, he saw Finn had his eyes closed. Peaceful. “I can see it. All that fire you got in you.”

Logan smiled, letting his eyes slip closed, too. “Perc and Luke say it’s too much.”

Finn’s reply, whispered against the sweat cooling on his neck, drew a pleasant chill over Logan’s skin.

“I like it.”

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 8:45 PM

“I don’t know about you,” Percy said. “But I think they paired us up again because they want to hear the rest of the story.”

Cassie laughed. She had a small compact mirror out and was carefully adjusting the wing of her eyeliner, but snapped it shut and turned to him. “I guess they’ll have to live in suspense.”

Percy knew he certainly did. Snowy nights and street lamps showing blizzard flakes and wheels spinning on ice.

“Did you see my goal?” he asked instead.

“We’re going to be live in ten seconds.”

“Yeah, but were you watching?”

Cassie had a ready smile in place, eyes towards the camera. “Of course I was, that’s my job.”

“Did you think it was pretty?”

“It went off your foot and they reviewed it for a kicking motion.”

“But I didn’t kick. I would know.”

“No, you didn’t kick.”

“So, say it was pretty cause it was.”

“Thanks, guys,” Cassie said brightly to the voice in her earpiece. “I’m here with Percy Marshall who scored the goal to tie it up at the end of the second. Pretty tense moment, there, Percy, what do you think you guys have to do to keep your lead in the third?”

“I think we have to keep doing what we’re doing. We’re a team with a lot of strengths, very star-studded, with O’Hara, Tremblay, Montague… We have a lot of options, and we’re using every single one of them.”

Cassie directed the microphone back to herself. “I noticed you didn’t include yourself there among the stars.”

The microphone came back to him. Percy swallowed, and let his usual smile pass over his face easily.

“I’m no star. I’m what they call blood and guts.” He let his eyes flick down to her mouth, just for a moment. “At least when it comes to hockey.”

Cassie stared up at him for a moment, smile still in place, but softer. More for him. “I—thank you, Percy.”

Percy flashed the camera a smile. “Uh-huh.”

“And off,” said the woman waiting behind the camera. She flashed Cassie a thumbs up and then shuffled off with the camera man somewhere. It left them alone, if only briefly, and Percy’s heart kicked into drive.

Why, why had he been so much better at this in college?

Cassie was looking at him. He looked back

“It wasn’t a pretty goal,” she said. “But last game. The one you scored in the second…that was pretty.”

“Thanks,” Percy said. Then a question came tumbling out of him. “Is it weird being around us again?”

“Weird?”

“Will, Logan…” Me.

Wouldn’t be the first time I saved you, though, would it?

He’d meant to make her laugh. He hadn’t saved her, and now he felt stupid for saying it, saying it on television. It had been a snow storm, it had been a drive home, it had been—

They both looked away.

“No,” Cassie said. She was scuffing the heel of her boot lightly against the floor. She’d always done that. Percy could suddenly see her in those tight little dresses she used to love, one toe pointed up, heel down, tapping against a beer-sticky floor while she talked to Logan.

“It’s nice,” she continued. “You guys were always so wonderful. And I regretted when Logan and I—you know, when we broke it off. I mean, I get what was going on now, and I don’t—I’m not mad or anything.” She looked up at him. “Did you know? Finn and Logan.”

Percy leaned back against the wall, blowing out a breath. “That’s a very loaded question. Know-know? No. But…I mean, yeah, I knew they…”

He thought of Logan tearing out of the house after Finn left. Finn’s car skidding back into the driveway, his red eyes, tear-streaked cheeks. Nothing. I just thought I forgot something.

“It’s okay,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “It’s not my business, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, no,” Percy said. “You were caught up in them just like the rest of us. It’s all right. Happy ending, right?”

Cassie smiled, eyes flitting to his, then away. “Yeah.”

Percy glanced down the hallway where he could see the coaching staff heading into the locker room.

“Well, I gotta…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassie laughed, then cleared her throat. “Okay. Good luck. Do something pretty out there.”

Percy’s laugh came out a little high-pitched, even to himself. “Yeah, I—I’ll try. Thanks.”

He made it half way to the locker room doors before he heard her voice.

“Hey, Marshall.”

Percy looked over his shoulder. Cassie was biting at the inside of her cheek, idly tapping her microphone against her thigh.

“Hey, Baker,” Percy said softly.

Cassie smiled at the old routine. Old jokes and unfinished business, that’s what Percy thought they were.

“I don’t know if I would exactly call it you saving my life,” she said. “But I do remember.”

Percy’s insides were melting. He knew no one else knew what they were talking about, but he’d felt such elation, such guilt that night, that he swore the memories had rolled out in scrolls at his feet.

“Do you?” Cassie shifted back a step, twisting one heel of her boot against the rubber they set down over the floor for their skates. “Remember?”

“Cassie Baker,” Percy sighed, settling his helmet back on his head. “If I ever forget a single thing about you, you can tell the world to go ahead and say I’ve lost my mind.”

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 10:45 PM

Logan burned. His lungs. His thighs. His knuckles. It had been a short, swing of a fight with a number 34, and when the guy had tried to put Logan on his back after taking his helmet off with a hard swing, Logan thought of Finn’s head, gorgeous and fragile, and he had seen red. Logan sent 34 to his knees with a rough shove to his shoulder. He’d caught some of his breath back in the two minutes he spent in the box, ice on his wrist, and now he was breathing hard waiting to take the face-off.

He waved off the beckons back to the bench. He breathed deep through his nose. He put his mouth guard back in.

He tried to pretend the only reason he was working this hard was to win a Cup.

He wished his boys were on the ice with him, not in the stands. He wanted Finn, tall and lean in his skates, talking fast in his ear, and Leo at his back in the net.

Home.

He needed this to get him home, and he needed it not to go to overtime. He needed this finished.

5-5 in the third with the clock winding down. Five goals: Alex, Percy, Logan, Logan, Alex.

Three times to show he meant it, that’s what he needed.

He gave his stick a flick of a twirl in his loose gloves and bent for the face-off.

There was nothing faster than play-off hockey. Sometimes, Logan thought he’d been born for it. He flexed his fingers in his gloves and imagined himself on the lake near his parents’ home. It’s where he put the pressure away. He sank into memory. He reached for something to set his blood roaring and found the image of how Jack Archer looked at Leo there waiting. His heart thundered. He dug his skate edges into the ice harder, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.

“I know you’re counting the seconds, boys. It’s nothing at all and it’s an eternity,” the referee said as he held out the puck. “But let’s play nice now. If you win it, you want to win it fair.”

Neither player replied. Maybe 45 was fast, but Logan stole the puck right out from the dot when the referee dropped it. He didn’t have to think, not in moments like these. Not when he could feel Will behind him, catching Logan’s win, hear Percy tapping the ice for his pass.

Colorado intercepted. Logan skated hard and drove his shoulder into the pick-pocket’s side right at the blue line. It let Alex get the puck. The crowd shrieked.

Alex hit the post. Logan swore the pinging sound echoed through the entire team. It made him gasp as he skated for the bench. He fell down beside Luke, breathing so hard he had to lean over and cough.

Luke slapped his back. “Atta boy, Tremz.”

The whistle blew as Colorado sent the puck dinging off the glass and into the crowd.

“Fuck me,” Alex shouted as he came to the bench, slamming the door after him hard.

“It was a good shot,” Logan said.

Alex’s laugh was breathless and he stole Logan’s water. “It was an almost shot.”

Five minutes.

It was nothing at all, and an eternity. Logan looked up, looked for red and gold.

It was impossible to see them, but he imagined he could. He found that his pendant had come out of his jersey and, eyes still raised, brought it to his lips and kissed it before tucking it away again.

Home. It was irrational, it wasn’t true, likely, but he still felt that if he did this, if he helped pull the Rangers into victory, he could ask for anything he wanted. He’d served his purpose. Home.

“You have 29,” Logan said to Luke. “I’m going to go around.”

“I know,” Luke said. “I’m with you.”

But the referees were calling nothing at this late stage. At three minutes, Logan found himself going shoulder first into the boards, pain flaring. He ignored it. He got up, there was no time. He made to hit his stick against the ice, calling for the puck again, but found the blade half snapped off. The bench was hollering at him as Logan skated hard towards it. He barely looked as he threw the broken stick towards the equipment manager and snatched the fresh one.

Luke had the puck, his eyes went to Logan. Every part of the stadium seemed to hush, but Logan knew that was only because the place was so loud. Logan could picture Finn with his hands in his hair, Leo gripping his arm. He could imagine his sisters screaming.

A defenseman tried to block Luke’s pass, but Luke lifted the puck just enough so it warbled through the air. Logan was afraid, for a moment, that he wasn’t going to be able to catch it like that. He needed to steady it somehow, he needed to undo its momentum.

Logan dug his skate into the ice, tracking as the puck found his tape, and immediately pulled himself into a fast turn. The puck steadied on his tape and Logan knew he was out of time. He could feel the screams, they rumbled his feet, the ice, but he couldn’t hear them. Only his heart.

Logan steadied his blade on the ice and, half-blind, shot.

Luke was there, ready to pick up a rebound. Alex was there, arms wide against a defenseman. The goaltender reached, glove wide.

But the puck hit home, the net rippling.

Logan shouted, or at least he thought he did. The sound tore out of his throat. He threw his stick, his gloves. It was all he had time for before Luke and Alex were slamming into him. He felt himself stumbling, held up by his teammates, still shouting. He clutched at their jerseys, felt Alex’s visor press against his. The arena shook, and he gasped, straining his head back to see. When the cameras caught this moment, he wanted the world to see who he looked for first.

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6: Saturday, 10:50 PM

Dog pile.

Luke stumbled over thrown equipment, hardly able to move with how tightly his team was pressed together. He clutched Logan’s shoulders. He allowed himself one more second of holding his best friend before he turned, looking wildly, trying to find—

And he was there. Shoving to the core of their huddle, glove, blocker, helmet somewhere left behind, his curls free. Saint reached for Luke. Jostled as they were by the other boys around them, Saint held onto Luke’s jersey, keeping them together.

“Seb,” Luke shouted, laughing. “You were amazing, you—Fuck, you were so—”

“You terrify me,” Saint shouted over the stadium’s roar. He was still breathing hard, sweat dripping in his eyes in a way that probably stung.

Luke thought his heart had already been pounding. He thought there had already been a few tears on his cheeks. But now…

“You do.” Saint cupped a hand around the back of Luke’s neck, the other pressing to his chest. “And I—love you. I love you.”

Luke did cry then. He hadn’t expected it, the first sob hiccuped out of him, then it was a laugh. He leaned down in the only half-hidden, joyful huddle of their team and brought their mouths together. Kissing Saint was hotter than the adrenaline fire in his blood.

Someone, Percy, Luke thought, hit him in the shoulder happily. When the parted, Saint was smiling at him. It was a grin Luke had seen all of once. So thoroughly unguarded. No masks, no performances.

“Well,” Saint said.

“I love you,” Luke could hardly speak. Hardly breathe. “Seb—”

Saint pushed into his arms, and then someone else hugged him, too. When Luke opened his eyes, Logan was there at their sides, grinning at him.

•

Someone had shoved a champion hat in his hands and Logan pushed back his sweaty hair and put it on, backwards.

“Where,” he mumbled to himself. He saw families. Will’s wife, his son, his parents, all embracing. He saw Percy’s parents. Natalie and Kasey. “Where…”

“Lolo,” Logan heard from behind him.

He grinned, barely had time to turn, before Noelle was in his arms. He held her force and clutched back.

“Lo,” Noelle said shakily in his ear. “Logan, you did—you fucking did it again, that was beautiful, Lo, that goal, fucking hat trick, that was so beautiful.”

She broke off, laughing, speechless.

Logan tucked his face into her neck. There were cameras on them, capturing the moment, and mics hanging like fruit above their lenses. Words pushed at him, words he wouldn’t say to Leo or Finn, in case they made him sound too hopeful—or not hopeful enough.

But to Noelle. To Noelle, he could say anything.

“Maybe I can go home now,” Logan said.

“Oh, Bear,” Noelle said softly. Her arms tighten around him. “I know. I know…”

“Where—”

“Right behind me.” Noelle released him, crying, grinning, and turned.

Finally, there they were.

They didn’t have to push their way through. The crowd parted around them. Everyone knew they were his, that they were coming for him.

Alex was closer, and Logan knew Finn wasn’t about to pass by his brother. Two identical grins, running at each other one moment, then hugging tightly the next.

Logan only had eyes for Leo. Logan put a hand on Noelle’s shoulder and squeezed, then skated hard through the crowd. Leo put his hands up as he ran gingerly on the ice, then scooped Logan right off his feet, skates and all, and held him tightly before setting him down again and pressing his smile to his cheek. It probably should have made Logan feel every single one of his injuries, being lifted like that, but he felt unbearably light.

“That goal,” Leo shouted. “Jesus, Lo, oh my God, your hands. The spin, the lift you got, I don’t even know how you did that—”

Logan kissed him, but he might as well have plunged them both underwater. His hearing went muffled. Leo felt so good in his hands, strong and kissing him back. Salt leaked in, Leo’s tears, Leo being kissed on the ice by him.

“I can’t believe…” Leo mumbled, but the words dissolved and he gripped Logan’s jersey, drawing it taught over his shoulder pads.

Logan broke the kiss only so he could see his face. His lips were parted, red, his blue eyes bright. Speechless. His gaze darted behind Logan, around them, and he began to shake his head, began to laugh.

“I can believe it,” Logan said. “‘Cause it’s you.”

Leo brought his fingertips to Logan’s mouth, then the cut on his cheek. Smiling. Pure and bright. He touched his own lips, as if he could feel what had just happened.

“We…”

Logan threw his arms around Leo’s neck. He kissed him again, this one short and easy like they’d kissed on the ice a million times. “So happy you’re here. Merci, soleil. I know this is—after everything—”

But Leo shook his head, grinning. “Oh, I love you. Of course we’re here, how could I miss that spin, and your face and—Lo, Harz and I just shouted our fucking lungs out. Lo, we just…” Leo leaned down and kissed him again. “God, lots of microphones around, I got a lot to say, but where—” He turned to look over his shoulder, clutching Logan to him as he searched—

And there was Finn, walking towards them, brown eyes already shining.

Leo released him only so Finn could take Logan gently in his arms.

“Look at him,” Leo said. “Look at him, Harz, look how happy.”

“God,” Finn’s voice broke, and he laughed, sniffling. “Are you hurt? Does that hurt?”

“Non,” Logan said, though he probably was, somewhere. “Non, I mean, can’t feel it.” Logan wanted Finn to hold him like this all the time. Hard, grasping, large palm warming the entirety of his flushed left cheek and jaw. And they were surrounded by people, Logan was wearing his uniform, on the ice, about to be handed the Stanley Cup for the second time in just two years, and Finn O’Hara was about to kiss him.

Finn didn’t say anything. He was probably thinking exactly what was going through Logan’s mind. He laughed, though, tears beginning to escape, and looked around, then back to Logan.

“If someone had tried to tell me, at nineteen…” Finn began. At the sound of how thick the tears were in his voice, Logan choked up, too. “My Lo.” He looked at Leo. “Le…I am the luckiest—”

Logan put his hands around Finn’s shoulders, leaned up, and kissed him. Finn’s tears were salty like Leo’s, and Logan was surprised to find that he himself wasn’t crying. He was so happy that he ached.

When he wrapped his arms around both of them, Finn tilted his head back and let out a loud, long whoop.

Leo’s answering smile was radiant and Logan hoped someone was taking photographs, anyone, of this. Of what was finally his.

“Now, I’ve won,” Logan said, clutching to them, and their answering laughs were a silver finer than anything. “We did it.”

Finn gripped Logan’s face, careful of the bruise, and made a low, growling sound that Logan supposed was him not knowing what to do with his happiness, how to contain his smile. He took Logan’s hat off, pushed his hand through his sweat-soaked hair, and settled it back on his head before using the bill to jostle Logan a little.

“God, Tremblay,” he said softly. “Love you forever.”

Leo’s mouth was close to his ear when he whispered, “MVP. At least in my book.”

Logan let himself close his eyes. He needed—and wanted—to see his family, but he just wanted to rest here for a moment. He wanted to feel Finn kiss his temple twice and Leo take his weight without question. Just the few moments had some of his adrenaline draining away, and Logan wanted them to take him somewhere and sleep for a year.

“None of that yet,” Leo said. “You got some heavy lifting to do still.”

“Alex,” Cassie Baker said. “How does it feel to be named the most valuable player to your team in this play-off run?”

Alex still felt like he could barely breathe, but he laughed, using the hem of his jersey to wipe champagne off his brow. “Got a shiny trophy and everything, huh?”

Cassie smiled at him. “Two trophies!”

“True, true. No, for real though, it’s—it’s a honor, but I’m nothing without these boys.” He motioned vaguely, but looked for a moment, trying to find familiar faces among the families in the crowded locker room. He could still feel the heft of the Cup as Percy had handed it off to him and he lifted it above his head. He could still see Logan’s grin as Alex had handed it off to him, then Logan to Luke, Luke to Saint. He found Finn, standing with his arms around Noelle and Aubrey, watching Logan being interviewed by another network. The floor was sticky, Alex’s entire face and hair was soaked with sweat and champagne and beer, but he was reluctant to take a shower. Natalie had jumped and locked her legs around his waist. Kasey was wearing his champion hat. Alex wouldn’t soon forget his grin as he took a swig from his own champagne bottle. Should I jump next?

“I can’t say enough about them,” Alex said. “And I won’t say this was an easy season. New faces, old friends, old faces, new friends. This team has become so close, but it was…” Alex laughed a little. “I don’t know, forge with fire, or whatever that saying is. Lots of wins feeling as rough as loses.”

Alex looked up to see that Finn was closer now, standing off camera, but listening. Cassie followed his gaze and smiled, too, but said nothing. Alex felt another hand thump him on the back. He didn’t see who it was, a teammate, a coach, a parent, but it felt good all the same.

“The thing with trades is you come to love people who might be your teammate one day and your opponent the next, and it’s difficult. But it’s lucky. There is so much…I’m just grateful to have everyone in this room in my life. On the ice, it’s a different world, we’re fighting so hard and—and it means everything when you’re on solid ground again to look around and find that there are twenty people waiting to celebrate with you.”

“You bring up trades, which you yourself went through this season, along with your old friend, Logan Tremblay. You both share a very tight connection with Gryffindor, who you knocked out of the playoffs this season. You’re being very modest, but I bet anything he would be able to give me ten reasons why you deserved this tonight. What was it like getting to be line mates with him?”

“Oh, Tremz is my—” Alex laughed as his eyes found Finn’s. Shouts went up and Alex caught a glimpse of the Cup being raised up, foaming beer sloshing out of it. Finn was smiling hard, rubbing at his jaw. “I don’t even know where to begin with that kid, he’s like a brother to me. We’ve shared good times, we’ve shared bad times, we…” Alex shook his head. “He makes my baby brother very happy, and so he makes me happy. And don’t even get me started on his game, he did things tonight I don’t think anyone can repeat, don’t even get me started, we’ll be here all night.”

Cassie laughed. “Final question, Alex, and then I’ll let you get back to celebrating. I just made eye contact with your brother you just mentioned, Finn, who plays for the Lions. There were a lot of Lions in the house today, including your old teammate Kasey Winter who you began your NHL career with here in New York. What did it mean to have him in the crowd?”

“Oh.” Alex heard his own voice break, and he laughed again, but felt it tremble. “You know, it’s…” Kasey was standing with Leo across the room, and both of their hands were out like they were discussing the goaltending of the game. Alex thought of that first locker room. Those brown eyes and big paw of a hand—he hadn’t quite grown into himself yet back then—stretching out to shake Alex’s pale one. That speeding drive, going faster than he’d ever admit, to reach the airport security check in time. Kase. Kase. Fucking, stop, Winter, wait—

“Oh,” Alex said again. “It’s—” He felt a sudden surge of protection over all of those stories, even against Cassie Baker’s kind eyes. “I’ll say this for now. It’s a big thing coming into this league. Bliz helped me settle into this life…” Alex swallowed. “Into myself. He retired this year, you know, that’s a big change for anyone. I just…I’ve never been so excited to be a part of someone’s next chapter, their daily life. I’ve never been someone’s…”

Suddenly Natalie was standing next to Finn. He didn’t know if Finn had waved her over, or how long she’d been standing there. She’d let her hair down, gold flowing over her shoulders. She had her arm looped through Finn’s, but she was only looking at him.

“There are beginnings, middles, and ends of everything,” Alex said, then smiled down at Cassie. “Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get the full ride.”

#aaand it's wedding time #vaincre lumosinlove #coops #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #Alex o'hara #Kasey winter #hockey au #sports au

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erwinsvow · 18 days ago

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Every new girlie you create for pope burrows into my brain and I can’t get them out /pos

Young nympho (only for him) girlie is actually frying my brain to think about fr

Like how he would react to her and when she says she’s never been like this with anyone else??? I think his brain and his dick would explode and he would wanna do everything to keep her happy, but he never understands why she’s with him or what it is about him that drives her crazy (my man has low self esteem 😭)

and she would teach him so much new stuff and get him to try things and be adventurous and I think she would really bring him out of his shell in every way

and he would be so possessive and obsessive when it comes to her and his stupid fam would be sus of her to start with and some of them wouldn’t like her cause she’s good for him (*cough* Smurf and Baz *cough*)

and and and…. [skull explodes violently]

SKULL VIOLENTLY EXPLODES IS MEEE reading this. nympho is a nympho but not just for anyone. gets quiet and shy for the first time telling pope she's never felt this way about anyone else but he makes her crazy and he'd just like. taking a deep breath. thought he was the only crazy one between them and it just feels very different hearing you say it like that and just. wow. oh wow yeah. i'm spiralling. still gets worried when he sees people flirting with you or approaching you but nympho is a clear lover girl. we are past the 'a' necklace. it's a necklace that says andrew in loopy font. anklet with his birthstone (june! a pearl. stares at it when he has your leg on his shoulder). clinging onto his bicep like it's her job. planning their little date nights and day trips and enjoying everything there is to enjoy with him. tries to get him to go on a vacation with her and talks about how they can have steamy hotel room sex and he just kind of sits up straighter and goes "but we have sex here everyday. why do we need to go to mexico?" but she mentions buying a new bikini and he'd be game. just pope getting used to the idea of someone wanting to spend literally every minute with him. i think it's actually so sweet. him and wifey are homebodies and him and nympho would be the opposite. he's just a lover boy catering to his girl and trying to make her happy. she's just trying to make him happy. it's all very sweet. baz and smurf would NOT like her lol. i'm sure smurf would probably call her 'the clingy slutty one' or something like that. baz thinks its funny like you just have an infatuation for some reason that'll fade. definitely don't like how snippy she is with them. can tell when someone isn't good for her man from a mile away. she's a lot nicer to craig and deran and j. definitely gets caught in an argument with smurf maybe because it's clear to anyone with eyes that pope is actually gonna marry and settle down with you. something along the lines of "sorry that i'm allowed to fuck your son and you can't, but don't take your creepy obsession with my boyfriend out on me"

#i mean... its just me writing things. take it as you wish!#📮 asks #nympho reader #pope cody

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ayrtonswnna · 4 months ago

Text

⠀⠀⠀LITTLE PRINCESS 〃 george russell oneshot.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀↳ drop a request! ↳ check my masterlist!

⠀⠀⠀george russell x lianna hamilton (hamilton!female oc)

lianna goes on a skiing trip with her brother and his team crew. her historical bickering with george russell turns to something else. ↳ fluff/crack. 4.6k words.

warnings: making out (like... twice. but good provocative making out), author recently started to get some british english studies so it might have gotten a bit carried away, characters with a backstory, lewis hamilton older brother core™ , george being really good with words, spoiled and petty character.

"Imagine you're cold, your brand-new-expensive Moon Boots are wet, you've just lost your favorite Vivienne Westwood necklace, you can't drive to save your life, your hair’s frizzy from the weather, and your older brother keeps talking about how much of a blessing it is to enjoy nature. Life is tough! Too tough!"

Lianna didn’t think joining her brother on this skiing trip would be such a disaster. She imagined cute outfits, sipping hot chocolate by a roaring fire, and maybe getting a few aesthetic paparazzi snaps for good measure. Instead? Wet boots, freezing wind, and an actual uphill climb.

“Lianna, for God’s sake!” Lewis groaned, turning back to stomp a footprint into the snow. “Can you stop whining for five bloody minutes? It’s not the first necklace you lose- and no one forced you to come. And if you don’t stop, I’ll nick those Moon Boots myself, and you can do the rest of the walk barefoot.”

“Wow. Just wow. This is who you call an idol, people? I’d be embarrassed.” She huffed, adjusting her oversized backpack like the world’s most annoyed mountain climber. “Next time, we’re going to Ibiza. Or Mykonos. Somewhere civilised. I’ll start shopping for bikinis as soon as we’re back.”

“Next time,” a voice in the back muttered. “you’ll be in red with Charles Leclerc for company. Keep up, Little Princess.”

Before she could snap back, George Russell breezed past her like he was strolling through Hyde Park, not hiking up a snowy mountain.

“Feeling sad, Mr. Russell? Gonna miss me this much?”

Mutual pining at its finest; that was their thing. George’s endless teasing, her exaggerated reactions — it was like they had their own language.

“You can’t imagine how much, Miss Little Princess,” he replied with a smirk, offering her a hand as they reached a particularly icy bit. “Now come on, or you’ll end up stuck here till spring.”

Lianna sighed dramatically but took his hand anyway. “If I fall, ruin my coat, or twist my ankle, you owe me a new outfit. And not your boring beige nonsense.”

“Noted, Miss Neon Everything.”

When they finally made it to the rented chalet — a cozy wooden house with floor-to-ceiling windows and a roaring fire — it was a much-needed respite. Lianna threw herself into the nearest armchair with a dramatic groan.

Lewis, ever the drill sergeant, clapped his hands together. “Right, we’re hitting the slopes this afternoon. Who’s in?”

Most of the group chimed in enthusiastically, but Lianna didn’t even flinch. “Absolutely not. I’m staying here. Where it’s warm. Like a normal person.”

George, leaning against the doorframe, grinned. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on the princess. Can’t leave her alone with all this nature.”

Lewis rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine. Try not to kill each other.”

The door clicked shut, and Lianna and George were left alone in the quiet warmth of the house. The youngest Hamilton groaned, tugging a throw blanket over herself.

At least they had phone area; she had some good real fun with Tiktoks before she could feel the pair of eyes over her.

“What?” she snapped, looking up.

“Nothing,” George said, trying to suppress a grin, coming back from the kitchen. “Just enjoying the theatrics. You could’ve been an actress, you know.”

“It is just not fair, my drama is really valid. You numpty.” she muttered, fidgeting with her sweater. “My boots are ruined, my mood is ruined, and now I’m stuck here with you.”

He chuckled, plopping onto the couch beside her. “Admit it, you’d be bored out of your mind without me.”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “I thrive in solitude.”

“Is that why you always find me at events?” George teased. “Or why you made sure it was me driving you home after my birthday?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she threw him a pillow without hesitating. "Everyone else was smashed, and you kept offering, like, three times. I said I’d just grab an Uber, but you bolted to get the keys like it was life or death."

“If it helps you sleep at night…” He just smiled, leaning back like he had all the time in the world. “You’re gonna miss me, though. Once you’re off in Italy with Lewis.”

“Nahhh… Not at all. Maybe just some of your paddock fits, and your private jet- Oh, I love the jet. But you?” her nose crunched, ready to keep the yapping but caught off guard when she took a few seconds to look up at him.

The damn blue eyes and the prince posture, even relaxed by the couch. Something like comfort floating in between them and the freedom the driver had while scanning her face.

Her bravado faltered for a moment; he seemed so sure of what he was doing that he even leaned closer. “Maybe a tiny bit, right? We can agree on that.”

She caught her breath. “Us? Agreeing? No way on God’s green earth.”

“You’ll be gutted when I’m not around, admit it.” he winked, in a cheesy way he knew would make her laugh. He is in fact really good with that. “Unlike you, Little princess, I am fully able to recognize I will miss making fun of your over-expensive clothes and your crying when Lew wins- and the tantrums over food! I’ll even miss that...”

“Oh! You clot! I dress well and I cry a lot - my brother is the biggest winner in your sport and I don’t enjoy much food besides mom’s. And the actual problem here is how obsessed you are with me! That’s a lot of information.”

“Obsessed? Nah, that’s too much” he said quietly, “But I guess I really do notice you a lot. You’ve got a presence.”

She blinked, her cockiness crumbling. “Don’t expect me to say anything like that about you- I only notice your boring clothes and your radio calls because they’re funny.”

“Again, if it helps you sleep at night…” he replied, his head only tilted more and more to the side, closer and closer to her. She’s noticed, of course she did. Suddenly it’s getting hot; and they're in the middle of the snow.

There’s something like tension in the air, it’s weird how they can get to that sometimes. It just never happened in a one-on-one environment. Silence grew thick and his breath could reach her cheek now. It is not like they haven’t been near before.

They stood together in a full elevator once, her body stuck in between his figure and the wall as she kept conversation with their friends also inside the cabin. Tough time for Mister Russell, he fought for his life that day.

She feels that way when he lifts her up to get across the paddock, through the high-posted gates and the half-walls, or when he jokingly approaches her from behind during parties.

It is actually surprising they didn’t cross any line yet.

“I notice when you see me from the distance and you smile. It happens more in the garage… Sometimes I even forget it’s my job to hate you.” it slid from her lips before she could stop it; but, somehow. It felt right to say. The silence was suffocating.

“You smile back every time. You wave too… Like a Little Princess.”

They might not actually hate each other; in fact, it might be the other way around. Even Lianna could see it, now that she took the courage to lean to the side and stare back. Eye-in-eye action. A bold, strong one.

George’s gaze lingered, sharp but soft in a way that made her chest tighten. His confidence wasn’t overbearing, but there was no mistaking the certainty in his eyes. That kind of focus could stop anyone in their tracks, and right now, it was aimed solely at her.

“Little Princess, huh?” she said, her voice quieter now, the teasing edge fading into something she wasn’t entirely prepared for.

His lips twitched, almost smirking. “You wear the title well.”

Her mouth opened to snap back, but nothing came out. She felt trapped — in a good way. Her heart was speeding up, and there was no denying the pull in the air, like something unspoken was gaining weight with every second.

His hand rested on the couch between them, fingers grazing the cushion as though he was holding himself back. Hers wasn’t far off, her fingers clutching the edge of the fabric. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or if the space between them was shrinking by the second.

“You’re staring,” she pointed out, her voice trembling slightly, betraying her.

“You’re letting me,” George shot back, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to make her stomach flip.

She rolled her eyes instinctively, but her attempt at nonchalance was betrayed when her gaze dropped — just for a second — to his lips. He caught it, of course. How could he not?

His hand shifted, the movement slow, deliberate. His fingers grazed curls, moving them to the side before tracing the now free area of her face, featherlight, sending a shockwave straight up her spine. Her first instinct was to pull away, but she didn’t.

Her breath hitched. She wanted to say something — anything — but the words caught in her throat, tangled up in the pounding of her heartbeat. Her throat went dry as soon as he had more skin touching her, hand finding room in the side of her neck, the big palm rubbing against the sensitive part, gently and firmly holding her in place, as controversial it could feel.

The texture of his skin was warm, rougher than she expected, like he’d been gripping the steering wheel too tightly for too long. She’d never thought much about George’s hands before, but now? Now they were all she could think about.

Her own palm pressed lightly around his fist, and the simple connection felt intimate in a way she wasn’t ready to admit. It’s the implying; how his thumb ghosted around her cheek, secretly making way to her bottom lip, hypnotizing, striking. His fingers could get a hold of her hair now and that’s when he knew she was fully melted, just like her head did onto his hand, her eyes almost shutting closed. From the slighted touch. It would form an amazing joke if he could ever think of one at the moment.

“Still don’t think you’ll miss me?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the tension crackling between them.

“Not even a little bit,” she lied, though her voice betrayed her again, soft and unsteady.

He leaned closer, the shift so gradual it was like he was giving her time to stop him. His breath was warm against her cheek, and she could feel the faint scent of his cologne — something subtle but crisp, like cedarwood and rain.

They’re closer now, her body betraying her with its natural instinct to lean toward him.

“You’re terrible at lying,” he said, his lips so close to hers now that she could almost feel the words as much as she heard them. “I really thought you were tough. But here you are, practically melting under my touch.”

Her heart felt like it might explode. The weight of his gaze, the heat of his hand against her skin, the sheer proximity — it was all too much and yet not enough. With his hand still holding her in place, his thumb brushed against her lip, as let out a soft laugh, his breath warm against her ear now. “So, this is what happens when I get you alone? Can’t say I’m complaining... but don’t think I won’t use this against you later.”

Her voice came out barely above a whisper, trembling as she said, “Shut up, George.”

And then, as if her words were the permission he’d been waiting for, his lips brushed hers. It wasn’t a kiss, not yet. It was tentative, a question more than an answer. Her brother’s future-ex-teammate leading the hell they’ll turn into paradise, still keeping her where she is as he didn’t let the kiss really happen — driving her crazy.

A single moment stretched into infinity as her mind raced and her body froze, caught between the overwhelming urge to pull him closer and the voice in her head screaming that this was a bad idea.

Her fingers curled tighter around his wrist, pulling him closer and making him smile teasingly, believing it was enough with the temptation. His lips pressed against hers, soft and warm and everything she hadn’t let herself imagine before.

The world fell away.

She didn’t move at first, too overwhelmed by the weight of it all. But then her body took over, her lips moving against his in a way that felt natural, instinctive. Her hand slid from the couch to his arm, her fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his shirt, and she could feel the muscles beneath tense at her touch.

His lips lingered on hers, teasing, before he pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, both of them breathless. The world around them seemed to fade; there was nothing but the quiet of the room and the rapid beats of their hearts, out of sync but somehow perfectly aligned.

George’s hand slid from her neck to her jaw, his thumb brushing her lower lip, drawing her attention to it before capturing her mouth once more. This time, it wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t questioning. It was urgent, like they both knew the clock was ticking, and there was no going back.

Her hands were already tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer, her body instinctively arching into his as if it belonged there. She didn’t care about the consequences anymore. All she cared about was the heat of his skin, the way his lips moved against hers, the way his body fit against hers perfectly.

The kiss deepened, and her fingers slid to the back of his neck, gripping his hair, tugging him down as she tilted her head to get closer, to deepen the kiss. It was reckless. It was desperate. But it was also... exhilarating. Her body pressed harder against his, and she could feel the tension coil tighter inside her, like a spring wound too tight, ready to snap.

Just as she felt him pull her flush against him, his knee sliding between her legs, the door clicked.

They both froze.

The sound of the lock turning seemed to reverberate in her chest. In an instant, George shoved himself away from her, his chest heaving as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

She scrambled to adjust herself, heart pounding, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

“Hey, you guys, everyone alive?” Lewis’s voice rang through the room as the door swung open, revealing him with a knowing smirk. “Oh- Did I… Did I interrupt something?”

Lianna’s breath was still shallow, her hand clutching the side of the couch like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

George was trying his best to look unaffected, but his disheveled appearance wasn’t helping.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “You two are weird. Seriously, what is going on with you two? Are we gonna have to start an intervention?”

Lianna shot him a glare. “What do you want, Lewis?” she snapped, though her voice was a little too shaky to sound convincing.

Lewis, oblivious to the tension that had just enveloped the room, shrugged. “Oh, I just came to grab my... uh, charger. Is everything ok down here? You both seem… Weird?” He glanced between them, the smirk still dancing on his lips. “It’s almost like you’re in a friendly competition or something.”

George shot a glance at Lianna, and in a flash, they both tried to cover the awkwardness with false bravado.

“Oh, please,” Lianna scoffed, crossing her arms, trying to play it cool. “Competition with George isn’t competition. I win every time.”

George quickly jumped in, grinning like he didn’t just almost kiss her senseless. “Never won against me on paddle, karting, chess, soccer… You even lose bets. Don’t lie to-”

“Alright, alright. Got it. You still hate each other. Got it.” Lewis rolled his eyes, clearly not buying it, but he played along.

They both nodded in exaggerated agreement, too quickly to be convincing, but it seemed to ease the weirdness, if only for a second.

“Anyway, I’m off,” Lewis said, his voice light and carefree, though he was clearly still enjoying the strange vibe between them. “We’ve all got that race in an hour, and I don’t plan on being caught in a compromising position again.” He winked at them both. “You two might want to stay away from each other until then, yeah?”

He lingered for a moment longer, clearly sensing something was off but not quite knowing what, before turning to leave.

There was a long silence between them after he left.

Lianna let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “God, that was close.”

George just exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I swear, if he noticed anything, I’ll never hear the end of it.” He leaned against the back of the couch, his expression half annoyed, half amused.

“Well, you wouldn’t have to hear anything if you weren’t so obvious,” she shot back, though there was still a slight edge to her voice. The playful bickering was slowly returning, but there was still a rawness in the air.

“You started it,” he said with a smirk, a challenge in his eyes as he crossed his arms. “You’re the one who can’t keep her hands to herself.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping away from him. “You kissed me, George.”

He grinned. “And you kissed me back.”

“Right, yeah. ” she shot back. “You kissed me, I kissed you back, Lewis got in and stopped us. End of the story”

“Fine, It didn’t seem like you wanted to end it before Lew- Ouch, Lianna!” he started normally, but a pillow hit his face half way through it.

“Yeah, now stand up and let’s go change. You have to snowboard and I have to sit down and look pretty in my Fendi coat. Let´s go.”

That night, long after the others returned and went to bed, Lianna found herself pacing in her room. Her mind was a storm of thoughts, emotions swirling that she couldn’t quite name. Her heart was racing, every step against the cold wood floor seeming to echo through her. That kiss, that moment — she couldn’t shake it.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed a hoodie, padded barefoot across the hall, and knocked lightly on George’s door.

"Lianna?" His voice was groggy, thick with sleep.

When he opened the door and saw her standing there, his expression softened, eyes still heavy with sleep but already wide awake in that instant. His lips parted, a mixture of surprise and something else she couldn’t quite read.

Without waiting for him to say more, she pushed past him, climbing into his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Don’t make it weird,” she said, her tone dismissive but her body betraying her nerves, every movement stiff as if she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

“My room’s freezing,” she added, but even to her own ears, it sounded like a half-hearted excuse.

George chuckled, the sound low and warm in the dim room, sliding in beside her without hesitation. "Of course. Wouldn’t dream of it," he muttered, though his voice carried a teasing edge.

The bed creaked under them as they shifted, both finding an awkward comfort in the space between them. It was quiet — too quiet — but the it wasn’t uncomfortable. They lay there in the dark, the moments stretching out between them, until Lianna broke the silence.

“So…” she started, her voice uncertain. “Do you remember that time when we were at that dinner, and you were being all smug because you knew exactly what to order?”

George groaned, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t know you hated the fact that I actually have taste.”

She snorted. “Taste? You were showing off like you were some gourmet chef or something. I swear, I almost choked on my water just to get out of hearing about your ‘expert’ opinions on wine.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm. “I was just trying to share some culture with you. Not my fault you don’t appreciate the finer things in life.”

Lianna raised an eyebrow, turning her head slightly to look at him. “You mean you just like hearing yourself talk.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “But at least you listened. That’s more than I can say for some people.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said, her voice a little teasing now, though there was something in it that made it feel a little too intimate. “I listened. I just didn’t appreciate it. Just like the way you act like I’m some sort of charity case when you give me rides.”

George turned his head slightly, lips barely touching the top of her hair as he spoke, quieter now. “You know, you always act like you don’t like it. But I think you do. You like the attention.”

Lianna’s breath caught, her mind racing. She had always been so quick to brush off anything too personal between them, especially when it came to him. But now, with his voice so close, the words lingered.

She shifted, unsure of how to respond, but then, without thinking, she said, “Yeah, sure, I like the attention. I’m not ashamed of it.”

George smiled, a genuine warmth in his voice when he spoke again. “I noticed. You do like the spotlight.”

Lianna shifted again, her face now resting just below his collarbone. “I never said I liked it. I just like being noticed when I want to be.” Her fingers brushed the fabric of his shirt, and she cursed herself for making it sound so... intimate.

He paused for a second, the tension between them palpable. "I get that," he murmured softly. "You deserve to be noticed."

Lianna didn’t respond right away. Instead, she let the silence settle between them. She couldn’t ignore it anymore — the way he said it, like it was just a matter of fact. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt suddenly exposed, vulnerable in a way that she hadn’t expected.

They both lay there in the dark, the tension creeping up between them, thick but not unbearable. He spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “I know we always bicker. It’s kind of our thing, isn’t it? But don’t pretend it’s just for fun, Lianna. You know I can’t resist when you get all worked up.”

She turned slightly, her face closer to his now. “Maybe I just like getting under your skin,” she said, her words coming out smoother than she intended.

“Oh, I know you do,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “But don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy when I noticed you, when I called you out on something. You liked the attention just as much as I did."

Lianna’s heart fluttered, the heat between them escalating with every word. “Yeah, maybe I did,” she said, her voice almost a whisper now. She was almost embarrassed by how much it was affecting her, but she didn’t pull away.

George’s fingers brushed against the side of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. “I noticed you, alright,” he murmured. “Every little thing. Every smile, every look, every time you’d act like you didn’t care, when I knew you did.”

She let out a shaky breath, her chest tightening in response to his words. “I didn’t know you paid that much attention.”

“I always do,” he whispered, his lips so close to her ear now, the words brushing against her skin. “You’re hard to miss, Lianna.”

There it was again. The weight of his words, sinking in as he said it like it was just another casual thing. But it didn’t feel casual. It felt charged, heavy with unspoken meaning.

Lianna opened her mouth, about to reply, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she just let the moment linger, the silence swallowing them both up for a beat before he broke it with a soft exhale.

"You make it hard to keep my distance," George whispered, his lips brushing against the top of her hair.

Her heart skipped. His voice, the way he said it, made her shiver slightly. She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she simply stayed quiet, absorbing his words, trying to figure out what to say next.

But the air around them was electric now. Her body was pressed to his, the warmth of his skin making her chest tighten and her breath catch. Her hand found its way to his chest, lightly resting against him, and it almost felt like a reflex.

Then, without thinking, she leaned in. Her lips met his again, soft at first, hesitant, as if they were both afraid of crossing some invisible line. But the second her lips touched his, everything else seemed to fade away. It deepened naturally, a quiet urgency behind it, as if they both had waited long enough to let this moment stretch between them, just like they knew there’s no going back; ever since earlier on the couch. They started something that’s impossible to just stop now.

Her fingers found the fabric of his shirt, gripping it just a little tighter, and the kiss deepened, slow and sure, like they had all the time in the world. His hands moved, tentative at first, tracing the line of her jaw before cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing the skin with a tenderness that made her heart beat harder.

There was something intoxicating about the way he kissed her—like he was trying to memorize the taste, the warmth of her, but also something urgent, a silent need that they both couldn’t name.

The kiss broke, but neither of them pulled away completely. Their foreheads rested together for a moment, breaths mingling, both of them unwilling to speak. The weight of what had just happened hung there, both of them knowing that it meant something, but neither of them wanting to say it out loud.

She could feel the hum in her chest, that buzzing tension that still lingered, but there was a certain calm, too. The kiss had been slow, deliberate, nothing rushed, nothing forced. And yet, it had been more than either of them expected.

“George,” she whispered again, this time quieter, almost as if she was trying to convince herself.

He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing patterns on her arm as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arm tighter around her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And just like that, the world seemed to slow. Their lips found each other again in the dark, softer this time, less urgent but no less electric.

Before either of them realized, sleep began to creep in. The kiss faded, their breathing evening out as their bodies relaxed into the warmth of the bed. It was as if everything that had been said, everything that had been left unsaid, was allowed to rest, allowed to settle between them.

They didn’t speak anymore, didn’t need to. The quiet stretched on, thick with the unspoken understanding that something had shifted. And as the hours passed, with their bodies tangled together, both of them finally fell asleep, the tension lingering in the silence but no longer pulling them apart.

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astrolynnworld · 1 year ago

Text

sensual showers

pairing: matt x reader

summary: matt and y/n have shower sex while y/n’s parents are home

a/n- requested 🫡 lowkey a part 2 to car sex

warning: smut! sneaky, teasing, shower sex, quickie, needy.

word count: 726

matt had came with me to visit my parents for the weekend

i hadn’t come by in a few months and figured i should take a trip up there

he offered to come along and i, more than excitedly, accepted

when we arrived, my parents were very welcoming and kind

they helped us bring our bags upstairs to my childhood room

everything still the same as i had left it, as always.

“dinner is almost done, get ready then come down. your brother is also on his way for the weekend” says my mother in a lighthearted tone

i nod as acknowledgment then she shuts the door as she exits

matt seats himself on my bed, “wow how nice it must of been to not share a bunk bed with your twin brother” he chuckles softly as a joke

i roll my eyes with a smile

“how nice it must of been to be close to your brothers!!” i joke back

“yeah yeah.” he responds

i roam around my room as i get me & matt settled in

“alright, i’m gonna go shower now” i say as i finish unpacking all our stuff

“without me?” he says in a corny joking way

“you’re unreal” i laugh, “you can join if you want” i snuggly say before heading off into the bathroom

i close the door, and hop into the shower

no more than 5 minutes later i hear the shower curtain open

i turn around to see a naked matt

i chuckle at his boldness, “so you were serious?”

“of course” he smiles

i continue with my shower as he showers alongside me

until i feel his hard cock start to rub up against me

“matt? are you seriously hard right now” i ask

“i can’t help it.. you’re naked” he softly responds

“you always see me naked ..”

“and i always get hard..”

knowing that matt could simply get turned on by me doing something as normal as showering was kinda doing something to me

of course im naked but.. its not like im teasing him or trying to turn him on

he was just simply hard because of my naked presence

i look up into his eyes and wrap my hand around his cock as i make eye contact

he looks at me with his mouth slightly agape out of shock

i start jerking my hand back and forth as a tease

he throws his head back and whines out a small “fuck.”

i use my other hand to pick his head back up and bend it down close to my face as i kiss him

i kiss him softly as i continue to jerk his cock, watching him struggle into my mouth

i turn around and bend over as i align his head with my hole, watering hitting all on his back

once i align the head, i back up slowly into him as his puts his hands on my hips

“you’re so tight in this position fuck” he whines out

i adjust to his size and slowly start to move back and forth on his cock, matching his thrusts forward into me

slow and passionate movements, tickling my cervix with pleasure

“fuck matt. please don’t stop” i beg

i grip the wall and arch my back in more as i continue to throw back onto him

the sounds of our heavy breaths and bodies slapping against each other fill the room

“fuck i’m gonna cum” he says as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts

i groan at the pleasure of his cock slamming inside of me

i start to tighten around his cock

“mmm you feel - so-“ he tries to mutter out as he bends over into me while shooting his load deep in my pussy

i squeeze tightly around his cock as i feel the orgasm overwhelm me

“fuckkk” i whine out

heavy breaths fill the air as the slapping noise starts to descend

“you think we were too loud?” matt asks

“i hope not” i say as i start to stand up and let his cock fall out of me

he pulls me in for a kiss as the water continues to run down his back

“can- we actually- shower now.” i say through breaks of the kiss

“fine.” he rolls his eyes as we finish our romantic shower

————————————————————————

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guiltypleasurecreative · 10 months ago

Text

Best Friend Vacation

Best friends Harry and Y/N have been the best of friends for nearly a decade. They’re such close friends they take an annual vacation together, just the two of them. This trip, however, may just be the one that changes things.

Contents: Explicit depictions of sex, fluff

6.6k words

“Oh, my goodness. Harry! This is so nice!”

“Yeah, I think this is the nicest one yet.” Harry set the luggage just inside the door of the cabin you rented for the week. It had been a long drive, but it was still early afternoon—plenty of time to relax and enjoy the day.

You couldn’t say anymore who’s idea it was, but for the last five or six years you and Harry have taken a friends vacation together. One year, you invited some mutual friends, and it wasn’t as fun or relaxing, so you stuck to just the two of you. Things were so much better this way.

After nearly nine years of friendship, you two were super close. You two hung out most weekends and recently had spent many weeks planning this trip to a forested mountainous town close enough to the coast that you could smell the salty ocean air.

“Which room do you want, Harry?”

“I wake up earlier than you, so I want the one with the view. I want my morning tea with a view.”

“I can enjoy the same view when I wake at noon.”

“I’m calling it, Y/N,” he smiled at you and picked up your bags, setting them into the other room – the one without a view, apparently. “Look! Yours has an en suite with a big bathtub.”

You walked further into the room and saw there was a large claw foot tub. “Wow, I don’t remember this on the listing.”

“Me either. Maybe its new and they just haven’t updated the listing yet?”

He turned around to face you, but you only shrugged.

“Let’s put the groceries away, and we’ll figure out what to see first. Maybe we just hang out here and jump in the jacuzzi?”

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked as you entered the house. You’d spent the afternoon in the jacuzzi with a bottle of Moscato. When the bottle was empty you and Harry decided it was time to go inside.

“Getting there.”

“Let’s get cleaned up then I’ll make dinner?”

“Sounds good.”

When you got out of the shower you heard the sound of chopping coming from the kitchen.

“Hey.” Harry greeted you while chopping heirloom tomatoes. “I thought we could have something light. We have burrata and pesto so I’m making a nice tomato salad. I’ve got some garlic bread in the oven.

“That sounds lovely. What can I do?” You took the towel from your hair and draped it over a chair at the kitchen counter.

“Nothing. Go pick a movie.” He smiled as he mixed the tomatoes in with the pesto then seasoned it with salt and pepper.

“What do you feel like watching?” You walked to the living room and turned on the giant television.

“Whatever. What about that movie you were telling me about on the drive up?”

Harry put the burrata in the center of a serving plate and the tomatoes around it. Harry always had a knack when it came to making food look as good as it tasted. On another plate he piled the garlic bread then took it out to the living room where you sat on the couch, remote control in hand.

“Can you grab us some drinks?” Harry asked as the plates on the coffee table. He looked up and saw that you had on a very tiny pair of pajama shorts.

“Of course. Beer okay?”

“Y/N, didn’t you pack any pants? You’re not even wearing socks!”

“I was hot after my shower!”

“Yeah, but as soon as you sit down, you’re gonna get cold. And what are you gonna do? You’re going to tuck your cold ass feet under me!”

“But you’re always so warm!”

“Y/N...get socks at least.” Harry was behind you in the kitchen now grabbing two small plates and utensils.

“Yes, dad.” You smirked, knowing you were annoying him.

“Fine, don’t listen. But you can’t tuck your cold feet under me and I’m not letting you warm up your fingers on me either.”

“Just grab me a blanket if you’re so worried, damn.”

Harry smacked your ass then called you a brat under his breath.

“Bastard! I almost dropped the bottles!” Harry only turned around and winked at you in response.

Harry sat on the couch. When you sat down, he handed you a plate then served you.

“This was a good idea, Har. Something nice and light after all that crap we ate for lunch.”

“Actually, I wanted something lighter because I want ice cream with all the toppings later.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed play on the movie.

The two of you ate in a comfortable silence.

“Pause it for me please? I’m going to put the leftovers away.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks. And get some socks! It still gets chilly at night.” He smacked your ass again as you got up from the couch.

“Are you going to bitch at me every night? We are never taking a vacation in the Spring again. Summer only.”

“Then I’ll just bitch at you about staying hydrated in the heat.” He smiled up at you as he laid down on the couch.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m your best friend. You know you love me! Hurry up, the plot was just getting good.”

You put the leftovers away then went to your room to grab socks out of your luggage. When you returned to the living room you sat down by Harry’s head and made a big show of putting on your socks.

Harry smiled and gave your thigh a light squeeze. “Thank you.”

The movie was pretty good, not what you had expected, but it was enjoyable. When it was over you stood up and stretched, looking down at Harry.

“I think I’m going to bed. You want me to get you some ice cream before I go?”

“Nah, I don’t really feel like it anymore. I think I’ll go read my book. Thanks.” Harry stretched before standing up, too.

“Alright. Good night, Har.”

“Night. Sleep well.” He kissed you on the top of your head and squeezed your shoulder before walking to his room.

When you reached your room, you took your time washing up then climbed in bed. You scrolled your phone for a bit, but you couldn’t quite relax. Thankfully, you brought your toy with you.

You got out of bed and looked for it in your luggage. Quickly, you realized it wasn’t in that particular bag, so you searched your other bag, but had no luck. In frustration you flipped on the bedside light and dumped both bags onto the bed.

A few minutes later you were folding your clothes and putting them back in your luggage, defeated. A knock on your door startled you.

“Y/N?”

“Come in.”

“Everything okay? I got up and saw your light was on.” Harry was dressed in sleeping pants with a matching unbuttoned shirt. He had obviously just thrown it on just to leave his bedroom.

“I forgot my vibrator,” you sighed.

Harry chuckled. “Oh, no. A sexually frustrated Y/N is no fun at all.”

You rolled your eyes. “Go to bed, Harry.”

He sat down on the bed, watching you put your things back into your bag. “Oh, come on. Don’t get all bent out of shape. You still have hands.”

You stopped what you were doing just to smack Harry in the arm. “You think if that worked for me, I’d be upset right now?”

“What? So it won’t feel as nice. It’ll still take the edge off.”

You put your bags away and flopped on the bed next to Harry. “No, like, I can’t get there at all without help. Trying just makes me more frustrated.”

After a moment of silence, you reached over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table. “You staying or going? I’m just going to go to sleep.” You didn’t wait for an answer before you settled under the covers again and prepared to sleep.

“Would you like my help?”

With a hearty laugh you swiped your hand down Harry’s face. “Close your eyes and go to sleep Harry.”

“No, I’m serious. Thinking about your toy got me all worked up, too.” You didn’t respond so he continued. “My hand isn’t as fun either. Why don’t we help each other out?”

Is he for real?

“Harry, did the heat from the jacuzzi get to your head?” You chuckled and reached out for his hand and closed your eyes again.

“No, but all my blood is rushing south. Maybe that’s it.”

You opened your eyes again and looked down at his pants. The room was dark, but you could still see he wasn’t lying. He was sporting a bit of a hard on and you let out a breathy laugh. “You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know that?”

“Mmm. Night, Y/N.”

Harry said good night but made no move to go back to his bed. You two had slept together on who knows how many occasions. It was never a big deal, but tonight felt different. You had never fallen asleep next to him while he had a hard on. Or at least not that you knew of.

The two of you laid together quietly before you spoke up. “Okay. Let’s help each other out. I’m not gonna sleep in this state. You can’t be too comfortable either.”

“Y/N?”

“Oh, come on. You make the suggestion then get shy on me? Besides, we’ve seen each other naked before.”

“You’ve seen me because you never knock anymore, but I don’t recall ever seeing you,” he said with a laugh.

“Wow, Harry. Thanks. Good to know it was memorable.”

“I’m serious! I don’t remember. When?”

You turned your body to face him, and he did the same.

“You’ve seen my breasts I don’t know how many times!”

“Breasts don’t count! You’ve seen mine too.” Harry laughed again.

“We really lack boundaries, don’t we?” You giggled.

“Nah, I think we’re just comfortable with each other.”

“Maybe,” you laughed, “but breasts count.”

“Breasts do not count,” Harry countered.

“Okay, well, this is your chance to see the rest of me. Are up for it?”

Harry sat in silence for a moment. “I’m game. My situation hasn’t gone away yet.”

You laughed, “I can’t believe we’re gonna do this. We’re so stupid.”

“We’ve been stupider,” Harry answers, causing both of you to laugh harder.

Harry cleared his throat in an attempt to stop his laughter. “So, we’re serious about this?”

“Yeah, why not. We’ve been stupider right?” You smiled at your best friend.

“Like that time we got lost in Rome after letting our cell phones die?” Harry sat up and put his hand on your knee.

“God, that was so dumb. I still don’t know how we managed to find our way back to the hotel.”

The two of you broke out into a fit of laughter again.

“So. Any hard boundaries? Things that you like?”

“Harry, I’m not discussing my kinks with you. We’re just going to scratch this itch and go to bed.”

“Okay, okay. You afraid I’ll judge you if I find out you like your hair pulled?”

You were a little surprised. “How did you know that?”

Harry shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“Ugh, you know me too well.” You got comfortable on the bed and Harry moved to stand on his knees between your legs. He rested his hands on your knees.

“That I do, but I still don’t know where you draw the line.”

“Uhhh. I like dirty talk, but nothing degrading. Nothing rough. I don’t like pain.”

“I could have guessed that,” Harry chuckled.

“What about you? Any no-goes?”

“No, I’ve always really enjoyed wherever the act takes me,” he laughed.

“You’re such a man,” you joked.

Harry shrugged out of his unbuttoned shirt. “Do you…want me to play with you?”

“That feels a bit too intimate, don’t you think?”

“More intimate than sex? Not really. And unless you want to start this with no warmup all dr—”

“Okay. Uh, you could…you could touch me?”

“Sure.” He kissed your forehead and moved from between your legs to lay down beside you. He looked in your eyes as he rested his head on your pillow. He rubbed your stomach, just below your navel. When he moved his hand in gentle circles, his fingers grazing the waistband of your shorts.

“Wanna take these off?” His voice was soft and quiet.

“Yeah.” You looked down at your waist where Harry’s hands still laid. You lifted your hips to take off your shorts and underwear.

Harry groaned and looked back up at your face. “Can I go lower?”

You nodded, not saying a word. He slid his hands lower, barely grazing over your clit on his way to run his fingers between your folds. Your mouth fell open with a sharp intake of breath. His face mirrored yours, clearly drunk on your pleasure.

He played with you for a bit as both of you watched his fingers dip low to gather your arousal and bring it to your clit. He felt amazing. You closed your eyes and focused on your growing pleasure.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You opened your eyes and focused on his face. You could see his arm flexing out of the corner of your eye and it was driving you mad.

“It’s getting painful.” He chuckled uncomfortably.

“Fuck! Sorry!” You got up on your knees, forcing Harry to pull his hand away. “Lie back.”

Harry laid on his back and tucked an arm under his head, watching you.

“Can I take these off?” You kneeled between his legs with both hands on his pants.

“’Course.” He lifted his hips to help you take off his pajama pants. You tugged his pants all the way off of his legs. When you looked back up at him, he had his fingers pressed to his face. “You smell really good.”

You shuddered. It was always such a turn on when a partner enjoyed the smell of you. Without taking his eyes away from you he licked his fingers.

You let out a moan. “Really?”

“It’s a huge turn on for me.” Harry had a broad grin on his face.

“Me too. Never thought we’d know that about each other.”

Harry laughed, prompting you to laugh, too. When you felt a throbbing in your core you decided to get serious.

“Spit.” You held your hand out to his mouth. Harry furrowed his brows. “I mean, unless you like it dry.”

Without taking his eyes away from yours he sat up and spit in your hand. Jesus, that was hot. You brought your hand to the tip off his penis and began to rub him. Your other hand went between your legs to rub yourself. Harry’s eyes fluttered closed and his head fell back on the pillow. When he began to feel dry again you switched hands, bringing the hand covered in your arousal up to his dick.

Harry groaned loudly. “That is the hottest thing anyone’s ever done for me in bed.”

You smiled and hung your head. The feel of Harry’s dick in your hands was such a turn on and you could feel yourself getting closer to your release. You loved it when your partner moaned in bed, it was probably the sexiest thing a man could do in bed. Every sound that fell from Harry’s lips spurred you on.

“Ah—sh—it’s getting dry again.” Harry sat up on his elbows.

You nodded without a word and switched hands again, covering him in more of yourself.

“Y/N, are you still taking the pill?”

Both of your hands stopped moving. “Huh?”

“You’re still on the pill, right?”

“Yes. Yeah.” Your brain was too fuzzy with pleasure to figure out why he was asking.

“So, let’s like, actually do it.”

“Do you want to?” Your heart was still pounding in your chest. You could have come just like this, but you couldn’t turn down intertwining your bodies, feeling full.

“I think that’s pretty obviously a yes. You can feel how hard I am right now.”

You laughed and took your shirt off, just remembering it was still on when the fabric painfully rubbed against your nipples. Harry moaned at the sight of your bare breasts.

“Shit. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you, Y/N?”

“At least you’ll remember seeing me naked now,” you laughed.

“I never forgot! I just said breasts don’t count.” He ran both hands down your sides. “You haven’t answered me yet.”

“Yes.”

“Regularly?”

You laughed remembering all the times he had to remind you to take your pills in the past. That was so long ago now; you had gotten much better at taking them regularly and on time. “Yes.”

“So, what’s stopping us then?” Harry sat up and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Nothing.”

Harry smiled before pressing his lips to yours. He guided you down on to your back and climbed between your legs again. His kisses trailed from your lips, down your neck, then to your chest. You relished the feeling of his lips on you and running your fingers through his hair. Damn, was he good in bed.

“I wanna try something.” Harry was breathing heavily.

“Anything.”

Harry wasted no time bringing his lips to his to your nipple causing you to cry out. He propped himself up on one arm and brought his hand between your legs. His fingers slid into you and his thumb rubbed your clit.

“Ah! Harry, that feels really good.”

“Good.” He pressed another kiss to your chest.

All too soon you felt that familiar tension building then spilling over. You had one of the best orgasms you’ve had in who knows how long.

Harry pulled his fingers from between your legs and brought them to his lips. Once he had sucked his fingers clean, he brought himself to your entrance. “You’re still okay with this?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought his body flush against your chest. He easily slid into you, filling you up. Harry pumped his hips, pulling in and out of you slowly while moaning. His breath on your neck was heavenly.

“Y/N, what’s your favorite position? What will make you come again?”

“I don’t know. A partner has never given me two in one go,” you answered.

“Jesus, Y/N. What kind of losers do you sleep with?”

You laughed but before you could even respond Harry had pulled out of you and was flipping you on to your stomach. He pulled your hips up just a bit so he could slide back in. He placed a hand on your ass and pushed you back down flat against the bed. His hand ran from your ass to your shoulder, massaging as he kissed the nape of your neck. With one last kiss he laid his body flat over yours.

“Cross your legs at the ankle and squeeze your legs together.”

You did as you were asked and thought you were going to come again. Your core was so tight he could barely move himself inside you. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he slipped a hand between you and the bed to rub your clit. He continued to press soft kisses to your back as he slowly thrust in and out of you. You could feel how wet you were.

“Y/N, I’m close.”

“Harry, yes. Just use me.”

“No—ah, I need to see my girl’s face when I come. It’s kind of my thing.”

“Lie down,” you commanded.

Harry traded places with you then you grabbed his dick again and lined it up with your center. You sank down on him slowly, enjoying the sight of him coming unraveled.

He held on to your thighs until you placed both your hands over his and brought them to your breasts. “Keep touching me.”

Something about watching your chest rise and fall while you rocked your hips had Harry needing more. He grabbed you by the small of your back and pulled you close to him. He sat up and leveraged the headboard to thrust up into you, his hands back on your hips.

Eventually he felt the need to hold you even closer. He wrapped his arms around your torso and buried his face in your neck. When that wasn’t enough, he placed one hand on your ass helping you to grind into him. He brought his other hand up your spine and grasped the back of your neck.

“Y/N, quick—do I need to pull out?”

He sounded out of breath, and all wound up.

“No, Harry, just come.”

With that something in him snapped. He grabbed your head in both his hands, roughly dragging his thumbs over your lips. “Y/N, look at me.”

You grabbed his face too and held his stare as you felt his warm release spill inside you. He continued thrusting until he was spent, never letting go of your face. When he stilled, he rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes.

He was the first to break the silence. “Well, that was quite something, huh?”

You laughed. “Jesus, Harry. You should just wife me right now because I don’t know how anything would ever feel that good ever again. You’ve ruined men for me so you should take some responsibility.”

Harry laughed that gorgeous full-chested laugh of his then tapped your thigh, indicating he wanted you to get off his lap. “Ah, careful, Y/N.” He was so sensitive over his penis sliding out of you. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and laid down on the bed. You told yourself that in a second you would get up and clean yourself, but for right now, you just needed a minute to catch your breath.

Harry got out of bed and slipped his pants back on. His first stop was to the hall closet for a hand towel. Next, he went to the kitchen and filled two glasses with ice and grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Honey from the freezer. He turned on the tap in the kitchen sink and waited for the water to warm up. While he waited, he grabbed a bar of dark chocolate, knowing you couldn’t handle straight alcohol without something sweet.

Harry grabbed a serving tray off the counter and loaded everything on it before checking the water temperature. It was warm enough to sting his hand – just the right temperature for you. He soaked the towel thoroughly then wringed it out, trying not to burn himself on the hot water. How you enjoyed water that hot was beyond him.

When he got back to the room you were still in bed.

“Here, take this.” Harry set the tray on the bed and handed you a glass of ice. He filled it with chilled whiskey.

“Thank you, Harry. That’s so thoughtful.” You took a sip and grimaced even though you enjoyed the flavor.

“But wait! That’s not even the best part yet!”

Harry pulled the warm damp cloth from the tray and grabbed you by the back of your leg, just under your knee. It was one of your sensitive spots and was almost enough to make you want round two. He began wiping your thighs and cleaning you up.

“Wow. Aftercare? I’m impressed, Har. You this nice to all your partners?”

“A few,” he smiled up at you when you brought your glass to his lips and tilted it to give him a drink. You watched his throat as he swallowed. “Usually, I wear a condom so there isn’t this big of a mess.”

“Just a few? Aren’t I lucky, then?”

“You got that right,” he winked. “Only the best from my best friend. Look!” Harry reached behind him then held up the bar of dark chocolate. “I even remembered that you can’t drink it straight without something sweet.”

You giggled. “Wow. VIP treatment tonight.”

Harry finished cleaning you up the chucked the towel into a hamper near the bathroom door. You sat up and poured him a glass which he gladly accepted then laid down. You broke off a piece of chocolate and held it out to him. He grabbed it with his mouth and thanked you.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” Harry asked even though his mouth was still full of chocolate.

You sat up and faced him. “Depends. Do you wanna stick close and go into town or do you want to take a little drive to the coast?”

“Mmmm. That’s a tough one. Why don’t we play it by ear?”

You playfully nudged him. “You mean you don’t have tomorrow all planned out already? Another?”

“Yes, please.” Harry held his mouth open waiting for another piece of chocolate.

“If we stay in town, we can go to that cute little restaurant we saw on the way up.” You tapped his shoulder as if it would jog his memory.

Harry nodded his head but otherwise stayed quiet. He finished his drink then set it down on the tray at the end of the bed.

“I don’t know about you, but I think I need another shower. I worked up a good sweat and now my skin feels all tight and sticky.”

“Can I join?”

“That depends. Are you going to want the temperature scalding hot?”

“Maybe. But I know you love it when someone washes your back for you.”

“Alright, you can come with. But I want you to scrub my back really well. Few minutes at least.” Harry had a playful look in his eyes.

“Deal.”

“Well alright then. Lead the way,” Harry followed behind you, watching as you opened the glass door to the spacious shower and turned on the water.

You stuck your hand under the water and looked at Harry. “This good?”

Harry leaned into the shower stall, a hand on the small of your back. “I guess. Unless you’re willing to turn it down just a tiny bit?”

“Not a chance.” You stepped into the shower under the stream of water. He always knew you were beautiful, but tonight was something else.

“You’re making me want another round,” Harry smiled as he slipped off his pants and stepped in the shower, closing the door behind him.

“Funny, I was thinking that earlier when you were cleaning me up.” You twirled your finger in a motion that asked him to turn around. “Pass me the body wash please.”

Harry passed the bottle and waited until he felt you press a soapy loofah to his back. You placed your other hand on his back to steady yourself as you ran the loofah over his back and sides.

“You know, that was pretty good for me, too. Maybe we can do it again. I mean, there’s no harm, right?”

“Yeah. Until one of us gets into a new relationship,” you agreed.

Harry laughed, “Why would I need someone else?”

You hit him on the back with the loofah before scrubbing him. “What do you mean? I’m not sleeping with you while you’re sleeping with someone else.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, why would I need someone else when I have you? With you I have companionship, someone there when I need them. You give me advice and now I know that we can have some of the best sex I’ve ever had together? What more do I need? We already kind of plan our futures with the other in mind. So… why involve anyone else? I have it made now.”

Both of you laughed.

“Here. You finish up.” You handed him the loofah and grabbed the shampoo. You began to wash his hair.

“What about love? You can live without someone to romantically love?” You ran your fingers through his hair, cleaning his curly brown locks.

“I don’t know, Y/N. You keep screwing me like that I think I could get to romantic love. I already love you; I just need a couple more orgasms like that to tip me over the edge.”

You held his arms for stability as you bent forward laughing. He held you back and joined in your laughter.

“You’re terrible. Wash up.” You pushed him under the water and watched as he closed his eyes and washed the shampoo from his hair.

“’Kay, your turn.” Harry lathered his palms with shampoo and worked it into your hair by massaging your scalp. You hummed with pleasure, loving it when someone rubbed your head.

“Remember Adriana?”

You didn’t open your eyes to answer him, “Of course. You were crazy about her.”

“I was. But we agreed we weren’t the best for each other.” Harry began to clean the rest of his body. “We actually argued once because she thought we were too close.”

“Sorry, Harry. She wasn’t too far off the mark, though. I mean, look at our history. And then this evening—” You trailed off not finishing your thought.

“Can’t argue that,” Harry chuckled.

Harry placed a hand on your waist to trade places with you so you could rise off.

“I think I’m good without a girlfriend. How about you? Think you’ll get back into the dating game?”

“I don’t know.” You turned to look at Harry. “Done?”

“Yeah. I’ll grab our towels.”

You turned off the water and Harry took a step outside of the shower stall and handed you a towel.

You continued your thought as you dried yourself. “I mean, I think I’m good for now. You’re right that we already have a lot of the components that make a relationship fulfilling. I wouldn’t mind exploring a more physical relationship with you because I already know I can be open and trust you.”

Harry grinned from ear to ear. “I’m always right.”

You playfully smacked his chest and moved past him out of the shower.

“Love you, Y/N.”

You smiled at him but didn’t say it back.

“Y/N! I said I love you.”

Again, you didn’t respond, only nodding. You knew Harry could not handle it when you didn’t say it back.

“Y/N! Say it back!”

Instead, you wrapped the towel around you tighter and scurried back to bed.

“Brat! Come here and say it back to me!”

Harry followed after you and grabbed you with both arms causing you to yelp. He pinned you to the bed and tickled you.

“Say it back, Y/N. Say you love me back and you can end this.”

“Harry, please!” You cried out between giggles.

“Just say it. Three words and I’ll let you go.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

“Wrong.” He wrapped your hair around his hand to expose your neck. He blew raspberries on the sensitive skin behind your ear.

“Okay, fine! I love you! Are you happy now? Shit!”

Harry playfully pushed your head into the bed and rolled off of you.

You acted mad but Harry knew better. “Was that so hard?”

“No, but I can’t let you have everything so easily. Someone has to keep you in check.”

“So like you. Difficult for no reason.” Harry winked but you still threw a pillow at him.

“You sleeping here?” You had already hung your towel up in the bathroom and crawled in bed again.

“Might as well. I’m already here, right?” He got in bed and pulled the blankets up to his waist. “Do you mind if I sleep naked?”

“I don’t think that after today you ever have to ask that question again.”

Harry chuckled. “Come here. Since we’re being touchy feely, I want to cuddle you in my sleep.”

You scooted closer and relaxed into his arms, your back against his warm chest. He swung a leg over your legs.

“Don’t get upset when my morning wood pokes you.”

“Harry! You’re terrible! Go to bed.”

“Y/N? Wake up. Your breakfast is gonna get cold.”

You opened your eyes to see that Harry had made omlettes with the leftovers from last night’s dinner.

“See, this is why I took the room with the view. I had tea in my room and still had time to make breakfast before you woke up. You missed a hell of a view.”

You smiled, and looked over at the clock and saw it wasn’t yet 9:00. “Dude, it’s still so early, I’m sure the view is just as nice now as whenever the hell you woke up.”

“You’re something else. Scoot over, would you?” He got in bed and handed you a plate then grabbed his from the bedside table.

When breakfast was done you put the dishes in the kitchen then brushed your teeth. You had yet to get dressed after last night’s shower.

“Hey, Y/N? I’m feeling very frustrated again.”

You laughed, “are you now?”

“Come here.” Harry patted the bed beside him.

When you came near enough, he placed a hand on the side of your face and pulled you in for a kiss. You laid on the bed next to him and he immediately brought a hand between your legs.

“Are you always so eager?” You smirked at him and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“You have no idea. You better get used to it. Especially if you insist on walking around with nothing on.”

Any response you had dried in your throat. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything else other than the growing pleasure between your legs.

“Y/N. I want to try something with you.”

Harry looked at you nervously, but you only smiled. “Anything.”

“You’re going to regret having said that,” Harry said with a mischievous grin. He laid down on his stomach between your legs. “Still with me?”

“Yes.” You could barely breathe. The anticipation only made you more wet.

Harry wrapped his hands around your thighs and began to kiss your legs, making his way to your core. You let out a low, breathy moan. Even when he was teasing Harry was amazing. Without warning he licked your folds, causing you to cry out. He sucked on your clit before lapping up more of your arousal. He added his fingers and slowly pumped in and out of you, watching you squirm.

“Harry. Come here. I need to feel you.” You ran your hands through his hair.

Harry seemed to be ignoring you. He licked at your insides while he continued to pump his fingers. You caught how he was grinding his hips on the bed and felt a shiver run through your body.

“I’m so close,” you panted.

Harry moaned in response then brought his thumb up to rub your clit. His tongue was still lapping at your folds and licking your insides. Before long you felt yourself shaking as you climaxed.

When your legs had stopped trembling Harry climbed up your body. He kissed you deeply and pressed his body to yours, grinding against your hips. You were so slick he plunged into you without having to guide himself into you.

“You feel so good, Y/N. I’m never leaving this spot between your legs.”

As Harry pumped into you, you thrust to meet his hips. Deep and desperate moans filled the room along with the sounds of your bodies slapping together and the bed creaking.

“Fuck, I’m getting close.”

You wrapped your arms around him in response and dug your heels into his ass in an attempt to bury him deeper within you.

“Y/N, do I have to pull out?” Harry was panting, not slowing his pace at all.

“Inside. Always inside. Give me everything you got.”

With that, Harry came. He drained himself inside of you, his hips only slowing to a stop when he became too sensitive. Harry kissed you with a big smile on his face then laid down next to you. He rubbed your lower stomach—something you could get used to.

“You know, if we keep going raw like that we’re going to end up with an unplanned pregnancy. Especially with how forgetful you are with your meds.”

You smacked his chest playfully. “Hey! I am so much better now. It’s been ages since I’ve forgotten.”

Harry smiled and kissed you on your forehead.

“We should probably invest in condoms. I’m going to want to do this all the time. We could put them on an auto delivery.” You giggled and interlaced your fingers with Harry’s.

“Yeah. I’ll look into it as soon as we get back home.” Harry fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. “Or I could just get a vasectomy. Unless you want kids. Do you want kids?”

“Harry!” You burst out laughing. “We just started this…friends with benefits thing yesterday. Now you’re talking about vasectomies and children?”

“It’s a conversation we should have if we’re going to be sleeping together. Have you changed your mind since the last time we talked about kids?”

“You’re right,” you sighed. “Uh, no. I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Well, your whole ‘if it happens, it happens’ stance is not a solid plan.” He laughed before kissing your forehead. “Such a wishy-washy approach could make things difficult later if something unplanned does happen.”

“What would you do if we go back home, and a couple weeks from now I miss my period. What do you want? Could you raise a kid with your best friend?”

“Absolutely. We’d be great parents.”

“Be serious!” You laughed, causing Harry to laugh too. You cuddled up to him and rested your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and gave you a loving squeeze.

“So, we actively take steps to make sure it doesn’t happen. Which may or may not include a vasectomy so I can keep enjoying you without a barrier between us.”

“Sounds like a solid plan.”

“But it still doesn’t address the unplanned. What’s our move then?”

“Um…then we have a child. We raise it with all the love we can.”

“I can handle that.”

Harry rested his head against yours and went quiet again. You were rubbing his arm when Harry blurts out, more to himself than to you, “what if we just get married now?”

“The fuck is going on in your head that that is where you ended up?”

“No, listen. I’ve been telling you for years your insurance is too expensive, whereas mine is quite reasonable. If we do become parents-to-be it would be so much cheaper and convenient to have you on my insurance plan.”

“So, I’ll join your insurance plan. Why do I have to marry you for that?”

“Because I don’t have the option to add best friends to my plan. Immediate family only like spouses.”

“Okay, well, if that happens Vegas is only a 6-hour drive from home. We’ll get married and I’ll get on your insurance plan. Deal?”

“Deal.” He snuggled you closer.

“You know, if this is your idea of pillow talk, I no longer wonder why your relationships haven’t worked out.”

Harry playfully shoved your face away onto your own pillow. “Brat.”

“Damn. Maybe we should get married. Think of what we’d save not paying for two mortgages.”

“Now you’re talking. I’ll start planning the wedding.” Harry chuckled then winked at you.

“You should probably start planning for a future where I leave you and move across the country because you drive me insane.”

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You looked up at him expectantly.

“Shower first?”

“Fine. But this time you have to scrub my back!”

Part Two

#Harry Styles #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #hs fanfic

146 notes · View notes

prettybbychim · 5 months ago

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[this became much longer than i intended whoops]

u know i think it would’ve been much better if the ode of resurrection was not shown to us immediately, and wasn’t a main part of their culture. have people die throughout the archon quest, make us believe that there’s no saving them. kill off kachina at the start and convince us that she’s the first playable character in genshin thats not alive.

build up these bonds, forge these friendships, make us care.

just to take it all away

that’s war.

but there’s a tiny flame, that glimmer of hope. maybe it’s something the pyro archons have been working on, passing it down to their successors. something mavuika has been working on. yeah u heard that right she’s actually doing something wow get citlali in there to help out. get the whole goddamn tribe involved idc

there’s a scramble to find the last of the heroes. they don’t want to force it or fuck something up but they’re running out of time. the abyss is coming. it will consume the nation. they need to fucking buckle up and get down to it.

they could probably still go into the night kingdom to search for kachina, so that mualani can get her ancient name. or it can occur under entirely different circumstances. haven’t given that much thought yet. do they find her?

do they find her and can’t actually bring her back to the surface?

for the next part, we’re gonna have to shake things up because we need the captain on our team sooner rather than later. how that happens is up in the air but regardless, we put aside our differences to save natlan.

so, we help the captain find old dragon tech. maybe we enlist the help of kinich and ajaw, maybe we go into ochkanatlan, tie some of that shit in. we can take iansan along too, who is super duper strong and can carry all our fancy dragon tech or smth idk the three of them need more involvement !!! ajaw would drive me up the wall but it’s a necessary evil

in ochkanatlan, we see how the abyss can mimic lifeforms. the twin is in irminsul right? maybe it’s steals the twin’s image, but the traveler knows it’s not them because their twin would never say things like this. we learn that they abyss manifestations are (always?) twisted and mutilated.

we see the dragon. we don’t defeat it, that’s for the world quest lol but we get the image of the dragon in our minds so that when it shows up later down the line, we know what the fuck is happening lol

on our trip, we learn bits and pieces about the captain. it’s all disconnected, nothing makes sense. and since we’re nosey little fuckers, we find correspondence with the tsaritsa in his belongings.

capitano is gentle with his body. maybe a little too gentle. it catches the traveler’s eye but they don’t know what it means, they have no grounds for suspicion. it’s blown off as recovering from his duel with mavuika. (little do we know that he was hit directly in the heart and he’s worried, goddamnit)

ororon lets it slip that something feels off with the captain’s soul. (could the captain be using ororon’s sensitivities to monitor the souls housed inside him? would he eventually tell ororon what’s going on? or would that be too risky?)

ororon receives ancient name same as before, nothing really needs to change there i suppose. more suspicion is thrown on the captain because of the identity of the soul trying to possess ororon. maybe the captain didn’t share his plan in its entirety, he has a lot riding on this, he can’t afford to fuck it up, and keeps his cards close to his chest. he and mavuika can still argue in front of ororon like mom and dad lol

chuychu dies. she doesn’t get to give a long goodbye. she bleeds out in her sister’s arms. (they actually try to stop the bleeding and give her medical care) chasca goes berserk hell yeah, there’s a struggle. she manages to rein herself in, the love between sisters reigns supreme. chasca gets her ancient name

boom u got all ur heroes. they supercharge mavuika to beat back the abyss core thing. what was its name? gilgamesh? i don’t fucking know

the losses are extreme

fast forward a bit bc i’m losing steam and attention span here

we dive back into the night kingdom to track down the “brain” of the abyss corruption. the people we’ve met and lost in natlan help us out. kachina can be added to the mix. the gay lovers, chuychu and her pokémon team, boba and coconut — the whole gang’s here yooo i actually loved this part. favorite section by far

and after our trip in ochkanatlan, we know that the dragon we’re fighting is an abyssal manifestation. the voices of the previous pyro archons are their own but the words are all wrong, designed to discourage and distress us.

we defeat it using the power of friendship (i’m gonna kms)

also mavuika’s kit is completely different. i’m giving her a redesign fuck it. but that’s a post for another time.

traveler seems pretty good ngl i just wish the cons aren’t limited to fighting the dragon. i really liked what i was seeing and then they pooped all over my party (what’s the point!!!)

instead of a big parade, we gather around together at the stadium to finally try the thing all the pyro archons have been cooking. the heroes are a necessary component.

the incandescent ode of resurrection

among the many, kachina comes out of the flames. mualani sobs her heart out and vows to never let her out of her sight ever again

chuychu perhaps? 👀 pls pls she’s the only one besides cap and ororon that i give a shit about pllssssss playable chuychu when? her design is fantastic as is u dont need to touch it PLEASE—

now we can have a party!! after everything is all said and done, we can have One party instead of the five or so we’ve had since we came to natlan. (nation of war? more like nation of fiestas)

ororon, though, feels uneasy, and not because of the atmosphere. he says he’s going to find the captain, but he can’t explain why. concerned, the traveler and paimon try to follow him but are intercepted by citlali, who is for once not freaking out about ororon’s whereabouts, instead…

oh but wait. where’s mavuika gone? oh nooo

plays out relatively the same i suppose. could use some tweaking but not anything significant enough to mention right now.

except now we have somewhat of an understanding of the captain already, all the little bits and pieces we noticed, and the clues we (so rudely) discovered, it’s all starting to make sense now. we’ve also spent more time w him, the emotional attachment runs deeper, and it’s much more painful to experience.

bittersweet

mavuika is confused, especially in the days coming after. she had planned to die then. she said her goodbyes in a roundabout way. she finished the painting of her family, so they’ll never be forgotten. she saved her nation from the oppression of the abyss, resurrected so, so many. there was only one thing left to do… she was supposed to be the one to do it.

what does she do now?

what does she do with herself now, when she hadn’t planned for her own future? it was supposed to end, she was supposed to die. could she have reunited with her family? could she have seen them once again? she’s sad over what could have been, she’s confused because how did it end up like this, she’s mad because the captain stole it from her, she’s guilty because he was ultimately the better choice

what do you do when you’ve spent hundreds of years waiting for your destined day? when you’re only ambition has been this.

it’s time to learn how to live.

the end~

#this is a proof of concept and a stream of consciousness more than anything #so don’t take it all that seriously #but still. we had some good puzzle pieces but their placement was haphazard #i’m fairly certain i forgot a good few important bits but eh. what can u do this is just a ramble #a rant disguised as a storyline #genshin spoilers #5.3 spoilers #archon quest spoilers #natlan spoilers #genshin rewrite #what if i just wrote my own fic then what #that’d be so much fucking work tho OOF #it’s not just mavuika who needs character revision 😵‍💫#and keeping all the lore straight… brother i simply could not #do i tag all the characters i guess perhaps i should #sigh here goes #mavuika #capitano #ororon #kinich #kachina #mualani #citlali #xilonen wasnt mentioned here but i’d make her less of an insane tony stark #also more harbinger lore. if we’re reading capitano’s diary then imma ask him about his coworkers too hell yeah

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anonymous-dentist · 1 year ago

Text

Or: Soulmates share their dreams every night and can communicate in them, but it's Spiderbit

For day three of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Soulmates

Dream One: How to Train Your Dragon

He blinks awake and finds himself far from the battlefield. His clothes are dry and not muddy, his skin is clean, his teeth feel dull in his mouth.

He's in a strange room: fireplace, stiff bed beneath him(but, really, any kind of bed is better than what he's had since the War started.) The smell of cooked fish.

He grimaces. He likes cooked flesh better, thanks.

This is a dream. He knows it's a dream, so he doesn't hesitate in hopping out of bed and stretching. There isn't a burn in his muscles, and the dull ache of his growing bones is finally gone. Heck yeah.

It's peaceful, in a way. Weird, but peaceful. Really disconcerting, but peaceful.

And then a monster screeches outside loud enough to shake the windowpanes.

He instinctively reaches for his sword, realizes that, right, dream. Of course he wouldn't have his sword in his dreams, that would be stupid.

He runs outside, anyway, because duh. If there's a monster, he wants to see it!

He sees the dragon first: large and yellow and missing one of its legs. It growls at him with a weird dragony smile, and he smiles back.

He sees the child second: short with messy hair and freckles. He gasps when he sees him and runs at him with a gap-toothed smile.

"Hi!" he chirps. He's speaking Portuguese, but that isn't what his mouth is saying. Dream stuff, huh, must be translating everything.

Neat.

"You're my soulmate, right?" the boy asks. He looks him over appraisingly. "You aren't that much older than me."

He scoffs, crosses his arms. "I'm literally so much older than you."

"Yeah? Well, how old are you, then?"

He blinks, throat dry. "I'm-" (He can't remember. But Bad always says that he looks to be about 13, so...) "-13. So I'm way older than you."

The boy puffs his chest out annoyedly. "Only by a few years. Screw you!"

The dragon flies off, bored. He would care more if there wasn't an annoying little kid in front of him pissing him off.

He takes an angry step forward, arms falling to his sides and hands balling into fists. He might not have his sword, but he can still beat up a kid easy.

"Screw you!" he shouts. "Get out of my dream! I wanna go hang out with the dragons."

"It's our dream, idiot," the kid huffs. "We're soulmates, duh. My grandpa says that everyone shares dreams with their soulmates, so we're obviously soulmates."

"What the fuck is a soulmate?"

The kid gasps, all anger pouring out of his tiny little body. "You don't know what a soulmate is?"

He doesn't know what his own name is, but he isn't exactly gonna tell some kid that.

He turns to leave and go find the dragon, but he's stopped by both of the kid's tiny hands grabbing his sleeve and pulling at him until he stays.

He turns to look at the kid, and the kid smiles and explains.

"Soulmates are, well, soulmates, okay? They're like super best friends, that's what my grandpa says. His soulmate is dead, but they still hang out in his dreams because that's where your soulmate lives until you find them. And after you find them, too, I think, but I dunno. He says he never met his soulmate before they died, but I think he's lying 'cause he's really silly sometimes."

"Okay, but. Us? You and me? You're a kid."

"You're a kid, too, you know."

"Nuh-uh. I'm a soldier."

"A kid soldier. But, anyway, we're soulmates! When we meet in the real world, we're gonna be best friends, I can tell!"

"Yeah? Well, don't be too sure. I don't do friends."

"Wow, you're emo."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?!"

Dream Thirty-Two: Cyberpunk

He laughs as he chases the kid through the slimy, neon-ridden back alleys of the city. He's on a motorcycle, because of course he is, but the kid is on foot.

"Just give up already!" he shouts.

The kid flips him off over his shoulder, grinning widely. He keeps tripping over his own shoelaces, because he's running like an idiot, but he's somehow still faster than the motorcycle.

He doesn't know the kid's name because the kid decided it wouldn't be fair to have a name when he doesn't know his own. Sweet kid. Shame he's annoying.

"Fuck you!" the kid replies. He then proceeds to trip over the cuff of his pants and fall right onto his face in a muddy puddle.

He cackles triumphantly and slows the bike to a stop. He hops off it and goes to poke at the kid until he gives up, but... but he's crying. Quietly, he's crying quietly, but his shoulders are shaking, and, oh, right, he's a child. He's the younger one.

His face falls. He kneels next to the kid and helps him sit up with a frown.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

The kid's lip wobbles, and his eyes shine, but he nods. "It's just a dream. It doesn't really hurt."

He isn't convinced, but, well. It is a dream. Nothing matters in a dream, right?

"Okay," he hesitantly says. "Come on, let's go play laser tag or something."

The kid's eyes light up. "Cool! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Oh, really?" he challenges. "You're on!"

And they run off, motorcycle forgotten.

"How did you beat me!?"

"I'm just a God Gamer, dude. Get on my level."

"You are so annoying."

Dream Seven Hundred and Fifty-Two: High School

"I think I'm going to give myself a name," he announces.

The kid's eyes widen. "Really? Took you long enough."

He rolls his eyes, but the kid isn't wrong. They've been meeting in their dreams for, what, two years? And they still don't have anything to call each other but "idiot" and "you" and "asshole".

But, well, it's about time, he thinks. The War is ending soon, he thinks. Bad says so, at least, and he's pretty good with knowing when things end.

With the War ending, he's going to have to go out into the "real world"... if he doesn't manage to follow Bad where he goes next. But where's the fun in that?

He shrugs. "I need a name. If I don't have one, I can't join the army."

"Why do you wanna join the army?"

"So I can keep killing people, duh. How else am I supposed to get food?"

"Uh, the store?"

"What's that?"

The kid rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder. "You're literally stupid, what the heck?"

They're in some kind of food line, he thinks. They shuffle forward as the faceless teenagers in front of them get their trays and continue through the line.

He picks up his own tray and wrinkles his nose at the food he sincerely hopes isn't about to be placed on it. Where's the meat?

"What kind of name do you want?" the kid asks.

He's hit some kind of growth spurt, because he's finally up to his shoulder. Still short, though. Loser.

"Dunno," he responds. "I'll think of something later, probably."

"What about... Peter?"

"No."

"Miles."

"No."

"Miguel."

"No."

"Ben."

"No."

"You suck!"

Dream One Thousand and Ninety-Five: Mermaids

"Call me Cell," he says.

The kid- not quite a kid anymore, much closer to Cell's age when the soulmate dreams started- cocks his head curiously.

"Like, as in a cell phone?" he asks.

Cell grins as shark-like as the tail he's currently sporting.

"Exactly," he says.

The kid's eyes narrow. "Or, like in a prison cell. Did you kill someone again?"

"...Maybe, but-"

"Oh my God, how are we supposed to meet each other if you're in jail!"

The kid swims around in a frustrated circle around Cell, who just watches him, placid. Calm. Totally cool, definitely not at all sheepish over pissing his soulmate off.

That would be ridiculous.

Cell doesn't get sheepish, and he definitely doesn't feel regret. Not over some kid.

...Some kid who's his soulmate. They're best friends already, though, so he should be fine with Cell being stuck in prison for a bit.

Cell rolls his eyes and reaches out and grabs the kid and stops him from swimming. He looks him in the eyes, and he smiles, softer than intended. (He's Cell! He isn't soft. He's a killer!)

"Calm down," he drawls. "I'll be out of here before you know it."

"Really?" the kid asks. "Is your sentence that short?"

"Nah, I'm gonna break out."

He lets the kid go and starts swimming off in a random direction, not waiting for the kid to follow. (He does.)

"Must be a shitty prison, then," the kid comments.

"Trust me, I'll be out soon, and then I can try getting up to Mexico again to see you."

"Then I can teach you how to drive."

Cell flicks his tail at him annoyedly. "Shut up, I can already drive."

"No way."

"Yes way!"

They continue bickering and chasing each other through the coral until Cell feels consciousness tickling at him.

"Hey," he asks, "I told you my name. You tell me yours."

The kid smiles, and he does.

"My name is Roier."

"And my name is Cell."

"You already told me that, idiot."

"Oh, yeah."

Dream One Thousand, Eight Hundred, and Twenty-Seven: 1920s Mafia

Even in his dreams, he's dying. He's in a pool of his own blood with a couple dozen bullets plugged into his chest, but it doesn't hurt quite as much as the goddamn betrayal burning his skin from the inside out.

If he dies in the dream, he wakes up. Cell knows this, so he's more than a little annoyed about the whole dying thing. At least in his dreams, dying doesn't hurt.

The cops that killed him have already long gone. They may not have had faces, but Cell knows precisely who they looked like. All four of them were traitors, all four of them!

"Bastards," he spits. He groans as the movement of his tongue alone sets off flares of imaginary pain (because he can't feel pain in dreams, but he sure can imagine what it feels like) all throughout his body.

In the real world, he's starving to death in a cave. In the dream world, he's choking on his own blood.

Great.

His eyes slip closed, and he waits to wake up.

He doesn't react as a pair of heels click towards him.

"Cell?" Roier asks, but his voice is just the slightest bit off. But, then again, he is a teenager now. His voice is going to be doing all sorts of weird shit. "Oh my God, Cell! What the- hold on!"

Cell gasps as he's rolled onto his back. His eyes flutter open, and he sees... a girl? A girl in a really bad wig. With even worse makeup.

"Roier?" he mumbles. "What are you wearing?"

Roier looks down at himself- red sparkly dress and all- and blushes slightly. "I'm... trying something out. But what happened? You showed up in the dream and you ran off and I heard gunshots and you're so stupid, what the fuck?!"

He grits his teeth and smacks Cell lightly on the shoulder. But that's still enough to wrack Cell's body with pain.

"I'm sorry," he wheezes, eyes squinting closed once more. "I'm dying."

"It's a dream, Cell. I'm just pissed you're leaving this early. You just got here!"

"No, Roier. I'm dying. In the real world."

Roier goes quiet.

Cell swallows the blood in his throat and continues, "Pac and Mike and... and Guaxinim. They betrayed me. Left me on an island. I'm dying."

"You can't be," Roier faintly says. "We haven't met yet."

"Didn't your grandfather say he sees his soulmate in his dreams? We'll be fine."

"My grandpa is also senile. Cell, I- you're so stupid."

Something wet falls onto Cell's cheek, but it isn't rain. It never rains in dreams. It's always sunny.

Fuck. He made Roier cry. Maybe is a monster after all, and not in the good way.

The dream world starts dissolving, starting with Cell's fingertips. It... tingles.

Why can't real death be as soft?

"You better live, or... or I'll never talk to you again!"

"I... I'll try. Roier, I'll try."

Dream Two Thousand, Five Hundred, and Fifty-Five: My Little Pony

Tonight, he's a horse.

Why not.

It's his first dream in, what, two weeks? He hasn't slept long enough to dream. It's hard to sleep when all he sees until the dreams kick in is his own mistakes.

But, well. Cell turned 20 today (he thinks, he's still not sure about his actual age), and Felps got him drunk to celebrate. Drunk means sleepy, and sleepy means dreams, and dreams mean-

"Roier!" he calls, running through the streets of the pony town desperately. "I made it!"

Roier knows that he's been having trouble sleeping since his whole moral dilemma thing started after Alcatraz. He doesn't quite get it, but he's trying, and that's all that matters, right?

None of the faceless ponies pay Cell any attention as he goes, but that's fine. Fuck them. He promised his best friend that they'd see each other, and they're going to see each other.

He doesn't have to look too far, thankfully, because, a few moments in, a blazing red blur bolts out of the sky and tackles Cell to the ground.

"Happy birthday!" Roier exclaims.

He grins, wings flaring behind him. What's this called, a pegasus?

Roier's eyes widen, and his jaw drops in shock. "What the fuck, you're a unicorn? Lucky!"

Cell tries looking at his own horn, going so far as to go cross-eyed, but all he manages to do is make himself look goofy.

It makes Roier laugh, at least. That's good. He's been having... a rough time, Cell thinks. He's been quieter when they have been able to meet up. Something about his brother leaving to go to college: a child prodigy gone to an exclusive university and leaving his twin behind.

Cell can't imagine what it would be like to have a twin. Weird, right? Someone that looks just like him but is different? Yeah, no thanks.

(He gave up on any ideas of family a long time ago. Thinking about whoever he had before the War just makes him sad.)

"You're red," Cell intelligently says.

"And you're green. You look like shit."

Cell bites Roier's ear and smiles as Roier lets out an exaggerated scream.

"Missed you," Cell says, and he means it.

"Yeah, well, I didn't miss you at all," Roier sniffs.

But Cell doesn't believe him at all.

"I still can't believe your brother's name is Doied."

"Our parents weren't very original."

"Maybe you should do what I did and just pick a name."

"Fuck you, man, I like my name!"

"Lucky. I wish I could change mine. It's too... heavy."

"I mean, you already did it once. Just do it again."

"...You're right."

"I usually am."

Dream Four Thousand, Seven Hundred, and Forty-Eight: Medieval

Cellbit hasn't seen Roier for days, and he's maybe starting to freak out. Maybe. Just a little.

Just before he'd disappeared, Roier had mentioned winning some kind of lottery. He was excited, and Cellbit was excited for him. He'd been looking for his asshole twin brother for years, he deserved a break.

But then the break happened.

And Roier hasn't slept since, apparently.

But Cellbit sleeps every night, anyway, even if he'd much rather be spending his nights trying to figure out where the fuck his soulmate went. Because Roier's... Roier is his soulmate. They've been sharing dreams for thirteen years now, they're best friends, and Cellbit is dying without him.

Tonight's dream has Cellbit in a knight's costume drinking flavorless alcohol in a bar. Nothing has tasted right since Roier has disappeared.

He isn't dead, at least. If he was dead, then he would be in the dreams. So he's just... not sleeping. Somewhere. Somewhere not sleeping.

Cellbit's hand shakes with rage and fear as he raises his cup to his lips.

He isn't a killer anymore. Well, he is, but he only kills animals now. He's a butcher, but not in the serial killer way. In the... in the butcher way.

(His hands itch for more blood, but he's been trying to do better.

He can't meet Roier if he's in prison, after all.)

It's as he's drinking that the bar's door slams open and stumbling in comes Roier in fancy robes with a gold crown perched on top of his head.

Cellbit drops his cup and immediately gets off of his stool to rush to Roier's side.

"Roier, what the fuck?" he demands. "Where have you been?"

He pulls Roier into a tight hug, mindful of his armor.

God, is he crying? How embarrassing, but Roier's seen worse from him.

But:

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Roier asks.

And Cellbit's heart drops.

Roier wriggles free and looks Cellbit over. This... this can't be Roier, can it? Because there's no recognition in his eyes as he looks at Cellbit, and no slight blush as Cellbit looks at him.

Roier gasps. "Oh, wow. Are you my soulmate?"

Cellbit's eyes sting. "I- yes, Roier, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Kinda annoyed that you took so long, though."

Roier smacks Cellbit's shoulder.

Cellbit can't breathe.

"I'm 21, motherfucker!" Roier shouts. "What took you so long!"

"I've been here," Cellbit faintly says. "Roier, I've been here. What happened to you? You said you- you got invited to some island? And then you disappeared? What happened?"

Something sparks behind Roier's eyes, but it's gone as fast as it appears.

"I've been alone for years!" Roier exclaims. He groans and runs his hands through his hair, almost knocking the crown off his head. "God, what is Spreen going to think?"

"Spreen? Who's Spreen?"

And then Roier blushes, and he grins, and Cellbit feels sick to his goddamn stomach.

"Spreen is my best friend," Roier tells him, and Cellbit wants to kill.

"Where are you? In the real world?"

"On the island. Where are you? Maybe Osito Bimbo can bring you or something. We have train stations, there's gotta be special tickets for soulmates."

"I'm in Brazil. What island?"

"Quesadilla Island, of course."

Reality: Day One

Cellbit's head is killing him. Fucking... what happened? He can't... he can't remember...

"Cellbit, you doing okay?" Felps asks.

He seems fine, sitting on the ground and not at all caring about the literal shipwreck they're stuck in.

"Oh, sure, as Cellbit if he's doing okay," Mike scoffs. He's still not over the whole prison thing, but he'd been angry enough when hearing about Cellbit's soulmate being kidnapped to help kickstart the whole rescue mission.

What a good friend.

Pac rolls his eyes. "He's literally bleeding, Mike. Look at him!"

Oh, shit, is Cellbit bleeding?

He raises a hand to his head; it comes away bloody, oh.

At least it's stopped raining outside. Cellbit can't see much, trapped with the others in what might be some kind of office space just below-deck. But he can't hear the rain anymore, and he can't hear any thunder.

"I'm fine," he sighs. "I've had worse. We should-"

He's cut off by a shout from outside.

Pac's eyes widen comically. "This island is occupied?"

Apparently so, because in comes a whole stream of people through a single door inlaid in the far wall. Tall man in what has to be anime cosplay, slightly shorter man covered in... green goo? Woman in purple. Man in bucket hat. And...

Cellbit's eyes meet Roier's, and the world slots into place around them.

Cellbit stumbles up to the glass wall and presses his hands against it. So close...

Roier is much more hesitant to approach (he still hasn't found that Spreen guy yet, of course he's hesitant...), but he offers Cellbit a small, genuine smile.

(He's so much more handsome in person, what the fuck? When did this happen? He was shorter than Cellbit just a moment ago, he swears.)

"Finally," Cellbit breathes.

The crowd around them is drowned out by the sound of Roier's voice as he says, awed-sounding, "You actually came for me."

"Of course I did," Cellbit replies. He smiles. "We're soulmates, aren't we?"

Tears well up in Roier's eyes- happy tears, Cellbit knows him well enough to be able to tell the different by now.

And then the door opens.

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#guapoduo #spiderbit #i feel like i must say that any and all romantic feelings form after they're both 18+#i tried making that clear but yk. this is Not the reading comprehension site.

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