#or at least that's how it felt as i was hauling my suitcase up and down stairs in the métro

[hedgehog-moss]

Some photos I took in Parisian second-hand bookshops this week.

[littlcdarlin]

Event Horizon

summary: When you start university to do your master’s in physics, you are more than surprised to meet your professor: Joel Miller, an old friend of your parents' who moved away years ago. word–count: 15k warnings: professor kink, power imbalance due to Joel being reader's professor, illegal relationship (overage & consenting), dbf!Joel, big fat age gap (unspecified but written with early 20s & mid 50s in mind), unprotected piv, just overall daddy issues (no use of the word daddy)

note: Okay, time to tell you I am a big nerd and studied physics in uni. Truth is, I quit to pursue a career in the arts, so my knowledge of masters level physics is...a little rusty. Please be lenient with me if I messed anything up. Also, I know most people hate physics, but I promise Joel makes it hot. Warning: explanation of the Dirac equation as foreplay. Also, I'm European and have no fucking clue how the American education system works but I don't care enough to do research. Enjoy <3333

event horizon noun ASTRONOMY a notional boundary around a black hole beyond which no light or other radiation can escape. a point of no return.

Uni felt different at eighteen, when everything was about moving out, drinking beer at frat parties, and kissing boys who didn’t grow up in the same town you did. It was an exciting time, the degree itself fading into the background of all sorts of new experiences, but now that you’re doing your masters, you plan on focusing on your your grades more than on partying.

You enrolled in a new university, farther away from home, with a better physics program, and although you’ve grown up considerably, you still feel that tingle of anxiety you did when you first walked to your dorm, fresh out of high school. This time you won’t have to share with another student, spending your saved money on a bit of privacy that is a single dorm room, but still, you wonder if you’ll make friends here, or if you’ll spend your night hauled up alone, watching trash TV and crying because you’re lonely.

The room is small, blank, but functional with a bathroom you share with another student and a small kitchenette, and immediately you dream of all the ways you could decorate it. You didn’t bring much, just a big suitcase and a few boxes your Dad dropped off earlier. You feel slightly guilty for leaving your parents behind, but the relief outweighs the guilt – you won’t have to come home every Sunday for dinner, visits will be scarce. You love you parents, but the distance is much needed.

You get to unpacking your clothes, reveling in the fact that you can listen to music without headphones in your very own space. You could do it in your underwear, or naked, you could sing and dance along, and nobody would be bothered by it. It’s going to be a tough two years, the program you chose more than challenging, but a childish sort of giddiness fills you – no roommate to be considerate of, no parents to visit and take care of every week. This time in your life is about you, and only you – your career, but also your well-being. You promise yourself to do what makes you happy, instead of looking out for everyone else all of the time, and you’ll start by ordering Thai food and watching the trashiest movie with the hottest actors you can find on the little flatscreen you brought with you.

***

Your first lecture is Computational Physics – the one you’re looking forward to the least. The reason you decided to study physics at all was the predictable logic behind each problem, but the more you studied, the more complex the problems got, until they were impossible to solve analytically. Now you get to solve fluid dynamic equations and simulate quantum systems on a Monday morning instead of having a peaceful cup of coffee and taking a walk around campus.

The lecture hall is big, and you pick a seat that is neither too far away to be able to read the professor’s notes, nor close enough to immediately be pinned as an over-eager teacher’s pet. In the end, you plop down next to a girl who’s sitting alone, something about her shaved head and countless earrings making you think she wouldn’t make fun of you even if you didn’t understand a single thing all lecture.

"Okay if I sit here?", you ask somewhat timidly, trying hard not to sound too much like an eleven year old Ron Weasley boarding the train to Hogwarts.

"Please," the girl answers, "I don’t know anybody here."

"Did you move here, too?"

"Yeah, I’m from New York."

"You look it," you say with a smile, eyes drifting over her clothes and jewelry.

"Thanks…I guess?", she answers, her grin revealing a charming gap between her front teeth. "I’m Alva."

You introduce yourself, thankful to have found someone you can stick to already. Throughout the lecture you find out that apart from being much cooler than everyone else in the room, Alva has a biting sense of humor, and a near endless knowledge of computational physics. You make a mental note to ask her to study together, her explanations much easier to understand than the professor’s.

The two of you spend your lunch break together, and you tell her a little bit about yourself, but way too soon it’s time to go already – you have Advanced Quantum Mechanics in a different lecture hall. This you find way more interesting, basic quantum mechanics was one of your favorite lectures during your bachelor’s degree. As Alva and you sit down, you find yourself hoping you’ll be able to help her out this time, or you’d feel like a leech for making her help you with Computational. She doesn’t seem bothered, though, and keeps babbling happily about a band she recently discovered.

"– Britpop, but they only put out two albums. I think they were like a student band or something? They’re wildly underrated, I’ll send you a song, their debut is called The Sun Is Often Out."

Your thoughts start to wander off a little, eyes drifting over the old-fashioned chalkboards, when the door at the front of the lecture hall opens, and a tall man walks in – a man you recognize.

"Holy shit," you whisper, interrupting Alva’s rant about the Longpigs, and she turns her head to look at what you’re staring at.

"Damn," she says with a grin, "if I wasn’t gay, I’d want a piece of that."

"No," you snort, "I know him. He’s my Dad’s friend."

Alva opens her mouth to say something, but at that moment, Joel Miller steps forward, checking to see if the microphone is working, and introduces himself to the hundreds of students in front of him. His voice is deep, and as warm as you remember it, but that’s where the accuracy of your memories ends – your childish brain failed to register the tanned forearms and rolled up sleeves, the carelessly styled curls, the perfect side-profile. He’s got grey streaks in his hair now, which should send you into a crisis about time passing and your own little life being finite, but instead it makes your stomach swirl with something dangerous. Joel Miller, the Joel Miller, who organized backyard barbecues with your father and bought your favorite vegan sausages when your Dad rolled his eyes at you, who made strawberry lemonade instead of lemon, because he knew you preferred it, who helped you with your physics homework when you were graduating high school and didn’t rat you out when he caught you smoking at seventeen – he’s handsome.

There’s still a familiarity about him, the way he moves and talks, although it’s unsettling to see him in such a different environment. You’re used to band-tee-Joel, beer bottle and tongs in his hands, a breezy smile on his face. He looks different here, in a white button-down, with a stern expression on his face, as he’s reading the names on his list to check attendance. When he calls Alva’s name and she raises her hand, his eyes flicker upwards, but he doesn’t look at you. Still, your stomach lurches. If you listen carefully, you can detect that southern twang in his voice you’re sure most people would miss, and it fills you with satisfaction to know you’re the one who knows him best in this room – you’re sure half the lecture hall must see how attractive he is.

When he reads out your name, there’s a surprised lilt to his tone, and your heart threatens to skip a beat.

"Here."

Your eyes meet, and although his expression doesn’t change, he holds your eyecontact for a second too long. Alva nudges your side and grins.

Your plans about outshining Alva and returning the favor of helping with a lecture are quickly buried by Joel Miller’s beautiful hands – thick fingers holding a piece of chalk almost tenderly, twirling it around when he isn’t writing on the chalkboard. You vaguely register him introducing the Dirac equation, but as interesting as you would normally find it, your thoughts are stuck between memories of barbecues and the realization that you will have to call the man who taught you to drive Professor Miller.

If Alva notices your wandering mind, she doesn’t comment on it, which you’re thankful for. You do notice her throwing you a couple of knowing glances, as you copy down what Joel is writing down, mixing up gamma, delta, and the Dirac spinor.

"Alright, so you all know how Schrödinger’s equation works great for quantum mechanics, but it doesn’t play nicely with Einstein’s relativity, right? That’s a problem because electrons move fast, sometimes close to the speed of light, so we need an equation that respects both quantum mechanics and special relativity. That’s where Dirac steps in."

He’s still got that warm way of explaining things your Dad never managed when you needed help in high school, like he enjoys clearing things up for people. He’s a born teacher, patient when you panicked in the car because you confused the clutch and the break, persistent when you wanted to throw your physics book against a wall. Look, kid, think of it this way: Push harder, it moves faster. Make it heavier, it’s harder to move. If you apply a force F to an object with mass m, it will accelerate a. That’s why your Dad’s car takes longer to stop than your bike. Even now, he manages to make a far more complex equation than Newton’s second law tangible.

"Dirac's equation is like the grown-up version of Schrödinger’s equation. It explains how particles with spin-half, like electrons, behave when they move at relativistic speeds. The gamma mu matrices make sure the equation works in four-dimensional spacetime, meaning three space dimensions plus time. The psi is a spinor, which is just a fancy way of saying that an electron isn’t just a simple wave function, it actually has spin built into its nature. Now, can anyone think of a situation where we would need to use this equation instead of the regular Schrödinger equation?"

Nobody raises their hand, most people still busy with writing down Joel’s complicated notes, and as if on cue, his eyes are on yours when you look up from your notebook. He raises an eyebrow, and you see the corner of his mouth twitch almost imperceptibly. Then, he calls your last name, a formal Miss dripping off his tongue as if he hasn’t called you kiddo for most of your life. It’s almost like he’s making a joke only the two of you are able to understand, and the thought thrills you to your bone. Two can play this game – you smile back.

"Sure, Professor Miller. You’d use it for studying high-energy particles, like electrons in particle accelerators, because it accounts for relativistic speeds. It’s also needed for situations where particles are created or destroyed, which Schrödinger’s equation doesn’t cover."

Again, his eyes linger on yours, and his slightly amused smile turns into a more genuine one at your answer. You let out a relieved sigh.

"Exactly," Joel answers, his attention on the rest of the class again, "Someone payed attention during Basic Quantum Mechanics. Now, here’s where it gets wild. When Dirac wrote this down, he realized it naturally predicts antiparticles, meaning for every electron, there should be a mirror-image particle with opposite charge, which we now call the positron. That was a huge deal because it wasn’t something people were expecting, it just fell out of the math."

For the rest of the class, Joel doesn’t continue that little game between the two of you, but whenever he asks a question, his gaze flickers over you, and your stomach gives an embarrassing little jump. Alva grins whenever this happens, but for most of the class she’s busy following Joel’s explanations.

"I want you to read up on today’s lecture," Joel says at the end of the lecture, and writes down a few page numbers on the chalkboard, "and solve the problems I mentioned earlier. Attendance isn’t mandatory, we’re all adults here, but I urge you to come if you’re interested in graduating in the next three years. Trust me, it’s easier to just do the work here than in your dorms. Now, enjoy the weather, see you Monday."

You and Alva pack up your things, and before she can ask you which class you have next, you pick up your backpack.

"I’m gonna say hi to him," you tell her, nodding in Joel’s direction, "my Dad and him go way back."

"Sure," Alva says, a cheeky smile on her face, "it’d be rude not to."

"Meet you outside?"

"I’ll be at the vending machine. Go get him," she jokes, and you snort.

Joel is packing up his course materials when you make your way down the steps and to his desk, but he looks up when he hears you coming towards him, and immediately his face splits into a smile. If you were anywhere else and ten years younger, he’d probably ruffle your hair.

"Good lecture," you say, "Dad didn’t tell me you’re teaching again."

Joel puts his piece of chalk into a tin box and nods.

"I don’t think he knows. You know how it is, we never get around to callin’ and I haven’t been home in a while."

So this is a new development, perhaps even Joel’s first semester back at university, too.

"What about the contracting? Don’t you miss the…pipes?"

He chuckles at your lack in basic contracting knowledge, his eyes not moving from yours.

"Ah, that was always Tommy, he just needed a little help. Company’s doin’ well now, though, so he’ll manage without me."

You think you remember Tommy – a man good-naturedly chasing you and the rest of the giggling neighborhood kids with a harden hose – but the memory is too vague to be sure it’s really him.

"You’ve grown up," Joel says, almost accusingly, and you shrug and smile. "Doin’ your master’s already. How come you’re familiar with Dirac?"

His accent is much thicker now that it’s only the two of you, and you notice a hint of pride when he asks about your correct answer to his question during the lecture. The satisfied feeling it gives you is still the same as when he high-fived you after your drivers test, or when he patted your back after you solved a problem for school without his help.

"Summer reading," you admit, trying hard not to sound like a nerd, "Basic Quantum Mechanics was my favorite lecture as an undergrad."

Joel smiles at you, and puts his notes into his leather bag. He slings it across his shoulder, and nods towards the door.

"How would you like to grab a coffee and tell me all about what’s been goin’ on with you and your old man?"

Your eyes flicker briefly over his hand, gripping the strap of his bag, and you raise an eyebrow.

"What’s the policy for staff having coffee with their students, Professor?"

Joel holds your gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"I’m actually not sure, Miss, I’ve never had to check before."

He’s playing along, and it feels dangerously blurry – yes, he’s your Dad’s old friend, your childhood neighbor, but it feels like more than just joking around.

"Does that mean I’m your first, then?", you ask, voice sweet and close to flirting now. The smile freezes on Joel’s face, and his gaze becomes almost calculating.

"Am I yours?" he asks you softly, and the double-meaning behind his question isn’t lost on you. You feel a thrilling pang in your stomach – Joel Miller is flirting with you.

***

You do end up getting coffee after you tell Alva you’ll meet her later, Joel reassuring you it won’t get him into trouble, and you’re fascinated to see he still drinks it black. What fascinates you even more is that you remember how he takes his coffee, and you wonder why your brain filed this fact away as important, not to be forgotten.

"So, when did you graduate? Sorry I missed it."

There’s honest regret in his voice, which surprises you. Joel was always a warm person, but you figured he cared for you as much as he would have for any kid living across the street.

"Last June," you tell him, dropping a sugar cube into your cappuccino. "I spent the summer working, and now I’m here."

"How d’you like it so far?"

You give a nervous chuckle, torn between the honest truth and pleasant small talk. You opt for the former – this is Joel, after all, not some stranger.

"To be honest with you, I oscillate between enjoying my freedom away from Mom and Dad, and being scared shitless by starting over somewhere new," you admit, looking at your coffee. You haven’t told people about your fear, and it feels good to finally admit it – the grip your parents have had on you makes your newfound freedom almost uncomfortable.

"What d’you mean, startin’ over?", Joel asks, his voice strikingly gentle. You sigh, and shrug.

"I know the distance is good for me, but it was comfortable, just doing what my parents expected of me. I had good grades, nice friends, and just the right amount of drunken nights for them not to worry about my social life too much," you explain, "and now it’s like…there’s so much room to be someone else, cause they won’t see it anyway."

You look up, embarrassed to have spilt your guts like this, but Joel looks thoughtful, his thumb moving along the handle of his coffee cup.

"Sorry," you mutter, "I know they’re your friends, but they can be…"

"Overbearing?"

You smile at him gratefully and he smiles back.

"Look, I know your parents pretty well. They love you to bits, but as an adult I imagine it must be stiflin’.“

"Yeah," you sigh, grateful for his understanding, "I feel like I don’t know who I am when I’m not…their kid."

Joel nods, and sips his coffee, apparently pondering what you said.

"I promised myself I would only do what makes me happy while I’m here," you tell him sheepishly, as if it’s a secret, and Joel laughs.

"Well, I’m not expectin’ you to hand in any homework, then."

You grin, too, and shake your head. It’s surreal, Joel being your professor, and you wearing your heart on your sleeve for him.

"Don’t worry, Professor Miller, I’m not dropping your class."

"You’d better not, it’d really hurt my feelings," Joel says, eyes trained on yours. Again, that blurriness set in motion by the change of his role in your life: neighbor to professor to – what?

"What about you, though? This your first semester here?"

"Second," he tells you, "but I still don’t feel at home. Once a Texan, always a Texan, I guess."

You cock your head and watch him drain the last of his coffee, the cup tiny in his hands.

"What?" he asks you, curiosity evident in his voice.

"You look so different," you say, and Joel scoffs.

"Well, that’s real nice. Know I’m not thirty anymore, but geez–"

"No," you say with a grin, "it’s not that. I don’t know, I’ve just never seen you teach before. Or dressed this nice – I remember you mowing the lawn in a Fleetwood Mac shirt, not checking attendance in a button down."

Joel’s cheeks go slightly pink, and he scoffs again.

"Well, I can’t show up here in a band tee, can I? Gotta dress the part," he mutters.

"I get it. You suit it," you tell him, if only to see that blush appear on his face again. He looks up at you, holding your gaze for a couple of seconds, then he shakes his head.

"What were the odds of us meetin’ like this, huh? I gotta call your father and tell him."

Something about that bothers you, you’d prefer for your parents not to know. You like sitting here with Joel, reminiscing the old times, without anybody getting a peek in.

"Or not," he says gently, seeing the expression on your face.

"Sorry," you say, "course you can tell him."

"You apologize a lot," he tells you, and you fight the urge to say sorry once again. "It’s okay, I’m not tellin’ anyone, kid. ’S just you n me."

That pang in your stomach again, and you nod.

"Alright," you answer, "just us."

You get a refill for the two of you, and a blueberry muffin to split, which feels strangely intimate, but Joel pats his stomach and jokes about keeping an eye on his figure, so you grin, and ask the barista to cut it in half. Joel asks you about your friends, and you tell him about Alva.

"Oh yes," he says and swallows a bite of the muffin, "that punky lookin’ kid who sits next to you?"

"Yeah, she’s nice. Haven’t really met anyone else."

"Geez, I’m not keepin’ you from findin’ frat boys to hook up with, am I?"

You laugh, the idea of sitting here with a twenty-something year old kid named Cole or Josh instead of him so absurd, you can’t help it.

"No," you tell him, "I’m honestly enjoying the fact that I don’t have to have someone else in my dorm anymore."

"Well, that’s a relief to hear," Joel says, "they’re all dipshits."

You remember him telling you something similar about the boys in high school, and it makes you smile. He’s still got that protective streak, then.

"To tell you the truth, I’m glad you’re here," you say quietly, "if I’m not making any friends, I can come crying to you."

Joel watches you for a couple of seconds, not laughing as you intended, but taking your words seriously.

"Course you’ll make friends. Give it a couple of weeks, and you’ll have forgotten all about physics cause you’ll be skippin’ classes left and right to hang out with people."

You don’t tell him, but you think it’s very unlikely you’ll skip any of his classes. Still, you appreciate his words and how confident he seems to be in your ability to open up to people.

"Well, will you give me the answers to your exams if I skip your class?"

"No way," he says with a cheeky smile, the crinkles around his eyes prominent. "I don’t do preferential treatment. You wanna split another blueberry muffin?"

You grin.

"Thought you were watching your waistline."

"I am, that’s why I’m only eating halves."

***

Your afternoon with Joel leaves you on a high for the rest of the day, feeling much less lonely now that you’ve had a conversation beyond the usual so how many siblings do you have? and where did you do your undergrad?

You start spending your lunch breaks with Alva and some friends she made in another lecture, all of whom are very nice. In the evenings you all go to see a movie or have dinner together in any of your dorm rooms, and although you walk around campus holding out one eye for Joel, you don’t see him for the rest of the week. There is always a nudge of disappointment in your stomach, when you glance in the direction of his office, and the door is closed, but you’re so busy, you don’t dwell on it too much. The days pass in a blur of new lectures, swapping music with Alva, and evenings spent as a group of six, and suddenly it’s Sunday again. You aren’t too sad the weekend is already over, and you know exactly why you’re looking forward to Monday, but you don’t allow yourself to think about Joel any more than you can help.

In the afternoon, while you’re doing Joel’s assignment for the next class, your mother calls, and you answer the phone with a mixture of feelings.

Hi, my darling, how are you doing?

"Hi, Mom. I’m good, just doing my work for tomorrow. How are you?"

Good, good. How was your first week? Did you meet anyone nice?

Hah, if she only knew. It feels deceptive, not telling her about Joel, but you like that for now, he’s just yours.

"Yes, this girl called Alva. We and some guys hang out a lot, there’s a cinema near by, but the lectures are pretty hard, so we only have the evenings off."

Well, I’m glad you found some nice people! Dad says hi, he’s making dinner. Anyway, baby, we miss you terribly. Do you know when you’ll be coming home?

"I just got here, Mom."

You sigh so quietly your mother can’t hear it, guilt already nagging at your heart. Sunday is the day you would usually be coming home for dinner, and you know it’s no coincidence your parents called you now.

Of course, you’re right. It’s just not easy for your Dad and me, you know? You’ve never been this far from home, and you’re our baby.

Yeah, you think, your adult baby. You sigh again.

"I don’t know if I’ll come this month, I’m still sort of settling in. But I’ll let you know if there’s a free weekend next month, alright?"

Sure, that sounds great. Will you send us some pictures of your friends, and your room?

"Sure," you say, but it bugs you that you’re giving in. Already, you’re breaking the promise you made yourself, and letting your parents further into your life here than you’re comfortable with.

"Mom, I gotta go, I’ve still got some problems to solve and I’m meeting Alva for dinner soon."

Okay, darling, enjoy your night! And make yourself heard. I love you!

"Love you, too! Talk soon."

Your kind, clingy mother, whose greatest pain is not knowing if you’re safe. In a way you miss her, and you feel guilty for being annoyed. Still, you know you have to gently nudge her away from you, or she’ll suffocate you one day. It makes you angry with yourself, because you know your Mom would have liked nothing more than to hear all about your week, but as soon as she asked you a question, you felt like your seventeen year old self again, getting yelled at because you stayed up past your curfew, and your parents didn’t know where you were.

Tears of frustration spring to your eyes – the mix of feelings too much for you to handle. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, breathe in shakily, and try to focus on your assignment again, but now you’re riled up, and the tears won’t stop.

It’s hard for you to deal with disappointing your parents, forcing them away when they would like nothing more than to know everything that’s going on in your life. So, instead of preparing for Joel’s lecture, you cry on your bed, feeling lonely and angry with yourself for hurting them. You know your reaction is disproportionate, but everything you kept buried while you lived close to your parents comes bubbling out of you.

You call Alva, tell her you have cramps because of your period and just want to stay in bed. She’s understanding, asks you if there’s anything she can do, even offers to bring you takeout or a hot water bottle, which makes you feel all the worse for lying to her. You decline her offer, tell her you’ll meet her Monday morning. In the evening, you regret not letting her bring over a real meal, eating cold pasta in your underwear, tears still running down your face and making your head pound.

***

On Monday, you feel slightly better, your headache is gone and your face isn’t as puffy as you expected it to be. Still, you’re in a solitary mood, and are glad to find Alva is able to keep up an entire conversation virtually by herself – you just grunt from time to time, or give noncommittal movements of your head in vague agreement. You hope if she notices your bad mood, she just thinks it has to do with your period.

Computational Physics is hell – you dislike it on the best of days, but guilt ridden and tired, you’re barely able to pay attention at all, and the professor’s handwriting is so bad, you end up copying down Alva’s notes instead. She’s kind about it, slides over her notebook at an angle that makes it easy to read, and you make a mental note to thank her for being so kind to you while you’re offering nothing but a scowling expression all day. Maybe you’ll cook for her, or make a mixtape of your favorite songs, just to show her you’re interested in being actual good friends.

Lunch passes easily, as always you sit with Alva and the guys, and there’s enough people for you to stare at your mashed potatoes and repeatedly stab them with your fork instead of eating them. They taste like flour mixed up with water, and you dream up your father’s Sunday dinner instead, but it does little to help with the taste.

"So, you lookin’ forward to flirting with Miller in front of the whole lecture hall again?" Alva asks you, as you’re making your way to said room. You glare at her, but can’t help the corners of your mouth twitching.

"Wasn’t flirting with him," you answer, kicking a pebble, "I grew up across the street from him, I’ve known him practically my whole life."

"Whatever you say, grumpy," Alva teases, nudging your shoulder with hers. You’re overcome with a rush of gratitude for the way she treats you, persistently kind and humorous. You chuckle, your mood lifting slightly.

"He’s probably been waiting for you to turn legal," she continues, and you groan.

"Gross, Alva, he’s not a creep."

"I’m just saying, if your little connection gets you the answers to his tests, you could sell them and become rich."

"I already asked him, he said no," you say darkly, thinking of the nights you’ll have to spend studying to pass his exam. This makes Alva laugh her brilliant laugh, and you can’t help but smile, too.

"Damn," she grins, "I’d try if he wasn’t a guy."

You snort.

"You try with Professor Carter, I need the answers to Computational," you suggest, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

"You’re joking, but I bet once you get her out of her frumpy cardigans, she’s a real–"

"Okay, stop," you grown, the image of Professor Carter taking off her cardigans worse than her keeping them on – if possible. Alva giggles.

"I’ll help you with Computational," she says, "if you help me with Quantum Mechanics."

"You’re good at both," you argue, and Alva shrugs.

"Not like you, though. I spent like four hours doing Miller’s assignment last night."

You want to tell her you didn’t do it at all, but before you can open your mouth, she spots a friend in the crowd, grabs your arm and drags you over to him.

The three of you sit down together, closer to the front than the week before, which gives you a direct line of sight to Joel’s desk. When he walks in, your stomach jumps – he’s wearing a tie today, a dark burgundy or blue, you aren’t sure from this distance, flecked with specks of white. Again, his hair is styled in that carelessly disheveled look you like so much, and the image of him putting gel in it makes you smile. He gets out his materials for the lecture, and looks up, his eyes finding yours – you smile and he gives a small nod. Again you’re struck by how different he acts in front of the class, how serious he seems. You think of his laid back manner when you had coffee, and struggle to make the images align. Joel clears his throat, and the chatter around you stops.

"Quiet, please, everyone. Thank you. So, last week, we found out that Dirac’s equation predicts the existence of antiparticles. But instead of just accepting that, let’s think deeper—mathematically, what feature of the equation forces this conclusion?"

Joel jumps right into the lecture, and just like last week, nobody raises their hands – you curse the people around you for their lethargy, because sure enough, Joel’s eyes land on you. Before you can shake your head to signal to him not to ask you, he calls your name.

"If I remember correctly, you were already familiar with Dirac’s equation last week. What would you say, what does the existence of negative-energy solutions tell us, and why couldn’t we just ignore them?"

You wish you could answer him, know he asked you because he was sure you’d know the answer, perhaps hoped your enthusiasm for the subject would get the rest of the students to participate more, but you didn’t do the assignment, and you’ve already half forgotten his question. You swallow.

"Um…I…I’m not sure, Sir," you say, watching the way his brows furrow, and looking down at your notes. Alva shoots you a curious look, and when she sees your expression, she raises her hand. You’re thankful to have Joel’s attention diverted, feeling like a fool in front of hundreds of students you’re trying to make friends with.

"Dirac’s equation gives positive and negative energy solutions, and at first, the negative ones didn’t make sense. Dirac suggested they represent antiparticles, like the positron, which he predicted. The idea was that electrons could, like, jump into these negative-energy states, creating a hole that looks like a positron, which was later confirmed experimentally," Alva explains instead of you.

"You're close, but electrons don’t actually 'jump into' negative-energy states. Instead, Dirac proposed that these states are already filled, forming what he called the Dirac Sea. A positron isn’t an electron jumping down, it’s actually a 'hole' left when a negative-energy electron gets excited to a positive-energy state. That distinction is important because it explains why positrons have the opposite charge. Good answer, though, thank you Ms. Bennet."

Joel’s eyes flicker over to you again, but you show no reaction, and he continues with his lecture without asking you another question. Alva glances at you inquiringly, and you sigh.

"I wanted to do the assignment yesterday, but my cramps were really bad," you explain quietly, and she nods sympathetically.

"Call me next time, I’ll send you my answers," she whispers, and you smile gratefully. It seems you really hit the jackpot in friendship when you sat down next to Alva.

***

After Joel’s lecture, you and Alva make your way over to the vending machine, because it has the sour patches she likes, and in her own words she’ll combust if she doesn’t eat some right fucking now.

"Shit," she curses, "they’re stuck."

"Let me," a voice comes from a behind you, and when you turn around, Joel is smiling at the two of you. "Took me a while to figure this thing out, too."

Alva steps aside, and Joel bangs his palm against the side of machine. You jump, but the sour patches make their tumbling way down to the dispenser.

"Great! Thanks, Professor Miller," Alva says, ripping the bag open and offering it to the two of you. To your surprise, Joel takes her up on it, and Alva grins at you.

"You were quiet during today’s lecture," Joel says tentatively, when he’s swallowed his sour patch "everything alright?"

You glance at your shoes.

"Um, yeah. I wasn’t feeling well yesterday, and I left your assignment for last, so…I didn’t do it."

Joel’s expression grows worried, and Alva glances between the two of you.

"Hey, I’m meeting Max for coffee," she tells you, "see you later?"

"Yeah," you answer, grateful she’s granting you this time alone with Joel, "see you, Alva."

When she’s gone, Joel is still looking at you with that worried look on his face, and you sigh.

"Sorry about the assignment," you say, "won’t happen again."

"I’m not worried about the assignment," Joel says earnestly, but then he turns his head, and you know he doesn’t want someone listening in. Sure, you can be seen chatting in the university cafe, but this conversation is rapidly blurring the lines between scholarly and – something else.

"I…have some materials in my office that might make it easier for you to catch up with the lectures again," Joel tells you, and you understand the underlying meaning. Let’s talk in my office.

"Thank you," you say, relieved, and Joel nods, eyes still glued to yours, brows still furrowed. You walk to his office making smalltalk about the lecture, which to anyone listening in would seem like a normal conversation between a professor and an interested student.

Joel opens the door to his office for you, and lets you step in first. It’s small, cramped bookshelves on the walls and a sturdy desk in the middle that is littered with notes, pencils, books, and a couple of old coffee mugs. You notice he put part of his books sideways onto the shelves, which you find weirdly endearing. This is the Joel you know – clutter and warmth.

He closes the door behind you, and you turn around to watch him drop his bag and walk over to the kettle in the corner of the room.

"Coffee?"

"Please," you sigh, "if you don’t have anything stronger."

He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t answer, just turns on the already filled kettle, and gets two clean cups for the two of you.

"I only have drip coffee," he tells you, "I don’t drink that crap the machines brew up."

"That’s fine, I enjoy the medieval feel of it."

"Watch it," he answers, a smile tugging on his lips, "don’t insult my coffee filter in front of me."

You grin, and walk over to his bookshelf to have a look.

"So, what’s going on?" he asks you while pouring the boiling hot water over the coffee grounds. Again, the Joel you remember – empathetic, but unusually direct. You sigh, turn around and shrug.

"Mom and Dad called yesterday, and I could tell they missed me, but I just…I cut them off after two minutes."

Joel places the cups on his desk, and leans against it. His sleeves are rolled up again, and when he crosses his arms, you feel that familiar pang in your stomach.

"And now I…I don’t know, I feel so guilty, Joel. They’re not even being dicks about it, but I just know they’d prefer for me to check in with them more…and the worst thing is, I know it’s not a big deal. They’ll get over it, they’ve got a good life without me constantly in it, so I don’t know why my stupid brain can’t just let this go, you know? One I miss you, darling, and I’m reduced to this pathetic mess, instead of just, I don’t know, getting my shit together."

You shake your head and clench your teeth, once again embarrassed to come crying to Joel about your parental issues, but he’s the only one you can tell. Sure, Alva would probably listen, but you don’t feel like explaining your family to a near stranger. Joel just gets it. Joel knows you.

He’s looking at you, arms still crossed, and for a second you worry he might not want to hear about your little breakdown, but then he sighs.

"You have your shit together all of the fuckin’ time, kid, I think that might be the problem," he tells you quietly. "You’ve always been so hard on yourself."

He’s right, once again he sees what you struggle to show the world, and his words make tears spring to your eyes. You will your eyeballs to suck them back in, but of course, Joel sees.

"Hey now," he says, taking a tentative step towards you. One tear drops from the end of your lashes and down your cheek, and the dam is broken again – they come spilling in floods. Joel crosses the room in a second, and there is a slight moment of hesitation between the two of you, before you bury your face in his chest, and let your restraint fall. You cry quietly, feel him wrap his arms around you, as he rocks you back and forth.

"You’re alright," he tells you, "Shhh, it’s okay, you’re alright."

"S-s-sorry about the assignment," you manage, and Joel’s hand starts stroking your back.

"Jesus, kid, stop worryin’ about the fucking assignment," he tells you, voice low and worried. "You don’t gotta be so strict with yourself. You’re doin’ just fine."

He smells so much like home, you think you might never stop crying.

"I don’t know what’s wrong with me," you hiccup, "One week here and I’m a mess already."

You feel Joel rest his chin on your head, and his arms tighten around you.

"There’s nothin’ wrong with you, you hear me? You hold yourself to high standards. Creates pressure, kid."

As always, he’s right of course – you want to excel academically, you don’t want to hurt your parents, you want to stay true to yourself and do what makes you happy, you want to make friends without compromising your grades. It’s impossible.

You breathe in shakily, your eyes closed, face buried in Joel’s chest, and for a second he is all that exists – just Joel, all around you, pulling you to the earth. Slowly, your breathing calms, Joel still rocking you soothingly, holding you close.

"There we go," he mutters, when your chest stops shaking, "that’s good."

When you pull away from him, he puts his hands on your shoulders to really look at you, and although you’re embarrassed by your outburst, you’re glad he doesn’t shy away from you.

"I want you to start being a little more lenient with yourself, alright? You don’t need to worry about an assignment on top of everything."

His hands are rubbing your shoulders, his eyes are kind and warm.

"Maybe not about yours, but I have like five other lectures –"

"Okay, so try to stop worrying about my assignments, just mine. Won’t bite your head off if you don’t do them, and I’ll only ask you questions when you raise your hand, alright? In fact, for the rest of the term, I want you to hand them in late."

Despite yourself, your lips pull up in a small smile.

"That’s silly, Joel," you say softly, but he shakes his head.

"It’s not silly, it’s practice to get you out of your comfort zone."

You consider his words for a moment. You do keep a pretty tight reign on yourself, and just the thought of doing every assignment late makes your skin crawl with anxiety. But when will you get another chance to step out of your comfort zone as safely as now, with Joel? He’s offering you a way to try it without actually risking your grades. And who knows, perhaps it actually will take a little bit of pressure off of you.

"Okay," you answer, staring up at Joel with puffy cheeks and teary eyes. "Alright."

He smiles at you, but he still looks worried and you wish he’d pull you close to him again. It’s such a relief to have this sort of human contact with someone who really knows you.

"Feel better?"

You sigh, and nod.

"It’s just a lot, you know, uni and my parents, and every social interaction feels like such a chore, cause I don’t know people yet. I feel like I’m not even relaxed when I’m asleep."

Joel hesitates for a moment, before he speaks, but when he does, he sounds determined.

"Come over tonight, I’ll make us somethin’ to eat, and you don’t have to worry about talkin’ to anyone. We’ll watch whatever you’d like. You still enjoy those crappy horror movies?"

You smile at the shared memory – Joel letting you use his living room to watch slashers your parents didn’t want you to see. One summer, when the heat was so stifling you barely went outside, you practically lived at his place, and when you’d seen all the DVDs he owned, he got you more from the video store.

"I do," you say quietly, the fact that Joel remembers more important to you than his proposal to spend the evening together. You feel significantly less alone, all of a sudden.

"Alright, then. Be over at seven,“ Joel tells you, and you nod, wiping your wet face with the back of your hand.

"Thank you, Joel," you say, and hug him again, because you don’t know how to tell him in words what you’re feeling, and his big, warm body against yours feels more than soothing.

"Course, kid. Just don’t tell Alva, or they’ll fire me."

You smile, your arms still wrapped around his neck, as he holds you.

"But I don’t wanna get you in trouble, what if–"

"No," Joel interrupts you, "no what ifs. No worryin’. I forbid it."

And you accept it, leave it to Joel, because he tells you to – because you don’t have any room in your head for more worries, and because you trust Joel not to do anything reckless. You trust him, period.

***

You text Alva you’re having dinner alone, that your cramps are still acting up, and you do feel slightly bad for lying, but you would never risk Joel’s job. The idea of having dinner with him at his place should make you nervous after your change in feelings about him, but you’re just looking forward to having a meal with someone who knows you, and lets you be yourself.

Joel asked you to be there at seven, so you spend the rest of the afternoon in your dorm room, wondering if you should change your outfit or if it would seem desperate – in the end, you keep the jeans but change into a blouse instead of a sweater. The part of you that stares at Joel’s forearms during class now wants to look pretty for him, so that he’ll ask you over again. You know you’re being ridiculous, but it doesn’t stop you from putting on your nicest perfume.

You’re ten minutes early, so you sit in your little second hand car and try not to panic. You know Joel is merely trying to be a good…friend? Ex-neighbor, Dad’s best friend turned professor? There’s no real etiquette to cling to in this situation, for either of you, and although you’re positive Joel doesn’t have any ulterior motives with you despite his flirting, you know he could lose his job if someone finds out you went to his house. Even if you just watch slashers together the way you did ten years ago. It makes you anxious to know he’d risk something clearly important to him for just that – he moved to a different state, quit his old job, started over completely, and is now willing to endanger that new life just because you’re stressed. At the same time it seems ridiculous anyone could forbid the two of you to spend time together after having known each other your entire life. The thought is absurd, and still, you need to be careful.

You get out of the car before you start to hyperventilate, and ring Joel’s doorbell – it feels strange for him to live in a new house. He opens the door with a smile, and absurd relief floods your veins when you realize he’s wearing an old Led Zeppelin shirt and a pair of worn jeans. This is your Joel.

"I come bearing gifts," you announce, stepping into the house.

“Christ, where did you get this?”, Joel asks, taking the six pack of beer from you, so you can take off your jacket. “I didn’t know they sold Shiner Bock outside of Texas, I’ve been survivin’ on Bud”.

“Brought it with me,” you explain, “figured it’d help if I got homesick, you know, in multiple ways.”

You grin, and Joel shakes his head good-naturedly.

“Old enough to drink, well I’ll be damned. I remember when you begged your Dad to let you have a coke and he asked me if I thought the caffeine would stunt your growth.”

“Did it?”

“It might’ve,” Joel says with a chuckle, “but he didn’t let you have it.”

“Well, he isn’t here now, so let’s put those in the fridge.”

“No," Joel mutters, “no, he ain’t.”

While Joel puts the beer away, you take a look around his living room – despite your reservations about the new house, it reminds you of his old place. It’s got the same masculine and warm feel to it, dark wood, books all over the place, no bells and whistles. Joel is a practical man, and it’s charmingly etched into every part of his life – except for his new work-look. The room isn’t as cluttered as you remember Joel’s old house back in Texas, but you assume he hasn’t had time to accumulate clutter yet. No old newspapers are lying around, no birthday cards stacking up. You wonder if he’s lonely here, teaching all by himself, hundreds of miles away from the place he last grew roots in.

“Do you miss home?” you ask him, when he comes back from the kitchen with two bottles of beer in his hands. He looks at ease, much more himself than back at university. His jeans are faded, his shirt a little too big on his already broad frame, and his hair is clean and curly the way you like it – no gel twisting it into all sorts of un-Joel-like styles. Warmth floods your chest at the sight of him taking a swig of his beer. His crowfeet are a little more pronounced, and his hair has more grey strands than it did back home, but he’s still got that distinctly warm, no-nonsense feel to him.

“Sometimes,” he answers, offering you the second bottle. Your hand brushes his when you take it from him. “But I’m pretty busy here, you know, got a whole lotta lectures to plan, papers to grade and that sort of stuff.”

You nod, and sip at your beer.

“Have you…you know, met people? Made friends here?”

Joel plops down on the couch, and smiles up at you.

“You worried about my social life?”

You shrug, and smile almost timidly.

“You know me, kid, I like bein’ by myself.”

That’s true, for as long as you’ve known Joel, he’s been alone. You know he has nieces and nephews who adore him, and your Dad mentioned a woman once, but it must have been at least twenty years since they were together. You wonder why Joel doesn’t seem to want that sort of a domestic life, surely many women would be happy to let him put a ring on them.

You walk over to the window, and watch a blackbird tug at a writhing worm.

“Have you met someone at uni you wanna be by yourself with?” you ask with a small grin, turning back to find Joel already watching you. “I heard Professor Carter’s still single.”

“She’s very intelligent,” Joel says earnestly. You give him credit for not laughing about his colleague, and suddenly you feel bad for calling her frumpy with Alva. “But I think I’ll leave her to her simulations. Why am I bein’ interrogated?”

“Sorry,” you mumble, and glance out of the window again, “just making conversation.”

“Your turn, then,” Joel answers, and takes another swig of beer. “Any frat boys catch your eye? Or frat girls?”

You glance at him, a smile on your lips, and raise your eyebrows.

“Hey, I don’t discriminate. I thought, maybe Alva…”

“No,” you answer, feeling fond of him for considering the possibility. “Alva’s a friend. The guys are…well, they’re frat boys.”

 Your voice carries enough disgust for Joel to laugh.

“Right,” he says, and his eyes are warm when they meet yours again. “Just us two loners, then."

“Cheers,” you say with a smile.

“Cheers.”

***

Joel’s cooking is a mystery to you – he loves to eat, and when he does cook, it’s always delicious, but he only ever makes one of five dishes. Again, that practicality shining through. Why try something new if you’ve perfected your routine? He made pasta for you, wasn’t sure if you’re still vegetarian and makin’ your Dad’s hair fall out, and you smile into the neck of your beer bottle, when you watch him drizzle dressing onto a carefully arranged side-salad. Throughout dinner, you tell him how much you love it at least five times, because you can tell he put effort into the meal. You know it’s not technically a date, but having a dinner he made just for you, in his home – it feels like one.

You steer the conversation away from heavy topics like your parents. Although Joel offered you this evening to make you feel better, you want to spend it with him rather than in your head, so you ask him about books and music, about his lectures, about Tommy and the kids. You like watching how his face lights up whenever he talks about something he particularly loves. Joel is a quiet man, but you found out years ago it isn’t shyness, but a disinterest in most mundane topics – he doesn’t like gossip or superficial small talk. When he tells you Tommy made him godfather of all of his children, the pride is evident in his voice, and you don’t have to fake your enthusiasm, although it amuses you, too – Tommy loving his big brother enough not to consider anyone else.

"She calls me uncle Joe," he tells you with a chuckle, "Can’t pronounce her Ls yet, but I’ve considered legally changing my name."

When you’re done eating, you help him clear the table, but when you reach for the sponge to do the dishes, Joel shakes his head.

"Let me do that later, kid. You wanna watch a movie?"

So the two of you plop down on the couch with a bag of M&Ms and another round of beer, and Joel hands you the remote.

"Go wild," he says, chuckling when you excitedly turn on he TV to open Netflix.

"Wow, a streaming service? I thought you’d just hoard DVDs for the rest of your life."

Joel huffs, and instead of answering, he leans forward, and reaches for something under his couch table. When he turns his head, he’s got glasses on his face, thick-rimmed and black, and so startlingly sexy, you almost drop the remote.

"You…you’ve got glasses?"

"Yeah," he answers, his eyes meeting yours, and you swallow. "When your eyesight deteriorates, that’s when you know you’re gettin’ old."

You hum but don’t answer, just hold his gaze for a second and look back to the screen. You try to ignore the familiar pang in your stomach at the sight of Joel in his new glasses, and skip through movie after movie, mumbling seen it, seen it, that one sucks, seen it, until Joel reaches over and snatches the remote from you.

"Hey–"

"I can’t read anything if you skip through them that quickly."

"You’re not supposed to read, you’re supposed to go with the vibe of the cover."

He glances at you with furrowed brows.

"Okay, sorry, didn’t know you’re a filmbro," you grumble, but it’s almost entirely fake – you couldn’t be annoyed with him, not when he pushes his glasses up his nose, and carefully considers which button to press on the remote.

"I don’t know what that means," he answers, and starts reading the description of a romantic comedy about Christmas.

"I’m not watching that."

"You don’t even know what it’s about."

"It’s September, Joel."

He huffs again, but finally reaches the horror movies. Surprisingly, it doesn’t take the two of you long to pick one, and the thought of two hours of brainless, scary entertainment on a couch with Joel makes you practically melt into his couch.

You can feel Joel’s eyes on you during the opening credits, so you glance over and he smiles.

"Comfy?" he asks, his voice hoarse from relaxation.

"Yeah," you answer, and smile when hands you a blanket. He’s not exactly close to you, but it still feels a little intimate when you spread the blanket out and offer him the other end. He moves over a little, so that the blanket covers his legs, and when you concentrate you can feel his body heat next to you, so you try hard not to – and instead get lost in the movie.

It’s not particularly good, but the story does get under your skin a little, and when there’s an unexpected shriek, you violently jump and instinctively move closer to Joel. He chuckles, but doesn’t give any reaction to your arm suddenly pressing against his. He doesn’t move away, either, so you don’t, fear suddenly not being the only thing bubbling up in your stomach.

"Jesus," you mumble, the creeping music making you anticipate another jumpscare. You’re right, it does come, but prepared though you are, you still wince, and turn away from the screen slightly. Out of sight, out of mind. Joel turns around, too, and when he sees your widened eyes, he grins.

"How’s that Christmas movie lookin’ now?"

"I’m not scared," you say, and there is some truth to it, "I’m just not good with jumpscares."

When the next one comes, you can’t help it, you clutch his arm next to you, your nails digging into his firm muscle, and Joel glances at you again.

"Sorry," you say quickly, letting go of his forearm now marked with five tiny crescent shapes. "Jesus, Joel, sorry."

"It’s fine," he says, and the amusement is evident in his voice, "you sure you’re into this? There might be some cartoons–"

He stops talking when you glare at him, but his mouth is twitching under his beard. You’re determined to watch the entire movie, and you try not to let any reaction show, wanting to prove Joel wrong.

There is one particularly scary scene – it’s not necessarily violent, but the music and shaky camera movements make your pulse race, and you turn your head slightly, so as to look at something else. Joel glances at you again, but he doesn’t laugh this time, just puts a heavy hand on your shoulder. It’s grounding, the warmth of it, how his thumb digs into your muscle and his fingers spread out over your back and neck.

"You don’t gotta force yourself to watch this, kid," Joel says gently, all teasing humor gone.

"No," you say stubbornly, but move even closer to him. His touch is a welcome distraction from the movie, and although you know it’s stupid and reckless, you lean into him, and Joel puts his arm around you. It’s closer than you’ve been to him except for hugging, and your heartbeat starts to quicken for all the wrong, non-horror reasons. When you flinch, Joel tugs you against his side, and it feels natural to hide your face in his shoulder.

He was never touchy with you, or anyone for that matter, so something must have changed. You wonder if he’s trying to comfort you, or if you might not be the only one who can feel that strange pull between the two of you.

When the movie ends, Joel regrettably removes his arm from around your shoulders to switch off the TV, and although you’re slightly disappointed, you scold yourself for expecting something else.

"Not bad," Joel says with a small smile, and pushes his glasses up his nose. "Very brave."

You scoff, but feel the corners of your mouth twitching, too.

"I used to be less of a wimp, but I guess you soften with age."

"You’re twenty-three," Joel argues, "that’s young."

Yeah, too young. Too young to lean over and kiss him, or climb into his lap, or expect anything other than paternal care when he’s got his arm around you. You look at your lap, all of a sudden feeling stupid and silly for having dreamed up an absurd fantasy about the man in front of you.

"Hey," Joel says gently, "what’s wrong?"

"Nothing," you say quickly, "nothing, I had a really great evening. Thanks, Joel."

You can tell you’ve confused him, but he nods, doesn’t question your sudden change of mood, and stands when you get up from the couch.

"Anytime, kid. You call me if you’re havin’ a bad time, alright? My door’s always open."

He’s so kind, so recklessly, stupidly, lovingly kind, and all of it is directed at you. You curse yourself for it, but again you feel that familiar burn in your eyes. Joel reaches out and easily pulls you towards his big body, hugging you the way he did in his office just this afternoon. He doesn’t ask you what brought on your tears, just lets you cry into his Led Zeppelin shirt that smells so much like home, like a childhood you won’t get back to. You remember whiffs of that smell when you were watching movies on his couch while he was at work, too pissed off at your parents to spend the summer at home. This scent was there when you attended a neighborhood barbecue after fighting with your father and Joel grilled some vegan sausages for you without comment or question. He’s always looked out for you like this, quietly, without demanding an explanation, just a solid, comforting presence in your life.

Your tears stop after a couple of minutes, and you take a step away from Joel, wiping your face. He looks so worried again, brows all furrowed and arms hanging limply at his side. Didn’t he flirt with you, though? Didn’t he prepare dinner for you the way a date would, ask you about your dating life, ask you to coffee? You don’t think you would be able to handle another evening like this one not knowing what Joel really thinks, so in a moment of hazy recklessness, you lean up.

His eyes meet yours, all warm and strangely unguarded, but before your lips brush his, a hand on your shoulder stops you. Without saying something, you move away from him, and nod to yourself, his reaction all the information you needed.

"Sorry," you say very quietly, not managing much else now that you’ve humiliated yourself in front of the only person you really know in a six hundred mile radius. Joel runs a hand through his soft hair, and inhales deeply.

"No," he says, his voice a little strained, "no, don’t be. I just…Jesus, kid."

He rubs his palm over his beard in such a familiar way, your chest aches a little. It’s ridiculous how much you want to touch his face, to feel him again, skin on skin. So you don’t turn and run the way your embarrassed heart is telling you to, just watch him collect his thoughts, standing in front of him like a wet and beaten dog.

"Look," he begins, "I won’t say I’m not flattered, but that’s…it’s a bad fuckin’ idea. It’s…it’s chaos, and on top of that most people would argue it’s wrong."

You swallow. You know all of this, have turned it over in your head ever since you stared at Joel’s rolled up sleeves for two hours on that first Monday, but hearing him say it makes your stomach churn.

"Yeah," you mutter, and trace Joel’s shadow with the very tip of your foot, "yeah, of course. Sorry I put you in that position, wasn’t right."

Your face still feels puffy, and you know you’re probably all red and pathetic looking, begging Joel for scraps of his attention, but all of a sudden, he lifts his hand up to your face, and cups it in his broad palm. His thumb strokes your cheek, and when you meet his eye, the expression on his face is tender.

"It’s alright," he tells you softly, "I can see you worryin’ at the speed of light in that pretty head of yours."

Something in your chest flutters at his words, at the rough and warm cadence of his voice. He reads you so easily, one turn of your head and he knows you’re lost to your thoughts.

"I shouldn’t have let myself toy with this idea," he continues, and your stomach flips. "I should’ve realized you’d pick up on it. It’s on me, alright? It’s on me not to start anythin’."

You can hear the implication – I’m the adult here. It’s not what you want to hear, but just the mention of Joel toying with this idea, as he put it, is enough to lift your spirits. So you weren’t crazy.

"I’m an adult," you say weakly, never having felt more like a child. Joel nods.

"You are, but I’m still in a position of power here. Be wrong, to abuse that."

His thumb is still moving over your cheek slowly, making it hard to think straight.

"So dinner and a movie doesn’t abuse it?"

You don’t want to argue, you don’t know why you keep disagreeing with him, and the way his face falls, you wish you hadn’t said it.

"No, it…it does, you’re right. Jesus, of course it does. I don’t blame ya for bein’ ang-"

"I’m not angry," you say softly, and tentatively turn your head in Joel’s hand. You press a kiss to his palm, his warm skin pressed right against your mouth. "I’m not your student, Joel. I mean, of course I am, but I know you. It’s different."

Joel’s eyes are glued to your face, and he looks so conflicted you wish he’d just throw you out of his house, if only to solve his dilemma.

"It’s still wrong," Joel mutters, his eyes glued to your lips since they brushed his skin "even if you take away the fact that I’m your fuckin’ professor. Your Dad…"

"My Dad is half a continent away and finds a way to be unhappy with whatever choices I make, so I might as well make the ones I want to."

The very first day, before you even met Joel, you decided to do what makes you happy while in university, and although this certainly wasn’t what you had in mind, you know it’s what you want. The only thing you want, in fact.

Joel sighs, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Joel, I’m not trying to…look, if I’m wrong about this, just tell me, but I feel…I just wanna be close to you all of the fucking time," you say quietly, "and it’s okay if you don’t, really. I just…I want you to know it’s not nothing to me."

Saying I don’t just want to hook up with you would feel too straight forward or crass, but you think Joel gets the gist of what you’re trying to say, and he closes his eyes briefly. You study his face behind his glasses, the wrinkles and freckles from years in the sun. You do feel anxious about his answer, but whatever it is, you’re glad you told him. It’s out in the world now, the way you feel when he holds you, and he can do with it what he pleases – you’ve handed him the reigns.

"I…I know what you mean. Me too," he says very quietly after a beat, his eyes open and looking directly into yours again.

A triumphant pang of affection pulses through you, and you put your hand over Joel’s, which is still resting on your cheek. He looks conflicted, but his other hand holds your waist now, and tugs your smaller body closer to his again. He’s solid as a brick wall in front of you, and you figure you’re allowed to touch, so you rest your hand on his shoulder.

"What am I gonna do with you?" Joel mutters, and strokes your lower lip with his thumb. If you had more guts, you’d let it slip into your mouth, but you’re still afraid he’ll pull back if you make a wrong move, so you just let him caress your mouth tenderly.

"Whatever you’d like," you answer just as quietly, and you know it sounds sexual, but you mean it in every way – if Joel wants to be nothing but your professor, you’d take it, and if he wants to keep you here in his house indefinitely, you’d let him. Joel keeps looking at you, taking you in as if he’s considering whether the risks outweigh whatever magnetic or gravitational pull the two of you have between you.

"Stay," he say after a while, and although his face looks slightly regretful, his voice is determined, "just…sleep here tonight. I like havin’ you here."

You want him to kiss you, to pull you onto his lap on the couch, to take you upstairs right now, but Joel seems to be restraining himself, so you just nod.

"Me too," you whisper, echoing his words back to him, and for just a second, his thumb digs into your lip a little harder, but then he pulls away.

"Testin’ my goddamn restraint," he mutters, and takes a step away from you. "I’ll get you something to sleep in."

***

Joel gets you one of his band tees you love so dearly, and just the idea of being enveloped by something that smells like him all night makes it a little easier when Joel tells you he’ll take the couch instead of inviting you to sleep with him in his bed.

"No," you say softly, "it’s fine, you just sleep in your bed, Joel. I’ll take the couch."

He looks critical, so you offer him a soft smile.

"I don’t know if your back could take it," you tease, and he seems torn up between laughing and frowning. In the end, he just shakes his head, mutters something that sounds a lot like bad fuckin’ idea, and gets you a blanket and pillow.

He brings you a clean toothbrush and towel, let’s you use his bathroom (you look at the shower the entire time you’re brushing your teeth, trying hard not to think about what Joel looks like using it in the mornings), and when you’re done changing, you unlock the door again.

He’s there, sitting on the edge of his bed, his eyes trailing over your form in his much too big shirt. It’s long as a dress on you, coming down to your naked thighs. Joel visibly swallows and gets up from the bed.

"You got everythin’ you need?"

"Yes. Thank you, Joel."

There’s a beat of silence and you almost think Joel’s about to cross the room, but he just runs his palm over his beard the way he always does, and nods.

"Alright. Just shout if there’s…well, you know. I’ll be here."

"I will."

"Alright. Okay…goodnight, kid."

"Night," you almost whisper, voice soft, and right before you reach the door, Joel clears his throat.

"I…you were right about dinner and the movie. I wasn’t just tryin’ to be friendly," he says quietly, and your stomach swirls. Before you can walk over to Joel and do something about it, he sighs.

"Sleep tight, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

***

You wake to the sound of something dripping, and when your eyes flutter open, you can see Joel’s back from the kitchen. He’s wearing his work outfit again, a white button down and dark pants, sleeves rolled up. It smells like coffee, and with a smile you realize he must be brewing his beloved coffee – no machine, just a filter. He looks broad, even from your spot on the couch, and you enjoy peeking in on him. You study his movements, the way he reaches for a cup, how his fingers absentmindedly drum on the kitchen counter while he waits.

When he turns around, his eyes find yours, and he smiles.

"Mornin’. Did I wake ya?"

"’S fine," you yawn, pulling the blanket up to your chin, not yet ready to get up. "I have classes at ten anyway."

"’S eight," Joel tells you, "Coffee?"

"Yes please," you answer, and stretch your limbs under the blanket.

Joel brings you a cup, complete with a little bit of milk and sugar, and you move your feet so he can sit down on the couch.

"Sleep well?"

You sip your coffee, let it burn your tongue and close your eyes at the taste. When you open them, Joel’s gaze lingers on your face.

"Yeah," you answer, "thank you for…you know."

He nods, takes a sip of his coffee, and looks at his lap. He looks like he wants to say something, but he’s very quiet, and you feel anxiety bubbling up in your stomach.

"Joel, do you want me to leave? It’s fine if you do," you ask him softly, not wanting to make things awkward for him. It would be rational of him to ask you to leave, the smart and ethical thing to do.

"No," he answers quietly, still not looking at you, "I want you to stay."

Stay? On a Tuesday morning, after you almost kissed him and he told you he couldn’t do that, after you spent the night on his couch? When you have classes in two hours, haven’t showered yet, are half naked and wearing his clothes, on his couch under his blanket? When you’ve got friends wondering where you are and probably ten unanswered messages from Alva?

"Alright," you say, agreeing as easy as breathing.

Finally, he looks up, and his expression is so conflicted you reach out for him. Your hand finds his and you squeeze it. He keeps looking at you, his hand limp in your grasp, as if any movement of his muscles would incriminate him.

"You shouldn’t," he tells you earnestly. "Stay, I mean. You shouldn’t stay."

"I know."

You don’t let go of his hand. He doesn’t move his away.

"It’s a really, really bad idea," he adds, and you’re not sure who he is trying to talk out of whatever this is. "It’s risky. Could blow up both our lives."

"Yeah," you say, and watch him sip his coffee, "okay."

Then, a tentative flex of his fingers against yours, and finally, he’s squeezing your hand just as tightly, and before you can process what that means, Joel is leaning over you, dangerously close. Your breathing quickens, you register how soft his hair looks, how strong his hand is. He leans in further and you sit up a little, still cocooned in his blanket. His face is close to yours, his eyes fiery with something you can’t pinpoint, and you sigh, when he closes the gap between you.

He tastes of coffee and toothpaste, and you wish you’d gotten the chance to shower, but the thought disappears almost immediately when you hear Joel groan. His kisses you languidly, deeply, and your fingers come up to his beautiful arm, barely wrapping around half of his biceps. He cradles the side of your face, pulls you closer, makes your stomach clench with need. It feels inevitable, the way he touches you, like you only exist in a physical form to be touched by him.

His free hand peels the blanket off your body, lets it slide to the floor without ever stopping his the kiss, and you moan softly, when his hand touches your waist. The sound makes him break away, stare down at you, pupils blown wide.

"Fuck, you look good in my clothes," he mutters, nudging your jaw with his nose, and pressing a kiss there. "You should really, really go home."

Your head falls back slightly to give him better access to your neck, and he brushes his lips over your pulse point. Your heart skips a beat.

"I – I know," you breathe, fingers digging into his arm. His beard scratches your skin deliciously, and it takes everything in you not to whimper or beg. Joel’s hand slips under your shirt – his shirt – and instead of finding your waist again, he digs his thumb into your hip, stroking the fabric of your cotton panties. The fire in your stomach burns brighter, and you almost buck up into him. Joel Miller, the Joel Miller who until recently had a key to your childhood home, who lent it to you whenever you forgot yours inside – he’s sucking bruises into your skin, and toying with your panties. It’s dizzying, his familiar voice when he hums in satisfaction, even rougher than usually.

His fingers trace the waistband of your panties towards the front, until they find a small, silky bow, and Joel groans. He doesn’t take your underwear off, doesn’t even touch you where you need him the most, just keeps playing with the little bow, until your hips twitch without your permission. A little lower, and he would be able to feel how wet you are, how wet you have been all night. You didn’t do anything about it, not while you were a guest in his house. It would have felt wrong. You can’t imagine anything feeling more right than Joel’s mouth and hands on you, though.

"Jesus," Joel curses, "I should stop bef–"

"No," you whine, all dignity turned to hot air by Joel’s fingers, "please, Joel, please don’t stop."

He curses again, and moves his big body so that he’s not just hovering above you, but actually on top of you, your thighs falling open for him easily. At the movement, his shirt hikes up your thighs, and you know you’re basically on display for him, your soaked underwear leaving little to the imagination. He’s still fully clothed, his perfect button down all wrinkled now.

"Look at you," Joel breathes, lightheaded with desire, "this all for me?"

So he saw, when you moved to accommodate his broad form, saw how soaked you are, knows you ruined your panties just because he kissed you.

"Yes," you breathe, "yes, please–"

Before you can beg further, his finger presses down on your clit, and he watches your face contort in pleasure, as it shoots up your spine. You whimper, staring into his eyes, and he stares right back, as you start to grind your hips against his palm.

Your head feels blissfully empty, all worries about this relationship, uni, your parents, gone from you with a simple, practiced movement of his hand. The whimpers keep falling from your lips, and Joel curses.

"So beautiful," he mutters, "tell me what you need, angel."

It’s not a question, it’s an order.

"I – fuck, I need you i–inside," you groan, and Joel’s lips find yours again.

"Yeah? Need me to fuck you good, even though they’ll throw us both out?"

It shouldn’t turn you on. You’re jeopardizing both your own and Joel’s career, and he’s turning it into dirty talk. Still, your pussy doesn’t lie, and the way it throbs for him, aching to get him inside, makes all doubts disappear from your mind.

"Yes," you answer, unable to say much more as Joel keeps drawing tight circles into your clit.

Your hands drift from his arms towards his front, and Joel curses, when you paw at his belt buckle. It takes you a second, but then it’s open, the sound of the metal exciting you – it sounds like a promise.

Joel finally tugs your panties down, and for a second you’re self–conscious about not being clean shaven, but the second he sees you bare and glistening for him, his fingers dip into your folds, gathering your wetness with no hesitation.

"Fuck me," he groans, bringing his hand up to his face and tasting you, holding eye–contact the entire time, "prettiest pussy I’ve seen in my life."

You twitch under him, dragging your gaze away from his eyes and to his fingers. A moan escapes you, your hands have gone slack on his waistband, and Joel smiles down at you. Then, he does the same motion again, drags the tips of his thick fingers through your sticky arousal, but instead of sucking them clean himself, he holds them up to your mouth. His eyes burn, when you wrap your lips around them without a moments hesitation, and he feeds you your own slick.

"Taste so sweet, huh?"

You don’t answer, just swirl your tongue around his fingers, and suck on them. Joel watches your mouth intently, lets you take your time.

"Good girl," he praises you, and you clench around nothing, "so fuckin’ needy for me."

He drags his fingers from your mouth, and finally pushes into you, the stretch much tighter than with two of your own. Your head falls backwards, and Joel curls his fingers.

"No, baby, look down here," he orders, and immediately you lift your head again, and watch him pump two thick digits in and out of you. It’s dizzying to think it’s the same hand that waved to you from over his fence for years and years. You feel a coil building in your stomach, and you moan.

"Fuck, Joel," you moan, his name leaving a delicious aftertaste in your mouth. His beautiful forearm flexes with every movement, your slick is dripping down his fingers, and those damn sleeves are still perfectly rolled up.

With a few more curls of his fingers, you gush around him, barely having time to warn him, and he praises you, calls you his good girl, drags his fingers against that spongey spot inside of you until you see stars.

When he slips his fingers out of you and holds them up to your face again, you clean them up with your mouth as Joel watches with bright eyes. To think that he’s the same man who taught you Dirac not twenty-four hours ago – already, you want him inside again. When you’re done, he fumbles with his own clothes, and you watch him this time instead of helping.

"You look so good like this," you mumble, eyes raking over his broad form, "Professor."

His eyes snap up to yours, and you grin.

"Fuckin’ Christ, kid," he mutters, popping open the buttons on his shirt, "you can’t say shit like that."

"You don’t like it? You know, I watched you during your lectures and dreamed about…well, about this."

His expression is unreadable, but if you’re not mistaken, his hands move even faster now, and then he shrugs out of his shirt. You almost moan at the sight of his naked torso, so broad and solid.

"You need to pay attention in class," Joel answers, as he opens his pants. Your breathing grows a little shallow when he reveals his boxers underneath, his bulge huge.

"Can’t," you mumble, "not with you looking like this."

He chuckles at that, at the honesty and need in your answer.

"Don’t worry," he says softly, "I’ll fuck it outta you. Won’t be needing’ me in class, not if I’m still leakin’ out of you."

Your lips part, your pussy clenches – a smile tugs on the corners of Joel’s mouth at your reaction. He drags down his boxer shorts, and your eyes snap towards his cock, so thick and dripping in precum. You whimper, you can’t help it, and Joel’s smile widens.

"We’ll make it fit, baby," he says, reading your mind, and then bends down and kisses you again. You try to tug your shirt upwards, but Joel’s hands find your wrists and he holds them tight.

"No, want to fuck you in it," he breathes against your lips, and you press your hips upwards until he groans. He pumps his fist over his cock a couple of times, and aligns it with your entrance.

"Deep breath, baby," he mutters, and you obey, staring up at him as he starts pressing into you. It’s tight, much tighter than his two fingers, and your eyes glass over with pain, but Joel goes slow. His hand strokes your tummy, helps you relax, while he pushes on consistently. You feel like he’s punching the air from your lungs, eyes wide with the stretch of him, as he nips at your jaw and neck to distract you.

"Know it’s a lot, but you can take it, angel."

"Y-yes," you moan, and screw your eyes shut, "please don’t stop, Joel."

 Joel’s breathing is ragged with restraint, and suddenly his hips snap forwards – and he’s fully buried inside of your tight body, nestled right against your cervix.

"Back to Joel, are we?" he teases, and gives you a couple of seconds to get used to him. You whimper and claw at his arm.

"I – ah – I’ll call you Professor Miller ’f you want," you slur, as he starts dragging his cock out of you again. You tremble under him, the feeling almost more intense than when he pushed inside of you.

"Yeah? That get you off? Or – fuck–  is it the fact that I’m friends with your parents?"

It really, really should be a turn off, to be talking about your parents right now, but the way Joel says it, the way he points out just how debauched it is what you’re doing – you can’t help but moan. You blush, too, can feel the heat in your face, but you’re tired of being ashamed of wanting him the way you do.

"Both," you answer, and this time Joel groans, his hips snapping into you at a rougher pace. The head of his cock hits your spot every time, and you let out little sounds of pleasure with every drag of his cock, unable to form a coherent sentence. Joel’s hand finds your clit again, rubbing circles as his other one pressing down on your stomach.

"Feel that?" he asks you, and you do, you feel him all up in your guts, "you take it so well baby, take all ’f me."

"Yes," you answer, eyes glassy with pleasure, "want all of you, Joel."

He bites your shoulder, keeps rutting into you, and soon you feel another orgasm building.

"Close – ah – so close," you whimper, and Joel speeds up his thrusts just slightly. You clench around him, right on the edge.

"Come for me, angel, give it to me."

You do, your hips bucking, back arching.

"Ah – fuck, Joel, Prof–"

"Say it," Joel orders, fucking you through the waves of pleasure.

"Professor."

He comes, too, twitching deep inside of you and spilling rope after rope of come. It feels right, like you’re his. His groan is rough, his thrusts sloppy, and you feel your pussy spasm around him in a third, weaker orgasm, or maybe it’s just aftershocks from your second. You’re limp underneath him, letting him use your body how he needs to.

"Fuck," he curses, "did so good for me."

He slips out of you, and you can feel his spend drip out of you. You’re weak, soft like jelly, sweaty and entirely satisfied.

"Jesus," you breathe, when he falls down next to you, his couch mercifully being big enough.

"Yeah," he answers, "Jesus."

***

Turns out, Joel Miller is a dirty talking bastard during sex, and a big softie afterwards. He makes you tea, strokes your hair while you sip it, then carries you up to his shower and gently washes your body his his sponge. Throughout, he’s quiet, and you wonder if it was too much, the mention of him being your professor, of your parents, but you’re too afraid to ask. He brushes your forehead with his lips when he dries you off, and pulls another of his shirts over you head. Your panties are entirely ruined, it’s all you’re wearing.

When you’re clean again, and relaxed, Joel pulls you onto his bed, wrapping you up in his arms.

"Did you…was that too much?" he asks you softly fingertips tracing over your thigh lazily.

"It was just right," you answer quietly, and he hums.

"You didn’t feel like you…I mean when you called me Professor, you wanted to do that, right?"

You look up at him, and press a soft kiss against his jaw.

"Of course, Joel. Wanted everything we did, I promise."

He nods, but you can tell there’s still something bothering him.

"You know that’s not what you are to me, though, right?" Your voice is soft. "You’re just Joel."

He brushes the top of your head with his lips.

"I mean it," you press on when he doesn’t answer, "it’s like a costume, Joel. I know it’s your job, but it’s…I don’t think of you as like, an authority figure or something. I just thought you looked hot in that slutty shirt."

"Slutty–?" he sputters and you laugh.

"Sure, you know, with your sleeves rolled up, and that first button popped open."

"’S not slutty."

"You showed your forearms. Half the lecture hall felt like a victorian man seeing ankles for the first time."

Joel makes an exasperated sound, half amused and half offended.

"I mean it," you say again after beat, humor gone from your tone, "and it’s not just sex to me. You know that."

"Yeah," Joel answers slowly. "’S more to me, too."

It’s a hell of an admission.

"What are we gonna do?", you ask quietly, and Joel sighs.

"You’re gonna go to class," he says, voice dark, "and I’ll try very, very hard not to call your father and tell him I’m fallin’ for his daughter."

You bury your face in his chest. With anyone else, it would be too much, too fast, too intense. But this is Joel. It’s not fast if you’ve known him your whole life, is it? You kiss his chest, and he seems to understand.

"We’ll figure it out," Joel says quietly, pressing a kiss to your hair.

For a second you do want your parents to know, want them to see that someone does treat you like an adult, want to look them in the eye and say I’m with Joel now and there’s nothing you can do about it. I have my own life now and it includes this kind man. It’s childish, you know it is. You lean up, catch Joel’s mouth in a kiss.

"Yeah," you answer, “We’ll figure it out, Professor.”

[alisonfelixwrites]

sunlit. - muse one shot [harry styles au]

//

part two.

summary: in which Eden just graduated and spends her summer holiday with her father and stepmother in their italian house, and Harry is the mysterious, older neighbour her father doesn't want her to talk to.

A/N: this has been on my wattpad for a while but i recently rr it and re-fell in love with it, so i wanted her to have a tumblr-moment too :))

word count: 22,915

CW's: age gap, SMUT! oral (f & m receiving), rimming (f & m receiving) spitting, choking, degrading, unprotected sex, public sex, voyeurism, anal play (if you squint), spanking (if you squint harder)

_________________________________________________________

Eden had to admit that standing in front of the house she’d spent the next few months at, she wasn’t seeing what she had expected.

Her shoulder-length chocolate hair was wispy and in her face, her hand hastily moving up to tuck it away behind her ear, “Oh.” She mumbled.

“You like it, hon?” Her father closed the back of the car, “It’s cute, huh?” 

Eden nibbled her lip, eventually pushing her sunglasses up in her hair to keep it away a little bit in the warm wind. “Yeah.” She breathed, settling on that answer. Her dad chuckled and walked up next to her, “I know, I know. It needs a little bit of love, but the inside is so charming. We fell in love with it and you will too, promise.” He placed a kiss to her cheek before hauling her suitcases in, “We’re so happy you’re here! Colleen is very excited to spend some time with you.”

Eden exhaled and forced a smile, “I just… I thought you said we were close to the city?” She walked up behind her father towards the small, typical Italian house. Sure it had a lot of character, but for one – it looked tiny and second of all, Eden had paid attention during the car ride to notice they hadn’t passed by anything that looked like a bar or a store in at least forty minutes.

“Yeah, you just take the bike down the hill and then the train. There’s a little grocery shop down the hill with like a coffee house too, but the nearest city is about an hour by train.” He casually explained.

“An hour?!” Eden shrieked, being ignored by her dad who simply kept walking. Eden tilted her head back with a groan, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You’ll love it here!” He shouted in an attempt to convince her. Eden rolled her eyes and took her bag, walking into the house behind him. Her nose scrunched up at the welcome-mat that said live, love, laugh! in front of the front door.

The coolness of the house welcomed Eden though as she stepped inside with her slippers on. She closed the heavy door behind her. The house was tiled in a reddish-brown colour, which was so typical for a house like this. 

Eden exhaled another breath as she carefully stepped in, following the shadow of her father. The house smelled like citrus, Eden noticed. It was fresh and clean and she clutched her bag around her shoulder. She turned the corner to be met with a small kitchen, Colleen by the counter with an apron on.

“Eden!” She gasped, opening her arms wide to hug the daughter of her partner. Eden forced a smile, “Colleen, hi.” She gently hugged her back as Colleen squeezed her painfully. Her bouncy blonde curls smothered Eden and her perfume was heavy in her nose.

Colleen’s arms felt tight around Eden and she let go a few seconds after Eden was already uncomfortable. She took a quick step back, having near forgotten how… smothering her stepmother was. Colleen was loud, bubbly and very present in any company. Eden was much more soft-spoken than her and preferred to sit in silence or by herself.

No matter how badly she tried to like Colleen – who essentially did nothing wrong – Eden almost felt like she was too kind. And no one could be that kind. Eden had to do nothing more but let out a little yelp as she stubbed her toe and Colleen was ready to drive her to the hospital.

And Eden felt somehow frustrated by it. And it frustrated her even more that she had no good reason to dislike Colleen who did her best to be liked by Eden, the only daughter of the man she loved and moved to Italy with.

“Welcome to our crib!” Her father grinned as he put her bags down and spread his arms, “Darling, we are so happy to have you here! You’re gonna have the summer of her life.”

Eden forced another smile.

When her father decided to move to Italy a few months ago, Eden had felt multiple emotions at one. She felt sad to be far away from him and not see him as much anymore. At the same time, she saw an opportunity. An opportunity for warm, Italian summers. An opportunity for a tan, lots of red wine, limoncello and Aperol Spritz by a pool as she strolled around little towns and met strangers in hot bars.

What she didn’t expect was a remote, little house with no sign of human life in sight.

Eden let her eyes glide around the house. It was full of personality, like her father had promised. She saw little touches of him and Colleen around the interior, but mostly they had adapted a very typical Italian style and left most of their personal belongings back in England. 

“Haven’t even been able to properly congratulate you on graduating.” Her father stood behind Eden, placing his hands on her shoulders. Eden felt a warmth spreading through her chest, welling up with pride as she breathed out a chuckle, turning around, “Thanks, dad.”

“A famous photographer in the family.” He joked and Eden blushed a little, a smile playing on her lips. Colleen smiled as she took the coffee pot in hand, “Any thoughts on what you’re going to do now?”

It was the inevitable question, and one that made Eden’s stomach clench. Her smile dropped immediately and her father shot her a sympathetic look, squeezing her shoulders again, “Eden will find her way. It’s summer break now after studying for years in a row. Freedom, hm? You deserve it.” He softly defended her. Colleen said nothing and Eden smiled at her father, “Yeah. Just a few weeks of uninterrupted sun.”

“You’ve come to the right address.” Her father smiled. Eden tried to feel excited, but standing in the house she was meant to spend a few months in, her enthusiasm deflated a tad. She rubbed the back of her neck, “I’ll just put my things upstairs?”

“Yeah, you can go explore.” Colleen waved her hand to the narrow stairs, “It’s upstairs to the left.”

“Thanks.” Eden softly smiled. She took one of her bags, leaving the other one downstairs for now. The stone steps didn’t creak like the stairs at the house in England did. The heat of the upstairs of the house greeted Eden as she reached the landing. 

The hallway was narrow as Eden took a left, glancing into the first room. It was quite the small room and was basically filled with boxes and storage, things her father and Colleen had yet to unpack. Eden exhaled a breath and continued, the second room being much more tidy.

It had a small double bed pushed against the wall opposite the window. White sheets covered the mattress and there was an old wooden dresser and a little desk in the corner. It wasn’t too decorated for the rest, but Eden enjoyed the simplicity of it. 

Walking into the room, she realized this was home for the next few months. And all of a sudden, a feeling of homesickness washed over her for no specific reason. She sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the blank walls. Sun came through the cracked window. 

Coming to Italy for a few months after graduating was probably the most spontaneous thing Eden had ever done. But it was all fitting in with how she felt right now. Chaotic. 

All throughout college, Eden had one goal. Graduating. And it was as if she didn’t realize that she worked towards that for the longest time and once she finally reached it, it felt oddly… unsatisfying. 

She had reached that goal, and now there was just a big glob of nothingness, of no perspective, of just… empty. And Eden spiralled. While her friends enjoyed their graduation and their months of holidays and freedom and no more exams or deadlines, Eden bolted.

She broke up with her boyfriend, booked a ticket and left everything and everyone behind. And once again, coming to Italy was her perspective and her goal and now that she was here, it’s like she felt empty again. Eden bit her wobbling lip, overcome by emotions. And she sighed before leaning her elbows on her knees, “What the fuck are you doing.” She whispered to herself. 

The loud bark of a dog pulled Eden out of her thoughts, jumping up slightly from the noise. She narrowed her eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before getting up and walking up to the window.

The view from Eden’s window showed the narrow grass path that wrapped around the entire house, connecting the small front yard to the backyard. A fence separated their yard from the neighbour’s, which is where the dog was barking.

It wasn’t just one dog and Eden’s lips curled up into a smile. She saw a large border collie excitedly wagging its tail and jumping around the garden, playing with a much smaller Maltese dog attempting to keep up with the collie’s pace.

Admittedly, the neighbour had the house on the street that everyone wanted and the one Eden was currently in, was like its ugly sibling. It was about double the size of her father’s and Colleen’s house and the yard was even bigger. And to top it off, the house had a pool.

One glance into the backyard of their own house and Eden winced under her breath, realizing there was no pool here. Her chest sunk a bit as she exhaled, really trying to see a silver lining here.

Deciding Eden had to get out of the mood she was in, she simply put her bags down and opened one up, pulling out a pair of denim shorts to change out of her jeans and be a little less dressed in these hot temperatures. 

She put on a pair of slippers and redid the clip in her hair, hopping down the stairs again. Her father and Colleen were talking in the kitchen and Eden walked past them, offering a brief smile before her hand reached for the doorknob to find the garden, “I’m just going to check out the garden.” She spoke.

Colleen glanced at her father, who simply nodded and let his daughter exit the house.

The hot, humid air of southern Italy hit Eden’s face after leaving the coolness of the house. She did inhale a deep breath though, feeling as if she needed it. The grass underneath her feet was crispy from the heat and crickets could be heard all around. The house had a beautiful view of the hill with a bunch of grape vines. The little town could be seen from here, all the way at the bottom of the hill.

Eden put her hands on her hips and looked around, her face lighting up when she saw the two dogs again out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh, hi.” Eden cooed, walking towards the fence. The border collie excitedly wagged its tail, jumping up a little as Eden approached. She crouched down, smiling at both dogs who panted and continued running circles. The smaller Maltese stayed close and Eden put her hand through the fence to pet its head. 

“Hey!” A voice made her jump up and Eden quickly rose to her feet, seeing a man emerge from the house next door. 

The dogs quickly approached him, circling around his legs. He wore a pair of bright blue shorts and a large white button-up, sunglasses on his nose and no shoes on. 

“Oh.” Eden swallowed, “M-Mi scusi signore.”

The man continued walking up to her, a thick frown embedded in his forehead, “Shit.” Eden muttered to herself, fiddling with her fingers, “Stavo solo osservando i – uh… i tuoi cani.” She tried in her best italian, “Mi dispiace. Non… non avrei…” She stuttered before exhaling, “fuck, I don’t know how to say that in italian.”

“Your Italian is shit.” His voice sounded deep as he stood a little bit away from her, his hands on his hips.

Eden exhaled a sigh of relief, “Oh, you’re British? Thank god.”

He didn’t respond and Eden cleared her throat, “Like I was attempting to say,” she chuckled, “I shouldn’t have just touched your dogs. I’m sorry. They just looked very cute.”

The man took a step closer and flicked his eyes to his border collie, “Did you give them any food?”

“Food?” Eden raised her brows, “No, I didn’t.”

“Good. They’re not allowed food from strangers.”

There was a moment of silence between them and Eden’s eyes dragged up his body. She saw tan legs, scribbly tattoos around his knees and muscles that bulged without him even flexing. 

“I-I just moved here, by the way.” Eden pointed her thumb to the house behind her, “I’m sure you’ve met my father and step mother. I’m Eden.” She extended her hand to shake his. He hesitated for a moment before stepping up to her, “You moved in? You live here?” He checked.

Eden used her free hand to tuck some hair behind her ear, “Yeah, for the summer. I think. I haven’t really decided yet.” She shrugged before nibbling her lip. He swallowed and also extended his hand, shaking hers, “Harry.” He introduced himself.

“Nice to meet you.” Eden smiled. “And sorry again.”

“That’s alright.” His voice sounded a bit softer, all the anger having disappeared from him all of a sudden. Harry even put his sunglasses up in his hair and more of his face came into view. Mossy green eyes met her dark brown ones. The slight wrinkles by his eyes indicated that he was a little older than her. Harry had chestnut hair that was wavy on top of his head. 

Eden’s eyes dropped to the moustache above his top lip. She fought her blush, realising that the man in front of her was plain gorgeous and she just got off a flight and didn’t wear any make-up. 

“So – uh, have you lived here long? Or just vacationing? Since you’re British.” Eden tried to start a conversation. Harry’s attention went back to his dog circling his legs, his palm brushing the head of the border collie, “A while, yeah. And no, not vacationing. I live here full-time.”

“Oh.” Eden nodded at the information, “Your house is really nice.” Her gaze drifted to the house behind Harry before darting to the pool. She offered him a small smile, “Perhaps you could show me around a little bit?”

Harry glanced at her, tilting his head to the side, “Show you around?”

“Yeah.” Eden casually shrugged. She popped her hip out and pushed her chest up a little, “Or I could go for a walk with your dogs if you want me to. It’s not like I have anything to do here.”

Harry just stared at her for a bit and Eden felt her heartbeat increasing at the depth of his gaze. It felt like he could see right through her and her flirting ways. As a last resort, she shifted on her feet a bit, “Or if you’d ever be so kind to let me take a dip in your pool on a hot day, that’d be appreciated.”

“A dip in my pool?” He questioned with raised brows, a hint of amusement to his voice. Eden breathed out a chuckle, biting her lip again before shrugging, “Yes. It’s not like you can take a dip in mine.”

Harry felt himself near choking on a breath, her words having a clear double meaning and it seemed like Eden realised it too, gauging his reaction. Harry swiftly licked his lip as he exhaled, “We’d have to be acquainted for that. I don’t really invite strangers into my house.”

“Well, we are acquainted, aren’t we? You know my name, I know yours. We shook hands.” Eden tried to joke and Harry narrowed his eyes again, trying to analyse Eden. She was… flirting with him. Bold. 

“We’ll see.” He ended up muttering, offering her a small smirk, “You might have to try a little harder than that to be acquainted.”

Eden batted her lashes, “If you’d let me.”

There was silence between them, both staring at the other. Harry was intrigued, for sure. She didn’t have a shy mouth and she was pretty for sure. But he also knew it was a bad idea. Just as he thought that, the back door of Eden’s house opened, her father – Ron – popping his head out, “Darling? Dinner’s ready.” He called for her, giving Harry a stiff, polite nod.

“Yep.” Eden smiled at him before turning back to Harry, “So, I’ll see you around?”

He softly cleared his throat, “Sure.” It was nothing but a mumble, hardly convincing himself. If she was Ron’s daughter, she couldn’t be older than… twenty-five. Chances were she was a bit younger even. And he was well in his thirties. 

With that, Eden turned around and headed back into the house. Harry couldn’t help but stare at her ass before exhaling a breath, shaking his head to himself. A young, hot new neighbour wasn’t in his cards for the summer.

“C’mon, girl.” He scratched Sadie over her head, the border collie still circling his legs before they also headed back inside.

“Sooo…” Eden spoke as she pulled back the chair at the table to have her first dinner in Italy with her father and Colleen, “I met the neighbour.”

“We noticed.” Her father mumbled, “sounds like he said more to you in those few minutes than he’s done to us in months.”

Eden raised her brows, “Really?”

Colleen scooped the spaghetti up on her plate, “Mhm. He’s a bit quiet. Which is alright, you know. Rather a quiet neighbour than a bad one.”

“True. But he’s… I don’t know.” Eden’s father shrugged, “He’s unfriendly almost. Like… moody. Every time he says hi or smiles, it’s forced. And he’s always on his own. It’s just weird.”

“He’s just a bit of a loner.” Colleen defended Harry as she sent Ron a slight scowl. Eden started eating her spaghetti, “What does he do for a living?”

Ron shrugged, “See? It’s things like that, that we don’t know. That’s not normal. We have no idea what he does for a living or if he even works. He’s here all the time.”

“Well, maybe he’s got some underlying health issues like you.” Eden softly spoke up, carefully eyeing her dad. Eden’s father had multiple heart attacks in the past which is why he was unfit to work another day in his life. He got paid by the government instead until he retired. Colleen had inherited the entire fortune of her deceased husband who had no other family and they had no children.

Colleen shot Eden a wink, “Exactly. Don’t judge a book by its cover. That man just likes being by himself and he’s not the most sociable person. That’s no crime.”

“Still, I think he’s bad news.” He kept his ground, “So I’d really prefer you not hanging out with him or anything.”

Eden rolled her eyes, “Dad, seriously. I know I’m living in your house right now but I’m twenty-four. You can’t just tell me who I can or can’t talk to.” 

Ron just mumbled something under his breath and ate his food as Eden chewed slowly, her thoughts with Harry. Tanned skin, tattoos visible through the white linen of his large shirt, deep green eyes. She kept seeing him and her legs near jittered to go back to the fence and continue talking to him.

He was gorgeous, so, so attractive. And Eden had an instant crush. 

Later that night, the fatigue of the flight and travel caught up to her and she tiredly moved up the stairs. Her father had brought her bags up a bit earlier but Eden near fell asleep in front of the television before hauling herself upstairs. 

The ventilator in her room was a gift from the heavens as she sat down on the mattress and exhaled a heavy sigh. She stifled a yawn and undid the clip in her hair, running her hand through it. Once Eden got up to close the blinds, she paused in front of the window.

Because there, separated by two little lawns and a fence, she could see Harry through the window in his house. Eden tilted her head to the side, wondering if it was his bedroom. And what it looked like. And if he spent the majority of the time there by himself.

As if on cue – or alerted by the light on in Eden’s room – Harry’s head shot up. He wore the same clothes as earlier and squinted for a bit, making Eden chuckle. She smiled softly and lifted her hand in a wave, noticing Harry breathing out a chuckle before he mimicked the move and waved back.

Maybe summer here would be more fun than expected after all.

***

Harry couldn’t think straight.

It had been a week. A full fucking week of tossing and turning in his bed as he had his mind with Eden. For some stupid reason. She was pretty, sure. But Harry knew there was one more thing about her which is why he couldn’t get her out of his head, yet refused to admit it.

He refused to admit he couldn’t get her out of his head because she was unattainable.

She was at least ten years younger than him and the last thing he needed was yet another woman misreading signals and assuming they were in a serious relationship before he inevitably broke her heart again because love just wasn’t in the cards for him.

Not that he was so hurt by someone it couldn’t happen anymore, but Harry just wasn’t a romantic. People bothered him quickly and he always preferred to be on his own. He sometimes liked dating someone, but after a while they always wanted more. And he could never give it to them.

For most people, it was normal. You like someone, you hang out with them and at a certain point you want to be with them all the time. That point never came for Harry. He liked hanging out but somehow always felt a sense of relief when they left. He just preferred living by himself and controlling when or where he met up with someone.

Which is why he didn’t date, he just fucked. And even then – when he clearly stated beforehand that he wasn’t looking for a relationship – he always ended up being the asshole who broke their hearts. 

He couldn’t exactly have a casual fling or a one night stand with the girl who lived next door. Especially because her father always shot him dirty looks and it’d get out. And Harry really liked this house and didn’t want to move. Not even one bit.

He didn’t miss England anyway. He didn’t miss anyone or anything, he never had. Moving countries on his own was the easiest decision ever. The only thing he took with him, were both his dogs.

His finger mindlessly scratched underneath Lola’s little chin, the fluffy Maltese on the bed with him as he stared up at the ceiling fan. 

The worst part is that he had seen her all week. Every morning, she jogged past his house and down the hill to get her workout in. Skimpy shorts and a sport’s bra, he could see her physique and forced himself not to drool. And every evening, he saw her through the window. Her waves got a little more spontaneous before she closed the blinds and the lights turned off.

And then he laid in bed, thinking of her. She was forbidden fruit and it only made him want her more. The more he told himself he couldn’t, the more he wondered what she was like.

So luck would have it that when Harry decided to clear his head and walk down to the little village for some groceries, Eden just exited her house in a sundress and slippers, a tote bag over her shoulder.

“Hi!” She bubbled, waving at him. Harry winced under his breath, wondering if he could just… slip back inside his house and leave her be. If he could pretend he wasn’t on his way down and came up with an excuse to not go with her – because he knew that’s what she’d ask.

Eden approached him with a soft smile. Her hair was back in a little butterfly clip and she pushed her funky green sunglasses up in her hair, “Are you also going to the village?”

Harry exhaled a breath, running his fingers through his hair, “Yeah.”

“Oh, great. Me too. Trying to brave the heat by going before noon.” Eden seemed to near have a skip in her step, her excitement and spontaneity something Harry had to get used to. He was by himself so often, he just was used to calm and quiet. Eden was like a hurricane, bubbly and very present. He noticed immediately that when they had walked a few steps, her mouth just didn’t close.

“So how did you end up here?” The inevitable question came and Harry stuffed his hands in the pockets of his shorts. His worn-out Vans slid over the gravel road they were walking down on and he kept a bit of a distance from Eden. Not that he couldn’t inhale her citrus-smelling shampoo from a mile away. She smelled fresh and soft and he forced his thoughts to stay pure. The same way he forced his eyes to not focus on the deep V-line of her sundress that showed off the swells of her breasts and he had even gotten a peek at the lace border of her bra. The same way he focussed his eyes not to stare at the length of her legs when a gust of wind exposed the slit in her right leg to bare most of her thigh.

Instead he just shrugged, “Prefer it here. The weather’s nice, food’s good, people are okay. And the dogs love it here.”

“Hm.” Eden nodded, “And do you work here?”

“My companies are based in London. I own a few but I don’t actively work in them anymore. I appointed different COO’s to do that for me, so I can stay here.”

Eden found herself impressed. He couldn’t be older than thirty-five yet here he was, basically retiring in Italy with his two dogs. He owned multiple companies but didn’t work, just made the money for it.

“And you’re only here for the summer?” He changed the subject. To be fair, it was awkward as fuck between him and Eden. Yet she didn’t even seem to pick up on that, telling stories with wide hand gestures in all her excitement while he was slowly dying inside because he wanted to drag her in a bush and kiss her stupid.

She nodded at his question, “Mhm. I think. I mean, I can stay longer if I want to, it’s not like I have anything or anyone waiting for me.” She shrugged her shoulders, “I just graduated and I’m not sure what to do in life, so…”

“What degree do you have?”

“Photography.” 

“Hm.” Harry hummed, “’S a tough field.”

“Sure is.”

It was silent again before he spoke up, “So what kind of photography do you do?”

“So I started out doing portraits but… I don’t know, over the years I just realized I’m better at motion pictures. So things that move, lots of light and people around. Like in clubs or something. I’d really like to be a tour photographer maybe. All of last year I was at this strip club every week to take pictures, that was fun too.”

Harry frowned, “At a strip club?”

“Yeah, like for advertising. I like to take these sort of blurry pictures. So for stripping, that was amazing. Because it’s not too naked or provocative, but more so erotic and artsy. It’s what the owner was looking for so I was in there one night every weekend for the website and socials and stuff.” Eden explained.

He didn’t really say anything, but soaked in the information. Their walk continued in silence until reaching the village, Eden fanning herself with her hand as they slowly strolled around. The markets were still up and so Harry and Eden each took their turn in ordering a few things.

“Red wine?” Harry questioned as Eden put the bottle in her bag. She curled her lips inside her mouth, “Mhm. Dad and Colleen are out tonight, they’re going to this play. So I have the house to myself and I’m cooking and drinking and listening to Arctic Monkeys.”

“Try to keep the volume down.” Harry mumbled, signalling the vendor that he wanted to buy some fish. Eden snorted under her breath, “Yes, dad.”

Harry rolled his eyes and made his order before looking at Eden over his shoulder, “Are you always such a brat?”

“When it’s called for.” She sweetly responded before taking a step closer to Harry again, “But trust me, most of the time I’m really good and do as I’m told.” Her voice took a near purring hint and Harry’s ears turned pink from the way her eyes dropped to his lips before she bit hers and turned around, walking up to where they sold the fruit.

Harry accepted the fish he purchased and strolled behind her, nodding at the vendor as Eden made her purchase of some cubes of watermelon.

“Want some?” She turned around and offered Harry one but he shook his head, “No, thanks.”

Eden shrugged, popping a cold cube of watermelon into her mouth with a soft moan, “Wow, that’s good.”

They eventually moved to sit on a bench, overlooking a square. Harry’s heartbeat bounced as Eden sat close to him, still slowly eating the watermelon. He saw a drop of the juice running down her chin and his fingers dug into his thigh to stop himself from scooping it up. 

Eden couldn’t help but behave this way around him. She hadn’t missed the way he looked at her and there was no denying the clear sexual tension between them. She couldn’t get him out of her head, so maybe one night together was just all it took to soothe that ache and have her moving on. So she flirted, and flirted, and flirted some more.

Harry didn’t exactly seem to pick up what she was putting down, but watching her now as she ate the fruit, he near seemed in pain. And Eden loved it. She swept her tongue over her bottom lip as she finished the jar of watermelon and then turned to Harry, “How long have you lived in Italy for?”

“Couple of years.” He responded, taking a sip of the water bottle he had brought. He stretched his legs out, ankles hooked over one another as he leaned back into the bench, soaking up some sun. Eden slowly nodded at his words, “And do you like it here? Or are you just wanted by the police in England or something?”

Harry chuckled, “Not wanted by the police. Just wanted some peace and quiet and it’s not like I left many people behind. I fly back every now and then but decided to come live here full-time about six years ago.”

“And you’ve always lived in that house on the hill?”

“Yep.” He nodded before clearing his throat, “How about you? Are you having fun here?”

“It’s… yeah.” Eden carefully spoke, nibbling her lip. Harry let her take her time and eventually she took a breath, “I just feel like it’s not really the solution to my problem. I thought I’d get more clarity here but in honesty, I’m just running. Graduating is fun and all, but I just feel insanely lost at this moment, and I have no idea what I want to do with my life whereas it seems like everyone around me does.”

Harry hummed, “Trust me, lots of people are faking that.”

“Maybe.” Eden leaned back a little more, her leg swinging a little as she continued, “It’s like I had a bit of a crisis and needed a complete change, thinking it was going to solve everything. But my problems are still here, only now I’m in the sun in Italy.”

“Seems as good a spot as any to think about life.” Harry offered and Eden smiled, “Mhm. I just got sick of my friends all knowing exactly how their life was going to pan out. Some had insane plans for the summer, wanting to do festivals and parties and I’m usually one for that but I just skipped it all this year and came here instead. Even dumped my boyfriend. Just… a completely new start.”

Harry turned his head to face her, “You dumped your boyfriend? How long were you together for?”

Eden puckered her pink lips in thought, “Probably a little over a year, so not that long.”

“Was he a dick?”

“No.” Eden chuckled, shaking her head, “He was nice. We just… didn’t end up having that much in common. Like I was attracted to him and he was attracted to me and the sex was so amazing, but there wasn’t much more than that.”

Harry found himself slightly surprised. It was his issue with any partner ever. The sex was great, the emotional connection just wasn’t there. At least not for him. With Harry though, it never lasted over a year. And especially when he still lived in London, word just got around and no one really wanted to go on a date with him anymore. He was labelled a player and a heartbreaker.

“I mean, sex is an important part of any relationship.” Harry argued softly, “But I suppose it needs more than that.”

Eden nodded in agreement, “It does. But it is an important part.” Her eyes flicked to him, “You know… You could join me this evening. I’ve got plenty of stuff to cook for two.” She innocently shrugged.

Harry exhaled shakily, “For two, hm?” He tilted his head to the side, “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Eden softly smiled, tipping her head back to catch some sun while simultaneously pushing her tits out. Harry quickly looked away and Eden shrugged, “But you know, always welcome at the house of Eden. You know what it means, right?”

Harry swallowed, “What?”

“Place of pleasure and delight.” She murmured. 

Harry tried to control the shaking of his leg, flicking his eyes back to her to notice she was staring right back at him already, an amused look on her face. Harry held his composure, staring back, “Is it?”

“You have no idea.”

Harry didn’t respond and Eden nibbled her lip, “Unless – of course – you have a partner or something to get back to, or that you already made plans with.”

“I don’t have a partner.” Harry muttered and Eden arched up a brow, “Really?”

“Why do you sound surprised?”

“Because,” Eden shrugged, “you seem like the person men and women throw themselves at.”

“I am.” Harry agreed before a small smirk formed on his lips, “I guess I’m just hard to please.”

Eden wanted to moan. 

Her tummy clenched as she stared back at him. They were close together and she really, really wanted to dip her head and kiss him. It seemed like they had a bit of a power play going on, because Harry now held the upper hand. It was clear in everything. The cocky smirk, the easy eyes, the comfortable position he had.

And Eden wanted control back, “How do you like to be pleased?” She purred.

“I like to be pleased by someone who doesn’t have a smart mouth and doesn’t behave like a brat.” He instantly fired back. Eden held her breath, excitement running through her veins, “So you like control?”

Harry didn’t respond but his lip twitched slightly, his smirk growing. And Eden mirrored him, batting her lashes as she scooted even closer, their thighs touching, “Good. I like being controlled.”

Their eye contact was heavy until Harry turned his head, shaking his head softly with a smirk playing on his lips, “Something tells me you don’t.”

Eden near crawled up on his lap, “Only one way to find out.”

“We really shouldn’t.” Harry stayed level-headed, shaking his head at her. Eden was a little taken aback but rolled her lips inside of her mouth, “Okay.”

“Not that I don’t want to.” Harry shrugged, never really passing on an opportunity for casual sex with a girl as pretty as Eden, who then also was witty and quick on her feet and made his stomach flutter in anticipation. He could picture her with little horns on and he’d take much pleasure in taking her down a peg in the bedroom. She could be a challenge.

But there were too many red flags and Harry had to be the responsible adult. There was an undeniable attraction for sure, but acting it out wouldn’t be a good idea.

Eden could see the hesitation in his eyes and worried she maybe came off too strong. She had to admit that coming to live in Italy, she expected to be closer to a city so she could go out and party and bring home whoever she pleased to have the summer of her life. The only thing here was a very hot neighbour who then apparently refused to go there with her.

And Eden had an itch that needed scratching.

She exhaled shakily, “Well, if you change your mind… you know where to find me.”

***

And Harry was on the fucking verge of changing his mind. If Eden had been on the forefront of his thoughts the past week, it definitely hadn’t gotten any better after their little conversation on the bench. 

She liked being controlled and she wanted to please him. Harry came home to put his hand down his pants and rub one out, finishing embarrassingly fast after all the built-up tension. And she fucking knew what she was doing. She knew he was lusting after her, that he found her hot and sexy and that he was attracted to her.

In a way, she was playing him. Acting innocent but being a little devil deep down. They hardly knew anything about one another but somehow they didn’t care to. It was physical and that was that. Harry didn’t need that emotional connection and Eden just wanted to get laid. Still, it was a fucking bad idea. She’d be here the rest of the summer and Harry couldn’t predict how she’d behave. Either she’d start behaving like his girlfriend and he wouldn’t be able to get rid of her, or she’d give him the cold shoulder which would turn things just plain awkward.

Furthermore, he never wanted her father and stepmother to find out she had fucked her much older neighbour. Even if he didn’t necessarily have a connection to them either, they were still neighbours. Harry took it into account, how perhaps one day he’d need to drop off his dogs for an emergency. He needed the reassurance that he could count on them.

He lived a quiet, secluded life here and in no way wanted to fuck that up.

But it wasn’t easy when she behaved like that. Prancing around her room with hardly any clothing on, knowing full well he could see her. 

All throughout the evening, he had snuck glances. Walking his dog for the final time that day, he passed by her house to notice the car being gone. Music came from inside, just soft beats which was not what he had expected. He could imagine her dancing around the house with a bottle of wine in her hand in just her panties. 

And so Harry stopped himself from knocking the door to go back into his own house and brood some more.

Shit like this always happened. He met someone, got borderline obsessed with them, fucked them and then it was all over. 

And so Harry decided to go to sleep and just get her out of his head. Tiredly, he dragged himself up the stairs and into his bedroom, instantly glancing out the window to see if Eden was there perhaps. He was met with a darkened room on her end, and so he walked around to get ready for bed. 

By the time he was back in front of his window to close the blinds, his heart near stopped when he noticed her lights were on too. Squinting, Harry could faintly see Eden moving around the bedroom. In lace underwear and nothing else. She held a glass of red wine in her hand that was almost done, and she finished it in one sip before putting it down somewhere.

With her back to him, she then climbed up on her bed.

Harry held his breath, seeing the curve of her behind as she pushed her ass out, on her knees on the bed. 

He should’ve looked away, and he knew it. But he was in a trance. In a trance when Eden sat up and split her thighs over one of the pillows she grabbed. He was in a trance when she tipped her head bac and her hips rolled on their own accord. He was in a trance when she was humping the pillow to get herself off. 

Harry gulped thickly, watching the way her body rocked itself into the pillow. Eden leaned forward to arch her back but flipped her hair back, her hands grabbing fistfuls of the sheets as she sped up a little bit.

He could see the curling of her toes as she continued riding the pillow, her body moving itself in sultry waves. She threw her head back again, espresso-coloured locks casting down her back as her mouth was open. Harry wondered if she was moaning. Whimpering. Screaming.

He stood completely frozen, watching the girl in the neighbouring house ride herself to an orgasm and before he knew it, his hand was in his pants and Harry wrapped his fingers around his aching shaft. His breaths turned short as he pulled in languid motions from base to swollen tip, speeding up when he noticed her speeding up.

His heart stopped for a short moment when Eden seemed to look at him over her shoulder, but she quickly diverted her eyes again and continued. She leaned back now, hands cupping her own tits as she ground down into the pillow harder.

“Fuck.” Harry whispered, tugging his cock. The house of Eden, a place of pleasure and delight. An fucking hell, it really was.

And as Eden shuddered and shook and her hands turned white from gripping the sheets, Harry finished inside his boxers. He moaned, feeling the pulsing of his erection as he spurted out cum into his pants. His bicep bulged and he hissed through his teeth, trembling on his knees.

Eden seemed to slum down, her chest heaving as she relaxed, her thighs still shivering. Even if Harry’s vision was slightly blurry, it felt like he could see all of her very up close for some reason. Every detail, every ridge, line and bump of her. All the curves, freckles, dips and every clench of her muscles.

He stayed in a trance for a moment longer until Eden moved, and right as she turned around, Harry ducked behind the wall to hide himself. His breaths were heavy and he didn’t dare looking. In fact, he slid down to a seated position against the wall and waited at least ten minutes. With filthy pants, a filthy hand and his heart hammering in his chest. When he finally dared having a look, Eden’s blinds were closed and her room was dark.

***

“So how was the play?” Eden asked as she sipped coffee in the morning. 

Colleen and her father had returned in the early hours of the morning after Eden had long gone to sleep. She didn’t hear them return, her mind too dazed on the wine and her orgasm to hear or sense anything. 

“Really good!” Colleen chirped, “We had fun, stayed for a drink.”

“Hey – uh, Tony said he saw you and the neighbour at the market?” Her father questioned as he bit his toast. Eden lifted her eyes, “Who’s Tony?”

“He sells fish down in the village. Said he saw you two together.”

She frowned, a thick crevice etched between her brows while putting her mug down, “Are you spying on me?”

“What?” Her father chuckled, “Of course not, honey. He was there too and asked how we were, I said my daughter moved to town for a few weeks or months and he recognized you. New people are a big deal here, Eden. It’s a small town so everyone knows everyone.”

Eden rolled her eyes, “So what if I went to the market with him? We happened to be going in the same direction.”

“I’ve told you before, I’d prefer you to stay away from him.” Ron frowned, “He’s too mysterious.”

“He’s not mysterious.” Eden laughed, staring at her father in disbelief, “You just don’t know him.”

“Oh, and you do?! Eden, he’s literally ten years older than you.”

“What’s that got to do with anything.” She challenged and Ron clenched his jaw, “He’s too old to be your friend or whatever you want him to be.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Whatever I want him to be?” She repeated, pressing her lips together, “Why don’t you just call me a whore while you’re at it?”

“Eden!” He yelled and she raised her brows, “Hm? Seriously, what is the big deal with me having a fucking conversation with the neighbour? Did he piss on your flowers or something? You’re acting like we’re about to get married.”

He let out an aggravated breath, “Enough! It’s seriously impossible to have a bloody normal conversation with you.” He then got up to his feet, “As long as you live under this roof, you’ll do as I say! Or you can just go back to your mother!”

Eden felt like she got punched in the throat, staring up at him in horror. He was breathing heavily, glaring at her while Colleen stood off to the side, holding her breath.

“Seriously?” Eden muttered and he took a breath, “Seriousl-“

“Well, seriously fuck off!” Eden yelled, pushing her chair back before storming up the stairs. Her blood pumped through her body in rage as she harshly slammed the door of her bedroom, feeling fucking seventeen again.

The divorce between her parents was something that would forever haunt Eden. Ever since her mum and dad broke up, she felt like she didn’t belong anywhere. Her mum’s house didn’t feel like home, this didn’t feel like home.

And him saying that, just poured salt in a fresh wound that was attempting to heal up. Eden felt like an intruder everywhere. Her mum had a new boyfriend, her father had Colleen. He had sounded excited when she asked to spend the summer here, and after hardly one fucking week he had told her to go back to her mother.

Who would tell her to go back to her father.

Eden needed fresh air, so after changing into a bikini and putting a cap on top of her head, she headed back downstairs. She avoided the kitchen and living room at all costs, sneaking out the side to find a spot in the garden to tan a little bit. She had a book with her, and headphones to close off the outside world. Perhaps that way, she could pretend she was by herself.

The blue of the water in Harry’s pool looked inviting, but Eden knew better than to jump his fence and claim his garden for her own. She found a corner of the garden where no windows could spot her. She’d let her father think she was brooding in her room until he was ready to come apologize to her. 

And if he didn’t, she’d look for a flight tomorrow.

Eden had only been sitting down for about ten minutes until she heard a splash from the side. Sitting up in the sunbed, she squinted her eyes to see waves in Harry’s pool. Only seconds later, his head came up as he shook his hair out and puffed out a breath. 

His tanned skin glistened in the droplets, sunlight brightening him up. His two dogs excitedly jumped in the pool too, making an even larger splash. Eden peeked through the bushes to see him grinning and playing around a little.

His smile was beautiful, she felt. 

Last night when he looked at her through his window, he wasn’t smiling though. Eden could be mistaken, but if she wasn’t, it’d mean he was jerking off while she was humping a pillow. His lips had been parted, his brow scrunched up in delight. The rhythmic bulging of his bicep could mean he was stroking himself, but Eden hadn’t seen anything below his hips.

If she was correct, Harry had seen everything. And she had wanted him to.

She had sat waiting for him for the largest portion of the evening, hoping he’d come knocking on her door to fuck her into oblivion. Instead, she drank wine and danced around the house, enjoying being by herself for once. And he never showed up, so she decided to let him see what he had been missing out on.

Harry stayed in the pool for a little longer until hoisting himself out. Eden drooled at the sight of his back, so many muscles flexing and making him look absolutely incredible. Harry reached for a towel off to the side of the pool as his dogs also climbed out. He turned around, and the view made Eden’s throat even more dry.

Tattoos, so many of them. A well-defined six-pack of abs. The cross pendant glimmering in the sunlight and resting between small curls of chest hair against his sternum. He was ripped and so fucking gorgeous. Eden hardly realized she was clenching her thighs together as she stared at him.

Harry wrapped a towel around himself and shook out his hair at the same time his dogs shook out their manes. It was a funny sight, the three of them coordinated like that.

And Eden was too horny to let the moment go by, so she got up her feet, “Hi.” She spoke.

Harry was actually rather close to her, but Eden had been hidden by the bushes. He flicked his eyes up, towel wrapped around himself to dry off. He licked his lip, putting on his sunglasses, “Hey.” His voice sounded raspy and the real reason Harry put on his glasses was to check her out without giving anything away.

Eden was in a two-piece. A dark blue one, at that. Matching his own swimming shorts. The panties looked like they were a thong, bands sitting high up on her hips and nothing but a small triangle covering up between her legs.

Her tits near spilled out of the top, a simple bandeau bikini for minimal tan lines which also pressed her chest up more. She looked fucking delicious. 

“Getting a tan?” He asked, slowly walking over to her, the fence once more separating them. Eden scratched the back of her neck, “Yeah, something like that. You too?”

“Mhm. ‘M behind the house on the other side so I can hide beneath the trees a little bit. Full sun is too hot.” He explained, pointing to where Eden could see just a tiny sliver of one of the sunbeds on the other side of the house, hidden from the house she lived in for now.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Eden fanned herself, “it is very hot. Our garden doesn’t really have any shade.”

Harry shifted on his feet a bit, “I take it you don’t want to go back inside either? I heard shouting earlier.”

She huffed out, pressing her lips together before shaking her head, “Nope.”

“I have an extra sunbed, if you want. You can swim too, cool off a little bit.” It was out before he realized it, but Harry realized he really was in no fit state to talk normally to her when she stood like that in front of him.

Eden raised her brows, “Really? Oh my god, I’d love that.”

“Sure.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. Let me just,” she turned around and Harry’s eyes dropped to her ass, seeing that it was indeed a thong. He groaned under his breath as Eden picked up the few things she brought. Her book, a towel, headphones and sunglasses. Her slippers were on her feet and she casually threw all of her stuff over the fence.

Harry chuckled as she then put her foot up on one of the wooden bars, “Wait, let me –“ He stepped closer, holding out his hands as Eden gracefully climbed the fence, accepting his hands before she jumped over. Her tits jiggled and she offered him a breathy grin, “Thanks.”

Bending down to retrieve her things again, Harry swallowed thickly. He snuck a glance behind him and led Eden to where the sunbeds were. “D’you want anything to drink?” He checked.

“What’re you having?” Eden took a seat on the free sunbed next to Harry’s after brushing off some fallen leaves. The dogs were sniffling around her legs and she gently petted them as Harry put on a flannel to cover himself up a little bit. It was checkered and he left it open, running his fingers through his hair to comb his wet locks back a little bit, “Sangria.”

“Sounds good.” Eden smiled, her eyes not so subtly drawn to his torso and his chiselled abs. Harry nodded and stepped inside of the house to get her some sangria, giving himself a small pep-talk in the meantime where he vowed to stay strong and not succumb to the flirting ways of Eden. Not even after secretly watching her masturbate the night before.

“Thank you.” Eden smiled as Harry handed her the glass and sat down on the sunbed next to hers again. They were shielded by some trees and off to the side of his house, facing the other direction than Eden’s house. No one could really see them here in Harry’s little side garden, which was the perfect spot for some sun and shade.

“They’re not bothering you too much?” Harry nudged his head in the direction of his two very excited dogs. Eden smiled and shook her head, “Absolutely not. I love dogs. What’re their names?”

Harry leaned back a bit, “Sadie is the big one and Lola is the small one.”

“That’s cute.” Eden murmured, scratching both dogs before taking a sip of her sangria, “Are you sure I can take a dip in your pool? I’m honestly so hot.”

“Mhm, of course. Just don’t piss in it.” He joked and Eden threw her head back in a laugh, Harry smiling along as she giggled, “That’s the first time I’ve heard you making a joke.” She teased, getting up from her seat. Harry’s eyes were glued to her ass as Eden walked up to the side of the pool, graciously diving in. 

All he could think of when watching her body, was how she moved when fucking that pillow last night. Delicate lace hugging her figure as she rocked back and forth and touched her own chest, looking so… seductive and sexy.

He took a breather, drinking more sangria as he lounged on the sunbed, hearing Eden splashing around the pool as the dogs joined her. He heard her giggles as she spoke softly to his dogs, petting them. Harry hastily took another sip, downing his glass. He felt blood rushing to his cock, especially when Eden got back out of the pool. She kicked a ball to occupy the dogs before making her way back over to Harry, water dripping down her body.

Harry’s throat ran dry as he diverted his eyes, clearing his throat and pretending to glance at his phone for a bit. Eden stood in front of him, wringing out her hair before tucking it behind her ears. Even just being in the sun for a few seconds, it was like she couldn’t remember the coolness of the water she just came out of.

Or it was Harry’s presence making her feel that hot.

“Your pool is heavenly.” She exhaled. Harry offered her a brief smile but didn’t exactly look at her. Eden put her hands on her hips, “You can look, you know?”

Harry pressed his lips together, shaking his head softly, “I think it’d be inappropriate.”

“But it wasn’t inappropriate last night?”

His head shot up in shock, a hint of pink rising up his neck and his cheeks as he stared at her. Eden smirked softly, “I saw you.” She took a step closer to Harry, eventually sitting down on the sunbed with him. She was so close, he could feel the coolness of her body from the water radiating to his warm skin.

Harry swallowed and tipped his head to the side, analysing Eden until it clicked for him. He narrowed his eyes, “You did that for me?”

“You enjoyed the show, didn’t you?” Eden murmured, scooting a little closer. Harry held his breath, the new information seeping into his brain. She knew he was watching, she wanted him to watch. She did that, knowing he was looking at her through his window.

“You’re insane.” He lowly mumbled and Eden bit her lip, “Well, I was waiting for you.”

“Eden.” Harry warned as she moved, lifting up to sit down on his thighs, straddling him on the sunbed. She pouted, something that made Harry’s heart skip ten beats. With the sun shining behind her, she looked absolutely angelic. The tiny bikini did a shit job at covering her up and her wet skin quickly dried from the temperatures.

“Why not?” She whispered, “I want it, you want it. Just… just once.”

Harry let out a breath and leaned back, swallowing thickly, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “Are you lying to me?”

“No.” She quickly shook her head, “I promise. Twenty-four.”

Harry slowly nodded, “You look younger. And that’s why we can’t do this, I’m thirty-three.”

“I don’t mind.” Eden shook her head, scooting up a little on his thighs. Her eyes dragged over Harry’s toned body, the flannel loosely hanging around his shoulders, “If anything, it’s even sexier.” She rasped, “Boys my age are so immature, I need a real man.”

“You need a real man?”

She nodded, “Uh-huh.” Heat seeped into her bones, blood rushing between her legs at the closeness of their bodies, “I need to be fucked by a real man.”

“God – shit.” Harry cursed, “When I invited you here, I thought you’d behave.”

“I am behaving, aren’t I?” Eden panted slightly, “’M just begging for you.”

Harry’s eyes stared at her, sitting on top of him. Her chest heaved in shallow breaths and he swallowed, “You are. Just a pathetic, little thing you are, hm? Need to be controlled so bad, can’t even keep yourself in check around me. You want me so bad.”

“I do.” She moaned, “Please… I just want –“

“Shut up.” Harry muttered, making Eden’s eyes widen as he stared at her, “I don’t care about what you want. I’m in charge. Always.”

Eden panted out, her eyes hazy as she stared at him. Harry’s eyes darted over her face, “So pathetic.” He tutted, the tip of his index finger dragging up her thigh, creating goosebumps in its voyage, “I could just use you, hm? I could just… do whatever I want to you and you’d take it like a good girl just because you’re so desperate for me.”

Eden’s thighs tensed as she tried to listen to him but the words sounded so hazy to her. She just swallowed dryly and nodded, causing Harry to smirk and exhale a breathy chuckle, “Fucking pathetic little whore, you. Nothing but a little cockslut, hm? Should’ve known.”

“Fuck.” Eden whimpered, scooting up higher on his lap. Her hands found his chest, nails digging into his skin as she urgently rocked her hips into his growing length. Harry’s eyes fluttered at the stimulation, Eden tipping her head back in bliss from the relief of her clit rubbing into his swimming shorts.

“Fuck me.” Eden moaned, arching her back as she continued grinding into him, “Please, fuck me.”

Harry’s tongue poked the hollow of his cheek, “Think it’s that easy? You strip in front of your window and you get my cock?”

His dirty talk was so effortless, leaving Eden shaking and trembling. She could moan when Harry’s hands were suddenly on her hips, pushing her off. Eden was too stunned to react immediately, but found herself straddling just one of his muscular thighs now. She exhaled a sharp breath while staring down, seeing her legs split over the tiger tattoo on his leg.

“Go ahead.” Harry rasped, folding his arms back behind his head as he shot her a cocky look, “Ride me, do what you wanted to do last night. ‘S what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Eden shook her head, “I-I want your cock.”

“Brat.” He hissed, sending her a glare, “Said you’d behave, said you’d take whatever I give you. Well, this is what you get. For now.”

It sounded like a promise. Eden licked her dry lips. Behave now, get fucked by him later. Good. She shuddered just thinking about it, imagining him taking her from behind as she laid immobilized on the bed, perhaps even tied up, and he spoke to her in that low tone with those filthy words as his dick destroyed her.

Eden’s thighs tensed and Harry felt it, smirking slightly as he dropped his eyes to where Eden started grinding into his thigh. Her hands were on his chest still, holding herself up as she rolled her pelvis to rub into him. Just like with the pillow, his eyes were focussed on the way her body moved, the muscles she flexed, the breaths she held and the little moans she let out.

He had expected her to be loud for some reason, but she was biting her lip, whimpering out softly as she closed her eyes and worked herself on top of him. And Eden could feel his eyes on him, making her feel more powerful than she dared to admit.

She moved one hand, cupping her breast over her bikini top to give herself a squeeze. Harry’s eyes zeroed in on the touch, his fingers gripping the sleeves of his flannel to keep himself from pulling her top down and see all of her.

Next, her hand moved lower over her torso and down her hip before she shortly lifted off and hooking her bottoms to the side. Harry’s eyes bulged when Eden exposed her pussy and sat down again. A shaky moan left her lips as she picked up her pace again. Harry saw the glistening of his tiger tattoo, Eden’s wetness and arousal leaving a trace.

He was mesmerized, his arms still behind his head as he let her use his fucking leg to shamelessly ride herself to an orgasm. 

“Doing so good.” Harry murmured, eyes gazing in on the way her pussy lips spread over his thigh and her clit brushed his skin. He hummed at the sight, licking his lips, “So hot, Eden… Jesus.”

“Want you,” She panted out, “fuck – please… I need you.”

Harry swallowed, “’M right here.”

“No, you.” Eden choked out the words, “God – just fuck me.” She leaned over him, her forehead leaning against his. Their noses brushed together as she arched out. Harry tasted the sangria on her lips, “Sei così sporco,” He groaned, “implorando il mio cazzo in questo modo.”

“Holy shit.” Eden squeaked, “More.”

“Io che parlo Italiano ti eccito?” Harry smirked, “Puttana del cazzo.” He whispered, “Such a fucking whore, just look at you…”.

Eden moaned, “God – fuck, I’m gonna cum.” She whimpered, “Harry, I’m gonna cum.”

“Good girl. Brava ragazza.” He murmured, “I bet that little cunt tastes so sweet, hm? C’mon, look at me when you cum for me.”

Eden forced her eyes open, her body slumping in fatigue as sweat pearled her hairline. “O-Oh god,” She moaned, “yes!” The choked whimper escaped her throat as she sharply bucked forward and electricity shot through her body, toes curling as her eyes screwed shut.

Harry watched as she came, shaking, whimpering, deliriously grinding. Creamy arousal leaked from her to wet his thigh. He couldn’t even feel the pinching of her nails in his skin, too mesmerized by the sight in front of him. 

“’S a good girl.” Harry cooed, brushing his nose into Eden’s as she panted out sharply, her ears ringing. “Harry,” She murmured, cupping his cheeks. His eyes widened in surprise when she kissed him. He hadn’t expected it one bit, her lips on his. It almost seemed like Eden didn’t realize she was doing it, her eyes staying closed, just a soft kiss to his lips before she kissed his chin and then his jaw.

His eyes fluttered in delight of her gentle kisses, sponging up and down his jaw while her hands roamed his chest. Her fingers moved lower to his abs and then finally the waistband of his swimming shorts. That’s when Harry snapped out of it.

His eyes opened and he inhaled a sharp breath. He was painfully hard and Eden’s delicate touches didn’t necessarily help his cock twitching, “What are you doing?”

“I want to touch you.” Eden panted, opening her eyes finally. She looked drunk on her orgasm and Harry huffed, “Told you before, I don’t care about what you want. This is on my terms.”

“Harry, I want to touch you.” Eden repeated. His jaw tensed as he used both hands this time. His fingers came down on her cheek in a slap, making Eden gasp before he grabbed her chin and held up a finger of his other hand, “No.” He repeated.

Eden hardly seemed fazed by his slap, her cheek stinging deliciously. Her entire body trembled as Harry held her up by her chin and held up his finger in front of her in warning. But Eden didn’t feel too warned, ignoring him once more as she opened her lips and sunk down on his finger to suck it into her mouth.

Harry’s eyes glazed over in lust as he watched, Eden with drunk eyes and her cheeks hollowing out around his digit. She took him all the way, tongue swirling around before she moaned. Harry snapped out of it again after a moment, grabbing her throat instead to yank her up. She gasped as he squeezed her throat warningly, “Eden.” He hissed.

“I want to please you.” She wheezed out, making Harry choke her harder. Her eyes closed as she fought for air in the best way, her head growing dizzy as she still sat on his lap. Her hands clawed at his chest. Harry released at the right point, leaving Eden with a headrush so strong she near fainted.

“You still want to please me?” Harry taunted, “I’ll make you choke on my cock like that.”

Eden softly coughed, still held up by Harry’s hand around her throat as she managed to nod, “Yes – please.”

He smirked wickedly, shoving her off his lap. Eden stumbled a bit as Harry laid outstretched on the sunbed, swallowing as he reached for his cock in his shorts, pulling himself out. Eden felt weak on her legs when she watched him jerking off slowly, and she found herself on her knees at the end of the sunbed after a minute.

The hot tiles burned her knees but she didn’t care one bit, stroking her hands up Harry’s shins to urge him to scoot closer to her. He did, pulling his cock in slow motions as he inched closer to Eden. He decided to give her a moment and do her own thing before fucking her throat, but Eden seemed to have other plans.

Harry’s eyes widened when she stuck out her tongue to lick up her own release left on his thigh. She licked over his tiger tattoo before hovering over his hard length, spitting back onto him. 

“Fuck.” Harry whimpered, throwing his head back. Eden took the lubricated head of his dick between her lips, tasting the mixture of them together before sucking on him. She made him see stars in a matter of seconds, her mouth tight around the swollen tip of him as she flicked her tongue over his slit continuously. 

Everything in Eden’s movements showed Harry how fucking desperate she was to have him like this. He had her in the palm of his hand, she’d do everything for him. It’s what he wanted, it’s the challenge he liked. Taming her, shutting up that bratty mouth of hers and control her.

“Deeper.” He ordered. Eden batted her lashes at him, sucking on his tip only. Harry had pink cheeks from how heavily he was breathing. Eden popped off, licking her spit-slicked lips, “Make me.”

Harry clenched his jaw, “You’re fucking unbelievable.” He grabbed the back of her neck to force her down. Eden’s eyes widened slightly as he pushed her all the way. Her eyes pinched shut at the burn in her throat as he made her take him deeper. Harry had an impressive length and Eden sucked in a breath through her nose as her airway was restricted.

“There we go, that’s it.” Harry exhaled in bliss, feeling the tightness of Eden’s throat as she contracted around him, throat closing up with a gag from how deep he was. Harry licked his dry lips, “This what you wanted, hm? Wanted it to hurt? Wanted me to fucking bruise your throat? Finally shutting up that smart mouth of yours.” He snarled, using a grip on her hair to pull her off. 

Eden coughed and wheezed, lines of spit falling from her lips and webbing between his tip and her mouth. Her eyes watered and Harry stared at her, smirking softly, “You look pretty like this, Eden. Fucking destroyed cockwhore, so desperate for me.”

Eden licked her lips as she gathered herself, her throat already raw. She put her hands behind her back and shot him a nod. Harry huffed out a chuckle at her eagerness, “Fuck, you’re a dream. Pinch my hip if I need to stop.”

Eden nodded and opened her mouth, allowing Harry to push her down again. It was the nastiest blowjob he had ever gotten. Eden was just a mouth for him to use, not stopping him once as he thrusted up to fuck her throat while holding her head down. Tears leaked down her cheeks as she choked and gurgled on him. Harry’s moans were hidden by the bite on his lip, “Yes, all the way, take me all the way… fuck, feels so good.” He praised her, “Good fucking girl, such a tight throat for me.”

Eden hardly heard him, her vision blurred with tears and her jaw and throat aching as Harry used her and ruined her. She’d bruise and be sore and be without a voice, but it’s what he wanted and she let him want it. She let him take it. The elastic band between them had just exploded and now she was here on her knees, sucking him off with her father in the house next door.

She managed to open her eyes, seeing Harry blissed-out. His face was scrunched up in pleasure, every muscle in his body flexed as he held both hands in her hair to pump her up and down on him. His mouth was open in breathy moans whenever he hit the back of her throat and soon enough, he harshly bit his lip, “Fuck – Eden, ‘m almost there.”

Eden didn’t even have the chance to ask him if he wanted to cum in her mouth or on her face or on her tits, he finished before she could blink. Him being almost there apparently meant he was literally right there. With just one more thrust up in her mouth, Harry threw his head back and came deep inside of Eden’s throat.

Her airway was restricted, spurts and spurts of his hot cum filling up her mouth and her throat. Eden wheezed and coughed, but Harry held her there. Only when she violently slapped his hip, did he open his eyes and let her go. Eden disengaged immediately, ears ringing with panic as she felt most – if not all – of his release spilling down her chin, down her throat and onto her chest as she stumbled back and fought for a breath. 

Her cheeks were pink, her head dizzy and her throat sore as she coughed. Her arms trembled holding her up and her chest heaved in short, quick breaths after being choked by him. Harry hardly seemed to care, laying on his back on the sunbed with his head tipped back and his eyes closed, ragged breaths escaping his mouth.

Eden continued coughing, catching her breath as her chest burned and her tongue felt thick.

With Eden’s mouth leaving him so suddenly, Harry’s hand wrapped around himself again. Hissing in sensitivity, he gently stroked himself in the aftermath of his orgasm. Torturing himself almost. Eden stared as his thighs twitched and he seemed on the verge of pain and discomfort, pumping softly to get the final drops of cum out before he literally shuddered and finally disengaged.

He lazily blinked his eyes open, flannel hanging open over his chest, “You okay?” He checked, panting.

Eden managed to nod, “Yeah.” She rasped, her voice raw and her throat aching. Harry fought his smirk at her wrecked state and pushed up on his elbows, “C’mere.” He patted his thighs and Eden slowly climbed up her feet while Harry tucked himself back into his shorts.

Her legs shook from the lack of oxygen as she sat down on Harry’s thighs again to straddle him. His hands easily found her hips to pull her a little closer. His eyes gazed over her face. Red rimmed and wet eyes, swollen lips and his release basically everywhere. Harry loved it, painting her like this. Claiming her. She hadn’t exactly managed to swallow much and most of his cum was running down her chin, the column of her throat and glistening on her chest.

“Ragazza sporca.” He whispered, leaning forward to let his tongue drag over her skin. Eden’s brain near exploded when she watched him, his tongue running below her collarbone to taste himself. He hummed, licking up everywhere he could reach and swallowing down his own release. 

“Close your eyes.” Harry whispered. Eden panted and did as he asked, closing her eyes. She flinched in surprise when he spat on her face, spit mixed with cum dripping down her cheeks. Eden opened her eyes again, realizing he told her to close them as to not get cum in her eyes. It was thoughtful on the one hand, but Harry had a wicked smirk on his face as he watched her so filthy.

He licked his lips and squeezed her thigh, “Così carino.” He murmured, eyes slowly dragging up her entire form. 

Eden seemed at a loss for words and Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling. She was surprised when he put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in, crashing their lips together. There was pure filth between them and when Harry’s tongue pushed into her mouth, Eden reacted by bringing her arms around his neck.

Her fingers cradled his jaw to tip him back, pressing herself all the way against him. She had to say the kiss surprised her. Passion radiated between them, but Eden it was just an aftermath of whatever sexual had just happened between them. It was lust. A craving. Two consenting adults wanted to rip each other’s clothes off and there was nothing wrong with that.

“Fucking sexy.” Harry lowly commented, eyes darting over Eden’s face where his cum was still streaking down. Eden grinned softly before darting her tongue out to lick over her bottom lip, tasting him a little bit. Harry bit his lip as he watched her swallow. 

Eden looked smug with herself, being able to wreck him at least a tiny bit even if she was the ruined one. Because even if she had an orgasm not even fifteen minutes prior, she wanted more. She was throbbing. Her fingers trembled as she refrained from pushing him down and riding him properly. Right here. 

But on the other hand, she didn’t feel like being rejected all over again. The begging was fun, the playing was fun, as long as she knew someone would inevitably give in at the end. And with Harry, she wasn’t sure.

So Eden got up and ran a hand through her messy hair before turning around and heading back towards the pool. Harry raised his brows, watching her as she walked away, “Eden, don’t you dare.” He warned, his jaw dropping when she dove back into the pool. He jumped up his feet, “Eden! My dogs swim in that water!” He referred to his release transferring from his skin into that water.

Eden came up to the surface with a giggle, “Oops.”

***

It was a few hours later – when Eden felt like toast – when she decided to head back over to her father’s house. 

Her and Harry had been lounging around the pool in the sun, hidden by the trees. They had been mostly in silence, sharing a few words here and there but nothing big or revealing. Eden had the feeling both her and him didn’t really mind. They didn’t exactly need to know one another or put up this façade that there was anything more here than sex.

Maybe it would even burst the bubble. Maybe they’d realize they actually don’t like one another and then all magic would disappear. So they didn’t say much, simply enjoyed the comfortable silence between them as the crickets made noise enough.

“Thank you for letting me stay for a bit.” Eden was gathering her things and Harry looked at her from his laying down position on his sunbed.

Truth was, he would’ve dragged her into the house if his dick was up for it. But he simply wasn’t. He ached, so sensitive still from her blowjob that it would physically hurt his balls to have sex right now. Eden looked absolutely delicious and the memory of her face with his cum painting her, entered Harry’s brain.

She had looked like absolute sex. A sight so erotic he wasn’t sure if he had ever witnessed anything like it before. Most women got shy or overly slutty when he came on their faces. They either hid, or made it a very over the top show of wanting it in their mouths.

Eden had simply looked… comfortable almost. It was fucking sexy. And she had sucked him dry. He had abused her throat, but even if he was fucking up into her mouth she had still managed to actually suck and use her tongue. 

Harry shifted slightly in his position, dragging his eyes up her form. Now that he’d had a taste, he for sure knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away anymore. The forbidden fruit he had taken a little bite out of, needed to be devoured. And he knew she wanted him to. 

It’s why he had found himself slightly surprised when Eden hadn’t made a single flirtatious remark in the past few hours. It was just the two of them here and in all their past encounters, she had been all over him. She had seduced him, pulled out all the moves to get his attention. And now she had him all to herself and Eden didn’t try to get him to blush even once. 

Harry wondered if what they had done was enough for her. Or if he had maybe done something wrong. 

“Sure.” He cleared his throat, getting up too as he put his hands on his hips, waiting as she gathered her things. Harry offered her a small smile, “Let me know if you need to cool down again.”

“Well – uh…” Eden flicked her eyes to her father’s house before pressing her lips together, “I might be going back to the UK sooner than anticipated.”

“What?” Harry frowned, “Why?”

She breathed out a chuckle, “Because I don’t feel too welcome here. A-And maybe I should just bite the bullet and start looking for jobs instead of running away.” The argument with her father was fresh on her mind. He wanted her to stay away from Harry and all but near slut shamed her for seeking his company.

And here she had been, riding his thigh and giving him a blowjob. Eden knew she had a free sexual life that would disgust some if not most, but somehow it stung that her father though that about her. Eden tried to be a bad bitch most of the times and faked it until she made it, but her façade could drop in the blink of an eye when someone close to her commented on her like that.

“So, uh – yeah.” She shrugged, “it was nice meeting you, I suppose.”

“Hey, wait.” Harry frowned, “You’ve barely seen anything from around here, you haven’t explored. You can’t just… leave.”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m gonna be out of here tomorrow but I don’t think I’m gonna stay all summer.” She shrugged.

“You should.”

Eden turned her head to look at him and narrowed her eyes as Harry ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back, “You know, I could show you around some more. Just spend the day with me tomorrow. There’s this… art thing I wanted to see, we can take the car.”

Eden continued frowning as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, “What are you doing?”

Harry exhaled a breath, “What?”

“What are you doing?” Eden repeated, shrugging her shoulders, “You don’t have to… fucking take me out or anything. We both knew what this was. I’m not expecting you to be this nice guy all of a sudden. Yeah, I sucked your dick, I don’t need a medal for it.” She shrugged again, “Let’s just… leave it.”

Harry huffed and shook his head, “I’m not thanking you because you gave me a blowjob. ‘M just… trying to have you enjoy your summer. This place is nice, you know? Fell in love with it when I first visited and haven’t left since. You definitely haven’t seen it that way. And besides, you should take some time before you start working. You busted your ass in college and got your degree, so take the win and enjoy your time off. You’ll work for the next fuckin’ forty years of your life.”

Eden stared at him, both their stances showing some defence. She took a breath and slowly sighed it back out, “Yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah? You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. Just enjoy Italy for a bit.” He shrugged, “I think you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Eden felt surprised. This was probably the most Harry had spoken to her in ever. She timidly nodded, “Right.”

“Come by tomorrow around ten.” He stood behind her and patted her ass, “Off you go.”

Eden shook her head to herself with a chuckle before doing as told. She didn’t climb the fence this time but simply walked out of the front of the house and back into her father’s house. And later that night, she didn’t give Harry a show through the window. She simply closed her blinds, noticing the lights off in his bedroom but on downstairs.

She figured he was on his couch or something, watching something. Or perhaps he was out and left the lights on for the dogs. Or he just forgot.

Getting him out of his head, Eden went to bed and fell asleep easily. 

And when she woke up the next morning, she almost forgot she had met up with Harry. At nine thirty, Eden ran through the house to get ready and grab some coffee. Her father was working in the garden at this hour and Colleen and her had some small talk in the kitchen.

Eden didn’t let anything slip about her plans for the day. She simply said she’d go explore on her own and walk down the hill, perhaps catch a train. 

At ten a.m. on the dot, she sneakily ran over to Harry’s house to ring his bell. He opened up wearing shorts that showed off his tiger tattoo that Eden knew all too well. Pairing it with another wide button-up which was halfway open and a bucket hat on his head, Harry nodded at her, “Morning.”

“Hi.” Eden smiled, the short sundress on her body flowing in the air. It was a nice temperature at this hour of the day. Harry wore worn-off Vans on his feet and had sunglasses in the v-neck of his shirt, a tote bag around his arm, “Brought some fruit for the drive. You hungry?”

“I just had some toast, maybe later.” Eden awkwardly fiddled with her fingers before pressing her lips together, “Can we – uh, go? I don’t want my dad or Colleen to see me here.”

“Why not?” Harry frowned, grabbing his keys and leaving his dogs for the day. They had food, water and a secluded part of his garden to their use, plus the cold tiles of Harry’s airconditioned house.

Eden huffed and shrugged, “Apparently you’re a bad influence.”

“I’d say you’re the bad influence on me.” He smirked before locking up his front door. He then shortly dipped his head to press his lips to Eden’s temple, “Y’look pretty.”

“Stop.” She rolled her eyes, “Don’t do that.”

“What, give you a compliment?” Harry questioned, walking besides Eden to guide her towards his car. It was a rather old car, a pale blue with no roof and an old leather steering wheel. Eden found herself impressed with the vintage look of the car and put her stuff in the backseat, opening up the passenger door to climb in. Harry stood at the driver’s side, holding up the keys, “Do you have a license?”

Her face lit up at what she thought he was suggesting, “Yes.”

“Wanna try?” He smiled and Eden squeaked, “Yes!” She bubbled, jumping over the gear box to get behind the wheel, “Oh wait… other side of the road.”

“Yeah, but it’s easy. You’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

Eden bit her lip, adjusting the seat a bit, “Yeah, okay, I’ll try.” She accepted the keys and with a wide grin on her face, they were on the road in no time. Eden found herself relaxing in the car, her short brown hair flowing in the wind even if she put in a little scarf. The sun climbed up in the sky, warming their skin. No music was on as Eden followed the directions Harry gave her.

They drove past the little town at the bottom of the hill and drove further, onto the highway and little coastroads that overlooked the sea. Waves crashed into the rocks and Eden couldn’t wait to take a dip later. She had a feeling they’d come close to water and brought a two-piece in her bag. 

Harry eventually had her driving into a bit of a larger city where he let her drive through little streets that he seemingly knew like the back of his hand, “This is the largest sort of city close by.” He explained, “There’s cheap parking in there, if you take a left.”

“Here?” Eden pointed and he hummed, “Yep,” his hand found its way to her bare thigh as he gave a gentle squeeze, “’s good. Did you enjoy driving?”

Her skin burned as Eden tried to focus on parking into the space Harry showed her. She swallowed dryly, moving her feet to brake, shift and accelerate, “Mhm. It’s a nice car.”

“Sure is.” He agreed, “Fits you.”

Eden didn’t really respond, unsure of how to take his sudden compliments. Eventually they got out of the car and walked around for a bit, Eden not really knowing what the plan for the day was. She simply went with it and followed Harry around. They stopped for some bruschetta and cold water to hydrate before Harry pushed his sunglasses up in his hair and stared at Eden from across the little rounded table.

His facial hair was slightly longer than the day before, a moustache decorating his top lip and making him look slightly older. It was sexy, Eden thought. She kept her eyes low and finished up her little lunch while feeling his gaze on her, “Why are you staring at me? Do I have something between my teeth?”

He chuckled, leaning his chin on his hand, elbow popped up on the table, “Nope. You just look beautiful.”

Eden rolled her eyes, “Stop flirting.”

“Why? You can flirt with me and I can’t flirt with you?”

“I haven’t been flirting with you. We’re just… acquaintances.” Eden shrugged. Harry raised one eyebrow, “True. You haven’t flirted with me since yesterday. Since we… had sex.”

“We didn’t have sex.” Eden corrected him, “I grinded on your leg and gave you a blowie.”

The corners of Harry’s mouth curled up into a small smirk at the easiness of Eden’s foul mouth, “That’s true. But I’m curious… is that just it? We fooled around and you’re done with me now?”

Eden stared back at him, “What’s the matter, did I hurt your feelings?”

“Ouch.” Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “No, I’d just like to know.”

Eden leaned forward on the table, “You know when I asked you if men and women throw themselves at you and you said yes? You really can’t stand it when someone doesn’t throw themselves at you, hm?”

“Think you bruised my ego?”

She puckered her lips in thought and shrugged, “Sounds like it.”

“Well, if I remember correctly… you were the one begging for my cock.”

“True, I was. But… Well, it’s off-putting if you keep rejecting me all the time. I’m a little desperate but not that desperate. No means no. And you said no.” She shrugged. Harry frowned, “I didn’t say no, I said maybe later.”

Eden rolled her eyes again, “Look, let’s just forget about it. It happened, we both enjoyed it and now we just move on. No biggie.”

“So you don’t want me anymore?” Harry checked and Eden chuckled, “Nope, I’m good. Unless you’re offering yourself on a silver platter… Just saying I don’t wanna work for it anymore. So… maybe it’s your turn to seduce me if you’re that desperate for it.” Her voice ended in a purr and Harry stared at her, his stomach clenching and his face growing hot.

Eden looked at him over the rim of her glass, “Finally ready to tell me where we’re going?”

He cleared his throat, running his finger over his moustache, “Yeah, it’s – uh… an art expo here. From Marino Mazzacurati. He’s a s-“

“A sculptor, right?” Eden finished the words for him and Harry flicked his eyes up, “Yes.” He watched as Eden’s face lit up with a slight twinkle in her eye. A dimple popped in her cheek as she flashed her pearly white teeth. His heart slammed in his chest as she just looked so… pretty.

Her skin was radiant and she had that little scarf in her hair. Her prominent collarbones were accentuated by the thin straps of the floral, white dress she wore. It was simple but so cute.

“So you know him?”

Eden smiled and nodded eagerly, “Yes, I do. I-I’ve studied some of his stuff during college. That’s sick.”

“Yeah, I bought two tickets online last night.” Harry shrugged and Eden arched up an eyebrow, “You did? That’s… sweet.”

“Mhm.”

“Okay. I’m excited.” Eden smiled, “Can we go now?”

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, let me just pay first.” He was ready to get up and Eden frowned, “You don’t have to pay for me.”

“I want to.” Harry shrugged as he scraped his chair back. Eden simply stared at him, watching as he walked up to the cash register and handled their bill in Italian. Soon after, both walked the narrow streets again on their way to the art gallery. Sweat pearled at Harry’s hairline due to the heat as they sought to walk in the shadows to avoid sun and burn up even more.

“This is it.” Harry breathed, taking off his sunnies again now that they were in the coolness of the art gallery. It was rather deserted as the two entered and watched the sculptures. 

Eden tilted her head to the side, looking at a certain piece in a large room. She heard footsteps behind her, Harry coming to stand nearly with his chest against her back. The hair in her neck raised as he breathed down, “It’s quite rare how he managed to represent cubism, expressionism and realism.” He spoke.

Eden’s throat bobbed in a thick swallow, “Mhm. He started out as a gravestone sculptor in his f-“

“Father’s company, I know.” Harry spoke and Eden could hear the smile in his voice. They were silent for a moment until Harry spoke, “Do you like this one?”

“It’s part of the Wrestlers collection, right?”

“Lottatori,” Harry corrected her in the proper Italian, “is what we call it here.”

Eden breathed out a chuckle and stepped aside, moving onto the next piece, “Did you learn Italian when you moved here or did you know it beforehand?”

“I knew a few words beforehand, but I really submerged myself in it when I decided to move here. Even when I was still in London and I hadn’t made the move yet – but knew I was going to - , I was reading books and stuff in Italian, or watching movies with no subtitles. And then moving here… it’s such a small town that really not that many locals speak English.” He explained, once again standing behind Eden.

Eden didn’t respond and Harry’s lip twitched up in a small smile, “I’ve been complimented on my Italian by the locals, by the way.”

“Yeah, you sound good.” Eden murmured and Harry’s smirk grew slightly, “I remember you liking it.”

Eden’s face turned hot at the mention of his Italian dirty talk the day before. She gathered herself, Harry unable to see her face. She flinched ever so slightly when his hand came up from behind her, reaching around to gently grab her chin, “You have to look at it from this angle.” He murmured, tilting her chin slightly.

She held her breath as she let him reposition her gaze, seeing the sculpture from a different angle to have it make sense. She puffed out a small breath of air, “Oh. I see.”

They moved on again, Eden stopping at the next one, “This is Little Caesar, right?” She questioned before her eyes zeroed in on the little information tag by the sculpture. “Yes,” Harry confirmed from behind her, “pretty sure it’s a replica though. If I’m not mistaken, his original one was sold.”

Eden slowly nodded. Her muscles tensed when she felt Harry’s hand on her hip from behind, giving a gentle squeeze through the thin fabric of her sundress, “C’mon.” He nudged her to the side, keeping his hand on her to guide her to the next piece.

This time, he placed both hands on her hips, standing closely behind her and peering at the sculpture over her shoulder. When Harry didn’t feel her pulling away, he went as far as slipping his arms around her form to pull her into him. 

With her back against his chest, he encaged her. Eden exhaled a breath and relaxed into him. Harry hummed at the feeling, “’S good. Lean back.”

Eden heart thrashed in her chest as she did, breathing shakily. Harry’s hand slipped slightly higher until he palmed her breast over the dress, giving a squeeze to her chest before reaching higher to cup her jaw again and tilt her to the side.

His lips came down on hers easily and Eden whimpered in surprise, tensing up. 

Harry kept it modest and even slightly teasing, giving a soft yet deep and long kiss to Eden’s lips before pulling back. She chased him slightly, needing more but Harry didn’t give in. He had a slight smirk on his lips and then used his fingers on her chin to direct her eyes back to the art, “That’s where you’re supposed to be looking, mia dolcezza.”

Eden flushed pink as she blinked a few times, staring at the sculpture again even if her legs felt weak. She felt grateful for Harry’s arms around her, and he smirked wider upon feeling her instability. 

Continuing the teasing touches, they made their way through the gallery. Eden tried to get the control back though, so every time Harry tried to kiss her, she pulled back right before his lips touched hers.

It was a game. For the both of them. 

And Harry had a feeling that it would be, which is why he had something planned for the afternoon. A boat ride, a yacht, just the two of them. Out in the ocean, there were no curious eyes, no one to disturb them.

Eden felt on a fluffy cloud when Harry drove them towards the coast and the harbour. She couldn’t even explain her giddiness upon seeing the boat, which Harry steered. She laid on the deck while staring at him. Their sexual tension was high, the boat rocking to the waves as they were surrounded by blue water.

“This is insane.” Eden mumbled. Harry dropped the anchor as he joined Eden on the deck, sun warming their skin. He closed his eyes and hummed, tilting his head up to the rays, “Liking Italy a bit better already?”

She chuckled, “For sure. I could get used to this.”

“A rich gentleman taking you out? You know what that’s called, right?” He teased.

“As if you wouldn’t jump on the opportunity to be my sugar daddy.”

Harry threw his head back in a laugh, “No comment.” He then glanced at her, “Want some wine?”

“Oh! Yes, for sure.” Eden grinned, “Oh my god, this is perfect. I wanna stay here forever.”

Harry chuckled and got up again, ditching his button-up and using his time below deck to quickly put on his swimming shorts and grab a bottle of pink wine and two glasses. 

Sunglasses on his nose, he went back to the deck to give Eden her glass. He found her slipping off the sundress as she was on her knees, and he stopped in his tracks.

She was in her underwear, just a small thong and a lace bralette covering her private parts. He could see her nipples through the lace, and the tiny thong did nothing to conceal her. Eden arched her back, making it a show of taking the dress off before their eyes locked. She smiled softly to herself, seeing Harry with his jaw on the floor.

Getting up, Eden sought her balance on the wobbly boat, “Can I change downstairs?” She checked, “I brought a bikini.”

Harry’s throat felt dry before he forced himself to nod, “Y-Yeah.”

“Okay.” She sweetly smiled. It gave Harry a few minutes to gather himself, and when she returned she was in a bikini as pink as the wine he poured. It hugged her tightly, showing her nipples through the little triangles covering her up with an equally small piece of fabric acting as her bottoms.

“Thank you.” She accepted the glass Harry offered her before they took their spots on the deck, sipping some wine. Both were lounging on a fluffy towel, soaking in the sun. Harry couldn’t keep his eyes of her body while Eden tried her best to keep her eyes off his.

The tattoos, the tan, the chest hair… He was just irresistible. Is she wasn’t so proud and stubborn, she would’ve jumped him. But Eden had the upper hand and she wanted to enjoy it – even if she knew deep down she’d crumple if he even gave her the smallest amount of attention.

And when the silence took over and Eden drank her wine, she could just imagine herself slowly riding him here on this deck. Harry blissed out beneath her as she’d rock her hips into him, feeling him deep inside her. The sun would be going down, engulfing them in an orange hue as she’d grind to the motions of the waves and make his toes curl in pleasure.

Goosebumps rose over her legs before she cleared her throat, “I’m gonna take a dip.” She announced. Harry watched as Eden got up and stretched her arms, “You too?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, “I need some cooling down.”

Eden chuckled and put her glass inside of the little cabin before making a short run off to the side and diving into the cold water. Harry watched her disappear before she rose up a bit of a distance away, quickly followed as Harry too jumped in.

The bright sunlight reflected off the surface of the ocean and Eden smiled widely, throwing herself back to float in the endless pool of salt water. She heard soft splashing nearby and it came as no surprise to her to feel Harry’s hands on her waist, pulling her into him.

Eden giggled as his arms wrapped around her form, and with both of them no longer kicking up, they submerged. Eden closed her eyes, her teeth showing underwater as sound died down. Harry’s hands moved to her ass underwater, and it came as no surprise to Eden to feel a pucker of his lips against her own before he pulled them back up.

He coughed slightly and when Eden opened her eyes, she was met with a grinning Harry. He playfully splashed some water her way before diving back underwater to swim a lap around the boat. Eden climbed back up on the ladder in the meantime, dropping down onto the deck with a sigh to let herself dry.

Harry joined her a few moments later, water dripping down his abs as he let out a breath, “That felt great.” He commented, plopping down on his towel next to Eden, who hummed, “It did.”

Silence took over for a minute, Eden nibbling her lip until she sat up. Her wet hair dripped down her back but the scorching sun was drying her up quickly. She glanced at Harry, “Can you put sunscreen on me?”

Harry blinked his eyes open, “What?” He sat up, “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

Eden sent him a sweet smile, “Good. Thank you.” And before Harry’s eyes, she reached behind her to undo her bikini, ripping the top piece off of her body. Harry swallowed thickly when Eden was left topless, his eyes shamelessly dropping to her soft tits.

His cock jumped in his swimming shorts as Eden rolled around to lay down on her front. Harry got the hint, reaching into one of the bags for some sunscreen before he hovered over her. Squirting the product in his hands, he started rubbing it into her warm skin.

Eden closed her eyes when he gave her a slight massage, the fingertips pressing into some sore spots on her back as he made his way down her back to the dimples all the way at the bottom. 

And he didn’t stop there. Eden bit her lip when his hands were on her ass cheeks. She knew her bikini bottoms were more of a thong than anything else, and that most of her flesh was exposed. Harry took his advantage, getting his hands on her, “Wouldn’t want you to burn this pretty little peach.” He murmured.

Eden softly hummed and he continued massaging her ass cheeks. Harry had his lip between his teeth as he stared at her plump behind, “D’you like it?” He asked. After a few seconds of silence, Harry glanced at Eden’s face to see her eyes closed. He clenched his jaw, bringing his hand back to deliver a sharp slap to her right cheek.

Eden yelped as she felt the sharp sting, immediately opening her eyes. Harry grabbed a fistful of her ass cheek in his palm, “I asked you a question.”

“Yes.” She breathed out, “Y-Yes, I like it.”

Harry hummed before pulling her hip, forcing Eden to roll over. Her tits bounced from the movement and Harry licked his lip, staring down at her again. Spreading more sunscreen around his palms, he wasted no time in placing his hands on her boobs to massage in the product. Eden held her breath, staring at Harry as he seemed mesmerized by her chest.

He kneaded softly before brushing his thumbs over her nipples, hardening them in a matter of seconds. He didn’t seem to mind that he used way too much product, covering Eden’s breasts in a white sheen of sunscreen.

“So filthy.” He mumbled, leaning down to let spit land on her chest from between his puckered lips. Eden moaned softly, feeling the warmth of his saliva on her skin before he spread that around too. His eyes looked glazed over, drunkenly staring at Eden as her tits glistened in his spit.

“Your turn.” Eden breathed, locking her leg around his thigh to flip them around. Harry’s eyes were wide in surprise when Eden climbed on top of him. Her hair was wild and untamed and she placed her palms on his bare chest, pushing her own tits together. Harry couldn’t keep his eyes away, breathing shakily at the erotic sight.

His hard cock was trapped in his swimming shorts, but he had no doubt Eden was aware of his erection. And that she was aware that she was the cause for it. She loved it, knowing she had a certain power over him. 

Harry stared up at her, illuminated by sunlight. His hands immediately smoothed over her thighs as she straddled him, sitting snugly up against his cock. “Sembri radiosa.” He mumbled, “come il sole.”

Eden breathed sharply as the Italian words tumbled from his mouth. Spreading the sunscreen between her palms, she then started rubbing the product into Harry’s chest. Subconsciously, her hips rocked into him simultaneously as the way she was moving her hands. 

“Fuck.” Harry sighed, dropping his head back and closing his eyes, giving Eden full control over his body. She stroked over his chest, up to his shoulders and then down his abs. He felt her shuffling down and then her hands were on his thighs. Moving higher, she pushed the fabric of his shorts up until stopping before reaching his dick.

Silently asking for permission, Harry realized. He kept his eyes closed, giving Eden equally silent permission by lifting his hips. She hesitated for a moment before sliding down the waistband of his shorts to free his cock.

“God – fuck.” Harry cursed, his fists balling when Eden’s hand wrapped around his throbbing dick. He was wet in precum, forcing himself to open his eyes and push up on his elbows to at least see the sight in front of him. Eden, topless, stroking him from base to tip with a twist in her wrist. 

She had her lip between her teeth, “You’re big.” She commented. Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Yeah. You still want it?”

“Mhm.” She nibbled her lip before releasing it with a pop, “It’s gonna hurt. I want it to hurt.”

Harry groaned and quickly grabbed her, pushing her on her back on the deck before his fingers fumbled with her bottoms. Eden assisted him, lifting her hips too so she could be as naked as him. Harry shuffled out of his shorts and pushed Eden’s legs to the side to spread her for him.

The boat rocked on the ocean as he stared down her bare cunt, wet in arousal as her lips were spread for him. He could see every fucking inch, hungrily licking his lips, “I can’t fucking wait.” He groaned.

“J-Just fuck me.” Eden choked out. She submissively brought her hands up over her head to give Harry all the room and space he needed, arching out her chest for him. He spat down again, using his fingers to spread it around her nipples as he breathed harshly, “It’s gonna hurt.” He warned.

Eden just nodded, “I know, make it hurt – please. I need it hard.”

“God, you’re such a fucking whore.” Harry bit, guiding himself to her. His tip caught with her entrance and Eden mewled, shuddering at the pressure. Harry stared down at where they touched, not pushing in more than just an inch, “Like that?”

“Fuck, yes!” Eden moaned. Harry panted out, “You’re so wet.” He whispered, watching as he pulled his tip back out, shining in her arousal. He dragged his cock up her slit, pressing into her clit. Eden shuddered and writhed more. A blurt of precum pearled her clit and Harry fucking lost it. Without more thought, he pushed inside of Eden in one swift motion.

She let out a high-pitched moan, clenching her thighs at the intrusion. It stung and hurt, but in a way so delicious her eyes rolled back. He was big, stretching her. And deep. So fucking deep. 

“Fuck, baby, haven’t even started and you’re creaming over my cock.” He taunted, although Harry’s voice slightly trembled too as he tried to hold himself together. Eden was wet and warm, and after letting her adjust for a bit, he could feel her completely melting and relaxing. 

“That’s good.” Harry praised, “That feels so fucking good… what a good, wet girl you are.”

Eden bit her lip and moaned, bucking back into him. Harry kept her legs wide open before he drew back and slammed back in. A gasp was stuck in Eden’s throat as her eyes bulged at the pressure, and Harry could only watch in awe as her tits bounced.

They were naked on the deck of a public boat, but no one was around them. The boat rocked a little and the sun was hot on Harry’s back as he sat on the heels of his feet with Eden in front of him.

He was fucking her raw, but neither cared. His cock was wet in her arousal, pulling back before pushing back in. Eden squeaked with every thrust, her eyes watering. 

After a few minutes of easing Eden into it, Harry got more comfortable. He leaned one hand next to her head, pushing her leg up with the other so her knee was against her shoulder and she was split wider for him.

“God – Harry…” Eden whimpered, “harder, please… harder.”

“Harder?” He panted, “You’re a fucking whore.”

Her eyes were screwed shut, “I am.”

“Tell me how often you’ve done this, huh?” He fucked her harder, his skin slapping against hers, “How often have you fucking seduced a man to spoil you and then fuck you like this?”

Eden couldn’t respond and Harry grew impatient again, raising his hand to slap her cheek, “Tell me.”

“I-I d-“ Eden gasped, crying out as Harry angled himself differently and screwed into her harder, “Such a dumb whore for cock.” He spit, “needing a rich, older guy to put you in your spot, hm? Need me to feel good. Need me to fucking destroy your cunt like this.”

Harry grabbed her hair to cock her head back harshly, Eden stretched out as she still refrained from using her hands. She had an adventurous sex life before, but she had never been fucked like this. On a boat, after just having a day full of tension altogether. And it just snapped. The touching just got out of hand and now here she was, with a man balls deep inside of her.

“Gonna let me feel this pussy cum for me?” Harry panted, popping his thumb in his mouth before pressing down on her clit. Eden shook and mewled as he drew tight circles, at the same time his cock kept brushing into her g-spot over and over again. 

“H-Harry – oh my god…”

“Feels good?”

She threw her head back with a moan as her tummy tightened, “Y-Yes, I’m gonna cum… Oh my god, you’re gonna make me cum.”,,

Harry held his breath when he felt it, her walls pulsating around him as her body trembled. Eden cried out curses, her hands finally attempting to reach for him. Harry caught her hands easily, lacing their fingers together as he pushed them back over her head and completely hovered over her. His hips didn’t let up, continuing to fuck into her in sharp, short pulses.

He watched Eden’s eyes water, the way her brow scrunched up in pleasure, the way her lips gaped. He spat in her open mouth and saw the way his saliva pooled on her tongue before she choked and coughed slightly.

Her orgasm seemed endless, Eden unable to get any air to her lungs as Harry relentlessly fucked her. And when she was on the verge of passing out, he pulled out sharply. Eden whimpered and shook as Harry grabbed her hip and rolled her around again. She was on her stomach, feeling his hands on her hips as he pulled her up. She leaned on her elbows as he pushed her knees to the side and slid into her again.

“God, y’feel so fucking good…” He moaned.

Eden couldn’t do anything but whine, feeling as her knees bruised from the hard deck, same as her elbows as she scooted up with each hard thrust of Harry’s hips. She was on the constant brink of pain and pleasure, letting him use her like a fucktoy but she wanted nothing else.

She was trembling, her lungs burning as she couldn’t seem to get a decent breath in. All the air got knocked out of her whenever his hips collided with her ass. Harry stared at the jiggle in her ass cheeks, holding his palms on her. Eden sunk down through her arms more to arch out, completely pushing back against him as soft whimpers filled his ears.

“Such a good, wet cunt.” Harry praised, slowing down just a tad as he felt his heartbeat violently hammering. He pulled out even, giving his cock a break before he leaned down behind her. Spitting down between her ass cheeks, Eden’s eyes rolled back when she felt his tongue wiggling through her pussy lips.

“Oh – fuck… yes!” She moaned, “Harry – oh my god.”

His tongue was salacious, slipping down to her budding clit to give a soft suck before moving back up. When he buried his tongue between her ass cheeks, Eden violently bit her lip to keep from screaming out. He kept her nice and spread, licking over her rim and eating her out with no shame in sight. 

Spitting down once more, Harry straightened up again. His hand took a hold of his cock, which he slid between her cheeks to tap over the tight ring of muscles. Eden choked out puffs of air mixed with whimpers as she pushed back against him, “P-Please… I need it.”

“I know you do.” Harry cooed, watching his wet cock sliding against her tightest entrance, “I know, you need me so bad… You’d let me do anything, hm? So fucking greedy.” He slapped his tip against her hold and Eden buckled through her arms, near biting down her own arm to suppress her whines. Harry watched her shake and shudder as he went further, teasing with the idea of intrusion as he placed his tip against her hole and threatened to push in.

“Y-Yes, Harry… Please.” Eden deliriously begged and he hummed, “Look at that, you’d let me fuck your ass. You really want it to hurt, don’t you?”

“Uh-h-huh.” Eden stammered, tears leaking down her cheeks as she felt herself going insane in anticipation. Her arousal was running down her thighs and she couldn’t remember ever being this turned on in her life. “You think you could take me?” Harry taunted, “Baby, I’ve already destroyed your tight cunt… you wouldn’t be able to walk.”

He couldn’t believe it. Unprepped and unprotected, she’d just let him use her. All of her. He knew that if he pushed her further, she’d truly let him fuck her there. But Harry still felt a sense of responsibility and at least a sense of care. She’d truly be in pain if he did that and even if she claimed she liked it when it hurt, he wasn’t sure if she realized what she was asking for.

“Little, ruined cumslut.” He tutted, “Go on, ride me. Show me how much you need me.” He pulled away completely, laying down on his back on the deck as Eden forced her limbs to move to straddle him. Her movements were uncoordinated, amusing Harry as she trembled and sniffled. His smiled faltered when she took a hold of him, jerking him off for a few seconds before positioning him at her entrance. 

The warmth of her pussy welcomed him again, Harry tipping his head back as his toes curled and he gripped her thighs. Eden took him slowly, inch by inch as he disappeared inside of her soft, wet pussy until their thighs touched.

“D-Doesn’t even feel like you’ve ever been fucked before.” He croaked, “Not by a real man, at least.”

Eden chuckled to herself, drunk on his words as she started grinding. Tears sprung to her eyes immediately at how perfect everything felt. Her tummy jumped in excitement when he continued brushing over her spongy spot up her front wall, sitting so snugly inside of her it was like they were meant for each other.

“Shit.” She sighed, leaning her head back as her hands braced themselves on his thighs behind her. Harry couldn’t help but just stare at the erotic sight in front of him. Eden working herself on top of him, her muscles working to keep her hips rocking. Her nipples hard, her stomach flexing as she rode him slowly and deeply. She bit down on her lip to keep her moans down and he just… couldn’t look away. Not even if he wanted. He couldn’t even blink.

They had been staring at art most of the day but nothing had made him feel like this did. She was just such a sight for sore eyes. So, so fucking sexy. 

His fingers found her clit again, Eden gasping in sensitivity when she could feel him touching her. Teasing. Flicking. Playing with her. She shuddered before slowly opening her eyes. Harry was bathing in the yellow sunlight, lit up completely but his eyes were on where they touched. Eden continued rocking her pelvis into him as his fingertips toyed with her nerves.

“D-Do you want me to cum again?” She breathed, fingers digging into his thighs when her entire body tingled in delight. Harry smirked, “Fuck, yes. You want my cum so bad, hm? Need to be fucking filled like a whore. You need it so bad.”

“I n-need it so bad.” Eden confirmed in a stuttering gasp, throwing her head back as the beginnings of her orgasm started. Her hips fell out of rhythm as she trembled in pleasure, Harry holding a steady hand on her hip as his free hand continued playing her clit. 

And just like with her first orgasm, he didn’t stop once she shuddered and cried out, he kept her going. Even when Eden tried to push his hand away with her eyes screwed shut. Harry didn’t oblige, instead wrapping an arm around her torso to pull her down. Her hands braced themselves as his cock slipped from her.

“H-Harry…” Eden slurred when his fingers abandoned her clit but moved to her opening, plunging two inside of her to replace his cock. While her body was dealing with the aftermaths of her second orgasm, Harry began building the third. 

Eden’s knees could hardly keep herself up when his fingers curled, and curled, and curled to massage her swollen g-spot until she gasped and cried and begged. He stared at her intently as he played her like only he knew how to. He knew a woman’s body well and was easy at picking up signals to figure out what they wanted or how they liked it.

Eden liked it rough and she liked to be pushed, so when she writhed in discomfort of an orgasm this long wrecking her body, he didn’t let up. “C’mon.” He panted, “Give me another one, hm?” Her arousal ran over his knuckles as he licked his lip, “Make it wet. Do what you do best and soak me.”

“I-“ Eden gasped, fully dropping her face into the crook of Harry’s neck as she slumped against him. Drops of creamy arousal fell from her, wetting his hand and part of his lap as she had a wet orgasm. Her body ached and felt tired all over, and her brain felt hazy.

“Fuck, good girl.” Harry kept fucking his fingers inside of her to keep it going until Eeden fully whimpered and protested. He was slow in sliding his fingers out, bringing them to his lips to savour that sweet taste. His tongue swirled around his digits as Eden laid motionless on top of him. He felt her ragged breaths into his neck, their sweaty bodies pressed together as she was cradled up on his lap.

Harry took a moment to catch his breath before nudging her to roll around again. She thudded on her back and he saw the pink in her cheeks, the fatigue in her eyes and the bliss written all over her face. He chuckled softly while hovering over her again, using his hands to split her knees.

With a kiss to her lips, Harry guided inside her again. Eden tensed and winced, but Harry hardly cared. The pressure at the bottom of his spine overwhelmed him greatly, and he needed to cum inside of her. “Fuck.” He breathed, their lips brushing together. He held her hands again, up over her head as Eden pliantly let him slam inside of her.

It was uncomfortable and she was sore, but the look in his eyes convinced her more than ever to let him have this. He looked animalistic and desperate at the same time. Like he needed this orgasm but only with her. Like it mattered that it was her he was finishing inside of and no one else.

“Baby.” He croaked, tipping his head back with a tightly clenched jaw. His eyes screwed shut, brows knitted together in pleasure as he panted out and fucked her deep. “’M gonna fill you up so good.” He rasped.

“Uh-huh.” Eden nodded, “Please, I need it all. Need you to stuff me.”

“Holy fuck.” Harry cursed in disbelief. He tried to keep his eyes open as he sped up more, harshly thrusting into Eden and gazing into her irises. His forehead dropped on hers as his orgasm started, noses brushing together. Harry moaned shakily, tensing completely. He grabbed her hands tighter, his knuckles turning white as he curled his toes and pushed as deep inside of her as he could, “Oh my fucking god.” He whimpered, “F-Fuck.”

Eden gasped as she felt him pulsing, his orgasm spurting out of him to coat her insides in a white, sticky mess. His hair flopped over his forehead as his jaw opened and he desperately gasped, “Eden – I’m… holy fuck.” He squeaked, voice cracking as he continued coming inside of her. She could feel his release leaking down the sides of his shaft, dripping down her pussy.

The sight had aroused her so much once more, and Harry was limp on top of her as he finally finished. His cock twitched against her walls and after some nagging from Eden, Harry managed to lift his head. 

“Scoot up.” She whispered. He blinked twice, “What?”

She shot him a look, “Scoot up.” She near pushed him off and then tapped her chest, “Here.”

Harry’s legs felt weak as he slipped out of her before doing as she asked. He could hardly think straight, and even less now that he was straddling her chest and Eden got to cleaning him up. Harry bit his lip as her tongue gently ran over his softening cock. He was slick and wet in both their orgasms, and she tasted the mix of them thoroughly by giving a gentle blowjob in aftercare.

“Shit, babe… ‘s so good.” He threw his head back in a breathy moan when he felt her angling up his softened prick to lick at his base and eventually his balls. Harry felt delirious in sensitivity. It was so painful but so good and delicious at the same time. He constantly had to bite his tongue, knowing he was a second away from begging her to stop but also wanted her to continue more than anything.

And then he felt her hands on his cheeks, urging him up higher. Harry felt the stinging behind his lids at the pleasure she wanted him to receive. His tired body did as she asked, and he felt her tongue on his rim next.

“Eden…” He moaned, trembling on his knees as he hovered over her face and she ate him out. His hand lazily stroked his half-hard cock, so twitchy and red from the hard fuck he had just done. Eden hummed, pushing her tongue inside of him to eat him out. Harry whined, shaking as he sped up his hand, tugging on his own cock and angling up to give Eden room to breathe through her nose. She’d bump into his heavy balls every once in a while, also licking that part of his body.

Even after the orgasm, he was still so ready to give more. And she could feel it. Sucking his balls into her mouth, she could feel him pulsing and near grinding down onto her mouth. Harry was overstimulated and sensitive, and quickly scooted back when he felt like he’d cum again. It was near impossible and his cock felt like he was about to explode. It worried him just a touch, the touch of his own hand felt burning hot as he squeezed around his base. Eden submissively stuck out her tongue but knew Harry had no intentions on finishing in her mouth.

He came on her face again, just a few blurts of milky come painting over her face and not a single drop actually landing on her waiting tongue. Harry cried out, shaking all over as he emptied himself once more. He had never had two orgasms this close to one another, and for a moment he truly feared he was about to pass out.

Eden hummed, stroking her hands up over his chest as Harry continued hovering over her. Eventually she assisted in laying him down next to her. He breathed heavily, sprawled out completely with Eden next to him. She laid on her side, gently playing with the chest hair on his sternum to calm him down. His cock was spent and laying soft between the fern tattoos on his hips.

Both didn’t say a word until Harry thickly swallowed, “Well, that happened.”

“It did.” Eden chuckled. 

He turned his head to the side to watch her, an easy smile on her lips as she stared back at him. She had used her hand to wipe off some of his release but hadn’t been completely thorough. He suspected she just didn’t care all that much.

“Still thinking of moving back?” He checked.

Eden bit her lip to fight her smile, “Well… I don’t know. You might’ve convinced me.”

“It was the art expo, wasn’t it?” Harry teased and Eden burst out into a giggle, Harry’s heart warming at the sound. He pulled at her arm, getting her to lay her arms over his chest and lean over him a little bit. He tucked her hair behind her ear, “I promise that if you stay… I’ll fuck you like that every day.”

“Every day?” Eden huffed, “Yeah, no, I’m not surviving that.”

He smirked, “I thought you liked it rough?”

“I do, but not every single day.” She got a bit more comfortable, her fingertip tracing over his eyebrow, “If you want to fuck me every single day, you’re going to have to be a bit… slower. Gentler.”

“Gentler?”

“Mhm. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to be a gentleman.” She smiled and Harry returned it, “Just made you cum three times, I’d say I know how to be a gentleman.”

“Harry.” Eden giggled, shaking her head to himself. He chuckled along, clearing his throat, “No, I get it. I’ll be gentler, promise. In fact…” He took her arm again and rolled them over, hovering over her again, “why don’t I show you how gentle I can be?”

Eden frowned until her eyes widened, Harry lips on her chest before he shimmied down between her legs, “Harry,” She gasped, “no, I can’t.”

“Shh,” He cooed, the hold on her thighs making Eden part her legs as Harry fit his shoulders between them, “let me return the favour, yeah?”

The words were stuck in her throat, and Eden dropped down on her back when his tongue flicked through her slit. She held her breath, the mix of pain and pleasure shooting through her. And where Eden feared it’d be mostly pain, she was proven wrong. Harry was slow and soft, his tongue gently licking through her folds to lick up any of their releases.

He kissed the inside of her thighs, even softly running his wet tongue over her pained clit until pushing her thighs up a little higher to give himself more access. His tongue pushed inside her pussy, flexing and sucking to get every single drop of their mixed orgasms. He hummed with closed eyes, hearing the way Eden softly moaned. Her fingers in his hair encouraged him, and her body arched to move with the pulses of his tongue. 

When there was nothing left to clean up, Harry lifted his head with a lazy smirk, “How’s that for gentle?”

Eden laid blissed out, a lazy grin on her lips as she chuckled, “So good.” She murmured, her body lax and unable to move. Her limbs felt heavy, and Harry felt the same way, laying down next to her again. His hand found her waist, and for the rest of the afternoon there was always some contact.

Even when they jumped in the ocean for another swim, he stayed close. They teased and whispered to each other, giving gentle kisses. He squeezed her ass softly whenever she was in reach and Eden often had her arms around his neck.

They didn’t talk much, both of them just not feeling the need to. 

This was physical, and they knew it. Harry could feel something in his chest whenever she was near, but it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough at the end of the summer to ask her to stay. So he watched her leave.

For the past few weeks, they had spent a lot of time together. Harry and Eden got to know each other on a superficial level. She didn’t feel the need to share every detail about her life and he didn’t ask. Their dynamic was good, until it wasn’t. Until Harry wanted more. 

He felt something but didn’t know what it was. So it’d be unfair to ask her to stay for something he couldn’t promise or guarantee. Perhaps he only felt like he liked her because he knew she’d leave again. Perhaps if she stayed, he’d get sick of her and then he’d feel guilty.

So Eden was at his place one final time, putting her clothes on again after they had rolled around his sheets for the past hour. She zipped up her shorts and tucked her hair behind her ear, sending him a smile. Harry buttoned up his shirt again as he returned it.

Her hair was wet from the shower she just had in his bathroom. Even if they had sex multiple times a day, Eden always insisted on having a quick shower afterwards. Mostly to clean up his release as Harry always insisted in coming inside of her. After they had established a no-condom rule and Eden briefly opened up about how she was unable to carry children, he was quickly on board. 

They were only sleeping with each other and since a pregnancy scare wasn’t in the cards for them, there was no reason to deprive them of the pure pleasure of having raw sex.

And if he didn’t come inside of her, he’d come on her face or her tits. Never in her mouth. He loved it too much, watching his release drip down her body.

They were a great match, sexually, and it proved in neither of them being able to keep their hands off of one another in the past few weeks.

Eden had to admit she hardly spent time with her father over the course of the summer. She was more around Harry’s place than anything, sneaking over in the middle of the night without alerting anyone. Her father assumed she made friends somewhere, not knowing she spent most of her nights next door in the neighbour’s bed. 

Harry knew that once she left he’d still find bobby pins and parts of her scattered around his house. Her shampoo in his shower, her favourite tea in his cabinet, the dog toys she purchased for Sadie and Lola one day, her panties in his laundry. And her scent in his sheets.

She’d cuddle into Harry at night, the hot Italian air not stopping her from seeking the warmth of his body as she curled herself around him. He’d stir awake to roll around, grip her waist to tug her into his chest. And then they woke up with Eden breathing into his neck, her legs locked around his hips.

He had to admit the bed would feel big without her here.

But she was leaving. Today. Eden had been searching for jobs and finally got an offer back in London. She started in a few days and had to set some stuff up back at home, so she booked a flight. Harry could argue that she could work somewhere around here too with a degree like hers, but refrained from asking her.

His chest ached when they were at his front door. Eden closed up the final button of her top before Harry pouted in delight, batting her hands away to undo it again. She giggled as he leaned down to press a kiss to the swell of her breast, “Cancel your flight.” He mumbled into her warm skin. He pushed her against the door and dropped his hands to her ass, kneading her cheeks over the denim of her shorts.

“Harry,” Eden giggled, “I can’t.”

“You can.” He argued, brushing his nose over her collarbone before he kissed her jaw and eventually her lips. She closed her eyes, knitting her fingers in his hair as they kissed softly for a moment against his front door. Sadie and Lola were on the couch, watching the pair intently.

Harry tried to smile as they pulled back, but just couldn’t. He swallowed thickly, realizing he’d fucking miss her once she left. The lump in his throat felt tight and he didn’t know what to do besides kiss her again. Differently this time, and Eden felt it too. She was breathless and spinning as he passionately roamed his tongue around her mouth and fitted his body around hers.

He didn’t want to pull back but had to, gasping for a breath. Swallowing thickly, Harry brushed his nose against hers, “Don’t forget to text me when you land.”

Eden smiled, shaking her head, “I won’t. And I might be back sooner than you think.”

“Yeah?” There was a tinge of hope in his voice and Eden bit her lip, smiling, “Mhm. You know how close I am to my dad. And Colleen.”

He heard the teasing in his voice and breathily chuckled at her joke, “Sure. Your dad and Colleen.” He nodded.

“And the dogs. I’d miss them too much.” Eden continued.

Harry smirked and pecked her lips once more, “Anything else you’d miss?”

“I could think of a few things.” Eden whispered.

Harry smiled and stared into her eyes, “If you’re ever visiting your dad again… don’t be a stranger.”

Eden bit her lip with a smile, “What if I’m in a very committed, serious relationship by then?” She teased.

Harry chuckled, palming her ass to give a squeeze. His lips brushed hers as he smirked softly, “Bring him.”

//

sOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO do i need to write a part 2 to this orrrrrrrrrrrrr??

[titi-1188]

Always in your corner

“You know that Chan would truly always be in your corner and you hope he knows you’ll always be in his. Neither of you asked to be born to parents who had no care in the world but at least the two of you had each other.”

—

WARNINGS: Parents who don’t care(?)

PAIRING: Older Brother Chan x Younger Sibling Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1K+

EXTRA INFO: Angst(?)/comfort, Christmas, Cringy Frozen reference, Life Advice from Older Brother, ‘Baby’ used as a term on endearment in a ‘omg you’re literally a baby’ way. SAFE FOR WORK ONLY!!!

A/N: Happy Christmas to those who celebrate and in general Happy Holidays to all!! As always, sorry for any mistakes, my english writing skills are NOT the best, I try to look over it and make sure everything makes sense to an outsider perspective of someone who ISN’T in my head but yk how it can be🩷 hehe i hope u like it!!! (can u tell what kind of issues I may have…)

Every Christmas since Chan started college whenever he’d come back, you’d be there, ready to greet him with a hug and some sort of small ‘welcome home’ gift. Christmas was probably the only time in the year year you got to see each other with how busy you both were; you being in high school and Chan attending college, working his ass off to get his degree. You and your brother couldn’t even see each other during the summer holidays-your parents sent you off on exchanges to other countries, so far, you’ve been to Spain, France and Italy (twice), and your other breaks from school just never lined up. Safe to say Christmas was like a blessing. An opportunity for two siblings to reunite.

So, this year when Chan got out of your dad’s car after a very awkward three hour long ride from the airport and walked into the house and wasn’t met with you he was surprised, disappointed even.

“Where is she?”, he asked as your mother came out of the living room. She rolled her eyes as if the mere question was a bother and replied simply

“Probably moping around in her bedroom again”. Chan frowned. You? Moping around? That didn’t sound like you. “What do you mean?”, he questioned.

“Your sister is just going through an emotional phase—but honestly she needs to get over it, at her age she should be able to just get up and move through it.”, your father spoke up and Chan watched in mild disgust as your mother nodded along.

Your parents made it abundantly clear before that they never wanted kids and yet somehow ended up with the two of you because of societal pressure but at least years ago they would at least pretend to be concerned parents. Now that Chan was a young adult and moved out and you were a teenager they probably didn’t see the need to.

“I’m going to go up then”, he announces. Your parents shrug, mumbling a quick ‘do whatever’ before retreating back into the living room.

Meanwhile, Chan hauled his suitcase and bag up the stairs, dropped them off into his room (that definitely needs to be dusted down) and went to your room at the end of the hall, on the right. He smiled seeing the pink, bedazzled wooden sign on the door to your room with your name on it—he remembers watching you make it all those years ago and likes to see you haven’t taken it down yet.

In Chan’s head, you’re not just a regular set of siblings, although he only is almost seven years older than you, he always felt an almost paternal instinct with you.

He had a huge part in raising you and as much as he hates to admit it for purposes of being too sappy and cringe—he hates that you are growing up so quick. He sometimes wishes you were a kid again and often finds himself reminiscing all the tea-parties he was forced to attend, all the times he’s sat over you helping you with simple maths sums while he had an essay to do, all the extravagant games you two used to make up as something to do while your parents were working.

God he misses it. And he would pay so much money to get to relive it, because even without the regular caring parents who are involved in their child's life-watching you grow up all over again would be worth so much more.

Chan snaps out of his thoughts and regains his composure before knocking on the door gently.

“Y/N, it’s me—can I come in?”. He’s about to open the door and enter when it opens in his face, and there you are, wearing a comfy set of clothes.

Chan takes your appearance in and notices immediately that you look…not like you. The light that normally shines in your eyes is dimmed, there are bags under your eyes and your normally well kept hair is disheveled.

“Y/N…”, he starts but you cut him off with a hug.

“Channie”, you murmur in a soft voice. “I’m sorry I wasn’t ready this year.”

Oh the way you sound so defeated breaks his heart. “Y/N baby—it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“I swear I knew when dad was picking you up and I had everything planned and stuff and then I got distracted and everything I planned just went out the window-”

“Y/N. It’s fine.”, Chan reassured, pulling back from the hug but keeping a firm hold on your shoulders. “Let’s talk?”

You nod at him and let him into your room, closing the door behind him. He flops down onto your bed and pats the spot beside him. “Come on over”.

You don’t hesitate and take your spot next to your brother. Words can’t describe how grateful you are that you’re not the only child in this fucked up family and that Chan is here. Every christmas is a blessing in your eyes because he’s here, a family member who cares.

His arm wraps around your shoulder and he pulls you in closer to him, pushing your head down to rest on his chest. “There, just like when you were a baby”.

“You mean a kid?”

“Fine, just like when you were a kid”, he states again, although in his head you will always be a ‘baby’.

“Oh please, when I was a kid you were just a teenager”, you scoff but don’t make the effort to move.

“Yeah but you still clung to me like a koala, so my point still stands.”

“Okay fine..”

“You’re still clingy”, he teases, when you don’t give your usual sarcastic response he clears his throat and starts speaking in a softer, more serious tone. “Mom said you’re ’moping around’..wanna tell me about that?”

“Things have just been…utter shit”, you respond simply.

“Utter shit?”, he questions, prompting you to further explain as he starts to run his fingers through your, messy, hair.

“I just…I feel like I’m stuck in time. Everyone else around me is moving on and I’m stuck in this spot. All my friends are starting to go to all sorts of house parties and get drunk off their heads, in school they keep shoving down future career paths down our throats and in general there’s just more and more work to be done ever single day...even mom and dad are talking about having me move out soon since technically it’s legal for me to move out after I turn sixteen—but I’m just, I don’t want to do any of that. I want to just be a kid for a little longer. In my head I’m still like eleven or like twelve—I’m not ready for all of this, I don’t want to be ready for all of this!”, you start rambling, your words flowing out quickly, as if you’ve been waiting to say all of this to someone.

“I see”, Chan responds. “I think…and hear me out, I think you’re just craving a normal childhood-one where you weren’t basically left to fend for yourself.”

You nod and he feels it’s safe to continue.

“You don’t want to grow up because you already feel like you have been at a higher maturity level since you were learning your ABC’s..”.

“How do you know exactly how to put this into simple words?”

“Because I know exactly how you feel. You know, I suppose when you were born I not only had to fend for myself, but also for you—and I do not hold it against you Y/N, you are the best thing that could’ve happened to me. I think if I was an only child in this family I would’ve gone insane.” You both giggle at his words but you both know he’s right. You know especially now in his absence that living in this house by yourself is not a nurturing and caring environment.

Chan continues speaking, “So you could say that from a young age I was acting like I was in my 30’s, taking care of myself, you, teaching you life lessons while learning them myself..and when it came to actually being a grown up..I didn’t want to do it because I felt like I already have been doing it. I wanted to just be able to I don’t know…play around with fucking legos or just go to the beach and build as many sandcastles as I desire, I wanted to reverse time and somehow get our parents to care for us and give the both of us the childhood we deserve. I still want that. I still wish that there was a switch I could flip and suddenly they’ll be asking more than the ‘required’ mundane questions…but…”, he trails off with a sigh.

“…That can’t happen”, you say. “Mhm, it can’t. So, trust me when I say that I understand how you feel.”

“How did you get over it?”, you ask.

“Well..it does turn out that adult life is a bit more complicated so I had to figure that out..but to heal my inner child..I did exactly what I wanted to, I realised that because I was an adult, no one could actually stop me from building sandcastles at the beach, or spending my first entire real pay check on all the lego sets I wanted and building them all”.

“Did it help?”

“Honestly, yeah. I gave myself what our parents couldn’t..or well wouldn’t and I felt much better about myself.” He pokes your arm, laughing a bit “Just don’t spend your first entire pay check on lego. I’ll teach you how to be smarter with money.”

“I feel bad you have to teach me these things.”

“Don’t. I want to.”, Chan replies. “The only reason I didn’t completely cut contact with mom and dad after I moved out was so I could see you like this, so I could continue to parent you because..you have so much potential Y/N..and our parents don’t provide you with an environment to encourage that kind of growth, they just want you to grow up and move out so they can be at peace, but I want you to thrive. I want you to be prepared and ready for whatever life throws at you. I want to encourage you in everything. I just want to help you. Make sure you have it better than anyone else..”. Chan’s words make you feel a pang in your chest, you close your eyes and slow your breathing, feeling his heartbeat as his fingers comb through your hair.

“Obviously, since you seem to be so nervous, I’ll tune my coaching down to a slower place, we can take this one small step at a time”.

“Thank you Channie. Really.”, you reply. “Mom and dad are no help at all…like no help. They just want me out of here.”

“I know…but it’s okay, you’ll figure yourself out, you’ll figure out what you want to do with your life, in your own time and I’ll be here in your corner supporting you every step of the way and teaching you things and well…everything I already said”, Chan reassures, patting your arm.

“Now…what if…we go and build a snowman or something?”, he suggests.

“A snowman?”, you laugh and sit up, meeting his eyes.

“What? It’ll be fun! I promise!”, Chan exclaims, “Come on don’t be a loser! Just come build a snowman with me!!”

“What you need me to sing it for you??”, he clears his throat. “Do you want to build a snowman? Come on let’s go and play-“

It’s only when you start laughing he does too. God when Frozen came out you both went through a terrible phase where you were obsessed with the movie..and when the second one came out god it all came back again.

“Okay Anna—let’s go build a snowman”.

That’s how your day ends. The two of you building multiple snowmen in the green in your estate (while your parents sat inside, oblivious to what their kids are doing). And honestly, you wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

You know that Chan would truly always be in your corner and you hope he knows you’ll always be in his. Neither of you asked to be born to parents who had no care in the world but at least the two of you had each other.

a/n: hope you liked this! i had to rush the ending a bit because I wanted it to be done by at least Christmas day so apologies!!!

p.s: if you have any reqs, feel free to ask!! just keep it sfw!!!

[amourkive]

EXPEDITION| MYG

a/n: erm....hit a writers block with this one NGL...and I feel like I made it too long at the end. Also added Jungkook bc of the circumstances of the fic lol, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless !! Stay Gold⁷ -miri

masterlist

/ᐠ• ㅅ •ᐟ\

"Hey, you ready?" Yoongi asked, leaning against his car, hands cradled in the warmth of his hoodie pocket. You had just walked out the house, eyes squinting at the assaulting brightness that your house lacked a few minutes prior.

With a single nod, you dragged your suitcase down the driveway of your house, hauling it into the trunk, as you pushed yoongi away to start the car; it was cold and you didn't care for a "gentleman's gesture" at this moment.

"I'm so tired! I should have chosen a later time to leave." You buckled your seatbelt with a whine as Yoongi let out an amused snort, putting the car in drive, slowly leaving the side of the street.

"that's why I'm here...so you don't have to drive yourself, just close your eyes, I'll wake you up when we arrive at the airport, okay? Let Min Yoongi handle this." He stated, pulling a blanket from the backseat, over your lap.

"....okay, min yoongi. I'm trusting you." you muttered, poking the side of his arm, and with that you lowered the seat, covered yourself better, and went back to dreamland.

"Hey, uhm, baby?..." You heard, and you couldn't tell if it was from your dream or not. "baby..." you heard again, and realized it was yoongi. Which, was alarming.

He only ever called you baby in two conditions:

1. when he really wanted you to do something

2.when he does something that he knows is going to upset you so he tries using the baby card

You opened your eyes, face to face with a sheepish looking yoongi, who had his lip in between his teeth. "you called me baby, what did you do." and he put his head down, with a sigh.

"it wasn't my fault! totally out of my control!" he defended himself immediately, pulling away from you, placing his hands on the steering wheel, "the car broke down." he muttered, and you sighed, leaning back into the seat.

of course it did.

Before you could say anything, Yoongi was already next to you again, head on your shoulder, and you knew he felt bad. "you know how the battery gets when it's winter....i should have asked Hyung for his car like you said, and I'm sorry about that, but- then what would be the point in having our car? I thought it would at least make it to the airp-"

"gigi...nicest way possible, shut up." you spoke softly, placing your hand on his cheek, rubbing it comfortingly. "you didn't know it was gonna break down at this moment...did you call anyone?"

you feel him nod his head, with a sigh, "yeah I called a tow company, and Jungkook-he's the closest so he said he'll take you. I'll have to wait for them here." Even though you figured that much, you still frowned hearing it out loud. Yoongi wasn't going to see you off back home.

"well come on...it's cold, and I'm still tired." you sat up, him moving away from you in the process, watching as you, quite difficulty, went to the back seats, with the blanket. You turned to face him, as he sat in his seat, and rolled your eyes.

"I want cuddles, gigi. C'mon~ before I leave, please?" you griped, holding your arms open, for him. (he was going to whether you asked or not, but he liked the extra effort)

once he made it to the back, like a koala to a tree, you clung to him right in-between his legs, his warmth stopping the cold that lingered. Sighing with satisfaction, you leaned into him more, as he ran his fingers through your hair. It was like you forgot the car broke down and you had to make it to the airport in less than an hour.

"how long are you staying at your parents, baby?" he asked, him trying to keep conversation for he felt a little drowsy now himself. "just a month...maybe less, depending." weakly shrugging, turning to face him,

"are you gonna miss me?" and really, him laughing was not the answer you expected. "of course I'm going to miss you. who else is gonna bother me-" "hey!" "sorry not bother, keep me company! who's gonna keep me company?"

You smiled, "Jungkook."

yoongi tsked, shaking his head, "yeah right. more like he'd keep me up more than I already do." "no, baby, Jungkook's right there." In a swift motion, yoongi turned his head to see Jungkook drawing hearts around his head, and he had to force himself to not roll his eyes.

"oh, yay, how nice of him to arrive." he muttered sarcastically, patting the side of your leg, for you to get up, so he can get out and help.

"hello you two lovebirds! having fun ? I bet you were~" with a smack to the head, he pouted, crossing his arms. "I was just kidding! gosh, can't take jokes anymore? what a loser."

At this point, Jungkook was talking to himself, because yoongi had all his focus on you, clambering out of the backseat, and right into his arms.

"can't Jungkook stay with the car, and you take me? no offense kook-" "none taken, really." "-i just...I really wanted you to be there when I left."

Yoongi pursed his lips, looking down at you, wishing he could. "you know I would if I could...but they're gonna need me for the information. I'm sorry, baby."

you nodded, understandingly, because once again, you knew that. But still the circumstances sucked. "it's okay, I give good hugs too hyung." Jungkook added, with a shrug which made you laugh a little. He was trying to lighten the mood, but you don't think yoongi appreciated it.

"you want to get smacked upside the head a couple more times don't you?" he asked, looking over towards Jungkook, his grip tightening on you. "be nice, gigi... he's only trying to be nice. Plus-" you look down at your phone that you pulled out from your pocket, "I should be going now."

yoongi sighed, "how about I just take you instead? Jungkook give me your keys, I'll be back before they even come." jungkook shook his head, "not possible! it's a 30 minute drive there and back! that's more than an hour! I highly doubt you'll be back before they come."

You nodded in agreement, "he has a point, yoongi. Just do what needs to be done." he frowned, "but if we go now-" "Sorry to interrupt but any of you Min Yoongi?" With a look towards you, Yoongi nodded, walking up to the guy, "yeah. that's me. Just- can you give me a minute?"

Once the guy nodded, Yoongi turned back to you, grabbing your face in his hands. "I'll miss you." You nodded, grabbing onto his sweatshirt, "I'll miss you too...I'll call you when I make it there." He smiled, "I know you will...please be careful. If anything happens to you I will-"

"-be on the first plane to me." you laughed, "I know. you say it all the time. I'll be careful, you know, all that good stuff. So, don't worry so much."

"augh, my sweet girl has to leave, what will I do for the next month?" Yoongi muttered, leaning down placing a kiss on your nose, before placing two on your cheeks. You smiled, relishing in his kisses, giggling as he placed one on your lips.

"you won't have to worry about her leaving if you guys don't finish this goodbye. Sorry to ruin this cute moment of course-" "we were getting there, Jungkook! Read the room sometimes man, just go before I might actually keep her here." Yoongi whined, letting you go with one last kiss.

As you walked with Jungkook to his car, Yoongi kept his eyes on you, until you disappeared in the car. As Jungkook drove past, you blew yoongi a kiss, smiling as he pretended to put it in his pocket, finally turning to face the tow guy.

You sat back in your seat, smiling softly. A month. Then you'll be able to give Yoongi all the kisses you wanted.

[tracingpatternswrites]

Married at first sight - Moving in together

(Start from the beginning)

This week our couples leave their dreamy honeymoons behind and return to reality. They have had the chance to decide where to live, but is it more of a challenge to move in with a stranger or to let a stranger into your home? Seeing how someone lives can tell you a lot about a person, and sometimes it can even make you reconsider what you think you know about them. All in this week’s episode of Married at First Sight.

Read on AO3.

Snippet below the cut.

“Welcome home.”

Sirius grinned as he opened the door with a flourish, making an exaggerated sort of bow as he held it open for Remus to step through. Remus did, but he stopped almost immediately on the other side of the threshold and Sirius had to nudge him out of the way so that he could enter too.

He pushed both of their suitcases to one side to give them a bit more room even though it was hardly needed. Remus was still looking around and his face looked strangely blank. Sirius felt a flutter of nerves in his chest as he too looked around the spacious hallway, as if seeing it for the first time.

The house was nothing special, but it was his place and he was very fond of it. He had worked hard to get it just the way he wanted it, a far cry from the stifling house where he had grown up. The rooms were light and airy and, yes, perhaps it was a bit on the big side for just him. It wasn’t outrageous though, and in comparison to the house where he had grown up, it would be considered modest.

“Leave the bag,” he told Remus. “I’ll bring it upstairs for you later, but I’ll give you the tour now if you want?”

“Is there time before they get here?” asked Remus and Sirius threw a glance at his watch.

“We should be okay, just–“ he was cut off as there was a knock at the door and Sirius pulled a face. “Never mind.”

Remus chuckled lowly as he stepped out of the way enough for Sirius to open the door. Marlene grinned widely at them as soon as she caught sight of them both.

“Hello,” she greeted cheerfully as she stepped into the house, pulling Sirius in for an enthusiastic hug. “This place is fucking amazing, it’s absolutely huge . Looks like you hit the jackpot, Remus.”

Marlene winked at Remus before pulling him in for a hug as well, and Sirius gave an awkward laugh. He glanced at Remus briefly but the other man kept his eyes on Marlene, smiling politely. 

“Sure seems like it, doesn’t it,” he replied neutrally.

A man was hovering on the doorstep behind Marlene, someone that Sirius didn’t recognise but Marlene quickly introduced as Matt when she realised they hadn’t met before. Sirius gestured for them to come inside, grateful for the large hallway as they squeezed through with all their equipment.

“You two want a cuppa?” he asked but Marlene shook her head.

“Nah, we’re alright, we don’t have long so we better get started. I thought we’d start with filming a little tour and then I’ll have a chat with each of you in private. That alright?”

“Uh, sure,” Sirius said, glancing over at Remus who nodded.

“Just act natural,” Marlene said brightly, turning to Matt who hauled his camera up. “At least this place is big enough that we won’t be falling over ourselves. Some people live in the tiniest places and they’re a nightmare to film in.”

“Er, right,” Sirius mumbled, glancing at Remus but he looked mostly amused as he watched Marlene.

“Yeah, I think this’ll do,” Matt said, adjusting the hold he had on the camera. “We just need to get you mic’d up.”

“Right, that’s my job,” Marlene beamed, pulling her hair into a bun at the top of her head before diving into the bag she’d dropped right inside the door.

It only took a few moments to get everything up and running, but Sirius was still feeling increasingly more uncomfortable. He did his best to hide it though, and he tried not to let his discomfort show too much. Remus sent him a small smile over the top of Marlene’s head as she fitted the microphone on him, and Sirius felt something unclench in his chest as he gave a wobbly smile in return.

“Off you go,” Marlene said brightly, giving Sirius a slightly nudge that felt unnecessarily sharp. “Just act as if we’re not here.”

“That should be easy,” mumbled Sirius under his breath, but he felt something warm flare in his chest as Remus snorted a laugh next to him. He took a deep breath, turning towards Remus with a slightly forced smile. “Welcome home, I guess. D’you want a tour of the place before you unpack?”

“Sure, that would be perfect,” Remus replied with a small conspiratorial smile, as if they were sharing a secret joke, and Sirius’ heart did a little stutter in his chest. Remus brushed against the back of his hand lightly, settling at the small of his back. It was warm and comforting, grounding. “Lead the way, I’m right behind you.”

Continue on AO3.

[maramontwrites]

The Briefcase

Stealing at an airport is easier than you’d expect. Everyone has valuable stuff with them, most people are too tired to really pay attention to their surroundings, and they’re usually busy guarding their passport and boarding pass to realise their suitcase has just been switched with an decoy filled up with rocks. At least until it is too late and I’m already on a different plane halfway across the world.

This one had been even easier. An important looking gentleman in an expensive black suit was standing next to some benches, his briefcase balanced against the seat behind him, as he stared out into the hall, his eyes on everything except his luggage. He had actually seen me before I saw him, and the daunting feeling his gaze gave me when it fell on me almost made me reconsider, but he made himself too easy of a target for me to ignore. I didn’t even need a decoy, I just scooped up the bag and walked away. He didn’t look in my direction even once.

My plane was departing in only half an hour, but I quickly sneaked into a bathroom to check out my newest acquisition. I was hoping for some money, an expensive laptop, or company secrets I could blackmail people with. Whenever I stole from guys like him, it was always something good, even if it just seemed like useless papers. Even better, since papers are easier to get through security than loose money.

Instead, when I clicked open the briefcase, I was greeted by a loud wailing sound. I quickly snapped it shut, listening for any signs of people in the stalls next to me who could’ve heard that, but apart from my own heartbeat, the room was completely quiet. I calmed myself down by rationalizing that it was just an anti-theft alarm, which was not something I hadn’t dealt with before. Even though that wailing had not sounded like any alarm I’ve ever encountered.

I carefully shook the briefcase, hoping a rattling or rustling would still tell me its contents, but as far as I could hear, there was nothing in it. I felt like an idiot shaking it around like that, and I decided to just forget about the contents for now and focus on catching my plane, as I wouldn’t be able to find out what was in it if the guy who it belonged to would see me while I was waiting for the next plane. I walked out of that bathroom to my gate with confidence, both to act like I was someone who would carry such a briefcase around and because I knew I would have a good haul, even if I hadn’t yet figured out what that haul was exactly.

Nine hours later I landed at my destination, which means I was hopefully at least nine hours away from the original owner of my stolen goods. Security posed no problem; they barely even looked at me as I walked out of the airport. I had spent nine hours fantasizing, and I came to the conclusion that it must be even better than I had expected if someone had bothered to put such an alarm on a briefcase. I was already walking the halls of my hotel, eager with anticipation to see what it was I had gained that day, when a voice stopped me, the sound sending chills down my spine.

“Would you mind returning my property, please?”

I turned around to see the same man I had seen at the airport hours before, immediately recognizing his creepy eyes.

“I… Uhm… I don’t…” I stuttered, not sure whether to deny it even though I was holding the briefcase, or to just give it back and hope he wouldn’t call the cops. “How did you even get here?!” I eventually settled on. He had not been on the plane with me, I had made sure of that. It was physically impossible for him to stand before me, and yet there he was.

The man smiled, holding out his hand towards the briefcase. “I have my ways. Now, I believe that is mine and I would like it back, please.”

I instinctively handed it to him, feeling like I didn’t have another option. I had never met anyone who had been this polite about being robbed.

“That’s better. Souls should not be in the possession of a mortal anyway, you’re lucky this did not end up any worse.” The man smiled again, before turning around and walking away, his feet not leaving any footsteps on the soft carpet.

“Souls? What do you mean souls?!” I called after him, but he had disappeared into thin air after taking only two steps. I was left alone in that hallway, telling myself not to steal a briefcase like that ever again. I would just stick to suitcases.

[doctorcorby]

In Justice We Trust (76501 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

With Simon Blackquill and Athena Cykes assigned as their psychologists, the Phantom and Fulbright must grapple with their identity, their deeds, their future, and their love for the twisted samurai whom they betrayed.

All the while, Edgeworth and Wright find their relationship tested as they walk the narrow path between pursuing real justice, and the dark age of the law.

-

December 24, 8:50 pm

14 hours in an airplane was a tiring flight, no matter how excited you were to watch your rockstar bestie film a commercial, and by the time Trucy and the gang shuffled out to go pick up their luggage, even she and Pearl were dragging.

Pearl stumbled, and caught herself on Trucy's shoulder, giving her an exhausted smile. "Oops! sorry about that."

“Oop!” Trucy caught herself from stumbling too, flashing a bright smile at her as she managed to keep them both from toppling over. She yawned. “Don’t worry about it! I’ve never been on a plane like that before. It felt like we were flying forever.” 

"Right? And Mr. Nick and Mr. Miles were like, mostly asleep the whole time," Pearl giggled, straightening up a bit in Trucy's arms. "I'm glad we at least got to chat with Kay! Do you think she'll be too busy to go see Klavier with us?"

Trucy put a gloved hand to her lips, her arms around Pearl’s shoulders as they shuffled along. “It was nice to talk to Kay. I’d been wanting to get that pickpocketing secret from her for like, years. Maybe we can ask her? I hope not, I think she’d be over the moon to see it instead of whatever Mr. Edgeworth wants her to do.” 

"Same," Pearl nodded. She chewed on her thumb as they waited by the baggage claim for their suitcases to appear. She dropped her voice low. "Whatever it is, they sure aren't excited to tell us about it, huh?"

“Nope…I tried asking Daddy and he went white as a sheet and told me it wasn’t something to worry about." She sniffed in quiet frustration as she watched the baggage belt roll past “which usually means it really is.” 

"For real!" Pearl nodded. "Mr. Nick always tries to handle all his problems himself. That's why we always have to butt in and help him, right?"

“Exactly! Just like always, yeah? Because who’s gonna help him if we don’t?” She shook her head. “He really should have learned by now that the more he tries to leave us out, the more we get involved, right?” 

"He really should have," Pearl nodded, and continued to chew thoughtfully on her nail. "But um, we'll do that after we go see Klavier, right?”

“Well yeah!” Trucy gave her a squeeze, her hat slipping down her forehead. “Like heck I’m gonna miss his show after he invited us all the way out here! He’d probably cry from a lack of Trucy and Pearl gracing his stage.” 

"I bet he would! And that would be awful!" 

"Hey ladies!" A voice greeted them from behind. "Need a hand with your suitcases?"

“EEEK!” Trucy jumped, her had leaping a full inch over her head before plopping back down on her brow 

"Whoa, whoa, sorry!" Apollo Justice held out his hands apologetically as they both turned around to see him. "I didn't mean to scare you!"

"Well, um, you did!" Pearl pouted. "Gosh make some noise next time…"

Trucy stuck her tongue out. 

“Polly, you usually boom everywhere with that voice of yours!” She pointed to him with a grin. “for that you get to carry my bag for me! And Pearly’s too!”

Apollo blinked at her, and pushed his hair back. 

"Trucy, I just offered to.-- you know what, never mind. You got it." He laughed and grabbed both their suitcases as they came down the track. "I don't have one to carry right now anyway."

“Really?” Trucy gasped in surprise. “...why didn’t you pack anything, Polly? You’re gonna worry Klavier!” 

"No, no, I packed," he explained, hauling the cases across the airport floor as he looked around for Trucy's dad and the rest. "Well– okay technically Athena packed for me. I didn't have any time, so, she's got my suitcase… I hope."

Pearl giggled behind her hands, but Trucy noticed she was watching Apollo carefully. "Gosh, Apollo! Kind of scatterbrained, aren't you?"

"Sorry to disappoint you Miss Pearl."

Pearl meanwhile, glanced significantly over at Trucy, and Trucy remembered what they'd talked about the night before.

Trucy nodded seriously at her, before she put on her best and brightest smile. 

“Hey, Apollo…I wanted to ask you something when you got a moment for your favorite little employer.” 

"Huh?" He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Um, sure, of course Trucy. Maybe when we're settled at the hotel?"

As Trucy looked at him, she thought, maybe it was a trick of the light but his eyes, and his hair looked darker than usual.

“Hmm…” Trucy’s strange eyes stared him down for a long moment before she broke into a bright smile. “yeah that sounds great!”

December 24, 9:20 pm

At the hotel, Trucy and Pearl hurriedly got comfortable in their room together. They laid out their things, brushed their teeth, checked the channels on the hotel's tv, and giggled with excitement about going to see Klavier the next day.

Soon, Pearl said, "I'm gonna take a shower if you don't mind, Trucy. Are you still planning to talk to Apollo tonight?"

“Of course!” Trucy replied as she leaned up and stretched, using the motion to ease herself to her feet. “I think I’m gonna ask him about the ghost thing…when you channel someone you can see it, right? At least a little.”

"With the Kurain technique of channeling your whole body transforms," she murmured thoughtfully. "I don't know exactly how it works for other types of channeling or possession, but i think you can see it at least a little.."

“I think I saw some of it. Apollo didn’t look…exactly himself.” she murmured to Pearl. “I think it was his friend.” 

"I thought that might be the case. Um, Trucy?"

Trucy leaned in with a tilt of her hat as she placed it upon her head .“Yeah Pearly?” 

"Be careful, okay? If Apollo doesn't want to talk about it, maybe don't push too much? Um, I don't know him too well, and I didn't know the ghost that's hanging on to him at all– I'm sure he was a nice person, but…" Pearl trailed off nervously.

“But you don’t want me to be ghost murdered?” Trucy said with a serious nod “...I get it. Ghosts can be kinda touchy, right?” 

She nodded seriously. "Exactly. Ghosts don't always react like living people, especially if they're not being channeled by someone with experience, or if they don't know they're dead and you make them think about it. They can get um, I think the word I've heard used is 'erratic'."

Trucy shivered as the ‘worst case scenarios’ flashed through her mind. Still, she bonked herself atop the head with a broad grin.

 “I promise, Pearly. The minute he starts getting too weird or makes a sudden move, I’ll bonk him with Mr. Hat and make a run for it.”

December 24, 9:30 pm

Apollo was staying in the same room as her Daddy, but she was pretty sure that Daddy was with Mr. Edgeworth in his room, talking about whatever it was she wasn't supposed to know about. Probably a murder. It was usually murder.

Anyway, that meant she was reasonably confident that Apollo would be alone– or as alone as possible given the circumstances– when she knocked on the door, and as luck would have it, she was right.

He popped his head out the door, wisps of unruly hair flopping over his face.

"Hey, Truce!"

“Hel-lo Apo-llo” she sounded out the words with a playful grin, leaning in with a flutter of her cape. “Got some time for your favorite boss?” 

"Did my favorite boss send you to ask that?" he teased. "Assuming you mean you– come on in."

“Uh huh.” She stuck her tongue out at him, before she slipped inside. “You haven’t been around as much lately. I’ve missed you!” 

Apollo's hotel room was already a mess with Trucy's daddy's things– she saw one of his blue suits laid out over the chair. Apollo stood awkwardly by the desk, and smiled over at her.

"I've missed you too. But it's been quite a week, huh?"

“It’s been crazy.” Trucy agreed, tucking her dark hair over her ear as she shut the door behind her. “I didn’t expect to be traveling halfway across the world so soon!” 

"Yeah, tell me about it," Apollo said. He shook his head. "I didn't know until this morning. Feel like I've hardly had a chance to catch my breath."

“Yeah? I know I’m coming to see Klavier~” she mused as she plopped herself up on the table beside him. “Daddy’s also here but he won’t tell me why. Typical. Like he thinks he can actually keep secrets from me.” 

"He didn't tell you?" Apollo raised his eyebrows. "So, wait– you didn't think I was coming to see Klavier too, did you?"

Trucy leaned towards him with a shake of her head. 

“I’d kinda hoped! But I figured you were here with Daddy…which means you know what’s goin’ on.” She pointed her finger at him. “I wanna know, a secret for a secret, okay?” 

He crossed his arms, leaning against the desk. "What do you mean, a secret for a secret?"

“I mean I’ll tell you a secret we noticed in exchange for what Daddy’s doing here, Apollo!” 

"I mean, your dad's not going to be happy with me if I tell on him– although I can't imagine it staying a secret for too long with everybody here," he muttered. "...is your secret a good one?"

“It involves you?” Trucy offered with a bright smile. 

"It involves me," he repeated, narrowing his eyes. He sighed heavily, and Trucy watched him fidget with his tie, loosening it. "Alright. Fine."

Trucy snuck closer to him, inching over the top of the table with a huge grin. “you first.” 

"Okay," he pulled his tie open, leaving it hanging over his vest. Trucy thought she saw his appearance seem to shimmer strangely as he stood there, a far away expression in his face. "You probably guessed it's for a case. Some interpol agents were killed, and Edgeworth wants us to look into it."

Trucy nodded sagely. She took off her hat, and left it on her lap as she hummed.

“Yikes. Sounds like it’s kinda a big deal if Mr. Edgy is getting involved too. So that’s why Daddy’s being secretive about it.” She tilted her head at him. “...Innnteresting. Alright, as payment...about the thing I wanted to tell you…” 

"I'm listening," he nodded, his dark gaze flicked toward her.

“We’re secretly brother and sister,” she lied with a wicked grin. 

He snorted, and she watched his shoulders jerk in surprise. 

"What?" He rubbed his bracelet–it must have pinched him– and looked at her with one eye open, "Trucy, it's not funny to lie about that kind of thing."

She laughed, kicking her feet with an innocent grin on her face before she bopped the top of her head with her tongue out.

“Sorrrryyyy. I was just kidding around! Sorry…but the real thing is ah..” she bit her lip. “Pearly said she saw a ghost in you. Like…you’re possessed.” 

His chin jerked up, and his dark gaze fixed on her again. She watched him rub his bracelet again, this time with a different frown written across his face.

"Can you say that again?"

“Pearl says she can see another spirit in you.” Trucy tilted her head to the side, as her hand reached back to rest on Mr. Hat’s mechanism, just in case. “She’s a spirit medium, you know? And I’ll be honest…I’ve kinda noticed too. Sometimes you look just a little different…and act different too.” 

He looked away still rubbing his bracelet. He had to know that she wasn't lying.

"Pearl shouldn't make jokes like that."

“It’s not a lie,” Trucy said slowly, “or a joke. Pearl wouldn’t joke about that kinda thing, Polly. I know I can joke around a lot, but I’m being serious when I say I noticed it too…and Pearl super did.” 

"I don't want to say anything unkind about Pearl, but I think maybe she's just got an active imagination, and wrapped you up in it, Trucy." Apollo had crossed his arms tightly and protectively over his chest. "I know Pearl was raised to believe in ghosts, but is that something you really believe in, Trucy?"

She stared at him incredulously. “I’ve got eyes that can tell when someone’s lying, and a family of magicians. Plus, Daddy says his old legal assistant Maya used to summon her dead sister into her body all the time to give him pep talks and stuff.” 

"Trucy, not to be negative, but 'eyes that see someone lying' is more like weaponized anxiety than anything else. And I know what Mr. Wright says but– I'm serious, Trucy, do you really actually believe in ghosts? You're not 12 you know."

Trucy felt a sting of irritation, causing her to pout as she leaned back on the table. 

“Yeah, no shit, Polly. But I’m saying stranger things happen every day…and Pearly says she can see and channel ghosts and I believe her. Did you know?” She pointed to him. “You’re a lawyer, so you super should. The existence of ghosts is a legal fact, dummy. It was proven in court like, 8 or so years ago. They had an exorcism on live tv! Daddy’s nasty ex girlfriend, everyone saw it!” 

Trucy knew that Apollo must have seen it too– after all, Apollo had hero worshiped her daddy for a long time. That was what he had said, that Phoenix Wright had helped him want to become a lawyer.

"Just because it was accepted as evidence in court doesn't mean it must have been real," he murmured bitterly. "Trucy– I don't want to fight with you. I don't want to make you upset but I– I lost someone really close to me recently, you know? You can't just say things to me like ghosts are real and not expect me to be upset."

Trucy grimaced, looking down with a slight flush of guilt. She gripped her wrist, glancing up at him with her focused eyes.

“I..I know, Apollo. I know you’re hurting, a lot. Trust me.” She shrugged her shoulders gently “I’ve lost a lot of people, too. But…you seem different. Really different, sometimes…maybe I’m a little worried that you don’t think you can trust me to talk about it….or I dunno. You’re going to start getting distant…or whoever’s in there with you will.” 

"Trucy," he repeated. He looked at her with absolutely heartbroken, exhausted eyes. "Trucy, I know the last time you lost someone you were really young. But I am grieving, okay? You have to understand that I am going to be different because I'm seriously– I'm seriously messed up about this."

He put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her with a dark, haunted expression. "I'm not going to tell you I haven't been different. I have– I know I have. Even after I made up with Athena. But grief does that, Trucy. Grief can make you somebody else for a while. I can't– I have to– I have to work really hard to get over this big part of my life that's just been torn out of the world forever."

Apollo's voice hitched and broke. His fingers dug into her shoulders. "I have to, okay? I have to work through this, and get over it. I have to. You can't come in here and tell me that when I hear his voice in my head that's real, that that's really him. That's not– that's not healthy, Truce."

His big, haunted dark eyes looked terrified, and were beaded with tears.

Trucy winced under his hands. It wasn’t exactly true that the last time she’d lost someone she cared for was when she was young. She’d seen pictures of her father’s corpse far more recently than that, and pushed herself to smile through the trial, forged evidence and all.

It wasn’t like she forgot what grief felt like, or how badly the gaping hole a loss left could sting.. But she couldn’t help but think that maybe knowing they were there, with you still, was a comfort rather than something unhealthy and hurtful. She liked to imagine Zak Gramarye there in the crowd at every show, clapping proudly as she performed quite literally in his name.

But it was clearly hurting Apollo to even imagine the possibility. She hiccuped, her shoulders shaking.

“S-sorry Polly,” she managed to say, “I just t-thought, you know…it’d be nice if you k-knew it wasn’t forever.” 

His fingers dug into her shoulders for another moment, and then he pulled her into a tight hug. She heard him make a choked noise as he held her, and she felt his body shudder.

"Sor–sorry, Trucy," he murmured, holding her tight. "Sorry to be such a bastard about it I just– I can't. I don't know how I'd– sorry."

Trucy rubbed his back, feeling even guiltier. 

“You’re not a bastard…Pearl was worried about me sayin’ something. I should have thought a little more before I …y-you know…said anything.”

If there was a ghost inside Apollo…it wasn’t erratic…it was hurting. 

Apollo swallowed so thickly that Trucy could hear it, and he didn't let go of her, just nodding against her shoulder.

"Can I… can I tell you something, Trucy? Without you thinking less of me?" he murmured.

Trucy nodded against him, holding him tight. “Of course..we both say all kinds of stuff all the time. Nothing you tell me’s gonna make me think less of you, okay?” 

He took a breath, rough and raspy, still just holding her, face buried in her shoulder. "Clay wasn't just– he wasn't just my f-friend, Trucy. He was– we were– we were together romantically, y-you know what I mean? Like dating…"

Trucy’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. 

That explained a lot, honestly.

“Oh. Oh Apollo…” she bit her lip “I’m sorry…I didn’t know you guys were dating, I didn’t…” She felt even guiltier. This had all been a big mistake. “He seemed like a really great guy.” 

He squeezed her again, and she could hear his embarrassment when he said, "it wasn't exactly the kind of thing you talk about at work, you know."

It wasn't exactly something you talked about at work. Her daddy and Mr. Edgeworth didn't talk about it. She hadn't even known for sure that they were together until a little more than a year ago, when she'd been sat down for a 'serious talk'.

It wasn't that it was something illegal, or that it was wrong, per se, but it just… wasn't talked about. It wasn't respected. Certain people wouldn't take you seriously if you 'weren't the marrying type'. It had just always been that way.

Trucy remembered that it had come up at the trial about Aura, and everyone got embarrassed and tried to dance around the subject.

It made sense why Apollo wouldn’t have told her, no matter how absolutely ridiculous she felt the social ‘norm’ was. She knew the way her own heart tended to lean, without heed to the arbitrary line of ‘gender’...and her own attractions.

It just wasn’t something talked about– and Apollo was suffering alone because of it.

“I know what you mean ..but you can talk about that with me. I understand it.” She squeezed him tighter, “I’m sorry, Polly. I’m sorry you lost your boyfriend, and I’m sorry I pushed you on it.” 

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and squeezed her again, sniffling. "Thanks, Trucy. I appreciate you understanding…"

“Of course I understand,” she murmured against him, doing all she could to hug him as comfortingly as she could manage. “You can talk about anything with me, okay Polly? Anything.”

He nodded against her, holding her for another minute. Then he took a breath and a step back, arms still on her shoulders.

"Thanks… I'm sorry I snapped at you. I've been barely holding it together this whole week…"

Trucy rubbed at her eyes with one hand, shaking her head. “It’s been a really hard week for you guys…don’t be sorry okay? I pushed a little too hard.”

Apollo squeezed her shoulders more gently this time. "It's okay. I know you just wanted to help."

She smiled at him , her big and bright showstopper of a smile that won hearts at the Wunder Bar. “Because you’re important to me, dork.” 

He grabbed the rim of her top hat and pulled it down over her eyes gently. "You too, Truce. Even if I'm kinda shit at showing it right now."

“Wah!!!” Trucy bopped the rim of her hat to knock it back up with a puff of her cheeks. “You’ll get better. Just gotta retrain you on Trucy Wrangling, I guess. Just don’t let yourself fall too deep in your own head.” 

She shrugged her shoulders gently.

"I'll do my best," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets and standing awkwardly in front of her. "So… h-hey…"

Trucy tilted her head to the side. “yeah Apollo?” 

"If Pearls thinks I have a…" he shifted uncomfortably as he spoke, and she watched him clench his hands in his pockets, "ghost attached to me… what did she want me to do about it? Did she want to.. I don't know, perform an exorcism?"

“No! Of course not!” Trucy put her hand to her lips with a gasp. “No way! She just noticed it and I thought it might…help. To know. You know?”

"So she just wanted to… bring it to my attention, then?" he asked, raising his chin curiously.

“I mean yeah? She didn’t exactly grab my shoulders and go TRUCY WE GOTTA EXORCISE THAT GUY. More like she just pointed it out and I had to agree?” 

He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled, his face tearstained and rough. "Well, that's a relief. Here I was worried I'd have to dodge her coming around the corner with spirit charms."

Trucy leaned forward and wiped away some of his tears with her gloved fingers. “Nah, Pearly’s not that kinda girl. She’s nice.” 

"Well yeah of course she is. But if she thinks I'm possessed or something she might be convinced the nice thing to do is help me whether i want it or not, right?" He rubbed his face again, and then started to root around the desk for a box of tissues.

“I think she’d probably ask first, Polly.” She wiggled her feet nervously. “Don’t worry. Nobody’s gonna try to kick whatever ghost you totally don’t have with you out. Promise.” 

"Alright," he nodded. She watched him wipe his teary face with a tissue. "Frankly, because I think the stress of it might kill me, not because I have a ghost possessing me, understand?"

He gave her a wry smile, but his voice was firm.

Still, Trucy wasn't sure whether he believed it or not.

“Of course!” She flashed her smile again. “We wouldn’t want to add to the ‘are ghosts real’ question by having YOURS around too after you have a coronary.” 

"Yeah," he chuckled, rough and pained. "One ghost is too many, but two would be complete anarchy."

December 24, 10:15 pm

Pearl was carefully combing out her long, long, long hair after her shower when Trucy returned to the room after talking to Apollo. She'd only seen it down a few times before– it had to be all the way to her knees, if not her ankles.

"How'd it go?" Pearl asked softly, looking up at her as the door closed.

“Preeeetty bad.” Trucy took off her top hat with the same weighty sigh as her father taking off his tie after a bad day in the courtroom. 

"Oooooogh…" Pearl put a hand over her mouth as she frowned. "Nobody's hurt, right?"

“No, nobody got hurt.” Trucy shook her head with a sigh as she plopped herself down next to her, before letting herself fall back against the bed with an ‘oof’. “But he got really upset…told me that it’s not real, and it can’t be…and then got really really nervous that you were gonna try to exorcize the ghost.” 

She chewed on her thumb gently. "I was kinda worried about that… we'd better keep an eye on him."

[the1975attheirverybest]

Winte(ring)

A/N: for @abiiors 12 days of Christmas prompts. Sorry I’ve abruptly abandoned them. IM SORRY ITS SO SHORT I CANT WRITE FLUFF OKAY.

Inspired by my first winter away from home during the 2014 snowmageddon in Boston. If you know you know. Let me know what you think!!

Prompt: Snowed In

Warnings: nah.

———

“Darling, please! Put that down!” Matty trailed after his girlfriend as she dashed around their rented cabin, gathering her belongings and stuffing them into her suitcase.

“I promised Denise-“

“I promise you that my mum does NOT want you to drive in the middle of a snowstorm just to be there for presents. She’ll understand.” Matty squeezed her shoulder urgently.

“If you wanna stay here all alone, then, suit yourself. But I’m leaving.” With that, she hauled one of the bags over her shoulder, turning doorknob open.

“Are you mad? You think I’m going to let you drive in the middle of-“ Matty stepped outside in his slippers, nearly slipping at the doorstep. “Jesus fuckin Christ!” He gasped when he saw the giant icicle looming down from the dam on the roof, ominously, threatening to break off at any moment and stab them.

“Come with me, then! Get dressed and let’s go before snowfall resumes. It’d be much safer if we could make it back before dark.”

Matty knew that was the logical thing to do, but that wasn’t the plan. THE plan. The one that he’d booked this cabin trip specifically to carry out. “But I’m- I’m sleepy. And- uhhh….ive still got to shower. And I haven’t packed-“

“Instead of standing here arguing with me about it, you could get started with all that!”

She could hear him mutter something under his breath about her being the most stubborn person he’d ever met. Shaking his head, he rushed back inside, his slippers completely drenched, his feet aching.

She shrugged, pressing the button on the car remote and listening to it beep twice. She was in the middle of loading up the car when she heard Matty come back out; with a feeble jacket on, a layer not strong enough to protect his precious body from the elements. He had certain not changed or packed, but at least he had his boots on. She glanced at him quickly before turning back to return to her task. Behind her, Matty was mumbling.

“I knew you were gonna be the death of me the moment that I met you. I just never expected us to die in a snow storm, for fucks sakes.”

Ordinarily, this is what would instigate a fight. He would share his inside thoughts out loud, inevitably saying something to set her off, she’d bite back with something quipping and sarcastic, and they’d kick off their competition for who would have the last word. But, considering that they were in a hurry to get on the road, she let his complaints slide.

“It’s my fault. Should’ve known you’d make this an impossible task. But no, I had to plan this fuckin romantic shitshow.”

Her brows furrowed as she moved their bags around inside the car, trying to fit them together like Tetris pieces. Behind her, she heard Matty zip and unzip his backpack repeatedly. Was he planning on loading up his stuff one individual item at a time?

She pushed the back of the car closed, sighing loudly in an attempt to exhale the annoyance out of her body. But, then, she turned around.

“Oh- my- fuck-“ she was stunned.

Before her eyes, Matty knelt down on one knee. Among a huge bed of rose petals that were presently sinking into the snow, slowly being covered up with white, disappearing. He popped the little box in his hand. A gorgeous diamond ring sparkling from within.

“Will you marry me?” Matty asked as soon as their eyes locked. “My darling—“ he swallowed. His heart beating against his coat. “will you do me the honor of being my wife you stubborn, relentless, ridiculous human being?” Marty was shocked at how nervous he’d felt. Despite the fact that they’d been together forever, talked about spending the rest of their lives as a couple, discussed marriage, starting a family, felt comfortable in their decision that they never wanted to be with anyone else, ever again. Matty still felt vulnerable and scared. To offset the unnerving feeling, he did what he does best: rant. “I had this whole thing planned. It was meant to happen inside! By the fireplace. Tonight. Dinner. Just you and me. There was going to be wine- umm…I can get the wine actually!” He went to stand up “probably shouldn’t get up before you answer. I just….theres nobody else I’d rather be snowed in - or out- with. I suppose you could say- the storm….it’s an awfully clear metaphor for- you know….the unexpected ups and downs of life that come your way in a marriage- or something obvious and dramatic like that….i just mean I love you and only you. I never want to love anyone else for the rest of my days. And I can’t think of a better way to honor that, than, like, marrying you, so I think we should be husband and wife. Forever and-“

She knelt down, kissing him with tears in her eyes. The sudden, added weight, threw him off balance, his knee sinking into the soft snow.

“Yes.” She whispered giggling into his mouth. “Yes I’ll marry you, you pretentious dickhead. Give me the ring…”

[marleysfinest]

   After arriving at London Gatwick following a spur-of-the-moment booking, Reiner stretched his tired frame as he stepped off of the British Airways flight that had just landed from Vancouver. His neck pillow clung to him haphazardly and he heaved a hurriedly-packed duffel bag over his shoulder as he and the other passengers shuffled towards immigration and baggage claim. His body clock was shot - in his head, it was 2am, but the blinding, 10am sunshine told him otherwise, and while he’d managed to sleep on the plane, his head and eyes felt heavy as they yearned for rest. 

   He made it through immigration with ease, and was soon restlessly twitching his leg as he waited for his suitcase at baggage claim. The dusting of sleepiness had cleared thanks to the fluorescent lighting and excessive air-con, and Reiner’s thoughts had returned to seeing Marley, who was waiting on the other side of the wall at arrivals. Or, rather, was waiting in her car in a pick-up bay. She’d messaged him just after landing saying that the arrivals hall was busier than they’d anticipated, and to avoid an unwanted media-frenzy, she was going to wait in the car just outside. 

   On sight of his silver Samsonite suitcase, Reiner all but barged the waiting travellers out of the way so he could haul it from the carousel and head for the arrivals hall, feeling thankful that he’d chosen a four-wheeled case that glided with ease and, most importantly, speed. He dodged a small number of paparazzi by raising his hood and ducking his head, and upon seeing Marley’s car parked in the pick-up bay, ran full tilt, forgetting his prior tiredness. He threw his things onto the back seat before excitedly climbing into the passenger side of the black Mercedes G-Class, immediately leaning over and cupping Marley’s face to pull her into a forceful kiss. Marley giggled her way through it, ever moved by Reiner’s apparently uncontrollable affections, and the two of them smiled at one another wider than they had done in a while. 

   Click. 

   Everything fell right back into place as Reiner fastened his seatbelt, and Marley began to pull away from the airport. It perhaps wasn’t the best idea to drive - what with at least ninety minutes ahead of them as they drove to Marley’s London bolt-hole in Battersea - but Marley knew that Reiner couldn’t have stomached being folded up on a train, even if it did cut the journey time, not after such a long flight. She didn’t mind, anyway. In her mind it just gave them time they wouldn’t have had otherwise.

   “How was your flight?”

   Reiner’s head lolled back against the headrest as he turned to look at Marley; she didn’t have to take her eyes off of the road to know what expression he was making, and she couldn’t help but laugh. 

   “Come on!” she pleaded, “Business class on British Airways can’t be that bad, can it?” 

   “Mar.” Reiner’s voice was surprisingly stern, although he was still smiling. “I got put next to this greasy businessman who did not stop smacking his lips after throwing peanuts in his mouth the entire flight. Whenever this guy was awake he sounded like a… bulldog, or something.” 

   Having had a good night’s sleep and not just endured a nine and a half hour flight, it was easy for Marley to find the humour in the situation. She pouted her bottom lip.

   “Poor baby,” she mocked, “time to start flying on a private yet, although I have to say, I’m fond of a peanut on a flight…”

   “Stop,” laughed Reiner as he gently hit Marley across the arm, “you made your point. Go back to asking me about my favourite colour, or something.” 

[deafmangoes]

An Ambitious Purchase

After getting a little too drunk with his peers, a Fiendish Braggadocio heads to Polythreme with half a purpose and less of a plan.

Link to AO3! Here's my entry for the @fallenlondonficswap, written for @bizarrebazaar13 and featuring over-confident devils and the delights of Polythreme!

When London fell, there were 4412 registered public houses. No one's entirely sure how many remain, or how many have appeared since, because the damn things no longer stay still long enough to be counted. Living in the city you eventually learn which pubs are For You, and which Are Not For You, according to your status, wealth, morals or humanity. The Seven Bells in Spite was a haunt for the infernal sort, pent up after a day's work at the Brass Embassy and looking to relax in ways that might be fatal to humans.

At a table near the bar a trio of devils were working their way through pints of bitter lager and glass after glass of brandy. The conversation had turned to boasting about recent acquisitions.

"Took the soul of a judge this week! Sold it to me for a kiss, the pervert," remarked a young devil, flushed with booze.

"Well, I got a ladies' sewing circle up near the palace. Every last one of them," replied another. The third devil, a Fiendish Braggadocio, fidgeted with his glass in silence for just a moment too long. The pair saw this and pounced.

"So, what did you drag in this week?" they teased, knowing the answer already. The third devil looked anywhere except at the pair. He hadn't made a successful purchase all month. It was galling. What he needed, he thought to himself as his companions laughed, was a really big score. Something monumentous. Incredible. Something that would get him noticed.

He finished his pint and slammed the glass down on the table. They stopped laughing.

"I've got a lead," he said, alcohol-induced terrible ideas coming to the fore in the form of the biggest lie he could think of, "I'm off to the docks, and..."

They stared at him, incredulous.

"I'm going to buy Polythreme."

That's why the Fiendish Braggadocio was stepping off a rusty steamship onto the living stone of Polythreme's quayside, clutching a suitcase filled with spare clothes and paperwork. He strolled along the water's edge, ignoring the muffled complaints of the flagstones below his feet, and searched for someone upon which he could foist himself.

He found one in the shape of a bundle of scarves and pair of damp zailor's overalls, hauled back from the depths. There may have been someone inside, the devil thought it best to not pry. The enthusiastic (if fishy) Salt-Encrusted Ensemble shambled forward and shook the devil's hand with gusto. Its glove had barnacles on it.

"Welcome to Polythreme, the Island Of A Thousand Voices!" it said, with a watery gurgle, "That's our new tagline, do you like it? Oh, no, don't answer yet, I'll send you a survey at the end of the tour."

"Tour?"

"Yes! We are one of the Polythreme Tourist Board's official guides, here to show new visitors the many Sights of Polythreme and our Vibrant, Living Culture!" it continued. The Fiendish Braggadocio felt he could hear the pronounced capitals. The clothes colony dragged him with a surprisingly strong grip up the harbour and into the main streets of the small city.

"To your left you'll see the Muttering Ampitheatre, and its twin the Grumbling Ampitheatre. Over on the right we have the city's finest coffee house - ignore the screaming, that's just the kettles - and the Wailing Folly, our tallest and least useful building..." it continued in this vein for some time, before finally dragging the devil to a boarding house that had been been garnished with a sign reading 'HOTTEL'. The clothes colony entered first and ducked behind the makeshift counter, re-appearing with a foppish top hat and monocle.

"Good afternoon, sir! May I furnish you with one of our finest suites? Our beds are the quietest and most co-operative in the city."

The devil nodded, a little dazed. The Salt-Encrusted Ensemble (and the Hotelier's Hat) shook his hand again, directed him to sign the guestbook (blank, maudlin) and gave him a key (conciliatory, fanged). It then ducked behind the counter a second time, re-appeared wearing a bellboy's cap, and snatched up the devil's suitcase. When at last the Fiendish Braggadocio sat on the bed (thankfully silent, for now) with a survey form in hand, he realised this had all perhaps been a mistake.

After three days the devil was certain: this was a mistake. His cravat had rebelled on the first day, refusing to be worn and professing its undying love for his left sock. He caught the cravat cavorting with his right sock later that evening, and the arguments ("I didn't know you had a twin!", "they seduced me!", etc.) continued all night. On the second day he found his suitcase had eaten his favourite hat, and the rest of his belongings refused to go on until they had held a funeral. On the third he had a nasty run-in with a razor that had turned bloodthirsty. The whole time he had struggled to get any information. Clay Men avoided him. The occasional visitors from London or the Elder Continent exchaged polite nods but little else. The Clothes Colonies were more interested in fashion trends than business. He was no closer to his goal than when he'd started, and didn't dare return to London empty-handed.

On another walk around the island he passed by a delegation from the Khanate. His Mongolian was rusty, but he was able to make out something about 'the Hundreds' refusing their meeting. It wasn't much of a lead, but better than he'd had yet. The devil returned to his lodgings and caught the Salt-Encrusted Ensemble as it was cleaning (in a maid's apron, no less).

"Who is- or who are, the Hundreds?" he asked while it dusted.

"Oh, didn't I tell you during the tour? The Hundreds is our king. A father, of sorts, to the Clay Men. I suppose to me he's more like a stern uncle."

"Where could I find him?"

"Everywhere, really! He's the entire island. But you won't be able to speak to him, he doesn't take many visitors. People try of course, they march up the hill but almost no one gets through the gates."

"So he lives up there?"

"I suppose from your singular perspective you could say he 'lives' there, it's where the island began."

The Fiendish Braggadocio considered his options. He had to talk to this king. Gifts were out of the question, he had nothing to offer, and he assumed the Clay Broker wouldn't make introductions. That just left breaking in. He could do that. He had experience. A plan came together.

Living islands needed their sleep too, it seemed, and there were periods of time where Polythreme became quieter. He had taken note of these over the days, and chose one such time to walk up the winding street towards the hilltop. He crouched in the shadow under the villa's walls and prepared his equipment: a rope stolen from the harbour, excited to be used for new purposes, a set of lockpicks that bickered with each other but could be bribed to co-operate, and his spare suit, ready to cause a distraction at the gates.

He gave the signal and his clothes lumbered away. Shortly after they were arguing with the guards, and the devil waited until he heard the Clay Men on the other side of the wall scraping towards the commotion. He threw the rope, which knotted itself to the wall, and made short work of climbing over. Quickly down the gravel path to the door and the lockpicks came out. They made short work of the lock, cajoling and daring it to open for them.

It was dark inside the villa. Fine copper lamps lined the walls but remained unlit. The devil stalked the sprawling complex, finding only room after room of furnishings that never saw any use. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Finally he came to a room simpler than the rest: it looked like the interior of a village hut and spurned the decor seen elsewhere in the palace. A marble statue finer than any he had seen in the streets sat over a low fire. It turned its head to meet him and the devil yelped.

"Well? You've broken into me and roamed my corridors. Here I am," it said, in a soft, accented voice that reminded the devil of the Fourth City. "I could summon my guards to remove you, or if I felt like it simply move myself such that you'd be left outside, but..." it paused, and gestured for the devil to sit. "I saw you arrive. I saw you outside the walls, I saw you open the door. I could have stopped you at any time, but I didn't. Why is that, do you think?"

"My charm?" the Fiendish Braggadocio offered, though there was uncertainty in his voice. The King with a Hundred Hearts chuckled, and the house shuddered with the statue's shoulders.

"You piqued my interest. I've had agents of the Presbyterate try to get in. I've had Hell's Triremes dashed on the rocks of my cliffs. Thieves from every fallen city. But they all knew what they were after, and it seems that you don't. I should be plain with you: I don't have a soul. Not anymore. I heard you speak with my Broker about it."

The statue stared into the fire in silence for some time.

"I will make you a deal, if you like. You may have something else from me, in place of what you cannot, so long as you do me a service in turn."

The Fiendish Braggadocio leant in close, the light of the fire glinting off his fangs. The King with a Hundred Hearts reached into the ashes with a stone hand and drew out a shard of diamond the size of a thumb. The whole building sighed and relaxed, as if something uncomfortable had been removed. The statue turned it over, watched it shine, then offered it to the devil.

"A piece of my heart. Take it west. Take it all the way to Hell." It saw the devil's surprise and explained, "I was a traveller once. I journeyed from my home in the far east following the sun. I went west until I found the Crossroads Shaded by Cedars. That world is long gone now, but still a part of me desires to go further. So take it - take me - west, further west, over the Hinterlands and past the White City. That's my price. Do we have a deal?"

"We do," the Fiendish Braggadocio replied, clutching the shard tightly. He felt the villa shift around him, and a door appeared behind the marble statue.

"Very well. Take this exit. The guards will not bother you." It dismissed him with a waved hand.

The devil made his way back into the quiet streets, and it seemed to him that everything held its breath as he walked. The Salt-Encrusted Ensemble stood outside its 'hottel' with the devil's bag already packed. It assured him that the bill had been settled and heartily wished him good luck.

So the Fiendish Braggadocio climbed back aboard the steamer and headed west, back towards the lights of London. He smiled to himself, looking at the diamond in his hand. The next round at the Seven Bells was on him.

[athenasparrow]

New Fic! Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Publishing my first @jilymicro-oops fic! This fic covers much more than a "Glance" now : )

Read Chapter 1 on AO3

Summary:

But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t take his eyes off her figure as she moved effortlessly in rhythm with whatever song she had playing. He learned she was wearing more than a t-shirt when she slid across the kitchen on her socks, throwing her head back to sing words James wished he could hear.

OR: In a world where social distancing reigns supreme, two strangers find themselves confined to their apartments with love only a window away.

Chapter One - Enchanted

Fucking hell, this bag was heavy .

Lily’s steps were slow and deliberate, burdened by the deceptively cheerful turquoise suitcase that carried everything from her year abroad in Melbourne. Her breath was hot against the itchy mask that was irritating, but necessary until she was ensconced in the sanctuary of her own apartment.

Despite the extensive weight of her bag, Lily was determined. She hauled it up the stairs, into the lift, and the sound of the small rolling wheels echoed as she tugged it down the long hallway, before finally sighing as she stepped into her new flat. She opened and closed her fingers to help return the blood to her fingers again where the suitcase handle had pinched and marked her skin. She supposed arriving home just after covid hit had been lucky. At least she was in the same bloody country as her parents incase things got worse. 

Not that it really mattered; she couldn’t see them anyways. But it was comforting somehow, knowing that they were within a train ride instead of an overnight flight.

She’d only ever seen the flat online, and although it hadn’t been as much of a gamble, thank you 3D walk-throughs , she was still quite relieved to find it as charming and clean as the photos had been.

It was a bright, sunny flat with high ceilings and large windows. The rays of the evening sun hit the light walls with a golden hue, excluding a peacefulness that crept up and over Lily as she stood in the doorway. Her potted plants of various sizes and shapes were scattered throughout the living area, lending further serenity and freshness to the room. 

She’d have to thank Marlene for arranging for her things to be brought out of storage - and for picking out that heavenly looking sofa. It sat facing the large window that looked out over the cosy street. After hours of sleepless travelling and swaps stuck up her nose, Lily was never more thankful the movers had unpacked most of her things that had been in storage, so Lily only had the finishing touches to do. Her feet padded across the hardwood floor as she made her way to the window, determined to open it for the breeze if this was the fresh air she was limited to for god knows how long .

There was a tree to her left that blocked her view of any apartments down the street, the only one she could see was the one directly across from her, arranged in a mirror image of her layout.

And to the right…

Marlene had done well.

***

WhatsApp Chat

Private: Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon

Lily Evans: Marls, you beautiful woman!

You got me a corner apartment looking out onto a fucking park?!?!?!

A park!!!!!

I see nothing but trees on my North side.

Excuse me while I wipe up my drool from these hardwood floors.

I am in heaven : D

Marlene McKinnon: Ahh! I’m so happy you’re back!

And that you like it : )

It was a good find with prices down at the moment.

I figured a bit of green would be nice while you’re stuck inside all day!

Not as much green as me, but tried my best X

<attachment>

Lily Evans: So so nice!

I feel like I’m in my own private oasis.

Lol, are you on a lake?

That’s prime isolation real estate!

Hello to Dorcas X

Marlene McKinnon: You deserve it lovey X

She says hi!

Facetime when you’re settled < 3

Lily Evans: Will do!

***

Lily felt happiness wash over her as she settled. It was kind of happiness that made the air feel fresher, that boosted her energy and let her face rest in a content smile. It felt good to pack away her things, nest , her grandmother had called it. And be home. In her city. Even if she couldn’t enjoy it.

Lily pushed the timber desk against the wall so she could look out over the trees while she worked, dragging the chair across the carpet to complete the basic set up. The walls were more bare than she would like, but artwork would have to wait for tomorrow. For now, the laptop, monitor, keyboard and mouse were all she needed to work.

She really should save more of this for tomorrow, Lily thought as she eyed her clothes in the closet and the pile of books in her living room. Rinse off and sleep , she instructed herself firmly. 

Thank you Marlene was her last thought before sleep hit as she noticed her curtains were drawn for the night.

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

WhatsApp Group Chat

Members: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter

Sirius Black: How are you doing Prongs?

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James Potter: Oh fuck off Padfoot

Poor you, stuck in lockdown on a bloody private beach

Sirius Black: You could’ve come too you know

James Potter: And disrupt your romantic trip?

I don’t think so.

On the upside, someone has moved into the flat across the street 

There are boxes in the living room and bedroom light was on last night

So at least I’ll be able to see another human going about their life, right?

Sirius Black: That sounds like the optimism of a miserable man stuck in London

Remus Lupin: Don’t be mean Pads

And really, I feel a bit of guilt shirking the responsibilities of work because we’re stuck

Sirius Black: I don’t. Not one bit.

James Potter: They’ll move you online

I’ve already got a set up here

Sirius Black: Your company is run by your family 

James Potter: Not sure what your point is, since you work for the same company???

When you even work at all…

Sirius Black: I have no point other than that you’re a sucker

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***

James set his phone on the table, heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Well, that was his original goal, anyways. Now he stood frozen, unable to move and barely able to breathe.

It turns out someone did move in across the road. But not just anyone.

James felt bewitched . Enchanted . Transfixed . It was hard to look away from her. 

She’d obviously just woken up. Her hair hung in a messy state –flowing down her back in soft curls and whisps covering her face as she moved– and she wore an oversized t-shirt that lifted when she danced to reveal–

He shouldn’t be looking , James reprimanded himself sternly.

But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t take his eyes off her figure as she moved effortlessly in rhythm with whatever song she had playing. He learned she was wearing more than a t-shirt when she slid across the kitchen on her socks, throwing her head back to sing words James wished he could hear. He felt a surprised laugh escape him at the pure joy this woman seemed to exude…all for making breakfast. James stepped closer to the window and strained his ears – he could faintly make out the faint tunes of That’s why they call it the blues as she swung and shimmied her way around the kitchen, opening all the cupboards in obvious search of something.

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

Lily sang softly as she set the plate on the counter, twirling to adjust her eggs in the pan.

And I guess that’s why they call it the blues

Time on my hands could be time spent with youLaughing like children, living like–

She did a double take. There, in the living room of the apartment across the way, a young man about her age stood stock still, mouth parted, staring at her. A very fit man . He had a rugged intellectual vibe with messy hair Lily wished she could reach over and touch, thick framed glasses that had slid down his nose slightly and broad shoulders that his t-shirt stretched over deliciously . 

Lily froze. She felt a flush creep over her face as she remembered her state of undress and a strange rush of exhilaration overcame her at that same thought. An embarrassed laugh crept out of her when he hesitantly lifted a hand and waved.

She hurriedly waved back, before ducking her head and grabbing her breakfast, very aware of her state of attire - or lack there of - from her waist down.

Lily spent the day setting up her office and avoiding looking through the window. Boxes and boxes of things to set up until her home was just right aught to prove a sufficient distraction, right?

But her mortification only grew as she recalled how scrumptiously appealing he’d looked.

God, how embarrassing . She really should have checked the window, but the street was unusually narrow and the view particularly detailed. 

And now she was stuck – unable to avoid him if she wanted to eat meals every day, unable to only spend nights at home because the whole country –the whole bloody world– was in lockdown, and unable to move–

Fuck’s sake Lily, shake it off , she told herself sternly as she tried to push the cloud of shame out of her chest. She knew deep down that the embarrassment, humiliation and self-conscious feeling would recede eventually, it was just difficult to recall with her pounding heart and flushed cheeks. 

“Just ignore him, you’ll be fine,” she muttered to herself as she slipped a hair tie from her wrist so she could pull her auburn hair off her neck.

Lily had not yet learned just how impossible of a task it was to ignore James Potter.

[zacharyja]

Thursday, June 6, 2024

Purgatory Day

Today began at about 9:30am, where I then finished packing my suitcases and getting ready to check out of my hotel. Once 11 rolled around I dropped my keys off and got an uber to my next hotel, so that I could drop my bags off while I waited until 3pm to check in. After arriving and dropping off my luggage I didn’t really have anywhere to go or anything to do until 3 so I decided to walk around the Kawaramachi area for a while.

I went to a bunch of stores and did some window shopping, not really looking to buy anything as I didn’t feel like having to carry it around with me for multiple hours while waiting for the hotel check in time. I then decided to grab some lunch, and felt like having some Katsu Curry so I popped into the nearest Coco Ichibanya and got a table for one. I ordered my usual meal of Chicken Katsu curry with naan, and demolished it as per usual.

After eating I hung out at the restaurant for a bit before deciding to head over to Round One, which was only about a 5 minute walk from the restaurant. While here I decided to play some Maimai and spent the next 45 minutes doing just that. I kind of want to buy a cheap pair of gloves for Maimai but I also don’t really want to look like a tryhard sweaty Maimai player. I also went from 3708 to 5000 today, big money moves!

Once I felt I had my fair share of rhythm games, I decided to walk around the area a bit more and kill some time. I wound up at a cat cafe/puppy store. All of the dogs were insanely adorable and I wish I could take them all home with me. I have no idea how they always have such cute puppies but I guess there is a big market for that here.

After more dilly dallying I was finally able to check into my hotel, which is located in a really good spot nearby to Kawaramachi and is sort of a downtown type of area. The hotel itself is also really nice, and I am impressed with the view of the city that we have.

After a while my sister finally arrived at the hotel and it was great to see her after many months. She was hungry after traveling and we decided to hit up a Matsuya nearby while my laundry finished drying (it took 3 hours thank you Japan for the worst dryers in existence). The food was pretty good as always, no complaints from me.

After this we walked around the area a bit before heading over to Family Mart to make a snack run, the haul was pretty phenomenal as you can see from my snack spread.

After this we attempted to go to Round One, which I was under the impression was 24 hours or at least open past 1am but I was apparently wrong, even though it says open until 6am on google. So since we couldn’t do this we decided to find some low key place to hangout for a bit, and settled on Bar Back Alley, which was pretty empty and nice to just talk for a while. They were out of ¥500 beef jerky so the guy offered me “Junkie Potatoes” for a ¥450 discount which was nice of him.

The food was decent but I was mostly in the mood for beef jerky, oh well another time i’m sure - c’est la vie!

[ruki--mukami]

I really wanted Ruki and Nunnally to interact again, so I have decided to (force) help them to do so. I hope it is okay to send another ask so shortly after the last interaction. And putting Ruki into such an uncomfortable situation…

Nunnally was sitting in the Mukami’s manor entrance hall. Her suitcase standing next to her. She was sitting perfectly straight, her fists clenched on her lap, her eyes cold. She was visibly furious.

“Why do I need to be here?” – she thought to herself – “Why did He send me to be here? You have to remain calm Nunnally. Do not let them provoke you.” – she continued speaking to herself. – “It is just seven days and six nights. Five school days. You can avoid meeting these…” – she could not find the right word to call the Mukami brothers – “…Perhaps you will not even meet the eldest of them. You were told to stay here not to talk with them."

When she heard somebody coming, she stood up and looked in that direction. “What a bad luck!” – she thought – “Ruki!” She instantly forgot the speech she had carefully prepared before coming here. She was standing there throwing daggers at Ruki for a few moments. Then she turned away and pretended to be interested in one of the paintings hanging on the wall. Not facing Ruki, she said --:

“As you probably were informed, I will be staying in this manor for a week…upon His decision.” – she stated coldly – “I would like to be shown my room and have my maid introduced to me. And I hope you are perfectly aware that neither you nor other…other inhabitants of this household are not allowed to have my blood.”

"So I see you've finally arrived, Nunnally." He sighed at the girl's slight clumsiness. For someone greeting him in his own house, she seemed a bit more surprised than he would’ve imagined. Perhaps he truly intimidated her that much if she felt inclined to feign interest at a mere decoration on the wall. The reaction brought a faint smirk to his lips for just a second.

Before she arrived at the Mukami estate, he had been preparing a savory chicken rice soup for dinner and reading a book in the meantime. Closing the novel shut at his side, he laughed at the girl's supercilious demeanor. She just arrived and yet she already demanded a servant. How ridiculous, he thought to himself.

"In what corner of your small brain do you think we would have maids here? Don't make me laugh. This manor is not the same as whatever ivory tower you've grown accustomed to."

If Nunnally glared daggers at Ruki, then he returned her gaze with Excaliburs of his own.

"Fine, I'll show you to your room, but if you need help with small chores then I'll summon our familiars for you. Those will have to suffice in place of maids."

The Vampire headed down the hallway, escorting Nunnally to one of their spare bedrooms. Inside the surprisingly spacious room she would be staying in was an ornate off-white wallpaper with a desk and dresser containing many drawers for her convenience. To the adjacent wall was one large window adorned with beige curtains and a matching mattress of the same color. Fit for any important guest Karlheinz instructed them to care for, or at least Ruki figured.

"Here's where you'll be sleeping." A familiar hauled her luggage inside before seemingly vanishing into thin air. "Somehow I doubt we're not allowed to have your blood if I have already sucked from you before, but whatever helps you sleep at night."

A brief moment passed, allowing Nunnally to familiarize herself with the room. If Karlheinz really instructed the girl to live with them for a week, then Ruki began to ponder various explanations as to why she would have to life here. Was something of importance occurring this specific week? Was their benefactor trying to teach them a lesson by caring for the eccentric girl? Despite not knowing the reason, he pushed those thoughts aside for now.

"Well, you're just in luck. Dinner is about to be ready. I do hope you aren't averse to soup."

🧩 Aww, it's nothing to worry about at all. It's fun for me to watch these two interact as well. 🥺 🧩

[egcdeath]

first impressions

pairing: soft!ransom drysdale x reader 

summary: [request] “hmm prompts... Ransom introducing you (a total opposite of him) to his family for the first time, or a Thrombey wedding! if you feel like it” i like where your brain is at anon! but why not a little bit of both? ;)

word count: 3.7k

warnings: pretty fluffy, some angst, toxic family dynamics

author’s note: this has been super lightly edited so pls forgive any mistakes <3 click here if you’d like to be added to my taglist & all reblogs are super appreciated!

You felt slightly out of place driving through the neighborhood of your youth in the passenger seat of Ransom’s beloved Beamer. Thinking of how your parents would react to your boyfriend, let alone his lifestyle of excess, made your heart rate increase, and you shuffled a bit in your seat unconsciously as a result of your nerves. As if he were reading your thoughts, Ransom set a steady hand on your knee and gave it a tiny reassuring squeeze before parking in front of the curb ahead of your home. 

Nervously exiting the vehicle, you watched wordlessly as Ransom grabbed your overnight bags from the trunk, and hauled them over his shoulders. Still saying nothing, you reached out and grabbed Ransom’s hand, constricting his circulation as you strolled up to your door, and rang your own doorbell.

When your mother whipped open the door and offered you an excited grin, you finally were able to let out the breath that you weren’t even aware you were holding.

“Goose!” your mother cheered, squeezing the life out of you while you snuck a glance at Ransom who seemed rather amused by the childhood pet name. “And who’s this?” she asked, pulling away from you and looking him up and down.

“I’m Ransom, your daughter’s boyfriend,” he announced with confidence, offering your mom friendly smile, before glancing back over at you and raising his brows the slightest bit. 

“Finally putting a face to the name, then. I’ve heard all about you from this one. Come on in,” she gestured for the two of you to enter. “Y/N can show you to her room, and dinner will be ready in about a half hour,” with that, your mother was off, and you were once again alone with Ransom.

You showed him up to your room, where he set down the bags and flopped down onto your bright pink duvet.

“Goose, huh?” he questioned, rolling on the hyperfeminine twin mattress. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, before sitting down next to the headboard of the bed.

“Do you think she liked me?” Ransom asked, seemingly out of nowhere. “Did you tell her good things about me?”

“Since when do you care about what other people think of you?” you giggled a bit, and planted your fingers in Ransom’s hair. 

“I care because…” he thought for a moment, calculating just how honest he wanted to be. “I care because this is the longest relationship I’ve been in, and I want my future parents-in-law to like me.”

“We’ve been together for like, a year, Ran. But I applaud your commitment to me,” you massaged his scalp as you spoke, and ignored the butterflies floating throughout your torso at his mention of marriage. 

“Well? Do you think she likes me?” he asked once again. 

“Mmm, I like when you care about things,” you pressed a little peck to his forehead, and hovered a bit over his face. “She said like, 20 words to you, max. But after dinner I’m sure they’ll like you. At least I hope they will.”

Ransom playfully swatted at you. “How comforting. Wait, stay right there,” he reached up and held the hand that was massaging his scalp in place. 

——

By the time dinner came around, you seemed to have switched emotions with your partner, as you were feeling much more relaxed, and Ransom on the other hand, was not.

He kept a hand on your knee under the table in what seemed like a grounding technique, squeezing every now and then while your father plated your meals.

“So, how did you two meet?” your father questioned, sitting down beside your mom.

“We met while we were volunteering at the Humane Society together,” you gushed, glancing over at your partner who was nervously sipping his water, then back at your parents. “He always seemed so pissed in the beginning. I mean, the amount of times I saw him growling obscenities while tugging on harnesses, or playing the most unenthusiastic games of fetch I’d ever seen in my life is astounding,” you laughed softly, and looked over at Ransom once again as if you were cueing him to speak.

“Yeah, I really didn’t like it there at first. Not really a dog guy, but my grandad said it was community service or no allowance, and I was not interested in the latter,” he chuckled awkwardly and received confused expressions from your parents, which granted you an SOS squeeze on the knee. 

“Um, anyway, one day we were closing, and I went into the last cat suite, and there grumpy old Ransom was, cuddling with Garfield, you know, the old cat with the three legs, and it was literally the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Especially ‘cause Garfield is so hard to please,'' you paused to take a bite of the food in front of you. “We started talking more after that, then he asked me out, and of course I said yes. I guess the rest is history.”

“Aw, Goose, that’s so cute!” your mom cooed, but the moment didn’t last too long. 

“What do you do for work, Ransom?” Your dad asked, tilting his beer at the man. 

“I’m currently in between jobs. But, uh, I’ve been doing a lot of volunteer work.” 

Your father nodded wordlessly and paused for a second. “Volunteering get you a Beamer?”

“Dad!” You interrupted in a yelp, “please.” You frowned as you looked between the men. 

“Y/N, it’s fine. It’s a good question, but I got it as a gift a few years back. And, you know, my family’s comfortable.”

Before your father could respond, your mom popped in to save the conversation. “No money talk at the table, please. Tell me more about your relationship,” she gave both of you a sympathetic look. 

——

After that, dinner went on without much of a hitch, and you agreed upon doing the dishes with your mother while your father and boyfriend prepared a little fire outside.

“He seems sweet,” she commented after a long period of silence. 

“I’m glad you think so. He was really worried about you not liking him, and honestly, I was too,” you rinsed the last glass before setting it in your dishwasher.

“I just want you to be careful, okay? When you have that much money, people do strange things, or say things they don’t mean and expect you to just take it. He seems like a good boy, but just don’t let your guard completely down. The last breakup you went through-“

“Stop, I get it,” you sighed softly. 

“This doesn’t mean I don’t like him. I just don’t want to see you that hurt again,” she gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Let’s go stop your dad from catching a murder charge,” she beckoned you to follow her out to the backyard, where your boyfriend and dad were… laughing together? If you weren’t so relieved, it’d almost be off-putting. 

The rest of the night went alarmingly well, Ransom finding a way to bond with both of your parents after an awkward first half of the evening. As the two of you crawled into your tiny bed and spooned while drifting off to sleep, Ransom slurred a tired ‘I think they liked me,’ into your ear. 

From that point on, Ransom’s position within your family only became better. For the first time, he was welcomed into a familial environment that wasn’t more toxic than a Chernobyl cooling tower, and Ransom was loving it. After suggesting to spend that year’s Thanksgiving at your parents’ home, spending the holidays with the L/N family became a frequent occurrence for the two of you. 

Though you occasionally wondered why you were four years into a relationship with the man, and still hadn’t met his family, which to your understanding, was rather large, you had better things to concern yourself with. You understood and respected that Ransom’s relationship with his own family wasn't the best, from the little that he shared with you, but occasionally curiosity often got the best of you.

Yet, things seemed to shift after your engagement. In the midst of dress fittings and cake tastings, Ransom had decided that it was finally time for you to meet the rest of the Thrombey clan, and that there was no better time than Harlan’s book release party, which was being celebrated out in California, at the Thrombey Vineyard.

In your years of relationship, you’d become no stranger to luxury, and the finer things in life, but arriving at the Vineyard put you in awe at just how affluent these people were. Perhaps that’s what happens when you’re one of the great writers of your time, and your offspring go off to become equally “self-made” successes.

You were a bit tired from the three hour difference between Boston and Sonoma Valley, and as soon as you hopped out of the car at the vineyard, you could only think of getting to your room, out of your baggy travel clothes, and to sleep as soon as possible. 

Trailing behind Ransom, you looked around at the vast expanse of crop-filled land around you in astonishment while you walked up the cement path to the mansion, not really noticing the petite woman with curled blonde hair, and an oversized straw hat approaching you. 

“Oh gosh, you must be Y/N!” she said gleefully. “I’m Joni. I’ve seen you all over Ranny’s Insta,” she paused and looked you up and down. “Well, you do look a little different there,” she chuckled.

“That’s great, Joni. Maybe you can Tweet about how exhilarating and life changing this experience has been for you to all your little pyramid scheme friends.”

“You’re always so rude, Hugh,” she sneered.

“I forgot about your chronic victimhood. Goodbye, Joan,” he rolled his eyes, and practically tugged you inside the massive building in front of you, before dragging you up the stairs. You were honestly in a little bit of shock at seeing how nasty Ransom got from just a small interaction.

You set your Louis Vuitton Keepal, and aluminum suitcase down on the granite floor of the bedroom, before flopping down, and spreading your limbs out on the massive memory foam bed that sat in the center of the room, “What was that, Ran?” you questioned as he sprawled out next to you.

“The reason why I didn’t want you to meet them. They’re like sharks, looking for anything that even resembles blood in the water,” he threw an arm around you and yawned. “We can talk about this in the morning, though. Right now, I think that both of us need a shower.”

“Speak for yourself, you stink bug.”

“But what if I get lonely in there?” 

“Fine,” you huffed, moving his arm off of you, and heading off to the en-suite. 

That night, as you stared at the blank wall in a vain attempt to quiet your mind enough to fall asleep, you questioned if coming to meet Ransom’s family was more of a mistake than you initially anticipated.

The next morning felt a bit frantic. You and Ransom woke up a few hours before everyone else, as they’d been in California for a few days now and had adjusted to the time difference, while you two had not. An in-house chef made you two a gourmet buffet of a meal while housekeepers laid out your clothes back in your room, and you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the sudden interferences in your life. Though it was nice to not have to do all of the work, you weren’t sure how you felt about other people doing it for you. 

The majority of your day felt similar to that morning. You quickly realized that Ransom’s fortune was just a small portion of the Thrombey estate, and that his family were essentially a bunch of monsters with money. Throughout the day of horse riding, wine tasting, and wine painting workshops, you couldn’t help but notice how they turned their noses up at you, treating you, and the staff working at the vineyard, like some sort of outsider. 

Your alienation only became more apparent during Harlan’s celebratory dinner, when insults and sneers were tossed at both you and Ransom for being together. 

“Are you trying to get revenge on us, or something?” Richard asked at one point, gesturing to you, and catching you completely off guard, 

“Why would you say something like that?” Ransom asked, trying not to let his offence show as his jaw clenched.

“It’s just not like you to want to settle down, especially with someone like… her,” he spoke about you like you weren’t sitting right there.

“No, I agree,” Walt added. “For once in our lives I agree with you,” he laughed aloud, and a few other folks at the table laughed with him. “Can you believe that after all these years, we’re bonding over Ransom’s little girlfriend?” 

You weren’t even sure how to react, so you laughed awkwardly along with them, and stared blankly at the vast expanse of grape trees behind the row of Thrombey and their friends. What you would give to sprint out into that, and never come back. 

Ransom looked to you in your obvious discomfort, and grabbed your knee, offering it a little reassuring squeeze before he interrupted them. 

“You know what? All of you dickheads can eat shit. Y/N is really the only person who matters to me at this point, and you pricks need to respect that. Hell, you need to respect her.” 

“Look at little Ranny, getting all soft,” Walt chided. 

He ignored the comment and continued on, “And If I don’t start hearing apologies soon, every single one of your wedding invites have a one way ticket to the shredder.”

A silence fell over the table. You were a bit surprised too, since your invites had already gone out, and Harlan was the only Thrombey to receive one.

“...You’re getting married?” Meg asked, breaking the silence. “Why wouldn’t you tell us?” 

“Why do you think?” you muttered, pushing around a few things on your plate before standing up, and pushing your chair away. “Excuse me.”

You knew that by leaving, you were only opening yourself up for more criticism, but you genuinely weren’t sure that you’d be able to take one more second of hostility. You pushed your chair back in, before heading off the patio, into the gigantic home, and up to the room that you’d claimed.

You rolled on top of the bed, and screamed into a feather filled pillow. It wasn’t too long after when tears stung your eyes as you came to the conclusion that these monsters were just a few months away from becoming your in-laws.

You thought you’d heard the most of it after the table, yet a prompt knocking at your door proved otherwise. Letting herself in, you turned to face Ransom’s mother herself, and you just knew that you were in for it.

“Listen, you whore,” Linda began in a sharp, yet quiet tone, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do with my son. Isolate him from us. Try to ‘change him’ like I know you think you’re doing. But just know that at the end of the day, he’ll always pick us. You’ll always be the second choice, especially when Ransom realizes that you barely have a dime to your name, and his bank account starts to runs dry,” she approached you, and pointed an accusatory finger towards you. “You’ll never be anything but a disgusting, sloppy little gold digger. You may be his toy of the week, but at the end of the day, you’re just an afterthought. I suggest that you get out of his life sooner than later. I’m sure Ransom wouldn’t mind, considering we already have your replacement with one foot in the door,” she gestured over to the window facing the back patio, where Ransom was chatting with a brunette woman that appeared to be quite a few years younger than himself.

“You’re cute, Y/N. Really! It’s cute that you’re thinking right now that he would never leave you, cheat on you with some new, younger, hotter piece of ass. Just know that you don’t know Ransom as well as you really think you do. I can promise you, it’ll be much easier to break off an engagement than it’ll be to get a divorce. Especially with that prenup he’s considering dropping on your desk any day.” she tutted as if she cared. “Well, sweetheart, it was great meeting you. I’m glad that these were our first and last words together,” she gave your back a pat before leaving the room, and you looked out the window in shock. 

Shaking as you dig into the pocket of your sundress, you sent Ransom a simple ‘help’ message, before setting your phone aside and trying to pack your belongings in as quick of a manner as possible.

When Ransom opened the door, a steady stream of tears and mascara was staining your face, while you urgently threw things into your suitcase.

“Goose, what happened?” he gasped, hurrying over to your kneeling form, and setting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Why,” you sniffled. “Why would you let her come up here and say all that shit to me!” you croaked, swatting his hand away from you. 

“What?” he watched as you pressed down on the overfilled suitcase and frantically attempted to zip it, to no avail. “Linda said she was gonna come apologize?”

“Telling me that I’ll never be enough for you is just a perfect apology,” you muttered, “I need to go home.”

“God,” he grumbled to himself, “This is exactly why I waited so long for them to meet you. Okay, we can go home then. I’ll buy us tickets right now.”

“This is on you too, Ransom. You didn’t tell them about us, like, at all. You had so much time! You couldn’t give Linda a call and say ‘hey I’ve been seeing this girl’ or even tell Harlan to deliver the message for you?” you hiccuped, but continued. “All of this could’ve been avoided if they had four years to adjust to our relationship. Maybe then they wouldn’t call me a whore and a gold digger every other sentence.”

“I was just trying to protect you from them,” he frowned.

You finally managed to zip up the suitcase, and stood up along with it, “well, you clearly did a great job of that.” 

You dusted off the skirt of your dress, and grabbed your phone. “I’ll let you know when our car gets here,” you huffed before walking into the en-suite and closing the door behind you, just to have a moment for yourself (and make yourself look a bit more put together before you leave.)

A tense car ride, and awkward flight later, you marched straight into the guest bedroom, and cocooned yourself under a copious amount of blankets. You felt like you stayed there for years, only getting out of bed to shower and use the restroom, and living off of the crustless sandwiches and jarred spaghetti your fiancé brought to your door. 

You slept most of the time, and in the moments you weren’t sleeping, you were dwelling on every vicious word thrown at you at the vineyard. Every day, you listened to Ransom apologize through the door, yet every day, you questioned if going through with the wedding was truly the wisest idea. 

A few days into your stay in the guest bedroom, you finally allowed Ransom to stay in the room for more than just dropping off food. He sat down next to you in bed, and cupped your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb softly back and forth against the skin. 

“I don’t know how I can make things right for you,” he said softly. “I really did set you up, and I didn’t even mean to. I should’ve made better decisions, but I can’t change four years ago. But I can keep those heinous people away from you. They’ll never have the chance to do, or say anything like that to you again, okay?” his thumb caught on a tear, which he promptly wiped away. “Just… please don’t leave me. The bed feels too empty without you, and it’s just been a few days. I can’t imagine feeling that emptiness for the rest of my life.”

You whimpered and sat up, abruptly embracing the broad man. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let your idiot family make me question the validity of our relationship,” you muttered into his shirt. 

“I promise you you’ll never have to worry about them again. They had their opportunity to make things right, and they missed it.”

-----

Things were more or less smooth sailing after that fiasco. You found your perfect venue, decided on your ideal Honeymoon spot, and finished your seating arrangements with time to spare, and the next thing you knew your wedding day was around the corner. 

It all seemed to happen so fast, one second you were being walked down the aisle, the next, exchanging vows and rings as aisles of your friends and family members cheered for you, Y/N Drysdale.

Your reception also seemed to slip right through your fingers, your first dance, toasts and cake cutting finding itself over almost as soon as it started. You were grateful that you hired a wedding videographer, as the day was so overwhelming, you weren’t quite sure how much of it you’d remember. 

As you drove off to the airport, Ransom set his hand upon your knee one more time. A warm, fuzzy feeling formed in your chest at the all too familiar gesture. You turned your head from the window to your husband, who was grinning back at you, and couldn’t help but to think of how perfect your wedding ended up, though it felt like it sped by quickly. More than anything, you were grateful that you didn’t give up on Ransom despite his interesting family. 

[laurensprentiss]

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 19:

A/N: Here it is besties, v sorry for this but I live to cause chaos!! They both have some growing and living to do over the next chapters which will span around ten years. Stick around it’s gonna be interesting! Also Hotch looks rlly good here hehe

Warnings: None, really. Swearing, mentions of pregnancy, heavy angst.

———

“I'm scared I'm going to spend the rest of my life in a state of yearning, regardless of where I am.” - Melina Marchetta

———

08:00

It happens slowly then all at once. He knows he feels lighter, physically, before he’s fully conscious - can’t feel the warm weight of you on top of him. He frowns as he slowly awakens fully, feeling for your body next to him.

When all he feels are sheets, he comes to, a little quicker, opening one eye to look around. When he doesn’t see you, he figures you left to go to the bathroom but a piece of paper on your pillow catches his eye.

He frowns as he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes when the doorbell begins to ring incessantly. He looks between the door, the paper and then the door again, tucking the note underneath his pillow to come back to later. He takes a cursory look at the clock -

08:00

He runs downstairs with a grin, thinking maybe you went out to grab coffee and forgot you didn’t have a key, but when he opens the door, icy shock runs through his veins.

“Hi, Aaron.”

“Haley?” He replies stunned. He glances behind him, increasingly alarmed now as to your whereabouts.

She averts her gaze from Hotch’s half naked form, it’s nothing she hasn't seen before but there’s a barrier between them now. Even with what she’s about to tell him.

“Can we talk?”

“-This…. isn’t really a good time.” He replies, glancing behind him again. He uses his body to block what lies behind him, clothing littering the floor as evidence of last night. His cheeks run hot when he realises Haley already spotted it all.

“We need to talk. I wouldn’t have shown up like this, but she told me to come by at 8. Said I should talk to you.”

He frowns. “Who?” He asks, despite hazarding a very good guess he already knows the answer.

“Look, can I just come in? I'm really cold and this is incredibly awkward.”

He sighs, “Yeah- yeah come in.” He steps aside to let her in, picks his shirt up off the floor and begins to button it as he invites her to sit.

Haley tells him that she managed to track you down outside your apartment yesterday. His jaw ticks and he runs his thumb over his bottom lip, agitated. “Why would you do that?”

“I figured I owed her an apology. Ultimately I was the one who put her in danger with-” She licks her lips. “With him. I thought we should talk.”

“So you resorted to stalking?” He paces. He can’t figure out why you’d ask her to come by now, especially if you were going to spend the night last night.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She looks sick. “I kind of knew that you felt something for her, and I figured she probably did too. Clearly I was right.”

“I’m not doing this with you.”

She throws her hands up. “No! No, that's not what I meant. I need to tell you something but before I did, I needed to tell her, I owed her some courtesy after everything at least.”

He tilts his head and his eyes narrow. “Get to the point.”

She pulls out an envelope and slides it across the coffee table. She breathes shakily, nodding at it. “It’s all in there.”

He watches her quizzically, confused at her demeanour - she’s never been one to be at a loss for words. He takes a seat opposite, studying her as he peels open the envelope.

A sliver of cold panic works its way through his veins as he scans the page.

LABCORP DNA TESTING SERVICES

Sample 1 - BROOKS/HOTCHNER : Positive Match

Sample 2 - BROOKS/HOTCHNER : Positive Match

“What the hell is this?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

She swallows thickly, abetting her gaze. “It’s a paternity test. I’m pregnant.” She tells him quietly.

His chest tightens and his head starts swimming. “What? I don’t believe you.”

“It’s right there on the paper. It’s yours.” She looks like she’s holding back vomit, the colour on her face drained. She studies Aaron for any kind of a reaction but he still looks confused.

“I want another one.” He tells her waving the paper. “How far along are you?”

“3 and a half months.”

“Wait,” He winces as the cold realisation hits him. “You told her?”

She nods.

The colour drains from his face and he shoots up from his seat, remembering everything he’d told you yesterday about how he would do things differently if he ever became a father. Knowing now what you knew then, he can’t begin to fathom what must have been going through your mind yesterday.

He shoots up the stairs three at a time, hoping he’s not too late.

———

06:00

Your eyes burn with the lack of sleep and the aftermath of your breakdown. You lay still against Aaron’s chest, your hand splayed flat against his skin. You’ve been watching him sleep for most of the night, memorising all you can about him, and imagining an alternate future where you could’ve ended up together.

But it doesn’t help. All it goes is drive a stake deeper into your heart because no matter how much you imagine, it doesn’t change your future. The sun begins to rise sure enough, a promise of another day but the lighter it gets, the more your stomach turns and the tighter your chest gets.

You pull Aaron in closer one more time, fusing your body to his and you close your eyes. His hands run down your bag gently as he stirs in his sleep. You take a minute to take him in one last time, despite your aching heart you try to hold onto the happiness you’d felt before it all came crashing down.

You doubt you’ll feel for anyone the way you feel for him. But you can’t be selfish, not now. You whisper to him, barely audible, the words you need to get off your chest and with a gentle kiss to his sleeping face, you slink out of his arms.

You gather your clothes, and from the credenza drawer downstairs, grab a pen and paper.

‘Dearest Aaron…’

Tears stain your face as you initial the bottom of the letter and with a final breath, you fold it and scrawl his initials on top. You reluctantly walk back upstairs and when you see Aaron’s peaceful face in a deep sleep, it takes everything in you to walk away. You place the note on your pillow, and turn away before you change your mind.

But as you approach the door, you turn to take one last look at him, willing your memory to hold on to this image, to the feel of him. To what it feels like to be loved by him.

“Goodbye Aaron.” You whisper.

———

08:30hrs:

He struggles to get his pants on, throwing on odd socks and grabbing the note on the pillow which he stuffs haphazardly into his three day old jacket. He runs down the stairs three at a time, passing Haley on the way as he grabs his keys.

She looks at him with panic and confusion. “Go back to the hotel, I’ll call you!” He tells her. She looks around, stunned as the door slams shut behind him.

He fumbles with his phone, dialling your number, but it goes straight to voicemail. He tries Emily but it goes to voicemail too. He dials the direct line to your assistant and on the last ring, she picks up.

“Agent Hotchner?”

“Leah?”

“Yeah? Is everything okay?”

He desperately asks if she has any idea of where you are today, if you have anything on your docket.

“Not that I can see, no. Is everything okay?”

“Look, can you find out if she’s home and call me?” He hangs up and purposely turns on the sirens to weave through traffic to your place. In a cruel twist of fate, he curses the numerous traffic logs he encounters on his way, thinking he’ll deal with the fallout of using his lights without reason later.

He finally turns onto your street, tires screeching as he pulls up behind a blacked out towncar, into which an older gentleman appears to be hauling suitcases. He doesn’t bother closing the door as he exits his SUV, his eyes trailing on the suitcases being piled into the trunk of the towncar when he hears your voice.

He stops in his tracks.

“Alright, James. I think that’s the last of the b-”

The air leaves your lungs when you catch sight of him. There’s a brief moment when you think you think you’re imagining him but your chest squeezes when you look at his face, halfway between confused, devastated and just plain betrayed.

He utters your name with a shaky whisper. “What is this? What’s going on?” He asks unsteady, already knowing the answer.

You hand your bags to James who ducks between you to receive them, the tension thick and heavy. “I’m sorry, I planned on…” You struggle for the words. “Being done earlier than this. This is what I wanted to avoid.”

He retreats, eyebrows shooting up. “This, what? You wanted to avoid saying goodbye to me? You couldn’t even extend me the grace of telling me you were leaving?” He pulls out your note from his pocket, shaking it in front of you. “You left this and thought it would be enough? After everything that happened with us.”

“Come on, Aaron. You know that’s not what I meant. But you know why I’m leaving, it’s why you’re here. And I knew you would do this, I knew you’d try and talk me out of going. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat.

The desperation inside him starts to claw at him. “You don’t have to leave. We’re adults, we can figure this out.” He takes both of your hands tightly in his.

You shake your head. “I won’t put you in that position, I know how important this is to you. I won’t put myself in that position either.” He opens his mouth to oppose you but he knows as well as you do that this is the end. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this but this was easier when I had a stalker, all I had to worry about was making it through the day without being murdered. But things are real now, you have a career and a family to worry about, I have to go to college. I guess we just didn’t think this through.”

He retreats slightly, a hurt expression on his face. “That doesn’t mean it was wrong.” He says, quietly. “I told you I’d wanted to be with you for a long time, and I meant it. I don’t regret any of it.”

You cup his cheek. “Neither do I. But we both know what needs to happen. I can’t stay.”

He caresses your hand on his cheek with bereft eyes. “You changed me, you know?”

You laugh dryly. “With your gig at the BAU? Forget it, you’ll be saving people left and right.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice cracks. “I’m just sorry we couldn’t have more time. I think this could have been something.”

“Did you read the note?” He shakes his head. “Wait until I’m gone to read it - you don’t have to. But if you ever find yourself doubting or second-guessing who you were to me - who you are to me? You should read that. It has everything you’ll need to know.”

He brings his forehead to yours, glassy eyes watching you with so much affection you think you might just break. “Can we stay here? Just for a minute? I’m not ready to let you go yet.” He asks.

You nod and loop your arms around his neck, tiptoeing to reach his height. He hugs you back with ferocity, face burying in the crook of your neck as he takes you in, memorises the way you body slots against his, how you smell and feel. He presses his eyes shut, willing his brain to commit every last feeling to memory, terrified that there may come a day when he no longer remembers how he loves you.

You muffle your sobs as best as you can, clutching at the material of his shirt, and the small tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. Try as you might, when you close your eyes, all you can see is a reel of your relationship with Aaron, spanning from the moment you met to now.

All of it comes rushing back: the gazebo, your apartment, numerous late night coffees and dinners, his face in the cabin, the hospital and of course, the nights and days you spent in bed. The pond, the balcony, the laughter. The love. You feel a hole consuming your chest and you struggle to breathe, cursing yourself for falling in love with the one man you couldn’t possibly ever have.

James beeps from inside the towncar, and you reluctantly loosen your grip on Aaron, sniffling as you let him go. It feels infinitely harder to detangle yourself from him now, like tearing a bandage off of a raw wound, but you know you need to go.

And so does he.

His eyes are watery when you look at him, yours mirroring his heartbreak. “I guess this is it.” He rasps.

You clear your throat. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Can I kiss you goodbye?”

You nod solemnly. His hands cup your cheeks lovingly, wiping away a stray tear. He leans in, and presses his lips to yours for the last time. He takes his time, allowing himself to linger in the moment, and convey everything he can in this kiss without having to say it. Wants to remember how soft your lips are and the way you taste.

Your tears fall steadily now, your own hands tangling in his hair. You selfishly wish you could stay here, throw away any and all integrity just to keep him for yourself. But you both have things to do, futures to live.

You break the kiss, forehead resting against his. His hand cradles the back of your head, and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, lips lingering before he finally lets go.

You fish in your pocket and take his hand in yours, dropping your key into his palm. He looks at you quizzically. “Keep it, give it to the super, I don’t mind. But lock up for me?” You ask him.

He nods, closing his hand around yours, a desperate attempt to keep you close for a few more fleeting moments. He presses a desperate kiss laced with finality on your lips as you release yourself from his embrace.

Watching you reach for the car door sends him into a tailspin. You’re just about in the car when you hear him call your name. His voice is strained. “Listen, I just- before you go. There’s something I need to tell you.” His face is contorted with desperation and his voice laced with something utterly heartbroken.

You know where he’s going with this. You weren’t sure if he felt it until now, horrible fucking timing, but it’s still something.

“Don’t. I know what you’re going to say, Aaron. Please don’t.” You sob. “This is already one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, please don’t make it harder. I know what you’re going to say. But before you do… just please don’t?” You plead.

He swallows thickly, choking back tears, too. “I do, though.”

You breathe through the hole in your chest. “I know, Aaron. I do, too.” Your smile is bitter as you open the car door and step inside gingerly, keeping your eyes on the sidewalk where he stands. He walks over to you, tangles your fingers with his briefly before cradling your chin, wiping another stray tear.

“Maybe in another life?” He whispers.

“Maybe in another life.” You tell him with a sad smile.

“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

I love you.

“Goodbye, Aaron.”

I love you.

He watches the car peel away longingly, muttering aloud the words that he’d whispered two nights ago when he thought you were asleep.

“I love you.”

———

09:15

Your car pulls up to the airstrip forty-five minutes later and you can hear the deafening engine of the plane before you even step out of the car. You place a $50 in the hand of the man who opens your door for you, throwing a quick thank you his way as you obscure your puffy eyes with a pair of sunglasses.

You offer the men loading your luggage a small smile and hand them their tips, before boarding the plane. You spot Emily on the far left side of the plane, her face buried in a copy of Mother Night.

When she sees you, she shoots up from her seat, throwing her book onto the table in front of her. “Oh my God! You came! Hi!” Her good arm wraps around your neck for a hug and you stiffen against her. “What made you change your mind?” She asks.

You close your mouth just as soon as you open it when the curtain dividers open.

“Darling!” Ambassador Prentiss emerges from her office, behind a divider on the plane. She has a phone receiver against her chest, you assume to muffle her voice to whoever is on the other end. “Emmy and I are so glad you decided to join us, we’ll be taking off in around 15 minutes.” She tells you, glancing at her watch.

You shoot her a polite smile and thank her, and she looks between you and Emily, excusing herself back to her office.

“I’ll let you girls catch up.”

Emily leads you to the seat opposite her, her face now showing signs of concern. She watches your face for an answer but when nothing comes, she asks outright.

“What happened? I thought you were going to stick around and see what happens? You had a date right? Her words scratch your skin.

“Date’s off.” You swallow.

Her eyes widen. “What? Why?!”

“His ex is pregnant and it’s his.” You reply nonchalantly, rapidly blinking back tears behind your sunglasses.

Her mouth drops open. “Holy shit! Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” You reply, gazing out of the window.

Emily watches you in shock, unsure of what to say. She can tell by your demeanour that you’re in shock but she can’t do anything except hold your hand and tell you she’s sorry with a quiet voice.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

———

09:00

When he keys open your apartment door, he’s hit with an eerie silence, a heart wrenching emptiness. He attempts to turn a lamp on but the electricity has been turned off, leaving the living room cold and dark.

His mind fills in the spaces between the emptiness, picturing you sitting on your couch, or on the bar stools around your island. Can hear the incessantly loud TV, and your laughter from your room.

Your room is just as empty too, a few stray clothes hangers remain in the wardrobes and when he turns to look out at your balcony, he swears he sees your shadow outside. He makes sure the doors and windows are secure and makes his way back to your living room, the entire experience harrowing, like walking through a graveyard of memories.

His legs give out as he walks back to the living room, sinking onto the couch. A picture of you catches his eye on the side table next to him, the same one he’d caressed gently when you’d been taken by Jordan. He’d thought then, that was the worst moment of his life, had he known what was to come, he’d have reserved his judgement.

He swallows the lump in his throat as he gently brushes a finger over the glass, unable to keep the tears from coming now. He wishes with everything you could have stayed, can feel it deep within him that you’ll keep a part of his heart for years to come. Then he remembers the note.

He opens the folded paper with trembling hands.

‘Dearest Aaron,

I sit in your living room right now, struggling for the words to write but I can’t seem to come up with anything that truly encapsulates how I feel. How I’m incredibly sorry to have to leave like this, how I wish with everything in me that I didn’t have to, I wish this could have ended differently.

I want to say thank you. You may not know or understand this, but for all the good and bad, you truly changed my life. I met you during the darkest and scariest part of my life, when I had nobody - when I was all alone. And in you came like a light and protected me fiercely, taught me everything I needed to save my life. You did that.

You saved me.

You changed me.

Despite the circumstances, we did have something, a friendship, maybe the start of something more - something real. Don’t ever doubt that. The last two days were two of the best of my life, a fitting reward, I thought, after everything I’d been through. But I couldn’t let you talk me into staying, because I know you, and you would have tried, told me that we could’ve worked something out - and it would’ve been selfish of me to stay.

I want you to know that I am so incredibly happy for you. This wasn't an easy decision, but I’m leaving of my own choice. I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be an amazing father. That child will be loved and oh so lucky to have you and your warmth as a father. I know how much this means to you, how important it is for you to give your child a better life than the one you and Sean had.

And you will.

Thank you for everything you did for me, thank you for saving me over and over again. Thank you for teaching me to be brave, and for coming into my life. My hope for you is that you’ll build a wonderful life with your beautiful little family and achieve everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

You’ll change the world one day.

Know that I will always have a special place for you in my heart.

I’ll never forget you.

All my love.’

He swallows the burning in his chest. Two days were all he had with you and he stupidly saw himself able to imagine a future with you, could imagine loving you for the rest of his life - but then he’d been in love with you long before you’d asked him to stay.

He winces as something digs into his chest and he reaches for his inside jacket pocket until something cold makes contact with his fingers.

His heart stops, molten lava running through his veins.

Your necklace.

He grips it until the sharp edges of the pendant feel like they’re about to puncture his skin.

Maybe he wasn’t destined for peace, for love. The love that he wanted. Maybe a happy ending wasn’t written for him and he’d have to make peace with that. At least he had the memory of your face burnt into his brain, the smell of your hair, the sound of your laughter.

That finite part of you would get him through eternity.

———

20:00

You’ve rejected every meal you’ve been offered by the staff aboard the plane, instead choosing to down Emily’s bottle of red wine. It eases the heaviness in your head, that’s true but the ache in your chest still remains.

Emily’s since drifted off to sleep, her book laying open against her stomach, meal half-eaten. You stare at the blinking lights of the plane and the clouds below you until everything starts to blur.

You love him. He loves you. That much is true. You never had believed in the concept of the right person but the wrong time, how could you? If the person was right, the timing would surely be inconsequential.

That was until you met Aaron.

In this life, in the grey harsh reality, after everything you had been through with him, the simple fact that two people love one another pales in comparison to the bloody reality of commitments, matters of the mind and sacrifice.

He loves you and you love him. It just isn’t enough.

He aches for you and you ache for him. But it’s still just out of reach.

Your hearts aren’t your own anymore. But you have to go on anyway.

———

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