#so most of her relationships fizzled out

[palettepainter]

I know Cementoss is such a side character but I am unwell for his dynamic with Chikara

[suffercerebral]

it's okay if you have 0 rizz, you can pull a bad bitch by being autistic

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

.

[hollowdeath]

obsession (hjp)

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: harry potter (19) is attending university after hogwarts, and isn't recovering well from the war. completely alone, harry soon grows attached to you, the girl from his potions class. however, his attachment quickly turns to obsession, and harry isn't sure how much longer he can be just friends.

content warning: smut!!! perverted thoughts/acts, shame, masturbation, stalking, obsession, yearning/pining, intoxication, jealousy, stealing panties, dry humping, cumming in pants, oral sex, overstimulation, penetration, creampie

a/n: sooo i wrote over 19k words in like 2 days. but i haven't written a proper fanfic in literal years so please be kind. heavilyyy inspired by "never have i ever" from @selfcarecap , please go read it when you have the chance!! this is very much a SLOW BURN, do not proceed if you do not thoroughly enjoy pining…ft. a shy, inexperienced, slightly obsessive university student harry who has jealousy issues and perverted tendencies but is still such a complete gentleman…some of this might not be book/movie accurate…sue me...

song: Do Friends Fall In Love? - Rachael & Vilary

harry's expectations of university weren't very high to begin with, but he didn't expect it to be this shit.

there were limited options for him since he had no desire of leaving the U.K. to further his career as an auror. and since the only 2 schools that offered a program for him were either an old, run-down campus in the middle of nowhere or an overpopulated city school known for its infamously average quidditch team, his decision wasn't difficult.

the dorms, however, made him reconsider entirely.

though harry was grateful to have a solo room, it was entirely bleak and smelled vaguely of mildew. one tiny window he's unable to open past a few inches and a depressing overhead fluorescent bulb was enough to have him searching the other university's dormitory information, only to be just as disappointed with the result.

harry gets over it quickly, as it becomes fitting to his mental state at the time. plain, cold, and unforgiving, harry feels like it's what he deserves to live in after everything he's seen.

to say harry hadn't been doing well after the war was a criminal understatement. his whole life had been leading up to and dedicated towards killing voldemort before he killed harry first. in that time, he held a purpose and drive to fulfill everyone's expectations of him. and, once he did, he was left with nothing.

voldemort had consumed harry's entire life, and the lives of everyone around him as well. though they technically both died, harry had the choice to live again. after he made that choice, he was never the same.

the relationships around him were changed forever. he lost friends. he lost family. he lost himself. and yet, life continued.

applying for university felt so silly to harry at the time. he had just fought in a war and died, and now he had to sign up for 9 a.m. transfiguration classes. to say he was uninterested was putting it lightly.

it didn't help that he knew no one there. it was nobody's first choice school by any means, and it didn't exactly have the best reputation. his classmates fizzled out into other schools or already had jobs, like ron…

ron and hermione. seems like lately wherever hermione went, ron followed. of course she got accepted into some of the most prestigious schools of magic in the world, with some practically begging her to pick them over the others.

in the end she chose westminster, a legendary university along the northern ireland coast that saw many great members of the ministry in its time. harry's school was practically the furthest it could've been from her all things considered.

ron worked for the ministry office in the area like his father, though he was more like an assistant or secretary than an active member. still, he was paid well and ultimately he and hermione were able to find a place near both of their priorities that worked well for them.

harry knew he wouldn't see them very often at this point. no matter, his relationship with them had long since changed, and not for the better. ron had lost his brother and hermione had lost her parents. once the calm settled after the storm, there was a lingering tension between him and them that went unmentioned for over a year before they split ways silently.

harry still talked to hermione towards the end, mainly to discuss ron and his grief. harry knew the growing coldness between him and his friend wasn't unjustified. harry felt a level of guilt that he previously thought was impossible when it came to fred, and though ron never out right blamed harry, it was just never the same between them.

harry knew their relationship wasn't completely at a loss. like hermione told him, it just needed time. once they both process what happened they can always come back to each other.

but for now, harry was alone. completely and utterly alone.

his first day of classes were confusing, boring, and packed with students. seriously, every seat in every lecture hall was filled, and the hallways were just a mess. the sidewalks weren't much better with too many people being too loud, walking too slow or too fast. in the end, harry was exhausted by the time he showed up for his last class of the day.

another packed room despite his effort to be there earlier than he planned. rather than a lecture hall like all his other classes that day, this last one was set up with plenty of tables and cauldrons. potions. harry loved this class at hogwarts. as his eyes scanned the room for an empty seat, he felt eyes fixated on him from every direction.

though he looks like the same harry potter everyone's read about, he's completely different now. his once bright eyes and radiant smile have been replaced with eye bags and unkempt facial hair. both his short beard and his overgrown hair gave him a messy, disheveled appearance that was rougher than people remember. but, as always, the glasses had never left, and neither had his scar.

ignoring the curious glances and whispers, harry takes a seat towards the middle of the room at an empty table. as more students filed in, his table became the last place to sit. he couldn't help but feel like an outsider, his first day and he already had a reputation.

as the final bell rings, the last student comes walking through the doorway.

it's you.

you're walking quickly, rushing into the classroom just as the ringing of the bell comes to an end. right behind you is the professor, a man of small stature with an impressive beard yet bald head.

"ms. [y/l/n]." he simply states.

you stop in your tracks, a look of defeat crossing your face as you slowly turn to him.

"professor rodden." you respond cheerfully. "it's nice to see you."

he looks unimpressed with your tone.

"we should try to be a bit more punctual next class period, hm?" he asks condescendingly.

harry is taken aback by the immediately intense interaction between the two of you. there's clearly an established relationship there that doesn't seem to be positive.

he can't see the look on your face as your back is turned to him, but he can hear the forced smile in your voice as you cordially respond, "of course. my apologies."

you turn on your heel, facing harry as you quickly find your seat across from him at his table. with all eyes on you, harry looks away and at the front of the room towards professor rodden.

rodden had an indistinguishable look on his face about the situation, but quickly moved on with introducing the class. as he shut the door and began writing on the board, harry took a moment to look back at you.

somewhere in that time you had pulled out a book and ink pen as you began taking notes. your hair fell around your face as you concentrated on your penmanship; a slight furrow of your brows and pursing of your lips.

you were gorgeous. he couldn't deny it.

something about the way you got lost in your notes was so mesmerizing to him. the intense exchange between you and the professor seemed to have no effect on you as you continued to scrawl your thoughts onto parchment. harry couldn't imagine himself being so calm as to just begin jotting down notes immediately after such a conflict.

his eyes flickered from your concentrated expression to your ferociously moving hand, writing line by line in succession without so much as a second's pause. he had to admit he was impressed with you, but he wasn't quite sure how to describe it.

finally, you felt his curious gaze on you.

looking up at him, harry's struck with how beautiful your eyes were. his heart jumps along with his stomach, he's never had such a physical reaction to someone's features before. you're just, so…right. like everything about you just makes sense together.

harry's used to people recognizing him pretty quickly, mostly before he even sees them first. it almost feels like having a big sign taped to his back that says "harry potter, the boy who lived twice". but, you…you just looked at him. simply looking, nothing more.

he felt so see-through at that moment, like you were looking right past him. he could feel his heart thumping, and would be surprised if you couldn't hear it for yourself.

you give him the most casual smile in the world, barely an acknowledgement of his existence in that moment, and yet it fills him with something entirely warm and familiar. he's sure he looks completely lost staring at you, turning his head at the last moment to relieve you of his gaze.

it's a simple, introductory, first day of class. you're all let out half an hour early with no assignment other than to show up for the next, real class on wednesday.

as you're packing up to leave, harry is back and forth between introducing himself to you or letting you leave. surely you'll talk to him at some point during this class, right? especially if no one else seems to sit with you two for the rest of the semester.

but, as you turn your back to him to leave, he makes the split second decision that he can't let you leave without a proper introduction.

quickly gathering his books, harry follows you out the door along with the ridiculous amount of students flooding the halls. scrambling for a reason to talk to you, harry catches up to your left side as you look over at him with surprise.

"how does rodden have it out for you already, hm?"

it's a genuine question he has, but he's not sure it's a great topic to bring up during your first interaction.

looking up at him as you both walk away from the classroom, your cheeks go red as you chuckle dryly to yourself and look away. "oh, arthur?" you ask.

harry's shocked. not just at the way you're looking at him, but the boldness of calling your university professor by their first name so casually. he doesn't know how to respond.

"he's a total wanker," you say with a smirk. "had him 3 semesters in a row now and he just…ugh," you groan, rolling your eyes. harry is even more at a loss. he's surely never called anyone a wanker, let alone a professor, but he can't help himself from laughing at your frustration.

"oh? what's so bad about him?" harry asks as he continues to follow you outside, a cool breeze blowing your hair back in the most cinematic moment harry's ever experienced in real life. as you look up at him, your eyes catch the sunlight and practically melt him on the spot. his breathing hitches at your shy smile and rosy cheeks, and he just couldn't understand how a human could look like that so casually.

"honestly, he's not so bad. he's actually quite a good professor…" you say with a twinge of guilt, turning to look ahead of you. "he just doesn't like me, i guess. we don't see eye to eye, to put it kindly." you laugh it off.

harry doesn't understand. you seem like such a pleasure to be around, and he's only known you these past few minutes. how could anyone dislike you? especially when they're looking into those eyes.

he continues to walk with you, asking about your classes and what your schedule's like. no other classes together, to harry's disappointment, but it's because you're a year above him.

"wow, have any advice for a first year, then?" he asks. it feels like a bit of a silly question, but he just wants to keep talking to you.

you chuckle, like you do after everything he says. he's not sure what to make of it, hoping it's that you truly do find him that funny. "well, i guess i would just tell you to study constantly, keep to yourself, but don't take any shit." you smirk at him again.

he likes that advice. he can already tell you're the type to not let anyone push you around, like with rodden. he likes that about you. you're a bit more confident than him, and you're not afraid to be bold despite your naturally sweet, gentle nature. you're funny, witty, intelligent, and, of course, unbelievably beautiful.

harry just keeps coming back to it through your walking and talking together. every time he looks at you he instantly loses his place in time. it's like everything goes quiet for just that split second that you're looking at him. he's never felt like this, but he's practically addicted to the feeling after the 10 minutes it took for him to walk you to your next class.

before parting ways, he asks for your name. "well, it's nice to meet you then, [y/n]. i'm–" "harry, right?" you ask sarcastically, giving him a cheeky smile. normally that answer would have left him defeated, you already knowing who he was, but for some reason, it didn't feel so bad this time. you never acted like you knew him once this whole conversation. you just let him talk and ask questions without feeling like he was anyone special.

well, of course he felt special. when you looked at him, that is.

he didn't want to let you leave, it physically hurt him to say goodbye. but he wasn't about to creep you out already. no, he had to make a good impression with you. so, he simply turned around and walked away, knowing he would see you again soon.

and as harry walked to his potions class that next wednesday, he had the biggest pep in his step he's had in a while. you'd think there was a tree full of presents waiting for him in that classroom the way he practically jogged through the maze of people between him and you.

as soon as he walked in, he saw you.

how could you get even more beautiful than you were before? he's actually taken aback for a moment as he makes eye contact with you. his heart is so loud in his ears it's deafening. as he slowly makes his way towards the table left for you two, he can't help the goofy smile that spreads across his lips.

"[y/n]." he says, letting it roll of his tongue. you smile warmly at him, your eyes softening. "harry. it's nice to see you again," you chirp.

he's just mesmerized by you yet again, the way you say his name is like a song he never wants to turn off. he's pretty much in complete awe of you as he sits across from your seat.

you chat a bit before class starts, an introduction to your first experiment. professor rodden explains that each table of four will split into partners for each assignment. as harry instinctively looks at you, he's already meeting your eager gaze.

he can't help it when he smiles like a fool at you. he can just hardly believe someone as amazing as you would want to spend even more time with him.

after class, you gush to harry about how excited you are to be potion partners together. his face completely flushes as he tries to return the sentiment, thanking whatever luck he has in this universe to be deserving of this opportunity to be with you all semester, twice a week at least, not including outside studying and walking you to your next class.

that night, after exchanging numbers with you to "discuss class", he finds himself staring at the number you scrawled on a ripped piece of notebook paper along with your name. he just holds it for a while, tracing the curves of your name with his eyes. you're just so amazing to him in every little way.

weeks later, harry is a wreck.

you see, he's become, well…completely obsessed with you. every moment he spends awake is spent thinking about you. in the midst of hours-long homework sessions or mind-numbingly long exams, all he wants to do is think about you.

you two have become increasingly close over time, figuring out your commonalities and learning about each other's interests. you invited him to your dorm and he was amazed at your ability to dress up such a desolate space. it felt warm, inviting, and quickly became a common place for you two to spend your time together.

you also bonded over food, and would often meet up for lunches or dinners and sometimes even breakfast if you were up early enough to respond to his calls.

and you two were always studying together, you really inspired him to stay on top of his classes not only to keep up with you but to also impress you. he really admired your work ethic as a second year and would always ask for your help with assignments.

of course it was nice to have help, but he mainly just wanted you to sit closer to him, your breath hitting his cheek as you explained something complicated to him in your soft voice, pointing at the book that sat in his lap. you could read the most boring textbook to him and make it sound like the most interesting piece of literature in the world.

a lot of things he did were mostly just an excuse to have you pay attention to him in some way. if he felt a bit unwell, he'd play it up a bit to get your sympathy and a back rub. he still gets the most insane goosebumps thinking about your hands all over him.

if he was hungry, he was suddenly starvinggg and needed one of your amazing grilled cheese's made in the student common room kitchen. you would roll your eyes every time, reminding him that you don't do anything special to it, but he insists it's better because you make it specifically for him.

in short, he was head over heels for you. he pretty much knew that first day you two met that he was already smitten with you, but it took a while for him to fully realize just how deep he'd gotten himself into this.

not only had he learned your entire class schedule without asking you directly, he knew your schedule outside of class as well. not through any disrespectful tactics, he just so happened to always study at the library next to your dorm building with a perfect view of the door you go in and out of.

he also knew who all of your friends were, at least the ones he's seen you with so far. it's not difficult when the university yearbook practically gives away their books for free to get rid of them. that's also how he found out what clubs and organizations you're apart of, and knew exactly what to ask you to get you to talk about them with him.

see, some might see this and think harry's a bit creepy or overstepping some boundaries. and harry would agree.

he constantly feels guilty when it comes to his feelings for you. he's a complete gentleman when he's with you, but then he turns around and becomes this incessant stalker who needs to know what you're doing at all times.

that's not even the worst part. he feels so, so incredibly guilty about the thoughts he has of you.

harry's not one to feel shame from lust or masturbation, he doesn't have much experience with that stuff anyways so he never really understood the hype around it.

but now, things are different.

he's had random erections before, and he's gotten riled up from previous makeout sessions, but now, he was constantly horny.

all it took was an innocent look from you and he was hard. you often sat in your bed with him as you two studied and insisted on having a leg or arm touching him at all times, which made him completely hot and bothered. certain tones of voice you use or things you say to him can completely melt his brain on the spot.

this isn't meant to brag, harry felt truly awful for these one-sided thoughts. he felt like such a stereotypical man who thinks with his dick. the last thing he wanted was to make you think he saw you in a sexual way at all; he hated your stories about guys who only turned out to be sex fiends with no respect towards you. his blood boiled to think about it, actually, and swore to himself he would always be your friend first despite what he may feel towards you.

this is where the guilt was heaviest. you were constantly saying he was your best mate, one of your closest friends, someone you can really trust, and he held that so close to his heart. above all else, he cared about you so deeply. he wanted to keep you safe.

so when he started to think these thoughts or feel these feelings, harry beat himself up. how could he truly be a good friend to you if he was just so obsessed with you in every way?

you two had just finished up the last steps of your potion experiment for professor rodden's class in the library that harry frequented by your dorm building. as you and harry are talking and packing up to leave, you look out the wall of windows and laugh.

"hey, look. you can see my dorm perfectly from here." you say, pointing towards your building. harry freezes, feeling his mind go blank as you look back at him with a laugh. "little creepy," you say with a smirk, lifting your bag over your shoulder and the rest of your books in your arms.

harry is still frozen, terrified you're going to somehow figure out that that's exactly what he's been doing for the past month now.

"yeah, weird." is all he managed to get out.

as he walks you into your dorm, he barely has the door closed before you start taking your shirt off right in front of him, not even 3 feet away.

harry immediately turns around, letting the door close in front of him. "oh, sorry." he quickly mutters, his heart racing yet again. he didn't even see anything crazy, just the small of your back and the navy of your bra, but it was enough to immediately get him worked up.

he hears you laugh behind him, opening up your drawer. "you don't have to turn around, harry. i'm just changing my shirt." he can hear the smirk in your voice.

he's dumbfounded. all he's thought about for weeks is your body in front of him, and it's right here, and he can't bring himself to look. he feels each second pass by painfully slow, trying to answer himself as to why the fuck he's not turning around.

"okay, you can turn around now." you laugh as you roll your eyes at him. he slowly turns to you with an undoubtedly pale face and shocked expression.

you're standing at your drawer, new shirt fully on, and he can't help but feel a bit disappointed. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by watching, but you seemed okay with it. he's a bit lost in his feelings before you start asking him about something completely irrelevant, taking his mind off the mini-show he just got for free.

that night he's lying in bed, room completely dark except his bedside lamp, and he's thinking of you. like always.

as he replays the moment you took your shirt off right in front of his eyes, he finds himself grabbing for his cock without even meaning to. his hand wraps around the shaft as he begins thrusting his hips, imagining it's your hand like he has so many times before. it only takes a few seconds of stroking and thinking about your blue bra before he's made a mess of himself.

cleaning up afterwards was always the most guilt-ridden part of the entire experience. it was bad enough he thought of you sexually and constantly got hard just from you looking at him or calling him a loser as a joke, but to actually jerk off to the idea of you is something else entirely.

he tried not to get too down about it, plenty of guys do this right? whats so wrong with it if it doesn't affect his relationship with you?

except, it does. harry doesn't know how much longer he can go without telling you how he feels. the guilt he feels every time you refer to him as your best friend, not knowing he spends almost every night cleaning up his own cum off his chest just from thinking about your smile. how would you feel finding out your so-called best friend had these perverted thoughts about you?

as harry falls asleep, he hugs his pillow and pretends its you, asleep in his arms, completely safe.

it's halloween, and harry's never been more excited.

you enthusiastically asked if you could do a matching costume with him, and he'd never been so quick to agree. wearing a matching costume with you to a university party was possibly the first step in becoming a real couple. he wasn't necessarily thrilled about going to a party, but he knew if he was with you he would enjoy himself no matter what.

you couldn't decide what you two should be until harry suggested pirates as a joke.

"oh my gosh, harry! that's perfect!" you said with a huge smile. harry laughed at you, shaking his head. "really? i was kidding." he deadpanned. you narrowed your eyes at him. "yes, really! i think it'd be so cute. and i have the perfect top."

harry gets excited once you say it's cute, and is just happy to be included in your plans.

you take harry shopping just a few days before the party to find pirate-like clothes and end up with a good collection of stuff. at the last minute, harry pays for everything you bought and you give him the biggest, warmest hug he's ever gotten.

yeah, that was enough for him to know this was worth it.

the night of the party, harry feels a bit ridiculous walking up to your dorm in such a billowy white button up and the most uncomfortable, oversized pants he's ever worn. to top it all off his bandana didn't look right on his head, so he embarrassingly knocked on your door and waited for your reaction to his failure of a costume.

when you opened the door, he was stunned into silence.

you were just. so. hot.

your hair was loose around your face under a perfectly tied bandana, an off-the-shoulder white top similar to his worn over a red lace bra, along with ripped fish net stockings under a tied skirt and, shit, a fucking garter wrapped around your thigh.

to say he was insanely turned on and completely stunned by your beauty was an understatement. he couldn't believe this gorgeous woman in front of him was dressed like this to match with him at a party in front of everyone. he just couldn't stop staring at you up and down, not caring if you noticed him practically drooling over you.

"you look so cute!" you exclaimed at the sight of harry standing at your door.

he looked up at you, your soft eyes wide with excitement as you clasped your hands together. you motioned for harry to come in and opened the door further for him. he slid past you into your dorm room, intentionally breathing in your scent as he did, and practically fell apart at the seams. he was so, so attracted to you right now.

"but, let me fix that bandana." you say with a giggle. he turns around and you're already reaching for his head. his breath gets caught in his throat as your arms wrap around his head, retying the bandana tightly just below his hairline. you pull away a bit and smile at him before looking down at his shirt, reaching for that as well.

harry carefully watched your fingers begin to unbutton his white shirt, his world stopping in its tracks in this moment. he was so lost until you said, "gotta show off the chest hair."

as you continue to adjust his shirt with the top buttons undone, he can't help but admire your body and outfit from this angle, this close. everything worked together so well on you, and fit you perfectly in every spot. he felt like such a joke standing next to you, who could ever compare to such a goddess like yourself?

on your way to the party just outside of campus, you felt chilly in just a skirt and cropped top. harry noticed instantly. "cold?" he asks. you nod, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you start to shiver. harry instinctively wraps an arm around you before he can even process what he's doing. "uh, is this any better?" he inquires.

you look up at him with those damn eyes, and he's lost once again. "a lot better." you say sweetly.

at the party, you stick with him for a bit until a few friends pull you away to do some shots. he gives you a reassuring smile as he tells you to go, and he watches your barely-covered ass as you run along.

and so do a few other guys.

harry notices at least 3 guys around him who watch you leave, and at least one of them makes some snide comment about you to a buddy. his blood boils like he's never felt before. he could feel himself tensing up as he imagined what he would do to them if they ever tried to touch you.

harry takes a deep breath and finds a bathroom, running some water over his face to calm down. you were not his girlfriend. not even close. but he felt like any other guy who looked at you was looking at what was his. he was there for you 24/7, he knew your favorite everything, he saw how beautiful you were in all your states, not just dressed up at some costume fraternity party, and though that gives him no right over you, he just couldn't help but feel protective over someone who means so much to him.

you find each other again at some point during the party, and you're a bit drunk. harry finds it somewhat amusing at first, but quickly hates the way those guys are looking at you again. so, he wraps your arm around his waist, tells you it's time to go home, and you mindlessly abide.

on the way home he's completely in awe at the feeling of your arm wrapped around his waist, and his around your shoulder. he felt like you looked like a proper couple, matching costumes and all, and he loved that thought.

as he walked you into your room, you immediately began stripping off your accessories. he was caught in that same predicament he found himself in not too long ago. does he casually let you unclothe in front of him or turn around and give you the privacy you deserve?

he quickly decided on the latter and turned away, making sure the door was locked for your privacy. you started giggling infectiously, stumbling around behind him. "you ok?" he asked with a smirk, amused at the sound of you struggling.

"no, need helppp," you whine, slurring your words slightly while still giggling. harry freezes. he hadn't even considered that you might be too drunk to get undressed by yourself. he's even more conflicted than before.

"m-my help?" he asked. obviously he knew the answer, he just didn't feel right taking your clothes off of you while you were intoxicated. "well duhh…" you giggled, taking another stumbling step behind him.

what should he do? if he says no you might feel like he's annoyed with you or doesn't want to help you out, when that couldn't be further from the truth.

before he can make a decision, you turned him around, his eyes landing on your glazed over eyes.

you had taken off the bandana and gotten your shirt partially off before asking harry for help. he's a bit startled to see you half dressed in front of him, but he quickly makes the decision to be professional and friendly about this situation.

he helps you take off your shirt the rest of the way, and unties your skirt around your waist. harry tries to divert his eyes as he does so to give you the most privacy possible in this moment, though his mind was pushing the most sinful thoughts he could muster.

his hands were shaky as he put both your skirt and top in the laundry, not even noticing how hard and fast his heart was beating until he took a moment to breathe.

just behind him, he hears you take a seat on your mattress. "can you take my shoesss pleaseee," you whine, sticking your left heel in the air towards harry.

the sight that beholds him in this moment is unholy.

you, practically naked except for your underwear and fishnet stockings, pointing a bright red heel at him with a pouty face as you wait for his help. he could devour you whole right here, right now. the fact that he hasn't kissed you yet tonight honestly had harry impressed with himself.

he nervously swallowed before reaching for your shoe, carefully sliding it off your foot as you gracefully lift the other leg towards him. he takes that heel as well and sets them next to your other shoes. he reaches in your closet for a big, comfy t-shirt and turns around to give it to you.

he sees you on your back, rolling around on the mattress, struggling to get your fishnets off, laughing to yourself as they get tangled on your legs. harry cant help but laugh at you as well, your carefree intoxicated state was just so adorable to him.

harry briefly helps you out of the stockings before handing you the t-shirt. "here, is this okay to sleep in?" he asks, putting the stockings on your dresser. "yeah!" you say cheerfully. "thanks, harryyy," you coo. harry immediately blushes, the way you carried out his name just made his heart sing. he was so lucky to be this close to you.

"gotta take this off," you say, pulling at the straps of your bra. harry nods and turns away. you giggle softly, grabbing for his hand. he turns to you in shock, looking down at your hand as you stand up from the bed.

"help me?" you ask seductively.

harry is frozen. are you meaning to be so overtly flirty right now? is this a bit from the alcohol? are you about to start laughing him off and put the shirt on anyway?

but you don't, you just patiently wait for his answer with puppy dog eyes. he glanced between you and the t-shirt in your hand, clearly a worried look taking over his expression.

"you don't have to," you say softly. that snaps harry out of his daze. "n-no, of course i'll help," he says eagerly. you smile again and turn around, gathering your hair to one side to get it out of the way for him.

harry has never been so aroused in his life. this is the most intimate he's ever been with anyone. he's never unclasped a bra before, and worries he's about to make a fool of himself in front of the most beautiful girl in the world.

but he soon figures it out and manages to unclasp it for you. "there you are," he assures you. you slowly turn around, your arms crossed in front of your chest as you hold the bra up. harry's completely infatuated with the delicious sight of you in front of him in this moment, but quickly diverts his gaze to an uninteresting part of the room.

"harry, do you want to see my boobs?"

harry snaps his head back at you with concern. his brows are furrowed and mouth agape. you have a genuine expression but your eyes are still a bit bloodshot.

"wh…what?" he choked out. he can't believe you asked that, even in this state. you've truly never showed interest in harry like this before, only subtle touches and looks that he interpreted how he wanted, but never anything like this.

well, unless you count the other day when you undressed near him.

but that was friendly, wasn't it? you were just changing, lots of friends change in front of each other. but this was completely different, you were purposefully exposing yourself to him. not only that, but you were asking him if you could, as if it wasn't the only thing he wanted in this moment.

"do you wanna see my boobs?" you ask again, giggling slightly.

harry blinks a few times, trying as hard as he can to not ogle over your body. this is all he's wanted, for months this is the only thing he's wanted, but right now just didn't feel right. you weren't fully aware of what you were doing or saying, and he couldn't, in good faith, continue further with this situation.

he carefully places his hands on your crossed arms, keeping them close to you as he talks.

"[y/n], you're drunk right now. and while i helped you get undressed, which was already a bit over the line, i don't want you to do something you'll regret."

you give him a look he can't quite decipher. your smile drops, your eyes focus, and your arms tense.

"i'm sorry," you say softly.

harry quickly reassures you. "don't be! seriously, don't be. i am so, so glad that you trust me enough to help you in this state. truly. it means the world to me, because i care about you so much." he gives you a warm smile.

you smile back at him. "then i hope you understand when i say i want to do this,"

you begin to pull your arms away from your chest, but harry is still holding them. he looks you in the eyes with worry, afraid of what you're about to do, yet more excited than he's been in a long time.

"but [y/n]..." he protests. "please?" you ask simply.

harry is reluctant, but he can tell you're going to be insistent, so he slowly lets go of your arms as you remove your bra from your body.

harry glances at your chest, his heart dropping. you're perfect.

perfect, perfect, perfect.

your skin looked so beautiful in the lowlight provided by your lamps and fairy lights. the curves of your boobs looked so soft and untouched. this was the first time harry was seeing tits in real life, and he was pretty sure this was the best they could possibly get.

he looks back up at your eyes, a shy smile spread across your expression. "beautiful…" harry whispers before he even realizes what he's saying.

you giggle, unfolding the shirt you handed him and swiftly pulling it over your head. "thanks, harry," you say so casually, turning around to make your bed so you can sleep in it.

he can hardly believe what's just happened. the girl of his dreams, the girl he'd practically been obsessed with for months, just willingly showed him her boobs for fun. though you were intoxicated and would most likely regret it tomorrow, hopefully not mad at him for letting it happen, he was still grateful that you felt that level of trust with him in any capacity.

what he wasn't grateful for, however, were these bloody pirate pants that gave him the most uncomfortable erection of his life. this was also definitely the hardest and most turned on he had ever been, so he's not sure if there's any comfort to be had in this moment anyway. while you focus on the bed, harry takes a step away and tries to calm himself down, thinking different thoughts to try and let the hornieness subside for just a bit longer.

as you plop into bed and begin getting comfortable, harry turns off a few lamps for you but keeps on the fairy lights in case you need the bathroom at any point.

"do you need anything before i head out, [y/n]?" he asks.

you sit up in your bed, a look of pain on your face.

"you're leaving me?"

harry is utterly heartbroken at the tone of your question. you sound so genuinely upset he immediately comes to comfort you, sitting on the edge of your mattress.

"oh, no, i-i won't if you don't want me to." he stumbles out. harry wasn't planning on staying, he was actually just imagining how good of a jerk he was about to have in 10 minutes, plus he's never technically stayed the night with you before. but he quickly pushes his perverted thoughts of you to the side and knows it's much more satisfying to him if he stays here and makes sure you're okay through the night.

you reach for the bandana that's still tied around his head and pull it off swiftly, leaving his hair disheveled. you throw it across the room with a laugh.

"sleepoverrrr" you cheer, patting the spot next to you on the bed. harry laughs with you, standing up and realizing he's still dressed as a pirate. "i didn't bring any clothes…" he says with a twinge of sadness.

you look at him confused. "you're a guy, just sleep naked." you say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. harry is a bit stunned at this statement but quickly laughs you off, going to your drawers to look for a pair of pants. besides, he's still slightly struggling with a situation in his boxers and being naked next to you wouldn't exactly help him out.

he eventually put together a shirt and pants combo that fit him comfortably enough to sleep in. "hope you don't mind," he says as he changes into them.

"not at all," you say, watching him change in the lowlight. there's something in your voice that makes harry feel feral, an overwhelming desire to just let go and release the tension between you two. at least, the tension he thinks is there.

he quickly gets dressed, setting his pirate clothes and glasses on your dresser as the sleep begins to settle into his bones. he crawls into bed next to you, and is quickly invited to join you under the covers. he's a bit reluctant at first, but realizes he doesn't have much of a choice as he starts getting cold.

within a few minutes of saying goodnight to each other, you and harry drift off to sleep together.

you're the first one awake, a splitting headache and dry mouth creating an unpleasant feeling immediately after opening your eyes. you rub the sleep away from them and reach for a glass of water on the nightstand next to you, sitting up a bit to sip slowly.

"good morning," a deep voice rumbles just beside you. you instinctively jump a bit before your brain quickly recognizes harry's tone and accent. as you turn to him, he's adorably disheveled wearing one of your university crewnecks under your blanket.

he smiles at you. he looks so different without his glasses on.

"morning, harry," you say groggily. the moment doesn't last long before another wave of your headache hits you, causing you to rub your forehead. you groan in pain. "what happened last night?"

harry's a bit frozen. this is exactly what he was afraid was going to happen. you don't remember anything from last night. he should've just dropped you off here and left right away, not even letting there be a chance of anything happening.

he's brought out of his thoughts when you look back down at him, a look of curiosity in your eyes as you continue to rub your head.

harry also sits up a bit before climbing out of bed, putting his glasses on from the top of your dresser.

"well…" he starts out nervously, scratching his head. "we went to the party," he says as he begins to stretch his back out.

"oh yeah, the party. we were definitely the best costumes there." you recall the night fondly. harry laughs nervously, worried about how you're going to react when you find out he undressed you and even saw you nearly completely naked in such an intoxicated state.

"right, yeah, of course." harry chuckles dryly. "but, um…at some point you left me and started drinking, so we didn't stay for long." he says carefully, his mind racing as he slowly, nervously paces between your bed and your dresser.

"classic," you chuckle, reaching for a hairbrush as you begin to comb through your knotty hair. "thanks for bringing me home, harry," you smile at him.

the guilt twists in his stomach like a knife, he can't believe how innocent you are. but he also can't believe what happened between you two last night, and just how eager you seemed for it to happen. he has to stop thinking about it before he gets turned on again.

"of course, [y/n], but, um…" he takes a deep breath before he continues. "you look cute in my jumper, by the way," you interrupt him, standing up from your bed as you begin to collect toiletries to take a shower.

his brain fogs from the compliment, but doesn't let it distract him from what he knows he has to tell you.

"well, thank you, but, um…" harry says with a blush.

you give him a confused look. "what's up?" you ask him. he's just going to come right out and say it.

"look, [y/n], i don't know if you remember, but…you asked me to help you get undressed last night because you were too drunk," he spits out, trying to immediately gauge your reaction before continuing. you just give him an even more confused look. "oh, well, thank you then. is that okay?" you ask incredulously.

harry stiffens. "yeah, um…i didn't mind helping, of course, it's just…" you giggle, opening the door to your en suite bathroom that's barely bigger than the shower within it. "harry, you're such a dork. do you actually feel bad for taking care of me when i was drunk?" you ask sarcastically as you set down various lotions and hair products onto the sink.

he cracks a small smile at you calling him a dork, but it doesn't last long. his heart settles a bit after hearing your positive outlook on the situation so far, but it doesn't stop completely.

"it's not that, um…but, uh, afterwards, you, well, kind of…" he awkwardly tried to find the words.

"you…showed me your boobs." not the most eloquent way of putting it.

your face goes pale. his stomach drops immediately.

"n-not by my request or anything!" he quickly reassures you (and himself). "it's just, i told you you might regret it, but you were insisting on doing it anyways…" he doesn't want to feel like he's blaming you when he was the sober one in charge.

"oh…" you say despondent, seeming lost in your thoughts as you search his expression. he gives you a moment to process what he's said. "yeah…" is all he manages to say.

you sigh. "i'm sorry, harry. it was wrong of me to force that on you." your apology is so sincere, and it immediately confused harry. force that on him? bloody hell. you really had no memory of just how much he enjoyed himself in that moment. harry's sure he looked like a kid at a candy shop just staring at your beautiful body in the warm light.

"what? no! i-i'm sorry i let that happen," he responds with a ridiculous tone. "i was the sober one, i should've tried harder to–""to what? stop a drunk girl from showing her tits? yeah, good luck with that one." you laugh, cracking a joke.

harry's nerves are much more calm. he's insanely grateful that you seem to be taking this news well and aren't angry with him.

"look, harry…" you start, adjusting your shirt around your shoulders. harry's been stealing glances of your delicious thighs and legs every so often as you talked.

"i'm really grateful for you. just in general, but for last night especially. you helped me out, and you were a complete gentleman, at least from what i can remember…" you joke with him. he cracks a smile too.

"so don't stress about it, yeah?"

harry lets out a breath of relief, physically feeling the weight of the situation lift from his shoulders. "yeah, of course. i'm really grateful you trust me like that." he's in awe of your grace in this moment.

you smile, stepping over to the laundry next to your dresser. you grab a shirt and some pants from your closet, and, before harry even realizes what you're doing, you drop your underwear you were wearing last night to your ankles, stepping out of them and walking towards the bathroom again.

"gonna shower for a bit," you inform him as you close the door behind yourself.

harry's left behind, staring at the door before returning his gaze to your panties.

they're red, much like your bra from last night, and he remembers taking note of them to keep in his fantasies later for accuracy. but now, here they were, just laying right in front of him.

he finds himself still staring at them when he hears you turn the shower on and step inside, closing the sliding glass door behind you. he looks at the door, and looks back at your panties.

for a while he just looks at them incredulously, not entirely sure why this specific detail has made him so irrationally horny. you were completely naked on just the other side of this wall, but he's practically mesmerized by the image of you casually sliding your red panties down your legs right in front of him like it wasn't the most erotic thing he's ever witnessed in his whole life.

before he knows it, the shower turns off. he's still left staring at your red panties. as he shifts his weight, he can see that they're a bit wet and slick in the light from you wearing them all night.

he can't take it anymore. his erection from last night has returned with a vengeance this morning. before harry could even realize what he's doing, he's picked up your underwear carefully, holding them between his fingers, your wetness still soaking through the cotton.

his heart is racing as he hears you brushing your teeth. what is he doing? if you caught him being perverted with your panties like this after just reassuring him that he wasn't in the wrong for what happened last night, he'd surely be on your bad side. but he can't stop himself.

he brings them to his face and takes a slow, deep inhale.

you smell completely divine. slightly sweet, slightly bitter. he gets goosebumps just thinking about how you must really smell. his erection is raging beneath your sweatpants he put on last night, feeling incredibly dirty from being so turned on by your used panties.

his stolen pleasure is too quickly interrupted by the sound of the bathroom doorknob jiggling. shit. as you're about to open the door, harry panics and shoves your panties into the pocket of his sweatpants.

you come out with freshly damp hair and raw skin. the wonderful smell of your shower products fill the room as you brush through your hair casually.

harry keeps a hand in his pocket over the panties so you don't have the chance of catching him, and to better conceal the raging boner that's not going away anytime soon.

you don't say anything as you place your toiletries back in their rightful spots, humming to yourself as you comb through your hair occasionally.

so casually beautiful, so effortlessly pristine. you amazed him every time with just how ethereal you could be at any given moment. a freshly clean angel fluttering around the room without a care in the world.

you begin complaining of your hangover headache and ask harry to get food with you. he's more than willing, his stomach already growling in response for him.

at breakfast, you sit in silence with harry as you both hungrily devour the pancakes you ordered. harry got you two glasses of orange juice to keep you hydrated after last night.

after a while, you inform him you have to go study, and he offers to help you. "thanks, but i can't be distracted. this exam is going to kick my ass." you complained to him. harry gave you a look. "i distract you?"

you laugh at him, leaving him at the lunch hall with a simple, "goodbye, harry. call me later."

when harry gets to his dorm room, he realizes he's still wearing your clothes. and, shit, he's still got your panties in his pocket.

harry slowly reaches for them, feeling a twinge of guilt and lust once his hand finds the fabric. pulling them out, he's in shock that he actually stole a pair of your panties. to be fair he didn't intend to, he just panicked and wasn't thinking straight.

but, now that he has them…

keeping the red lace hanging from his fingers, harry climbs into bed and begins to remember those unforgettable moments with you just the night prior. it doesn't take much to get him just as riled up as before, imagining the moments he was undressing you in slow motion. taking your heels off as you looked up at him with the most seductive eyes in the world. seeing the flesh of your breasts for the first time in the dim lighting, imagining how they'd feel in his rough hands. god, he feels so bad finding pleasure in these moments, but he physically can't resist it.

his hand is already wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking slowly as to savor the memories flashing through his brain. he's been aching for this release since seeing you in your costume last night, just another memory that brings him closer to the edge.

finally, he slowly brings your panties to his face. though they've since dried in his pocket during breakfast and the walk home, the lingering smell is still enough to drive him wild. he's breathing them in like it's oxygen and he's drowning.

just as he's nearing the end, he brings the panties to his other hand and begins stroking his cock with them. the sight alone is enough to break him, his cum spilling onto his hand and all over your red panties as images of your half naked body continue to infest his brain.

this time, the immediate guilt was the worst it'd ever been.

as he began to clean up, he realized just how much he ruined your panties in his excitement. his cum had soaked through the thin fabric and was already drying around it. he cursed himself for ruining such a sacred momento that he should've cherished, but also quickly cursed himself for thinking that way about you in the first place.

you even said yourself that harry was being a perfect gentleman last night. yeah, a gentleman with a raging erection the entire night who steals your used panties for his sick pleasure…

he continues to clean himself up, putting your panties in a safe place where nobody can find them and he won't lose them. even just the thought of them being in his possession was enough to get him riled up again.

it's the stressful time between thanksgiving and christmas where school has the two of you completely spread thin. harry's constantly writing essays while you seem to have endless lab experiments to finish for other classes. the one saving grace is your potions class together, twice a week. it's what kept harry sane during this chaotic time.

spending even just this short hour and 15 minutes with you is enough to fulfill harry. he hasn't properly hung out with you in nearly two weeks and was missing you like he was withdrawing.

sitting close to you to copy some notes about the potion you two are working on, harry admires your handwriting for the millionth time since he's met you. "i just don't understand how you write so well, i can barely read my own," harry jokes, holding out his notebook, making you laugh and blush.

the potion you're working on is one that allows the consumer to communicate with animals for a short period of time. it's rather complex, but harry helps you keep things organized and encourages you when you get frustrated.

"i just don't get it, how is it 3 drops and not 6? i swear it was 6 last week…" you groan, looking through your notes as you set down the tincture, rubbing your face, exasperated.

harry sets a reassuring hand on your arm. he's gotten pretty good at being more physical with you, and isn't afraid to touch you casually like you always have with him. "hey, [y/n], it's okay," he tells you, catching your eyes with his. "it's been a stressful week, yeah? just a mistake, no big deal."

you give harry that same, warm smile you delivered on your first day meeting him. he often looks back at that day fondly, forever grateful he got the sudden courage to talk to you after this class. not only were you now his closest friend, you were also the light of his life.

as harry finishes up, he hands you the round vial full of luminescent, purple potion. "here you are, test it out."

you take a small swig of it just as professor rodden makes his way to your and harry's table. next to the table is a bird's cage on a hook, with a sweet owl inside named jewel.

you make eye contact with the owl, and begin to speak. to you and everyone else it just sounds like regular english, but the owl begins to hoot and flap its wings at you immediately.

"hello, jewel, how are we feeling today?" you coo.

amazing, incredible, unbelievable! jewel's hoots become intelligible to your ear as you practically jump up and down with a huge smile on your face. "it worked, it worked!" you announced to harry, instinctively jumping in his arms for a hug as he spins you around excitedly.

"yes! you did it! see, i knew you could." harry exclaims, setting you down and giving you a toothy grin.

you look at jewel again, who is turning her head at you every which way. how nice, you and the boy! how sweet indeed! her loud hoots make the class silent as they watch you interact with her.

"what's she saying?" harry asks curiously. you give him a shy smile, feeling your face turn red. "she likes us." you're not totally lying.

"well, ms. [y/l/n], i must tell you i'm quite impressed. not just at how quickly you two perfected this potion, but of your performance this semester overall." professor rodden compliments you. he turns to harry. "i see mr. potter has been a positive influence on you this year."

harry quickly shuts him down. "actually, sir, if you don't mind me speaking out of turn, [y/n] has helped me way more this semester than i've helped her. she's brilliant."

professor rodden turns to you, a pale face and shocked expression, and gives you a smile. "well, then, hat's off to you, ms. [y/l/n]." he says, bowing to you before continuing with his rounds in the classroom. "thank you, professor rodden."

after class, you're all over harry, resting your head on him, hugging him, touching him randomly, but he's not complaining of course. he feels lucky enough that you're so comfortable around him as to be touchy feely.

"thank you, by the way. for what you said to rodden." you thank him as you two walk into your dorm room. harry takes his usual seat at your computer desk. "of course, i wasn't about to let that wanker give me credit for all of your hard work." harry says, laughing. he's become so much more confident with you, even using your lingo in his own vocabulary.

"no, really, thank you. just, for everything." you smile at him. "you're the best friend i could ever ask for."

harry feels his smile slightly falter. he's always reminded that that's all you are is friends, and while he's insanely grateful for your friendship, probably more than anything else in his life, he just can't help but feel a bit lost at this point. he's insanely attracted to you, ferociously protective over you, and, yet, can't bring himself to tell you any of this.

"you're welcome, [y/n], but if anything i should be thanking you. you don't even know how much you've helped me, not just with school but with everything. you're, like, the only friend i have at this point." harry laughs, but it's true. he's tried to make friends in other classes this year but has been disappointed each time, they're just not you.

you give harry a sad smile. "that's not true, ron and hermione are still your friends. more than that, they're practically your family." you walk over to him and run your hand through his hair, something you know he loves. he looks up at you slightly through his eyelashes.

"hermione's right, they'll come back to you one day. just give it some time, yeah?"

harry melts into your touch. nobody can settle his mind like you do. he didn't exactly look for pity from people, but you were someone he felt so safe with that he could be completely vulnerable in front of you. the reassurance and love that you provided him in these moments healed him in a way he didn't understand.

"right," he sighs, giving you the same sad smile.

you whine and pull his head into your chest, resting your own head on top of his. "awh, i hate seeing you so sad." you say sympathetically, still running your fingers through the back of his hair.

if harry's being completely honest, he's not sad at all anymore. how could he feel anything but pure bliss with his head buried in your sweater and your fingers leaving goosebumps throughout his scalp? he leans into you like a dog being pet, so desperate for your touch.

you stay like that with him for a while, just enjoying each other's company. harry found solace in your heartbeat, feeling truly at peace for the first time in weeks. "i've missed you." harry practically moans, intoxicated by your warm scent, his eyes fluttering closed.

you hum, smiling softly to yourself, feeling harry practically melt into your arms. "missed you too, harry," you coo, enjoying the feeling of being together.

"the semester's almost over, then it's christmas." you remind him, lifting your head as you look down at his closed eyes. he looks so peaceful resting against you.

harry smiles. almost christmas. but more importantly, almost your birthday.

harry very vividly remembers a conversation he had with you towards the beginning of your friendship about birthdays and how neither of you particularly enjoyed them.

your birthday fell close to christmas, so, inevitably, it became synonymous with christmas growing up. never really getting a separate party or separate presents, you learned to not expect much the actual day of, and to rather wait for christmas so you could be celebrated on the side.

harry was having none of this. he thinks you forgot about the conversation with him completely, but he's thought about it constantly since then. he's been planning on giving you a special birthday on your actual birthday this year, and he's practically dying to tell you. but he doesn't, and he won't, because it has to be a complete surprise.

"hm. christmas." is all he says, tilting his head back to look up at you. from every angle he finds you so fascinating, you just get prettier and prettier the more he truly looks at you.

you're gazing at him so gently, so warmly, your hand practically cradling his head against you. harry blinks and you're suddenly leaning forward, planting a soft kiss against his forehead.

harry could've died happy at that moment.

he brings his head away from your chest as you step away, soft smile and blushing cheeks. watching you turn and start folding laundry mindlessly, harry feels the lingering kiss tingling his skin.

for a brief moment, he imagines himself coming up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your neck, feeling you, pushing you to the bed…

harry quickly shakes his head, grinding his teeth at the horny urges he gets at the most simple actions. what other boys in university get an erection so quickly from a forehead kiss? sometimes harry felt like such a loser, not just with you, but with sex in general.

he never thought about it much before you, so it's not something he knows a lot about. he'd masturbated before, but not as often as he does now, or in the same way. usually he thought about making out with someone, maybe touching them, but now…he just felt so dirty, the things that his brain creates about you.

once you finish the laundry, you ask for his help to put stuff away. he's done this for you many times before, so he knows where you like everything to be.

he hangs up a few shirts and puts away some jeans and socks. he turns around to see you handing him a pile of your panties loosely stacked together. "here," you say as you're turned the other way, gathering another pile of clothes with your other arm.

harry is frozen for a second before reluctantly taking the underwear from you, immediately feeling his face flush.

he's instantly reminded of your panties sitting in his room right now. the panties he stole. the panties he masturbated with.

he's since washed them and keeps them out of guilt, partially, but he's not quite sure how to subtly return them to you. not like he wants to anytime soon.

as harry turns around and opens the drawer you put your panties in, he takes his time so he can admire all the different pairs in his hand. pinks, purples, reds, neutrals, blacks, he was practically holding a goldmine. it almost made him chuckle, the irony of you asking him to put these away.

he neatly tucks them into the drawer, admiring them one last time before slowly closing it.

for the first time that month, you and harry actually have the freetime to leave campus and get food together. your favorite diner is open all night and serves the best milkshakes either of you have ever had.

"how are we splitting the checks?" the older waitress asks, eyeing harry up and down. before you can say anything he tells her just one, handing her his card out of nowhere.

as she walks away you give him an evil look. "you don't always have to pay for everything, y'know? i'm perfectly capable of paying for myself or the both of us." you tease him. he smiles. "i know." he states simply.

you finish your milkshakes within minutes, handing your cherry to harry like you do every time. "cherry for harry," you always say. it always gets a smile out of him.

after a few minutes of chatting alone in the diner, the bell at the front door rings. you get a big smile across your face as you stand from the booth. "thomas?" you ask.

harry turns around to see a man in a quidditch uniform, his hair sweaty and book bag full to the brim. he's carrying his broomstick around, like a total tool if you ask harry, and gives you the cheekiest smile possible.

"[y/n]?" he asks.

harry could've killed him just for saying your name the way he did. like a predator hunting its prey again.

harry's anger immediately worsened when you practically jumped on this guy to give him a hug. nothing like the hug you gave harry in class today, he wants to note.

harry stood up, causing the guy to look at him. he had a scar as well, one from quidditch harry would assume. a slash across his left eye, healed but still somewhat recent.

you look back at harry as well, smiling at him. "harry, this is thomas." you introduce them.

yeah, he picked up on that. harry's face was red from anger.

he reluctantly steps forward, offering his hand to the douchebag who still kept a light hand on your shoulder. harry wanted to break his wrist when he went in for the handshake, but instead he offered a polite, "harry. nice to meet you."

the guy, thomas, gives a half smirk. "harry potter." he states matter-of-factly.

harry was sure his anger was visible at this point. it was enough that this guy was touching you and clearly had a past with you, but for him to pull the boy who lived card on him in front of you was enough to make his fists ball up.

"that's me." he says, his tone dripping in sarcasm.

there's an awkward moment of silence as harry continues to stare thomas down.

"so. how do you two know each other?" harry asks you, his tone and gaze softening just looking at you.

"oh! um…" you start nervously.

"we dated back in high school." thomas finishes for you.

of fucking course you did, harry thinks.

"yeah…for, like, 2 months…" you awkwardly laugh off, clearly not the most comfortable discussing this in front of harry.

thomas laughs with you as the waitress hands him a to-go box. "well, i'll see you guys around," he says as he hikes up his bookbag. "it was nice to see you again, [y/n]."

if looks could kill, this guy would've been dead long before he left out the door. harry knew he was visibly upset when you looked over at him.

"you okay harry?" you ask with a laugh.

he breaks, looking at you with a smile as he loosens his tight muscles. "sorry, i'm fine," he says.

as you both put your coats on to walk home, harry can't help but replay the interaction in his head. "dated…in high school…" "yeah…for, like, 2 months…"

harry's mind was swimming as you left the diner with him, walking into a light snow. "wow," you sigh, looking around you. harry looks up. it's beautiful out. the snow gives everything a light, soft look under the street lamps. he looks down at you and smiles at you admiring the scenery.

sometimes it scares harry how jealous he gets when it comes to you, and how quickly it can happen. that guy did nothing but say your name and give you a 2 second hug, and he actually dated you, so what right does harry have to get upset as just your friend? but all he can think about on the walk to your dorm is pummeling this guy's stupid face into the ground.

harry hadn't told you yet, but he had actually been going to the gym lately with all the time he had spent away from you during the busy school weeks. nothing too intense, he actually focused on boxing and lifting specifically because he wanted to be better prepared to protect you in case anything happened to you. and for self defense reasons, of course, but mainly for your benefit. he would do anything for you.

upon arriving at your dorm, you plop onto your mattress with a groan. "too much milkshake," you whine.

harry chuckles at you, shaking the snow out of his hair. "i told you not to get the large." he smirks. you frown at him, making him laugh again. "it's not funny! and you're wrong, i deserved a large after this month." you protest.

he laughs you off again, taking a peek at your alarm clock next to your bed. his eyes widen. "bloody hell, since when was it half past 11?" he asks astounded.

you laugh at his shock. "time flies when you're havin' fun,"

harry rubs his eyes. "if i don't leave now i won't get enough sleep to make it to my 9 a.m." he groans, not wanting his time with you to end yet again.

"nooo," you whine, clearly wanting the same. he gives you a sad look at your tone. "stay?" you ask.

harry's a bit taken aback. he hasn't stayed the night since the halloween party. thinking about that night for even a split second makes him break a sweat. it's his most replayed memory. he could even call it his sexual awakening at the ripe age of 19.

"stay? are you sure?" harry asks. you immediately nod your head, smiling at him. he can't say no to you, and he doesn't want to. he has no reason to leave, anything he needs is already here.

"well, if you insist." he smirks. you roll your eyes, taking off your jacket and hat and setting them in your closet. "i only insist because that snow is turning into a storm." you reply. you're not wrong, harry would've had to walk for 15 minutes through heavier and heavier snowfall, not to mention the windchill.

"well, thank you." he says. you smile back at him before reaching to take your shirt off. harry's seen you in multiple states of undress since the halloween party, so it's not uncommon for you to just change at any point during your conversations.

but that didn't make it any less pleasurable for harry.

sometimes he just sat back and watched like it was a personal show just for him. he would memorize the shape of your back and, shit, the curve of your ass. he watched as you pulled down your jeans, left in nothing but a bra and panties. he tried not to stare but it was impossible to look away for too long, your ass was just perfect to him.

before too long you unclasped the bra hooks behind your back and let the black fabric fall into the laundry. you slipped on a big t-shirt, your favorite thing to wear to bed, and harry caught just the slightest glimpse of your tits from behind you.

as you turned around, harry quickly began taking off his wet, snow covered converse to appear as though he wasn't just observing you like his own personal dirty magazine.

when he looked up, you were handing him some clothes to change into. he thanked you, grabbing them as he took off his jeans and sweatshirt. harry had also learned to be more comfortable changing around you, even if it wasn't as often.

harry put on the sweatpants and fresh pair of socks before realizing you hadn't given him a shirt. he looked over at you and you were already staring at him.

"harry, have you been working out?"

his face flushed, feeling exposed with just a pair of sweatpants on his hips. you were looking at his body with an expression of shock and amusement.

"u-um, yeah, a bit…just between classes, get some stress out." he's not entirely lying, but he could never tell you the real reason.

you smile at him, but a different smile than normal. you're almost…nervous? you've never been nervous around harry, even when you two first met.

"you look…good…" you say with a slight crack in your voice, still looking at him. harry can feel his blood pumping, and he knows that can only lead to an eventual erection, so he turns around casually pretending to fold his jeans. "oh, thanks," he tries to say casually.

he can still feel your eyes on him as he hangs his sweatshirt on your coat rack. "damn, harry. you're like…ripped." you say with genuine shock in your voice.

harry turns towards you, but you're fixated on his exposed torso. he nervously laughs, not sure how to respond. of course he thought getting stronger would mean his body would inevitably look better, but he cared more about his ability to fight off any creeps he needed to in order to keep you safe. however, he hadn't necessarily considered your reaction to his transformation. he had somewhat forgotten you also saw him change his clothes that halloween night. he thought you had forgotten too.

"i don't know about that," he laughs awkwardly.

you just giggle and look away, shaking your head. you climb into bed and invite him next to you. harry accepts and joins you beneath the covers, turning off a lamp beside him.

after a few moments of silence, harry could hear your shallow, even breaths indicating you're asleep. he looked down at you, peaceful, beautiful. he sat up as gently as possible and placed a soft kiss to your forehead. "goodnight, [y/n]."

it was finally your birthday.

harry had been planning this day for weeks. he made sure to ask you way ahead of schedule when you would be seeing family so he could time everything perfectly.

he had completely set up your room to look like a birthday party for a kid. balloons, streamers, a birthday cake and ice cream, presents, even fun plates and napkins.

you should be coming home from going out to eat with your parents for brunch in about 10 minutes. harry made sure to call you before you left early in the morning to be the first to wish you a happy birthday.

as he was waiting for you to arrive, he made sure everything was perfect, down to the last balloon. he had put your favorite cd on and even lit a candle. he's not quite sure why, he just felt like it was right.

soon enough, he could hear your keys on the other side of your door letting yourself in, so harry positioned himself beside your bed and waited eagerly for the reaction he'd been thinking about for months.

when you open the door, you're a bit startled to see him at first. "surprise!" he says with a suppressed smile, trying to contain his excitement.

your eyes slowly examine the room, your jaw dropping as you bring a hand to your heart. "harry…" you choke out in a small voice, still noticing different details around you as the door closes behind you.

"happy birthday." he says lovingly, taking in every second of your realization.

"you…how did you…" you can't even get the words out as you set down your purse and coat on your bed next to your presents from harry.

"i've been planning this for weeks. i wanted to give you the birthday you never had." he tells you.

you look at him with tears in your eyes, quickly looking away and towards your dresser. "you got me a cake…" you say tearfully, walking up to the custom cake he had placed an order for an entire week ago.

"we also have reservations for the diner at 5. if you'd join me, of course." harry smirks. you chuckle at him, jumping in his arms and enveloping him in a hug. "thank you…" you begin to cry into his shoulder.

harry holds you tight, dazed from your scent and enjoying the softness of your hair. he rubs your back softly as you get the tears out, letting you know it's okay.

you pull away, wiping your tears as you laugh at yourself. "sorry, i just…this is so amazing of you harry."

"don't be sorry. i'm glad you love it." he reassures you, making you smile. "let's have some cake, hm?"

after some cake and ice cream as well as messing with the balloons and party favors, it was time for harry's favorite part. the presents.

he sat you both down on your bed and savored each reaction you had to each present. every thank you was followed by, "how did you know i wanted this?" "how much was this?" "how did you get this?"

harry had his ways. and again, he would do anything for you.

his last present for you, though, was the most important. he kept it beside him until the very end, handing it to you with a shy smile. you lifted the lid off the box to reveal a beautiful necklace, one he saw you looking at multiple times while out shopping with you.

you were speechless. you looked at harry with the most genuine expression of shock, gratitude, and confusion. "harry…" you gasp. "you got this for me?" you ask.

harry chuckles. "do you like it?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

"harry…you really shouldn't have…" you tell him, staring at the necklace in your lap. he smiles even bigger, the look on your face was already enough to convince him it was worth it. it was all worth it. "here, i'll put it on you."

you hand harry the necklace, turning and scooting towards him as you hold your hair to the side for him. he's immediately reminded of the night he helped you take your bra off.

he clasps the necklace together and you turn towards him, looking down at it with him. "wow, it looks great." he says with a smile.

you look up at him, your faces nearly touching. harry can barely process your beauty before you lean in for a soft kiss against his lips.

harry's completely frozen, not knowing what to do or what's even happening.

when you pull back, harry can barely breathe.

you look up at him, your eyes soft and eager. harry can't hold himself back anymore. you've kissed him first, that's all the permission he needs for now.

he lightly grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for a bigger, deeper kiss. soon enough, you're making out with harry in your bed.

he's a bit rusty when it comes to kissing, but he plays it safe with you and keeps it soft and light. your hands have traveled to harry's neck and hair, pulling him closer to you.

after a minute or so, harry pulls away. "i love you, [y/n]." he admits. he just couldn't keep it in for much longer.

your eyes light up, a shy smile on your lips as you read his expression. "oh, harry. i love you, too." you reply breathlessly.

the kissing becomes more and more heated as you eventually push harry back onto your pillows. he's surprised, and completely aroused, trying to ignore his growing erection from simply kissing you.

you climb on top of him, the visual making harry sweat already. as you lean in to continue the kiss, your legs end up on either side of him, straddling his torso.

harry is at a loss. he never imagined his birthday surprise for you would end like this. did you really mean you loved him? like, loved loved him?

his hands went to your hips, savoring the feeling of your weight on top of him, his pants becoming more and more uncomfortable. eventually, he can feel your hips slowly rock back and forth on his lap.

he pulls away from the kiss, looking at you above him with wonder. it was everything he could've imagined. even better than the constant fantasies he had of you.

"is this okay?" you ask him softly, searching his eyes, grinding your hips into his a bit slower than before.

harry looks at you incredulously. "[y/n], this is all i've wanted for so long. please. use me." the desperation in his voice surprises him, he knew he wanted you this bad but he couldn't believe how quickly you had him begging.

you practically moaned at his desperate request. "fuck," you whisper as you go in for another kiss.

harry guides your hips into his, and he's sure you can feel just how hard he is through his jeans. you're softly moaning into the kiss, stopping to catch your breath every so often as harry slightly thrusts his hips into you, desperate for more.

"oh, harry…" you moan, causing his eyes to roll in ecstasy. for so long he imagined how you'd sound moaning his name just for him, and he's more than happy with the real thing.

"you're so beautiful, darling," harry says, reaching for your flushed cheek.

you whimper at his voice, tangling a hand in his hair. "tell me again." you demand him.

shit. harry could seriously cum just from that. he's doing everything he can to keep this going as long as possible, but he's not sure how much longer he'll last under you.

"beautiful. so, so beautiful." he says between heavy breaths, watching your incredible body grind onto him for pleasure. "you have no idea how badly i've needed you," he looks back into your eyes, half shut with pleasure as you continue to blush.

"touch me." you tell him, putting your hair behind your shoulders. he looks up at you slowly moving up and down on his lap. he could watch you do this for hours. a dream come true.

one hand slowly makes its way towards your tits, massaging one through your clothes. harry's head rolls back in pleasure, hardly believing this was his real life. involuntary moans slip through his lips as you continue to dry hump him.

"fuck, harry…" you whimper, kissing him again. he can feel the necklace he got you against his hand as he continue to feel your tits. everything about this was perfect. as far as he was concerned, right now, in this moment, you were his and only his.

"i-i…i think i'm gonna cum…" you tell him between kissing. his hands grip you tighter, all he wants to do is please you, be the reason for your ecstasy.

"please, [y/n], please cum for me," he begs of you, feeling his own body tipping over the edge. you look him in the eyes, your hand on his cheek as your breathing gets more rapid and uneven.

you're whimpering, desperately grinding for relief on harry's jeans as he feels himself about to cum. "harry, please…" you beg.

harry slightly thrusts into you, meeting your rhythm as he pulls you closer to him. you begin to shake in his grip, your eyes and jaw going lax as your whimpers become breathless. your hand finds one of his and interlocks your fingers together. you squeeze his hand as you ride out your high. he's completely enthralled with your face and body's reaction to him. he could be here forever, letting you use his body for pleasure, and he would hurt anyone who tried to stop him.

as you start to come down from your climax, harry gently pulls you in for a weak kiss. you crawl beside him, hiding your face in his chest as you continue to catch your breath.

"that was…so hot…" you manage to say between breaths. harry laughs softly, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on your head. "you're amazing." is all he can say.

"so…did you…?" you shyly start to ask. "yes. i came in my pants." harry admits, hiding his face in your hair. you can't help but laugh a bit, looking down at his jeans. he looks down and sees a dark spot near the zipper.

"oh." you say, clearly amused. "how couldn't i? i had the most beautiful woman in the world orgasming on my lap." harry smirks.

you hide your face in his chest again, giggling. you look up at him with dilated eyes, flushed cheeks, and sore lips in a small smile. "i really do love you, harry," you speak softly.

"i love you too, [y/n]."

it's the day after christmas, and you and harry had spent the holiday with your family. he loved your parents, and got on well with your siblings. he had even rented a room at a local inn near the area for you two to stay in. a private place to escape the chaos and have some alone time.

you and harry were practically all over each other all the time at this point. he couldn't help himself, all he ever wanted was to kiss you and now he could, whenever he wanted, and he was going to take advantage of that.

it was your last day at the inn, a cozy cottage type place with the softest beds you've ever slept in, and harry paid for all of it before you even knew about it. "merry christmas," he had told you.

you were eating your complimentary breakfasts together in silence, across from each other at the little table in the corner of the room.

"thank you, again, harry. this was a wonderful idea." you said as you finished your orange juice, admiring the snowfall out of the window. "it's so beautiful here."

"you're beautiful."

you give harry a look, but crack a smile. "and you're cheesy."

harry chuckles, admiring you like he always does. his soft eyes and kind smile give you butterflies.

as you're packing your clothes to get ready to leave, harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. you smile, giggling, continuing to pack your suitcase. his lips end up on your neck, but you ignore him as you put your panties inside the bag.

harry laughs to himself. you look over at him. "what?" you ask with a smile. he's blushing, shaking his head. "nothing, nothing." he continues to laugh.

"tell me," you say. he shakes his head again. "no, its…it's weird." he says. you can hear a bit of shame in his voice as he hides his face in your neck again. "harry, tell me. please?"

he can't resist when you ask nicely.

he sighs, taking a step away from you and sitting on the bed next to your suitcase. "well…" he starts, rubbing his face nervously. "um, after the halloween party…" he trails off.

"yes…?" you ask, amused at his shy demeanor.

"u-uh, the morning after, when you took a shower…" harry recalls, shifting his weight. "i may have, um…stolen your underwear you took off in front of me…." he cringes at his words, turning his head away from you.

"i knew it!" you declared, pushing his shoulder.

harry covered his face completely, feeling like he could burst into tears at any moment from the embarrassment.

"god, that's so bloody hot, harry," you practically moan, pushing his arms to the side and sitting in his lap. he's completely red in the face, bewildered by your reaction.

"wh…what?" he asks breathlessly.

you hold his face in your hands, admiring his shy expression as you sink into him. "you don't find that weird? or creepy? or extremely perverted?" harry asks you incredulously.

you giggle at him, your eyes full of love. "yes, harry, stealing my used panties behind my back is very perverted. if you did that to any other girl they may find it really disturbing." harry's heart drops, his eyes focused on you completely. "but, i like you. i've really liked you for a long time. and…i find it so fucking hot just how desperate you were for me…"

harry's heart is immediately pumping at your words. you wrap your arms around his neck as you force a kiss on him, his hands grabbing your waist with a hunger.

after a moment he pulls back, nervously blinking and clearing his throat. "um, that's not all, though," he says regretfully. you give him a curious look. "i might've, um…used the panties to masturbate…" he admits.

you smile at his nervousness, biting your lip and giving him a desperate look. "oh, harry, tell me what it was like…" you moan as you begin kissing his neck.

harry's voice is caught, his head rolling back in pure bliss. sometimes he still can't believe this is real life.

you continue to bite at his neck, leaving marks as harry tries to find the words. "i, um…" his hand travels to your ass. "well, i smelled them first…" you moan against his skin, your legs tightening around him. "go on…" you say with a smile.

harry's trying to focus on the story without getting distracted by your lips. "they smelled so good, and you almost caught me, so i put them in my pocket," harry fights back a moan.

"so naughty," you tease him, pushing him onto his back. "tell me more." you demand.

harry nervously swallows at the sight of you above him. you hadn't done anything since your birthday just a few days previous, but it was all harry could think about. he missed the feeling of you being above him, using him, telling him what to do.

"when i got home, i immediately started jerking off thinking about undressing you, seeing your tits for the first time, smelling your panties, i felt so dirty because you told me i was such a gentleman that night…" harry rambles. something about revealing his perverted obsession with you as you're on his lap makes his erection harden.

he grabs for your thighs, sighing at how heavenly they feel in his hands. "then, i just…wrapped your panties around my dick…and i came on them, almost instantly…" harry reveals, the embarrassment fueling his lust.

you're practically aching for harry listening to his story, watching him become desperate for you once again. he's falling apart in your hands and you just can't get enough of it.

"god, harry, that's so hot…you were so obsessed with me…" you say as you lean into his lips, your bodies entangled on the bed.

harry pulls away, holding your face in his hands gently. "i still am, [y/n]." he says sincerely, admiring your eyes. "so, so obsessed…you have no idea…"

you gaze longingly at him, melting his heart. after a moment you kiss him passionately, savoring his eagerness.

"well…would you like these panties too?" you ask with a smirk, putting his hand on your ass. he looks up at you with begging eyes. "please," he says so softly.

soon you're sat on the edge of the bed, harry pulling down your pants with the fireplace lit behind him. he's looking at you so tenderly, taking in every part of you, constantly reminding you how much he loves you, and how beautiful you are.

you open your legs for him as he kneels in front of you, his eyes fluttering from your face to your panties, which are undoubtedly wet from hearing harry's perverted stories.

his mouth is watering just looking at you.

he gently kisses your thighs, higher and higher until he reaches your panties, taking a moment to look back up at you. you're intently watching him, a blush spreading across your face. you look so pretty from here, a view he's daydreamed about plenty of times.

he buries his face in your smell, moaning, taking you in completely, eyes drooping shut as he feels complete bliss overcome him.

you whimper at his reaction, a hand reaching for his hair as he comes back to earth. he reaches for your panties when he pauses, looking up at you shyly.

"i-i've never done this before." he admits.

you giggle at him lovingly. "i know, harry. it's okay. i haven't either." you reassure him, reaching for his glasses and setting them beside you. he smiles shyly and lays his head on your thigh, letting your hand tangle itself in his hair, memorizing this angle of you.

"just enjoy yourself."

harry blushes at that sentiment. he was enjoying himself no matter what, with you he was always happy, especially in moments like this.

but harry more than enjoyed himself. he had always fantasized what it would be like to eat your pussy, your hand in his hair as you ride his face and cum in his mouth. what he didn't expect was just how intimate it felt with you, the soft whimpers that escaped your mouth, having your legs rest on his shoulders, practically making out with your pussy while you writhe with pleasure beneath his hands.

you were both a bit unsure at first, awkward smiles and laughs and reassuring touches, before harry eventually lost himself in the act. he paid close attention to your reactions, your facial expressions, trying to figure out the best way to pleasure you. he loved feeling you get more and more wet for him by the minute, he couldn't get enough of you.

harry didn't want to stop. cumming once wasn't enough for him. he ignored your begging for him to wait, please, it's too much, holding your hands down with his own as he continued for several more minutes. he had waited so long to finally do this for you, showing you just how badly he wanted you. his dick was aching from how hard it was. this was easily the most turned on he'd been for you so far, watching and hearing you orgasm because of him, on his face, he was convinced there was nothing more enjoyable or desirable than this.

"harry, god damn it…" you sighed. he stayed between your legs in the same position, leaving loving and longing kisses on your thighs and stomach, enjoying the aftershocks your body was having in response to him, looking at you with hunger in his eyes.

"yes?" he asks innocently, still admiring your delicious pussy. "harry, i can barely move…" you whine, your body aching and sore. harry smiles devilishly at your weakness, loving the effect he's come to have on you.

he kisses up your body, leaving a desperate kiss on your lips as you taste yourself on him.

"that was even better than i ever imagined it could be," harry practically growls. you giggle at him, your eyes tired and lips bitten.

you look down at harry and see his throbbing erection through his pants. you look back at him, and offer to return the favor.

"oh, honey, you don't have to, you should rest…" harry insists, stroking your hair out of your face. but you're not backing down, and you at least convince him to let you help him out.

he lays next to you on the bed, shirt and pants off as you start feeling his dick through his briefs. harry's instantly desperate under your touch, realizing just how long he's waited for this moment, no longer having to imagine his own hand as yours.

"[y/n]..." harry moans, his eyes filled with lust as he looks over at you. you. blushing, beautiful, natural you. "i swear i could cum just looking at you."

you giggle at harry again, blushing into his chest as your hand continues to stroke him. you look back up at him innocently, admiring the look of desperation he couldn't hide. reaching for a kiss, harry moans softly into your mouth, his dick twitching in your hand.

"oh god…" harry whines, his head falling back in pleasure. you can tell he's close, just from light touching and barely any kissing. you can't help but giggle at his state, loving the control you have over him.

"go ahead, baby, cum for me," you whisper seductively.

that's all it takes for harry.

trying his best to keep his eyes on you, he comes completely undone under your touch. his breathing becomes completely ragged, breathy whimpers, vaguely trying to say your name the longer you stroked him. similar to how he kept going with you, you didn't back down. he begged you to stop, but you could tell he didn't really want you to stop any time soon. you kiss him to quiet his begging, continuing to overstimulate him until he came for a second time, ruining his briefs for good.

after cleaning yourselves up, harry gives you the longest, warmest, most loving hug you've ever received in your life. you bury your head in his chest, taking in the feeling and smell of his skin. his, now muscular, arms are wrapped tightly around you, holding you like harry had nothing left in this world but you.

"i love you, so much, and i'm so thankful for you." harry says, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

you hug him even tighter. "i love you, harry,"

————————————————————

by the time next semester starts, you and harry are full-blown boyfriend and girlfriend, constantly holding hands wherever you two go and seeing each other off to your classes or study sessions. people talked amongst themselves about the harry potter having a girlfriend, but you both paid no mind.

being with you has really made harry come out of his shell. by the time spring sports roll around, harry feels confident enough to try out for the university's quidditch team. with your support, of course.

it was never a question that he'd make the team, he instantly became their new seeker and brought the school out of their losing streak. through this, harry also made tons of friends, real friends, who wanted to get to know him outside of being harry potter.

not to mention that you had become his number one fan, showing up to every game and most practices to cheer on your best friend and help him strategize for future games.

in every aspect, harry's life completely changed for the better. he loved his classes, he loved his team, and above all else, he loved you, and felt like he owed everything he had to you.

the only thing that bothered harry anymore was that jerk you dated and introduced him to at the diner, thomas.

thomas hadn't made the quidditch team this season, and he made it very clear that he blamed harry for that. he tried spreading a rumor that harry paid his way in, but people didn't buy it after seeing just how well harry played every game.

but that's not what bothered harry. what bothered him was the way thomas used you to get to him.

everyone knew you and harry were dating. it was the topic of conversation on campus for nearly a week when everyone found out. so why is it that every time thomas talked to you when he saw you alone you had to remind him that no, you can't hang out sometime soon, you have a boyfriend now? to harry it felt personal, and he didn't like it.

it was one of the most important quidditch matches of the season, it determined the university's qualification for finals. harry was on top of his game, especially seeing you cheering for him in the stands, and won the match easily, being celebrated by his team on the field.

after taking a few photos and congratulating the rest of the players, harry eagerly runs to meet you at your usual spot just beside the stands to get his usual post-win kiss.

what he finds instead makes him see red.

thomas. he has you completely backed up to the stands, a clearly heated conversation going on between you two. harry can tell you're pissed just by looking at you, speaking with your hands and trying to walk away but being stopped by thomas each time. finally you push him away, and he grabs you.

that's all harry needs to see before he begins sprinting towards him, his mind racing a million miles an hour and yet completely blank at the same time.

you had managed to push thomas off of you, now yelling at him to get the fuck away from you before you rock his shit.

before you can even try, harry tackles thomas to the ground and begins rocking his shit for you.

you gasped. "harry! stop!" you tell him, not wanting him to get caught and punished. but harry doesn't stop. you've never seen this anger from him. it's like he can't stop, not showing any signs of fatigue or resistance.

"harry! stop!" you yell at him, grabbing him from behind and pulling him away. harry stops punching thomas, only to stand above him and kick him in the stomach. "harry." you warn him, giving him a concerned look. "stop. you'll get expelled." you tell him in a hushed tone.

harry looks at you, softening, coming back to earth as you motion for him to just walk away with you. harry looks down at thomas, a bleeding mess in the dirt, crying in the fetal position.

harry kneels next to thomas, making him flinch. harry points his wand at him and mutters quickly, "episkey."

thomas's nose fixes itself, his cuts heal, and his stomach bruise lightens. he looks at harry incredulously, feeling no physical pain, but in fear of the threat harry posed.

"don't ever fucking touch her again. do you understand? next time i won't be so nice." harry growls. thomas quickly nods his head, desperate to leave. harry stands up, sneering at him still in the dirt. "and don't talk to me either while you're at it." you add at the end, your voice just as intimidating as harry's. "got that?" harry asks sarcastically. thomas nods again, standing up and running away from harry.

as he turns to you, you notice his bloody nose, multiple cuts from the game, and bruised knuckles. "oh, harry," you coo sympathetically, grabbing his hands and examining them. "come on. let's go home."

and by home, you meant to your house. the university had upgraded your room and board in exchange for you to work for them as a professor's assistant in potions. it was a small cottage just outside of campus, one bedroom, one bathroom, but it was enough for you and harry.

walking into your living room, you send harry to the bathroom as you lock the door behind you and drop your stuff off on the dining table. you grab a rag from the kitchen and get it wet with warm water.

you enter the bathroom to see a shirtless harry already attempting to clean a wound on his chest. you can see his reflection in the mirror and are completely infatuated with his focused, bloody face concentrated on his reflection as he tends to his injury.

you come up behind him, barely able to rest your chin on his tall, broad shoulders. his reflection instantly softens, his muscles relaxing.

you turn him around, cleaning the wounds on his chest, arms, and hands. his knuckles were bruised, nothing a spell couldn't fix. "you're lucky you didn't break anything." you remind him.

he watches you so intently. your gentle, caring touch bringing him instant relief. even now, all these months later, you still mesmerize him every day. he's not sure he'll ever get used to having you for himself. but that's just what you were, for himself.

"i wanted to kill him. i would've killed him." harry reminds you, rubbing his knuckles. "sit, please," you ask quietly, pulling him over to the closed toilet. harry sits down, letting out a groan as his entire body aches from quidditch and nearly killing someone.

he looks up at you, his eyes dark and angry again just thinking about it before softening at you. you bring the rag to his face, wiping away blood and dirt from his scars. a tense silence falls between you two. harry can't tell if you're angry at him for what he did. he has no idea why, that thomas kid was dead meat as soon as he decided to touch you.

as you carefully finish cleaning the last of the dirt off harry's face, you notice how tenderly he's watching you. you sigh, holding his face in your hands.

"i'm not mad at you." you say. he swears you can read him like a book.

"but, you could've gotten in serious trouble. or hurt yourself. i just don't want to be the reason you're down." you explain, rubbing a thumb along his cheek.

"i would do anything for you." he reminds you, his hand finding yours.

you smile warmly at him. you can't stay upset with him for very long.

"then do this for me: stay out of trouble."

harry smiles. no promises.

as you're getting ready for bed, harry walks in from his shower in just a pair of shorts. you walk up to him, running your hands along his torso to make sure his scars are sufficiently clean. and to just admire your boyfriend in general.

harry revealed to you some time back his real reason for working out. you found it sweet, but a bit silly, as you could handle yourself perfectly well. however, tonight, harry proved you wrong. though you were never in immediate danger or physical harm, as far as you knew, it still felt really nice to know he had your back when things got scary.

while working out definitely helped his strength, quidditch is what really made his body so exceptional.

he was perfectly toned, incredibly strong, and more buff than he ever had been his entire life. you were never someone to have a thing for muscular guys, but something about watching harry's body get better and better with time just drove you crazy.

"you know," you start off, resting your hands on his chest. you could feel his heart racing. all this time later and he's still such a nervous wreck for you.

"i may not approve of it, but…i can't deny how fucking sexy you looked beating thomas up for me,"

harry could feel his blood boil just from you mentioning that douchebag's name, but he was somewhat distracted by your observation.

"oh, really?" he smirks, grabbing your waist possessively. you instantly have goosebumps, leaning into harry's tight grip. "mhm. i haven't stopped thinking about it…you in your quidditch uniform, your muscles, the anger in your voice…" you practically swoon for him.

harry blushes, but takes advantage of the situation. "i was seeing red." he recalls. "i was seriously going to fucking kill that loser for even thinking he could touch my girl."

you're instantly turned on by his fierce protectiveness. normally you find harry's jealousy funny, since he has no reason to ever worry about you, but tonight it made you see a completely different side of him…

harry was always so soft and careful with you, and was a normally mild-tempered person with everyone. the only time he really got upset was if someone was getting too comfortable with you too quickly. to see him completely lose his cool, to watch him unleash onto this guy who thought he could just grab you…

you were just so, so attracted to him right now.

"yes, your girl, all yours," you reassure him as you lean in for a kiss. he quickly takes control and brings you to your bed, laying you down with haste. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between sloppy kisses.

the lingering anger within harry needs to be released, immediately.

he quickly undresses you, a complete 180 of the old harry who was afraid to help you take off your bra. he practically rips your panties in half trying to get them off of you.

you're already soaking wet from his aggression. he smirks at you. "guess i should get angry more, yeah?" harry teases.

you blush, but you wouldn't exactly be against it.

as harry slowly begins thrusting into you, he feels that familiar bliss overcome him like it does every time he's inside of you.

you and harry have had sex a couple times before, mostly slow and passionate with lots of kissing, enjoying each other's bodies and intimacy.

but this time, harry was hungry for you.

not to say he never is. he might always be hungry for you, quite literally. but this time, he lets the hunger consume him.

harry's thrusts become less careful and more desperate, he leaves dark, aching bites all over your chest, marking what's his. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between each bite.

you're in a state of pure ecstasy. you didn't know harry could be so rough with you. his desperation usually came in the form of shy begging, whimpering, and a desire to please. but this kind of desperation was aggressive, jealous, and aimed to please himself. you didn't mind, you thought it was bloody hot. you also wanted to help harry get his anger out, and you were the perfect way to do that.

as his thrusts become more possessive and sloppy, his arms rest on either side of you, the sight above you enough to make your orgasm accelerate. a sweaty, tired, aching harry, desperate to prove something to you, looking at you like you're the first meal he's had in years. his muscles flexing, veins popping out, and his breathing becomes labored.

he can feel you tightening around him and quickened his pace. "harry, harry, i'm cumming," you warn him, whining, desperate for a release.

"that's right, cum for me, baby." he groans in your ear, wrapping his arms around you as he continues pounding into you relentlessly.

watching you fall apart under him is enough to send him over the edge himself. his head is buried in your neck as he breathes heavily, moaning your name in your own ear.

"fuck, i'm gonna cum inside you, baby. can you let me do that?" harry asks you, his sweaty face desperate for your approval. you nod quickly, eager to be his release in anyway you can.

"can you take it? can you be a good girl for me?" harry loves to dirty talk, and this is the hottest it's been yet.

"please, harry, please give it to me, please, please, i need you," you beg harry, grabbing his shoulders, feeling your body prepare for its second orgasm.

"take it, baby, take it, god, you feel so good," he groans into your ear, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside you.

your body convulses from the feeling and watching harry melt into you. his face is relieved of all anger, his eyes soft and full of love for you as he leans in to give you a sloppy kiss.

he steps back, watching his cum drip out of you, and could easily get turned on again just by the sight of you right now. but he's too tired, and he knows he has lots of time with you to do it all over again.

after cleaning up and crawling into bed, harry holds you against his chest. you're asleep in no time, steady breaths and slight snores coming from your peaceful expression. harry wraps his arm around you before leaving a kiss on top of your head.

"i love you, [y/n]. goodnight."

————————————————————

[if you actually read through all of this, i salute you. if you actually enjoyed it, pls let me know. i definitely want to post more like this in the future so i always appreciate any feedback <3 thank you!!! happy new year btw lol]

[venuzasmuse]

𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐓

ellie with a reader that has a cat!

oh my god i’ve been meditating on this idea for so long

warnings: none. just ellie with a cat because they’re two things i love most in this world.

❀ i feel like in a modern au, ellie would lovelovelove animals and she’d jump at any opportunity to pet any dog she sees but she probably had some weird, bad experience with a cat when she was younger and just was not that fond of them.

❀ UNTIL. she met you.

❀ the two of you have been dating for a while and you decided to invite her over for once after only really going to her apartment on the days / nights y’all would be together.

❀ all is well and you’re turning your keys in the lock, too immersed in the oh so interesting conversation the two of you are in that you don’t even notice your pet leaping towards the two of you.

❀ her eyes would turn into saucers and she’d let out a really high pitched yelp before masking it with a cough to not look like a fool in front of you.

❀ initially, ellie is caught off guard.

❀ you never mentioned that you had a cat despite having been together for a few weeks. you’re so excited to see your furry friend and she’s just kinda standing there like 🧍‍♀️because like i said, she probably had some random traumatizing experience with cats when she was younger and engaging with them again just never crossed her mind.

❀ your cat is the sweetest baby in the whole wide world and after some warming up to her, ellie literally falls in love with your cat. i’m talking, she cannot stop holding her and loving on her.

❀ ellie didn’t really know how to pet her at first. she’d awkwardly rub her hand over your cats head and you’d just fizzle out into a puddle of giggles, trying to demonstrate how to.

“baby- no— here look. like this.”

❀ and you cat loves her too. you practically have to pry her off of ellie when she decides she in fact cannot sleepover that night.

❀ as your relationship together grows, so does her love for your cat.

❀ once y’all get to a comfortable stage of your relationship, you end up giving her spare key to your apartment and there’d be times where she’d literally just be there without you and you wouldn’t know until you walk in from a long night at work, and she’s just passed out and splayed across your bed with your cat perched up on her chest, sleeping.

❀ the way ellie plays with your cat is she’d pretend to be hurt when it playfully bites her and shakes it when it doesn’t let go of her.

❀ whenever y’all are running errands together, she’d randomly find a toy, even if it’s not a cat toy, and throw it in the cart without saying a word.

❀ she just knows your cat would love it. it’s her maternal instincts.

❀ is the type to give into whatever your cat wants. her food? fine. a random bracelet your cat just randomly starts to latch it’s teeth onto? it’s got it now, there’s no turn back.

❀ when y’all are laid up together after a long night, your cat would try to slot itself in between y’all and she’d just move it repeatedly until it settles on the spot near her neck and just lays on her.

❀ she’s so tired she wouldn’t even react to it. she’d just let the cat slowly suffocate her in her sleep.

❀ would randomly send you pictures of your cat attacking the camera and it’d be from the funniest angles ever.

❀ hella .5 pictures will also be sent and taken.

❀ that’s basically what her entire camera roll consists of.

❀ just you and your cat.

[helen-with-an-a]

NSFW Alphabet - Beautiful Girl series

Hi hi hi - here is the NSWF version of the alphabet headcanons. These were really fun to write and I used the template used by @barcaatthemoon if you wanna go see what she’s done too

Beautiful Girl masterlist

Aftercare

As established, Amor is on top most if not all of the time so her Aftercare for Ale usually involves helping her to the bathroom, showering and stuff before getting back into bed and helping Ale come back from subspace. If she can, she’ll try to change the sheets (at least the actual bed sheet if not the duvet and pillows too) but that’s dependent on Ale’s state of mind. Doing all of this for Ale is also a form of aftercare for her as well. It helps Amor to come down from her high as well. Ale usually checks in with Amor too - if she can’t do the physical aftercare, she’ll definitely do the emotional side

Body parts

Ale’s favourite part of herself is her muscles - she knows it sounds a little vain but she’s an athlete, she worked hard for those muscles and they help her do what she loves. Ale’s favourite body part of Amor is her arms/hands. Amor’s arms is Ale’s safe space. Everything is ok if Amor has an arm/hand on/around Ale. And Amor’s hands are magical in other ways as well 😏😏

Amor’s favourite body part of her own is her eyes. She thinks she has very pretty eyes and she has quite long eyelashes so she just thinks they’re really nice. Amor’s favourite body part of Ale’s has got to be Ale’s arse. Amor is a arse-girl through and through. She has to be touching/squeezing/admiring Ale’s arse at all times. During a hug, she definitely has her hands on Ale’s arse and she’s not opposed to “gentle and loving taps” (as Amor describes them) or “spanking” to the rest of the world

Cum

Ale is a firm believer that if it was possible, she would be pregnant by now. She doesn’t have a breeding kink as such but she definitely loves cumming on Amor’s cock. Ale’s favourite way to cum is with Amor, but that usually doesn’t happen very often - maybe that’s why she likes it so much, it’s kept as a rare occasion. Amor aims to make Ale cum at least twice, but she’s always very mindful of Ale’s state of mind and what she needs (and that isn’t always cumming as many times as she wants to)

Dirty Secret

Amor really wants to have sex on the football pitch - specifically at Camp Nou. And not just in the changing rooms. She wants to have sex in the centre circle. But she knows that’s never ever going to happen, practically and because Ale would never agree. So she’ll take that specific fantasy to the grave. Ale doesn’t really have dirty secrets just because she’s more than happy to tell them to Amor. And Amor will try almost anything to make sure it happens. But Ale loves when Amor wears one of Ale’s jerseys. One a few times Ale fucked Amor from behind, Amor wore one of Ale’s jersey and Ale just went insane

Experience

This is Amor’s first wlw relationship. She’s had 1 relationship with a man and it was nice enough - he was a good person and treated her well but the pressures of football and his job became too much and they went their separate ways. Amor has had casual stuff and one night stands with men and women before (and maybe a drunken night with Ingrid but neither of them can quite remember it so they’re pretending it never happened - they went out one night and woke up the next morning with just underwear and baggy t shirts on but absolutely no memory of what happened in between leaving the bar and the following morning). Ale has more experience with the relationship side, she was with Jenni for a few years but that just fizzled out and was definitely over well before Amor turned up. They’re both just working things out as they go and it’s working so far. The sex was definitely a learning curve, like it is with any new partner, but both of them were more than happy to try things and discover each other’s (and their own) likes and dislikes

Favourite Position

Ale loves to be fucked - as long as is can see Amor, she doesn’t care. The usual positions are missionary or cowgirl but any variation of Ale being able to see Amor is a yes. Amor loves eating Ale out. She loves when Ale is really close and her legs start to shake and when she cums Ale’s legs squeeze Amor’s head a little and Amor is just surrounded by Ale

Goofy

It’s all dependent on Ale’s mood. If Ale is in a good headspace, then laughs and smiles and giggles are definitely involved. If Ale needs something more serious then that’s what she’ll get

Hands

Amor can get Ale to cum so fast with just her fingers. It took them a while to get there but as soon as Ale started to feel so safe with Amor and they’d been together for a few months, it was insane how fast Ale can get over the edge. She has yet to squirt but Amor is DETERMINED to get her there (obvs she’s aware that for some people it just can’t happen but there’s no harm in trying right?). Amor has a slight obsession with Ale’s hands - I mean who wouldn’t - but there’s something about how her hands just fit so perfectly around Amor’s and how they can help work her up or calm her down just does something to Amor.

Intimacy

There is so much intimacy and romance between them on a daily basis and it only gets worse/more intense during sex. Amor is always acutely aware that Ale needs lots of love during sex and that she just needs to be Amor’s beautiful girl and she is more than willing to give that to her. Ale is just so in love with Amor that she couldn’t not be romantic. There’s not an ounce of degradation or roughness (being tied up and stuff, yes but no mean-rough stuff if that makes sense.)

Jack off

Ale literally cannot cum without Amor (described in more detail here) so she doesn’t really see the point in trying. Amor can cum without Ale but it’s definitely not as fun so she goes without. If they’re away on a tournament, they just have phone sex instead (so that’s a form of masturbation I guess) - perks of captaincies is their own rooms which they definite make use of towards the end of the longer tournaments/camps (Amor is VC of her national team)

Kink

Ale 1000% has a praise kink. She needs to know how well she is doing and how good she is for amor. Also mirror sex !! Not so much to watch herself but to watch her make Amor feel good. I’m not sure if this counts as a kink but Amor really loves cosy, soft sex during a thunderstorm. Beyond that Amor is an arse girlie through and through and will indulge Ale with a few spanks her and there

Location

Amor and Ale are pretty simple people - give em a bed and they’re happy. But overall, anywhere in their house/somewhere completely private (e.g., a hotel room) is a-ok too. Some of their best times have happened in the shower, on the kitchen counter, on the couch, one time they tried the stairs but Ale got carpet burn and Amor felt so bad she almost cried

Motivation

Literally anything gets these 2 going. But Ale thinks she might combust half the time whenever Amor speaks Spanish. Amor is a simple girl, a smile from Ale has her ready to drop her knickers there and then but she gets really worked up at the look Ale gives her when she receives a complement

No

Ale doesn’t want to do anything where she might be walked in on or found out in anyway. She has a line and she will stick to it (even hotel rooms on away games is too much for Ale). Amor isn’t comfortable doing anything that might actually hurt Ale - sometimes Ale thinks she needs physical pain or degradation but Amor knows that’s not what she actual needs and would never hurt Ale during sex, even if she was begging for it.

Oral

Oral is a must. Amor makes sure Ale has cum at least once by Amor’s mouth/fingers before she even considers a strap. Ale doesn’t really give Amor oral too much but when she does … oof, it’s her favourite thing and would die a happy woman if she could spend the rest of her life between Amor’s thighs

Pace

It’s usually on the slower/more sensual side of things. Amor knows what Ale needs and that’s usually soft and gentle with lots of reminders that’s Ale is Amor’s beautiful girl

Quickie

They definitely aren’t opposed to a quickie but it’s not on the top of the list. Amor wants to take her time and pull Ale apart piece by piece, making her cum again and again. And a quickie just doesn’t allow for that. But they aren’t opposed to it if the situation arises, although it’s usually a case of round 1 out and about in a bathroom somewhere (if it’s completely lockable) and round 2 and 3 (and maybe more) later on

Risk

They are definitely down to experiment with new things. A lot of their early relationship was experiments and figuring out what they both liked and didn’t like. But now they’ve found their groove, they’ve definitely got less risky with their ideas. When Ale did her knee, that was the most times they’ve ever experimented with new positions and things (it ended up being a lot of vibrators and things that Amor could hold against Ale rather than full on fucking)

Stamina

These gals are athletes and it shows. Sex is never just a one and done type thing (unless one of them isn’t in the headspace for more). Usually, Amor will make Ale cum at least twice, but 3 is the goal. Amor typically only cums once cos she knows any more than that and she won’t be able to give Ale the aftercare that she needs.

Toys

It’s toys galore in their bedroom. They have a sex toy dresser (it came about after Alba opened the wrong bedside cabinet drawer). They have 2 straps (one for each of them) and about 4 dildos - each varying in shape and size and thickness etc. they have 3 vibrators as well and Ale’s favourite is the vibrating dildo that attaches to Amor’s harness.

Unfair

Neither are particularly into teasing. Ale just needs a few kisses to get wet and Amor is no different. Amor’s preferred method of torture is overstimulation rather than denial or refusal. At most, Amor makes Ale hold it so they can cum together but that’s not really a punishment for Ale (she loves being able to cum with Amor)

Volume

Ale is loud! So loud that her and Amor have been banned from having sex during/after away games and tournaments. They’ve also had a few noise complaints from the neighbours. But Amor just can’t find it in herself to govern a rats arse. Amor loves that Ale is loud. She loves that she makes Ale feel so good that she can’t not be loud. Ale cums with the loudest moan, usually of ‘Amor’ or an ‘oh my god’. Amor is on the quieter side (unless she’s bigging it up cos Ale was being bratty). Amor is more of the panting/breathy type of person rather than the screaming shouting type of person. Amor usually cums with a silence scream (or the occasional quiet moan).

Wild card

Amor once made Ale cum just by touching/playing with her nipples and dirty talk. Amor wants to try it again sometime.

Xxx (kisses)

Ale gets so wet from kissing Amor. It’s her favourite activity. Kissing doesn’t always need to sex but it always starts it. Foreplay is everything to Amor and she knows just how quickly Ale can get worked up. A couple of kisses and a few strategically placed ones (mainly Ale’s neck and collarbone) and Ale’s good to go. Amor loves it when Ale leaves a few hickies on her. She pretends to be annoyed but she’s secretly so happy and it just stirs something inside her (like yes she’s Ale’s. Is that a kink, who knows?)

Yearning

They have sex at least once a week (on their off days usually) but most of the times it’s more than that. Have a late start to training? Sex. Finished early? Sex. Amor made Ale a nice dinner? Sex. They won a game? Sex. They drew a game? Sex. They lost a game? Sex. They went on a date night? Sex. Most often then not it’s sex 3-4 times a week

Zzzz

Ale gets fucked so good she’s practically dead on her feet and falls asleep very quickly. Amor tries to hold off for as long as possible, she loves watching/admiring Ale as she sleeps on her chest

[ashlynlovestlou]

au where abby and reader try to break up :( emphasis on try because they just can’t stay away from each other :( they keep talking and updating each other on things until its too much :( and they get back together :)

(i put my whole back into this pls be nice)

꩜ cw: no smut! abby x reader , reader works at a plant nursery , use of pet names

masterlist

the breakup was rough, to say the least. abby was your first everything. your first kiss, your first girlfriend, your first time, and your first everything. letting go of that was the most heartbreaking thing either of you had gone through.

for the first couple of days post-breakup you could hardly eat and sleep. your bed felt so cold and so empty without her next to you. you even made a lame attempt to line some pillows up to make it seem like she was there. and for a moment, it worked. but her warmth wasn't there for you to wrap yourself in. her heartbeat wasn't there to listen to. and her arms weren't there to hold you.

despite the fact that you were no longer together, you still talked. but less than you usually did. so many messages went unsent, so many calls you hesitated calling.

the first time either of you said something to one another was when you texted her about the job you had been wanting for months. she knew how much you wanted to work at the plant nursery down the street from your apartment, even before you split up. so when you got the email after your interview saying that you got the job, your immediate instinct was to tell abby.

"i got the job!" you had texted her.

"thats so amazing, sweet girl." she responded so quickly that it made you think she was anticipating you to text her, "i'm proud of you."

and just like nothing had happened, you were smiling down at your phone, just like you were before you started dating.

but that butterfly feeling in your stomach didn't last long. it fizzled out when you remembered you were no longer with her.

over the course of a few days you chatted about little things. your first day at your new job. abby's dog, alice, catching a squirrel in her backyard. little, minuscule check-ins. nothing too serious.

until a week later.

"want to get coffee?" she texted you one day, while you were busy watering plants in your denim overalls.

it caught you by surprise, to say the least, but you knew it wasn't a date. just two friends getting together for a cup of joe. not romantic. strictly platonic.

no matter how much you wanted to run back into her muscular arms and re-familiarize yourself with her touch, you couldn't. you shouldn't.

"sure." you text her shortly, without the need to ask which coffee shop or what time. while you were dating, you went every week to the same coffee shop at the same time on the same day and ordered the same drinks.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟthat weekend ｡┈┈⋆

the second you walked through the doors of the coffee shop your nostrils were filled with the scent you missed so much. freshly brewed coffee grounds and warm pastries. the faint sound of chattering from the patrons enjoying their own treats.

and there she was.

sitting at a two-top table, two drinks in front of her. she was already looking at you, as if drinking in your image. even though you were devastated and still a little heartbroken from the previous events of your relationship, you did a good job at finding distractions. which is probably why you don't look quite as miserable as she does.

"hey." she greets you as you sit down across from her, "i um.. i ordered the drink you usually got."

she remembered.

the mug was still warm, so she couldn't have been here long.

"thank you." you nod your head once, "you didn't have to do that."

"its no big deal." she shrugs, taking a sip of her coffee. black coffee, to be exact. you never understood how she liked the bitter taste of it, "how have you been?"

"good." you answer quickly. so quick that she has a hard time believing you. in reality, you were good. but you weren't great. you would never admit to her how you would accidentally cook too much food, because you were used to cooking for two people. you would never admit how many times you've accidentally set the table with two plates instead of one. how you would say 'i'm home!' when you walk through the door, even when nobody was there to listen, "i'm uh.. how about you? how are you?"

"im alright." she says.

but not good. you tell yourself in your head.

for a little while the two of you just chit-chat back and forth, talking about nonsense for half an hour before you notice abby fidgeting. she can't sit still, and you have a gut feeling you know exactly what's wrong.

"sweetheart, i cant keep doing this." she finally breaks, interrupting your rant about how you hate one of your coworkers.

"wait, huh? did i say something wrong?"

she shakes her head, glancing around the coffee shop like she's afraid to make eye contact with you, "we shouldn't have broken up."

oh.

your heart falls to the pit of your stomach, "what?"

"i need you more than i thought i did. i miss you."

you stare at her, eyes wide and lips slightly agape. you wanted to hear these words, but you never thought that you ever would, "are you.. are you serious?"

she nods her head, looking back at you.

"abby, i... i dont know."

"baby." she breathes deeply, desperate for your forgiveness, "dont make me beg."

you exhale, your cheeks burning crimson. you had waited so long for one of you to finally say something about the breakup. you waited so long for one of you to speak up about the need for the other.

without another moment of hesitation, you lean across the table, boldly smashing your lips into hers.

she tastes sweet, just as she always had. she was wearing coffee and the mint chapstick you left at her house and she never returned it, because she liked being able to have your taste with her.

she smiles against your lips, baring all her teeth. when you both pull away you can see her little dimples on her cheeks, the skin underneath her freckles a light shade of pink.

"so.." she says, folding her hands together in her bulky lap, "is that a yes?"

[pernesophe]

Kaji Tries to Use Pet Names

TW: MATURE CONTENT AT THE END: fluff, a little angst, suggestive. There’s an alternative smut ending (it’s clearly labeled so read at your own risk: cunnilingus, cock warming, food play (fruit), vaginal penetration (pnv), "good girl" used once). MDNI

Time periods and length of the relationship has been kept pretty vague, so please read under the assumption that both characters have aged up to at least 18yo for any smut portions, since they started at 17yo.

Synopsis: You call Kaji a pet name and he struggles to find one that fits for you, it’s silly btw.

Kaji x Timid Reader Master List. Main Wind Breaker Master List.

Obligatory: I have no rights to these characters or the works they come from, or any of the art, manga panels or screenshots used in these posts.

The Saturday Festival was lively and full of people bustling from booth to booth lining the main street in Furin. Your relationship with Kaji is still pretty new, though the two of you have grown more comfortable around each other these past few months - so while showing affection towards each other isn’t unusual, the two of you are still learning. One thing that hasn’t changed since the two of you first met, is that Kaji still calls you by your first name, and you still call him by his last name. Not because you prefer it, but no one else calls Kaji ‘Ren’ - even his good friends and seconds - so ‘Kaji’ is just more familiar to you. He hasn’t expressed that he would like to be called something else either, but some of his peers have mentioned it from time to time - wondering if the two of you are still just in that awkward phase, or fizzling out. Unfortunately, this has led to some insecurities on his part that he hasn’t even realized yet.

Those insecurities started to surface all throughout the festival today, the only thing he seemed to hear when you called for his attention was “Kaji”. ‘Oh Kaji - look, they have a specialty sweets booth’ ; ‘Oh my God, Kaji - look at how big those suckers are!’ Babbling on excitedly as you pointed to different things and got lost in the excitement of the festival. Each utterance of his last name was like nails on a chalkboard, and he just couldn’t place why. To anyone who didn’t know you and Kaji were dating, it would still be obvious by the way you grin up at him with moon eyes, and tug on his sleeve to gently pull him towards some other thing you think he would love, but still a small pang twists in his chest with every repetition of his last name. Though, you have no idea what he’s thinking, you can tell something is bothering him as his eyes seem distant and he was only smiling when he returned your saccharine ones.

Kaji was close to asking if the two of you could call it for the evening, when suddenly you spotted a booth with a giant sign on top that drew your gaze immediately. Sat in the center of the booth was an older couple who seemed to be running it. The booth contained mostly oddities just from a glance at the mixture of goods. Authentic, traditional weapons - battle axes, katanas, medieval maces, all the way down to ornate daggers and athames with whimsically carved wooden handles - hung on the walls and were laid methodically on pillowed tabletops. Interspersed with the severe looking merchandise were homemade soaps, bath salts, traditional good luck charms, mortar and pestles made of stone and crystal, and small landscape polaroids taken in and around Makochi (from what a sign on the table indicated). The older man looked rather tall - despite being seated - with sun wrinkled cheeks, and a scowl to run off any potential customer. Next to him sat an older woman with happy crows feet by her eyes, and a smile so welcoming it overshadowed his scowl. Most interestingly, when you saw a young girl walk up and ask about the polaroids, and the woman bashfully said they were hers but they weren’t that good, you overheard the man pipe up with a proud smile twisting his scowl upwards. 

“Her photos have been featured in museums from northern Japan to here. You’ll never be able to visit these places like this again,” he says pointing at the polaroid in the girl’s hand. “She captured all of these before the area was developed into cityscapes.” He said as he peered down at his blushing wife with a wide grin now. The young girl wasted no time forking over the few coins for the photo, teary eyed as she watched how the man looked at his wife with envy in her own eyes, and a small hope that someone will look at her like that someday. Tearing your eyes away from the heartfelt scene before you as you finally take a closer look at the sign. The booth was named “The Tiger and His Mouse” with a severe looking white Bengal Tiger centered under the words. On top of the painted Tiger’s head, was an adorable little brown cartoon mouse that was wearing a frilly apron and leaning on the Tiger’s ear with one hand, and the other positioned on her hip. Though the Tiger’s teeth were bared, its eyes were turned up with a joyful glint towards the mouse on its head. Without thinking much of it, you grab Kaji’s hand fully - lacing your fingers with his - which startles him a bit, but then you turn to him with the widest grin he’s seen all night.

“Honey, look! It’s us!” The word falls from your lips so naturally as you point excitedly towards the sign and then the adorable older couple sitting under it. Turning back, with the biggest eyes and the all too familiar saccharine grin, as you go to pull him towards the booth. Kaji is still in shock from the pet name you used, and the fact that he liked it… like a lot. In that moment it starts to click for him that that’s what he’s been craving from you - a term of affection meant for him. 

As you speak excitedly with the older woman about her products like old friends - Kaji and the older man are like two birds of a feather as their scowls smooth out to reveal adoring expressions cast your and the woman’s way. They didn’t exchange any words as they watched the women they love interact with each other, but as you happily paid (more than) what the polaroid is listed as before saying goodbye - Kaji and the older man exchanged a simple look of mutual appreciation and a meaningful nod before leaving the booth.

The sinking feeling Kaji had felt throughout the day whenever you said his last name rather than “Ren” dissipated completely as he replayed that one word over and over in his head. No one has ever called him ‘honey’ before, and before you he would have never accepted being called something so sweet, but now as you use it with more frequency after the festival - he couldn’t imagine that word ethereally draped in your kind voice not being directed his way.

Though, eventually this led to much teasing from his friends and people around Furin as to what he calls you. When he simply said “Y/N”, they gave him questioning looks as to why he doesn’t have a pet name for you. At that moment, Kaji was struck by shock and guilt at the realization that you may be feeling the same way he had been feeling at the festival. That night, in a panic, Kaji began researching different pet names and making lists to try out on you. He never practiced uttering any of them unless the two of you were completely alone, to avoid any more added embarrassment he could feel about it. It didn’t take you long to pick up on what he was doing, but you didn’t burst his bubble by informing him that you love it when he calls you by your first name. He just looked so determined any time he tried a new one, and you adored the embarrassed blush that crept over his face every single time. You were careful not to be rude, or to let him think you were ever laughing at him for it, but sometimes it did lead to comical interactions.

“Sw-Sweet… Sweetie?” Kaji stuttered out the word from behind you - you're facing the sink in the kitchen. Stifling a laugh at his unsure tone, and doubling your restraint when you turn to see the deep furrow of his brow and the unmistakable blush of shame creeping down his neck - you offer an unphased ‘mhm?’ to him as you tilt your head. Sighing deeply, he drops his head and shakes despairingly. “Forget it - forget that I said that. That one wasn’t good.” Groaning out to try and ease some of his burning nerves, and you nod along with his statement. Again, you aren’t disparaging or mean when you tell him your opinion, but you are honest.

“Yeah. I don’t think it fits me, or you.” Agreeing with a gentle grin as you dry your hands before coming to wrap them around his neck. “You’ll figure something out, honey.” The words of encouragement turn sultry at the end before you plant a kiss on his cheek, and then Kaji is blushing for a completely different reason.

It still takes a few months for Kaji to go through the entire list of Pet Names. Well, almost the entire list - he was avoiding using ‘babe’ from the start because it just seemed too cliche. After months of trying again, and again, just to embarrass himself - he decided what more is there to lose? The two of you were sitting on your couch, watching a movie, and Kaji isn’t paying attention at all, his eyes keep drifting to you in his periphery as he psychs himself up to say the last name on the list.

“Ba-” Kaji starts to say, but then your eyes are meeting his as his nerves fray apart and the air is punching out of his lungs, cutting the word off short. He only recovers enough to try and eek out the end of the word, but it comes out wrong since he still feels breathless. 

“-ob…” Kaji stares at you, frozen, as the last syllable leaves his lips and he suddenly drops his face into his hands, and before you can say anything, he emits a deep, long groan. “Why is this so hard?” His voice drones through your living room.

Even though you had been so good for months - not laughing, joking, or doing anything to make him feel worse - the dam finally broke with his slip up as your body began shaking with silent laughter. Before Kaji can notice - and run away - you push him back against the couch and straddle his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck. Once you are secured in place, and escape is no longer a viable option for your shy boyfriend, finally you release your giggles like rain overflowing a gutter. Apologizing the whole way while peppering kisses along the column of his throat as you card your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck.

If you hadn’t intertwined yourself with him and showered him with affection, he would have thought you were making fun of him, and though he couldn’t tell what your giggles meant exactly, he was certain it meant something good for him. Silently, he wraps his arms around your waist and absentmindedly draws circles on your back with his fingertips until you finally quiet down, and though his face doesn’t show it - he allows himself to relish in your blatant affections.

“Bob?” Chirping out as you finally lean back and wipe your tears. “I’ve never heard that one before, how’d you come up with it?” Leaning closer to him again as you pin him under those big sparkling eyes and tilt your head adorably to punctuate your question. Kaji’s eyes widen slightly at the realization that you didn’t hear his mess up, and half of him considers saving face and lying, but he doesn’t.

“I was trying to say… babe…” Admitting sheepishly as he dips his head towards your chest and hides his face from you. Despite your attempts, you are struck with another fit of giggles as you wrap your arms around his white head of hair and place a kiss to the top of his head where a scar has formed from that fight all those months ago. Kaji wasn’t upset about your reaction, but he'd be lying if he didn’t say he was bewildered - he knows what it’s like to be made fun of for being vulnerable, but this didn’t feel like that. Once your giggles die down again, you gently take his face in your hands and tilt his head back so he’s looking up at you. He’s not surprised to see your larger than life eyes glowing at him, cheeks reddened from giggling, and the unflappable saccharine smile directed straight at him - but he is awestruck by you regardless.

“I like it.” Stating decisively, snapping him out of his revere as he shakes his head up at you with an adorable notch in his brow and pout on his lips. “I think it’s cute, and funny, and I think it fits us.” Rushing to tell him your reasons why before he can say no, and he gives you a dubious look in response. “You can always keep calling me by my first name, that’s fine, but I’m never gonna forget this, or how adorable you were the first time you said it.” Assuring him quickly as you let out another giggle remembering his reaction from earlier. Once again, he buries his face in your chest and squeezes you tighter against him, but eventually his low muffled tone drifts to your ears.

“Okay… Then what are we doing for dinner tonight, Bob?” Murmuring experimentally, while he shoots you a look that says ‘why are you making me do this?’ His eyes were devoid of any malice though - only a loving jest. Giggling giddily at his expression while stroking the hair at the nape of his neck as you bend down to kiss his forehead with soft lips.

“You tell me - I can do whatever you want, honey.” Whispering softly into his snowy locks, something you meant to be sweet and kind, but as the sultry words ring in your ears - you freeze, and Kaji does too. Leaning back, your shocked gaze meets his equally shocked one as a matching blush creeps across both of your faces. “I didn’t mean… I was just trying to be sweet…” Explaining quickly as you try and fail to hide your embarrassment. Kaji feels his eyes become half lidded as he regards your blushing cheeks, pouty lips, thick lashes and the way your hair falls around your shoulders - framing you in the low light. Grabbing your upper arms gently, and then he pulls you towards him again, where he brushes your lips softly with his - earning a surprised look from you.

“How about I order takeout, and then we can worry about what I want for dessert?” He offers in a low, gravelly voice tinged with heat and smoke. Breath hitches in your throat, you didn’t know Kaji knew how to use his voice like that, but you don’t dwell on it too long as you quickly agree with a bashful smile. He flashes you a rare, wide grin that shows off his canines which accentuate the predatory glint in his eye, and suddenly you are struck with this eerie feeling that you may be dessert tonight.

NSFW Alternative Ending Below (where reader say Kaji’s First Name for the first time):

“Okay… Then what are we doing for dinner tonight, Bob?” Mumbling the name experimentally, while he shoots you a look that says ‘why are you making me do this?’, but there was no malice in the look, only loving jest. Giggling slyly, you press your thrumming core a little harder onto his length that’s been twitching under your weighted warmth this whole time, as you place a soft kiss to his temple. Immediately, his ears burn bright red as he looks up at you in surprise - his pupils already blown wide.

“I’m not sure…” Drawling out as you make a show of placing a finger on your chin to ponder the question, but the way your eyes glint tells Kaji you already know. “I’m craving something sweet. Do you have any suggestions, honey?” Heat laces your seductively sweet tone as your gaze darkens, and you slowly bend down to brush your lips against his, earning a strangled gasp from the man under you. “Because I have some ideas if not…” Whispering in a full on sultry tone now as you nip playfully at his bottom lip.

Kaji whines involuntarily as your teeth tug gently on his lip, and you take advantage of the opportunity to slip your tongue into his unsuspecting mouth. Though he jumps at first, then he quickly melts into you and lets you slide your tongue along his and flick it impishly. Once the need for air burns in your lungs, you release his eager mouth and lean back and study his alluringly shocked face. A pretty pink blush dusts across his cheeks that make his cerulean eyes sparkle up at you as it takes him a few moments to recover. 

It’s not like the two of you haven’t been intimate before, but you rarely take the initiative and never like this. So Kaji barely knows how to react when you begin slowly grinding down on his hardened length that’s pressing up into your inviting core - pushing wanton moans and gasps from your chest as your panties grow wet against his clothed bulge. Grabbing your hips tightly, Kaji moves on instinct as his shock transforms into unbridled desire. Shifting your hips back and forth, harder and faster, while pressing you down onto his throbbing bulge, Kaji hisses as the friction starts to affect him too. Grasping at his wrists and shaking your head slightly as your puffy lips fall open into an ‘o’. Your boyfriend has become familiar with this face by now, and begins grinding up against you in tandem with moving your hips to quicken your release.

“Ren! I’m gonn- don’t wan’ to yet! Please, Ren!” Whiny pleas fall from your lips as you keep grasping desperately at his wrists and finally meet his starving eyes with your begging ones. Kaji’s brain blue screens as you say his first name - for the first time - made ten times worse by the fact that you were moaning it so sinfully. Before he knows it, you’re underneath him and your back is flush with the cushions with your clothes strewn over the couch and on the floor. Kaji stripped just as quickly - only in his boxers now - and was kneeling between your thighs, his hands gripping the backs of them and pushing your knees towards your chest. Face to face with your glistening folds as his nose bumps your clit causing you to gasp ‘Ren’ again - he responds with a low growl in his throat.

“Keep saying my name just like that Y/N. I want you to call me by my name anytime I have you like this.” As he speaks his breath fans your trembling lips, and then - wasting no time - he licks a stripe from your slick entrance up to your sensitive bud. He must have been starving too, because as soon as you whined his first name again, he enveloped your whole cunt in his mouth as he kissed her messily. It only takes a few minutes before your orgasm is bursting behind your eyes and liquid electricity is buzzing through your veins straight to your pulsing hole. Kaji obviously had no intention of taking it slow, and hadn’t nearly had his fill yet, but luckily has kept enough of his senses to let you regain some of your composure before he’s tongue deep in your folds once more. Bumping his nose repeatedly on your clit as he shoves his tongue deep enough to sweep over you pulsing walls and just barely flick and tickle that spongy spot that has you arching your back and keening your head into the pillows. Placing your hands on the couch cushions, you begin to push away as overstimulation crashes over you, but Kaji isn’t letting you run away from what you started. 

Snaking his hands under your ass where he grips onto you hard and lifts you off the pillows so your legs splay open even more - giving him even more access to your drooling cunt. Your boyfriend had turned absolutely feral as he groaned into your core repeatedly around his tongue plunging in and out of your fluttering hole - savoring every drop of your sweet nectar that flooded into his mouth. Opening your mouth to try and tell him how good it all feels, but the only words you can manage is a string of “Ren! Ah! Ren! Ren!” which only makes his ministrations more intense. By your third, or fourth (?) orgasm all you could do was moan unintelligibly as your body lay limply in his hands and under his lips, a steady stream of liquid leaking from your clenching hole and down his chin. 

Finally, he releases you and lays you back down on the couch, where all you can do is reel and heave for air as you come down from your high while looking at him through half lidded, lust-filled eyes. Kaji was still kneeling between your thighs - bulge especially prominent now with a drop of precum seeped into the fabric - his hair sticks to his face in some places from sweat, and your slick covers his mouth and drips down his chin. Not even bothering to wipe it away, because his hands are glued to the insides of your thighs to hold them apart as he stares hungrily down at your still pulsing cunt.

“Re-” You start to say, but the second he hears his name start to roll off your tongue his eyes darken and snap up to your face, so you swiftly cut yourself off. Suddenly you knew intimately well what a gazelle feels like when being hunted as your boyfriend’s predatory eyes rake down your body back to your weeping hole. “Kaji,” you start again, and this time he looks at you like the fog has cleared from his brain a bit. “I think I need a little break…” you admit, a little embarrassed. Nodding slowly, as if it’s taking a moment for the words to fully sink in, and then - once your words have proceeded - he’s climbing off the couch to retrieve a wet rag to clean you up. He brings you water afterwards, and then orders take out (the place you love without even asking - he already knows your order by heart). You’re thoroughly touched by how well he’s taking care of you, he usually does, but this time he seems to take extra care. After you finish eating, you realize why.

Seated on the couch in one of Kaji’s tshirts that dwarfs you completely, and no panties - Kaji didn’t bring you any, but you assumed he just forgot. The take out had been finished and trays cleared away when your snowy haired boyfriend brought in an extra takeout bag and set it on the coffee table. As you reached for the bag with a small smile, he subtly scooted it out of your reach. Shooting him a quizzical look, Kaji averts his gaze for a moment, and then looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“This may sound weird, but I wanna try something with you…” Speaking slowly as he tilts his head down to look at you more intensely, so you sit back as your expression turns curious, but you nod for him to continue. “I still feel…” Gesturing down at the sweatpants he’s now wearing where you can still see a prominent bulge. “Pent up.” He finally states, eyes searching your face for any sign of understanding or rejection. Instead, you just nod slowly - waiting to see where this goes. “Have you ever heard of cockwarming?” Asking the question with a pointed look at the coffee table instead of your face as a blush creeps over his cheeks. In truth, you had, as it’s been one of your fantasies for a long time now, but giving nothing away, you just nod slowly again. 

“Could we-” The question barely leaves his mouth as he tries to think of exactly how to ask. After a long moment, he looks at you dead on with those cool blue eyes that have turned heated and hungry once again. “I want you to cockwarm me while I feed you this,” he says in a low voice as he gestures to the take out bag. Gaze zeroing in on the bag in front of you as your expression turns even more curious and you tilt your head as you look up at him once more. At that, Kaji leans down and pulls out a small take out tray filled with fancy cut fruit - mangoes, strawberries, watermelon and raspberries. Then, he stands there staring at you intently and waiting for your response. As you meet his gaze over the coffee table, you wordlessly nod as you pull his tshirt over your head - leaving you completely naked. Kaji’s eyes light up as he all but pounces on you.

Now, Kaji is naked too and sitting on the couch with his back pressed to the cushions with you straddling his lap reverse cowgirl style - back pressed to his chest. His strong hands are securely on your hips with your hands laid lightly over them as the tip of his cock has only just started stretching the tight ring of muscle at your entrance. Holding onto the last vestiges of his control, Kaji helps you slowly sink down onto his throbbing length - he presses his canines into your throat and hisses against your skin as your eager pussy clenches around him the whole way. Once he’s fully bottomed out, and your legs are draped on the outside of his - spreading you wide - Kaji wraps his arms around your waist and reaches up to cup your breasts, then he buries his face in your neck while you both get adjusted. After a few long minutes, and once your fluttering hole has calmed down, Kaji reaches over and presses play on the remote as some lofi playlist with a relaxing background starts on the TV.

After everything is finally set up, Kaji slowly brings his hands down to your legs and closes them before hooking an arm under your knees and gently twisting you on his cock so your legs remain closed and draped over his lap instead - his length still buried deep in your heat. Peering down at you with those intense ceruleans as he takes in your slightly parted lips and the way your body subtly arches when his cock twitches inside of you. With one arm braced around your back, he uses his other hand to cup your cheek and plant a gentle kiss to your lips, and then he presses more into the kiss. Opening your mouth with his, he explores with his tongue the same as before, and licks lovingly at your lips when he pulls away. Even taking a moment to stroke his thumb over your pouty bottom lip before pulling his hand away and grabbing a mango from the tray beside him. 

Swallowing thickly as he brings the large piece of fruit to your lips, and you shyly bite down into it, your cheeks burn under his unblinking gaze. Instantly, juice dribbles down your chin and drips onto one of your breasts traveling down to your pert nipple, and without missing a beat Kaji licks the juice off your nipple with the tip of his tongue before flattening it to your breast and licking a firm stripe along the trail up to your lips where he places teasing kittenlicks to taste the sweet liquid there. This would’ve been enough to drive you mad, but the cherry on top was that the tip of Kaji’s cock repeatedly twitching into your G-Spot sends jolt after jolt of pleasure up your spine. At first, your gummy walls clenched around him involuntarily, but with each twitch your clenches become more purposeful just to get a little closer to climax. Kaji continued this process of feeding you the biggest, juiciest piece of fruit just so he could then chase the stray droplets with his tongue over the soft dips and curves of your body while his cock twitched deeply inside of you. In return your slick cunt clenched around him again, and again, and again. But when you begin slowly rocking your hips to get more friction, Kaji suddenly stops all together.

“Kaji…” Emitting a pathetically desperate whine from the back of your throat, and you can’t figure out if it’s for this torture to continue or to stop. He just looks down at you with a deadpan expression and a cock of his brow. After a long moment of silence, you whine up at him again - without saying his name this time.

“Ren.” Correcting you as he leans down and nips at your shiny bottom lip before continuing. 

“I need you to be a good girl - sit still - and let me feed you. Can you do that for me?” Commanding you at first, and then he goes as far as asking in that authoritative tone that made any protest die on your lips and a torrent of heat to build where the two of you connect. Nodding shyly at him while meeting his gaze through thick lashes, and lips still pulled into an adorable pout. “Hm? Can you say it for me Y/N?” Asking again in a soft, sultry tone that you’ve never heard him use before as he brings a ripened strawberry to your mouth, but just out of reach as he tilts his head - patiently waiting for your answer. You hesitate momentarily, so with a mischievous grin and a twitch of his length jolting into that spongy bundle of nerves causes you to arch into him as a moans tumbles from your open mouth and your eyelids flutter shut.

“I’ll-ha be good-haa for you-ahh, Ren.” Whispering through another moan as your cheeks burn from embarrassment, and he smiles cooly down at you which only makes your pussy thrum around him as a whine falls past your lips. Chuckling softly, he brings the piece of fruit the rest of the way to your lips so you can bite into it, and you end up spraying juices all down the front of you this time. Kaji was deliberately slow in licking them up, dragging his tongue teasingly slow over the expanse of your sticky body that he could reach, and since you weren’t allowed to move you forced yourself to relax - not realizing how euphoric all of this would feel when you just let go.

Kaji was deliberately choosing larger and juicier pieces of fruit as he continued to feed you, so that he could build you closer to your climax by mapping his tongue across your body. Feeling your weight shift as you relaxed into him - no longer attempting to move, or tense from the desire to move - it seemed like you were choosing to just let him do as he pleased with your body. Inhaling deeply against your soft skin and then releasing it slowly - you wouldn’t have noticed except it tickles fanning over your skin - he just barely stops himself from going completely feral again as you submit to him wholly.

As your breathing becomes more uneven, and in your relaxed state it becomes easier for Kaji to gauge when you are about to cum, so when you grow nearer he begins rhythmically twitching his cock so its thick mushroom tip is rubbing and stroking that spot that brings tears to your eyes. His mouth latches on to your nipple to suck off the juice as the twitching becomes more persistent, and then the coil snaps in your belly and suddenly your whole being is trembling in Kaji’s arms. Tightening his grip around your body, and tilting your head forward so it rests on his shoulder as he continues swirling his tongue around your pert nipple. At the same time, he is twitching in tandem with your clenching - helping you to ride out the overwhelming euphoric buzz rushing through your body. Your creamy release coats him and gathers at the base of his cock before spilling down onto his thighs where yours were still laid over his, drenching both of you from waist to thighs.

Kaji is so focused on the overwhelming sensation of you, that he almost misses the sound filling the room as your whining and babbling is interspersed with his name in repetition. “Ren! Mmmm, Ren… I want more Ren, please…” Begging desperately, and as he looks over your face he sees that you’re far too fucked out to even notice the drool that’s dribbled from the side of your mouth during your climax, or that your legs are still shaking so bad Kaji has to literally hold you down so you don’t tremble off of his lap. A chuckle puffs past his lips before he leans forward and licks the drool from your chin and then presses a chaste kiss to your lips. Even still, he can taste a medley of summer fruit as he pulls away and swipes the remaining droplets of juice from his lips with the tip of his tongue. Then, he rubs your back soothingly as he peppers chaste kisses over your neck, to your collarbone, and down to the swell of your breasts while you recover from your high. Knowing you’re good when your body has stopped trembling so badly, but when his gaze meets yours once more and all he sees is heat and unbridled want there, he gulps.

“Ren, more… please…” Is all you have to softly murmur against his lips, and Kaji’s restraints have all but melted away as he picks you up - causing him to slip out of you as you both hiss from the loss of connection - and then he lays you on the “L” shaped part of the couch. Not daring to waste a second as he stands between your parted thighs, grabs your hips and lifts you so he could press his throbbing length back to your entrance and bottom out in one swift thrust. Looking down at you with that starved expression once more, he then flashes you a rare grin that shows his prominent canines.

“Hold onto something.” Is all the warning you receive before he’s drawing his hips back, until the tip of his cock is just barely still inside of you, and then slams his hips into yours. Flailing to grab anything before Kaji sets his pace, and you have to settle for the edge of the cushion as you dig your fingernails in and hold on for dear life. It takes no time for Kaji’s thrusts to turn punishing as your house is filled with sounds of wet skin slapping and high pitched mewls from the back of your throat. The gentle twitching of his cock that sent you over the edge earlier felt like heaven, so it made sense that this would feel like hell. 

Hell as in the primal, hedonistic way. Everything felt so overwhelmingly good that you couldn’t even control your voice - your mind was mush - you’ve been babbling but you have no idea what words pass your lips. The blood in your veins sings with the desire for release, and yet it also burns for the need to stave it off - to allow this feeling to stretch into the night and maybe even the early morning hours. Your skin prickles with overstimulation that makes you want to jerk away, but - learning from earlier - as you forced your body to relax and just feel it, the overstimulation was accompanied by a cooling breeze as the prickles moved about your body. All you could do is let your legs lay limply, and then Kaji finally takes the initiative to change position. Whining desperately as he stops his movements, but he shushes you and kisses away your frustrated tears before putting your legs together so the backs of your thighs are flush with his abdomen and your ankles are by his cheek. Pressing right back into your fluttering hole without any hesitation, Kaji resumes his punishing pace and you are plunged right back into that hot-sweet hell that you don’t really want to escape from.

Kaji is getting close and you can tell, because his hips start to stutter and break up his rhythm, so he goes to work you even closer to your orgasm as well. Bracing your thighs against his chest with one arm, and pressing a gentle kiss to your ankle as he looks down at you with dark desire, he then reaches his free hand down so his thumb is pressed into that sensitive bundle of nerves. “Ren” encased in wanton moans echo from your parted lips, along with a string of ‘ah ah ah ah ah’s!’ as your gummy walls clamp down on him and the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt rushes through the entirety of your being. Clear liquid sprays your thighs and Kaji’s abdomen, and he watches the entire event with starstruck eyes - like you just put on an entire show just for him. Which to be fair, you did. With you falling to pieces below him - messy, wet, and babbling still with tears in your eyes - Kaji’s climax is imminent as he slams his hips flush to yours. Burying himself as deeply as he can before his cock is twitching wildly and painting your walls with white ropes of his release. After his breathing has steadied some, Kaji gently lays you back on the couch and then collapses next to you and folds you into his arms for a crushing embrace. The two of you bask in the afterglow for a while, and then you peer up at him through the corner of your eye with a teasing smile playing on your lips as you finally break the silence.

“Weeelllllll…” Starting out low and ending with an upward inflection of your tone, elongating the word as well, and drawing Kaji’s tired eyes to you. “I’m glad I called you honey at that festival and not your first name - it would’ve been quite scandalous.” Teasing your overly relaxed boyfriend as you giggle softly against his chest, but Kaji gives no reaction to your teasing. He simply turns to fix you with a deadpan stare.

”Yeah true, by the way, you can only call me that in private…” Murmuring flatly, and yet he sets the boundary firmly before continuing. “I don’t know why, but it just does things to me when you say it… So, yeah I may be at risk of causing a scandal if you say it in public.” Stating in a deadpan tone to match his expression - so you know he isn’t joking - before pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your hairline. Grateful to be hidden against his chest, because you’re blushing so bad you have to be glowing at this point.

Now, hours after the fact, you and Kaji are clean and dressed in PJ’s laying in bed as you think over the night and his smoked honey touches. How his mouth and hands may become harsh at times, but that he always soothes away whatever pleasurable sting he may have inflicted to your ever willing body. Always you are reminded of the depth of which he cares for you. It always happens at times like these, as he’s wrapped his body snugly around yours and is drifting off to sleep, that you can’t help but replay some of the intimate things Kaji does that makes your heart weep for the you that hadn’t known him yet. 

After some of the exhaustion had ebbed, your snowy haired lover had carried you off to the bathroom shortly after your “talk” and took great care in washing the sticky juices from you - even washing and conditioning your hair (even though he somehow managed to not get any juice in it). After finding you the fluffiest and most absorbent towel, he began combing your hair and parting it before applying your after shower products. It always surprised you how quickly Kaji had picked up on it, and that he just took it upon himself to start doing it one day. This was before the two of you had ever really done anything intimate other than making out and maybe some heavy petting. 

If he would show up at your house while you were still in the shower, your mom - who was very trusting of your boyfriend from the get go - would beckon him in and would just tell him to make himself comfortable in your room while he waited. Though he was thoroughly perplexed by her trusting nature, much like he was with you, he would chill out on your bed until you finished. The first time you came into the room in just your towel you almost screamed and he slapped his hands over his eyes, but after that you learned to just throw on a big tshirt in the bathroom. Kaji watched you with intrigue as you did your after shower hair routine the first time, and for the following weeks after that. Over time, he noticed that it was much more extensive than his dye routine, and it seemed necessary for the texture of your hair. A concerned notch would form in his brow when sometimes you would take little breaks and heave out a sigh from your arms getting tired. 

One day when he came to hang out, you entered your room to find him in the chair by your vanity and when you sat down in your vanity chair and unwrapped your hair - he grabbed your comb first. “I wanna do this for you,” he had murmured so sweetly as he looked at you through his impossibly thick lashes. Kaji being simply too adorable to refuse, you dumbly nodded without a word and turned to face your mirror and watched him as he meticulously did your hair. Despite some pointers on how hard to twist, scrunch, or how much product to apply - he was basically a pro already from watching and learning from your unknowing demonstrations. Even better, on occasion when you were feeling extra stressed, he would start with massaging your scalp before moving onto the products. It had felt so intimate the first time he did it that you cried despite how good it felt, which of course terrified him, but once you explained that you cried because you just felt so cared for - he actually started to play with your hair and stroke your head outside of those times as well. 

Sometimes, you would even catch him out of the corner of your eye grasping a small lock of your hair and bringing it to his nose to smell you, but you never brought it up and whoever else may have witnessed the adoring act knew better than to mention it too. Funnily enough, even though right now he’s dozing, as you peer over at him you notice that he’s grasping a lock of your hair between two sleepy fingertips and has it pressed to his nose as he dreams.

[whoahoney]

Eddie from Chili’s Pt 3

Waiter!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: After weeks of talking and texting, the stars (and schedules) finally align and it’s finally date night. Buckle up, baby. 💖

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mature language, slight angst, reader is nervous af but so is Eddie, allusions to smut, innuendos, weed smoking, lots of kissing and fluff!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie wasn’t a stranger to romance, by any means. He’d taken quite a few girls out on successful evening adventures and had done (close to) it all— dinners, movies, picnics, carnivals, festivals, concerts, rock climbing, you name it. He took pride in his creative ideas, most of them ending very well with a sleepover or quickie in the car with promises of second or third dates.

But no matter the passion and intensity that fueled their date, one of three things always happened; it would fizzle out, there’d be no real connection, or they couldn’t handle his schedule.

Eddie seemed to attract the girls that always wanted an adventure, the kind that wanted a fairy tale romance with extravagance and constant attention, which aren’t bad things to want, necessarily, he just wasn’t equipped for it.

So tonight, as he searched his closet for something to wear, he doubted his plan for the hundredth time.

You didn’t seem like one of those girls. Based off his impressions of you, you’d like to be cozy at home with a good book or a movie to watch. But if he’d asked you to spend the evening at his place to do just that, you’d probably get the wrong idea.

He sighed and dragged his hands down his face, sitting down on his unmade bed with shirts and pants thrown haphazardly around the room. “Dak!” He called through his hands. “DAAAAK” he cried until his door flew open with urgency.

“What?!” His older brother asked.

“Help me.”

“What?” He deadpanned.

“Help me.” He sat up and dropped his hands, his state somber as he help up two shirts.

“You’re not serious.” Dakota looked him over. “You’re not actually nervous right now, are you?”

“Sadly, I am deeply serious.” He shook his head at himself, in disbelief and almost disgust, “And that’s why I can’t dress myself right now.”

“Look at me, man.” Dakota crossed the room and put his hands on Eddie’s tattooed shoulders. “That girl has got it so bad for you already.” Despite his brothers assurance, Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m serious!”

Eddie swatted away his brothers hands and walked over to the closet again, “Every time you look at your phone, you’re smiling.” Dak added.

“Not every time—“

“Every time it’s her, dumbass.” Dak rolled his eyes.

“So what?” Eddie grabbed yet another black band tee from the closet to look over.

“So! You act like you’re already in a relationship.”

Eddie scoffed, “How??”

“You haven’t been working your tables like you do!” Dak accused, and was already prepared with another reason before Eddie could roll his eyes one more time. “Those girls at brunch today! Two of them were making major eyes at you, one of them touched you and left a number and you didn’t do a thing!”

Eddie scoffed.

“—and I know you’re going out on the balcony at night to talk to her!” Dakota said with a smile, watching Eddie’s blush bloom.

“No, I just happen to be smoking when we decide to talk on the phone.” He shrugged and pulled the shirt over his head. “Thanks for nothing.” He pulled on his jacket and looked in the mirror.

Dakota rolled his dark eyes this time and sat on the bed, “Every night?”

“What? It’s not every night.”

“For the last two weeks, almost!” Dakota recalled quickly.

Eddie froze. It had been three weeks since you’d come back to the restaurant. Only three weeks had passed since he got your number and kissed you, actually kissed you. Since you’d started texting, the conversation hadn’t stopped.

You’d been great over the phone, your shyness only indicated by how long you took to type out a response, which he found very endearing, still. Your conversations ranged from the day to day of your work lives to why your favorite songs are your favorites, and who introduced you to your favorite snack and how you always have a bag in the cabinet. How certain books make you sit it down to take a breath and calm down and how you feel fictional things too viscerally sometimes.

Eddie loved that his phone was never dry anymore, finding himself lingering on every text bubble that bounced in wait for the next question you’d have for him. Girls seemed to ask the same questions, about his tastes and his history, but never why he still watches his favorite cartoon every night before bed or why he wears his moms rings on his right hand and not his left.

He hadn’t experienced this kind of infatuation before, so he tried not to count too much on it lasting—but it did.

“I like her! That’s not a secret!” Eddie says, sitting next to him to tie his shoes. Dakota smiles and looks down at Eddie’s glowing screen.

A notification from Snapchat with your name popped up, Dakota’s eyes going wide, “And you have her on snap?”

You’d added each other on snapchat before a week had passed, Eddie asking if you had one because he wanted to see your pretty face. You were thankful to not have to be the one to ask because you wondered about the same thing, he had the personality for it though, like he’d thrive on it or avoid it completely.

But Eddie liked snapchat. It wasn’t public, and his circle of friends were the only people he had on it. And now you were apart of that, too.

You loved watching his stories, the shenanigans he got up to at work and home were updated almost regularly. You’d seen him practice with his band, smoke in his car singing to music you’ve never heard, make drinks and salads at work with his hours in the caption and an invitation for his friends to “come see me, fuckers!!!!”

“My point is, little brother—

“Fuck offff—“

“—C’mon let me do my job.” Dakota looks at him pointedly. Eddie nods for him to continue. “No matter what you do tonight, she’s gonna have a great time. Cause it’s with you. And you guys already have a connection! I don’t recall you talking to anyone this much before a date.”

Eddie sighed and nodded. “You’re right.” He fought a smile by picking up his phone and opening the picture you took in a mirror.

‘Is this suitable? No scuba gear needed?’

Eddie chuckled to himself before he looked over your outfit in the frame and swallowed hard. You wore a fitted black skirt with a black knotted graphic tee, your legs covered by black sheer hose and black docs on your feet. You held a denim jacket in your hand and your hair was done the same way he’d seen it last.

He was thankful for the lack of time limit on the message, tempted to save it forever.

“My point proven.” Dakota stood and waved to the phone. Eddie groaned with a smile that Dakota returned.

“Stick to your plan, Ed, it’s a good one!” He called as he treaded down the hall, off to prepare for his own company tonight.

Eddie looked back down at the picture, at your lined eyes and glossed lips. He sighed and took a screenshot.

He flopped backwards on the bed, his arms flailed out and eyes closed before he had the idea to snap a picture of himself and draw x’s over his eyes.

‘So gorgeous you knocked me dead.’

He wanted to roll his eyes at himself, but he couldn’t because he had it on good authority it would make you smile.

And it absolutely did.

You fell into your couch, clutching your phone at the sight of him. His curls were perfect and his tattoos peeked out of the collar of his shirt. You groaned to yourself in agony—how dare he be so hot!!!

And funny!!!

He was always sending you something to make you smile—‘Avaca—don’t fuck with me” being one of your favorites he’d sent as he munched on chips and guac over his break one day.

But this one sent butterflies rushing through you, and they only multiplied when you saw he saved your picture.

You check the time, Eddie due to pick you up at 6:30.

It was 6:27, and as you get up to spritz some perfume, you hear a knock at your door. Your heart leapt, how long had you been sitting there looking at his face??

You grab your purse and shrug on your jacket as you run to open the door.

In the hallway he stood, 6’2” in boots that matched yours. “Hey, sweet girl!” His smile brightened as he greeted you, his heart quickening in delight when you threw your arms around him. He didn’t hesitate to bend down and hug you back. “I missed you.” He found himself saying into your hair.

“I missed you too.” You smile over his shoulder as his large hand rubbed your back.

He pulled back from the hug to let you lock your door and immediately offered his arm, “Right this way, milady.”

You chuckle and hook your arm through his. “So can you tell me where we’re going now?” You ask as you come to the elevator and he pushes the button. You’d brought it up a couple times in the weeks you’d been texting, determined to get a clue no matter how big or small.

But alas, Eddie was proving to be a good secret keeper.

He tsked and shook his head, “Nice try, sweetheart. But each location is highly classified and I’m not at liberty to divulge that kind of information.” The doors opened and he gestured for you to step inside first.

“But you literally are.” You say as he pushes the button for the bottom floor. He looks at you with mischief in his eye, one that sends your gaze downward and your cheeks blushing.

“Hey,” he says softly. You look up and find him closer, his hand landing on your shoulder, “No shy stuff tonight, okay?” He says gently. Not a demand, but an encouragement. “I want you to be comfortable with me.”

You nod at him.

“Yeah?” He asks in confirmation, to which you nod again. He takes your hand as the doors open and leads you outside to his car.

You should’ve known he’d drive a shiny blacked out camaro, the windows tinted darker than you thought legal. Eddie looked proud as he watched you take in his pride and joy he had detailed at his second job special for tonight.

You got to the door before he could, the man mentally scolding himself as he watched you buckle up while he climbed in and shut the door. He marked how pretty you looked sitting in his car, like that seat had been waiting for you.

Your skirt stretched deliciously over your thighs and rode up in the back as you settled, your fingers sat intertwined in your lap and picking at a hangnail absentmindedly as he starts the car, his music kicking on and the air conditioning blowing his air freshener through the vents, smelling like him.

“You sure you’re comfortable?” He asked, spying your hand and slipping his fingers between yours. Your hand relaxes into his and you give him a squeeze and nod, “Yeah!” You say, “I’m sure. Thank you.” You nod again.

Eddie narrows his eyes playfully, as do you with a poorly repressed smile. “You sure…” he says with suspicion in his tone.

You nod again with a soft smile, “Yeah.”

“…Can I have a kiss to prove it?” He asked, smiling when he saw you practically melt, your eyes dipping to his lips before you nodded and leaned toward him. “Thanks—” He mumbles before cupping your face and tilting you up to meet his lips for an innocent lingering peck. He pulled back and smiled at you when you noticed yours stayed closed for a few moments longer than his.

“Thank you.” You finally manage as he gently releases your cheek as if he didn’t want to, and chuckles at you, shifting the car into reverse and exiting the parking lot.

“Wait, locations? Plural? There’s more than one?” You ask suddenly.

“Aght! That’s all you get!” He says with warning in his tone before he takes your hand again. You giggle at his touch and he looks at you and then back at the road, “M’sorry! I just like you or something!” He says as he releases your hand and you’re quick to snatch his right back up.

“No! I think it’s cute.” You say, lacing your fingers with his and covering it with your other hand. You don’t miss how he smiles at the road, lifting your hand to his lips.

“I like affection, if you couldn’t tell.” He shrugged, his lips brushing over your skin as he spoke, and then pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

You smile at the feeling, “I thought it might be a possibility.”

“If you don’t like any of it, you’d tell me, right?” He asked.

You nod, “Yeah, I would.”

“You would?” He asks in clarification.

You nod again.

“So you like it?” He asked with a smile.

Your jaw opens and you can’t help but smile and nod again, “Yes!” You cover your eyes with your hands in embarrassment, “You just like to mess with me, don’t you?” You cross your arms and ignore your burning cheeks as you smiled at his own grin, really just taking him in after three weeks without seeing him in person.

“I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t so fun!” He remarked and patted your knee fondly.

You shake your head but say nothing back, knowing you liked it when he picked on you.

“And here we are, stop number one.” He says as he pulls into a restaurant. The building was white stucco and had two stories. There was outdoor seating with large black umbrellas for shade, and a sign sat atop the building with red neon lining the swirled letters that read, ‘LaDonna’s’

“C’mon.” He smiled, opening his door. You unbuckle and by the time you’re reaching for the handle he’s popped the door open and reached out for you. You smile as he pulls you to your feet and leads you to the door, your hand in his the whole way.

When you’re seated, a waiter bounds over with a smile set on you, “Hey guys, can I get any drinks started for you tonight?” He looked between you.

“I’ll have a coke.” Eddie said when you nodded at him to go first.

“Uh, me too.” You agree before the server hurries away.

“So… you think he’s cute?” Eddie winks at you as he shrugs off his jacket and then slides a menu to you.

“You jealous?” You chuckle and go to flip the menu over to view the entrees when he lays his hand on it to keep it flat.

“Absolutely.” He said easily, leaning forward, “Don’t tell me you have a thing for waiters.” He rolled his eyes with a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You blush and shake your head no.

“Good, cause we’re gonna see a few tonight, and I’m not prepared to take a loss like that just yet.” You shoot him a questioning look just as he taps the appetizers, “This is the section you need to pay attention to—I want you to pick one for us.”

You glance down to the section of options and back up at him, his gaze set on you with gentle intensity that has you smiling and nodding. “Okay.”

You try to relax as you scan the menu with his eyes on you, fighting the smile on your face and feeling like that pathetic thirteen year old you turned into when you first met, the words not having any meaning as you read each dish and the description.

Last time, it was the possibility of Eddie watching you read the menu and having to decide in a timely manner, that made your mind blank, and then it was his proximity as your waiter that drove you stupid, not to mention the circumstances surrounding your anxiety now.

Eddie’s knee bounced eagerly, his chain lightly jingling every so often. He twisted his ring and smiled when he caught your eyes flickering up from the table to his hands and back down again. His grin spreads and you notice, sinking in your seat and nonchalantly lifting the menu to form a wall between you and his face, the measure actually helping your ability to focus a bit.

“Aww, c’mon now, sweetheart,” he tapped at your menu shield and peeked over, “—you told me no shy stuff.” He chided and snickered as you lower your menu with a playful scowl.

“It’s not my fault I lose my ability to read when I’m nervous.” You weakly chuckle and shove your hands under your thighs, dipping your vision back to the menu, spotting the words ‘chips and’ and then ‘fried’ when he tapped the table next to the menu again.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking— do you wanna g—“

“No!” You cut him off, finding his eyes soft and full of concern for you. “No, I’m okay.” You nod assuringly.

“Well, you… want some help?” He shrugs.

You cock your head but before you can ask he explains, “I could read them off to you and you tell me what sounds best! Half of my job is helping people pick, anyway.” He said as he picked up your menu and acted like he was straightening out a newspaper.

“R-Really?” You ask.

He nods as if anyone would think to do that for you—you hadn’t even thought of it.

“So we got chips, queso, guac, wings?” He looked at you like he’d cracked the code, but you scrunched your nose and shook your head. “—that’s okay— cheese fries, fried mozzarella—“

“—Cheese fries?” You ask.

“Yeah? You like bacon on them?” He asked brightly.

You nod, “And jalapeños, too.”

“Oof, so you like it spicy.” He said observantly, another blush painting your cheeks before he nodded at the approaching waiter and gathered the menus.

“Have we decided?” The guy asked after he set down your drinks, looking at you again.

Eddie answered, “Yeah! We’ll take a large order of cheese fries with bacon and jalapeños.” He handed the menus back and smiled at you simply while the waiter went back to the kitchen.

“So, how did that assignment turn out? That summer camp booklet thing.” He asks with a sparkle of interest in his eyes.

“The brochure?” You giggle, your cheeks heating as your heart swells at the thought of him asking about it.

You’d mentioned it one night when he FaceTimed you. He was outside on his balcony, his torso bare and covered with ink you hoped to inspect sometime soon. You noted where his shoulders dimpled and the way the city lights reflected in his eyes and hoped one day you could join him on that very same balcony, having the same kinds of talks about everything and nothing.

He nodded as he sipped and replaced his drink back on the coaster, “Yeah! Did you end up liking it? Was it what you wanted it to be?” He asked.

You smile and nod and take out your phone to show him the video you took of the finished product, an actual, cohesive, design that captured the vibes you’d felt when you’d initially received the assignment. The book was beautiful, in your opinion, and Eddie seemed to think so too as you told him about when you saw it printed and stapled you felt all giddy and lame.

“That’s not lame though, you’re proud of your work! I know I am! I remember you showed me when it was just the template and the color picker— it looks so good! Y’know I used to be fine with never going to summer camp, but now I’m jealous!”

You let out a hearty laugh and set your phone to the side along with his, “Eddie it’s not a real summer camp, I just made it up.”

“Oh.” He chuckles with a blush, “Well, you convinced me! The vintage kinda look you gave it feels very… authentic.” He nodded as he decided his final word, his assessment making your heart soar.

“Thank you, I got an A, so I guess my teacher agrees.” You shrug bashfully. “But what about you? How’s that song coming?” You ask before unwrapping a straw and plunging it in your drink.

Eddie smiles the same way you had when he asked about your project, “It’s getting there!” He said humbly, in a way that made you know he made great progress on it despite his words, “—inspiration struck fairly recently, you could say.”

You nod, “That’s great! What’s it about, again?” You ask, wondering if he’ll give you the run around again like when he’d first mentioned it.

“Well, i-it’s about a lot of stuff,” he nods, fiddling with his own straw but not yet tearing the paper off. “Like, where I come from and where I’m at and where I see myself going—what I’m looking forward to the most… etcetera etcetera.” He nodded thoughtfully.

You smile with him, “That sounds beautiful. I’d love to hear it when it’s finished.”

“Oh, I plan on you being the first to hear it.” He said with wide eyes that filled you with anticipation.

“Well I must be something special.” You tease softly.

He nods, “You must be.” He bites the inside of his lip to contain his smile, feeling like an idiot when he felt his heart speed up merely at the way you looked at him. Your eyes round and set on him like he was a dream. Your shoulders wanted to curl in on yourself, your shyness was lingering but you were peeking out from behind the curtain. And he loved what he saw.

You were smart, and despite your struggles with anxiety, you had a lot to say. He was determined to hear all of it, especially if it came out of your smiling mouth. He loved that you were figuring out how to play with him, but didn’t make it feel like a game. Eddie was used to flirty banter but nothing that made him feel like the way it felt with you.

Your shy nature really topped it off for him, your tentativeness making it that much more fun to mess with you.

He’d never forget the way you sounded on the phone when he called for the first time. Your trembling sighs were full of nerves, the phone picking up soft chuckles, and a shy lilt to your voice that clenched his heart to the point it ached.

You’d come quite a ways since then, though part of him hoped you’d always be a little shy.

The waiter brought over your heaping basket, mozzarella, sharp cheddar, Colby Jack, and American cheese all melted on the top of the extra crispy fries.

Eddie’s eyes were bright as he beheld the food, and then looked up to find you unfurling your napkin and silverware, your bottom lip in your teeth as you spear your fork into a measly section to pull onto your tiny plate.

“Oh, I should’ve known you’d be one of those.” He teased as he pulled a fry from the top, the cheese stretching an impressive distance before snapping.

“What??” You ask, welcoming his banter with pink cheeks you suspected wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.

“Don’t tell me you eat fries with a fork.” He deadpanned and took a bite.

“I don’t, but when I’m sharing an appetizer with someone I try to be polite.” You jab your fork into another helping to plop onto your plate. “Thought that’s something you liked about me.” You quip before cutting into the cheese fries and sticking a bite in your mouth, your lips sliding off the fork as you hold eye contact with him.

You barely notice how his gaze dips to your mouth, how he swallows before he smiles and speaks again, “I do. There’s a lot of things I like about you.”

You shake your head as you chew and swallow, “That was an easy one.”

“What??” He asked as he grabs another clump of fries, carefully stacking a jalapeño on top and biting into it.

“You and your lines.” You roll your eyes.

He smiles though he puts a hand to his chest in offense, “You think I have lines??” He asked.

“How can you not? You always know what to say, how to… I dunno… stun me?” You shrug at your loss of words.

Eddie almost cackles and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “Stun you??”

“You know what I mean!” You take a bite, taking care to get the perfect amount of bacon and jalapeño on top before taking a large bite that made Eddie a little proud. You chew and appraise him as he does you, strong jaw working and his eyes waiting for your next sentence. “I just feel like you’re too smooth for it to be real, y’know—I keep thinking this is going to turn out to be one big joke.” You chuckle weakly and shrug.

Eddie deflated a little and reached his hand across the table, resting on top of yours that held your fork. “Sweetheart,” he sighed and you felt a pang of guilt swim around in your chest when you saw the hurt in his eyes, “I… I know what that’s like. Believe me, it’s—“ he sighed again, “—I can’t ever stop thinking about you.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m not used to a girl doing that to me, taking over my every thought.” He chuckled in disbelief, “I like you. A lot.” He assures with a nod and you mirror it, feeling bad he had to do this already.

“I’m sorry.” You drop your fork and wrap your fingers around his. He shakes his head, as if it were no bother. “I…” you take a deep inhale and slowly let it out as you talk, “—kinda have trust issues, if you couldn’t already tell.” You avoid eye contact until you hear his chuckle.

“I get it, I really do.” He nods before meeting her eye again, “But my interest in you has nothing to do with a joke and everything to do with the fact you’re interesting. And sweet. And cute. And smart— I honestly have no idea what you’re doing out with me.” He said it as if he believed it and took a bite.

You shake your head, “You’re so full of it.” You chuckle and prepare to take another bite, though the smile on your face told Eddie you were flattered and ready for more back and forth.

“It’s true! You know how many people see me coming and cross the street to avoid me?” He seemed pleased with himself and with the face you made, genuinely confused. “—Cause I look mean and scary.”

Your eyes widen, “Oh! Well, I don’t think you’re scary cause you’re mean.”

“You think I’m scary?”

“I think you’re scary cause you’re so… pretty—I mean handsome!”

Eddie lets out a laugh so hearty it turned a couple heads, but all you did was blush and smile at the reaction you were able to pull from him.

“You’re too cute—wow.” He grabs a clump of fries and takes a bite through his lingering smile. “So you wouldn’t cross the street if you saw me coming? Shy little thing like you?”

You shook your head, “Would you cross if you saw me coming?”

“If I’m across the street on 8th and caught a glimpse of you walking down 7th, I’m jay-running to come introduce myself.” He said without missing a beat, “I’d change direction just to walk with you.”

“You really can’t help it,” You laugh melodically, full and with your belly, your eyes practically closed in your amusement.

“When it comes to you? Not a bit.” He smirked as you collected yourself with a deep breath and continued eating.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“No way. I don’t believe you!” You chuckle madly as he nods.

“Oh, but, I did, I read every bit of it— and from the sound of it, you did too.” He looked at you with his bashful grin as you nodded quickly.

“Look at me and tell me it isn’t obvious that I’m a TwiHard.” You say pointing to your face.

The conversation had turned to reading, Eddie asking about your reading goal for the year you’d set yourself and balking when you said you were on book twelve in the month of May, and then reminiscing on his days as a bookworm when people were waiting in line for the newest additions to the Twilight Saga.

“I guess there’s only one thing I need to ask.” He said as he leaned forward. “Team Edward or Jacob? You should know that there is a correct answer, and if you respond Team Jacob I’ll l have to La Push you into traffic.”

“Of course I’m Team Edward! Jacob can keep his idealized version of Bella and shove it—“

“—La Push.” Eddie teased.

“My mistake.” You chuckle and take another bite. “So did you read them or watch them first?”

“Oh, I read them.” He urged and shook his head at his past self, “I wanted to be a Cullen so bad.” He scoffed and smiled when you nodded in agreement.

“Who’s your favorite?” You ask.

“Hmm… back in the day I’d say Edward. But now I think my real favorite is Carlisle.”

You look impressed with his answer and nod for him to elaborate, “I didn’t have the finest of upbringings.” He cleared his throat, preparing to be vulnerable. To let himself be known. “My brother and I didn’t meet til we were teens—his mom and my mom didn’t get along because of the old man, but we both landed at our Uncle’s house around the same time and—“ he shook his head feeling way off topic, “I like the found family thing. You know? The people that don’t have to love you but still do anyways.” He chuckled.

When he looked up at you, he found your eyes soft and your hand reaching out for his again. The feeling of your hand in his was becoming familiar and he liked that he knew how you’d fit together.

“And you found yours?” You ask.

He nodded warmly, “Yeah. I did. I count Dak as found family since I haven’t always had him, y’know, sometimes it still doesn’t feel real that we’re brothers and not just friends. But brothers aren’t exactly supposed to show up on your doorstep one day and never leave, right?” He chuckles at himself and you give him a weak smile as you wonder what else you’ll learn about him.

“Do you have any siblings?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No. It was just me and mom, mostly.” You say almost tensely. “Things were… a lot different between us back then. It was hard living with her without my dad.“ you nod and your eyes flicker up to his, finding his gaze on yours, his lingering smile gone for the first time. “Reading helped. Still does.” You smile.

Eddie’s smile came back at the sight of yours and he nodded, “Agreed. Though I must say, I can’t find anything I wanna devour the way I consumed the hunger games trilogy—“

“Oh my god, yes!” You hastily agree and lean forward.

“I wasn’t that big of a fan of Gale.” Eddie sighed in thought as he sat back.

“What do you mean?! He kept her family alive while she was gone at both games, despite the mixed signals she was always sending him.” You explained and he shrugged.

“Mockingjay really showed their differences, though. They were each others first love, y’know? Best friends, most importantly. But he wanted her to be something she wasn’t. He became more desensitized to the violence and Katniss needed… I dunno… a softness, and m’boy Peeta knew exactly what she needed. Til he was hijacked.” He rolled his eyes and took a sip from his now empty drink.

You bite the inside of your lip as you come to realize you agree with him. “Okay. You got me. Katniss is softer than she lets on.”

“Kinda like how you’re braver than you let on.” He winks at you and you blush down at the empty basket. A waitress drops the check by the table, which Eddie quickly swipes up and places his money inside.

“C’mon, cutie,” he stands and hold out his hand, which you take without hesitance. “Time for the main course.”

You happily take his hand and follow him out the door, wondering if he would always wanna hold your hands so firmly in his. His grip reminded you of the way your mom held your hand in the stores as a child, like he’s afraid to lose you in the crowd.

You’re appraising him in the car as he fiddles with the radio, connecting his phone and playing a song you sent him a week ago. “Now you’re just trying to get brownie points.” You roll your eyes even though you blush.

“What? It’s a good song! Much like you, it’s been stuck in my head since I first heard it.”

“Have you always been like this?” You ask.

Eddie looks taken aback by your wording, “Like what?” He looks over at you incredulously, thought you can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.

“Charismatic and laid back and outgoing and, and, and!” You shrug and he scoffs. “I just wanna know if it’s a god given gift or if there’s hope for me, cause damn. You could charm the socks off anyone.” You shake your head and look out the windshield.

He chuckles and turns the wheel, getting settled in the new direction and lane of traffic before answering, “Just the socks?” He smirks over at you and you roll your eyes for the hundredth time and blush for the thousandth.

“Honestly, Eddie, I’ll la push myself out of this car if you don’t stop doing that.” You pry your eyes away from him and cross your arms though the playful smile lingered at the corners of your mouth. You loved it though it was growing immensely aggravating.

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart, look at me.” He pleaded with a sorry tone, one you’d give a child in a sour mood. You didn’t comply, choosing to watch the traffic lights instead.

Your silence is ringing louder than a gong in Eddie’s ears as he drives, and before he knows it, he’s pulling over onto the shoulder and turning on his hazards, “What’s going on?” You ask, looking over at the gages on the dash for a check engine light or something. When you find his eyes on you, you flinch back in confusion.

“Now that I have your attention.” He smiled. You can’t help your grin as you swat at his shoulder and he turns to you. “I was the town pariah until I left at 21.” He sighed, his eyes looking more and more puppylike the longer he spoke, his eyes darting away like yours had the day you met. “You know how it is—small town America, everyone hated me for the music and stuff I liked and how I dressed, it’s dumb. Me being me caused a lot of trouble. And I had to learn to overcome their bullshit or let it get the best of me, which it didn’t.” He nodded assuringly. “I made great friends there. Most of them are here with me in the city, now. College and all. But I really found myself when I left Hawkins. When I figured out the world really was so much bigger. And that the people at home are the real weirdos, not me.” He scoffed and you nodded in agreement.

“Point is.” He sighed. “It’s a coping mechanism—my charm.” He shrugged, looking at you from behind the mask, his smile weak and eyes looking almost sad. “I’m sorry, if I come on too strong—“

“No! No.” You shake your head. “You’re great, Eddie.” You assure and your heart swells with his smile, “I’m so glad you shared that with me.” You accidentally rasp as you try to be quiet, “I know what it’s like to not belong… I wish I could’ve seen you back then.” You chuckle.

“Oh you would’ve hated me.” He rolled his eyes. “Couldn’t keep my mouth shut.” He tsked.

“Oh I can’t imagine that!” You tease and lean closer as you grab his hand and he smiles down at it.

“I’ve never been so nervous about someone.” He admitted as he flickered his gaze up to your eye just for a moment before looking back down at your intertwined hands. “No one’s ever treated me like such a big deal before. Or wanted to know me the ways you do.” He smiles up at you again before kissing your hand. “With you it’s like I wanna…. keep being the cool guy, y’know?”

“Eddie, you can’t actually be saying you’re nervous… because of me.” You shake your head, “It’s me, remember? Chicken fingers?” You shake your joined hands to jostle him like a friend getting a pep talk. “Y’know I don’t just swallow my tongue for anybody, you must really be something special! Plus have you looked at yourself lately? It’s intimidating how hot you are!”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I take my girl out to eat now? Or are you gonna ignore me again when I flirt with you?” He asks.

The term strikes somewhere eager in your chest, your eyes flying to his as he turns his blinker on to merge onto the road, “Mhm.” Is all you’re able to manage as he grins in satisfaction and takes his opportunity to join the flow of traffic, all without dropping your hand.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The walk through the parking lot was quiet but the silence was warm. Eddie had brought you to a place called ‘Black Barn Reserve’ and from the outside, it looked very rustic and cozy. The dining area was dim, candles illuminating the tables, and a large bonfire at the front of the open room, the large glass doors swung open to the outside for more areas to eat and lounge.

“You ever been here before?” He asked, his eyes taking in the scene and looking for a familiar face.

“Oh, gosh, no— I’ve heard of it though. It’s beautiful! I wanna curl up and read over there.” You point to an over stuffed armchair in the corner, adjacent to the bonfire.

Eddie smiles at the mental picture of you curled up with a book and a blanket next to a roaring fire, until he spots the familiar head of hair he’d been searching for. “Steve!” He stuck his hand up in greeting as Steve pushed through the crowd, shoving his order book into his apron as he approached.

“Its so good to see you!” The guy pulled Eddie in for a quick hug, and released him before looking over at you, “And you! Eddie has told us so much about you—“

“S’enough of that Steve,” He turns to you with a smile and introduces you by name.

“Steve Harrington— Eddie’s best friend.” The guy smiled and shook your hand before looking to Eddie, “It’s all set up for you.” He released your hand and patted Eddie on the back before darting off in the direction of a set of booths.

Eddie smiled at you bashfully and took your hand, leading you through the room to a secluded corner by a bay of windows. The booth was small and round, three candles at the center of the table smelling like warm and spicy herbs.

“I used to work here, with Steve.” He chuckled as you sat and began scooting to the other side, finding him following close by and capturing your hand under his. “That’s far enough, sweet thing, come closer.” He teased. You oblige him and scoot so close your leg almost pressed against his.

“Comfy?” He asked, placing his hand on your knee. You smile and nod, opening the menu with few options and tiny writing.

“I thought you had to have a reservation to get into this place.” You smile and look up at the ornate ceiling, the chandeliers barely glowing with light.

“Uh, usually you have to! I just got lucky that Harrington still works here and the shift manager still likes me.” He shrugged, looking down at the menu before looking over at you with a smile. “I’ve always liked this spot the most. Thought it was the best seat in the house.”

“Why is that?”

“Cause you get to enjoy every part of the place sitting right here. Bonfire,” he gestures to the fire a few feet away just outside, “People watching,” he motioned to the loaded dining room before you. “Plus the food is fantastic.”

“I’ve heard!” You chirp, trying to make out the font and find the word ‘entree’. Eddie’s finger comes into view when he points it out.

“The menu changes every night, so you can choose from the steak, pasta, or soup.” He drapes his arm on the booth behind you, looking off your menu instead of picking up his own.

You sigh in relief, nodding and automatically deciding you wanted the pasta. “You mean they don’t have chicken fingers?” You ask casually.

Eddie chuckles through his nose and leans closer. “If the pasta sucks, I’ll personally get you your chicken tenders.” He squeezes your knee before stroking the round of it with his thumb and draping his other arm around you.

“How’d you know I wanted pasta?” You ask.

Eddie freezes before his smile blooms, “Oh, uh, well, I remember your mom saying you liked that pasta—the first time you came to the restaurant.” You cover his hand with yours, brushing against his rings with careful fingers.

“I think it’s really sweet you thought of that.” You giggle, lighting up his world, “And for the record, I wanted that pasta. I just said chicken fingers because it’s all I could remember.” You put your face in your hand.

“No!” Eddie tsked, “so you don’t like chicken fingers?? Is that why you didn’t eat them??”

“No, I do! Just couldn’t eat them when my stomach was in knots.” You laugh it off and find Eddie’s smile waning.

“Is it-is it always like that?” He asked gently, “Your….?”

“Anxiety? Yeah.” You chuckle as the waitress approaches, a black dress and pearls around her neck like the rest of the female presenting employees. Her French twist was elegantly loose, and her lips were the perfect shade of mauve.

“Good evening, my name is— Eddie?” She questioned.

Eddie’s eyes fell away from yours and met hers with what seemed to be hesitance. “Monica! Hey! I didn’t know you were working here again.” He said tensely, making no move to stand like she seemed to think he would.

“I just started back about two weeks ago!” She informed him as cheerfully as she could before directing her attention to you, “I’m Monica, Eddie’s friend,”

“—old friend.” He clipped.

“Old friend.” She added, her eyes looking you over.

“This is my date, Y/n.” He put his arm around you, looking back to you, “Monica and I used to work together.”

“You could say that.” She scoffs, looking down at her leather bound book, “Can I get you some—“

“Two cokes, please.” You cut her off to get her out of the way, feeling quite shitty about it until she walked away and Eddie relaxed. You hadn’t noticed how rigid he’d grown when Monica arrived, the hundreds of questions swirling through your mind like an endless loop-de-loop.

You swallow before you meet his weary eye, flashing a closed mouth smile that was supposed to be encouraging, but for Eddie it hit him deep in the chest, like he’d already fucked up.

“Monica and I didn’t date.” He blurted.

You nod, the sentiment settling in. “I get it.”

“If I’d known she was working here again, I wouldn’t have brought you here, I’m so sorry.” He held your hand in both of his, “It wasn’t even a thing y’know, but she wasn’t… exactly… interested in me so I made a clean break and she…” he blew out a breath, “—was not happy.”

You nod again, the tension releasing in your chest. “Do you want to leave?” You ask, ready to give him an out and continue this date somewhere else.

“No, absolutely not.” He chuckled. “I’ve been wanting to bring someone special here for a while. Not gonna let anything ruin it.”

You smile and nod, happy to be wherever he is. Your eyes close in bliss when he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, as another waiter brings your drinks and asks to take your order.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That was literally the best pasta I’ve ever had in my life.” You groan in satisfaction as you leave the restaurant under Eddie’s arm, leftovers in the other hand.

“And now my question is, are you ready for dessert?” He asked with a glimmer in his eye, “too full?”

You shake your head, “Uh-uh, desserts the best part!” You insist, ducking into the car.

“Good. Cause the next stop is my favorite place to eat, like ever.” He smiled over at you and started the car, handing you his phone and the aux cord. “Play me something good, DJ.”

You racked your brain, searching for something he’d like, something that would impress him. You decide to go to your messages and play the song he sent you the most recently. “What?” He croons in disappointment as he joins the night traffic.

“What?” You chuckle.

“I said play me something good, not play me my music I listen to every day! Put on something you like.” He urged. “Let me in that pretty little cranium of yours.”

You bite your lip and nod, “You like the Warning?” You ask tentatively as you search them up.

Eddie shook his head, “I haven’t heard of them.”

“Well we’re gonna fix that.” You smile as the beginning of ERROR fills the speakers.

Eddies face lights up, when he hears the thudding bass lead the drums in. “Oh, shit! Okay!” He bobs his head to the beat, “I like it!” He says with a look on his face that shows you he’s impressed. “You’re gonna have to play DJ more often!”

You blush at the idea of being with him often.

You hoped you would be at least. And something in your heart to you, you would be.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Eddie…”

“Mhm…”

“Why are we parked in front of Chili’s?”

“Because! I have a to-go order.” He smiled, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Sit tight, I’ll be back.”

You nod as he steps out of the car and bounds up the sidewalk to the door where he’d shown you his ‘hiding place’ the day you’d come back for him. Your heart beat madly in your chest, the first moment you’d had alone since the start of the date and you finally realize how out of breath you are.

Over nothing.

You take a few steadying breaths and press your hands to your hot face, the bitter sting of your cold skin bringing you back down to earth a little bit. He’d been practically perfect— the whole date was. You didn’t want it to end, to live in this warm, giddy feeling forever.

You check your makeup and are pleasantly surprised when you see it hasn’t budged or caked or creased, with the exception of your lipstick worn off from eating and drinking. As you spot the familiar bouncing strides turning the corner you slap the mirror shut and busy yourself queuing music on your phone.

The lights come on when he pops open the door and he smiles as he hands you a to-go bag containing a single box. “Miss me?” He asked with the playful smile you were growing fond of.

“Of course.” You chuckle and look at the bag, unsure if you should open it or not.

Eddie shuts the door and settles in his seat and turns to you with a smile, as if he were taking you in after a long trip.

“What?” You giggle.

He shakes his head, “Nothing. Just looking pretty kissable over there.” He smirks and put his hand on your knee, stroking in soft circles before glancing up at you again.

You smile and huff a gentle laugh before leaning forward and letting him kiss your lips, the energy bordering between chaste and something eager. You wanna deepen the kiss, tempted to put your hands on his face, through his hair, however you could keep him close— but he pulls away.

“Good girl.” He purrs and you stifle a gasp by clearing your throat and smiling. He nods at the bag. “Open it up for us.”

You unwrap it from the plastic bag and pop open the styrofoam shell to find a chocolate lava cake, a scoop of vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce drizzled across the top, and two silver spoons. You couldn’t help but notice the heart swirled in the chocolate on the bottom of the container and blushed madly as you look back up at him.

“You didn’t take a single bite—when you came with your mom. I even made sure you had a spoon in case you changed your mind and you didn’t! But… now that I know you a little better now… I assume you weren’t up to eating at the time. And everyone loves lava cake so…” he trails off as he purses his lips to the side.

You bite the inside of your smile and shake your head at him. “You’re—“ you try to find the words. Unbelievable? Amazing? Perfect? A dream come true?

He seems to realize your struggle and holds up a spoonful of cake and ice cream. “It’s still warm.” He whispers.

You take a bite and try to ignore the lump in your throat as you chew and swallow, or the tears prickling at your eyes at his tenderness. You loved how he made you feel and hated to think this could all be a trap. That he could give you this kind of love and take it away as soon as he grew bored.

And it made you feel so pathetic and weak and even a little naive all over again.

A tear slides down your cheek and he turns you by the chin to face him. “What’s wrong?” He says just above a whisper.

You meet his eye and wipe your face with a shaking head, “Literally.. nothing. I just—wow, I’m so sorry—“ you smile and sniffle and shake your head at yourself as you wipe your eyes, “—no one’s ever made such a big deal out of me. Not like this. Or—paid attention to me in the ways you do.” You shake your head. “I feel pathetic around so many people because my brain can’t handle life happening. I’m frazzled and scatterbrained and painfully shy, and I constantly feel like.. like a burden. Like it’s asking too much to be understood, Y’know?” You sniffle again as more tears fall.

Eddie nods and holds your hand and wills you to finish. His strong girl.

His brave girl.

“So, thank you.” You shrug. “Even if it doesn’t last I’ll always remember this.” You say candidly.

Eddie caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch, “Where have you been, sweetheart?” Is all he can ask. You scrunch your brows together in confusion and he leans in to kiss you again. Your lips are cold against his, tasting temptingly sweet, but he keeps this kiss innocent before pulling back and wiping away your tear with his thumb.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me to fuck off.” He said with only a hint of playfulness in his soft tone. You scan his face to find a sign that he was just speaking empty words but his eyes— his deep amber irises soft with the warmth of the sentiment he spoke between you.

You sigh and nod profusely, unable to string the words fighting at the forefront of your mind to be placed together properly, to form a sentence that articulated exactly how full and wonderful he made you feel. Instead, you lean for ward and kiss him, a hand resting on his stubbled cheek.

Eddie chuckles against your lips and you feel his smile as he moves. You break the kiss and you linger so closely your noses brush. He takes it upon himself to nuzzle his nose against yours and you let out a giggle.

You pick up the other spoon and scoop a bite to hold up for him. He chuckles and takes the bite, his eyes on yours in the dim car light.

The intro to Fade Into You by Mazzy Star comes on, and your eyes dart to his to lock in an eager gaze, “I love this song!” You both say at the same time.

You can help but share a laugh before Eddie serves you another bite, “We should’ve been doing this all night, how romantic.” He teased, though he meant it.

You blush and roll your eyes before you hold up your spoonful to his lips, and as he takes a bite, you pull it away and eat it yourself with a smile.

“Ohhh! Is that how it’s gonna be, now? We were having a moment!” He chided with an amused smile. You swallow and serve him an extra big helping to make up for it, which he’s happy to accept.

“You are forgiven.” He says through a mouthful and smiles as he scoops a bite of ice cream into the spoon and holds it up, offering it just in front of his mouth.

You lean in with closed eyes and a gaping mouth, only to feel his lips slot against yours sensually. Warm and firm and languid, the heat both physical and energetic, the passion rippling between you.

You thought back to that movie Pretty in Pink, when Iona talked about Duckie’s kiss setting her thighs on fire— that’s exactly what this felt like. The fire consumed you, licking up your legs and hips, his daring little nip at your lip rendering you utterly thoughtless until he lifted the haze like a blanket, pulling back from the kiss just as you really needed it most.

“Now, we’re even.” He winks.

“Oh, no, we are not.” You say through a scoff.

Eddie’s eyes light up at the challenge, “You took a bite, so did I.” He shrugged.

You cross your legs and shift your hips slightly, your jaw clenched and your eyes narrowed at him and his antics. Luckily, Eddie knew exactly what all of those things meant. He placed his hand on your knee and stroked in an agonizingly slow circle. “Isn’t that fair?” He asks.

Your brain begins churning into mush as he looks at you in the way he did the first time you saw him, like you’re the most interesting person on the planet—the sexiest most interesting person on the planet. And you only just now realized.

You smile in a way he hadn’t seen before as you looked him over, “Absolutely not, you practically, freakin’ mouth fucked me!” You accuse with a smile of disbelief.

Eddie’s jaw drops as he laughs, “What?!”

“You heard me!” You giggle, “You’re just gonna juice my brain and pretend it was no big deal like I’m not gonna have to take two days to recover.” You push his shoulder playfully as he keeps laughing.

“Oh my god, you’re- you’re—“ he shakes his head at her, and instead of finding a word, he brings her in for one more brain juicing kiss.

It was hot and slow, it had you whimpering without any care or notice and arching your back into him despite the console between you, his tongue moving against yours and his teeth nipping at your lip every once in a while to make you moan for him, hoping he’d soon find out how to play other parts of your body to create louder sounds.

When the kiss finally broke, Eddie pushed your hair behind your ear and smiled at you. “I wanna ask you—properly— if you’d… be my girlfriend. A-And we can get together like this whenever we can, Y’know? I kinda like how we have the same crazy schedules. And you’re good at phone tag! You make it fun.” He smiles and swipes his thumb over your cheekbone. “You make my days exciting again, you know that? He admitted. “I’ve never liked phone calls—ever! But every time you call, I wanna drop my whole life to speak to you.”

You nod, but in a way that tells him you share the feeling because of him.

“Y’know other girls, they like the whole ‘bad boy thing’ I have going on and think I’m good for a fun night and a motorcycle ride, but none of them wanna deal with my hours, or my life. They’re not actually interested in me, you know? And here you are.” He nudges your nose with his. “Wanting to know my deep dark secrets and my favorite color.”

“Favorite colors aren’t deep dark secrets! And it’s not a secret if you wear it exclusively.” You give him a pointed look and he chuckles.

“Like my own pocket sized comedian, I swear.” He holds your face in both of his hands like a child having cute aggression and shakes his head with an affectionate smile.

“What do you say, chicken fingers? Feel like bein my girlfriend?” He asks.

You smirk playfully and shrug, “I may have to take a couple days to think about it, y’know? Had a great time though.” You try to stay serious, but the second he looks fearful and the gooey tenderness leaves his eyes, you’re shaking your head, “I’m just kidding! Just kidding, I’d love to be your girlfriend—are you kidding me?” You scoff.

Eddie barely has time to smile before you’re kissing him again, his laughter a mere mumble against you before it’s snuffed out by your kiss, his lips melting against yours.

As he’s running his fingers over your hair and relishing the feeling of your soft lips against his, he can’t help but wonder what date you’ll go on next, before this one’s even over.

You pull away, “Do you, uh—“ you shake your head at yourself.

Eddie nods at you, hoping he knows what you’re gonna ask him. “Go on, brave girl.” He whispers, keeping you close.

You blush and look down, “Uh, do you wanna—maybe, take me—“

“What, you want me to take you home, now?” He asked, quieter than before.

You freeze and bite your lip bashfully, “Or… home with you?” You meet his eye before darting away and chuckling at yourself, “I’m sorry, too much? It was too much—“ you don’t get a chance to ramble on before he turns your face back to his.

He’s got a cocky, pleased smile on his lips when he says, “I will happily take you to mine. Or yours if that’s what you want.” He looks you up and down for any signs of hesitation.

You nod, “Yeah, yeah, wherever you want. Just not… ready for this night to end.” You chuckle nervously.

Eddie beams at that and scoops up another spoonful, “One more bite and I’m taking my girl home. We can finish this later,” He smiles as you take a bite, “Late night snack, maybe?” He whispered in your ear as you chewed, and smiled when your eyes went wide and your skin burned pink.

“Where-where are we gonna—?” You ask, closing the container and putting it back in the bag.

“I’m taking my girl back to my apartment,” he said as he shifted the car into reverse, “—spending the rest of the night with a movie on the tv and my lips on yours.” He smiles over at you. “How’s that sound?” He takes your hand in his and kisses it as he slows to a stop at a red light.

“…Will you take me out on the balcony?” You ask shyly. His eyes widen and he balks, your brain needing a second to catch up, “Wait, no that’s not—“

“Too late, baby, it’s already out there—and the answer is yes, absolutely—anything you wanna do on my balcony, consider it done.” He says as he eases forward with the flow of traffic and you bury your face in your hands and giggle madly.

You peek open your eyes to see Eddie still smiling at the road ahead, turning into a parking garage. He held his lip between his teeth, carefully maneuvering into his reserved spot and looking over at you eagerly as he threw it in park and turned it off. “You ready? Sure you don’t want me to take you home?”

You nod, “Mhm, I’m sure.”

He nods back at you and opens his door, “Sit tight.” He says before shutting it and walking around to open your door for you.

“Oh, special treatment?” You ask as he helps you out.

“Oh, yeah, being my girl has its perks.” He pulls you up and wraps an arm around your waist before leading you to the elevator. He slides his hand across your back and grips your elbow before grazing down your arm to lace his fingers in yours.

You catch the doors going up with one of Eddie’s neighbors, an older woman named Nadine that wore an ornate silk scarf on her head, giving a warm toothy grin as she greeted you both. Eddie eagerly introduced you as his girlfriend, the woman shaking your hand with a warm pat before joking about Eddie’s appetite.

After she’d disappeared behind a red chipped door, Eddie fumbled with his keys as he explained, “Miss Nadine makes amazing dumplings and noodles, she’s always giving me leftovers since her husband passed away.” You watch her door as he unlocks his own, “He was great too.” He adds as the door opens and thuds the wall lightly.

“Home sweet home.” He says as he closes it behind you and you scan the area. “—sorry if stuffs a little…” he says as he snatches up some food wrappers and dirty cups. You giggle and spot the place on the counter where all the mail was dropped and torn open, Amazon boxes and shoes piled by the door.

Movie and band posters hung on the walls, along with some personal pictures that dotted the spaces here and there. “It’s okay, I like it. Clean houses can feel… sterile. Y’know? You live here, it’s supposed to look like it.” You chuckle as he successfully clears off the island and smiles at you.

“Well don’t you know how to make a guy feel at home.”

“In your own home?”

“Yeah!” He said as if it were simple. “Y’know… you aren’t the first girl I’ve brought back here…” he takes your jacket off your shoulders, you swallow thickly, wondering just how much he was used to in the bedroom, if you could deliver the kind of intensity he’s used to, “—but I was always really nervous about… I dunno, their judgement? Y’know they’d make comments sometimes and I wanted it be nice the first time you came and I dunno, just hearing that from you…” he shrugs with an easy smile, “C’mon. My rooms over here.”

You follow him, your heart thumping it’s way deeper into your chest. He pushes open the black door and you’re hit with the smell of him. His cologne, his detergent, the stale cigarette smoke, and a hint of skunk wafting over from the open grinder on his desk. “Fuck!” He mutters before shutting it and shoving the tray it rested on into the drawer.

You giggle and look around his room, at his messy bed covered with shirts and pants and jackets, several pairs of shoes strung about the floor. “Don’t worry, I kinda figured it came with the bad boy territory.” You turn to him and watch him pick up the clothes and stuff them back into their places to clear the bed.

He smiles and takes off his jacket, laying both yours and his on his desk chair.

“Ah, so.. do you…?”

You nod slowly and his face lights up, “Well… in that case..” he turns back to his desk and roots around for a minute before producing a blunt with the end barely smoked. “Care to ‘joint’ me out on the balcony?” He asks with a wink.

You practically snort, “That was awful, but yes, I would love to.” You smile and follow him to the double doors overlooking the street and horizon. He has it between his lips and lit by the time he turns to face you and leans against the rail, becoming a part of the gorgeous city view.

You tuck a leg under you as you sit in his chair, and wait patiently as he takes a hit. He looks over at you and smiles before reaching out to hand it to you, watching as you take a small hit without coughing, “Look at you, sitting all pretty in my chair, smoking my weed.” He said admiringly.

“Like what you see?”

“A little too much.” He smiles as you hand it back. “Been wanting to bring you out here since you first asked to see the view over FaceTime.” He blushed before taking a drag. “No one ever.. cared to, uh, come out here with me before.” He shrugged.

“Really?” You ask as you look into the blackness illuminated by the lights of night, stacked buildings and neon lights outlining and dotting the distance as far as the eye could see. “It’s like… a giant Christmas light show.” You mumble as he hands it back and you finally look at him.

“Think you could get used to it?” He asked.

You smile at him and his hopeful eyes, his knee bouncing with his nerves. “No.” You shake your head. He freezes for a second before you speak again, “It’s too pretty to get used to. I swear I just keep finding things to look at.” You shake your head in disbelief and then look back over at his smile set on you.

“I know exactly how that feels.” He whispered before squatting down to your level and stroking your cheekbone as you take one more hit.

“Do you?” You ask, turning the joint around and sliding it between his lips. He smiles at the intimacy and takes a drag as he nods.

“Mhm,” he says and exhales through his nose, “I thought this was beautiful, but now I got you out here and it’s just…” he shakes his head and you lean into his palm as his fingers find your hair, “You make it breathtaking.” He whispers, his eyes heavy with warmth and admiration.

You scoff and blush before looking away at the scenery, but a ringed hand turns you to face him by your chin, and he kisses you deeply, a warm palm on your cheek. It’s firm and deep as you move together, lustfully slow.

He pulls back from the kiss to whisper, “I wanna see you out here more, yeah?” He asked, kissing you once more, “—get you your own chair and everything.” He offers as he rests his head against yours.

You smile and nod the best you could, “My very own? More perks?” You say just as quiet, the street noise below barely even noticeable in this moment together.

“Not to mention the super comfy place in my bed… yours if you want it.” He whispers.

You stare at him for a minute and grab his wrist to lift the joint to your lips as he held it, your eyes on his the whole time had him gulping. “Can I… try it out?” You ask daringly.

Eddie’s eyes go moony and glazed as he nods eagerly, “Good girl.” He says before he’s bending over and flopping you over his shoulder to rush inside and drop you on the bed. He takes no hesitation in crawling over you and showering you with kisses that have you giggling the most you ever had.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hours later, when the moon was full and high in the sky, and both of you were well sated in your desire for one another, you laid in Eddie’s arms, in his shirt, eating from the same spoon as you finished the lava cake and kissed the stray bits of chocolate and vanilla from the corners of each others mouths.

You’re nestled between his legs, against his chest, and he ducks down into your neck to inhale deeply like he’d been dreaming of since he first caught a whiff of you and your fancy perfume. You giggle when he presses a kiss there and when you turn your attention back to the Simpson’s, he checks his phone.

Despite the notifications littering his Lock Screen, he’s marking the date below the time, knowing deep in his heart this is how he’d wanna spend it every year forever.

Or until you tell him to fuck off…

Which is never happening.

-



-

-

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[lostsyren]

i have a request for a scene based on these seemingly cut out scenes in episode 4 for part 1

https://x.com/rafeslut/status/1848180750941552843

maybe how it would've turned out if it had not been cut out and how it led to that contemplation scene and eventually influenced his decisions in episode 5 in goat island, idk if that makes sense

𓆉 ❀ 🫧 the right thing

{a/n: thank you for the request, sorry it took me so long to get to it, but I hope you enjoy it and I hope it’s what you expected of the deleted scenes!}

{summary: what happened between rafe and sofia after the showdown in s4 episode 4 on the beach, and a little context to the deleted scene pictures we got from them!}

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

It was downright cruel the way they were all treating Kiara and her friends, Sofia thought, face etched in concern as Ruthie plowed straight through the group all waving their hands at her to stop– to no avail despite their persevering efforts. Ruthie was like that, in the months Sofia got to know her– relentless.

Sofia glanced over at Rafe, who had a small smirk on his face, as if he was trying to hide his glee, but failed, even letting out a little laugh. Her discomfort grew, squirming as she listened to the defensive outcry coming from the other side of the beach.

She inhaled deeply, wrapping her arms around herself. At least it was over now.

But then Sofia heard the low rumble of the engine revving yet again, her frown returning.

The jeep sped up, sending sand flying in its wake, as Ruthie and Topper once gain hurtled past the pogues, who all dove for cover, before Ruthie tipped out her drink over Kiara.

Sofia’s heart sunk for the girl, as she lay on the ground, crestfallen with her hair dripping wet. The way Sofia’s supposed kook friends treated all the pogues made her wonder if they’d do the same thing to her, if it wasn’t for Rafe. The thought made her nauseous, imagining being humiliated the way Kiara was right now and like she was a couple days ago, when she’d overheard Rafe, Topper and Ruthie ridicule her behind her back.

Sofia looked over to Rafe, she didn’t know why, (perhaps for backup, perhaps for comfort), but he remained indifferent, gazing at the scene across the sand with a cool stoicism, lazily sipping at his beer. She shook her head in disdain, finding his behaviour repulsive. She didn’t care about Ruthie, Topper and the others– she cared about Rafe, still, even after he slandered their relationship to his friends.

Sofia spotted Kiara stride over to them, her face twisted in anger.

“Here she comes guys, on a warpath– get ready.” Topper teased with a deriding tone. Sofia observed from a safe distance, mouth still pursed in reproach.

“Look what you did– is this ok?” She yelled, holding out her hands. Sofia peered over to see a baby turtle, crushed in her palms, granules of sand stuck to its lifeless body. Ruthie glanced away, her mouth twisting in an unreadable emotion.

“No look at it! There was a turtle hatch you idiots– you drove right over it!”

Sofia had to avert her gaze, a sickness settling in the pit of her stomach. She hated being on the wrong side of this– being one of the people Kiara was yelling at.

“I understand you’re upset Kiara-“ Topper began.

“I’m more than upset Topper.”

“Alright but it was only one and I mean look,” Ruthie pointed out, tone casually cruel, “there’s so many more of them. A hatch is what? A hundred turtles? Most of them don’t make it anyway.”

“I think it’s like one in a thousand.” Topper added

Kiara shook her head in disbelief. “So?”

“So I think you should go throw that to the seagulls– cycle of life right?” Ruthie plastered on a scornful smirk, her eyes squinted as she stared down Kiara. Sofia could feel the tension fizzle between them.

“Cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck?” Kiara jumped up suddenly, shoving Ruthie square in the chest.

Sofia bristled in shock, her arms falling away from around her waist as she stepped back from the commotion. Looking around for Rafe, she found him topping up his empty beer bottle, just disregarding the spat completely. She couldn’t help but scoff in annoyance at his as insouciance whilst Topper pulled back Ruthie and JJ reined in Kiara.

“Your move Kie, what are you gonna do?” Ruthie goaded.

Topper held out his hands placatingly, “I would just walk away ok? We’re not doing this.”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you people.” Kiara avowed, Sofia glancing down at her feet at her words, a sinking shame tricking its way down her insides, before Kiara spun around back to her friends.

“Yeah that’s right, go back to your side Kie!” Ruthie called out, right before Kiara shoved their speaker to the ground.

“You come near her or any of us ever again, and I’ll come back and kill every single one of you.” JJ warned, before joining Kiara as they walked away.

Sofia hated this. Hated all of it. Her frown was stark on her face as she ignored the chitters of laughs and fragments of conversation around her, from people she barely knew.

She huffed a deep breath, before stepping back to look for Rafe– someone familiar, someone comfortable.

“I mean did you see that?” Ruthie commented as she walked past Rafe, Sofia hovering a couple feet away from him. She was waiting for him to say something…anything. He could’ve put a stop to this– Topper would’ve listened to him. But no, all he did was watch in silence, drinking like he always did.

“I saw it. All good shit, Ruthie.” He chuckled. Sofia crossed her arms around herself yet again. All good? It wasn’t all good, and she wished that her boyfriend had done something. These were his friends, not hers.

Sofia waited for him to come her way, her hands resting on her hips, face a picture of dismay. He locked eyes with her, and she hoped he’d apologise, criticise what had just occurred. say anything, but all he did was look at her with embarrassment, as if he forgot she was there.

“Not cool Rafe.” She scorned, as he walked past her to take a seat in one of the beach chairs, inciting Sofia’s rage to burn hot and fast.

“They deserved it,” he muttered.

“I wanna leave.” She instructed, her lips twisting in ire when he had to audacity to glance back at her with shock.

“Now!” She spun around, not waiting for him to follow, ready to gather all her things and head home, her mind swirling with shame, rage and disgust.

“What do you mean you wanna leave? We just got here!” He called out from behind her, as she frantically stuffed the sun screen and lotion into her beach bag.

“You serious right now Rafe? You feel good about what just happened?”

Some of the people surrounding them cast glances their way, beginning to whisper and quietly snicker behind shrouding hands.

“Ooo Rafe’s in trouble,” one person chided.

“Why’s she so pressed for?” Another pestered.

“Because she’s a pogue herself– didn’t you know?”

Sofia didn’t care though, but she could tell Rafe did.

“Look just chill ok? I thought you wanted to sunbathe?”

“Yeah well I don’t anymore– I want to go home.” Sofia pulled her tube top over her bikini as Rafe warily eyed everyone around them.

“Baby, just stop a minute yeah?” He tried a more consoling tone, which only cause Sofia to get even more angry.

She stepped through her white skirt, slipping on her sandals, and hoisted her beach bag over one shoulder, before wrapping her arms across her chest.

“I’m going.” She said with a stern face, turning on her heel ready to leave the beach.

Rafe ran a hand through his cropped hair, cursing under his breath before following Sofia down the sandy trail where his car was parked.

“Why are you so mad for?” Rafe wandered after her, easily keeping up with Sofia’s irascible stride with his long legs.

“The fact you have to ask me that is making more angry.”

“Oh come on, it was Ruthie and Topper, what was I supposed to do?”

Sofia stopped in her tracks, swivelling around to face him. They were far away from everyone else at the beach, protected by the thicket of trees encircling them.

“You could’ve said something– anything, but instead you just stood there and watched.”

“Yeah well I didn’t see you speak up either.” He muttered with an eye roll.

She scoffed, piercing him with her unwavering stare, “because in case you’ve forgotten Rafe, I’m a pogue too. You heard they way they were speaking about them– how do you think they’d react if another pogue told them to shut up huh?”

Sofia’s words were thinly veiled from her own insecurities, her hurt and rage at his previous comments resurfacing like flotsam that thrashed in the waters of her heart.

“I’m not living with a pogue…I have standards…”

“You’re not…” he trailed off, for once thinking before her spoke. “it’s different.” He didn’t elaborate how it was different though.

“Whatever Rafe, I saw you laugh and smile as if it was just some big joke– it wasn’t funny, it was straight up bullying.”

Rafe let out a short laugh, “bullying?” He scoffed, “that’s nothing compared to what they all did, they deserve whatever bad shit comes their way Sofia.”

“Yeah well I want no part in it.”

She left him, heading to his car, getting in the passengers seat with a sigh. She hated fighting with him. They both could be so different sometimes, and when they didn’t see eye to eye, it was never a good thing. She was stubborn like her father and Rafe was so…rageful– never towards her though, but when he felt strongly about something, she could feel it radiating off his body in scalding waves.

A moment passed before he got into the drivers seat. She could see him pace the leaf-strewn path, his ring clad fingers running though his buzz cut and he breathed in and out. She rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

The car door shut behind him with a loud bang, Sofia unable to see his face since she’d twisted away from him.

“Are you going to be mad at me for the rest of the day now?” He asked, tone sharp, as he tried to make eye contact with her.

Sofia just shrugged non-committaly, gazing out of the window.

“I did nothing wrong Sofia.” He tried to reason.

“You didn’t do the right thing either.”

Rafe didn’t respond to that.

She felt his hand hover over her knee, “look Sof, I don’t want to fight with you ok? Especially over something as stupid as this, yeah?”

She turned round to face him, her mouth still folded in a frown, “I want to go.”

He retracted his hand from her leg with a deep sigh, “fine– stay mad.”

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

Rafe had tried everything to get her to speak to him normally again. When they reached the house she’d left straight away to have a shower, locking the door– she never usually locked the door.

And when she got out, she got dressed and went and made her own dinner as the sun began to set, the sky doused in the orange glow of the Outer Banks.

Rafe entered the kitchen, hoping to try and make amends yet again.

“Hey baby, what you making?” He murmured gently, sliding his hands around her waist from behind. His fingers brushed away the strands of her freshly shampooed hair, the decadent smell of strawberries filling his nose as he inched his head down to press soft kisses against her neck.

She quickly shrugged him off.

“I’m not in the mood Rafe.”

Stepping back, he tried to hide his dejected expression, leaving her to cook alone in the kitchen, disappearing in the study to let her have the house to herself for a bit. Maybe then she’d cool down.

It was getting late– they’d usually go to sleep around this time. So Rafe got up, shutting his laptop and left to go to their bedroom.

He heard Sofia brush her teeth in the en suite so he went and sat down on the mattress, waiting for her to come to bed.

After a while, she did, entering the room an impassive expression on her face. He tried to smile at her, but she didn’t look his way, instead walking up to the bed and grabbing a blanket, turning back around again.

“Wait, where are you going?” He asked getting up from off the bed, his brows stitched on confusion.

She remained calm, face as still as a lake. “I’m sleeping on the couch,” she said plainly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Sofia… you can’t still be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad…I just need some space.”

“I won’t get too close then.”

Sofia shook her head, “night Rafe,” she said softly, before heading out of the room, blanket trailing behind her, leaving him to curse exasperatedly under his breath– leave it to the Pogues to find a way to mess with his relationship too.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

After an hour or so fruitlessly grasping at sleep, Rafe paced the bedroom, biting at his thumb.

“You didn’t do the right thing either.”

Sofia’s words spun around his brain, making him think about all the shit he’d done. The memory of seeing Sarah today had lingered with him surprisingly, their silent gaze across the windswept beach reminding him of the terse look they shared a year and half ago on the tarmac, where he unknowingly sent his father to his death.

“Look it’s Sarah, do you think she’d want to talk?”

Sofia had asked him as she sat beside him earlier on the warm sand, with that sweet, gentle voice of hers. She always seemed to nudge him to do the right thing– the moral thing. And he always seemed to do the opposite. Rafe realised he couldn’t stand to disappoint her.

Quietly exiting the bedroom, he pattered down the stairs, heading to the living room. There she was, nestled into the sofa, the blanket fallen on to the floor. Rafe smiled to himself seeing her look so pretty and serene, noiselessly approaching and draping the blanket over her exposed legs.

He then meandered over to the gaping window, the cerulean night sky silhouetted by the swarthy trees and faint shape of boats lining the dock.

His eyes snagged on to the picture frames he’d packed from Tannyhill, the final memory of the family he once had. In all honesty, he was going to put them in the trash, or at least let them gather dust in some storage unit miles away; Sofia had been the one to convince him to keep them when she was helping him move out of Tannyhill all those many months ago.

“They’re your family Rafe, you can’t just throw them away like that, come on I’ll help you pack them up.”

It hurt to see that picture of him when he was in his early teens, making Sarah what? Ten? Eleven? Because all he could think about was how she looked when he held her under the water– the terror in her eyes, the tremble of her body. She’d turned into a little girl in that moment, so frail and scared..

“It’s Sarah…it’s your sister…please stop.”

She’d begged, clutching at him, clawing at him. The recollection made him nauseous.

His father used to always say “Family is the most important thing” and here he was alone and unmoored, his two baby sisters no longer with him. His heart ached with a sudden and deep grief, as if he’d just realised the extent of what he’d lost.

But he wasn’t completely alone…he still had Sofia. He sometimes thought of her like light– she had this effervescent, incandescent quality to her. The way her eyes would light up like liquid gold, how her hair glinted bronze in the sun, her smile exuding lustre. She’d make him feel lighter too. Rafe mulled over her words again.

She had a point– he didn’t do the right thing. And he was going to fix that by amending his relationship with Sarah, getting Wheezie back from Rose’s clutches, and finally start a family of his own– with the woman he loved. Sofia wouldn’t lead him astray.

Rafe walked over to her slumbering body, crouching down as quiet as he could be, taking a seat next to her. She stirred slightly, but stayed fast asleep, almost subconsciously nearing him in her dream state. The thought brought a small smile to his face.

His thinking drifted back to the morning, when they were getting ready for the beach. She was telling him how maybe Hollis’ deal was legit, about how the patrons of the club were all gunning for it.

Rafe knew how to show her he listened, show her he valued her– he’d take Sofia’s advice seriously. And with Goat Island soon to be his, Rafe could start that new life and finally start that family, all with Sofia by his side.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

[hellkeepers-if]

DEMO (prologue out) UPDATES

Set in an alternate version of Singapore, you're a fresh university graduate bumbling through life as you desperately look for a job.

...Or that's what your mother thinks. In a world where occult ceremonies are as common as an existential crisis, there's no way you were ever going to be a perfectly average office worker. Just like your twin brother, you work for the International Society Of Exorcists (ISOE) which deals with supernatural occurrences, demonic rituals, and the like.

When a tragic event befalls your older sister, it uproots your entire life and everything you ever knew about the supernatural. With it, comes a forced need to come to terms with a family history straight out of the movies. 

After all, how the hell did it take twenty years to find out that you're descended from the freaking king of the underworld?

"I have a duty to myself, but more importantly, my family."

——————

Inspired by Supernatural, Fullmetal Alchemist, Noragami, and the Percy Jackson series, Hellkeepers is a +18 urban fantasy/paranormal interactive fiction, involving elements of Chinese and Southeast-Asian mythology. In every playthrough, you will...

• Play as a female, male, or non-binary Chinese demigod/ess.

• Determine the relationships between you and your family members. After all, they will play a big part in your story...

• Peel apart the full truth behind you and your siblings' birthright. Your parents can't hide it forever.

• Learn more about Chinese and Southeast Asian mythology as you warp into different dimensions, unlike anything you've seen before.

• Learn more about who you were in your past life.

| Nishimura Kazuo (he/him)

Age: 26

Ethnicity: Japanese

With a penchant for mischief and a charm that woos even the most stubborn of grandmas, Kazu is the wildcard of your organization. You think he's an anarchist, and the only reason he's tied down to the ISOE is so that he has an excuse for whatever havoc he wreaks on the supernatural. 

The A-ranked exorcist is your colleague and your brother's mentor, though you rarely ever see him in his office. But if you ever need him for demon fighting, he'll be there. Most of the time.

"Mind taking that pesky thing out for me while I take a quick nap?"

| Quentin Khanh (Quan) (he/him)

Age: 25

Ethnicity: Vietnamese

Quentin, more affectionately known as Quan, was your childhood friend. After he moved overseas, the weekly texts you sent him fizzled into nothing but a lost friendship.

Since then, he's returned to Singapore as a forensics pathologist and researcher under your organisation. Whether you like it or not, you have to no choice but to work with him for most of your investigations.

"If your bribe doesn't involve a penthouse worth of money, don't talk to me."

| Reyna Aliyah Santos (she/her)

Age: 23

Ethnicity: Mixed (Filipino-Chinese)

You've never quite met someone like Reyna. A halfling with a demon mother and a human father. Being raised in Singapore all her life with little knowledge of her parents, it's natural that Reyna would come to the ISOE for help at the mere instance of a fox tail and white fur.

You've been tasked to help her mask and get comfortable with her supernatural powers, but she won't make it easy for you. After all, foxes do bite. 

"Technically, I'm not stealing anything if they don't notice."

| Song Huayun (she/her)

Age: ????

Ethnicity: "Uhh...from Hell?" Chinese

| You don't know too much about Huayun, except for the fact that she lives in Diyu, the Chinese Underworld. As Diyu's gatekeeper, Huayun has seen countless depravities committed by humans before their deaths. That alone has made it hard for her to like them, and the contempt she shows you is no different than what she shows everyone else.

But with time, maybe she'll finally learn what it is like to feel human…and what a smile is.

"If it isn't the star of tonight's show. Welcome to Diyu."

| The Arbiter of Fate (m/f)

Theyre a stranger, or so you say. But this deity knows everyone...especially you.

[talkdutchtome]

Two lines - Max Verstappen

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )

genre . . . slight angst, fluff )

summary . . . a one night stand with the formula one world champion ends with an expected pregnancy, can the two of you figure out how to co-parent for the sake of the new life on the way )

requested?. . . based on this request )

warning . . . mentions of sex, one night stand, pregnancy, medical emergency, eclampsia, emergency c-section )

word count . . . 8.8k words )

a/n . . .this is without a doubt the longest and most in-depth piece of work i've done for this blog, i've worked so so hard on this so i hope you all love it. any and all feedback is welcome and encouraged; let me know what you think )

Two lines. Two lines is all it took to completely turn your life upside down. This morning you were feeling positive, life was going well. You had just got a promotion at your job; you were on the back of a great second date with a really lovely guy, you had plans to go out with your girls to celebrate. Life was good. But now, sat on a toilet in a cramped grocery store bathroom, you could almost see all of that goodness and light evaporate into thin air. Now the only thing that was positive was the pregnancy test that sat in the palms of your hands. You did want kids, but not like this. You wanted kids when you were settled down, married with a house and a dog. That was the plan; the plan that you had in your head since you were 11 years old. Grow up, climb the career ladder, meet the love of your life, get married, buy a house- then and only then have kids. Nowhere in that plan did it state have a one-night stand with a Formula One driver in a club bathroom and get pregnant, yet here you are. Two lines.  

Four weeks ago, your best friend Mia dragged you to a Formula One race. Neither of you particularly cared for the sport however she had just started dating Charles Leclerc and he had asked her to come and see him race, so she decided that you needed to come with her for support. After the race she also insisted you come with them to the nightclub for the same reason. Things were going fine, Charles was nice, his friends seemed okay. However, things took a turn when she and Charles disappeared halfway through the night leaving you alone with none other than Max Verstappen. It was awkward to say the least. He didn’t seem happy or in a particularly chatty mood so you both did what any reasonable adult would do in that situation- get black out drunk. One drink turned to two drinks, which turned to three and then four. Eventually, the mixed spirits in your system lead to the pair of you getting closer and closer together until the tension was unbearable and you ended up hiding away in the private bathroom with him. No contact details were exchanged by either of you, why would there be, it was a one-time thing - you were never going to see each other again, right?  

You hadn’t really thought about that night again until now. Mia and Charles’ relationship eventually fizzled out as quickly as it had started and your brief time in the world of Formula One had ended. Your focus was on Tom, the guy you were dating now. Fuck. Tom. How in the world are you supposed to tell a guy you have been on two dates with that you were pregnant? What were you meant to say at work? Thanks so much for the promotion, see you in a year? You were well and truly fucked. Should you tell Max? You wouldn’t even know how to contact him without going through Mia and that was not an option. You never told her that you even slept with him, you can’t just drop the fact that you’re pregnant with her ex-boyfriend’s best friend's baby. To put it plainly, you had no idea what the hell you were going to do.  

Four weeks later and you were slowly making your way through telling everyone who needed to be told, apart from the most important of course; you still hadn’t figured out how to tell Max. Telling your work was first, there wasn’t any issues there and it gave you a false sense of security, thinking that maybe everything would be okay. However, telling Tom did not go as well. After learning that the girl he had been casually dating had fallen pregnant, he essentially sprinted away from the situation, and you, as fast as he could. Then it was time to tell Mia, who for some reason found it hilarious; or at least until she realized that it meant she would have to contact Charles so you could tell Max. Your parents were upset at first but quickly warmed to the idea of being grandparents. As time went on, the dread you felt lessened and lessened and was replaced with excitement. You nicknamed the baby Little Bump and spoke to it every night. Even if this wasn’t what you planned, it was going to be okay. It was you and your Little Bump against the world.  

Even though you were content with raising the baby by yourself, the people in your life didn’t seem to agree. Your parents, who didn’t know who the father was, endlessly asked you about him and if he knew and if he wanted anything to do with it. Mia, however, who did know it was Max, held the position that Max had the right to know what was going on. It’s not like you didn’t agree with her, you did. But the fear of his reaction prevented you from being able to tell him. If he reacted badly and told you to go away and never come back, what were you supposed to do in 10 years' time when your child started asking why they didn’t have a dad. You couldn’t exactly tell that poor kid that he wanted nothing to do with us but if you tune into Sky Sports on a Sunday you might catch a glimpse of him.  

So, you didn’t tell him. You go through the motions of pregnancy without him. Morning sickness, scans and checkups. You were happy with your choice; you’d both be okay without him. But that all changed the second you felt your little bump kicking. The feeling of movement in your stomach made everything so much more real. No longer was the baby just a concept, but a real human being growing inside of you. It dawned on you then, that even if you were perfectly capable of raising Little Bump by yourself, this little baby was a privilege; and it was a privilege that Max should have the opportunity to have too.

You needed to tell him, that was decided. The next part was figuring out how. Luckily for you, a quick google search told you that the next Formula One race was in a city not too far out from where you lived. So, you go to the city you know he’s going to be in, Mia insists on coming with you, both for emotional support but also to make sure both you and Little Bump stay safe.  

The first issue to tackle when arriving is convincing Mia to call Charles. She never told you what happened between the two of them but whatever it was it was clearly not a clean break. The second obstacle was convincing Charles to actually give Mia Max’s number. Apparently phoning up your ex to ask for one of their best friend’s phone numbers isn’t really socially acceptable. However, after much persuasion he eventually gave it up; so now you were in the same city as him and you had his number. All that was left was to tell him. You typed up a message telling him everything; before swiftly deleting it and writing it again, and then again, and then again. The cycle went on for hours; you just didn’t know how to tell someone that you hardly knew that they were going to be a father. Eventually, you settled on sending a message simply asking him to meet you.  

You- Hi Max, It’s Y/N. We met the other week through Mia and Charles. I’m in town, could we meet? There’s something I need to talk to you about?  

Max- Oh hi yes Y/N I remember. I’m sorry I’m really busy with the race so I don’t have time for anything  

You- It is really quite important. Please. 

Max- Okay fine. Come to the track, I’ll put your name on the guest list, and I can give you 5 minutes before qualifying starts. 

The nerves were becoming unbearable now. You had thought about turning around and running away multiple times on the drive to see Max, but you preserved; not for yourself but for Little Bump who deserved a chance of having a dad. Arriving at the track, you did as he said and told the security that you were on the guest list, and they let you through without too much issue. The urge to run away became stronger the closer you got to actually talking to him, you just had a feeling that things were not going to end well but against your better judgement you sent a quick text message to Max informing him you were waiting for him in catering.  

The second you caught sight of him coming towards him you could have sworn Little Bump started kicking, affirming to you that you were making the right decision. This baby deserved a dad, and you couldn’t be the person who stood in the way of that.  

“Hey Y/N I’m in a bit of a rush. What was you needed?” He asked the second he got close enough to you for you to hear him. This was it. Now or never. You were going to tell him.  

“Max I’m-” you begin to speak before you are promptly cut off by a sudden surge of nausea. With one hand clamped to your mouth desperately trying not to embarrass yourself and vomit everywhere, you ran to the nearest bathroom, leaving a stunned Max Verstappen in your wake, wondering what the hell happened.  

After a sufficient time in the bathroom, you gingerly returned back to the catering area, expecting Max to be long gone; but to your surprise he was sat at the table you had just left, his face painted with worry. You couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking, a random one-night stand gets your number, demands to see you and then runs away to be sick; you couldn’t look more unstable if you tried. Despite this, however, Max had waited.  

“Are you okay Y/N? What just happened?” he asked  

“Oh yeah, I’m fine that’s nothing to worry about, it’s like this every morning.” The words left your mouth before you realized that maybe you shouldn’t have said that. The worry on Max’s face only increases with your comment. You can see he’s trying to find the words to ask you what the hell is going on and you’re aware that he needs to be getting ready for qualifying like now, so you bite the bullet and just come out with it.  

“Max I’m pregnant” you say before closing your eyes, not wanting to even see his reaction. You’re expecting shouting, frantic questions or denial; instead, you are met with silence. When your eyes open you are met with Max stood there white as a sheet looking like he was desperately trying not to pass out.  

“I know this is a bit of a shock, but I haven’t... with anyone else so it’s definitely-” you go to assure him that you’re sure that the baby is his but are interrupted by a women walk up and stand in between the both of you.  

“Hey baby I was looking for you everywhere” the woman spoke before wrapping her arms around Max and pulling Max into a hug. If Max looked like he was going to pass out before, he looked like he was about to drop down dead now.  

“Hey Beth, I just came down for a coffee and bumped into Y/N, she’s Charles’ friend.” Max said, barely able to get the words out. The women, Beth, turned to look at you for the first time.  

“Hi I’m Beth; Max’s girlfriend.” Beth said as she stuck her hand out for you to shake and you felt the feeling of nausea come back- Max having a girlfriend would make this whole situation a lot more complicated. You forced a smile and shook her hand, trying desperately not to need to be sick again. 

“Oh Hi, yeah I’m Charles friend.” That’s a lie, you hadn’t spent more than a few hours with Charles in your life and he spent the majority of them with his tongue down Mia’s throat. 

“How long have you been together?”  

“2 years.” Beth’s words made your heart drop. Two years? There’s no way you could have heard that right. You look to Max for clarification that you misheard Beth, but he had his eyes closed, trying desperately to wish away this conversation. 

“Beth, you go on I’ll just grab my coffee and come and catch up with you.” Max finally spoke up after a while of silence and even though Beth didn’t seem to like that idea very much, she did as he said and walked away. Once Max was sure she was out of earshot he began speaking again.  

“Look I really can’t do this here. Text me the address of your hotel and I’ll come around tonight.” he told you before walking away. Maybe that was a positive thing, you thought to yourself, at least he wants to talk about it and not just pretend he didn’t hear you and move on.  

You had been pacing around your hotel room since you arrived back after speaking to Max at the track, deeply regretting ever coming and telling him. With Max having a girlfriend there is almost no chance that he would want to be a part of your and Little Bump’s life, especially if he did cheat on his girlfriend with you like you assumed. The thought made you sick, you had been cheated on before and it killed you and to think that you played a part in her pain drove you insane. You were infuriated at Max; so, when he knocked on your door that night you were prepared to tear him a new one. But when he walked on the room in silence, looking like a man who had lost all hope, the anger you felt seemed to slip away.  

“Are you sure?” he asked after a few moments of awkward silence between the two of you. His voice seemed so much weaker than you remembered it all those months ago, he didn’t look like a confident two-time world champion like he did when the two of you got in this mess, he looked small and frail.  

“Yeah, Max, I’m sure. But I understand why you wouldn’t be able to just take my word for it so when Little Bump is born, I’m happy to do a paternity test” 

“Little Bump?” 

“Yeah, I haven’t found out the gender yet so that’s what I’ve been calling it.” You could have sworn you saw the smallest smile creep onto his face. 

“Max, Beth said you had been together for two years, is that true?” You asked him and if there was a smile on his face before, there definitely wasn’t now. 

“It is but we broke up for a bit, during the- well you know” he spoke, and you could feel your heart rate start to calm down. This situation isn’t good by any means but at least you weren’t involved in an affair.  

“Look Max, I don’t expect anything from you. If you want me to go now I will, and you’ll never see me again. I don’t want money from you or anything like that. All I wanted was to give you a chance to be in Little Bump’s life.” You told him and braced yourself for him to confirm that he did indeed want you to leave and never come back. 

“No. I do want to- I don’t really know what this is or how to do it but if I’m going to have a kid, I’m going to be there for it.” His words made you smile, even if this situation was messy and uncomfortable; it would all be worth it if you could give Little Bump a dad it would all be worth it. 

“Okay well I’ve got a scan next week, you can come to that if you’d like?” you asked him, expecting him to say no, to tell you that he would be too busy but instead he surprised you. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there” 

Every day from that night in your hotel room to the day of the scan Max had texted you, checking up on you and Little Bump. Truly the last thing you had expected was that he would not only want to be a part of the baby’s life, but he seemed to actually care. Maybe this would all be okay, the two of you could co-parent and Little Bump would grow up with two parents who loved it. When the day of the scan came around, Max informed you that he would be picking you up early and taking you to lunch before your appointment to ‘get to know each other’. This made you more nervous that you cared to admit, the time you had spent with Max prior to this was short-lived and not filled with very much talking, hence why you were in this situation, so you really had no idea what kind of person he was or if the two of you would even get on., he could be an absolute arsehole for all you knew. But after only 30 minutes of spending time with him you realized that he was one of the sweetest people you had ever met 

“So, how’s Beth?” you asked him once you were at the restaurant, curious to know if she had been made aware of the situation yet. 

“She’s okay. I told her” Max said, his eyes fixed on his food in front of him, not daring to look up. 

“Oh, how did that go?”  

“It was pretty rough at first, she was really upset. But I think we’re going to make it work” He looked up at you this time and his eyes bore into you. The feeling of a lump in your throat made itself known but you swallowed it down; it’s not like you were jealous or anything but you were aware of how complicated this situation was going to be, and it would be made even more complicated with another person involved.  

“That’s good then” you told him, forcing a smile, not wanting Max to catch on to your worries. Even if you did have reservations on how this whole situation would play out, so far Max had been nothing but helpful and co-operative, so you knew you owed it to him to give him the benefit of the doubt.  

“So, I was thinking, we need to come up with some sort of plan as to how this is going to work” Max told you, looking very nervous.  

“I grew up only living with my dad, and that meant I didn’t get to see my mum much at all and that was really hard. I didn’t really have a relationship with her until I was an adult, and the last thing I want is for the baby to have to go through that. I don’t want to have to wait 20 years to have a relationship with Little Bump” his voice dropped to a whisper for the last sentence, and you could see the pain in his eyes, this was clearly something that had been playing on his mind. Truthfully, you had no idea how this would work; Max lived in a different country to you, and he travelled so much for work, so it certainly wasn’t going to be easy. But looking into his worried eyes, you couldn’t help but want to assure him that everything would be okay. Across the table, Max sat with a haunted look in his eyes, his vulnerability on full display. You could sense the weight of his past trauma casting shadows over his usually confident exterior. As he picked at his food, his hands shook slightly, betraying the turmoil within. Max's voice, usually steady and assured, now carried a quiver that hinted at the lingering scars of childhood. You watched as he spoke, his words faltering at times, like a wounded child trying to find his way in a world that had once been unkind. With each sentence, it became evident that Max's past still clung to him, a heavy burden he struggled to bear. All you wanted to do was to reach across the table and hold him, to let him know that he doesn’t have to pretend to be strong. 

“I can’t tell you what is going to happen Max, but I can promise you that we will make it work. Our baby will have two parents” the smile Max gave you in response to your words made your heart melt, and you couldn’t help feeling like things were going to work out.  

“Okay Mum and Dad are we ready to see the baby?” The nurse asks you after placing the cold gel on your exposed stomach, ready to get the ultrasound going. As you both sat in the dimly lit ultrasound room, Max's eyes were fixed on the monitor, and his fingers trembled slightly as he held your hand. It was the first time he had witnessed the miracle of your growing baby, and the emotions that welled up inside him were impossible to contain. He tried his best to hide it, but a tear welled up at the corner of his eye, threatening to escape. The nurse moved the wand across your belly, and the image of your tiny, squirming baby filled the screen. Max's breath caught as he saw those delicate features, the tiny heart beating steadily. You could see the awe and love in his eyes, the way his lips curved into a soft smile that he couldn't suppress. Though he tried not to show it, his voice was tinged with emotion as he whispered, "That's our baby, Y/N." It was a moment of profound connection, and Max's unspoken feelings filled the room with a warmth that was as undeniable as the love you both felt for the new life growing within you. 

Max couldn't shake the overwhelming emotions that had swelled up during the ultrasound. As you both walked out of the clinic, he stopped and took your hand, his eyes still filled with that deep, newfound love for the life growing inside you. 

"Y/N," he began, his voice gentle and earnest, "I want you to move in with me. I want to be there for you and Little Bump, every step of the way. I want to take care of you both." You hesitated, your mind racing with practical concerns. You hardly knew Max, and he wanted you to move country and live with him. Even if you wanted to you couldn’t afford it, you’d have to leave your job which would mean no maternity pay. Plus, Max had a girlfriend, you couldn’t imagine her being too thrilled about her boyfriend moving in with another woman. 

“Max, that’s sweet but it’s not possible. What about my job? What about Beth?” You asked, trying to make him see that this wasn’t rational, it wouldn’t work, but still Max's gaze remained unwavering. 

"We'll figure it all out, Y/N. Beth will be okay with it, she will understand why this needs to happen. Please don’t worry about any of it, I want you to focus on your health and the baby's well-being. And as for your job, well, none of that matters. I can take care of us financially. I want to be there for my child, for you. Please, Y/N, say you'll move in with me."  

Tears welled up in your eyes, not just from the pregnancy hormones but from the overwhelming love and support Max was offering. Maybe this was crazy, you thought to yourself, there's no way this would work; but when you looked into his eyes, you could see his sincerity, he really meant every word  

So, against your better judgement, you nodded, a heartfelt smile breaking through. "Okay, Max. I trust you. Let's do this together."  

The move happened quickly; Max was eager to make sure that he could look after you as much as he could. Your job wasn’t too happy at you for quitting so soon after receiving a promotion, your mum and dad thought you were completely insane. Until now you refused to tell them who the dad was, now all of a sudden not only is the Formula One world champion the dad but you’re also moving to Monaco to live with him. Although if you thought telling your parents was hard, telling Max’s was even worse. Meeting Jos Verstappen was an experience that you would never forget. Before you left Mia informed you that Jos was known for being very overbearing and having a very short temper; however, nothing she could have said would have prepared you for what was to come. It started with Max telling Jos multiple times to speak English rather than Dutch, so you weren’t just sat there witnessing the whole situation go down without any idea what they were saying. Then Jos became angry at Max for making such a horrible mistake, after that he became angry at you, alleging that you had planned this to trap Max and steal his money. Throughout the whole ordeal, Max was able to stay calm, gently telling his dad that he was happy and excited to be a father, however when Jos started on you Max’s patience was gone immediately. Telling his father that you weren’t like that and the two of you were happy and were going to raise this baby whether he liked it or not. You couldn’t help but notice that even when Max was clearly very angry at his father, he never once raised his voice or lost his temper, instead choosing to calmly explain the situation to him and let him know how it was going to go down. This, to you, was extremely reassuring, you were still getting to know Max and the person who he was; and every day he proved himself to be a good person, somebody who would be a great dad. 

When you arrived at Max's apartment, you were taken aback by the thoughtfulness he had poured into preparing a room just for you. The soft hues of pastel blue and warm beige on the walls exuded a calming atmosphere, and a vase of fresh flowers sat on the bedside table. A plush blanket adorned the bed, and there was a selection of your favorite books on the shelf. He had clearly spoken to Mia to get this all prepared 

"Max, this is incredible," you said, feeling deeply touched by his effort. "I never expected you to do all this." He smiled warmly and gestured toward a door at the end of the hallway.  

"And this," he said, leading you to another room, "I thought it could be the nursery, but I wanted you to have a say in how we decorate it. I didn't want to presume anything." 

Tears welled up in your eyes again, this time from the sheer care and consideration he had put into making you feel comfortable. Max was doing everything he could to ensure you and the baby felt at home. 

"Max, you're amazing," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.  

"Thank you for being so thoughtful and caring." He held you close, his embrace filled with love and reassurance.  

"Y/N, I just want you and our baby to be happy here. Anything you need, just let me know." As you settled into your new home, you couldn't help but feel incredibly grateful for the man who was putting in a genuine effort to make you as comfortable as possible. 

The first few days of living with Max had gone surprisingly smoothly, a peaceful coexistence that allowed you both to settle comfortably into your new life together. However, when Beth caught wind of the new arrangement, her arrival was swift and unexpected. You retreated to your bedroom to give them space, though overhearing the ensuing argument left you feeling uneasy. From your bedroom, you couldn't help but overhear the escalating argument between Max and Beth. Their voices carried the weight of frustration and anger as Beth expressed her displeasure about you living with Max. 

"I just don't understand why you need to do this, Max," Beth said, her voice trembling with frustration. "I get that you want to be a part of the baby's life, but why does Y/N have to be part of ours?" 

Max's response came, softer but firm, "Beth, I want to give our child the family life I never had. That means being there for Y/N and the baby."  

Beth's anger didn't abate, and she retorted, "But what about us? What about our plans and our future?" 

Max took a deep breath, his voice filled with resolve. "Right now, Y/N and the baby are my priority. I thought you'd understand." 

As the argument reached a fever pitch, Beth eventually stormed out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind her. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as you realized that your presence was causing tension in Max's relationship, even though he had been nothing but caring and supportive toward you. 

Max, after a moment of silence, knocked on your bedroom door gently and entered. He looked tired but determined. 

"Y/N, I'm sorry you had to hear that," he said, his eyes filled with regret. "But please understand, you and the baby mean the world to me right now. I want to do right by both of you." 

You nodded, your own heart heavy with the knowledge that your presence was complicating Max's life. "I appreciate everything you're doing for us, Max." 

He gave you a reassuring smile, reaching out to hold your hand. "We'll get through this together, Y/N. You and Little Bump are my family now, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you both have everything you need." 

As you looked into his eyes, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unwavering support and love Max was offering, even if it meant navigating rocky waters in his personal life. 

Later in the evening, there was a gentle knock on your bedroom door, and when you opened it, Max stood there with a somewhat downcast expression. “Do you want to do something, watch a movie or something maybe?” He asked, his voice much weaker than usual. You could tell that the earlier argument with Beth was still weighing on his mind. Although you were tired and had been ready to turn in for the night, you couldn't resist the opportunity to lift his spirits. 

Seeing the need for a distraction, you smiled warmly at Max and said, "Of course, Max, I'd love to watch a movie with you." Your willingness to spend time with him despite your fatigue was a silent gesture of support, and it brought a grateful smile to his face. 

Together, you made your way to the living room, choosing a film that promised both entertainment and distraction and settled into the cozy living room to share another memorable moment. The screen flickered to life, and as the movie started, you both found yourselves lost in the world of the film. 

Laughter filled the room as you traded jokes and amusing commentary throughout the movie, creating an atmosphere of joy and connection. Max seemed to have a way of making you laugh, and his infectious humor was a delightful addition to the evening. 

As the movie continued, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and contentment sitting beside him. It was as if the worries and complications of life had momentarily melted away, leaving behind only the warmth of his presence. As the movie rolled on, the comfort of Max's presence began to take hold. The long day had left you weary, and you couldn't help but stifle a yawn. Max, ever attuned to your needs, glanced at you and seemed to understand. Wordlessly, he patted his lap, inviting you to lay your head there. With a grateful nod, you shifted closer, resting your head gently against his thigh. The soft fabric of his jeans felt warm and comforting against your cheek. As the movie's plot unfolded, Max's fingers, now tender and caring, began to play with your hair. The gentle strokes sent a cascade of shivers down your spine, and an unexpected sensation of butterflies fluttered in your stomach. 

It was at that moment, as Max's fingers continued their soothing dance, that you began to question the nature of your feelings for him. Were they merely the result of his kindness and care during this challenging time, or was there something more profound at play? Trepidation crept in as you wondered if your feelings for Max were more than just those of a friend. You felt a pang of guilt, he was still with Beth after all. Uncertainty swirled within you as you mustered the courage to speak up. 

"Max," you began hesitantly, "I hope I didn't cause any more trouble between you and Beth." 

Max, who had been lost in thought, looked down at you, his eyes filled with understanding. He let out a sigh and replied, "It's probably over, Y/N. To be honest, it was never great anyway, which is why we took a break – you know when we-." 

You offered an apologetic look, feeling torn between sympathy and concern for your growing feelings. "I'm sorry, Max. I didn't mean to complicate things." 

Max's gaze softened, and he reassured you, "Don't worry about it, Y/N. The relationship wasn't very good, even before the break. You're not to blame." 

As the movie played on, your head still nestled in his lap and his fingers continuing their gentle caress, you couldn't help but contemplate the complexity of your emotions. With a sense of unease and curiosity, you wondered if Max was becoming more than just a friend to you. 

As the weeks turned into months, you couldn't shake the awkwardness that had crept in since you'd started to acknowledge your newfound feelings for Max. Your friendship with him meant the world to you, and you were determined not to jeopardize it. With the baby on the way, you knew you had to prioritize the stability and happiness of your growing family. So, you began to give yourself a bit of space from Max. You kept yourself busy with prenatal classes, doctor's appointments, and preparing for the arrival of your baby. The distraction of these tasks allowed you to maintain a semblance of normalcy in your life, even as your emotions remained tumultuous beneath the surface. 

Max was away often for work and training anyway so that provided a convenient buffer and you could tell yourself that the physical distance was for the best, that it helped you maintain control over your feelings. However, as the due date rapidly approached and the Formula One season ended, he was home more often. It became increasingly challenging to avoid him, especially when he was eager to be a part of your pregnancy journey and offer his support. 

Despite the swirling emotions within you, you couldn't deny that you still cherished his presence in your life. You wrestled with the guilt of harboring feelings for a man who was going above and beyond to look after you and Little Bump, but you also knew that the priority was providing your baby with a loving and stable environment. Balancing these conflicting emotions was a delicate dance, and as you found yourself spending more time with Max in preparation for the baby's arrival, the challenge of keeping your feelings in check grew more daunting with each passing day. 

With your due date beginning to approach, the need to get the nursery ready became ever present so you decided to take on the task of building the flat packed crib that had been sitting in it’s box for the past few weeks. The crib's pieces lay strewn about, and you were carefully studying the instruction manual when Max entered the room. Seeing you hunched over the crib parts, Max immediately expressed his concern, his voice filled with care. "Y/N, you really should be resting right now. Let me handle this for you. You've been working so hard, and I don't want you to overexert yourself." 

You appreciated Max's thoughtfulness, but you were determined to see this task through on your own. "Max, I want to do this. I need to know that I can handle things as a mum." 

Max respected your determination but didn't want to see you pushing yourself too hard. After a brief back-and-forth, a compromise was reached. You both decided to tackle the crib assembly together, enabling you to feel like you were able to complete the task but also allowing Max to watch over you and ensure you and Little Bump were safe.  

As the crib slowly started to take shape, you couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment at the thought of your baby soon resting in it. Max, however, was unusually quiet. His brow furrowed with a deep concern that had been lurking in the corners of his mind. You could sense that something was troubling him, and as you worked together to piece the crib together, you decided to broach the topic gently. 

"Max, is everything alright?" you asked, your voice filled with care. 

He sighed, setting down a wooden panel for a moment, and looked at you with a mixture of vulnerability and doubt. “I don’t know, I guess I’m just worried. I see the way you talk to your stomach, I know you’re going to be such a good mum to our Little Bump. I just don’t know if I’m going to be a good dad. I know how bad having a shit dad can fuck someone up, I just want more for my kid.” 

Your heart ached for Max as you recognized the fear that had been gnawing at him. You set aside your own concerns and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him in a comforting hug. "Max, the fact that you're so concerned about being a good dad proves that you're already on the right path. You care deeply, and that's the most important thing. We'll learn and grow together as parents, just like we've navigated everything else in our lives. You'll be an amazing dad because you want the best for our baby." Max held you close, his arms encircling you in a tight embrace. Being so close to him maybe wasn’t the best idea, but you could see how much he needed it.  

Despite your ever-growing feelings for Max, you kept it to yourself, doing everything you could to ignore the way that you felt about the man you were now preparing to be parents with. Your due date was only weeks away when you started to feel like you were going crazy, so you did what every woman does when she’s dealing with unrequited love, you bore out your entire heart to your best friend whilst eating ice cream by the metric tonne.  

“I just don’t know what to do Mia” you told your best friend over the phone one afternoon when Max was out getting supplies to finish decorating the nursery. 

“I think you just need to tell him, be completely honest” her words made you sigh. 

“Oh yeah so I just go up to him ‘hey Max I know we’re about to be parents and you’ve so kindly let me live in your house but I’m not happy just co-parenting with you, I love you and want to be with you, like a real family” You ranted to Mia but her response to you was cut off by a familiar voice laced with a Dutch accent speaking up. 

“What?” Your neck snapped up violently at the sound of his voice, Max stood in the doorway of your bedroom his face painted with a look of shock. 

Max's voice, tinged with both surprise and hurt, hung in the air, a heavy silence following his unexpected entrance into the conversation. You turned slowly, the phone clutched in your trembling hand, your eyes meeting his, wide with shock. The room seemed to shrink, and the air grew thick with tension as you realized he had overheard every word. His brows furrowed deeply, and he set the supplies he had been carrying onto the nearby table.  

"You... love me?" he asked, his voice shaky as if grappling with the revelation. You nodded, your eyes now glistening with unshed tears, unable to speak. Max took a step closer, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions, but the one that seemed to dominate was fear. "And you've been keeping this from me... all this time?" 

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. "I was scared," you whispered, finally finding your voice. "I didn't want to jeopardize what we have, the baby, our plans. I thought if I kept it to myself, things would be easier." 

Max ran a hand through his hair, clearly conflicted. "Easier? Do you think keeping something like this a secret is easier?" 

His frustration was apparent, you could hear it as his voice gradually became louder and angrier and you couldn't blame him. You had betrayed his trust, and he had a right to be upset. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you fought to hold them back. "I didn't know how you'd react, Max. I didn't want to push you away, especially not now when we should be focusing on preparing for the baby." 

"I understand, but I can't believe you kept something like this from me, especially at a time like this." His voice was laced with frustration, he brought his hand up to his head, running his fingers through his hair 

You nodded; your heart heavy with the intensity of his emotions. "I know, Max. I'm sorry; I should've been honest with you." 

Max's frustration was apparent as he walked towards the door. "I need some space to think, and I don't know what this means for us right now." 

With those words, he left the house, and you were left standing there, engulfed in a sea of turmoil. Panic took hold of you as you realized the enormity of what had just transpired. You had pushed Max away, and now you feared it might be too late to salvage your relationship. 

In the wake of Max's departure, the silence in the house became oppressive. Anxiety and self-doubt swirled in your mind, and you couldn't bear to stay there any longer. The urge to seek refuge with your parents, where you could find solace and guidance, became irresistible. 

In a manic rush, you hurriedly packed a bag with essentials, your heart racing with every passing second. Tears streamed down your face as you considered the drastic step you were about to take. With trembling hands, you purchased a last-minute plane ticket back to your hometown. 

The minutes felt like an eternity, but you were finally on your way to the airport. You left a hurried note for Max, explaining your need to be with family during this turbulent time. With your heart in your throat, you headed to the airport, driven by a frantic need to escape the chaos you had unleashed. 

The plane took off, carrying you away from the life you had built with Max, and the turbulence within you mirrored the journey. The fear of losing Max and the desperation for a fresh start with your parents guided you on this unexpected and tumultuous path. 

Max returned home the next day, his heart heavy with concern and regret. The house felt emptier than ever, and the silence only intensified his panic. He rushed to find his phone, fingers trembling as he tried to dial your number. But to his dismay, there was no answer on the other end. He left a voicemail, pleading for you to call him back as soon as you could. 

In his frantic state, Max's mind raced to find a solution. He knew he needed to find you, to make things right. He decided to call Charles, hoping he might have some insight or connection to your whereabouts. 

"Charles," Max said, his voice tight with anxiety, "I need your help. I can't reach Y/N. She's left, and I don't know where she's gone. Do you have Mia's number?" 

Charles, understanding the urgency in Max's tone, reluctantly provided Mia's number. Max immediately dialed it and hoped that Mia might have some answers. Mia answered after a few rings, and Max wasted no time 

"Mia, it's Max. I can't get through to Y/N. Do you know where she is? I need to talk to her." 

Mia's voice held a hint of worry as well. "I haven't heard from her since yesterday either, Max. She seemed really upset when you left. Let me give you her family's number; maybe they know something." 

Max was grateful for Mia's help as she provided him with your family's contact information. He dialed the number, his heart pounding in his chest. After a few rings, someone on the other end finally picked up. 

"Hello?" a voice answered. 

Max didn't waste any time. "Hi, this is Max. I'm looking for Y/N. She left a note saying she was going to see her family, but I haven't heard from her since. Is she with you?" 

There was a moment of confusion on the other end, followed by a sense of concern. "Max, I'm sorry, but we haven't heard anything about Y/N planning to visit us. Are you sure she's on her way here?" 

Max's panic deepened as he realized you hadn't reached your family, and he had no idea where you were. "I... I don't know. I'm really worried about her. If you hear from her, please let her know I'm looking for her and that I want to talk." 

Max hung up the phone, his mind filled with anxiety. He was determined to find you and make things right, but at that moment, he felt utterly lost without any leads to follow. 

As Max anxiously paced around the house, his worst fears were consuming him. He kept checking his phone, desperately hoping for a call or message from you. Every moment felt like an eternity, and the silence was deafening.  

Then, suddenly, his phone rang. It was your mum. Max's heart pounded in his chest as he answered the call, his voice trembling as he spoke, "Hello?" 

Your mum's voice was filled with worry and fear. "Max, it's Y/N’s mum. We just got a call from the hospital. She passed out at the airport, the staff found her and phoned an ambulance. We don't have many details yet, but we're on our way there now." 

Max's world seemed to spin as he struggled to process the shocking news. "Is she okay? What happened? The baby?" he stammered. 

Your mum's voice cracked with emotion as she replied, "We don't know, Max. They didn't tell us much over the phone. We're on our way to the hospital to find out." 

Max hung up the call, his hands shaking. Panic and fear gripped him as he realized the severity of the situation. He couldn't waste another moment. He immediately dialed his private jet service to book a flight to the hospital as soon as possible, not caring about the cost or inconvenience. All that mattered was getting to you and Little Bump 

Within minutes, the arrangements were made, and Max was on his way to the airport, his mind filled with a whirlwind of worry and thoughts of you. Time was of the essence, and he could only hope and pray that he would find you safe and sound at the hospital. 

Max's heart was racing as he landed and rushed to the hospital your mum had mentioned. Fear and uncertainty gnawed at him as he sprinted through the sterile hospital corridors, the tension in the air growing with each step. He finally found your room, where your parents were anxiously waiting just outside. 

Breathing heavily, Max approached them, his voice shaking as he spoke, "What happened? Is she okay?" 

Your mum stepped forward; her eyes red-rimmed from worry. "Max, she had a seizure, she had eclampsia, they needed to perform an emergency c-section" 

Max's heart seemed to stop for a moment, but he needed to know more. "Is she... Is the baby okay?" 

Your dad stepped in, his expression a mix of relief and concern. "Both Y/N and the baby are okay, Max. They're in recovery now." 

Max barely let them finish their explanation before he rushed into your room. There you were, sitting in a hospital bed, clearly still groggy from the medications they had administered. 

Max's eyes filled with tears as he approached you, his voice choked with emotion. "I was so scared, Y/N. Are you okay? Is the baby okay?" 

You blinked at him, your vision still hazy. "Max? What... happened?" 

He took your hand gently, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped his eye. "You had a seizure, but you and the baby are okay. That's all that matters." 

Max's relief was palpable, and he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to touch your face, his love and concern pouring forth. In that moment, nothing else in the world mattered but the fact that you and the Little Bump. 

  Max approached the bassinet where the baby lay, his heart pounding with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. With great care, he gently lifted the small, fragile form into his arms. As he cradled the tiny bundle close to his chest, a sense of wonder washed over him. 

He peered down at the baby's face, her features so delicate and new. The room seemed to fade away as he focused entirely on this precious, little life he now held in his arms. Max's eyes glistened with tears of joy and awe, his heart overflowing with emotions he had never experienced before. 

Every detail of the baby's face captivated him – her button nose, her rosebud lips, and her wisps of soft hair. He marveled at her innocence and vulnerability, realizing that he was now responsible for this tiny, perfect soul. 

With quivering lips, Max whispered softly, "You're a girl." The realization of this new chapter in his life, the responsibility of being a father to a daughter, filled him with a profound sense of purpose and love. 

He held her close, feeling her small chest rise and fall with each gentle breath. The bond he shared with his newborn daughter was a miracle that left him in awe. In that intimate moment, Max understood the beauty and fragility of life, and he couldn't help but smile, knowing that he was ready to embrace the journey of parenthood with all the love and dedication he could muster. 

Max held his precious daughter close, her small form cradled in his arms. He gazed down at her, the overwhelming love he felt for her and for you filling his heart. With a tenderness that could only come from a father's love, he whispered, "I love you, [Your Name]. I love our baby, and I'm so excited to start this new chapter of our lives together as a family, a real family." 

He could see that you were still fairly out of it, but he couldn't help but share his feelings in this moment. As he watched the baby's peaceful slumber, he asked, "What should we name her?" 

You fought against sleep, your eyelids heavy, but you managed to murmur, "Sophie." 

Max's eyes widened with surprise and joy. "Sophie? Like my mum?" 

With a weak but loving smile, you nodded. "Yeah, our daughter, Sophie Verstappen." 

Max's heart swelled with pride and love as he looked at his newborn daughter, Sophie. In that moment, as you drifted into slumber, he felt a profound sense of gratitude for the family he was building with you, a family that now included the beautiful Sophie Verstappen. 

Max's heart swelled with pride and love as he looked at his newborn daughter, Sophie. In that moment, as you drifted into slumber, he felt a profound sense of gratitude for the family he was building with you, a family that now included the beautiful Sophie Verstappen.  

As you drifted off to sleep, with Max sat beside you cradling your new-born daughter in his arms, you couldn't help but reflect on how your life had transformed for the better. It was a change that had been set into motion by just two lines on a pregnancy test. Two lines and your life was completely and irrevocably changed, and you couldn’t be happier. 

Taglist-

@sebastiansstanswhore @ironmaiden1313 @itsjustkhaos

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Good Company | Bucky Barnes

✦ pairing — Bucky Barnes x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.8k

✦ request — For the Christmas fics thing can I ask for something with Bucky Barnes? The reader is completely tired of her grandmother telling her that she should lose weight to get a boyfriend/fiancé right in front of the whole family at every Christmas dinner. The reader is talking about it with two of her coworkers/friends until Bucky interrupts her and tells her he can go with her as her boyfriend

✦ warnings — light angst, mentions of fatphobia, mentions of food and beverages (alcohol included), fake dating, fluff, kissing.

✦ author's note — changed this one a little bit just so I could leave some stuff up for interpretation or else I would have gone overboard.

════════════════════════

You weren't feeling as festive as everybody in the building. Your work environment was good, you got along with your coworkers just fine for the most part, and the pay wasn't bad at all.

Your family, though... there was room for improvement there. A big room. Maybe an open plan apartment's worth of improvement.

It had come to the point that you weren't sure you wanted to see them for the holidays. Your grandmother always had something to say about you — your career, your friends, your weight, your relationship status.

She wanted you to be just like her and your aunts, to 'make sacrifices for a greater life' as she so eloquently put it. You were supposed to hate yourself, to change everything about you to please her.

Her excuse always boiled down to your loneliness in the romantic department. You couldn't tell her about hook-ups and fizzled-out flings so you would often nod along and take her absurd comments.

You wouldn't handle them that well this year. It was a tough one for everybody, but she would only use it as an excuse to urge you to find a partner before life got worse.

Reaching your car in the parking area, you made sure it was intact before unlocking it. You were checking the backseat when someone called your name.

You half-expected to be told you were needed for an emergency, but as you searched for whoever had called for your attention, you found Bucky.

"Oh, hi, Bucky."

He gave you a small smile, greeting you back. "Going home?"

"Yeah. I hope traffic isn't too bad."

"You free for dinner or coffee?"

"Right now?"

"Uh-huh."

"Sure. "

He led you to a small bistro, one of those hole-in-the-wall establishments he always seemed to find. Bucky gave you recommendations from time to time, and that was the extent of your dynamic outside of work.

You ordered drinks first and talked about silly things while you decided what to order for dinner. Once the order was placed and you had a few sips in you, Bucky turned more serious.

First, he cleared his throat. Seemingly not comfortable enough yet, he sighed. "I heard your conversation with Nat and Sharon..."

You hadn't even seen him at lunchtime and somehow he had managed to hear your rant about family expectations. Which meant he heard you at the edge of crying over your overly honest grandma.

You looked down at your half-empty glass. "It's... a lot, yeah."

"I'm available for the holidays." He pulled a napkin and started rolling it up into a log. "I can go with you, say I'm your boyfriend. Or fiance if you want, I know a jeweler who could lend us a ring."

"I couldn't ask that from you. It's supposed to be a jolly time."

"I'm offering."

"A tempting offer," you admitted. You didn't want to sound desperate, although he certainly knew you were. "What would be in it for you? How would I repay you?"

"Not being alone on Christmas is enough already. "

He started to fold the napkin into a tiny square, focused on making it look perfect.

"Well, I'm sure my family will be happy to keep you company. So will I."

He looked up at you, then nodded. "Tell me about them?"

So you spent dinner telling him about your parents and grandparents for the most part, small details of your siblings and nephews. You didn't want to overwhelm him too much.

You also spent days worrying it would end in catastrophe. What would your family think of you if things were to fall apart?

Bucky didn't back down when you warned him about the questions he would have to endure, or when you reminded him he would have to be affectionate to you.

He helped you wrap gifts and asked your opinion on the clothes he planned to wear. He was also curious if your family knew he was coming.

They did. You told your mom a day after your dinner with Bucky, on your daily morning phone call. She was thrilled, albeit mad that you hid your relationship status for so long.

You just hoped your grandmother would be as thrilled – maybe less offended that you kept a man hidden from her scrutiny.

He laughed when you told him she probably would try to get him for herself and grabbed your hand to tug you closer. "Can't do. I'm already taken, didn't you know?"

"Oh, really? Are they a better prospect than my grandma and her handmade blankets?"

"Hey, you never said something about handmade blankets. I might have to reconsider."

You hit him on the shoulder without even realizing you were doing it.

He didn't complain. Instead, he pulled you into him and said, "Your grandma will have to settle for having me as a grandson."

You were sure she would be glad to.

Bucky was easy to like. You weren't worried that anybody would have anything negative to say about him, not even your overprotective brother.

Looking up at him, you felt your face warm up as you realized he had been staring already. "Do you want me to drive tomorrow?"

"No, no. You just gotta guide me and look pretty."

You tried hard not to think about it, about his flirting and compliments. It came easy to him, it wasn't a big deal.

Well, it shouldn't have been.

════════════════════════

You sat on the passenger seat, letting a Christmas playlist do the heavy lifting as you did your best not to bombard Bucky with suggestions as to what to say.

He wasn't stupid, and you had found he listened to what everybody said and internalized the useful parts. He didn't need you to treat him like a distracted child.

You just needed everything to be perfect and to survive Christmas dinner without crying for once in your adult life.

As if knowing you were torn between your anxiety and the catchy song playing, Bucky reached over and rested his hand on your knee.

"I'll be the best boyfriend, doll, don't worry."

You didn't doubt it. "I've never lied to them like this."

There was a first for everything. You were just glad you weren't doing it on your own.

Bucky helped you carry the gifts while you carried the cake you got from a bakery Sharon recommended.

Your mom opened the door in all her glory, with her hair done and a glittery black sweater underneath her red apron. Her eyes lit up when she saw you and Bucky, potentially more because he was real than because she missed you, and ushered you both inside.

Most family members were there already for your grand entrance, expectant, a tad impatient to see the man they would get to judge together.

Your brother and dad tore their eyes away from the football highlights on the TV at the same time, examining Bucky from head to toe.

Bucky introduced himself as such, just Bucky, but your brother insisted on calling him James which earned him a pointed look from your mom.

"I've heard so much about you," your mom said cheerfully. An attempt to dissipate whichever tension your brother could have arisen.

Bucky laughed charmingly, sharing a complicit look with you. People around you surely saw it as a gesture between lovers. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, ma'am."

He won her over with that, much like he did with your aunts and sister. Your brother would sneak weary glances from time to time and even looked offended when your dad laughed at something Bucky said.

But you agreed with your dad. Bucky was just so easily likable, serious on the exterior yet the funniest person you had met —a charming man who happened to be easy on the eyes.

Your grandmother, though, she almost fell in love with him. She grabbed your hand, giving it a strong squeeze. "See? I told you you'd be happier once you found a man."

You tried to smile at her.

"I'm the happiest," Bucky interjected. "Your granddaughter changed my life."

Your grandmother cooed, relishing just how right she had been. You were sure she was thinking you got lucky that you didn't even have to lose weight to find him.

If she thought so, she didn't say it. In fact, there wasn't a single comment regarding your weight the entire night. The fact that Bucky had his arm around your waist must have helped.

You saw another side of your grandmother, the fun one.

All you needed to be in harmony with your family had been to show up on somebody's arm.

It helped that Bucky was open to answering questions and patient with the kids who insisted he had to play with them because he was new.

Your brother was the only cautious one. He wasn't impolite, but his questions were as piercing as his eyes and his words too cold to come from your favorite person in the world.

He had never been anything but warm, much to some of the other men's disappointment. Raised mostly by your mom, you both were taught to be welcoming, to choose kindness even when it was the toughest thing to do.

But your kind brother didn't appear when it came to Bucky. You feared he knew you so well that your ruse had been discovered.

You followed your brother to the patio where you found him checking his phone. His fiancé was on a family trip, he probably missed them.

"You could be a little nicer," you said casually.

Your brother let out a huff, putting his phone away. "He looks like the type."

"The type?"

"Like the ones I had to beat up for breaking your heart in high school."

You tried not to think about those people and their cruel jokes. Their bets, their mocking tones. You had enough with the things your grandmother still said, the never-heard-before heartlessness she would throw your way the moment you showed up on your own again.

"This isn't high school."

"I'm looking out for you."

"Why don't you just say you think he's out of my league?"

"Because that's not it." He sounded offended, ever the protector. To make matters worse, he wisely said, "You didn't have to get a boyfriend if you weren't ready."

You frowned, trying to read his face in an attempt to find what he was getting at. Bucky wasn't the first person you had introduced your family to as a partner.

"If anything," he said, standing tall and lifting his shoulders in a shrug, "you're out of his league — who dates a coworker?"

"Me."

Your brother shook his head in disapproval, as he often did when you were younger. His semblance softened immediately. "You know what I mean."

"I don't."

He twisted his mouth, then tilted his head as he pointed —to him— the obvious, "He's more into you than you're into him."

"I wish you wouldn't say it like it's a bad thing."

"It is when you're so stiff around him."

Maybe you let your nerves get the best out of you. "I don't want to give Mom and Dad the wrong impression. Or grandma... you know how they are."

"Just... be careful. And call me if you need me; for anything."

You kissed his cheek in assurance and went back inside. Only then, you realized just how cold it was outside — you were only wearing a sweater.

You sat close to Bucky, resting your head on his bicep as your mom continued telling him about her upcoming retirement.

He wrapped his arm around you, bringing you closer. His comforting warmth seeped into you, pressed to his chest. He rubbed his hand along your arm, feeling just how cold you were.

You hoped he wouldn't want to move any time soon.

If he wanted to, he concealed it well. Bucky was hesitant to part from you when dinner was served, and even more after when your niece asked you to do her hair.

Eventually, you had to leave. It wasn't ludicrously late, but the drive was an hour long and you didn't have it in you to send Bucky home on his own while you stayed there for the night — inviting him to stay was out of the question.

He promised to visit soon, joking that he would bring you with him as a plus one. Your grandmother laughed so loudly that it scared you. It made you sad. You got your family's hopes up, and for what? A peaceful dinner that would only serve as a bitter reminder?

It was over so quickly and the aftermath would haunt you until you found someone else to lie. Or to actually date.

There was a chance you ruined it for yourself. Who would your grandmother approve of after having met Bucky?

You didn't know if you would approve of anybody else after that either. It didn’t snow this year. As though even the weather thought you had been wrong for lying to your family on Christmas from all days.

Bucky nudged you. "You good?"

"Yeah," you answered quickly

"You sure?"

"It was a long day."

"You didn't have a good time?"

"I woke up at five in the morning," you clarified. Not a lie, but you were used to that kind of schedule. "I'm surprised you still have so much energy."

"Having good company helped."

You hated that he said that.

It would have been so nice to agree, to enjoy how happy your grandmother had been, and your mom's laugh, and your sweet brother's worry...

Not hearing vitriolic comments about your body and lifestyle was lovely. You would still hear it soon, but at least your Christmas hadn't been ruined by your family but by yourself.

Sadness washed over you as your apartment came into view. You didn't know exactly why, he was still your friend, you would see him at work and have a secret just for the two of you which meant you were closer friends now.

You shouldn't have been glad to have him as a friend, to have a person willing to lie to multiple people just so you would have a good Christmas.

"Thank you. For everything." You didn't know how else to say goodbye. You would see him in a couple of days at work.

Ever the polite one, he smiled and said, "It was my pleasure."

You climbed out of the car and told him to drive safely. Bucky only nodded. Waving at him in goodbye, you smiled softly. Then, you stepped into the first front step.

"Hey,” he called for you from the car.

You turned around. “Yeah?"

He rolled the window up and killed the engine. Swiftly, Bucky got out of the car and approached you. "I liked it."

"You can come next year if you want." And if he wasn't busy. Or in a relationship.

"I didn't— I mean, yes, I would like that, but I liked the whole thing.”

Your heartbeat quickened. You lifted your eyebrows, not able to ask what he meant by that.

But you didn’t need to, Bucky was willing to openly say it, "You know, the handholding. And having you all over me especially.”

You froze on the spot, watching him get even closer. You were still on the first step, meeting his gaze by mistake.

He huffed to himself and added, "I always thought you were pretty, but having you this close... God, how did I ever go about my life without this? How can I go back to that?"

"Buck..."

"Look—"

"You wanna come in? Have some hot cocoa or a glass of wine?"

He let out a relieved laugh. “Yeah. It’s fucking freezing out here.”

It was and while you thought you looked pretty in your cozy sweater and your light coat, you really should have layered up. Bucky hung his jacket in the coat closet as though he had done so hundreds of times.

“Wine or hot cocoa?” you asked once he was comfortable in the living room.

“Wine.”

You pulled a pair of glasses out of the cupboard and set them on the counter.

Bucky stopped you from reaching for the bottle. “Wait.”

You turned around to face him. “Changed your mind?”

At the same time, he asked, “Can I kiss you first?”

You pressed your lips to his as an answer. He quickly kissed you back, cupping your cheek in one hand while the other one found the space between your hip and waist.

He caressed your cheek, making you sigh into the kiss which he took as an opportunity to deepen it. You grabbed his face, accepting the pace he chose to kiss you with.

The hold on your body became stronger as Bucky tried to pull you closer for which he lost his step, making you laugh and pull away in worry that he would hit his hip against the kitchen table.

He shook his head, assuring you he was fine.

Your hands ended up on his shoulders while he grabbed you by the waist with both hands.

"Merry Christmas," he said against your lips before kissing you again.

[thoughtsfromlayla]

Chapter One - Meretricious

Summary: Newly married and yet you already feel the loss of a spouse. The fight night as Queen was not how you expected it to be.

Notes: ~5.4k words. I feel like I write a lot of angst but does that mean I'm good at it? Probably not. Not edited

Warnings: implied cheating, subtle mentions of panic attacks, dubcon with no follow through

Tag list is open, just let me know!

☾ ✴ ๋࣭ ⭑․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․ ․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․ ․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Prologue ⇆ Next

Meretricious (adj.) - attractive on the surface but having, in reality, no value or substance

‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

By the time the ceremony was over and you were sitting at the lover’s table at the head of the banquet hall did you snap out of your phase. More specifically the food snapped you out of your phase. You have no idea how the cooks knew to serve you your favorite dish but they managed to get their hands on that information. 

The steaming food is served fresh and hot and placed delicately in front of you. Your stomach lurches as it realizes it hasn't eaten anything today. Your finger twitches as it reaches for the fork but stops short when you see that King Morpheus hadn’t moved to begin eating. You use all of your willpower to stop yourself, instead fiddling with the one of the many ribbons that decorated your body. 

Unknown to you, Morpheus sees your dilemma and even if he didn’t particularly find himself hungry, he moves to take a bite. He notices the way you perk up at the action and begins to eat yourself, thoroughly enjoying the meal. He stops himself when he realizes that he was smiling at your actions.

From your seat, you see your mom’s eyes boring into you with a slight frown. Your mother nods her head in the direction of the king, eyes slightly bugging out of her eyes as her lips turn downward. She nods again when you tilt your head in confusion at her odd messaging. 

“Talk,” She mouths at you before huffing and returning to conversation at her table. Her hand rests easily on your father’s back when she looks back at you one more time with another obvious nod. 

You clear your throat in preparation.

“So,” You start. 

“My lady,” He begins as well. 

The both of you stop talking as the other interrupts. After a pregnant pause, King Morpheus clears his throat and urges you to continue. 

“Please, I insist,” He comments with an open palm, gesturing towards you. 

As if by magic, all typical conversation starters seem to fizzle out of your head, even in muscle memory of the countless hours with your governess could not have saved you in this moment. What do you even say to the King? 

“How do you find the evening, Your Majesty?” You ask and immediately wish to hide under the many layers of your lavish dress at the question. You take a quiet deep breath to reset yourself at how increasingly awkward you had made the night. If not for him, then certainly for yourself. 

You did not forget the way he dropped your hands as soon as the vows stopped, nor the way that he all but ignored you the most that he could. Only talking to you now as you are forced into proximity with him. 

“Morpheus will be fine between us as we are married,” He comments slowly and takes a sip of his wine. 

“Very well… Morpheus,” You test the name on your tongue. It felt barren without his title attached to it, but it was just something you would have to get used to. 

“I find the evening well,” He replies without waiting a beat and takes another bite of his food. 

The tension was thick in the air, something that you couldn’t even cut with a sharp knife. The guests were talking amongst themselves, the food and wine good, but there was a clear and defined wedge between you and Morpheus. You’re determined to remove it as quickly as possible, Gods know you would prefer an amicable relationship even if forced into it. Yet, all words die from your mouth. The conversation has run dry before it even barely started. You only reply with a hum in acknowledgement before returning to your own dish as well. 

The silence is short lived as Three approaches the lover’s table. They walked in unison and in a line, their faces passive as they came closer. Morpheus was quick to notice them as well, and stood as they came closer. Uncertainty washes over you at his action and you decide best to follow suit. 

You stand, hand placed delicately over your lower stomach, but your foot crosses over your heel to ground yourself a bit. 

“Morpheus!” The youngest greets with a smile. 

“Ladies,” He returns the greeting. His eyes don’t leave theirs but he bows nonetheless. 

You’re quick to follow and give a curtsy as deep as the table could let you. You are way over your head. Never in your seemingly smaller life have you witnessed someone, some three, who warranted a bow from the king. 

The middle aged woman comes close to you when you stand up again, reaching over the short table to cup at your cheeks. 

“Oh, you are a peach, you are!” She gushes with a toothy smile. Small wrinkles crease along her eyes and mouth as she does. Her hands are soft but calloused all the same. “You are a perfect match for our dear Moprheus, I can feel it.” She whispers, mostly to herself. 

If Morpheus heard it, it certainly ignored it. Instead he redirects the conversation skillfully. The eldest ignores it, finding herself in front of you again and cups your cheeks just like the one before. Her hands are smooth and boney as they hold onto your face. Her face is less kind, gazing at you down her nose as she scrutinizes you. Her eyes seemingly cross over your mortal vessel into your very soul. She sees its timid nature, yet a hardened fire that just needed some hardship to see. 

“We come bringing gifts for the joyous occasion!” The youngest interrupts her older self, who walks back in line with the other two. 

“How kind of the Lady Fates.” Comes Morpheus’ perfect answer, he bows again and you follow. 

The youngest walks up first, and places an ornate wooden box onto the table. It’s framed in gold and silver with swirling designs and flowers. Her delicate fingers open the box and face it towards the two of you. Within, surrounded by red silk were two carved figurines that didn’t vaguely represent anyone you’ve ever met. They were stocky in shape, but detailed through a masterful paint job and varnish. 

“From the Maiden, I give Your Majesties a friend in a dire situation,” She announces and then closes the box with a soft click. She walks back in line as the next one walks forward. 

She doesn’t say anything, instead she only holds out both of her hands. After an awkward pregnant pause, she sighs and moves her fingers, indicating to hold her hand. You place your left hand in hers to which she smiles with a small nod of her hand towards you. Morpheus places his right hand on hers after yours but she drops it quickly with a scowl and a tick from her tongue. 

“The other hand, child,” She sighs again.

Morpheus switches his arm quickly and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from giggling in front of him. His body faces closer to you as to easier place his hand on the Mother. The smell of his cologne invades your senses, filling in your mind with the smell of sand and something sweet you couldn’t place your finger on. 

“From the Mother, I give Your Majesties an unyielding connection,” She proclaims and holds your hands harder. 

Your mind swirls with thoughts. What does she mean by an unyielding connection? You look at Morpheus from under your eyelashes only to see that he’s already looking at you. If you were going to be completely honest, you did not want to consummate the marriage tonight. You would be lying, again, if you were to say you weren’t physically attracted to him, but the issue lies with one thing: you don’t know him.

Morpheus seethes quietly at the Mother’s gift. He didn’t choose to love you and yet here he was, about to be forever connected to you even more. He hates how innocent you look at him through your eyelashes, how he can see each detail of your eyes, and the softness of your lips. He hates how he can’t stop himself from traveling his eyes lower to swipe across your protruding collarbones or how your bosom rises and falls with your breath, only more obvious due to your corset. 

The two of you stare down each other, both with reasons unknown to the other as the Mother finishes her wish. Both of you not noticing the way the wedding bands glow in gold with new engravings swirling into the metal. When the Mother steps away, both of you pull your hands away at the same time, and go back to standing side to side instead of facing each other, content with ignoring each other. 

“One more gift, then back to awkward silence,” You think to yourself. Though you don’t prefer it, you much prefer to make good conversation, but anything is better than this. 

As the Mother returns in line, the last, the eldest comes forth on legs that have walked centuries before you were born. She, like her sister-self before her, holds out her hands, palms facing upwards as a string of light crawls out of the center of her palm. With her other hand, she plucks it with a sharp tug and holds the glowing string between her fingers. 

“From the Crone, I give Your Majesties a string of hope,” She explains. She fingers tug again and separate the strings.

When they let go, they are autonomous and float on their own, binding themselves around your right wrist. A hiss escapes you as an acute hot flash encircles your skin where the string comes in contact with. When the glowing resides, a woven bracelet of red and a single entanglement of black rests easy on your skin. The string has no beginning nor end and wears snuggly on your wrist. It is rigid, despite looking as if made from soft cotton, and you’re sure that even if you cut off your wrist, it would not yield. You peak over at Morpheus again, taking note of his matching set of woven black and a single entanglement of red. It is the same as yours, down to the material, design, and pattern but only reverse in color. 

“Thank you, my fair Ladies,” You express with a small smile, placing your hands back into position in front of you. Your stomach growled again, though very faint, and wished to go back to eating. However, the Lady Fates have yet to leave from their position. Morpheus was standing as still as ever, but from your position, you could tell even he was starting to get antsy from how his middle twitched against his pant leg. 

“Of course, my dear!” The Maiden spoke. 

“Each of our gifts will come to fruition in due time.” The Mother continues. 

“Now, we ask you to share a dance for our enjoyment.” The Crone finishes. 

“A dance, what a wonderful idea!” The Maiden agrees quickly. She grabs her sisterselves and stand off to the side. 

Your heart jumps in your chest with happy flutters and tapping feet but you soothe it quickly. Judging by Morpheus’ character, it would more likely be true that he doesn’t enjoy something like dancing. That isn’t to say he can’t dance, a man of his standing surely would know how. 

“We do not-” Your words die in  your mouth as he bows to you with an extended hand. 

“Shall we take to the floor, my lady?” He invites. 

His eyes don’t meet yours and you’re skeptical but with the Lady Fates staring intensely at the two of you, you feel obliged to take his hand even if you didn’t want to force him to do something he didn’t want to do. 

Hand in hand, he leads you to the center of the empty dance floor, the marble floor recently polished for the special occasion. The falls into a hush as the two of you bow to each other one more time before coming together in an embrace. His cologne embraces you again and this time you’re able to pick out the smell of licorice past the smell of earth and sand. A bitter sweetness. 

The music swells in a classic waltz and Morpheus leads you easily. Your feet dance as it always had, feeling the pressure on the balls of your feet as the two of you glide across the floor. But, there was something lacking in the dance between you and your new husband. The dance was stiff, even if he did lead effectively. There was nothing between the two of you, no passion, no soul.

It wouldn’t be a lie if you said you wished there was something more between the two of you. You’re no stranger to arranged marriages, your mother and father being a prime example of such and even they eventually grew to love one another, in their own ways. The way his hand grasped yours gently and how perfectly he took control over the dance were qualities that you liked and perhaps, in time, you would find more things to love about him. For now, these small things could be enough. 

“Who were those Ladies that we spoke to earlier?” You ask, hoping to fill in the awkward silence. The conversation is hush and barely audible above the draw of string across the instrument. If nothing, the audience will think the two of you were sharing a lover’s conversation. 

“The Lady Fates, sisters,” Morpheus explains curtly and his fingers grip yours tighter unconsciously. “Do not make them cross, they are wiser beyond their years and believe me when I say that they are older than they look.”

“Even the youngest?” You ask, the warning barely scraping over your head. 

“Yes.” 

Another swell of the music from the orchestra and from the corner of your mind you see your mother and father taking to the dance floor as well, but the observation is easily lost as Morpheus spins you around, abruptly. He grabs you again as you come back to him, gently repositioning his hand on your waist and yours on his shoulder as the dance continues. The spin was completely impromptu, you know only because of how often you’ve practiced this dance. You couldn’t help the first real smile of the night from appearing on your face as you felt the wind between your faces and how the fabric of your dress swept across your ankles. 

“Do you like to dance?” He breaks to silence this time. 

“Yes,” You practically beam into him, the single spin able to loosen you. “It is one of my favorite activities. And what of you, my lord?” 

“I am indifferent to it,” He answers lightly as he spins you again. 

“I see.” You say back, your voice dipped lightly in disappointment. “Did you only dance because the Lady Fates asked you to?” You ask, even though you’re sure to know the answer. 

“Yes.” Morpheus takes a moment to answer, his mind seemingly elsewhere as his eyes look over your head. 

More and more couples join the two of you as the waltz continues but as the dance continues, the more distracted Morpheus seems to be, on one occasion stepping on your toes, marking the white shoes in a partial black footprint. 

“My apologies, I am… distracted,” He says, but his eyes are still looking over your head. 

You turn your head around to try and figure out what exactly he was occupying his occasion but with the several new bodies that accompanied the two of you on the dance floor, it was hard to make out what specifics he was looking at. 

The dance ends soon after with a final bow to the other. He excuses himself and leaves you on the dance floor, alone, breath unsteady from the dance or something else you’re not entirely sure. You hold your breath for a few seconds, willing yourself to breathe easier. A new dance started and you’re quick to make yourself sparse as couples start swirling around you. Your vision blurs the color of multiple ballgowns as you’re desperate to find some fresh air, and hopefully also somewhere away from prying eyes. 

You find salvation at the corner of an open balcony, only accompanied by potted flowers. The chatter of the party is all but background noise now, separated by paned doors and the light from the ballroom gave you enough to know where you were stepping. The cooler breeze for the night was refreshing against your flushed skin as you leaned against the stone railing. You breathe in deep and smell the distant sea, calming yourself down further. 

There were other couples on the wrap around balcony and they, much to your relief, left you alone. Rather they were more entranced by their own conversations to notice your slowly growing dismay. A strong gust of wind makes you take a few steps back to lean against the corner wall, resting your head against the rough stone and away from the incoming gale. 

“Calliope, please,” A familiar voice brings you out of your thoughts. It doesn’t take long for you to figure it to be Morpheus. 

“No, Morpheus. You need to listen to me.” Comes a voice you don’t recognize, a feminine voice. 

Your thoughts race yet again, is this why Morpheus was so distracted during the dance? Is it also the reason why he abandoned you on that dance floor? 

“Please,” He begs again. Begs. “You must know I didn’t choose her. I don’t love her, I love you, please.” He gasps desperately, his voice on the edge of a whisper. 

A long silence follows as the other woman simply sighs. The silence was too long, it felt more like a rope wrapping itself around your neck, taking away your breath and your ability to think clearly. How ironic it is that you come out here to seek some fresh air, yet instead you find yourself stumbling back into the ballroom on the brink of tears. 

Once again, everyone else was enjoying their time to pay too much attention to you. Slowly, you creep back into your seat at the lover’s table as you alternate between trying to calm your breath and forgetting to breathe in general. The corset around your ribs could not feel anymore tighter. 

The food at the table has long since gone cold, your appetite leaving with it. Your eyes haven’t left the door you came from, the night air wisping through the thin curtains. With shaking hands you reach for the red wine and take several large drinks from it. The sweet taste goes smoothly down your throat, but it’s bitter aftertaste feels like acid and vomit on your tongue. 

Slowly, the guests meander out the large doors of the venue. Still, you sit alone as you watch them go, their high spirits still intact as they continue their conversations outside. A flash of black is followed by soft pink and gold from the paned doors you have been so adamantly staring at. One, you noticed immediately by the way his cold mercury eyes find yours easily. Your fingers roll the thin neck of the wine glass slowly as he comes ever closer to his seat. 

The owner of soft pink and gold walks the other direction and joins the crowd of awaiting guests outside. You catch a glimpse of her brown hair and brown eyes as she looks at you over her shoulder. Her eyes seem to soften when they realize that you were already looking at her, but otherwise she does nothing. A footman dressed in the kingdom’s midnight blue and silver color hands her a small basket of shimmering stardust before she fully disappears with similar guests. 

When Morpheus arrives at the table, most of the guests are now waiting outside. He doesn’t sit, instead stands by his chair and goes to grab at his wine as well. Unlike you, he takes his time sipping it. A frown sits heavy on his face as he ponders. It doesn’t last long. 

“Let us depart,” He says as he places the wine down on the clothed table. It wasn't an invitation nor a question, simply a statement that he expects to be followed. It takes a moment for you to recognize what he was asking of you.

You only nod as it catches up with you. You drink the final bits of your wine, knowing it won’t be enough to make you forget the events of tonight. But you hope anyway.

Morpheus extends an arm and you grab on with hesitancy. It was just the two of you now, walking across the venue in the aftermath of what was supposed to be a romantic dream. The candles still glowed and draped everything in a soft glow, plates and glasses were empty with crumbs left in its place, messy napkins and a few stolen centerpieces. Everything to state that the wedding was a success.

You should feel proud, excited, anything positive in this moment! You should be brimming over the top with happiness, it is your wedding day, after all. Instead, all that is left is the nauseating feeling of betrayal that you didn’t feel like you had the right to experience. 

When the doors open and you step out into the night air, cheer erupts and the sound of glittering stardust falls from the hands of friends, family, and the court. The particles stick to every surface of your body, making your hair, skin, and clothes shimmer with every movement. Fireworks soon join in on the celebration and the cheers grow louder. Easily impressed, a smile breaks out on your face once again that evening as you watch the flashing of colorful lights above you. If you cannot find happiness, then you shall borrow it from the people around you until you can. Tonight, you shall bask in the moonlight of the abundant joy around you, the sound of applause and fireworks too loud for you to remember why you were so melancholy in the first place. 

Even with the uneasy conversation Morpheus shared earlier with Calliope, his breath was taken away as he looked at you entering the carriage. You looked like the very night sky, like a star or angel fallen from heaven itself. You looked like the Goddess Venus reborn. When you smile at him from the seat above, even he can’t deny your beauty. 

But. 

He stops himself again. Right, this isn’t him thinking that you’re beautiful and perfect. It’s because the Gods created you for him specifically. He didn’t get a choice in choosing you. He doesn’t love you. His sentiments drop quickly and he joins you in the carriage quietly. He watches carefully as you lean out of the carriage window as your mother comes up to you. She whispers something into your ear, your smile faltering slightly as you sit back down. 

The rest of the carriage ride was stewed in yet another awkward silence. The booming sound of fireworks slowly faded as the two of you rode further from the wedding venue. Now only the sound of horse hooves accompanied you in the confining box. You peek again at Morpheus, but he seemed content with looking out the window. The moonlight that sneaks in through the window curtain helps highlight his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. He looked as eternal as he presented himself. It drives a further wedge between the two of you, his status seemingly too far for you to reach. 

The ride to the palace was shorter than you expected and the carriage soon came to a halt. Morpheus leaves first then helps you down with a steady hand. Your attention is completely immersed in the grandeur of the palace. Large, lifelike statues decorate every wall, surrounded by balconies of ivory and stone. Its dome-like structure covered in glass and bronze made your jaw slack in shock. You’ve seen the castle from a distance all the time from your own estate, but seeing it as you walk up the staircase was a different experience altogether. 

A dragon perches right before the door moves and glares at you with a small roar making you jump in your skin. Morpheus places a small hand on the small of your back, ushering you into the castle without much of a blink of his eyes. 

“Don’t mind her, she simply likes to mess with the people that come through,” He comments. 

You don’t bother with a response as you continue to look at the dragon. Walking further up the stairs, the doors open on their own and you’re greeted with grand chandeliers and a large red carpet that runs all the way down the hall before splitting into two separate wings. Arches accompany the high ceilings and walls and made for easy and pleasurable viewing. But the viewing was cut short as almost immediately maids in matching uniforms curtsied in front of you. 

You didn’t get a word out before they started ushering you away into the east wing. Similarly, Morpheus was rushed into the west wing, though he didn’t seem to make much of a fuss either. It was eerily quiet, not even footsteps were heard over the plush carpet. It doesn’t take long for you to arrive at what you presumed to be your room. The idea only solidified with the grand review of a large bedroom, and your previously packed items already put away. 

“Your Majesty, I am your Lady’s Maid. Please, we are already running behind.” A woman of your age says with a curtsy.

Her outfit fit the similar midnight blue and silver of the royal court, but certainly held more detail in the fabrics. She also held herself with a higher esteem than that of the other lesser maids that escorted you here. You’re ushered to a vanity as women flutter around you once again. They don’t falter even when you try to show your displeasement as they stripped you of your wedding gown and under garments. 

You Lady’s Maid watches from a distance, delegating tasks to her subordinates as they prep you for the night. They have you step into a simple silk dress. It’s thin and doesn’t leave anything to the imagination. When you go to open your mouth again at the choice, your Lady’s Maid simply raises her hand with a shake of her head. The words quickly die in your throat. Lastly, your hair is pulled from it’s formal updo and left as it naturally is, a few stray pieces of stardust falling to the ground as they do so. 

“No, keep the stardust on her skin. It matches her complexion well.” The Lady’s Maid says before another could wipe it away with a wet cloth. Like that, you were ready to be presented to the king once more. The rest of the maids leave the room quickly, all commotion taken with them. 

Your Lady’s Maid is the last to leave, giving you one last look over before heading out. Before she does, you stop with a simple question. “What is your name?”

“Agnes, Your Grace,” She answers truthfully. 

“Thank you, Agnes.”

She nods, gives a final curtsy, and leaves. 

You stay in the silent room for a few more minutes, enjoying the moment to yourself. When you were ready, you peek your head out the door and relief floods over you as no one was in sight. With another look to the other side of the hallway, you leave the comforts of your room. Down the grand stairs once again and up the stairs to the west wing.

You were right to assume that the west wing mimicked the east and found a door similar in decoration to your room. No one was around this hallway either, so it wouldn’t hurt if you found yourself in the wrong room anyways. Well, except maybe your own pride. 

You knock twice, and with shaky hands open the door. There was barely any light coming from the room, and before you committed to it, you peaked in with your head. It certainly looked like Morpheus’s chamber, the only issue is that the person who owned it was not in there. With one last look outside, you walk into the darkness of the room. 

Timidly, you stand by the door, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. A door opens from within the room, and Morpheus emerges from a connected suite. He pauses for a moment when he sees you standing there, but regains formality soon after. Without words, he takes his jacket off, tossing it to the side on a nearby chair that sat in front of a fireplace. 

A blush creeps up your cheeks as he walks closer to you still, and the blush continues to grow down your neck as his hands caress over your face. His touch was gentle but it didn’t stop the way your heart jumped around erratically in your chest. Your mother’s words echo in your mind as he turns away and sits down on his bed. 

“Make him happy,” It said. 

With a deep breath to squash the last of your nerves, you sit next to him. Your uneasiness is still within you, enough to keep you from looking at him outright. 

“Lay down,” He says with a sigh and you do. 

The pillows are softer than the ones you had on your old bed, but the actions that you are about to perform seem to make it futile. As if the pillow was holding your hand gently as he crawls over your shaking body. 

When he comes face to face with you, your eyes look into his eyes for a moment, but the coldness you find in there chases you away. You turn your face. 

Gods, please let this be over quickly. You prayed silently in your head. 

A cold hand cups your cheek and you flinch from the touch. Your fingers dig into the satin sheets below so that you could ground yourself in something else. Your heart is beating loud enough you could feel the pulses in your head and the ravaging drumming in your ears. 

“Make him happy,” You hear your mothers words in your head again and a lone tear escapes you. 

Morpheus notices, the moonlight highlighting the liquid as it slides down your cheek and he pulls away. He would have consummated this marriage as it was his duty. But seeing you now, trembling like a scared animal beneath him, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

“Do you wish to be touched?” He asks. He pulls his hands away and sits back up, unstraddling your legs as he returns to where he was before the two of you laid down. 

Your eyes snap open at his question. It was simply something you didn’t expect him to ask. Slowly, you too sit up and see him looking at you with near teary eyes. You stay quiet as you battle yourself for answering his question. Your mother’s presence is strong, even when she miles away. 

“Answer truthfully,” He says again and he faces you head on as he says so. A finger of his twitches on his leg as he rests them there, but he restrains from touching you. 

In the company of moonlight and the bare witness of the King, you do as you’re told and answer him truthfully. 

“No,” You whisper plainly. You’re playing with the edges of your nightgown, rolling the fabric in on itself as you speak. 

Morpheus’ eyes soften at your answer. Content even as you found the will to speak to him without the fear of being reprimanded by your King. It is just as he always wanted since you first spoke with him during the reception. 

“Very well, then we shall not consummate tonight.” He stands and your eyes follow him as he walks away from the bed. 

“Is it not our responsibility to do so?” You ask timidly. You feel the pain of something lodged in your throat as more tears threaten to spill. You were already a disappointment and the day wasn’t even over yet. 

“I will not take you, or anyone, against their will. I am no monster.”

His outright truth snaps your head towards his, only his outline visible in the low-light atmosphere of his room. 

“And,” He continues. “I will not take you until you are ready to do so. Have a good night, my lady.” A curt bow of his head and he leaves the same way you entered.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Prologue ⇆ Next

Sorry I've been gone for so long you guys! Final season is upon us and I feel that gap where there is no inspiration to write anything also taking over me... Oh well, it's not the end of the world :)

In the meantime, I'm going to be rearranging my main masterlist so it's easier to navigate

Thank you, as always, for your amazing support!

Until the next time my loves

♡ Yours, Layla

[ilguna]

☼ clueless (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; with the help of his ex-girlfriend, Finnick realizes that the girl he's been wanting has been the one supporting him.

warnings; swearing,

wc; 1.9k

–

You’ve been friends with Finnick for over a decade now, long before he went into the Hunger Games. However, you’ve never quite seen him go through so many girlfriends in such a short span of time.

You two were next door neighbors in high school, making it impossible to escape him, not that you ever did. You’d hang out during school, and then go right home to do the same thing. And even with all the obstacles that were put in the way, and the time that’s passed, not a single thing has changed between you two. 

While he still goes out of his way to make time for you, considering you to be his best friend. You would drop everything and run, if he asked you to. You know everything there is to know about him, including the details you’d prefer to never hear, and the secrets that he would never tell his girlfriends but wouldn’t dare to hide it from you.

So watching him do this—burn through girl after girl—isn’t him. Finnick’s always been the person that looks for long-term relationships because he would rather settle down than hop from one girl to another. He’s not the image that the Capitol has forced on him. Finnick doesn’t want to be a casanova.

In fact, in the past, you’ve seen him break up with girls solely for the fact that they weren’t looking for anything serious yet, and he wasn’t going to go out of his way to change their minds. Finnick wants a girl that’s ready to spend the rest of their life with him, and will fight to stay together rather than let it fizzle out.

It doesn’t feel that way anymore.

Finnick’s always had a specific type when it comes to girls, but lately it’s been all over the place. It doesn’t matter what they look like, what they’re interested in, or what their personality is. It’s about how they make him feel inside. Every single time there’s a new girl, he swears that he likes them, because he gets that butterfly feeling in his stomach.

It was the case with one of the other victors in District Four, too. This time it was Annie Cresta. You’ve seen her at the reapings, she’s got long brown hair, and the typical sea-green eyes that many here seem to have. 

Finnick told you that it was easier to talk to her, because she understood what it was like to win the Hunger Games. She likes to spend time with him, and she could spend the entire day just being around him. She didn’t mind being around you, either, which a lot of his past girlfriends seem to be put-off by.

She was fun to be around, she wanted to do everything he wanted to do, no questions asked. In the times you were invited along, she went out of her way to include you in conversations, and half the time, Finnick would accidentally get shut out because you two were talking the entire time.

For the first time in several months, you thought that Finnick finally found one that he was going to keep. She seemed to follow most of the ideas that his previous long-term relationships had. He swore up and down that she would be the last one, and you believed him.

They lasted three months. Which doesn’t seem like a lot of time, but compared to the one month curse that he’d been a part of for the past year, it really is a feat. The difference between this break up, and the others, is that he was actually fighting hard to stay with Annie.

Finnick didn’t want to break up with her. When he realized that he was losing feelings, he tried going on more dates with her, spending time with her, buying her gifts. He asked you a couple times what he could do to fix it, and you didn’t have an answer for him.

As much as you hoped that he would stay with Annie so that he’d stop coming to you to cry after his break ups, there was a part of you that was rooting for their downfall the entire time. How could you not? You’ve had a crush on him for years, and he still hasn’t developed feelings for you.

You had your own phase where you dated guys to take your mind off of him, but the truth is that no one will ever know you as well as Finnick does. And you don’t want to go through the effort of teaching someone, when Finnick’s right there.

If you’re being honest, you don’t know how many girlfriends you can stand to hear about, meet and be around. If he’s going to end up breaking up with every single one of them, you don’t want to sit through it. You’ve tried to be supportive as long as you can stand it, but Annie might be your breaking point.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Finnick says, rubbing his face.

“Finnick, have you considered taking a break for a while?” You ask.

Finnick’s sitting on your front porch steps, watching as you water the garden in front of your house. He stops to look at you, “Take a break from what?”

“In general. You’re stressing yourself out, maybe you need some time to sort of your feelings.” You tell him.

And you’re thinking, maybe if he takes some time away from girls, he’ll think about you and what you said. How you’ve been there at his every call, comforting him, letting him sleep over, taking his mind off of things. You don’t know what else you can do for him. On one hand, you want to stop, because you don’t think you’ve ever been more miserable than you are now, but you know that if you stop, you risk losing his trust altogether.

You’d tell him how you feel about him, if it weren’t for the fact that you know he’d shut you down. He wouldn’t even bother hearing you out. He needs to be the one that comes to you, that’s the only way you’d stand a chance with dating him.

Finnick lets out a laugh, shaking his head, “Annie doesn’t think so. She says that I’ve already got it sorted out.”

Your face twists, you glance over at him, waiting for him to tell you more. This’ll be the first that you’re hearing that, and they broke up a few days ago. You thought that he unloaded everything on you already.

“What’d she say?” You ask.

“Forget it.” He mutters, “It’s what I told you yesterday.”

“That’s not true, you’re hiding something.” 

“It’s…” He starts, shaking his head. He ends up with his face back in his hands, and you swear that he’s going to start crying again, but he sighs. “She said something before I left that night.”

“Okay…?” You start watering your grass, hoping to bring it back to life. You think that you need to start over entirely and to spread more seed. That’ll give you a fair chance. “Is it about the other girls you dated? I think you told me that she knew about all of them.”

“It’s not that.” He says, you can see that his face is a slight shade of red, “It’s um—more of the fact of a girl I haven’t dated.”

“If you’re not going to spit it out, then forget about it.” You wave your hand, “I’m not going to try to read your mind, Finnick.”

“It’s not that, I’m just trying to figure out how to say it.” He takes a breath, “You know how Annie and I started fighting?”

“Yeah.”

“It was over you.” He admits.

You stop what you’re doing to look at him, and find that he’s watching you. “Did you really break up with Annie over me? You told me it was a mutual agreement.”

“It wasn’t.” He shakes his head, “Annie broke up with me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” You ask, resuming what you were doing, “I mean, that’s nothing new. Half the girls you date end up hating me one way or another, and most of the time it’s cause we’re so close. If that was the case, we could’ve stopped hanging out for a while.”

“It wasn’t for that reason, though. She um…” He clears his throat, “She said that I was comparing her to you too often.”

You squint your eyes at the ground. Why the hell would he do that? “Like, bringing me up in conversation?”

“No.”

You turn off the hose, coiling it up to sit next to your house in a neat pile. You don’t understand what he’s talking about, “I don’t understand.”

“Well, either way, before she made me leave that night, she said, ‘If you wanted a girl like (Y/n) so much, why don’t you just date her?’.” He says.

You take a breath to regulate yourself, because you understand what Annie meant, now. It makes perfect sense with a statement like that, but you’re not entirely sure if Finnick understands. If he was comparing you to her, then that probably means he was insisting for her to act like you in some way.

And if she said that, then that means he’s been thinking about it for almost three days now, deciding if she’s right or not.

You look at him, “Huh.”

“That’s all you have to say?” He asks.

“Well, I mean, it’s a bold statement to make.” You watch him, “But it’s obviously had an impact on you, if you didn’t tell me about it.”

“I was thinking about the other girls I dated and if it applied to them, too.” He tells you.

Oh. You did not think that this was going to be the way things happened.

You make a face, “So?”

“I think Annie’s right.” 

Of course, he’d come to that conclusion, he’s not stupid. You don’t know what you and all those girls had in common. Although, now that you’re thinking about it, it could’ve been anything. It didn’t matter to him , as long as they had some quality of yours, right?

You try to smile, but it doesn’t come out that way, “It’s a shame you don’t like me like that, huh?”

You look away, Finnick lets out a noise, “You knew the entire time, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t. I knew that you were acting funny, because you don’t go through girls like you drink water. It’s not who you are.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” He asks, you can see him stand up from your peripheral.

“What was I supposed to say to you?” You ask him, looking over again, “That I’ve been in love with you for years? You would’ve turned me down.”

“You don’t know that.” He says.

“It took Annie for you to realize that you liked me in the first place.” You point out, “So what now?”

“We take it slow.” He leans against the railing, “If you want to.”

“I want you to take more than just a couple of days to think about it.” You murmur, “I don’t want to be a rebound because you don’t have your shit in order.”

“That sounds fair to me.” He says. Neither of you say anything for a long moment, while he watches you finish cleaning up your garden so that you can go inside. When you’re done, he stops you. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I put you through all of that, and I didn’t think about how you might’ve felt.” 

You place your hand on his shoulder, “I hid my feelings for you on purpose, Finnick. Don’t be sorry.”

[banditthewriter]

The Past - A Halsin fic

This fic is almost 4k words so officially the most I've written in over a year. This has to do with the openness of the relationship with Halsin. As a poly person myself in two very happy relationships, I just wanted to explore a different approach to the relationship in this.

This is mostly angst by the way. Ye be warned. This is also mostly not edited so ye be warned about that too lol

Enjoy!

The day started like any other. Deep in what was now called Thaniel's Realm, as nature started to heal and people started to return to the once cursed lands, everything was just…normal. 

A group of druids had been working on a way to shift the grounds back to normal and close the numerous chasms that had sprung up during the curse. Halsin was often with them as they all pulled their knowledge and power. Nothing had worked yet but they weren't giving up. 

You spent most of your days near what used to be Moonrise Tower. The tower itself had been torn down and repurposed to build housing. Half of it was magic, half was just hard work. Your powers often were completely depleted by time you crawled back to bed, but you never regretted the choice you made to join Halsin.

Most days, the two of you rarely saw each other more than in passing. At least until night fell. No matter what duties called, the two of you always went to bed together. Sometimes neither of you could string a sentence together from exhaustion and could only offer a tired smile before you both collapsed into the very large bed. Sometimes the two of you would tear at each other's clothes in an effort to remind yourselves that you had survived those dark times. And sometimes the two of you would simply curl up together and talk until either you fell asleep or the sun rose once more. 

It was normal for you both. 

The brief break that the reunion offered had been a welcome one. To see your companions and hear how they had thrived after the defeat of the elder brain brought you a sense of wonder and happiness. Being in that camp again felt like a mixture of leaving home and returning home all at once. 

But the reunion was over and the next one was not planned for another six months, so you focused on the present. 

The old House of Healing had been torn down and the new one was being built. You had learned some spells from Shadowheart so while the new House of Healing was being built, you often found yourself in the makeshift healer's hut to offer whatever help you could. Druids and clerics alike worked on the people who came through and you did what you were able to assist them.

It was in that hut that you heard the news.

“Did you see who arrived in the newest wave of people to relocate? The druid Winona.”

The name caught your attention but you didn't look up from the broken arm you were mending as you listened to the two gossiping druids. 

“Winona? Here? I guess that makes sense seeing as how Halsin is here.”

That made your hands pause the ministrations but you quickly went back to work before the wounded man noticed.

“They were together for a decade. Of course she would relocate here. She had to know how much this land meant to him.”

That was why the name was familiar. One night you and Halsin had talked briefly about past loves. You did not have many but with his age, he had had a few. Not just lovers, of which you assumed there were even more, but actual loves that had stirred his heart the way he had said you had. 

Winona had been one of those loves. He had mentioned her, but you tried to wrack your mind about what he had said. 

She was a druid. She had traveled through the grove and had stayed for a while. The two of them had had a deep connection but it had fizzled out.

You weren't sure you would consider a decade to be something that would fizzle out, but what did you know. Halsin was your longest relationship.

The broken arm mended, you went over to the rows of poultices and salves and did a quick count. While you did that, you caught more of the gossip. 

“I heard he wrote to her,” said one of them as she wrapped some gauze around a young woman's arm. “Told her the land was healed and asked her to visit.”

“That makes sense. He should be proud of what he accomplished.”

Your fingers slipped on a jar of salve but it didn't break when it hit the table. You winced as you straightened it, but no one in the room paid you any mind. 

Why should they. It wasn't like you helped heal the lands of the shadowcurse. It wasn't like you defended the portal with all your might while Halsin went to the Shadowfell to retrieve Thaniel. It wasn't like you fought by Halsin's side to convince Oliver to rejoin Thaniel. It wasn't like you fought Ketheric Thorm under Moonrise Tower and then fought the avatar of Myrkul itself. 

A thread of bitterness washed through you. In some places your name was said with reverence. You were considered a hero. Even here in Thaniel's Realm so many people knew that you had fought with all you had to end the curse and heal the land. Hells, Oliver and Thaniel were often seen by your side since you made them feel comfortable and safe. It shouldn't bother you that these two gossiping druids were overlooking your contributions. 

Except that wasn't what the bitterness was tied to. Ordinarily, if you had heard that statement, you wouldn't have batted an eye. Halsin should be proud of all he did to save the lands. You were proud of him. That wasn't the problem. 

The problem was that these druids had erased your contributions in order to make Halsin the hero…for his old love. 

A coldness gripped your insides. A sensation you had believed yourself to be beyond slowly crept up your spine and lodged itself at the back of your skull. 

Jealousy. 

When you and Halsin had gotten together, he had been open with the fact that the relationship you had wasn't actually a relationship at all. The two of you shared love and a life, yes, but it wasn't monogamous. He had told you to share your love with whoever you wanted.

But there wasn't anyone else that you wanted. 

The conversation came to you in waves. He had said his heart didn't stir often but it had stirred for you. That he wanted only you but wanted you to be free to love. 

Later, after the elder brain and the tadpoles were all gone, he had tried to talk you out of joining him to Thaniel's Realm. He suggested you go to the Underdark to help Astarion or Waterdeep to visit Gale or stay in Baldur's Gate to assist in the rebuilding. When you told him that you wanted to help him, wanted to help Thaniel's Realm, he seemed happy to have you join him. 

Now everything was colored in jealousy and insecurity. Perhaps he wanted his freedom from you. Maybe the feelings you had brought out of him were only there because of the intensity of the situation.

Had things been different between the two of you? You didn't think so. There was an easy affection between the two of you. Laughter came easy, as did deep conversations. Both of you poured yourselves into the land and seemed to rejoice together as the land healed. It all seemed so…normal. 

When Halsin had told you that he only wanted you but that he wanted you to be able to love others if you wished, you hadn't said it but you knew that your heart was his and only his. You never looked down on Halsin for being open to others, but perhaps that was because it was just a potential in your mind. Not a guarantee. 

Maybe it was because you assumed that if his heart stirred in the future, it would be someone new. You would feel secure in your place because you would have a past with him. 

Now you were faced with a reality. You were the someone new. Sure, Halsin wasn't with Winona at the time you met him, but they had a past together. History. 

And you knew that history was doomed to repeat itself. 

“Oh, speak of the devils,” came a soft whisper from one of the druids which caused you to snap your head up. 

Halsin was coming down the way with a beautiful woman at his side. He was talking with his hands, gesturing to the building that was being worked on and then the hut that you were in. The woman laughed at something that was said and placed her hand on Halsin's forearm as she made a grand sweeping gesture. It earned a laugh from Halsin in return. 

There was a comfort in the two of them that you could see from this distance. A familiarity. History.

You quietly said the incantation for dimension door and stepped through the blue light. You came out on the other side close to Last Light Inn. As the light faded behind you, you closed your eyes and counted to twenty. Then to fifty. Then to one hundred.

Once your heart was steady, you walked towards the doors of the inn. It was bustling with energy and the girl at the front smiled wide at you when she noticed you.

“Aren't you a sight for sore eyes! What can we do for you?”

You bit your lip as you looked around but you didn't see any of the people who were helping you rebuild the area. It was just people who had relocated to the land once news of the curse breaking had spread. 

“I need a room,” you said quietly.

“Oh of course. We can give you a key now and then give Master Halsin a key when he gets here.”

Because the two of you had stayed there together a few times over the last few months. A way to get away from the responsibilities that hung over you both. 

You didn't have the heart to tell her that Halsin wouldn't be joining you this time. That the reason you were there without any of your belongings was because you couldn't bear the thought of going to the cabin you shared with Halsin and getting them. The mere thought of looking at the bed you shared with the man every night and knowing it would be someone else in there with him made your stomach twist. 

Instead you gave her a small smile and accepted the key. Before you headed upstairs you paid for two bottles of wine and some food to be brought to the room once it was ready. Then you made your way upstairs. 

It was going to be a long night but you didn't plan on sleeping. No, you needed to think.

×

A quill, a pot of ink, and some parchment had been located in one of the dresser drawers in the room you had rented. You balanced a book that had been left from a previous guest on your knees as you tried to write your thoughts down.

The way you saw it, you only had so many options at this point. 

You could tell Halsin you were not comfortable with his being with other people. With either of you being with other people. That was low on your list of options. It didn't seem fair of you to agree to the terms of the relationship at first and then, at the first sight of those terms coming to fruition, to try to negotiate them away. It also wasn't fair to ask Halsin to deny himself. He felt called to that way of life and who were you to ask him to change. 

You could pretend to be okay with it. With Winona or anyone who came later. Perhaps in time you would actually learn to be okay with it and it wouldn't always be pretend. That option wasn't the best but it was better than trying to force Halsin to do something he didn't want to. 

The last option you could think of was to leave. To admit to Halsin that you could not live the way he lived and love the way he loves. Your heart was his but you realized that perhaps you were not okay with sharing his heart with others. That option hurt to think about, but it made the most sense. 

You would miss Halsin if you left. You would miss the people here, miss the land. These months of you pouring your magic and heart and soul into the lands made you feel like you had found home, but you couldn't imagine staying if things ended with Halsin. 

Somewhere between the first and second bottle of wine, you tried to write a letter to Halsin to explain your thoughts and motives to leave. You owed him an explanation but you weren't sure you could give it to him in person. If you had to look at his understanding face and tell him that you couldn't stand to share him when that is what he had offered to start with…

It would break your heart all over again. 

X

There was a dip in the mattress. You frowned as you rolled toward it a bit, smacking your lips to clear up some of the cotton mouth from the wine. You must have fallen asleep. 

How long had you slept? 

Your eyes opened and you looked over to the window. No light so it was still night time. As you started to yawn and stretch, your hand smacked into something warm and hard.

The distance between where your eyes were looking and where your hand had hit wasn't very far but it felt like it took years for you to turn and see what was beside you. 

Halsin sat in the bed, his casual clothes on instead of his usual druid garb. He was even positioned in the middle of the bed which explained the dip in the mattress. 

Just as you started to ask how long he had been there, or how he knew you were there to begin with, you noticed what was in his hands. The multiple pieces of parchment that bore your scrawled thoughts and emotions. On top was the letter you had started to compose before you had passed out.

“I…”

“Your penmanship while inebriated is to be commended. I can read every word as clearly as if you had spoken them.”

Your eyes shut. Slowly you pulled yourself into a seated position. You had tossed off your robes at some point so you were just in your underwear. Although he had seen you in far less, you gave in to the urge to tug the blanket up a bit to cover yourself. 

He noticed. His eyes barely flicked over to you before he looked back at the letter.

“This letter sounds a lot like you weren't even going to face me before you left me.”

The burn in your stomach might have been the alcohol or it might have been shame.

“I thought it would be easier…”

“Easier for you to just disappear? For me to not know where you are, if you're safe? To not give me the courtesy of an explanation in person?”

Fists clenched and eyes wide despite the tears gathering, you nodded stiffly.

“If I had to go to the cottage and see…you with…I couldn't handle that. And I would be fine on my own, I've done it before.”

Halsin tossed the papers to the floor as he stood up and crossed the room. He stared out of the window for a moment before he shook his head.

“You think that I would bring someone else into the bed I share with you? That I would dishonor you that way.”

You blinked away a few tears and took the reprieve from his attention to grab your robe. It took a few tries to get it on and you knew the buttons were beyond hope but this way you felt a bit more like yourself. 

It hadn't occurred to you that Halsin wouldn’t bring Winona, or anyone else for that matter, to the cottage. You expected he would since that was his home too. Instead he would have to take them either to a campsite in the woods or…

Your throat closed up as you looked to the door of the room you were in. Had he come to the inn and when he asked for a room, the girl told him that you were here?

“I think I'm going to be sick.”

It wasn't just the idea that he had come here to be with Winona. Honestly it was the boiling emotions and anxiety and alcohol. You leaned over and put your head between your knees and tried to breathe.

“In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slowly.”

A caring, gentle hand pressed between your shoulder blades. You took a few deep breaths the way he coached you until you felt a bit more calm.

“I brought Winona to the hut to meet you. The druids there said you had dimension doored away. When you weren't at the cottage, I could only think that you might have come here. Though I could not fathom why until…”

Until he came into the room, saw you drunkenly passed out, and read the papers you'd left strewn about the bed where you declared yourself unable to share him the way he needed.

The reality came crashing back to you. Whether or not he had come here with Winona, whether or not the two of them were going to rekindle their love, this was inevitable. You could no more share Halsin with someone else than you could live with your heart outside of your body.

When you sat up, Halsin slowly moved to sit beside you. You turned your head so as not to be looking at him, but it brought your eyes to the window he had peered out of before. The sky was dark but there was a hint of light. And you could see the edge of the area where he had created the portal to go to the Shadowfell to save Thaniel. 

“I really thought I could do it. I thought that nothing else would matter as long as I knew I had you. That whatever came after that, whoever came after that, it would be enough that I had part of you. But this…hearing about Winona and your decade long love affair and you writing to her to come see what you've accomplished, I realized that I can't do it. I can't be okay with sharing you. I can't lie with you and hear you call me sweet names and know that you use those same names with someone else. That your hands, your lips, will be on them. That while you take up the whole of my heart, I will never take up the whole of yours.” 

You sniffled as you realized you were saying everything you had written down and then some. But there were things you didn't get to write down and you needed to say those as well. 

“I would never ask you to change for me. I would never ask you to give up your happiness for mine. But I also cannot ask myself to sacrifice my heart and watch you be with someone else. That is why the only option is for me to leave. To let you find love the way you need and for me to…well. To try to get over you.”

Halsin didn't speak. His eyes held a wealth of emotion but none were so easy to grasp. While you never had a mental connection with Halsin like you did with your tadpoled companions, you still thought you had a good grasp on reading his emotions. Now you felt like you were meeting him for the first time all over again. 

Less goblins this time at least. 

“One of the things that always pulled me towards nature is the fact that nature is adaptable and fluid. It grows and changes with time. What is constant now may not be constant in the future.”

The hollow feeling in your stomach widened. 

“If that is your way of saying that I'll get over you or you'll get over me or that this was only temporary, I'll–”

“I would never belittle our connection as such. Our connection is more than words. Like nature it has grown and changed with time, but not in the way that it has decreased.” Halsin inhaled deeply and reached out for your hands. “I once mentioned the hope that we would grow roots together and I believe I was prophetic. More than healing these lands, we have built roots in ourselves. My love for you has grown roots to the core of my being. There is no part of me that is not consumed by you, by us.”

Emotions threatened to claw your throat out but you swallowed them down. You needed to be in control, be aware. 

“What are you saying Halsin?”

“I asked Winona to come here to help with the lands because she is an accomplished druid, yes, but also because she is an Archdruid and I wanted her to perform a bonding ceremony for you and I.”

The inn could have exploded and you weren't sure you would have noticed. Although not a druid yourself, you had bore witness to a bonding ceremony in your time since the elder brain. It was the druid’s form of marriage, something that signified their love and commitment to each other in front of their kin and Silvanus. 

“A bonding…but. Bears.”

You were beyond sentences but you got the words out and hoped he understood. 

“Yes, bears,” he replied with a laugh. “It is not their nature to mate for life but despite my connection to them through nature itself, I am not a bear.”

You chuckled a bit and looked down at his large hands wrapped around yours. 

“If nature is fluid and you have turned to this view, you could still turn back. I think that would hurt worse.”

To have him to yourself only to lose him? It would destroy you in a way you did not think you couldn't recover from.

One of his hands went to your chin to tilt your face up so that he could meet your eyes. 

“I would not entertain the idea of a bonding ceremony if I did not know I was capable of committing. More than capable, it is what I want. I hesitated to bring it up to you because of the way our relationship started. I wasn't sure if the openness was something you wanted.”

You blinked away a few tears as you pondered that. The idea that Halsin had been uncertain and hesitant to bring something of this magnitude up to you was surprising, but perhaps it shouldn't have been. Just because of his size and age and general aura, didn't mean he was impenetrable.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I was hoping you would ask. Please, my heart,” he replied as he gently pulled you in for a kiss.

The future was uncertain in many ways but you were at least certain that you would have Halsin with you. With that, you could do anything.

“We should…I’d like to meet Winona.”

Halsin laughed and pulled you in for another kiss.

“And so you shall, but not tonight. Tonight we have this room together and we are going to take that time to commit ourselves to each other once more.”

You had nothing to add except a large smile as you tugged him down on top of you.