Shared Apartment, Shared Feelings
Leon Kennedy x gn afab!reader
CW: 18+ (mdni), virgin reader, college roommate au, retired fuckboy!leon, vendetta trio (chris, leon & rebecca), talks about virginity/relationship/trauma (car accident), fluff/angst/smut, a lot of kissing, dick piercing, oral job (afab receiving), pussy slapping, thigh jobs, aftercare.
Words: 7.4k
A/N: special thanks to my wife @roseglazedlens for beta reading and helping me with the banners <3 muah muah
Without a doubt, college is such a drag. It’s a wonder you haven’t given up on yourself already, with all the assignments piling up, submissions one after another, professors breathing down your neck, dealing with crappy groupmates and customers from your part-time job. But here you are, almost three years deep into your degree, with no turning back now.
You sighed, feeling the strain in your fingers from typing away all day. The pressure was real with an assignment due in just a few days. You tried to unwind with a book and music, but the impending thought of reading through another paragraph might just make your head explode.
It’s been known that college can get pretty lonely at times. Sure, you've got friends here and there, but they're all caught up in their own stuff, on top of all that, their partners. This is when you wish you had one yourself. You've had your fair share of relationships or flings in the past, but it never really went beyond first base – blame it on your commitment issues and insecurities.
Virginity is a funny thing, isn't it? Some people don't really give it much thought, while others, like yourself, see it as a significant part of who they are. To you, it's more than just a physical state – it's about vulnerability, about letting someone in and truly being seen. Maybe that's why your relationships never seem to last long. You realise now that you settled for them, not for yourself. You were caught up in the idea of a relationship rather than being honest with yourself about what you truly wanted and needed.
Heading into college, you finally found yourself crushing on someone – your roommate, Leon Kennedy. Your first meeting was awkward, to say the least. It started with your classmate-turned-friend, Rebecca Chambers, asking if you wanted to live with her and two of her friends since they had an extra room. Without hesitation, you agreed – after all, why not? Splitting the rent between four people and having a bigger apartment than your current one sounded like a win-win. But when you finally met her two friends, it felt like you stumbled upon an adorable squirrel with her two guard dogs.
You could definitely say that Leon and his other friend, Chris Redfield, were pretty protective of her, but Rebecca reassured them that she trusted you and thought you were a lovely person – bless her heart. From that day on, the tension slowly dissipated, and all of you learned how to live with each other, quirks and all. If there was ever a disagreement, Chris would call for a 'family meeting' to sort things out.
You've grown close to both Chris and Rebecca, but with Leon, it's different. He's close, yet there's still a sense of distance.
—
Exhibit A:
The huge, comfortable couch in the living room was decorated with a mismatched assortment of decorative pillows, giving the area a homely, well-worn feel. The walls were covered in posters of bands, and a shelf next to it held a tidy collection of DVDs. Game controllers, remote controls, and empty food wrappers were frequently strewn all over the coffee table – no matter how many times Rebecca told Chris and Leon to clean them up. The room had the ideal ambience for movie evenings thanks to the floor lamp's warm glow and the fairy lights.
You noticed that Leon would always have your favourite snacks on hand, without you even needing to ask. But then again, he made sure to get snacks for everyone else too. You never once mentioned your favourite snacks to him – you guess he might have overheard you talking to Rebecca in the dining area while he was playing video games with Chris in the living room that one time.
"Here," Leon said, passing you the brightly wrapped package after doling out snacks to the others.
“Thanks,” you said, taking them from Leon. “How did you know these are my favourites?”
He shrugged casually. “Maybe I'm just good at picking up on things.”
"But I've never told you," you pointed out, genuinely curious.
Leon hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting yours. "I've got my ways of finding out,” he replied cryptically before turning away to grab a drink.
You raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by his response. “Oh, well, thanks again.”
"Oh my god! It's been so long since I've eaten those," Rebecca, who was cuddled up next to you, exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she gazed at your snacks. You chuckled at her enthusiasm.
"You want some?" you offered, opening the snack package.
"Yes, please!" she eagerly replied.
If you had turned back, you would have noticed Leon's ears turning a faint shade of red, but you were too focused on sharing the snacks with Rebecca to notice his reaction.
Exhibit B:
Amidst the chaos of exam week, you and Chris had taken over the living room for a study session. Notes, textbooks, and Post-it notes were strewn everywhere, creating a cluttered workspace. Rebecca had wisely chosen to isolate herself in her room, knowing that if she joined you two, it would devolve into gossip rather than studying. As for Leon, he preferred the solitude of studying alone.
By 2 am, Chris had already succumbed to exhaustion, snoring away on the couch. Meanwhile, you were hunched over your notes on the floor, frustration building as you re-read the material for what felt like the hundredth time. A headache was starting to form, exacerbated by the late hour and Chris' snoring.
Lost in your work, you didn't notice Leon's quiet approach until he set a hot mug of green tea on the coffee table beside you. "Take a break," he said casually, before moving over to Chris and gently nudging him awake, signaling that it was time for him to call it a night.
"Hey, wake up," Leon whispered.
Chris grunted in response, rolling over to his side and snoring loudly. Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes and deliver a – gentle – punch to Chris's arm, hoping it would be enough to jolt him awake.
"Ouch! Damn, Leon, that hurts," Chris groaned, rubbing his arm where Leon had punched him.
Leon, unapologetic, raised an eyebrow at Chris. "Maybe if you didn't snore like a freight train, I wouldn't have to resort to violence."
Chris, still rubbing his arm, shot you a playful glare. "Well, if someone didn't study so quietly, maybe I wouldn't need to fill the room with my soothing snores."
"Don't look at me, I'm just trying to study peacefully," you retorted, raising your hand in mock surrender while cradling the mug in your other.
"Yeah, right. Your snores are like lullabies, Chris. I almost fell asleep while making my late-night snack,” Leon said with a slight smirk.
Chris mockingly gasped. "You wound me, Leon. My snores are an art form."
You chuckled. "Well, gentlemen, whether it's an art form or a lullaby, it's time for the masterpiece to take a break. Chris, go get some beauty sleep." Chris nodded.
"You too, don't stay up too late," Leon said to you, shooting a glance in your direction before grabbing Chris by his shirt.
"I'm up, I'm up," Chris protested, his voice muffled as Leon playfully put him in a headlock and guided him towards his room.
You couldn't help but chuckle at their antics, taking another sip of your tea as you watched them disappear down the hallway.
—
You found yourself in a dilemma. Leon had always been just a friend, but lately, you couldn't shake off the growing attraction you felt towards him. It wasn't just his physical appearance that drew you in, although his blue eyes, his piercings and the little details about him were certainly captivating. It was the way he was always there for you, that’s what friends are for, right?
You discovered that you couldn't stop thinking about him, day or night. His presence seemed to linger in your mind, occupying your thoughts even when you were supposed to be focusing on something else. You couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his video game strategies or the way he would absentmindedly run his hand through his hair when he was deep in thought. And those moles scattered across his skin, you found yourself itching to trace your fingers over them, to memorise every little detail of him.
But despite your growing feelings, you were hesitant to act on them. You cherished the ‘friendship’ you shared with Leon and you were afraid of risking it by admitting your true feelings. So for now, you kept your emotions buried deep within, hoping that they would eventually fade away – but they didn’t.
—
Leon had been sceptical when Rebecca first introduced you to him and Chris. He thought you might have ulterior motives, using her to get closer to him for his body. After all, he had a reputation as a fuckboy, although he considered himself a retired one now. That's why both him and Chris were so protective of her; he didn't want to drag Rebecca into his messy past again.
However, Leon was genuinely surprised when he discovered that you didn't know much about his past. While you were aware of his existence, you weren't deeply immersed in campus drama, preferring to spend your time online with other interests. You treated him like any other person, and he found himself grateful for that. In the past, he had been the worst version of himself, indulging in alcohol, weed, and sex, using his body to get whatever he wanted. But hey, in this economy, whatever works.
He had grown accustomed to people using him, whether it was for physical gratification or emotional support. It was the darkest chapter of his history, and his once-close friendship with Chris and Rebecca had deteriorated to the point where they were practically strangers, but that was six months ago. Now they were back to being three peas in a pod, their bond stronger than ever.
Then came that one fateful night – that one awful night – when he had drunk too much and made the reckless decision to drive home while intoxicated from a party. What great friends he had.
As Leon stirred awake in the hospital room, the rhythmic beeping of machines punctured the air, accompanied by the clinical scent of antiseptic. His gaze fell upon Rebecca, slumbering peacefully in a chair beside his bed, though the fatigue evident in the bags beneath her eyes spoke of restless nights spent by his side. Summoning what little strength he could muster, he attempted to rouse her with a feeble movement of his finger.
Suddenly, Chris burst into the room, bearing two cups of coffee in hand. The sight of Leon awake nearly caused him to fumble the cups, hastily setting them down on a nearby table before rushing to his friend's bedside with evident concern. Rebecca, startled by Chris's sudden entrance and booming voice, blinked awake in a daze.
“Leon, you’re awake!” Rebecca's smile lit up the room as she clasped Leon's uninjured hand in hers.
Leon attempted to speak, but his dry throat betrayed him. Swift to notice, Chris quickly retrieved a water bottle and a straw for Leon. While Rebecca, with practised ease adjusted the bed to a more comfortable position, allowing Leon to sit up slightly. As soon as the straw touched his lips, Leon didn't hesitate to take a much-needed sip, the cool water soothing his parched throat.
Once he had quenched his thirst, Leon managed a weak smile of gratitude, his gaze shifting between Chris and Rebecca. "Thanks, guys," he murmured hoarsely, his voice still rough from disuse.
"Was anyone else hurt?” he asked anxiously, recalling the events of the previous night with a sense of dread. He knew he had made a terrible mistake by driving under the influence, and he dreaded the thought of anyone else being harmed because of his actions.
Chris exchanged a glance with Rebecca before answering, his expression sombre. "It was just you, Leon," he replied gently, placing a comforting hand on Leon's shoulder. "You're lucky, man. Could've been a lot worse."
Rebecca nodded in agreement, her worry evident in her eyes. "We're just glad you're okay," she added softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
For once in his life, he let his tears flow freely, openly crying in front of them. There were many reasons for his tears, but two stood out: their unwavering support despite his past behaviour and the stark realisation of how close he came to losing everything. It felt like a wake-up call, a sign that he needed to change his ways.
As both Chris and Rebecca leaned in for an embrace, he felt the warmth of their love enveloping him. That moment marked a new beginning for them. They took turns caring for him, offering support and encouragement every step of the way. And with their help, he began to see a therapist to address his trauma and work through his issues, determined to become a better version of himself.
He knew he wasn't perfect, but he was steadily making progress.
—
You were like a breath of fresh air, bringing a sense of normalcy to Leon's life outside his close circle of friends. The more he observed you, the more smitten he became. He found himself falling hard for you, enchanted by the melody of your voice and the way your smile lit up the room. Even when you laughed at his silly jokes while Chris and Rebecca remained unimpressed, it only deepened his infatuation. From your quick wit to your undeniable charm, he felt like a lovesick puppy in your presence.
Many moments with you left a lasting impression on Leon. One night, he had fallen asleep on the couch, and you had just returned from a night shift. Spotting Leon asleep, you crept, careful not to disturb him. You gently placed your belongings on the dining table before quietly slipping into his room to retrieve a blanket.
You returned with the blanket and draped them over him, ensuring he stayed warm throughout the night. As you crouched down beside him, you couldn't resist the urge to tuck a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, smiling softly at the peaceful expression on his sleeping face.
As you quietly left the room and retreated to your own, Leon being the light sleeper he was, felt a rush of emotions flooding through him. His heart raced as he became aware of your proximity, even in his slumber. The gentle touch of your hand and the warmth of your presence lingered in his mind, leaving him feeling strangely comforted yet unsettled all at once. It was a moment he couldn't shake, stirring something within him that he couldn't quite put into words.
These mixed emotions were still present during another memorable moment, when you, Chris, Rebecca, and Leon gathered for a pizza dinner. Chris, in his usual generous fashion, ordered a variety – cheese, pepperoni, and BBQ pizzas. The living room transformed into a makeshift dining area as you all settled in to watch a movie while enjoying the feast. Despite the lively atmosphere, Leon found himself quietly observing you, the feelings from the previous night still lingering in his mind, adding a layer of depth to the otherwise ordinary gathering.
Whatever, he shook his thoughts away.
As the pizza boxes opened, Leon grabbed a slice of the BBQ pizza, only to discover a surplus of onions. His displeasure was evident and despite his efforts to discreetly pick off the offending toppings, the struggle did not go unnoticed by you.
Your laughter bubbled up as you observed Leon's onion-removing antics. "Not a fan of onions, huh?" you teased.
"Nah, I don’t like the extra crunch," Leon replied, continuing to pick them off.
You extended your plate towards him. "Just give them to me; I like onions," you offered with a smile.
"Really? Thanks," Leon responded, handing you the onion-laden slices.
"You need to stop being such a picky eater, Leon," Chris chimed in between bites of his pizza.
Leon shook his head defiantly. "Nope, not happening," he retorted, earning a round of laughter from the group.
Rebecca joined in, adding with a playful grin, "Hey, at least now we know who the real onion lover is around here!"
After your laughter died down, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at Leon – you loved onions, but little did they know that you had a particular disdain for red onions.
Despite all this, Leon couldn't shake the memories that haunted him. Beneath the surface of his laidback demeanour lay a vulnerability he had yet to reveal to anyone outside his close circle of friends.
It was a sunny morning as you and Leon walked side by side to class, chatting idly about your schedules. But then your conversation was abruptly interrupted by the screech of tyres from behind, a sharp, piercing sound that seemed to echo through Leon's bones.
Without warning, Leon's steps faltered, his body freezing in place as his breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened with fear, his muscles tensing as if preparing for impact.
You sensed the shift in his demeanour immediately, instincts kicking in as you turned to face him, concern etched across your features. "Leon?" you called softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "Are you okay?"
"Don't," he said sharply, his voice tinged with a mixture of desperation and frustration. "Please, just... don't touch me."
You froze, your heart sinking at the rejection. You had never seen Leon react like this before, and the realisation only fueled your determination to help him.
"Okay," you said softly, pulling your hand back. "I won't touch you. But I'm here, Leon. You're not alone."
Leon's breaths came in short, ragged gasps, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggled to regain control of his racing thoughts.
Thinking quickly, you searched for another way to reach him. You remembered the breathing exercises you learned from the internet, the rhythmic pattern designed to calm the mind in moments of distress.
"Leon," you said gently, your voice a steady anchor in the storm of his panic. "Listen to me. We're going to try something, okay? Just focus on my voice."
Leon nodded hesitantly, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.
"Close your eyes," you instructed, your own voice calm and measured. "Now, take a deep breath in through your nose... and out through your mouth. Good. Now, let's do it again. In... and out."
Together, both of you repeated the breathing exercises; Leon's tense muscles gradually relaxing with each steady breath. You kept your voice low and soothing, guiding him through the process with gentle encouragement.
The chaotic noise of the campus faded into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your shared breaths. And with each passing moment, Leon felt the grip of panic loosening its hold, replaced by a sense of calm and clarity.
"Thank you," Leon whispered as he finally opened his eyes, his voice hoarse with overwhelming emotions.
"Anytime.” You smiled softly at him.
—
You were attractive, considerate, attentive, but sometimes sarcastic — all the more reason to love you. So imagine his surprise when, during one of your deep conversations, you dropped the bombshell: "I'm still a virgin."
Leon's reaction was immediate. "Wait, what?" His eyes widened in disbelief, and he nearly choked on the iced tea Rebecca had made for everyone.
You couldn't help but smirk at his reaction, finding his surprise somewhat amusing. "Yeah, I know, right?" you replied casually, trying to downplay the moment. "Just never felt the rush, I guess."
Leon's expression softened, his initial shock giving way to an understanding. "Well, that's... unexpected," he admitted, his voice laced with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "But hey, it's your choice, and there's nothing wrong with that."
"Yeah," you said, taking a sip of the iced tea. You couldn't help but grimace as the sweetness hit your taste buds; Rebecca had gone a bit overboard with the sugar again. “I guess, I just have a hard time trusting people to truly see me, you get it?” you said, revealing a vulnerability that Leon hadn't seen before.
“Just the idea of letting someone see a vulnerable side of you and then, things fall apart, and that person is not in your life anymore... it's terrifying."
Leon nodded thoughtfully, the flicker of a reassuring smile appearing on his lips. "I get it," he responded softly, his eyes reflecting understanding.
"It's hard to open up when you've been hurt before. But not everyone is the same, you know? And sometimes, taking that risk can lead to something beautiful."
"Yeah, but I’m not ready to take that risk," you pondered, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
Leon leaned forward, his expression gentle. "That's okay," he said. "It's all about timing, and when you're ready, you'll know. Until then, just focus on being true to yourself." If the old Leon heard this, he would cringe in disgust at how poetic he has become.
“Aw, look at you, Mr. Wise man,” you teased, playfully punching his shoulder.
“Hey, I have experience, okay,” he chuckled, offering a playful wink. "Life's full of surprises, and you never know when the right person might come along." Leon thought to himself, hoping silently that he could be that person for you.
To be your person — it was a dream he cherished deeply. He already felt privileged enough to see you with your dishevelled hair every morning, to enjoy the breakfasts you made, to hear you humming to yourself as you cleaned the apartment, and to witness all the little quirks that made you... you.
Like the way you always insisted on starting your day with a cup of hot warm water because of its health benefits. Or how you had a habit of tapping your fingers on any surface whenever you were anxious. The way you collect little trinkets and gift them to others because they reminded you of them, or how you could never resist stopping to take pictures of the sky when it looked especially pretty. The way you scrunch your nose when you laugh, and how you always double-knot your shoelaces because "you can't be too careful,” even though they somehow always come undone, so he has to tie them for you again — cue to Rebecca and Chris giggling quietly at the back.
“Yeah, who knows?” you replied with a smile, stopping him from his daydreaming state.
Leon looked into your eyes, a gentle warmth spreading through his chest. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you at that moment. Your smiles softened, and a comfortable silence settled between you. Time felt like it slowed down as you both gazed at each other, the unspoken words and hidden shared feelings hanging in the air.
However, the moment was cut short when cock-block Chris slid the balcony doors open, surprising you guys.
"Hey, sorry to interrupt," Chris said, his voice breaking the momentary silence. "But I thought you might want to join us for board games. Rebecca's been bugging me to drag you both inside.”
You chuckled at Chris's interruption. "Sure, sounds like fun," you replied, shooting a playful glance at Leon.
Leon grinned in response, a twinkle in his eye as he nodded in agreement. "Let's go then," he said, rising from his seat and motioning for you to follow.
“Can’t wait to beat you in Monopoly,” you added with a mischievous grin, earning a playful scoff from Leon.
“Dream on,” Leon replied with a playful smirk, grabbing both his and your drink before heading back inside.
“Hey, we know Rebecca is the master of Monopoly,” Chris chimed in.
"Yeah, you’re right, she always bankrupts us within the first hour," you agreed with a laugh.
"Alright, let's see if we can finally overthrow the reigning champion," Leon said with determination, leading the way back inside.
—
You should have been spending your weekend with friends, but alas, the call of assignments beckoned you to spend the week in your room. Your fingers moved on autopilot as you typed away on your laptop, nearing the end of your essay. All that remained were the conclusion and the references.
This was the second time you had to redo this assignment. Your professor, Dr. Wesker, critiqued it during the tutorial, and it fell short of his expectations, so you had to incorporate the points you had missed. You made a mental note to give him three stars in the end-of-semester review – that being generous — and to punch Chris because he said Wesker’s class was easy. No, it was not; Wesker made sure to run the class like the Navy.
As the evening turned into night, you fueled your essay-writing spree with a touch of spite. The anticipation of going to the new jazz bar in your area with your friends was the added motivation. Empty instant coffee cans littered your desk, proving your determination. In the apartment, it was just you and Leon; Chris was visiting his sister, Claire, while Rebecca was out on a date with Billy. Helping Rebecca get ready had only made you more jealous of her evening out. Ever the sweetheart, she noticed you were down and promised to bring back treats for you as a reward.
The apartment felt unusually quiet, with only the hum of your laptop and the distant sounds of city life filtering through the windows. The silence was a stark reminder of the fun you were missing out on. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing Leon was just in the other room, a silent presence that somehow made the tedious task of essay writing a bit more bearable.
However, the universe was not on your side as your old laptop finally decided to give up on you. Despite all your efforts — charging, troubleshooting, and pleading — it refused to turn back on. "No, no, no, no!" you exclaimed, punctuating each word with a frustrated slam of your hand against the desk. Scratch that, Dr. Wesker is getting only one star and a long paragraph in the comment section.
Hearing the commotion from Leon’s bedroom, he paused his game and rushed into your room. "What happened?!" he asked, concern etched on his face.
You looked at him with tears streaming down your face. "My laptop won't open," you said.
His face softened as he approached you. "I'm assuming you've tried everything," he remarked.
"Yes!" you exclaimed, frustration evident in your voice.
"Okay, okay, calm down," Leon reassured you, his tone soothing. "What did you use to do your assignment on?" he inquired, rolling your chair closer to him and kneeling down in front of you.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Google Docs," you replied.
He nodded reassuringly. "Okay, they have an auto-save feature, so your work is still there. In the meantime, you can use mine." Leon wiped away your tears with his thumb. "I know a guy who can fix your laptop, so you don't have to worry."
Leon's comforting touch eased your tension slightly. "Thanks," you said, your voice wavering with emotion. "I'm sorry for lashing out. It's just….it’s been a stressful week."
He offered you a sympathetic smile. "No need to apologise," he said softly. "We all have our moments.”
"You're too good for me," you whispered, your gratitude evident in your eyes.
Leon's sympathetic expression softened further as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Hey, don't say that," he replied earnestly. "You're amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend. And if you ever need someone to talk to or help you through tough times, I'm here for you, always.”
“I could say the same thing about you,” you said softly as you wiped the remaining tears away.
There was a moment of silence, filled only by the sound of the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the soft rhythm of your breathing. Then, you hesitated before speaking again.
"Leon... there's something I've been meaning to tell you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know we're friends, but... lately, I've been feeling something more. I can't shake this feeling that there's something between us, something deeper?"
Leon's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he didn't interrupt as you continued.
"I understand if you don't feel the same way," you said, the words tumbling out in a rush as you fidget with your fingers, feeling vulnerable and exposed. "I just needed to get it off my chest."
For a moment, there was only silence as Leon processed your words. Then, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, stopping you from fidgeting. On the inside, he was literally jumping up and down and screaming internally. His heart raced with excitement and joy, but he kept his composure, squeezing your hand gently to convey his feelings.
“I... I've been feeling the same way," he admitted quietly, his voice filled with emotion. "I didn't know if you felt the same, but… I've been wanting to tell you how I feel for a while now." His hands felt warm against your cold ones, a reassuring touch that sent a shiver down your spine.
"But are you sure you want to be with someone like me? I’m a bit damaged,” he confessed, his voice carrying a hint of insecurity. As you shared a tender gaze, his vulnerability spilled out.
"At the same time… I want to be with you. You keep me grounded, and every day I feel like I'm becoming a better version of myself because of you. But I don’t want to burden you with my baggage."
Your heart swelled with affection as you reached out to cup his face, gently wiping away the traces of doubt etched there. "Leon, I see you, all of you, and I wouldn't have it any other way.”
“Being damaged doesn’t make you any less worthy of love and happiness. We all have our scars and struggles. What matters is that you’re taking steps to heal, to become the best version of yourself. And I want to be there for you, every step of the way.”
At that moment, Leon knew he couldn't let his fears hold him back any longer.
Leon’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours. The world seemed to stand still as he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a passionate heartfelt kiss. His hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to be apart.
The kiss was intense, filled with all the emotions he couldn’t put into words— the love, the gratitude, the desire. His lips moved against yours with fervent need, and as you responded, you could feel the weight of his insecurities lifting, replaced by the warmth of your mutual affection.
Breaking the kiss, Leon scooped you up from your chair with ease, his arms strong and secure around you. He carried you to your bed and gently laid you down, his gaze never leaving yours. The tenderness in his eyes spoke volumes as he caressed your face.
"You mean everything to me, and I want to be the one you can always rely on." He leaned in for another kiss, sealing his promise with the warmth of his embrace. “Just how I can rely on you.”
When Leon's words settled in, you felt a rush of emotion swell in your chest. You reached up, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath your touch and moving down to his neck where his moles were. The tenderness in his eyes was almost overwhelming, and you could see the sincerity behind every word he had spoken.
Leon let out a gasp as your fingers continued their gentle exploration, the touch feeling soft and human against his skin. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone touched him so tenderly. Letting out a sigh of contentment, he buried his face against your neck, inhaling your familiar scent—the comforting mix of laundry detergent and coffee, so wonderfully homey.
“God, you don’t know how much you've softened me.” He chuckled softly, his lips trailing kisses along your neck.
You couldn't help but tease him, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, is that so?" you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. "Big, tough Leon going all soft on me?"
He lifted his head, meeting your gaze with a grin. "Yeah, you have that effect on me," he admitted. "Never thought I'd be saying that."
You laughed softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. "Well, I kind of like this softer side of you," you teased, your eyes sparkling. "Makes me feel special."
"You are special," Leon whispered, his expression turning serious. "More than you know."
“Leon…I’m ready,” you said, your voice steady but your heart racing.
“Ready for what, sweetheart?” he asked, the endearment rolling off his tongue naturally. He liked how it felt, unlike the generic terms, ‘Babe’ and ‘Baby’ he had used for his past flings when he didn’t bother to remember their names.
“Ready… for you to take my virginity.”
Leon’s eyes widened slightly before he softened, his expression filled with tenderness. "Oh… you're so precious. Not now, okay? I want to take you out on a date first."
“But—”
“No buts,” he interrupted gently. “I can make you feel good without taking it…do you trust me?”
“I do,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth.
“Then just relax," he said softly. "I’m here, and I’ll gladly help you release your stress.”
Without another word, Leon closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a passionate, desperate kiss — a culmination of months of longing and pent-up desire. All your worries and stress melted away as you sought solace in each other’s embrace.
As the kiss deepened, Leon’s hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer with a strong need to please you. The hunger and longing that had built up over the months drove you both, igniting a fire that burned with an intensity neither of you had ever felt before.
Leon’s fingers deftly found the hem of your sweater, slowly lifting it up and over your head. As your bare skin met the cool air, a wave of shyness washed over you. Instinctively, you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to cover yourself.
Leon paused, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and gentle reassurance. He reached out, his hands gently removing yours from your chest. “Don’t hide from me,” he whispered, his voice soft but firm. “You’re beautiful, and I want to see all of you.” He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, and you felt your body relax under his touch, trusting him completely.
“Leon…”
With a reassuring smile, Leon stepped back slightly and grasped the hem of his own shirt. In one smooth motion, he pulled it over his head, revealing the defined lines of his chest, the faint scars that marked his skin, and the tantalising happy trail leading down from his naval.
“See? Nothing to be shy about.” Leon had come so far, enduring countless battles, to reach this moment of vulnerability and softness with you.
You nodded, your cheeks flushing at the sight of his happy trail peeking through his sweatpants. His lips, slightly swollen from your shared kisses, only added to the heat coursing through you. The mere thought of kissing him had you feeling an ache between your legs — maybe those cringy scenes in films about virgin sex aren’t so fake after all. As you squeezed your thighs together unconsciously, he chuckled softly and gently pulled them apart.
"You okay there?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.
You laughed nervously, trying to mask your embarrassment. "Yeah, just... overwhelmed, I guess."
Leon's chuckle deepened. "I'd say that's a good sign," he teased, his fingers tracing a soothing pattern on your thigh. "But let's take it slow, okay?"
Leon's fingers trailed along the curve of your thigh, a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine. "Have you ever... touched yourself before?" he asked softly.
Your breath caught in your throat at his question, the sensation of his touch combined with the intimacy of his inquiry making your heart race. "Um, well... yeah," you replied hesitantly, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks.
Leon's touch became even more tender, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he leaned in closer. "Tell me about it," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "I want to know everything."
“I... I just use my fingers,” you confessed, feeling a little embarrassed by the simplicity of your answer. You found yourself rambling about the prices of sex toys and how impractical they seemed, but Leon's attention was elsewhere as he trailed his fingers down to your clothed heat.
With unabashed hunger, he traced his fingertips over the fabric shielding your wetness, sending shivers through you. He moved lower, his mouth finding your inner thighs, licking and biting gently, his breath hot against your skin.
As you continued to ramble with hitched breaths, Leon nodded along, occasionally responding with a thoughtful "hmm" here and there. His lips pressed against your clothed mound and his tongue piercing tracing circles over the fabric. Each teasing lick and swirling motion sent shivers coursing through your body.
“Leon, fuck,” you moaned, bucking your hips toward his face.
His lips curled into a wicked smirk as he slid down your underwear, revealing your glistening folds. His tongue darted out, flicking against your swollen clit while his hands moved to your hips, holding you in place.
Leon savoured the taste of your arousal, relishing how you quivered beneath him, desperate for more. His lips closed around your clit, sucking gently while his tongue worked in skilled motions. As your moans filled the room, he intensified his assault, his tongue delving deeper and applying more pressure.
“You’re mine,” he murmured against your slick folds, his voice filled with possessiveness. “My special sweetheart.” With a playful yet firm touch, he lightly slapped your clit, eliciting a gasp from you.
Your breath hitched at Leon's possessive words and instinctively, wrapped your legs around his head, pulling him closer and squeezing them together in response. The sensation of his tongue and lips working so intimately against you, combined with the pressure of your thighs around him, heightened the intensity of your pleasure.
“Leon!” you babbled his name like a prayer as he worked his tongue on you. Each flick and swirl of his tongue made you tremble, the overwhelming sensation almost too much to bear. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white, as you surrendered to him.
Lost in the intensity of the moment, Leon started to grind himself against the mattress. His sweatpants strained against his growing erection. He could feel the dampness of his pre-cum soaking through the fabric, each grind intensifying the need coursing through him. His cock strained painfully against the confines of his pants, desperate for release as he focused on bringing you to the edge of ecstasy.
Your breathing grew ragged, and you could feel the tightening coil of release building within you. Instinctively, your hands flew to his head, gripping his hair tightly as you arched your back, your body seeking more of his touch. The sharp tug made Leon grunt, a deep, guttural sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh.
Despite the pain, he refused to relent, his determination evident in the way he continued to devour you. His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as his tongue and lips worked with relentless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy, refusing to let you go.
Finally, with a shuddering gasp, you surrendered to the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal bliss. Leon held you through it all, refusing to let you go until you were utterly undone beneath him, lost in the euphoria of the moment.
As you lay there, panting and trembling, Leon parted from your cunt, his chin and lips glistening with your release. He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes, before tenderly kissing your clit. "You taste so sweet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I could devour you all night."
Your cheeks heated up due to his remarks, a turbulent rush of feelings that filled your senses with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. Under the intensity of his gaze, you quivered, feeling another desire surge through you again.
Leon leaned back, his eyes never leaving yours as he spat on your cunt, the warm liquid mixing with your own arousal. He clumsily peeled off his sweatpants, revealing his hard, straining cock. He positioned himself between your legs, pushing your thighs together to create a tight, plush space.
With a low groan, Leon began to stroke himself between your thighs, the friction against your slick skin sending jolts of pleasure through him. Each thrust caused his piercing to occasionally bump against your clit, sending thrilling shocks through your body and making you gasp with the unexpected sensation.
“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, his eyes fixated on the scandalous sight before him — the view of his reddened and swollen tip emerging from the clutch of your thighs.
You were certain Leon would leave bruises on your thighs from the way he was gripping them. “I’m gonna... gonna—shit,” Leon whimpered, quickening his pace. His thrusts became urgent and forceful, driven by an insatiable hunger for release. The air was filled with the sound of your moans and the slap of skin against skin. He leaned over you, shifting into a mating press with your legs squished to your chest and his balls slapping against your ass.
With a few more thrusts, Leon succumbed to the pleasure, his body tensing as he spilt himself between your thighs and stomach. Waves of ecstasy washed over him, and he continued to move, riding out his orgasm with a mix of intense relief and satisfaction. His body trembled with aftershocks and his breathing erratic as he slowly descended from the high.
As Leon collapsed beside you, panting and spent, he realised that you hadn't come for the second time. He then shifted his position, propping himself up on one elbow as he glanced down at your flushed form. Seeing the need still evident in your eyes, he gently brushed his fingers over your slick folds, seeking out your swollen clit.
"Let me take care of you again," he cooed as he began to rub gentle circles over your sensitive bud. With each stroke, he felt your body respond, the tension building once more as you whimpered and writhed beneath his touch.
Leon focused entirely on bringing you to the peak of pleasure, his movements deliberate and precise as he pushed you closer to the edge. Your moans grew louder, and your hips bucked against his hand, signalling how near you were to release. With a shuddering gasp, you finally reached your climax. Leon’s grip was steady as you trembled beneath him, lost in the overwhelming euphoria.
He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before slipping out of bed. "I'll be right back," he whispered, leaving the room momentarily to grab a warm, damp towel. Returning swiftly, he carefully wiped away the sweat and traces of cum from your skin.
Once he finished, he picked up your discarded sweater from the floor and slipped it over your shoulders, ensuring you were comfortable. You nestled into its warmth as Leon retrieved his own sweatpants and pulled them on.
Returning to your side, he asked softly, "Feeling better?"
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you snuggled closer to him. "Yeah, much better. Thanks for taking care of me."
He smiled back, his eyes filled with affection, and gently massaged the nape of your neck. "How was the aftercare? It's my first time doing it."
You chuckled softly. "Honestly, I can't say much about it since I don't have any experience either."
Leon laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Guess we're both new at this. Maybe I should include 'aftercare specialist' on my résumé."
You grinned, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, but only if I get to be your reference."
He smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Deal."
Pics are from pinterest and edited by: @roseglazedlens
Dividers by: @chachachannah
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hello !! it is again almost 3am where i am but i cannot stop thinking at nerdy james before he gets buff from quidditch.
headcanon time; first or second year, before he knew his friends, he was like this wimpy little kid that got bullied a whole lot (especially by slytherin kids) and that's why he plays pranks on people.
but but! a request maybe of reader liking james before he got popular, but they never made it known because they're the quiet type. but as james became popular, reader stayed the same and they never really really crossed paths again. but there was a time where reader did something small for james back then which he remembered all those years and then they kiss kiss fall in love.
you can you whatever pronouns you want again for reader !!
- 🌱
took the liberty of making the reader a gryffindor hope thats ok
𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞
⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 2.8k
⟢ warnings/tags: intoxication (not reader or james), unsolicited flirting from random guy, james is taller than r, gryffindor!reader, introvert!reader, no specific pronouns for reader used
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Secluded in a quiet corner is where you feel most comfortable at parties. Your fellow Gryffindors are a boisterous bunch, and that's never been your style, making it much easier to watch events like these from the sidelines.
This doesn't make you the most popular student in your house. It's not as though people don't like you, but they don't really know you. If they had to, the vocabulary they would use to describe you would be limited to quiet, nice, and… quiet.
You’ve always wondered if you would've fit in better in another house. Ravenclaw always seemed appealing. Or Hufflepuff maybe. But for reasons you don't understand, the sorting hat put you here. With the daring, self-assured, unreserved students that you couldn't be anymore like. But, you never really minded. As different as they are, at least they're nice.
For the most part.
"Hey, baby," one of your housemates drawls, emerging from the lively crowd and invading your corner. You can't say you remember his name as he cozies up next to you, unceremoniously situating himself against the wall. His shoulder crashes against it roughly as he says, "You look lonely over here."
His warm, beer-scented breath invades your senses and you scrunch your nose in discomfort, veering away from him as you reply, "I'm fine."
"Want some company?" he presses, surging forward to make up for the space you created and then some.
"No, thank you." It's almost annoying that your instinct is to be polite as this guy invades your personal space.
"Cos I could make for some real nice company," he adds, a sinister smirk working its way onto his face as you cringe away from him.
You're wracking your brain for a way out of this situation, when a familiar voice sounds from behind you, saving you the trouble.
"Hey, ready to head out?" James Potter says, and you have no idea what he's talking about, but at least it makes the other guy back away from you slightly.
"James," you blurt, rather dumbly, surprised at his sudden closeness.
Truthfully, you have been eyeing him from your corner; admiring the boy from afar as you have for years. Most of Gryffindor fancies him, and you're no exception. But who wouldn't have a thing for Gryffindor's valiant captain and ever confident head boy? Especially when that boy looks the way James does: standing over six feet tall with a chiseled, muscular physique (thank you, Quidditch). He seems to know it too, the way he carries himself with confidence.
His most captivating feature, though, is his bright, infectious smile. It's always been your favorite thing about him, even when it was still the shy, hesitant grin of a boy who wasn’t yet confident in himself.
"It's about time for us to get out of here, don't you think?" James smiles, baring all of his pearly whites, and he looks like something out of a dream. His eyes flick from you to the boy to your left. "Oh, hey Callaghan, didn't see you there."
"Potter," Callaghan nods in greeting. "You, uh, you know..." he trails off, gesturing aimlessly to you. You're not surprised that he doesn't know your name.
"Y/N? Course I do," James says, stepping closer to you.
But that. That's a surprise.
James towers over both of you, making Callaghan take another step back in intimidation. You're too busy being surprised to feel relieved over the space. James knows your name?
Callaghan gestures between the two of you, trying the gauge your relationship. "And you two are...?"
"Leaving," James says, offering you his hand, “Right?”
You stare at his hand, momentarily dumbfounded, before you take it, “Right.”
You feel kind of hazy as you let James lead you away from Callaghan, away from the lively party, and out into the corridor. The situation is so surreal that you wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly woke up to find it was all a dream. When was the last time you even spoke to James Potter?
"You alright?" James' voice cuts through the silence of Hogwarts' halls. Your eyes meet his concerned ones as he leans against the stone wall, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"Yeah, I'm alright," you say, still a little muddled. You snap out of it with a shake of your head, remembering your manners, "Thank you, by the way."
"Psh," he waves his hand through the air, brushing it off, "You don't need to thank me. Any person with eyes could see Callaghan was being... off putting." James scrunches his nose in judgement, pausing as if to bite his tongue, like has more to say about Callaghan but better not. "Any decent person would've stepped in. No thank you necessary."
"Well I'm thankful anyway," you say quietly, the corner of your mouth tugging upward into a small smile.
James' eyes dart to your lips, your gesture conjuring a wide smile on James' own lips. You're momentarily distracted as his tongue runs across his teeth, barely hearing him as he says, "Well, I may be reluctant to accept your gratitude because I may have had some selfish reasons behind my method."
Your lips part, twitching into the shape of various words that never leave your lips. You feel very warm all of a sudden.
James does a rubbish job of hiding the amusement in his eyes, but he is kind enough to put you out of your misery with an explanation, "I need a walking buddy. Was hoping you'd like to join me?"
You're not any less dumfounded but you manage to get the words out this time. "You want me to go on a walk with you?"
"Yeah," James says, like it's not strange at all.
"Why didn't you ask one of your friends to go?"
"You are my friend," James insists, and you cock and eyebrow.
"I was surprised that you even knew my name."
"Of course I know you! We're friends," he emphasizes.
You look at him skeptically, not sure what you did to make a friend out of him. Not that you wouldn't like to be his friend, but friends usually talk to each other. The last time James spoke to you was last year to ask if you had an extra roll of parchment. And he was more so asking the entire class, you just so happened to be the one with the parchment.
"Do you not want to be my friend?" He asks in a teasing tone, having let you stare in silent skepticism for long enough.
He's not being serious, but you panic anyway. "What!? No! I mean no I don't not want to be friends!"
He chuckles as he pushes himself up from wall. "Then walk with me, would'ya?" He nods his head off in the same direction he starts walking, expecting that you'll follow.
You do, your feet moving faster than your brain can overthink your way into a no. But as you walk next to him your thoughts catch up with you.
What are you supposed to talk about? What do you know about him? Quidditch. What do you know about Quidditch? You know lots about Quidditch. Quick, say something about Quidditch before this silence gets awkward. Why do you suddenly not know anything about Quidditch?
The effects of your racing mind are written across face, your features contorted in worry and a lasting skepticism as you glance up at James every so often.
James is glancing at you too, finding every little crease and contour from your worried look endearing as silent laughter bubbles in his chest.
"Alright, what's that face?" James finally asks, his tone as gentle as possible as not to make you uncomfortable.
Your expression softens into sheepishness. James looks at you with such kindness that you find yourself voicing your concerns.
"We're friends?" you ask in a small, hesitant voice.
James is quick to defend his claim, "I've known you since we were kids!"
"We haven't spoken since we were kids," you say.
He seems to deflate at your words, faltering as he experiences a moment of speechlessness.
"Besides," you go on, a hint of smugness creeping up on you, "we've known everyone at this school since we were kids. Does that make us friends with everyone?"
James is quick to shake his head. "Not everyone was as kind as you back then."
Any trace of smugness has been quickly expunged and replaced by a fluttering in your stomach as his eyes fill with what you would call admiration if you didn't know any better.
"And you were exceptionally kind," he adds on, not helping ease the butterflies in your stomach. "Though you're right. I should've talked to you. I don't know why I didn't talk to you more."
"It's okay," you say in a small voice, prompting you to clear your throat before you continue, "We're talking now."
James smiles that radiant, charming smile that makes you swoon. Before silence can settle over you James' face lights up as an idea pops into his head.
"Have you even been on the Quidditch Pitch at night? I mean, when there's no game going on?"
You shake your head, your eyebrows creasing as you find his question rather random. Before you've fully grasped what he's implying, he's grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the castle.
A gasp escapes your lips as he tugs you along, his enthusiasm and long strides causing him to race ahead without realizing how fast he’s moving. It's only when you're outside that you find your voice again.
"James!"
He slows his pace and drops your hand. For a moment, he looks almost embarrassed, shrugging his shoulders as he lacks an excuse for his sudden burst of energy.
You shake your head with a smile. “Some things never change. Do you ever take a deep breath and just mellow out?” you ask, noticing with amusement that he’s just as hyperactive now as he was when you were kids.
James makes a big show of taking a long, deep breath as he falls into step with you at a much more leisurely pace than before.
You shake your head again, chuckling.
"Some things do change, by the way. For example, you were taller than me back then," he says, resting his elbow on the top of your head to emphasize the difference.
You jerk your head away, playfully retorting, "Everyone was taller than you."
"Shut up!" he laughs, letting his arm fall to his side. He's close enough that his arm brushes against yours as you walk. You feel the shake of his laughs against your skin and you can't help but giggle along.
It doesn't take long to walk to the quidditch pitch. The walk felt shorter than it does on game days, but maybe that's because you didn't have James to walk with.
You follow James out to the very center of the field, where he wastes no time to plop down into the grass. "Lay with me," he says, crossing his arms behind his head. "You can see all the stars from out here," he says to convince you.
"You come out here a lot?" you ask as you sink down beside him. The grass tickles your skin as you lay down.
"I've been coming out here since I was a first year," James reveals. "I used to lay in the grass, just like this, and imagine what I would look like flying above dodging bludgers and scoring winning goals."
"Yeah?"
James hums affirmatively. "I've always loved Quidditch. Wanted to play for as long as I can remember. And then I came to Hogwarts, and Merlin, I thought the Quidditch players were so cool. Wanted to be like them so bad."
"What does it feel like?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you’re the one first years are looking up to now."
"No, they're not," James scoffs in complete disbelief.
"James," you deadpan, thinking he can't be serious. "You're the Gryffindor captain and rightfully so. One of the best chasers Hogwarts has probably ever seen. I mean, way you escaped that bludger last weekend?” you muse. “Not to mention the Chudley Chop Down you pulled off. You looked just like the professionals, it was incredible!"
James is caught at a loss for words again, a rare occurrence for him, but you've managed to make it happen twice now.
You clear your throat, realizing how you've just raved on about him to his face. You excuse yourself with, "I, um, I really like Quidditch."
James blinks away the awestricken glint in his eyes, responding, "Figured as much. Don't think I've ever played a game I haven't seen you in the crowd of. But enough about me," he continues. "What about you and your achievements, eh?”
“What are you talking about?”
"Don't be coy. You have to be the brightest witch at Hogwarts."
"No, that's–"
"C'mon I've seen the marks you get. And no one gets Gryffindor more house points in class than you do. All the professors love you; Slughorn always seats you to his right at Slug Club meetings. And I thought Minnie had a soft spot for me but then I saw how she talks to you."
"Maybe if you called her Professor McGonagall once in a while," you tease, trying to distract him from showering you with anymore compliments to spare your heart from racing any longer.
"Wouldn't matter. She likes you because you're smart. Driven too. She knows you’ll do great things after school. Everyone knows you'll be one of the most successful in our class."
"I hardly think anyone notices me,” you say, nervously ripping up blades of grass from the ground.
"I have," he says, looking at you with so much fondness it takes your breath away.
Your eyes widen, sparkling with warm astonishment at all his kind words. James notices the way your parted lips curve into a small, shy smile. Slowly, it grows into a grin.
He nudges you, "Now what's that look for?"
"This is just... unexpected."
"Unexpected?"
"I mean I didn't realize you remembered by name, let alone knew anything about me."
James' expression is tinted with disbelief. He removes his arms from behind his head as he angles his body slightly toward you, gearing towards something serious. "Of course I did. When I said you were kind to me back then, you were really the only one who was. How could I forget you?"
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as James sighs deeply.
"Merlin, I really should have talked to you more," he says, shaking his head.
"It's okay–"
"No," he insists, "I should have talked to you more. I don't know why I didn't– I mean I do know why I just..."
You swallow hard, giving yourself time to find your voice. "There's a reason?" you ask.
James turns his head, shifting back against the grass as his gaze finding the stars above him. You can see the moon reflecting in his eyes as he bathes in its light. He looks ethereal like this.
"You make me nervous," he's able to admit in the comfort of not having to see your reaction, pretending it’s just him and the moon out here.
Your jaw goes slack. You'd sooner think you're being pranked or he's under some kind of spell than to believe his words.
"What?" you finally utter. Your hand freezes with a chunk of freshly ripped up grass held hostage between your fingertips.
James chuckles, "You were so nice to me. And I always thought you were so pretty I– every time you said something kind to me I would get so red in the face."
You're silent, at a loss for words as you try to wrap your mind around his admission. If the tips of his ears hadn't turned red, you'd think he's lying.
"I mean everything made me nervous back then," he continues. "Thank Merlin I grew out of that, but you..."
James finally looks at you again, his eyes darting across your face as he absorbs your reaction. Carefully, he takes hold of your wrist, placing your palm flat on his chest, over his heart.
"You still make my heart race," he says quietly, and you can feel the proof under your fingertips.
Words make their way past your lips almost instinctively, driven by a desire to reassure him. "I... I was too nervous to talk to you too."
The fondness in his eyes grows even warmer, and he begins tracing gentle lines on the back of your wrist with the pad of his thumb. "It's alright," he says. His tone is genuine and hopeful as he continues, "We're talking now," he repeats your words from earlier with newfound affection. "And I'd really like it if we could keep talking."
"Yeah," you say. A wave of courage washes over you, and you adjust your hand to intertwine your fingers with his. "Me too."
After that, you find yourself out here a lot more often, staring at the stars with James, your fingers intertwined. You're both much more comfortable around each other now, but from time to time, you still make each other's heart race.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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