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witchywcmans · 4 months

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AGAINST THE LAW. | KEN RYUGUJI

synopsis ━━ after one too many trips to the auto repair shop with your old car, you realize you can focus on your work tasks so much better in the waiting room. but when the head mechanic notices you've been loitering, you recognize him instantly: ken ryuguji. there’s zero chance you’re getting out of this one. (older!draken x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ missionary position on a motorcycle (hey, this is fiction), cunnilingus + fingering, praise, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (i.e. cherry), mentions loss of virginity in the past, mutual pining, au as helllll, draken is in his late 20s and a mechanic. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 5.2k

song inspiration ━━ one for the road, arctic monkeys / one of the girls, the weeknd / fallen star, the neighbourhood

author's note ━━ ok off the bat, I just wanna say this fic was completely inspired by this movie called wait with me. my friends and I like to watch passionflix movies for the laughs, but this one wasn't. well horrible. if you watch it, don't expect oscar-worthy performances, but it was fun and stupid and yeah, it made me think about what if part of this concept was applied to draken when he was older, workin as a mechanic. idk. I'm not caught up on the manga whatsoever so take this as a major au lol

Your car was a piece of shit, but that wasn’t the only reason you ended up sitting in the waiting room at the mechanic’s more than usual. A police officer would call it loitering. You, on the other hand, called it a safe space. For the past couple of weeks, your car had been in and out of the shop due to a faulty ignition sensor that your mechanic couldn’t nail down until your car broke down on the side of the highway. For the third time. Needless to say, it had been a stressful past month. The car issues had been one thing, but then there was all the pressure at work. And for some reason, you began to find comfort in working at the mechanic’s waiting room.

Your work as a journalist was very important to you. A perfectionist at heart, you needed to be in the right zone, the right state of mind, to write. Unfortunately, you weren’t someone who could sit at your desk at home for hours, typing away at the speed of light, and you definitely couldn’t focus at a coffee shop. You tried a plethora of other places. The local park: your laptop died. The library: teenagers still whispered too loud even in the quietest of places. The McDonald's parking lot: you got distracted by your hunger. Nowhere was right … until you were forced to work from your mechanic’s waiting room while he worked on your car.

Even when your mechanic figured out the issue, you couldn’t help but sneak in through the entrance late mornings and work on your articles. The waiting room was just so … quiet, even more quiet than a library. There was hardly anyone in there besides the retired folk who could wait all day for their car to be fixed. You had a coffee machine at your disposable – not good coffee, but good enough – and a selection of snacks from the vending machine. It was pure bliss. You liked to hole yourself up in the corner, picking out different outfits that would conceal your face enough, and type away until the sun began to set. No one said a word to you. No one batted an eye.

So, as you can see, it was a surprise to you when someone eventually approached you two months into your loitering scheme.

It was just about closing time and you were shoving your laptop in your backpack after sending off another draft to your editor. A pair of feet appeared in front of your chair, and when you looked up at the young mechanic chewing on the end of a toothpick, you knew you were fucked.

“Toyota,” he said without missing a beat, knowing your car from the top of his head, “ignition sensor, right?”

You paused, sliding on your backpack. Could you make a break for it? “Um … correct.”

“That was fixed weeks ago,” he said, slapping a dirty rag on his shoulder, car keys dangling from the other hand.

Your mouth went completely dry. How the fuck could you explain this without coming off as a total weirdo? Your hands gripped the straps of your backpack for dear life. This was so embarrassing.

Before you could reply, the young mechanic gestured to the back door with his chin. “Follow me,” he said. “Boss wants to talk to ‘ya.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Still fiddling with your backpack straps, you knew there was no choice but to follow this guy. He led you through the back door and into the main workshop area of the shop. There were some cars left on a few lifts, ready to be inspected tomorrow, and the shelves packed with parts seemed to be in disarray. Besides that, there was no one in here but you, the young mechanic, and whoever this “boss” was still working in the back of the shop. You had never met the owner of the shop before; you typically worked with your mechanic and no one else.

You took down the hood that you’d been wearing today. There was no use in hiding your face now.

“Here she is, boss,” the man beside you said, still twirling those keys. “Can I go home now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boss replied, hidden behind the huge motorcycle he was working on. “Good work today.”

The younger man left, the bell above the office door jingling, and now it was just two: you and this so-called boss you’d never met. You stood there in silence, hands fidgeting with anxiety, as you waited for the boss to say something. From behind the motorcycle, all you could see was a flash of blonde hair and smoke puffing out into the dingy air. It smelled like motor oil and cigarettes back here.

You lifted your foot – maybe it was time to try and sprint out – but then a deep voice entered the work space.

“You know that loitering is against the law, right?”

That voice … it was familiar, but you couldn’t put a pin on it. And then, the boss was standing up, and you saw the tuft of blonde hair slicked back, the shaved sides on his head. That infamous dragon tattoo still on his left temple. The little hoop on his left ear was accompanied by a few other small piercings. He was still the same height – over six feet – but had grown some muscle. His hands were calloused from all those years of fighting, and now, from heavy labor. And those eyes … they were still as stormy and dark as the first day you saw him in school.

This wasn’t just embarrassing. This was mortifying.

“C’mon, Cherry,” Draken said, instantly recognizing you and your old nickname, “you know you can’t loiter in my shop.”

Cherry. You hadn’t been called that since … well, since high school. Your classmates hadn’t started calling you that because of a specific physical trait. To your face, you were told the nickname was for your quick skill of tying a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue. You had been the best, after all. But unbeknownst to you, the nickname came from when Mikey Sano, the infamous former leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang, popped your cherry.

You hadn’t even liked Mikey at the time. You were just sweet sixteen, and he was a year older, and you had assumed it would be better for your first to be someone with experience. Unfortunately, Mikey Sano had no experience. The sex had been awkward and terrible, as most first times between teenagers are, but at least you could say that you lost your virginity to the leader of Toman. Your eyes had always been on someone else, though. Someone who you had been too nervous to talk to, who you had only shared just a few interactions with. You never had a crush on Mikey as a teenager; you had always liked –

“Draken,” you said finally, shock lining your voice. Your eyes formed into wide saucers. It had been so long, and he was here. This whole time. Right under your nose. How surprised did you look right now?

He chuckled, wiping his hands off on a rag. The cigarette dangling from his lips was plucked out, and he stabbed it into an ashtray. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Oh, so you did look that shocked to see him.

He threw the tool he’d been using on a bench and stepped around the bike. “I really don’t go by Draken anymore,” he continued, sitting down on the rusted motorcycle, stretching his legs out. “Just call me, Ken.”

You were speechless. Were you breathing right now? You had to admit … you still found him to be handsome. He always had been. God, you were obsessed with him in high school, but always hid your crush in the shadows. Not even your friends knew about it, but you’d made it obvious, even if you didn’t know it. And now … he’d gotten better with age. The lines underneath his eyes told a story, as well as the scars etched into his veiny forearms. He could have more that you couldn’t see underneath the tattoos on his arms. Your mouth was so dry from staring at him that you had to lick the corners of your lips.

“Ken,” you said in a single breath, lacing your hands together in front of your body. You hadn’t moved from your spot, even when he was looking at you so casually. “I’m so sorry for loitering. Please, don’t call the cops on me. Or something. I have a reason –”

“Me? Call the police?” He laughed again, and it was just like how you remembered. “Do you know me at all, Cherry?”

Once you found the courage to breathe again, you stepped forward. Then another. And another. “I guess I don’t,” you shrugged, still playing with your hands. “I guess I just knew of you.”

“And I knew of you, all those years ago.” He smiled like you two were in on a secret. The rag that had been in his hands was tossed onto his left shoulder. He was wearing a pair of grey coveralls stained with oil, but the top half was unzipped and tied around his waist, leaving him in just a white tank top on his torso, which hugged his muscles so nicely. “So, tell me then. What’s the reason for your loitering?”

This had to be the most words shared between you two than all those years at school together. You thought about pinching yourself, just to check if this was all part of an elaborate dream. Or nightmare, depending on how it ended.

“Um …” You rubbed the back of your neck, blushing slightly. “Well, you see … the waiting room at your shop is very … quiet.”

His brow raised. “So I’ve been told.” He stared you down. “C’mon, out with it.”

“You’re going to make fun of me.”

“I will not.”

“Yes, you will.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we went to school together!”

“Oh, you know that means noth –”

“I’m a journalist and I write my articles better in your waiting room,” you finally answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “There. I said it.”

Draken couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He knew he promised, but the giggles bubbled up inside him, forcing themselves to emerge. You looked at him incredulously, blinking too fast. All you wanted right now was to crawl into a hole and be left alone. You had to find a new mechanic after this.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” you sighed.

He waved his hand as his laughter died down. “I’m not. I promise.” Finally, his shoulders sagged again and he stood up. “I think it’s really cool that you … like my waiting room so much.”

You found your lips pulling into a smile at the same time as him. The tension broke and you felt your dimples crease. “I also like all the little snacks in the machine.”

“And the coffee?” He added.

You shrugged. “Could use some work.”

Draken laughed again, and just the sound of it made butterflies form in your stomach. You never had such a reaction to someone laughing before. What was wrong with you?

He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his coveralls. “It’s … really nice to see you again, Cherry.”

You mimicked his actions, instead sliding your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “You too, Ken.”

“I won’t bust you for loitering, by the way. Even if it is against the law,” he chuckled under his breath, whipping the rag off his shoulder once again. “Come over here. Let me show you what I’m working on.”

His tone was so casual, as if years hadn’t passed between you two, as if this wasn’t the most you talked in years. You set your backpack down and approached him in front of the bike. Your fingers ran over the slope of the seat, all new despite the rusty exterior of the motorcycle. “That’s new leather,” he informed you. “Feel free to test it out. I need someone else’s butt on this thing so I know if I chose a good material.”

You giggled, all light and flirty. You simply couldn’t help it, especially when he looked at you with those dark eyes, the corners creasing when he smiled. Without missing a beat, you sat down on the side of the bike, like he had minutes ago, and looked up at him. He was tall, but from this seat, he was even taller.

He pointed to the wheel of the bike, and then the headlight. “I just started replacing the …” His voice drowned out as you simply focused on his lips. His mouth quirked as he explained what he fixed so far on the bike. You watched his finger dance around the bike, taking in the rough exterior of his hands up close. They were so much bigger now, amongst other things –

“So how’s that seat?”

You blinked, bringing yourself out of your horny stupor. “Oh, um – comfy. Very comfy.” You cleared your throat. “So … is this for a customer?”

“It’s mine. This is a personal project,” he explained, leaning slightly to the left, closer to you. “I wouldn’t be working on anything this late except if it was for me.”

His eyes were on you again, drinking you in as you sat on the bike. He placed his hand on the fuel tank, so close to yours. Your stomach was definitely doing flip-flops now, especially when you noticed the way his eyes raked down your figure. You wished you’d chosen something better to wear, something other than a pair of jeans and a cropped hoodie, but you’d only expected to be getting work done in the waiting room today. Not to be confronted by your old school crush. But it looked like it didn’t matter to him. The way he was looking at you … it felt like you were naked.

“It really is nice to see you again,” he said, voice just slightly above a whisper. His stance changed and he moved to stand between your legs.

You bit your lip for a moment. “You already said that.”

“You’re right. Uh … I …” He looked down at his hands, flexing them, breaking his nerves. “You just … look very pretty … sitting on my bike.”

You looked down at yourself. The way you sat with your legs spread wide was anything but attractive, and it wasn’t like you were wearing a cute, little dress. “I do?”

But when you lifted your stare again, his face was so much closer to yours. He was leaning down now, bracing two hands on the leather seat, and trying to pretend like he wasn’t inhaling your perfume. You just smelled … so good. Like strawberries and apples and … cherries. Red, ripened cherries. And the way you were sitting on that seat, eyes wide and cheeks blushing from being caught earlier. Fuck, it reminded him of the first time he saw you in high school. He had been a horny teenager, of course, but the way he saw you tie that cherry stem with your tongue … you were the first person he ever jerked off to the thought of. He had never made a move on you – ever – but at this moment, he was glad. Because things would’ve been different, and you never would’ve ended up loitering at his shop, and you never would’ve been sitting so pretty on his bike, all these years later.

“I just …” He trailed off, words failing him, as he lifted a hand to skim it over your jawline. “You can tell me to stop.”

But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. Your eyes simply batted up at him, leaning into his touch when his fingers caressed your cheek. Your skin immediately flushed. You were so soft, and warm, and god, did his skin prickle when he touched you.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He muttered, voice gravely. You nodded instantly, and his thumb went to trace the outline of your lips. “I had always been … jealous that Mikey got to you first.”

Had your feelings in high school been reciprocated and you didn’t even know it? You licked at the corners of your lips, your tongue quickly flicking his thumb in the process. “You were?” You asked, already feeling yourself getting wet from just him tracing your lips. “I … never really liked Mikey anyways.” You then shook your head. “It feels silly to talk about this so many years later –”

Draken turned your face back to his, looking into your eyes sternly. “You never liked Mikey,” he said, point blank, pressing his thumb onto your bottom lip.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around the fingertip. You shook your head at his question.

His breath hitched. Just the sight of your lips around his thumb had him adjusting himself in his pants. He could feel his cock start to swell with need, causing him to mumble a soft, “Fuck,” under his breath.

You weren’t just wet now. You were soaked.

You slipped your mouth off his thumb, leaving a tiny trail of spit. His face immediately got closer, his lips grazing yours. He could tell they were soft, and even your chapstick smelled like cherries. God, how could he be so hard already? “I liked you back when we were teenagers,” you confessed, reaching out to hook your thumbs in the belt loops on his coveralls. “I was too scared to say anything, and Mikey … he’d just been there. Right place at the right time. We really didn’t feel anything for each other.”

Your words stirred something within him, something more than jealousy. Was it regret? The fact that he could’ve had you, all those years ago, if he’d just manned up and asked. He could’ve fought people all day, but when it came to asking out the girl he liked, he’d sat back, let his best friend pop your cherry. It should’ve been him. Fuck, it could’ve been him.

His lips pressed to yours instantly, needing to taste the sweetness on your lips. His tongue darted out, swiping at that cherry flavor, and he moaned. Actually moaned. Draken wasn’t known to be weak for anyone, but you … you had always been a different story. You pulled him in closer by his belt loops, tipping your face up as he leaned over you. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue slipping past your lips once again to explore your mouth. He gripped the edge of the seat, his other hand cradling your jaw, and you wanted him so much closer. If he just put his knee between your legs, you could –

There it was. He did it, placing his knee right in the perfect spot. You bucked your hips up, setting a slow grind against his knee as he kissed you with feverish intent. Moans fell from your lips and into the kiss, making the tent in his pants grow bigger every passing second. He was so fucking hard now, and he needed more of you. He would have more of you.

“No, stop,” he muttered, breaking the kiss and moving his knee away. You huffed with disappointment, wanting that delicious friction once again, but when you opened your eyes, he was staring at you with purpose. “Please, let me taste you.”

You nodded dumbly, eyes blown out with lust. All you could say was, “Okay.”

In another life, you would’ve said something endearing, or maybe even hit him with a little dirty talk. But you absolutely couldn’t right now. Your head was swimming, the image of him unzipping your jeans and taking them off felt like it was out of a fever dream. Is this what it felt like to drown? No, you were breathing – just about – and Draken was throwing your pants off to the side, kneeling before you. Your legs spread wide as you sat on the bike. Surely, there could’ve been a better place to do this, but the way he was staring at your soaked panties, pushing them to the side to take in your pussy … you knew there was no stopping him. This was just his first course of the night.

His tongue dove between your wet folds, drinking you in like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. You knew you were done for when his arms wrapped around your legs, holding them apart, giving himself better access to one thing he’d craved for years. He rolled his tongue over your swollen clit, enjoying the sounds that slipped out of your mouth. You muttered obscenities, bucked your hips without thinking, pulled on his slicked-back hair. Anything to give you more friction on your precious, aching clit.

He dragged his tongue down, pushing it inside your warmth, collecting the arousal and groaning like a man starved. Fucking his tongue into you, he angled his nose to brush your clit, and you just about mewled. You had spent so many years either having mediocre sex or stressing over this stupid job, when this – this man you had been in love with in school – was here the whole time, just dreaming about the day he could eat your pussy. So much time wasted, so many fake orgasms, while Ken Ryuguji owned your favorite auto shop, so close to you and right under your nose.

You were pretty sure the seat on this bike had to have been ruined. Draken was turning you into a wet mess, making your hips buck against his face. His lips wrapped your beloved clit, sucking and pulling, needing more – so much more – of you. Slipping two fingers inside you, he pumped them fast. It didn’t take long for his fingers to curl and find that sweet spot that had your core trembling around him. He didn’t know what he’d do if you came on his face. Honestly, he’d probably cum in his pants on the spot.

“C’mon … c’mon … you can cum in my m–mouth –” He was practically begging, his voice muffled from deep within your thighs. “Tastes so, so good … fuck, Cherry, fuck –”

You couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t even think about anything but the way his tongue lapped at your clit, before you were cumming on his tongue, your arousal smearing all over his lips. He moaned the second he got just a hint of your essence, burying his face more into your legs. You tasted better than candy, than cherries, than menthol cigarettes. He could spend forever between these thighs, drinking you in and listening to your desperate moans.

Once your body stopped shaking, he dragged his tongue one last time through your folds, making sure he didn’t miss a drop. You yelped from the overstimulation, and when you opened your eyes, he was rising from in between your legs. His licked at your slick still staining his lips, bringing your mouth to his again, letting you taste yourself. Your hands fisted into his shirt, downright desperate for more of him. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled back.

“I know it’s not ideal, given the place we’re in, but …” He cradled your face in both in his hands, as if you were just a baby bird. “Can I fuck you, Cherry?”

You nodded without hesitation, already drunk on his touch. You weren’t exactly sure how he planned on doing this. I mean … you two were in the dirty workshop area of an auto repair shop. This wasn’t exactly the best place to have sex. But then he was adjusting your position on the motorcycle, laying your head down by the handlebar and pulling your legs on both sides of the seat, your ass resting nicely in the curve. His hands were quick to roll off your panties.

“Ken,” you called out, sitting up a little and dragging your hand up. His white tank bunched up at the waist. “Wanna see more of you …”

Draken was so goddamn hard in his pants, his cock throbbing with the anticipation of being inside you, but you were just so pretty and he was putty in your hands. He let your palms explore him, lifting his tank top up so you could see what the fabric had been concealing. He’d really filled out since school – his arms were toned, his abdomen more defined. He looked like the statue of Apollo, all lean and muscled, but with just the right amount of grit. You liked that he never got his dragon tattoo removed (although, that would’ve been very painful), and that his piercings remained the same. Everything about him seemed untouched, but he’d just gotten better with age. Just the sight of him made your mouth water.

You leaned back down on the bike, bringing him down with you. Your lips pressed against his hungrily, and he was so, so tempted to slip his tongue into your mouth, when he felt his cock hard as a rock in his pants, aching and pulsating. His mouth broke away from yours, and he whispered, quite hopelessly, “I’m so sorry, but I really, really need to be inside you or my dick is going to explode.”

A chuckle escaped your lips, and just the sound of it made Draken smile. You nodded, urging him to continue, and he quickly unzipped the bottom half of his coveralls. He took his cock out: it was long, curved, pink at the tip, and leaking precum on the shop floor. All the more reason to be inside you; he couldn’t have his mechanics seeing that on the floor and wondering what he was doing after hours. He pulled a condom out from his wallet and slid the ribbed rubber on. Lifting both your legs onto his shoulders, your ass was almost rising off the seat and he positioned himself between your thighs, noticing the way your slick was smeared all over his seat. He grunted at the sight of it, slamming his cock into your without thinking.

You cried out, feeling him so deep so quickly. He held your legs up, leaning down as far as he could, and muttered, “Fuck, I’m sorry – so sorry – just … needed to be inside you. Needed to fuck you on my bike.”

You hand came up to cup his chin for a moment. “S’okay,” you promised, “just fuck me like you should’ve done years ago, Draken.”

He knew he told you to call him Ken, but just the nickname falling your lips in such a filthy manner had him groaning. Draken pulled out of you until only the tip remained, and then pounded his cock back inside you. You keened, trying to close your legs, but he held them up by his shoulders. He set a fast pace inside you, unable to keep his moans at bay, and slipped one hand off your leg to snake his fingers up your hoodie, pushing it up to your chin. Pulling your breasts out from your bra, his eyes clouded and played with your sensitive nipples. “So good,” he muttered, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment. “Feels so, so good … needed you for so long, Cherry.”

“I know, I know, Draken,” you whimpered, locking your arms around his neck to bring his face closer to yours, your thighs now curling against your chest. Your back ached against the seat and your legs burned from the uncomfortable position, but you wouldn’t dare push him away, not when he was filling you like this.

With his lips just grazing yours, he tugged on your lip, making you moan, and he fucked into you harder. Your nails were now dragging down his shoulders, leaving marks that he’d think about forever. “Fuck, I’m s’deep … so deep inside you. You’re so warm, so wet – fuck, I’m so close already.”

“Wait for me,” you begged, sighing as his cock curved against your sweet spot. “Wanna cum with you, Draken.”

“I know, Cherry,” he grunted, his pace relentless. Fuck, this was all he ever needed, all he wanted to do, forever. It felt like you were made to take him. “Touch yourself f’me. Cum together … we’ll cum together.”

You nodded quickly, moving your hand in between your bodies, finding your puffy clit so easily. A whine escaped your lips as you fingers rubbed little circles, getting you so close already. You just needed a little push. Draken was slamming into you, his breaths fanning your cheeks, and when he felt your legs start to shake, your walls clenching just a little, he almost died. “Such a good girl …” He cooed, nose brushing yours. “Touching yourself f’me so nicely … fuck, you take me so well … yes, yes, you’re so close. Just like that.”

Your fingers rubbed a little faster, and you knew your orgasm was imminent. With him pushing into you, filling you completely, and the stimulation on your clit … you felt your lips purse into an O-shape. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Draken. I’m gonna … fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“I know, I know,” he groaned. “Fuck – gonna cum too. That’s a good girl … doing so good – fuck –”

His release came first. He had been close for so long, Draken was surprised he’d been able to hold back. He came with a loud groan, spilling himself into the condom, and it was only seconds later that your jaw went slack with pleasure. His name fell from your lips in a whimper, and you kept rubbing that aching clit through your orgasm, going tight around his cock. He wouldn’t stop fucking into you, even when your orgasm subsided, needing to feel you clench around him for just a moment longer. The way he filled you wasn’t like any other. You never wanted to feel empty again. You couldn’t, not when you knew how Ken Ryuguji felt inside you.

When you both eventually stopped trembling, he gently placed your legs back down on the sides of the bike. They felt sore and limp, but that was the last thing on your mind. You opened your eyes at the same time, and you both couldn’t help but laugh at the position you were in, the absurdity of it all. The workshop smelled like gas and oil, and you were surrounded by broken-down cars. But you two had fucked like you were in a bedroom, on a soft mattress, rather than a motorcycle. You hand went over your mouth to suppress your giggles.

Draken smiled with you, and then removed your hand, liking the way you laughed. “I know it’s been a long time coming, but … can I take you out some night?”

You couldn’t stop smiling even if you tried. “I’d like that, Ken.”

His cock had gone soft, but he was still nestled inside you, basking in your warmth. Draken wished he could be inside you forever, with your fingers playing with his hair. He would give anything for this moment to last, but he knew this position on the bike had to be the most uncomfortable for you, and he needed to take off this condom. He chuckled under his breath.

“Also, in case you were wondering,” he said, lips pulling into a smirk. “You can loiter around my waiting room anytime.”

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alisonfelixwrites · 6 months

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the deal - part 1/3 (*) [harry styles au]

part two, part three.

summary: in which harry & claire are both single parents and their kids are best friends in school. atlas & finn are six years old and want to hang out all the time even if their parents don't get along .... at first.

word count: 23,973

content warning: smut!! (not too much for my standards lol). mentions of drug use, single parenthood with neglect from the other parent, mentions of physical/emotional abuse

this one is also already on my wp (to be found under 'muse')!! but she deserved her own moment on tumblr because this is one of my faves ❤️

“Oh my god.” The voice of a distressed woman behind the wheel sounded through the car.

Claire pressed her hand down on the honk once more, “Fucking move!” She roared before swerving to the side, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The many curse words easily tumbled from her dry lips as she made her way through a part of town she hadn’t often driven through.

Her old Toyota stood out like a sore thumb between all the fancy cars of the fancy people who resided here in these fancy homes. She was sure that if they took one look at her, her Burger King outfit would stand out too against the bright blue of her old car.

“Why the fuck do you drive a Tesla when you don’t even know how to use it!” Claire continued shouting, making hand gestures to the other drivers. An elderly woman driving a BMW gave her a disgusted look and Claire simply rolled her eyes, speeding off now that the intersection had finally cleared a bit.

Her heart was hammering in her throat and her hands were tightly clamped around the wheel. With her cap still on her head, Claire hadn’t had the time to get changed once she noticed the many missed calls on her phone. She simply jumped into her car after her shift and drove like a maniac to try and keep the damage to a minimum.

Waze finally showed the place she had to be at, and she came to a screeching halt before clumsily driving up a massive driveway which held a Land Rover and an old Volkswagen Beetle. Claire jumped out of the car and rushed up to the front door, completely out of breath.

Jamming her finger on the doorbell over and over again, she noticed a set of lights being turned on in the hallway before the door was yanked open.

“I’m so sorry!” She immediately blurted out, being met with a man who shot her an angry and very judging glare. Claire couldn’t blame him. She had fucked up.

He towered over her, blocking the doorway to his house as Claire shifted on her feet. He took a quick glance at her outfit, “I take it you’re Claire Carter?”

“Yes.” She breathed, “Shit, I-I’m so sorry I’m so late.” She palmed her forehead, fatigue taking over. Her entire body ached after standing on her feet for so many hours, faking polite smiles at the customers who did nothing but treat her like shit. She reeked of fries and couldn’t wait to take a shower.

The man in front of her wore joggers and a casual, white shirt. He had a clip holding his brown hair away and some scruff on his jaw. The judging look he sent her made Claire wish the ground could swallow her whole. He eventually exhaled, “You’re the one who forgot her child at school?” The snide tone of his voice made Claire press her lips together.

She lowered her eyes and swallowed, “Look, I’m just here to pick up Atlas.” Her voice was softer now, “Where is he?”

“Inside.” The man nudged his head inside his house, “Playing with my boy.”

Claire nodded, “Right. You’re Finn’s dad, aren’t you? Atlas talks about him a lot."

“Yeah.”

Silence took over and Claire glanced into the hallway behind him, “So… Can you tell him I’m here? Or can I come in?” A hint of impatience laced her voice. It was already late and Claire knew the never ending amount of chores that were waiting for her at home. Not to mention she had to get Atlas to bed on time to not disrupt their entire weekend schedule.

“He’s a good kid, you know?” The man spoke, snapping Claire out of her thoughts. She flicked her eyes up at him before frowning softly, “I’m aware. I’m raising him.”

“No, like… He’s a good kid. Teacher was raving about him. I went in to pick up Finn and they were the only two left. The teacher was about ready to leave and she couldn’t reach you. She was about to call the police.”

Claire’s cheeks turned an embarrassed shade of pink as she swallowed. She was being lectured by this man, who clearly judged her for not being a decent parent and forgetting to pick up her child after school. Claire’s stomach turned, knowing full well she already wasn’t making a good impression with the people of Atlas’ new school. She was hardly ever there to drop him off or pick him up and had a sitter do those things. She had never even met most of the teachers or the other parents, which was very frowned upon at that school.

“I’d like to take him home now.” Claire repeated, her voice a little hoarse, “It’s late.”

“Wonder why.” He scoffed before sighing and turning around, “Finn!” He yelled into the house. Claire felt her bottom lip wobbling, attempting to recompose herself before the sheer look of disgust of this man brought her to tears.

She soon heard little footsteps running over the wooden floors of the house, which honestly was more of a mansion. Even when Claire felt like shit, the sight of her little boy with his shaggy blonde hair, cheered her up immediately. With a wide grin on her face, she crouched down, opening up her arms for him to jump into her.

“Hi, baby!” Claire squeaked, spinning him around as Atlas clung to her. He had some sort of stain on his shirt but Claire didn’t mind, holding his body close to hers. “Hi, mummy! I missed you today.” Atlas bubbled in response. Claire hummed before putting him down, already feeling the massive ache in her back, “I know, I missed you too.”

Her eyes then flicked to the boy standing in the doorway too, his dad having a protective hand on the top of his back. “Hi.” Claire smiled, holding out her hand, “You must be Finn.”

“Yes.” He timidly spoke, offering her a small smile. He shook her hand with little enthusiasm, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”

“Yeah, ‘m Claire.” She smiled back before straightening up, “Well, thank you again. We should get going.”

“That your car?” Finn’s father nudged his head towards the blue Toyota and Claire exhaled, “Yes.”

“Hm.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes, “Have a good night.” She mumbled, not even waiting for his response. Atlas shouted a goodbye to Finn, waving excitedly before climbing into the passenger seat of the car. Claire checked her mirrors, avoiding the shocked eyes at all costs that her kid was getting in the front seat of the car.

Claire being the responsible parent she was couldn’t afford to fix the broken safety belts of the backseat, so Atlas drove up front with her. Backing out of the long driveway, she watched Finn and his father disappear back inside of the huge house.

“’M sorry, baby. Mum had to work late.” Claire yawned softly as they hit traffic again to drive home, “Did you have fun with your friend?”

“Yes, Finn’s really nice. A little quiet.” Atlas spoke. Claire hummed, “Are you hungry?”

“No! Harry made us dinner.”

“Harry.” Claire nodded, “That Finn’s dad?”

“Yes. He’s nice.”

Claire huffed and took a left, “Debatable.” She mumbled under her breath, not for Atlas to hear. The rest of the car ride was filled with Atlas’ babbles that Claire honestly loved. He spoke about nothing important most of the time but she loved hearing his voice and the way he saw the world, what observations he made. In her mind, she was already thinking about tomorrow though.

She had the Saturday-shift to cover too, so Atlas was spending the day with his father. The thought alone made Claire’s stomach clench but she tried to push it away. He deserved a shot at two parents and perhaps Evan really did deserve another chance to prove himself as a father.

The heavy door to the appartement hardly budged as Claire put her entire weight against it to open it up. The entire building shook as she did so, and she could tell the neighbours were listening to the news through the thin walls of this crappy building.

No one ever said it was this hard to be an uneducated, unsupported single mum.

With a heavy sigh, Claire ran her fingers through Atlas’ blonde whisps as he excitedly walked into their home. As always, both kicked off their shoes by the door and headed through the narrow hallway – passing both their bedrooms – towards the living area. Pizza boxes were on the counter from last night and Claire was glad Atlas had already eaten at his friend’s house because in all her haste, she even forgot to pick up groceries.

Ignoring the rumbling of her own stomach, she decided on a quick shower to feel fresh and clean again before snuggling up on the couch with Atlas to watch some of his favourite shows. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, refusing to go to sleep before her six year-old did.

Life was pathetic enough as it was.

She couldn’t shake the look of absolute judgement and despise she had received from Harry. Yes, she had forgotten to pick up her child after school. Yes, she had driven like a maniac and showed up at his door dressed in her Burger King outfit, hours late. Yes, they had been close on calling the cops on her.

But that didn’t make her a bad mother.

Claire sighed, gently stroking her fingers over Atlas’ forehead as he sucked on his thumb. It was a habit she tried to get him to shake, but simply didn’t have the energy to constantly point it out to him. He was too old to still be doing that, but part of Claire knew that even Atlas was traumatized from the shit he had witnessed as a baby and an infant.

It had taken Claire two years to get away from Evan and the past four years had been hell. And bliss at the same time.

She didn’t think she’d be a single mum at twenty-eight, making ends meet and having no savings to start something up. But Atlas was kind, fun and energetic. Now that he was a bit older, it was like having a mini-me. She could always talk to him and he was intelligent for his age, following along easily in the topics Claire spoke to him about. He was respectful albeit a little wild at certain times.

In his previous school they had called him a ‘wild child’ who ‘acted out because of the way his mother raised him’. Simply because he had learned the word ‘fuck’ from Claire and had yelled it out in class.

Once.

Claire thought she’d be done with the judgement, but after only a few weeks in his new school she could already sense it again. If not from the teachers, then definitely from the other parents. She was happy Atlas made friends so easily and that he was such an open, approachable kid, but she could really do without the critiques of the others.

It was on Monday that she saw Harry again.

After much whining from Atlas, Claire decided to drop him off at school herself for the first time. Along with all the other parents in line, she was crouched down in front of him to make sure everything was in his backpack for the day. She was parked with one wheel on the curb in front of a garage, so she really didn’t have much time.

Glancing around to check for police in the street, Claire hurried up and stuffed everything in his backpack, “There, you’ve got everything.”

“Thank you, mummy.” Atlas grinned. A dimple popped in his cheek, one of the things he inherited from Evan. Claire’s stomach turned at the memory. Another memory was the ache in her arm from the bruise she had there. A much more recent memory, from picking up Atlas on Saturday.

She wasn’t sure who had reacted worse to her being late for pick-up. Harry, who had stared her down and made her feel insignificant, or Evan, who had grabbed her and shoved her against the wall while yelling in her face.

“Good boy.” Claire proudly smiled, cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead, “You be good today, hm? Belle will be here to pick you up after school.”

Atlas’ face dropped, “Belle?” He pushed his bottom lip out into a pout, “Why not you?”

“I have to work, honey.” Claire sighed, “But I’ll be home for dinner.”

“But I don’t like Belle.” Atlas whined, “She stinks.”

Claire could feel a few pairs of eyes on her and rolled her lips inside of her mouth, “Well, that’s because she smokes so much. But I have to work, I’ve explained this to you.” Claire kept her voice down but Atlas whined louder, jutting out his lip, “But mummy!”

“Atlas.” Claire sternly whispered, shaking her head to him, “I’ll see you for dinner, end of discussion.”

He stared at the ground with a thick frown in his forehead, refusing to look at her, “Fuck.” He whispered.

Claire’s eyes widened, “Atlas! No,” She held up her finger, “you promised me you’d never say it again.” Her cheeks flamed up as the parents next to her had definitely heard that. Atlas shrugged while staring at the tips of his worn-out sneakers, “You say it all the time.”

“I’m an adult.” Claire sighed before scratching above her brow. Her hair was in a low bun and she wore jeans and a large hoodie, “Look, just go inside, hm? Class is about to begin, don’t want you to be late.”

Atlas didn’t look at her anymore, simply turned around and walked off. A lump formed in Claire’s throat as she watched him, and her hands fiddled with the sleeves of her jumper, “I love you! Have a good day!” She called after him, but he didn’t react. Exhaling a shaky breath, Claire tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hi!” She heard the voice from next to her, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”

Claire forced a smile, staring at the perfectly done make-up of one of the mums next to her, “Hi.” She nodded, “Yes, I’m Claire. Nice to mee you.”

“Hi, I’m Dolores.” The woman smiled back with her pearly white teeth, “One of my girls is in Atlas’ class. Betty.”

“Oh,” Claire raised her brows, “yeah, I think Atlas has mentioned her.”

Another mum joined the conversation, “So you’re Atlas’ mum, hm? We all thought it was that gothic sixteen year old.” She laughed, referring to Belle and her dark make-up and black clothes. Claire pressed her lips together, “No, that’s just his sitter. She lives in the building with us, so it’s easy.”

“Hm.” The third woman simply nodded, “Well, me and Dolores are off to have some coffee. Would you care to join?”

Claire forced a smile, “Thank you for the offer, but I have to get to work. It was nice to meet you.” She shot an awkward wave and turned around, stopping dead in her tracks when she near bumped into Harry. Claire was only eye level with his chest and shortly looked up, sending him a nod, “Hi.” She went to stride past him but Harry stopped her, turning around with her, “Nice outfit.”

She could hear the judgement in his voice and rolled her eyes before turning to face him, “Look, I could really do without all those comments of yours. I thanked you for looking after Atlas on Friday, there’s really no need for you to behave like that.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest while firmly keeping her feet on the ground. Harry wore a loose, grey cable knit jumper and some blue jeans that hung loosely around his legs. His hair was back in that little clip to keep it away.

The other mums were out of earshot and Harry frowned, taking a step closer to Claire, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She stood her ground although her voice wavered, “I know you think you’re better than me. And you probably are. Sue me for working a lot so I can provide for my kid. Sometimes it happens that I lose track of time or that I cover a shift. ” She bit before turning around and stomping off.

Harry watched her, scoffing under his breath. His eyes lingered as the blonde walked up to her horribly parked car, near flipping of another driver who honked at her for crossing randomly. The car moved from how harshly she slammed the door shut before she drove off. He shook his head to himself. That reckless driving with a six year-old next to her was dangerous.

He turned back with his hands in his pockets, feeling the eyes of the other mums on him. Harry was basically the only father who made it to drop-off moments. It caused most of the other mums to shoot their shot somehow and flirt with him, which he always rolled his eyes at.

He shot Finn one last wave, watching as he hurried up to walk next to Atlas. Both immediately broke out into a grin and Harry sighed, part of him wishing Finn could’ve found another friend in class. Finn was a little quiet and timid, which is why it surprised Harry that he gravitated towards someone as loud and extraverted as Atlas.

Before Atlas transferred schools, Finn never really mentioned many of his classmates. He often played by himself and never asked to invite anyone over for a playdate. Ever since a few weeks, he talked about Atlas all the time.

So when Harry saw the little blonde boy, waiting for his mum who had promised to pick him up, he took it upon himself to take him home and care for him until they got a hold of one of his parents. He had overheard the teachers talking about it, and only one name was on the call sheet.

Claire Carter.

A blonde-haired hurricane who showed up at his door by the time it was dark. The muted brown of her Burger King-outfit didn’t fit her or compliment her in any way. Even from the distance, Harry could see the fire in her eyes, hidden by a lot of fatigue.

But he didn’t really care in that moment. She had put her child in danger, and Harry could never imagine forgetting to pick up Finn from school or not notifying the teacher. He simply couldn’t understand how that happened.

He wasn’t able to keep his snide remarks down, somehow feeling so frustrated with her that she was so casual about fucking forgetting her child.

But he had quickly developed a soft spot for Atlas. Partly because he was making feel Finn so at ease, and partly because he was just a funny, goofy and playful kid. Harry had overheard them as they played together, and he constantly asked Finn questions. Asking how he was doing, asking if he felt okay, asking if he had a good day at school. It was gentle and caring.

Until he had heard Atlas slipping in a curse word and Harry’s eyes had widened tremendously.

After meeting his mum, he wasn’t really all that surprised anymore.

***

“Booze?” Harry frowned as Claire handed him the bottle of scotch.

She sheepishly shrugged, “You don’t drink?”

“Uh – no, I do.” Harry breathed, eyeing the label and seeing some knock-off version of cheap scotch. He cleared his throat, “’S just a bit of a weird gift to thank someone for looking after your kid.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to get you. Don’t think you need another stick to push up your ass.” Claire muttered and Harry glared at her, “Anything else?”

They were back in the same position. Claire was on the grass in front of Harry’s house as he stood in the doorway after Finn and Atlas ran inside. It was a Saturday and even though Claire had felt excited about spending a day with Atlas, he had asked her for a playdate with Finn.

And so here she was, dropping him off at his best friend’s house.

“No.” She breathed, “Not really. You’re just going to text me if I can come pick him up?”

Harry nodded, “Sure. Any allergies or something I need to be aware of for lunch?”

“No, he’s all good. Not a big fan of spinach if you were considering that.” Claire informed him. Harry softly nodded, “Fine then, bye.” He closed the door and Claire huffed, shaking her head. She hoped for Atlas’ sake that Finn wasn’t as much of a bitch as his father.

But disaster struck the moment Claire got in her car and tried to start it, only for her car the make the most pathetic noise and shut down.

“No.” She groaned, “God, please, no.” She tried again, jamming her key in it only to receive no response. Claire sat in the driver’s seat for a good ten minutes, simply refusing to get out and knock on Harry’s door again to ask him for help. She refused. Stubbornly, she sat in the seat until she got too bored and

Finally pushing her pride aside, she got out of the car in the scorching sun. Her arms crossed in front of her, she sighed while ringing Harry’s door again. He opened up with that same frown, “Forgot something?”

“I never left.” Claire deadpanned, “My car’s dead. Won’t start. Can I come inside to call a mechanic? It’s boiling.”

“I can feel that. ‘S like an oven.” Harry glanced outside before opening up the door wider, “Fine, come in.”

“Thank you.” She breathed. Harry cringed at her sandy shoes as she strolled through his hallway and straight into the kitchen like she had been here a billion times before. “Where are the kids?” She questioned while sitting down on a barstool.

“Yeah, make yourself at home, why don’t you.” Harry sarcastically spoke before leaning against the counter, “Upstairs. Finn’s got a playroom.”

“A playroom.” Claire nodded while scrolling her phone while searching for a mechanic, “Fancy.”

“Had to do something with my ex’s empty art studio.”

The comment made Claire flick her eyes up. Harry was staring out the window with his arms crossed. The stubble was more prominent now than a week before and the sun coming through definitely accentuated his prominent jaw and the shape of his lips. Claire put her phone down as she leaned her arms on the countertop, “Want to talk about it?”

Harry huffed softly, “No. Did you find a mechanic yet?”

“Do you know anyone in this neighbourhood? That I can like… afford.” Claire muttered the last part and Harry pressed his lips together, “Yeah, I’ll call my car guy. Don’t have to worry about money.”

“Your car guy?”

“Mhm.” Harry was on his phone, a concentrated frown on his forehead. Claire tilted her head to the side, “That’s… I mean, how often do you need a car guy?”

“Just sometimes.” Harry shrugged, “The old beetle outside gives up every once in a while. I call him and he comes here, it’s easy.”

“Both cars are yours?” Claire asked in clarification, and Harry hummed, “Yes.”

“Wow.” She mumbled, nodding to herself, “Must be nice.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her remark and then called his car guy, sharing a few quick words with him before hanging up again, “He’ll be here soon.”

Claire nodded, “Don’t you have jumper cables?”

“No, my car guy does.”

“Right.” She breathed. They were left in silence for a bit as the coffee was running. Harry hadn’t asked her if she wanted any, but poured her a cup either way and Claire didn’t complain. The longer the silence lasted, the more comfortable it became as both scrolled on their phones for a bit, the occasional sigh coming from Harry’s mouth.

Giggles and small feet carried themselves through the hallway.

“Daddy!!” Finn bubbled as both him and Atlas ran into the kitchen. Harry’s brows raised at the sight of his son, “Bub, where’s your shirt?”

“Atlas and I want to swim!” He ignored the question and Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “Now?”

Atlas excitedly jumped, “Swim!”

“Atlas.” Claire chuckled while shaking her head, “You don’t know how to swim.”

Harry flicked his eyes to hers, “He can’t swim?” And Claire shook her head, “No, he hasn’t been taught yet.”

“Hm.” Harry exhaled, “Uh – well, I have floaties. Finn, you should use them too.”

“But, daddy!” The boy whined, “I can swim!” He stomped his foot down and Harry huffed, “In a kiddie pool. Not in a pool this deep.”

Finn pouted and Claire fought her smile at how adorable he looked, “But, daddy…” He tried again, “you always come in the pool with me and swim with me and throw me around and then save me.” He explained. Claire’s lips curled up in a smile, “Oh, do you?” She flicked her eyes to Harry who scoffed slightly before crouching down to Finn’s level, “Buddy, I have to fix something with Atlas’ mum’s car, so I can’t come in the pool right now. Besides, I have some work to do in the office. I thought you guys would be nice and quiet for me today?”

“We can be quiet in the pool.” Atlas butted in and Harry shook his head, “It’s gonna be a no. I can’t supervise when you guys are in the pool and it’s too dangerous.”

“Mummy,” Atlas whispered, tugging on Claire’s sleeve. She turned to face him as Harry ruffled Finn’s hair, who couldn’t hide the disappointment for the life of him.

“Yes?” She smiled at Atlas, who nibbled his lip a little, “Why don’t we have a pool?”

Claire took a breath, “Because we live in an apartment.”

“Yeah.” Atlas lowered his eyes, “But I like being outside. Finn has a very big garden to play in.”

Claire’s heart clenched as she exhaled before pressing her lips together. Atlas looked at her with big, green eyes, expecting an answer she couldn’t give him. Claire couldn’t tell him she also really wanted a house with a garden and a pool and a dog, giving Atlas the room he craved to play and be wild. He had a lot of energy and no real way to get rid of that in their small, dingy apartment.

Harry saved her though, clearing his throat, “Atlas, you can borrow swimming trunks from Finn. You guys get in the pool for a while once I grab the floaties.” The cheers sounded loudly through the room even though Harry wasn’t finished yet, “Only for a little while!” He held his finger up, “I have to work!”

Before the final word had left his lips, Finn and Atlas had bolted out of the room and back up the stairs and Harry let out a sigh, checking his watch. Claire followed his gaze, noticing his bony fingers tapping on the countertop in thought. The veins wrapping around his arm led her eyes up to the tattoos on his skin.

“I can stay too.” She offered, taking a sip of her coffee.

Harry seemed snapped out of his thoughts, “Hm?”

Claire cleared her throat, “I can stay too. You said you need to get work done and I have a free day. I can stay by the pool with the boys. I don’t mind, if you don’t have the time for it.”

“I want to have the time for it.” Harry clarified and Claire nodded, “I know. But it’s fine if you don’t. You can’t have time for everything.”

Harry scratched his jaw in thought, “I don’t have like bathing suits here. Astrid took all her stuff.”

Astrid.

Claire shrugged, “I’m wearing black underwear. Decent enough, not like… a thong or anything.” She mumbled. Harry fought the flaming of his cheeks before huffing out a chuckle, “Or you could stay by the edge and just put your legs in.”

“Atlas doesn’t know how to swim. Floaties or not, I’m getting in the water with him.” Claire frowned.

Harry sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I mean – uh… If you don’t mind? I really have a project to finish today, I have to meet the deadline or I’m losing this client.”

“What is it that you do exactly?”

“I’m an architect.” Harry mumbled, clearly still lost in thought at Claire’s offer. He nibbled his lip as she nodded, digesting the information. It made sense. Harry worked from home and on his own schedule, which meant he was free to drop Finn off and pick him up from school all the time.

“And you didn’t have any other plans today? On your free day?”

Claire let out a breath, “I – uh… Seeing as Atlas asked for this playdate, I actually planned an actual date this afternoon.” She tilted her head to the side while squinting her eyes at her screen, “But judging by this guy’s texts… he’s about to cancel on me either way so, yeah.” She sighed and put her phone back down, forcing Harry a small smile.

He whistled teasingly, “A date, hm? Spicy.”

“Not all of us are a hundred years old.” She rolled her eyes and Harry huffed out a laugh, “How old do you think I am, Claire?” The playfulness in his tone was something Claire wasn’t used to from him. The Harry she had seen so far in their previous encounters, was uptight and moody. His dimple popped in his left cheek as he smirked slightly.

She faked a small smile back, “Considering your gigantic frown lines, I’d say nearing your forties.”

“Ouch.” Harry placed his hand on his chest, “You wound me. Thirty-four, actually, but thanks. I’ll make some changes to my skincare routine. Noted.”

Claire giggled and shook her head, “I was kidding.”

“Funny girl, aren’t you?”

Claire flicked her eyes up, sensing a shift in Harry’s tone. He had lose the tension in his shoulders, softly smirking at her now from the opposite side of the kitchen as he leaned against the countertop. She lowered her eyes again and Harry cleared his throat, “So, going on a date, hm? First date?”

“Yes.” Claire breathed, “First and last date, which is how it usually goes.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know,” She shrugged, her fingers toying together, “I show up in a pretty dress and flirt and play them a little. It’s all fun and games in the beginning until the real conversations start and it comes up that I’m a mother, raising Atlas by myself.”

Harry slowly nodded and Claire smiled, “You know, they’re usually fine with me having a son. Like, that’s alright mostly. But once they realize I don’t have a week-week schedule with my ex and actually have Atlas near every day, that’s where they draw the line. Like they don’t want to share.” She shrugged, “So that’s where it ends. I’m lucky if I can get some decent sex out of it. Which doesn’t happen often.”

Harry sputtered out a laugh at her bluntness before shaking his head to himself, “Wow. Yeah, I see why it sticks to one date. I could never be with someone who doesn’t appreciate Finn or doesn’t want to spend time with him.”

“It’s a package deal.”

He nodded in agreement, “Sure is.”

Claire leaned her elbow on the countertop and stared at him, “How about you?”

“Me?” Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “Nah. Eternal bachelor.”

She frowned while smiling, “I don’t believe that for a second. I know I’ve only been there to drop off Atlas once, but I could see all those soccer moms making eyes at you.”

“They’re all married.” He rolled his eyes, “And not my type.”

“Rich and beautiful is not your type?” Claire chuckled and Harry shrugged, “Apparently not.”

Silence fell over them again until Harry took a breath, “I’m gonna head up to the office. Grab whatever you want from the fridge or anything. There’s sunscreen in the bathroom and obviously the pool is outside. I’ll go grab the floaties from Finn’s room.”

“Yeah, okay.” Claire nodded. She checked her phone again, just seeing the message come in of her date, cancelling on her and asking to reschedule. She puckered her lips, remembering how he was some hot shot at an up and coming lawyer firm. She didn’t exactly expect him to have time for her on a Saturday.

With Harry’s footsteps heading up the stairs, Claire slowly got up from her barstool and roamed the kitchen. She stared out the window, seeing the pale blue pool in the large garden. It looked inviting, she had to admit. Even if it was nearing the end of September, it was exceptionally warm.

The house felt silent with both boys and Harry upstairs, and Claire’s feet took her to the crispy white living room. Every piece of furniture here looked like it was made by designers and she was nearly scared to touch anything. There weren’t much toys here and then Claire remembered Finn having a playroom upstairs.

As her eyes darted over the pictures on the wall, they stayed put on the brunette in some of the frames. There were about two of her and a younger Finn. The other ones were of Harry and Finn, or a standalone Finn.

Claire figured it was Astrid, Harry’s ex. She was beautiful, obviously. Looking at Finn, he was a gorgeous little boy with obvious great genes.

Just a few minutes later, Claire was outside with both excited boys. Finn and Atlas were around the same size, with Atlas just being a tad taller. Both wore little swimming trunks with either ducks or boats on them and stood perfectly still as Claire put sunscreen on them.

She didn’t see Harry staring at them from the window above. His laptop was open and he was drawing, he really was. Or he tried to. But he stood against the windowsill up on the first floor, staring down the length of his garden. The water of the pool looked inviting and he could see Finn’s wide grin from a mile away.

Claire grinned too, her blonde hair pinned back now with one of Harry’s ballpoints holding it together. It was inventive, he had to give her that. Her hands smoothed over Finn’s back to put the product on him before she gently slid the floaties around the boy’s arms. They both patiently waited at the edge of the pool, excited to jump in.

Harry’s leg twitched a little when his eyes were on her. She kicked off her shoes, a pair of mom jeans on her legs that she popped. The dryness in his throat once she slid the pants down her legs, was something Harry didn’t anticipate. Black underwear was revealed. Simple cotton with just a small lace border.

Harry thanked his impeccable eyesight to see every detail of Claire from a distance. She was shaped beautifully, with curvy thighs and a dip in her waist which was revealed as she lifted the navy top over her head to reveal an equally black bra.

He saw hints of a tattoo on the back of her shoulder, but Claire moved too quickly for Harry to notice it. Urging the boys to get in the pool, she elegantly got in with them.

A small smile tugged on Harry’s lips as he watched the first few minutes of their playing. Atlas and Finn mostly splashed around, ruining Claire’s plans to keep her hair dry. She tossed the ballpen to the side, ducking underneath the water to get in all the way.

She played with Atlas a bit, and Finn too. He laughed loudly as Claire threw him around a little bit, playing gently with him. They did a bit of a race where she purposely let him win while Atlas splashed a little more, without his swimming experience.

It was hours later, when Claire was fresh out of the pool and drying on the sunbed – with both boys running around the garden and giggling – that she felt a towel being dropped on her stomach. Her eyes snapped open in surprise and she squinted, Harry blocking the sunlight a little, “Hi.” He chuckled.

“Oh, hi.” She smiled, sitting up a bit and grabbing the towel, “Thank you.”

“’S fine.” His eyes glanced around the garden, “Did they have fun?”

Claire wrapped the towel around her to dry off, “Yeah. I don’t understand how they’ve got so much energy left, even I need a nap. Two is too much.”

“I’ve honestly never seen Finn this loud.” Harry smiled as his son ran through the garden with Atlas chasing him, “They’re pretty good friends.”

“They are.” Claire smiled as she followed his gaze, “Infectuous, really.”

“They didn’t give you too hard of a time?”

“Not at all. Finn’s a sweet a boy.”

Harry smiled as he nodded, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants, “He is.”

“How about you? Finished your project?”

“Yep.” Harry stretched his arms now, yawning a little, “I need a nap too.” He joked.

Claire got up with a mischievous glint in her eyes, the towel around her form as she took a few steps closer to Harry. He involuntary took a few back, but she was still close enough that he could see the freckles on her nose and the remains of an old scar above her brow.

“What are you doing?” He spoke in a strained voice, taking a few steps back still to create some distance. He could feel himself breaking out into a sweat when Claire just continued to step closer to him. “Claire.” He pushed.

“You know what’s a great substitute for a nap?” She purred, daring to take another step closer to him. She could inhale his perfume and Harry held his breath when she batted her lashes. He swallowed thickly, “Hm?”

“A dip in the water.” She smiled, using a hand that she placed against his covered chest to give him a shove back. Harry’s eyes widened as he lost his balance, “Wh- Wait!” He yelped, reaching his arm out. Claire laughed, hardly caring that Harry managed to take a hold of her wrist and pull her in. Unlike him – who made a gigantic splash as he tumbled down – Claire managed to get in a dive and dip in elegantly.

The coolness of the water did wake Harry up immediately and he sputtered out as he reached the surface, shaking his hair out with his clothes completely soaked. Claire was laughing as she quickly took the towel to throw it on the grass and get it out of the water.

“Oh my god!” Harry laughed, splashing water at Claire, who giggled. Harry flicked his eyes to their two boys who seemed unaware, chuckling as he shook his head, “You dick.”

Claire gasped in fake shock, “Are you cursing?”

Harry rolled his eyes as he swam back over to the side, pushing himself out of the pool. Claire was mesmerized for a second, watching the way his shirt clung to him. The muscles in his back bulged as he pushed himself up, showing off every ridge.

“Shit.” Harry chuckled, opening up the buttons of his shirt, “I can’t believe you pushed me in the pool. What are you, six?”

Claire grinned and also got out of the water, feeling Harry’s eyes on her as she wrung out her hair, “No, twenty-eight.”

“You wouldn’t say.”

Claire stuck out her tongue and Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Brat.” He scoffed, “’M gonna grab towels.” He turned around to head into the house, his pants soaking wet and his shirt off. The light reflected off his muscular back and Claire near drooled. Harry handed her another fluffy towel and both sat down on the sunbed.

“So around what time are you going to offer me a drink?” Claire teased and Harry hummed, “I don’t drink around Finn.”

“Well, ‘m not gonna get blind drunk but I wouldn’t say no to some pink wine.”

“Yeah, not blind drunk, just…” He shrugged, “I don’t want to give the wrong example.”

Claire leaned back on her hands, letting herself dry in the heat of the burning sun, “Having a drink every once in a while isn’t setting the wrong example, Harry. You’re an adult.” She shrugged, “I mean, it’s your own decision obviously, but it’s impossible to be responsible all the time around your child.”

“Responsible…” Harry mused, “Like remembering to pick them up from school?”

“Dick.” Claire chuckled, nudging her shoulder into his playfully. Harry grinned, staring at the pool as the boys played still. Harry had changed out of his pants and put on some swimming trunks this time, in case Claire decided to shove him in the pool again. His hair was wet and dripping down his back, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you again for that. Work just got… in the way.”

Harry turned his head to the side to watch her, “Don’t have to thank me again, that’s not why I said it. Was just making a joke.”

“I know.”

“You work a lot, don’t you? At Burger King?”

Claire exhaled a breath, “It’s not the most glamorous job and it doesn’t pay that much. But yes, I work a lot. I take a lot of shifts and often work weekends or late nights.”

“Is Atlas by himself when you work?”

“No,” Claire breathed, “I’m not that terrible of a mum.” Her voice held a hint of bitterness and she pressed her lips together, “There’s a young girl in my building who babysits for him. She’s like… seventeen maybe and she dropped out of school. She’s always available. The other mums said they’d seen her around to pick him up sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah…” Harry nodded, “like dark make-up, black hair?”

“Mhm, that’s Belle.”

“Isn’t it like… counter-productive? You have to pay her and then work while having to do so…”

“I earn more than whatever I have to pay her.” Claire mumbled, “Like I said, she’s not that expensive. I keep more than I have to give her.”

Harry nodded, “Right.” There was silence for a moment, “Look, ‘m sorry about giving you a hard time last week. I didn’t mean to like… shame you or anything.”

“No, I get it. It’s everyone’s first impression of me, trust me.” She chuckled, “That judgement is exactly why I pulled him out of his previous school, though. He heard people talking that I was never there, that I was leaving him on his own, that I wasn’t fit to be a parent. It’s painful because I’m really doing this all for him.”

Harry nodded again, listening to her. Claire fiddled with her fingers, “Like what he said about the pool earlier, you heard, right?"

“Mhm. I did.”

“Well, I want that too. I want to give him everything, I want him to have a nice childhood and I want to spend time with him. But I don’t have an education so I can’t really go for high-paying jobs. Just have to take what I can get and hope for flexible hours to be there for him.”

“You’re doing a lot, Claire.” Harry sympathized, “Seriously, ‘m sorry. I-I judged way too quick.”

“That’s fine.” She shot him a sly smile, “Happens when you’re old.”

Harry smiled and shook his head to himself, “And hey… I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you drop him off here whenever you have to work late or want some time for yourself? Finn and Atlas can spend time together, he could even stay the night if you want. And you don’t have to pay me.”

“What?” Claire frowned.

“I’m serious.” He shrugged, “It’s nice for Finn to have a friend. They’re joined at the hip.” Harry glanced over his shoulder to see both boys giggling together, a smile tugging on his lips, “I think they’d like it. He could eat here or I could grab him after school, bring him here. You can just come pick him up whenever you’re finished.”

Claire tilted her head to the side with a frown, “But… Don’t you have to work? Or go places?”

“Not really, to be honest.” Harry admitted, “I’m home all the time. A lot has changed since my divorce and I don’t have much of a social life anymore, just put Finn first. Wanted him to grow up with at least one present parent after all the arguing he had to witness as a baby. And I work for myself, got flexible hours. I work when he’s at school or when he goes to bed at night.”

Claire stared at him, “I-I mean… If you’re sure.”

“Of course.” Harry smiled, “Dead sure. You can even go on your dates on Saturday nights, or something.” He teased softly and Claire bit her lip, “You’re right. I can. I should text that guy to reschedule."

He hummed, “You can.” He then turned to face her, “So we’ve got a deal?”

Claire nibbled her lip, “And… you’d want nothing out of it?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, “Just doing it for Finn. And Atlas is a nice kid, Claire. He’s a good influence to bring Finn out of his shell.”

She smiled softly, her bubbly boy being a good influence made her so proud. “Okay. Then I guess we have a deal.”

They stupidly shook hands before bursting out in giggles. Claire hummed, bumping her shoulder into his again, “You’re not that bad, you know?”

“I know.” Harry playfully responded, “Neither are you."

“You’re the first mum-friend I’ve ever made in my life.”

“Oh god.” Harry groaned, “Don’t call me your mum-friend.”

Claire threw her head back in a laugh and Harry leaned back a little bit too, his eyes finally catching the ink on the back of Claire’s shoulder now that her hair dried a bit. He could see now, that it was a tattoo for Atlas. Literally a tattoo of Atlas, who carried the world. It was simple, and even a little disturbed with some dark bruises around it.

Harry swallowed, but decided not to comment on it.

***

“Hi, Harry!” Atlas bubbled as he waved at Harry. He was leaning against his car, sunglasses up his nose as he waved back, “Hi, bud.”

“Atlas!” Claire panted as she came running from across the street – having done another horrible parking job with her car. Harry smiled as she ran up to Atlas, crouching down to catch him in a hug. Atlas ran straight into her arms with a giggle and Claire hugged him, stroking his back, “Hi, baby. How was your day?”

“Good!” He smiled widely. Claire pressed a kiss to his cheek as she smiled.

“Bye Atlas! See you soon!” Finn’s voice sounded as he ran up to Harry, and Claire straightened up as she shot him a wave, “Oh, hi. Didn’t see you.”

Yeah, hey.” He smiled back, “Been here a while, I like to be early, Finn doesn’t like to wait.”

“Are you sure it’s still okay for tonight?”

He nodded, “Yep, ‘s fine.” Harry ruffled Atlas’ hair, “Gonna come over for a movie night, bud?”

“Can we watch Toy Story?!” Atlas excitedly gasped and Harry groaned a little under his breath, recovering quickly as he rolled his lips inside of her mouth, “Mhm.”

Claire chuckled, “Are you sure?” She softly asked him and Harry nodded again, “Positive, really. It’ll be fun.”

Her hair was up in a clip again, whisps of hair flying around. She wore a jumper even if it was boiling, and Harry could tell she was still wearing the Burger King shirt underneath, some of the muted brown sticking out of the neckline of her jumper. Claire took Atlas’ hand and waved at Harry and Finn, “See you tonight!”

“Bye!” Harry waved back, and Finn did too. As Harry urged Finn into the backseat, Dolores walked up to him. With her fresh bob-cut and perfect make-up, she sent him a smile, “Hi, Harry.”

“Dolores.” He nodded. She eyed him up and down, “Did I overhear you talking to Claire for a moment there?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded, “Mhm.” There was no point in lying about it, all eyes had been on them just a minute before. His eyes flicked to the other side of the street where Claire slammed her car door to drive off, not putting on her blinkers before she sped off. He wanted to roll his eyes at her driving behaviour but also knew he was super extreme with his careful driving.

“You know…” Dolores lowered her voice and came a little closer as Harry closed Finn’s car door. He straightened up and Dolores shortly glanced around, “There has been some talk. You know, a new mum… people always talk.” She shrugged as if it was the most normal thing. Harry stiffly nodded, “Naturally.” He vividly remembered all the gossip when word got around about what happened between him and Astrid.

“And well,” Dolores tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Natalie heard that Claire has a past in drug abuse.” She was near whispering now, “And that she was married to a dealer.”

Harry let out a soft sigh, “Right.” He hardly listened, if he was honest. He knew better. Word got around quickly here, but everything got changed and manipulated. He knew better than to believe everything he heard around this town.

Dolores cleared her throat, “And that she was using while being pregnant. That poor boy… I mean, it’s clear that he’s got ADHD, and that could be a result of her abusing drugs while pregnant.”

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, “Dolores,” He sighed, “even if it’s true, who cares? It’s her life and it’s been six years since she was pregnant. Let’s not meddle.” He simply spoke, forcing her a small smile.

“I’m just warning you,” Dolores put her hand on Harry’s arm and he flicked his eyes down to the touch with a frown in his forehead. Dolores swallowed, “She’s around Finn, Harry. Think about the influence…”

Harry cleared his throat and pulled his arm away, walking around his car to get behind the wheel, “Bye, Dolores.”

She opened her mouth to say more, but Harry was already in his car with the door closed. He didn’t spare her another glance before he drove off.

A few hours later, someone rang his door. Claire was fiddling with the top button of her dress as she waited for Harry to open his door. Atlas was by her side, excited for his movie night here as she had rescheduled with her date for tonight.

She was sort of excited, it had been a while since she had gone out. Her work schedule didn’t allow her to and she wanted to spend most nights with Atlas. Knowing he wasn’t just in the apartment with Belle scrolling on her phone, but was spending time with his friends eased her guilt a little of leaving him alone.

The lock clicked as Harry appeared, flashing a grin at Atlas, “Hey!”

“Hi, Harry!” He grinned back before turning to Claire, “Bye, mummy!!” He hardly waited for her response before sprinting into the house he knew rather well by now. Claire chuckled, “Yeah, bye. Love you too.”

Harry leaned against the doorpost, shortly scanning her outfit. He was used to seeing Claire either in her Burger King outfit or in jeans and a shirt. Now, she wore a dress. And make-up. It was clear to him she was making an effort. The slippers on her feet made his brows raise though, “Is he super short or something?” He nudged his head towards her feet.

Claire followed his eyes, “Oh, no, I don’t think so. I just can’t drive in heels so I’ll switch my shoes when I arrive.” She explained, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder, “By the way, if I’m done before midnight, I’m coming back over to pick him up.”

“In the middle of the night?” Harry frowned.

“Yeah, we sort of have our morning routing, Atlas and I. So I prefer picking him up and letting him sleep the rest of the night in his own bed. What time do you usually go to bed?”

Harry scratched his chin, “Yeah, around midnight.”

“Okay, but I’ll text you. Maybe he sucks and I’ll be back in an hour.”

His lips curled up in an amused smirk, “What’re dealbreakers to you, Claire?”

“I’d love to go over the list with you,” She grabbed a lipstick from her purse and blindly put it on, painting them a soft cherry red before rubbing them together, “but I’m going to be late if we get into that.”

Harry’s eyes zeroed in on Claire’s lips and he huffed out a chuckle, “Fine. Well, have fun. Be safe. Let me know when you’d come pick up Atlas.”

“Will do! Thank you.” Claire spun on her heel and headed back to her car, driving off the driveway to head to her date. Harry watched, feeling only slightly wary of her going by car instead of being picked up. He wondered if she’d drink during dinner and then drive, picking up Atlas to drive with him.

Dolores’ words ran through his head over and over again before he shook his head to himself and headed inside.

He checked his phone a few times, but Claire was actually having an okay time on her date. The guy who worked at the lawyer firm was charming and showed up in a suit. A bit stiff, Claire thought. And she was definitely underdressed. Her black dress looked classy but was cheap as fuck, and the buttons around her chest seemed near ready to pop.

His eyes were drawn to her tits most of the time as he drank the one scotch after the other. Their conversations started pleasantly and Claire got it out of the way first, immediately notifying him of the fact she had a six year-old son. He hadn’t responded much to it, just hummed and said it was cool.

As the evening progressed, Claire got a bit of an ick though. He seemed to talk mostly about herself and when he ended up not asking one single question about Atlas, Claire decided for herself that this was not it. He was near drunk once they finished their dinner and headed outside. He sloppily tried to kiss her and she turned him down, even having to stifle her laugh when he casually suggested they hook up just once.

He also called her a prude when she refused. Rolling her eyes, Claire got in her car. Before driving off, she quickly texted Harry.

Message to: Harry (Finn’s dad)

Coming back from the restaurant now, I’ll be there in twenty.

It was nowhere near midnight, but just past ten thirty in the evening. Claire had only been on her date a good few hours but it had felt like forever. With the window down, she drove up to Harry’s house again after another disappointing night. It had been the one shitty date after the other in the past few months.

Most lights in the house seemed off as Claire pulled up, getting out in her slippers and softly knocking on the door as to not alert the sleeping children. She heard footsteps, and soon Harry opened up. He looked a little sleepy and Claire suspected he had dozed off on the couch before she texted him that she was coming back.

“Hi.” She bit her lip, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

He stifled a yawn, “You didn’t. Put the boys to bed not too long ago and I was reading a little bit.” He opened the door wider for her, “Come in. How was the date?”

“Horrible.” Claire huffed, following him into the kitchen. Harry hummed, “Want some coffee? Or water? There’s also some dinner leftover if you want.”

“It actually smells so good in here.” Claire hummed, “If you’ve got any left, I’d like to.”

“Sure, I’ll heat some up. Tell me about the guy.”

Claire pushed herself up to sit on the countertop, “Well, he was just…” She shrugged, “Boring. And arrogant. He only talked about himself, was just overall rude and he drank so much, god… I hope he didn’t yet have to drive.”

Harry smiled softly at her words as he put a plate in the microwave. “How responsible of you.” He teased, repeating the words from last week that she had mocked him with. Claire smiled and rolled her eyes, “Hey, I have morals.”

“Hm.” Harry hummed, remembering Dolores’ words again. He turned around, “Here you go. Atlas really liked it.”

“Holy shit. Did you make this yourself?”

“Think I’ve got some private chef here, Claire?”

She shrugged, “Honestly, yes.” Her fork poked into a piece of chicken as she stuffed it in her mouth.

“Nah, I’m quite an okay cook. I like cooking actually.” Harry went to sit on the opposite countertop, his legs dangling over the edge as they were in the dimly lit kitchen, “Go on now, tell me five positive things about the date.”

“Five?” Claire’s eyes widened, “Uh…” She chewed for a bit, “well, one… he paid. So that was nice.” She narrowed her eyes in thought and Lennon chuckled softly, “Only one?”

“No, no, wait, let me think.” Claire shook her head, “Oh, well, he didn’t shame me when I wanted to have dessert. And when I said I had a kid, he said it was cool.”

“Cool?” Harry frowned, “That’s supposed to be a positive thing? The bar is very low.”

“It’s on the floor, let’s be honest.”

“So I assume it’s safe to say there won’t be a second date.”

Claire scrunched her nose, “Definitely not. He tried to kiss me and suggested sex.”

Harry’s brows raised, “Seriously? Bold.”

“You’d be surprised, dating isn’t the same as it was ten years ago.”

He hummed, “Apparently. Thank god I don’t have to go through that.” He shook his head to himself. He knew it could be brutal out there. Hell, Astrid had made it brutal for him. The thought of her left his stomach in clenches and he quickly pushed it all away.

“Harry, this is really good. Wow.” Claire near moaned as she ate more food and Harry smiled, “Thanks.” He felt proud at her compliment and shyly glanced down. Claire swallowed her bite, “So what did you three do tonight?”

“Watched Toy Story. Twice.”

Claire sputtered out a giggle, “No way.”

“Atlas is quite persuasive.” Harry chuckled, “But I was reading a little throughout. They were nice and quiet though, had some popcorn. They wanted to swim but I said no.”

“Stern.” Claire nodded and Harry shrugged, “Some might say, yes.”

Claire crossed her legs over one another and leaned back, “So… I’m curious. If you never go on a date, how long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

Harry chuckled to himself while shaking his head, “Nope. None of your business.”

Claire shrugged, “Fair enough.”

They sat in silence for a bit until Claire decided to head home. Harry guided her up the stairs to show the spare room where Atlas was sleeping. He was dazed until he laid eyes on his mum, a wide grin spreading over his face. Claire carried him downstairs and gently put him in the car before thanking Harry again and driving off.

***

“Thank you so much for watching him.” Claire breathed as she was at the door in her Burger King outfit. She looked exhausted, Harry noticed. Her hair was a little messy and she had bags under her eyes. It was a Thursday and almost a week after she had dropped Atlas off here to go on her date.

He hadn’t seen much of her throughout the week, or just shortly to pick up Atlas after school. Today, she had to pick up another shift so Harry took Atlas home after school to hang out with Finn.

“’S no problem.” Harry shrugged, “I’ve told you, Atlas is a nice kid to have around. He’s polite.”

“Yeah.” Claire tiredly smiled, “Can you go grab him?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, “Mhm. Or – uh… we were just about to have dinner. You can join if you want.”

“That’s really nice,” Claire sighed, “but you’re already doing way too much for us. And I desperately need to shower.”

“I have showers.” He shrugged.

“Showers? Multiple?”

He chuckled, “Yes. C’mon,” he urged her, nodding his head inside the house, “it’ll be nice for the boys.”

It’s what he went with. That it was nice for the boys. Really trying to ignore the fact that it’d be nice for him too. Claire was easy to talk to and not as uptight or fake like all the other mums in the school. She was blunt and unapologetic, but very straightforward and without bullshit. He appreciated that now, whereas he didn’t at first.

She was trying her best, he could see that.

Claire eventually caved, nodding her head. She wore that horrific Burger King fit and Harry showed her where everything was in the bathroom, handing her a pair of joggers and a shirt of his.

The four of them sat around the dinner table later, with Claire only being slightly uncomfortable at how underdressed and casual she was. The clothes Harry handed her felt nice and soft, but she wasn’t used to having dinner in pyjamas with wet hair laying on her back and with anyone else besides Atlas.

“I have a question,” Harry popped, narrowing his eyes at Claire, “Do you ever eat burgers?”

She chuckled, shaking her head, “Absolutely not. Can’t stand burgers anymore. Besides, I see how they’re made and let me tell you… it’s a big no. I’m in the smell of it all day and I just…” She shuddered, “Nope.”

They fell silent again with just Finn and Atlas whispering something to one another until Finn nodded and cleared his throat, “Claire?” He spoke in a small, soft voice. Claire swallowed her bite and turned, “Yes?”

Finn looked a little nervous, shifting in his chair as he put his fork down and a slight flush rose over his cheeks, “Atlas said I could come to your house.”

Claire frowned slightly, shortly flicking her eyes to Atlas before clearing her throat, “I’m… what?”

“We always come here. I want to show Finn where we live.” Atlas piped up. Claire felt her cheeks heating up a little bit in embarrassment as she stared at her plate. Harry hummed, “That could be fun. Maybe we could all have dinner at your place?”

Claire licked her lip, refusing to look him in the eye, “That’s…well, that’s not possible. I-I don’t have a table that can fit four people.” She mumbled softly. Her shoulders slumped a little bit and Harry paused mid-chew to watch her as she kept her eyes on the food in her plate.

“Atlas, baby, we don’t really have the room for you and Finn to play the way you can here, right?” She softly spoke to her son.

Atlas pouted and Claire forced him a small smile, “Maybe some other time, yeah?”

“But I want to show him where we live.” Atlas murmured in a trembling voice, nearly on the verge of tears. Claire turned to him and kept her voice soft, “I know. But you know how mummy always says we won’t live there for too long? Because it’s so small and loud and dark?” She near whispered to Atlas, who nodded and sniffled once, “Well, maybe we should wait until we live somewhere nicer.”

“Are you poor?” Finn’s voice sounded curious and Claire’s eyes widened.

“Finn!” Harry scolded in shock, “You can’t ask people that!”

Finn looked completely horrified at the sudden volume his father used to talk to him. He stared at Harry with large, green eyes and even his lip was trembling, “B-But Atlas comes to school with dirty clothes.” He near whispered, sounding nervous. Claire’s stomach dropped and Finn sniffled again, “And we share my lunch because he’s still hungry after his.”

“Stop!” Harry snapped, his fist coming down on the table. Finn jumped up with a gasp in surprise and then burst into tears, scrambling from the table to run off. Claire held her breath as she stared at Harry, his fist clenched as he exhaled a sharp breath, “Shit.” He grumbled under his breath.

Claire swallowed and turned to Atlas, “Do you want to go check up on Finn, baby? Tell him his daddy’s not mad at him and neither am I? That we’re all okay?”

Atlas also seemed surprised with Harry’s outburst and timidly nodded before leaving the table to find Finn in the house. The moment he was out of sight, tears spilled from Claire’s eyes. She turned her head away from Harry, hiding it as she hastily wiped underneath her eyes. Her fingers trembled, repeating in her head what Finn had said.

That Atlas showed up with dirty clothes to school and not enough lunch, to the point he was still hungry and ate from the other kid’s lunchboxes.

“Claire.” Harry exhaled and she ignored him, her brain spinning. She was trying so hard. And all this time, she thought she had been doing good. That Atlas was at least happy even if they didn’t have all that much. But people talked, and soon enough the same thing would happen like it had done in his three previous schools. Word would get around, parents would tell their kids not to hang out with him and he’d be bullied.

Harry scooted his chair closer to hers, “Claire,” He repeated, “look at me.”

She pressed her lips together and flicked her eyes up. Harry noticed the wetness in her waterline, the red rimming around her lids. She was exhausted and sad, and it was written all over her face. He wasn’t sure what to do, so gently patted her knee, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” She shook her head, “it’s not his fault. I just – uh… I didn’t know.” She simply shrugged, staring down again, “We’re always in such a hurry in the mornings a-and I just grab whatever clothes of his I can find. And sometimes I don’t have time to do laundry in the weekends. And I swear, he fucking grows all the time, it’s like I have to buy new shirts every other week.” She tiredly scratched her forehead.

Harry listened to her soft rambling and Claire shook her head, “He’s never complained.” Her voice was a little raspy, “about being hungry, or not having enough food. He’s never mentioned it to me.”

“I’m sure Finn was exaggerating.” Harry murmured back, holding his hand on her knee now to give a gentle squeeze, “It maybe happened once. He’s an energized kid who eats a lot, I’ve noticed it here too. I’m sure that if he truly was hungry after lunch every single day, he would’ve told you. You guys are close, right?”

“Yeah.” Claire nodded, “He usually tells me everything.”

“See? I’m sure it’s not that bad. And so what he has a stain on his shirt? He’s a wild kid, always playing and running around… he’s bound to fuck up his clothes.”

Claire listened to him and really tried to hear him, but fresh tears welled in her eyes, “I’m really trying, Harry.” Her tone was shaky and he cooed, “I know. Fuck, I know. I can see it first-hand.”

“Shit.” Claire murmured as she buried her face in her hands and her shoulders trembled in quiet sobs. Harry squeezed her knee and then moved his hand up to her shoulder, “Hey, c’mere.” He urged her to stand up and Claire did so, letting herself be pulled into his chest for a hug. Her forehead was pressed to his clavicle as she sobbed into him, Harry’s arms rubbing up her back to comfort her and shush her softly.

“You’re doing incredible, Claire. And Atlas loves you so much.” He held her body to his, feeling as she weakly cried, both in exhaustion and in feeling powerless. It was a few minutes later that Harry swallowed, “And if you ever need help with money or anything…” He knew the moment he said it, that she’d refuse.

Claire sniffled and shook her head while being pressed to him, “We’ll be fine.”

“O-Or maybe your parents or something?”

“They cut me off. I haven’t been in contact with them since they knew I was pregnant.” Her voice was soft and Harry pressed his lips together, giving her another squeeze, “And doesn’t your ex need to pay? For Atlas?”

Claire sighed out into his neck, “You’d think so. The lawyers are working on it because he refuses to pay. But those things take so long, I’m not even hopeful anymore I’ll ever see a dime.”

It made Harry hate him even more. He had heard little bits about Evan, Atlas’ dad, from Finn. Not much, nothing detailed, just that Atlas didn’t see him that much and that he lived in the area. Any piece of information that Harry found out, made his blood boil. He couldn’t understand how he wouldn’t make an effort to hang out with Atlas, who was such a fun little boy to be around. Harry found there was nothing more satisfying than watching his son grow up and he couldn’t imagine missing it for the life of him.

“Well, you can always ask me. I won’t question it.” Harry concluded and Claire sniffled, “Thank you.”

They stood embraced for another good few minutes until Claire untangled herself, “I’m fine.” She took a breath, through most of her crying as she shot Harry an unconvincing smile, “I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” He nodded.

***

Message from: Claire

He’s wearing boat shoes. I don’t know what to do.

Harry chuckled at the screen of his phone as Finn had his head laying in his lap. Atlas was curled up in the couch too, eyes glued to the screen as they were having another Friday movie night. And Claire was out on a date.

It was nearing November now, and their little deal had been going on for a few months. Claire didn’t go out every weekend, but at least every other weekend. And Harry took Atlas here for the night to hang out with Finn so she could go on her date.

It was safe to say that it usually wasn’t that big of a success. Claire would text him underneath the table about all the horrible things they’d say or do and then come here to pick up Atlas. It resulted in at least an hour of gossiping and laughing before she eventually left and he’d watch her drive off in the darkness of the night.

Message to: Claire.

What colour are they?

His phone soon buzzed with a response.

Message from: Claire.

Who cares!! We’re in the city, not on a fucking boat!

Harry laughed again, shaking his head to himself as he stroked his fingers through Finn’s hair. He had a book next to him but found himself almost more interested in the movie playing. Tangled. It wasn’t half bad, to be honest.

Harry hardly noticed it as Atlas crawled closer to him until bumping his head into Harry’s bicep. He glanced to his side to see the blonde-haired little boy with half-tired eyes, cuddled into a blanket.

Harry hesitated for a moment before opening his arm and Atlas didn’t wait a second, simply nuzzled into Harry’s side with a content sigh. Harry’s heart felt full, with Atlas cuddled into him on one side and Finn resting on his lap. He gently stroked his fingers over Atlas’ head and the boy melted into him even more. There was trust here, after weeks and weeks of spending time together. Atlas was incredible, Harry had come to find out. He was clever and witty, making Finn laugh louder than Harry had ever heard.

Atlas was definitely more on the mischievous side where Finn was rather timid and quiet, but they compensated the other very well. And had grown to be very close friends.

Harry’s phone buzzed softly.

Message from: Claire.

Okay, I’m out of here. He just asked how much I make a month and if I can get him free burgers.

Harry snorted softly and typed back.

Message to: Claire.

Yeah, sounds like your cue to leave. You can catch the final bit of the movie if you’re lucky.

The movie progressed and before Harry truly and well realized it, the three of them were dozed off on the couch. Only when he heard the soft footsteps in the house – after he had showed Claire where he kept the spare key – did his eyes blink open.

Claire watched him with an amused smile, eyes darting over Atlas and Finn who were both asleep on parts of his body.

“This is cute.” She whispered. Harry yawned softly, “Sorry, fell asleep.”

“I can see that.” She sat down on the couch next to Atlas and stroked his back, “Baby?”

Atlas nuzzled further into Harry and Claire shook her head with a smile, “He’s taking the moment to his advantage.”

“He can’t cuddle you like that?”

“No,” Claire exhaled, “hurts my boobs.”

Harry chuckled, “Right. So I take it the date wasn’t a success?”

“A big fat no.” Claire sighed, “God, where am I supposed to meet a decent guy these days. I swear, every app I have downloaded has only lead me to horrible evenings like this. Maybe I should just stay single forever.”

“Yeah, come over to the dark side. It’s fun here.” Harry joked and Claire leaned back in the couch. She wore a sundress with sleeves tonight, pushing it a little in these rather cold temperatures. But Harry had yet to see her in pants whenever she went on a date, it was always a dress.

“So boat shoes…” Harry mused and Claire groaned, “I know.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t flip-flops. Like that guy you went out with a few weeks back.”

“Am I supposed to see the silver lining here?”

Harry smiled and it was quiet for a moment, “You want a drink? Or some food?”

Claire yawned, “No, thanks. I think we’re just going to go home.”

“Really?” His voice jumped a little, “I mean,” Harry shrugged while clearing his throat, “you could stay a bit. Or sleep in the guest room with Atlas. He’s asleep anyway.”

“Harry,” Claire laughed, “I know we’re friends but we’re a bit too old for sleepovers, no?”

Friends.

Well, that hurt.

Harry didn’t protest when Claire gently woke Atlas up, who immediately cuddled into her instead. She kissed his forehead, “Wanna go home?”

“Mhm.” He sleepily responded. Claire picked him up, wincing a bit at the ache in her back. Atlas weighed a bit too much to still be carried by her, but he was too sleepy. Harry gently nudged Finn off, who didn’t wake and rested on a pillow instead, before he let Claire and Atlas out.

“Bye.” He waved in a whisper and Claire waved back once she put Atlas in the passenger seat, “Bye!”

Harry groaned to himself once Claire was out of sight. Friends. Friends. God damn it. He knew it. He had let it go on for too long and now he was friendzoned. He was literally her mum-friend, the one she gossiped to about other guys. Holy fuck.

Harry ran his palms over his face and sighed out, picking up Finn from the couch to carry him to bed and then go to sleep himself.

With the colder temperatures approaching, the next few weeks consisted of thicker clothes and spending less time outside. It got a bit harder for Harry to entertain the boys as they couldn’t go in the pool or play outside too much. It was basically waiting for snow now.

December just rolled in and Harry was sitting in his car, waiting for Finn to be done with school and to take him home. He used to always wait outside his car but it was too cold now, so he waited inside. His eyes scanned the street in search of Claire’s old Toyota. They had seen each other on Friday after she came back from another date, dressed in heels, stockings and a skirt. It was a cute look on her, accentuating her figure.

She said it wasn’t horrible this time but there wasn’t really a connection there, so it would stick to the one date. Harry hummed at that, and he couldn’t really say he minded all that much. He found himself looking forward to her texts, or the moments she’d come home after another disappointment of a date, spilling to him. Even if he was in the friend zone, it still cheered him up to see her.

Dare he say, it was the highlight of his week right now.

So he scanned the streets, not seeing her car. Not when the bell rang and the children were let out. Harry exited his car, a wide grin on his face as Finn ran over to him excitedly.

“Hi, m’love.” Harry crouched down to take Finn into a hug, spotting a blonde head of hair in the corner of his eye. He patted Finn on the shoulder, “Do we need to take Atlas home today?”

Finn shook his head, “No, he said someone’s picking him up.”

Harry frowned slightly, scanning the line of parents until he spotted Atlas, walking over to a girl with black hair and a cigarette between her fingers. She hardly paid him attention and his head was a little low. Soon enough, they made way to the bus station and disappeared from sight.

Harry refrained from texting Claire that night. It could be crossing a line, asking if she was okay. They had never really done that before and usually texted in a very casual way or to discuss picking up Atlas.

He didn’t see her the remainder of the week and it was nearing Christmas break now. Although Harry vowed to never pull his kid into this, he couldn’t help himself but question Finn on Friday.

“So… Are you sad that Atlas hasn’t been here all week?” He asked as they were having dinner, just the two of them.

Finn shrugged. He wasn’t a kid to speak out of line, which is why the poor-comment he made about Claire shocked Harry so much. He had raised Finn to be very polite and respectful. He had taught him that whenever a friend told him a secret, he were to keep it to build an keep the trust. It’s why he felt like guilty now, prying.

“He said it’s busy at home.” Finn answered and Harry flicked his eyes to him, “Busy?”

“Mhm.” Finn nodded, “With his mummy. He says she’s not feeling too well so he stays with her.”

Harry slowly nodded, “That’s nice of him.”

“It is.” Finn agreed.

Silence fell over the dinner table and Harry cringed at himself, unable to let the topic go, “Did Finn mention why Claire’s feeling a little poorly?”

Finn softly shrugged as he poked his food, “He says her face hurts.”

Harry near dropped his fork, stomach twisting in discomfort as he heard the words coming from Finn’s mouth. He softly cleared his throat, “Her face hurts?”

Finn was more interested in his food, simply nodding as he continued eating and Harry finally dropped it. He had a pretty clear idea as to why Claire’s face would hurt. He tightly gripped his fork, staring at his phone on the table in contemplation whether or not to text her. If it was crossing a line.

They had known each other for months now but never really dipped into that part of their friendship – as Claire would call it. Their talks were mostly playful or consisting of their children. They didn’t actually know much about one another on a personal level, they never had conversations like that and Harry wasn’t sure if this was pushing it or not.

So he left it at that. And a few days later, she reached out to him. Claire texted him, saying a guy asked her out on a date on Friday, asking him if it was okay if Atlas stayed the evening and if Harry had the time.

He responded faster than ever, immediately agreeing. Even though the idea that she was going on a date gnawed at him and he was searching high and low for the courage to ask her out himself – it still made his chest flutter that he was going to see her and talk to her.

The gnawing feel overpowered though, especially when he opened his door and she was there in a silk mini dress with tights and a dark purple loose cardigan over her shoulders to keep her warm. The cold was biting and even to drop Atlas off, Harry shortly invited her in.

Only when she was in the lights of the kitchen, could he take a decent look at her.

“Holy shit, what the hell happened to your face?” Was the first thing flying out of his mouth. Luckily for Harry, both Finn and Atlas were out of earshot. Claire exhaled and tilted her head to the side, “Is it really that obvious? I thought I covered it.”

She looked at him with big, round eyes. Her blonde hair was in soft waves laying over her back and all he could really see was the bruise on her cheekbone. He could tell it had faded and had gone towards a muted purple colour with hints of green. He could also see the layer of make-up she had put on over that.

“It’s… I mean, I can tell, yeah. It looks like a shadow.” He explained. Claire sighed, “Great. That guy’s gonna think I’m some crazy woman.”

“What happened?” Harry asked again. Claire took a moment and forced him a smile as she tried to busy herself with the strap of her bag, “Just me being clumsy.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “I don’t believe that for a second. Why did you have Belle pick up Atlas every single day this week?”

“Because I was working and couldn’t do it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged, “So? You could’ve asked me. Been doing it for the past few months with pleasure, so why relay on Belle again?”

“She asked, said she could use the money.” Claire shrugged and Harry huffed, “That doesn’t sound like you. Seems unlikely.”

“Yeah, I’m just that much of a bitch, aren’t I?” She responded bitterly, shaking her head to herself, “I don’t know what the big deal is. You got a week free of me and Atlas.”

“Didn’t ask for a week free of either you or Atlas. Neither did Finn.” It sounded like a dig, and Claire flicked her eyes up in shock of his words. They sounded venomous and angry, as if Finn had been unhappy this week without Atlas here in the evenings, and it was Claire’s fault. Harry continued, “Besides, I think the real reason wasn’t you being a nice person to Belle. I think the real reason was that you didn’t want me or Finn to see you with your face beaten up, which is why you hid all week.”

His voice softened and Claire’s stare hardened too. She inhaled a shaky breath, trying to recompose herself even if her heart was hammering violently and she could feel the lump in her throat.

“I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Harry.” She murmured, “If a person shows up with bruises and you have a feeling they’re not telling you the truth, there’s a reason for that. Don’t fucking pry it out of me like that, and why on earth do you even think you have the right or the audacity to do so? I don’t owe you any sort of explanation.”

He opened his mouth but she cut him off, “No, I don’t want to fucking hear it. You don’t get a free pass into my personal life just because my son likes you and we’re acquainted.”

It had gone from friends to acquaintances now. Harry felt the jab to his chest, knowing he had fucked up tremendously. Claire was breathing heavily as she sniffled once, “Now, I’m going to go on a date and attempt to enjoy it. I’ll see you later.” She strode past him and didn’t wait for Harry to let her out. The door slammed harshly until the pictures of Astrid and Finn on the walls rattled and Harry was left in silence.

He sat brooding that night. Checking his phone constantly for updates. Claire’s dates had never been this quiet. Usually she at least texted him when she arrived to let him know what the guy was wearing. There’d be texts throughout if her date said something disgusting or stupid, and at the end of the night to update him on if they had split the check or not.

It had been hours and there hadn’t been anything. With each buzz, he hastily grabbed his phone only to find it was either his mum or some notification of an e-mail he didn’t care for. His leg bobbed impatiently as he sat through another movie night with Finn and Atlas. And there was nothing that could take his mind off of things.

So when he had put the boys to bed and sat down on the couch again to check his phone, it was still empty. He drew up a message to send her but deleted it again, realizing his apologies would never come across through text while she was out with another man. He had to tell her in person, so he forced himself to stay awake.

Claire never came.

She never texted him, she simply never showed up. Harry stayed up for a few hours until midnight passed and then one in the morning, and then two in the morning. His lids felt droopy before he dragged himself to bed with the harsh realization that Claire was spending the night with her date.

He knew. She’d never go home to sleep by herself and leave Atlas here. She always picked him up. The only reason she wouldn’t pick him up, is if she was sleeping with him at his house or in a hotel room.

She was getting fucked, having sex, and Harry knew it.

The dates in the past hadn’t bothered him that much because they always ended up being assholes or losers and Claire was never truly interested in any of them. She never minded that there wasn’t a second date and simply kept swiping on Tinder until finding someone else.

In all the months they had been doing this, she had never spent the night with someone. It made Harry’s chest sink so deep that it hurt. It physically hurt, knowing she was with someone else. Who got to kiss her, touch her, smell her and taste her. Hear her, feel her, be inside of her.

His fists balled as he suddenly couldn’t catch sleep after that realization. He was so fucking jealous.

Harry hardly slept, but when his phone buzzed at around eight in the morning, he was wide awake.

Message from: Claire.

I’ll be there in like ten minutes.

He jolted up in bed and hastily went into the bathroom to freshen up and brush his teeth. Both boys were still asleep but Harry didn’t know for how long. He rushed down the stairs to be there for when she arrived, and like clockwork he heard gentle taps against the door.

He saw her and it only confirmed his suspicions. Her face was free of make-up and her hair was in a bun, but she was wearing the same clothes as the night before. The bruise was more prominent now with the absence of make-up, but what he could see was a fresh bruise. In the form of a lovebite at the base of her neck. It wasn’t that deep or dark, but he noticed straightaway.

Harry cleared his throat, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Claire mumbled, “Is Atlas up yet?”

“He’s not. D’you want to come in? I’ll make some coffee.”

Claire hesitated and eventually followed him inside of the familiar house. She sat down on the barstool she had been sitting in that first time she spent the day here and Harry had his back to her, working his coffee machine.

He swallowed through the lump in his throat, “So I take it you had a good date?”

“You could say that.” Claire breathed. Harry pressed his lips together, keeping his back to her. Claire cleared her throat, “We’re actually going out again next week.”

He turned around in lightning speed, “What?”

Claire blinked, “We’re going out again next week.” She repeated in a soft voice. Harry felt his fingers tightly gripping the countertop, “Like… like a second date?”

“Mhm.”

His knees weakened and he felt the stinging behind his lids, quickly turning around again to face the coffee machine, “That’s great.”

“It is.” Claire agreed, “He’s nice.”

They fell into silence and Harry poured her a cup of coffee as Claire drew a breath, “I can ask Belle, you know? To watch him. Next week.”

Harry immediately shook his head, “No way. Besides, it’s Christmas break. I’m sure Belle will want to do something else than babysit. And I don’t mind. We’re going to set up the tree, I’m sure Atlas will like that.”

“He will.” Claire nodded, “He’s been wanting a tree for a long time. We don’t have room in the apartment.”

Harry flicked his eyes to her, “Right.”

She forced him a smile and they fell into silence again. Harry realized he had never heard silence quite this fucking loud.

***

The week moved agonizingly slow. Claire showed up at school again, her bruise now faded. She picked up Atlas and shot a brief smile to Harry and Finn before spending the evening with her little man.

They cuddled and played board games, even some video games. It was always a task to entertain Atlas during school breaks. Claire couldn’t stay away from work so she usually organized camps for him or he spent a little more time with his father.

Not this time. Claire refused. She didn’t mind finding sitters and paying for them as long as Atlas didn’t spend any more time with Evan than absolutely necessary.

The had realized, after last weekend. After Atlas witnessed the abuse Evan put her through, that she would do everything in her power to keep him away. She wanted to give Evan a chance to be a father to Atlas, but he let him down over and over again. And mostly, Claire didn’t want Atlas to look up to Evan. And inherit some of his less nice qualities, like hitting women.

She couldn’t even imagine – and the thought made her sick – that Atlas would grow up to be like his father. It had resulted in more calls with her lawyer because she was getting slightly desperate for the money Evan owed her.

What had been taking her mind off things, was the prospect of her second date with Alexander. He had been an absolute sweetheart during their first date, so much so that Claire had felt butterflies. She opened up about Atlas and life as a single mum, and he was one of the first who didn’t laugh at her when she said she worked at Burger King. He noticed the bruise but didn’t ask her about it, besides wondering if she was in any pain.

She was, after a moment, from smiling so wide. So he gently kissed her at the end of the night and things got heated. Claire didn’t hesitate when he asked her to come to his apartment and they had spent a night between the sheets. Alexander had some stuff to learn, but Claire could be patient and guide him so he could learn how to satisfy her. She had searched high and low for an orgasm all night while giving him two, but it still didn’t mean it wasn’t fun.

Harry’s eyes had felt heavy on her when she went to drop Atlas off. Claire knew she looked good. She wore black again, a form-fitting dress to show off her curves with high heels to elevate her. She wore a bit of make-up but nothing too crazy and her hair was pinned back with a little butterfly clip.

His eyes had dragged up and down her form, boosting Claire’s confidence tremendously. She could see the heaviness in his eyes as they made a bit of polite small talk. She knew he was sorry about the way he spoke to her the week prior and she knew he didn’t like the fact she was going on a second date with Alexander.

She saw it in his stance, in his eyes. Jealousy. It was fine, Claire felt. Her and Harry did spent a lot of time together and even she’d feel a slight jab to her chest if he’d suddenly announce he was dating someone. In some stupid, crazy way it almost felt like they both had a claim on one another. But neither said anything and Claire wasn’t patient. Maybe she was taunting him, and part of her was. The dates in the past few months had all been disappointing and she expected the date with Alexander to be the same.

But he pleasantly surprised her and Claire had fun and felt seen. After the way Harry had spoken to her, it’s what she needed. And she couldn’t sit and wait around for him to figure out his feelings. She was moving on.

Moving on wasn’t easy though when your date doesn’t show up.

Claire looked like an idiot, sitting alone at the table in the restaurant. She checked her watch again, noticing Alexander was forty minutes late. She had double-checked their reservation to make sure she got the time and date right. She had texted him, called him, without answer. Her texts didn’t even go through, making her think he had her blocked.

She sipped slowly on her red wine until she had been there an hour, and she decided enough was enough. It was nine in the evening when she asked for the check to pay for her wine. The waiter shot her a sympathetic look that Claire brushed off, and she exited the restaurant.

Driving back to Harry’s house, she hadn’t notified him. She had only dropped Atlas off about an hour and a half ago and she suspected the three of them to just be sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

Claire shivered in the evening air as the had rang the door, hearing the familiar footsteps of Harry rushing over to the door before opening up with a frown. It softened at the sight of her. He hadn’t expected Claire here, an hour after she had left. The exciting glint she had in her eyes when leaving, was replaced by something he couldn’t really place.

“What happened?” He asked and Claire shrugged, fighting the embarrassed flush in her cheeks, “He stood me up.” She mumbled under her breath, “Can you grab Atlas? I really want to go home.”

“He stood you up?” Harry frowned, “What the fuck?”

Claire rolled her eyes, “Harry, it’s nothing. I’d just like to leave.”

“We’re in the middle of Monopoly.” He exhaled, “Look, just come in for a bit, you must be freezing.”

Claire hesitated. All she really wanted to do was go home with Atlas and cry in her shower before cuddling him to sleep. Harry opened the door wider, ushering her in, “Come on.”

And so she did. Her feet carried her into the house, met with the familiar warmth that Harry’s house exuded.

“Mummy!” Atlas sounded exited at the sight of his mother, jumping out of his chair to hug her. Claire smiled and kissed his forehead, “Hi, bub. ‘M back soon, aren’t I?”

Atlas giggled and jumped around, clearly very pleased with Claire joining the Monopoly-party.

“D’you want some tea? Or wine?” Harry offered.

“Wine.” Claire breathed immediately and Harry nodded, taking two glasses and filling them with some red wine as Finn and Atlas filled Claire in on how the game was going so far. She didn’t seem too in it with her head but nodded either way, quickly catching up on Harry’s strategy on losing on purpose to let either of the other boys win.

Claire followed along, playing without thinking and losing on purpose. Her wine was finished by the time Finn was crowned as the Monopoly-king.

As Finn and Atlas quickly settled down in front of the television, Claire and Harry were left to clear out the board game from the dinner table they had played at. Claire had put her hair up again with one of Harry’s pencils as they both tucked Monopoly back into the box.

“Some more wine?” Harry suggested. Claire exhaled and shook her head, “No, thanks, I still have to drive.”

“You’re not going home, are you?” Harry frowned, leaning against one of the chairs, “Claire, just stay here. You can sleep in the bed with Atlas. Or there’s even another guest room if you want.”

And Claire was too tired to argue. She timidly gave in and lifted her glass, “Well in that case… refill please.”

About an hour later, they had tucked their boys into bed. It was past their bedtime already but Harry and Claire agreed to cut them so slack since it was winter break and they didn’t have school for a few weeks.

“Do you want a shower? Or just some clothes of mine?”

“Just some clothes, please.” Claire responded, “’M a little cold.”

And so Harry gave her sweats, a shirt, a jumper and a pair of socks she could fit her feet in about three times. It looked a little ridiculous, but Harry had hearts in his eyes when she joined him on the sectional couch. She looked cuddly and soft, and her eyes were a little heavy from being tired and sad.

“Are you tired or do you want to watch a movie or something?” Harry asked as he popped his feet up on the coffee table. Claire was on the other side of the couch with a blanket around her, “Your couch is so comfortable, I’m probably going to fall asleep here.” She contently sighed, “Don’t even need a bed.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her nuzzle into the pillow. With her feet stretched his way, he gently tapped her shin, “How come you’re so tired?”

“’S just been a long week.” She sighed, “Arranging things with my boss for the winter break, so I can hire sitters throughout the day but can stay with Atlas at night.” She explained, “Don’t want him to spend his break with his father.”

Harry took a sip of his wine and softly exhaled, “Can I ask why not?”

Claire flicked her eyes up, appreciating the way Harry was more careful in asking her this time instead of how he approached the subject last time. She swallowed, “Well, he’s abusive.” She softly spoke, avoiding his eyes, “I don’t want Atlas around someone like him.”

“Would he hurt Atlas?” Harry frowned and Claire shrugged, “I don’t think so. But then again, I also didn’t think he’d ever hurt me.”

“He hit you, didn’t he? Two weeks ago?” Harry softly asked and Claire let out a breath, “Mhm.”

“Shit, Claire…” He cursed, shaking his head, “I’m so sorry.”

“’S not your fault.”

“No, I’m sorry for prying. I-I had a hunch and I should’ve just left it at that, it wasn’t fair of me.” Harry apologized, staring at his fingers before he lifted his head and turned to face her. Claire had a sad look on her face, “Just another thing added to the plate this week. His lawyer is literally such a dick. I just… I want this all to be over. To cut ties, to never have to see him again. But I also want Atlas to know his father.” She shrugged, “It’s hard.”

“I can imagine.” Harry sympathized, stroking his fingers over her covered shin. He licked his lip before continuing, “Were you two together for a long time?”

Claire sat up and hugged her legs to her body, her chin on her knee, “Few years. I made some wrong friends in school and went through a phase. I used drugs sometimes, I drank a lot, I partied, dropped out of school… I met Evan during that time and was already on thin ice with my parents. I sort of moved in with him in this little studio. He was – uh… a dealer. And he used a lot. Sort of pulled me into that.” She softly explained.

Claire closed her eyes for a moment, “I even used when pregnant. I didn’t know I was pregnant for the longest time and just kept drinking and doing drugs, I-I had no idea.” She murmured and Harry’s heart cracked, watching her as she blinked away some tears, “It’s literally a miracle that Atlas was born and that he was completely fine.”

It was silent for a bit as Claire relived some memories in her brain. Harry turned to face her more, scooting a little closer on the couch, “Was he happy that you were pregnant?”

“Ecstatic, actually.” Claire mumbled, “He was so happy. Of course, he was high most of the time. When sober, he hardly acknowledged me. He was… very difficult to read. When he was high, he was super happy or the complete opposite. When he was sober, he barely showed any emotion at all.”

Claire took a breath, “The moment my parents knew I was pregnant, they cut me off completely. I haven’t been in contact with them ever since. So I moved in with Evan permanently. Neither of us had a job and he got money from dealing, but it was a dangerous life. He got threatened a lot and was always stressed, he worked that out on me. He hit me, always when he was high. I forgave him, I had nowhere to go.” She shrugged, shaking her head to herself, “It was difficult for a few years. When Atlas was around two, I finally got away. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

The television was softly playing in the background but neither Harry or Claire paid it any attention. She lifted her head to send him a weak smile, “I’m happy now. Atlas is amazing and I love him so much. It’s just… hard sometimes. I don’t want to have to deal with him anymore, it just brings back so many memories and he keeps thinking he’s got some claim over me.” She nibbled her lip, “Atlas goes to his place sometimes on a Saturday. Like… once a month or something. He never stays the night. Two weeks ago he went there and obviously shared stuff about his life. About Finn, about… you.”

“Shit.” Harry murmured and Claire hummed, “Yeah. Evan lost it. I went to pick up Atlas again and he freaked out, said I was… well, every name in the book, really. Doesn’t usually bother me, but Atlas was around a-and I fought back, told him to stop. He just – well, yeah.” She pointed to the faded bruise on her face and sniffed once, “And that’s that.”

“Atlas saw?” Harry whispered and Claire nodded, “Yep.”

“Holy fuck… that guy is insane.” He scooted a little closer again, “Claire, you need like a restraining order. And you need full custody.”

“I’m trying.” She sighed, “I swear, these things take so long. I’ve been trying for months now, years maybe. It’s really not easy.”

Harry exhaled, “No, I know. I know.”

“Do you…” Claire asked warily, “do you have full custody?”

“Mhm.” Harry shortly nodded, “Astrid voluntarily wrote away her rights. She wanted nothing to do with Finn or me, so it was an easy arrangement. It’s more difficult when both parties fight the other.”

Claire frowned, “She… She chose to not be a part of Finn’s life?”

He shortly cleared his throat, “Yeah. Astrid… she’s a complex person, Claire. ‘M not even really sure how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want.” She softly spoke and Harry shook his head, “I think we’re sharing traumas here and it’s only fair if I share mine.” He tried to make it sound like a joke, but there was heaviness in the air. Harry licked his lip, “We met when we were young and got married. Always wanted a family. It didn’t work for some time until Astrid got pregnant with Finn. From the moment she was pregnant I just… saw her change. It’s like she felt suffocated all of a sudden and only then realized how much her life was going to change as a mum. She did all these things, took all these trips spontaneously, like she was scared to be an adult all of a sudden. I sort of let her do her thing, figuring it was just what she needed at that point.”

Claire listened as Harry continued, “When he was born, it got even worse. It was like she resented him. We talked to therapists who brought up the whole postpartum depression thing, but Astrid said it was more than that. She didn’t want anything to do with Finn and actually tried to be as far away from him. Her motherly instincts never kicked in. She took off with her friends, took trips, partied and whatnot, always leaving me here with him. It was like she regressed back to her life in her early twenties. We hardly saw one another, she missed a lot of his first few years. She just didn’t want him. And then one day she just announced that she was leaving. Moving to some island to start over, signing away her rights and… she was gone. We got divorced easily and I’ve been a single parent ever since.”

“Wow.” Claire breathed, “That’s… so crazy. When was the last time you saw her?”

Harry scratched above his brow, “Probably… four years ago? I have no idea where she is right now, or what she’s doing. She’s completely messed it up for me, I don’t want anything to do with her ever again.” He sounded bitter and Claire shortly nodded, “Understandable.”

“It’s just like a sense of responsibility. I don’t know…” Harry mumbled, “We actively tried to have a baby, it’s not like it was a surprise.”

They fell into a silence until Harry exhaled and held up his glass, “Cheers to our exes.”

“Cheers.” Claire chuckled before shaking her head, “How sad are we.”

Harry took a sip, “We’re not sad.” He argued with a soft smile and Claire puffed out a breath, “I am. Can’t believe I got stood up. That was super embarrassing.”

“It’s honestly insane. He’s a fucking asshole.”

Claire pressed her lips together, “I mean, if he just wanted sex, he could’ve said so. I’m not stupid, like I get it. Just fucking tell me the truth and don’t string me along.”

Harry shot her a sly smile, “At least you got an orgasm out of it.”

“He did.” Claire corrected him in a shrug, her voice nothing but a gentle mumble. Harry looked at Claire over the rim of his glass, “Hm?” He wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly.

She nibbled her lip, avoiding his eyes as she let out a soft breath, “Well – he did. I didn’t – uh… he didn’t get me off.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Harry sounded in complete disbelief before throwing his head back with a laugh.

Claire blushed red in embarrassment and rolled her eyes, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Harry laughed, shaking his head, “Holy shit, I can’t believe this guy?! He didn’t even get you off and then has the nerve to ghost you?!”

She took another sip, “Well, yeah.”

“He’s literally such a dick, what the hell…” Harry mumbled, “So was he just like… bad or anything?”

Claire’s red cheeks didn’t disappear as Harry continued the subject and she let out a shuddery breath, “I mean, not really. Although actually, yes. He tried, I think.” The more Claire thought about it, the more she hesitated. Sighing out, she forced Harry a small smile, “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, though. Who the fuck does he think he is.”

Harry’s anger was sort of infectious and she felt the fire in her chest, “You know what? Yes. You’re right. It does matter. Because I pulled out all my tricks, you know? Even gave him head! He came twice!” She rambled and Harry’s eyes widened. Claire let out a sigh, “I just want – you know?” She used hand gestures now and Harry watched intently, “What?” He asked in confusion.

Claire put her glass of wine down on the coffee table with a slight slam, “I just want a fucking guy to just… grab me! Like – “ She pressed her lips together, “just someone to throw me around, have his fucking way with me, shut me up. Make it rough, you know?”

It was Harry’s turn to get red cheeks as he listened to Claire explaining her sexual desires. She seemed lost in her head, sighing again with tense shoulders, “And just claim me?! I don’t know, just like fucking take me and kiss me a-“

Claire couldn’t finish her sentence before feeling Harry’s lips on hers. He had lunged forward at her, near knocking her backwards as his mouth was on hers. Claire yelped in surprise at the short kiss. Harry was panting as he pulled back, only an inch or two. His wine-stained lips brushed hers.

“W-What are you doing?” Claire murmured.

“God, just shut up.” Harry groaned, watching Claire’s wide eyes as he grabbed her waist and yanked her body on top of his. Claire near flew through the air, gasping in surprise as she found herself perched up on Harry’s lap with her thighs on each side of his. Her chest heaved in shallow breaths, hands bracing herself on his shoulders as she stared down at him.

His eyes were dark and deep, lust dripping from him as he sinfully slipped his hands up her covered thighs. They stared at each other for just a moment before Harry grabbed the back of her head to pull her down and reconnect their lips.

A moan from Claire got muffled against his lips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders before moving into his hair, cupping his jaw and sliding into his neck. She touched wherever she could reach, feeling his strong arms wrapped around her form to keep her tightly pressed into his chest. A tug on her hips made her scoot up on his lip, her mouth parting at the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Fuck.” Claire moaned, pushing her tongue into Harry’s mouth. Claire reciprocating was something Harry could’ve only dreamed of. Everything she had been describing was exactly what he had been wanting to do for weeks now, but felt too unsure to do so. He didn’t want to scare her off, yet now he felt fucking unhinged.

The moment his fingers tugged at the jumper covering Claire’s body, she caught on. Her blonde hair flew around as they broke apart and she tugged it off, leaving her in one of his shirts.

“Fucking finally.” Claire moaned as Harry pulled her hips down on his and her head rolled back on her shoulders, “Please – oh god…” She was bucking back into him, hips sensually rocking in wave-like motions to stimulate him. Harry felt the heat radiating from her core, his head dropping back on the couch, “Jesus.” He hissed in bliss.

He lifted his head again, brushing his lips over her pulse-point, “Should we go to the bedroom?”

“Uh-huh.” Claire panted, “Please, I need you.”

A surge of confidence shot through Harry, “Yeah?”

Claire wrapped her fingers in his hair, “Yes.” She whispered, “So bad.”

Harry’s lips nipped on her neck, “Do you need me or do you just need to get fucked?”

“You.” Claire spoke without missing a beat, “Been wanting this for so long.”

Harry pulled back with surprise written all over his face, “What? Really?”

“Yes.” She chuckled. Harry frowned, “Why didn’t you say anything? I-I’ve liked you for months.”

“I know.”

His cheeks turned pink again and Claire smiled in amusement, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. Harry swallowed thickly, “Y-You know? And you never said or did anything? Kept going on dates with other guys?”

“Well, I could’ve been wrong.” Claire shrugged, “Didn’t want to make a fool of myself and ruin our arrangement or ruin anything for Atlas.”

Harry was about to say something but Claire beat him to it, biting her lip and brushing her hair over her shoulder. Harry’s eyes dropped to the faded lovebite on her neck and his throat tightened as Claire batted her lashes, “Besides, it was funny to see you a little jealous.”

“Played me, hm?” Harry growled, tangling a hand in her hair and Claire gasped at the tight hold he had on her scalp, pulling her to the side a little as his mouth latched onto the still existing hickey. Claire’s eyes rolled back, her hips bucking on their own accord as he deepened the bruise, claiming her. She was ruining her underwear, a sob stuck in her throat from how desperate she was and how badly she needed him.

“Still funny?” Harry licked over the fresh bruise, throbbing and angry purple to disturb Claire’s skin. His fingers dug into her hip, “Answer me.”

“F-Fuck, no.” Claire panted, “God, Harry, please.”

He pulled her hips again, dragging her up his growing cock as he exhaled a shaky sigh. Claire blinked her eyes open, somehow sensing his hesitance, “Are you okay?” She questioned softly, cupping his cheeks. Her nose bumped his and Harry puckered his lips for her to give him a gentle kiss.

“Yeah.” He rasped, “I might – uh… be a little rusty. ‘S been a while.”

Claire nodded, “Okay.”

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, “No, it’s like been… years.” He mumbled the last part, too embarrassed to actually say out loud. Claire froze on top of him, staring at his eyes which refused to look back at her, “Wait, are you serious? You haven’t had sex in years?”

“Yep.” He exhaled, “It’s, uh… well, I’ve been with women after Astrid, just not many. Had a few one night stands and it just… well, didn’t really do it for me. And I just stopped then, focussing completely on raising Finn and then it didn’t happen anymore.”

Claire was quiet for a moment, taking in the information before she nodded, “Okay, that makes sense. But you… masturbate?”

“Mhm.”

“And… do you want this?” She checked. Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Fuck, yes. Wanted this for weeks.”

“Weeks?”

He flicked his eyes up, “Months, actually.”

Claire kissed him, “Take me to bed, Harry.”

He didn’t hesitate, grabbing Claire underneath her thighs to pick her up. She was astounded at his strength. She had seen Harry shirtless by the pool and had seen him in shirts all the time with exposed arms. She had never witnessed him working out or anything, but he was strong enough to not blink while carrying her up the stairs.

“We’re gonna have to be quiet.” He murmured into her neck, “Don’t want to wake our boys.”

“Definitely not.” Claire agreed.

Harry’s foot kicked open the door of his bedroom, “What I meant is you’re going to have to be quiet.” He quipped with a sly smirk as he dropped Claire on the mattress. She watched him, standing at the foot of the bed to rip off his shirt and leave him topless. Claire’s thigh quivered at the sight of his muscular body and the many tattoos. His abs flexed as he moved and she was mesmerized.

Harry felt another boost of confidence at the hungry look in Claire’s eyes. She laid on her beck and he took her ankle, sliding off the huge sock he had given her before moving over to the other foot, “How do you want it?”

Claire wanted to moan. She tipped her head back with closed eyes, biting her lip, “Hard.” She whimpered, “Deep.”

Harry chuckled, “A little greedy, hm?”

After taking off her socks, he tugged at the leg holes of her sweatpants. Due to the size of the clothes, they easily slipped off of Claire’s hips and thighs, easy for Harry to take off. Every inch of her legs became visible to him, as did the red thong she was wearing. His mouth watered, chucking the sweatpants over his shoulders before climbing on top of her.

Claire parted her legs immediately, arms reaching out to pull him into her. She hungrily kissed him, tangling a hand back in his hair as her legs curled around his thighs to keep him close, close enough to feel him between her thighs. With the disappearance of her sweatpants, she felt him much more clear, rubbing against her pussy.

Harry was hard as a rock, so turned on by her and this moment and the way he had imagined this. He had never been the most spontaneous person – something Astrid loved to complain about – so it took him a lot of courage to just grab Claire and hope for the best. He didn’t want to scare her off or cross any boundaries, and somehow they didn’t really know each other on a level that he knew if this was all okay or not.

But the way she whimpered in his mouth and desperately pulled at him, was enough proof that she needed him badly. And according to her, it was him she needed. No one else.

Claire got impatient, reaching for his hand to bring it between them. She left it at that, handing the reigns over to Harry. His cheeks turned slightly pink and with their lips still brushing together in kisses, Harry nervously skimmed his fingers over the hem of Claire’s panties.

She shuddered, holding her breath, “God – Harry, get on with it.” She pleaded. His eyes closed with a guttural moan, slipping his fingers inside her underwear to stroke between her folds with the rough pads of them. Claire immediately squeaked and jumped in sensitivity of the touch and Harry latched his lips onto her neck again to silence himself.

His fingers moved up and down to feel her, underwear tenting around his hand as he felt her so wet and warm for him, it could make him cry. Slick, dripping pussy as Claire opened her legs wider to allow him more room. It spread her for him, letting his fingers graze over every ridge and bump she had until he settled the pads of his fingers on her clit.

She gasped desperately, her legs so tense and her entire body so worked up. She wasn’t sure if she was hurting him with the firm grip on his hair, but she needed something to ground herself. Arching her back up, she whined, “F-Fuck me. Please.”

Harry groaned again, a sound that went straight between Claire’s legs as he kept touching her clit. He rubbed circles to arouse her more, to get her all wet and open. Harry knew he was rather well-endowed and even though Claire had sex on a much more regular basis than him, it would be presumptuous to assume the guy who couldn’t get her off last week was anywhere near his size.

“Need to get you ready.” Harry mumbled into her neck, lifting his head and finding the strength to look in her eyes. It hit him like a sledgehammer, the look she sent him. Horny, desperate, near crying for him. Her eyes glazed over, her lips in an inviting, swollen pout and her cheeks flushed.

“I am.” Claire breathed out, “So ready. P-Please.”

Harry bit his lip, “’M not teasing you here, Claire. You’ll thank me for it.” At that, he grabbed one of her hands to guide it to his crotch, inviting her to touch him. Claire did so without hesitation, panting out as she fought with the elastic band of his boxers before finally getting her hand in. She paused immediately, eyes flicking up and widening dramatically, “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Harry smirked arrogantly, “Still think you’re ready?”

Her hand felt small around the girth of his erection, stroking curiously from thick base to swollen tip. If there was anything Harry knew, it was that he was fucking ready for her.

Claire let out a shuddery exhale as her head thudded back into the mattress, “Yes, please – I can’t wait. I need you.” She panted, restlessly writhing on the mattress, “I need you inside of me, I need it to hurt. I can take it.”

“Holy shit.” Harry cursed, bucking his hips into her hand. He stared at her, losing his sense of hesitation as he licked his lip, “You have to tell me if I need to stop, okay?”

“Uh-huh. Promise.”

“Good girl.” He whispered, removing his hand from in between her legs. He quickly brought the tips of his fingers to his mouth to get them clean, his tongue swirling around casually before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Claire was fucking dumbfounded.

Harry jumped off the bed, rummaging one of his drawers as she pushed herself up on her elbows, “Are you going to tie me up?” She sounded almost hopeful and Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “No, I like having your hands in my hair. ‘M looking for a condom.”

“Right.” Claire took it upon herself to slip out of the shirt she was wearing and then remove her underwear to leave her completely naked. She laid on Harry’s dark blue sheets, staring up at the beamed ceiling of his house as Harry grumbled under his breath, closing the drawer to open another, “Found it!” He cheered.

He turned around in triumph but his smile quickly dropped as he laid eyes on a naked Claire. His throat ran dry, seeing the length of her torso, the dips of her ribs and her chest. Full, firm tits and hardened nipples sitting up and waiting to be taken into his mouth. The stretchmarks on her thighs, the lines of her underwear denting her skin and some faded tan lines gracing her.

“So fucking beautiful.” Harry sighed, slowly walking over to her. The pace had slowed a little bit and was less frantic now as he stood at the edge of the bed, letting his eyes drag over her. Where Claire assumed she’d feel shy, she actually felt confident. Harry’s eyes studied her and he looked mesmerized. He wasn’t judging any part of her, he just wanted to see her.

Harry exhaled shakily and shook his head to himself, “Should’ve done this way sooner.”

“I would’ve let you.” Claire teased. Harry smirked slightly as he took it upon himself to open up the square foil of the condom. He dropped his boxers, Claire’s eyes widening and her mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock bobbing up and standing up tall.

“Oh my god.” She whimpered when he shortly stroked himself before fiddling with the condom. “Wait!” Claire squeaked. Harry paused and his brows raised, “What is it?”

Claire swallowed, her eyes glued to his erection, “I want to suck you off.”

“Fuck, no.” Harry breathed, shaking his head sternly as he rolled the condom down his shaft, “If you take me in your mouth, I’m gonna cum immediately.”

Claire wanted to protest but Harry was already hovering over her, knees kicking her legs apart to allow him room. Goosebumps rose over her body at his closeness, his nose continuously brushing into hers as he had one hand around his base to guide towards her.

“Still okay?” He whispered and Claire let out a soft moan, “Yes, yes.”

“Still think your little pussy can take me?”

Her eyes shot open as a tingle of arousal ran down her spine. She bucked up while biting down her lip, somehow not expecting Harry to say anything like that. Claire fought for air, “Yes.” She rasped again, “Please.”

The second she felt Harry’s blunt tip against her opening, Claire focussed on relaxing. She attempted to spread her legs wider for him, focussing on not tensing up any of her muscles as he held the eye contact. Both their mouths opened in a breathless whine as he pushed in. He felt her walls rippling around him, fighting the intrusion for a moment. Hesitation flashed over Claire’s face for a brief second until she breathed through it, her eyes rolling back as her head lolled to the side from the stretch.

“Fuck, you’re so wet and tight.” Harry lowly commented, taking his sweet time in inching forward to fill her up. Claire was panting, her nails digging into his back as she felt the burn between her thighs. He was everywhere, and he wasn’t even fully in yet. Harry paused for a few seconds before rocking in again to get deeper. Claire bit her lip with a high moan escaping her lips.

“Quiet.” Harry whispered, kissing her shortly. She nodded frantically, “I-I know, fuck – you’re so big.”

“You can take it.”

Claire arched, Harry holding onto her waist before sliding his hand up to play with her nipple. He cupped her breast, giving a squeeze before using his thumb to tease her. He used his other hand to grip the bedding, holding himself up on his elbow.

“Fuck.” He whimpered when he finally bottomed out. Harry relaxed slightly, feeling his hips flush to Claire’s thighs. His cock twitched inside of her, a tight fit between her snug, wet walls. She was panting underneath him, the sight so erotic. He couldn’t help himself when he let go of her breast and grabbed her throat instead, giving a light squeeze while kissing her.

He swallowed down her moans as he started moving, rearing back about halfway before rocking in again. He kept the pace slow and gentle for now to let her adjust, and their tongues roamed each other’s mouths in the meantime. Harry was sure to have marks down his back from her nails as Claire clawed at him.

“Okay?” Harry checked breathlessly as he brushed his lips over hers. “Yes.” Claire confirmed, “You can go harder.”

Harry sighed, “Thank god.” And then he picked up his pace and the strength of his thrusts. The breath got knocked out of Claire’s lungs with each drop of his hips on hers, nudging up a spot so deep inside it felt near unbearable yet she still wanted more.

Harry shifted his hips, scooting closer as his lips were on her neck and he buried his face in her throat. “God, you feel so good.” He moaned, “Such a fucking tight cunt for me.”

With the constant shifting in his position, it didn’t take Harry long to find her g-spot. Claire jolted up with a high whine the moment his tip brushed up her front wall, and her legs spasmed. He could feel her gushing slightly as her muscles clamped around him tightly.

“Oh my god!” Claire moaned, causing Harry to slap his hand right over her mouth, “Keep it down.” He hissed, holding his hand to muffle her moans. A tear escaped her eye as he kept pounding her into the mattress in a murderous pace, just like she had asked him to.

“Am I getting you close, baby?” He near taunted, sweat pearling at his hairline and a smirk gracing his pink lips at the sight of her wrecked state, “Already?” He added.

Claire managed to nod and he tutted her, “Good. Found your sweet spot, didn’t I? Right…” He brought his hips back before thrusting sharply, “there?”

Claire’s eyes rolled back as she shook uncontrollably, another wave of squirt wetting Harry, who moaned at the feeling and the sight, “Fuck yes, get wet on my cock, hm? Need you to cum for me, Claire. You fucking deserve it.” He put force behind his words and power into his hips, relentlessly fucking into her.

He kept his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, and Claire sobbed as she was on the edge. Harry thought about it. Teasing her, torturing her. But her eyes were watery, her nails denting his skin and her pussy so good for him. He allowed her to cum. With two more deep thrusts, Claire convulsed. A scream ripped through her chest, muffled by Harry’s hand as he fucked her through the orgasm. Claire’s legs clenched around him as she arched and writhed.

“’S good, that’s good.” Harry praised, kissing away her tears, “Fuck, that’s so good. Y’feel so fucking amazing, cumming on my cock like that. Such a good girl.”

Claire whined against his hand, her fingers curling around his wrist to pull at his arm. Harry let go, letting Claire desperately inhale the breath her lungs so badly needed. She coughed slightly from the gagging, wheezing in air as her body trembled in the aftermath of her orgasm. Harry’s thrusts had turned into gentle grinding motions, smirking down at her, “Feel good?”

“Oh my god.” Claire whimpered, still shuddering, “S-So good. Holy shit. I’ve never had an orgasm like that.”

They both slowed down a little, Harry’s cock painfully twitching inside of her. Claire blinked her eyes open, “Can you still keep going?”

“Mhm.” Harry swallowed, “Little more. I think I could get you to cum again.”

She smiled, biting her lip, “That would be great.”

He kissed her, smiling against her lips. His heart fluttered as she ran a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp a little. Harry hummed against her lips, still inside of her, “I’m afraid I’m obsessed with you.”

“Same.” Claire breathed back without a thought, her eyes exuding warmth and comfort as she stared up at him. A slight clench of her pussy brought Harry back to his mission of the night. Getting her off again.

Without warning, he lifted up on his arms and slid back, slipping from her. Claire gasped at the loss of contact, watching dazedly as Harry leaned down between her legs and his hot mouth was on her. “Oh! Oh my god." Claire breathed, hips jolting up as he licked at her, tongue wiggling between her pussy lips and up to her clit to give a harsh suck. Claire bit her lip, “H-Harry…” She moaned.

He hummed back, sliding the flat of his tongue up her cunt before sitting up again. He licked around his lips, tasting her before tapping her thigh, “Are you gonna ride me?”

Claire was still catching her breath as she swallowed, “I don’t think my legs work.”

Harry chuckled, biting his lip, “Won’t have to do anything. Just get on top of me.” He urged her and Claire nodded, letting him help her as they switched positions. Much like on the couch, Claire straddled him. The wet of her pussy pressed into the base of his cock, grinding softly as they indulged in another making-out session.

Harry held her hair back and had one hand on her ass, cupping the flesh and squeezing, urging her to grind into him. When he felt like Claire was too scared to fully sit down on him, he slapped her ass and she gasped, no longer holding herself up.

“So beautiful.” Harry whispered, head popped up on a few pillows as Claire hovered over him. They shared little kisses as he urged her hips up to sink down on him. “God – fuck.” Claire whimpered as she took him, slowly sitting down on his cock and feeling him in a different angle.

“Good, good.” Harry praised, his eyes closing as her warm cunt swallowed him, “So fucking good.” It sounded like a slur and both took a moment to adjust again.

“Hands behind your back.” Harry instructed in a strained voice, “Fuck, ‘m not gonna last long.”

Claire quickly obliged, depending on Harry’s arms to hold her a little upright. She was leaned completely over him, face hovering over his. Harry held one hand in the back of her neck with her hair in a makeshift ponytail, and held his other hand around her throat to keep her head tilted up.

With Claire’s arms behind her back, she was completely folded up for him and she loved it. She could feel her wetness seeping from her pussy, making a mess of Harry’s thighs. He didn’t seem to mind one bit, hardly paying it any attention before he started fucking up into her.

The position made Claire gasp, her body going lax for a moment before the pleasure consumed her and she let herself get used by Harry. He was so insanely deep like this, it was almost painful but in the best way. She’d be sore, for sure. She’d feel him for days, the way he stretched her and claimed her. God, it was everything she had craved.

“Holy shit – Claire,” Harry panted, “I need you to cum again.”

“Uh-huh.” She managed to choke out, “Please, it’s so good.” Her eyes watered again and Harry groaned softly, staring at her. They kissed again, his hand no longer on her throat but affectionately cupping her cheek as her tongue slipped into his mouth.

It was like he needed that moment before turning into a full animal. Holding both hands on the makeshift ponytail, he gave her a sharp tug to have her staring up at the ceiling. With Claire folded back in half and her hands still behind her back, Harry was relentless in the way his hips snapped up and his cock moved inside of her wet pussy.

“O-Oh god, Harry!” Claire squeaked, “I’m gonna cum. So hard, fuck.” Her words were jumbled and stuttering, her eyes tightly screwed shut as her second orgasm washed over her. She was quiet this time, unable to get out a sound or a word. Harry let go of her hair and Claire dropped her face in the crook of his neck, panting out desperately as she clenched and shuddered and convulsed around him.

Harry’s eyes rolled back at the feeling, “Shit, oh god.” He cursed, sliding both hands down to her ass to knead her and keep her firmly pressed to him. He grabbed the flesh, spreading her cheeks and rolling her back down onto him as he finished inside of the condom. He was sweaty and clammy, and Claire was sprawled out on top of him without the ability to move.

Both stayed like that for a moment. Claire shuddered every so often, her muscles tensing after two harsh orgasms as Harry was melted into the bed with her on top of him. They shared gentle caresses, his fingers dancing over her spine as she stroked her thumb over his jaw, “Wow.” Claire whispered after a few minutes.

Harry lazily smiled with his eyes closed, “Yeah. Wow. Shit, that was good.”

“Mhm.” She hummed and Harry sighed, “We should clean up a bit, hm? And go to sleep?”

Claire was yawning as she agreed, “Yes.”

Grabbing her hip, Harry gently nudged her off. Claire let him, no strength in her legs as she fell on the mattress next to him. Harry’s cock slipped out of her, softening up inside of the condom and he hissed in sensitivity as he got up and headed into the en-suite bathroom to clean up and dispose of the condom.

After washing his hands, he went to get Claire. He pulled her up, “C’mon, you need to pee.” He whispered. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, fully naked as Harry helped her into the bathroom and gave her the privacy to use the toilet.

Both brushed their teeth after that and collapsed in the bed. No words were spoken when Harry pulled Claire into his side for her head to rest on his chest and her arms to wrap around him. He cuddled her back, brushing his lips over her forehead, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She whispered back, giving one more kiss to his neck before falling asleep.

Harry feared that it might be awkward in the morning, waking up with Claire after that. But it wasn’t. If anything, his heart soared as he was woken up with kisses to his chest, leading up to his neck and his jaw as her hand stroked over his side.

He shortly squeezed her body, eyes still closed, “Hey.” He rasped. Claire smiled into his neck, her leg hooked over his hips, “Hi, good morning.”

He kept his eyes closed as he lazily rolled around with her, changing the position until he was cuddled into her side with his face in her neck, “What time is it?”

“The sun’s coming up.” Claire responded in a whisper. Harry’s arms were around her and he inhaled her scent, puckering his lips, “Hmm.”

“Think we woke anyone last night?”

His lips curled into a soft smirk, remembering every second as he let out a breath, “Don’t think so, no. How are you feeling?”

“Good.” Claire whispered, shifting a little in his hold until she cupped his jaw. Harry’s eyes opened as he felt her kissing him, a few gentle pecks placed on his lips. He smiled involuntary, staring at Claire who looked giddy and sparkly in the morning.

“This is a nice way to wake up.” He whispered and she hummed, “It sure is.” They were in silence for a bit until Claire took a breath, “So what’s usually for breakfast on Saturdays?”

“Pancakes.” Harry yawned. He gently squeezed her waist, “Wanna help me?”

About ten minutes later, they were in the kitchen. Claire was dressed in her underwear and just a shirt of Harry’s, reaching well over her ass while they roamed around the kitchen to get everything for the pancakes and stealing kisses in between. Harry could hardly focus on the stupid pancakes, constantly having his hands on her and hiking up the shirt to get a peek of what was underneath.

“Harry.” Claire giggled, “The boys will be up soon.”

He stood behind her, pushing her into the countertop a little as his fingers toyed with the hem of the shirt. His lips were on her neck from behind, “We’ll hear.” He whispered, “Just a quickie.”

Claire didn’t say anything, and Harry felt her giving in as she relaxed. He smirked into her neck, “So good for me.” He murmured lowly, bunching the shirt up around her waist. He pulled back a little to stare at her ass, covered by the thin band of lace of the red thong. He bit his lip, grazing his thumb over the fabric, “Let me get a condom.” He whispered.

She whined in protest, grabbing his wrist to keep him right where he was, “No, fuck that. Just do me.” She sighed, “Fuck me bare. I wanna feel you.”

Harry groaned, not needing more convincing than that. He was quick, hooking her thong to the side and pushing his sweats down. He spat down into his hand to lube himself up, guiding between her ass cheeks to find her weeping pussy. Claire leaned over the countertop a bit more to make it easier, and Harry pushed in slowly again.

He watched, the way her fingers gripped around the edge of the countertop, the way her back tensed at the intrusion, the way her head dropped and the way her legs trembled as he entered her again.

“Are you sore?” He whispered, urging her to stand up straighter again so he could wrap his arms around her. They slipped underneath the shirt, palming her tits as Claire leaned her head back on his shoulder, “A bit, but it’s so okay.” She responded. Harry hummed, nipping on her neck as he started fucking her. He was sensitive, early in the morning. His cock was painfully hard and he sighed in bliss of being inside of her again.

The kitchen was silent apart from the steady ticking of the clock and the faint sound of a car driving by every once in a while. They breathed sharply and heavily, but both kept their moans down. The only other thing that could be heard was the sound of Harry’s hips slapping into her ass, fucking her from behind.

It didn’t feel like enough anymore, and after a few minutes he slipped out to turn her around. Grabbing her thighs, Harry easily lifted Claire up on the countertop, lips hovering over one another as he pushed in again. His cock shone in the slick of her arousal, easily sinking back into her pussy as she sat up at the perfect height.

He held one hand on her thigh, hiking it up over his hips as he fucked her quickly and sharp. “Fuck.” Harry choked out a whisper, tugging Claire to the edge to get deeper. She leaned back on one palm, watching him intently as Harry fucked her for his own pleasure. She didn’t mind. Claire was too sore and tired to reach an orgasm, but watching Harry as he neared his own end, was mesmerizing.

No words were spoken, but his jaw went slack and he buried himself deep inside of her when finishing. As Harry felt like he was unable to keep his moans down, he desperately kissed her, spurts of his cum filling Claire on an early, lazy Saturday morning in the kitchen. His fingers dented her hips as his orgasm seemed endless, fucking her bare. She felt amazing and he hadn’t expected anything less.

Both were panting as the ringing in Harry’s ears subsided. He relaxed a little, unclenching his muscles as he stroked up Claire’s sides, “Shit, you didn’t cum.” He panted out. She hummed, “That’s okay. You can make it up to me later.”

He breathed out a chuckle, it quickly disappearing as he heard a door upstairs. Claire’s eyes widened and Harry glanced around to reach for tissues. He slipped out of her, using the tissues to clean up any spilling of his cum. In an ideal world, he’d watch intently as it oozed out of her swollen cunt, possibly use his mouth on her decently this time.

But they didn’t have time. Footsteps from upstairs hurried down the stairs and he heard the giggling of two little boys as Claire hurried into the downstairs bathroom to clean up and get decent. Harry washed his hands and used a clean cloth to wipe down the countertop.

By the time Claire returned from the bathroom, the sight in front of her warmed her heart. Harry was playing around in the kitchen with Atlas and Finn. And everything just felt so normal. She walked up behind him as he stirred the pancake batter. It didn’t feel weird when she wrapped her arms around his form and pressed a kiss to his clothed shoulder, “Can we stay for breakfast?”

Harry glanced at her over his shoulder, seeing the softness in her eyes. He smiled and reached back further to bump his nose into hers, “You can stay forever.”

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1d1195 · 8 months

Text

My Friend's Toyota I

🎶 here she is! Based on the song of the same name, by Asiris 💕 I wanted to write this before spring arrived. It's just a few parts (I'm thinking 4 right now) only because the first part got so long 🤭

~8k words

Warnings: college!Harry but otherwise none really. Just wanted to write a cute romantic story. Maybe the tiniest bit of angst (but maybe not in this part just yet). This part is a little ramble-y but I promise it'll come together quick.

But this... angel he had bumped into...

She was going to star in all his fantasies now.

Can’t believe September’s already over / Looked for stars and I found a supernova / praying to God that I can hold her close / ‘Cause I know she’s worried ‘bout the snow / She said “Darling, should I bring a coat?”

Harry thought he was more excited to go to university than anyone had ever been. “For drinking right?” his friends from school asked with a laugh. They chatted about it all the time during the summer before they all left their hometown in favor of the new chapter of their lives. Harry liked drinking, sure. It was fun but he enjoyed hanging out with his friends more. At least when they were in university they wouldn’t be drinking illegally anymore.

But Harry was a bit of a hopeless romantic.

He believed university was the surefire way to meet the love of his life. The person who would knock him off his feet, make his heart grow three sizes too big for his chest, and simply just... feel like he was right where he was supposed to be.

The first semester of university came and went.

Harry didn’t meet the love of his life.

He had Mitch. His roommate and one of his best friends from home. But Mitch was in love with their friend Sarah and unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same way about Mitch as Sarah felt about him. But that was okay. He still had lots of time to find the person that would make his stomach flutter.

But spring semester came and went too.

Harry tried to find her. He went on dates with several women he met in classes and at parties. He heard the whispers and rumors about him. It made him a little sad that some of the women he went out with never corrected the rumors. His longest relationships were no more than a month, but Harry couldn’t help it that he didn’t feel the spark he was looking for and ended things before they really got going.

It was supposed to be all-encompassing. Make him breathless. Knock him to his knees. Maybe he was being ridiculous. At the age of almost twenty he was being unrealistic to want something like that. He was young. There was plenty of time for love.

But was it so bad that he wanted it now?

His dorm room with Mitch was a suite and they each had their own rooms. They decorated the main room with the help of Sarah to make it homey (and also stopped them before they used empty vodka bottles as décor). Their dorm was one of the “party” dorms, but they rarely hosted. Harry and Mitch wanted their place to be a safe place. It rarely saw more than ten people—and that was only when he and Mitch were pre-gaming with other friends to go to a party off campus. Sometimes Harry brought his friends back if they had too much to drink. It made him feel better knowing they were in a safe place. Sarah even brought back a girl that was too drunk to make any good decisions of her own accord. Harry minded over her with worry because the poor thing was all but sobbing as she threw up most of the night and whined about how sad she was.

Harry actually dated her for about a month after—some kind of savior complex that he should have known doomed their relationship from the start.

So, he kept waiting to find the love of his life. But he couldn’t help but feel discouraged as he complained to his mum and Gemma over the summer that he didn’t find her that first year.

“Honey bunny, it’s too early to think like that,” Anne smirked. “You’re so young.”

He shrugged. “I guess. M’jus’... Mitch has Sarah,” he reminded them.

“I know, but...” Gemma smiled sadly at him. “You’re not Mitch. It’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.”

Well Harry didn’t meet her the following year either. Twenty came and went. He continued hearing rumors about his body count. The only ones ready to defend him ever was Mitch and Sarah but he simply didn’t care. The girls he met at parties, bars, in class, they all continued to flirt with him and when Harry felt the hope of a spark, he chose to pursue it—not because of the rumors, not because he felt like he had to in order to find the love of his life, simply because he was young and enjoying his life.

But September of his third year.

Oh.

Harry was appalled that as a third-year student, any of his major professors deigned to have an eight-AM class. It felt like death as he walked with the throng of people headed to the correct buildings when the sun was barely high in the sky. His eyes felt droopy, and he was certain he yawned the entire walk from dorm room to classroom.

His backpack was slung over his shoulders. He shouldn’t have gone out last night. He wasn’t hungover, but he was just so tired. The chance of meeting the love of his life could have been at that party. That wasn’t an opportunity he was willing to miss.

“I told you,” Mitch muttered to him liking eight-AMs more than the average college student. Get it out of the way. He stuck his foot out causing Mitch to stumble a bit and he smirked with a low chuckle. “Idiot,” Mitch grumbled.

Harry didn’t know what he wanted to do with his degree yet. Another component of divine intervention he was hoping would appear in front of him. Love and career. He hoped the universe would help him figure both out sooner rather than later.

Mitch veered off to his own building and Harry counted down the minutes until he could trek back to his dorm room. Harry was yawning—again—and shook his head trying to perk himself up as he made it to the building where his classroom resided on his schedule.

Harry chose a seat in the back of the room. Put his head on the desk and tried not to think about how his bed might be his real soulmate.

Harry was much more awake now that his professor had re-sparked his interest in microeconomics. All his classes were econ-based this year and he was honestly super excited to look at different facets of his major and maybe that was divine intervention. He had four required economic electives: sports, law, history, and statistics. Additionally, he would be taking a math class that was a pre-requisite to the class he needed for next semester. He tried not to think about it too much.

With a pep in his step, he no longer felt like going back to his dorm and sleeping as he told Mitch he would be doing instead of joining him for breakfast. He wanted to go to his next class or the bookstore. He wanted to geek out over the intro lecture he just heard to someone that would care and wouldn’t brush off his nerdiness. What he really wanted was someone to kiss at the end of the day and tell him all about their classes and ask what he wanted to do for dinner—whether it was dining hall food or a date in town.

“Hi Harry,” someone called as he fantasized about his little dream life. He didn’t even see who it was, so he turned to catch a glimpse.

“Hi—” he started to call politely. If it was someone he knew, he didn’t want to be rude. As he turned, he must have shifted into the path of someone else’s walk to class. He bumped into someone with about half of his body. He knocked her phone out of her hand. Also made her stumble off the sidewalk a bit. “Oh, sorry, love,” he said bending for her phone before she could. The water bottle she had tucked in her bag also fell to the ground. “Are you alright?” He was hopeful he didn’t hurt her, but who knows, she could have tweaked her ankle on the edge of the walk and Harry would have felt horrendous for the whole rest of the day.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” her voice was a bit rushed. “I just transferred here this semester, and I’m all turned around and I’m going to be late—”

Harry glanced up at her having gathered her belongings from the dewy grass and finally caught her gaze. She stopped speaking when Harry looked at her. He swore his heart stopped. They were off the sidewalk, now. People were walking quickly to and from their classes. Harry could feel the gaze of people who knew him as he walked by. Trying to figure out who the girl was he was talking to.

Harry knew he hadn’t found the love of his life yet due to lack of connection. They liked Harry well enough, and he honestly was fortunate to have had a few girlfriends who were kind, intelligent, and pretty. Those he had dated the past two years simply didn’t scratch that itch for the fantasy he had: asking about his day, telling him about hers, and what did they want to do for dinner.

But this... angel he had bumped into...

She was going to star in all his fantasies now.

They hadn’t spoken in thirty seconds while Harry dreamed of happily ever after with her. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Where are y’headed?” He asked quietly.

She shook her head rapidly and pulled her phone from his hands. Harry tried to memorize everything about this moment. The concentrated expression on her face while she scanned her phone screen. “Umm... Livingston 210,” she sighed. “Am I going the complete wrong way?” She asked nervously. “God this is so embarrassing. I spent all day yesterday walking around trying to map out my paths and I had to park in a different lot, and I am the worst with maps and directions,” she rambled.

“No, no,” Harry shook his head. “S’this way. Let me walk you,” he offered. “You’re fine,” he promised glancing at his own watch. “You’ll... you’ll be early,” he reassured her.

She blew out a relieved breath. “Really? Don’t you have a class to get to?” She asked. “I don’t want to put you out—”

He shook his head quickly. “No, not... not at all, love,” he murmured. “M’happy t’do it. Got a break before m’next class.”

Her face took on this gorgeous smile that Harry wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forget. The relief was palpable. It seemed almost excessive, like he was a doctor and told her that she wasn’t ill and not that her class was only about a three-minute walk. But Harry adored that smile. The way her eyes lit up along with the curve of her lips. “Thank you, so so much. I’m so nervous and know absolutely no one—except my roommate. But she doesn’t have class until noon. Plus, my transfer credits went in late last week so the schedule I had planned is all different than the one I made in June. I really almost considered just leaving and transferring back—”

He chuckled at her little ramble. He liked it a lot. Way more than he probably should have for having met her only ninety seconds prior. He wondered if she always did that. The need to find out was nearly unbearable. How could he prolong the conversation? How could he get her number in the next two minutes it took her to walk to her class? “C’mon,” he tilted his head toward the direction he had come from.

Was he being ridiculous? Maybe.

But this was what he wanted. The way his heart stopped. He couldn’t ignore that. Was he holding his breath? Was she feeling the same warm tension that was covering his entire body with the need to look at her? This was it. She hadto be it. The love of his life. The first day of third year. His heart felt... whole.

“Oh good, this is familiar,” she sighed with relief. Chuckling, Harry held the building door open for her to pass through. “Do you like candy?” She asked as she entered.

Blinking curiously, Harry wondered if she had some conversation in her head that he wasn’t privy to that resulted in such a question. “M’sorry?”

“Candy?”

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he smiled at her curiously.

“Okay, I’ll get you candy as a thank you for walking me, then,” she promised with an assured nod of her head.

Harry was floored by her kindness to a stranger. It made him feel so overwhelmed that he ignored how ridiculous it all seemed for him to act like this. So that meant she wanted to see him again. He chuckled. “Y’don’t have t’do that, love. S’not out of m’way,” he reminded her.

“I know... but you don’t know me, and you look important.”

“Look important?” He repeated dumbly and gestured to the stairwell for her to ascend. He followed beside her hoping he didn’t look as creepy as he felt feeling so overwhelmed with how he already felt about her.

“I don’t know, everyone was staring at you while we walked over,” she shrugged.

He smirked. But he was surprised he missed that. Usually, he noticed when people called out to him. “Everyone?”

She nodded. “I think a few people even did a double take,” she explained. “So, you must be important.”

He rolled his eyes with another little laugh from his lips. “Uh...I don’t think m’important,” he admitted. They stood a few feet away from the door labeled 210. “S’really no trouble. I jus’ left m’eight AM from here,” he promised. “Was jus’ going t’get breakfast. M’happy t’help.”

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll get you candy,” she said glancing at her watch and then the classroom door. “I like to get a good seat for the lecture. I’ll... see you around...?” She waited for him to fill in the missing information.

“Harry,” he said wiping his hand on his leg before holding it out for her to take. The first time he would touch who he was certain was the love of his life.

“Harry,” she repeated, placing her hand in his while introducing herself as well. “I’ll see you around.”

His heart was aching with something that had to be a cross between infatuation and undeniable love. Her hand felt so nice in his and it was just a handshake. Imagining their fingers twined together made him ache with want. “Wait,” he said right as her hand touched the doorknob. “Where’s y’next class?” He asked. She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened her schedule. “Uh... Sawyer,” she said reading off her phone. Harry’s heart leapt. “312.”

He felt tingles all through his body. From fingertip to his stomach, to the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. “Yeah?” He asked rhetorically. The question was more for the universe; it’s way of telling Harry she was here. “I’ll walk you,” he promised. “We’re in the same class.”

She turned her face briefly from him—maybe an effort to hide the blush that was covering her cheeks and making Harry fall even harder for her. “Yeah?” She wondered.

He nodded. “I’ll meet y’at the front of the building when class gets out, yeah?”

She smiled. “Okay, thanks, Harry,” she sighed with relief heading through the doorway. “Enjoy your break,” she called over her shoulder.

Harry floated back down the steps. Honestly, he wanted to wait outside her classroom, but he just met her, and he wanted—no needed—this to work. Wanted it to work more than anything. The smile plastered on his face had his cheeks hurting but he couldn’t stop. He nearly sprinted to the closest dining hall where he told Mitch he would meet him for breakfast.

“Sorry, m’late. I jus’ met the woman m’going t’marry,” his voice was all airy, falling into a seat beside Mitch with a dreamy look on his face.

“Whoa,” Mitch chuckled. “You look sick.”

“I feel sick,” he laid down onto a second chair. Backpack still on. He looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. He was in love.

“Glad you met her, Harry. Finally, right? Can you act like an adult?” Mitch muttered cutting up the waffle he had on his plate. Sitting up he smiled at his friend.

“We have class together next.”

“Isn’t that your math class?” He wondered. He thought about the schedule Harry was insistent about putting on the fridge so they could find each other if needed while at home. For emergencies. But Mitch didn’t understand why the schedule needed to be on the fridge if Harry made him commit it to memory anyway.

“Yeah, so?”

“You hate math.”

“No one likes math,” he grumbled.

“Maybe she does. Maybe she’s not your soulmate.”

“Shut up,” he dropped his bag in his seat and headed to get food. Upon returning with his tray, about three other people said hello to him. One girl stopped him asking if he was coming to her party this weekend and one of the guys that he knew from his pickup soccer games asked if he was available tomorrow night for a game at the rec field. “If she likes math then... jus’ mean she completes me. Still m’soulmate,” he shrugged.

“You got an answer for everything,” Mitch laughed.

Harry found her sitting on the barrier wall to the mini garden outside the building. One of her legs stretched along the length of the cement ledge and the other dangled off the side. With the need to get her to class on time, Harry didn’t have time to ogle her at all. But now, as he approached her, he noted she was wearing a pair of jeans and a pair of trainers. Obviously, her worry about being late to class must have meant she considered sprinting if it got late enough. Her T-shirt was this light orange-pink color. Like she was modeling a sunset. She had a book propped on her thigh and she leaned over reading, like she was simultaneously doing yoga while reading.

“Hey,” he called. Her head perked up and she smiled, putting a bookmark in between the pages and swinging her leg over to say hi.

“Hi!” She chirped excitedly. “I was afraid I missed you when I ran back inside.”

Back inside? He frowned. “Did y’class end early?”

“Yeah... almost a half hour ago,” she shrugged hopping off the ledge. “Syllabus and all. Doesn’t happen that often to me—I’m majoring in accounting and finance, so all my classes just jump right into the lectures and lessons. But this is a sociology class that my other school didn’t offer but I have to take here to graduate,” she explained with an eyeroll. “They were insistent.”

“M’sorry y’had to wait,” he frowned.

“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled. “I got to read a bit and—oh!” She twisted her backpack around her body and into the zip pocket. She retrieved whatever item she was looking for and held it out for him to take. “For walking me,” her voice was so sweet.

Harry felt his jaw fall open just a bit as she placed the Twix bar in his hand. “Twix is my favorite, but I got Starbursts too if that’s more your vibe. Reese’s if you like peanut butter. I wanted a variety just in case and it won’t go to waste regardless—”

“Twix is m’favorite, too,” he said turning the bar over in his hands. He looked up at her as if she really was placed right in his path. Fate. Out of nowhere. Like a star exploding out in the universe and dropping this angel in its spot.

She smiled. “Excellent,” she said. “Where’s Sawyer, then?” She asked while zipping her bag again and heading toward the walkway when he walked her to the building earlier. “I want a good seat,” she reminded him. Since she got him his favorite candy bar—and simply because she existed and was without a doubt going to be his favorite, period—he wanted to make sure she got the seat she wanted.

He wanted to make sure she got whatever she wanted.

Was it normal to want to hold someone’s hand like this? Harry’s immediate thought was no. It wasn’t normal. Wanting to hold hands with someone the way he was craving to hold her hand had to be the most abnormal thing in existence. Every Tuesday and Thursday for the next three weeks, he waited outside Livingston, watching her descend the front staircase to the main floor. They chatted the entire ten-minute walk to Sawyer where they shared a math class. She insisted on sitting closer to the front than Harry would ever consider but he was immediately enamored with how sweet she was and there was no way he could let someone else sit beside her.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were slowly becoming his favorite days of the week. They were his weekend even with a packed schedule on the two days. Talking to her was everything he had been longing for the last two years of school.

On Sunday, he slept until almost ten-thirty. He was lying in bed while scrolling through his array of social media and other correspondences. He heard the shower running, so either Sarah or Mitch must have been well after a night of drinking.

Three weeks. After three weeks of pining and walking her to and from class, he got an email on a Sunday.

The subject line read: Be-Twix you and me I’m glad we’re friends. He threw himself out of his bed and paced the main room trying to figure out if it was Mitch or Sarah in the shower. He knocked. “Sarah!”

“Sorry, Harry. She’s sleeping,” Mitch called.

He opened the door anyway. “She emailed me.”

“How 2002 of her,” he snorted.

“You’re useless,” Harry grumbled closing the door shut. He truly considered barging into Mitch’s room and waking Sarah for a girl’s opinion but after doing the very same and seeing way more than he was supposed to of his two friends, he opted for figuring it out himself. He vaguely wondered if there was a way to open an email faster. He must have read it a thousand times and it was only four sentences long.

Hi Harry!

I was wondering if you would want to study for our exam together? I like having someone to study with, but if that’s not your vibe I understand :) Let me know either way! This is my number if you would prefer texting.

Harry thought there were no prettier ten numbers than the ones that formed her phone number. He was immediately ready to text her but luckily had the wherewithal of checking the time stamp of the email to see if he was looking desperate but struggling to care. Fortunately, the email was from a little after seven-thirty.

He could have chatted with her for three hours longer if he hadn’t slept so late.

Hi, it’s Harry 😊

Hi! Glad my email didn’t scare you off. My roommate said that my Twix pun was horrendous.

It’s adorable. Thank you for emailing. I’d love to study. I work until five... I can meet you somewhere?

Do you like coffee?

I love coffee 😊

Do you think it will be cold around five? I’m still getting used to the weather around here. I want to bring a coat.

Harry made a mental note to pack an extra sweatshirt in case she got too cold. Can’t hurt to bring one. You never know what the weather will do around here.

Forty minutes a week.

Forty blissful, perfect minutes in the month of September had been spent chatting with the stranger that bumped into her on the first day of the fall semester. The sun was warm despite the breeze chilling her skin. It wasn’t nearly enough time but she somehow managed to fall incredibly hard for him anyway.

It was a bit ridiculous.

Her roommate—and only friend—was also a transfer student. However, Allie was much more outgoing than she was. That wasn’t to say she didn’t have fun; it was just different than how Allie enjoyed herself. Allie made friends everywhere she went. Their off-campus but university-owned apartment was always in flux of visitors from her classes, her club tennis team, or just someone she met while eating lunch in the dining hall between classes.

Allie was a good judge of character though, so she never worried about someone of bad rapport traipsing through their place. Also, Allie was always sure to keep everyone away from her room, of course.

But Allie had no problem flopping on her bed around ten in the morning and nosily glancing over her shoulder. She had left her email open anxiously waiting for a reply from the most handsome guy she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. “Be-Twix?! Sweetie, that’s atrocious,” she rolled her eyes. She groaned in response.

“I... I don’t know,” her face felt hot with shame. She really liked Harry. “It seemed like a good idea at the time... maybe that’s why he’s not answering me,” she frowned.

“Maybe he just sleeps like a normal college student and doesn’t wake up at the ass-crack of dawn,” she said knowingly patting her knee reassuringly.

“Have you seen the leaves?” She whispered almost in awe. “I went for a walk to get a bagel and—”

“I’ve seen them,” Allie smiled with a shake of her head at her silly friend. The adoration she had for little things was admirable, sweet, and just... if Harry Styles broke her heart, she would break his face. “I lived here my whole life, remember?”

But she didn’t live here her whole life. So, she was in awe—her first true fall since she was a toddler that she didn’t even remember. There were pictures of her jumping into a pile of leaves with her mom that her dad had just painstakingly raked. The south didn’t have pretty leaves like this in the fall. Palm leaves didn’t change color other than wilting brown when it was too hot. She intended to spend every minute looking at the beautiful hues of orange, red, and yellow so as not to miss the pretty season she hadn’t gotten to enjoy for most of her life.

After another agonizing thirty minutes of waiting for him to respond (and breathing with sweet relief that he did want to see her later) she told Harry that she was worried about it being cold later in the evening. She had grown up closer to the Tropic of Cancer which was now roughly 15 degrees south of her current latitude. She hated the heat; it made her skin feel dirty and oily with sweat all summer long. Her hair was too thick, her skin naturally too warm. Just thinking about her thighs sticking to her leather car seat in July was horrific.

But her parents had grown up and met here on this pretty autumn-picturesque campus. Somewhere not quite freezing (at least not yet, so she had been told) but not quite suffocating with heat like home. They left here when she was two to situate themselves in Hell’s sauna room. After taking the general requirement classes at a state school, she wanted to transfer up north to the university where her parents fell in love. Call her a hopeless romantic, but if she hadn’t found the love of her life amongst the bathing suit, half-clad guys on the beach during the last two spring breaks, then he probably wasn’t in the south. Instead, she hoped she might find him around the ski slopes.

She hadn’t anticipated finding Harry before her first class started.

Forty minutes.

That was how much time Harry generously gave her outside their shared class combined on Tuesday and Thursday each week.

She wanted more. Greedy with want and didn’t know how to do it without tying it to school. Part of her worried because what if he just pitied her and now didn’t know how to get away from her? They had class together; he couldn’t be rude. Even if he didn’t like her the way she was already falling for him, it was very obvious that Harry was a good person.

“Just be careful,” Allie warned lightly. “Harry has a bit of a reputation I hear.”

She frowned and shrugged. She knew what Allie meant. People around her weren’t exactly subtle and while she listened to music in the dining hall while she ate, or studied in the library, or even just read her book. Those around her whispered. They had seen the pair of them walking to class. Apparently, Harry never looked like that before. The whispers included Harry having plenty of girlfriends. Sometimes two or even three at a time. That just seemed ridiculous, and she felt so sad others talked about him behind his back. There were even quiet bets about how long she would last in the list of Styles’ conquests.

So, she understood that Allie was just trying to look out for her. “Well... I like him. He doesn’t have a reputation around me,” she shrugged. Allie frowned for a moment. She was so sweet.

“Just be careful with your heart,” Allie looked at her with a bit of worry in her eye. But her smile was encouraging. “It’s too good for university guys.”

She had only known Allie about three months longer than she had known Harry. They both moved in at the start of the summer, working off campus and getting to know one another as well as the area (not that it helped her directionally illiterate mind). Allie was lovely and all the things she wanted in a college-best-friend that she never really got from commuting to the local college when she lived down south. “I think you would like him.”

“I can like him and still want someone better for you,” she shrugged leaning in the doorway. She didn’t want to taint the image of perfect Harry. But the stories she heard weren’t easy to ignore. She had seen him at parties since her best friend met him on her way to her sociology class. It was hard to miss him. It was like he was the star of every party.

He drank with his friends and girls obsessed over him. To her friend’s nearly naïve point of view, however, Allie hadn’t seen Harry flirt back. He was helpful and kind to those that drank too much; guiding them outside and gently pulling a girl’s hair back for when she threw up in the shrubs. It was endearing in a lot of ways. But she would still kill him if the rumors of a string of girls was true. If her new best friend was just another notch in his belt, Harry was dead. “You are so sweet to believe in the good in everyone. I just don’t want you to be heartbroken if he isn’t as lovely as you think.”

She smirked looking at the emojis and rapid influx of messages Harry was sending her trying to coordinate timing and picking her up, so she didn’t have to walk. “I won’t,” she promised. But she didn’t say that she thought he was better.

Harry was fifteen minutes late. He blamed the table he was waiting on before he left. They were overbearing and wanted their meal comped—that much was obvious. Looking for the smallest hiccups to rebuke him. Harry begged his manager to seat them in another section. Having waited on them before, but no dice. His heart was in his throat wishing he had time to go home and change but he couldn’t. If he was a moment later, he was sure he was ruining everything.

Unaware of Harry’s worry, she waited patiently on the bench outside the apartment building the university had taken as more dorm suites. She continued reading her book trying not to think about how maybe Harry had better things to do than study for a math class on a Sunday. Especially after work. But he had texted her he was running late, and he was on his way.

She was glad she decided on a coat, it wasn’t freezing, but her thick skin ill-suited for hot weather was already thawing and feeling the chill of the early October weather. She spent an embarrassingly long time sorting through her athleisure wear trying to decide. Something suitable for studying at a coffee shop that wasn’t overstated but not quite sweatpants.

Right when she thought about calling Harry, he appeared in front of the bench. Parking and getting out of his car quickly and hurrying to the passenger side. “I am so sorry,” he said hurriedly dragging a hand through his curls. She admired the motion; enjoying how mussing them didn’t matter much and they fell right back into place. She cleared her throat and shook herself out of her own staring at him.

“For what?”

“M’so late, love. S’rude. M’sorry,” he repeated.

“Oh...it’s...it’s really okay. I was already out here—”

“S’cold,” he frowned eyeing her sweatshirt and the coat at her side.

“I’m okay!” She promised. “Is everything alright?” She asked and stepped toward him putting her hand on his forearm. He thought he might explode at the feeling of her skin on his. It was more intimate than their handshake, and she got the feeling she wanted to twine their fingers together again.

Harry seemed to breathe with a sigh of relief, and he looked at her with this stunned expression. She couldn’t figure out why. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Jus’ felt bad being late.”

“Oh,” she blinked. “That’s okay. I wasn’t in a rush or anything—”

“No, love,” he shook his head. “M’sorry because I wanted t’see you so bad,” he sighed. He ran his hand through his hair again making her heart take off at a speed that had to be unsafe for her health. Almost immediately she felt light-headed. He wanted to see her. He just told her that. There was no hiding it. She could feel that emotion thick in his voice.

“Oh,” she repeated, completely stunned and confused. “Really?” She asked in complete shock.

“Yes, very, very much,” he sighed dreamily.

Her cheeks warmed hotly under his gaze. The pair of them stood there. Staring at one another as if they were statues destined to look at one another for all eternity, frozen in time to capture a moment like theirs. The October air was rapidly cooling, but she couldn’t feel anything but heat. Like she had stepped out of the airport terminal back in the south except this heat was not suffocating. It was so welcoming.

For a few moments they just stood there, her hand touching his forearm, gazing at one another. Part of her thought it would be nice to be a statue on the street. At least if Harry was beside her. Eventually, he shook his head ever so slightly and smirked. “So...coffee?”

She cleared her throat, smiling brightly. “Please.”

Just one week later, she was chatting with a friend from her sociology class. The moment he saw Harry, he knew Harry was there waiting for her, just as he had been since they met a month earlier. Harry recognized him from attending many parties that his frat hosted at one of the houses someone had off campus. His eyes seemed a bit surprised to see Harry waiting at the bottom of the steps, doing a double take at him waiting for the girl he was walking with down the steps.

“Hey Harry,” the guy said quietly.

“Hi!” She chirped gleefully. Her excited smile felt like too much on her face, but she had no way of knowing. She also didn’t notice the turmoil the guy felt seeing the competition between himself and Harry. (If she did know, she would flat out tell him there was no competition—other than school, Allie, and work, her mind was all about Harry.)

“Hi,” he said politely with a smile and turned toward the person he actually cared about talking to. “Y’ready for math, love?” He asked gently.

“Always,” she started for the main door. “See you around!” she called sweetly over her shoulder.

On Saturday, Allie asked if she wanted to go to a party with her. She was more than happy to stay in and read her book. But she teased her. “Harry might be there,” she winked knowingly.

As much as she didn’t pay any attention to the rumors about Harry, it was hard to fully ignore them the way she wanted to. It wasn’t that she distrusted Harry. No, if anything, she believed in him more than anyone else. But it did sound like Harry had a different party persona. She was not a party person. Honestly, she wanted him to have fun they way he wanted to. Going to a party just because he was there...

“That’s alright, I think—”

“Oh, come on!” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll help you get all dolled up and we’ll just have a couple drinks, and we can leave if you hate it. But if Harry is as smitten as you say he is, I bet he won’t let you leave,” she giggled.

Her face warmed at her friend’s assumption and she tried to picture a scenario in which someone as attractive as Harry would worry about little ole her like that. “Isn’t it cold out?”

“So wear another sweater!” Allie rolled her eyes.

“That’s not very college party of me.”

“Well, I would suggest an alcohol blanket, but I feel like getting you drunk before you even see Harry would be bad.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ll make me look pretty?” She asked quietly at her friend in the doorway.

“Prettier,” Allie nodded assuredly.

“Alright,” she sighed. “Let’s go to a party.”

Allie’s arm was looped through hers. It was freezing out. But honestly it felt nice. She was just a bit shivery. “I thought you said I could wear another sweater.”

“Sweetie, hiding your assets at a party would be criminal.”

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. They entered the door, dodging the guy standing at the door to keep people in and out very quickly. “Hey Allie,” he said.

She waved in response and headed right inside. She thought maybe it was a good thing Allie told her to skip the sweater. The heat inside the house was nearly as warm and humid as the airport terminal. The air was thick with the sour smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat. “I don’t know how people want to hook up with anybody around here. I can’t think of very many places that are less of an aphrodisiac.”

Allie smirked and pushed the pair of them through a throng of bodies toward the kitchen. She grabbed two red cups from the sleeve of them off the counter and asked the makeshift bartender—surely some poor freshmen pledge—to pour them drinks. Her gut felt a little off about the gesture. “I don’t know, Al,” she whispered softly.

“I’ve had them here before,” Allie promised reassuringly. She still wasn’t thrilled with the idea as she took the cup from her friend.

“Hey Allie!” Someone called. Allie turned, looking over her shoulder as she called back over the pounding music. Meanwhile she looked at the liquid sloshing along with the ice. She thought maybe she should have taken her chances with the jungle juice—no one would be stupid enough to touch that, even if it would end with her throwing it all back up at the end of the night.

The pair of them circled around the house, briefly stopping to watch the end of a rousing game of beer pong. The winning person slammed his beer back, dripping along the sides of his mouth triumphantly which made her smile. Allie rolled her eyes and tugged her out back. A bon fire was in the middle of the yard. Another sober freshman pledge, undoubtedly in charge of standing guard. The music was still loud but way less aggressive outside. There were other large groups of people outside as well chattering and drinking away. Allie worked quick; left her alone by the fire—which she was grateful for since it was warm. When Allie returned, she was already sipping her second drink, holding a third, and dropping her empty cup in the trash bin right near the house. Oof, her head was going to kill tomorrow.

“Harry’s here,” Allie whispered to her as she got close to her again. There was a twinge in her knees, like she might fall at the mere thought of him. It took all her self-restraint to not whip around to catch a glimpse of him. She wasn’t playing hard to get, but this was very much not her scene. She didn’t want to intrude on whatever fun he was having. “You should go say hi,” Allie nudged her.

She smirked, wanting to take a sip of her drink but still feeling hesitant so she just put the cup to her lips, like she was pretending to sip it. “Uh...maybe later. I don’t want to interrupt,” she responded directly in Allie’s ear. The good news was she managed to peek over her shoulder to see him standing a little ways away from the fire. It was too dark to make out any specific features or defining muscles but just the way he stood was hot. She felt insane for thinking such a thing, but it was impossible not to. He was so cute. He had one hand in his front pocket, a drink in the other hand, and just a plaid flannel layered over another plaid flannel. His eyes and smile were lost in the dark, but she could picture it. The light evergreen color that was simply her new favorite color along with the pinkest most adorable lips curling across his face and making dimples in his cheeks that would make the Grand Canyon jealous of their depth.

“I think he would probably die if you interrupted,” she snickered.

Briefly, she entertained the idea. She could ask how Harry was doing on his homework, but that wasn’t the best party talk in the world (even if she did want to know). But she was still a little nervous, especially outside class, their walk, and even their study not-quite date to chat with him about anything. A party was more than likely his element. She could see why. Girls were surrounding him ogling very much the same things that she probably ogled on her way to math class. He was easy to talk to, sweet, and of course very handsome.

She shook her head. “Do they have s’mores?” She asked suddenly.

Allie spit her drink back into her cup and laughed. “Jesus Christ,” Allie rolled her eyes. “No; college-students don’t have s’mores at a party.”

She frowned. “I feel like this party would be a lot better if it did,” she grumbled.

Allie wrapped her arm over her shoulder. “Don’t ever change, please,” she kissed her cheek. She laughed lightly.

“If we had a party with a fire, I promise there would be s’mores,” she was very decisive. “It seems sinful to not have them.”

“Hey, love.”

She felt her whole body stiffen and somehow soften at the same time. They both turned to his voice and now she could see in the firelight, that the red colors of his flannel contrasted so sharply with his eyes. The green seemed to amplify—even in the dark. “Hi, Harry,” she smiled sweetly.

“Didn’t know y’would be here.”

“Yeah...uh... this is my best friend and roommate Allie,” she gestured to the girl beside her. “She invited me,” she explained.

“Hi, Harry,” Allie held her hand out. “Heard lots about you. And seen you around a lot,” she said knowingly.

“Hi, Allie,” he said sweetly shaking her hand politely. “Thanks for bringing her,” he grinned winking at her flirtatiously. “Can I steal her from you?” he asked. “If s’alright with you,” he turned back to her, looking into her eyes so deeply she swore he was reading her mind. Not that there were any other thoughts than Harry, Harry, Harry.

“Listen Harry,” Allie said squaring her shoulders.

“Oh my God, Al,” she shoved her back a bit. “Don’t.”

Harry took a step away and looked back at Allie nervously. “This is my best friend,” Allie said with the third drink doing most of the talking.

“Allie!” She hissed.

“I love her so much,” tipsy-Allie was very loving and adoring. A bit flighty too. If she didn’t have a rush of alcohol spinning her blood quickly through her, she might have been a little less aggressive.

“I see,” Harry smiled. “I will take really good care of her Allie. I promise. Y’have nothing t’worry ‘bout,” he shoved a hand back in his pocket. He looked at her shyly, knowing that Harry was also talking directly to her and not just her tipsy best friend. “I should have asked though,” he said with a smile. “D’you...want t’hang out a bit?” He asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“How polite,” Allie snickered. Her smile faded rapidly as she glared back at Harry. If she wasn’t so focused on him, she might have missed the way he gulped nervously. “Don’t break her heart, Harry,” she pointed accusingly at him.

“Allie, enough!” She pressed a hand over her face.

“Don’t leave without me, either. I’ll be with my friends,” she said and flitted away as if there was nothing abnormal about her behavior.

“I’m so sorry about her,” she whispered still with a hand over her face. Harry chuckled and shook his head.

“No, s’okay. S’good she cares ‘bout you so much,” he nodded. “I agree completely,” he assured her. “M’really glad t’see you. I was so surprised and distracted...I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have asked first t’steal y’away...” he glanced at her full cup. “Don’t like your drink?” He asked.

“Um...no, well. Kind of. I’m a little wary of accepting it from someone I don’t know.”

Harry didn’t try to talk her out of how she felt which made her heart flutter more. “S’a good point...d’you want t’walk to the bar down the road?” He asked.

“I’d have to leave Allie,” she smirked. “Not sure I want to put that on someone else.”

“Hold on,” he said and rushed off to the house. It was only a couple minutes, if that. But he reappeared with a can in his hand. “I pulled it out of the fridge when the kid was turned,” he smirked.

She giggled. “My hero,” she laughed and sipped it without fear.

“So... d’you want t’go...find some place quieter t’talk?”

She glanced at the house. “Is there somewhere to talk?” She asked.

“Yeah... m’friend Niall and his friends are hosting. He’s got a keypad lock on his door, and I know the code t’his bedroom.”

“You always try to get girls into your friend’s room?” She asked quirking an eyebrow at him while sipping her drink. He chuckled and shook his head.

“No, s’nothing like that, love. Jus’ want some privacy.”

“Well, that’s fine by me, even by the fire, it’s chilly out here.”

“You’re cold? Here,” he pulled off the top flannel and draped it on her shoulders then put a hand on her lower back to guide her back toward the house. She could feel the stares of others on them as they meandered back. “S’not even winter yet. S’gonna be tough on your southern blood,” he smiled.

She smiled. “My parents are from here. I think there’s some northerner in me yet. Just got to get it out of hibernation.”

Harry chuckled. “You’ll still need a coat, love,” he promised.

If Harry was going to offer his own clothing to her, she wasn’t sure she’d want to bring her own coat at all.

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#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #my friend's toyota

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golbrocklovely · 1 year

Text

privacy please // colby brock

A/N: me, posting more than once a month??? INCREDIBLE. i was midway thru writing "let's fall in love for tonight" when this idea popped into my head and i just had to write it down. part of this is inspired by a tiktok i saw of a girl talking about a time she was hooking up with a guy. i wish i could find the tiktok and share it with you all bc the moment she said what she said.... i just knew i had to include it in a fic at some point lol so shoutout to that girl. this is a short fic/blurb bc i have some other fics lined up that are gonna be full blown smut so i don't want to tucker myself out writing smut only. and if you see me using what happens in this fic in other fics.... say nothing sksks lmk what you think and i'll see you guys next time <3

prompt: you and colby just want some privacy, but the only place you can get it is in his car. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: light smut (no actual sex), cursing, making out in a car, fluff, already established relationship

word count: 1363

~~~~~~~~

"This is so ridiculous." Colby groaned, pulling away from our kiss.

I giggled, staring up at his annoyed face. "No it's not, it's kinda fun."

"How is this fun? I feel like I'm gonna pull a hamstring." He scoffed.

I sassed him, rolling my eyes. "Well, it's your fault you don't have a car big enough for your five foot eleven ass."

"I don't think I was meant to lay out horizontally in my car." He replied back, just as snarky.

"Well, blame Toyota," I sat up on my elbows, huffing. Does he think I'm comfortable in this cramped back seat? "Or better yet, Sam and Kat for wanting to have their friends over when all we want to do is fuck."

"Maybe if you weren't so loud, we could have sex in my room without everyone knowing." Colby raised an eyebrow at me daringly. I could see his bottom lip quiver as he tried to hold back a laugh.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You never seemed to have a problem with my screaming before. I'll gladly remember next time you're begging me to say your name to be quiet."

He gasped, legitimately upset. "Begging?! I don't beg."

"'C'mon baby, say my name.'" I mocked in a deep voice. "What's that sound like to you?"

"Commanding!" He barked.

"Not when you're breathy it ain't!" I jeered sarcastically.

Colby sat up quickly, pouting jokingly. He kept my legs on his lap, his hands cupping my ankles. I sighed deeply, smiling up at the ceiling of the car. "Are you really not enjoying this?"

He chuckled, the 'tension' in the car defusing. "I enjoy any time I get to be alone with you."

I hummed, "Good to know. I think this is kinda exciting. It feels like I'm a teenager again, sneaking around with a boyfriend my mom doesn't know about."

"Am I, like, your edgy boyfriend?" He questioned, side eyeing me.

"Oh yeah. You have tattoos, wear all black, curse, drink..." I gasped, "Oh my God, you're, like, so cool."

Colby bit his lip, staring at me intensely. "Get over here."

He grabbed my wrists lightly, pulling me up. I straddled him, a soft grunt falling from his lips as a I settled onto his lap. "Much better." He murmured.

I studied his face for a moment, taking in all the little details I could. The way his hair fell, covering his forehead. The lovely shape of his eyebrows, manicured without him trying - which was honestly the most annoying thing about him. He also had surprisingly long eyelashes for a man, something I was jealous about as well. His eyes - which of course were to die for. So blue and deep. I had stared into them so many times I had lost count. I never saw the end of them, never studied them long enough to know every intricate detail about them. I don't think there would ever be enough time to do that.

"Hi." Colby whispered, softly smiling.

A light blush came to my cheeks, "Hi."

My hands cupped his face sweetly, his eyes closing at the feeling. I gazed at his cheeks; how adorable they were. I would try my best to remind him that even though he didn't like them himself, I enjoyed his "chubby" cheeks. His dimples. Oh my GOD, his dimples. If I could, I would take a picture of every time I was able to make his dimples appear. I would fill a whole photo album of just his face smiling. And I can't forget his nose. His nose was so... masculine, in an interesting way. It fit his face perfectly. Angular with a slight point.

And then of course his lips. I've had dreams of just kissing him. Of just staring at his mouth. Sometimes it's hard to pay attention to him when he talks because all I can think about is his lips and what they've done to me, and what they plan to do.

He laced his fingers through mine, finally breaking the silence in the car. "What's going on in that head of yours? You look so lost in thought."

"I'm just... looking at you." I confessed.

"You like what you see?" He mumbled.

"Love." I emphasized.

He nodded his head, his eyes filled with adoration. He rested his forehead against mine, our lips brushing. His hand slid out of mine, meeting his other on the small of my back. "You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me."

"The feeling is completely mutual." I agreed.

"Good to know...." He leaned in and pecked my lips gently, almost taking my breath away. He pushed my body into his, pressing me as closely as he could. I deepened the kiss, my fingers tugging on his hair. His tongue slid into my mouth, a moan leaving my lips. My hips naturally grinded down onto him, his hands gripping my waist a little harder from the friction.

He moved his mouth from mine, kissing down my neck and finding the perfect spot in seconds. I lulled my head back, allowing him to attack my neck with his lips and tongue and teeth. I whimpered, my hips bucking against his. He pushed his up, grinding just against the right spot to make my breath hitch. I could feel him getting harder under me, pressing against me in the most sinful way. His hands drifted to my thighs, rubbing up and down them.

"You know..." Colby chimed in, breathlessly. "I really love these fishnets."

I uttered, in a daze. "Wha-?"

He continued his motions, causing goosebumps to form on my skin, "I really like that you wear fishnets. They look so sexy on you."

I cleared my throat, finally able to think again. "Um, thank you."

"It's too bad they just take forever to get off." He somewhat grumbled, dropping his head.

I shrugged halfheartedly. "Yeah, I guess."

"How many pairs do you have?" He asked, looking back up at me.

"Of fishnets? Like five or so." I guessed.

Colby nodded. "And how much was this pair?

"What?" I squinted at him, confused. He blinked, wanting me to continue. "Uh, they were like $25."

"Okay...." He paused, his hands resting on top of my thighs. "Remind me to pay you back."

Before I could say anything, Colby's grip tightened on the fishnets. His fingers laced through the holes in the material. He pulled his arms back, ripping the fishnets with ease. I shuttered at his action, gasping in awe, anger, and lust at seeing him tear them without any problems. Feeling them rip from my body, my skin now exposed, caused heat to rush to my sex. My underwear grew even more wet as my eyes met his dark ones.

"Colby! What the fuck?!" I yelled.

"Don't tell me you didn't like that." He grew close to my face, his voice lowering, "Don't lie to me, baby."

I stammered, trying to form words under his lustful gaze. "T-That's not the point. What are you, an animal?"

"Only with you, darling." He whispered harshly.

My breath raced as I glared into Colby's eye. He had such a devilish look to him, and while I was pissed he would rip my favorite tights, it was also extremely hot.

"Fuck, I hate you." I yanked his face forward, forcing his lips onto mine deeply. He smirked against the kiss, humming a response playfully. I snaked my tongue into his mouth, needing to taste him.

He pulled away, catching his breath at my expense. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can't exactly get on top of you."

"If you have to fuck me in the trunk, then so be it. I just need you to do it now." I gripped his shirt, wanting it off his body.

He laughed darkly. "I don't know... you're demanding a lot for someone that's very breathy."

"Colby, don't fucking tease me." I grabbed his hand, sliding it into my underwear and putting his fingers against my heat. I breathed, "I'm so wet for you."

He swallowed hard, his pupils dilating. "Okay... I think we can manage something."

#colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock blurb #colby brock smut #colby brock fluff #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock one shot #colby brock oneshot

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narryffdreaming · 5 months

Text

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — ONE

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

Rating: +18

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

Author's note: You have no idea how much I love these characters and how nervous I am to finally share this story again. I posted ATTTF for the first time back in 2022 but never got to finish it, so I'm hoping I'll get to do it this time! If you read this, I hope you enjoy it, and please be gentle with them! (lol)

PART ONE: 5,4k words

The sky is still dark when the Uber driver drops Aurora off at Stansted airport.

The polite man, who just kept her company for an hour and a half, wishes her a safe trip, and Aurora smiles, waving him a last goodbye and wishing him a good day right before she shuts the door of his black Toyota Prius. Once alone, a light breeze tickles her shoulders, but she doesn't give it enough time to settle as she rearranges the strap of the navy duffel bag on her shoulder and turns around, then sets her feet into motion.

Hopefully, she isn't late. She doesn't think she is. She left the house forty minutes before she needed to, and the ride to get there was shorter than expected because of the early hour, so she shouldn't be.

Still, she wants to make sure.

Just in case.

You can blame it on the fact that she hasn't spent a weekend with her friends in years. Or that it is the first time she's going out since… Well, since everything in her life turned upside down.

The strap of her bag slips from her shoulder, and Aurora catches it between her fingers. She puts it back in place and tightens her grip around the soft fabric, turning sideways to squeeze herself between a group of people that's happily chatting on the sidewalk. An apology leaves her mouth as she runs past them, but they don't seem to care nor notice they're standing in her way — or in everyone's way.

Has the Stansted airport always been this crowded?

The lights are bright outside, and the glass walls reveal how equally well-lit it is inside the terminal building. When she reaches the automatic doors, they take a moment to open, and she stops. It gives her enough time to catch a glimpse of her reflection, and her stomach quivers. Her hair is messy, the sports bag she's carrying doesn't match the maxi dress she's wearing, and she's showing off too much cleavage for a woman her age.

Those are too many things to notice in one quick glance, and she wishes she hadn't. Still, it is too early in the morning to feel insecure about the way she looks, and she doesn't have time for that. She has a flight to catch.

(Also, she really needs to pee right now.)

So she breathes in deeply and darts her eyes down, then takes her free hand up to her chest and pulls the fabric up. When she moves next, she keeps her sight fixed on the floor, then grabs the pendant of her necklace between her fingers and walks through the doors, biting the flesh inside of her cheek and fidgeting with the gold disk as her feet drag her inside the airport.

Everything feels slow and heavy. And there's a mix of nervousness and anticipation that's building up inside her. It's unsettling, but it keeps her moving, at least.

Once inside, Aurora looks up again. She turns her head to one side, then to the other, short nails never letting go of her necklace.

The wide open area in front of her leads to multiple check-in desks from several different airlines, but she ignores all of them, aiming solemnly on the huge departure boards placed around the terminal.

She doesn't have any luggage to drop, and her boarding pass is printed and ready inside her bag — and, just in case, there's also a copy of it saved on her phone — but she wants to make sure she won't be running late if she takes another five minutes for a quick run to the toilets before standing in line to get through security.

Her determination drives her forward, and she only stops walking when she's right in front of the closest monitor. She blinks a couple of times, making sense of all the information while searching for the only flight she cares about. And it only takes her a minute till she finds it:

6:45, Ryanair, Naples.

She drops her shoulders, and a yawn eases from her mouth, along with a shaky laughter.

She is fine. Everything's just fine. Desks aren't even open for check-in yet, so she has plenty of time to go to the bathroom and wake herself up. There's no need to collapse.

At some point she'll have to face the fact that she didn't sleep at all last night, but she plans to keep herself together and entertained until she's settled on her 2 hours and 45 minutes flight.

Then, she'll sleep.

Aurora turns around, and wanders her eyes to find the nearest toilets. She can't tell when was the last time she's been at Stansted Airport, but everything feels different from what she remembers. Did they go through renovations? Or has it always been big and hectic like this?

Well, it's not like Aurora is familiar with airports, anyway. She doesn't travel that much, and London has too many of them for her to get familiar with. The last time she went somewhere — anywhere — was for Noah's birthday, when she and Zack took him to Disneyland Paris for a quick celebration. They took a flight from Heathrow, though, and that place was so big that it did nothing but overwhelm her. So much that she barely remembers it.

Her chest tightens, and she closes her hand in a fist around the pendant.

A lot has changed since Noah's third birthday. In fact, everything changed because of Noah's third birthday. And things never stopped changing since then. Not even a year and a month later.

Oh God… In a couple of years she is going to be sitting on a leather couch, facing the traumatizing memories she and Zack created for him and apologizing for ruining his childhood.

She knows she will. She can see it happening.

A man bumps into her, and Aurora stumbles forward. She looks over her shoulder and apologizes, but he isn't around to listen anymore. Sighing, she lets go of her necklace and shifts her bag from one shoulder to the other, holding the strap to keep it firmly in place.

What was she even—Oh, toilets!

Right!

She shakes her head.

It takes her another minute until she sees some directions that will help her get there, and then she's walking again.

The toilets she's heading to are placed in a much quieter area, where even the lights are dim. Only a few people are there, seemingly waiting for time to pass — some occupying themselves with their phones on the chairs, but most of them laying on the floor, sleeping next to their luggage or using their backpacks as pillows. A baby cries somewhere distant in the terminal, and there's some coughing coming from a corner behind her, but besides that, everything's quiet.

She reaches the door at the exact moment a lady is walking out, and she almost bumps into her. They exchange polite smiles, and Aurora takes a step aside to make room for her to walk by. Once the lady is off her way, Aurora moves inside, then lets the door shut behind her, and everything goes silent.

The room is bright again, and someone must've just cleaned the place, because the smell of disinfectant is fresh and strong.

Aurora sighs. She heads to the last stall, walking past a row of other six on her way there.

After relieving herself, she stops by the sinks and washes her hands, taking the opportunity to look around her. And mostly to look at her.

The mirrors are big, almost covering the entire green wall between the sink and the ceiling, from side to side. To be fair, staring at her reflection doesn't sound like a good idea, but she promised she would try her best to go into the weekend with a positive mindset, and she can't do that while feeling so insecure about herself.

She lets the duffel bag slide down her arm and places it between her legs, then crouches to find her washcloth inside it. Holding the soft fabric between her fingers, she closes the zipper and stands up again.

Public toilets aren't the ideal places for skincare routines, but she's determined to do the best of whatever she can get. She places the washcloth on her shoulder and grabs the hair tie from her wrist, pulling her locks into a bun and getting them out of her way. Hunching down, she turns the tap on and puts her hands together, filling them with water before splashing it on her face. The coldness makes her wince, but it also makes her shoulders relax, and she pulls her lips into a timid smile.

She repeats the same process three times before grabbing the washcloth again and placing it against her skin. She doesn't rub it, but instead lets the fabric soak in the dampness. Finally putting her hands down, she looks at her reflection in the mirror, and bites the insides of her cheek. Her face looks more alive now that she's freshened up, but the rest of her body doesn't feel the same.

When she'd put that maxi dress on, an hour before leaving her house, she didn't think she would end up regretting the outfit. It's been probably a decade since the last time she's put it on, sure, but it used to be one of her favorites, and she always went for it when she didn't know what to wear. She used to consider it her safe choice.

And yet, wearing it now feels everything but safe.

It also doesn't feel nearly as comfortable as it used to. Maybe it's because of the straps… She never wears sleeveless outfits anymore, let alone something that's held by such a thin string of fabric. And the V neck… Oh God. How did she walk around London showing off her chest so comfortably? How did she go to class not bothering about people being able to see the curve of her breasts?

Even its color shade looks weird now, and she's not sure she enjoys how that rust red looks on her anymore. Her body hasn't seen the sun in a really long time, and her skin doesn't look very appealing — it's dry, and filled with stretch marks.

Honestly, the full length and loose fit are the only things she can still appreciate from the dress — although around her waist it doesn't feel as loose as it used to feel before.

Shit. Did she even pack one thing that's going to make her feel good about herself in Italy?

No, of course she didn't. Because Madison was the one who helped her pack for the weekend, so of course all of her choices included the tiniest, brightest and most provocative outfits that were hidden and forgotten inside of her closet since… Well, basically since Aurora stopped being single, to be honest.

"You need to loosen up," she'd said. Along with "you're divorced, not dead," and "your tits need to see the sun; they are gorgeous, they deserve it".

Alone inside the restroom, Aurora rolls her eyes at the memory of her best friend's words. Obviously, the whole chit-chat did nothing to convince her. Most of the old clothes Maddie had found hadn't seen the light of day in almost a decade, and Aurora doesn't have the same body she used to have back then to simply put them on again.

Not to mention she doesn't want Noah to ever see her wearing any of those outfits. It's not the image of a mother she wants him to remember. And she's been already messing up so many things for him, that she doesn't need to add "being an embarrassing mom" to the list — and she won't add an accusation of excessively exposing her son to his own mother's naked body in those future therapy sessions she already knows she'll be paying for.

Call it damage control, if you want to. After all, that's how she's facing it herself.

But then Maddie had put her hands on her shoulders, stared deeply into her eyes, and said: "it's going to be us. Just us. It's the perfect and safest place to have some fun and try out of your comfort zone. And you and I both know how much you need it right now." And Aurora couldn't fight her on that, so she said yes and agreed to put all of her jeans and t-shirts away for the weekend — which she can now confirm was a terrible, terrible decision.

She sighs. Again.

It's going to be a long weekend, isn't it?

Still examining herself, she turns around and looks over her shoulder, facing her back on the mirror. Fortunately, it doesn't show too much skin, although the flesh of her armpits could be more covered.

There was a time when Aurora felt breezy and comfortable on her own body. When she looked at herself and felt beautiful and free. Even sexy. Now, though, the simple thought makes her laugh. It sounds ridiculous, and she can't even make sense of it.

Biting her lip, she turns around one more time, and something catches her eye. She stops midway, narrowing her eyes to find out what it is, and then, she raises her eyebrows, and a spark of hope ignites inside her — she completely forgot about the adjustable straps!

Fully turning around, she squats down and puts the washcloth away, then stands up, already reaching both hands towards her back to tighten and shorten the strings. It isn't easy, and for a moment she even considers to hide inside of a stool and take the dress off to do it more comfortably, but eventually she succeeds, and the slight change instantly makes her chest feel more covered.

It's a small win, but Aurora is serious about making the best of whatever she can get that weekend, so she takes it, and smiles at her reflection.

The gold disk shines on her chest, and she takes it between her fingers, pulling it to her mouth and placing a soft kiss to it. She's really going to miss spending the weekend with Noah, but she knows she needs to take care of herself to be able to take care of him, and that it's also important for him to spend some time with his dad. Besides, it's only going to be three days — not even that. By Sunday afternoon she'll be back home with him, and everything will go back to normal.

Yes, see? That's it: two days.

Two relaxing and fun days with her friends, and then everything will go back to normal.

The line to get through security is huge.

Aurora stops behind a chatty and cheerful family of five, and sighs. She puts her frizzy hair down, then crosses her arms under her chest and lifts one hand to fidget aimlessly with her pendant.

Honestly? She can't wait to get to Italy. She can't wait to finally see that beautiful ocean in the Amalfi Coast. It's a trip she always dreamed about, but also one she didn't think would actually happen — and one she's sure she wouldn't be actually embarking on if she hadn't been forced to by her friends.

Aurora's mouth turns into a smile, and she looks at the ground, taking the pendant to cover her lips.

Despite everything that went wrong with her own marriage, she is happy for Lucy and Theo. She truly is. Just because things didn't work out for her, it doesn't mean they won't for them. Besides, their relationship is the only thing between all of them that hasn't changed since their graduation, so who knows? Maybe they'll have better luck than her and Zack. Maybe Lucy won't mess things up like she did, and maybe Theo won't—

"Auri?" a deep and low voice calls. Aurora furrows her brows and takes her hand down from her lips, putting her necklace back to its place. "Aurora?"

She turns on her feet, finding flamingos on a loose black shirt. Blinking a couple of times, she darts her eyes up, and meets the face of a friend she hasn't thought of in a really long time.

She widens her eyes, and places the palm of her hand on her cheek.

"Oh my God," she whispers. She raises her eyebrows, and her mouth curves into a smile at the same time it falls open. "Harry!"

She breathes out a laugh and takes a step forward, then stands on her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck.

The duffel bag on her shoulder follows the movement of her body, hitting Harry's stomach before she can stop it.

"Ouch," he groans into her ear.

Aurora pulls away. "Sorry, sorry—"

He chuckles, hunching down slightly and placing his hands in the middle of her back.

"'S okay, c'mere," he says, pulling her body closer and crossing his arms around her waist, embracing her into a tight hug.

Heat takes over her body, radiating through her chest and tingling from head to toe. It's so good to see him! She can't help the smile that lightens up her face, so she closes her eyes and rests her chin on his shoulder, circling his neck with the same affection he's putting into his hold.

"What are you doing here?!" she asks, still too excited to let him go.

Did he get even taller?

Or is he just stronger than he used to be?

"Probably the same thing as you?" Harry chuckles.

Shit. She's so stupid! Of course Harry would be at Lucy and Theo's party. Of course! After all, he was part of the group, too. Sure, maybe the last to join and the youngest of them all, and also the only one living across the world, but still… He was—he is part of the group. And Lucy and Theo would invite him, too. Of course they would. How didn't she think of him when thinking about the weekend?

"Don't wanna break the moment," Harry murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down her back, "but I think we gotta walk."

Aurora jumps away, holding her weight on his shoulder and twisting her neck to see the line ahead of her. She slides her fingers down, watching as the family of five gathers their things. They aren't rushing, though, and it doesn't seem like they'll be taking more than two steps forward.

Still smiling, she bites her bottom lip to keep her excitement down, then looks back at him.

Harry is standing with his arms loose on each side of his body, chin down while he stares down at his chest.

Following his sight, Aurora finds her own hand, and she widens her eyes. She's clutching at the second button, where both sides of his black shirt with pink flamingos meet. His hairy chest is on display, just like tiny bits of black ink tattooed on his skin and the long golden string of a necklace.

A rush runs through her fingers, and she withdraws her arm.

"Sorry," she whispers, pulling her hand to her own chest and squeezing it into a fist.

Harry clears his throat.

"'S okay," he murmurs. Without looking at her, he straightens his back and stretches an arm, pointing out to the empty space in front of them. "Shall we?"

Aurora moves quickly, shuffling on her feet and nodding in silence. She turns around, and the strap of her bag falls from her shoulder, dropping to the crook of her arm. She winces, and stumbles a little.

"Shit."

"Here," Harry says, and the weight on her elbow disappears. "Let me."

Frozen, she watches — and feels — the way he gently grabs her wrist and takes her bag out of her arm, pulling it to himself.

"Harry…" She drops her shoulders. "You don't have to."

"Just walk, c'mon. We're holding the line."

Aurora peeks over his shoulder, and certainly people don't seem friendly while watching them. She sighs, but turns around and walks.

It only takes them three steps to reach the family of five once again, though, and she's back to facing him.

Harry is rearranging the straps on his shoulders, holding two duffel bags now — his own, and hers.

"Okay," she says, stretching her arm to him, "now give me that."

He chuckles, and dodges her. "Nope."

"C'mon!" She rolls her eyes, but a smile dances on her lips. "I can carry my own bag, okay?"

Harry shrugs. "Never said you couldn't."

She sighs, and tilts her head. "Harry…"

"Will you stop being stubborn?"

Harry grins widely, contrasting his words, and his eyes brighten with amusement.

Aurora lifts her brows and parts her lips. A shaky chuckle coming out of her mouth. "I—Excuse me?"

Harry diverts his eyes somewhere behind her, and he tilts his chin up.

"C'mon, we gotta walk again."

Lifting her left eyebrow, Aurora crosses her arms, and stares silently at him.

Harry glances back at her, then presses his lips together, watching her for a moment as he wanders his eyes around her face. He purses his mouth, and then he cracks into soft, genuine laughter.

"Ha!" He throws his head back for a moment, chuckling lightly, then looks back at her. "I totally forgot you could do that."

Aurora's beaming, just like him, but her heart is racing, and her breath gets stuck in her throat. His smile is really contagious, framed by deep dimples on his cheeks and wrinkles all around his eyes. It's hard not to feel mesmerized by it.

"Uh…" She blinks a couple of times. "Do what, exactly?"

He walks, prompting her to walk along with him. Still smiling, he points a finger up, right to her face. "The thing… Y'know. With your eyebrow."

"Oh…" Aurora widens her eyes for a second. "Right."

She laughs and shakes her head, relaxing the muscles of her entire body, including her face.

She takes one hand to her forehead, and rubs the tip of her middle finger on her left eyebrow. Even though it's something she used to intentionally do pretty often when she was younger, usually to prove a point, it was also something that came up so naturally to her that she never paid too much attention to it. And a habit that, with time, she left behind. However, now that she found out Noah thinks it's super cool that his mom can lift only one eyebrow while most people can't, she's been consciously doing it more often. She never cared about being a cool mom, to be honest, but lately it seems the title started to mean something to her.

They stop walking, much closer to the metal detectors now, and Aurora stretches her arm again. She doesn't say a word, simply reaching for the strap of her bag on his shoulder.

"Auri..." Harry chuckles. He grabs her wrist between his fingers, then slides his touch to her hand, taking it to his mouth. He places a single kiss on her knuckles, and looks at her. "Please, 's nothing. I promise."

Aurora presses her lips together tightly, words getting stuck on her throat. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to keep the warmth of his lips lingering onto her cold skin.

"Okay." She nods. Her voice is softer, and she looks down to smile. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he says, taking her hand down and gently letting it go. "Did you bring a jacket?"

Raising her head, Aurora narrows her eyes, and meets his stare. "What?"

"Your hand's really cold." He shrugs. "Do you want my jacket?"

Aurora chuckles, and waves him off. "Oh no, I'm fine. My hands are always cold."

Harry pulls his brows together. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it again.

"Anyway…" She clears her throat. "How are you? We haven't talked in… I don't know… Five? Six years?"

Harry looks down and nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Around that, yeah."

"Hmm… Well, I had no idea you were back in the UK!"

"Uh, yeah." He shifts on his feet, and shrugs. "Came back a couple of weeks ago, actually. Haven't seen anyone yet."

Taking one hand out of his pockets, he lifts his arm and scratches his jaw. The movement draws Aurora's attention to the facial hair he seems to be growing, but also to his chipped yellow nail polish and the three rings he's carrying on his fingers. And when he rakes the same hand through his curls, pulling his hair away from his face, she notices the amount of new tattoos covering his slightly tanned skin.

His movements are subtle, almost timid, but Aurora is hypnotized. She hasn't seen him since… Damn, when was the last time she saw him? He was at her wedding, she remembers that, because she remembers the floral-printed suit he was wearing, and that his hair used to be longer than—

Aurora gasps, and Harry jolts.

"What?"

"Your hair!" Uncrossing her arms, she takes a step forward. She stands on her tiptoes and reaches for his head, touching the tips of his short curls while switching her voice to a soft murmur, "It's so… Short."

Harry shoves his hand back inside his pocket, but doesn't say anything, and Aurora entertains herself stroking the hair at the back of his neck, and then pulling some longer bits around his ears.

"Oh my God…" she murmurs again.

For as long as she's known Harry, she's known him with curls long enough to french braid, pull into buns and even attempt some ponytails — he hated the last ones, by the way. The girls used to tease him for having softer and shiner hair than any of them, and they all even went through a phase of trying to use the same hair products as him.

And yet, looking at him now, she's not sure if there's length enough for even a hair clip. Well, maybe a tiny one, to keep those curls that fall into his forehead out of the way… But still…

"The line," Harry murmurs.

Aurora pulls her arm to her chest, and lands her heels back on the floor.

"Right."

She turns around and takes a couple of steps forward, and an unsettling feeling grows in the pit of her stomach. It squeezes her lungs, and it makes her mouth go dry, so she presses her lips into a hard line and swallows. Then, she takes a deep breath in. And another one.

There's silence between them, until Harry clears his throat.

"I cut it as soon as I left," he explains, and Aurora glances at him over her shoulder. "I think this is the longest it's been since then." He shrugs. "I'll probably do something about it next week."

Aurora hums, and curls one side of her mouth up.

"You got a lot of new tattoos, as well."

Harry smiles, albeit sheepishly, and nods once. "Guess I did."

Facing away from him, Aurora can't help but smile again.

What a weird thing it is, to stand in front of Harry after so many years and find everything about him so familiar, yet completely different and strange at the same time. To have grown so distant from his friendship, and yet feel as close to him as she's ever felt before.

How could she forget about him?

How could she go through life without thinking about a friend? Without wondering about how they are, or what's going on with their lives?

Shit.

Tapping one foot on the floor, she grabs her necklace between her fingers.

She can't spiral into this right now. She hates coming face to face with the person she's become, and this weekend isn't for her to swell into guilt and drama. She's supposed to have fun. She's supposed to let things go. She's supposed to—

"Auri?"

Aurora stops the steady movement of her foot, and looks at him over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

Someone from security calls the next passenger, and she follows Harry's movements to walk forward, not even bothering to look where she's going.

"Nothing." Harry shakes his head, dismissing the subject, but Aurora can see the way his brain is working hard to figure something out. Noah tends to do the same a lot of the time — he'll have questions, and when he doesn't understand the answer, he'll purse his lips and shift his eyes around him, as if looking for a different explanation.

It appears Harry is going through the same process, because he keeps staring at her arms, and at her hands. And when he pinches at his bottom lip — something she recognizes as an old habit of his — it's enough for her to confirm her suspicion.

"Harry…" She chuckles and rolls her eyes, making sure to keep her voice soft as she calls him out. "Don't be silly. Just say what's on your mind, c'mon."

An amused and short laugh leaves his chest, and she smiles at the way his entire face lights up again.

"'S nothing… I was just… Because you… I mean, you don't seem to be taking a lot of stuff… Then I realized you… Well… I was wondering…"

There's a bit of silence, and it quickly becomes clear he won't complete any of his half-sentences.

Aurora half-smiles. "Yes?"

"Sorry." He shakes his head. "Is your husband coming, too?"

"Oh…" She lifts her brows, then puts them down again.

She nods once, understanding where he's coming from. It is a genuine question, a very reasonable doubt. After all, the last time they saw each other was at the wedding — her wedding — and not many people know about the many changes in her life since then. So she can't expect him to know, nor blame him for asking.

She doesn't want to say the words out loud, though. Is there a way to tell him without actually telling him?

"Hm, no," she tries. "It's just me. Zack's with Noah."

Harry hums. He gives her a lopsided smile, and nods.

Aurora frowns, and turns around to face the line.

That probably wasn't helpful. It didn't announce Zack isn't in her life anymore. It just seemed like he stayed home with Noah.

Which he did, yes, but he isn't at home with Noah. He is at his own place, a very fancy apartment he didn't struggle at all to buy after their divorce.

Ugh! Why is it so hard for her to announce to the world that Zack isn't her husband anymore? He hasn't been for a while now, and it's not like she wishes he would still be. Honestly, figuring out her relationship with Zack keeps being exhausting, no matter how much distance she puts between them.

Will that ever change? Will things ever get easier for her?

"How's he, by the way?" Harry's voice sounds behind her. "Noah, I mean. Just turned four, right?"

Aurora bites her lip, but it isn't enough to hold back the grin on her face.

People move forward, and they walk a couple of steps. There are only three passengers left in front of the family of five.

Aurora nods.

"Yes, he's four now. And he's the most adorable kid in the world! So, so, so sensitive, and so smart" —she walks forward again, but doesn't stop talking— "and now he's getting into this stage of trying to do things by himself, and it's just so endearing to watch! And he's really chatty, too, oh my. He loves telling stories, so he keeps—"

Aurora widens her eyes, and turns around.

Harry is beaming at her, and she covers her mouth with one hand.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles against her palm, then puts it back down. "Sorry, sorry. I'm so—I mean, I know, I'm one of those mums now."

"What?!" Harry laughs. "I was loving it! Was even hoping you'd show me a couple of pictures."

Her cheeks warm up, and she looks at her feet.

"Right."

Her hair falls to her face, and she takes both hands to put it behind her ears.

Please, don't blush.

Please just keep it together.

"Hey, I mean it." He places one hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. His hand is warm, but his rings are cold and her skin tingles with goosebumps. Shit. Now, her earlier prayer becomes a silent cry of help for him not to notice her reaction. "He sounds a lot like you, by the way."

Her lips twitch, and she bites her bottom lip to hold back the stupid smile that keeps looming on her face.

"Well… Would you really like to see some pictures? 'Cause I have plenty of them."

Peeking up at him, she finds him staring and smiling. Harry's hand is still on her shoulder, but it promptly circles her neck, grabbing her opposite side and pulling her forward.

Aurora holds her breath, crushing against Harry's chest as he squeezes her body and kisses the top of her head.

"God," he groans, his lips brushing her hair as they move, "you're so adorable. 'S so good to see you again."

Hii! If you're here, thank you so much for reading part one :) it truly means the world to me! I care a lot about this story and these characters, so I'd love to know your thoughts about it — and I hope you'll feel comfortable to share them with me!

Once again, thank you for reading! :)

Dani

PART TWO

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles writing

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thatsthat24 · 1 year

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Sanderstober 2023

Upon request, I’ve provided new art prompts for this year’s month of October!! As always, feel free to do all or some of these, pick and choose whichever stands out to you! If you missed a day’s prompt but still wanted to do art for it, absolutely do that and post it whenever you want, no worries whatsoever. It’s all completely laid back and just for fun! I’ve added to this list without consulting old ones, so if I used a repeat idea, it’s possible that I just was interested in seeing more of it again this year!! Hope you all enjoy! If you’re wanting me to check them out at all, you can use the tag, #Sanderstober2023 🎃

Oct. 1st: Give me a spooky or Halloween-y figure and how he looks on Sep. 30th (their off-time, go as comical as you’d like) and then how they look Oct. 1st (traditionally how they are known to look!).

Oct. 2nd: Give me a flower design inspired by a type of candy of your choice!

Oct. 3rd: In celebration of the awesomeness that is Fionna and Cake, I’d love to see you take a character, or characters from your fave series, and give them a multiverse makeover (what they’d look like in a different universe, under different circumstances)

Oct. 4th: Take any historic landmark, and give it an autumn or Halloween-y makeover

Oct. 5th: Since I’ve been on my D&D kick with Roleslaying with Roman, what would any Halloween- or spooky-themed character be in a D&D world? What would be their race? Their class? Their backstory??

Oct. 6th: Google a Random Color Generator and use it to give you three colors. Then use those three colors to create a new Halloween creature or character.

Oct. 7th: Along the lines of Spiderman Noir, take any character you want from some sort of fiction, and depict how they might look like in any other time period!

Oct. 8th: In the spirit of having fun with both Halloween AND Christmas, take a Halloween story/character and draw what they might appear as if they were actually a character talked or sung about in a Christmas story.

Oct. 9th: Take a group of characters from one of your favorite pieces of content and create tarot cards featuring them. Google tarot cards to get inspiration if you need!

Oct. 10th: Take a musical (one that I would suppose wouldn’t already be scary) and create a poster for it as if it were the title of a scary movie

Oct. 11th: Google a Disney character generator, pick out two characters, and create what a mash-up of those two characters would look like!

Oct.12th: Pumpkin spice latte obviously has its spotlight during the fall, but could you come up with another special coffee concoction for another season/holiday of the year?

Oct. 13th: Take a Fall/Halloween concept or character and use it as inspiration for a fashionable outfit

Oct. 14th: As a tribute to Barbenheimer this year, take any character from Barbie or Oppenheimer and depict how they’d appear in the other movie

Oct. 15th: Take the last text you received. Use all or part of it to base a whole movie off of it of any genre, and create a poster for it

Oct. 16th: Take one of the names of your current pet, old pet, or friend’s pet, and use that name as the inspiration for a superhero. What would that superhero look like?

Oct. 17th: Is there a phrase that one of your parents or friend says all the time? Take it and imagine it’s the name of a children’s book. What would that children’s book cover look like?

Oct. 18th: Take a Disney villain, and depict them as a Disney princess

Oct. 19th: Take a Disney Princess and depict them as a Disney villain!

Oct. 20th: Take any Greek god and imagine what their preferred activity might be on an average Fall day.

Oct. 21st: Take a board game (one that I would suppose wouldn’t be scary) and create a poster for it as if it were the title of a scary movie

Oct. 22nd: This is an annual favorite of mine - take take any character(s) from a piece of content of your choice and depict them like a Tim Burton character

Oct. 23rd: Take a famous brand logo (Toyota, Playstation, Campbell’s Soup, Facebook, literally any logo from anything) and design a Pokemon inspired by the logo and color palette! Bonus for naming it and giving it stats!

Oct. 24th: In the spirit AGAIN of having fun with both Halloween AND Christmas, now take a Christmas story/character and draw what they might appear as if they were actually a character talked or sung about in a Halloween story.

Oct. 25th: Another favorite of mine: take any character(s) from a piece of animated content you enjoy, and draw them in the style of another piece of animated content!

Oct. 26th: Go to the latest playlist you were listening to, put it on shuffle, and see what song it plays. Take the title of that song and use it as inspiration for a Halloween/Autumn themed drawing of your choice.

Oct. 27th: Take a favorite pair of characters from a piece of content you enjoy and depict what their matching Halloween costumes would be!

Oct. 28th: [Random event from this past year] … and Zombies!!

Oct. 29th: Every town’s got some local businesses with interesting names (Jerry’s Tire Barn Emporium, stuff like that). If you know of one in your local town, take that name, and imagine it to be the name of a Haunted House. Depict what that location may look like. I wanna learn about some funny local business names.

Oct. 30th: Take one item from your desk/workspace, anything you want. This item is now the inpiration of a brand NEW cryptid (like Sasquatch, Loch Ness, El Chupacabra, just some legendary creature we have yet to find hard evidence of). Depict what this cryptid would be!

Oct. 31st: And, of course, in typical fashion for the big day, give me any character(s) of your choice, from any piece of content, enjoying Halloween in whatever way seems appropriate to them!!

Hope you all have a WONDERFUL October! And hope you enjoy these different art ideas! Looking forward to anything it may bring about!

#Sanderstober2023 Prompts #Sanderstober2023

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tsumuus · 2 months

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Hanta Sero had always been the guy who blended into the background. He wasn't one of the top students in Class 1-A, didn't have a flashy quirk that caught everyone's attention, and wasn’t the smartest in the room. His quirk was useful, sure, but it didn’t shine like Todoroki’s flames or Bakugou’s explosions. He wasn’t the type of person who drew a crowd or had people fawning over him. No, he was the friend who cracked jokes and made others laugh, the guy you could count on but easily forget when he wasn’t around.

But there was one constant in his life- one person who made him feel like more than just another face in the crowd. And that person was you.

You knew him in a way that no one else did. You knew the way he sometimes felt like he was just a side character in everyone else's story. How he hated the way he was always overlooked, how sometimes, when everyone was celebrating their victories, he wondered if anyone even noticed his contributions. But you noticed. You always did.

You knew his favorite movies- the ones that made him laugh, even on his worst days, and the ones that made him cry when he thought no one was watching. You knew he had a weird obsession with pineapple on pizza, even though half the class would mock him for it. You knew his favorite car was an old beat-up Toyota his dad used to drive, the one he learned to drive in, the one that still sat in his parents' driveway, even though it hadn’t run in years. You knew that he secretly rooted for the underdog team in the soccer league because he always felt like the underdog himself.

There was no pretending with you. No need to hide the parts of himself that he thought were too small, too insignificant, too irrelevant. When he was with you, he didn’t have to be the guy with the quirk that wasn’t flashy enough, or the student who didn’t excel at everything. With you, he could just be Sero- just be himself. And that was enough.

Sometimes, he’d catch himself wondering how he got so lucky. How, out of all the people who could’ve seen him, truly seen him, it was you. But he never questioned it for too long, because the truth was, he didn’t want to imagine a life without you knowing him like this. A life where he didn’t have you to turn to when he felt like he was fading into the background.

And maybe he wasn’t the most popular guy, or the smartest, or the one with the best quirk. But when you smiled at him, when you looked at him with those eyes that knew every part of him- his faults, his secrets, his insecurities- Sero couldn’t help but think that he might just be the luckiest guy in the world.

masterlist

‘with you there’s no pretending, you know me’

#my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha bnha #mha sero #bnha sero #hanta sero x reader #hanta sero #sero x reader #sero hanta #sero x yn #sero x you

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badomensbaby · 5 months

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rules of the road. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: finally getting your driver's license after moving to the big city for college, you're a bit stunned by your dorky, charming driving instructor.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, praise kink, mommy kink, car sex, safe sane and consensual, explicit sexual content. (driving instructor! luke, racecar driver! luke)

words: 6,307

a/n: one beautiful evening, as i was driving home with a frosty from wendy's balanced in my lap, i saw a student driver vehicle and i was like! hm! what if... and then this kind of happened. i tried to keep a keen eye while editing but if there's an error, feel free to let me know! <3

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

You weren't a typically nervous person.

Growing up in a town where you practically had to just figure it out on your own, nothing really got under your skin. Not tractor maintenance nor harvest schedules, or that nasty little wasp's nest in the cattle barn in the spring.

But tests, those were a different story.

From college entrance exams to applying for your driver's license, those were the types of tests that made your heart race and your palms clam up. Because it was the unknown that bothered you so much. The unfamiliarity.

And, sprinkle in the fact that you'd left the family farm to pursue a college degree into the mix and every worry's been increased tenfold. As the baby of the family, first daughter behind a handful of rowdy, hard-working boys, being the first of your household to attend college was a serious milestone. You could only hope to make your parents and siblings proud.

But moving to the big city meant learning to drive. Well, legally. You've spent countless hours in your father's farm truck or your grandfather's tractor, you weren't necessarily inexperienced when it came to driving but you've never really been surrounded by other drivers. Just gravel roads and grassy two-tracks and your bothers dirt bikes.

The initial exam, a knowledge test about road signs and rules, wasn't too bad. They'd given you a practice test and a helpful guide booklet when you'd arrived at your appointment. It felt odd, being just barely twenty years old and taking a driver knowledge exam alongside kids barely pushing sixteen. You felt behind but it wasn't your fault.

Nerves didn't erupt in your stomach until the kind lady in the Secretary of State's office informed you that you'd be taking an on-road driver skills test. An instructor will watch you, quiz you, and grade you accordingly and if you fail, you can kiss your ability to drive legally goodbye until you pass.

Now that makes you nervous. Like there's ravenous butterflies swarming your stomach. You're already under a lot of pressure with fall classes starting soon and your part-time job, now you're worried about passing your driver's exam. The lady assured you there's nothing to fret over, that the instructor you've been assigned is well versed in the rules of the road and he's a total sweetheart.

Waiting in the parking lot wasn't the worst part. You were told he'd arrive shortly, a man named Mr. Hemmings, in one of the contracted company's instructing vehicles. Plastered with bright yellow stickers along the back, just shouting to everyone on the road that you're an inexperienced driver so take it easy.

Expecting some middle aged, married, grumpy man with nothing positive to say, the nerves weren't so bad as you basked in the moderate heat of the Michigan summer sun. Your phone pings a few times, a slew of good lucks and you've got this! from your family members. You don't even realize there's a stark white Toyota Camry pulling up to the curb until the scuff of shoes on the asphalt catches your attention.

"Y/N L/N?" A thick, low voice questions. A text message to your eldest brother sits unfinished beneath your thumbs, lips parting with shock. There's no bald patch or flat tire sticking out beneath his shirt, hell it barely looks like he's wearing a shirt at all because the white fabric is so snug and pulled taught over his abdomen and chest and arms that it's absolutely ludicrous. "Y/N?" he repeats.

"Yeah- yeah, that's me," You hesitantly stand, shoving your phone in the pocket of your jeans before brushing your now clammy hands along your thighs. His eyes flicker between the clipboard in his hand and you, shamelessly raking up and down your frame before clearing his throat.

"Great," His lips twist into a wide, toothy smile, shoulders seemingly relaxing at the confirmation. His stance laxes, nodding his head of bouncy, golden curls towards the vehicle that's idling behind him. "Why don't we go ahead and get started?"

You nod, swallowing the thick lump forming in your throat, hardly maintaining eye contact with the instructor as you climb into the driver's seat and watch him awkwardly fit himself into the seat beside you. "Okay," He blows out a breath. "I'm Mr. Hemmings but you can just call me Luke, it's easier and nobody likes saying a long name especially if you're in a panic."

You barely manage a short, clipped laugh. "Rad. Anyway, we're gonna be in here for the next hour or so. I'm mainly here to make sure you understand vehicle safety and that you're prepared to operate this beauty on your own," With a laugh, Mr. Hemmings taps the dashboard with his palm. "Well, not this beauty obviously, but you get my point. Oh! And I have break pedals over here just in case. I haven't used them yet this month so please don't put us in a situation where I might need to."

He's funny, you'll admit. In a dorky, charming kind of way. He hasn't stopped smiling the entire time and you're curious if he's just that way in general or if it's a front because he probably deals with some right idiots when it comes to being an instructor. "You're quiet."

"Sorry," You mumble, hands still folded in your lap. "I'm just a bit nervous."

"There's really no need," he assures you, turning in his seat with an excited smile. "If you've passed your vision and knowledge tests then this is like, a cakewalk. Have you driven before?"

"Yeah, back home," You tell him. "Mostly just old trucks, though. I don't think I've ever driven a proper car."

"Cool, car virgin. I like that," Luke turns his attention back to the clipboard, scribbling something that you're unable to make out because it's complete chicken scratch. "Well, why don't we get going so we can stay on track."

"Okay," You breathe out, clasping the seatbelt over your lap. Under your breath, you rattle off the first steps of safety before your hands ever touch the steering wheel. Seatbelt, check. Rearview mirror, check. Side mirrors, check. When everything seems as it should, you rest one hand on the wheel before shifting the vehicle into drive, peering out of the passenger's side mirror to ensure no cars are coming up behind you in the lot.

Luke stays silent, observing you, pen hovering over his checklist sheet. As you head towards the exit, you realize you have absolutely no clue where you're meant to go. "Uhh-"

"Take a left here," Luke tells you. Signaling, you check both ways for any oncoming traffic before exiting the parking lot, keeping an eye on the speed limit signs posted on the side of the road. "And at the next light, hang a right. We'll follow that through downtown and then get you on the highway for a bit."

Nodding, you try to keep yourself composed and not let the nerves get to you as you follow his instruction. You make sure to slow down appropriately as you cruise through the city's downtown area, briefly taking in the brick buildings and shops as you pass.

The vehicle's air is a little stiff, a little warm underneath the summer sun and you're considering asking Luke if he can turn the air on but he's too busy drumming his fingertips along his bare thigh to really pay you any mind. You'd always heard that driving instructors were very observant, overly cautious and very strict about everything but Luke's so laid back it's slowly beginning to relieve your nerves.

"Would you mind turning on the air?" Luke asks, eyes soft and kind when you glance over at him. You're just trekking along behind other vehicles, following signs for the highway that's still a few miles out. It's probably one of the things on his checklist, for you to tinker with something and hope it doesn't distract you enough to cause any accidents.

Glancing at the various knobs, luckily they're standard and simple, similar to your father's truck so pressing two buttons quickly has cool air flowing into the car. You feel a little more at ease, less of an iron grip on the steering wheel. "You're doing great, by the way." Luke chimes in.

"Thanks," You keep an eye on the Jeep that keeps randomly breaking in front of you, easing off of the accelerator when applicable. You weren't a newbie when it came to driving itself, just following the actual road laws and learning the flow of traffic. "I need to turn right up here?" You ask.

Luke hums with a nod. He's began muttering some tune under his breath along with his finger-drumming, as if he isn't remotely worried about you merging onto the highway. Picking up speed, you join alongside the few cars rumbling along the road. "We'll take this to the next town over, about thirty minutes, then we'll head back and do a few simple maneuvers and that's it."

You nod, fighting the urge to sigh. Who knew your road test would be so boring? There's no music, just the sound of your tires on the asphalt and Luke's low humming. "Why'd you decide to become an instructor? Isn't it- well, boring?"

A slow chuckle slips out of your instructor's mouth, elbow perched on the door, hand clasped against the side of his face. "It's not all boring, I swear. I just like helping people become confident drivers. You'd be surprised how many students I've had that are too terrified to even start the engine."

"You're pretty laid back, it's definitely making me less nervous," You laugh softly, keeping your eyes on the empty road. "Helps that you're not bad looking either."

Shit, you weren't meant to say that.

In your peripheral, you can see Luke squirm slightly in his seat, instantly worrying that you've made him uncomfortable. You're about to retract your statement and apologize but the grin that overtakes his pink lips stops you. "Thank you," he says honestly, his tone a little strained. "So are you. I mean, I wouldn't say not bad looking, you're pretty- like quite pretty- and okay, is it a little warm in here? Jeez."

You stifle a laugh at his nervous rambling. It's cute, kind of refreshing, too. But a weight settles in your stomach because no, you absolutely cannot think your driving instructor is cute. Doesn't that cross some kind of line? Break a rule? It has to. "So- are you uh.. getting your driver's license to.. drive to your boyfriend's house orr.."

Oh god, he's also pretty damn terrible at flirting. Normally, you'd find it cringey and a tad obnoxious but it's cute on him. Adorable, even, because he's definitely a handful of years older than you but he flusters so easily it makes your confidence soar.

There's nothing wrong with indulging in it, is there? It's not like you're gonna fuck him on the side of the highway or anything.

"No boyfriend," You keep a straight face, like you're intently focused on the billboards you pass by. "Or girlfriend." You tack on, just to see him flounder a little more.

"Oh- yeah, rad," Luke nods a few times. "That's- yeah, okay, cool."

God, he's so fucking cute. How'd you get so damn lucky to have him as an instructor?

Luke's tapping the window ledge aimlessly, almost looking uncomfortable but not with you, like something's gnawing at him. "Hey, can you pull off at this rest stop for a minute? I need to- uh- bathroom. Yeah."

"Sure." You signal off, slowing down as you near the small building, only a few cars scattered in the parking lot. Luke quickly unbuckles himself and slips out of the car, almost too fast for you to realize there's a tent in his shorts. Well, fuck.

You've never really been the hook-up type in the past, coming from such a small town there's slim pickings when you know everyone's faults. Only when your family would travel up to Mackinac Island or down to Kalamazoo to visit family would you end up fooling around with some local for an afternoon but that didn't happen very often.

Though the circumstances aren't ideal, there's obviously some kind of attraction on both sides. Probably just some silly short-term infatuation and who knows what's running through Luke's mind. But he's hot, there's no denying that, and guilt tugs at your chest because he's here to do a job and you're just being a massive distraction.

Luke returns about fifteen minutes later, a little flushed in the face but there's this look he's sporting that looks nothing short of pure bliss. You're not stupid, you can recognize a post-orgasm haze from a million miles away.

God, did he really get off in a public rest stop bathroom? What the hell was he so worked up over? You bite back any inappropriate questions lingering on your tongue as he buckles himself in and you merge back onto the highway.

Luke doesn't say a word until it's time to circle back. He's quiet, too quiet, thrumming his fingers against his knee in a rhythm you aren't able to recognize. You decide to go the exact speed limit, setting the cruise control and waiting for Luke to ask why you've done that but no such comment comes.

"You okay?" You finally ask. The two of you are trapped in here for at least another thirty minutes on the highway alone, then likely another twenty or thirty around town after that. The silence isn't deafening but it's making you a little uneasy.

"Me? Yeah- I'm great. Fantastic, actually. Why wouldn't I be? Nothing's wrong. Everything's peachy." The instructor rambles.

Something's definitely wrong. You're not a very confrontational person but you'd rather have whatever issue at hand out in the open than let it linger silently the remainder of your test. "Luke-"

As you're getting his attention, the car begins to splutter. Numerous lights illuminate the dashboard, a loud rumbling sound making the steering wheel shake beneath your hands. Immediately, Luke begins to press on the emergency instructor's breaks and with some guidance, he helps you pull off on the shoulder just as the engine dies.

Not believing the sight before you, you turn to Luke, who's equally as shocked and silent, both of your chests heaving. "What the hell?" You ask aloud.

"I have no clue," Luke says frantically. "The car's been running fine all day. There weren't any warning lights, were there?"

Truthfully, you don't remember. "I don't.. think so? All of them lit up before it crapped out."

"Shit," Luke curses lowly. "Let me see if I can figure out what's going on."

Luke slips out of the Camry, leaving his clipboard behind. You hear him yell, muffled, "Pop the hood!" And you do, after taking a second to find the button with your shaky fingers.

The longer Luke is beneath the hood the longer you worry. It's an early Thursday evening, on a fairly quiet highway, and the likelihood that some passerby is going to offer assistance is slim. Plus, tow trucks in this area only operate within a ten mile radius, so it's unlikely you'll find one for a reasonable price if the car is toast.

This is what you get for thinking he's cute, your brain tosses at you. You know it isn't true but it's kind of ironic, isn't it?

Luke slips back inside the car. "Well, one of the hoses broke," He sighs, digging through the pockets of his shorts in search of his cellphone. "So the car won't start even if we wanted it to. We'll have to call a tow truck."

"Of course this would happen during my driving exam," You sigh, eyes fluttering shut as a low, frustrated groan crawls up your throat. "Just my luck."

"I probably shouldn't include the fact that I have no service then, should I?"

Your eyes pry open. "What?" You ask, finding your phone and sure enough, no fucking signal. "Seriously? We're on the damn highway, not in the middle of the ocean!"

"Hey, we'll be fine," Luke rests his hand momentarily on your shoulder and you try to ignore the goosebumps rising on your skin. Sheepishly, he pulls it away. "I'll see if I can make an emergency call to highway patrol."

"Please do," You mumble weakly.

Your father would have a field day if he could see you. Barely a week into living away from them and you're stranded on the side of the highway with a hot driving instructor. What a joke.

With no luck, Luke groans, tossing his phone onto the dashboard. "My phone died," he says. "Can you call on yours?"

"Yeah," You dial using your phone's emergency function, only to be met with CALL FAILED in big letters. "How the hell can an emergency call fail?"

"Okay, well at least we've both probably eaten recently and I keep snacks in the trunk," You toss a glare towards the blonde, not finding his statement remotely relieving at all. "What? Teenagers get grumpy so I always have granola bars on hand."

"So we're stuck," You sigh softly. Luke nods, hands toying with one another. "Until I get signal or someone passing by takes pity on us."

"I'm sorry Y/N," Luke says quietly. "About- about all of this. I really had no idea, this car's never given me any problems."

"It's not your fault," You glance over at him, noticing his lower lip tucked between his teeth. "I'm gonna walk a bit and see if I can get signal, alright?"

"You shouldn't go alone," Luke says, a bit rushed. "I mean, not that you aren't capable or anything because I'm sure you are - female empowerment and all that I just- uh-"

"Just stay here," You say, a little clipped. You aren't upset with him, just the situation. "I'll be right back."

Luke swallows thickly, blue eyes wide. "Yes m'am."

You slip out of the car and begin walking along the shoulder, grass and gravel crunching beneath your feet, checking your cellphone every few seconds in hopes that a signal will appear. A big fat SOS stares back at you, practically mocking you.

After ten or so minutes, you aren't sure how far you've walked but you can't see the Camry anymore. You know it'll cool off soon as the sun begins to set and it'll be best if you're somewhere safe. Regretfully, you head back to the car to find Luke scribbling on his clipboard in the passenger seat.

"Nothing," You say, checking your phone once more, noticing it's been about thirty minutes since you've pulled off the road. "What're you drawing over there?"

"Just doodling," He says, showing you a mix of scribbles along the bottom of your driving checklist. "What else am I supposed to do? We're stuck for the time being."

"Yeah, you're right."

It's silent for a few minutes, aside from Luke's been inking the checklist. "We could.. play a game, maybe? Something to keep our minds off of.. y'know, the whole car breaking down thing."

"What kind of game?" You ask.

"Oh- uh, twenty questions?" Luke offers.

You snort. Twenty questions is for horny teenagers, not two almost-strangers stuck in a broken down vehicle on the side of the highway. "Guess that's a no."

"What about what are the odds?" You suggest. "I played it all the time with my soccer friends, it's pretty fun."

"Okay," Luke agrees. "You'll have to explain the rules to me, though."

You sit up a little straighter, a smile unknowingly tugging at your lips. Maybe there's an ulterior motive ping-ponging in the back of your mind. Maybe.

"It's really easy. One of us says something like 'what are the odds that you'll make an embarrassing noise', then pick a number in your head, and on the count of three we'll both say a number and if it's the same the other person has to do that thing. Make sense?"

"I think I've got it," Luke nods, turning in his seat with excited eyes. He looks fucking adorable. You shake your head, getting comfortable in the seat. "Okay, can I go first?"

"Go for it."

"Okay- uh, what are the odds that you'll.. you'll- tell me something about yourself?"

That's not quite it but a good start, Luke.

"One through fifteen." You say. "Three.. two... one.."

"Ten."

"Twelve."

"Ah, shit," Luke frowns. "I don't think I'm very good at this."

"You'll get the hang of it," You tap his knee with the back of your hand without a thought, watching his cheeks twinge pink. "I'll go. What are the odds you'll pass me?"

"One in.. ten," Luke says. "Three.. two.. one.."

"Six."

"Aha!" You grin, victoriously. "See, I'm a mindreader."

"As if I'd flunk you," Luke rolls his eyes. "You're a good driver, Y/N. You need to be a little more confident but there's no way I'd fail you."

You need to be a little more confident. Sure, Luke was talking about driving but that doesn't mean you can't apply that statement to anything else, right?

"Alright, my turn," Luke rolls his lips in thought. "What are the odds that.. you'd be my friend on Facebook?"

"Facebook?" You ask, a brow raised. "Nobody uses Facebook anymore, Luke."

"I do," Luke defends softly, shoulders drawing inward. "Just play along, Y/N."

"Okay, fine," You laugh softly. "Uhh, one in ten. Three.. two.. one.."

"Four."

"Eight."

"Damn, looks like we won't be Facebook friends," You tease, the flush still bright and red and pretty on Luke's cheeks. He's so easy to fluster. You almost regret what you're about to say. "What are the odds you'll admit the real reason we stopped at the rest area?"

Luke's face falls. "I.." He glances away from you, clearly caught off guard and there's a stinging in your chest. You should've just kept your mouth shut, he didn't deserve to be called out like that.

"I'm so sorry, that was too far, I-"

"It's..okay," Luke lets out a wavering breath. "I feel really bad about that," Your brows furrow. "Look I- I think you're really pretty and this is so, so unprofessional of me but I uh- you said girlfriend and my mind just- went off on it's own. I'm sorry."

"Oh," Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden. "You were thinking of me with- oh."

Luke looks away, clearly embarrassed, a blush blooming down his neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N. It was really inappropriate and I shouldn't have."

"It's okay," You assure him. Luke looks like a kicked puppy, unsure as his eyes slowly meet yours, not quite believing you. "Seriously, it's fine. I- yeah, I'm also into girls. I don't blame you for your.. thoughts, or whatever."

Luke sucks in a sharp breath, like you've said something sinfully explicit. "I- maybe we should end the game here before I say something really stupid."

He isn't covert about it, covering his growing hard-on, beginning to tent his shorts. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, trailing along the inside of your lower lip. Fuck, you have quite the opportunity here and it would be a shame if you let it go to waste. Consensually, of course.

"You're thinking about me with a girl again, aren't you?" You boldly accuse, your eyes narrowing in a teasing manner, watching Luke's gentle blue eyes widen and mouth fall open. "It's okay if you are."

He's so.. submissive. You've never really explored the whole dynamic of positions like that but making your instructor blush and squirm makes you feel.. hot.

"Maybe," Luke's voice is small, soft, and you're loving every second of it. "Y/N, I-"

"What're you thinking about, Luke?" You ask, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the center console, your tone low. "Me kissing another girl, maybe? Getting all hot and bothered and messy and wet?"

A whimper crawls up his throat. "I- fuck."

You trail a finger along his thigh, tracing the leg of his shorts. "Maybe you'd just watch, huh?" You provoke him, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah- I would.." His voice is weak, lips parting and soft little pants escaping them. He's so easy for it, you love it. The dominance rolling off of you in waves seems to come naturally and who are you to deny it? "Y/N.."

"What, Luke? What do you need?"

Need. Luke keens. "I.. can I.."

"You wanna touch yourself?" You ask.

"No.. you, please."

You hum. How can you say no, when he sounds so wrecked like that? "Think there's enough room for us in the back there?"

"Don't wanna.. move," Luke mumbles, eyes already glazed over. He's so far gone. "My lap?"

You won't toy with him anymore, not when he's offering to get you off. To touch you. God, his fingers are beautiful and long and you're dying to have them buried inside of you. "Yeah, 'kay." You puff out, watching Luke adjust himself properly and helping guide you to sit in his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.

It isn't ideal but it'll work. He works with shaky, excited hands to unfasten the button and zipper of your jean shorts before trailing his fingers along the waistline of your underwear. "Can I?" You nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip in anticipation.

Without hesitance, Luke dips his hand into the waistband, finding your damp heat with ease. His fingers curl around you, whimpering at the warmth before a finger slips inside of you, slick and velvety. "Oh- fuck."

"Luke," You moan out softly, clasping a hand on the instructor's shoulder. He carries a steady pace, sliding a second finger beside the first, brutally hard at the warmth coating his digits. "Fuck, feels so good."

"You're so wet," He mumbles, like he's surprised, peering up at your blissed out features. "Fuck, did I- did I do this to you?"

"Yes," Your hips shift greedily, making his fingers sink deeper into you. "You're just so.."

"So?" You can feel his breath against your collarbone through your shirt.

"So needy," You moan, rotating your hips, effectively riding Luke's fingers, like he's some kind of toy. "It's so hot, how hard you get so easily- I- fuck, there."

"Y/N," Luke pants against you, his free hand trailing up to your hip, holding tightly. "Wanna make you cum, please."

"Yeah?" You breathe out. "Gonna let me ride your fingers? Fuck myself until I cum?"

"Oh god," Luke trembles, his movements faltering but it doesn't matter, you're moving steadily and the more you shift the more his fingers hit that perfect spot. You can feel it in your toes, that you're close, but you need something else to get you there.

"Did you think about me?" You ask, a light sweat forming on your brow. "When you got off in the bathroom? Did you moan for me?"

"Yes," Luke admits in a whine. "Yes- fucking- came so hard, Y/N. Thought of you the whole time."

Just thinking about Luke, working his cock so quickly in his fist thinking about you is enough, warmth flooding your stomach as your orgasm rapidly approaches and you're releasing all over Luke's fingers. Like a fucking floodgate.

"Oh fuck," You hear him moan, fingers slowing as your hips come to a halt. "Fuck, Y/N."

Blissful and warm and flushed, Luke retracts his fingers from you, the digits glistening as he slips them into his mouth with needy, complacent hums. He looks more wrecked than you do.

"Can I- can I ride you?" You blurt.

Luke goes rigid. "What?"

"I wanna ride you," You reiterate. "I wanna fuck you, Luke. Can I?"

"You- yeah, fuck of course," Luke's eyes are blue and glassy and glazed and you aren't even sure how he's functioning right now. He hasn't even cum yet so- wait. "Just give me a minute.."

Curiously, you shift back a bit on his lap to see he's half-hard and there's an obvious damp patch on the front of his shorts. "Did you cum while you were touching me?"

Luke nods. "Sorry."

"Fuck that's so hot," You can't help it, fitting both hands beneath his jaw to tilt his head upward, capturing his lips easily with your own. He tastes like spearmint gum and flavored coffee, it's all you can think about when you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip. That was too easy, you can already feel his dick fattening against your thigh again. "Do you have a condom?"

"In my wallet," Luke pants against your mouth. "I wasn't like- expecting this, by the way."

"Neither was I," You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Let me get my shorts off."

Car sex seems so hot in theory until you're caught up in the moment and you're stuck trying to take off clothing where it's just not possible. You manage to slip your shorts off, leaving your damp underwear on before claiming Luke's lap once again. The condom sits in the crevice between his thigh and hip, fly open and dick straining against the seam of his boxers.

"Get yourself ready for me," You tell him softly, your fingertips trailing along your lower abdomen, along the inside of your shirt to cup your breasts beneath your bra. Luke's in a trance, nearly swallowing his own tongue before nodding and barely wiggling his shorts and boxers down his hips. He slips the condom on, abandoning the foil packet god knows where, before stroking himself a few times with a gentle hiss. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Luke squirms at that. "Thank you," he mutters. "Can I- are you ready?"

"So ready," He carefully aligns his hips with yours before slowly pressing inside, letting out tiny whimpers with every inch he sinks in. "Fuck."

"Y/N," Luke moans, eyes threatening to fall shut. His hands find your thighs, blunt nails digging into the soft skin there, hips threatening to rut upwards at the sheer warmth encasing his cock. It's immeasurable, how good you feel wrapped snugly around him.

"So good, Luke, you're doing so good," You praise gently, holding yourself upright with your hands on his broad shoulders. Once he's buried to the hilt, you slowly rock your hips in a circle, eliciting a short gasp from the blonde. "Such a good boy."

The simple phrase makes Luke choke on his own breath. "You're so warm," he mumbles, lips barely moving, chest rising and falling steadily. You rock your hips again. "Oh my god."

Luke isn't like the guys you've slept with before. He's sensitive and responsive and it's probably the hottest thing you've ever witnessed. It's like he's fighting the urge to give in. Slowly, you begin to bounce in his lap, testing the waters. Luke moans every time you sink down.

"Yeah?" You ask him after a particularly whiny moan falls from his mouth. "Feel good, Luke? Tell me. Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels so good," He babbles, a wheezy, whining mess every bounce you make. It's slick and wet and so fucking hot you know you'll cum again sometime soon. He's hitting all the right spots inside of you. It helps he's probably the biggest dick you've taken by far. "So good. Please don't stop, please."

"Not gonna stop," You mutter, nails sinking into the skin of his shoulders. "You're such a good boy, Luke. Taking it so well. Feel so good inside me."

Luke lets out a squeak when you clench around him. "Mommy-"

Your hips falter briefly but you can't stop, you refuse, because that word, though you've never been called that before it lights a flame inside of your stomach that makes you want more and more and more. "Yeah?" You abandon your grip on one of his shoulders to clasp his jaw, making Luke meet your eyes, his half lidded and cloudy and dark blue. "Gonna let mommy fuck you, Luke? Ride your cock until she cums?"

Luke bites down on his lower lip so hard he swears he can taste blood. His head is swirling, like yours, all fuzzy and fucked dumb. Your pace grows quicker, a bit more focused but frenzied, until Luke's panting to the point where he's babbling words that don't even make any sense. "Gonna- please- need-"

"What, Luke? What do you need?" You ask, ghosting your lips over his own. He whimpers against your mouth.

"Wanna cum, mommy. Can I?"

"Yeah baby," You press a hard kiss to his mouth, pushing your tongue past his lips and that's all he needs, gripping your thighs tightly until he's fully inside of you before releasing into the condom. Luke slumps slightly, clearly spent but you're far from finished. "Stay still, won't you?"

"What-" Luke mutters, flushed and confused when you begin to raise your hips and sink back down on him. "Oh fuck me."

"So close, Luke," He isn't softening in the slightest. It almost makes you smile, makes you proud because he's so turned on, just letting you use him like some kind of fuck toy. "Touch me?"

Luke nods, blissed out, attaching his thumb to your clit and rubbing furious, hard circles. Your thighs tremble as your orgasm builds up, toes curling inside of your shoes before finally letting go and releasing all over his length.

Shuddering through the warmth spreading up the base of your spine, your nails sink into the instructor's shoulders, panting against his mouth as he tips his head up to connect your lips in a soft kiss. Your skin feels tingly in the best way, electric, and your head swarming furiously.

Luke pulls away first. He's so flushed, from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck and you're positive that pretty pink blush has reached his naval, there's no doubt. He's definitely a full-body blusher. "Y/N.."

"Yeah?" You ask quietly, breathless, noticing the windows have fogged up a little bit from your activities.

"Can you.. sorry, it's just uh- the condom's a bit uncomfortable." The blonde grimaces apologetically, reddening further when you muffle out a short laugh and slowly climb off of him. Your underwear are soaked, from your own release, but you slide your shorts back on anyways as Luke ties off the condom and places it hesitantly on the floorboard.

Now that the two of you are dressed, less short on breath, you figure it might be best to address what the hell just happened. "Luke-"

"Y/N-"

"Sorry, go ahead," You mumble.

"I wasn't- planning that. Or, expecting it, I swear," Luke says rather quickly, eyes flitting away from you, a bit embarrassed. "Please don't think I make a habit of this. You're- you're the first."

You swallow harshly. "The first?"

A nervous, awkward laugh tumbles out of Luke's mouth. "No, no, that was a girlfriend in high school. I mean- uh- student."

"Oh," You puff out a relieved breath, resting your head back. You're still warm and relaxed from your orgasms. "Well in that case, I don't really sleep with driving instructors, so I guess it's a first for both of us."

"It's not.." Luke trails off, his voice low, like he isn't sure how to phrase what he's thinking. "It won't be the only time, will it?"

That comes as a bit of a surprise to you. Again, you weren't really the hook-up type but the guys you have hooked up with in the past were quick to forget it even happened and move on with their lives.

You're stunned into a short silence. Will that be the only time you hook up with Luke? Sure, he's funny, and insanely attractive, but aside from the few things you've shared during the drive he's still almost a complete stranger.

"I understand," Luke quietly says.

"No I- sorry, I was just- surprised," You say. "I'd like to see you again. Maybe not in a broken down car on the side of the highway."

Luke chuckles briefly. "Okay, cool," The tension seems to slip from his shoulders. "Sorry, I'm not really good at this. I don't really uh- date? Just, with work and everything it's hard to find the time."

"Being a driving instructor is that demanding?" You inquire, a lighthearted teasing lift to your voice. The highway is still dead silent and the sun is slowly beginning to set. Soon, you'll be cast in a hue of pinks and oranges and pretty purples.

"I race for a living," Luke says, catching your attention abruptly, your brows furrowing in confusion. "It's not something I really bring up in conversation or during uh- other things."

"You're not like, a Nascar driver or something, right?" You joke. Luke stays silent. "What the fuck?"

Way to go, Y/N. Fucking a driving instructor slash Nascar driver. Your parents would be so proud. Stupid girl.

"Like I said, I don't really tell people," Luke quickly defends, swallowing as an anxious look perturbs his features. "This doesn't uh- change anything right? About seeing me again?"

"No but if my dad finds out you're gonna be forced into every Sunday dinner until you're dead," You speak without thinking, still shocked about Luke's line of work. And here you were thinking he was just a dorky driving instructor for the state of Michigan. "Sorry, that was weird."

Luke laughs, shaking his head. He took your comment well, like too well, and you're starting to think maybe Luke isn't real at this point. He's too.. perfect. Handsome, dorky, a fucking racecar driver. "You're fine, I get it. Your dad's a big fan, then?"

"Huge," You sigh. "My brothers, too."

"You think they'd come to a race if I set aside some tickets?" Luke's teeth sink into his bottom lip, a hopeful look on his splotchy, pink face.

"I- I mean yeah," You stumble. "Luke, you really don't have to.."

"I want to," He reassures you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I really wanna see you again and if free tickets is the way I can then, I'd be dumb not to offer."

"For the record, I'd see you again regardless of the free tickets," You tell him, leaning to rest your elbows on the console. One of his eyebrows arch curiously, in a way that's so damn hot and Luke doesn't even realize it.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah," You confirm. "By the way-"

You're cut off by the chirping of a siren, glancing out of the rearview mirror to see a State Trooper has parked behind you, lights flashing.

Well fuck. This'll be fun.

#5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings imagine #5sos x reader #luke hemmings x reader #5sos smut #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x you

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fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow · 1 month

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what cars i believe the batfamily drives. my only qualifications are that i work in an auto parts retailer. this is purely based off vibes realistically they probably all drive teslas.

dick drives an early 2000s toyota corolla that he loves to death. he refuses to get a new car until this one dies. (which will be never because it’s a toyota)

jason in my head doesn’t have a car license but if he did drive a car it would be a toyota hilux or ford raptor ranger.

tim drives a newish hyundai i30 or a mazda2. idk why but in my head he drives a cute little hatchback.

cass definitely drives a slick black sedan. maybe a lexus or a mazda6.

steph drives a sedan honda civic because i’ve never met a civic owner that wasn’t girly pop or a upper class asian man.

duke either drives a kia rio OR a mitsubishi lancer OR an older model RAV4.

damian when he gets his first car it’s gonna be a mercedes or a bmw. probably a hatchback or sedan. i’m not sure of model tho.

bruce drives a either a audi, lexus or mercedes. maybe he has one of each. they’re probably all sedans and then he owns like one SUV.

#this is the extent of my car knowledge #enjoy this #or not #this is so niche 😭#i’m australian so some of these cars might not even be common in america #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #duke thomas #damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #bruce wayne

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impala-dreamer · 5 days

Text

Before The First Light

A Supernatural Story

~ With Michael pounding away in his head, ready to break free at any moment, Dean realizes he has no other choice but to do what Billie says and lock himself away forever. He hadn't planned on telling her, hadn't planned on a goodbye, but Y/N wouldn't let him leave without one more night...~

Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester

3,126 Words

Warnings: Angsty Angst. Kissy Kiss. Saddy Sad.

A/N: This was a commission and I def made myself cry a bit. Please give it a reblog if you read it <3

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

She wasn’t quite sure she’d heard properly.

Something about a box and being buried in the deepest part of the ocean. Something about Dean locking himself away for all eternity to ensure that Michael stayed captive. Something about choosing everlasting torment instead of fighting, instead of looking for an answer. Something about leaving them all alone, leaving her alone.

When Mary called, Y/N hadn’t been far. She had been ‘borrowing’ a text from the library at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, something old and illustrated in gold foil. A book that Castiel thought would help. As soon as she heard the worry in Mary’s voice, she pointed her little Toyota towards Hibbings and pushed the gas pedal to the floorboard.

She stood now, silently staring into the barn; her small frame illuminated by the glow of sunset behind her. Sam and Dean were arguing, standing on either side of a large metal coffin. It was crudely made and inlaid with hand-formed sigils. The bitter scent of fading gas and burning metal hung in the air. The struggle in both of their tones struck her first; their words only becoming clear after the shock settled.

He had found a way to lock Michael away forever.

Moreover, he’d found a way to kill himself without actually doing it.

Y/N held her breath and clutched the doorframe. She knew if she moved, she’d fall; if she spoke, she’d break down.

“I won’t be talked out of this! I won’t…”

Dean’s voice hit her like a truck. Her chest ached and her stomach churned. She exhaled and bit back a cry.

Amazingly, Sam was silent. She could only see his back, but his tiny movements made it clear that he was unhappy but stuck between a mountain and a hard place.

“I’m doing this. Now, you could either let me do it alone,” Dean said, dropping the frustration and pleading with his brother. “Or… you could help me.”

She wanted to scream. At Dean or Sam, she couldn’t work out, but something needed to be said. Something needed to be done to stop him, change his mind, and slap some sense back into him.

“...But I’m doin’ this.”

Still, Sam was silent.

Y/N watched from the gap in the wooden door, awed by the way Sam seemed to give in. He shook his head slightly, looked away, and then back. He took a breath, his shoulders rising and falling as the decision formed in his mind.

“Alright.” His whisper was pained and Dean closed his eyes, letting go of a heavy sigh.

Y/N snapped.

She yanked open the door and glared at the Winchester idiots. She was shaking; blood rushing in her ears like a jet engine. With a quivering lip, she let out a roar twice the size of her petite frame.

“Alright?!”

Sam was startled, all but jumping out of his skin.

“What the fuck do you mean, alright?”

Dean seemed to curl in on himself. He hadn’t expected to see her, hadn’t even wanted to tell her what he had planned. He looked at her, sadness spread across his handsome face. “Y/N-”

She trembled in the doorway, her hair wild and glowing with the golden dregs of dusk. Her faith darkened like the sky.

“What is wrong with you!”

Sam turned to face her with wet eyes and a hopeless expression. “Y/N, it’s not-”

She took a step inside, body propelled forward as if it meant to strike them both down. “Don’t you dare say it’s not what I think. I know exactly what the fuck this is, Sam!”

She looked at Dean. His eyes were dry but tired. She knew how exhausted he was, how hard the last year had been for him. The possession, the release, the back and forth, and now- Michael pounding away in his skull like a thousand battering rams. Her heart broke for him and yet, she couldn’t hold back. “How could you?”

Her voice came out like a sick whisper, full of spears, aiming at the very core of him.

He flinched. He shook his head gently, unsure of how to tell her all the things he needed to. He wasn’t prepared for this, wasn’t ready - or willing - to say goodbye to her.

“How?” she asked again, tears breaking free and spilling down her face. They glistened in the final rays of sunset while she waited for an answer.

Dean looked down at the box. He ran his fingertips over the top and closed his eyes. The first task was done and he was resolved to see it through to the next. He just had to keep himself from cracking, from splitting open as he looked at his brother and his love. He had to steel his heart, and stay the course.

His hand curled into a fist.

“I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t look up at her, couldn’t manage more than a meager, breathy reply.

She laughed. It wasn’t funny, but she laughed. “You’re sorry?” Her hand fell from the splintered wood. “You’re sorry. You’re gonna do this and you’re sorry. We have watch you try to kill yourself - again - and you’re sorry.”

Again, his lips parted but nothing came out. There was no defense he could give, no reasoning that would make her OK with any of it.

Y/N grit her teeth, dug her heels into the creaky wood floor. She waited, silently begging him to say something- anything.

He looked up at her through thick lashes, his chin dipped low and his hands stuck on the lid of the coffin.

Anger and fear stormed in her chest and she shook her head, giving up.

She met Dean’s eye and frowned. “Fuck you.”

He didn’t even react. He knew he deserved it.

She turned to leave and Sam spoke up, his voice crackling with his own frustration and pain.

“Y/N, wait-”

Her head snapped back and she glared over her shoulder at him. “Oh. And fuck you too, Sam. Goddamn coward.”

The driveway was made of loose gravel and the month had been dry. Dust billowed under her sneakers as she ran from the barn, from reality, from him. She wasn’t really leaving- she’d never be able to fully walk away from him- but she knew if she stayed in that barn, she’d end up burning it down.

She heard him following. The rocks crunched under his boots and his breath was heavy. Crying while running wasn’t good for him.

She stopped a few feet from his car.

That goddamned Impala and the man driving it had changed her entire life, and she wasn’t about to change it again. Not this way. Not by losing him to a fucking box.

Dean caught up but she moved again before he could reach for her. His hand fell in the space she created between them.

“Can we talk about this?” he asked, voice gritty and low.

Y/N dropped her head and kicked at the gravel. “I don’t know, Dean. Can we?”

He took a step closer. “I want to.”

Spinning to look at him, she crossed her arms over her chest, symbolically keeping him away.

He was silent for a moment, unable to begin or even decide where to.

Y/N clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Well?”

Dean dropped his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t start that crap with me.”

“What crap?”

She sighed. “That puppy-dog, teary-eyed, apology crap. I don’t want it. It’s bullshit.”

He tensed. “It’s not bullshit.”

“If you’re sorry then why go through with it?”

Dean looked away and caught his breath. “You overheard us in there. You know why.”

“No.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “I want to hear it from you. I want to hear that you think the only way to save everyone- like always- is to sacrifice yourself.”

Frustration curled up his spine and Dean grit his teeth. “You can’t- it’s not that fucking simple, and you know it.”

“Oh?” She stood back and clenched invisible pearls at her throat. The fight was brewing, hot and fast. “Please, Dean, tell me what I know.”

His lips hung open slightly as he thought better of speaking and making things worse.

“Allow me,” she snapped. “I know that you’re always right and I’m just some nerdy, useless book worm that you keep around to keep Sam occupied when you don’t wanna do any work.” Her voice grew loud, her words clipped and harsh. Her hands flailed in the air between them. “I know that you’re this old, experienced man and I’m some idiot little girl who doesn’t know shit about shit. I know I’m just a fucking bootycall that happens to occupy a room near yours.”

He flinched with every word. Slow, unrelenting tears streaked down his stubbled cheek. She didn’t want to see them, didn’t want to watch the salt water leak down and disappear into the dust and rock beneath their feet. She didn’t want to feel sorry for him; didn’t want to let go of her anger.

She couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t see past the redness in his eyes, the way his lips turned downward.

Her heart broke again and again with each breath and every tear that fell.

“I know that… you’re going to fucking kill yourself because you think you’re weak.” Her volume fell, her voice cracked. “You think you’re going to fail and the world will end.”

Dean closed his eyes tight.

“You think that everything that goes bad in this world is your fault.”

He pulled in a shaky breath.

“You feed on guilt, Dean. You drown in it.”

Green eyes opened, found hers in the dim light.

“You don’t have to.”

“I do.”

His confession was barely a whisper, floating towards her like a lost feather. He was sad but resolute, unyielding in his plans.

She took a step closer, bent her ear his way. “What?”

“Guilt,” he echoed. “I do have to live with it. Because it’s mine. I did this, and I’m the only one who can stop Michael from breaking free.”

Y/N shook her head. “Why? Why like this? Because some fucking reaper who has been Death for all of five minutes says you have to? Why would you trust her?”

Dean laughed bitterly and swatted at the wetness on his cheek. “Why would she lie?”

“Why wouldn’t she lie?”

He turned away but Y/N grabbed the open flap of his flannel.

“Hey! Don’t fucking do that. Don’t walk away. Not this time.”

Dean exhaled hard and came back to face her. He closed a hand around hers, keeping her fingers locked around his shirt, not letting her go.

“I have to do this. I have to. And if you can’t understand that, then-” He shrugged. “Then I don’t know what else to say.”

Y/N bit her lip and nodded as she looked down at the ground. Night had fallen while they quarreled and the only light around them was the yellow glow coming from the house. Sam had shut the light in the barn when he left, giving them time alone to do what needed to be done.

When she looked back up, she was crying. Heavy, hot tears lined her eyes, and Dean sucked in a quick breath at the sight.

“I can’t let you do this,” she whispered.

“You’re not letting me do it,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “I… I don’t care if you like it, or you agree with it. It has to happen. It will happen.”

Her lip trembled. She shook her head. “No…”

“Yes.” He went on, speaking slowly without a hint of indecision in his tone. “It will. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. I should have been better to you. To Sam. I… I should have been better at everything. I should have been stronger. But this is what it is.”

Y/N grasped for any new idea, anything she could say to keep him with her. “What if we find something, what if Rowena… or Cas-”

“They’ve looked.”

She thrashed against him, trying to rip her hand away. “What if we find something and we can’t get you out! You’ll be trapped and we can’t get you out!” She pelted his chest with her fist, desperate to make him listen. “What if Chuck comes back and-”

“Stop it, Y/N.”

“What if he comes back and can fix it again like with Amara! He could do that!”

He grabbed her other hand, halting her attack.

“Stop it,” he breathed, trying not to hurt her. “Y/N, listen to me.”

“You’re the one not listening! Dean!”

She tugged her arms back, but he held her tight, dragged her closer.

“Why would you do this?” she sobbed, twisting in his grasp. Her wrists burned but she struggled all the same. “Why! You can’t! You can’t leave us!”

Lost and exhausted, Dean dropped her hands and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. He locked his arms around her back, crushed her into his warmth, refusing to budge or let her loose.

“Shh…”

He kissed the top of her head.

“Shh… please…”

He rocked slowly side to side, soothing her as she splintered like a tree struck by lightning.

“Dean-”

“I know.” He kissed her again and loosened his grip. “I know.”

She pulled back and stared up at him, unable to speak, unable to think. The whole world was shattering around her and all she could see was him.

Tiny hands moved up his chest, clawing at the buttons, bunching up the black tee beneath.

“Dean…”

He felt the touch like the strike of a match and bent to kiss her lips.

She breathed into him and then pulled the air right back. She wanted the oxygen they needed to be the same; wanted a moment of connection before he was gone forever.

Dean needed it too. He came alive as his hands roamed her body. He dug his fingertips into soft flesh, pawed at her breasts, licked deep into her mouth.

Y/N backed up as he advanced and leaned on the cold metal of the Impala. Dean caught up quickly and tore at the thin shirt that covered her. She tugged it away; tossed it into the dirt.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered as he lifted her up, her lips shoved against his ear. “You can’t…”

Dean moaned as she spread her legs and let him slide between. She kissed every inch of his face, every freckle that she could see. He melted into her; fire and ice, anguish and lust fighting inside of him.

She licked at his lips; he snuck his hand into her jeans.

She nibbled at his ear; he moaned and rocked against her.

She clung to him like letting go would kill her.

He memorized her body so he could carry the touch with him until the end of time.

“We should go inside,” he croaked, breaking away enough to look down into her beautiful eyes. Strands of hair fell into her eyes and he swept it away. “It’s getting cold.”

Y/N dropped her hand down his body, her eyes following suit. “Don’t want to,” she confessed, her voice deeper and tinged with goodbye. “Not yet.”

Dean sighed, his soul heavy, his mind a mess. He cupped her face, holding her between his big, warm hands. “What am I gonna do with you?”

He’d asked it a thousand times before in jest, but this time it felt different. This time it hurt.

Hooking two fingers behind his belt, she tugged him forward an inch. There was hardly any space between them, but she needed what was there to shrink away.

“You can give me tonight,” she said sadly. “You can give me one last night before you go.”

He kissed away the tear that slid down her cheek.

“OK.”

The backdoor creaked open like it always did; the springs in the back squeaked when he lay down.

Y/N stood in the open air, stripping slowly while he watched from inside. Head propped up against the window and long legs stretched out over the bench seat, he stared at her silhouette. Haloed by the soft glow from the house, she looked like an angel- soft and beautiful and so perfectly made for him that his heart ached.

He reached for her and she slipped inside, climbing onto the worn leather and closing the door behind her. She sat on his thighs with her bottom lip snagged between her teeth and her hands on his stomach.

“You can still change your mind, ya know.”

Dean lay his hands on her legs and caressed the soft flesh of her inner thighs with his thumbs. He was unblinking, unyielding; certain.

“I won’t.”

Y/N nodded gently before falling down to kiss him again. If this was it, then she wanted to remember every second. No more talking, no more tears. Nothing but hungry lips and searching hearts, Dean and the rising moon.

It was cold in the car but they kept warm. They slept in each other’s arms, just a simple roll over from falling off the seat. Dean held her close and Y/N counted each beat of his heart. She realized sadly that one day her own heart would stop and his would still be going, kept alive for eternity by the Archangel trapped inside. She would be dead and Dean would live on and on forever, locked in torment until the universe collapsed and reality disintegrated, and maybe not even then would he be allowed to rest. Michael could keep him as long as he wanted, perpetually frozen in time even as time wore on.

She’d be dust and he’d be flesh and blood.

She’d be a memory and he’d be in his self-made hell.

He was sleeping so soundly, she didn’t want to move, but she had to go. There was a pain in her chest that expanded with each breath, a hole inside that grew with every second that she stared at him.

Carefully, she slid from his arms and out into the morning air. She gathered her clothes and grabbed the keys to her little Toyota.

She glanced back at the house, at the barn housing Dean’s final resting place. Sam would help him, she was sure. Mary would talk some sense into him. But she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t watch him go, couldn’t bear to see tail lights fade into the horizon.

The sky was changing: black to indigo and on to pink.

Y/N backed down the gravel driveway and was gone before the first light.

#spn fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #angst

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radracer · 8 months

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1999 Toyota Supra A80 JGTC

@mark_scenemedia

How does an old, awesome race car end up as the world’s fastest and most expensive flowerbed? Well, because nobody else wanted it. Which, considering it was relatively successful (finishing 14th overall in its final season, but also on the podium at Fuji Speedway) is a bit bonkers.

What you're looking at is the 1999 Toyota Supra #38 Cerumo FK/Massimo JGTC car that was driven by Yuji Tachikawa and Hironori Takeuchi. Not some half-arsed marketing buck, either, but the actual car that raced, complete with all its mechanical bits intact, apart from the transmission.

After the 1999 season there was a sponsorship change within the race team, so the main sponsor wanted to get rid of the car. But no one wanted it; it was too complex to run, too expensive. So the owners of the shop where it lives now managed to bag it for free and use it as an eye-catching momento outside the office.

It’s been sat in the same spot for the last 15 years. So long in fact, they can’t actually remember exactly how long it’s been there. But long enough for the paint to fade and crack, tyres to deflate and for the rust to set in and turn the motorsport parts a nice shade of sad, neglected brown.

As you can imagine, over the years they've been approached multiple times by people (from all around the world) wanting to buy it. Some have even offered heinous amounts of money. But they will never sell it. No matter how bad its increasingly decrepit condition gets, it's got tremendous sentimental value and drums up attention in a way a giant inflatable man or Freelander parked on some rockery simply can't. But will they ever restore it? Well, it's always been on their to-do list but they've never got round to.

#1999 Toyota Supra A80 JGTC #modified #stance #tuning #retro rides #tuner #slammed #street #imports #lowered #jdm #Jtcc #fitment #static #90s racing car #race cars #abandoned

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callmelola111 · 1 year

Text

guilty conscience ☆ part one

⭑ part 2 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5 →

synopsis: it’s your first year at college and you’re 1,500 miles away from home. you’d feel completely alone if it wasn't for your attractive roommate ellie. will this attraction complicate the already uncharted territory? or will she be the answer to all your problems?

|✯| pairing & wc: college!ellie williams x roommate!reader. wc: 1.4k

|✯| cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), fem reader, modern au!ellie, feelings of angst, sexual themes on like the verge of smut, some swearing

a/n: hey lovelies!!!! this my first time posting a fic so plz enjoy. feedback is appreciated as long as it is constructive. im new to all of this, and still learning. i plan on making this into a series so expect more coming soon. sorry if this chapter is very reader-centric. once reader gets to know ellie better, i’ll write more about her perspective. this will be a slow burn despite part 1 already having sexual themes (lol sorry, couldn't help it), but do expect eventual real smut <3 <3 (p.s: lets b mutuals, message me!!)

As you packed the last of your belongings into your parents' 2008 Toyota, excitement was the last thing you were feeling. When speaking about college, most people explained this coming of age experience with phrases like “change”, “hard work”, and “no sleep”. These pessimistic descriptions made the big move that much harder. Unlike your friends from high school, you were crossing multiple states to attend your dream school. You would’ve been stuck in your home state too if it wasn’t for your impressive art portfolio which earned you a full-ride. Art school is where you know you’re meant to be, but the anxiety of doing it alone lingered.

Of course you were happy to be escaping the grapples of your small Republican town, but you couldn’t help but wonder if 1,500+ miles would really be the solution to all your problems.

★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★

“God where is she??” you grunt to yourself. The brown swivel chair provided as dorm furniture was your only source of entertainment. You spun around in circles, checking your phone every few minutes. You were anticipating a text from Ellie Williams. Through the cracked screen your phone read 11:03pm and the notification wall was empty.

Ellie is supposed to be your roommate. The two of you had met through the university's online roommate matching system. Your interactions were limited to the few texts sent back and forth about move-in times and who’s bringing what. Ellie was supposed to show up 5 hours ago to move in her stuff but she never arrived. You consider messaging her to check-in but Ellie’s previous texts wreaked of un-interest so you thought it best to leave her alone. You knew nothing about the girl, or even what she looked like, but with her stand-offish demeanor and your overthinking, a friendship didn’t seem in the cards.

Another half-hour passes before the sound of keys rattling pulls you out of your trance. Realizing you’re about to be face-to-face with your new college roommate, you snap up from your slouched position and push your hair behind your ears in preparation.

The slender door lazily swings open and your gaze quickly shifts to the faux wood floors. There was a sense of hesitancy, like you weren’t ready to see your fate just yet. A pair of dirty, black converse covered in writing sulk into your line of sight, triggering you to look up. As you did, your eyes were met with the most jaw-droppingly beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. Peeking through her messy auburn locks were piercing jade green eyes and an angular nose scattered with freckles.

It was Ellie Williams, and she was the epitome of “cool girl". Your head spun with all kinds of thoughts as your physical body went idle. You sat before Ellie gawking until she broke the awkward silence that had gone unnoticed by you.

“Uh, hi… I’m sorry for coming in so late… some stuff came up. But uh, I’m Ellie Williams.” She held her right hand out towards you to shake it. It took you a second, but you snapped out of her spell and quickly shook her hand in return.

“Shit- Ellie, hey, it’s uh, nice to finally meet you.” You stumbled through your words as nerves overpowered your usual confidence. There was an obvious awkward tension between the two of you. A typical feeling when moving in with a complete stranger.

Silence loomed in the air as Ellie took a stationary tour around the small, 12 x 20 ft. dorm. She surveyed your side of the room, taking note of any items that could hint towards who you are as a person. Her eyes stopped on a band poster you had hung up just hours ago.

“You listen to Sleater-Kinney?” she inquired.

“Hell yeah, they’re one of my favorite bands. Honestly anything in the riot grrrl music scene is right up my alley. Do you listen?” you replied with more enthusiasm and less nerves than before.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Ellie answered nonchalantly. You took note of her answer realizing what it could mean. Sleater-Kinney was like the gayest band ever, and Ellie definitely knew that. Maybe she just likes them for their music, but it's possible she also found the lyrics laced with sapphic pining to be relatable. Selfishly, you were dying to know her sexual orientation. Ellie seemed like too much of a stranger to ask her outright and so the game of reading between the lines began. Little did you know, Ellie was wondering the exact same thing about you.

It was getting late and Ellie decided to save unpacking for the morning when she wasn’t so tired. You climbed onto your stiff dorm mattress and fluffed your pillows for sleep. Ellie did the same in her bed.

“Is it cool if I turn out the lights now?” you asked, still navigating the new social dynamic as roommates. Ellie replied with a gentle hum and you hit the switch turning the room pitch black. As you lay in bed all you can think of is Ellie and the future. You didn’t know what it was, but you knew she was special, and you yearned to understand her. With these thoughts in mind, your eyes slowly begin to droop and you slip into a deep slumber.

The next thing you know Ellie is sitting at the foot of your bed staring straight into your soul. Her beautiful green eyes felt especially intense as the rest of her face was shadowed from the dark room.

“Ellie- I-” you could barely get out 2 words as you sat up from bed flustered. You felt like prey and she was the hunter… and you liked it. Ellie slowly inched her way toward you, crawling on hands and knees. She didn’t have to say anything, you knew what she wanted.

Your plush thighs sat between her knees and her crotch hovered over yours, heat being exchanged. You wanted her so bad. You needed her. Ellie took your chin in her hand and pulled you in close. You exchanged breaths as her lips brushed up against yours. She couldn’t wait any longer and pressed her face into yours, capturing your lips which she so longingly desired for. You fell back onto your pillows and she followed intently.

Her body lay pressed against yours and she desperately shoved her wet tongue into your supple mouth. It was ravenous and you wanted more. You knew she did too as you began to feel the rotation of her hips digging into your pelvis. The heavy breaths coming from her swollen lips were in sync with the fervent grinding. You bucked your hips towards her in a frenzy. Ellie took her veiny hand and ran it along your waistband. As she began to slip it into your pants... you woke up to discover your own hands cupping the heat below and Ellie nowhere to be found.

“What the fuck.” is all you could say. You pulled your hand from your pants and stared at the slick spider-webbing between your fingers. God this was humiliating. You climbed out of bed to wash your hands and glanced at the clock. It was 7:15am and Ellie was already gone. That seemed kinda odd for a 19 year old college student. You wondered where she had disappeared to so early in the morning.

Soon, the over-thinker took over and you began to grapple with the possibility that you said something out loud during your naughty wet dream. What if Ellie heard you? God what if you moaned her name?? What would you even say if she brought it up? Before you could formulate a hypothetical response, Ellie walked right through the door.

“AHh-” you yelped, startled by her presence. Ellie backed into the doorway holding a coffee in each hand.

“God, sorry, you scared me.” you explained. Ellie shuffled back inside, twiddling her thumbs trying to decide what to say.

“Sorry, I just left to grab some coffee early this morning. I couldn’t sleep.” She continued, “I brought you one too. As an apology, for any trouble I might have caused by showing up at almost midnight to move in…”. Your cheeks flushed with color and you hoped she didn’t notice.

“Oh, thanks Ellie, that's nice. I promise there was no harm done.” you answered, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Seemingly enough, this news meant she was awake while you were, ya know... dreaming. Ellie definitely wouldn’t bring a pervert coffee though. Right? Either way, you knew one thing for sure, you've got to have her.

← masterlist ⭑ part 2 →

#ellie williams #wlw #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x fem reader #tlou 2 #the last of us #ellie smut #sapphic #ellie williams series #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #tlou 2 smut #the last of us 2 #ellie x you #ellie williams fan fiction

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sohnric · 1 year

Text

sweet like candy – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: summer au, strangers to something more ?? fluff, suggestive. very much stargazing by the neighbourgood and fantasize by the boyz capsuled into a fic. eric is a simp and a hopeless romantic because i said so. a girl romanticizes sharing a lollipop (its me im girl)

warnings: alcohol, maybe some minimal swearing, a heated make out session that hints onto a hookup (no smut mentioned!). the use of a cheesy nickname babydoll (dont @ me or i will deactivate), reader has hair long enough for a claw clip

word count: 6.9k

a/n: almost cried while trying to name this fic somebody send help. Also this doesn't feel like my best work its kinda rushed imo but 🤠 yolo

part of the @deoboyznet summer on you event! cant believe i made it on time

a summer tradition of renting out a cabin every year invented by a couple of friends takes a turn for eric when a new addition to the circle brings him to his knees - in other words, he never knew tequila could taste so sweet.

If anyone ever asked Eric Sohn if he believed in love at first sight, he would, without a doubt, say yes.

What was the proof he had? Well, absolutely nothing. All he ever knew about love at first sight was from romance movies he watched during lonely nights with his roommate Juyeon, never having the experience of the whole world stopping and zooming in on one particular person, taking his breath away– but to put it simply, Eric Sohn is a true romantic. Call him cheesy if you want– he wouldn’t like it, but he also wouldn’t disagree.

On one summer afternoon, though, his world tilts in its axis– the moment comes, and he is finally able to test out his theory.

You walk out of the passenger’s side of a red 2008 Toyota Auris, hair put up into a claw clip, jean shorts showing off your long legs and a pearl white button-up opened and lazily thrown over your outfit, and suddenly, Eric Sohn finds his knees buckling and his palms sweating with affection. He was aware that Juyeon’s girlfriend was bringing her best friend to tag along to their little summer retreat (more like a trip to a cabin in the middle of the woods), but he sure as hell didn’t expect the stranger to make him feel this type of way.

Sure, it might just be him being incredibly attracted to you. But with how fast his heart was beating when you smiled at everyone after introducing yourself to the group, he was sure he was slowly, but surely falling for you. And he was falling hard.

He feels like the world is moving in slow motion as he watches the group go and unload the car– you and your best friend Yeri were the last ones to arrive– and what wakes him up from the haze is when he watches you struggle to carry a cooler out of the trunk into the cabin, his legs dragging him closer to the vehicle and near to your body.

Now is his time to shine. “Let me help!” he hurries out, sneakers crunching on the gravel. His hands firmly grab onto the handle of the blue cooler, muscles flexing under the weight (making him wonder why you would willingly want to carry the thing and not ask him or any of the guys for help in the first place), and when your eyes look up at come in contact with his, he presses a smile to his lips. “I’m Eric, by the way.”

“Ah,” you gasp, a grateful expression breezing over your features, “thanks. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Eric hums, watching your every move. Your figure walks over to the front of the car, your head popping in close to the window to look inside, and when a satisfied look overtakes your features, Eric finds himself asking. “Is that everything?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “we can head inside, I think.”

The boy tries hard to keep his cool, he really does. But with how he’s trailing behind you like a lost puppy, attempting to find a topic that would engage him in a conversation with you, he feels like a boy that is just experiencing a crush for the first time in his life. Everything about you is enchanting– and sure, you could say he was just painfully attracted to you and this had nothing to do with love– but he was also convinced that if you asked him to jump off the Empire State Building, he would do it without giving it a second thought (which is kind of worrying, but again– it says a lot).

You open the door to the cabin for him, and he finds himself speechless at the action. Once your eyes meet again and you offer him another subtle smile, he finds himself gasping at the sentence that comes out of your mouth.

“Hey! We’re matching, kinda,” you note, pointing towards his outfit.

And you’re right– Eric didn’t even notice at first, too enchanted with your sheer existence– but you two were indeed wearing the same thing. Jean shorts, and a white button-up– in your case, thrown over a white tank top, in Eric’s, closed (although he did leave it a bit open at the top, revealing his tanned skin). Suddenly, the boy is glad he’s wearing a red cap to cover up his hair, since he foolishly thinks the hat provides him enough shade in the face to not reveal his burning cheeks as he utters out a weak response.

“It looks so much better on you, though.”

With that, he walks into the cabin– escaping the situation, not really paying a single thought to chivalry and letting you go through the door first– and as he reaches the crowd of people in the kitchen, he prays for all high sources to find him, get to him and wipe his brain clean of all thoughts, because

even though you are basically matching (and he does think you look so much better in the outfit than he does), all he can think about is just how much more he’d like your outfit if the white button-up enveloping your body was the one he’s wearing right now instead.

The next time Eric finds courage to talk to you is when it seems like you’re not finding it to talk to anyone else yourself– the big group is currently sitting around a fire, marshmallows and sausages slowly burning in the blazing flames– and while everyone around was either talking to each other or singing along to the songs Jacob was playing on the guitar, you were sitting alone in the middle of two commotions: Chanhee and Changmin arguing about something seemingly important, and Yeri and Juyeon making out right in front of everyone’s eyes.

And Eric was supposed to listen to Sunwoo talk about his latest heartbreak– how the man still gets no girls despite having such an objectively handsome face, Eric truly doesn’t know– but the topic of the conversation was too boring for him to engage with it. That, and he was also painfully aware of your every move– you didn’t even move much– and word– you weren’t talking to anybody– and that was slowly driving him insane.

You looked a little out of place. Eric supposes it was because you didn’t really know anyone here– except from your best friend and her awfully sappy boyfriend– but even though it was logical and a little expected for you to be a bit excluded in such a foreign circle, the man took it as his mission to make you feel as welcome and as included as he physically could.

Completely ignoring Sunwoo’s blabbering (like he was doing for the last few minutes anyway), Eric confidently (and a bit shakily– hands sweating and breath hitching in his throat) walks to the other side of the bonfire, from where he’s been watching your stone expression through the flames, and sits down in the small place between you and Changmin. Changmin wasn’t even facing you, too engrossed in the debate he was having with Chanhee, and so it was Eric’s job to wobble his bottom into the place, efficiently making the older boy move away with a light elbow jab sent into his lower back.

“Hi,” he clears his throat, “are you having fun?” he asks, but mentally curses at himself right as the question escapes his mouth– does she look like she's having fun? Of course she doesn't, you stupid idiot.

You smile at the question, though, nodding. “Yeah,” you hum, “having lots of fun listening to your friends argue and my friends making out next to my ear.”

“You seemed like it too, y’know,” Eric laughs, “they’re always like this, by the way. They’ll forget about the fight in the morning.”

“Oh, that could never be me,” you sigh, shaking your head at the sentiment.

“No?”

“No,” you shrug, “I get too petty. If we have a fight, I’m not speaking to you for at least two weeks.”

Eric finds himself laughing at your comment. “I’ll remember that for future reference.”

Straightening your back and looking at your companion– as if you were going to call him out on his subtle hint of there being any future meeting between the two of you– you suddenly gasp and swiftly turn towards the bonfire, an honest mourn escaping your lips.

“Oh fuck!” you curse under your breath as your hand reaches towards a stick that’s had its end in the flame, the device efficiently resting against a rock in a position where you didn’t have to pay any attention to the snack you were cooking– more like burning– for yourself. With a quick move for the stick, you pull the tip of it out of the scorching red of the bonfire and look at it in an examining way, as if the result would be different and the marshmallow would unburn itself if you stared at it long enough. “I completely forgot about this!”

Eric takes a glance at the burnt piece of fluff, letting out a laugh at the black marshmallow in front of your face. “That’s not how you make a good s’more,” he notes, poking fun at your annoyed face.

“Oh, no shit, Sherlock…” you mutter under your breath, but your face looks a bit sad to see the piece go to waste. “I don’t know why I even tried, I’m bad at this stuff.”

There comes his moment, Eric thinks. “Well, you’re lucky, ‘cause you just met an expert at making s’mores.”

“Does a thing like that even exist?” you chuckle, rolling your eyes at the male in disbelief.

“Of course it does! You’re looking at one now,” he grins, leaning over you to take a brand new marshmallow out of the bag to your right– sandwiched between your thigh and the couple in love– before he reaches over to your hand and takes the roasting stick out of your hand, slides the white fluffy cloud through the sharp tip and hovers it above the flame.

“The key is to hold it above the flame, and not in the flame,” Eric chuckles as he looks at you from the corner of his eye, watching your expression change.

“Oh, but I thought the key is to burn the thing,” you ironically gasp, shaking your head at his teasing. “Where did you even learn all of this?”

“I grew up in the States,” Eric hums, “they would deport me if I didn’t know how to make s’mores.”

The comment gets a giggle out of you– a sound Eric almost folds at and falls into the open fire (thankfully, he held his composure– he doesn’t think 3rd degree burns would suit his look) – and it takes everything in him to not scream like a teenage girl at the thought of making you laugh. Yes, that’s how down bad you managed to get the male.

“Do you have a special recipe?”

“Just the basic one,” he shrugs, turning the skewer in his hand to make the marshmallow equally glazed on each side, “I will make it extra good for you, though.”

“I thought a master always does their best?” you tease, watching as the boy crumbles under your gaze.

“Not always. I don’t like to put effort into things that aren’t worth it,” Eric hums as he takes the marshmallow out of the burning fire, examining it, and after deeming it worthy, taking the skewer and holding it up in between his knees. The male takes a graham cracker and tears it in half, before adding chocolate to one of the sides. After he’s done, he carefully places the golden fluff ball onto the cracker and closes it, offering the sweet sandwich to you with a subtle smile.

“For you,” he winks as he turns back towards the fire, putting another marshmallow onto the stick to make himself a s’more as well (and also mentally kicking himself at the sudden burst of courage). He hears you take a bite out of the snack, his knee bouncing up and down nervously as he awaits the verdict.

“Man,” you hum, “this is so good.”

“Told you,” he says, “if there’s something I’m confident in, it’s making s’mores.”

“That’s a very unuseful skill to have,” you note, but continue to eat. The comment has him chuckle and shrug.

“Well, I used it now, so I’d argue it’s actually very useful.”

A hum cuts out of your throat at this, finishing the s’more he made for you with a satisfied sigh. “Is this how you got girls back in the States?” you ask, making the male choke on his spit.

Eric was too young to get girls when he learned how to make the greatest s’mores. He went camping with his dad and his older sister and he burned a couple before he got it right. He was in middle school and before what the kids call a glow-up these days (back in the days, you just called it overcoming puberty), but still– he decides to test the waters with another lazy, half-assed flirty comment. “Only the pretty ones.”

He hears a chuckle out of you– a reaction he decides to not pay much attention to or overthink, for he doesn’t really remember what a good reaction to flirting is anymore– but then, you sigh and nod. “Well, I give your s’more a 5 star review, so I’d find that believable.”

The comment has Eric press his tongue into the inside of his cheek, battling a victorious smile that wants to oh so desperately appear on his lips. Turning his attention fully to you, he looks at you with confidence coating his insides– it only grows when he notices you staring at the side of his face, the flame of the fire twinkling in your eye and making your features sharper and twice as attractive to the poor boy.

His eyes scan you over for a few seconds before he notices a glimmer of something on the side of your lip– a chocolate stain that has him cautiously lean in and swipe a thumb over the sweetness, not even thinking twice before smoothing his finger over your skin.

“You had a little… something there,” he hums as he licks the chocolate off his thumb. Your eyes still trained on him force him to avert his gaze back to the fire– for it was unbearable, as if sparks were flying and burning his skin, everything about the interaction making goosebumps appear over his body; even though he felt hot in his cheeks and not at all cold– when the sight of his marshmallow in flames suddenly comes to him, startling him awake.

Hurriedly dragging out the burnt snack out of the fire, he hears you chuckle at him from the side– so much for not ruining the moment. (It’s okay, though. As long as you’re entertained.)

“I thought you were a master at s’mores,” you poke fun at him, “got distracted?”

Meeting eyes with you, Eric shrugs, a lazy grin settling to his lips. “I guess you could say that.”

The night progresses quickly– with Sunwoo getting so drunk he borrows Jacob’s guitar and clumsily strums the strings, freestyle rapping about the most random topics with flushed cheeks and eyes dramatically glued to the fire; Hyunjae wanting to have a competition of who can jump over the flames and Sangyeon having to stop his drunk friend with the force of his own body– and Eric finds his eyes lacking the candy he’s been occupying himself with the whole evening. You disappeared somewhere into the house a few minutes ago, and although he didn’t want to be clingy, he walked up to the cabin with a nervous pep in his step– that’s it, he just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Eric walks through the doorway, having his body immediately be met with the joined common room slash kitchen area. The cabin is kind of small (too small for the amount of people currently occupying it) and kind of old, but it’s a tradition to rent it every year during the summer, so no one ever questioned the decision or made the move to rent out a bigger one, no matter the growing friend group.

Your figure finally appears in the dimly lit kitchen area, your back turned to the doorway. Standing at the kitchen sink, it seems like you were doing the dishes– tons of plates used to carry grilled meat and sausages dumped carelessly into the sink, forgotten in a minute and leaving the last remains of food dry up on them and get hard to scrape off, a couple of glasses and mugs with their ears broken off from their age waiting with coffee stains at the bottom– and Eric immediately feels his heart fall down to his stomach, because why would one do the dishes in the middle of the night? Those usually get left there until the morning, when the least hungover person will take mercy on the rest and take care of them. Were you feeling excluded from the conversation? Did you feel bored?

“What are you doing here so alone?” he asks, making you turn your head over your shoulder and smile at him– a stone falling off his heart at the action– before you shrug at him.

“Washing the dishes,” you say, as if it wasn’t clear already.

“I see that,” Eric chuckles, “what I meant to say was, why are you washing the dishes in the first place?”

“Well, somebody’s gotta do it.”

Eric huffs– and he doesn’t even know why he’s so defensive about it. “That someone didn’t have to be you, y’know.”

He’s standing next to you now– your eyes meeting as you stare at the boy for a heartbeat– a smile spreading on your face at his furrowed brows. The action has him visibly relax, watching as you shrug and get back to the dish washing. “I just wanted some alone time for a bit,” you muse, “outside was getting too loud for a second, I’m not used to crowds.”

“Ah… once Sunwoo drinks, he can’t shut up, so I kinda get that it was starting to feel insufferable,” Eric notes, nodding at you in acknowledgement before the realization hits him. “Wait– you said you wanted to be alone, so I should probably-”

You halt him with a soft laugh– the one Eric finds his heart liking a little too much, with how it jumps up and down and makes all of him feel warm inside– a soapy hand reaching out in his direction. “It’s okay, you can stay,” you muse, “I enjoy your company.”

“O-okay,” Eric stutters– so much for the smooth lines he had prepared in his head before coming in here, all of them flying out of his head straight out of the window– and to not seem so silly, he gets his hands occupied and reaches for the clean dishes you started stacking on the counter next to the sink, deciding to dry them and put them away. The kitchen falls into a comfortable silence that only gets broken by an occasional scream landing through the walls from outside, and Eric can’t help but indulge himself in the domesticity of the act.

He can almost imagine you two washing the dishes like this in your shared apartment after you two cook dinner together and eat it in your cozy living room. That scenario sounds almost too good for the boy, having warmth slowly ooze into his cheeks, and that, he finds to be the hint that he should probably stop thinking about you in that way now or else he’ll get too distracted and break the glasses he is currently putting away. (God forbid– there were not enough of them for the entire friend group in the first place.)

“Are you having a good time, though?” Eric finds himself asking through his weird delirium.

You smile– oh god you smile, you should stop doing that if you want him to survive the night– and nod at the boy, calmness overtaking your aura and slipping into his cracks as well. “I am. It’s nice meeting new people and everyone’s very nice,” you say.

“That’s good to hear. How long have you and Yeri been friends?”

“A couple of years,” you note, “we met during high school. We always dreamt of moving away to college and living together at dorms or something, so it’s… it’s nice that it worked out for us,” you say, having Eric nod at your words with a sweet smile.

“That’s great to hear,” he muses, “I met Juyeon and Sunwoo in my freshman year of college, and the rest just… came along after a while.”

“Your friend group is pretty big,” you point out, having the boy shrug.

“I guess so,” Eric mumbles, never really thinking of it this way– in his eyes, this was normal. This was how he operated, how he lived. A lot of people around him, always close– one would think such a large friend group wouldn’t be as close with each other, but it’s quite the opposite in his case, he thinks. Maybe he was just blessed.

“How do you do that?” you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I dunno,” he snickers, “guess you could say I’m quite the social butterfly.”

“I can see that,” you laugh. Eric watches you, his hands now empty of any dish– he’s been drying them quicker than you manage to clean (and rightfully so, the food is stuck on there) – he starts noticing the details of your sheer presence. How you have a slight smile playing with your lips even when your eyes are glued to the sink, how your hair slightly slips out of the claw clip and frames your face, how close you’re standing– his eyes slip towards your hands, noticing the water running down your forearms and dangerously close to the sleeves of your shirt.

Acting on reflex, mostly, the boy reaches towards your sleeves and gently tugs them up, the contact of your skin that he initiates and should realistically be prepared for making the tips of his fingers tingle, the action having you stop in your movements and glance up at him through your eyelashes– a sight he wishes he could engrave into the back of his eyelids so he could stare at it forever and always.

“Thank you,” you hum, voice barely louder than a whisper when he retracts away from you, taking his previous stance against the kitchen counter.

Eric hangs his head low for a second, clearing his throat to ease his own tension. Now is your turn to start up the conversation, a casual question falling off your lips as you get back to washing the last remains of dishes. “Yeri said you come here often?”

The boy nods enthusiastically to your sentence. “We do. We started in freshman year, because Juyeon was going to this exchange program to Paris for a couple of months, so we threw him a goodbye party. Then he came back, so we threw a welcome back party here. And then we celebrated Younghoon hyung’s birthday here, and it kind of stuck, I guess? We go here at least once a year during summer.”

“That’s a nice tradition to have,” you sigh, turning the faucet off as you finish rinsing off the last dish– a big bowl that Sangyeon used to marinate the meat a few hours ago.

“It is,” Eric nods, smiling fondly at the sentiment. He reaches for the bowl and dries it with the now damp rag (there were a lot of dishes to dry, after all), and moves to put it back to its place under the sink. With your figure still in its previous spot, the boy puts away the towel onto the kitchen counter and gently grabs your waist with his free hand, moving you away a few inches to the left. He crouches and opens the cabinet under the sink and puts the bowl into the pyramid of other ones, straightening his back when he goes back into a standing position, catching you staring at him from above, watching his every move. Your body is leaning against the counter, having Eric mirror your stance only a few inches away from you before speaking up again.

“You’re welcome to join us when we come back next time.”

The time reads 3AM– or at least that’s what his circadian rhythm tells him, because he doesn't bother to check as he twists and turns in the bed, too hot and too alert to fall asleep– when Eric decides to walk down the steep stairs and try to get some fresh air. The cabin is hot inside, but he still takes his lost button-up that he had thrown over one of the kitchen chairs and puts it on before he makes his way outside, knowing that the forest will make his bones get cold with the crisp breeze.

He opens the door and moves to sit on the little patio– the silence of outside is overwhelming even after the cabin has quieted down and everyone has gone to sleep (each one on a different level of tipsy ranging from completely chill Sangyeon to doesn’t know where he is Sunwoo– with Eric somewhere in the middle of the spectrum). His legs drag a little tiredly as he scans his surroundings– god forbid there’s a bear out waiting for him– when the sight of a figure sitting on the floor takes him by surprise, their head already turned to him after hearing the sound of the door opening.

“What are you doing here?” he asks as he walks over to you, noticing your frame dressed in a tank top and sweatpants, hinting that you at least tried to get some sleep before coming out here, just like he has.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrug, confirming his suspicions.

“Same here,” the man sighs, “mind if I sit with you?”

“You’re welcome to join me,” you smile at him, patting the floor next to you and watching as Eric crouches down before taking a seat on the wood, ignoring the sunbeds and old rattan chairs situated all over the patio. (If you’re on the floor, he’s on the floor– it’s as simple as that.)

You’re holding a lollipop in between your fingers, your other hand occupied with a half-empty bottle of tequila that was previously passed around the circle at the bonfire. Eric raises his brows at the sight, having you shamefully avert your gaze from him.

“I thought it would be a waste to not finish this,” you say, snickering, “and I also… kind of hoped that it would put me to sleep…”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures?”

“I guess you could say that,” you laugh. Taking a sip from the bottle, you gulp the alcohol down before putting the lollipop inside of your mouth, sucking on it and licking your lips after. This is not the way you’re supposed to drink tequila, but Eric figures that gathering salt and a lime would be too much work anyways.

“Are you really using that lollipop as a chaser?” he giggles, making you hum.

“Yeah,” you stare at him, a grin overtaking your features, “this girl taught me to do that at a party last year. It’s not as good as literally anything else, but it gets the job done. Wanna try?” you ask, offering him the sweetness on the stick and the bottle.

The truth is, you were only a bit tipsy when the group slowly started to scatter into their beds. Eric didn’t drink as much either– only enough to make him laugh at everything that was said and make his staring at you twice as obvious as it was before– so he thinks he can take some more. As you said, it would be a shame if the bottle went to waste– and also, something about the idea of drinking with you alone on the patio was making his hopeless heart hammer against his chest in dangerous measures.

“Sure,” he agrees, taking the bottle first. The boy takes a sip, feeling the alcohol burn down his throat, and when he moves the dark brown glass away from his lips, he is met with the image of you leaning closer to him, offering him the lollipop. His hand instinctively grabs the plastic stick, thinking you’re letting go of it, when he’s met with the feeling of your flesh under his fingertips. You put the lollipop against his lips, making him open up on instinct and suck on the strawberry flavored candy, a million different sensations (all unrelated to the alcohol) swimming through his brain– you’re so close, you smell so good, he’s holding your hand, he’s sucking on the lollipop you previously had in between your lips and it’s driving him crazy– before you take the candy out from between his lips and put it back into your mouth, tongue swirling around the sweet ball.

The lollipop had an aftertaste of tequila on it, but it was enough to chase down the faint bitterness– Eric finds himself wanting to taste more of the sweet strawberry, but foolishly desiring to get the sensation off your lips instead. His eyes stay locked with yours throughout the whole exchange, sparks flying in between the two of you even though the bonfire has long gone out, his fingers lazily dropping from the candy.

“How was it?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper– goosebumps appearing all over Eric’s skin when he swears your eyes flicker to his lips for a split second.

“Good,” he admits. It’s silly how he feels so breathless at the action.

The sound of the wind playing with the leaves of the forest is the only thing accompanying you two. It’s as if you two were thinking of the same thing when you pull out the lollipop out of your mouth and offer it back to Eric, watching with utmost interest as the boy leans closer to capture it in between his lips, never breaking eye contact. The action feels a little too electrifying to him, a little too intimate, but he can't stop– can't even imagine wanting to.

Taking a sip of the tequila, but not chasing it down with the candy, you speak up again, lazy eyes practically glued to him. “This would be a perfect moment for a kiss…” you mumble, licking your bottom lip for a split second before biting down on it.

“Are you flirting with me?” Eric foolishly asks, tone of voice a bit weak, a little unsure, the candy still in his mouth, making his words come out a little jambled.

“Mhm,” you nod, grinning to yourself– Eric wonders how much of your behavior and how much of his raging heartbeat is due to the effect of alcohol in both of your veins.

His fingers pull at yours as he takes the candy out of his mouth, voice dropping as he answers you. “Then we probably shouldn’t waste the moment.”

Even though the intentions are clear, the boy can’t bring himself to make the first move– he’s completely enchanted with your presence, staring at you with tension in his shoulders and eyes trained onto your face, watching and examining it for any shift or change. Focused on the way you move, he thinks you must have realized you were going to have to be the one to take the first step– your lazily smile before you lean closer, impossibly close– making Eric’s eyes flutter shut with anticipation, your breath fanning his face making goosebumps appear all over his body.

When your lips finally touch his, he feels like he’s being kissed for the first time again, with the amount of fuzziness in his stomach and buzzing in his ears. He regains his composure quite quickly, though, as he positions his head in a way that makes you two even closer to each other, lips pressing firmer against yours now. His hand instinctively reaches out to hold your jaw, fingertips glazing the soft skin under them, your lips retracting only to go in for more.

Blindly placing the bottle onto the floor next to your bodies, you peck his lips and sigh into the kiss. “Damn, you’re good at this…”

“We’re only getting started,” he muses, making you chuckle.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” he nods, watching as you once again lean in and suck on his upper lip, making his eyes flutter close again. A weight appears over him as you shift in your place and move to straddle his lap, your hand moving to cup his cheek and tilt him upwards, everything about the kisses getting more hurried– less gentle, less hesitant– when you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth and grant your tongue entry into his mouth.

Sweetness mixes in between you, your hands moving around his neck, heavy breaths shared across the patio. Eric feels like he’s levitating, his body having an out of body experience, yet being awfully present– every little shift pushing him to overdrive, the slightest touch making his skin burn and heart drum against his ribcage.

You shift in his lap, making him huff under the pressure, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck. Teeth glazing the jointure of your shoulder, kitten licking the place and sucking in a bruise that will eventually be visible to everyone when you two wake up in the morning, Eric feels your hands tugging down the sleeves of his shirt, fingers feeling up his biceps. The action makes him chuckle into your neck, but the smile fades quickly as he feels your nails scratching gently at his flaming skin.

“Take this off,” you mutter, and Eric finds it endearing– helping you take him out of the button-up, sitting under you in just a white tank top and black basketball shorts.

“Why?”

“Your arms looked good in this,” you hiss before you hide your face into his neck, leaning down to give him your fair share of kisses and love bites, having the male teasingly joke as his hands run up under your tank top, painfully aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra anymore.

He moves his head to the side to give you more access before speaking out, tone of voice husky and coated in lust. “What if I get cold now?”

“Then I’m more than happy to move this to your room,” you purr into his ear.

Eric sighs, fingers playing with the hem of your top before he lets his palms drift towards your exposed stomach, roaming across naked skin. Goosebumps appear all over your body at the action, making the boy victoriously grin. “It looks like you’re the one that's cold, though, babydoll.”

Rolling your eyes at the male, you shut him up by latching yourself onto his lips before you speak against his mouth. “I’ll take that as an invitation, then?”

“Wake up Eric! The girls are leaving, you should at least go say goodbye!” Sangyeon roars into the boy's room, making the male turn over in the bed and huff out in frustration. He drags his arm up to shield his eyes from the sunlight hitting his face, the intention of just rolling over and sleeping more written very clearly in his face.

“Come on man, we’re leaving in an hour too, so you should go send them off and then pack your shit so we can load the cars,” Sangyeon says when he gets no reaction from the youngest. It’s to no use, apparently, and so as the oldest and most observant out of the group, Sangyeon decides to use physical force– he knows Eric would hate to have you go without saying goodbye. He’s not stupid. Or blind.

A strong hold on his calves drags Eric out of the bed and makes his half-naked body fall to the floor, a yelp coming out of his throat finally making Eric’s body fully alert and awake.

“Yo! What the fuck–”

“Put a shirt on and go say goodbye to Y/N before she goes, would you, sleeping beauty?” Sangyeon huffs before rolling his eyes at his younger friend, escaping the room and shutting the door close after himself with a loud thud (to add more effect to the scolding, Eric thinks).

The mention of your name has Eric quickly scrambling out of the bed. His heart hammers at the adrenaline rush, pulling a clean shirt out of his bag and dragging it over his head, the basketball shorts from yesterday’s night found on the floor being pulled over his lower frame in approximately 0.5 seconds. Eric takes the stairs 3 at a time– with how steep they are, he questions how exactly does he not trip and break his spine on his way down– and puts on a pair of slippers he finds at the door (that are not his, or his size, for the matter, making his heels comically stick out from the back).

Without checking his appearance in the mirror anywhere, he swings the door open and walks out of the cabin, watching as the group settles in a half-circle around your car, Yeri loading the trunk with her duffle bag before she closes it shut and smiles at her boyfriend Juyeon on the side. Eric joins the crowd, clearing his throat when his eyes fall onto your figure, the sight in front of him freezing him in his spot.

You’re standing there, in your jean shorts from the day before, an oversized white button-up enveloping your frame. A clueless stranger might not tell the difference, but he does– you put the shirt onto your bare skin and buttoned it just enough to reveal a bit of your cleavage– and it’s so similar to the outfit you had on yesterday, just with one difference.

You’re wearing Eric’s shirt. You’re wearing his shirt and your neck is scattered with red and purple-ish bruises, and no, Eric wasn’t that drunk and he remembers everything, but the events of last night suddenly play out right in front of his eyes like a movie, still nailing him to his spot and wiping out all of his vocabulary.

The boy feels hot in his cheeks as he watches you and your best friend pay your goodbyes to the rest of the boys, the men pulling you into side-hugs and fist bumps, shared ‘It was nice meeting you’s and ‘You should come by next time too’s resonating through the place. Soon enough, you reach the end of the make-shift half circle and lock your eyes with Eric, a playful smile softly appearing on your face.

“It was nice meeting you, Eric,” you hum, “I had fun,” you note, shooting him a knowing look.

“Me too,” he nods, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. He doesn’t know where the confidence of last night went, but he suddenly feels unarmed and lost. What does one do now?

The sight of you in his shirt makes him feel like his biggest (wet) dream has come true– call him cheesy, but it also wakes up a sense of déja vu in him from the day before– you with sunlight in your eyes, hair messed up in a claw clip. He feels like he just fell in love at first sight again. Is that even possible?

It’s good you have a sense in you that makes you take the initiative and be in charge when you see him faltering. A giggle cuts out of your throat as you lean in and hug the boy around his neck, your lips dangerously close to his ear as you speak in a hushed whisper, not wanting to be heard by the men around you.

“I stole your shirt from you, by the way. You should text me if you want it back, so we can meet up, or something,” you mouth, lips gently glazing the sensitive skin of Eric’s ear, and god does he feel like he's going to suffocate from the lack of oxygen this causes in his lungs.

“You look amazing in my clothes, so I won’t ask for it back,” Eric hums, “but I’ll text you just in case you ever wanna bless my eyes with the sight again.”

“Deal. I’ll make Juyeon text me your number,” you say before you pull away from him, shooting him a wink that almost has his knees buckling like a school boy in love for the first time.

You walk backwards and wave at the group, sending Eric one last look before you join the passenger’s side and close the car door behind you, the sound of Yeri starting the engine resonating through the quiet forest. The men wave at you until the Toyota disappears out of sight, only scattering inside when it does to gather their things and load up their cars as well.

Eric is woken up from his trance by a teasing whistle coming out of Sunwoo’s mouth and a father-like slap to his back from Sangyeon.

He wonders if he’s truly being so obvious. (He's unaware of the fact that you two had very visible matching love bites on your necks. It doesn’t take much effort to put two and two together– don't tell him that, though.)

Still, Eric shrugs and goes inside with a different kind of pep to his step.

When he licks his lips, he swears he can still taste the strawberries.

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