#but its a good thing to look over my own story from back to front

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

what are fun beatles facts you’ve put in your fics

Hi anon!! Sorry for forgetting you!!! TBH maybe they're not as fun or not as much facts as I may have made them seem but here are a few from ILTY:

I point out in chapter 2 that George and John bought matching Gibson guitars (in 1962, following them earning the contract with EMI iirc; I didn't specify the date in the fic though)

Paul talks about when he uses the Höfner vs when he uses the Rickenbacker bass, saying the Höfner is good for live sounds because it's lighter. He says something like that in Get Back, I believe!

In chapter 3 when Cyn and John are looking through a scrapbook there aren't any wedding photos because there really weren't any! No photographer was present :(

I also reference this real letter John wrote to Cyn in chapter 3

also point out in that chapter that while John basically immediately married Cyn upon learning he had gotten her pregnant, Paul stalled with Dot up until her miscarriage and then broke off their engagement.

in chapter 4 I describe this weird trailer thing, which John really had in his garden though I've now learned he actually only acquired it a year later in 1967 so

This isn't historical but the bit in chapter 4 where I describe how John plays I Feel Fine is how you actually play the song lol. I didn't detail it much cause it's not very interesting, but I watched a tutorial for it and everything. I also did some rudimentary sitar + Indian classical music research for the relevant part in chapter 10. It's not directly mentioned in the text but I did my best to make sure I wasn't saying something outright wrong about the instruments basic function.

In chapter 5 I point out that John has a Stu painting in his house, which he really did IIRC

The idea that John may have recorded himself reading from Timothy Leary's book Book of the Dead and played it back while dropping acid it isn't one I made up but I believe it's from Goldman so. Grain of salt fun fact. (mentioned in chapters 4, 6 and 8)

From chapter 7: "They bloody invented automatic double-trackin’ just so Johnny could be here less." ATD was indeed developed by engineers at EMI studios because John found double tracking his vocals extremely annoying lmao.

there's some description in chapter 7 of stuff the Beach Boys and Beatles stole from each other that's to my knowledge accurate. also the song playing on the radio was in the charts the week the chapter takes place during, which I pointed out in the author's notes (I generally have kept track of the dates in my story)

Paul beginning to write Here, There and Everywhere, specifically the intro, right after listening to Pet Sounds is based on him saying the intro is inspired by God Only Knows (he starts writing the intro just after playing GOK in the story). He recalls writing the song at John's house, an he completes it in chapter 8, also at Kenwood, while waiting for John (this time simply to come down stairs rather than wake up) — this is less a fun fact but more my fun adaptation of true events.

I double checked this like three times when I wrote the chapter, but IIRC it's totally accurate that the band recorded brass for the first time one day after the Pet Sounds listening party (chapter 8)

I reference the horrible experience the band really had in February 64 at the English embassy in Washington DC in chapter 8, though the specific anecdote Paul recalls from that evening is entirely made up by me.

this is pretty well-known, but Isn't It A Pity was likely a Revolver-reject, which is why it's briefly considered for the album in chapter 8, given the circumstances

This is my own conjecture but I 100% believe that Day Tripper is about Paul and I made that canon at the end of chapter 8 lol.

This isn't exactly a fact but the questions asked in the Munich press conference in chapter 9 are for the most part similar to real questions they were asked. Including the weird one about participating in the Munich Olympics lmaooooo

Again more of an adaptation than a straight-up fact but John and Paul did visit the Grosse Freiheit when they were in Hamburg for that tour!

Also the geography described in Hamburg should be right, I used a map lol.

Paul DID change the I'll Follow The Sun lyrics!!!! Go listen to the quarrymen bootleg it's one of my favourite things I've used, that it used to be "Don't leave me alone"

Also they did get to play around with some Japanese instruments while in Tokyo and they're some of the softest pics of the band :) I did simplify the events a bit though

George was very worried about being arrested for drug possession when the band got separated from their luggage in Manila.

George did ask Ravi Shankar to take him on as his student in summer 66 but I don't know when exactly.

I think that's a fair amount lol hope these lived up to your expectations :(

[sometimesanalice]

That’s My Girl

Summary: Bradley has been looking after you for longer than he can remember. You’ve always been his favorite person. So when some guy makes an unwelcomed move on you, that last thing he’s going to do is just sit back and watch it happen.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6.7K

Warning: language, male chauvinism, allusions to smut, some angst with a happy ending

(author's note: this is a fic is set in the 'Like I Can' universe, however it can be read on it's own!

In hindsight, Bradley should have known how rowdy the crowd at the Hard Deck was going to be tonight.

Sailors fresh off a several months long deployment were always a boisterous bunch. But Sailors fresh from a deployment during San Diego Fleet Week were a different thing entirely.

The bar is packed and humid, even with the doors and windows opened for the Pacific breeze. Penny’s old air conditioning unit might be on its last legs because Bradley’s shirt is sticking to the skin of his back. He’d nearly lost his mind when he’d seen that bead of sweat work its way down your neck and between your breasts when you’d pressed a kiss to his cheek and told him you were getting a refill and asked if he wanted anything.

Bradley really hoped you’d be up for leaving soon. He wouldn’t mind taking a dip in the pool at your apartment. Or better yet, getting you to join him for a cool shower.

It wasn’t the just the deep v of your tank top- or those sweet little embroidered flowers along the edges of it- that hand his fingers twitching to touch you. Although he liked those too.

It was that damn bow.

When Bradley had picked you up from your apartment earlier this evening and seen you wearing that, he’d given you a wolf whistle so loud it had caused your neighbor’s dog to start barking.

He’d taken advantage of your surprised laugh to back you up against your front door to get his mouth along the column of your neck. He’s always been a big picture kind of guy. And he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he was tugging open that bow between your breasts with his teeth.

You’d all but sighed his name as your fingers tangled in his hair.

Bradley.

And just as he’d reached your collarbone, you’d pulled him back up to your mouth like you were going to kiss him and murmured Later against his lips before slipping past him, like the menace that you are, leaving him to chase after the trail of your perfume.

You knew what you were doing, that was for damn sure. He’s always been a sucker for a bow. And for you.

Bradley had more than appreciated the extra sway you’d put in your hips just for him as you walked down your hallway towards the elevator. He’d grinned to himself as he set off after you, because at the end of the night, his girlfriend would be coming home with him.

Earlier in the evening, Coyote had been fast to claim the cluster of tables that some Butterbars had left to close out their tabs, most likely onto their way to the next stop of many for the night. It was lucky timing, because there’d been a nonstop steady stream of people making their way into the unofficial designated Naval watering hole for Fleet Week. There was a mix of civilians, Naval regulars who are stationed at North Island, and the visiting Sailors dressed in their uniforms on liberty. Bradley wasn’t sure how many more bodies could be packed in until some of the worn wooden shingles of the bar started popping off.

The lively and loud atmosphere of Fleet Week was something that Bradley had typically enjoyed in the past. He liked seeing people cut loose and laugh as they swapped stories with their friends and families. And he’d been happy to do his part to add to the good times, having been pulled to the piano twice already.

Over the years he’d built up a curated collection crowd-pleasers for occasions just like this. Part peacocking, part coping. While he’s never been the type to shy away from being the center of attention, he’d also found it was easier to breathe in the spotlight. Because with everyone’s eyes on him, it was impossible to feel alone.

So much has changed for him since getting permanently stationed in San Diego. And all for the better. That loneliness was a thing of the past, because now when he played, he was surrounded by all of his favorite people

But Bradley still ends his impromptu sets the same way he always has, with Jerry Lee Lewis. Only now he gets to sing it directly to the girl who’d given him the sheet music to the song in the first place.

The same one, he’s realized, who hasn’t returned back from getting her refill yet.

Bradley takes a quick glance around the corner of the bar they’d laid claim too. Bob, Fanboy, and Payback were lounging against the side of the pool table chatting up some of the visiting Sailors, since there wasn’t enough room to actually play a round without taking someone out with one of the cues. Coyote was leaning over the jukebox flipping through the albums with a pretty civilian who was out with her friends that he’d met and was clearly trying to impress. And Jake and Nat were seated with him at one of the tall round tables taking about the new Top Gun students, where your chair next to him was still empty.

Everyone was accounted for, except you.

There are so many people packed around the edges of the bar that it takes him a moment to find you. He thought maybe you’d been held up by Penny or Jimmy or some other familiar face, but he doesn’t recognize the man who standing way too close to you. But the firm press of your lips tells him everything he needs to know.

He sees the next moment playout as if it’s in slow motion. Watching as you attempt to take a step back, only for the guy to wrap his hand around your wrist to keep you from moving away. Bradley sees you glance down at that hand on you, and back up at the stranger. He knows that look in your eyes as you shake out of his grip. You aren’t just annoyed, you’re pissed.

Bradley slams his beer down and shoves his stool back.

He hears Jake curse behind him, “Oh, shit.”

Chair legs screech against the wooden floor as his friends hustle to follow after him, but he doesn’t wait for them to catch up.

There’s a trail of spilled cocktails and beers in his wake as he unapologetically weaves through the tightly crammed bodies that separate him from you. If anyone has an issue with him later, they can put a refill on his tab. But right now, his only goal is getting to you.

He doesn’t slow for a second. He just struts right up and steps in between you and the other man.

“Do we have an issue here?” he rasps, folding his arms over his chest.

Bradley takes the guy in with a hard glower. The name tape on his uniform reads Wilson. A LTJG, based on his shoulder boards, from one of the visiting ships. The man is big, but Bradley is bigger. And he outranks him. The guy might not know it yet, but it was just another thing he was planning on making crystal clear.

You put a hand on his tense shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

“It sure as shit doesn’t seem fine.” He doesn’t take his glare off of Wilson. “I think it’s time for you to go now.” He jerks his chin towards the front door.

“We’re just having a friendly conversation,” the other man drawls, sending him a wink. The implied innuendo makes Bradley’s jaw clench. There wasn’t anything “friendly” about the way he’d been using his size to keep you trapped at the bar.

The guy is trashed. There’s a blankness behind his eyes that Bradley doesn’t like the look of. He must have pre-gamed before going out because Penny and Jimmy weren’t ones to overserve.

“No, what you’re doing is paying your tab and leaving this bar.” It’s an order.

“Bradley.” You say his name like a warning. “I’m handling it.”

You pull on his shoulder, but he shrugs you off.

“No, kid, I’m handling it for you.” This asshole was Bradley’s problem to deal with now. He’d tapped in the moment he’d seen the man touch you.

“I see.” Wilson’s gaze bounces back and forth between the two of you, an oily grin appears on his face. “You’ve already got someone for tonight lined up. Damn, you didn’t waste any time did you, sweet thing?”

Anger flares hot and bright in his stomach.

“You better watch your mouth,” Bradley spits, pointing a threatening finger.

The bar around him blurs around the edges, but the man in front of him only gets sharper in focus.

You step around him and tug on his arm. From the corner of his eye, he can see you shaking your head at him. “Bradley, stop. I told you, I’ve got it.” Your voice is clipped, tight. “Let me take care of it.”

He knows you want for him to let it go. To back off. And he’s about to- for you- because you want him to. But then he sees the guy’s eyes drop down to the exposed skin of your chest- to that bow between your breasts- and smirks.

It’s a look so filthy that even Bradley feels dirty. He operates out of instinct. Stretching his arm in front of you, he purposefully pushes you back behind him to where he knows Seresin is standing close by, trusting that his friend will move you out of the way.

“A barrack bunny like you must know her way around. I don’t mind another man’s sloppy-”

For a moment, Bradley isn’t at the Hard Deck anymore. He’s standing in Jason Cameron’s kitchen, where the smell of weed and cheap alcohol and Axe hung heavy in the air.

Bradley’s fist flies on its own.

He barely registers the moment his knuckles connect with the other man’s jaw. He doesn’t see the man stumble backwards into the table behind him. He doesn’t hear the surprised gasps or the sound of glass breaking or the thud as the man hits the floor. There’s only the color red and the sound of his own ragged breathing.

When he shakes off the memory and returns back to his body, he’s almost surprised to see the broken bottles on the floor and not shards from a sliding glass door.

The next few minutes are a flurry of chaos as Wilson’s friends come and scoop him off the floor to make their exit. From the looks of irritation on their faces, it seems like this might be an all too frequent occurrence. He makes a mental note to try and look up the man’s supervising officer. And if he can’t find them on his own, he’ll ask Mav to help.

He can feel dozens of eyes on him, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Bradley takes a moment to apologize to Penny. He avoids looking directly in her eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment he’s sure is there. The adrenaline is still coursing and sparking through his body. He needs a moment to work off his anger and get his head back on straight before he comes to check on you. But he knows you’re in good hands with his friends.

Without being asked, he rights the table and stools on his way to the supply closet to grab a broom and dustpan. He takes his time meticulously picking up the bits of broken glass off the ground before he sweeps the rest of it up as he waits for his heartrate to settle back down.

When he’s done, he spots Nat and Jake sitting at the bar top and heads towards them. But for the second time tonight, you’re not where you should be.

“That was some left hook, Bradshaw,” Nat says, pinning him with a flat look over the top of her drink.

He ignores the comment. “Have either of you seen my girlfriend?”

Jake lifts his hand up at about your height. “About this tall? Great smile? Dating a man that’s clearly punching?” He chuckles to himself. “No pun intended.” Those dimples of his are more grating than usual.

Bradley’s hand flexes in irritation. His quick fuse is on its way to being lit again.

“Seresin,” he barks, low on patience, “Where’d she go?”

The other man lets out a low whistle and shares a look with Nat. “She left out the side patio door like ten minutes ago. Looked like she was about to spit nails too.”

“Goddammit,” he mumbles under his breath. He turns to Phoenix. “Did she really look that pissed?”

She shrugs. “I’m surprised she didn’t punch you, I probably would have.”

Bradley’s mouth drops open. “For what? For defending her?”

All he did tonight was stand up for you when someone crossed a line and tried to get physical with you. He wasn’t ashamed for doing it, he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“But did she want you to do that?” she asks, deliberately.

He doesn’t understand why Nat is giving him a hard time about this.

“That’s my girl and that guy wasn’t listening.”

Nat lifts a pointed eyebrow at him, “Sounds familiar.”

Bradley forces out a breath. “That was different and you know it.”

“All I’m saying is I think she was making herself pretty clear, but you chose not to hear her and did what you wanted anyways.” His teeth clench together as a rock lands hard in his stomach. “And from the sound of it, she wanted to handle it her own way.”

“Yeah, but…” You’re his, he wants to say, but holds back at the risk of sounding like the jealous boyfriend Nat thinks he’s being. Except he wasn’t being jealous, he just wanted to protect you.

“No buts, Rooster. You fucked up.”

Nat has always been a straightshooter. It was one of the things he’s always appreciated most about her, that and her keen ability to read people. He trusted her judgement. And if she feels this way, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with it, then the chances are very high that you do too.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, ‘shit’. Now go fix it.” She pats his shoulder once, and then gives him a shove to the side door they’d seen you leave from.

It’s cooler outside.

The ocean breeze feels good on his hot, sticky skin. Bradley feels like he can breathe a little easier without all those people milling around him.

You’re not hard to spot. To anyone else you’d a solidary figure facing the ocean, but he’d know the shape of you anywhere.

From what Seresin said, Bradley had figured you’d be half way down the beach. He’d been planning just to follow the trail of steam to find you. But you’re still as a statue with your arms wrapped around yourself as you stare out at the inky waves.

The noise from the bar is muffled inside the walls of the Hard Deck, but still slips out from the windows that are cracked open and follows him as he walks towards you. The sand shifts beneath his shoes with every step he takes. The tunes from Penny’s jukebox get carried away on the wind and are replaced with the gentle roar of the waves as he approaches you.

The days are getting longer and dusk is rolling in. The sun is hanging low in the sky. Not quite set, but well on its way. He’d love nothing more than to pull you into his lap in one of the Adirondack chairs to watch the last glimmering moments of golden hour with you in his arms. But knows that’s probably not in the cards for tonight.

The two of you have had fights before. Usually over stupid, inconsequential things. Arguing with you feels different now than when it did when you were just friends. Now that you’re his girlfriend, it feels like there’s more at stake. He knew he’d never forgive himself if he fumbled the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Bradley wants to skip over this part to where the two of you are back on the same page. He wants to skip to the part where he gets to see your dimples and hear you laugh.

He stops just a few feet behind you. He knows you know he’s there, in that uncanny way you’ve always been able to sense him. The minutes tick by as he stands there and waits for you to acknowledge him. Or to turn around and shoot him that withering glare of yours. He’d take anything other than your silence.

But you don’t.

You give him nothing, which is almost worse.

It feels like a standoff.

He folds first.

“Sweet girl,” Bradley says, with a resigned sigh.

He doesn’t miss the way your whole body tenses at the sound of his voice.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Rooster.”

The way you say his callsign lands like a punch in the gut.

You’re only standing a few feet away from him, but it feels like the two of you are miles apart.

“C’mon, kid, that asshole is gone now. Come back inside.”

“Seriously?” you laugh bitterly, still refusing to look at him. “You’re seriously going to ignore me right now too? I said I don’t want to talk right now.”

He feels his jaw tick. “Look, I’m sorry,” he starts, still not feeling sorry in the least, “But-”

You put a hand up and whirl on him, shaking your head in disbelief. The thunderous look on your face would have a lesser man taking a step back, instead Bradley steels his spine and digs his feet into the sand.  

“I really don’t want to hear it. I don’t think I’ve ever been this mad at you,” you fume. “Not even in high school when you got in that stupid fucking fight at that Homecoming party when I had to take you to the hospital.”

He presses his lips together firmly. There was a time and place for a conversation about that night, the one where he’d earned the scars on his face, but it wasn’t here and now. It was a secret he’d kept to himself for nearly two decades, the only other person who’d known the full story was his mom. But telling you about it now would only make things worse.

You continue, like a freight train without brakes, “And you’d been drunk then. Not that that excuses anything. But you’ve had, what? Two beers tonight?” When you lift your eyebrows at him expectantly, he nods curtly in confirmation. “So tell me what the hell just happened in there?”

He swears that sharp flash of your eyes could cut glass.  A lick of heat bursts behind his sternum. Hot and fierce.

“He wasn’t backing off,” Bradley grits out, trying to summon the patience he doesn’t have. “What was I supposed to do? Give him a pat on the back and let him keep hitting on my girlfriend?” You scoff and he feels his pulse kick up in his throat. “I have always had your back, and I will always have your back.”

Bradley doesn’t understand why you don’t seem to understand that he’d do anything for you. He’s been looking out for you since your bike handlebars had iridescent tassels streaming from them, and if he has his way he’ll be looking out for you until his number is up.

“But that’s the thing, Rooster! You didn’t have my back in there,” you argue, stepping forward so you’re toe to toe with him. Your use of his callsign again chafes against his ears like sandpaper. “All you did was manhandle me out of the way to get at him and throw fists. I mean, Mav and Hondo would have let it slide if they’d been there to see that. But what about Cyclone? Would he? Why would you put your career at risk like that? What were you even thinking?”

You’re looking at him like you don’t know him, and he hates it. Because you’re the person who knows him best.

He runs a hand through his hair in agitation. He’s been trying to tame his temper, that caged animal that paced within the confines of the ribs in his chest. But his anger and frustration has been feeding off of yours, meeting it measure for measure.

“I wasn’t. I wasn’t thinking,” Bradley explodes, flinging his arms out to the side. “I’m not going to stop and make a damn pros and cons list while I watch some asshole being disrespectful and getting physical with you. It’s not going to happen, kid.”

“And I told you that I had it handled!” you exclaim.

The sound of the waves gets lost in the way both of your voices are raising with each and every parry in the verbal fencing match you’ve found yourselves in. This has escalated quicker than he ever could have expected, and all he wants is to find himself back on the same page with you.

“How am I the bad guy in all of this right now?”

“Don’t you get it? I’m not mad about you wanting you to be there for me, I’m mad about how you went about it. You literally pushed me out of the way and passed off to Jake, like my voice and feelings in that moment didn’t matter to you. Like you didn’t care about what I wanted. You have never treated me like that before.”

Guilt makes his stomach churn.

“You and I both know that’s not true,” he replies. It’s an uncomfortable truth.

That dark period after his mom died and how he’d treated you still haunted him sometimes. When he’d try to set fire to all the bridges around him, including his friendship with you. He hadn’t been worth knowing back then, but you’d never given up on him. He remembers it like it was yesterday, he’s never forgotten it. On the nights he couldn’t sleep, it was one of the many things that played out behind his eyelids like a highlight reel of all his worst moments.

Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion. He sees the moment it clicks for you because the fire that had been blazing behind those eyes he knows so well transforms into something softer. Something sadder.

“Bradley, I’m not going to hold onto something from when you were eighteen and hurting and heartbroken.” Your voice catches with emotion. “But tonight? Tonight, you made me feel small. And you’re the very last person I thought who’d ever make me feel that way.”

He can’t even enjoy hearing you say his name again, because you look so disappointed in him. The two of you stand there staring at each other, searching each other’s eyes as the waves rolling in along the shore fill the silence.

The way your lower lip wobbles steals the fight right out of him. All that righteous indignation that had been whirling in his chest is gone quicker than it came over him at the sight of the tears welling up along your lower lash line.

He’d let you down back then. And he’d let you down tonight too. He feels like he’s broken a promise to you, one he’d made with himself a longtime ago. Bradley wants to be the man whose shoulders you could lean on, the one you trusted to bet there to support you. He never thought he’d be the guy who makes you cry.

Bradley says your name tenderly. Every single letter of it is precious to him because you’re the most important person in the world to him.

The single tear that escapes the corner of your eye and rolls down your face cracks his chest wide open.

He holds out his hand for you, but you half-heartedly bat it away.

“No, I’m still mad at you,” you say, feebly. It’s unconvincing at best.

“You can be mad at me, kid,” Bradley murmurs, “But just let me hold you.”

He needs to know that you’ll still let him. That you still want him.

Bradley reaches out for you again and this time you let him pull you into his chest. And when you thread your arms around his torso and hold him just as tight that knot in his stomach loosens. He rests his chin on your head and releases a sigh. With you in his arms, he feels like his feet are finally back on solid ground.

He knows he owes you an apology, a real one this time. He knows that he’s fucked up, he understands where he went wrong. But he can’t shake the feeling that he feels like he’s missing something, that there’s another reason playing into why you’re so upset.

Every one of your quiet sniffles twists the knife that’s lodged itself between his ribs just a bit more each time.

He doesn’t know how long the two of you stand there wrapped up in each other, as he runs his hand up and down your back. There’s more to discuss, but he doesn’t rush you. He’ll hold you for as long as you need him to.

When you pull away, only far enough to look up at him, he takes the opportunity to gently cup your face in his hands. His thumb skims along the line of your jaw, your eyes are still watery.

“Sweet girl, why are you crying? I know you. Why does it feel like there’s more to this than just me being an idiot?” he asks, quietly. It still feels so fragile between the two of you.

“Because I l-like you so much. And I know you meant well, but I hated what happened tonight.” You wipe angrily at the fresh tears that streak down your face, like you’re irritated at them for them falling without your permission.  “My ex used to pull that kind of bullshit all the time and I always hated the way it made me feel.”

His hands fall from your face.

Your confession surprises him. “Jack?” Bradley asks, his eyebrows pulling together. You nod. “I thought you said he was fine? That the break up was mutual because things got stale between the two of you.”

It’s times like this where he’s reminded of just how much distance there between the two of you over the last decade before you moved to San Diego. Of how much of you he’s missed out on. All the little moments that made up someone’s life. There was only so much an email, or a text, or a call could do.

You sigh, heavily. “I’m realizing now that there were a lot of things I put up with Jack because I didn’t want to rock the boat.”

Bradley’s fingers flex involuntarily where his hands are resting your hips. He doesn’t know what to make of that admission.

“You got to give me more than that to work with, kid. Help me to understand.”

You run you hand along his forearm soothingly, like you can sense his unease. He slides his thumbs through the loops of your jeans, fixing himself to you.

“Jack was really good about wanting to show everyone that he was a good boyfriend. And he was- for a while.” You pause, pressing your lips together. “But there were a few times where we’d go out and he’d make a scene, like what happened tonight. Except instead of someone being an actual asshole, it’d be someone who’d started up some polite small talk with me as we waited in line. And it always became a bigger thing than it needed to be. Then afterwards, he’d make it seem like he was defending my honor or something, even though he knew I didn’t like the kind of attention and all the looks that came with it afterwards. But Jack was always about Jack, and he liked the hero edit his friends would give him.”

You look away from him towards the ocean, the sunset paints you golden. Bradley knows you’re collecting your thoughts, so he waits. When you’re ready, you turn back towards him. There’s a different kind of hurt reflected in your eyes, one that tells him tonight has opened up old wounds for you.

“He’d say all the right things around other people, but when it was just the two of us alone, I never got that side of him. At the time I believed he was saying them because he meant them, but I can see now that he never really showed me that he meant them. I took his words at face value and settled for them.”

You give him a self-conscious shrug. Like you’re embarrassed. But your big heart was one of the things he loved most about you, and he hated the idea that someone had been careless with it before it made it into his safekeeping.

Bradley swallows hard. That tonight reminded you of the low points in your past relationship is hard for him to hear. And knowing why, makes it even worse.

“I think, more than anything,” you continue, your voice much quieter now, “I’m just mad that I let myself get lost in that for so long. Like I knew I needed more and that I wanted more, but I kept putting him ahead of myself when he wasn’t doing that for me.”

You thread your fingers between his and squeeze them lightly. He squeezes yours back.

“But you, Bradley, say the right things and mean them. You show me how important I am to you, with or without an audience. No one has ever made me feel as special as you do. Like, you don’t buy me red roses because you think you should-”

“Wait,” he doesn’t mean to cut you off, but his mind has snagged on a critical detail, “I thought your favorite flowers were tulips?”

A soft smile coasts over your pretty face. “They are.” He loves the warm way you’re looking at him right now, tender and fond. “And that’s what I’m talking about. You show me all the ways you know me because you care about me and want to make me happy. You don’t treat me like I’m an accessory in your life. I mean, I didn’t feel like I could even hang art on the walls of the apartment I paid half the rent for without Jack having an opinion on it. And here you are letting me bring over kitchen towels and plants for you, and we don’t even live together yet.”

Yet. Such a small word, but it means so much to know that you’re envisioning the same future with him that he sees with you.

“I like that you do that. I want you to do that. I appreciate the way you show me you’re thinking about me too.” Bradley runs his thumbs over the back of your hands. “Although, I’d rather be the one buying them,” he says, only partly teasing.

You made his house feel like a home. He hadn’t had that in so long. He wanted you to have things there in his condo that you also liked and made you happy because he wanted you to stay. He couldn’t wait for the day the two of you shared one address instead of two.

“Does that mean I should return the throw pillows I found for you?” He spots a wink of your dimples. “They’re soft, but firm enough that you won’t hurt your neck when you inevitably fall asleep on the couch even though you claim you’re just ‘resting your eyes’.” He never wants you to stop teasing him.

“No,” Bradley chuckles. “They sound perfect, but you’re going to let me Venmo you for them.”

“Ok, fine,” you agree. Almost reluctantly.

God, he loves you.

He leans in to kiss you. Once. Twice. Soft, sweet.

Bradley lets go of one of your hands to settle on your lower back and press you closer to him, until there’s no space between your two bodies. And brings the other one, with your fingers still tangled with his up against his chest. Before resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel like that tonight.”

“Thank you, I forgive you.” You set the hand not entwined with his on the side of his face, your thumb sweeps across his cheek. “But I need you to hear me when I say that I can hold my own just fine, Bradley. I know you want to have my back and look out for me, but please, just not like that. Even if your heart is in the right place, ok?”

He nods. “I hear you, sweet girl. It’s not going to happen again. I promise.” He turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm. And then lifts the one still in his up to his lips, and drops a kiss to the back it.

“Plus, you taught me how to throw a punch, remember? I’m pretty sure I broke a guy’s nose one time,” you grin.

“Atta girl,” he says with pride. It’s so much lighter between the two of you now. He takes a couple step back, letting go of you and giving you a not-so-subtle onceover. “Ok, hot shot, show me what you got.” Beckoning you over with both hands.

“I’m not going to punch you, Bradley.”

“C’mon, kid, show me how it’s done.”

You shake your head at him in amused disbelief. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No ma’am.” He taps his finger on his abs. “Let’s see it.”

You roll your eyes at him fondly. Then you hook your thumb over the top of your fist, just like he showed you all those years ago. And you ever so slowly, ever so gently press your perfectly aligned fist into his stomach. It could hardly even be considered a graze.

He doubles over with an overexaggerated oof and then tilts his head up at you and winks with a smile.

“You’re ridiculous.” The sound of your laugh fills his lungs.

It’s the same sound when he’d toss you into the pool when you were twelve. It’s the same sound when he’d spin you on the big tire swing when you were fourteen. It’s the same sound when he twirled you around the dance floor when you were nineteen at your mom’s second wedding.

There’s not just a glimmer of your dimples anymore, the full force of them hits him right in the chest.

“Speaking of punching,” Bradley says, straightening back up. “Hangman thinks I’m punching up.”

“Oh, does he? Interesting,” you hum. Your eyes shine in amusement.

He grins. “He’s not wrong. You’re way out of my league.”

You softly shake your head at him. “I’m just right for you. And you’re just right for me.”

He couldn’t agree more, but you don’t give him the chance too because you’re threading your arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to yours. With you in his arms and his lips on yours, he feels whole. You weren’t just right for him, you were perfect for him. And he’d never stop trying to be the perfectly right man for you.

No one’s ever had him, not like the way you do.

You’d always had a special place in his heart, but now the whole thing belonged to you. It was yours for the taking. He knew it would be in good hands with you, and he wasn’t going to stop proving to you that he was the one to be trusted with yours.

“Do you want me to take you home or do you want to go back inside?” He asks against your lips.

You kiss him again. “Let’s go back,” you say, wrapping your arm around his waist. “You owe me a dance, you know.”

He drops an arm over your shoulder. “I do?”

“You do.”

“Well then, lead the way, sweet girl.”

After he twirls you around on the crowded makeshift dancefloor of the Hard Deck, you let him take you home. Where he apologizes to you again, but this time on his knees with your thigh thrown over his shoulder. And twice more in your bed for good measure.

But not before he got his teeth on that little bow of yours.

He never stood a chance against it.

𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

Bradley is about to line up his next shot at the pool table when Jake saddles up and nudges his shoulder.

“Looks like your girl has an admirer.” Hangman points with his beer bottle, directing Bradley’s gaze to the bar where someone is chatting you up.

He recognizes him from the most recent batch of Top Gun students. To call him overconfident would be an understatement. The guy is clearly as full of himself on the ground as he is in the sky, based on his body language as he monologues to you, all puffed up chest and cocky smiles.

If the guy had any common sense, he’d see that you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. It’s written all over your face.

“So it seems,” Bradley agrees, rests a hip against the table.

He’d noticed the guy checking you out. But it was pretty ballsy of the aviator to be leaning into you the way that he is, considering the two of you had arrived together and that Bradley had been the one tasked with doing some demonstration trainings with them earlier in the week.

The man makes some big gestures with his hands, he’s clearly reached the part of his story that’s meant to impress you. Bradley chuckles to himself when he sees the less than subtle roll of your eyes.

“Are you going to go all Rocky Balboa on his ass?” Jake asks with a knowing smirk.

You must feel their eyes on you, because you glance over in their direction.

He knows you can handle yourself, but he’ll be there if you want him to be.

Bradley lifts his eyebrow in a silent question. You give him a slight shake of your head and he nods.

“Nah, she’s got it.”

He sees the moment the guy fucks up and oversteps, because your eyebrows shoot up. You’re his sweet girl, but he knows the other guy is in for it when look that promises the best kind of trouble settles over your face.

His favorite menace.

Bradley watches on as you lean over the counter and ring the bell with enthusiasm.

A cheer goes up throughout the bar. He brings his fingers up to his lips and lets out a loud whistle.

You look rightfully smug as Penny points out the wooden sigh strung up between the beer taps to the confused Top Gun student whose bank account will be hurting in the morning.

“Damn. I forgot the kid is a straight hustler,” Jake says, clearly impressed.

“She sure is,” Bradley grins, still looking at you, “It’s a good thing she likes you or you’d be screwed.” He pats Jake’s shoulder reassuringly, before pressing the cue into his hands.

You return a few minutes later, with a tray of frothy, freshly poured beers for everyone wearing an all-to-pleased grin that lights up the whole bar.

He waits until the beers are safely on the table before threading a finger through your beltloop and tugging him to you.

“That’s my girl.”

Bradley tilts your face up for a kiss. It’s not his best work, you’re making it difficult for him since you’re too busy smiling.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Disclaimer: my writing playlist included Cassandra, The Prophecy, and Castles Crumbling. So legally I cannot be held accountable for any angst hangovers.

Thank you for reading!

If you want to see what happens next for these two, click here!

You can read more of my stories here!

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[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

The drive's short one. 

Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.

What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?

(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)  

"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.  

"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.

"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"

"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home." 

"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board." 

Of course they were.

"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon. 

"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe." 

"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.

Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors. 

"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.

"What?" 

"We..." She falters in front of her parents. 

"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.

"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.  

"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control. 

If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it. 

"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze. 

"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it." 

He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?" 

Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold." 

"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"

"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them. 

Its worth it to see her shoulders relax. 

"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…" 

Steve pauses. 

Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."  

"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.

Hook, line, sinker.

Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to." 

"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen. 

Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.

The same one where Nancy very much isn't. 

That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.

xXx

Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy. 

She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--

But she also can't tell him she loves him.

So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.

 Play’s more basketball.

It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.

That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…

He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.

 Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy. 

He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.

That he should let her. 

Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to. 

She wants to be let go.

So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.

(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.

Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.

It's--something.

But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.

It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )

xXx

"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box. 

"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise. 

One, giant, never ending bruise. 

"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth. 

If you turn it sideways and squint anyway. 

"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face. 

The same one he's already getting looks for. 

"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."

The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head. 

"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?" 

Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.

The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit. 

(He had not gone to a hospital. 

None of them had.)  

"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off  as just….goofy.

Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.

 He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with. 

Just older, and with slightly better hair. 

"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously. 

He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?" 

"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves. 

The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him." 

"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.

(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.) 

It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle." 

"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"

"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend." 

See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game. 

They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer. 

(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.) 

"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner. 

"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low. 

Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose." 

Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.)  to say:

 "Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked." 

Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts." 

Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.

The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors. 

"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open. 

"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard. 

"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is. 

It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird. 

The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson. 

xXx

College rejection letters come in, one after the another.

Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.

Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.

Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly? 

It's not that bad. 

Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.  

He figures he has time to win her over. 

All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.

Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve. 

It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits. 

‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’ 

Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.

Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting. 

(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons. 

When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy. 

Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship. 

That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.

That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.

Better.

Not in a way Steve wants to put into words. 

Not in a way he wants to confront at all.) 

His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other. 

Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video. 

Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst. 

Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.

The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.

Chrissy Cunningham, was not. 

"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf. 

She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way. 

“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.” 

"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.

She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly." 

"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.

She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it. 

"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies." 

Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright. 

This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly. 

Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room. 

"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back. 

The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.

"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark." 

Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first  time in a long time, feels like things will be okay. 

He’ll be okay.

He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.

A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name. 

He likes it.

"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors. 

"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?" 

Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left. 

Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid. 

If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined. 

(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.) 

"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!" 

"I'm busy." He says flatly. 

"Ste~eeeve!" 

"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth. 

Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter. 

If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here. 

"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.” 

"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!" 

‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth. 

"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.” 

“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!” 

“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer. 

“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"

“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom. 

“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.

“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car. 

He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.

The one he swears he still has.

Supposedly. 

("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is. 

"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.

Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had. 

In a way no one ever had. 

Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"

"Ow, God Dustin--" 

"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!" 

"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him. 

Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend. 

He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it. 

It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)

[st7rns]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓, c. sturniolo

✿ IN WHICH, chris takes his spoiled!gf on her third shopping spree of the month and she finds a way to thank him…

✿ WARNINGS, smut, oral (male!receiving), use of curse words, semi-proof read

✿ RORA SPEAKS, guys this is my first story so it might be a lil bad but i js KNOW chris would spoil his gf so i had to write this 🙏🙏

i love my man.

he’s always buying me things. if i even smile at something i see while shopping, he’s already picking it up and putting it in our cart. the amount of times he swipes his card when he’s with me is insane.

i have all the new clothes, shoes, purses, etc. but it’s not like i ask him to buy me all these things, he does it on his own!

so far this month, he’d already taken me on two shopping sprees. one at target (who knew self care items were so expensive?) and the other for an online clothing store.

but i reallyyyy want a new purse. so, of course, after he saw me eyeing it for a few weeks, he asked me something like “what brand is that purse you wanted again?” and i practically screamed in excitement, “coach!”

and that explains why we’re at the mall, four shopping bags around my dainty wrists and my new purse around the other. “have i told you how much i love you?” i say sweetly, standing on my tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. my lip gloss made a mark and i smiled at it on his fine ass face.

“not enough” he says lowly, pressing the buttons on the vending machine. at the last store we were in, he practically begged for me to hurry the fuck up so he could get a pepsi or else ‘he’d die.’

he licked his lips in concentration as he watched the soda fall from its row in the vending machine, and it made my legs weak.

“well, i can show you” i whispered seductively in his ear, my hand shaking up his chest to the side of his neck. i inhaled his dior sauvage cologne and it only made me wetter.

“we’re in public, baby” he whispers back, looking around as if someone could hear us. i raised my eyebrows in a “so?” expression which only made him smile and shake his head. “you wanna fuck in the bathroom?”

i knew he was saying it jokingly but my lips form a pout, “what about all my stuff?” i hold up all my shopping bags. he looks down at the multiple bags and groans, “let’s get the fuck home, then”

as soon as he unlocked the door, i jumped on him like a wild fucking animal. i kissed and licked on his neck, earning me a squeeze on my ass and a groan from his lips.

“can’t wait. want you so bad” i whimpered in between kisses, reaching my hand down to palm his hard dick. he broke away to yell “NICK? MATT?” after a few minutes of no reply he picked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, and sat me on the kitchen counter.

“so needy, yeah?” he says breathlessly, pulling his pants and boxers down in one go. i slowly stroke his dick, sweetly kissing him on the lips at the same time “only for you”

he gave me a cocky grin as he slipped his hands up my shirt, groping and squeezing my boobs. i moaned and threw my head back.

after a few seconds of that, i pulled his hands away. i shook my head, my hair sticking to my lip gloss, “i wanna make you feel good, baby” i slowly got off the counter and dropped to my knees in front of him.

“gonna make me feel good?” he says teasingly. i kiss only the tip of his dick, his pre cum layering over my lip gloss, before looking up at him through my long lashes, and taking all of him in my mouth. or most of him.

he groans and grabs the back of my head, pushing him farther down my throat. “so fucking good, ma. take that shit” i bob my head up and down on his dick, tears filling the edges of my eyes.

the only sounds in the room are chris’ noises of pleasure and the wetness of my mouth around his lubricated dick. i can tell chris is close to reaching his high by the way he starts to sloppily stroke the back of my head.

“fuck- keep going, baby. i’m so close-“ before he can even finish his sentence, warm cum shoots down my throat. i swallow every last drop before popping his dick out my mouth.

“stick that tongue out, mama” he instructs and i do as i’m told, sticking my pink tongue out to show that i swallowed. “that’s my girl” he praises, cupping the side of my face and placing a gentle kiss on the top of my forehead.

“you’re gonna have to show me how much you love me way more often” he chuckles, pulling his drawers and pants up. i smile before gasping, suddenly remembering how he bought me a new purse, and sprinting to where we dropped all of my shopping bags.

i put the purse on, twirling in a circle to give chris the full picture. he licks his lips as he looks me up and down, “you’re so fucking beautiful. did you know that?”

[sturniolo04]

Piggy Back Rides M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

Summary: in which you love getting piggy back rides from your boyfriend

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

it was no secret you and matt love language was physical touch. Any chance you get you guys have to be touching each other it could even be a simple a linking pinkies for that matter you just had to been touching the other or you would go insane.

Although having been dating for a little over a year, you guys have figure out what form of physical touch you much crave from one another. Matt loves having his hands on you thighs it was not only a comfort thing for him especially when he was driving but it was also way to say that your were his and he and you knew it. For you you just love resting you head or even nuzzling your face in your boyfriends neck while your manicured hands run up and down his back or torso.

It was one of those nights that you were spending with your boyfriend and his brothers at their shared house, you sitting on the counter watching the triplets bicker about what to cook for dinner, them ultimately agreeing on mac and chesse.

" what are we wanting to do tomorrow"

nick asks chris and matt seeing they were all in kitchen still, matt turns around so his back was now facing you while he was still positioned in between your legs. You slowly sigh out clamly beginning to wrap your arms and let them drape over your boyfriends shoulders on either side.

" it doesnt matter to me honestly"

chris repsonds to his brother looking at matt as he shrugs his shoulder. you let out and audible sigh that your boyfriend could hear.

'whats wrong"

he chuckles out

" you have to move so i can get down"

"why"

"because matt im going to piss myself if you don't"

"i can just give you a piggy back ride there"

he chuckles grabbing your thighs wrapping them across his waist as you giggle tightly securing you arms around his neck.

"okay then byee"

you squeal out to nick and chris.

and thats how it started and it didn't have to be formal like that it could be a simple as you two standing in the position and not having a destination in mind.

" do you guys ever get tired of standing like that honey"

marylou asks her middle child seeing you were all standing in the kitchen with you clinging onto your boyfriend's back. As he simple shakes his head in response to his mom swaying from side to side knowing you are practically falling asleep from the motion.

"no mom they are always doing that and I don't get it"

nick complains out

"its fucking annoying"

chris chimes in as marylou smack him gently in the stomach for his choice of words.

"agh sorry mom but its true"

he groans out defending himself.

"okay then well do you like it"

she questions you smiling at you practically half asleep on her sons shoulder.

"mhm"

you yawn out letting your eyes flutter close.

"take her to bed honey"

marylou chuckles as matt walks upstairs saying good night to his family.

It's gotten to the point that sometimes mattt would even come up with any excuse to have you on his back.

"baby come on lets go for a walk"

matt pouts as he is standing in front of your sitting figure on your couch.

"matt it like 6:30 in the evening and its suppose to rain in like 20 mintues"

you huff out as he pushes his knee to push apart your knees to create space for in to sit in between them on the couch.

"matt what are you doing"

you giggle out just rolling with whatever your boyfriend is trying to do at this given moment. Matt proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck and then your legs after.

"matt"

you exclaim out as he stand up off of the couch jumping a few times to readjust you on his back and to get a better grip on your thighs. Matt starts making his way to the front door with you kicking you feet trying to get him to halt in his actions before walking out the front door seeing its now raining.

"matt no i dont want to get wet"

you groan and exclaim out, knowing even telling him this information he is still going to proceed to get you wet.

"oh come on its just rain"

he chuckles as he steps outside allowing the rain to start pouring over your guys figure, leaving a cool feeling on the bare skin of your arms.

"okay okay i want to go back inside now"

you complain to you boyfriend after being outside on just the driveway.

"MATTHEW"

you scream out as he sprints down the driveway into the street of the neighborhood, as you grip onto his shoulders tightly and then proceeding to dig your face into the side of his neck and shoulder as he spins you two around.

"look at these two idiots"

chris states from the inside of the house staring out the window with Nick right beside him recording the whole thing.

"they are so in love it make me sick honestly"

Nick jokes out as Chris chuckles.

In the end, to say piggy back rides have become you and matt's favorite thing would be an understatement.

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @dirtylittleheart333 @wh0resstuff @spicymuffins03 @stayingstromboli @aaliyahsturn

[restlessmaknae]

red light, green light // park sunghoon

After summer break and your break-up, it seems that things finally go back to normal. At least, until the first after-match party when in an attempt to save you from your ex, Sunghoon blurts out that you're his girlfriend now, and so, your fake dating starts.

➳ Characters: college rugby player!Sunghoon x cheerleader!female reader/you

➳ Genre: fake dating au, college au, sports au, angst, fluff

➳ Words: 6.2k

➳ Warning: reader is very insecure in the beginning and healing from a toxic relationship; the toxic, manipulative ex is also in the story (named Jaehyeok but he has no connection to any real-life people or characters), mentions of cheating on ex's part, injuries

➳ A/N: This story had the most votes in my recent poll, so here it is. It's also a spin-off to my most popular story 'how to cross the line?' with Jake that takes place before this one, but this story can absolutely be read on its own. ❤️

After the summer break, you thought that everything bad - including your break-up with Jaehyeok - would be forgotten. As a cheerleader and a college rugby player who had gotten together over the spring term, and had broken up close to finals, you had been the talk of town until everyone had gone home for the break. There had been a pleasantly short amount of time between the break-up and summer break with no football matches afterwards, so no way to see him up-front when he had been the last person you had wanted to see.

With the autumn term coming, it seemed to be true, and you couldn’t have been happier. The summer months weren’t enough to pick yourself up after the break-up, but they were enough to try to pick yourself up. He had humiliated you in front of his team members, and even though they didn’t look at you any differently, you could feel the lingering gazes on you two when Jaehyeok decided to sit beside you at the first after-match party of the season.

“Oooh, are you guys getting back together?” One of the boys cooed, laughing into his hands as if he had discovered the rumour of the century.

“We’re just being friendly to each other, you know,” Jaehyeok replied with a mellifluous smile, one that you had naively fallen for last semester. Now, you could see how well-practised this was, just like so many of his lines and his whole good boy behaviour. He was perfect only on the surface, he was rotten on the inside.

You could feel the overly curious eyes on you, hungry for an answer, for some drama like hawks circling around their prey. Too bad how fitting it was for those around you to be playing for the Hybe Hawks, they were predators when it came to your love life, and it had been the same when you had been together.

You forced a smile onto your face, nodding without saying a word and looking for a way out when Jay inquired if anyone wanted more meat, and you had never been more relieved in your life. If there were guys in the rugby team who were far from the rest, it would be Jake, Jay and Sunghoon. Those three were the ones who didn’t want to mingle with the others’ drama, and for that reason, you hadn’t really interacted with them before this semester because if you had hung out with other players from the team before, they had always been Jaehyeok’s friends. Now, however, they were the only ones who didn’t want to pick you apart since the break-up.

You tried to keep it in, you tried to conceal your feelings, while the conversation moved on, but when Jaehyeok put a piece of meat onto your plate without you asking him to, the weight on your shoulders doubled. It felt like you were trying to hold up too much, and all that weight could collapse onto you any minute, so to avoid that, you haphazardly excused yourself, saying that you didn’t feel well after drinking.

You threw your bag over your shoulder and exited the BBQ restaurant, the gazes of the athletes and cheerleaders searing into your back. You held onto the strip of your bag even tighter, trying to ground yourself to something real, something that you could control. You were so naive, really. How could you even assume that they could move on from your break-up and not bring it up anymore? How could you even assume that Jaehyeok would change, and bear the consequences of his actions when he had been the one saying those nasty things about you? You had been so stupid, so naive, so…

“Y/N!”

Jaehyeok’s all too familiar voice calling your name made your knees weak for a moment before you snapped yourself back to reality, reminding yourself that it was who he was, it was how he lured people in. You couldn’t believe in his sweet words anymore.

So you picked up your pace and walked even faster, but the red lights at the pedestrian crossing forced you to stop, to look at him when he halted beside you, and to listen to his mellifluous words.

“Hey! What was that about before? I just want us to be cool with each other after you called it quits.”

That was the problem with Jaehyeok. When you looked at these - this scene, his words, the cool expression on his face - from an outsider’s point of view, everything seemed ideal, almost perfect. Yet, when you were the one inside of it, you knew how that illusion of perfection casted its shadow onto you; how you felt suffocated under it, desperately trying to hold onto it because just as he had said it about you to his friends, you had been nothing without him. If you had not gotten together with him during the first semester, no one would have taken note of your existence. Even if you had been in the cheerleading team, the girls had started talking to you only after Jaehyeok had done the same.

And this… this is what Jaehyeok had done disgustingly well: to raise you up, to make you feel special, so you wouldn’t leave his side. Too bad you had caught him telling the other guys the same once and catching him kissing some girl at an after-match party another time. You hadn’t supposed to be there at the party, that’s true, since the group work meeting you would have gone to had been cancelled last minute, but to see him shove his tongue down another girl’s throat while murmuring to her that he would break up with you soon, so she shouldn’t worry had made you frozen on the spot. You wouldn’t have it in you to confront him on the spot, so you had left the party almost as soon as you had gotten there, tears pricking your ears, and the only person who had asked you if you had been alright was Sunghoon when you had managed to bump into him while exiting the scene.

The flashbacks poured onto you one after another, and you could feel your hands shaking by your sides while you were momentarily reliving them.

“You would have broken up with me anyway, we both know that,” you pointed out rather indignantly, desperately glancing side-ways to see how much more time you needed to wait for the lights to turn green.

35 more seconds…

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you should act all weird when we’re beside each other. Just because you’ve prioritised school over dates with me doesn’t make me a bad guy,” he justified all too innocently, and there it was again: turning the tables around, making you feel small, blaming you for what happened. Blaming you for not having enough time for him, so he had to kiss other girls.

20 more seconds…

“It’s not like I don’t see you talking more with Jay, Jake and Sunghoon since we broke up,” Jaehyeok spitted as if he couldn’t just let it be, and you balled your hands into fists, your nails digging into your skin.

15 more seconds….

Yeah, the only ones who were willing to speak to you after the break-up, god forbid you didn’t tell them off, you thought to yourself.

“I’ve been talking to them since we broke up, not before. There’s a difference between what you did and how I've been talking to guys ever since.”

“And besides, she’s her own person, she can do what she wants,” a voice from behind meddled with the tension hanging over you and Jaehyeok, and as he stepped beside you, so he would come between you and your ex, it felt a bit like he was shielding you. Both figuratively and literally.

You would have recognised that slender build of his, the fringe in his eyes and the depth of his voice anywhere, and even though it was Park Sunghoon out of all people, you didn’t mind that he was the one who showed up. You had no idea whether it had anything to do with the fact that he had seen you exit that ominous after-match party with teary eyes, but even if it was pity, you could take it given the circumstances.

“What do you know, man?”

“I know everything,” Sunghoon stated sternly, keeping eye-contact with Jaehyeok who furrowed his eyebrows in question. Even though you clearly doubted that he knew everything, he announced it so confidently that you would have believed him all the same, and you could feel the same coming from Jaehyeok, too. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t bother her anymore. She’s my girlfriend now.”

The way Sunghoon declared it so matter-of-factly rendered you speechless, and you just stood there, frozen, and even though people started crossing the street, you totally forgot about the lights turning green. It felt as if the whole world stopped all at once, and yet, a sort of warmth peeked through the rain clouds, as if a ray of hope found its way through all the dirt.

Given that you didn’t argue with Sunghoon’s statement because you were too shocked yet numb to do so, Jaehyeok believed it. Though he clearly looked like he didn’t want to believe it.

“Sure. Congrats on getting her. It’s not like I would ever want her back,” Jaehyeok exclaimed a little too frustrated as his last words before turning around and heading back to the restaurant.

You watched him go with a mix of rage and relief, then, your eyes searched Sunghoon’s who was already looking at you. He was nibbling on his lower lip, awfully nervous for someone who had just bluffed about being your boyfriend, and the calm facade of his broke when he spoke up:

“I’m so sorry about this. I didn’t know what else to say to make him go away,” he mumbled, coy and guilty, but you could only care about the kindness lacing his words, and the genuine care in his eyes. You didn’t know him well enough to draw conclusions, but based on your previous encounters with him, you would say that it took him some courage to walk up to you two like that and to save you from the situation with a lie.

So you felt even more grateful for his interruption, and you didn't even want him to think otherwise.

“No, really, it’s… it’s fine. Thanks for that,” you blurted out, equally as uncertain what to say. Sunghoon’s eyes slipped from your face to your hands, and that’s when you realised that your hands were still shaking.

“Did he…” He breathed out, shaky and worried, before pointing at your hands. “Did he do anything to you?”

You could feel how difficult it was for him to say the words, and the weight his question carried was heavy, his question loaded. It made his earlier act less surprising for he could even assume that Jaehyeok would dare to do something like that.

“No, he didn’t do anything like that. It was just… his words as always…”

“Those matter, too,” Sunghoon whispered, somewhat to himself, before looking around. You didn’t know what he was thinking or what he was trying to do, but the lights were red for the third time you were here, so you couldn’t go on your way either way.

When Sunghoon turned back to you, he examined your expression before averting his eyes to your hands again. He could see that your hands were less shaky but you still fumbled with them to ease your nerves, and maybe that’s what prompted him to announce:

“I will go back to the dorms with you. I don’t want you to be alone after this.”

You were so shocked by his gentleness that you couldn’t form proper words, so you just nodded and crossed the street beside him when the lights turned green.

It’s safe to say that you didn’t think about the consequences of your actions - or should you say Sunghoon’s actions? - because by the next day, everyone had gotten to know that you were Sunghoon’s girlfriend (which, in fact, you weren’t) thanks to Jaehyeok gossiping. The cheerleading group chat exploded with questions and next day’s rugby practice was all about the so-called news, so you had to have an emergency meeting with Sunghoon at the end of the day.

You were in the corridor leading to the business department’s simulation labs, and since those were for societies and extra-curricular workshops, you knew that it would be rare to bump into anyone around here. So it was just the two of you, sitting on a hallway bench, the air somewhat more troubled than the day before.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would come to this,” Sunghoon broke the silence almost immediately, his voice deep and worn. He couldn’t look you in the eye, instead, he was playing with his fingers and staring far ahead.

“It’s okay, really,” you tried to reassure him as best as you could. “I’ve been through this before. It gets better after a week,” you shrugged nonchalantly, forcing yourself to avoid having flashbacks of the time you and Jaehyeok had gotten together.

Sunghoon let out a shaky breath hearing that, and you could feel that he was about to say something, but when he turned towards you with his body, he didn’t say anything. Expectant, you looked at him, locking eyes with him, and for a moment, you had a feeling that you might burst into tears. He looked at you so worried, so gentle, as if he was ready to start a revolution for you, it opened a hidden locker in your heart that had never experienced such kindness coming from a boy.

“Are you really okay?” He inquired quietly, barely audible, and it didn’t slip your attention that he glanced down at your hands resting in your lap before looking into your eyes again.

“I’m as fine as I can be. If I’m not fine, it’s not because of this situation, but because of Jaehyeok, so really, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“Do you want to keep this up? Our… fake relationship?” He hesitated a bit before continuing, and you found it adorable how his ears turned red when he babbled the word ‘relationship’ out loud.

“If you don’t mind,” you answered, giving him the chance to back out because you didn’t want him to tie himself to you over an attempt to save you from your douchebag ex.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, almost comically, as if it hurt him to hear such a suggestion. Then, he held up his hands in front of his chest, waving them in heavy opposition.

“No, no, I don’t.”

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure,” you let out a little chuckle seeing his objection, and the boy still blinked at you, albeit a bit shyly now.

So you went on to discuss that you would keep up this fake relationship, but nothing was forced. If either of you wanted to put an end to it, the other one would agree immediately. There were no forced dates or social media posts or appearances, just whatever you were comfortable with. You exchanged contacts, so you would be able to keep in touch without having to wait for the other after practices or matches. Speaking of which, you told Sunghoon that you would quit the cheerleading team, and even though he was worried that it was because of him and this whole fake dating thing, you were quick to reassure him that it had nothing to do with it. You merely didn’t enjoy it anymore, and it’s not like you had any supportive friends there.

Hearing that, the boy seemed quite disheartened as if he had any say in how the girls in the team acted. Instead, when you brought up the fact that you could still join any dance-related club because it was early into the semester, and they were still recruiting members, he mentioned that Jake’s girlfriend was a member of a dance club.

“Oh really? Which one?”

“Well, that… I don’t know which one,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. You let out a giggle seeing his reaction; the way his face changed from enthusiastic to confused so quickly. People might have said that he had a stern face, but you would object. He might have seemed nonchalant and icy to some, but when someone got into a conversation with him, all of these different sides of him surfaced, and you realised that you liked discovering the Sunghoon that not everyone had the chance to know.

“It’s okay, you can let me know once you get to know about it,” you pointed out with a smile as you reminded him that you now had each other’s contact. His shoulders easened and he let his lips curl upwards seeing your smile.

You talked a bit more before you suggested going back to the dorms. Sunghoon offered to walk back with you since he was also heading that way, and you didn’t want to tell him that it didn’t even cross your mind that you would go separately after last time.

You were right, the heightened attention that you got because Jaehyeok had told the others that you were dating Sunghoon died down after a week or so. You quit the cheerleading team in the meantime, so you were out of their group chat too, and that probably added to the sudden lack of questions. You had some glances from people who knew who you were, but otherwise, things went back to normal. To be precise, almost normal.

Though you had no idea what to consider fake-dating Park Sunghoon to be. It was definitely not your usual way of doing things, but Jaehyeok backed off ever since Sunghoon’s lie, and it’s not like the boy forced anything onto you. In fact, he was the most considerate soul ever. He indeed asked Jake which dance club his girlfriend went to, and you joined the same after the boys introduced you two to each other. It was nice to get to know someone who was close to the boys, and who definitely didn’t make you feel small after getting to know about your deal with Sunghoon. Ajung knew about it because Sunghoon’s friends were the only ones who knew, but she wasn’t weirded out by it.

You got to know about how they had known each other with Jake, how they had gotten together, and she also shared how it felt to date one of the rugby players. She had a different experience to yours because she wasn’t a cheerleader, but she still got stares and hateful messages. At the end of the day, what mattered to her was that Jake loved her, and she had never questioned his loyalty.

“I guess it’s because I could never imagine him meeting other girls behind my back that I don’t take those messages to heart,” Ajung admitted once, and it dawned on you that you had felt insecure in your relationship with Jaehyeok because you had been afraid he had been meeting other girls. You had been right, but still; just the fact that you could have imagined him cheating on you should have been a major red flag.

On the other hand, you couldn’t imagine the same about Sunghoon. Even if you were technically not together, the boy made sure time and time again that he was fine with it and wasn’t meeting other girls. So when he went to the after-match parties without you because you didn’t feel like going anymore, you weren’t afraid that he was kissing other girls. Which was a surprising realisation to come to, because one would think that you lost all hope in trusting guys after Jaehyeok. Maybe it would have been true had it been for someone else, but you trusted Sunghoon. Even more so because he was always on your side, even if it meant getting into a fight with Jaehyeok after his rugby practice.

You were studying in the library after classes, and you knew that Sunghoon was supposed to finish around this time, so you shot him a message, only to be left on read for half an hour. Hence, you packed up your stuff and went back to the dorms, not wanting to force anything onto the boy.

However, almost as soon as you arrived at the dorms, you got a message from Jake, saying that you should probably talk to Sunghoon because he had a rough day. He was out with Ajung, but Sunghoon would probably be in their dorm room, so you could talk to him in private.

You didn’t need to be told twice; you walked up to the boys’ dorm room (knowing all too well where they lived in the halls since walking back to the dorms together became a habit of yours), and knocked on their door. You didn’t get an answer, so you messaged the boy again. You started getting worried when Sunghoon suddenly showed up in the corridor, already changed back into his usual jeans, a tee and a cardigan thrown over it. When he caught sight of you in front of their door, his eyes widened and his lips visibly parted.

On the other hand, you had the same reaction, but not because of his presence, it was because of the bruise around his lips and on his jaw. It didn’t look like he had hurt himself during practice as you had been familiar with those kinds of injuries due to Jaehyeok. It looked like he had been in a fight.

“Oh my gosh, Sunghoon! Are you okay?” You immediately went up to him, checking on his bruises from closer, yet not touching him because you didn’t want to be invasive. So you looked up at him, waiting for him to reply, but instead of words, he closed the distance between you two and hugged you.

You were so bewildered that you just stood there, blinking rapidly, and you could neither say anything, nor do anything. Your heart, on the other hand, was beating so erratically, you were afraid that it would jump out of your ribcage.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You asked, totally confused, while you hugged the boy back. As you laced your arms around his waist, you could feel the boy tense a bit, probably unprepared for you hugging him back, but he eased into your touch a few seconds later.

“For what you had to deal with beside Jaehyeok,” he explained gently, quietly like a confession, murmuring the words into your hair. You were so used to words that cut like a knife that his words - that were like a soothing cream on a bruised heart - felt like a remedy, the boy tending to your broken heart with only a few syllables, a few breaths of words.

You hugged him back tighter, stronger, a silent response to his sentence, and soaked up this warmth, this comforting feeling for a few seconds before you took a step back and pulled yourself out of the hug. You looked up at him, heart churning at the sight but even more so when your hunch was proven right.

“Was it his doing?” You asked as you pointed at his face, and the boy didn’t need to be asked twice. He nodded, but there was no remorse in his tone when he spoke up.

“I was the one who punched him first. I couldn’t just stand what he was saying about you. He is so-”

“I know,” you cut him off, knowing all too well that whatever he was going to say was something you already knew. Instead, you asked if he had treated his bruises already (though it didn’t seem like it), and when he confirmed that he hadn’t, yet he had bought some antiseptic and plasters from the pharmacy, you offered to help him tend to his wound.

He seemed startled for a few seconds, but didn’t object. He let you inside their dorm room instead, and pushed a few things off his study desk, so he could put down his bag and get the pharmacy’s plastic bag out of it. He fumbled a bit with the bag before he reached it out to you, and just stood there as if he didn’t know what to do himself until you told him that it would probably be better if you both sat down because you know, he was quite tall…

“Oh yeah, right… sorry,” he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly before taking a seat on his bed and pushing a few things onto the edge of his bed, so you could sit beside him comfortably.

You only realised how close you were when you leaned forward to put the antiseptic on the corner of his lip, and you came face-to-face with the moles dotting his face like little black stars on the galaxy of his skin. The shade of his eyes also seemed darker from up close, like the sky when it didn’t yet turn to its darkest, deepest colour, and the way he batted his eyelashes was just as elegant as the boy himself. He seemed so dream-like as he was blinking at your swiftly moving fingers, you were afraid that if you stopped, he would vanish. You wished that you could prolong these moments longer and longer…

Yet, you were finished in no time, and after you put a plaster on the bruise of his jaw, you put everything back into the plastic bag while trying to pacify the crazy beating of your heart. You appreciated that the boy let you do this for him after he had stood up for you even without you being there, and even though he didn’t regret it, you still felt bad for him. He shouldn’t have felt like this was his battle to win, but he was protective over you, more than he should have been given your fake relationship.

“Thank you,” you blurted out as such thoughts circled your mind. “From that after-match party when you asked me if I was okay after seeing Jaehyeok kiss another girl up until today, I feel like you’ve been taking care of me so well, I’m really grateful,” you confessed as you turned towards him again, searching for his eyes.

The boy’s delicate features immediately softened, and you could see it on his face, in his eyes, in the way he held himself that he would have done it again and again if it meant that he could take care of you.

“You deserve it. You really do,” he stated, not leaving room for objection, and that was when it hit you. That emotional overflow that had been building inside of you ever since you had been talking with Sunghoon, and time and time again, he proved to you that you were cared for, and that there were people looking out for you despite what Jaehyeok had been telling you, and that you were your own person, not a nobody.

“Thank you,” you choked out, trying to hold it in, but when tears started prickling your eyes, you knew that it was time to let it all out. So you did, without being ashamed, without feeling weak. This was you, a side of you that you now dared to show the world.

And Sunghoon was there to help you through it all by lending a shoulder to cry on and strong arms to hold you safe and sound, wrapping you up in warmth and comfort.

Something changed that day, and you could feel the shift in your relationship.

It’s not that you two were cold towards each other before, you were merely more tentative. You appreciated it, the fact that Sunghoon kept his distance, and he was as polite about every little touch, every little action as one could be, but after that night, you started opening up slowly, letting each other in more and more.

It was gradual, of course. With your history with Jaehyeok and Sunghoon’s generally reserved personality, it wasn’t an obvious change from one day to another, but you enjoyed it nevertheless. You enjoyed the walks back to the dorms, the times you spent messaging each other on and off campus, the times when you hang out with him and his friends after matches (instead of hanging out with the cheerleaders and Jaehyeok’s friends), the lunches you grabbed together between classes, and how throughout it all, you got to know that Sunghoon was actually far from quiet when he was around those he was comfortable with.

He was pretty talkative when a topic was brought up that interested him or when he needed to defend his opinion. He was also pretty funny, making funny faces when reacting to certain campus drama and being his extra self when walking into a place where you were waiting for him. He was also very, very caring, but it went without saying by that point; lending you his jacket when autumn arrived with violent winds and unexpected weather conditions from one day to another, buying a drink for you when he knew that you would be staying at the library to study, holding the door for you and offering to bring your books when you were working on an assignment and had to rent a bunch of books for a week, and looking out for your reactions whenever Jaehyeok was brought up in a conversation or the boy was close by.

Actually, with him by your side, it was easier to put your ex in the past; because Sunghoon showed you such a different way of being together with a boy. You were still fake dating, but the way nothing was forced for the sake of social media or the questions of his nosy team members showed you that he would be just as considerate about your feelings and your comfort as if you had been actually dating.

Maybe that’s why it wasn’t that difficult to say yes to a weekend trip to the winter sea with his friends - Jake, Ajung and Jay. It was just the five of you, renting a small apartment for two days and one night in December; two of the boys sharing a room and one of them sleeping on the couch in the living room (it goes without saying that they decided with rock-paper-scissors that it would be Sunghoon on the couch) while you were sharing a room with Ajung.

During the day, you went to the beach to take a long walk alongside the coast, the boys teasing you while splashing water around, taking pictures and having lunch nearby in a cosy little café. You went to a cliff too, Sunghoon reaching his hand out to help you move from one rock to another while walking towards it, and Jake did the same towards Ajung, so Jay was sulking that he was visibly left out. To which, both of the boys joked to offer their help, but Jay just shushed them. They were having too much fun teasing him.

At night, you went to the grocery store and bought ingredients for dinner which you prepared together. To be precise, you weren’t sure Sunghoon was much help as he was singing songs he put on the speakers into a ladle, and Jake was too busy taking pictures of Ajung with a knife (saving it for himself as possible future meme material as he said), but Jay was doing everything so professionally, it seemed like he didn’t need help either way. You tried nevertheless, cutting up the veggies and bringing him stuff from the fridge while he was by the oven, naturally finding something to talk about in the meantime.

“You know, Sunghoon seems happier since you started talking,” he brought it up suddenly while he was stirring the stew. You both glanced in the direction of the boy who was too busy finding a good song to play next, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

“Oh really?” You quirked an eyebrow, feeling a bit shy, because it meant that you had a positive impact on the boy.

“Yeah,” the boy nodded without thinking twice about it. “I’ve never seen him date a girl, but even if you are fake-dating, I think that’s what he would act like,” he added seriously, and there was no hint of mischief in his eyes, hence, you believed him. At least, you wanted to believe him.

However, you had no idea what to say to that, so you just nodded, and as your eyes glanced in the boy’s direction yet again, your heart did a little somersault. Truth to be told, it didn’t really feel like fake-dating at this point because you and Sunghoon actually spent a lot of time together, getting to know each other, and he even invited you for this trip, so that had to mean something. On the other hand, since you hadn’t seen Sunghoon interact with other girls before (except for smiling awkwardly when the cheerleaders had tried to hit on him), you didn’t know how he acted around them.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t keep Jay’s words out of your head for the remaining day, so when it was just the two of you left in the living room as Sunghoon was making his bed (aka his couch) and you were refilling your water bottle, you felt like you had to ask the boy the same.

“Sunghoon…” You started tentatively as you halted beside the couch which was now covered with a bedsheet, a fluffy blanket and a pillow. The boy looked up from his haphazardly made bed, finding your eyes. He tilted his head like he always did when he was confused, but there was a hint of curiosity in his midnight-black orbs.

“Hmm?”

“Jay said that you seem happier since we started talking,” you said it in one-go, fiddling with the protective layer around your water bottle. “Do you agree with him?”

Silence settled over you two after your question, and even though it was probably just a few seconds, your heartbeat felt twice as heavy as before as you were waiting for his answer. Sunghoon’s confused features easened into a more natural state, but there was a hue tinting his cheeks pinkish when he answered:

“Yeah, I’m happier.”

Your shoulders immediately dropped in ease despite the fact that you couldn’t imagine him saying something hurtful even if he might not have agreed with his friend. It’s just… you felt like you hadn’t really been paying attention to his feelings in the beginning of your fake dating since you had been buried under all the hurt from Jaehyeok. When you had managed to pick yourself up from that dark hole, Sunghoon had already been acting the way he did nowadays, so you couldn’t tell whether he was happier or not. Not to mention that you hadn’t really been looking his way in the first semester because you had been dating a different rugby player.

Now though, you couldn’t imagine not seeing him and not looking for him. His presence could always bring a sense of comfort, and he didn’t even have to say anything, you were just fine being beside him. On top of that, you could be yourself beside him, you knew that. He had seen you when you had been vulnerable and torn, and he hadn’t taken advantage of that, nor had he said anything that might have implied that you should change your ways around him.

“Well, me too,” you admitted as your thoughts kept circling back to the warmth he spread, the gratitude he made you feel, the happiness he bloomed in your chest and… to him. “I like you,” you found yourself saying as you overcame with all the emotions leading up to this point, but you immediately bit down on your lower lip when you realised what you had just said.

Sunghoon seemed shocked for a moment, then shy, then baffled again as if he didn’t want to believe his ears.

“Oh, I, well…” He blabbered coyly, not finding the right words to say. Even in this state, you found him cute because he was trying. He was just nervous like you, but you could wait for him to say what he wanted to say. Not like you could budge, you were entranced either way.

Sunghoon cleared his throat to regain his courage, then as he stepped closer to you, he finally said:

“I like you too.”

And then his arms were around you, strong yet gentle, and you inhaled his sandalwood perfume, your heart thumping against your chest, wild and free. You realised then and there that you had been secretly waiting for this moment, and you wanted to stay in it as long as possible.

“So no more fake dating, I assume?” He murmured into your hair, his voice a bit raspy yet laced with joy.

“No more,” you agreed with a slight bob of your head, and let him hug you tighter, stronger as if he never wanted to let you go.

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[asterias-record-shop]

—𓆩[something worse]𓆪—

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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Tobias Eaton (Four) x Fem! Dauntless Born! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Four had been together since he chose Dauntless, especially because you were one of the Dauntless born pulled into training. You both had never put a label on your relationship because it never seemed right, but everyone knew that you both were a couple, except the newest tributes you both were training, no matter how obvious you both made it. It seems you both have to make it a little more obvious.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - so sorry I was writing this during a final and it might suck I’m sorry 😭 || cursing || unprotected sex || creampie || oral || fingering

You were used to wandering eyes, you really were, your partner was literally the hottest man in Dauntless. It didn’t really matter about wandering eyes though when they knew you both were together, label or not, but it seemed to be difficult to get through the mind of one of the new initiates.

You weren’t born Abnegation like either of them, you were a bitch and you made sure everyone knew it. You were a lovable bitch though, that’s why you were being fucked every night by the hottest man in all of the factions.

It passed through your mind to just show her, get Four to tell her something is going on in a certain area just to pull him there to fuck you. You passed it through Tori just to make sure, and she said no though, so you decided not to go through with it.

Maybe that’s why you were watching Four fix Tris’ position because she wouldn’t stick with it when Eric did it. It made your skin crawl, staring at the two of them. Maybe it did feel right that he was with someone from his home faction, didn’t he like selfless people? You were selfless in your own way, right? He knew that.

“Hey, you okay?” Uriah asks you, a smile quickly making its way to your face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, thank you. I’m going to go see how some of the kids are doing, you mind telling Four?” You start collecting your stuff, inhaling deeply as Uriah follows you.

“He’s coming over here.”

You shoot up as Four stands in front of you, his brow raised. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go do my time at the school,” you say, smiling slightly. “I just… haven’t seen King in a while.”

Four sighs. “Well… I can go with you in a minute, okay? King likes me, right?”

You laugh, slowly lifting your arms to wrap your arms around his neck before pausing. Public displays of affection were never really your thing, but you really wanted to.

Four saw you pause, leaning down to wrap his arms around your waist as you smiled and wrapped yours around his neck. “Everyone likes you, Four,” you teased, giggling. “But I love you.”

He smiles back, leaning down for a soft kiss as you tugged on his hair. “I love you too.”

You pulled his hands closer to your form, pulling his face into your neck as you looked over his shoulder just enough to wink at Tris before pulling away. “Let’s go see King.”

He nods, letting you lead him out of the training area and to the school. Dauntless didn’t teach like Erudite did, but they made sure that the children of the faction learned things needed to survive in the faction. King was a child of two Dauntless soldiers who had died exploring beyond the wall, and as a result, you both took him in sort of like your own.

Seeing you with a child really made Four want to give you a child, especially with how good you were with kids, but it never really seemed to be the right time.

That was until he saw you twirling another boy in your eyes, King cleaning one of Four’s guns while the older man oiled up one of the other ones. The younger boy was named Chris, someone whose parents got caught up in a mission and you both took him home just for a while.

“She looks good with a baby, right?” King asks, smiling. “Y/N was always good with kids. She was good with me,” he mumbles now, smiling. “I’m doing well in my training. She said that.”

“You are,” Four said with a smile. “You’re doing really well. Ranked third, kid, you’re doing good,” he leaned forward and ruffled his hair with a laugh. “Want you to get that first spot, though.”

King grins. “I will.”

Someone knocks making you fix Chris on your hip, quickly walking toward the door as Four stands. “Stay there,” he orders to King as you open the door, raising a brow when you see Tris. “Who is it?”

“Uhm… can I help you?”

She inhaled. “I just… I’m here to see Four.”

“Four, honey!” You yell out, the tall man coming behind you and settling a hand on your hip. “One of the trainees wants to speak with you.”

Four raised a brow. “Everything alright?”

Oh, the Abnegation was coming out.

“Y-Yeah, everything’s fine-”

“Perfect,” Four smiles, taking Chris from your arms and setting him on the ground. “King, come here!”

The older boy quickly walks over, standing just like Four. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you take Chris down to eat? Tris will join you both,” Four says making King’s nose scrunch. “What?”

“Don’t forget I sleep here too.” King takes Chris’ hand, looking back just a bit. “Don’t forget I have a bed! That’s my bed!”

“Bye, King!” You laughed as Four grinned, closing the door as his other hand held your waist.

You couldn’t stop smiling, giggling as you stared up at him. “You did that, didn’t you?”

His smile grows, just a bit. “Yeah, I did. Uriah kind of… hinted it to me.”

You hummed. “Good, because I would've done something worse,” you said, slowly stepping back and pushing your hands into his tight black shirt. “I was this close.”

“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?” He asked, smiling as the back of your knees bumps against the bed. His rough hands slip under your shirt, rubbing against your back as though he could feel the black ink you had gotten tattooed.

“Was gonna make her catch us fucking in the corridor,” you giggled as Four slipped off your shirt, humming as he leaned down. “Who said we always have to fuck on the bed? You like that idea?”

He nodded into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses to your skin as you started to lean back, his hands securely catching you before you could fall back fully. Carefully, he sets you down, his mouth pressing hot kisses to your neck down your chest. “I fucking love that idea,” he mumbled, his hand slowly rubbing circles against your thigh. “You want to go do that now?”

It was a tempting offer, but you shake your head. “No,” you say, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “You already got me here. Why move?”

He smiled even wider, leaning down as his hands moved to your hips to slowly tug at the tactile pants you wore. “I was thinking,” he whispers as you pull him down to press kisses to his neck. You could see the black peeking out from his shirt, pulling it off of him easily as he pulled away just to slip it off before pulling off your own. “You looked good with Chris on your hip.”

You paused, looking up at him. “You think so?”

He nodded, his hands tugging at your sports bra as your hands dragged down his back. He kneels over your body, pressing kisses down your neck to your chest. “I know so. You’re a natural with kids, angel, you’re fucking perfect.”

The slight husk in his voice made a shiver run up your back, your stomach twisting and heat flooding into your underwear as he lets his hot mouth suck at your lower stomach. “D-Does that mean something?”

He smiled, looking up at you. “Did I just get a Dauntless-born to stutter?”

You blushed madly, looking away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Four.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your pelvic bone before he slowly starts to pull your underwear off, his fingers dancing along your thighs as you squirmed, gasping as he pressed a firm kiss to your clit. It makes you squirm, his fingers replacing his lips as he kisses lower and lower.

“F-Fuck,” you whimper as the tip of his fingers slowly prod against your cunt, his mouth sucking and licking around his fingers as your hands push into his hair. “F-Four, you’re being too nice.”

He laughs, pulling away just for a minute as he slowly pushes a thick finger into you, watching as your hips buck into the air and your back arches. “Maybe it’s the Abnegation?”

You shook your head, reaching a hand down to push his fingers deeper into your pussy. It makes you whine, a gasp coming from your lips as he pulls them out just for a second to add another finger. “Abnegation is selfless, my darling, maybe it’s the Amity? J-Just, don’t stop.”

He laughs, popping a kiss to your cunt before pushing his fingers deeper into you, watching as you squirmed. Moans fall from your lips as he pressed firm circles against your clit, the sensitive bud making you whine loudly, hips bucking.

His fingers curl inside of you, pushing his tongue into you with his fingers as you tug on his hair and your other hand finds his cheek.

You felt your stomach twisting, hips bucking uncontrollably as you attempted to ride his fingers. You gasped as his fingers curled inside of you, attempting to find that one soft spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back. It didn’t take him long to find, especially because he’s memorized your body over the years and he groaned as you clenched around him.

“Come on honey, cum for me. Want to watch you cum.”

Your eyes rolled back, whimpering as he pushed his fingers knuckle deep into you to watch your pussy flutter. Your stomach twists, loud groaning falling from your lips as your stomach twists. Your hips buck, eyes rolling back as he sucked on your cunt, swallowing loudly as he pulled out his fingers.

He pulled away, sitting up as he pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his cock, hissing as you raised your legs to wrap around his waist. He grunts as he slowly pushes into you, eyes rolling back as he leaned down to hold himself up with his elbows, pulling you in for a kiss. “Fucking hell, I want to see you with my kids so bad,” he groaned, gasping as you pulled him down for a kiss. “Want to see you pregnant over and over again.”

You whined, his hips moving quickly as the bed pounded into the wall, your nails dragging down his back. His cock rammed into your pussy, strong thrusts making your eyes roll back as he pressed his lips to your neck. “You want that honey? Want to be fucked, round and full with my kids?”

You nodded, whining loudly. “Yes! Yes, I do!”

He grunts loudly, slamming into you just to feel your pussy clench along his entire shaft, a broken moan leaving his lips as you cum again around him. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, fuck! Four!” You yelled out as he reaches down to rub firm circles into your clit, rutting his hips just a few more times as he came inside you for the first time without protection.

It was an odd feeling, but filling as he groaned loudly, your cunt continued to clench around him to milk him of everything he had. It was warm, and if you could feel sticky-ness inside of you, it would be this. You whimper as he starts to pull out, trying to reach forward to pull him back in before he grabs your legs, pushing them back so your knees were on your shoulders.

“You don’t think we’re done yet, do you? Gotta make sure this sticks.”

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© asterias-record-shop

[monster-disaster]

Can I request a bad boy Biker dullahan with a sweet chubby fem reader. He is teaching her how to ride his bike from behind but is also making it very hard when he's groping her breasts, rubbing her thighs, and grinding his cock against her thick ass. Slight bit of exhibitionism.

dullahan!Rip x human!Reader Good to know: smut

"Are you sure it is a good idea?" You ask your boyfriend for what seems like the millionth time. Your words are muffled by the way you nibble on your lower lip with a worried crease between your brows.

A low chuckle comes from behind you. "Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" He asks back. One of his motorcycle-gloved hands lands on your shoulder. The black leather is cold and soft on your bare skin as it slips up to your neck, smoothing your hair out of the way.

"I don't want to ruin it."

He laughs again. You can feel the rumble of his chest as it presses against your back to steer you closer to the bike. "How a little thing like you could ruin it, love?" Amusement laces his question.

You know he is right. At the beginning of your relationship, you called his bike 'the Beast,' and the name stuck for good reason. (You didn't know about the significance of naming a biker's bike, but it's for another story.) It's a massive thing with black and silver details. Its sides are like ribcages, hugging the bike from wheel to wheel with an eerie green light filtering through them.

"Hop on, love," Rip says, patting your hips when you say nothing. "It will be fun." His voice carries a dark undertone, but you decide to ignore it for now. You are too focused on the Beast in front of you.

"You act like you never sat on it before," your boyfriend teases while grabbing your hips to haul you onto the bike. He moves you easily.

A high squeak leaves your lips, and you grab onto the grip the moment you can reach them. The silvery ribs are cold against your legs as you adjust yourself on the leather seat.

"A warning would have been nice," you groan.

The bike dips a little when he sits down behind you. His long legs close around you, pressing to your skirt-clad curves.

"Next time," he promises, but you know he is lying. He has too much fun with putting you anywhere he wants to. "And now, go!"

"Rip!" You scowl, looking back at him over your shoulder.

He wears his usual black jacket that is illuminated by the green, misty light coming from his neck where his head should be. Instead, his head, a skull with the same light in the eye sockets, rests in one of his hands.

"Fine. Then let's do this step by step." He says it like it's a bad thing to do. "Here, put it down in front of you."

The fact that he can simply offer you his head still shocks you, even though you are touched by the gesture every time he trusts you with it.

Stupid male had a real laugh at you when he threw it at you for the first time, and you almost got a heart attack, afraid you would drop or hurt him somehow.

Holding his skull softly in your hands, you put it on the dashboard, making sure it won't fall off.

"What's next?" You ask him.

"Start the engine." Even though his skull is in front of you, his voice comes from behind you.

When you do nothing, he leans closer. "Come on, you ride with me all the time."

"In the back," you reason. " I never see over your shoulder."

"You are lucky you are cute," he sighs. "Turn the key."

You follow his instructions carefully until the engine awakens underneath you with a soft rumble. You can feel its power between your legs, vibrating and rippling through your bones.

"What's next?" You ask him with a bit more confidence than you started a few minutes ago. You can totally do this. Who knows, maybe you will get your own bike too. A pink one to match Rip's Beast.

"Slow down, tiger," the dullahan laughs as if reading your thoughts. "First, you need to get used to it. You are not my backpack now, you have to get to know the power between your legs."

He presses you down on the black leather seat by your hips. His fingers dig into your thick flesh while his chest presses to you back some more.

"Do you feel it?" He asks, amused.

Your lips go dry the more you feel the engine under you. It purrs between your legs, going straight to your pussy.

"You have to be confident and purposeful to handle a beast like this," Rip continues, making your hips rock just barely. The small movement punches a sudden gasp out of your mouth. Your clit starts to throb and ache at the friction.

"Wha-what are you doing?" You ask him, voice already hoarse.

"I am teaching you."

"It doesn't feel like it."

He hums. You know, if he could, he would grin.

"Then how does it feel?" Rip teases. His hands from your hips go to your breasts. Your light summer dress does nothing to stop his wandering fingers.

"It feels like something we shouldn't do in front of the open garage door," you tell him. Your eyes snap from his skull to the outside world. The street is quiet, but it's still daytime.

"Then we should hurry."

You frown. His thumbs ghost over your nipples through the thin fabric. "With what?"

"Making you cum."

It was not his original plan, though. He really wanted to give you a taste of how driving a bike feels like, but the moment he sat down behind you, he forgot everything. The feel of your soft flesh and generous curves tend to do that to him. He isn't complaining, though, especially not when he can have his hands on your tits, playing with their weight while rubbing your nipples until they are hard and sensitive under the thick pads of his gloves.

"Rip!" You squeal when he grabs the collar of your dress and pulls it down. Your breasts spill out into his waiting hands.

"No bra? Naughty girl." He tugs on your nipple, making you jerk back against his chest. He cages you against himself and the still-running bike.

"What if someone sees?" You ask him with a slight worry, though you do nothing to stop him.

"You think too much," he says, rubbing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "But you really have to hurry if you want to cum before the others arrive."

"Oh god!" You close your eyes from the sensation and the reminder at the same time.

"So come on," he says, leaving your chest to grab your skirt. Your face contorts into a grimace at the loss of his touch. "Sure you don't want them to see you like this."

"Please," you breathe. Your hips grind against the leather seat, searching for the constant vibration on your throbbing center.

His touch and his words lit something in your belly, something demanding and burning.

"Oh, look at that," he coos. He pulls up your skirt until the gathered fabric rests at the base of your thighs. His hands smooth up and down on your flesh hugging his bike. "Fuck," Rip grunts. "If I would have known your legs would look this good around my bike, I would have made you sit on it all the time."

"Rip," you gasp his name. "Hurry!"

He laughs, letting his hard dick grind against the small of your back through his jeans from behind. "Why, sweetheart? You don't want my friends to see you like this? Tits out, legs spread open? Your panties are drenched." His fingertip grazes over the wet spot, making your muscles twitch at the cruel teasing. "I bet my seat is wet, too."

Embarrassment and arousal burn your cheeks. He is probably right. "R-rip," you complain.

"As you wish, love," he says, pulling your panties aside with one hand. "Let me see that pretty cunt."

You lean against his chest, spreading your legs even more at the sides of his bike. Rip explores your folds, stroking over your soft flesh until he reaches your clit. He rolls slow circles on the sensitive bud, making you mewl with need. Your hips grind against his hand, demanding more friction while he hums and laughs at your despair.

"Fuck," Rip says. He lets go of your panties to put his hand back on your breast. He squeezes and gropes you to his heart's content until your back arches, and you press yourself even more into his large palm. "Look at you, my good girl, being an absolute slut on my bike." His words punch a cry out of your dry lips, and Rip's hips buck against your back. You are not the only one affected by his words. "Did you think about it before? Cumming on my bike? Grinding your wet pussy on it? Do you know a few of my friends will smell it? They will know what you did, sweetheart. They will know I had your pretty cunt soaking my seat."

"Rip," you gasp his name. "Don't-" You shake your head but say nothing else. His thick, gloved-covered fingers prod at your entrance, gathering your wetness to use it as a lube.

"Don't what?" He asks, chuckling. "Don't tell the truth? You don't want to hear how my friends know your scent? Why not? It's fucking delicious. I wish I could taste you."

His words send you spiraling. Your muscles are taut, and a thin layer of sweat glistens on your heated skin as you stare outside the garage door. The street is still empty, but you can't help but imagine his friends arriving while you are still on Rip's bike, exposed and at the edge of your orgasm. The thought terrifies and excites you at the same time.

"Fuck," he grunts. The dullahan doesn't waste more time. He pushes two of his fingers inside you. The rough texture of his glove rubs over your sensitive walls, stretching you in the process.

"Fuck," you agree. "Fuckfuckfuck. More. Please, Rip."

"So eager," he hums with satisfaction. "You can't wait to cum around my fingers, huh, sweetheart?"

You don't even bother with answering. You can only moan and groan as he pushes his finger deeper, prodding and stroking your tightening walls around his digits. His thumb is on your clit, rubbing over it the whole time.

"Cum around my fingers, love," he urges you. "Soak my gloves so I can smell your pussy every time I go for a ride."

Your blood burns in your veins as your walls flutter around his fingers. The heavy coil in your stomach gets tighter and tighter with each passing second.

"Maybe I shouldn't let you cum," the male behind you teases. "Maybe I should wait for the others so they can see you stuffed with my fingers. I bet Rust would die for your tits."

Of course, they are just words. He is much more possessive than letting anyone touch you or see you, but it has the desired effect on you. You grab onto his knees as your whole body spams, and you cry out his name repeatedly.

"Cum, Y/N," he commands impatiently. "Fuck, Y/N, soak my gloves, pretty girl."

Your pussy flutters and tightens around his fingers as you fall over the edge. Your vision gets blurry as you stare into the skull's empty eye sockets in front of you on the dashboard. You know it's just your imagination, but it grins back at you. Rip taps your clit several times, making your body stretch and arch. Your voice is high and hoarse as you moan. His name rolls off your tongue like a prayer.

When you slump back against Rip's chest with his arms keeping you on the seat securely, he hums and whispers into your ears the whole time. The eerie green mist lingering around his neck is cool and soothing on your sweaty skin.

"Good girl," he says. "So fucking pretty."

"Rip." You need several seconds to find your voice. "Maybe I should get my own bike."

The dullahan laughs. "We will see, love. You need much more lessons." The thought excites you, and he chuckles again with amusement. "Real lessons."

"I would like a pink one."

"Of course, love."

[a-boca-do-inferno]

blueberry (caesar x human!reader)

summary: Man is insecure and, perhaps not so surprisingly, so are apes.

warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

words: 3.6k

notes: can be read as a standalone or a continuation to alone. this is set somewhere between the events of wftpota but he is alive in my heart btw. enjoy x

gif credit

“I don’t care”, you sign and huff, glaring at him. You needed to hurt him; like he had hurt you just now. You point to the cave entrance. “Leave.” 

Caesar shoots you a desolated look, standing in the middle of the rain, completely soaked. He can’t speak. Not this time. He’d done it so many times before, repeating the same thing over and over again. I will change. I will stop worrying. I love you. And now you could see the truth: no matter how much he claimed to love you, his sorrows would always be stronger than his feelings and you just had enough. You were a tired woman. And he knew that, too. 

“Okay”, he mumbles at last with a brief sign as he watches his step and backs away. 

He leaves with his head down and disappears into the dark of the night. You’re only left with the sound of heavy drops smashing onto the floor. The ground now felt like opening up under your feet, but it wasn’t always like this. 

Caesar stared at you with widened eyes, not noticing your presence until you spoke up. A smile spread on his face and he shrugged off his worries, his frown fading gradually. “You… lifesaver.” He gesticulated toward the food you carried with a grateful look. It smelled so good and he didn’t hesitate to grab the bowl of soup, sipping on it and letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank you... for everything”, he signed with his free hand after a moment.

“You’re welcome, now what do you want?” You teased and ruffled his head lightly. Caesar had become a good friend over the past few months. It felt like you’ve known each other for a long time, even before the flu. “Or were you just that hungry?”

Caesar snorted, still drinking the soup. “Both… I think.” He swallowed before adding hoarsely, “sometimes I just need… to see you.” It sounded like a lighthearted comment, but he wasn’t smiling because deep down he knew it was true. You made him feel like he never did with anyone, ape or otherwise. He recoiled in his spot, watching you with attentive eyes. 

And you, to your credit, chuckled quietly with pink cheeks, “well, here I am.” You sat in front of him and leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “You know, Caesar, I’ve been thinking… Maybe you should come stay with me for a while.” 

You were well aware of his problem with loneliness ever since he lost Cornelia and couldn’t help but want to take care of him. Being a leader had its perks and many included a deep sense of isolation, especially when the very lives of a whole species depended on him to make it in this world. Humans were still a constant threat, even amidst the downfall of civilization, but you reckoned Caesar felt lonely long before the apocalypse from the few stories he’d tell you about Will. If anything, being surrounded by his own kind only alienated him more overtime due to the burden of the “crown”.

Caesar tensed up, his eyebrows raising at the unexpected offer. He stayed unmoving for a few seconds, however his demeanor eventually changed into one of contemplation. Perhaps it wasn’t such a terrible idea at all. He’d been greatly feeling the change in environment since they moved and doing things alone had always proven to be harder for him, if more familiar. Taking another sip of his soup, his thoughtful gaze traveled the ceiling. 

“Sure… you wanna live… with my drama?” He finally asked, with an almost amused expression.

“We can be dramatic together”, came the quick reply, as you carried a playful tone of your own. “But really, I think it’ll do you some good. It’s not permanent, I just wanna help you get a little more time to adjust while you sort things out with the council.” You grinned softly, “change is always overwhelming and some company might broaden your horizons, maybe even help with your decision.”

Caesar pondered your words, still with a humorous smile. “I could stay… for a while.” He added with some emphasis. 

“It’s settled then, you can move in anytime you want”, you stood up and patted his shoulder. As you noticed there was a hint of uneasiness lingering in his eyes, you hummed, “consider it my formal thanks to you for taking me in. Now we’re even.”

“Then I move in… tonight.”, he tried to play it off with humor, signing with a smirk. “Don’t like my place… anyways.”

In fact, deep down Caesar was glad to get away from there; especially because he was about to face the most challenging phase of leadership: letting go. By the end of the day, he was all settled into your home. He took your bed under your indignant protests that the floor was a “back killer”, in your own words. You had a way of making him sustain a smile for far longer than he was used to—which wasn’t often—and that was the sole reason for his compliance. 

As you were fluffing the makeshift pillows made out of animal skin, he organized his stuff in the small cabinet you made yourself. You were a handy carpenter. A quiet chuckle reached his ears and he shot you a glance. 

“I didn’t take you for the messy type, I thought all leaders were neat.”

Caesar rolled his eyes, closing the cabinet door. “I only clean… other people’s messes”, he signed with a wry smile. He turned around and leaned against the wall to face you properly, his grin fading into a sterner look. “I’m glad… you’re here.”

“And I’m glad you’re here with me, that way I don’t have to worry about your insomniac ass wandering in the cold”, you threw a stick at him, sitting on the bed with a small beam. “I really do worry and care for you, Caesar. I hope you know that.”

Caesar caught the stick with ease and met your gaze with warm eyes once again. He was clearly touched by your words and his shy grin turned into a real one, despite the tiredness on his features. He came over to sit beside you, much closer than before. 

“I know”, he replied huskily, gently caressing the nape of your neck with his thumb. “And I hope you know… I care about you.” You shivered under his touch and your lips reached for his rough palm as you kissed it. His breath hitched at the sensation of your smooth skin and he touched your foreheads, shutting his eyes.

It was now but a distant, bittersweet memory haunting you while you gathered your things and left your tent-like home with him, preparing to move in with Maurice. You had a close bond with the ginger ape due to his calmer nature; sometimes you even assisted in his classes, too, and he knew better than anyone about the shortcomings of your relationship with Caesar. This time was no different and he offered you shelter right away. He had always been supportive of you two, but never judging when you had a falling out with the boss.

Maurice knew better than anyone as Caesar got older, his stubbornness and overprotective nature only got bigger. You left out a humourless laugh, walking into your new home. Man is insecure and perhaps not so surprisingly, so are apes. And with insecurity comes obsession, along with an unhealthy need for control. Yet you always had too much understanding in your heart. Caesar just needed help, you thought, as you would peck his head whilst he slept soundly on your lap. It was so rare to see him that serene, and you cherished every second of it. 

He still had trouble sleeping; nightmares and such. Your heart ached with the ever present reminder that you just couldn’t make all his pain go away forever, no matter how hard you tried. And God, did you try. Rocking a grown chimpanzee’s body to make him go to sleep wasn’t exactly in your plans when he brought you into the colony, but you gladly took the task. You loved the guy, after all. 

And wouldn’t it be stupid to even doubt that? Still, that’s what Caesar did on occasion. He wasn’t easily upset, but when he was... It often got ugly. You were never a fearful girl, but seeing his angry fits deeply affected you. Soon talking to him became a constant walk on eggshells and if he noticed your change in behavior, he never really spoke on it, which was perhaps his biggest flaw; not communicating. But he was a leader, and a perceptive one at that. Even though he never said it out loud, it must have been clear that you couldn’t take it anymore. There was something telling about the way he simply let you go a few hours before, with no fight. 

“Comfortable?” Maurice eyes you carefully, bringing some blueberries with him to cheer you up. 

You can’t help but grin at the sight. “I am. Thank you.” You sign back and nod, taking a deep breath as you gaze around. “Caesar?” You hum, curious of where he might be. You hadn’t seen him since last night’s argument.

The orangutan shakes his head slowly, pointing at the forest, “he hunts… when angry.”

You snort. “Sounds about right.”

Maurice grunts in agreement, signing softly, “you two… end?”

You take a moment to consider his question. It looked like a break up, didn’t it? Although you weren’t sure if apes even used the concept of “breaking up” with their mates. Every couple you knew in the colony seemed happy together. No trouble in paradise. You shrug and look down. “Maybe.”

“Caesar is… difficult”, he rasps, causing you to smile despite yourself. That’s the understatement of the year. The ape adds, “you like blueberries… for a reason. They’re not… always sweet.”

You scoff at the comparison. No wonder Maurice was a great teacher. You sign with amusement, “except I can smash a blueberry if I don’t like it, but with Caesar, I can’t.”

Maurice laughs deeply. “Fair enough.”

As the night fell again, you watched the apes gather around the fire to hang out after another tranquil day from a distance. Since the war, things were slowly returning to normal and you felt a mixture of relief and anxiety every time the thought crossed your mind; growing accustomed to peace those days was dangerous. Hope could be a friend, but also a great enemy in the apocalypse. Caesar had taught you that through your many late night talks after you made love. A light blush came across your cheeks as you sighed and tried to shake off those memories. 

Dating another species was already a challenge on its own, now add being the leader of a colony on top of that, you were surprised you two had made it that far. When Caesar found you all alone hiding in a cave, struggling to survive on your own, never in a million years did you think that creature would become your closest friend and even lover. He didn’t like or didn’t see the point of those nomenclatures, sure, as he only ever referred to you as his family. If other apes outside Maurice and Blue Eyes knew about the implications of it, though, no one dared speak on it. Yet it didn’t make it any easier to digest whenever you stopped to think about it, even more so amidst his angry fits.

You finished preparing for bed and lay down in silence, staring at the stars. Another summer had begun with the difference of Caesar’s absence by your side as you tried to sleep. You took a deep breath and wiped away some stubborn tears, turning to face the wall. You closed your eyes for a brief second and when you opened them again, a large silhouette appeared on the stone surface and you slowly shifted back to find Caesar standing tall, eyeing you silently.

“Talk?” He signs hesitantly, his expression difficult to read in the dark. You only nod and he approaches you, and as he steps in an angle under the moonlight, you see he’s got a deep cut across his abdomen. You immediately sit up, looking alert. He smiles weakly and waves a dismissive hand, taking a seat beside you. “It’s… fine. Not… serious.”

You frown nevertheless, tracing his bruise and inspecting it. “What happened?”

“Bear.” He murmurs hoarsely, with an amused gleam in his green eyes. You grunt in displeasure and he asks with an almost mocking tone, “worry?”

“Of course I do, Caesar.” You huff indignantly and it only makes him smirk, but you keep glaring at him. “You think it’s funny?”

“Yes”, he says, reaching you to take your hand over his furry stomach. He comes closer, bringing his forehead to yours, “I’m… sorry.” You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’re not sure what to say, but he fills in the silence with a low sound, “miss… you.”

“You’re a stubborn old man”, you pull away to look him in the eye, albeit your voice stays tender. He looks humoured by your choice of words. “But I missed you too.”

Caesar’s expression softens significatively. He produces another coo, “forgive?”

You smile and bring his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles. “Maybe.”

“Brought… present.” He rumbles after a moment and you watch him leave in silence, coming back shortly with a bowl full of blueberries. You grin and Caesar hoots quietly, feeding one to you. You blush and accept the gesture, causing him to nuzzle your face gently, “Maurice… advice.”

You roll your eyes. “That turncoat.” 

Caesar only snickers and shrugs, making a face as he tries a blueberry. He signs and pushes the bowl towards you, shaking his head in comic disapproval, “sour.”

It’s your turn to laugh.

[prolix-yuy]

Olive Branch

Pairing: Francisco Morales x F!Reader

Summary: If Frankie doesn't like olives, then what does he like?

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: T, alcohol consumption, mention of drug use, incredibly tame for me, hints of spice. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: I was challenged by @happypedrohours to write a story involving Frankie and olives, and what do you know, these are two of my favorite things! I was snickering to myself the entire time as the olive metaphor rolled out, but what the hell, we're gonna keep it in! Enjoy my friends, and Happy Pedro Hours!

Cross-posted on AO3

When it slides in front of you, you know it’s a good one. You watched the bartender make one at the end of the bar and it was just how you like it. Dry, cold, three olives on a hardy metal toothpick. You were practically salivating by the time you ordered your own and it slid in front of you, shining like the Holy Grail.

“Didn’t know you liked martinis.”

Head whipping around, you stutter out a laugh as Frankie slides in next to you. He perches an elbow on the bar, free shoulder coming close as the crowd tucks you into each other. Your eyes dart to his crinkled brown ones, then to your drink, and back again to distract from the proximity. His hand is tucked into his faded jeans, but it wouldn’t take much to cup your elbow or wrap around your waist. 

“On special occasions,” you quip, tossing your head at Will and Tatiana surrounded by your friends. She’s showing the girls the ring, the men clapping hands on Will’s back and making him laugh. The air holds the fresh taste of new beginnings.

“Never had much of a taste for ‘em. Just gasoline in a glass,” he replies. Your face must be ten levels of indigent with how quickly his eyebrows shoot up.

“Do I look like a car to you?” 

Frankie’s eyes twinkle, and it flips your stomach.

“Definitely a hot rod.”

You laugh it off, rolling your eyes. He’s never serious, after all. He likes to ply you with compliments just short of flirty and leave you high and dry at the end of the night. The first time it stung so hard you didn’t go out with the boys for weeks. 

“He’s just a little fucked in the head, don’t take it too personal,” Santi told you when he finally wrestled the reason for your absence out. “Can’t stop chasing anything messy with two legs. Last girlfriend was a cokehead, even worse before that. He likes ‘em pretty and crazy, and he bags ‘em left and right. They always leave him worse for wear.” Santi’s eyes narrowed over his knowing smirk. “So now you like him?”

“Fuck no,” you spat out, arms folded tight. “I don’t deal with boys who play games.”

Yet here you are, again, with Frankie, ready to roll the dice yet again. At least he doesn’t know you’ve still got a soft spot for him ready to land.

“I’ll ignore the fact that you called Hendricks gasoline,” you scold, sliding your gleaming prize closer on its soggy black napkin. “There’s also vermouth, and olives.” You take a sip, the warmth of the gin and sharp salt of the charcuterie mainstay sweeping across your tongue. Frankie’s eyes drifting down to your lips on the rim of the glass.

What a cocktease. At least most men who eyefuck you actually follow through.

“Shaken, not stirred?” he quips in a rough approximation of a Scottish accent. You snort, instantly regretting it as the burn of brine and alcohol decimates your sense of smell. Trying to hide it under a tiny cough, Frankie’s face turns to the bar.

“Not much of an olive guy either, so you're 0 for 3 on convincing me.” 

You don’t know why, but your stomach sinks briefly as you gingerly twist the glass stem between your fingers. 

“Perfect, more for me then,” you shoot back brightly, but he looks back a fraction too soon before the disappointment flits away. 

“C’mon, you know you were never gonna change my mind,” he teases, jostling you with his shoulder as he motions for the bartender. 

“Never said I was,” you add absentmindedly. 

Frankie will never be an option. He’s made it clear time and time again that he doesn’t choose you. But sometimes, when you let your mind drift, you think about how it could happen. Some dark room where he finally finds something he’s been looking for. The brushing of noses and near-misses before one of you finally acts and you’d know what his lips feel like. Then he would lick into your mouth and his flavor would dance with acidity and botanicals on your tongue and he’d moan at how good you taste.

But he doesn’t even like olives. Or you.

Frankie’s drink is a golden lager, malt rising to your nose. You like beer too. You like a lot of things. You could sit at this bar and talk about your favorite drinks for hours. You’re not just the martini girl. You’re so much more. 

You need some air. Your daydreams are getting in the way of enjoying the night and Frankie’s none the wiser, so best keep it that way.

“I’m gonna bring my gasoline olives back to the party,” you say, ducking out from Frankie’s body without waiting for a reply. Maybe catching a glimpse of surprise, you strut back to the girls. The warmth of their excitement and enthusiasm reinvigorate your tight throat. 

Your drink dwindles slowly, savoring the clean flavor and crushing the olives one by one between your teeth. One of the girls tries the dregs of your glass and wants one of her own, so you weave back to the bar so you can help her order. A holler rises from the boys around Will, and when you look you catch Frankie’s face again. He’s all beaming smiles, eyes barely visible from behind his crows feet and gleaming teeth. He catches your eye and his smile softens, and over the din of the bar he mouths “you good?”

You nod. Of course you are. What would Frankie know about that?

The drinks come, followed by cheers and hums of contentment. You will definitely be tipping well tonight. Before you can make it back to the group Benny cuts off your path, swooping one arm behind your back and your free hand into his. 

“No no no, Benny, I’ll spill!” you shriek, feeling the telltale wetness of a sloshed drink over your fingers. “Shit, I think I got it on the back of your shirt…”

“Ah, I’ve had worse,” Benny says, mock-dancing with you to the barely audible music. 

“How’s Will?” you ask, leaning over his shoulder to snag a healthy sip of the martini. Now a more manageable level, you let Benny lead you away from the bar.

“So in love it makes me sick.” You raise an eyebrow. “In a good way!” he adds, turning you so the man in question is visible. Tatiana’s tucked under his arm, and his mouth drifts to kiss the top of her head.

“You know what, I get it,” you agree, the both of you snickering as the tempo of the music changes. It might be a Hozier song? It’s hard to tell over the babble of voices.

“How are you?” he asks, feigned innocence a red flag flicked in front of your eyes.

“Peachy. Why?”

Benny’s hand squeezes yours in a soothing rhythm.

“Hey, don’t bite my head off. Fish mentioned you seemed down. Something about olives?”

The flash of heat rocketing to your face has to be combatted, so you choose comedy.

“Oh yeah, the fact that they never give me enough in my damn drink. Could drive a woman to tears!” Your put-on mid-atlantic accent doesn’t sell it. Benny chews on the inside of his cheek before leaning to bring his mouth to your ear.

“I know you’re gonna tell me to fuck off…”

“Then you don’t have to say anything.”

“...but you and I both know this ain’t about olives.”

You lean back, jaw set and eyes cool.

“You’re right. It’s about absolutely nothing.”

“Hey…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Benny lets go and you down the rest of your drink. It burns and you hate yourself for it, but it feels good to let liquid frustration carve through the center of you. 

“It’s late, and bar snacks aren’t gonna soak up the hangover I’ll have tomorrow. I’m gonna say bye to Will and Tatiana, get a cheeseburger, and go home.” Benny puts his hands on his hips, blue eyes filled with a brotherly care you know better than to try and tamp down.

“And it’s not about olives?”

Plucking the toothpick full of metaphor out of the glass, you point it at him.

“It’s not about olives.”

Benny relents, and walks you over to the happy couple. Promises of more drinks and a bachelorette party are half shouted before you pick through the crowd and exit the front of the bar. 

The air is just starting to get cool, alcohol thrumming in your blood. You love the way a martini buzz feels, your mind crystal and your body sharp as glass. It’s different from the smoky haze of scotch or the sluggish thudding of beer. Martinis make you diamond.

Which is why you notice Frankie immediately upon his exit, even though you can tell he wanted to go unseen for a few moments longer. He fumbles his hands into his pockets, ambling up to stand beside you while you glare at the Uber app.

“Got a ride coming?” 

“Eventually.”

He nods and stares at the toes of his boots, which you observe surreptitiously. The progress bar keeps filling and emptying as the silence stretches. 

“I’m sorry for shitting on your drink.”

You can’t help but snap your face to him, eyebrows raised.

“I sure hope you didn’t shit on my drink.”

The poor choice of words quirks the corner of your mouth as Frankie tries to recover.

“Jesus Christ, I mean…you know what I mean! I didn’t mean to be a dick,” he says, now contemplating the sky with resignation. There's still a fight in you, but you try to meet halfway.

“S’all good, I shit on your terrible beers all the time. We’re even.” You glance back at the app and shut it out of frustration. You’ll try again in a minute. 

“I don’t hate olives, either,” he rushes out. You roll your eyes, shoulders slumping. God, could they just let this go? You’re embarrassed enough about it. Before you can make another joke, another deflection, he barrels on.

“To be honest, I’ve never tried…olives. I see them all the time - at parties, at the bar, at friend’s houses - and there always seems to be some reason not to try them. I’m always having something else, or just had something, and I don’t want to…I’m afraid if I try the olives, I’ll really like them. And I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens. And that’s been scaring me off from even trying.” 

Frankie looks up at you, mouth parted and brow furrowed, as realization rises slow and fizzy.

“Because I think I could really, really like them. Enough that I’d want them all the time. But I’ve never had anything like that before. And I don’t want to hurt the…olives.”

Your heart is thudding in your ears, lower lip close to a betraying tremble before you force it between your teeth..

“You don’t want to hurt…the olives,” you parrot back and Frankie sighs, lifting his cap enough to rake his fingers through his hair before resettling it. 

“Fuck it, you know what I mean, right? It’s not about…it’s not about the fucking olives,” he says, and one of his hands wraps around your shoulder. It’s hot and strong and your chest swells at the touch.

“If it’s not about the olives,” you say, tentative, voice dropping into a lower register. He’s closer, almost as close as in the bar, thumb worrying back and forth over your shirt. “Then why don’t you show me what it is about?”

You expected more hesitation, but with that permission he lunges for you, cupping your face with both hands as he crashes your lips together. It’s fast and messy, teeth pressed against your lips and his tongue slipping in to taste. He groans and your knees go weak, head spinning worse than any drink could hope to do. You clutch the lapels of his canvas jacket and pull him closer, sweeping strokes of your kiss filling your mouth with bitter hops. With a lurch he pulls back.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles against your lips, but he continues to clutch at you, arm banding around your waist to keep you snug against him. 

“For what?” you tease, sliding your nose along his proud profile. 

“Takin’ so fuckin’ long.” His teeth graze your jaw lightly, heat pooling in a place that’s demanding a more private location for proper penance.

“I think you owe me a lot more than one very good kiss, after everything you’ve put me through,” you contemplate, his grip tightening. 

“Still waiting for your ride?”

Your fingers wander to the nape of his neck, and his curls are just as soft as you imagined.

“No.”

A gentler kiss follows, broader, somehow still able to make your head spin.

“Good, you’re coming home with me so I can properly apologize.”

The next morning as Frankie opens his front door for his breakfast delivery, he finds a pristine jar of olives resting on his welcome mat. The scrawled note - better start getting a taste for these! - is clearly in Benny’s handwriting. The memory of your body, soft and sleeping in his bed, pulls him back inside. 

After everything that got him here, he could learn to like olives.

END

"This is where righteousness ends It’s a relief to wave this overdue white flag and My blind spots have tortured you enough How much salt could I pour in To think that I called myself a friend."

Alanis Morissette, Olive Branch

[whereisloe]

Tough

“Like a .38 made out of brass” ꗥ arthur morgan x fem reader

a lil dutch x reader action cuz i’m just that girl - warnings n/a

𓆝. 𓆟

“You have my condolences for your father. He was a very valuable man” You watched Angelo Bronte carefully from your black fan that covered half of your veiled face. You had to really sell this mourning look if you wanted to fool such a powerful man so, that you did. Getting all dressed up in your black attire everything matching from the black, layered ruffles of your petticoat to the lacy parcel carried by your escort. “Because of his loyalty, I will extend my offer of protection onto you so as long as we still do business together, hm?” He took a sip of his glass before leaning back onto his loveseat with his legs crossed.

“I thank you, truly, Mr. Bronte. But, the extra protection won’t be necessary. We’ve got our own guns for hire on our land” You maintained a harsh stare onto the man across from you as he savored another sip from his wine glass. He laughed amused with your simple answer before tipping his glass to you. “Ha, your father says the same thing. Like daughter, like father then”

“Mr. Bronte, I am no fool to business. With all due respect, I did not come here to reminisce nor, have you invited me here to, no?” Bronte gazed up at you from across the table. Eyes narrowed and unreadable as though he couldn’t figure what to think of you. “You are a very…smart girl” You felt your mouth twitch as he continued his speech. You couldn’t stand the man’s voice, how degrading his words were as you feigned oblivion to obvious exploitations that were about to leave his mouth. “Your father received 10% of all government related endeavors. Whether it was busting criminals or busting vaults, didn’t matter to me just so long as I got 20% of his business.” He paused as he licked at his lips. “Your father did not remain in good standing with me for the money. Instead, he wanted security. Security, that nothing would happen to him or his precious daughter while he worked with me, and security I provided” This man reeked on lies, your father had been shot doing a job for this man but only after he demanded a raise in his cut.

“I can assure you I am not my father. I am here for money, security is something I may provide myself” You gestured over at the guns you hired not too long ago before this meeting. “Daddy was never too smart when it came to funds. Thinkin’ our oil plant would be enough with no back up money to lean on” You lightly began to fan your face as you felt yourself get worked up. “Then we was robbed, Daddy may have turned a blind eye to it but, I ain’t one to show weakness”

“I take it you want my help with this” He gestured to the air before pulling a cigar from a tray. “this show of strength” You nodded and carried on with your story.

“Those boys you’re in good spirit with robbed us good and as a long devotee to your cause, Mr. Bronte, I don’t take too kindly to it”

“My dear, as much as I appreciate your kindest regards, you must understand this business. If I was worried about my clients opinions of one another I’d be the poorest man in Saint Denis. The most I can do is keep them out of your business but, they’re fickle men…not to be trusted” He blew the the smoke of his cigar off to the side as your foot tapped rapidly. You were ready to lay your cards out, prove a point that your father raised woman fairly gifted in her trade. “I completely understand, I just request that I may also be in kahoots with these outlaws”

“Why? So you can get them arrested?”

“Precisely, Mr. Bronte. Of course, on your word. But, if I get in good standin’ with the law they’ll send some men over to the plant. That way we produced more, with less risk” Your foot halted its tapping pausing as the man in front of you thought carefully of your words. On paper, the plan was foolproof and a win-win. “So, whaduya think?” You attempted to expedite the man’s response but was only met with another deafening silence.

“I think I’ve been doing business with the wrong (l/n)” Angelo stood from the loveseat before offering you a hand to follow. You smiled, accomplished with the reaction you received before resting your freehand in his. “I must ask one favor of you, though” You nodded before lifting yourself from the seat. “I need you to host one of my official parties. To test if these men can be trusted, I’ll give subtle hints about your booming business.”

“Are ya fixin’ these men to rob me?”

“I’m fixing you an opportunity to meet these men…” He took your silence as compliance before continuing on. “The plan is, you catch these rats red handed and negotiate, later you tell me if they’re treacherous. If not then I’ll set up a meeting for you and the boss.” He scoffed at word as though he was amused by the thought of it. “And do not worry, I’ll have men everywhere for this event”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Bronte” You both shook on it before he walked you up to the front gate. The sun beamed down on you the second your foot met with the cobbled path of the front patio. Your escort was quick to your side with your parasol before you could even muster the words to complain. “The details will be delivered shortly, a presto, miss”

Today was the day.

You could finally put the face to the name that robbed you. Van der Linde Gang. You sighed at the name, as you fixed the headdress adorning your maintained curls. You still kept your attire relatively dark as your father’s death was still fresh in the press. All you had to do was briefly preside over the party from your balcony, allowing Bronte enough time to present you to his friends new and old. Maybe you’d commute down to your gardens to briefly acquaint yourself with your guests.

“Are you ready, Miss” Your maid questioned from your balcony doors. You adjusted yourself one last time before standing from your seat. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose” You promenaded your way towards the doors as your maid rushed behind you as to raise the dragging silks of your skirt just enough to hover the dirty concrete of the balcony but not enough to reveal your petticoat or bustle. You stood straight presiding over all your guests that took it upon themselves to socialize. None of these men meant anything to you except two.

You noticed Bronte with two men, who cleaned up well considering their circumstance, as they prattled on about god knows what. That was until one of seemed to motion up to you.

Nice shaven beard, tall and broad, with a subtle slick to his hair. None of these men would be able to tell but, you’d been admiring the man from afar staring down at him with shameless eyes. “Miss, your stares could be noticed as rude” Your maid whispered to you having you straighten yourself out before giving the man one last glance. Now, the other one had looked up at you but only briefly. He wasn’t too bad himself.

Perhaps, you wouldn’t mind going downstairs and acquainting yourself.

“My goodness” You spoke breathlessly to your maid. “Aren’t they some neat lookin’ fellas?” She hid her smile as she giggled at your unserious behavior.

“They are quite the sight—”

“Ohh, I bet you were lookin’ at the boss, Mr. Van der linde, hisself, huh?” You waved for the older lady to follow you inside as you teased her with your antics. “Well” She began while she laid the train of your dress neatly against the wooden boards fixing the bunched up silks that rested on your bust, “I won’t deny such a thing” the maid smiled softly as you laughed, briefly allowing yourself to calm down.

“Shall we get acquainted with them?” You turned to your maid, fixing her cascading curls as you waltzed past her. “C’mon, this is excitin” By the time you and your maid made it down stairs you could practically feel your heart beating out your chest. You hadn’t the slightlest clue why you were so nervous like some young faced girl talking to a boy for the first time. “Goodness, I’m nervous” You turned to your maid with a hand resting on your cheek.

“It’ll alright, miss. Just remember, you’re here for business negotiations not suitors” She chimed amused with your rather inappropriate reaction. You laughed to yourself as her words hit you. “I’m actin’ ridiculous…alright, cmon”

“Ah, There she is, the woman of the hour” Bronte was quick to call as you approached the men now facing you. You felt your nerves burning you up inside as you grabbed Bronte’s forearm and greeted him with il bacetto, an Italian courtesy you’d learn amongst the time you’ve spent with Bronte. Once you pulled back your attention was instantly on this so called boss standing off to the right of Bronte.

“Missus (l/n)” The man held out his hand as his eyes never left yours. You smiled, masking the slight in embarrassment you felt as you corrected him. “Miss, is just fine.” You placed your hand in his allowing him to kiss your knuckles. Amongst all the intense eye contact, you would think with how you felt moments ago, you’d be a flustered mess just right about now. But, your gut was telling you something serious was up about this man. You’ve been played a fool by many before, and you’ve caught almost just as many amidst their schemes. That glint in his eye, even the courteous gesture was a warning. This man was plotting and it all began with buttering you up.

Subtly, you recalled your hand before carrying on conversation. “I take it, you’re the one that runs things. Mr. Van der Linde, if I’m not mistaken”

“You wouldn’t be, miss. And here my…consort, Mr. Morgan” You noticed the slight pause in his speech before motioning over to the other man. Your head was quick to turn as you stared over at him. Eyes widening as you noticed his attractive features now closely. You smiled and nodded as a greeting to the man. “Ma’am” He returned your gesture with his slight acknowledgment. Couldn’t really hear it in the boss’s voice but, with Mr. Morgan’s you’d instantly picked up on the western candence.

“You don’t sound local, Mr. Morgan. You all from the west, I take it?”

“We’re from all over, Ma’am” He was short with you and rather mysterious, more than likely to hide his western drawl. But, they’ve got something greater to hide, you could feel it. “Mr. Bronte, may I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything, dear” He took a huff of his cigar before you suspiciously looked around for any ‘peering eyes’. “I’ve got the money but, there’s been talk of some group of boys runnin’ around robbing folk—You boys wouldn’t know anything of them, no?”

“No, we certainly do not. Saint Denis is new to us as well as its crime” Van der Linde was quick to respond. You nodded and grabbed his hand with a feigned concern and furrowed brows. “You all stay careful out there. They’re robbin’ houses and coaches from what I’ve heard. I could lend you both a couple of escorts, tonight as well”

“We appreciate the concern but, we’ve got ourselves handled” He reassured with a palm covering your hand.

“Alright, alright” You turned your attention back to Bronte. “The money’s in Daddy’s old office, I a-ain’t know what to do with it—”

“Calm down, the money will be fine. Go on, enjoy yourself.” Bronte played along with your little performance you put on. “What should I do with it? I ain’t never ran a business before.” Bronte tutted his tongue before leading you further into the gardens where all the officials rendezvoused.

“We’ll be back, boys. Help yourselves to some drinks while you’re here” Bronte spoke back to the men as the both of you, alongside your maid, disappeared in the crowd.

“Go find out where that money’s at, Arthur” Dutch wasted no time before turning to Arthur and bringing his voice down to a whisper. Arthur looked over toward him with a practical disbelief.

“Jesus, you ain’t serious? The girl’s daddy just died, now we’re robbing her of her own inheritance”

“Her daddy just died. Meaning that other people are gonna to rob her and, I’m not too sure about you but, I’d rather it be us that gets that money” His voice stained against the low volume he attempted to maintain before lighting a cigar. “I need you to trust me, Morgan, now…” Dutch backed away before tipping his hat to the man. Arthur sighed and made his way inside where the more quiet and intimate conversations took place.

By the time, Mr. Morgan had snuck his way upstairs you’d already been sitting in your father’s office chair shotgun light in your grasp. You had snuck your way around toward the back entrance of your estate which led straight up into the room. You double check the chamber making sure that you were sure to shoot if needed. Growing anxious with nothing but the drowned out voices from outside to distract you, you placed a cigarette to your lips before striking a lonesome match against the underside of your heel.

You’d get through half your cigarette before the soften floorboards creaked from the other side of the door. Quickly, you smothered the stick with the ashes of previous cigarettes your father burned through.

The door crept open and you were slowly met with the deadly end of a revolver and soon after an arm. “I’d put that down if I were you, Mr. Morgan” You stared down the barrel of your shot gun as the man slowly crept from behind the door. “Nobody has to get shot, I’m here to negotiate. Come sit with me, Mr. Morgan”

“Arthur.” He said curtly, clearly fed up with this whole event. He slowly holstered his weapon before seating himself in the chair sat on the opposite side of your desk.

“Arthur Morgan” You let his name slip your lips as you tested it. “You’re quite notorious, you know that?” You spoke clearly and watched him with your gun pointed toward him as you figured him out. “I’ve got family, down in Blackwater, sir. Say, they know all about you.”

“Do they now?” You nodded, slowly as your heel tapped against the wood. “What exactly are ya lookin’ to negotiate, Miss”

“I want to hire your gang as some guns and in turn I’ll keep this and your relation to the Blackwater massacre secret. And, if things play out as I’ve planned, I could probably get those Pinkertons off ya, for a moment anyway” You leaned back into the leather chair before setting your gun off to the side. “I’m tired of listenin’ to these men talk, empty promises followed by another all they is. Leviticus Cornwall for one, Angelo Bronte for another”

“Don’t you have your own men to escort you, why us?” Arthur questioned before leaning back as well, in his wooden seat legs spread and arms crossed. “I ain’t hirin’ y’all on a babysitting job. I need money, gold. I’d be sending y’all on robberies, I need experienced men not no, rich cat on a high horse” You licked your lips before getting desperate. “I’m tryna to buy off an oil plant from Cornwall but, I can’t do that without Bronte keeping the police distracted off of my daddy’s debts. With my daddy dead and me being a woman, my percentages have taken a hit. I can’t pay ‘em both”

“You sure are in a situation—”

“So are you. You need Bronte to trust you and the Pinkertons to fuck off. You need me.” You both stared at one another for a moment before letting your eyes soften. Even though, you’d been mid negotiation, you couldn’t help admiring his blue eyes, warmly lit from the lantern in front of you. God, what you would do just to be able to hold his face in your palms as your thumb rubbed the rosy blemishes of his cheeks.

“You ain’t wrong.”

“I know I ain’t. Now, would you escort me down to your boss, Mr. Arthur Morgan” You spoke sweetly before making your way over to his side and grabbing his arm. You would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second of holding this man. With your one hand wrapped around his elbow and the other gently gripping his bicep, you followed his lead as you both left the room. “You know, you had me fooled back there…playing all helpless” You looked up at the man with a curious gaze mostly because you hadn’t heard the first half of what he was saying to you. “That was a set up, right? There ain’t no money.” You shook your head and smiled up at the bachelor to keep up a friendly appearance as you passed up some guests of yours.

“Bronte wanted to see if y’all were worth trustin’. ‘S nice to know if you lot like robbin’ helpless women” You winked before laughing at the matter only to get a rather dry chuckle from Arthur in return. “It’s alright, I won’t tell a soul, I promise” You placed a reassuring hand to his chest before letting it fall once you both reached the garden. “You know, you’re a handsome fellow, Mr. Morgan. Are you married? I can’t imagine that bein’ easy being in a gang and all.” You started up some small talk as the two of you walked around in search of Dutch.

“I ain’t married, no”

“What about your boss?” You urged.

“Well, he ain’t neither. Got a woman, though…back at camp” They had a woman traveling with them? You held back questioning about her before carrying on. “I take it you don’t, then? No women waitin’ on ya at home?”

“Not in that sense, no” Arthur said plainly as he maneuvered the two of you through the crowd carefully accommodating for you. “Y’all got more women traveling with you boys?” Your eyes brighten with the assumption you made. He nodded and watched as your face lit up. “You should bring ‘em over if this conversation with Mr. Van der Linde goes over well” You spoke outwardly not even thinking about what context the two of you were in currently. “You’re quite odd, Miss” Arthur chuckled before waving Dutch over with his freehand.

“Arthur. Miss (l/n).” Dutch greeted the both of you before visibly growing curious of the atmosphere. Your smiled faded as you grew more serious with the other male.

“Mr. Van der Linde, how would you feel about bein’ business partners?”

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Benedict Bridgerton x pregnant wife!reader

A/N: I have received the following prompt: “Benedict Bridgerton with wife pregnant!reader. If any of Bridgerton's siblings had any problems, she was the first one they came to ask for advice even the oldest. All this attention was making Ben jealous as he was having less time with her. She told him that he would have to share her for the rest of his life before letting him know age was pregnant. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))” And I have tried to write it. It must be my first reader!insert romance story and it was so much fun. I hope you like what I have made of it. (~ 4650 words)

Benedict was grinning like a cheshire cat and you found it increasingly hard to refrain from tackling him to the ground to pepper his face with kisses. Expertly you were decorating his chestnut hair with flowers from the Bridgerton country home garden, the large rose bushes on either side of the alley leading up to the house shielding you from the sun. You were sitting in front of him cross-legged, the flowers gathered up in your lap. Benedict was facing you, his long legs stretched out in a way that his shins touched your hips. His hands were propped up in the grass behind his back and the sun was painting shimmering golden flecks on his head when the wind rustled through the leaves of the bushes.

Your husband looked deliciously delighted and nothing made you happier than seeing him that way. After one year of marital bliss, you’d decided to go to the country side with the rest of the Bridgerton family to spend the days in their presence and to enjoy the fresh air outside of London. A week before departing you had realized with heart-wrenching joy that your cycle was interrupted – you hadn’t bled when the time was due and had the very strong suspicion that a small version of yourself and Benedict was growing inside your belly. As nature sometimes tended to have its cruel way with humans, you had not yet mentioned it to your husband, fearing that the regular bleeding would merely commence one or two weeks late. But since your arrival, nothing had changed. The sheets remained unstained and your suspicion  transformed itself into something of a certainty. You tended to wake in the night and almost instinctively moved your hands to your belly, greeting the tiny human sprout with the warmth radiating from your palms. “Hello,” you’d started to whisper, “I hope it’s not too dark in there. Don’t worry, you are not alone.”

Now, as your husband was enjoying your melodic humming and the sweet smell of the flowers that caressed his hair, you felt inside of you a bubbling wish to lean forward and whisper the good news into his ear. The good news you’d barely managed to fully apprehend on your own. It was scary to reveal such a tender, fragile and unpredictable thing as a pregnancy. There was too much that could still go wrong, too much that still stood between you and the day of birth. Yet, looking at Benedict all calm and relaxed made you wish to comment on how you hoped your child’s eyes would be like his or how you could imagine him holding the small bundle to his chest, a little nose peeking out from white cloth.

You leaned over, closer towards him and moved your hand to the side of his face. His half-closed lids blinked open and his smile deepened when his gaze landed on your tender face.

“Am I positively in bloom now?”

You snickered and carefully brushed your fingertips over the petals behind his ear, making Benedict shiver ever so slightly. “Any young lady would envy you for such an exquisite coiffure!”

Narrowing his eyes, Benedict snarled at you, shaking his head and sending a few petals flying off onto the grass. “You’re lucky I had four younger sisters with a similar taste for dressing me up or I would have long taken off over the meadows!”

Biting your bottom lip to keep from grinning too widely, you got on your knees in one swift motion to wrap your arms around your husband’s shoulders, bringing you faces closer together. “You wouldn’t even have taken off if I had brought a pair of scissors with me to experiment on your hair!”

He chuckled gently and moved an arm over the small of your back to pull you even closer. “It can’t possibly be a good thing that you are correct about this!”

His lips found yours and you melted into the kiss as if the sun had suddenly gotten strong enough to evaporate you. Smoothly you moved your chest over his torso, your hands following the outlines of his shoulders. He hummed into your mouth, his voice vibrating through your skin as your fingers found his face, where your thumbs started caressing the slightest hint of a stubble.

“Benedict,” you sighed, your smile mirrored on his lips, “I have something to-“

“(Y/N)!!” A shrill voice shouted from the front steps of the big country house. You were so surprised, you almost choked, your forehead knocking against your husband’s. Benedict grabbed your elbows to keep you from falling over, one eye closed against the pain of head-to-head contact.

“Oww,” he groaned, looking over his shoulder with faint annoyance. Hyacinth’ voice was easily discernible and lately, she’d managed to interrupt quite a few of your… get togethers.

“(Y/N), are you in the garden?!”  

Raising one hand to your forehead, you couldn’t keep from letting out a breathless laugh. “Ten minutes of peace were quite the luxury, I daresay.”

Benedict let out a sigh, but pulled the corners of his lips up in a little smile, when he saw the humour in your eyes. “Sooner or later, I am going to grab her and lock her in the closet!”

Comfortingly, you patted his chest, before moving your hand to his hair to straighten one crooked daisy. “She’d probably find that rather amusing.”

“Are you sure? She is so very … fourteen now!” Benedict said, an overly accentuated speck of fear concerning teenage-girlhood glinting in his eyes. “When the day comes that we have a fourteen year old daughter, you must help me make sure I never become the object of her wrath!”

Holding your breath, you turned to look at him in awe. Did he know? Had he already figured it out all by himself that you were pregnant? But no, his eyes merely showed signs of good-tempered amusement. He had not yet a clue, which made his comment all the more valuable to you. “I love you,” you stated with feeling and crashed your lips to his in such a surprising manner, that he almost fell over, which laced your kiss with his sweetest chuckles. Moving your face away, you hesitated for a second, gazing in his shining blue eyes, unsure whether you should tell him immediately.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his eyes twitching curiously. You bit down on your lip, enchanted by the way he could almost read your mind. The good news about possible upcoming parenthood would have to wait though. You wanted to tell him, when it was only the two of you.

“Perfectly so,” you therefore exclaimed, before bringing your hands to his chest to push him over for good. Quickly you rose to your feet to answer to Hyacinth’ incessant shouting, laughing at Benedict’s attempts to grab for your heels in retaliation.

“I am here!!” You sang, taking your skirts in your hands to take a few running steps in her direction. She did the same, meeting you halfway and wrapping her arms around your middle, asking to be coddled, while she was going on and on about how she needed your help with this one French book she was reading. You walked back to the house with her, a smile on your features and your arms around her smaller body, as you indulged in the fantasy of her being your daughter and of you being the mother she’d asked for counsel. You looked over your shoulder and saw that Benedict was watching you two. You couldn’t help but wonder whether he was imagining the exact same thing as you.

--------------------------------

After two hours of translations and musings about the difficult French language, Benedict came barging into the study, looking at Hyacinth with a quarrelsome expression.

“Sister,” he growled in a rather menacing tone, “are you kidnapping my wife?”

Holding both your hands on the pages of the big book, you tilted your head in his direction with a meaningful grin. “Oh, you!”

But Hyacinth wasn’t the youngest Bridgerton for nothing. Defiantly she stood up from her chair and walked towards him in the middle of the room. “How dare you!! You didn’t even knock!!”

Benedict almost flinched, when she drilled an authoritative finger into his chest. With seven older siblings, there really wasn’t much that seemed to scare her. He opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately interrupted.

“I am in the midst of a very important lesson and I am fairly certain you still remember how to breathe without (Y/N)!! So!! Fare thee well!!”

It was incredibly hard for you not to burst into a small laughing fit with Benedict looking positively puzzled and his youngest sister intonating every single word as if there was an exclamation mark behind it. Yet, you managed to hide your smile behind your hand as you feigned a cough, which, judging by the way your husband looked at you, Benedict easily identified as an act. He narrowed his eyes and looked from you back to his sister who was still planted before him with a vigour unlike her size and age.

“Very well.” He eventually said; but it wasn’t without a lightness at the end of his phrase – one that was giving him away. Not only to you who had only known him for a short time compared to Hyacinth who had grown up with him. She gasped out “NO!” and wanted to take a step back, but Benedict had already grabbed her and thrown her over his shoulder.

“BENEDICT!!” She screeched, still sounding very childlike, despite wishing to appear much more adult at her tender age. “LET ME DOWN!!”

You looked on with a smile, chuckling at the way Benedict was trying to avoid kicking feet from hitting him in the face. “Do you really think you intimidate me, sister?”

Hyacinth’ squeals mixed with hysterical giggles, when Benedict managed to pin down the swinging legs and started tickling the backs of her knees and calves, her fists drumming against his back. “Dohohoohn’t!!” She giggled, all vigour gone from her sweet voice that sounded much more like the one of a child again.

“Will you release (Y/N) and continue your ‘very important lesson’ some other time?” He asked teasingly, a wide grin appearing on his features when Hyacinth’ mirthful sounds started resonating through the study.

“I WILL I WILL!!” She conceded hastily, her hands trying to grab the fabric of his waistcoat. “Don’t tickle!!”

With an approving noise, Benedict stilled his hands and bent over to plant his sister back on the floor. Groaning from the effort, he shook out his arms when he’d finally managed it. “You are getting too tall for this, aren’t you?” The seriousness in his voice combined with the way he cocked his head to the side in wonder had you throw your head back with a laugh.

Hyacinth put her hands on her hips and looked up at her brother with a pout. “I do definitely hope so!!” She sneered, before planting a fist in the crook of his stomach and quickly making her way to the door. A small smile was grazing her features, when she turned around again in the doorframe, directing her question to you. “We will continue our lessons, tomorrow, yes?”

“Of course, Hyacinth! We will make time for it!” You responded with a smile of your own, closing the book about French history and getting up from your chair to join your husband who was over-dramatically enacting an on-the-brink-of-death scene in the middle of the room, coughing and wrapping his arms around his middle.

“Internal bleeding! Internal bleeding!” He repeated hoarsely, making it impossible for Hyacinth not to break out into a laugh. “You’re so annoying!” She giggled, quickly bustling away, when he took a menacing step in her direction.

When the door fell close behind her, he dropped the act immediately and turned towards you with a sigh of relief. “Finally!”

You made a very undignified noise, when his hands grabbed for the fabric of your dress and pulled you towards him, your bodies colliding in an inelegant way, full of hunger and devotion. Giggling, you turned your head to the side, when his lips found your neck, kisses and nibbles sending ticklish jolts into your hairline. “Stop it! What are you doing?”

“It appears, I am overcome,” he mumbled into your skin, taking a deep breath from the sensitive skin under your ear, “by a very strong need to spend some… quality time alone with you!”

“Quality time?” Moving your hands up his back, you allowed him to lead you backwards into the study, your steps mirroring his own until you reached the table with the big French history book. Your eyelids fluttered shut at the warm touch of his lips to your cheeks.

“Mhhh,” he agreed, his nose circling your own and his lips grazing your mouth as he spoke, “the rare, special occasion is one I am very ambitious for!”

Smoothly, Benedict’s hands moved under your behind to lift you ever so slightly and place you on the table, the book shifting backwards, giving room to you. You moved your hands from his back to his cheeks, your hands cupping the face in front of you and holding it steady for the kiss you planted on its lips. Benedict smiled peacefully, his blue eyes sinking into yours. “I love my family dearly, dearly, dearly… but I need to have these moments with you alone, truly alone!”

The heart within your chest contracted for one beat, sending a slightly painful sting through your body. It was only a short moment, only one small hint of fear, but it sufficed to make you realize that you were scared Benedict might not actually be as thrilled as you were about the child blossoming in your belly. What if it was too early? What if Benedict still required, perhaps even hoped for some time without a family? What if he would be overwhelmed by a family that grew and grew and never seemed to allow you two any more time alone? You gulped and suddenly moved your hands back to his shoulders, holding on tightly.

Benedict seemed to notice that something was off, moving his head away from the side of your face to look you in the eyes. His gaze was soft and sweet and you wanted to drown in it, wanted to get lost in it as he moved his hands all over your body. But for now there was no more movement aside from his nose brushing against yours, a movement equal to a question.

“Are you alright?”

You realized you’d been holding your breath and took a deep one, before pushing your face into his as affectionately as you could. “I just want you,” you whispered, meaning it in every way possible, from head to toes, from now on to the end of your days, from his soul to his heart to every memory you’d make together. You wanted him. And every single part of him that grew through you. You could only hope that it would be the same way for him. “I want you so badly,” you continued, your voice almost hoarse from raw emotion which made his eyes flicker with a suddenly burning fire. Devotion radiated from his kiss adjoined to something that went deeper, something that was inexplicable and yet so strangely clear.

“You have me!” He growled into your neck, breathing your scent another time and kissing the vein running up your skin with an urgence. “You will have me! Entirely!”

You smiled against his cheek and moved your lips to his mouth to steal a kiss from its corner. That made him smile your favourite smile and suddenly you were lifted off of the table and carried towards the door. Moving your arms around his neck, you held on to him, running your eyes up and down his face to not miss a single sign of his happiness. You didn’t have to ask where he’d take you, knowing full well that he would tug you into the sheets of his bed, caressing your skin with his own and joining your bodies to become one. You wanted to be as close to him as possible, and afterwards you would tell him, afterwards you would try to find the right words and hope for a reaction that wouldn’t scare you. Right now, he was right, it would be just the two of you.

He opened the door… and ran into Anthony.

“Anthony!” He exclaimed in surprise, not yet considering to drop you which you found at the same time embarrassing and sweet. Trying to turn around in his embrace, you looked at Anthony over your shoulder, greeting him with a quite awkward “Hello!”

“Where have you two been, I was looking all over for you… wait, don’t answer that!” He waved his hand around in front of his chest, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly. “Though I do have to say, I’d like to know if the study should be er… cleaned!”

“Brother!!” Benedict groaned, his head dropping on your shoulder, the warmth from his reddened cheeks burning your skin.

Chuckling, you patted Benedict’s shoulder to signal you’d like to be let down. The muscles in his arms clenched from unwillingness, but he did indulge you and let you slide to a standing position.

You decided not to answer the last comment and simply tilted your head to the side expectantly, your unashamed smile making Anthony’s own grow. “What was it you needed from us?”

“Not I,” Anthony responded, his amusement at his brother’s unmistakable frustration quite obvious. “But our dear mother. She needs your opinions for the upcoming summer ball. Apparently Daphne and Kate would like you to join in on the preparations.”

Benedict groaned loudly. You tried not to send him a sympathetic glance and merely nodded at Anthony’s request, asking in return where you could find the other ladies.

“Don’t worry, brother!” Anthony consoled your husband, when you took his hand in a silent goodbye. “I’ll make sure no one bothers you after dinner. I know how hard it can be to find… some time alone.”

Benedict actually felt compelled to smile at his brother in gratitude, before sending you one more longing gaze. “I can’t wait.”

Then Anthony wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him in one direction and the preparations for the ball pulled you in the other. During the time it took to walk to the ladies of the house, you couldn’t stop worrying about what Benedict’s reaction would be once you told him of the pregnancy after dinner.

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Being at the table with the entire family always put Benedict into good spirits, no matter how much he’d longed for a moment alone with you throughout the day. He made faces at Daphne, poked Eloise into the side until she almost choked on a piece of bread, laughed at Colin’s jokes and exchanged warm glances with his mother. You were having lovely conversations with Kate and spoke some more to Hyacinth about her French. Everyone at the table tried to outdo Colin and his funny remarks, but no one quite was as good at it as he was and he seemed to be taking great pride in it.

Seeing Benedict interact with his family reassured you in a way you had not entirely realized you’d needed. Yes, you were both in great need of being close to each other in private. Yes, you were both enjoying it immensely, when no one interrupted your time together. But being at the table with everyone, conversing, joking, teasing and simply enjoying each other’s company was something Benedict would never have to ‘suffer’ through. Time spent with his family was time well spent and you could see in his face that he was more than content. e

It took away so much of the fear you’d felt throughout the day, the fear that he might not be happy about the news that you were with child. This was his world and he would be, you were very certain, delighted to have such a world of his own.

Kate and Anthony were the first to leave the table – in the dim candle light you couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like he was waggling his eyebrows at you – and after a while, you, Benedict, Daphne and Simon all decided to do the same, bidding your adieus from the family for the day and retiring to your chambers.

Benedict was in high spirits which was most likely due to the lovely evening and the prospect of finally being alone with you without fear of interruption. You suppressed a squeal, when he decided to chase you up the stairs, scooping you into his arms at the far end of the hallway that followed and banging open the door to your shared room with his shoulder. You giggled uncontrollably, when he kicked the door closed with his foot and practically ran towards the bed to throw you on the covers.

“I am going to jump out of the window if anyone dares interrupt us here and now!” He hissed humorously, taking off his waistcoat as quickly as he could and starting to work on his breeches.

Laughing cheerfully, you moved your hands in his direction, demanding him to get into the bed this instant. “Must you seriously be standing over there while getting undressed?”

“Where are my manners?” He gasped out in fake shock and all but dove into the sheets next to you, grabbing your waist and pulling you underneath him, drawing more silly laughter out from you when he pushed his face into the silk covering your belly. “Taking off clothes is almost as intrusive as my siblings! We will simply ignore them!!”

It was hard to speak through your laughter, but somehow you managed to grab a hold of his head and pulled it up towards you. “Ben, please, I must breathe! I must breathe!”

Grinning widely, he pushed his face against yours. “You should have to quit laughing for that first!”

It took a moment, but you did manage to calm your breathing, your arms wrapped around your husband who had his head propped up on one hand and was looking at you with a lazy smile. “Better?”

That almost made you burst out laughing again, but you managed to control yourself and instead grabbed him by the shoulders and changed positions, ending up on top of him. He huffed out in surprise, but his smile was big enough to light up the room, when he grabbed your thighs on either side of his hips.

“I feel deliciously trapped!”

“I have something to tell you!” You mused, searching for his hands with your own to interlock your fingers. Apparently you were in need of holding on to him while telling him what would come next. The pressure of his palms against your own quieted your mind and helped you focus on the matter at hand.

“Something you have to pin me down for?” He joked, his eyes widening with amusement. For you, his question brought back a small amount of dread and your smile fell ever so slightly.

“I… I hope not!” With hesitation you looked away, running your thumbs over his hands to calm yourself, while you were in search of what exactly to say. It would appear easy enough, declaring that one was pregnant, but, in truth, uttering the words was quite powerful and made the reality of the phrase stand out quite drastically.

“What is it?” Benedict asked, sitting up slightly and observing with a portion of concern the way you were biting the inside of your cheek. “(Y/N), is everything alright?”

You moved your eyes up, locking your gaze with his and taking a deep breath. It was all there, in his eyes: the love, the devotion, the care. He would be delighted. Yes, there was no other way…

“Ben, I know that sometimes it feels like we do not have a lot of time to ourselves.” He snorted in response to your words, underlining them with his reaction.

“The time I get to spend alone with you is a most cherished treasure.” You continued and slightly bucked your hips against his, making him chuckle softly. “Now, it is simply so…” You gulped and looked from left to right, before deciding to bring both of his hands to your belly. “It is so that… I am almost one hundred percent sure that I am…”

“YOU’RE PREGNANT!!!” Benedict shouted over your poor attempts of uttering the words you found so hard to actually say out loud and before you had a chance to asses the situation, you were pushed on your back, with your head by the foot of the bed and your husband fussing over you. His big hands were moving from your cheek to your belly to his head and back to your belly, all while he made noises of the purest and most natural delight you’d ever seen in a man.

“You’re pregnant!! You’re pregnant!!” He kept on repeating, his joy reverberating through every single nerve end on his body and conjoining with your own. All the insecurities of the day fell off your shoulders and the light weight that remained made your eyes water.

“Oh, my love,” you almost sobbed out, “I am so happy to see you react this way!”

“How could I not?” Benedict laughed with joy, cupping your face and kissing you and kissing you some more, small wet drops falling on your cheeks, when his emotions got the better of him. “We will be parents!” He choked out, before kissing you again and moving his hands to your belly again. “You are having a baby!” He uttered with teary eyes, sinking down on the level of your middle to place a thousand kisses on your gown. “A baby!!” He repeated again, before laughing incredulously.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him up and towards you. You needed to have him close as you buried your face in his shoulder and allowed tears of your own to run down your cheeks. “I love you!” You whispered with all your affection. “I love you and I love you and I love you!!”

More of Benedict’s tears fell on your face, when he moved himself up slightly, the salty traces mingling with your own. “My love,” he hummed softly, “you were worried, weren’t you? You were worried, it would make me fear for our alone time! Oh, (Y/N), I don’t fear that! I don’t fear a single thing when it comes to us!”

He buried his face in your neck to breathe you in, before looking at your belly again – it would become a recurrent thing in the following nine months, as your belly grew, he would look and look and look with all the adoration he was capable of. “I am beyond happy!”

“As am I!” You placed your hand over his own on your belly, as you were starting to realize the truth of this situation together, as you started to talk about names and traits, as you started to exchange assumptions and plans. It was exactly the way you’d hoped it would be.

A new chapter in your life began.

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings: mention of being depressed

Word Count: 1537 words

a/n: hello! welcome to the first chapter of my new story! I hope you enjoy it, and I would love your feedback especially when it comes to structure and flow of the story. I'm still getting the hang of tumblr again, so if you'd like to be a part of a taglist, please leave a comment under this post! :)

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Chapter 1

How did it end up like this?

This question never left your mind as you stared out at the forest trees in your backyard from your balcony, arms folded with a blank facial expression as the cool wind blew by and the beautiful moon shone in all its brilliance and wonder over you. 

Luna meant moon. And it also meant the alpha female of the pack with your mate, this being determined by the Moon Goddess herself. Luckily for you, you had eight mates. Being a Luna meant one thing and one thing only. You were just a partner to your mate. You were to produce your mate or mates’ offspring and most of your education was dedicated to learning how to be a good mate. You never learnt anything outside of that.

And you hated it.

You loved your mates through and through. You loved the way Hongjoong would nestle into your arms and nuzzle into your neck when no one was watching, because he wasn't the biggest fan of public displays of affection. You were enamoured with Seonghwa - every time the both of you would cook meals together and his not so subtle way of making you blush. 

Yunho was the most endearing one you had met, he wasn't afraid to show his affection for you, and would grab and spin you around and then look you in the eyes with the warmest and sweetest smile as if you held the entire galaxy in your eyes. Meanwhile, Yeosang was the opposite, he was much more shy than Yunho but he never steered away from showing you how much you meant to him. The both of you would find a book to read together and would place yourselves in the little corner of his window with your head in his lap and him mindlessly playing with your hair while you both read for hours upon end. 

San loved adventures and sharing them with you. He would always take you with him wherever he went and together, you would create endless memories of the day and take endless pictures with an old film camera for your album. Mingi liked playing games so you two would play board games and sometimes even make up your own games which was a special thing just for the two of you. Only the two of you knew the rules. 

Like Seonghwa, Wooyoung loved to cook with you. He wouldn't shy away from giving you a big kiss on the cheek or lips and wouldn't hesitate to create a little chaos so you would chase him and he could scoop you up and kiss you again.

Jongho loved the little moments with you. When the two of you would just watch tv or even do laundry together. He liked just being with you. His favourite memory being the time you nearly fought an aunty at the laundromat for the basket and sat inside of it refusing to budge. He laughed endlessly that day as he watched you place yourself with your hair falling in front of your face and a determined look plastered.

These 8 boys meant the world to you. But with time comes growing up and growing up means taking up responsibility. They were in charge of leading the pack, taking control and handling all the affairs. And with time, things had changed. 

You hardly saw them anymore even though you all lived together. And with time, you started to realise how lost you felt. You didn't know what to do with yourself. You tried cooking and baking to pass the time, but what fun was it when you didn't have anyone to share the food with? The boys were gone for long periods of time, sitting in meetings, negotiating pack deals and handling personal issues within the pack. They weren't there like they used to be and suddenly, it seemed like they just expected that you would be there for them. They started to take you for granted, and it hurt. It hurt a lot.

At first you tried to rationalise it. They were busy taking care of the pack. But then, Hongjoong's mom, who never hid her dislike for you, introduced the pack to a new member who she hoped would take your place. Lila was the only other girl the boys knew besides you and their siblings. And in their mind, it was nice to have a new friend, especially someone who came from a different pack from another part of the realm. 

But they didn't realise they were neglecting you. And slowly, as you saw the way they strayed away from you and Hongjoong's mom constantly berating everything you did, you became depressed and struggled to do anything. The boys noticed but still didn't realise it for what it was.

"It's okay to take time but you can't be lazy."

"It's just a phase."

"You should dress up more like Lila."

You were tired, beyond tired and drained. Nights consisted of you being unable to fall asleep until 1AM, and mornings consisted of waking up at the crack of dawn with all the hurt and pain rushing back in as you came back to reality. All you wanted was to feel like yourself again. You wanted the pain you felt to stop. You wanted the tears that flowed every night like a rushing stream as you muffled yourself into your pillow to stop. You wanted to feel like you again. 

Hongjoong's father was aware of his wife's motives and chastised and begged her to stop. But she ignored him and continued to attack you. He decided you needed a space for yourself until he could talk to his son. He would've done it already if the stupid rogue pack would stop threatening to wage war. 

So he told you about the secret lake and the Moon Goddess temple. Werewolf history prophesied that the lake was where wishes came true and the one with a pure heart and soul could see the Moon Goddess herself if they were truly devoted. In addition, some lore claimed that the lake was a portal to the human realm. Since 1998, all of the realms had been closed off to the human realm after the great siege, and no one had been to the human realm since.

And that's where you spent your time. You befriended the forest animals, you made flower crowns, prayed in the temple seeking for solace from your harsh reality and tried to keep yourself busy for the day.

No one knew of this and Hongjoong's mom tried to insinuate you were seeing someone. But his father immediately put a stop to it, saying that he had you helping out with the young pups on the other side of town.

All fared well for the most part. You still weren't okay but you had a safe space. 

And then it all went down.

You were snapped out of your thoughts. A loud bang pierced through the entire mansion with shrill screams and shouts. 

The rogue werewolf clan attacked that night. 

Everyone screamed and scrambled as fast as they could have. They pushed and rushed for safety as wails pierced through the air. The boys were on the other side of the town and in the large mansion were only you, the boys' families and some members of the pack and the mansion’s workers. 

You raced out of the room hoping to find someone, but ran into one of the rogues with a sickening and sinister smile on his face. You could fight but you weren’t sure if you could take him especially with that giant axe in his hand. Before you could react, a loud clang rang through the room and the rogue fell to the ground groaning in pain as blood began to leak out from the back of his head. In place of him stood your dear friend Cleo, daughter of one of the maids. She breathed heavily, still coming to terms with what she just did.

“Cleo! That was amazing!” 

“Yeah…hah, didn’t know I had that in me.”

As another loud bang was heard, you both snapped out of your thoughts and began to search for a way out. Suddenly, you remembered the secret passage in the library. Both you and Cleo scampered as fast as you could, tripping on your own feet as adrenaline rushed through you and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Finally arriving at the library, you slammed the door and began to find the book that would get you out of here.

You had barely escaped that night. You ran to the lake, stumbling and pushing the fear down your chest. You and Cleo both split up deciding that was the best idea at the moment. In the clearing, you looked around hoping to feel safe. But you could hear the evil snarls and growls approaching you. You didn't know what to do and looked towards the temple, a small prayer on your tongue. 

After that, only one thing came to mind, you hoped those swimming classes would pay off now. You jumped in the lake. As you opened your eyes under the water, there was not much you could see except…a white glow. It gave off a safe vibration, you felt drawn to it.

As you tried to swim towards it, your vision started to become hazy.

And then, it all went dark.

[krirebr]

We Are Vain & We Are Blind

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader

Word Count: ~9.7k

Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever. Part of the Psycho Killer AU

Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika

Masterlist

A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!

I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!

Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.

You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.

You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.

You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house. 

Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”

You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”

Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”

“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?

“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”

“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”

She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.

You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.

At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”

You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”

“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”

You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.

She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”

“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.

“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.

“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.

You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?

The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”

“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”

“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.

“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”

“Grandkid,” you interrupted. 

“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”

You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”

Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”

You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”

“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”

“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”

“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”

You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”

“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined. 

Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.

“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”

Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”

“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”

“Yup! That’s how dares work.”

“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”

“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted. 

You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.

The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you. 

The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.

You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.

“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”

He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?

He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”

“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.

“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”

What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?

His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.

“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”   

You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”

You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.

You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black. 

“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.

“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”

“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say. 

“Not that I saw.”

“Then how do you know they’re for me?”

She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”

She nodded and left. 

You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from. 

You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.

Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?

His response was immediate.

Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular

You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?

Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.

“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”

What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there. 

“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again. 

He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked.  He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”

It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said. 

You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right. 

He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.

You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–

You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.

That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.

In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times. 

When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.

“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.” 

Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”

You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.

Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?” 

Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”

You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"

"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."

"Does it say how?"

He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."

"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!" 

He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.

The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.

You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”

You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”

Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.

Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season. 

As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table. 

“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place. 

"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.” 

Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.

 “New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”

He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.

He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.  

“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.

“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”

Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”

You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you. 

“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.

“No, they all passed a while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 

“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.

“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”

He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”

“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh. 

“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought. 

While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.

As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?” 

“What do you mean?”

You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”

She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”

“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand. 

She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.

“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”

You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”

A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”

“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”

“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant. 

You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.

You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house. 

A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–

You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.

You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.

You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.

You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.

Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down. 

Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.

When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”

You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.

Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”

He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”

A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.

“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?” 

You shrugged and shook your head.

“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”

Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.

“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”

You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.

Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.

Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.

Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.

There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror. 

Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.

The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.

Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.

For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.

“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”

“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”

“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”

As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.

You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.

On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.

That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.

When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.

“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.

   “I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”

He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–

You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.

The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.

“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you. 

You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”

“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”

“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”

“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”

That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”

They looked confused. “Like, ever?”

“No! Just in the past two weeks!”

They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”

You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”

Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.

“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”

“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.

“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”

“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.

“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.

Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you? 

You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”

So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”

You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”

“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”

“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”

“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.

Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.

You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”

You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”

You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.

Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.

It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.

When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”

A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”

“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”

You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.

Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys. 

As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.

As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.

You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.

You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.

Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”

He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”

Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.

He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.

You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”

As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?” 

He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”

There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.

“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”

It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”

He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”

“And if I don’t?”

He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”

“No, no, please,” you begged.

“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.

You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”

Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath. 

You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.

Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.

“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.

You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.

A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, there's a follow-up! 💜

Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Could I request a bat boys story? (any one, surprise me!)

Reader is being brought into the house of wind as a priestess when she peaks the interest of the boys but she's very shy. They feel the mating bond snap into place and try to romance her but start out too over the top. Since she is smaller in stature then then them, they end up overwhelming and scaring her a bit. They feel bad about it but once they take it down a notch and start small with things they slowly start to form a relationship when the mating bond finally snaps for the reader

Thank you so much for your writing! I'm enjoying your account so much!

-call me leaf annon 🌿

Scary mate.

Azriel x f!Reader.

Masterlist

Warnings; mentions of war, abuse, trauma and sexual assault.

This took way longer than I expected it to and gave me a hard time to write so I hope you enjoy it. I recently read here that Azriel is 6'10 so I decided to write this about him. Also I would like to thank you for your kind words and I hope you will enjoy this too.

The war was over and the king of Hybern was killed, everyone was picking their pieces and trying to rebuild their lives like before. You were lost, you didn’t have a home, the king destroyed your temple and killed most of the other priestesses there so you were alone. When the high lord of the night court found you, he immediately offered you a place at his court, he promised to protect you and give you a home, and you trusted him. So now here you are on the balcony of the house of wind next to Rhysand. “No one will harm you here, you will meet my family now and I promise you they are good… they will protect you and take care of you” Rhysand told you and you nodded. You smoothed your pale blue dress and fixed the stone that was hanging in the centre of your brow.

“I’m ready” you said, and Rhysand gestured to the big glass doors.

You walked inside and almost flinched at the sight; two huge males were standing in front of the dining table. Your eyes fell on the most intimidating one, he wasn’t as big as the other but the darkness that surrounded him made him look scarier. He was tall, you probably reached his chest, his body was twice your own and you could swear that if he hugged you, he would cover you entirely.

“Hello” you smiled politely.

The intimidating male’s eyes widened when you spoke, and he moved a bit closer to you. The movement caught you off guard and you instinctively took a step closer to Rhysand. The high lord scowled at him and cleared his throat. He didn’t take his eyes off him when he spoke.

“This is y/n she is the priestess I told you about.” Rhysand glanced at you, pausing for a few seconds before gesturing at one of the males “This is Cassian he is my army’s General, and this is Azriel my spymaster. We all grew up together, and I consider them my brothers.”

You nodded and glanced back at the two males. “Hello, its nice to meet you.” Cassian said and you once again smiled politely.

“You’re beautiful” Azriel blurted out surprising not only you, but his brothers too.

“Uhm thank you” you whispered. You felt uneasy by the whole situation and Azriel made you feel even more uncomfortable. You didn’t mind the compliment especially when it came from a stunning male like him, but he was so big, and he looked so strong… you knew he could overpower you anytime he wished and after what you saw during the war this fact made you feel  scared.

“Would you like to see your room?” Rhys broke the silence. You nodded and followed him. “Other priestesses used to live here too, in the library but after the war they left to rebuild their temples.” He said and guided you in a big bedroom. You gaped at the bed; it was huge. Rhys noticed that and chuckled. “All the beds in this house are like that… to accommodate Illyrian wings.”

“Oh okay… that makes sense too.” You nodded your head as you spoke. “Too? What else did you think?” he asked, a curious look forming on his face. “I…” you blushed but gathered up your courage and continued “you guys are huge even without the wings, so I thought that was the reason”.

Rhysand threw his head back as he laughed making you blush harder.  “Well yeah that too I guess” he said with an arrogant smile. You would scoff if he wasn’t the high lord.

“Anyway, I will let you settle. Please don’t be scared… they both are idiots, but kind idiots. They would never hurt you.” And with that he was gone. You took a deep breath and started exploring your room.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Evening came and your stomach rumbled, so you decided to head to the dining room again. They will probably be there having dinner too you thought and made your way there.

You were right, Cassian, Azriel and a female were sitting there, plates filled with food in front of them. They all looked at you when you walked in, and the female smiled.

“This is nice, Rhysand brought us another priestess to corrupt.” she said and both her and Cassian laughed “I’m Nesta by they way” she smirked. Azriel scowled at her and stood up, he pulled one chair back and stared at you. You approached him warily and flinched when his wings stretched behind him. He studied you for a moment and frowned. “You’re scared of me” he said. “No… I’m sorry” you muttered and sat on the chair, offering him a polite smile.

He leaned in, his one hand on the back of your chair and the other on the table in front of you. You felt caged in, his body so broad that it covered your view and his smell of cedar and smoke so powerful that you couldn’t breathe. He was taking over all of your senses, you only saw him, only smelled him and only felt him. It was too much and you gasped before jumping to your feet and backing off until you hit the wall behind you. Your eyes were wide, and you were panting.

“I’m sorry” he frowned “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted to push your chair in...”

“I- I’m okay don’t worry about it”. Your voice was shaky and you couldn’t stand their gazes on you so you hurried off to your room, you could survive one night without food.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were sitting on your bed when someone knocked on your door. You grabbed a small dagger you had kept on you from the temple and walked to the door, when you opened it no one was there. You started to close the door and noticed a tray on the ground, plates with different kinds of food were place on the tray and a blue rose. You furrowed your eyebrows and took the tray, out of the corner of your eye you noticed a shadow slithering away.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Morning came and you got ready for breakfast, you walked around the house and enjoyed the silence, no one seemed to be there. When you reached the dining room you noticed a plate on the table filled with pancakes and a blue rose next to it. You couldn’t understand what the meaning behind the blue roses was, but you enjoyed them anyway.

No one was in the house indeed, so you explored, and found the library easily.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Afternoon found you in the main room, on one of the sofas there lost deep inside the pages of the book and holding a cup of tea. The flapping of wings made you raise your head and soon enough Cassian with Nesta in his arms and Azriel walked in. The males were dressed in Illyrian leathers, you had seen those leathers before on Illyrian warriors, but you were shocked as you noticed their siphons. The warriors you met in the past wore up to four siphons but those two had seven on them. If that wasn’t enough, you noticed the colour of Azriel’s siphons, they were the same shade of blue as the roses you found. Was he the one who left the roses there? You blushed at the thought.

“Hey y/n” Nesta smiled.

“Hi”

“We were thinking about going out tonight would you like to join us?” She said the smile never leaving her beautiful face. 

“Uhm… I don’t think so I’m tired” you replied and she snorted.

“No you’re not, you are shy and scared of these brutes. I promise I won’t leave your side.” 

You thought about it. She was right you weren’t tired, and you noticed how the males flinched when she said that you are scared of them, their faces flashed with a pained expression. Even though they were huge they seemed kind and caring in a way that made your heart swell. You saw how Cassian acted with Nesta, his features always turning soft when he glanced at her and his voice dropping down a notch when she is around. They seemed to respect females and going out with them didn’t sound so bad, especially when they could protect you from any other harm. 

“Okay” you nodded. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You didn’t know how you ended up in this situation. After arguing with Nesta for more than an hour you gave up, she was unbearable. She was trying to persuade you to wear something else than your usual pale blue dresses. She didn’t like them and she wanted you to try some dresses that belonged to her. At one point you had enough and with a huff you took the dresses from her and tried them on. She didn’t allow you to see yourself before she was finished. And when she did and guided you in front of the mirror your jaw dropped, you couldn’t recognise yourself. You were wearing a short midnight black dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, it had a deep v cut at the front that reached bellow your breasts, and  she made you wear boots that reached over your knees. 

“Wow” was all that you could say. 

“Perfect right?” She giggled. 

“Thank you so much, I look amazing!” You were staring at yourself with a wide grin.

“I can’t wait to see Az’s reaction” she clapped and you froze.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Oh you haven’t noticed? He definitely has a crush on you” 

You blushed. He was a stunning male you had noticed that the moment you saw him and how could you not; he was made from sin and darkness, the powerful aura around him could bring any female to her knees. You had thought about it to be honest, kneeling in front of him and surrendering your body at his mercy. 

You blushed harder at the thought. The things you would let him do to you If only you weren’t scared of him. The roses he left you though showed that maybe he could be romantic and soft. 

You shook your head and followed Nesta not sure where because you didn’t hear a single thing she said as you were lost deep in thoughts. You reached the balcony and found Azriel and Cassian, they were dressed casually now, their outfits making them look more approachable -still intimidating though. 

Azriel was staring at you, a blush creeping in his face as he followed every curve of your body until he reached your eyes.

“Uhm… have you….Uhm have you ever flew before?” He was stuttering earning a surprised look from Cassian.

“No” you shook your head feeling more comfortable now. 

“Okay, so… I have to pick you up, are you okay with me placing one hand under your waist and the other under your knees?” The stutter was gone, yet his voice remained soft and he was fidgeting. You glanced at Nesta, Cassian was holding her in his arms the same way as Azriel explained. She gave you a nod and smiled.

“Yeah, I guess…” you muttered and moved closer to him. Cauldron, he was huge. He crouched and stretched his hand.

“I’m placing my hand behind your knees” he informed and then you felt it “and now behind your back” you felt that too. “I will pick you up now” he said but didn’t move. You glanced at him and he was staring at you waiting for your approval. You nodded.

“Words angel” he said and you felt like fainting because of the nickname. 

“Y-yes” 

And with that he picked you up and nodded at Cassian, they both stretched their wings and with two long strides they took off. You didn’t feel fear, you were so small that his body was covering yours entirely so you only felt him, not the void beneath you. And for the first time since you met him you felt comfortable by his size, it was making you feel safe. In addition to that, the way he made sure that you were okay with him touching you made your heart melt. 

The flight was silent, and as you landed he softly placed you at your feet again, before quickly moving backwards. He was trying to not scare you away and you smiled thankfully.

You entered a bar called Rita’s and followed Nesta towards a booth. Nesta sat on one of the couches and Cassian slipped next to her trying to make his wings fit. You sat on the other couch and Azriel took a seat next to you doing the same as Cassian. One of his wings bumped into you and his thigh pressed against your own. He sent you an apologetic look “It’s the only way to fit here…do you want me to find another seat?” 

You gaped at him. “No no it’s okay don’t worry” 

He smiled and turned his attention to Cassian. They started talking about their missions and stuff Rhysand had asked them to do making both you and Nesta bored. They noticed after a while and Cassian moved closer to her, kissing her neck and whispering in her ear. 

You didn’t know what to do so you glanced at Azriel, he was already looking at you.

“Do you like the house?” He asked.

“Yeah it’s okay, I really love the library”

“It is something else right? So many books..” he chuckled.

“Yes I can’t just pick one, I felt lost today every time one caught my attention I would see another better one” 

“Well you have all the time you need to read everything” he paused. “If you decide to stay of course”

“I think I already made the decision when I came here” you laughed.

“Right well I’m glad, I want you to stay” he blurted out and blushed as he realised what he said. 

“How is living here like? I mean except of Rita’s where else would someone go to have fun?” you questioned.

“There are many places, taverns, bakeries, coffee shops and also places in the nature, there’s actually one field next to the Sidra it’s amazing… it’s filled with sparkling flowers and you can see every part of Velaris.” He looked like he was daydreaming about this place.

“Maybe you can show it to me sometime” you smiled and his eyes widened.

“Of course, do you want to go now?” 

You glanced at Cassian and Nesta, they were making out and you could swear that you smelled their arousal. You wrinkled your nose and turned back to Azriel.

“Yes please” the look of despair made him throw his head back as he laughed.

“Let’s go” he stood up and offered you his hand, you gladly took it and followed him outside. Nesta and Cassian were still swallowing each other’s faces and didn’t even notice that the two of you left. Once you were outside Azriel let go of your arm and said “I have to pick you up again” 

“Okay” you shrugged and this time moved more confidently towards him placing your hand behind his neck as he crouched. He quirked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as he swiftly picked you up and shoot off. 

“I think I can get used to this” you shouted over the wind making him smile. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The field was indeed beautiful, the flowers sparkled, the only sound was coming from Sidra… the water flowing and splashing against the mountain rocks. 

The view of the city took your breath away, the city was full of beautiful lights and buildings and the sky around it was decorated with stars of almost every colour. 

“It’s beautiful” you whispered.

“I know, I come here when I need to calm down or think.” His voice was once again soft.

“Oh I’m sorry, you didn’t have to bring me here, I don’t want to invade your privacy” you gasped.

“No it’s okay, I wanted to bring you here.” He smiled. 

You were sitting on the ground, staring at the beautiful city and talking about your past. You were crying as he told you about his childhood and then you were laughing at the stories he told you about him and his brothers. 

Then, you told him about your own past and the things you saw during the war, his jaw was ticking every time you mentioned one of the warriors raping a priestess. 

“Did anyone touch you?” He asked when you were done speaking.

“No, I was the youngest so the other priestesses would hide me when the warriors came” you teared up.

“I won’t ever let anyone touch you, and if we ever come across one of those males I will make them beg for mercy” his voice became lethal as he spoke and his gaze was so intense that it woke something in you. You couldn’t understand the feeling, it was a tightening of your chest and then it snapped. 

You gasped. He only smiled and nodded his head.

“You knew?” You asked.

“From the moment I saw you” his smile was warm and full of care. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?” He questioned and you nodded. 

“Words angel” he said once again and this time the nickname made your heart beat faster and you grinned.

“Yes, touch me please” 

His hand moved and caressed your jaw, he leaned closer and stared at your lips.

“Kiss me please” you whispered and he chuckled.

“Good girl” he said and captured your lips with his own. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel was taking things slow... every day he would leave a blue rose somewhere in the house for you to find. Sometimes he would leave a new book on your pillow and a blue rose next to it. You got used to his size and it even became one of your favourite things about him. It made you feel safe and comfortable. 

So, a few months later you waited for him to come back from one of his missions with a plate of food you made for him and a blue rose. 

Requests are open! If you don't like it you can always ask me to rewrite it, I won't get offended!

[narryffdreaming]

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — TWO

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.

PART TWO: 14,9k words Please read: Part two explores a lot of Aurora's irrational thoughts and it shows how much she struggles to be herself after being married to someone who was emotionally abusive to her. From my perspective, it's a really important chapter to develop the relationship between Aurora and Harry, but I want people to be mindful of its content in case they don't feel comfortable reading about this, or in case it hits too close to them. Feel free to reach out if you want to skip something and you'd like me to fill you in. <3

PART ONE

Despite the line, getting through security would've taken Aurora hardly three minutes. That is, of course, if she hadn't had to wait for Harry for another ten. 

He doesn't look the least apologetic for the held back, though. Nor bothered in the slightest by the extra time he seemingly needed. Smiling at her and holding their shared tray as he tilts his chin to an empty table and leads the way towards it. 

Aurora follows him quietly, checking her watch just to make sure they won't run out of time. And she does it unconsciously, regretting every time she catches herself looking at her wrist. Because she knows they're early. She swears she knows. And she wishes she could relax and just enjoy things without that awful feeling rushing through her body. That feeling that turns into a voice and yells at her that she's constantly behind. 

Behind what, one could ask, and Aurora wouldn't be able to answer.

She's just… Behind. 

Behind, and watching her life go by.

All the damn time.

Harry stops by the table, and Aurora mimics him. She drops her bag and falls on one knee, pulling up the hem of her dress and uncovering her foot. The Nike sneakers she's wearing used to be white once, but now they are just old and dirty, and she loves them even more like this. She nibbles the flesh inside of her bottom lip while tying the shoelaces up, then changes to her other knee, and repeats the process. 

Once she's done, she stands up and pats her legs, getting rid of any airport floor dirt from her clothes. 

"You're fast," Harry says, putting his foot down from the edge of the table. 

Aurora pulls the fabric of her dress up her chest and furrows her brows. "I am?"

"Hm, yeah." He frowns with amusement and chuckles. "You sure are."

"Huh." She wiggles her eyebrows up and down, then quirks the corner of her mouth up. 

Maybe, she should point out that perhaps she isn't fast, but he is too slow. Or that, unlike him, she'd organized everything beforehand so she wouldn't waste any second longer than she absolutely needed to. But what good would that do? Besides, those thoughts don't even feel like hers. They don't sound like hers. 

So she says nothing, instead, and steps closer to where he stands. 

Harry gives the tray they're sharing a gentle push to her side, and puts his other foot up. 

Aurora promptly slides the tray closer to her and places it in front of her belly, next to her bag. 

Great. 

Saying nothing was a bad idea, because silence is awkward now. 

She licks her lips and keeps her attention on their belongings, not knowing exactly what to say. 

Time goes by, though, and the longer she waits, the more awkward it gets. 

So she decides to just say whatever, just to get them talking again. 

"Perks of being a mom, I guess." She blurts out, then grabs their passports and shrugs. "Being fast, I mean." 

Harry leans on his bent knee and looks at her over his shoulder, blindly tying up his own shoes. 

"Yeah? Why's that? You get any super speed powers when you're pregnant or something?"

Aurora freezes for a second, passports still in hand. She turns her head to the side, and narrows her eyes at him.

Harry's soft lips are pursed, his green eyes are twinkling with playfulness, and his cheeks are tinted with a boyish flush under his facial hair. He's clearly having fun with his own silly comment, and it causes Aurora to break into a short laugh — not because it's funny, but because she simply can't help it. 

She shakes her head, and looks back at the tray. 

"I rush to get ready so I can pay attention to Noah, okay?" she explains, grabbing the boarding passes and checking the names on them. She puts hers inside of her passport, and the other inside of Harry's. "It's not a big deal."

She'd never thought about it, but it's the truth — she is usually busy keeping an eye on Noah, even from a distance. The little monster can't stay still for too long, and no matter how much she adores how energetic he is or that she tries her best to let him explore things by himself, the truth is that he's still only four, and she can't leave him wandering around unattended.

Which is why she fought so hard to sign him up for preschool — it gave her time to slow down and do other things, too.

Okay. See? That — that right there — is Aurora's truth. That's a thought that feels and sounds like hers. A thought that she came up with on her own, based on her own experiences and her own mistakes. A thought that reveals how she's learned that taking care of Noah is her responsibility, and that if she doesn't pay attention to her son, nobody does. 

No matter how much she dreamed it would be different.

No matter how much she believed it should be different. 

"Ohhh," Harry says. "Ok, then."

She sticks her passport and boarding pass into the front pocket of her bag, maybe a little bit more forcefully than she needs to.

"Exactly. So don't judge me."

"What?!" Harry laughs, putting his foot down from the table. "I wasn't—" 

"I can't leave my son unattended, can I?"

"I—I know, yeah." His face falls, and he nods. "I get it. That's… It makes sense. Yes." 

"Right. Great." 

A second goes by, and then another one, and another one.

Silence settles again, but this time Aurora isn't worried about it being awkward or not. 

There's just… So much going on. 

Her heart is thumping loudly inside her chest, and her ears are buzzing. 

She shouldn't have snapped at him. 

She shouldn't have snapped at him.

It wasn't about him. 

It wasn't his fault. 

She pinches the tip of her nose and breathes in. Slowly, and steadily. 

One more time. 

Slowly.

And steadily.

And then, she moves again.

She holds Harry's things in her hand and leans on the table, reaching for his bag. Before she touches it, she looks at him over her shoulder and asks, "Do you mind if I open your bag?"

Harry doesn't answer, though. He's tilting his chin down and shaking his leg, making sure his pants are properly covering his ankles. 

Aurora purses her lips and straightens her back, then slides his bag across the table and pulls it closer to her body. 

Now everything's in front of her, the tray caged in between both duffel bags. 

She bites her bottom lip, but it's hard to stop her mouth from turning into a smile. 

Maybe the speed in which she moves isn't an inconvenience, after all. In fact, maybe it even comes in handy, because apparently if she doesn't move for both of them, someone will sooner or later shove them away. 

"Harry," she insists.

"Hm?" He looks up. A frown crinkles his face — his eyebrows are pulled together, his forehead is puckered, and his lips are curled downwards. As soon as he meets her eyes, though, his shoulders drop, and he shakes his head. "Sorry."

He scratches his jaw, dragging his nails over his stubble. 

Aurora stretches her arm, and pats her hand on the edge of the table, where his feet were a minute ago. "It's fine. I was just asking if it's okay to put your passport inside your bag."

"Oh! Yeah yeah, sure. Go ahead. Thanks."

"'Kay," she says, already unzipping the front pocket and putting things away. 

Aurora rolls her shoulders at the same time Harry moves closer, and she unthinkingly snatches his belt from the tray and hands it to him. 

"Here."

"Oh," he murmurs, grabbing it from her fingers. "Thanks."

He steps away, but there's something in his voice that somehow catches her attention, and Aurora turns her head. 

She glances over her shoulder, and peeks at his face. 

Harry is looking down again, chin pressed against his chest while he takes the end of his belt and puts it into the first front loop of his beige pants. His movements are casual, but he's holding back a smile, and Aurora can tell his mind is working on something.

Something silly, to be more specific. 

She curls her mouth up, then raises her left eyebrow. "What?"

Harry tugs his belt, threading it through the second loop. 

"What?" he repeats, and his mouth finally turns into a grin. 

She turns her body towards him, then places one hand on her waist and the other spread open on the table, holding up her weight. "C'mon, out with it."

Harry laughs, slightly bending his knees and throwing his head back. "I didn't even say a word!"

"Well, you didn't have to!" She rolls her eyes and chuckles, backing away from the table to put both hands on her hips. "I can see you're thinking something."

He shakes his head, looking down and threading his belt through the next loop. 

"Harry…"

He peeks at her through the corner of his eyes, then focuses back on his belt. 

"You're aware you can leave me unattended, right?" he asks, keeping a bright smile on his face and the light tone on his voice.

"What?"

"I mean I don't mind." He shrugs, eyes still on his current task. "Gotta admit it's kinda cute to see you like this." 

"I don't—"

"My favorite part was probably when you cleaned up the table."

"I—" Aurora closes her mouth, and exhales through her nose. "You put your feet there, Harry."

"I did, yeah. And you cleaned it up."

"Well, someone has to clean up your mess, don't you think?"

Harry glances at her, and smirks as mischievous and suggestive as he can be. "Oh, I always clean up my mess, love, don't worry about it."

He winks, and Aurora gasps. 

"Oh my God!"

She turns to face the table, feelings her cheeks getting warm. 

Harry laughs, though, so she steps closer to his side and nudges him with her elbow. 

"Shut up."

"'Kay mum."

"Ughhh." She rolls her eyes, then shuts them tightly and takes a deep breath in. "You're so annoying." 

Harry's laughter only grows louder, and Aurora shakes her head, blinking her eyes open again. 

It only takes him a moment to calm down, but the smile is still obvious in his voice when he speaks again. 

"I know. I'm just teasing you, tho. I'll stop now. I promise."

Aurora snorts. "Yeah, right." 

She believes his words as much as she believes Noah when he promises he will eat his entire dinner if he gets to eat dessert first. 

The thought brings a smile to her face, and she bites her lip to hold it back. 

Peeking inside the tray one more time, she finds several rings, a bracelet, a watch, and three necklaces. Her mouth twitches, and her chest trembles with amusement — no wonder why Harry took so much longer than her to get through security.

She pulls the string of her necklace from the tray, takes each side to the back of her neck and quickly clasps it back to its everyday place. Next, she grabs her watch, and puts it on just as fast around her wrist. 

"Well,"  she starts, then looks at him. 

Harry is, once again, deeply focused on his task — his chin touches his chest, his eyebrows are pulled together, and he's biting his bottom lip. 

"All yours now," she adds. 

Harry peeps at her through the corner of his eyes, his hands still attached to his belt as he finally reaches the last loop. He darts his vision to the tray, then back at her, scanning her chest, her wrist, and her hands. "You sure? All of it?"

"Mhmm."

A group of people walks to their table, and Aurora takes a step aside to give them more room.

"Ok." He buckles his belt, then fixes his shirt. "We can go, then."

"Oh. I didn't mean to rush you."

He smiles, putting one hand inside the tray and carelessly collecting everything that's left inside. 

"You didn't." He closes his hand into a fist, then shoves everything inside of his pocket. "It's just getting crowded here. C'mon."

"Hey, was my joke inappropriate?"

Past security and turning right, the hallway is significantly less hectic than any other area Aurora has walked through in the last hour or so. 

It is probably one of the brightest, too. 

"Hm?" she asks, tilting her head to give Harry her full attention. "Sorry, what joke?"

"About… Y'know, cleaning up my mess."

"Ohhh." Aurora laughs, then waves him off. "Please, it's nothing any of you guys haven't joked about before." 

"I know, but… Things are different now, aren't they? Don't want to make you uncomfortable, or, well, don't want to be disrespectful to your hus—"

"You're fine," she says, cutting him off before she'll be forced to either correct him or say nothing, implicitly letting him believe there's still a husband in her life. "Don't worry about it. Let's stop here so you can put your rings back on, yeah?"

She points to one side of the hallway, and walks in front of him to guide the way. It only takes her a few steps, then she places her bag by her feet and turns around. 

When she looks at him, she finds him frowning. 

Frowning and frozen on the spot. 

"Harry, hey!" She raises one hand and wiggles her fingers. "C'mon. I'll help you."

Harry's face softens. He shakes his head, then walks towards her while putting his hand inside of his pocket. 

Leaning against the white wall, Aurora watches him come to a stop right in front of her, then drop all of his jewelry on top of her spread open palm.

"Thank you," he murmurs. 

She finds his sight again, and a smile blooms across her face. "Sure, no problem."

His lips curve into a smile, too, and he looks down. He shakes his head and pulls his hair back, then turns his attention back to the items on Aurora's palms. He seems meticulous about which ring goes where, fiddling with them and hunting for specific ones. Eventually, he grabs three at once, and puts them on his pinky, middle and index left fingers. 

Aurora raises her chin and rests the back of her head against the wall, comfortably watching his relaxed face as he towers over her. 

From what she remembers, jewelry was never Harry's thing. Long hair and skinny jeans? One hundred percent. But the necklaces, the rings, and the bracelets? Those were things she'd no idea he'd be into. Or maybe not to the point of making them part of his casual look to the airport.  

"So," she teases, easing her dry lips with her tongue then forcing her voice to sound exactly like she imagines a reporter would sound like, "Harry, would you say you enjoy wearing rings?" 

Harry darts his eyes to her, and the expression on his face never falters, holding a serious and unamused demeanor as he moves his lips to say, "Bloody hate them."

She presses her lips together, but then she snorts, taking her free hand to cover her mouth. 

Harry shakes his head and grins, changing hands and catching two more rings to put on his right fingers. 

"Why? What's wrong with my rings?" 

She sighs and shrugs, calming down from her brief moment of foolish, silly laughter. 

"Nothing. 'M just teasing you."

He places the last two, and pulls the two golden strings from her palm. 

"Hmm…" Harry nods. He fixes his eyes on the jewelry and frowns, eying the many tiny knots that had formed along the necklaces. "Great, then. Glad you're having fun at my expense."

Aurora drops her jaw.

"You were making fun of me two minutes ago!"

Harry chuckles, although he's distracted by his attempt to untangle his necklaces. "Guess I was, huh."

He shakes his head, and Aurora steps away from the wall, getting closer to him.

"Which wrist do you wear this one?" she asks, lifting her hand and his bracelet.

"Left—I mean, right," he answers, and although they don't look at each other's faces, they both smile at the same time. 

Harry remains focused on the knotted strings between his fingers, but stops moving when Aurora curls one hand around his right wrist and pulls it closer to her face. In one quick movement, she clasps the item around it, then taps his hand twice. 

"All done. Now gimme that." 

She snatches the necklaces from him, and observes carefully before undoing the mess. One of the golden strings is longer than hers, but they're both just as delicate, and instead of a disk, one holds a cross pendant, and the other a tiny, thin tag. She bites her lip and patiently fiddles with the pieces of jewelry, taking her time to unwrap the tiny knots.

Things are quiet. Time ticks without a hurry. And after a minute, or maybe two, or three, she grins proudly, and lifts her chin to look at him.

"Look!" she says, even though she doesn't have to — Harry's already looking at her, already watching her. "I've done it!"

He blinks a couple of times, then nods, slowly mimicking her smile and her excitement. "Y—You did, yeah! Thanks."

"You're welcome." She grabs the longest string, picking each side with one hand, and takes a step closer to him. "I find untangling necklaces weirdly therapeutic." 

Harry widens his eyes. "What are you doing?!" 

Aurora rolls her eyes, and chuckles. "Calm down. I'm not gonna kiss you, don't worry."

"Right. No, yeah, I know that." He chuckles, too. "Of course." 

She stops moving and tilts her head, then raises her hands. "I mean, can I?"

"Wha—" Harry takes a step back. "Kiss me?!"

"Harry!" Aurora shrieks, also taking a step back and away from him. "Oh my God, no!"

She looks at him for a moment, taking in his bulged eyes and raised eyebrows. He looks mortified, and there's so much going on at once that she can't help but burst into laughter — at the misunderstanding, at the look of his face, but also at the terror in his voice. 

She turns away from him, throwing her head back as laughter breaches from her chest. 

"This is… I can't…"

"Sorry," Harry says, "I just—"

Aurora shakes her head, feeling warmth radiating from her chest throughout her entire body. 

"Oh my… Oh my God." She places one hand on her stomach and brings the other to her face, fanning herself while taking a deep breath in through her nose. "You should've… You should've seen your face… Oh God… Harry… You panicked so hard, I just…"

She wipes a tear from under her eye, and takes another deep breath in, working to calm herself down.

"I never… I never thought the idea of kissing me could… Could be that terrifying for someone. Oh God."

Harry sighs. "Auri…"

She turns around, and looks at him with the biggest smile on her face, her body still shaking from laughing. 

Harry isn't happy, though. Or at least he doesn't seem to be. He's narrowing his eyes, and furrowing his brows. His lips are pressed into a hard line, and his forehead is puckered. 

And just like that, Aurora's laughter fades away. 

Shit. 

She's too familiar with that dynamic, so she clears her throat and shakes her head. 

"I'm sorry. I—I know it wasn't funny. I just… I think I haven't laughed this hard in a really long time, so I just… I got carried away, I guess. I'm sorry. But I shouldn't—Sorry." 

"Listen, I didn't—"

"Yeah, yeah. I know." 

Actually, Aurora doesn't know. Of course she doesn't know. She has absolutely no idea what he was about to say, but she doesn't want to talk about it. She's been there before. And she's been there before so many times that her mind and body don't even know how to react any other way. How not to anticipate the humiliation and shame that is about to follow. How not to completely shut off. 

Thankfully, Harry seems to get it, because he nods, grabbing his necklaces from her hand and putting them back inside of his pocket. 

And this time, Aurora doesn't say anything about it, grabbing her bag from the floor and feeling ready to move on.

"Do you mind if we take a look around some of the shops?" Aurora asks, pointing around the World Duty Free and breaking the silence that settled between them for the past few minutes. 

Harry moves slowly next to her, keeping his hands inside of his pockets. "'Course not."

"Thanks." She makes sure to curve her mouth into a smile, then stops at the first shop to take a look at the makeup. 

Things are quiet, but Harry stands right behind her all the time, keeping her company while she brings a lipstick closer to her face to check the color shade, and then following her steps when she moves to a different shelf. 

"Hey," Aurora says, looking over her shoulder, "what's your cologne?"

"Hm..." He scratches his jaw and shrugs. "Depends on the day, I guess."

She nods, then turns to face some nail polish, aiming for the brightest options. 

It's been a while since she's done her nails. She used to love looking at her hands and seeing them colorful and filled with rings, it used to make her feel beautiful and delicate. Feminine. 

Zack used to love it as well, though, and to be honest at some point she stopped doing a lot of things Zack liked. Just because.

"Which one are you wearing today, then?"

"Why?" 

She shrugs. His voice is right behind her, but Aurora doesn't turn around to look at him. 

"'Cause you smell really nice." 

Maybe she could do her nails in Italy… Maybe one of the girls brought something with them. 

Or maybe she could get something herself…

The orange shades look nice…

She sighs, and steps away from the shelf. 

She can't. She shouldn't spend her money like that. She needs to be more careful now, especially since she spent a lot of unplanned money on that trip to Italy. 

She turns her head, wiggling her eyebrows at him. "So…?" 

Harry clears his throat. "Uh… Well… It's Guerlain."

Aurora twirls, holding her bag close to her body as her hair and dress follow her brisk movement.

"Cool! Let's find it, then." 

She walks away, and Harry's low chuckle echoes behind her. 

Although she can't see him, she feels his presence all the time, following her pace.

"What for?" he asks. 

"I don't know." She shrugs, looking from one side to the other. Scanning all the tiny duty-free shops. "I'm bored, I'm tired… Oh! There it is!" 

Her pace quickens, and so does Harry's.

Aurora only stops when she's in front of the Guerlain shelves, and then she turns around, staring at him with a smile on her face and pointing her arm to the many colognes displayed behind her. 

"Which one is yours?"

He clears his throat, and— 

Wait, is he blushing? 

Aurora purses her lips, holding herself back from laughing.

"It's L'Homme Idéal Extr��me."

"Hmmm." She wiggles her eyebrows, and pulls one corner of her mouth up in a smirk. "Sounds sexy…" 

"Jesus Christ," Harry grunts, hiding his face behind both of his hands and shaking his head. 

Aurora laughs at his reaction, tapping his shoulder twice before turning on her feet and looking for his cologne. 

"What happened to you in the States, huh?" She leans down, squinting to read the names. "Never thought I would see Harry Styles getting all shy in front of me."

It takes him a moment to answer, but eventually he mumbles, "I've always been shy in front of you."

Aurora pauses for a moment, replaying his words in her mind. Images of them hanging out together pop up immediately — at the pub, at someone's apartment, after class, over the weekend. His cheeky glances, touchy hands and bold comments are always present, one way or another. He always craved attention, and people had no problem granting his wishes. 

It never bothered her, because he was young and had just joined university, but it certainly didn't paint him as a shy and reserved person. 

A snort leaves her mouth. "Yeah, right." 

She stands, and puts her hands on her waist. "What was the sexy name again?"

"L'Homme—" He sighs. "It's this one."

Aurora turns around, only to find Harry standing in the same place they were a minute ago. The shelf next to him is filled with bottles of the same cologne. Apparently, his cologne.

She gasps. 

"Harry!" She walks towards him, and Harry shakes his head in soft laughter, scratching the back of his neck. "I was standing right next to it and you didn't tell me!"

"It's just a very common cologne, Auri." He laughs, again. It sounds kind of shaky, though, and she frowns, stopping on her track. "I don't… Why are we looking for it?"

Uh… 

Well… To be honest… She doesn't have an answer for that. 

She doesn't know why they're looking for it. She is just joking. She just wanted to pass the time because she is exhausted, and because the longer she spends around people, the more afraid she is of falling apart at any moment. She thought maybe she could try it on, see if his cologne would smell as well on her skin as it smelled on his… Who knows… She was just… She wasn't thinking, okay? She was just being her stupid self.

Harry, on the other hand, isn't just messing around. Harry looks actually nervous. 

Her jokes are making him nervous. 

She is making him uncomfortable. 

In the middle of an airport, filled with people. 

Shit.

And she's done it twice now. 

First with the necklace… Now with the cologne… 

Fuck.

How many more times till he reaches his breaking point? 

How many more times till she finally pushes him through the edge? 

How many more times till she puts him in a position where he won't be able to stop himself from snapping at her?

Her hands shake, and her stomach quivers. 

"Yeah, no, I mean…" She shakes her head and smiles at him, closing her hands into fists and placing them behind her back. "You're right. Sorry. I—I'm really sorry. Hm… I think I… I should get a coffee."

Harry flinches his head back. "Wait  what?"

"Coffee. It'll keep me awake." She walks around him, and Harry follows her movements. 

"Auri, but what… Hey! What about my cologne?"

She waves it off. "Yeah, I know. I was just being annoying." 

She moves towards the exit of the duty-free, where all the departure gates are, and another yawn breaks through her lips. 

"Yep." She chuckles. "Definitely need some coffee."

"Auri," Harry calls, catching up with her. "Hey, stop. C'mon. Something just happened."

"What do you mean?" Aurora laughs. 

She flexes her fingers, curling and uncurling them. Her eyes wander around the airport, looking for a coffee shop. 

A coffee shop. 

A coffee shop. 

She needs a coffee shop. She needs to get herself together. She needs to busy herself with something before she does something silly and stupid again. 

"I… I don't know. Why did you change your mind?"

Harry walks next to her, and she offers him a smile. 

"About what?"

"What do you mean about what? About my cologne, Auri!"

Aurora flinches.

"Sorry. Yeah, no, right. The cologne. Yeah. I just… I made you uncomfortable and I was being childish. Sorry."

"I wasn't uncomfortable, Auri, I just—"

"I know."

"Auri, no, listen—" 

"Harry." She turns around and smiles, then places one hand on his elbow. "It's fine. You don't need to explain yourself. I just… I really, really need a coffee right now. I haven't slept all night, so… Yeah. I'd just like to get a coffee. If you don't mind."

She lets go of his elbow, and Harry sighs. 

"Ok, yeah. Let's get you some coffee, then."

They walk forward, side to side, and Harry speaks again. 

"Do you still drink caramel coffee?"

Aurora widens her eyes. 

"Wow… That's back from… Well, a long time ago."

It's small, and kind of timid, but Harry smiles, and then shrugs. "Used to get you one at least once a week, didn't I?"

"You did, yeah." She smiles back at him and nods, then faces forward again. There's a coffee shop only three stores ahead, and it seems to be already open. Thank God. "To be honest I can't remember the last time I had one. I drink plain black coffee now."

Harry nods, and they both walk in silence, side by side — always side by side.

It shouldn't be uncomfortable, but Aurora's chest is heavy, and her mind seems foggy. 

Truth be told, she thought she would have more time before she started disappointing her friends, before letting them know how much she's changed and how uninteresting she's become.

Meeting Harry at the airport got in between her plans, though. And she could feel herself breaking little by little each second. Having to face the memories of someone she used to be, someone she liked to be, but also someone she isn't anymore. And someone she can't be anymore. 

Looking at her feet, she bites the inside of her lip. She was acting like a child at the duty-free, wasn't she? Jumping around, excited about his cologne… 

God. She hasn't even left the country yet, and she's already ruining things. 

She needs to control herself. 

She isn't a teenager anymore. She can't embarrass him. She doesn't want to embarrass him. 

"Do you want something to eat?" Harry asks, and she stops walking.

They're in front of the coffee shop, but Aurora wouldn't have realized if it weren't for him.

She shakes her head. "No, I'll just get myself a coffee."

"Let me get it for you."

What?

She takes a step back. "Absolutely not."

Harry's smile falters, but he doesn't give up. "C'mon… Like the old times! Yeah?"

"No, Harry. I mean, thanks, but no. I can pay for mine."

"I know you can pay for yours, I don't—"

"Please." She shakes her head and looks down to the floor. "It's just a silly coffee. I can get it for me. Okay?"

Harry frowns. 

"Ok? Yeah." 

Aurora nods, looks at the shop, then back to the floor. "Are you getting anything?"

"No, I'll just wait here."

"Okay," she whispers, forcing a smile before turning around and walking away.

It's crazy to see how much Harry has changed.

That's all Aurora can think about while she stands in line and watches him type on his phone. 

He's still outside, waiting for her, and seems deeply engaged with his conversation, frowning while his fingers move rapidly. 

No more black skinny jeans, no more vintage t-shirts or Chelsea boots. No more curls that are longer than her own hair. No more thin shoulders nor skinny arms. 

His baggy pants — wide legged, high-waisted — are beige, his cute shoes are yellow, and she still can't get over the flamingo shirt he's wearing.

He looks older, too. Brooding features, chiseled cheekbones, growing stubble. His face is perfectly carved, his traces have hardened, and there is something very manly about the way he stands there, focusing on typing on his phone. 

It isn't just his physical appearance, though. He acts like a grown-up, too. There's something about the way he simply exists that screams how much he's changed. You would never tell the man standing outside is the same boy who used to make stupid bets with his roommates from uni. But it's clear that Harry isn't a boy anymore, and that he's turned into a man.

And Aurora wasn't prepared to deal with that. 

Aurora lowers her chin and rubs her eyes.

She is being ridiculous. 

Why would she need to be prepared for that? 

Of course Harry grew up! How old is he now, anyway? 29? 30? Of course he isn't the same anymore. 

She should focus on how nice it is to see him again, not about stupid things. 

Who would've thought she would actually meet him at the airport? Who would've thought they'd end up sharing the flight? Standing in line with him, hopefully getting some seats next to each other… She should appreciate having a friend by her side. That's all. 

Aurora can't remember why he stopped hanging out with the group, though, and now she can't stop thinking about it. She has absolutely no idea about anything that could be going on with his life. It was as if Harry had grown more and more distant with time, until he wasn't there at all.

She's still pretty sure the last time she saw him was at her and Zack's wedding. She remembers someone telling her he'd moved to the United States, but why wasn't she at his graduation? It didn't make sense. Especially considering how, around a year later, he was kind enough to send them a basket when Noah was born.

They weren't the closest friends, and they were in very different stages of their lives when they met, sure, but they were part of the same group, and she used to have a soft spot for him. Just like she used to have a soft spot for Niall. 

Usually, when they were all at the pub, everyone would leave and the three of them would stay behind, chatting and laughing until Aurora felt her lids closing by themselves and they would walk her home. They both used to make her laugh all the time, and she actually loved spending those moments with them. 

Until she met Zack, of course, and then she started spending her nights with him. 

Maybe that was it. Maybe it wasn't about him. Maybe she had grown more and more distant, until she wasn't around anymore. At all.

She knows it's something she's done with everyone else, at least. The girls would knock on her door from time to time, though, and she couldn't run from everyone whilst living in the same city, but Harry flying overseas was a different situation. So it makes sense they didn't keep up with their friendship. 

It makes sense, but it still bothers her. 

It bothers her because she forgot how easy, and fun, and electrifying it was to be around him. She forgot how affectionate, attentive, kind, and friendly he was. She forgot how spontaneous and cheerful she used to be with him. She forgot how much she enjoyed his carefree and easygoing way of looking at life. She forgot… 

Well, to be honest, it's like she just forgot about him. 

And how could she forget about him?

Harry used to be such a great friend. 

Just like Niall. 

But somehow different. 

Because there's something about the way Harry looks at her that she never found in Niall's eyes. It has something to do with Harry's curiosity, probably. How much he cares about details. How he likes to know more about people, about things, about everything. 

"Next?" the lady behind the counter shouts.

Aurora shakes her head, and darts her eyes away from Harry. 

She has no idea how much time she just spent staring at him. She didn't even notice she was doing it, to be honest. And she can only hope he didn't notice, as well.

The woman behind her taps her shoulder.

"That's you, miss," she says. 

Aurora widens her eyes and steps forward.  "Oh, yes, sorry… Hi!" 

Their flight is delayed. 

Aurora laughs, and rubs her fingers on her forehead. 

"And I was worried I'd be late," she murmurs.

They've been hanging out by their gate for at least half an hour now. Harry sits next to her, their bags placed together on his opposite side. He's leaning back comfortably, arms crossed on top of his abdomen and legs spread open in front of him. 

He nudges her arm with his elbow, then asks, "What was that?"

She shakes her head and waves him off with one hand, then double taps her phone with the other, lighting up the screen. 

It's 6:30. 

Noah should be waking up by now. Or at least Zack should be trying to wake him up. 

She unlocks her phone and opens up the app to text him. She takes a deep breath in, and her fingers hover the screen. She needs to be careful with her words, because she doesn't want him to think she doesn't trust him with Noah. That would be unfair with him. And it's not even about that. Of course it's not! She knows Noah's safe with his dad. She swears she never questioned him as a father. Whatever happened between them as a couple would never change the fact that Zack loves Noah to death. 

Aurora knows that. Really! The only reason why she wants to know how they're doing is because Noah has never woken up at his dad's new place, and because she knows what a long and emotional process it can be to wake him up. That's all. 

She bites her bottom lip, and types the same questions again and again, until she's happy with the way she's phrased them.

Hii! 

How are you guys doing?

How was Noah's first night over there? Did you guys have fun?

She sends the messages, and reads them over. And over, and over. 

That was good, wasn't it? She sounded friendly, right? She wasn't attacking him, right? He wouldn't be mad at her, right?

"I'll be right back," Harry says, getting up from his seat. He moves past her quickly, looking at his own hand and sliding his finger through the screen of his phone before taking it to his ear. "Hey… Yeah, I know… No, you listen to me…"

Harry doesn't sound happy — at all — and Aurora frowns. She watches him walk away, blending between people, then glances back to her phone.

No signs of Zack yet. Which is fine. Of course. It's not even been a minute. Actually, Aurora is usually so absorbed by Noah in the mornings that she doesn't check her phone until she drops him off at preschool. So it's fine. Really.

Hopefully he'll be able to make him have breakfast by 7:15, though. Otherwise they won't get there on time. Should she remind him of that? No, that's stupid. Zack is not stupid, and she always drives him insane for reminding him of the obvious little details. 

Maybe he won't even take him to preschool. Maybe he'll drive him over to his parents, instead. 

Or maybe she should just trust him. Maybe this would be the time he'd follow through with a promise he'd made.

Another yawn sneaks up on her. She slides down on her seat and rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands. 

Maybe she should accept Harry's offer and take a quick nap on his shoulder. She brushed the idea off minutes ago, but now she can't deny it sounds really tempting. 

God… How is she supposed to spend two days on a yacht? She's never been on one before. She also hasn't been around all her friends in a very long time… 

Is she going to be able to interact with them? Because if they're expecting her to act the same way she used to before getting married… Well, they'll be extremely disappointed.

The only thing about Aurora that'll resemble those old days are the clothes Maddie packed for her. 

Shit. Oh shit. Oh… Fuck! Her clothes. No, no, no. Shit! She is going to kill Madison. 

She can't wear all those clothes in front of Harry! There is no fucking way she'll walk in front of him in a bikini, or wearing those silk and backless dresses. There is absolutely no fucking way she's going to wear those tops that almost don't cover her breasts in front of him. 

Well, not just in front of him, of course…

She's thinking about Harry because he's the one with her right now, but she doesn't want to wear those clothes in front of anyone. Not just him. 

It isn't even about the people, really. It's about her body. A body that has changed a lot through the years. 

Oh, boy… She needs to sleep. She can't start spiraling about how unsexy she's been feeling for years. It's not the moment for that. It's not what the weekend is about. 

"Are you sleeping with your eyes open?" Harry's low and deep voice sounds right next to her ear, and Aurora jumps on her seat. 

Harry chuckles behind her, then makes his way around her seat. 

"Shit," she murmurs, taking her hand to her chest, but a shaky laugh still leaves her mouth. "You scared me."

He stops in front of her and furrows his brows, then tilts his head to the side and curves his mouth into a cheeky smile, narrowing his eyes to look at her. 

"What?" she asks. 

He doesn't move, though. 

And he also doesn't stop staring at her. 

Aurora shifts on her seat. 

But the staring still doesn't stop.

"Harry!" She chuckles, and looks away. 

And he still doesn't even flinch.

Oh, c'mon! That's ridiculous. 

It's like going back to university, honestly. He used to do the same when they were younger, usually at a pub or a club. He would stare at her like that until she stumbled over her own words, or until she forgot what she was about to do. He thought it was hilarious, but she never understood the point of it. 

"Knock it off, will ya?" She crosses her arms on top of her chest and rolls her eyes. "I was just thinking."

Harry (finally) laughs, face lighting up again — with dimples and wrinkles and almost fully-closed eyes.

He moves his arm, and puts a paper cup in front of her face. 

Aurora snaps her brows together.

"Sorry, love, I was just testing my skills," he says.

Aurora flinches her head back.

Why is he shoving that cup in her eyes? 

And also… "What skills?"

He shrugs. "Y'know, to rile you up just by looking at you." 

Harry presses his lips together, as if he can't wait to burst out laughing.

And Aurora knows that face, because Noah does the exact same thing. The cheeky little monster loves to surprise her, but he can never hold up a lie. He gives out the entire thing just by looking at her with the same excitement on his face. 

They honestly look the same. Except Noah is only four, and Harry a thirty-year-old man.

"Ha ha," she mocks him, looking away from his silly face. "You and my four-year-old son would be great friends."

"Aww!" Harry takes his seat next to her, chuckling and throwing an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer to his side. "I'm sure we would." 

She rolls her eyes. 

Harry squeezes her cheek against his chest, and she's so close to his body that she can smell the soap and cologne emanating from his skin. He smells good. Like a fresh shower. It's a nice combination, something both strong and smooth at the same time.

Shit.

She pulls away, and shakes her head. 

"It wasn't a compliment," she murmurs. 

Harry chuckles.

"Yeah, I'm aware of that." He withdraws his arm from around her shoulders and takes it back to his side, then puts his hand back in front of her face. The one holding a paper cup. "Now, this is for you."

Aurora raises her eyebrows. 

"And what's this supposed to be, exactly?" 

"Just try it." 

She doesn't make any movement to acknowledge his request, but Harry also doesn't make any movement to hint he'll stop shoving the cup on her face. Eventually, she sighs, and her entire body falls. 

"Harry…" 

"Oh, c'mon! Just a sip. Amuse me, yeah?"

Aurora glances at his hand, then back at his face. She presses lips together, then finally uncrosses her arms and lifts one of them to reach the cup, curling her fingers around it. 

For the sake of not ruining her mood, she ignores the way he cheers, or how he grins proudly before leaning his back against the backrest of his seat. She simply clutches the cup between both hands, instead, and its warmth is a high contrast with her cold skin. She can't help but hum at the feeling, and then she shivers, even her chin trembling a little. 

A timid chuckle escapes from her mouth, and she closes her eyes. She brings the cup up to her face and puts her nose close to the lid, breathing the flavor in. 

And just like that, her chest tightens. 

The smell is unmistakable, a combination between coffee and caramel that she would recognize anywhere, anytime. 

She blinks her eyes open, and turns her head to look at him. 

Harry is watching her attentively, without any traces of amusement or playfulness surrounding him anymore.

Aurora blinks a couple of times, gathering enough strength to ask him, "Did you… Did you get me a caramel coffee?" 

He nods once, only one side of his mouth lifting up. "Yeah."

She looks back at the cup in her hands, and blinks again. 

"Why?"

"I don't know," he says, softly. "Intuition, maybe. I know you already had your black coffee, but I… I don't know. I felt like you needed it? I don't know. Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, it sounds stupid. Is that okay? Hope I didn't—"

She nods rapidly — unable to speak, but also desperate for him to stop explaining himself. 

And thankfully, he does. 

Aurora doesn't know what to say about it, though. She doesn't even know if there's anything she can say about it. 

His words don't sound stupid to her. That's for sure. The thing is that Harry doesn't understand the meaning his gesture actually holds, which scares her. He was able to pick up on something she needed when she wasn't brave enough to admit it to herself in the first place. And it was something so trivial… It was just coffee. Coffee.

"Noah does that sometimes, y'know," Aurora murmurs, looking at the mass of people in front of them. She hunches down a bit, not bothering by her awful posture as she comforts herself with the hot beverage in between her hands. Changing the subject is the only way she knows how to answer him right now, so she keeps going. "Sleeping with his eyes half open. It freaks me out."

Harry hums.

"There's a name for that, isn't it?" 

His voice is as soft and calm as before, and Aurora nods.

"Yeah, nocturnal something… I don't know. I always forget the stupid word." She rolls her eyes, and a humorless laugh leaves her mouth, making her body shake. "How do people even choose these names, huh? Why bother naming it if it's gonna be some ridiculous word no-one can even pronounce?"

"That's… Yeah, I don't know. You have a point, though."

"Sorry," she whispers, looking down at her lap. "Zack drives me insane using all those terms all the time. Makes me feel stupid."

Harry doesn't say anything, but for once the silence between them doesn't feel uncomfortable. 

She exhales the frustration out of her body, taking the cup to her mouth and sipping carefully in case it burns her tongue. 

The coffee touches her lips, and its sweetness automatically invades all of her senses. Her tongue tastes the caramel, and there's something bitter behind it, but it is mostly mellow and buttery. Just like she remembers it. 

And just like that, she's remembering all of it. 

She's flooded with memories from the comfort of home, and about the fun of living. Memories with simpleminded thoughts and unpretentious actions. 

She's back to a place where she isn't scared of speaking her mind all the time, where she isn't afraid of letting people down by her silly behavior, where she isn't terrified of her personality being the embarrassment of those around her. She's back to a place where she knows her friends and family like her for who she is, and where she's proud of her because of that. 

She's full of affectionate touches, sincere words, and genuine feelings.

There's confidence inside her, and an entire world she's willing to find out. 

And when she finally gulps down the simplest sip of caramel coffee, warmth takes over her throat. It reverberates through every inch of her body, and she shivers — her body filling with goosebumps as she closes her eyes to the paradoxical feeling. 

A moment passes, and the weight of a soft textured fabric lands on her back.

"Before you say anything," Harry's deep voice murmurs next to her, and she opens her eyes to look at him. "I'm not wearing it. And it's driving me insane seeing you so cold, so please just wear it."

Aurora glances at her shoulders, finding Harry's checked jacket covering her skin. It feels good, and it feels warm. And she actually doesn't mind it. At all. But there's something about the way Harry has just talked to her that flies directly into Aurora's heart. 

Maybe it's the softness of his voice. Or maybe how worried he sounded. Or maybe the fact that he seems to pay attention to her. Or maybe just because he acts as if he knows her so well. Even after so many years without talking to her. Or seeing her.

Or maybe it's just because she's already on edge because of the damn caramel coffee he bought especially for her.

She doesn't know exactly what it is, but something in his words triggers her into instantly tearing up. She can't help the overreaction, and before she can figure out a way to hide it, the evidence of her crying falls down her cheek, and she's taking a hand up to wipe it off her.

"Auri, hey…" 

Harry's hand lands on her back. The last push she needs to turn into an emotional wreck. A sob bursts out of her chest, and she covers her mouth. Oh my God. 

"Auri, love, I'm sorry… Did I… I can get the jacket back, I didn't—"

She shakes her head and puts the coffee between her thighs, then takes both hands up to her face. She uses her palms to wipe down the tears from her cheeks, and a long and shaky sigh leaves her mouth. 

Harry takes the cup from between her legs, putting it down on the floor before shifting closer to her. His knees bump into the side of her thigh, and the hand that isn't on her back brushes softly her jaw, getting rid of another tear.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she whispers. "You're fine. You didn't… You didn't do anything wrong."

The last thing she wants is for him to see her like that. They haven't seen each other for so long… She doesn't want to welcome him back to her life with tears and drama. She also doesn't want him to feel guilty about something that has nothing to do with him. 

"Ok…" He sounds wary, and while one hand rubs circles on her back, the other grabs her hand. "What's going on, tho? What can I do to help?" 

Once again, Aurora shakes her head. "I'm… I'm fine. I think I'm just… I'm  just exhausted from not sleeping last night."

It isn't a lie, but it also isn't the truth. She doesn't want to admit how lonely she constantly feels, because she wants to learn how to be alone. It doesn't make sense to ask for help when all she wants is to learn how to not need help.

"Why didn't you sleep?" 

"It's nothing. Really… Don't worry about me, I'm just being dramatic right now."

He strokes his thumb up and down on the back of her hand, and Aurora sighs, leaning into the warmth of his jacket. 

Warmth. Apparently that's all she craves now. 

"Of course I worry about you, Auri. And I'm here if you need anything, ok?" 

She nods, but his care for her brings another wave of tears, and she hides behind one hand while the other holds tightly onto him. 

"C'mere," he murmurs, dragging the hand on her back to her shoulder and pulling her to his chest. 

She can't believe the amount of times she's been hugged by him in merely a couple of hours, but she doesn't fight him. In fact, she does quite the opposite: she snuggles into him and cries quietly. And when Harry squeezes her shoulders, she squeezes his fingers in response. 

"Talk to me, love, please. What's going on?"

She sniffs. "Nothing…"

He rubs her arm, softly and tenderly, then carefully adds, "I don't wanna force you, but I can tell something's up and I'm worried about you."

Aurora shakes her head, feeling the desperation in her body slip out of her mouth as she cries to him. "Please don't... I don't want… I don't wanna worry you, ok? I really don't. I don't want to bother you. I'm just… Overreacting. I'll be fine. I'll be—"

"Auri, that's not—"

"Yes. Yes it is. It's just—"

"Stop doing that," he says, squeezing her shoulder. "You keep shutting me off every time I try to explain myself."

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I swear. I'm sorry—"

"Auri—

"—I'm so sorry—"

"—It's okay—"

"—I really am—"

"Auri, hey!" He pulls back, grabbing her shoulders with both hands and forcing her to look at him. His eyes are warm and caring as he stares inside hers, but there's a frown all over his face that screams something different. Annoyance, perhaps? Or maybe… Frustration? "Listen to me. It's fine, ok? There's no need for you to apologize. It's fine."

She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head. "No…"

"Yes, it's fine, Auri."

"It's not—"

"Yes—" 

"No!" Aurora opens her eyes, but tears quickly blurry her sight. She blinks, and before she knows it, she's fully sobbing and crying again. "It's not fine! Ok?! I'm not… I'm not fine, Harry. I'm not! I'm falling apart and I just… It's like I can't stop… And I just… I hate it, ok? I really do… I keep letting everyone down. And I… Fuck… I have no idea how… How am I supposed to spend the entire weekend…. The entire weekend pretending my life isn't a mess right now? I just… I can't… I can't pretend… I'm not… I can't…"

There's only a beat of silence before Harry pulls her into his chest again, squeezing her shoulders while he takes a long, deep, and heavy breath in. Then exhales loudly through his nose. 

"I don't know what's going on with your life right now," he says softly, resting his chin on the top of her head and closing his eyes while she sobs into his chest. "And I know I haven't been around, but I'm here for you, ok?" 

And just like before, Aurora melts into him. She hugs his waist, and leans against his body despite the uncomfortable and public position they're in. Crying all the tears she's been holding in so far. Silently sharing with him all the hurt, the doubts, and the insecurities she's been feeling. All the blaming, the questioning, and the yelling she's been hiding. Letting him absorb the wreck she is turned into after six years of marriage. All the failures. All the mistakes. All the countless "should've done better", and also "should've tried harder".  She lets it all out. With no hold backs, nor regrets.

"And you don't have to pretend, Auri," he adds. "At least not to me. Not even a little bit. Never… Why would you even pretend, huh? I can't be there for you if you don't let me know your life's a mess, and I want to be there for you. You know I do, yeah?"

Aurora can't answer him, not when her body's turning everything inside her into tears and sobbing, but he doesn't seem to be waiting for any words. Nor reactions. He rubs her back gently, while still holding her tightly, and then just keeps talking. 

"Besides, I don't expect anything from you, so—I mean, wait… That's not—Shit. That didn't sound good."

And despite everything, despite all the pain and all the tears and all the fears, a soft and low chuckle escapes from Aurora's chest. 

"That came out wrong… It's not—It's not what I wanted to say. Because of course I expect things from you, like… You're brilliant. You're amazing. You can do amazing things if you want to, ok? I know you can. What I meant is that—That there's no pressure, y'know? That's all. And that no matter what you do or what you say, nothing will change... I mean, I haven't been around, but you don't have to pretend things are good if they aren't, y'know? I'll be your friend even if… I don't know… Even if everything's falling apart… Actually, I want to be there especially when everything's falling apart, ok? So yeah, I just—Jesus Christ." He sighs. "Fuck. Auri please tell me you know what I'm trying to say here because I'm just freaking myself out right now."

Aurora's chuckle turns into laughter, and she nods against his chest, taking one hand up to her face to wipe off the last few tears. 

"I do, yes." She clears her throat, trying to get rid of some of the scratchiness. "Relax. I got it from the beginning." 

Harry smiles and sighs again, squeezing her shoulders. "Could've said something, huh? Stop me there. Save me the embarrassment, maybe?"

"You said I kept cutting you off when you tried to explain yourself, so…" Aurora shrugs. 

"Ohh, I see. Okay." Harry laughs. "We should work on your timing, then. Smartass."

She smiles, and sniffs. "My timing's perfect. It was cute, and I was having fun."

"Of course you were."

Although she can't see him, the smile is obvious in his voice, and she sighs. A long and heavy sigh. One that's strong enough to relax her entire body, and that makes her close her eyes and drop her shoulders. 

"Thank you," she murmurs, still into his chest.

"Yeah," he murmurs back. "Anytime, love." 

There's a pause between them. And then Harry speaks again.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, to be honest… At least not right now."

"Ok…" 

Another pause, and then… 

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

She takes a deep, long breath in, then exhales while snuggling into his chest.

"Can we just… Stay like this for another minute? Just… Y'know… In silence?"

"Hm… So you want me to shut up, is that it?"

Aurora chuckles. 

"Well, I wouldn't put it like that, but…"

Harry chuckles, too. 

"'S fine. I don't mind. We can stay like this for as long as you want."

And so they do. 

They hug for a while. In silence. A tight embrace that's simple, but that's also intense enough to let her know that he's there for her. 

Aurora can't remember the last time she's been held like this, with honest tenderness and affection. The kind of hug that she doesn't question, and that comes naturally. That feels natural. 

"This was supposed to be a fun weekend," she murmurs, curling a little bit more into him and closing her eyes to avoid facing the world. "Can't believe I'm seeing you for the first time in years and already bringing all this drama to you."

Harry chuckles lightly. 

"Don't be silly, ok? We've been over this already… We're friends and this is what friends are for." He kisses the top of her head, and then rests his cheek against the same place. "Besides, we didn't leave London yet. We can still have plenty of fun."

Aurora sighs. "God. I really need to have some fun. I miss having fun."

"I'll make sure you get more than some."

He squeezes her shoulder, and Aurora smiles.

Still with her eyes closed, and pressing her ear against his chest, she listens to his heartbeat, and to the way he breathes. He isn't calm, but he is steady, and somehow comfortable. So she focuses on him, and only him. As if mimicking his rhythm, or syncing with his pace, could make everything in her life feel better. 

Harry sighs against her, and when the thumping inside him gets faster, she pulls one arm from around his waist to rest her hand on the left side of his chest. She spreads her fingers open where his heart is, and breathes in and out slowly, hoping to calm him down again. 

He takes one hand to her neck, sliding it to the back of her head and tangling his fingers with her hair. 

As he scratches her scalp, Aurora can feel every muscle of her body fully relaxing. It's soothing. And it's safe. There's no other place she would rather be right now, and she's convinced that, as long as she's holding him and he's holding her, she'll finally relax and rest like she hasn't been able to in so long. 

"Have you always been such a great hugger?" she asks, her voice as soft and as slow as her body feels.

Harry clears his throat, then murmurs, "I don't know." 

Aurora hums. 

Another moment passes, until she breaks the silence again.

"I'm sorry for being a shitty friend."

"You're not a shitty friend."

"But I am, tho. I have no idea what's going on with your life… It's been so long and I… I never reached out."

Harry sighs, and shifts on his seat. 

Aurora follows his movements, making sure the hug doesn't end even when he seems to be pulling away. 

He doesn't, though — pull away. He simply leans back on his seat, pulling her along with him. And because she's still comfortable against his chest, she doesn't see the way his face falls, how he presses his lips together in a hard line, or glares at random people passing by.

"It's fine," he eventually says. 

And she's so focused on her own past behavior, that she also doesn't notice the slight change in his voice.

"It's not, though."

"I never reached out either, did I? And I should have… I just… I should have." 

She fidgets with the fabric of his shirt, and although it takes her a moment to answer, the words fly easily out of her mouth. "I'm not sure if it would've made any difference, to be honest… I've pushed everyone away, would've done the same to you." 

"There's no fucking way I would've let you."

"It wouldn't be up to you, tho."

A ding-ding-dong blares from the speakers in the lounge area. 

"Attention passengers on Ryanair flight 1832 to Naples, we are now ready for boarding at gate 56. Passengers on Ryanair flight 1832 to Naples, we are now ready for boarding at gate 56. Boarding is for business class and passengers with…"

The attendant's voice fades as Aurora stops paying attention to it. She blinks her eyes open and, against her wishes, pulls away from Harry's arms.

"Finally," she breathes out.

When she looks at him, she finds nothing but honesty and affection inside his eyes, and it's enough to make her heart skip a beat. 

She curves her lips into a smile, then brings her hands up to wipe the dry tears from her cheeks. "Thank you."

Harry smiles, too. "You've said that already."

"I know." She nods, dropping her hands back to her lap. "I just… Thank you, really. For now and… And for the coffee. Even though I forgot to drink it."

He takes one hand to her face, and puts some of her hair behind her ear.

"We'll have time for another one," he says, then stares into her eyes again. "Yeah?"

"Yeah…" She gulps down, captivated by his gaze. "I think… I think it'd be nice if we could catch up, right? I mean, there's so much about you that I don't know…" 

Harry smiles, although it doesn't reach his eyes. 

"There isn't anything crazy to know about me."

Aurora furrows her brows. 

"Well I don't need crazy information, Harry," she scoffs, making sure the tone of her voice is carrying some playfulness while she rolls her eyes. "I just wanna know what's up with your life… Where do you live? Do you have any dogs, or cats? Where do you work? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you have any kids? Are you married? I don't know…"

Harry stares blankly at her for a moment, then looks away, reaching for their bags. 

"Those are too many questions, love."

Aurora shrugs. 

"Well, yeah…" She leans down and picks up her coffee. The cup feels cold, and although she's sad she didn't get to drink it, she wouldn't change anything about what happened in the last… Well, however long it's been since they got here. "I know. I'm curious. That's why I said it'd be nice to catch up."

She stands up and rearranges Harry's jacket, putting it on properly so it doesn't fall from her shoulders, then waits while he stands as well, picking their bags from the seat next to his.

"Ok, yeah. Sure. We can catch up." 

"Wow." She snorts and widens her eyes. "Calm down, now. Don't sound sooo excited, please."

Harry laughs. He puts his own bag on his shoulder, and she takes hers from his hand. 

"I'd love for us to catch up, Auri. I really would."

"Okay…" She narrows her eyes at him, putting her bag on her shoulder and walking towards the line. "Are you hiding something from me?"

Harry follows her, grabbing his boarding pass and passport from the front pocket of his bag. "Why would I hide something from you?"

"I don't know…" She throws the coffee cup away, then adds, "Maybe you're working with the FBI. Or, maybe you're married to someone who works for the FBI. Ohhhhh," — she widens her eyes, looking at him while he leads their way to the gate — "or maybe, you're married to someone who's being investigated by the FBI!"

Harry chuckles through his nose. He sneaks his hands inside Aurora's bag, pulling her boarding pass and passport from it.

"There's no FBI involved, I promise," he says, handing her the items. 

"Hmmm…" She grabs her things from his hand, and nibbles her bottom lip before asking, "But you're married to someone?" 

"Nop." 

"Okay… Dating to someone?"

He shakes his head, and Aurora nods.

"Are relationships a touchy subject, maybe?"

Harry smirks, and that's more than enough to give Aurora an answer, but she still waits for him to say something. 

Anything.

"I broke up with someone not too long ago." He shrugs. "So I'm not in the mood for relationships right now, to be honest. And that includes talking about it." 

The line moves quickly, and they take a step forward. 

"Oh, sure. Yeah. I get it. Of course." Aurora nods. "I'm sorry, tho. Y'know, that it didn't work out."

He shrugs, and they walk again.

"'S fine." 

The shift in his behavior is loud and clear, and it bothers her. The idea of someone breaking Harry's heart deep enough for the pain to overshadow his excitement and dull the brightness of his smile doesn't feel right. So it bothers her. It really does. Whoever it was, he surely deserved someone much better. He surely deserves someone better.

A flight attendant welcomes them with a grin and a cheerful good morning. Aurora smiles back, and hands him her passport and boarding pass, then waits for him to return them. He wishes her a safe flight, and repeats the same process with Harry. 

Aurora waits for him in silence, and once they're both ready to walk through the airgate, she picks the conversation back on. 

"I'm sure you'll find someone, y'know? It won't be that hard. You're still young, and dating was never a problem for you, so…"

There's a pause, and then Harry snorts. "Dating was never a problem for me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Y'know… That's what you, Niall and Jayden used to do all the time, wasn't it? Dating and… Flirting and hooking up with everyone?"

Harry stops walking and turns to stare at her in silence, with widened eyes and flared nostrils. 

Aurora stops, too, biting her lip to hold back her amusement while waiting for him to say something. 

He doesn't, but he eventually laughs, throwing his head back and making her fully smile at him. He shakes his head, and starts walking again.

"Jeez, Auri, I'm so offended right now."

"Oh c'mon…" She chuckles, following his steps. "I meant it as a compliment, okay? Like… Girls were always into you, that's all."

"Not all girls, though."

"Fine." She shrugs. "Ninety-five percent of them, then."

He snorts again. "Ok."

"How old were you when we met? Twenty? Twenty-one?"

"Nineteen."

"Oh shit, really?"

"Yeah, it was my second year. Why?"

"Nothing. I think… For a moment I just forgot you're so much younger than me, that's all."

"C'mon, not so much, I'm almost thirty now."

"Well, yes, but I'm thirty-five."

"See? Same age."

She chuckles. "We're not the same age."

"Ok, but almost."

"Not even close, Harry."

"Oh c'mon! Then what are you now? Ancient? Should I call you grandma?"

She chuckles. "Well… I do feel ancient, to be honest."

He rolls his eyes. "This is ridiculous. You're just as young as I am."

She shakes her head. 

"Yeah, I mean, I know that… But I don't know… I mean, talking to you right now I don't feel like you're younger, y'know? Let alone that much. But also—"

"It's not that much."

"No, I know. But if you think about it, I already got married and I have a four-year-old at home, so like, I really am too old and—What?" Harry is frowning at her, and she tilts her head. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shrugs, then faces forward, away from her. "I'm trying to decide if I should kick your ass right now or just throw you into the ocean later."

She gasps, but then she chuckles. "What? Whyyy?"

Harry raises his eyebrows at her. "I'm only five years younger than you, Auri. Five. It's not even a big deal."

She sighs.

The line in front of them moves, and they move forward as well. 

"Sorry. You're right. Like I said, it doesn't feel like it right now, but I think… I don't know. When you were 19 and I was 24 it was different, yeah? I mean, we were in different stages of our lives. I was meeting Zack and you were—" 

"Yes, I know. I was there, remember?" 

She swallows down, and nods. 

"Sorry," she repeats, much softer this time. 

Aurora walks in silence, staring at the plane at the end of the hallway. 

She pretends to ignore the way Harry keeps glancing at her, or how he rubs the back of his neck, or how he rolls his shoulders. She knows she bothered him, and the idea of causing a scene when they're about to get into a plane feels terrifying. She should've kept her mouth shut, that way she wouldn't have them put them in that situation. Again.

It's like she's been riding on a rollercoaster she never knew she would get into in the first place. Going through multiple sudden changes of speed and directions. Slowly climbing a steep slope and painfully anticipating the fall before she actually drops directly into the ground. Holding herself during the unexpected tight turns and sharp curves, and gasping for air at every inverted loop. Experiencing the ups and downs of gravity as she's weightless and happy at the top of the hill, then all of a sudden her own personality is pushing her back down to reality. And by the end of it, the back of her throat hurts, her stomach feels funny, and there's just heaviness all over her body. 

"Hey," Harry calls. 

He shifts his bag from one shoulder to the other and puts his arm around her, pulling her closer even though they're still walking. He kisses the top of her head, and keeps his lips there as he speaks. "'M sorry. Shouldn't have cut you off like that."

Aurora shrugs. "It's fine." 

"It's not. We were just joking and I… I took it personally, 'm sorry."

He kisses her head, again, and her lashes flutter. 

She knows he's sorry, but she doesn't know what to say to him. She knows how easy it is for her to forgive when she shouldn't, and how many times in the last six years she believed in empty apologies. 

So although she knows, she isn't sure she can trust herself. 

She hasn't been trusting herself for a while now. 

A new flight attendant welcomes them into the plane, and they both pull away from each other.

Aurora walks in front of Harry, and she does her best to smile genuinely at the cheerful woman that's wishing them a good morning and a good flight. 

She holds the strap of her bag tightly on her shoulder, and walks through the narrow carpeted aisle, focusing on the numbers and letters above the seats as if she's looking for specific ones. She pauses here and there for other passengers that are getting settled, and it's only past the emergency door that Harry speaks again.

"Should we sit here?" he asks. He's pointing to the opposite side where she's facing, so she turns around, finding three empty seats.  

"Okay." 

She nods, and tilts her chin up to check the space to put her bag. Harry is quicker, though, because he is already closing his fingers around the strap on her shoulder and pushing it away from her arm.

"I'll put our bags together, yeah?" 

She doesn't want to fight him about it, so she simply thanks him with the best smile she can offer and allows him to easily grab her duffel bag. 

She slides through the two empty seats to reach the one by the window, not waiting any longer to secure the seat belt and make herself comfortable. Once she's settled, she clasps her hands together, and takes a deep breath in. Her chin trembles, and she looks down, biting the inside of her cheek. She doesn't want to cry again. She really doesn't want to cry again.

Also, she needs to sleep. She must get some sleep. There is absolutely no way she is going to handle spending the entire day awake, and if she doesn't sleep now, she'll only get an opportunity again at the yacht — meaning she won't get to spend any time with her friends. 

Harry sits next to her and puts his own belt on, then turns off his phone and shoves it into his pocket. Aurora doesn't look at him, but he turns sideways anyway, leaning his shoulder on the back of the seat and blocking them from any possible curious eyes. 

He grabs one of her hands from her lap and takes her fingers to his mouth, placing a long kiss to her knuckles before sighing. 

"Auri, love," his voice is soft, and a whisper for only them to hear, "I really am sorry." 

She nods, taking her free hand to wipe a tear before it could roll down her cheek.  

Shit.

"Please, don't cry."

"Mhm."

"Auri… Look at me, please."

She shakes her head, then. Because she knows that she'll fall apart all over again if she looks at him.

God, she's so tired.

"I didn't…" she murmurs, then takes a deep breath and tries again. "I didn't mean anything bad by the age thing… I promise."

"I know that, love. Of course I know," he says, pressing another kiss to her hand. "Fuck. I know. We were just joking. And I'm not mad about it, I promise. I mean, I was actually a stupid hormonal teenager back when we met, so yeah… You're right, things were different. But please, Auri, I hate that I made you cry just because I… Shit, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. It wasn't about you, I promise."

She stares at her knees and nods, because she knows he is. And she also knows she can trust him, which is probably why she — finally — honestly blurts out, "I keep messing everything up, y'know? All the time."

He brushes his thumb on the back of her hand, then murmurs back to her, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just… I keep letting everyone down, and I hate it, but it's like I can't stop it. And I mean, to be honest I don't… I don't even recognize myself anymore. I used to have so much fun, and I felt so different about life… And I treated people around me so differently… And now I'm just… I don't know… I don't know why I say things, or why I do things. I don't know what I want, or what to do with my life… And I feel so… Lonely… All the damn time. But I get why I'm lonely, y'know? I mean it's true that I don't know how to be anything else besides being Noah's mum. And I'm so insensitive to other people because of that, and I keep saying things I shouldn't and I just… I look back and I realize how I pushed everyone away… How I… I don't know, I'm so tired of this. I'm just so tired of myself."

There is a pause between them, mostly because Harry's waiting for the people in front of them to settle and stop prying at their conversation. 

It's good, though, because it gives her time to catch her breath again.

And then, Harry leans deeper into his seat, still holding tightly to her hand.

"Is that how he made you feel?"

Aurora furrows her brows. "What—Who?"

"Zack. Is that how Zack made you feel?"

"I… No! Why—I mean, I'm just… I'm talking about myself." 

"Auri, c'mon… I know you're talking about yourself, but I can read between the lines."

She closes her eyes and takes her hand up to her face, rubbing her forehead while she prepares herself to just keep blurting out what her mind is begging her to tell him.

"I think…" she says, dropping her hand back to her lap and blinking. "I think he really messed me up, y'know?"

Harry sighs. 

It takes him a moment to say something. A moment that feels really, really long to her. 

And then… 

"Fuck." He puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her to his chest, murmuring while resting his cheek on the back of her head, "I'm sorry."

She shrugs, snuggling into him and searching for his heartbeat, just like before.

"'S not your fault."

"But I should've been there for you."

"You wouldn't have known." 

"Still… This isn't how it was supposed to be." 

God, she's so tired… 

Her entire body is heavy, and she doesn't even know what's happening around them anymore. She can't even make sense of their conversation anymore. 

Harry feels too cozy, though, and she knows she's about to have the comfiest sleep of her life — she can feel it.  

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"I got divorced six months ago."

Harry closes his eyes, then rearranges himself on his seat and pulls her closer to him.

"I know."

.

.

.

"You know? How?" 

"Niall."

"Oh. Okay?" 

"I texted him while you were getting your coffee."

She places her hands on his hips, holding her weight to pull away from him. 

Harry doesn't let her, though, squeezing her inside of his arms and locking her in. 

"Please stay," he murmurs. 

And Aurora doesn't fight him. She just relaxes again — she relaxes and listens to him. 

"You weren't wearing a ring… And I could tell something was up, so I… I asked him. That's all. Sorry if I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it. I needed to know."

"Oh…" The concept of time is foggy inside her mind, but she's pretty sure a few seconds go by before she speaks again. "'S okay, I guess. I mean… Niall knows about the divorce, but he doesn't… He doesn't know the whole story. He doesn't know how bad it was."

"Does anyone know?"

"You?" She chuckles, but it's humorless, because she knows that not even Harry truly knows. "I just… I haven't been able to talk about it yet, or like… Process it, I think. I don't know. I keep justifying him a lot, which I'm learning it's something I shouldn't do."

He makes his cheek comfortable on top of her head, then takes one hand to play with her hair, scratching her scalp. "It can't be easy to go through something like this on your own, tho."

"I know…" She closes her eyes, appreciating his affectionate touch. "My mum's helping me a lot… She had to go back home now, but she spent over a month with me. Makes sure I don't skip therapy… Stuff like that."

"Hmm…" Harry says, and his voice echoes inside her body. "Always liked her. Smart one."

Aurora curls her mouth up. "Yeah…" 

Another moment goes by, and Aurora is filled with lightness as her body slowly drifts into sleep. 

"Thank you for telling me this, Auri."

"Mhmm… It's weird… To like, talk about it."

"I'll always listen. Whenever you want to talk about it, I'll listen."

"Thank you… 'M really tired, tho... And I think my brain is going to explode…"

Harry chuckles. "Get some sleep, yeah? I'll wake you up when we're about to land."

"'Mkay." She hugs his waist, and nuzzles against his chest. "Can't believe this all happened and we didn't even leave the country yet."

"Tell me about it."

"Mm… 'Kay… I'll sleep now… You're comfy… And I think… I feel drunk…"

Chuckling again, Harry presses a kiss on the top of her head, then slides down a bit on his seat, and she cuddles a little bit more into him.

"Ok love," he says. "You can relax now, I got you." 

And although Aurora doesn't answer, she knows he does. 

She doesn't need Harry to wake her up. 

Her brain drifts back to consciousness by itself, slowly making her aware of her surroundings way before the plane is even close to landing. 

She's warm, because of Harry's arms wrapped around her shoulders, but also because of his jacket covering her body. Her face is pressed against his shirt, and once again she's breathing from his skin. He still smells good — like a fresh shower — but now it's also mixed with a little bit of sweat, so it's somehow even better than before. 

It's hot. He's hot. Her insides feel hot.

She's also comfortable — so, so comfortable. It feels like she just took the best nap of her entire life. Like she's enveloped by a sense of calm and peace, a feeling that she doesn't want at all to end. Snuggled into his chest while his fingers keep playing with her hair, tracing random patterns on the back of her head. The movements are sweet, sweet enough to tempt her to go back to sleep. And she almost does. 

Except she can't. Not anymore. 

Because above all that, she can tell she's also kind of desperate. Clingy. Needy. Hugging his waist as if their flight landing in Italy depended on how tight her grip is. Both of her legs over his left thigh. His strong, firm thigh. She's holding onto him like a baby koala. A troubled one. A baby koala that's craving to be held by someone. Anyone. And as if she's terrified of the idea of being left behind while her mind shuts off from the real world. 

And maybe she is. Who knows.

She always liked to cuddle, and she hasn't properly cuddled in a really long time, so it's not a surprise. Still, it very quickly becomes embarrassing, and certainly not how Harry imagined things to go when, earlier in the airport, he offered his shoulder for her to take a quick nap. 

He offered his shoulder, not his entire body, for fucks sake!

So, against all wishes, Aurora stirs and groans — mostly because her mind is battling between sleeping for just two more minutes or acknowledging the reality of the world she's in — then pulls away from him. 

"Hmm…" She takes her hands up to her face, and rubs the last traces of sleepiness away from her puffy eyes, then sits back on her seat. "What time is it?" 

Next to her, Harry moves as well, withdrawing his arms from around her shoulders and placing his hands on his lap. 

"Must be around ten thirty now… Last time I checked was ten fifteen."

He sounds calm, so calm that she can't make any emotion out of his voice, so she turns her head to look at him.

Harry looks fully awake. Well rested. Peaceful. Soft. The only sign of him turning into her personal pillow are the wrinkles all over his shirt, but everything else looks… Perfect. Like heaven. He looks like heaven.   

"Hi…" He curls one side of his mouth up, and Aurora smiles, too.

"Hi…"

Only then it occurs to her that she's been staring at him, and she looks away, taking her hands to smooth out her hair then fix her dress.

"Did you sleep well?"

She nods, and takes his jacket off, instead using it like a blanket to cover her chest.

"Um, yeah… I did. Thanks. And thanks for… You know… Letting me crush on you? I mean, it probably wasn't comfortable for you, so… Yeah, thanks."

Harry scoffs, shuffling down on his seat and spreading his legs as wide open as he can. 

"Are you kidding me?" He takes both arms up and places his hands behind his head, resting on top of the palm of his hands. "You're a great cuddler. Went straight to my top five of all time."

The playfulness is clear in his words, which is why Aurora chuckles. Still, one question is loud and clear inside her mind: who are the other four great cuddlers? And most importantly, why isn't she his favorite one? 

The thoughts bring an uncomfortable feeling to her stomach, and she shifts on her seat. 

"That's kind of you to say, but you should see me during winter in the middle of the night… I'm like a baby koala and it's not a very pretty sight." 

"Huh." He smirks, and lifts his eyebrows. "Is that an offer?"

Aurora snorts and rolls her eyes, feeling her cheeks burn before she looks away. "Shut up."

Harry laughs, and just like that, everything between them goes back to normal. 

Getting into conversation with him is easy. Neither of them have seen their friends in a while, so they distract themselves by reminiscing old stories and laughing at silly things they used to do together. They also talk about Italy, about how neither of them have been to the country before, and how it's been a dream of both of them. They bond over small details, and find connections over silly things. And it's exactly what Aurora needs, as she finds out after minutes and minutes of light conversation and genuine giggles. 

It is only when they're about to land that her face falls again. 

Fully awake, the airplane movements become way more obvious than they did when taking off. And as soon as the belt sign goes on, and the pilot announces they're about to descend to Naples, Aurora's heartbeat speeds up.

She straightens up and leans her back fully against her seat, looking through the window at the bright sky. 

"Are you ok?" Harry asks. 

"Mhm…" She nods, and doesn't take her eyes off from the view. "Just… I don't like this part very much, that's all."

"Wanna hold my hand?" 

It is a nice offer, but one she doesn't think she should accept. So she doesn't. And as the plane gets closer and closer to land, every movement becomes even more clear. When it shakes, when it turns, when it's getting ready to touch the ground. 

She holds herself until the last minute. She holds herself tightly and firmly. Until it becomes too much, and one specific up and down of the airplane has her reaching for his hand.

It's like Harry is already waiting for her, to be honest, because she finds him quickly. Her sweaty and cold palm meets his warm one, and she turns her head to look at him. 

He's already watching her, and as soon as their eyes meet, his face lights up with a smile. 

Her belly quivers, and her chest tightens. 

"It'll be over in a minute," he says, squeezing her hand.

She nods, and swallows down, because it's the only thing she can do right now. She knows what he's talking about, and she knows it's true — they'll land, and everything will pass. 

Although something tells her that, whatever she's feeling right now, will not go away. It won't be over in a minute. It won't be over even when they're out and away from the plane. 

In fact, she's starting to believe that, as soon as Harry is next to her, looking at her like that, the fluttering in her stomach will never go away. 

if you've made it here, say caramel coffee :')

also, thank you for reading.

dani :)

PART THREE