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#i love how far gone he looks when pen simply runs a hand through his hair.... feral
safetycar-restart · 1 year
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So. I saw a certain tweet of George going into the Mclaren motorhome with Lando. Thoughts? Well mine is that you are Lando's dom. George's dom treats him badly and Lando hates seeing his friend hurting. So he drags him back to see you so he can submit and feel better. He sees how good Charles and Pierre's poly relationship is for them and he wants that too! 🐇
Please I love the image of Lando just stealing George. He’s just like “nope, mine now” and fucking takes him. Shoutout to the poor mclaren media person who left Lando alone for two minutes and came back to find Lando had kidnapped one of their competitors. I'm gonna tag this as 'd/s au - poly!George/lando' cause i really like this idea and i'd love to hear more about it and for it to be its own au!!
Firstly, lando's original plan was to simply murder the Mercedes dominant, but he figured that would probably take a lot of planning and isnt really his thing (AKA: Alex refused to help).
George is pretty good at hiding how much he's hurting, how his dom clearly isnt giving him what he needs. But Lando can still tell.
His suspicions are confirmed one evening when he's at dinner with George and George asks him if he gets berated for needing more attention from his dom. Lando's heart just breaks for his friend (okay yes he's had a crush on George for years but George doesn't know that so it's still friend). Lando thinks about all the times George has stared longingly at you and him, how George averted his eyes when Lando would catch him watching.
Then there was the time that you joined them for lunch (Lando had just had a scene with you and he didnt want to part from you just yet) and George had insisted on paying. You had thanked George sincerely, telling him you really appreciated it and George was beaming for the rest of the day.
And then Lando thinks about whatever the fuck charles and Pierre have going on with charles's team and just... yeah he needs to kidnap George.
This all comes to a head during a media pen session. Lando was already in the media pen when George arrived, and George looked so fucking sad. His eyes were red like he had been crying, and he was gripping his water bottle so hard his hand was shaking.
Lando thought back to how George's session had gone, and as far as he knew George did well. There was nothing on track that would warrant George being like that, and Lando knows there's only one other thing that could do that: his dom.
Lando decides right then and there that George needs to come back with him and scene with you.
You have no idea how Lando manages to sneak George out from under the eyes of the entire media pen and his own media person, but somehow he did because you walk into his driver room and find George sitting on the couch with Lando.
At first you think that George is just hanging out with Lando, but then you see that Lando has his arm wrapped around George and seems to be comforting him. You ask what's happened, and George looks up in fright. The poor thing honestly looks like he's about to bolt out the door, but you're standing in the way of that.
Lando starts to explain, well he just says that George really needs a nice dom and then gives you his best puppy dog eyes and damnit you are powerless to deny him.
The saddest part is honestly how the smallest thing makes George so so happy? You run your hands through his hair, asking if he's going to be a good boy and he nods to quickly its comical. The smile on his face when you kiss his forehead in response is heartbreaking. A well cared for sub shouldn't be reacting this way to a mere forehead kiss from an unknown dom.
You treat George as well as you can, cuddling him and letting Lando suckle on his cock, praising him the entire time and encouraging him to fall apart in your arms. He's floating in subspace for the rest of the night, cuddled between you and Lando.
George is absolutely mortified when he wakes up the next morning and thinks back to how he acted. But at the same time, he can't remember the last time he was this well rested? He never wants to leave this bed.
Needless to say, George starts to come back.
At first it's just Lando dragging George along to scenes and George pretending that he's annoyed by this and hasn't been counting down the days until a race weekend because he might be able to scene with you and lando again. But eventually, George starts to accept that you and Lando actually love being with him and he starts to seek you two out on his own accord.
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Day.16 Water - Sawtober/Sawcember
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warning : angst, hurt/comfort, hydrophobia
Sawtober/Sawcember masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The weather is a natural phenomenon and the predictions of weather experts and researchers can only be interpreted. It has happened more than once that it started to rain even though it was high summer or that it snowed in the fall when the leaves started to turn colorful.
But what were initially just annoying and yet somehow pretty weather phenomena had become an inner burden for Agent Strahm.
Since he had woken up in the water trap, since he had felt the cold metal on his neck and his screams had not come out of the box, he seemed to have changed. Not only did his neck still hurt from the hole he had to ram into it with his pen, it was the fear of being surrounded by water again.
The renewed fear of hearing the loud splashing noise that rumbled in his ears, of being helpless and suffocating. A fear he didn't have before - he loved swimming, diving, bathing and showering.
But since he had been discharged from hospital, he had avoided water as much as possible. The shower was hardly ever on and only minimal drops flowed down, prolonging his showers by hours. A fact he denied and dismissed with an
,,I'm fine" every time in front of his boyfriend but he saw the skeptical look on Hoffman's face and knew he knew he had a problem. A problem that couldn't simply be solved, even if his partner disagreed. For Mark it was a simple matter of how to get Peter back under water.
Which is why he came up with a little plan, because he wasn't going to put himself through another couple of hours waiting for his friend in the shower.
Without knowing what it would do to Peter, he would take the risk. The two of them drove to work, as they did every day, and he knew that Strahm kept checking the weather forecast on his cell phone.
Strahm used the large umbrella that was actually intended for two people on his own. ,,Don't worry so much, it's only a few meters to the station," Hoffman said, taking one hand off the steering wheel and placing it on his boyfriend's thigh.
Nevertheless, he could feel the tension in the brown-haired man who didn't want to leave the safety of the car in the rain. ,,Yes-yes... I'll manage," Strahm replied, but his heart was beating wildly as he somehow tried to get out of the car with the half-open umbrella and run to the main door faster than necessary. He winced as he felt the drops of water on his neck and wheeled around.
He saw that Mark had given him the few drops and seemed to want to give him more. ,,Hoffman, don't you dare!" hissed Strahm, shielding himself with his umbrella before hurrying into the station and hearing his friend's grin.
At least that's how it looked from the outside, that Hoffman didn't take his boyfriend's illness seriously, but in reality it was his fault that it was haunting him. Guilt that he hadn't simply recognized Strahm, that he hadn't simply told him that he knew who had set him up.
That it was Lawrence and not Jigsaw. Lawrence the medical genius knew exactly how to get everything out of his victims, both mentally and physically.
But even though Hoffman was initially against it, he knew that interfering would only complicate things. And he wanted to avoid any more complications at all costs.
I'll fix it, the brown-haired man thought to himself and wiped the raindrops off his jacket before he went inside too, because in the end he was just Mark Hoffman the friendly policeman and not Jigsaw.
He just had to find the right mix of both with Peter to help him. Which he did, even if Strahm didn't like it. He would have to get through it.
And when the two men got home, the story had gone on far too long again and they had taken Asian food with them, the last thing Strahm thought about was water, or rather the shower.
,,Did they mix up my sauces?" asked Strahm, leaning back on the couch with his noodles and glad to be back safely in the house.
They both always took the same thing and of course Hoffman knew exactly what his friend wanted because if Strahm didn't cook, Hoffman was screwed.
Instant soup and pasta was the only thing he could manage, but everything else would turn into a cooking lesson with his friend. ,,No, I don't think it's the same as always," Mark said dismissively, looking back at the screen and the ticking clock.
It must be working he thought and shoveled another spoonful of rice and chicken into his mouth. He knew it wasn't the sauce that tasted different, it was the crushed sleeping pills. Lawrence's special recipe as he remembered when the blond had given it to him.
Maybe it was his now somewhat radical conviction to persuade the human mind to do something he was afraid of, or maybe it was just a touch of madness in him.
But he had already heard the third yawn from his peer and knew that it was only a matter of time. He looked back at the screen, but after a few more minutes he heard the clink of the fork falling to the floor as Strahm fell asleep.
,,Time for a test," Hoffman mumbled and carefully placed his and Peter's food on the table before carrying his friend's body as gently as he could into the bathroom.
The shower wasn't huge but there was enough room for them to stand next to each other, but they didn't have to. He leaned Strahm carefully against the wall under the shower head and looked at his friend for a moment.
His shirt slightly unbuttoned and his tie hanging out of his trousers, a tired expression even in his sleep. And yet he was overcome with guilt again when he saw the scar on his friend's neck.
He moved his fingers carefully over it and felt the scarred tissue. ,,I'm sorry," he murmured as he let go of the scar and left a gentle kiss on it before turning on the shower and closing the door.
He waited for Peter to wake up and sat in front of him as best he could and looked at him, he would stay with him and show him that water didn't mean death.
The water had already almost completely soaked his shirt and he could see it sticking to his friend's skin and his pants. But he knew he didn't look any better himself, his hair hanging down as he leaned over to Peter and slapped him lightly on the cheek to wake him up.
,,Peter...come on...wake up," he said slowly, seeing how he woke up again after a few moments and was confused for a split second before he let out a cry of fear. ,,Get out of the way!" he shouted at Mark as he felt the water splashing down on him, grabbing Mark's shoulder and trying to push him aside.
There was sheer fear in his dark eyes. But Mark was quicker to grab the other's arms and pull him into a tight hug.
A hug that didn't let him escape, ,,It's okay, I'm here," he said and heard the echoing screams and pleas to let him go, he seemed like a frightened dog trying to crawl into a corner.
,,No! No! Let me fucking go Hoffman!" Peter continued to scream at him and tried to free himself, clawing and scratching at anything he could find, hitting and biting at a sight that stung Mark. Because he was indirectly responsible. He had done this to Peter.
Which is why he just pulled him even tighter and kept talking to him, hoping it would just stop at some point. That Peter would have to calm down at some point.
The special agent kicked his legs and managed to get the glass door of the shower to crack. ,,Peter, I'm here, you're not drowning, don't you hear me," said Mark, easing up a little as he felt the attempts to escape diminish and Strahn looked at his work with a shocked expression.
The splintered door, Hoffman's body with several bloody scratches and even a bite. But then he saw tears welling up in Strahm's eyes as he realized that it was finally over.
He carefully put a hand on his boyfriend's cheek, ,,What-What have I done? Forgive me," he murmured and Hoffman returned the hug and Mark hugged him.
The two of them were still being hit by the water, but neither of them cared, it was the overcoming that mattered.
And while Strahm told him over and over again, ,,I love you", it was Hoffman who had to fight back the tears as he looked at the slightly bloody water and only said, ,,I'm sorry I did this to you" and hugged him even tighter.
They had both repented in the water only to come out again at the end. In love and not brokenness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@a-reading-dreamer , @megustadilf , @klarise , @misslavenderlady , @mysunfishpeedinmyroom
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thewillofdeez · 1 year
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Worth the Risk: A Smoker/OC Romance - Chapter 3: Decisions
Summary: Kuzan forces Smoker into a much-needed, but not wanted, vacation. While there, Smoker runs into a pirate who's been eluding his capture for years. They decide to put their differences aside, just for a little, and as it turns out, two people don't have to be enemies just because they're a pirate and a Marine. They might even fall in love.
Chapter 2 word count: 5430
Smoker awoke several hours later, his arm still wrapped around Ruby. She was soundly asleep, her lips curled up in the slightest smile. He spent a few minutes enjoying the feeling of her body next to his, then slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her. He dressed and found a pen and paper, scrawling out a note:
Ruby,
Went to grab my stuff. Couldn’t bring myself to wake you. I’ll be back soon.
Smoker paused for a moment at the end of the note. His inclination was to sign it with “love,” but he knew that was far too soon. He wasn’t even sure if that’s what this was. Shaking the thought from his head, he simply signed it “S” and left it on the pillow next to her. Smoker then quietly slipped out the front door, closing it gently behind him.
It was roughly early afternoon, and the town was as busy as it had been yesterday. With his hands in his pockets, Smoker made his way toward the marina, recalling the events of the night before.
She was incredible. No woman he’d ever been with had made him feel this way. Like his heart would burst out of his chest and electricity was shooting through his veins. Everything about her, from the way they spoke, to the way their bodies connected felt right in a way he couldn’t describe. Is this what it was like to be in love? He had no frame of reference for it, no idea what it would actually feel like. But it felt great. It felt right.
And yet, it absolutely was not right, and he knew that. If anyone found out he’d been dallying with a pirate, especially one with a bounty like Ruby’s, he could easily be demoted, or worse, dishonorably discharged. His whole career could be gone. In general, doing anything that wasn’t actively fighting with a pirate was a big no for the Marines. There had been some exceptions over time, of course - Vice Admiral Garp was well-known for working with Gold Roger at God Valley to bring down the Rocks Pirates. But that was a very, very rare exception. He never thought he’d be the kind of Marine to want to be around a pirate in a non-military capacity. Even if that pirate was gorgeous and kind and apparently really liked him.
She was still a pirate. He was still a Marine. No matter what they had agreed upon the night before. In two weeks, life would go right back to the way it was. Forcing back the logical part of his brain that told him to end it immediately, he was determined to enjoy every second he could get with her. What would happen in two weeks when he had to return to base, they’d figure out later. He felt too good - she felt too good - for him to just give it up immediately. This was his vacation, and goddammit he deserved to enjoy himself.
Smoker reached the boat and gathered his things, stuffing them into a large duffel bag. Some items like his motorcycle would remain there until he needed them, but he had enough to get by. He then made his way back through town. Two blocks from Ruby’s house, he came upon a flower stall manned by a plump older woman, her dark hair tied back in a long braid. Would that be too cheesy, getting her flowers? He wondered. Don’t you usually buy someone flowers first then sleep with them? He decided to stop and look anyway.
“You’re looking for something for Ruby?” the older woman asked.
Smoker looked at her, but had no idea what to say. How could she know?
The woman laughed. “I’m Inez, I live across the street from her. I was leaving my house this morning and saw you with her. I’m assuming you had a good night?” Smoker blushed deeply, which only made the woman laugh. “This town owes her a debt, and you’d do well to take care of her. Here.” The woman brushed past Smoker and went around the side of the stall. From a table, she picked up a pot filled with tall, delicate purple orchids and handed it to him. “She likes potted plants. Says cut flowers die too quickly and it makes her sad. She’ll love these.”
“Thank you,” Smoker said, still a little shocked by the whole interaction. He reached for his wallet, but the woman held out a hand to stop him. “No need. Just tell her you picked them out yourself, I had nothing to do with it.” She winked and Smoker laughed.
“Fair enough. Thanks again, Inez,” he said and went on his way.
Smoker climbed the stairs to Ruby’s house and entered. Ruby was wrapped in a soft cotton robe, and Smoker could smell the coffee she had just brewed.
“Welcome back,” she said, pouring the liquid into mugs for the two of them. “I woke up and panicked a little before I saw your note. I was worried you had regrets about last night.”
Smoker huffed out a laugh and wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her in for a kiss. “I could never. Here,” he said, placing the orchids on the kitchen counter. “I…got these for you.”
Ruby smiled widely and kissed his jaw. “They’re lovely. Thank you.” A beat of silence, and then: “Inez helped you, didn’t she?”
Smoker sighed. “She told me not to tell you. But now I know you don’t like cut flowers, so I got that going for me.” Ruby only laughed and placed them on a windowsill with a few other flowering plants.
As Smoker drank his coffee, he actually looked around and took in her house for the first time. The front door opened to a living room with comfortable, if worn furniture. Rugs, blankets, and pillows in bright colors accented the room, and a style of art he assumed must be local hung from some of the walls. There were numerous plants scattered around the house, some hanging from the ceiling in macrame hangers, others in wall sconces or on stands. Resting in a corner he noticed her katana, the one she’d used in battle against his jitte numerous times.
To the right of the living room was the kitchen, where he currently stood with Ruby. It was rather small, but contained the basics, with a butcher block island in the center separating it from the living room and a metal rack off to the side stacked with jars and bags of dry ingredients. The windowsill in front of the sink appeared to house a small herb garden. On the other side of the living room were the bathroom and the bedroom, where he had spent the night. It was pretty simple overall, and he was sure she could afford better if she had wanted to, but that’s sort of what he liked about her - she didn’t seem to want a lot, she didn’t value wealth as a status symbol. He mused that her home was quite reflective of her - vibrant, but humble; attractive, but practical.
“It ain’t much, but it’s home,” Ruby said, planting a kiss on his chest and breaking him from his reverie.
“I like it,” Smoker said, smiling down at her as he wrapped an arm around her. “I like you.”
Ruby smiled, “I like you too, Smoker. A lot, actually.”
Smoker placed his empty mug on the counter and brought her closer to him, kissing her deeply. Ruby set her own mug down and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I was thinking,” she said, breaking the kiss, “We’ll shower, then we can go into town?” Smoker moved his lips onto her neck. “We can grab some lunch, I’ll show you around? Oh, and we can hit up the library and find you something to read.”
Smoker muttered an affirmation against her neck. “Sounds good. Are we showering together?” he asked, eyebrow raised suggestively.
Ruby smirked right back at him. “If you’d like, I wouldn’t object.”
That was all he needed to hear, and soon their clothes were on the floor and hot water was running over their bodies. They took their time in the shower, then took even more time in bed afterwards, exploring each other’s bodies in ways they hadn’t done the night before.
Lunch time had long since passed. A growling in Smoker’s stomach made Ruby giggle, breaking them from their post-coital bliss. “Still hungry?” she said, suggestively. “Come on, library before they close, then we’ll get some real food in you.” She lifted herself onto her elbow and attempted to push him out of bed.
Smoker huffed out a dramatic sigh, but his expression told her he was joking. Smoker pulled on his pants from the day before and felt the checklist in his pocket. Pulling it out, he grabbed a pen and made another X on the list:
Optional: Sleep with pretty lady.
They finished getting ready and left the house, hand in hand. For the first time it occurred to Smoker that there could be another Marine around at any point. He knew it was unlikely, but not impossible. He decided he couldn’t be bothered to care just then. The logical part of his brain metaphorically threw something against the wall in rage.
Ruby led him down the street to a short but wide building painted in blue. Bringing him inside, the walls and aisles were lined with books, and the air smelled of aged paper.
“This is one of my biggest projects in town, and the one I'm most proud of,” she said, smiling fondly at the place.
“Really?” Smoker said, surprised, looking down at her.
“Mhmm. After the currents changed, this island became pretty isolated. Shipments dried up, and that included books from the world outside. Trade became weaker, and education suffered because a lot of kids who used to have the time to learn now had to work to keep the place going. So over the past five or six years I’ve been bringing in books from all over the world, and everyone gets to use them free of charge. We don’t always have the most recent stuff, but there’s more than enough for everyone.”
Smoker couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You’re amazing, you know that? Every new thing I learn about you–”. He cut himself off, but the thought ran through his mind: makes me love you even more. Yes, he was starting to accept that he was definitely in love. The logical part of his brain screamed into a pillow.
“So,” she said, blushing, “What do you like to read?”
“Usually about history or weaponry, but those are specifically not allowed, so I’d like to try something different. Maybe fiction, I don’t do that very often. What do you recommend?”
Ruby smiled broadly. “I’m so glad you asked!”
She took his hand and guided him through the library, pointing out some of her favorites in a variety of genres: a murder mystery she swore he’d never in a million years guess the ending to, a horror novel about a deranged woman who kidnaps he favorite author, a series about swordfights, dragons, and political intrigue, and a comic book omnibus about her favorite superhero. After some perusing, he opted for the comic, deeming it the lightest reading of the options presented. Kuzan hadn’t said anything about comics, so he figured it would count. She rented the book out for him and stuck it in her bag for safekeeping.
After the library, Ruby led them back down the old wooden stairs to the boardwalk and into a restaurant, where she plopped them at a table outside under an umbrella. Over dinner and drinks, the two continued to learn about each other.
“So you’re looking to reach the top?” Ruby asked Smoker. “You want to be an Admiral? Fleet Admiral even?”
Smoker nodded, swallowing a bit of food. “I do.”
“Is that just the natural progression for you? Or do you have something specific you want to achieve by holding such a position?”
Smoker stopped for a minute. How does he approach this with a pirate? Over the past day it had become very easy to forget that the person he had feelings for was supposed to be his natural enemy. He didn’t know what they would be when their time was up. In all likelihood, it would be back to the status quo. It sort of made his heart ache to think about.
“For the most part, I’m not much different from any of the other guys. They all have their own, personal brand of justice that guides their actions. Akainu believes in Thorough Justice, no mercy for wrongful acts and upholding order by any means necessary, even if innocent people get hurt. Kizaru believes in Unclear Justice, he pursues justice but he’s sort of fickle about it until he needs to act decisively. Aokiji believes in what he calls Lazy Justice. He’s never given me a clear answer on what that means,” Smoker laughed. “But ultimately Admirals all have the same goals in mind: to keep the peace, to bring crime under control, to save civilian lives, things like that. But for me, there’s….also a lot of issues with the military. And the World Government as a whole. I’d like to use my power to remedy that as much as possible.”
“That’s a noble pursuit,” Ruby said. “And what’s your personal sense of justice?”
Smoker didn’t entirely know how to answer that question. “Well…if you’d asked me two days ago, I would have said I personally fall somewhere between Akainu and Kizaru - show no mercy, but don’t bring innocent people into it unless unavoidable. But also no second chances, no leniency. But then I spent time with this really gorgeous, fun, kind-hearted pirate…and I’m not sure anymore. I’m not about to condone piracy over here,” he added quickly, making Ruby smile warmly at him. “You’re still a criminal, and this thing we have…” Smoker looked down, unsure of how to continue that sentence. He sighed and looked into her eyes. “You’ve shown me that not all pirates can be grouped under the same umbrella. And I genuinely don’t know what to do with that. Sure does make my job a hell of a lot harder.”
Ruby reached across the table and placed her hand over his. He rotated his hand to hold hers. 
“We’re gonna have to talk about this at some point,” she said softly. “Us, I mean. Whatever that is. We both know this is more than just a fling.”
Smoker nodded, and brought her hand up to plant a soft kiss on it. “I know. I don’t want to have that conversation. I think we both know how it’s gonna end. But…I’m also determined to enjoy every second I get with you while I’m here.”
Ruby smiled gently as he kissed her hand again and again, leaving a trail down her wrist. “I know. I feel the same. We’ll just have to make the most of what we have while we have it. Do you….I mean have you ever had something like this before?” Ruby asked. “Something that’s maybe a little more than casual?”
Smoker looked into her eyes. “I’ve never been a….relationship kind of guy, I guess,” he replied. “But I did have something close to it some time ago.”
“Would you tell me? If you want.”
Smoker kissed her hand, then released it to return to his meal. “Her name’s Hina. I met her when I joined the academy when I was sixteen. When I was younger I was sort of a troublemaker and she kept me in line.”
“You? A troublemaker? I don’t believe it.” Ruby cut in with a teasing smirk.
Smoker chuckled. “Hey, I wasn’t always the model Marine you see now. I was kind of a rebel, and she was a perfect student. I probably would’ve gotten kicked out if it wasn’t for her. Anyway, when we got older we became….something. It was pretty casual, but also more at the same time….kind of like this I guess. We ended it when she moved a rank ahead of me and I moved under her command. But there were no hard feelings about it, and she’s still one of my closest friends. So what about you?”
Ruby smiled. “I had a….thing once. With Shanks.”
Smoker raised an eyebrow curiously. “Red Hair Shanks, huh? I hear he’s got a reputation with the ladies.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Ruby laughed. “I met Shanks a few years back, before he was an Emperor. He was flirty and goofy, of course, and we had a casual fling going for a while. Eventually we both wanted it to become more, but it didn’t happen.”
“Why not?” Smoker asked.
Ruby shrugged. “Shanks isn’t a one partner kind of guy. He has a couple of ongoing long-term relationships, plus occasional flings. Everything’s on the up and up, of course” she added quickly, noting Smoker’s surprised expression. “All of his partners know about each other, and he does truly love his long-term partners. He’s big on boundaries and communication, and does this whole thing ethically. He asked me if I wanted to become something more, but…if I’m going to do that, I want to be with just one person, ya know? And I want that one person to be with just me. His relationship style just wasn’t for me. So we didn’t pursue it, but we’re still very good friends.”
“That sounds like his loss,” Smoker replied with a wink, “And my gain.” Ruby chuckled. “Ya know,” he continued, not even suppressing his mischievous grin, “This would be a lot easier if you’d just forego your life of crime. Maybe join the force. We wouldn’t have any problems then.”
Ruby let out a laugh. “We both know I’m not any more likely to do that than you are to quit the Marines and join me for a life of piracy.”
“I know,” he replied. “But I had to put it out there.”
Ruby smiled and kissed him softly. “You’d make a great pirate.”
Over the next week and some, Ruby and Smoker did exactly what they said they’d do: they made the most of their time together, and in the process knocked off a few more things from Smoker’s list.
One morning, Ruby took them to a quiet area on the beach where a hammock hung between two palm trees. Smoker relaxed and read his comic while Ruby read her own book and occasionally got up to swim in the ocean. After a quick lunch of street food, Ruby yawned deeply and put down her book, curling up against Smoker’s side and closing her eyes. He found himself dropping his book to the sand shortly after, wrapping his strong arms around her and dozing off, the gentle breeze from the ocean rocking them to sleep in the hammock. They awoke a few hours later to a setting sun, salt-kissed skin, and each other’s sleepy, but happy gazes.
Most mornings Smoker would wake up early and go for a run through town and along the beach. He had three days where he wasn’t allowed to exercise, but he was for damn sure going to take advantage of all the other ones or else it would be that much harder to get back into the swing of things when he got back to base. Some mornings Ruby would join him and guide them to some lesser-used trails along the island, but some mornings she’d let him go on his own. He was, after all, much taller than her, and she had to work twice as hard to keep up.
Another day Ruby borrowed some fishing supplies from a neighbor and packed the two of them a picnic lunch. They loaded everything onto Smoker’s bike and went for a ride around the island before settling on a spot atop a low crag. Ruby found Smoker’s motorcycle fascinating - she’d never ridden one before, and certainly had never heard of one powered by a person’s Devil Fruit abilities. She was fascinated as he explained how it works as they sat on their blanket over lunch. He was very proud of the fact that he’d built it himself.
“In another life,” she’d said, “You probably would have been a good mechanic or engineer. You’re clearly very skilled with your hands.” Smoker grinned and kissed her, pulling her to the blanket and showing her exactly how good he could be with his hands.
They did eventually catch a few fish, and back at Ruby’s house she walked Smoker through how to filet their catch, and assisted him through a recipe. She didn’t do anything except guide him, and he did a pretty good job with dinner that night if he could say so himself.
And the two weeks they spent together flew by. Every day spent together was filled with laughter and every night was filled with passion. Smoker couldn’t get enough of her. But as the clock ticked towards their final days together, he found himself staying up a little later each night after she’d fallen asleep, holding her a little closer, dreading their imminent final moments together. They still hadn’t talked about what would happen when Smoker had to leave.
On their last full day together, Smoker awoke with the sun and planted a gentle kiss on Ruby’s head as she continued to sleep. He wanted to go for his morning run, but he wasn’t feeling much like running. Instead, he took his time wandering the town, taking in all the places where he and Ruby had spent time together. The bars and restaurants, the stores she’d toured him around, the boardwalk and the beach….despite the short time, he felt like every structure held a memory. He would miss the town, sure, but mostly he would miss her. He stopped and sat on the bench where they had spoken until the sun rose when he’d first arrived in town. Smoker smiled, thinking about how far they’d come, and how deeply he’d fallen in love with her.
It was time. They needed to have the talk. On his way back to Ruby’s house, Smoker dropped his comic at the library, now completed and thoroughly discussed, then walked the store-lined streets towards his destination. He slowed his pace, taking time to look in the store windows. He knew he was procrastinating. He knew she was probably awake by now and wondering where he was.
Then something caught his eye in a dusty secondhand shop window. He ducked in and spoke to the shopkeeper, and walked out with a paper bag and a gift for the woman he loved. 
Smoker climbed the stairs and opened the front door.
“I was wondering when you’d be home,” Ruby said, leaning up onto her toes to kiss him.
“Sorry I’m later than usual,” Smoker said, “I was just wandering. I’ll miss this place.”
“Just wandering, huh?” Ruby said with a nod to the bag he carried.
Smoker chuckled. “You’ll see what’s in there in time. But first….baby, we can’t put this off any longer.”
Ruby sighed. “I know….this has been hanging over our heads for two weeks. It’s time.”
Smoker placed the bag down and followed Ruby onto the worn, comfortable couch. Smoker could immediately feel the memories come back as he sat down on it. The hours he’d spent with his feet kicked up reading, his head resting on one of the colorful pillows as Ruby hummed softly and tended to her plants or made them dinner. The time she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder and grumbled unconsciously every time he tried to move her to the bed until his laughing woke her up. The time she’d ridden him there, his hands on her hips and hers gripping the soft cushions tightly as they brought each other over the edge.
And now, here was where they’d decide the future of their relationship.
Ruby sat on one side, and Smoker on the other. Farther apart than they had ever been. They both looked away.
“Ruby…” Smoker said, reaching for her hand. They looked at each other, then laughed, the discomfort and the weight of the situation so palpable it could only be dissolved with awkward laughter.
“Do you wanna start or do you want me to?” Ruby asked, looking up at him through her lashes.
“Let me,” Smoker said with a huff. “I just….”
“I know,” she said.
With a deep breath, Smoker began. “Ruby….the last two weeks…..I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life. And that’s a hell of a pill to swallow. Everything we’ve done, every moment spent with you goes against everything I’ve ever been taught, everything I’ve ever believed. And tomorrow I’m going to go back to headquarters and pretend like nothing happened. Like my life hasn’t been turned upside down. I….I don’t know how to handle that. I don’t know how I’m gonna do it. But I will. Despite everything, tomorrow I will go back to being a Marine. There’s no doubt about that.”
Ruby looked away. She could feel tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She knew this was the likely outcome, but goddammit did it hurt.
“But…” Smoker’s hand reached out and lifted her chin, wiping away a stray tear. “Just because I’m still going to be a Marine and you’re still going to be a pirate….it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to make it work.”
Ruby’s eyes widened. “You’re serious? Smoker, that’s a hell of a risk you’re taking. If we got found out, you could lose everything.”
Smoker nodded. “Yeah, I know. But…I can’t not risk it. I can’t walk away from here without at least trying. And it’ll be hard, and it’ll suck a lot of the time, and I’ll miss you like hell every single day. Honestly it probably won’t work out in the end….but I’m willing to try if you are.”
“The odds sure are against us, huh?” Ruby asked.
Smoker nodded. “They are. I think we will almost certainly face our end one day. But I’m not ready for that ending to come today. I can’t. This,” he said, moving closer to her, and taking her hands back in his, “This is probably doomed. But I’m gonna bank on that ‘probably’ okay? And if it ends, or when it ends…well, we’ll know we’ve done our best.”
“It’s gonna hurt like hell,” Ruby said through her tears.
“It’s gonna hurt like hell whether it ends tomorrow or next month or ten years from now or sixty. I’m already in love with you, Ruby, the damage is done. Might as well make the most of it, right?”
Ruby huffed out a laugh. “You’re in love with me, huh?”
Smoker smiled. “Ruby…I am completely, stupidly in love with you. And I don’t regret it for a second.”
Ruby beamed. “I’m in love with you too, Smoker. I love you so, so much.”
“So what’s in the bag?” Ruby asked, her head laying on Smoker’s chest as she ran her fingers lightly across the muscles of his chest and through the soft white hairs that adorned them.
Smoker huffed out a laugh. “I almost forgot about that. You did sort of distract me,” he said with a wink.
Smoker hopped out of bed and pulled his pants back on, then adjourned to the living room, returning a moment later with the bag.
“I still had one thing on my list: Buy something I wouldn’t normally spend money on. I’m kind of a minimalist, I guess, I don’t usually buy stuff I don’t need. But I saw this while I was in town and I thought it might make this whole situation a little easier for us. Smoker opened the bag and pulled out two rectangular lamps, each about a foot tall and decorated with a metal filigree design. Ruby took one in her hands and ran her fingers over the metal. “Here, check this out,” he said, grabbing the other one. He placed his hand on top of the lamp, and the lamp in Ruby’s hand began to glow, stopping when Smoker stopped touching its counterpart.
“Holy shit!” Ruby cried. “How does it…I mean…”
Smoker chuckled. “I dunno,” he said. “The guy at the store didn’t either, says they’ve been sitting there unsold for years. But he says they’re supposed to work anywhere in the world. I figure that if we’re gonna try to make this work, transponder snails and mail will be too risky for regular communication. So we can use these instead. Do you know Morse code?” He tapped a few times on his lamp, watching as Ruby’s flashed in time with the movements.
“I know a little, but I can easily learn more. There’s a book at the library. I didn’t know the Navy still used Morse code.”
“They don’t,” he replied. “Haven’t since well before my time. But I learned it as a kid, and I think few enough people know it that if anyone sees it flashing it won’t set off any alarms. If anyone asks I’ll just say it’s broken.”
Ruby smiled widely. What an amazing idea. What an amazing piece of technology this was…or maybe it was magic. She wasn’t entirely sure. Either way, Smoker was right - this would make everything so, so much easier and safer for them…for him, especially. “Smoker….I don’t know what to say. This is brilliant. Thank you so much.” She kissed him deeply, a hand wrapped around his neck. 
And with that, Smoker removed the list from his pocket and crossed off the final item.
The next morning, Ruby walked Smoker down to the marina. In one hand he supported the travel bag over his shoulder (his half of the lamp pair tucked safely away), and the other hand held onto hers tightly. They had spent Smoker’s last night on Pufferfish Island much the way they had spent his first - dinner and drinks at Carlos’s bar, watching the moon rise over the ocean, and finally making love until they both could no longer keep going. After Ruby fell asleep, Smoker tried his best to stay up. He didn’t want the time to end, to have to stop running his fingers through her hair and kissing her forehead, suppressing a chuckle when he saw her sleeping face take on a soft smile. He prayed for the sun to not rise that day, but he must have drifted off despite his best efforts, because when he opened his eyes the sun was shining onto the bedroom floor.
At the Marina, Smoker readied the boat and dropped his stuff on board. Ruby had sent him off with a few meals for the trip and a few bottles of the island’s signature rum. When the sails were unfurled and everything was ready, he stepped back off the boat and onto the pier to say goodbye.
Ruby was trying so hard not to cry. Some irrational part of her brain didn’t want Smoker to see her like that again, and certainly not as the way he’d remember her when he left. But she failed, and the tears flowed freely.
“Come here,” Smoker said, his voice low, as he pulled her close to him. He could feel her tears on the skin of his chest as he stroked her hair gently.
“I’ll miss you so much, Smoker,” she sobbed.
Smoker smiled softly. “I’ll miss you too. More than you could ever know.” Smoker pulled away from her and lifted her face to meet his. He smiled, and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Remember the Morse code phrases I wrote out for you. And when you get better at it we’ll coordinate the next time we can meet. I’ll plan to take another vacation in a few months.”
Ruby huffed out a laugh. “Are you glad you did it? Are you happy they forced you into a vacation?”
Smoker grinned. “Best thing I’ve ever done.”
With a final, lingering kiss, the two broke apart and Smoker returned to the boat, casting off the mooring and waving goodbye a final time. Ruby stood on the dock and watched the small Marine vessel until it was only a dot in the distance, then turned and made her way back to her now-empty house.
Previous - Chapter 2: Changing Currents
Next - Chapter 4: Confession, Part 2
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sapphic-swiftie13 · 2 years
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As it was
Looking over at the woman on the opposite side of the table was impossible. You didn't understand how she could do this, or why, for that matter. Your mind was clouded, and the fog never seemed to pass as you stared at how her fingers tapped on the wood.
Nothing about this made sense. It didn't seem real. You thought back on everything that had happened. Buying an apartment together, her getting pregnant, the accident, the day everything went downhill. It all felt like some sort of sick joke.
You felt someone nudge your shoulder, making you look up. "What?" you asked slightly confused. The man beside you only cleared his throat. He looked quite handsome, clean shaven, short black hair, and not to mention a ring on his finger. He must have been one of the lucky ones in this world.
He had a woman to go home to, unlike you.
You looked good, given the circumstances, but the ring on your finger didn't mean anything, not anymore. It was a painful reminder of how everything had gone to shit.
Not daring to look at her, your eyes landed on the man beside her.
He flashed you a smile, but you couldn't return it. You were too sad.
You glanced at her, and her eyes were already on you, making you look away in an instant.
Never in your life had you heard silence quite this loud.
It was strange, to say the least. But it was the reason to why you were in this room, with lawyers trying to keep the peace between the two of you.
Whenever you two were alone, you'd argue. To be honest, you didn't believe you could ever have a normal conversation with her ever again.
The fighting and bickering had gone on for far too long. Trying to repair it only made it worse. It made the wedge between the two of you painfully clear.
You told your family for a reason; you couldn't keep it in.
Your sibling even splashed out on the bottle.
Everyone thought you were going to make it, that you both were in it for the long run.
But it wasn't so.
You had nothing bad to say about her, you couldn't even blame her.
Not once did you doubt your relationship, because you had given it your all, you were patient with her, gave her love and affection, and space when needed, but still it wasn't enough. The effort you put in was simply not enough to make her stay.
Hearing the scribbling of a pen made you anxious. She was signing the papers. It felt like someone was repeatedly kicking your stomach, you felt the need to throw up. You needed to get out of there.
Abruptly standing up, holding a hand in front of your mouth said it all. All eyes in the room landed on you as you turned around.
"Where do you think you're going?" her low and raspy voice spoke out.
"I can't just sit here and watch you sign the...." you answered, but couldn't finish the sentence as your voice broke, then you opened the door and walked out. You leaned against the wall, tears streaming down your face. From the inside you heard a chair scraping the floor, and soon enough the door opened.
"Are you okay?" your lawyer asked you, while you were obviously not okay at all.
"Does it fucking look like I'm okay?" you practically yelled at him.
"I had it all! I was happily married to the kindest woman I've ever known. We bought an apartment and moved in together. Before we knew it, we tried for a baby, reciprocal IVF was a lifesaver, we could both be biological parents to our unborn child," you yelled at him as people around you turned their heads in your direction.
"She was three months pregnant when a drunk driver drove into the side of her car while she was driving home from work! Not only did I lose a child, but now I'm losing the love of my life!" you went on, screaming your head off at him.
"Do you get that? Do you understand what I'm going through? And then you have the fucking nerve to ask if I'm okay! What the fuck is wrong with you?" you screamed, wanting to punch his teeth in.
"I don't want your fake niceties, I want you to be my fucking lawyer, you deal with the papers and the legal shit, if I wanted to talk about my feelings, emotional damage and trauma then I'd get a fucking therapist-" you kept screaming but were cut off by Florence yelling from inside the room, "that's quite enough!"
You instantly went quiet. She had that effect on you. No matter what, you'd eventually end up listening to her. Her being mad was something you liked; it was attractive. It was something you always had loved about her, especially to be the reason she was mad, but now it was different.
It wasn't something playful, or funny, something to look back at and laugh about. It was just her stopping you from embarrassing yourself even more. The divorce was humiliation enough.
Soon enough you sat down again, wiped your tears, and took a deep breath. She had already signed the papers. You knew what was about to happen.
Sliding the papers over to you with her famous frown plastered on her face, you knew this hurt her just as much as it hurt you.
You stared at her signature. Then the pen she had used that was on top of the divorce papers.
Once again, all the eyes in the room had landed on you, everyone was waiting for you to sign the papers and get it over with.
But you didn't. You simply looked at the papers but couldn't pick the pen up.
"Just sign the damn papers," Florence said, and you heard her lawyer hush her.
"What? She doesn't have a choice, and the longer she makes us wait, the harder it becomes!" she followed up, getting more upset.
"I don't want to sign the papers, Florence..." you whispered.
"I understand that... but we can't stay married," she said lowly.
"Why not?"
"Because we fight! It's all we do! Nothing is as it was."
"We can't turn back time, Florence... no matter what we do, it'll never be the same. It doesn't mean we should just give up on each other."
"Well, I gave up on myself a long time ago," she answered.
"I never gave up on you," you argued, as both of your lawyers' exchanged looks.
"It wouldn't have been fair to stay with you when I had already given up, I had to make a choice... I couldn't put you through any more pain than I had already caused you," she stated.
"It wasn't your choice to make!" you yelled at her.
"You can't choose if I want to stay with you or not! That's my decision to make!" you went on, getting more upset.
"Is this better? To argue about everything and nothing at all?" she asked, frowning.
"I'd rather argue than to lose you. Besides, we can work things out."
Both of your lawyers seemed to get an actual understanding of why she had filed for a divorce. Your lawyer leaned backwards in his chair, and her lawyer scratched his beard, trying to get time to pass.
"Please just... sign the papers," she pleaded, but you refused.
"No, not now, I can't."
"If you don't then you never will!" she raised her voice at you.
"Okay, let's just take a deep breath, both of you!" her lawyer said, trying to calm the two of you down.
"I know you! If you put this off again then we'll stay married forever!" she went on, getting annoyed.
"Exactly, you know me! Why throw that away?!" you asked, getting annoyed too.
"For fuck's sake, sign the damn papers, and even though I know you doesn't mean we're good for each other!"
"Look at yourselves, you both need to take a step back here!" your lawyer said, trying to stop the argument.
"Wow... great. Just decide that too, Flo, like you decide everything else!" you said, standing up and sliding the papers over to her side of the table again.
Then you walked out of the room and slammed the door behind you. The people that had watched you lose your calm just moments before, had their eyes glued to you once again. You walked away, down the hallway, and found the restroom.
Your hands rested on one of the sinks as you tried to calm yourself down. Then the doors opened. You knew who it was.
Her presence could never go unnoticed.
"I thought... that I should check up on you..."
"That's nice of you... after like what, eight months or so?"
"Oh, come on."
"Do you know how hard I tried to make sure you were okay? That you had someone to talk to, or someone who could just listen, or to just simply be there whenever you needed anything?"
She was silent.
"I slept in a chair for weeks, as you had to stay glued to that hospital bed. I kept the press away from everything, from the accident, the baby, and you in critical condition..."
"I didn't get to grieve, Florence! Our baby... he was going to be such a cute little man. I can't stop imagining how he'd look, if he would have brown or blonde hair, your eyes or mine, but goddamn I wish he'd have your button nose..." you said as your voice was breaking.
"You don't know if it was going to be a boy..." she said softly.
"I had a feeling, okay..."
"Okay," she whispered, as she walked over to you, hugging you from behind.
The feeling of her hands on you again made you shiver, but soon enough you leaned into her touch.
"I'm sorry..." she whispered. "I'm sorry... that I forgot that I wasn't the only one who lost something that day..."
You slowly turned around, letting her arms wrap around your waist. "I'm sorry for everything... I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you..." she whispered and kissed your forehead.
Sometimes things happen way too fast. One minute you were trying to calm yourself by the sink, the next minute she hugged you, kissing your forehead, and now she clashed her lips onto yours. You didn't even realize when it all had started to happen. Her hands tugging at your hair as she pressed her body against yours.
Anyone could come in at any moment, but you didn't care, and it seemed like she didn't care either. She pushed you up against the wall, like she couldn't get enough of you.
You were completely lost in the moment, lost in her, the smell of her perfume, the warmth of her touch, and her rough fingertips tracing your skin.
She held you against the wall, kissing your neck.
Before you could react, her hands were in your underwear. Slightly moaning as she stimulated your clit, you put a hand over your mouth, trying to stay quiet, knowing anyone could enter the restroom at any moment.
She didn't even consider the danger. Two celebrities fucking in a bathroom after it was well known that they were leaving each other. But at this moment you didn't give a shit about anything. All that mattered was how she made you cling to her.
This is how you and Florence forgave each other. Her pleasuring you in a public restroom.
As you were getting closer to your orgasm, your legs slowly started to give out. You nuzzled your face in the crook of her neck, tugging at her short blonde hair, placing sloppy kisses and love bites on her skin, leaving small bruises on her skin.
You were quietly whining as she added more pressure. A guttural moan left your lips as the door was flung open; you came undone on her hand as you grinded down on her palm. Looking over her shoulder, moaning and panting, as she rode out your high you could see a woman standing there with her mouth wide open, and a little girl beside her that didn't understand what was happening before her.
The woman quickly placed her hand in front of the child's eyes and just stood there, dumbfounded.
You and Florence started laughing, both of your faces colored in a red flush.
Then she quickly zipped up your pants and went to wash her hands in the sink.
"You're Florence Pugh, right? And oh my god, you're her wife, or ex-wife?"
"Yup," Florence answered her, "something like that..."
You only stood there trying to wrap your head around this crazy event.
Instead of closing the door, she had stood there watching as you came on Florence's hand. What a messed-up world you lived in.
When Florence had washed her hands, she grabbed yours and pulled you towards her. "Come here..." she said while smirking and pressed a kiss to your lips.
Then she wrapped one arm around your waist and started making her way to the door.
"Can I get an autograph?" the woman asked, like nothing had happened.
"You don't want an autograph when you know where this hand has just been," Florence answered her cheekily.
"But you just washed your hand..." the woman argued, but Florence and you only walked past her, laughing as you walked down the hallway, back to your lawyers.
Opening the door, your lawyers seemed to have caught on as she held around you.
"So... no divorce then?" they asked in unison.
Florence only grabbed the papers and ripped them in two pieces. "No, these papers are addressed to the fire," she answered, while throwing them in the trash, and then she proceeded to take out a cigarette from her pocket and put it between her lips.
Then she took out her lighter and lit her cigarette, and her lawyer tried to stop her.
"You can't smoke in here!"
But she didn't care. She took a drag of her cigarette and dropped the lighter into the trash. "Hope you have a fire extinguisher nearby," she said and chuckled as the divorce papers were swallowed by the flames.
The two men ran out of the room, and you followed them, soon enough they put the small fire out and you left the building hand in hand.
Shortly after, the fact that you had been caught fucking in the restroom, saved your marriage and burned your divorce papers were splashed on the news front page.
All you knew and expected was that it never would be as it was.
I laughed during the smut scene loool and yes, while writing the smut I thought about The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo and if you haven't read the book, then you're missing out and need to buy it and read it as fast as humanly possible!!! 
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The Day the Ocean Erupted
Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Angst, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Allusions to death, drowning, pain, storms, thunder, rain
~ * ~
You remember the day the ocean erupted.
You’d been in your office, at 2 PM exactly, pen in hand and ink spotting your fingers, the culprits a stack of papers in the upper corner. The sun had filtered through your window and casted shining streamers on your desk as you wrote, typical of Liyue’s golden summers. You tapped your pen against your chin- how to phrase this next sentence? Should you focus on one or two types of silk? You hummed contemplatively, then scribbled a few more words. Sturdiness- that was important to mention in a report, especially one about something elegant like silk. The room filled with a comforting silence as you wrote word after word on the paper in the delicate warmth of the sun.
The first drop came and went without attention. But it was soon followed by another. And another. And another, until the sky was shedding all its tears into the streets and ocean of the city. Your pen had fallen from your grasp with a resounding clatter as you stood to peer outside the window, your eyes narrowed. Rain? In Liyue? Now? It was ridiculous.
Then something burst out of the ocean and you fell backwards in shock, pushing yourself away from the window despite being on one of the upper levels of the harbor. You rushed downstairs and pushed your door open, catching glimpses of an enormous serpentine creature rising from the waters as people rushed up and down the streets in a panic. The rain poured down in buckets, drenching everything and everyone, and all around there’s a frenzy of screaming, shouting, yelling, the same phrase reworded a thousand times, The Fatui did this, it’s the Fatui’s fault, the Fatui are to blame, and you could only think of one thing- your associate, your acquaintance, your companion.
Your friend.
Childe. Where was he? Vanished to the Golden House, they told you, but not as Childe, as Tartaglia, the Harbinger. For business, he said.
But soon you were swept up with the waves of screaming, and the thought had been lost.
That was weeks ago, when the Traveler had harnessed the power of the Adepti and defeated the old god Osial, with a final blow from Lady Ningguang’s Jade Chamber to seal him in the sea. The entire nation held its breath as Fatui activity wavered, dropped, then fizzled out completely. Life returned to normal, the seasons rolling by like a sigh of relief as reassuring whispers spread the news that the Fatui were finally, finally stopping their irritating interferences with the harbor.
You finish your final words and set your pen down, a thoughtful frown prominent on your face. You’ve never really been affected by the Fatui. For the most part they simply existed, a rumored plague on the Liyue Qixing with their endless meddling, but to you they were simple guards standing near doors and on the docks. On occasion when you had to wait there you would make conversation, to which most of them would respond to either in earnest or slightly tense surprise. For all their supposed horrid tendencies and practices and nosiness, you had found that many of the Fatui were, quite simply, people; people from a different nation and far away from home. People who had their own interests and likes and dislikes. People who had their own reasons and dreams and realities.
People who had all vanished when the last ripple in the ocean had stilled. And among them, your friend Childe, the Eleventh Harbinger Tartaglia. He was the only Fatui you would really consider a friend, the others being mere acquaintances. He was always teasingly kind to you, offering to get you a meal or asking to spend some offtime together. You, ever-suspicious, had often refused, but he was persistent and determined to chip down your walls one by one. And when they shook and crumbled your friendship had blossomed, despite the odd melancholy in his eyes whenever he looked at you, a question you never knew the answers to.
All this he was. But he was gone now, you suppose, following the tall, elegant woman you had seen exiting the Northland Bank to the mysterious depths of Inazuma. He looked so exhausted, outwardly appearing as tired as you sometimes felt inside, and your brow pinches.
You sigh and set your pen to the side before rising from your chair, cursing yourself for contemplating old memories. You don’t expect Childe to return anytime soon, if ever, so perhaps some thoughts are best left packaged in their pretty boxes scattered around the attic of your mind. The door swings open as you slip on your coat- it’s chilly outside, and you walk to the teashop for a new blend and distraction from the conflicting turmoil in your head.
The rain begins just as you hurry back home, having forgotten your umbrella in a moment of carelessness. Liyue’s winters, while cold and biting, never froze the storms that encroached almost every other day, instead letting icy droplets of slush fall on people’s backs and clothes. The clouds shield the few stars in the sky from view, blocking out the moon and turning the raindrops an inky black. You shove your door open and immediately shut and lock it again with a sigh of relief, shaking out your clothes and rubbing your chilled hands together. Your breathing is the only sound in the house, and your bones soon settle with a deep chill as the pressing quiet seems more and more foreboding. You cock your head to the side and hear an ever-so-faint rustling sound, and you pick up your weapon before making your way down the hall.
When you reach the living room you blink in surprise. Unlike what you expected, nothing is broken, not a dish is out of place, no drawers are flung open and riffled through. Nothing is wrong, nothing is out of order, your limited vision tells you, but a cold breeze sends goosebumps down your arms and you make your way over to the ajar window, very nearly bumping into furniture several times. You fumble with the latch and pull the window shut, dragging the curtain closed as if to cover the rain with elegant patterns and cloth, and for a few moments, you listen to the steady pour outside as it creates a chiming melody on the roof and glass.
Something breathes next to you. You whirl away in shock, clutching your weapon tightly. Something is here with you, watching you across the room, observing your every move as you hurry to light a match for some semblance of sight, the lamps in your house completely useless right now. The match strikes and connects, a yellow flame bursting to life, flickering like a firefly. You hold it up and come face-to-face with a single eye. Enormous and pearly, it gleams softly in the darkness, although whether it is blue or purple you cannot say. Sharp, plated red armor surrounds it, mask-like and curling into twin horns. The creature’s skin is also armored and bony, shades of purple and black with occasional splashes of red or silver, covered by a pair of translucent, sparkling wings like the deepest sea. It towers over you, claws and teeth razor sharp even in the persisting gloom, and you gasp and stumble away in terror. The starry wings and deep, rich colors, and the feeling it emanates, of being crushed and drowned by shining waves…
An Abyssal creature, some sort of monstrous beast from the depths of your world. It must be.
You back away from it, your chest tight with fear and the thought of death, of dying at the hands of this monster, holding your weapon so tightly you fear it might crack in your grip.
You’ve never been a fighter, only practical enough to keep a weapon you could use nearby. Between you and the creature, the creature would win with a simple swipe of its claws, and you would bleed out on the floor until you didn’t exist anymore, just another body lost to the infinite ocean.
But there is no attack, no clashing, no burning, searing pain, only a soft, sad whimper. You open your eyes and see the creature reaching out to you, crawling across the floor like standing causes it agony, as it lets out a broken and desperate wail. You take a step back again, then a step forward, your fear seeping out of you. Holding the match higher, you lean forward and squint, dots of color bleeding into the environment.
Ginger. Wondrously fluffy ginger hair, although it's wet with rainwater, and a single streak of white like snow.
You know who, and you say who before you even think who, uttering out it’s, his, name in a hushed whisper.
Childe.
Your weapon forgotten, you stand shellshocked in a corner of the room, so still and frozen that Childe himself attempts to rise to his feet, only to fall back to the ground with a pained cry, a sound that snaps your thoughts like shattering ice as you rush to support him. He scratches his claws on the ground, hiccupping, sobbing, whining tearfully at a pain you can’t see. You place a hand on the side of his face and he leans into it, almost slumping to the ground as he brings his hand up to cover your own. He stares at you, pained and suffering, with the same melancholy as before, a melancholy you now understand means I cannot love you, even though I so wish to, it is forbidden by fate and stars, and your heart breaks. 
You pick up a distant rumble of thunder, and Childe yelps in fear, wrapping his claws around you and pressing his face into your side, trembling. Your fingers stroke through his hair, running down the sides of his face and horns, and his sobs die to labored breathing as exhaustion finally overtakes him and lets his body relax.
You remember the day the ocean poured down from the sky. It was now, in a dark room with a pinprick flame of light, holding the consequences of the Abyss.
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husbandohunter · 4 years
Text
Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]
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Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”
(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).
Albedo's despair
Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps
(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫
_______________________________________________
The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.
It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.
Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.
So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.
"Master Diluc..."
Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."
"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."
Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.
"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."
Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.
Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"
Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.
Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."
"You're just going to leave her here?"
There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.
It was his concern.
-------
A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?
"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.
The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.
Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.
"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."
"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."
The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."
"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."
Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."
The pen slows into a halt.
No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.
"Fine, but I'm not eating that."
"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"
"Do I need to repeat myself?"
Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."
He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.
People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.
Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.
I should have pushed you away.
Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.
Then you'd still be-
Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.
She needs you to focus.
The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."
His reaction was immediate, "Where?"
"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"
"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."
Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."
"..."
"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."
"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."
"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."
"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."
The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.
-------
The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.
Diluc was tired, so tired.
He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?
In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.
"Diluc."
He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.
"Diluc."
"I'm sorry..."
The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?
"Diluc."
"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.
"Diluc, I'm here."
"Stop..."
"Diluc..."
He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.
And screamed.
Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.
He wanted you.
"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."
For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.
Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.
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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years
Text
Curiosity Killed The Cat ~ LMH & LF [M] [Request]
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WORD COUNT: 4.9K
PAIRING: Minho x Fem!Reader x Felix
GENRE: consensual smut, Hitman au, mentions of death, assisnation, bombings, blood, face riding, oral, threesome, M/F/M, after care, no protection
A/N: Please I had so much fun with this! I love writing AU’s so much!!! 🥺🥰💗 Hope this is okay for you my lovely little anon!
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"If you don't stop tapping that pen I'm going to shove it so far down your neck you'll whistle when you breathe," Minho growled in Felix's direction as they sat together in an old beat-up car. All Felix had done for the last four hours was tap and click the pen over and over again deciding that he was single-handedly going to be the one driving force that made Minho want to quit his job.
"I don't see anything else to do," Felix countered as he stared back at his partner who simply glared at him before looking out of the window again. It was a stupid idea to stake out a university it looked suspicious that two men were waiting in a car outside but it was the bosses orders. Stake out the school and wait for the suspect to come out but it felt creepy. Although it was a university and most of the students were their age it was strange to them both.
"Have we actually seen him go in?" The truth was no one had seen the guy that they were after in almost seven months, he was good at hiding which was why he was nicknamed "The Chameleon," something Minho hated. Why give the bad guy a name it was only going to boost the ego even more. 
"He's supposedly acting as a student," Minho handed the folder over to Felix keeping his eyes on the door, the Chameleon could walk out right under your nose and no one would have an idea it was him. 
"Why a student? Surely it would be feeling for him to be a teacher," Felix flicked through the folder the guy was a serial bomber that his company had been after for years. He'd killed almost over 100 people with no remorse whatsoever. It was as if the guy was a robot, he didn't care who he hurt as long as he got what he wanted, not that anyone knew what that was. His clues were always so vague. One thing for sure, it wasn't money that he was after. 
The government had tried to pay him to stop the needless killings only for the guy to blow the bag up in the middle of the street. 
"Easier to hide...Won't be so obvious when things go missing around the school...The student we're looking at fits his usual MO." Minho sighed taking a deep breath and looking at Felix for the first time in an hour. It was beginning to worry him the closer the two of them got to catching the guy. Their job wasn't a simple catch him and arrest him, no, they were the last resort. Kill him on sight as soon as they know, without a shadow of a doubt that it's him. Assassins or as they were better known as now, Hitmen. 
"Transfers in the middle of the year, things from the science department go missing and then there's the-" Right as Minho was about to explain that there were constant fire drills the alarm began to blare out through the school. 
"Those," He mumbled staring back over at the double-doored exit from the school. There was no use sitting at the entrance when they knew he liked to hide from everyone, if he was the one doing this they needed to find him and quickly before anyone else got hurt. 
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"Another drill?" You mumbled looking to your left to see your best friend Mina smirking at you, you rolled your eyes knowing why she was so happy. Thanks to the fire alarm she was going to get out of her final exam and pass it no matter what, 
"It wouldn't surprise me if you were the one pulling them," You mumbled sarcastically as you pulled your satchel over your shoulder, looking around for her so-called boyfriend. 
"What did you do? Get Farara to pull it?" You teased as you jabbed your elbow into her side, walking out into the courtyard and taking in a deep breath, 
"You need to relax, we've just finished exams and you're still studying," Mina rolled her eyes at you, it was always the same with her. She wanted you to let your hair down and relax while you wanted to focus on things that were important to you, like actually passing your course. 
"I have another two years to go, you're done. I'm just getting started." You reminded her as you looked around, you loved Mina with all of your heart but since meeting Farara she seemed to be getting in trouble more. Not only with the university but with the police. Just last week you'd been called down to the station to bail her out because she was caught driving around in a stolen car with enough products to set a whole house on fire. 
"Take a year off, come with me and Farara to England. He's going to take me away and spend time with his family." The more you heard about the guy the more worry began to grow inside of you. She'd hardly known him and yet she was planning to run away to a different country with him,
"What does he even do for a living? To get all of this money?" You questioned hoping she wouldn't get too annoyed with you asking her about him. It seemed as though whenever you asked questions she would get pissed at you, claiming that you were just trying to poke holes in their "relationship,"
"What does it matter?" She stared at you with a disgusted look on her face, 
"Hey, baby!" A voice cried out as a pair of strong-looking arms wrapped around Mina.
"Snuckums!" She practically squealed making you jump as she turned around and began making out with him grotesquely in front of everyone. 
"That's my cue to leave," You said loud enough for them to hear, turning to head home to your dorms when Mina grabbed your arm. 
"Party tonight. Come with us," She begged looking at you with pleading eyes, as you were about to decline Farara scoffed at the thought of it. 
"Y/n? At a party, don't make me laugh. She's the party pooper baby, she doesn't know how to have fun." For some reason, the anger bubbled up inside of you and it seemed to annoy you more. If Mina had been the one to say it it wouldn't have bothered you as much but from him, you wanted to prove him wrong. 
"I'll be there. Text me the details," You smiled smugly in his direction but he just seemed to smirk, it made you feel uneasy to see him smirking at you like that. 
"This will be great! A going-away party right baby!?" Mina squealed before making out with him once again.
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After spending almost four hours trying to pick something to wear you finally felt ready to go and headed straight to the party. It was at the frat house Farara had been living in since he got to the university. The whole walk over from your dorms you could have sworn someone was following you along. 
"Glad you could join us, take this." Mina handed you a drink and then laid a flower necklace around you before disappearing into the house leaving you alone. 
The whole house seemed to be partying hard, loud music was blaring for different speakers each of which was playing a different song. People were already yelling and dancing drunkenly along the floor and not to mention someone throwing up in a flower pot. 
"You came pretty late, didn't think you were going to show," Farara smirked once he caught sight of you in the kitchen. You hummed before putting down the cup Mina had given to you, there was no way you were going to drink that night. Not unless it was water at least. You didn't know anyone besides Mina and she was clearly preoccupied with other things.
"We have juice boxes in the basement," Farara joked earning a laugh from someone else in the kitchen but Mina pushed him softly. 
"Leave Y/n alone, she came and that's all that matters. Come on, let's go dance." She pulled you straight into the living room without giving you a chance to answer her. 
"Isn't this fun?! I'm so sad you never got to have parties all year," She pouted at you, wrapping her arms around your waist as she swayed in time to whatever song she heard first. The mixture of the songs and stench alcohol all starting to hurt your head the longer that you stood there but you were at least going to wait an hour before heading home. 
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"What the fuck are we doing?" Minho mumbled as he stared down at the jeans and shirt he was wearing, Felix had dressed in the same outfit only a different coloured shirt. When Felix suggested going to the party Minho didn't think he meant actually attending it.
"We're blending in." He chuckled laying one of the flower necklaces around Minho's neck who stared at him with a filthy look the moment it touched his chest. 
"What better way to find out information than going to the people that know the guy." It still didn't make Minho feel any better about being at some kind of dumb University frat party. Everyone was drunk and drooling over one another except for the girl that they had followed over, you. 
"Look," Minho nudged Felix and nodded in your direction as they watched you heading for the bathroom alone. You stood out amongst the rest, instead of dancing or drinking you were simply looking for a bathroom and keeping your head down. They only knew about the party because they'd overheard you and Mina talking about it earlier that day. 
"She looks like she could be here to help, we saw them speaking with one another earlier," Minho reminded Felix but he shook his head,
"She does look like she wants to be here, they didn't look like they liked one another." Minho shrugged his shoulders as he thought back on it, 
"All good acting," The two of them weren't sure if Farara had a partner this time but in all of his other bombings, he had someone. Someone who would take the fall for him, usually the good girl gone bad once they met him and fell for his traps. Promising them a life of happiness in another country, planning everything out so it would seem as though he truly loved and cared for them when he didn't. 
"I'm just saying we find The Chemelon, take care of business and leave," Felix whispered as they made their way through to the kitchen when they saw him. A loud laugh spread through the air that physically sent shivers down their spines, watching as he left out of the kitchen door and down the back garden. 
"Follow him," They said in unison as they headed out of the same door, keeping their heads down as they tried to see what it was he was doing. 
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Stepping out onto the back porch you took in a long deep breath of the cold air, it felt nice to have it circulating through you instead of the stuffy air from inside. Mina had begged you to stay once she caught you trying to leave, making you promise her that you wouldn't go anywhere until she found Farara who had run off leaving her in charge of the party. In your mind, he was out fucking someone else since he seemed like a player but you weren't about to tell one of your best friends that. 
The longer you stood there the more you wanted to go home but as you looked down at the end of the garden you frowned. Inside the small shed, there was a flashing light coming through the window and you could have sworn you heard someone grunting. 
"I swear to god if this is Farara I'll murder him," You mumbled to yourself as you began to walk towards the building. All you were going to do was look through the window, if it was him you'd find Mina and tell her. If it wasn't him you'd just act as though you hadn't seen anything but the closer you got the more uneasy you began to grow. Something inside of you was telling you to turn back but you weren't about to let your friend get cheated on by some good for nothing low-life.
"Tell us what you're planning and maybe we'll let you off easy," Felix whispered in Farara's ear from behind him. They'd followed him out and found him packing up a suitcase which meant the bombing was sooner than expected from him. 
"I don't know what you're talking about," The boy stuttered as he stared between the two men in front of him, both of them had guns on display to intimidate him into speaking. As if being strapped into a chair with garden rope wasn't scary enough for him.
"Look, we know who you are. Just tell us where the bomb is," As soon as the word bomb left Minho's mouth he heard a gasp and branch snap from outside the shed. His eyes met with Felix and he nodded over to the side door where Felix could easily get out without being seen. 
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Stepping back from the building you tried to move out of the way but ended up backing into someone who pushed you back to the window. Forcing you to stare through it as the man inside shot Farara in the chair he was strapped to. There was no sound from the gun you just saw a blur before Farara dropped forward, lifeless in the chair as blood pooled from the small entrance wound in his head. A small scream was building up in your throat but before you could say a word a hand was covering your mouth and you were ushered into the shed. 
"Clean up to Agents 322 and 366," The man who had killed Farara said down a small earpiece looking over at you with a small smirk on his face, 
"What a curious little kitten," Felix purred in your ear as he ran his fingers up and down your cheek making you shiver, 
“Curiosity Killed The Cat you know,” Minho chuckled as he looked over at you from his phone.
 "I'll ask you once, and only once." Minho lowered himself to your level, looking you in the eyes. 
"Do you know who he's working with? Your friend maybe? Could she have known what he was planning?" Bile rose up in your throat as you watched the blood pooling onto the floor, running along to Mino's shoes as he stood there. 
"Mina. S-She wouldn't have know...I don't think," You looked back at Minho, the gut feeling inside of you seemed to subside as you looked at him and Felix who was now standing in front of you. 
"You don't seem scared that we just killed your friend?" Felix questioned looking from the body and back to you, your eyes get dancing to and from Farara, half expecting him to jump up and have this be some kind of joke. 
"A friend? I didn't know him and he did nothing but belittle me...What was it you said about a bomb?" Curiosity began to build in Minho as he watched you, there wasn't even an ounce of fear towards them from you. 
"Have you heard of the Chameleon?" The realization hit you as you stared at Farara. 
"He fits the MO." You mumbled shocking Felix who just seemed to stare at you in disbelief. 
"You're training to be in the forces?" Minho asked as he laid a garden sheet over the body, your eyes staring back at him this time. 
"My father was an FBI agent, I know some things...I know you're not FBI." A smirk plastered across Felix's lips as he watched you and Minho interacting the way you were. It was the first time he'd ever seen Minho act so casually with someone in months, not to mention he seemed laid back. 
"How do you know that?" Felix quizzed looking over at you as he folded his arms over his chest. 
"For starters, neither of you have a badge otherwise you would have shown me by now, your guns aren't standard issue for agents...So you're hitmen...That or random psychopaths." Minho blinked at you before standing up straight when he heard a knock on the door. 
"Clean up crew," Minho pulled the door open and ushered you out with Felix on your other side. 
"Do you need help with her?" A female voice asked as you turned your whole body to see a female staring at you. 
"No thanks, you go and clean up. We'll take her home." Your eyes shot up to the one with the deep voice, Felix, and you frowned. 
"We'll make sure you get home safe," Minho added when he could see how confused you were. 
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Leading you over to their car you stared at it, it was the same car that had been following you earlier. 
"You followed me here," The back door opened and you crawled inside, looking around at all of the empty food packets. 
"Ignore the mess, we were on a stakeout," Felix chuckled as he got into the front passenger seat and glanced back at you. 
"I'm Felix and this is Minho," He shook your hand and you felt a spark ignite inside of you. The way his hand fit around yours made you shiver a little, 
"Look at that, someone liked your touch Lix." Your eyes shot to Minho started up the car and smirked at you through the small review mirror. 
"Give us your address kitten," The small nickname made you clench your thighs as you could feel an aerosol building. After giving them your dorm address you began trying to pull yourself back together, you'd just watch them kill someone and yet you were getting wet at the thought of them calling you kitten. It didn't help that they were insanely attractive, Felix's muscles could be seen through the thin white shirt he was wearing and Minho's ass looked like he worked out an awful lot. You blinked, ignoring the growing wetness that was pooling between your legs. 
"Look at that, we haven't said one suggestive comment and you're squeezing your little thighs together," Minho chuckled as he reached a red light, turning to look at you from the front seat and licking his lips at the sight of you. Completely innocent and sitting there rubbing your legs together as if that was going to give you any kind of satisfaction that you were desperately craving. 
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"My guess is she's going to go home and touch herself to the thought of us," Minho teased as he began to drive once again, watching Felix as he turned to look at you. His eyes locking with you as he reached behind to rub your knee softly. 
"I mean she doesn't have to think of us, we could do it for you princess." The car stopped outside your dorm but you made no attempt to move as the car was shut off. 
"Would you like that?" Minho questioned turning his body to look at you. The need to press your thighs together built up but Felix kept them apart, licking his lips as he waited for you to answer the question. A finger trailed up and down your knee and you shuddered, 
"Yes! Yes...Yes, I would like that," You spoke loudly as you stared at both of them, the two exchanged a smirk with one another before climbing out of the car and holding your door open.
"Then who are we to let a pretty little kitten go home needy," Felix growled in your ear, holding your arm as you all walked in the direction of your dorm room.
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Neither of them wasted time when they got into your room, attaching their lips to either side of your neck as you let out small whimpers of pleasure. You could already feel each of them smirking against your skin, Felix's hands around your waist while Minho kept his on your breasts, massaging them softly with his hands whenever you would whimper. 
"Here we thought you were the good girl," Minho whispered making you jerk away from him, 
"I'm not. I'm sick of people saying that to me," You spat at him your eyes locking with his as he tilted his head to the side, a smug look on his face. 
"Prove it to me," Without another word you pushed him down onto your bed sinking to your knees in front of him. You pulled down the jeans he was wearing discarding them behind you, forgetting about Felix behind you until he laid down on the floor. 
"Up," He ordered, you rose to your knees and he slid under you so his breath was right against your core. 
"Looks pretty," He whispered referencing the bright pink thong you had worn under your dress that night, 
"But it needs to go." One snapping sound later and you felt a cool breeze on your core,
"Dripping wet Minho, you should see her." A finger began to trace along your folds making your hips jolt forward, 
"So wet, pretty and-" A small kiss was placed on your clit and your eyes widened, 
"Tastes define." Felix moaned out in a deep voice, you whimpered looking at Minho. 
"The confidence seems to have faded from you kitten," You ignored him pulling his cock free from his boxer and smirking at the length. He was larger than you expected but you slowly pumped him in one hand, looking up at him smugly as he jerked. Minho shifted a little, leaning back against the bed letting his elbow prop him up. Running your fingers over the indent under the head of his cock your smirk grew wider as he moaned out.
"Good girl," He breathed out as your tongue began to caress him, swirling around the head of his cock before you took him into your warm mouth pumping your head back and forth while your other hand rested on his thigh. 
"My turn," Felix whispered pulling you to sit down on his face as you let out a moan around Minho's cock who seemed to moan out in pleasure. Hollowing out your cheeks you ran your tongue over the indent you'd found earlier and he cried out gripping onto the sheets around him. 
"Oh shit!" You moaned out as you could feel Felix's tongue running through your folds while he worked two fingers in and out of you, curling them up to meet your g-spot making you cry out again. 
Minho thrust up into your mouth as you took him back, moving your head faster this time setting his whole body aflame. Each thrust of your head caused his whole body to stiffen and he looked at you, holding your face as he began to thrust a little more. You smirked around him nodding at him to let him know it was okay and he slowly began to thrust into your mouth. 
"S-Shit she likes that Hyung, clenching around my tongue." Felix chuckled as he continued to eat you out aggressively as you rode his face, your hips bucking little by little as you felt an orgasm beginning to build up inside of you. Minho thrust up once more before his whole body shook and he let out a moan of your name, cumming into your mouth as he rolled his head back. You swallowed every last drop and focused on the pleasure Felix was giving to you, gripping onto the bed as you rocked your hips in time with his licks. 
"So pretty when your face contorts like that," Minho chuckled as he began kissing you softly, holding your neck in his hand lightly as he forced you to look at him, 
"Do you like this? Two strangers fucking you?" You nodded as you let out a choked moan, pulsating around Felix's fingers as he continued to thrust them into you at a rough pace. 
"Cumming!" You screamed out as your hips continued to buck as your orgasm ripped through you, your legs shaking as you tried to stay upright on your knees instead of falling to the floor the way you wanted to. 
"Y/n?" Felix whispered as he pulled himself into a sitting position, watching you as you ripped your dress off from your body, you were ready and you needed one of them inside of you. Now.
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Lips met yours over and over again as Minho pulled you up onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard as you straddled his lap. Kissing him wherever you could, lips, neck, collarbone, anywhere you could get your lips on him. Felix sat behind you naked, his cock pressed against your ass as you let out a whine. 
"Still so wet," Felix chuckled as he teased your entrance with two fingers, meanwhile Minho had worked his fingers down to your clit circling slowly. 
"Holy fuck," You breathed out as your head fell forward to rest on top of Minho's. Your brain was in a fog as they continued to tease you with their fingers until Felix sank two inside of you and Minho applied the pressure that made you cry out pushing your hips back into Felix. 
A third finger was added and your whole body felt as though it was on fire, your fingernails dug into Minho's arms as you cried out a mixture of both of their names. 
"Someone is ready for us," Minho chuckled as they removed their fingers making you whimper at the sudden lack of touch from either of them. Felix moved to the edge of the bed and sat in the same position Minho had before. 
"On the floor kitten," He whispered as you got onto your knees in front of him, this time Minho sat behind you with his cock at your entrance causing you to clench around nothing. 
"You sure?" You ignored the stupid question as you sank down onto Minho's cock crying out as you adjusted to the size of him. 
"That..Oh shit...That's a yes Felix," Minho moaned out as he held onto your thighs, grunting at the tight feeling as you wrapped around his cock. Smirking to yourself you looked up at Felix, taking him into your mouth and began to bob your head as you had done with Minho. The two men moaning out in pleasure as you controlled them, moving your hips up and down at a slow pace just to torture Minho that little bit more. 
"Fuck," Minho's hands gripped onto your waist and he thrust up harder and faster into you, his breathing jagged as he moaned out your name. Felix's cock twitched into your mouth as you began to roll your tongue around the head of his cock, reaching your hand down between your thighs to circle your clit. 
Fire was beginning to build in your stomach with both moans from men titling you over the edge. 
"Just like that," Felix cried out as you moved your head in time with Minho's fast thrust. The room filled with wet sounds and slapping skin as you cried out around Felix's length. Felix's hand rested on your cheek as he began to thrust into your mouth, grunting as he came down your throat holding you around him until his hips stopped jerking. 
"M-Minho! I-I’m cumming! I-I’m cumming!" You screamed out as he continued his sinfully fast thrusts until he came into you touching you deeply as your head rolled back against his chest. Clenching onto anything you could get your hands on, screaming out his name. Cumming around him as you pulsated in pure bliss, your whole body felt as though it was shaking. 
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Minho smirked as you slept in his shirt, they'd managed to clean you up with a warm wet cloth and got you into bed. 
"Poor thing must be exhausted," He smirked running his fingers over your face as your frowned in deep slumber. 
"That was a nice reward though for finishing our job," Felix laughed as he looked at your body, you were curled up in a small clutching onto the sheets and he smiled. 
"We should get going, paperwork to report and all that," Minho mumbled grabbing a hoodie from your wardrobe as he turned to leave.
The morning you woke up images of what had happened flashed before you and if it hadn't been for the achiness between your thighs. You would have thought it a dream and yet, you were laying there in a shirt that wasn't yours and a note beside your bed,
Until next time Curious Kitten x 
Written at the bottom of the note were two numbers with the boy's initials by the side of them, you clutched the note against your chest as you laid back. Enjoying the memories of the night before. 
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Tagline: @minholuvs​ @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @taeechwitaa​ @justbangtanthingz​ @stillwithlix​ 
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thebadgerclan · 3 years
Text
First Touch
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader
Requested by Anonymous
Summary: Your new haircut leads to the first touch...
A/N: I swear all my Kaz fics won’t revolve around touch 😂
Every one of the Crows had an identifying feature: Jesper had his pearl-handled revolvers, Inej had her knives, Matthias had his blond hair that stood out in Ketterdam, Nina had her curves, and your boyfriend, Kaz, had his crow cane.  You had yours too, and it came in the form of your long hair.  “Long” was an understatement, when it wasn’t pulled back, it fell to your knees, while braided, it came to midthigh.  It was beautiful, and it was the only way that Kaz felt comfortable touching you.
Skin, even through his gloves, was too similar to the sea of bodies he’d been thrown into, too similar to Jordie.  But he could touch your hair with or without his gloves, and it became how he showed affection.  He’d run his fingers through it where one might give a hug, he’d braid it where one might give a kiss.  When he was stressed, Kaz would play with a strand of your hair, twirling it around his fingers.  In truth, it was one of the main reasons you kept your hair as long as you did.
But it was getting to be a hassle, not only to keep clean and styled, but on jobs, you had to keep it pinned up so tightly that it hurt your scalp.  If you kept it down, even in a ponytail or a braid, it was far too long to be practical, and it also posed a significant risk.  An assailant could wrap their hair around your hair and take you down, and that wasn’t something you were willing to let happen.  So you found a barber on West Stave, and with a stack of kruge in hand, you entered the shop.
***
“Saints, Y/N, look at you!”  Nina was shocked, to say the least, at your new haircut.  The edges fell just below your shoulders now, a good 3 feet shorter than it had been this morning.  “Do you like it?”  “I love it!” she exclaimed, reaching out and brushing the H/C strands from your eyes.  “It really suits you.  But what made you decide to cut it?”  “It was just too long,” you said, brushing your hair over your shoulder, unused to how short it was.  “Impractical for a job, you know.”  
Nina nodded, a smile on her face.  “Well, you look great, Y/N.”  “Thanks, Nina.  Do you know where Kaz is?”  “I think he’s up in his office.  Why?  Wanna show him your new do?”  You playfully smacked her arm, laughing.  “Oh shut up.”  “You love me!”  “More than waffles!”  You made your way up the stairs towards Kaz’s office. The door was open, and you knocked on the frame.  “Come in,” your boyfriend curtly called, and you stepped inside.  “What’cha working on?”
Kaz’s demeanor softened upon hearing your voice, and you saw his shoulders slump.  “Just ledgers for the Crow Club,” he replied, not setting down his pen.  “We’ve been in the black for a few weeks now, we’re doing good business.”  You sat down on the chair directly next to Kaz’s, nodding though he wasn’t looking.  “That’s great, love.”  You couldn’t make sense of the numbers scrawled on the papers before your boyfriend, and it was among the many things you admired about him that he could.
He reached out to you, intending to crad his hand through your hair, the hair that no longer existed.  But his ungloved hand, for Kaz never wore his gloves when he was alone in his office, met the skin of your neck, and he froze, arm going rigid, breath stalling, eyes going wide.  His brain was screaming at him, memories of Jordie, of the Reaper’s Barge flooding into his mind.  But as soon as those feelings entered his mind… they left, leaving Kaz with his hand on your neck and feeling thoroughly confused.
You watched Kaz’s face contort, felt him stiffen, felt him stop breathing.  But not even a second later, his features relaxed, his arm slackened, and his breathing resumed.  In the place of his pained features now rested those of confusion.  “Kaz?” you asked gently.  “Are you alright?”  The feeling of his bare hand on your neck was electricity, and you wanted to lean into the touch, to grasp his wrist and to never let him go.  But that was a boundary that had been firmly established at the start of your relationship.  Kaz had told you and would continue to tell you how deeply and endlessly he loved you, but touch was off the table.
But now, with his hand on your neck, that boundary was blurred, for both of you.  Kaz turned his head to look at you, tears pricking at his brown eyes.  “I think I am,” he said, sounding as shocked as you felt.  “When my hand touched you, I felt the panic, the revulsion-not at you!  Never at you, Y/N, I could never be repulsed by you.”  “I know that, love, I understand.”  Kaz continued, his palm still on your neck.  “But then it was gone, and I just felt...normal?”
“Well… this is good!” you said, turning in your chair so you could look at your boyfriend.  “This is progress, Kaz, this is good!”  “Yeah,” he agreed, and he was almost convinced himself.  He withdrew his hand, and you suppressed a frown.  “Can… can I try something?”  “Of course,” you replied, and Kaz nodded.  He reached forward, his hand coming to cup your cheek.  None of the panic or revulsion filled him, he didn’t go rigid, his breathing stayed normal, and his mind stayed in the present.
After a moment, he smiled; a beaming smile that made your heart squeeze.  “I’m okay,” he said, and you knew he truly was.  “Kaz,” you said, trying not to cry, pride swelling within you.  “Can I touch your wrist?”  “I think so,” he said, breathing deeply.  Slowly, you brought a hand to his wrist, fingers encircling it.  Kaz didn’t flinch, didn’t shy away, and you couldn’t hold back the sob that left you.
“Kaz, this is amazing,” you said, leaning into his touch.  He moved his chair closer, needing to be close to you now.  “This…. Saints, Kaz, this is huge!”  He was smiling, and he nodded.  “It… it is.  I don’t think I’m ready for much more than this yet, though.”  “That’s alright, Kaz.  Slow and steady, as slow as you need.  We’ll get there, love.”  He smiled wider, thumb tracing your cheekbone.  “I love you, Y/N.  I love you so much.”  “I love you too, Kaz.”  The pair of you sat, his hand on your cheek, simply enjoying each other’s touch.
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starsstruck · 4 years
Text
strange phenomena; part one.
what happens when we meet again? you and harry have barely seen each other in almost a year. two ex-lovers find themselves in the same snowy town by strange chance, both looking for something they can’t seem to figure out. cafe run-ins, old love letters, and bittersweet nostalgia. 
pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, slight mention of sexual content words: 13.3k
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series masterlist
an: thank you for being patient with me. this is just a little story from my little heart shaped brain. thank you to @sunflowers-styles​ for beta-ing and being supportive and the overall best 💌 i hope everyone enjoys and please do let me know what you think ! happy reading xoxo 💌
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There was something unsettling about not having a schedule.
Your entire life, you had been told that you weren't supposed to  quit a job without having another one already lined up, and you had been able to keep up with that. Until now.
The impulse to leave the office that left you frustrated, tired, and overworked had been bubbling up inside of you for years, and it was only a mere couple months ago that you finally snapped.
Snapped, grabbed your things, and quite literally ran away. Call it a life crisis, maybe considered somewhere between a quarter and a mid, but there was something about simply leaving everything behind that took a temporary weight off your shoulders.
Which is how you ended up in a little town in eastern France, staring out the window of the café where you sat and watched the snowfall that had just picked up again.
There was an emptied mug on your side, crumbs of a delicious pastry sitting on a plate, and a blank page in your worn notebook. You had everything you needed to work: your favourite playlist softly playing in your ears so you wouldn’t get too distracted by conversations around you, not one but two notebooks filled with a year's worth of thoughts, and warm clothes that wouldn’t leave you with indents in your skin after sitting for too long.
But apparently that didn’t necessarily mean that you would be making much progress. 
Five days since you had gotten to Annecy. A friend of yours had moved out to the old tourist town a number of years ago after meeting her partner, and they were nice enough to let you stay with them. Five days of trying to work and still no progress.
You had daydreams of sitting down, words easily flowing as you would fill pages until the sun set. But it was only five days, a little leeway was okay, wasn’t it?
That idea of a bit of little leeway, however, was constantly being bullied by the big label of unemployed. You knew very well, soon the need for a job would be coming back and all those daydreams would have to go back on a hiatus.
But here on the fifth day, after picking at the crumbs of your long gone croissant, you decided to pack up your things and call it a day. That was the one thing you were able to do – tell yourself that today nothing would be done and that was okay, instead of spending the rest of the hours until midnight forcing yourself to do something.
So you buttoned up your wool coat, wrapped on your scarf and stepped out into the light snow to trudge back to your temporary housing.
Harry had seen you the second time you were there.
You were a creature of habit - just as he was apparently so - and you seemed to always return to the same café, the small but warm La buvette du marché, tucked away in the old town.
He nearly fell over his feet when he saw you sitting in the corner, earbuds in and eyebrows furrowed so deeply he could see the creases in your skin, even from the distance he stood away from you.
He left in a hurry, in a panic. He told himself that he had likely imagined it, maybe he was still jet-lagged, maybe his mind was tricking him, maybe it was some odd lucid dream during an afternoon nap.
But then he saw you again, on the fifth day as you packed up your things in a huff and hugged your coat tighter around your chest. You looked too wrapped up in your own thoughts to even notice anyone else around you, except for the quick smile that you shot to the older woman behind the counter before you were walking out into the darkening street.
Harry couldn’t help but slightly spiral a bit more. He tried to recall any mention from remaining mutual friends, or even acquaintances, about you coming here, but couldn’t remember. He even considered calling some, but decided against it in a quick grounding moment when he realized that it would seem far too odd.
Even more so, he couldn’t believe that you found yourself in the small town at the same time as him. In the same place. At the same time.
It was all too familiar.
He took that as a good sign.
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The seventh day – now a week in – you were back at the café.
This time you had managed to scribble down some ideas. Last night you had barely slept, tossing and turning as you tried to force your brain to come up with something, anything.
Just as it always went, as you were falling asleep it seemed like you had an idea going but unconsciousness soon took over and you were left with bits and pieces to pick up.
Today, you hadn’t gotten something to eat right away and instead told yourself that once you got a good chunk of work done, you would treat yourself to something sweet and a little break.
Harry, by not so much of a coincidence, was also back.
He liked the small town of Annecy, winter was a bit of an off season no matter its proximity to the Alps, and it was lowkey enough to where he could easily keep a low profile and go as he pleased.
He walked over to the same café in the late afternoon, hoping that maybe maybe you would already be there. It was making him nervous. But maybe you wouldn’t be there, and that would stress him out even more because maybe this was all a dream?
But there you were, twirling a black pen between your fingertips as you subconsciously chewed at the inside of your lip. He could tell by the way your chin was slightly protruding, and the way your lips moved lightly. He almost hated himself for being able to notice such a thing.
This time, you were the one to look up at him.
And lucky for him, or maybe unlucky he wasn’t sure yet, he was already staring back at you.
He could see a flurry of thoughts filter through your eyes. Your eyebrows unknotted for a moment, before furrowing even tighter this time with your mouth slightly parting and then closing.
He tried to smile, finding himself shuffling closer to you as he tried to recall how to use his feet and his voice. Calming down just the slightest bit when you offered him a tiny wave, he took that as all he needed to keep walking the path that led to your table.
And then he was standing a mere few feet in front of you.
When you spoke, it made it all that more real for Harry.
Obviously, you were physically there in front of him, something he couldn’t have imagined happening to him now, but the quiet “hi” that escaped past your lips made blood rush to his ears.
He cleared his throat – he didn’t really need to, he just felt he could use the extra second – before repeating the greeting back to you. “Hey…”
You couldn’t break his gaze. Seeing – and hearing – the hesitation in him, you almost wanted to tell him to leave you alone and try and forget this had ever happened. Maybe leave for some place else.
But you really didn’t want to do that.
“What,” the word was a puff of air. He felt out of breath. “What are you doing here?”
What were you doing here?
“Working,” was all you said, wincing slightly at the way the statement sounded. You felt like your heart was about to explode, like all words seemed to escape you and that the floor was about to crack open and swallow you up.
He only stared at you.
You sat up straighter, lifting a hand from where it was resting on the table to motion to the empty chair across from you. “You can have a seat – if you’d like.”
It was like he was on a three second lag, staring at you for a moment too long before reacting to your words. With a quick nod, he sat himself down across from you, bag falling to the floor near where yours was. He kept his coat on.
“Nellie’s really letting you work from here?”
You didn’t miss the slight pettiness of his words.
Shaking your head, you decided to ignore it and instead rolled your lips into your mouth before glancing back up at him. “No, I uh – I quit.”
His eyebrows shot up so quickly, the sudden change in his expression nearly made you flinch. He quietly kept his eyes on you for a moment longer, as if you were about to tell him that you were joking.
“You did?” He finally said, and if you paid close attention, which of course you were, you could see a little quirk in his lips. “You really quit?”
Unable to help the small chuckle that left your mouth at his reaction, you felt the beginnings of a smile pulling at your lips. “Yeah,” you said softly. “I did.”
A smile was pulling at Harry’s mouth as well – you could tell that he was trying hard not to with the way his lips slightly pursed and he bit them together. But he couldn’t help it.
“Well,” he cleared his throat once more and leaned back in his chair, making himself more comfortable. “Good for you.”
Another silence came over the two of you. Your right hand was pinching the skin of your thigh through your trousers to ground yourself, to remind yourself that Harry was really sitting here in front of you. Out of anywhere he could be.
Everything about him was so familiar. You recognized his coat, the dark green that you knew was so warm to be wrapped up in. His hair looked longer since the last time he was in front of you, but it also sat slightly messy and unstyled over his head. He was nervously twisting the few rings on his fingers – most of his fingers were bare which was something you hadn’t seen in a while.
Even the way he watched you, his steady stare that seemed to speak to you without needing to say any words, left you to be speechless. 
Of course, you had thought about this moment over in your head countless times.
You fantasized about him showing up at your door, late at night and begging you to talk to him. You thought about running into him when you were out for errands, and would ignore him altogether. You thought about him calling you or what would happen if you called him, what you would talk about and everything he’d tell you. You had dreamt of everything that could possibly happen, but now you sat frozen.
“So uh,” Harry’s voice broke you out of your reverie. “If you quit, where aboust are you working now?”
You bit your lips together. “I’m not…working anywhere. Working for myself, I guess.”
He gave you a surprised look once more. “Writing?”
You only nodded, unable to help the smile that was building on your mouth. And Harry couldn’t help but mirror it.
He took a moment to take you in, closer this time. You were dressed warmly, a thick purple sweater hanging off your shoulders that hit fairly low on your hips, over loose black trousers. The lavender made you glow – he decided it was his new favourite colour on you.
You had a different pendant hanging off your neck, and he could see a second chain hidden beneath the collar of your sweater. A series of pens were in front of you, and he knew that you had been toying with them based on how they were haphazardly thrown over the tabletop. You kept slipping in your bottom lip between your teeth, something he couldn’t help but watch as every time it brought his attention back to your mouth.
He shouldn’t be thinking about your mouth.
“That’s great to hear,” he nodded after another moment too long in silence. “I mean, you know I’ve said this before so I’m not going to say it again but –” he cut himself off, already finding himself rambling. “It’s good. I’m glad that you’re doing it.”
You chuckled again, and he felt himself melt a bit deeper into the chair across from you. “I’ve really barely started but. Thank you, Harry.”
It was the first time he’d heard you say his name in so long. He liked hearing it, he missed hearing it.
“’Course,” was all he said. “I’m happy to hear that you’re writing.”
Another silence when you simply nodded.
“Why did you come here?” He spoke softly, the somewhat elephant in the room getting aired as you briefly averted his gaze.
“Wanted to get away,” you said honestly. “And Eloise offered for me to live with her for a bit, so it was an easy decision.”
“Easy,” he mused, repeating the word as he momentarily pulled at the sleeves of his sweater. “Taking some time to relax?”
“Something like that,” you paused, thinking of how to ask him the same thing. “How about you – are you passing through or…?”
He lightly shook his head, drumming his fingertips over his thigh. “I’m here for some time.”
“Oh,” you closed the notebook in front of you, leaning your forearm over it. You opened your mouth to say something else, but you seemed to not remember how to form words. He jumped back in.
“I’m here writing as well actually – or trying to.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Album?”
“Yeah,” he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, leaning forward in the chair again to rest his forearms over the tabletop, similar position that you were sitting in as you both lent forward. “Been trying to get it done for far too long now.”
You remembered – you remembered in your last weeks together his frustration over his inability to be happy with what he was creating for his third album. You held your lips closed with your teeth for a moment, unsure of which thread to follow. He continued once again after you didn’t say anything.
“I’m here alone,” he paused. “Staying in a small place just outside of town.”
You couldn’t help the quiet scoff. “You’re never alone.”
He laughed to himself. “I am this time.”
You both felt like you were circling around the same thing. You were the first one to voice it. “So you decided to come… here. To Annecy.”
He looked at you dead in the eyes, as if challenging you. “Yeah, I did.”
Another silence fell, this one seeming to be heavier than all the other one’s combined.
“It was –” Harry finally broke the silence after what seemed like ten minutes. You wished your brain was working at the moment. “It’s really nice seeing you.”
You gave him a gentle smile. “You too.”
He tucked his feet under his chair, ready to push back from the table and stand. He was ready to leave the café, think about this moment every hour of the days to come until he managed to let it go. If that’s what you wanted.
But you didn’t.
“I’ll leave you to it. I don’t want to keep you from your work for too long,” he sounded nearly remorseful as he blindly reached for his bag at the floor, not wanting to look away from you.
“Wait –” you said way too quickly, but you didn’t care. “Stay – if you want.”
He paused every movement he was making, glancing up at you with a growing grin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, familiar warm feeling spreading through your chest when his expression eased. “We barely caught up.”
Harry slowly leant back into the chair, nodding with a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “Okay – I’d like that.”
He unzipped his jacket then, resting it on the back of his chair and pushed the sleeves of his sweater up over his elbows. Leaning forward again, this time not to stand but to take a peek at the mug sitting in front of you.
“Did you want another?”
“Still working on this one,” you smiled in thanks, grabbing the cup with the lukewarm coffee to take a little sip.
Harry quickly had his own coffee in front of him, clutching the little mug in his hands as if it would act as some kind of buffer between the two of you.
“I hope you stormed out of that office,” he told you, after once more asking if you had seriously quit your job.
“Wasn’t that dramatic, unfortunately,” you laughed, also wishing that you had the guts to cause a scene and walk out of work. “I gave my notice, had a very civil last chat with Nellie and that was really it. Can’t really afford to burn any bridges.”
Harry didn’t want to comment too much on your recent unemployment, the emotionally exhausting nature of your previous job being a hot topic of conversation when the two of you had been together. He decided it was best to bring up at a later time, if he had the opportunity that is.
“What are you working on now, then?”
You mindlessly picked up a forgotten pen, twirling it between your index and middle finger a few times before letting it fall back down. “What I’ve always said I would.”
“Book?”
You shrugged, not wanting to think about the implications too much. “Something like that.” 
He wanted to ask you about it further, but you easily changed the subject. “How long have you been here then?” 
“Just over a week now,” he took another sip of his coffee. “And you?” 
“A week,” you tried your hardest to stop the way your lips started to curve upwards, at the fact that you had both come around the same time. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, as a little nervous chuckle escaped his mouth. “How is the album coming?” 
His laughter died down. “Not well,” he said honestly. “Nothing really since…” Nothing really since we were last together. 
You nodded, knowing what he was about to say. “Keeping myself busy - I was actually filming for a movie the last few months.” 
“I read that,” you nodded, not realizing you were admitting to slightly keeping up with what your ex was up to. 
Another silence came across the two of you when you both took big sips of your drinks, you finished off the rest of the now cold coffee that had completely lost its charm. 
“You look good,” your voice came out a little quieter. “Rested.” 
You swear you saw a little pink hit his cheeks. “Thank you,” he hummed in response, having a thousand compliments ready for you but none of them found their way past his lips. “Are you allowed to tell me I look good?”
It was a cheap shot, but he took it.
You paused, a small smile pulling at your mouth. “Friends can compliment each other, no?” 
Friends. 
“Of course,” he hid his expression behind the mug that he raised to his mouth. “In that case - you look good - incredible even.” 
He added the second part on a whim, still staring you down as you refused to break his gaze, never one to back down from a subtle staring contest. 
A small sliver of silence passed, before Harry cleared his throat. 
“I hope I’m not keeping you,” he murmured, watching your hands fiddle with the pens that rested more or less untouched on the surface of the table.
“You’re not,” you shook your head. “I’ve barely gotten anything done either way. If anything, I’m distracting you.”
Harry bit his lips together. He was never one to complain about how much you distracted him. “You’re always a welcomed distraction,” he leant his forearms further over the table. “Not so much progress here either.”
“I have a hard time believing that,” you laughed lightly when Harry raised his eyebrows, giving you an incredulous look. “You were constantly writing. Never met anyone with so many filled notebooks.”
“I guess but I – I couldn’t make anything out of it, you know? I don’t know if you remember,” he glanced up as you gave him a little nod. How could you forget about any moment spent together. 
“Still feel just as stuck.” His brows knotted, staring at the table for a few seconds before glancing back up at you. “Sorry, for unloading this on you.”
“No, no it’s okay,” you offered him a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay if it takes you a little longer – if it takes a few tries.”
He forgot how much comfort he could get from your smile. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Feels like I’ve exhausted everything – like there are no words left for me to write.”
You couldn’t help what you said next. You didn’t mean to make it about yourself, you didn’t mean to even say what you did. You simply could not help it.
“Ever write about me?”
Harry stared at you for a few seconds. “You seriously…” he trailed off, eyes slightly wide on you. You had an apology ready on the tip of your tongue when he spoke again. “Filled countless books about you.”
You knew he wrote to you, leaving you little love notes or poems in your home or hidden amongst your things for you to find. Sometimes romantic, sometimes a little more explicit. But for whatever reason, you never imagined him writing a song about you.
He kept speaking in your silence. “You can’t be that humble – you can’t believe that I would never even think about writing about you.”
You didn’t know what to say. “I guess …I don’t know.”
Maybe you had been more successful that you’d thought in pushing memories of him away.
“To be honest, I uh,” now he was the one finding himself at a loss of what to say. “I didn’t want to put out something that was so personally about you. Wanted to keep you to myself.”
He lifted his eyes from the table, meeting yours before quietly murmuring. “Still do.”
A thick silence settled this time. You watched every small twitch in his demeanor – the quick bite of his lip, the bob of his Adam’s apple, the way his eyes flicked around your face just as you were sure yours were doing right now.
And they were, he was analyzing you, making new notes of your every feature that he could see for the thousandth time. He finally broke the silence, his voice sounding so loud all of the sudden.
“Come see what I have written.”
It was less of a question. Whether showing you old writing was really the only intention of the invitation was lost on you - and on Harry as well -  but neither pondered on it too much.  
You hadn’t said anything right away, but he was already reaching back to grab his jacket that was resting over the back of the chair. Slowly, you mirrored his actions and quickly began to pack up the pens and journal that had sat untouched for a good part of an hour.
Once you both stood wrapped in your coats and scarfs, with bags pulled over your shoulders, he met your gaze once more. “You coming?”
“Yeah,” you offered him a tentative smile. You realized you were nervous. Sitting with him in a public café was one thing, but spending time with him alone? That was something completely different that you weren’t sure you were prepared for. “Are we walking?”
“If that’s alright,” Harry nodded. “Staying just up the hill.”
And then you were off, following him in the thickening coat of snow that covered the yet to be plowed streets. Walking side by side at a safe distance, the falling snow hit you from every angle as the wind seemed to be starting to pick up.
Hugging your arms around your chest, you walked in silence for most of the trip.
At one point you were trying to move out of the way for a group of young school kids that were walking by, speaking far too fast for you to catch any words of their french as they excitedly bounced through the snow. Your foot caught on a lift of the sidewalk that was buried under the snow, giving you a momentary loss of balance.
Harry, however, was quick to notice. He had his arm looping through yours before you even realized you were tripping, as he held you upright and close against his side.
He knew that you were watching him, he could feel your eyes burn into the side of his face but he kept his gaze forward. The small kink in his lips gave him away though, when instead of pulling away you cozied yourself a bit more into his side and kept your arm tightly looped with his.
The rest of the walk was spent like that as you both trudged up the hill, out of the hub of the old town and out to the residential area. He quietly led you to his temporary housing, pulling out his set of keys from the inner pocket of his jacket and undid the front door of the building.
Walking up only one flight of stairs, you were soon being ushered inside a nice little apartment that could only be described as a character home. It was neat and cozy, just eclectic enough with tiled kitchen walls and different patterned rugs.
It was exactly the kind of place you had stayed in last time you were here.
“Let me turn the heat up,” Harry muttered, as you both shook off the snow from your hats and hair, hanging up the dampened clothing before warming back up in the apartment.
“Something to drink?” He called from the wall where he was presumably adjusting the heat, as you curiously glanced around the space he was staying in.
“What’ve you got?”
You easily found the kitchen as it was right after the hall from the door. A couple cups sat in the sink but it was otherwise clean. Harry joined you, standing across from you as he went to grab something from the fridge.
“”Have some mulled wine ready to be heated,” he pulled out a thermos.
“That sounds good,” you spoke quietly as you watched him work around the kitchen, grabbing a saucepan to heat it up.
He seemed to be stalling – you supposed you were as well. You didn’t know what you were doing here with him. You saw two possible outcomes, maybe three, but you didn’t know which one you were the most okay with.
Harry felt as though he had either been far too quiet, or was rambling too much. He wanted to ask you everything and find out absolutely everything and anything that had been going on in your life in the past ten months. He needed to calm down.
He heated up the homemade spaced mix, adding in a generous amount of the red wine. After a little moment while you distracted yourself with texting Eloise, you saw him pour a generous amount into each mug before turning off the element on the stove.
He handed you one of the mugs – a painted yellow ceramic one – settling to lean back against the counter across from you while you gripped the handle of your cup. 
You lightly blew on the smoke billowing out from the top, holding the mug out to him in a quiet cheers before each taking a sip.
It was still too hot, but you both seemed to be stalling from whatever was about to unfold and you took any chance to distract yourself that you could. The drink had been a good idea, and was already warming you up – probably both by the liquor and the temperature of the beverage
“Good?” Harry broke the silence, after swallowing another sip of the drink. He had one hand resting over the ledge of the counter, elbow bent with a relaxed shoulder while the other hand held the mug. You wondered if he really was relaxed or just appeared to be – you seemed to be having a hard time reading him at the moment.
“Really good,” you nodded, occupying your mouth with the beverage as you found yourself at a loss of what to say at the moment. “Thank you.”
Conversation seemed to be flowing so nicely in the café, but now it was like you had no idea how to be around each other.
Harry was nervous. When he made the offer to show you the countless unseen songs about you, he hadn’t really thought it through. It had seemed like the right thing to say, and he really did want to share that with you, but things were just so … uncertain.
He could tell, by the way you kept one arm crossed around your front with the other’s arm elbow perched to keep the mug by your lips, you were uneasy. He didn’t want you to be that way, he wanted you to be nothing but comfortable with him.
“So where is that writing you were bragging about?” Your smooth voice broke him out of his daze, as he lifted his eyes back up to see you peering at him from behind the mug.
Rolling his lips in against his teeth, the corners of his lips perked up both at the way you were looking at him and to mask the slight pit of nerves that suddenly appeared. “Give me a sec’”
Leaving his mug with you in the kitchen, he made his way to one of his bags where he knew was packed a series of old notebooks – all taken with him for any kind of inspiration.
Flipping through them, unable to help the way he suddenly grew anxious over the idea of showing these to you. Especially out of the blue. Especially after this sudden reunion.
Deciding what to show you and what not to, he triple checked that he had grabbed the right book before making his way back over to you. He found you exactly where you were previously, mug in one hand with the other holding your phone, quickly typing something with just one thumb.
At the sound of his footsteps, you placed your phone down on the counter and glanced up at your ex. Finding his place across from you in the kitchen, he extended the notebook out towards you. It was clearly worn in, little scribbles of words across the leatherbound cover.
You recognized it. From being perched over his lap, tucked in his bag, next to him on the nightstand. You knew it. 
“This was from that winter – actually think I filled it the last time we were here.” His voice was low, nearly distant as he tried not to look at you.
He didn’t know why he was sharing this with you now – maybe he felt like he needed to prove something, maybe he just missed you.
Wordlessly, you grabbed the worn book from him and tentatively opened it in your palm. Glancing up at him, he was clearly nervous and doing his best not to watch you read his every thought about you.
His eyes were cast to the side, looking out the window as if watching the heavy snowfall. With his arms now crossed over his chest, the thick knit of the sweater he was wearing bunching under his arms, you realized he looked more than nervous, almost worried.
You wondered if this was all a terrible idea.
Having not realized that you were still watching the profile of his face, looking at the way his eyes flicked from the window and down to the untouched mug that sat still on the counter. He grabbed it in a hand, the soft clink of the rings he had on against the ceramic being the only sound in the room.
You were sure he could feel you watching him, so much confirmed when the next place his eyes moved to were your own. Neither of you spoke, instead watched each other closely from either side of the small kitchen.
His expression was practically unreadable to you, something that you didn’t encounter often. You briefly thought he was upset with you, before he muttered. “Going to make dinner, if you’d like to stick around for some.”
Slightly surprised by the offer, even though you realized that when he had invited you to trudge up the hill with him to read a few half finished songs that probably wasn’t the complete intention.
Nodding, you answered with a low “thank you,” as he turned his body around and left the kitchen, no doubt searching for something elsewhere and leaving you to read alone.
Finally flipping open the book to a random page, turning a few pages until it looked less like a mess of scribbles and you could pull out several coherent sentences.
You found a small date written at the top of the page, and realized that this had been right in the middle of your last vacation in Annecy together.
You had to read over every word three, four times, before your hands moved without thinking and you were flipping the page to find more. Laying the spine of the notebook down against the kitchen counter, you leant over above it, completely captivated.
It was all so overwhelmingly beautiful. You didn’t realize that a small puddle of tears was gathering on your waterline until you blinked, and a few of them escaped and slid over the tops of your cheeks. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea.
It was everything you remembered about being with Harry. Everything you remembered about the last time you were together in the little French town. Every ‘I love you’, every stolen kiss, every touch and feeling shared. It had been the happiest you ever remembered being.
It took you months to forget, or maybe not forget but not think about. And in a flood of it all coming back, you couldn’t help the tears that seemed to come flooding out as well.
Shutting the notebook a bit too quickly, you remained in your hunched position as you sponged at your tears with the back of your hand, wiping them away the best you could. You hadn’t thought about the reality, that there was no possible way you’d be able to handle reading everything that Harry had to say about you.
“Done already?” Harry’s voice startled you, not having heard him rejoin you in the kitchen. You quickly blinked your eyes, knowing there was no possible way to hide the fact that you had been crying but you hoped it wasn’t too obvious.
“No, I –” you cleared your throat lightly, turning around to look at him. You didn’t know what to say to him.
You watched his eyes scan your face, expression softening slightly before offering you a small smile. You assumed the whites of your eyes were reddened, and the skin surrounding was damp and still shiny from the little spill of tears.
He didn’t ask you anything else, and instead grabbed a pot from where it sat cleaned next to the sink and brought it over to the stove. “Do you want to chop the vegetables?”
Nodding with a murmured agreement, he handed you what needed to be cut along with a cutting board and a knife. You were grateful that he glossed over the topic, and now you found yourself biting back a smile. Spending time with him in such a mundane way was comforting. He put on some music, a soft background song playing while you both started to cook in a smooth harmony.
Conversation was light. He asked how living with Eloise was, you asked how long he had been in town for.
It wasn’t until you were both sitting across from each other with steaming bowls of soup and warmed bread, each having poured a generous amount of wine into your glasses that conversation got a bit heavier.
It started when you asked if he had been out to the lake yet, even though the cold weather obviously meant swimming wasn’t much of an offer. 
It ended, however, with a heavy silence when you both started to recall the last trip to the lake. Nearly a full year ago now, it was the second day of March and your last weekend away in this undisturbed paradise. The air was still very much crisp and carried a winter bite, and on a barely warm night, the two of you had the terrible idea of taking a little night dip. 
After about thirty seconds in the cold water, you couldn’t bear it and had to step out into the even colder air. After shivering back to your rental, you had drawn a burning hot bath to enjoy together and both decided that you would come back during the summer months to fully benefit from the lake and hikes.
But then you weren’t together over the summer. 
Harry had immediately noticed your change in demeanor at the bittersweet reminder of the memory, silently cursing himself for bringing the conversation that way. He had hoped that it would maybe spark something in you, some kind or romantic nostalgia, but instead it seemed to just upset you. 
A crushing silence had fallen again, and at least you had dinner to distract yourself with. Harry instead decided to change the conversation again, asking if Eloise still had those two little grumpy cats, and if you were enjoying staying with them. 
You were lightheartedly laughing again by the time you were clearing the dishes, both the wine and Harry helping in the warm feeling under your skin. Your cheeks had been rounded with a smile and your mind a bit fuzzy, intoxicated not as much by the liquor but more so by the loving feeling around you. 
It was quiet when you came back to the rental outside of town, the tiles of the floor cold under your feet after you had peeled your socks off. The rain had only increased in your short trip out to the nearby Monoprix, picking up what you needed to make a nice hearty soup for dinner as well as a bottle of wine. 
After getting far too wet on the walk you had gone on during the afternoon, initially wanting to go hiking but the weather got in the way. Harry had stuck back while you grabbed your groceries and a fresh baguette as you had finished off the one you had during breakfast. 
Hanging up your damp coat and taking off your too itchy sweater, you called out Harry’s name after placing the groceries down on the counter of the little kitchenette. 
A faint reply was heard, as you followed the sound of his voice to the closed bathroom door. He told you to come in, and you were met with a warm steamy bathroom and your partner relaxing into the back of the tub. 
“Didn’t feel like a shower,” he murmured as you smiled down at him, eyeing over the bubbles that covered the surface of the water. 
“Hi,” you whispered, leaning down to press your lips to his in a quick greeting as he extended his neck out towards you. “It’s still dreadful out - you have the right idea taking a bath.” 
You sat down on the edge of the tub, feet flat on the tile of the washroom floor as your upper body twisted to gaze down at Harry. The weeks so far spent in the small French town were like taking a break from reality - time was still and you could spend all the time you wanted wrapped up in each other. 
“Missed you,” he murmured, wet hand raising from under the water to grab at your wrist. Pulling it towards him, he pressed a light kiss over your pulse point. You let your hand fall over his shoulder when he let go, when he instead decided he wanted to feel your lips on his again. 
You easily complied, bending lower once more to slot your mouth over his with a lingering touch as he sighed over you. “Lips are cold.” 
You chuckled an apology, shifting yourself closer to him as you still balanced on the ledge of the tub. Your hand wrapped around his neck, feeling the damp strands between your fingers as one of his hands grabbed a light hold of your arm.  He traced a pattern over your bare arm, before shifting his arm around to the small of your back. 
You remained like that for a moment, sharing sweet kisses laced with soft affirmations of affection, hands not wandering further from light grasps over each other’s bodies. 
Though at a sudden move, a not so light move, an unattractive squeal left your mouth when your boyfriend hooked a hand under your bent knees and gripped you firmly, pulling you over the edge of the tub and into the water with him. You giggled his name after recovering from the initial shock, the heat of the water a sharp contrast to the chill in your bones and the sudden movement had your head spinning just the slightest bit. 
You surprisingly didn’t mind all that much – in fact you didn’t mind at all. Wet clothes could be dried, and the way he held you so tightly and gazed down at you so lovingly you didn’t even realize that you were fully dressed in the bathtub. 
Harry held you tightly, your legs now resting over him with his arm still under your knees as you found your place in his lap.
“My clothes are all wet,” you bit your bottom lip down, eyes catching Harry’s with a gleam as you rested your cheek against his chest. You looped your arm tighter around him, easily supported against his frame. “Could’ve given me a little warning.” 
“Thought you liked spontaneity,” his mouth sought out yours again, this time landing a peck just over your cupid's bow. “And you just seemed so cold.” 
You laughed over him and he pulled you even closer, as the water seeped through your clothes. You lifted your upper body a bit, not minding the way your shirt clung to your body as you brought your other hand to graze along the top of his cheek. “Really missed you.” 
“Wasn’t gone that long,” you whispered. “Picked up some more bread - the woman at the bakery recognized me.” 
You could feel the hum from his chest before you heard it, as he stole another quick peck from your lips. “Becoming a true local, aren’t you?” 
“Guess I am,” you mindlessly trailed your fingertips over his features, tracing the curve of his lips as he spoke. 
There was a small pause, a quiet comfortable silence. “What d’you say we stay a little longer?” 
You didn’t really need to think about the offer that much. “How much longer?” 
Harry shrugged, although knowing you both had responsibilities that were eventually needed to go back to. “Maybe a few more weeks?” 
“I’d love that,” you pressed your lips to his, knowing that you’d eventually work out the details later. 
He muttered something against your mouth, something you couldn’t quite catch as he returned your kiss. His hands wandered under your shirt, quickly pulling the soaking material from your body and throwing it with a wet slap to the tiled floor. Another problem to be dealt with later. 
Your lips parted as his tongue grazed over yours, a soft hitting of teeth when you tried to reposition yourself over him. His lips slid down your chin and your jaw as you brought your legs to straddle him, the growing uncomfortable heavy corduroy of your pants needing to be the next thing to be taken off. 
A soft curse escaped your lips both at the feeling of your lover’s hands on you and at the cool air, when he tugged your bralette over your head and again threw it somewhere to be immediately forgotten. His hands cupped your breasts, warm and wet and pulling deliciously at your nipples while his mouth sucked over the sensitive skin of your neck. 
“Help me get outta these,” you whispered into the air, one of your hands fumbling with the button and zipper of your trousers while you held onto him for support. 
After much moving around – splashing water, and slipping over the smooth bottom of the tub –  the heavy material was tugged off your legs and thrown over the edge of the tub. Finally feeling his skin completely against yours, you repositioned yourself over his lap with a leg on either side of his as your mouths met.
You sank into his arms as he whimpered your name, holding you tightly around your hips. One of his hands wandered lower, brushing lightly over your underwear covered heat.
You were both incredibly hot - from the water and from the increasing tension - as you blindly grabbed at each other in quick desperation. 
Your hips pressed over his, while his lips were wandering over the damp exposed skin of your chest, and he moaned lowly against you, “love you close - love you everywhere.” 
He raised his swollen mouth from your skin, pressing his words over your mouth. “Gonna spend the rest of my life with you like this.”
“You should stay the night.”
You turned your head towards Harry from where you were carrying over the stack of dishes. “What?”
“Snow hasn’t stopped,” he motioned to the closed window. “And it's getting late. Better idea for you to stay tonight.”
You only stared at him with your mouth slightly parted as if to speak, but didn’t know what to say. You figured that you hadn’t really thought this through, and it wasn’t completely crazy that it was a better idea to wait out the night out here with Harry.
“Not stay the night stay the night,” he continued, easily noticing the little lift in your lips.
“So it was only ever about the writing then?” The teasing tone in your voice was evident, though Harry couldn’t help the way his heart skipped at the possibility of you wanting to be here with him just as much as he wanted you.
“I think it’s always good to hold out some hope.” He answered, watching your eyes linger on him for a moment longer before glancing away with a small chuckle.
“I know you’re right,” you hummed, turning on the tap to begin washing the small load that needed to be done.
“About holding out hope or staying over?”
Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, you watched him approach you from the corner of your eye before answering. “Both.”
He tried his best to hide his smile when he joined your side by the sink, each settling in without much discussion of you as the washer of the dishes and him as the dryer. “So you’ll stay?”
You didn’t think about it too much. “I might need a shower,” you started, keeping your eyes on the soapy water that you pulled a ladle out of. “And to borrow some things.” 
“Still have the same face cream,” his hip bumped yours – almost so lightly it could’ve just been him readjusting his feet. ”Welcome to anything you’d like, always are.” 
This time it was obvious that it was on purpose. Not so much of a bump but a nudge, a slow one as he leaned his body closer to yours and rested against you for a brief second. 
“I’ll hold you to that,” you said lightly as your agreement, trying not to think too much about sharing a bed with your ex.
The quiet that came when you worked through the dishes together didn’t last all that long before Harry asked.
“Been seeing anyone?”
You glanced at him briefly. A cheek was half lifted, the hints of a smirk forming on his lips as he eyed you.
“Why’re you asking?” You countered, the answer to the question obvious.
“Why do you think,” he let out a chuckle, although was unable to help but feel a little anxious at the answer to the question, especially in your silence.
“There was one,” you spoke slowly. “A friend set it up – a double date. Saw him one more time after and that was it.”
“That was it?” Harry repeated your words, clearly looking for more of an explanation.
“Haven’t seen him again,” you turned off the tap, wiping your hands on the dish cloth hanging off a hook before facing Harry. “And you?”
“Twice,” he said – if you were going to be honest so was he. “Different person each time.” 
“Busy boy,” you mused, trying not to wonder how long after you split it had been, or how recently. 
His smirk had died down, meeting your eyes earnestly. “Never saw either again. You're a hard one to get over.”
His words hit you hard in the chest, like a little stab of a knife deep and sharp. He had spoken lightly, but you didn’t miss the slight clipped tone of his voice. 
“Did anything… happen with the guy?” He asked immediately after, not giving you much of a chance to react to his confession.
You only bit your bottom lip down, holding your mouth shut. The soft lights from above seemed like they had dimmed, the space around you feeling smaller and more intimate.
He took your silence as the answer, a pit of jealousy building at the mere thought of someone else's hands on you. 
“Just a kiss,” you told him, barely able to recall the short end of date kiss shared between you and the man you hadn’t even thought about. “On the second date.”
Harry only hummed, arms crossing over his chest as he leant his hip against the counter. The dishes were nearly done and long forgotten by now.
“D’you wanna see him again?”
“Harry –”
“If you haven’t seen him since then it doesn’t sound that way,” he mused, cutting you off with his petty rambling. “Especially now that you’ve come here.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Wasn’t like what?” His tone was quiet, but as you looked up to see him again his eyes held something more, begging for your attention.
“I just wanted –” Stopping yourself, you couldn’t continue. I just wanted to stop thinking about you. Instead, you spoke a quiet “I don’t know.”
A heavy silence surrounded you for the millionth time that day. It had only been a few hours since you’d run into each other, since he’d invited you up and you’d easily agreed. You only looked away from him when his touch was felt over you, glancing down at the hand landing over yours on the counter, resting his palm over your knuckles.
His thumb softly brushed the skin. “Why did you come here?”
Harry couldn’t help but ask you again. He knew why he had come here, and he had a growing suspicion that you had come for the same reason – you were both just too stubborn to say anything.
“I told you, Eloise offered –”
“You could’ve gone anywhere though, I didn’t even know you were close with her.” Harry again, couldn’t help it.
You knew very well what he wanted to hear.
After a moment in silence, he spoke quietly and earnestly. “Did you miss us?”
You had to look away. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face, able to hear the heavy swallow in his throat before he spoke once more. “Did you miss me?”
You watched his hand lightly rest over yours, the way neither of you moved but once and a while there would be a small flinch or twitch of muscle as if the need to grab onto the other rested right below the surface.
“Of course I did,” his hand held yours a little tighter when you spoke. “We were good.”
“We were,” Harry repeated, quietly pondering on the past tense of the sentiment.
The decision to invite you up had been innocent at first, or so he wanted to tell himself that, but having you here with him was something he’d never thought to experience again. He asked you the same question once more. “Is that why you came here?”
Daring a few more steps towards you, the hand that was not over yours raised to brush its knuckles under your cheek, before grabbing a hold of your jaw. You were watching him closely, needing to swallow a thick gulp of air when he neared you.
Deciding not to answer him, as you both seemed to be aware of the true answer, you avoided the question entirely. “Is that why you came?”
You dropped your eyes down to his mouth when the corners of it quirked up, quickly looking back up to his eyes, almost hoping that he would avoid truly answering just as you had.
“It is, yeah.”
His earnestness shouldn’t have surprised you. You felt his words before you even processed them, momentarily reveling in your closeness. You were sure you were going to start crying again if he didn’t say anything else.
“Remember last time we were here,” Harry said, again quickly changing the subject. His hand that rested over yours moved up, sliding over the bare skin of your wrist before looping around to hold the counter behind you. Keeping himself impossibly close, he kept speaking at your nod. “Remember one of the first nights, in the park by the lake, the dancing, what was that called?”
“Bal musette,” you said without having to think about it all that much .
“Yeah,” his lips curved to a wider smile at the memory. “All the men wanted to dance with you.”
“They were all in their eighties,” you hummed, letting yourself lean into his touch over your cheek.
“Still,” he grinned. “We were good.”
You remembered the cool air, not quite spring yet but the ends of winter were apparent. Harry had held you close, he always did. It had been an evening of uncontrollable laughs, interlocked hands, and stumbling home in a rush. The late dinners, the indulgence in delicious chocolates, the walks by the lake; it was all too good. The entire time really, was a blissful month.
You knew it, you both knew it. Right now, neither of you could even remember what had led to a break up in the first place.
He was all around you, his arms keeping you in while the tip of his nose nudged your cheek and his face grew closer to yours. There was only a soft orange glow in the room, hitting off the top of his features in a way that drew you in. So close he became a blur to you, something you hadn’t experienced in nearly a year.
But it was when he tilted his chin down that you processed what he was about to do, that you let your head fall to the side in a quick move to avoid his kiss, only a brush of his cheek over your jaw being felt.
Harry let himself fall forward, his forehead landing on your shoulder as he let out a quiet chuckle into the crook of your neck. Neither of you moved from where you were, still standing pressed to one another with his chest pushing against yours and his arms on either side of you.
Moving your head back, you couldn’t help the breathless laugh that blew through your nose, not doubt tickling the skin of his neck.
“What was that,” you hummed quietly.
He tilted his head slightly, lips brushing over the skin of your neck. “Sorry,” he spoke, although he didn’t mean the apology all that much. He had wanted to kiss you; he still does. “Felt right.”
It was overwhelming, being close and personal with you once more. Harry moved his nose to the column of your neck, smelling the familiar comfort of the perfume that lingered on you.
“Felt right,” he repeated, voice muffled from his mouth resting over your neck. He didn’t miss the way you tilted your head again, this time not to avoid his touch but to allow more space along your neck as he pressed the lightest of touches onto the sensitive skin. “Didn’t it?”
He also didn’t miss the soft hitch in your throat, breath getting caught when he let his lips linger. Getting lost in you for a moment, when you lifted a hand to his shoulder, and wrapped your arm around him in a desire to keep him close. His lips pressed harder, parting to allow a quick lick of his tongue over the familiar skin. You sighed softly above him, feeling everything at once in a breathtaking moment.
But then you found your breath again, and spoke his name quietly before shifting away from him. “Harry –”
“I know-”
He sighed, a deep pull of air through his lungs when he pulled away from you. Just enough to meet your bewildered eyes, just enough that he could see every detail on your face without having them blur. “Let’s get to sleep, yeah?”
You only nodded, peering into his eyes as if it would help you read his mind. His gaze flickered away from yours, falling to the spot of floor between your feet before willing himself to move away from you. “We’ll feel better in the morning.”
You had no idea what he meant at all, but only watched him walk away from where he had just been. The quiet music that had still been playing was abruptly turned off, the lack of sound making the rapid beating of your heart that much louder. Taking a minute for yourself, you slowly followed him out of the kitchen.
“D’you mind if I shower?” Your voice sounded foreign to yourself, after an uncomfortable silence settled in the apartment.
“Go ahead,” his voice was distant, and you simply made your way to the washroom for a quick shower before likely not getting any sleep through the night.
Seeing the array of his toiletries laid out over the countertop was once more far too familiar, most of them being the same ones you had seen nearly everyday. Helping yourself to them since you were here for the night, you did your best to scrub off what makeup you had one before getting into the shower.
“Hey,” Harry’s voice suddenly invaded your senses, as he nudged the door open just as you were about to pull your sweater up over your head, hand stuck halfway up your chest.
Immediately dropping your hand back down as the knit fell back over your body, you saw Harry's eyes raise up to yours through the mirror. “Sorry,” he spoke quietly. “Just bringing you some clothes that you can sleep in.”
“Thank you,” you only looked at him through the mirror, watching as his eyes fell back down to where your hands were still holding your sweater by your hips.
Another moment too long passed with neither moving or saying anything, and just as you parted your lips to say anything, Harry cleared his throat. “I know, I know.”
He sighed, as if you had been about to scold him for lingering again and shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving you alone once more.
You showered as quickly as you could, washing your body and keeping your hair out of the water. You tried your best not to think about the way Harry’s eyes had slowly dragged over your body, even your sweater covered one. You tried not to think about the way he smelt the same, or the way his hands felt so good around you and the way he had wanted to kiss you. Or the way his lips felt so familiar over your neck, that if you hadn’t stopped him there might not be a wall separating the both of your right now. 
And it didn’t get better when you came around the corner dressed in his clothes, sweats bunching at your ankles and the crewneck looking warm around you. You shot him a nervous smile from where he was already in bed, placing your belongings next to the bag you had on the floor, before turning back to glance at Harry.
“Well come on in,” he smiled, trying not to let his gaze linger on you for too long and lifted the corner of the duvet up on the other side of the mattress. With the sleeves of the crewneck pulled over your palms, you tentatively slid in on the bed, trying your best to maintain as much distance as you possibly could.
Harry turned off his phone, placing it on the table next to him before leaning over to shut off the only source of light.
You rested on your side, daring to face Harry as you hugged the pillow under your cheek. “It was a nice surprise seeing you today,” you started, not wanting to go to sleep on an awkward note. 
He faced you when you spoke, mirroring your position from the other side of the mattress. “What are the odds that we both came back here,” he posed it less of a question, more as a quiet wondering. “Would never have thought -”
Humming in response, you didn’t know what the odds were really. Must have been pretty low, and the fact that you were both here and now found yourselves sharing a bed was not at all where you thought you’d end up when you got up this morning. 
He turned from his side to his back, looking away from you and instead chose to stare up at the ceiling. The urge to be close to you was strong, and it felt incredibly odd to not be near you as you both went to sleep together. 
“Goodnight,” you spoke quietly. You shuffled down the mattress and rested your head over the pillow. There was no way you were going to sleep tonight.
“’Night,” Harry hummed from the other side of the bed, lying just as stiff as you were.
You rolled onto your side with your back to the man you couldn’t believe you were sharing a bed with once more. You begged your mind to turn off, to let sleep take over your body so that it could be morning, and maybe everything would make sense in the morning.
But instead your mind wandered to every possible thought regarding Harry, and you rolled onto your back to stare at the ceiling. Trying your damn hardest not to pay attention to Harry’s breathing, or his own shuffles on the bed.
You didn’t know how long it had been, but you were starting to grow hot. Sticking a leg out from under the covers didn’t help much, and then you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You couldn’t stop thinking about Harry – about how you felt with him, about how he made you feel when you had been together. In and out of the bedroom.
Rolling onto your stomach for the thousandth time, hoping Harry was asleep so he hadn’t been hearing your constant shuffling, you squeezed your thighs together and cursed yourself for thinking what you were while lying in a bed with your ex. Wasn’t so much arousal, but just… neediness.
Not only could you not stop thinking about every touch you shared, the linger of his hands and his lips, but you couldn’t take your mind off of every single word you read in his old notebooks. It was haunting you nearly, an old ghost that was sitting on your chest and leaving you heavy hearted. 
It was when you rolled from your stomach to your back again with a quiet sigh, that Harry muttered against his pillow with a low voice, “stop movin’ around.”
Slightly embarrassed that he had obviously been awake the entire time as well, you rolled your head to the side to see him over the space of the middle of the mattress. “Sorry – can’t sleep.”
He did the same, turning his head so that your eyes could meet in the nearly completely dark room. “Me neither.”
You simply looked at each other for a moment, trying to let yourself relax enough so that you could eventually drift to sleep before Harry spoke again. “It feels odd, doesn’t it? Sleeping but not being close.”
You nodded, realizing he couldn’t really see your movement before speaking. “Yeah – I can’t relax.”
This time there was no pause between words. “Come here,” Harry said quickly.
“What?”
He shuffled closer to the middle, closer towards you. “Friends can cuddle, can’t they? Just – come here.”
You didn’t think too much of the offer..
You moved away from the very edge of the bed, closer to where Harry layed. He extended an arm out, wrapping it around your shoulders as you came closer and pulled you in to lay next to his chest. Tentatively raising your hand, you laid it flat over his chest before sliding it around him as you hugged him from the side.
It felt nice – normal even, being in his arms. He let out another sigh, murmuring a quiet “goodnight” before settling back down into the mattress.
You felt his hand fall lightly over your shoulder, fingertips brushing on the fabric of the borrowed jumper. You were hyper focused on your breathing, trying your best to steady it in a lame attempt of getting your heartbeat to calm down. But when you realized Harry’s heart was beating just as fast, you relaxed even more against him.
Sleep came slowly, but it eventually did come. At one point Harry moved positions, just the slightest bit, but just enough that he was able to push a leg against yours. Slowly moving your own legs, you let him rest his calf over yours with the small tangle of your legs. That was the last thing either of you remembered before falling asleep.
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The morning held a bit more tension.
Harry woke up before you, and spent far too long contemplating on whether he should get up or not. So long, in fact, that you had woken up and made the decision for him. While he feigned being asleep, you quietly shuffled out from under the covers. 
Following the sound of your footsteps to the washroom, he heard the door close behind you and the quiet hum of the tap after a moment. He wondered if you would leave immediately.
Getting out of bed himself, he first went to go adjust the thermostat as the air was far too cold after being out of the cozy warmth of the bed, and went to go turn on the kettle.
You were by his side moments later, each sharing quiet “good mornings” while he tried not to stare at the way your eyelids still drooped down and the way you pulled the sleeves of his jumper over your hands.
He knew the offer of coffee would get you to stay for a cup, but by the way you had rushed back to the bathroom with your clothes from the day before told him that you weren’t planning on sticking around for too long.
By the time you reappeared by his side, you were dressed just as you had yesterday. He knew he’d find the clothes you’d borrowed folded over his bed. You seemed fresher faced than last time, even catching a whiff of his lavender scented moisturizer that you always used to borrow.
Biting his lips together to hide his smile at the fact you had in fact taken your liberties with his toiletries just as he’d offered, he quietly prepared you a cup of coffee while your attention was drawn down to your phone.
You mindlessly answered texts, none of them that urgent that they required your full attention as you still couldn’t help but pay close attention to Harry’s every move.
“Sleep okay?” He finally broke the silence.
You paused, needing to clear your throat before answering. “I did, yeah.” Only after he had invited you to lay peacefully in his arms. “You?”
“Did as well,” he hummed, filling the two mugs with the wonderful smelling coffee. “A lot better after you stopped moving around.”
“Sorry again,” you suddenly felt hot at his mention of your irritation – at the reminder of how incredibly needy you had gotten for him to even lay a hand over your own. Taking the mug of coffee as a welcomed distraction, you cupped it in two hands to bring it up to your mouth, blowing over the hot liquid.
He dropped the subject, though, as he mirrored your action and you both took a moment to let the coffee stall the inevitable goodbye that was about to be shared.
“What’re you up to today?” 
He thought it over for a second, not actually having planned all that much. “Need to grab a few things from the store, otherwise not a whole lot.” He thought aloud. “And you?” 
“Driving to Aix-les-Bains with Eloise, some store over there she wants to see.” You had just seen the text from your friend, deciding to not answer all the ones questioning what had happened with Harry. 
You both took big sips of the still too hot coffee. “No writing today?” 
“Not that I’ve been that successful,” you mumbled into the mug. 
“You’ll find it,” he affirmed. “I know you will.” 
Your chest warmed, not from the heat of the beverage but from the sincerity of his statement. You hid your face behind your mug, taking a nearly too big sip that you nearly choked on. 
“Thanks again, for letting me stay and for… everything.” You placed the mug by your side, the caffeine suddenly making you nauseous. The words you had read in his old notebook still haunted you. 
Harry realized that you were about to tell him that you were leaving, and a small bout of panic rose through his stomach. “Of course -” 
He watched, dumbfounded of what to say, as you walked from the kitchen to where you had left your belongings and started arranging them in your bag and put your phone into the pocket of your trousers. Harry couldn’t stop watching every small move you made.
His eyes followed you around the kitchen, mind racing to find anything to say to you anything that would at the very least have you coming back to see him.
“Can I see you again?” He suddenly blurted, voice louder than it had been before, making you stop in your movements and turn to face him.
Your mouth parted and for a moment he thought it was forming into a ‘yes’, but it never came. And he didn’t realize that it never came because his attention caught on something else. Something that had been hiding beneath the tight knit of your sweater yesterday, something that he had forced himself to forget about.
He moved without realizing, taking the two small steps needed to stand right next to you. Noticing his sudden action, you turned yourself so that your body faced his with a small crease of confusion forming between your brows.
He couldn’t help it. Reaching out to where the small locket rested below your collarbones, he caught your attention with the small tug of the chain.
Oh.
Remaining quiet, you watched his focus fall to the necklace that had never been taken off. His bottom lip fell with a quiet exclamation, one you couldn’t hear no matter how close you stood. He turned it over in his hand, briefly wondering whether it was too far to open the little locket.
“Couldn’t take it off.” You said, as he remained quiet due to his current fascination.
You both watched as he toyed with the light metal in his fingers. Grazing over the small flat pearl that graced the front of the pendant, seeing it just as he’d last remembered it.
He had once again found himself standing desperately close to you. If he had moved closer while looking at the jewelry, he wasn’t sure. But when he let it fall back against the light purple knit of your sweater to meet your gaze, he realized that he could see every twitch of your eyes when they moved to gaze up at him.
His hand didn’t fall far, landing with a light touch over your wrist just as he had the night before.
“Give me a shot.”
You tilted your chin up, his words settling in with a flip of your stomach. “You said it yourself – we were good.”
“I know,” was all you could muster, the clear confidence in his words making your heart beat a little harder.
“And I’m having a hard time remembering what went wrong,” a humourless laugh shook from his chest, as he kept his eyes focused on the little locket that had been gifted to you nearly a year ago. “And seeing you here, out of all places. I can’t be the only one.”
“I know,” you repeated, very aware of the intense emotion that had been clouding your mind in the past twelve hours. “You’re not the only one.”
He lifted your wrist that he held, gently placing your arm over his shoulder to move in closer to you. You didn’t object, sliding your palm over the crook of his neck. You were unable to help but take a quick look at his mouth, at his lips that hovered so close to yours.
“Give us a shot,” he whispered, breath hitting the inside of your wrist when he titled his chin towards your arm. His lips skimmed the skin, pressing feather light kisses over the inside of your wrist. With the same light pattern of kisses on the inside of your forearm, he moved his lips away to instead focus on your face.
Placing his hand under your jaw, a similar position that you held him in as he seemed to be moving ever so slowly. Tilting his jaw up towards you, he let his lips skim so slightly across your cheek, so light you nearly thought you had imagined it. Just as he had last night, his nose brushed over your own first while he took a moment to savour you.
Waiting for any sign of hesitation on your part, which never came, he let his lips slowly fall over the corner of your mouth. Wet trail of touches that moved away from your lips and instead over to your cheek, he took a moment to hold you against him.
He whispered something over your jaw, you couldn’t hear him. With your eyelids fluttered shut and your head spinning, all your focus was set on what his lips were doing rather than what they were saying.
This time it was you, who slid your hand to the back of his neck with a much firmer grip. It was you that led his mouth to capture yours.
It was just lips on lips at first, a quick kiss that lasted barely a second. You pulled away before he could even have a chance to react, a small smile curving at your lips when you glanced up at him.
His hand slid up your arm to hold a tight grip around your back, while the other circled to the back of your neck, thumb brushing over your skin in soft circles. He pulled you in again, both relaxing into the kiss as his lips eased over yours.
Kissing him was everything good you remembered. The way he gripped you tightly against him, the soft touch of his lips, the way your name was rolling off his tongue in a quiet incredulous breath. 
His mouth was warm, inviting, fitting so perfectly over yours as you tentatively parted your own lips to invite him in for more. Your free hand joined the other around his neck, letting his tongue graze against yours as you tasted each other for the first time in nearly a year. It was all the same – like no time had really passed at all.
Feeling his hand circle around your hip, holding you close as a quiet moan rumbled from deep in his chest. You couldn’t help the content sigh at the sound, completely melting into him. He was pressing tight against you, mouth completely capturing yours while your breathing mixed and lips dampened. 
Your chins hit awkwardly when you tilted your head to the side and he went to lightly suck over your bottom lip. Though you didn’t mind the slight sting of his chin knocking yours, in fact you found yourself welcoming everything about him. 
It wasn’t until you realized you were sharing heavy breaths, and when your lips had been growing more and more desperate for the other that you needed to separate for a quick deep breath of air. 
He breathed your name with a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that was easily heard in his voice. “We’re still good.” 
Your head was spinning. His head was spinning. Nothing seemed to be real, at the moment but at the same time everything seemed far too real. 
Just as he leant in again, searching for your lips once more, you slid your palm down from his shoulder to the center of his chest and pushed yourself back an inch. “Harry…”
You wanted to feel his mouth on yours again, you really did. You just couldn’t bear to think what would come of it – you couldn’t revisit all the pain that you had managed to push away. 
He shook his head, not believing you were about to turn him down again. Especially after that. He knew he shouldn’t be upset with you about it, he knew it was completely valid on your end but in this moment he felt like everything was coming crashing once more.
When he heard the quiet and pained tone in your voice, he bit his lip down – his lip that could still feel the whisper of yours – and shook his head in disbelief.
“We shouldn’t.” 
A sharp pain came from your chest as Harry seemed to deflate against you. “If you don’t –” he had to look away from your heavy eyes as he spoke. “You can’t kiss me like that and then push me away.” 
He was right - of course he was right - but you were so incredibly confused and couldn’t seem to process a single thing that you were feeling. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, neither of you moving. “I didn’t mean to…” you didn’t know what to say, because you really did want to kiss him. You still do. “I’m really sorry.” 
Harry shook his head. “Don’t be sorry –” he sighed, hands falling from your body.
When he didn’t say anything else, you slowly dragged your palm over your forehead, feeling the sudden tension of the situation manifest in a growing pain in your head. “We can’t keep living in the past.” 
He hated himself for the sliver of hope he felt when you said ‘we’. 
“We were so fucking good,” he knew he needed to stop entertaining the topic but he really couldn’t help it He knew you saw it too. “We were a team, we were solid. I just don’t know,” he cut himself off, running the back of his hand over his mouth.  “I don’t know.” 
A thick moment of silence passed – you couldn’t bear it. “It’s too…” you had to take a deep breath as you felt a sob build in your chest. “It’s too painful to go through this again, Harry – this has been the hardest year of my life I can’t –”
You need to cut yourself off, shoulders shaking as you kept your eyes glued to the floor. “I should go.”
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bangtangalicious · 3 years
Text
cancelled (1) | myg, jjk
summary: you cheated on your boyfriend, one of the most sought after boys on campus, with the nerd from the back of the lecture hall. that’s not the whole story, but only you know that. now a video has leaked across and everyone is turning against you for hurting such a perfect s/o.
pairing: yoongi x reader, jungkook x reader
wordcount: 3k
genre: yandere!yoongi and nerd!jungkook exyandere!jungkook
established-relationship!au college!au cheating!au
warnings: reader discretion is advised. cheating, mentions of past dubcon activity, yandere behavior, guilt, slight oral (f and m receiving), reverse cowgirl, soft smut in a not so soft situation, manipulation, jungkook calls you his pretty baby, sexual harassment, yoongi is lowkey a creep in this, prostitution i guess but like...its not how you'd think, mentions of rape fantasy but it doesnt happen
twoshot: part 1 | part 2 | masterlist
They say that you let a good thing be. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Well in your almost perfect life, that hand was Min Yoongi. Your boyfriend of 2 years now. You met through family, he was an heir, and you were the daughter of a wealthy associate. He used to spend his spring breaks with your family back in high school. You recall fondly how he sneak out, begging you to cover for him, end up passed out drunk in some alley and calling you, scared for his life.
You saw the way he grew—no, blossomed into the amazing man he is. You both got accepted to the same prestigious university program, and it is here your love story truly began. Straight out of a movie, Yoongi did not realize how much he adored you until he saw you grinding your ass up on some random guy at a frat party. A few months of drama gave way to pure happiness.
Yoongi made quite a name for himself on campus. He was incredibly charming, was impressive in his studies, and was always around for a good time. He treated everyone with respect and had no enemies. You felt proud to be his girlfriend, by his side as he made his mark.
And he was so so good to you. While your start may have been driven by jealousy and rage, he made up for it entirely by taking you on weekend getaways, loving you sweetly, holding you while you cry and buying you food. You two were freakishly domestic, and you loved it. You were ready for the ring whenever he was. So blessed that you could wake up every morning in a pair of arms that held you like you were their whole world.
Unfortunately, paradise tends to be a destination never quite reached. You sat, curled up into your knees, trembling as you watched cruel comments pop up on a video.
ungrateful whore.
Yoongi deserves so much better
#y/nisoverparty
why would you even want to cheat on a catch like yoongi? jfc
You didn’t know what bothered you the most. Was it the comments? Was it your fucked out face in the video? You moans that clearly indicated pleasure? Was it the fact that you hurt a man you loved? Or was it the fact that he was still there, sitting right next to you and kissing your damp cheeks every time he saw a tear, mumbling into your neck that it was okay, that he wasn’t mad. Did you deserve someone so perfect?
“Aw baby” He coos at you, stroking your hair as your sobs got louder. You fell into his embrace, unsure of what to think or do. “Ssh…I’m not mad baby. It’s my fault I wasn’t there”
You didn’t know how true his words were. You didn’t know just how at fault he was.
Yoongi had been doing his work in your shared apartment in his private study which even you weren’t allowed to enter. The security footage of your lecture played on his monitor, but he was barely paying attention. He kept an eye on you, but it was getting unnecessary. You had been together for so long, he could trust you now. He sighed and zoomed into where you sat, whispering something to the person seated next to you. They giggled and slid their hand onto your thigh. Yoongi simply watched, a smirk playing on his lips. The whole campus knew you were his. No one would dare make a move on you. He made sure of it. It was the whole reason he made your relationship so visible. He had people’s respect, and so they would respect that you belonged to him.
The hand trailed up your thin yoga pants, cupping your core. You slapped the hand away and Yoongi grinned wider. He liked to test you every now and then.
Yoongi wired money to that man’s bank account through his phone. Now all you had to do was tell him what happened. There was no room for secrets between you two.
“I’m home babe” He heard you walk in. He popped a Xanax and gulped down a glass of water. He smiled at you sweetly, taking your bag and setting it down before attacking your neck with soft, breathless kisses.
“How was your day?” He asked quietly, “Anything interesting happen?”
“Nah. Pretty uneventful” He raised his eyebrows.
“Oh. Nothing at all?”
“Well” Yoongi’s eyes perked. Tell me someone harassed you baby. Just tell me. “I did try this amazing latte at the cafe in the Literature building.”
Why were you lying to him? Yoongi tilted his head. It wasn’t that big of a deal, it just made him wonder what else you hid from him. The little things. The little things that pile up.
Yoongi realized it had gone too far when he heard you gossiping with a few of your girl friends in the hallway of the Science Institute. “I just can’t believe he won’t fuck you. Doesn’t he know how many people would if they had a chance?”
“He seems so perfect but it’s almost like he’s just lacking the one key thing. Dick” They giggled. You rolled your eyes. You had confessed that you really did want to have sex. Yoongi wanted to save himself for marriage, but it was getting hard for you. When you brought this up with Yoongi he shut you down immediately.
“Baby” He fingered the purity ring on his pinky finger, “You know I can’t”
You had been frequently meeting with someone from one of your lab classes, a certain Jeon Jungkook. Yoongi didn’t love this, but he was acquainted with Jungkook, and knew that he likely was not a threat. The boy was not your type at all—his clunky glasses and sweater vests and his hair long and swept back, unlike Yoongi’s fresh blonde cut. Sometimes you wouldn’t tell him that you were with Jungkook, but he still knew. Nothing happened. But he still got irritated.
Unfortunately it was impossible to truly watch you all the time. After all, Yoongi was a social guy and had to make appearances frequently. He often wondered if you knew he watched you, so you waited to run off fuck yourself on Jungkook when he wasn't looking. He bit his lip until blood came out, raging at the prospect.
He wasn’t entirely wrong about you though. You did always feel pressure of behaving in a way that reflected well on him. So when everyone was looking at Yoongi, you were able to slouch your shoulders and relax. You would go to Jungkook’s house for a drink, with no ulterior motive on either of your end. You loved Yoongi. Jungkook respected him, and you. There was no issue.
So when Yoongi showed up at Jungkook’s doorstep a week later with a bag full of cash asking him to fuck his girlfriend, he was disgusted at first.
“E…excuse me?” He stammered, blushing. Yoongi squinted at him.
“Have sex with y/n the next time she is over.” He put on a show, “I just feel bad I cannot give her what she desires. I don’t want to deprive her of anything. I know she is fond of you so if you wouldn’t mind…she is very beautiful I can tell you that”
“I…that’s not…do you realize how insane this is?”
Yoongi shrugged, “It’s twenty-thousand dollars to fuck a pretty girl. What’s so bad?”
“Does she want this? D…do you have her consent to be asking me this?”
“Of course.” He chuckled giving a charming smile, “In fact, she has a bit of a fantasy that I was hoping you could indulge. I am not sure if she will go through with it but, she might try to resist at first, but really she wants to be used like a whore. She will love it, really.”
Jungkook gave him a skeptical look. “What the fuck? You want me to indulge your girlfriend’s rape fantasy? I’m not a fucking sadist”
“It’s not a rape fantasy. She just likes to struggle a bit but then she will get into it. She will want it”
“I can’t believe I am even entertaining this conversation, you need to leave”
“Forty-thousand.”
“Fuck off Yoongi. First of all, I am not even into y/n…” He paused.
“Oh please, she’s the finest thing in miles of here, you just haven’t considered her as available. That’s how I know I can trust you to do this for me.”
Jungkook gulped. That’s not quite it. He thought to himself. But the thought passed when Yoongi took off his watch and handed it to him.
“This is worth half a million dollars. Are we good?”
Jungkook just gaped at him.
“You have had sex before right?”
Oh yes he had. Once. He nodded slowly.
“Okay good. Please show her a good time and keep this between us”
“She knows right? She knows you’re asking me to do this?”
Yoongi grinned and pat Jungkook’s shoulder, “Oh baby boy, she’s the one who suggested it”
Jungkook found that a bit hard to believe.
What Yoongi didn’t know was that Jungkook already has had sex. With you. You didn’t know it was him, and it was long before you began dating Yoongi.
Jungkook had been obsessed with you as a high schooler, your pictures collaging the back of his bathroom door, a variety of your things—forgotten hoodies, dropped pens— messily shoved into the drawer of his desk.
It was an innocent phase at first. You were just so pretty. He couldn’t help the way his blood would rush between his legs every time you would glance in his general direction. He couldn’t help watching the way you outgrew your uniform skirt, almost breaking down in tears when you replaced it with a larger size. He would sneak out of class when you had PE to watch you run, and the way your breasts bounced in the tight top you wore.
You didn’t know him. Why would you? He was no way near your league. He worked extremely hard, dreaming to get into the same university as you on a full ride because his family could never afford it.
Jungkook would normally follow you home, obviously he just wanted to make sure you reached safe. You had been crying the entire walk home. Jungkook had to gather every ounce of self restraint not to go hug you and kiss you until you smiled again. He hated seeing you cry, and it made him want to die.
He was worried about you. You entered your beautiful home, but no one was there. What if you tried to harm yourself? Who would protect you?
He had snuck in through the back.
If anyone had been around, they may have heard a scream. But more likely the would have heard the cries of pleasure that followed.
That evening you told Yoongi you were going to work on stuff with Jungkook. You dressed modestly, not bothering to freshen up much. He watched through his cameras as you arrived into Jungkook’s tiny apartment. So much smaller than his, probably in more ways than one, he clicked his tongue in amusement.
“Hey Jungkook!” You hugged him lightly. He looked extremely uncomfortable which made Yoongi all the more amused.
Two people fucking who both don’t want to. What do you call that? Yoongi chuckled darkly.
“Listen y/n…I know that…I know I agreed but I just wanna make sure…” Jungkook could barely look you in the eye. As destiny would have it, you chose that moment to pull your hoodie off, giving Jungkook a flash of the underside of your breasts. He gulped. “You really don’t remember me do you…”
“What do you mean?” You were so confused. Jungkook licked his lips and crawled over where you were sitting on his couch, causing you to lay on your back. “What…hey what the fuck are you doing?”
He didn’t like your tone. It awoke a protective instinct in him. He stroked your hair and gazed deeply into your eyes. “How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”
You blushed furiously, face heating up dangerously fast at the sudden question. You shifted your neck away from him uncomfortably. “Um…I guess…3, maybe 4 years?”
“Tsk, poor girl.” He cooed, his finger grazed your cheek, “Alright, I’ll play along. You can let me know if you want me to stop okay?” He lowered himself enough to let his lips trace travel down the veins on your neck. He inhaled you, memories of innocent years coming back to him in floods.
You were frozen. His body radiated heat, his scent was giving you a high you couldn’t quite explain. You shouldn’t feel this way. You had sweet sweet Yoongi waiting for you at home. Sweet Yoongi who loved you, and was saving himself for you like the pure angel he is.
You looked up at the soft dark eyes of the man above you now. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu.
“Jungkook” You exhaled as his lips began kissing over your shirt, down the valley of your breasts, lifting your shirt so he could kiss your stomach. “I…I have a boyfriend”
“You’re really committed to this huh?” He chuckled, taking some of his fingers and slowly circling under the waistline of your shorts. You blinked a few times to try to react to what was happening but your body was overwhelmed. It had been so long since you were touched like this.
“Please” You said loudly, so loudly that Jungkook barely hears the “don’t do this” that followed in a whisper.
Jungkook thought back to the night you took his virginity. It hadn’t been on his agenda, he was content following you around and jacking off to your social media accounts every night. That night had changed him. He had realized then that he was messed up. He realized he needed help and he sought it out. A few years of therapy had done him good. He felt guilty about it for a while, but eventually had to grow and move on. He would never act like that again.
But here he was.
And there you were. Below him again. Begging for him through your actions and pushing him away with your words.
Emotions overwhelmed you. Your heart wrenched at the bitter guilt that you were doing the unthinkable. They very thing that you would condemn about other couples. How could you? How could you cheat? But your body was whimpering.
“I have a boyfriend. He’s so good to me. He’s so amazing, and I…I love” You let out a sob as he allowed his hips to roll into you, giving you friction you had craved for so long, “Jungkook…please” You knew he was reading between the lines. You knew he heard your consent, and that disgusted you.
“Mmm I know baby. I know you love him” Jungkook sighed as he pulled down your shorts, “Tell me about him baby. Tell me how much you love him” He began kissing your thighs, burying his face into your cunt.
“He’s so—ahhh” Jungkook took his tongue and pushed aside your underwear to lick a long stripe between your legs. “So good. So fucking…mmmmhhh” You squealed as Jungkook shoved his tongue inside you. The sensation was heavy in your core, but the sensation drove you wild. He flicked his tongue around, almost too easily being able to find all the right places to make you twitch and moan his name.
“Do you want my cock pretty baby? Hmm?” He whispered teasingly, his voice muffling against you as he continued to eat you out. You yelped as he sucked on your clit and nodded your head dumbly. “My little girl so desperate for cock she’d cheat on her boyfriend hm?” He came up for air, your juices messily spread across his lips, his eyes shot with lust.
“Don’t…don’t say that” You whined. Jungkook nodded before pulling off his sweater. You traced his muscles with your fingers, so defined and beautifully tan as he shrugged off his jeans. He took his glasses off and folded them carefully but you grabbed his hand.
“Keep them on…your glasses…” Jungkook’s eyes widened in amusement.
“Why” He teased.
“I like them. I like them a lot. You remind me of someone I used to like” Jungkook’s blood ran cold.
Did you remember?
Did you remember the way he had pinned you up against your kitchen wall back then? The way he left hickies all over your body, marking you as his. The way he had entered you for the first time, with you sprawled out across your dining table, then again on the counter tops, then again from behind pressed up against the window.
Did you remember how many times you both came? It was like a sex fest of hours and hours. In your mouth, on your face, on your tits and buried deep in your cunt, the condom barely surviving the pressure of his seed.
Did you remember the way you cried after in his arms, unable to walk? The way he held you and kissed you softly, apologizing.
Did you remember how he had given you pills so you would forget, hoping that you wouldn’t be sad any longer?
Jungkook had been too lost in thought to notice that you had pulled your own shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra, pulling his neck down so you could kiss him.
“Jungkook” You gasped as he finally regained consciousness and dragged his fingers across your pussy.
“Will you ride me baby?” His eyes twinkled in his request and you were more than happy to indulge him. Jungkook switched positions with you. You reverse cowgirled him, unknowingly, the perfect position for Yoongi to see all of you as you fucked yourself silly onto Jungkook’s cock.
You lowered yourself down on him slowly, savoring the stretch that you had almost forgotten you could ever feel. Your fingers could never give you a sensation quite like this. Jungkook shut his eyes and tried to savor the feeling.
“Pretty…pretty baby” He cooed, sitting up so he could nibble your shoulder and hold your hips as he bounced you slowly on his cock.
“Tell me something” He exhaled, feeling himself slowly approaching his orgasm, the feeling of your soft, warm walls around him too much to bear, “Did you want this because of me…or did you just need cock?”
You continued thrusting yourself back into him, the firm hold of his hands on you giving you an arousing sense of comfort. You wiggled your ass, liking the way he would grunt when you did.
“Did you want me baby? Did you do this for me?”
You cried out suddenly, feeling a long awaited orgasm overwhelming your senses. Jungkook’s grip on you tightened as he tried to keep fucking you through it, your body going limp, twitching erraticly.
“So pretty…my sweet sweet girl” He turned your head to kiss your lips, slipping his tongue in and relishing in the love you poured in through your actions. He caressed your breasts and continued to thrust up into you.
“Come inside me” You exhaled softly.
“No y/n…that wouldn’t be right” Jungkook was reminded of the eerily intimidating presence of the man who was paying him to do this. He slowly brought his thrusts to a halt before helping you up off of him, his cock still painfully erect. “I can finish myself”
You pouted, watching him drill his graze into your naked presence, violently stroking his cock. He licked his lips shamelessly.
“I don’t love you anymore y/n” He whispered too softly for you to hear, “I’m over you. I’m over this. This doesn’t mean anything—AAAAhhh” Your mouth was on his cock and that was all it took for him to come harder than he ever had.
He took you into his arms, wrapping them around you and kissing your face over and over again, caressing your hips and trying to relax your muscles so you wouldn’t be sore.
You reached for your phone as Jungkook began to fill the silence.
“Yoongi seems really great. He clearly cares about you a lot. I’m really happy for you, genuinely” He says softly, “I’m honestly really impressed he let this happen”
But you didn’t hear him, all you could hear was your heart drumming loudly in your ears as you saw the stream of notifications on your phone. Your heart dropping like a bomb when you saw the single message you dreaded more than anything.
yoongi: what’s this? <link>
And linked was a live stream of the events that had just transpired.
masterlist                                                       next----->
A/N: im just cackling at #y/nisoverparty HAHA um stream film out! woohoo
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sashi-ya · 3 years
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Ch. 4 ~ NSFW ~ Trafalgar Law x F! Maid! Reader ~ A Dangerous Attraction.
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AU : Mafia AU. Mafia boss Law. He IS a murderer.
TW: BLOOD. Mafia & murderers. Graphic depictions of violence. Smut. Explicit. Making love. Vaginal sex. Impregnation. Self harm. Marks, bites. Mental health issues. Trauma. Fluff. Angst.
WC: 4.2K
Chapters: one ; two; three; four; five; final
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33273136
Tag list: @rivvd-art ; @chocokaylarobin ; @fantasyfairysworld ♥
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“Law!!”
“Name-ya…”
Inked fingers squeezing around your wrist, your body hanging into the void. You try to climb, but little rocks fall every time you try to use your feet to push yourself up. The desperation and Law is simply not moving, he is just holding you. If he wanted, he could let go of you and you would fall instantly. If he wanted, he could kill you and no one would know. If he wanted…
“Law! Pull me up!” you shout, with tears in your eyes. He is not listening; Law is completely frozen. His eyes opened wide; he doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe. His jaw muscles are clenched. Your arm hurts, the only thing that is keeping you alive is Law grabbing you.
“Law don’t let me fall. Save me…” you beg with tears sprouting from your eyes. “LAW!!!” you shout. The time passes so slowly, so painfully scary.
Suddenly he blinks quickly and pushes you up. Your body falls over his, you are safe now. Law hugs you; he starts crying. Your head rests over his chest, but quickly try to release yourself from his arms. “Let me go!” you shout, in distress.
Law stops hugging you and you stand up, trembling, still crying. You take your hand to your wrist, massaging the fingertips marks he has left over your skin. “I’m… you don’t understand. I didn’t…” he tries to tell you, but he fails as he stutters nervously.
“I wanna go home. My home” you tell him and start walking back through the path. You almost run; you can feel him walking behind you. Law is sobbing, he can’t stop crying. You hear some scratching noises, but you decide not to look back. If you dared to even look at him, you’ll pity him and forgive what just happened.
But something stops you, you hear a loud noise and a whining. A painful whining. You turn around, and there is Law, kneeling on the ground, right arm bleeding from the scratches he has made on himself, swollen eyes from all the crying. He keeps violently scratching his skin, and he can’t stop.
“What the hell?!” you shout and run to him. You crunch next to him and grab his arm, “Stop doing that. You are hurting yourself”. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it…” he says repeatedly. “Stop, please. You are bleeding” you tell him, holding his arm. He puts his forehead over your chest imploring forgiveness. Your shirt gets damp by his tears. A mafia boss crying like this, so weak…
“Why didn’t you pull me up instantly, Law?” you ask all of a sudden. You know that whatever he says won’t stop you from running away from him, but that question escapes your mouth unintentionally. “I… I’m… my dad. My uncle…” he stutters. “What happened?” you ask. “My uncle… killed my dad. Doflamingo pushed him by the same hill. I was in the car looking at everything. My uncle said my dad slipped away because he was clumsy, but he didn’t. He pushed him. And I saw everything. And didn’t say anything, I was afraid. My… dad…I was seven”. And suddenly everything makes sense… he was facing his trauma, but he never let you fall. He saved you… once again.
You hug him so close, poor thing. You caress his black hair, rocking him back and forth. “It’s ok, it’s ok…” you repeat. A few minutes after he stops crying, “I’m sorry” he says, nuzzled on your chest.
“It’s ok, Law…”
But you can’t take this anymore. You are going to end up dying if you stay next to him. You definitely are.
Both walk back to the cabin, you start packing your stuff leaving only the maid costume over the big, still undone, bed. Sitting on the mattress you take out the photo of your family and look at it. In the photo you see your sisters, your mom and you in your father’s arms. It’s your birthday. Behind, a tall man running with a little boy wearing a white hat. You don’t really remember their faces. You only remember that man was your father’s partner. Both policemen. They were fighting against organised crime. After your dad was shot, you never hear anything else from his partner, nor the little kid. But you keep focusing on your family, and those happy times. You were smiling so joyfully, so naive…
You hear the surgeon at the door, and quickly put the photo on your pocket. There is no way you let a mafia boss see the face of your family members. It’s just too risky...
“You sure you don’t want to stay?” asks Law, now with a white bandage around his scratched arm. “I am sure, please take me back to my apartment” you tell him. “(Name)-ya, please, stay at my house. I promise I won’t talk to you” he says, tears building up in his eyes. But you remain strong. “Please…I need time to be on my own” you tell him as if you were begging him to stop insisting. You don’t know how much you are gonna go without succumbing to the dangerous attraction he represents to you.
“At least let me keep you safe, I won’t visit you, I won’t call you. But please, stay in one of my apartments. I beg you” he finally says, approaching you. You back up instantly, somehow him touching you, scares you.
“Fine” you finally accept. He is right, if you dare to come back to that apartment you might be in danger. Law eyes sparkle, he breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, thank you so much” he says, approaching you once again as he was trying to hug you.
“Stop. Don’t touch me” you command. He freezes right away, the smile in his face is gone once again. “I’m sorry, I’ll be in the car waiting for you” he says, crestfallen and walks away. Your heart aches at him leaving the door, but you know too well this is the best decision you could have taken.
Once everything is set, and you are ready, you go downstairs. You give a last peek to the cabin, the place where Law and you let your passions go wild for the first time… a place where he almost chokes you to death… Closing the door behind you, you were sure this was the last time you would ever be in this place.
Opening the door of that amazing black car, you throw your bag on the backseat and sit next to Law. He is wearing black shades, tears falling through his cheeks. He is not speaking; he swallows and hits the gas. You don’t dare to look at him, so your head is turned towards the window. The magnificent forest, nature, a place where you’ve been the happiest… and the sudden memories of you almost losing your life for the second time…
No more than an hour passes, and you are already on the highway. The radio makes the painful silence a little less uncomfortable. A slowed cover of “We Found Love” by Rihanna playing.
“As your shadow crosses mine, what it takes to come alive.
It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny. But I've gotta let it go.
We found love in a hopeless place…
Shine a light through an open door. Love and life I will divide.
Turn away 'cause I need you more”
“Tsk…” you express. “Hum?” he asks. “Nothing…”. There was no interaction, nothing. Law’s cheeks damped. Nose red from all the crying.
“(Name)-ya… would you prefer the 6th or the 8th floor?” he asks, sniffling. “Whatever you want, it’s ok for me either way” you tell him, feeling ashamed. You are leaving him, but still living on his property… this shouldn’t happen. “Ok… Then the 8th floor. It has a big terrace” he tells you and touches the screen of the car.
“Bepo, Law here”
“Law, I’m Pen. Tell me”
“Oh, Penguin. Please take all the (Name)-ya’s stuff to Swallow inns, the eighth floor”.
“Yes, boss. Are you ok? You need us to take some of your stuff too?”
“Just hers… oh, don’t forget the Kia”
Law hangs up before his friend could say anything else. His voice clearly shows how much he’s been crying; he knows his friend would ask. You simply ignore everything he says, you don’t really want to hear even though he is speaking via Bluetooth.
After two hours, you arrive at a luxurious apartment complex over the beach. A big sign that says “Swallow Inn” announces that this is the place you are gonna be living from now on. “Damn” you think, how the fuck your life changed so much that you ended up living in such a place…
“(Name)-ya, this is the place where the apartment is located. Our… your parking spot is the number 18” he informs you. “Uhm, ok…” you say, because you don’t even have a bicycle to park in there, but hey, thanks for the information. But, when you arrive at the said parking spot, a little black car is parked there. “Nice, someone parked on your spot” you say, sarcastically.
“It’s yours…” he says. “What? No” you categorically express. “Please, accept it. This place is far from the city, and there are no bus stops nearby. Please” he insists. “Ok…” you accept, even though you are sure you are not gonna use that car.
Law takes your stuff from the backseat and tells you to follow him inside. The place is modern, everything is clean, luxurious, white, pure. “Eighth floor” he says and presses the little 8th button of the elevator and a code. “Remember, you should enter this number so you can enter home, ok?”. You don’t speak, and just nod.
The doors open inside the apartment, again everything is so white and pure. Your stuff is already in place. Big windows show the immense sea ahead. Everything is perfect, so for rich people. “Law, this place is amazing. You sure you want me to live here?” you ask.
Law turns around, takes his sunglasses off. Swollen red eyes, more dark circles than ever. He fixes his grey irises on yours. “I’d rather you live with me. But this is the best second option I have to keep you safe”. You keep looking at him, you can’t take your eyes off him. It hurts so much, even more than the bruises on your wrist, on your neck… your heart shouts “stay with me”; but your head says no… no, or you are gonna end up dying.
“By the way, this is your phone. I recommend you use this one, it’s safer. Not for me, but for you” he says, lending you a mobile phone that’s over the breakfast nook. “Thanks” you nod and your fingers graze when gabbing the phone. How hard is this…
“Well, I know you want me to go, but, if you ever need me… just, call me. Ok?” says Law, taking his hand to your cheek, but quickly stopping himself. “Wait” you say and grab his hand to your face. He gasps but grazes your skin. You close your eyes and let your head rest over his palm for a moment.
“Thank you, Law… Give me some time, please” you whisper. “I’ll be waiting for you…” he says, and a few moments later he is gone. The elevator doors close, and your legs finally turn weak. You fall on your knees. You haven’t cried until now, and now you do. Tears won’t stop falling from your eyes to the marbled floor.
“Law…”
----
After all your tears have dry, you start looking around the apartment. Your bedroom is bigger than your ex-house. The bed looks just as the one Law has in his room. Satin sheets and white fluffy covers.
A wardrobe full of your clothes, old and some new outfits they bought you from the finest brands. And next to your clothes, men's ones. “Are these Law’s?”.
You can’t help but take one of his t shirts. You choose a yellow one, with black sleeves. “It has his smell…” you say, while taking the cloth to your nose. “I don’t think he would mind if I use it…” you say and put the shirt on. It has some kind of a smiley face stamped on it, and you wonder what it means.
The night comes, and your stomach growls. The fridge is full of ingredients, Law’s subordinates are so efficient. You cook a vegetable wok that you devour right away. The place is way too big for you, but it is what it is.
You inspect the new phone he gave you, such modern and pretty. You decide to pass all your photos from your old one to it. Same as the numbers. “I should call mum…” you think, remembering about the money. Where are you going to find any money to send them? “I can’t go back to the old bar; I’ll search for work tomorrow”.
“Hi, mum?”
“Darling!! I’ve been calling you, but you don’t seem to pick up. Is everything alright? Why are you calling from a private number?”
“It’s my new phone, I don’t know how to take it off. I will ask a friend to help me, and I’ll send you my number mum. Don’t worry” you lie. “How are you? How are the girls?
“Fine baby, but are you alright? You sound so sad…”
“I’m fine mum!! I moved! I will send you the address via text, ok? You should come someday! I have a sea view now!!” You act all excited, just for her not to worry, but moms know better…
“If you need mum, come spend some days with us darling. Ok?”
“Yes mum, I’m ok. I’ll be visiting you soon!” You lie once again, choking back tears.
The conversation is soon over, and after hanging up, tears run free. “I hate lying to my mum. Damn it. Damn Law…” you grunt, while searching for the picture of your family on your pocket.
“Where the fuck…?” You say, while searching for it desperately in your jean’s pockets. No sign of the photo, and you start to panic. The last photo you have with your dad, your seventh birthday…
“Don’t tell me I lost it, please!!!” You shout and start to look for it everywhere. Every place, every square. You can’t stop crying. You just can’t… something so precious to you.
“That’s what happens when you hang with the mafia… karma” you tell yourself before falling asleep, crying.
You wake up several times during the night, as nightmares invade your dreams. Law’s scratched arms, his eyes, the feeling of falling into the void. The day the police came to your house to tell your family, someone killed your dad. The way Law choked you… the way his hands were around your neck, the way his hips moved in and out of you, the way his kisses make you feel…
“Stop right there, (Name)” you say to yourself looking at the ceiling. How can you feel horny, huh? Are you crazy? “What’s wrong with me…?”. You know what’s wrong, of course you do. You are in love with Law and can’t deny it anymore. Your body misses him, you miss his scent, you are using his damn shirt to bed. You miss him so much; you are hugging a pillow pretending it is him.
Standing up from bed, you look through the big window of your room. The sea seems calm, sun is peeking from the horizon, still lazily resting until dawn. You sigh and say, “I fucking miss you… why aren’t you here?”.
Ding, Dong…
The sophisticated sound of the doorbell resonates all over the loft. “Fuck” you think, they’ve found you… Am I in danger? Should I call Law? Bepo? You tremble and walk towards the intercom.
Ding, Dong…
“Fuck” … you slowly pick up the phone of the intercom, and the little screen next to it turns on. The image of Law, a distressed Law appears. “What the fuck? I told him to give me some space…” you think, but he signs desperately for you to open.
“Law, what are you doing here?” You ask via the phone.
“Open, please, I have something important to show and tell you, I didn’t want to enter with my code” he says and shows a little square paper. Your most precious treasure, your family photo. You widen your eyes, “enter the code, come on”.
A minute passes and the door of the inside elevator opens. Law is standing right there; he looks like a mess. This must be the third night he hasn’t slept.
“Can I?” He asks for permission to even step into your -his- apartment. “Come in. Do you have my pic?” You ask ignoring the fact of wearing his shirt and only that over your body.
“Yes, but… I need to show you something about it” Law says, while looking at you up and down with a sweet expression. “Let’s sit, this is important” he insists. So, both of you sit on the couch. Law takes your photo out of his jacket pocket and puts it over the coffee table. “This is your photo, right?” He asks. “Yes, thank you!! Where was it?” You tell, but before you could take it, he stops your arm. “Wait… it was over the car seat. But, please, look at this…” he says and puts another photo next to it.
“L-Law…”
“I didn’t know, I promise”
“It can’t be, was your dad…?
“Yes, it was” …
Both of you start crying, recognizing how linked both of you are…
Law takes his finger to your cheek, wiping a single tear. You do the same, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “Don’t…” you tell him, and you two hug. Pressing your bodies, you find the comfort, the warmth of home. That feeling you only experience when you know you are safe…
Your faces so close, your eyes fixed. The sun slowly rising, invading the place with lilac and orangey tones. Law is fighting not to kiss you, and you frankly too.
“Fuck it” you whisper and plant a sweet kiss over his lips. And that’s the spark you two needed to become fire. You set all your zipper free, no more clothes. You sit over his lap, both kissing so passionately, tongues playing with each other’s. Law cries, you cry. But you two smile pressing your foreheads.
You see how the scratches on his arm became scars already. You grab his arm and kiss softly over each wound. “Don’t do this ever again, please. If you have the need, talk to me, tell me, I’ll be there to help you…” you tell him, looking straight into his soul. Poor thing…
“I missed you” he says. “I missed you, too” you tell him. Even if you haven’t seen each other for some hours, your souls missed each other so much. You kiss him so relieved… your head keeps telling you stop, until the arousal drowns every single sign of reason.
Law gabs your thighs and stands up, carrying you to the bed. He softly puts you over the mattress, and he settles over your body. Gently kissing your neck, Law takes his time. His hands grazing your breasts so softly. “I want to make sweet love to you, I want to be gentle, I want it slow” he says, because he doesn’t want to hurt you. You smile and take your hands to his face. “Do it slow and do it faster. Do it gentle, and do it rough…make love to me, Law” you tell him.
His “death” hands travel from your neck to your waist, and even lower. His fingers buried on your hips as his mouth reaches your sex. “Spread, babe” he asks with a soft tone. You do it right away. “Good girl, now put your legs over my shoulders”. And so, you do.
Law’s mouth attacks your core, licking, tasting, devouring your juices. He little by little kneels on the bed, pushing you up. Your legs are still over his shoulders, he has better access to your core as he keeps giving you the best oral sex you ever experienced. You grab the sheets, pull from them, as your climax begins to arrive. Law presses your lower belly, while he sucks your clit. “Come on, come for me” he says, muzzled by your anatomy.
You are about to burst, and Law penetrates you with his middle finger and ring finger. The licking, the pressure, the fingering… you come, squirting, bathing his whole torso with your juices, as they come out with such pressure Law is not able to receive it all with his mouth.
“Such a good girl” he says, letting your legs over the mattress. You are panting, that position somehow made everything better… “L-Law…?” you mumble, still trembling from the orgasm you just had.
“What, baby?” He asks while wiping the rest of your climax off his chin with the back of his hand. “Don’t you ever stop fucking me like this” you tell him, so naturally, so unplanned.
“I won't, I won't ever stop”.
Law lays in bed, next to him, enjoying how you come back to normal, and the blushed on your cheeks that screams how good your orgasm felt. But he wants more, and of course, you too.
“Come here” he says and helps you to turn around. He is spooning you; you feel his hard member over your glutes. Law passes his right arm under your neck, and the left one reaches your left nipple. He pinches it, twists it. Law takes his index to your mouth and makes you suck it. “Wet it real good” he commands. Your teeth graze the E tattooed on his finger while sucking it so sexily.
The same finger, shiny from your saliva, is now tracing circles again over your nipple. You moan, it feels so good. He gropes you with his dick, your back feels the warmth of his inked chest. You push your ass against his member, trapping it in between both cheeks. Law grunts, and moves up and down, frotting his hard shaft over your rear entrance.
Your hand reaches for the surgeon’s hip. You carve your nails on his skin, pulling you even closer to you.
“Fuck me, fuck me now”. “If that’s what you want…” he says, while he bites your neck. The hand that was playing with your nipple now grabs his dick. He aligns it with your entrance, lubricating the tip with your dripping arousal. He slaps the shaft against your labia, forming strings of precum mixed with your juices.
His gland playfully hits your clit, and you squirm with it. But you burn with the need of being penetrated, filled by him. “I want you inside, please” you beg. “You want me inside? How much do you want it?” Law says pressing his mouth against your cheek, his beard grazing your skin. “Fill me up, I want it so bad. Fuck me, now…” you whine.
“Ok, my darling. Just because my shirt suits you so well” he says and kissing the side of your mouth he penetrates you so slow, little by little stretching your walls. The feeling of the tip going in and out, without fully penetrating you deep, sends you to heaven as it grazes your g spot. You can only whine his name, feeling as he gradually goes deeper, in and out.
You can feel Law’s wicked smile over your cheek as he finally penetrates you to the deepest point he can reach. Your walls clench around his member as he speeds up the pace. “Babe, you feel so good, so tight” he moans in your ear. The sound of his voice could kill you if it was meant for it.
You moan soundly, sure the neighbours could hear you, but unable to hold back as Law is now fucking you mercilessly. Soon the climax road is taken, and you are sure getting to it.
“I want to see your face while you come” Law says, and quickly turns you around. Classic missionary position, the most perfect man over you, his whole anatomy, sweating, panting.
Law puts your arms up your head, grabbing your wrists together. His body lean over you while he pounds into you, violent, deliciously thrusts. The way the muscles of his torso tightens when his hips move in and out are art, the finest piece of art you have ever seen.
And inevitably, both of you reach orgasms. This time, Law focused on your face, he didn’t bite his lip, he didn’t choke you, he didn’t lose track of reality. Law this time was being driven by love, by the only need of loving you, of making you happy… of not losing you.
You come, and so does he. Law fills you with his creamy seed. He collapses over you, still with his dick inside you, pushing his milk deep in you. Returning his breathing back to normal, he whispers into your ear “I think I’m still in love with you”.
“Still? What do you mean?” You ask, confused...
CH.5
106 notes · View notes
michals · 3 years
Note
A scene with Five and Allison?
“You know,” Allison says, “At first I thought you might be a robot.”
Five looks up from the memo pad he found next to a bible in the motel room’s nightstand that he’s scribbling in, “What? Why?”
Allison shrugs lazily, swirling her plastic cup of cheap whiskey. “I mean, you did drop out of the sky right after dad died, looking exactly the same as when you left. Plus I can name at least three villains who’d probably still be happy to mess with us.” She gives a thoughtful frown. “Or would have been happy to.”
Five’s ready to argue about that, because of course he’s not a robot that’s ridiculous, but…then again, it’s no more ridiculous than anything else that’s happened. Besides, mom exists. Existed. Maybe. There’s no answer to that question yet.
Five twists in the cheap plastic pool chair he’s sitting in. “When’d you figure out I wasn’t?”
Allison smirks, “When you starting insulting Diego. I mean I’m sure plenty of them would want to, it was just a little too on the nose.”
Five has to give her that one too.
Allison pushes back from the patio table she’s leaning on and gets up from her own cheap plastic chair, leaving her still almost full glass as she meanders over to the pool Five’s sitting next to. She shucks her shoes and sits down to put her feet in the water. She gives a hum like something amuses her about it but doesn’t explain herself to Five.
Five turns back to the notepad in front of him, pen poised above it ready to write…nothing. Nothing worthwhile anyway. There’s no math to be figured here – the timeline’s just royally fucked up because they fucked it up. All they’ve got right now is this shitty motel they’ve taken up refuge in and a couple of bottles of alcohol bought with money from the 1960s. He gives up, drops the paper on the cement with a huff.
It’s gotta be midnight, maybe later, the motel is quiet and only he and Allison remain outside. Klaus and Luther killed a bottle of rum between them before anyone noticed and Allison had forced them off to bed but the light in their room’s still on. Diego and Vanya gave up the ghost a little while ago, mumbling goodnights. Five’s too wound up to sleep yet, he’s not sure why Allison’s still up.
“We did always wonder where you’d gone,” Allison says to him over her shoulder, and it actually catches Five off guard.
He hasn’t had three seconds to spare thinking about it in the scant two weeks he’s been back with them, his world too chaotic, time moving at a pace he can only do his best to keep up with. But he had thought about it before, in those 45 years, he wondered sometimes what his siblings thought happened to him.
He settles back into the chair. “What’d you come up with?”
Allison smiles, tilts her head as she says, “Klaus thought you ran off to the circus. ‘The Amazing Disappearing Boy’. He was always jealous you got to ride the elephants and pet lions.”
Five can’t help the small smile that tugs at his mouth. Of course Klaus would be jealous even though it wasn’t true. “What else?” He asks.
“Diego thought you joined the FBI or the…CIA or whatever. Or some secret underground cabal of superscientists. And Ben-” she shakes her head with a soft laugh, “Ben would joke you’d come back to us as a supervillain yourself and we’d have to fight you.”
Five does smile at that. Ben was sneaky like that, he looked like the quiet one, the shy one, but Five can imagine him teasing the others with something like that. Probably even came up with a fake scenario worthy of one of their comic books.
Five won’t ask what Vanya thought, he knows enough from her book that she probably never told them. “Luther?”
Allison twists around to fully face him, propped up against her arm. “Well one time he asked me if I thought you’d succeeded. I think he wanted to believe you had.”
He’d had an argument with Luther the day before he left, he thought it was because Luther didn’t believe in him but Five’d had plenty of time to replay it in his head and now he can’t say for sure what it was really about.
“What about you?” Five asks. It’s not adrenaline keeping him awake anymore but it’s a buzz sort of like it as he listens to his sister tell him these things he’d always wanted to know.
Allison pauses, watches the ripples she’s kicking up in the water. “I thought what we all reallythought: you’d run away. You ran out the door and kept running.”
He’d run too far, he hadn’t meant to.
“We thought you’d decided you didn’t want to come back, that you were sick of dad and the Academy and you didn’t want to do the whole ‘hero’ thing, so you found a new family and you started a new life.” She shrugs, her smile somewhere between sad and wistful.
He wants to tell her that’s not true, that’s not true at all. Not just because it’s not what happened but because it’s not what he wanted to happen. He already had a family, for everything he hated it was never them. But he can’t seem to make the words come.
Allison’s back to looking across the pool as she continues. “We imagined you in one of those nice little houses we’d see through the car windows. Ben and Luther would say you’d have a room full of books and toys and Diego said you’d get to stay up late, Klaus said you had ice cream for dinner every night. I thought you’d maybe have a pet, like a dog or a cat.” When she looks over her shoulder her eyes twinkle with amusement. “Although, honestly, sometimes I’d imagine you in a boarding school, in a house all covered in vines-”
“Like Madeline,” Five finishes. She’d loved that book at a kid, Mom would read it to them.
Allison grins. “Like Madeline.”
If only, Five thinks. If only he’d failed and simply refused to turn around, if he’d found a new home and a new family. Unlike her though, unlike all of them, he can’t imagine them. Can’t imagine the kind of family he’d run to, who those people would be. He’d never considered anyone else a possibility, he’s surprised now to think they’d thought he could.
Allison’s gaze goes distant. “Ben…it was different with Ben. We knew he was gone. But Five-” she pauses, her attention coming back to him, “we just thought you’d run away.”
He shakes his head. “It was never you guys, you know. It’s not that I wanted to leave you.” He hates how scratchy his voice sounds.
Her smile returns, softer this time, “You came back at least.”
Five lets out a harsh breath, furrows his brow. “I sure did didn’t I?”
Allison throws her head back and laughs out loud, Five is surprised to find himself grinning.
She settles and shakes her head to herself, another private thought that Five is more hopeful about hearing someday. She swings her legs out of the pool and picks up her shoes. “Alright, bed time I think.”
Five was originally going to share a room with Luther until Klaus had been shooed off with him earlier so now the only bed left is the other twin in Allison’s room. Allison gives a little wave of her hand like she expects him to follow like of course he should. They leave their shoes at the ends of the beds, and Allison turns off the lamp on the nightstand between them.
“I could still be a robot,” Five says, “or a supervillain.” Allison laughs again.
Five thinks he should be disappointed that his siblings thought that he’d just decided he didn’t want to be around them and that he’d been happy for so long without them. Disappointed that they were so sure of it that they’d never thought to look for him. But he can’t be because all their ideas were better than the reality and he finds he likes that they came up with all these happy fantasies for him. To them he’d lead a very different life. Then he came back and proved them all wrong in the worst way.
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comfortwriting · 4 years
Text
Unbreak My Heart - F.W
Fred Weasley X Reader Part 2 of ‘Call Out My Name’, inspired by the song ‘Unbreak My Heart’ by Toni Braxton.
Part 1 , Part 3
About: Fred realises he has everything wrong. His heart aching for the reader after pushing her aside for someone else, he searches for her to apologise for what he’s done and to admit his true feelings for her.
Theme: Heartache, sadness, moving on, relationships, rumours.
Warnings: mentions of raw emotions, *incredibly light* smut, depression, body image issues and swearing.
Don't leave me in all this pain Don't leave me out in the rain Come back and bring back my smile Come and take these tears away I need your arms to hold me now The nights are so unkind Bring back those nights when I held you beside me
The first thirteen months without Fred were the worst. You couldn’t face visiting Weasleys Wizard Wheezes no matter how many times George asked in his letters which you ignored. You couldn’t go into Diagon Alley without hearing news about The Weasleys - more importantly, the news about Fred and his darling; they were now engaged.
You kept to your bedroom, crying to sleep every night, looking through all the pictures you had taken of and with Fred over the years that you were with him. Letters you had written to him laid scrunched up all over your floor like an author going mad over a sticky, confusing, part of the story - but that was exactly what this was. 
Everywhere you went as you entered Diagon Alley, you were forced to listen to the news over and over again that the shop was a success. You wanted to congratulate George, but after ignoring him for so long you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up a pen to reach out to him.
Too afraid to let anyone in after the damage Fred inflicted on you, you didn’t bother meeting anyone new.
Plenty of people offered and even your sister tried to match you up with a friend of hers from work, but you declined and allowed Fred’s damage to take over you.
You only left the house for work which was torture enough as you worked with Percy at the Ministry. You ate one meal a day which was an apple on your lunch break. You didn’t dream of moving out despite your parents encouragement and you simply just collapsed in on yourself whilst your family constantly complained about Fred, swearing that you chose the wrong twin.
Although you hated Fred - or at least convinced yourself that you did - you still thought about him every single day, and at bedtime you would envision yourself back on his sofa in his arms underneath that scratchy patchwork blanket you shared many memories under. 
Laying awake staring at the ceiling, you took a deep breath. It had been over a year. You couldn’t go on like this. You needed to claim your life back, one step at a time. Sitting up in your bed, you grabbed the last of your parchment and leaned it against an old book. Dipping your feather quill into your ink pot that rested beside your bed next to the framed picture of you and Fred, you wrote to George.
You began apologising for not replying and for not visiting the shop, explaining why, and asked how everything was going - you missed your friend and it became suffocating to ignore him reaching out.
Un-break my heart Say you'll love me again Undo this hurt you caused When you walked out the door And walked out of my life Un-cry these tears I cried so many nights Un-break my heart My heart
It had been another five months since you wrote your letter to George and you were still waiting for a reply. You told yourself that perhaps he got too busy with the shop or he just didn’t want to mend things after you ignored him for so long. Either way, you didn’t ponder on it, sprayed yourself with some perfume, and got ready to leave for your third date this week.
George wasn’t ignoring you on purpose. He truly was too busy with not just everything at the shop, but also helping Fred plan out this so-called wedding and engagement party that came out of nowhere. He planned to write back but time got the better of him, he knew you wouldn’t take it personally.
“Oh look at you!” your sister grinned, “Same guy?” she asked enthusiastically. 
“No,” you shook your head and grabbed your coat, putting it on, “I don’t see the same guy twice if the spark isn’t there.”
Your sister smiled to herself and told you to have a good time. You enjoyed yourself temporarily until you remembered Fred Weasley and what he did. He was the reason why you decided against seeing the same person twice. If there was no chemistry during intimacy you moved on. Speed dating was the perfect temporary aid you needed at the moment.  
And just like Fred and his fiancé, word got out about you and how desirable you were. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, you started looking after yourself and forced yourself into the limelight. Even if it didn’t result in finding your true love, you still wanted to have fun along the way.
Your parents went to The Leaky Cauldron, and just as they were leaving, they bumped into Molly and Arthur Weasley. Your parents flinched at first sight, but swallowed the anger they had towards their son Fred.
“Oh Mr and Mrs Y/LN! what a lovely surprise to see you!” Molly chirped up. George turned his head and stood up to greet your parents. Unlike Fred, they loved George.
“And you.” Your father replied, his voice monotone.
“We haven’t seen your daughter for ages. We missed her last summer, please ask her to come and see us. George misses her and it’s our Freddie's engagement party tonight!” Molly babbled on, pointing to George when she mentioned him and Fred.
Molly and Arthur loved you coming over to the burrow. They loved you even more seeing how happy you made their son. In their eyes you brought out the best in him. On the other hand, they weren’t keen on the girl Fred decided to marry, she was inconsiderate, selfish and didn’t know what hard work was - she was handed everything she ever wanted, the exact opposite to you.
Your fathers face flushed with frustration. Didn’t they know why you never came around anymore? Were they not aware that Fred was the reason she screamed and cried every night for over a year?
Your mother hesitated but decided against holding back. She liked the Weasley family, but she couldn’t allow Fred to get away with what he had done. 
“Maybe you should ask your darling boy, Fred. Or maybe George will tell you, he’s the decent one of the two.” 
Your mother said no more and stormed out of the packed pub, your father trailing behind nodding a goodbye to George. Molly and Arthur stood there speechless and looked over at George, demanding that he tells them what happened as soon as they arrive home when everyone has gone to bed.
Fred felt strange throughout the whole party. He didn’t feel happy like he thought he would - he hadn’t been feeling happy for the past five months. Something in his life just didn’t feel right and he couldn’t put his finger on what was wrong -waking up next to his girlfriend made him feel sick and he realised how stupid he was thinking that getting engaged would make everything better.
Molly, Arthur and George sat at the dining table when everyone else was in bed. “George you better tell me what happened, now!” Molly hissed in a low whisper.
George spilled absolutely everything, from beginning to end. As much as he loved his twin, he didn’t shy away from any details even if they showed Fred for exactly who he was, and the awful things he did. Molly and Arthur were outraged at their child's behaviour. Molly had to restrain herself at the table whilst she sobbed into her hands.
Far away, you panted heavily as you came down from your high with your date. Unmounting him, you laid beside him in his bed. He took off his condom and breathlessly offered taking a shower with him. You accepted his offer knowing that you could go home straight after, you wouldn’t need to stress about hurrying in the morning to get to work on time. 
Take back that sad word goodbye Bring back the joy to my life Don't leave me here with these tears Come and kiss this pain away I can't forget the day you left Time is so unkind And life is so cruel without you here beside me
Work at the ministry became more tolerable over the next six months. Percy smiled at you more often and you couldn’t understand why. You didn’t look into it and simply smiled back. You flourished even more within the same time - you had got into a relationship with the one night stand you shared a shower with. The curly haired bookshop assistant grew on you and you didn’t mind, he often made you laugh so hard you burst into tears.
Whilst you were finding yourself, running with the wind, Fred had fallen apart completely. He overheard George spilling his guts, and finally realised why everything felt so wrong, why he wasn’t happy. You were the missing piece. His guilt and mistakes were eating him alive. He broke off the engagement - to his parents delight - and vowed on finding you and making everything right. George felt relieved that he had his own room because Fred’s cries were enough to make anyone feel ill.
Fred slept with the Irish scarf he bought you from the world cup, and he kept the patchwork blanket on his bedroom, refusing to bring it back downstairs.
Memories flashed back to him, the two of you in the tent, “Oh Fred are you sure?” you asked him as he put the scarf around your neck.
He chuckled and kissed your head, “Anything for you, my love!”
Then memories from the sofa flooded in, hurting him even more. 
“I’m so in love with you,” you moaned, cupping his face while he made love to you. 
He shook his head and came to his senses, angry that he put such a lovely girl in the firing line.
“Percy, Y/N works with you doesn’t she? Can you tell her I need to see her.” He later begged.
Percy refused, “That would be an incredibly inappropriate thing to do in the work place!” 
Fred wrote you letters, but you never got them. The family refused to lend him their owl and Fred couldn’t understand muggle post. Getting desperate, he would stay in Diagon Alley trying to see where you were lurking after work, asking strangers if they had seen you, showing them the only picture he had of you.
“It’s going to be perfect here!” Your mum smiled looking around your large half unpacked apartment, “When will he be moving in?” She winked.
You finally saved up enough money to move out and you were planning on asking your boyfriend to move in if things continued to run smoothly. You had got your furniture, all you needed were the items left in the big green box from your bedroom. “I’ll collect them next week.” 
Feeling brave with your partner, arms linked, the two of you visited George’s shop. He had sent you a letter letting you know when Fred wasn’t working and you felt confident that you wouldn’t bump into him.
“I’m so proud of you!” You cheered for George, giving him a hug.
After paying for your bits and bobs you previously saw in the design stages, you walked out of the shop and bumped into someone. Looking up to apologise, you realised it was Fred. He stared at you - both of you mirroring each other looking like a deer caught in the headlights. 
You shook yourself out of the immediate shock Fred was still stuck in. 
“Sorry,” you muttered, walking away, your boyfriend asking what his problem was.
Un-break my heart Say you'll love me again Undo this hurt you caused When you walked out the door And walked out of my life Un-cry these tears I cried so many nights Un-break my heart
Another week went by and Fred was going stir crazy. Customers in his shop who knew you both were whispering about how happy you were now. Him and George argued when he discovered the letter between you two.
Fred rifled through the stacks of letters and found your parents address where you no longer lived. He got on his broom, not caring if muggles saw him, and landed on the roof. He crawled down to your window and gave it a tap with his wand with a soft “Alohomora”.
Expecting to find you asleep, he discovered only disappointment that your room laid bare and empty. The bedside table had nothing but a folded photo lying face down on it, the bin on the floor full of parchment balls.
He unfolded the photo and put a hand over his mouth, seeing you and him moving during your morning walks. He bent down and grabbed a ball from the bin, unravelling the parchment. He cried reading the letters you had written him but never sent. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the green box on your bed and he went through it, more tears spilling down his face.
“I’ll just grab my box!” He heard you yell, walking upstairs. 
Without giving him time to hide, you opened the door, revealing him standing in front of you. You held back a scream of shock and took a deep breath shaking your head, “Fred please - you can’t be here.” 
Fred shook his head and cried, “I’m so sorry, for everything,” he made his way closer to you, “I got everything wrong, her, everything.”
Not wanting your parents to see him, you closed your bedroom door and locked it, your heart pounding. Tears fell from your eyes, the walls you put up against him crashing down, your hate for him melting away and your love for him surging inside.
“Why are you here?” you questioned him through your cries.
Fred walked over to you slowly not wanting to scare you off. This was the closest you had been to him since you bumped into him at the shop. The young man you fell in love with wrapped his arms around you, tangling his hands in your hair. You stayed still with your hands by your side.
“I’m in love with you.” Fred choked out between sobs. He pulled away and gently put your hands in his, your tear filled eyes getting lost in his.
“Fred- I can’t!” you shook your head crying, feeling weak at the words he said and the ones you replied with. 
“Please,” Fred begged getting onto his knees, staring up at you, “please let me make things right.”
Don't leave me in all this pain Don't leave me out in the rain Bring back the nights when I held you beside me
“I think you look stunning,” Fred complimented you, soot spread out all over your nose.
You chuckled and sneaked a kiss on his lips, only to hear a loud thud on the desk in front of you.
“One weeks’ detention for the two of you,” Professor Snape snarled, “and fifty points will be deducted from your house.”
Un-break my heart Say you'll love me again Undo this hurt you caused When you walked out the door And walked out of my life Un-cry these tears I cried so many, many nights Oh, un-break my
“What do you mean you’re taking her instead of me!” you freaked out, throwing your earrings at the mirror. 
“It’s just a bloody Yule Ball. Y/N. It doesn’t mean anything.” Fred argued.
“Well it does to me!” you argued back, “I’m guessing I was just your back up plan if she said no.” 
Un-break my heart, oh baby Come back and say you love me Un-break my heart, sweet darlin' Without you I just can't go on
Fred held you in his arms, the two of you watching the muggle horror movie in amazement. You nuzzled your head into his neck, planting kisses on it softly. Fred let out a soft shaky moan, his hand making its way up your thigh. “We’ll need to be quiet,” he whispered, pulling your underwear off.
Can't go on (Say that you love me, say that you love me) (Tell me you love me, un-break my) (Say that you love me, say that you love me) (Tell me you love me, un-break my)
You stared at Fred, still trying to process what he said. You pursed your lips and stayed quiet getting lost in your thoughts. Fred noticed you were in shock and lost for words. He pulled out the scarf from his coat pocket and walked over to you, wrapping it around you.
You stared up at him, getting lost in those gorgeous eyes that you missed so much. You looked down at his lips and kissed him impulsively.
He kissed back.
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themangolorian · 3 years
Text
nothing, really, dies. nothing dies. nothing dies.
For @kanejweek Day 2: Ambiguity (life & death, cold-blooded)
Pairing: Kaz x Inej
Warnings: Nothing much, discussion about death and some slight physical intimacy
somewhat inspired by this quote
Inej wrapped her arms tightly around her child as the wind whistled over the rooftop of the Slat, only slightly pulling at their thick coats. They watched the barges pass in the distance, for a moment in silence. Then a tug on her sleeve.
“Mama?”
Inej hummed. A question. Her fingers rubbed warmth into the back of her daughter’s tiny hands as they huddled in the chill.
“Why do everybody die?”
Inej suppressed a sigh, her eyes running the length of the distant gondol that carried the dead out of the city to the Reaper’s Barge, the sight of which no doubt had prompted her child’s inquiry.
“Well, Chaaru.” The Suli word for my dear. “There truly is no death, only transformation.”
“More Suli proverbs?” The voice was rough stone.
“Papa!” The child wriggled excitedly out of Inej’s arms and nearly tackled her father where he stood, having just clambered through the office window.
Inej’s heart skipped a beat when Kaz’s good leg briefly lost its footing, but he righted himself with his cane and wrapped one arm around the tiny shoulders of their little girl.
Inej pulled her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees as she watched them.
Kaz slid gracefully into the spot just beside Inej, stretching his legs before him, and letting their child crawl into his lap.
“Go on,” he murmured, his eyes on the barge in the distance.
Inej’s breath caught slightly at the words, and by the twist of Kaz’s lips he knew it.
“My people don’t believe in death the same way...” she paused, considering, “shevrati do.”
At this, their daughter giggled. “You’re shevrali, Papa.”
Kaz made an affronted sound but there was no mistaking his grin; he adored when their daughter was clever, even when, maybe especially when, it was at his expense.
Inej allowed herself a laugh and reached forward to run her fingers through her daughter’s silky coil of hair, so reminiscent of her own. The movement brought her flush with Kaz, and she was pleased when he leaned into her, when he didn’t tense. He hadn’t frozen like that in so long. Inej was glad.
“Our people,” she corrected herself, “know that life can only ever be created, not destroyed. When we leave this life, we are brought back, in the air, the water, the people.”
In the love we show for those who are gone, Inej thought but didn’t say as she watched Kaz watch their daughter. She knew exactly the ways in which their daughter reminded him of his brother lost those years ago, forever a boy; she knew the fear these thoughts fed him.
“No mourners.” Their daughter replied at last in what could only be a mournful tone, as if she understood too well, though Kaz and Inej had so far protected her from life in the same way they had not been allowed to be.
“No funerals.” Kaz and Inej both murmured back, their smiles helpless.
Later, down in the office, their daughter fast asleep in the cot across the room, Inej wandered over to the desk where Kaz was finishing some last minute accounting from the day’s earnings. She stopped short of the desk in her customary way. She’d made a habit of giving him his space, letting him pull her into it.
He scribbled on and she thought she’d retreat back to the cot until he was ready but it was as if he’d been watching her the whole time, waiting for that moment. He let the pen drop and pushed away from the desk.
Wordlessly, she circled the half of the desk separating them and let him collect her in his arms. He hadn’t held her like this for some time, but in the moment it just felt right.
“You never told me I was going to live forever,” he accused.
Inej pulled back slightly to stare up at him as if he was dense.
“What are you going to tell her when her kitten gets snatched up by a hawk?” He asked almost gently.
Inej’s eyebrows hiked their way up her forehead. “You’re getting her a kitten?”
His face smoothed over automatically; Kaz had always had a good face for bluffing.
Inej huffed and buried her face in Kaz’s neck. “I’ll just have to teach the cat how to not get caught,” she said into his jacket, her voice muffled.
Kaz’s responding chuckle was low, some joke known only to him.
“Our lives are eternal, you know,” she murmured near his ear. He shivered, but she knew it wasn’t in aversion to her. “We are what we leave behind. Not just our children, but every act, every blessing, every curse.”
He paused; she could almost hear his brain work, considering.
“Our...children?”
Inej startled, lost. “What?”
“You said,” he started, reaching to take her hand in his and bringing it slowly to his mouth, “children.”
Inej blinked slowly up at him. “All that wisdom and that’s what you took from it.” She snapped, but her cheeks were warm, the implication of his last words still hanging densely in the air.
His lips met the curve of her palm tentatively, and Inej felt the familiar blaze low in the pit of her stomach at the gesture.
“Is that a no?” He spoke into her palm, his breath hot on her skin.
She swallowed heavily, her mouth dry. She opened her lips to respond when- a tiny meow sounded from across the room.
In a split second, Inej went from expectant to exasperated.
“Kaz, you didn’t.”
He avoided her gaze, looking only bored.
She began to slide out of his arms to go find the source of the sound. But he caught her hand at the last second.
“I believe you, you know.”
She found his eyes in surprise. They were dark with hunger. Her body reacted in kind.
“About what?” Her voice was less steady than she would have liked.
“Life after death,” he said simply, his thumb running tantalizingly over her knuckles. The look in his eyes was blazing as he looked at her, something intense set in them. “How could I not believe around you?”
Her voice was nearly short of breath when she spoke.“You’re just trying to butter me up.”
He tilted one eyebrow as he gazed at her as if to say Really? Inej’s cheeks went hot now. The look was true enough; he already had her right where he wanted her.
She stared at him, her mind flashing over the long chain of events that had brought them both to this point. “Alright,” she said finally.
His turn to look surprised, though he quickly masked it. “Alright?”
“Children,” she repeated firmly before untangling herself to go find the kitten.
Dumbstruck, Kaz let her go. She didn’t have to turn to know he was smiling.
103 notes · View notes
cherrycheolcoups · 3 years
Text
a surprising source | a. h
39. Having a bad day and the other noticing
Tumblr media
a/n: hey guys! this is my first official fic on tumblr. i was using the prompt from the post i reblogged from @bucky-plums-barnes. it’s a little short. i hope you guys enjoy!
pairing: aaron hotchner x male!reader
warnings: none; just some fluff and sad hotch
———————————————————-
It had been one of the toughest cases that the team had worked, in Hotch’s opinion. The case lasted a few months, and most of the victim’s weren’t abled to be saved, unfortunately. Realistically, Hotch knew that there were bad cases and good cases. That you couldn’t win them all and save everyone. It still hurt every time, though. He blamed himself for not being able to save those children. It was a habit of his, not even realizing he had been doing it.
When Hotch was like this, the team knew better than to bother him, or so he thought. A water bottle was standing in front of him that wasn’t there before. Who had snuck in and managed to put it on his desk without his noticing? Someone on the team actually cared enough to leave him a bottle of water? Yes, deep down he knew they all cared for him in their own way. But when he was in these moods, it was very easy for his brain to convince him that the BAU would be better off without the Unit Chief who couldn’t save people.
Sighing, Hotch finally decided to drink some of the water. After taking a sip, he set the bottle back down and went back to burying his nose in the report he was supposed to be writing again. Strauss had been breathing down his neck lately so he really needed this to be done, but all his thoughts kept going back to the children they were too late to save. Aaron rubbed his face before holding his head in his hands. He didn’t even bother looking up when he heard his office door opening, and the sound of a plate being set on his desk.
This made Hotch look up. And when he did, he saw (Y/N). So he must’ve been behind the water. “You didn’t have to,” Hotch whispered, not trusting his voice to stay calm at the time being. The younger male just gave Aaron a lopsided grin, coupled with a sheepish shrug. “I know. But I wanted to. You can’t just keep running yourself ragged like this. When was the last time you ate, huh? The report can wait for a bit.”
Hotch shook his head, just wanting to be done with it. “No, no. I have to finish it, (Y/N). I have to,” the Unit Chief responded, furrowing his eyebrows, grabbing his pen. (Y/N) sighed and grabbed the pen out of Hotch’s hand, setting it back down. “I understand that, but your health is important, Hotch. Come on, let’s sit on the couch for a bit,” he said, grasping Aaron’s hand and guiding him over to the couch, the plate in the male’s other hand. Reluctantly, Hotch followed and begrudgingly ate the food that was on the plate for him. It was just a simple sandwich, but it showed Hotch that someone cared.
When Aaron finished his sandwich, he was maneuvered to where he was laying his head down on (Y/N)’s lap, the younger male’s fingers carding through his hair. He wouldn’t admit it, but this was something he didn’t know he needed, but was thankful someone cared to do this for him, to make sure he was okay. Hotch laid there with his eyes closed, relishing in the caring touch of (Y/N). “You did everything you could’ve, Aaron. Please don’t put all the blame on yourself,” Hotch heard the male say to him. He simply huffed and nuzzled further in (Y/N)’s lap.
(Y/N) was a surprising source for comfort, though Hotch was thankful regardless. And just like that, Hotch realized and remembered how great it felt to let someone else take the comforting role every once in a while. It was exhausting being the leader who everyone looked to for everything all the time. Case after case, he had to be strong for them. He loved his team. They couldn’t see him weak, ever.
What went from a terrible few months, quickly changed to a rather blissful day with just someone offering him a shoulder. A part of him worried about someone barging in and seeing them, but the other half of him was too far gone to care. And that side had won. Hotch ended up falling asleep as his hair was played with.
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little-diable · 4 years
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Kinktober Day 12 - Tom Hiddleston
Feedback is very welcomed, my asks are always open. Enjoy my loves. xxx
He’s a uni prof, so before you come at me, the reader is of age, of course she is. (Probably one of my favorite imagines) 
2k+ words, sorry, my imagination got the best of me and my dreams 
Day 12 - Professor 
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His voice made goosebumps appear on her skin, she was hanging onto his every word, eyes not leaving Professor Hiddlestons frame once, (y/n) was completely done for him. She had been visiting his class for a few weeks by now, but from the first moment she had laid her eyes upon him, (y/n)’s heart would skip a few beats, sweaty palms pressed against her jeans, losing all her focus. 
The dark blue suit he was wearing perfectly clung to his frame, bright eyes wandering through the body of students, trying to explain his subject as precise as possible. A smile was tugging on his lips, totally pulled into his monologue, hoping that the students were at least half as thrilled about it as he was. 
As much as he tried to avoid it, he’d always find her in the middle of the crowd, eyes hooked on his, eagerly writing down his words, not missing one single breath. Tom didn’t even know her name, it wouldn’t take long for him to dig a bit deeper and find some information about her, but he wouldn’t let himself do it, he couldn’t, she was his student after all. 
(Y/n) would try to find any way to approach him, late at night she’d think of any questions she could ask, things she could discuss with him, but as soon as his name would pop up in her mind she’d loose her train of thoughts. The sight of his locks, slightly gelled backwards, was burned into her mind, oh, the things she’d do, to only comb her fingers through his hair once, just once. 
“Any questions?”, he closed the script in his hands, eyes wandering across the printed letters, ‘William Shakespeare‘. “Alright then, have a good week”, Tom smiled at the crowd, placing the pages down, watching the students hastily run out of the class, desperate for a small break. But she was still there, packing her bag with trembling fingers, eyebrows knitted together, “can I help you?”, his voice made her freeze. 
She slowly averted her eyes off her bag, finding his curious ones, “I’m sorry, I just can’t stop thinking about your theory, that somebody else wrote Shakespeares plays”, (y/n) cleared her throat, hating her voice for sounding that shaky. Tom couldn’t deny it, he loved to hear her voice, the bright sound made his limbs tingle. 
“I can understand, that it may sound off to you. But, there are many proves to it, there’re some pages I could recommend about this subject. If you want to, I could email them to you”, the words spilled out of his lips before he could stop himself. He shouldn’t contact her, shouldn’t even try to pull her into any form of conversation, outside of his classroom, but it was too alluring, too thrilling not to. 
Her cheeks were slightly flushed, (y/n) picked her bag up and walked down the stairs, towards his desk, “that would be amazing”, her fingers fumbled around with the sleeves of her sweater. Tom grasped a blank paper and a pen, “here, write down your email address for me, will you?”, he smiled at her, eyes following her every move, adoring her blushing state. 
It didn’t take the professor long to email her, (y/n) could barely bite down her smile as she read his words over and over again, “I’m looking forward to hear your opinion about this”. She had gone through those theses faster than lightning, desperate to email him back, to type out those words and hopefully impress him. 
Those little encounters didn’t seem to stop, she’d wait for him after class, discussing new thoughts and opinions, falling into an easy smalltalk with him. “Are you done for today?”, Tom strapped his bag, walking towards the door, “yes I am”, (y/n) smiled at him, looking forward to spend the rest of her day wrapped up in some blankets, watching her favorite movie. 
“There’s a new exhibition about Shakespeare, do you want to go see it with me?”, he gulped, already trying to come up with any words he could say, if she’d kindly negate, smiling at him with those gorgeous lips he found himself dreaming of. “I’d love that”, her heart was racing, not progressing the fact, that he had asked her to spend some time with him, oh god, she wasn’t prepared for something like this. 
She followed him down to his car, whispering a small “thank you” as he opened the door for her, admiring her from the corner of his eyes as he was driving towards the museum. Both couldn’t stop smiling as they walked through the exhibition, looking like a normal couple to those curious eyes, not one of them would ever guess, that she was his student. 
Tom was right behind her, front almost touching her back, (y/n) was reading the description of the painting out loud, not noticing how close he was standing. He couldn’t concentrate on her words, eyes wandering down her neck, oh, how he’d love to press a kiss to her skin, inhaling her sweet scent. “Mister Hiddleston?”, she giggled, ripping him out of his thoughts, “it’s Tom, please”, he shook his head, walking towards the next picture. 
Somewhere along the way (y/n) had laughed at one of his jokes, grasping his forearm as she was nearly tripping over from laughing that hard, he soon followed, chuckles rumbling through him as he stabilized her. With a newfound bravery (y/n) had interlaced her fingers with his, expecting him to let go of her, telling her off, but he simply smiled at her, squeezing her hand. 
“It’s so cliché”, (y/n) giggled, they were driving towards her apartment, making fun of Shakespeares ‘Romeo and Juliet’, “don’t lie to me, we both know, that you know the words by heart”, Tom pinched her knee, coaxing another squeal out of her. A somber feeling overcame her as he pulled into her street, time had gone by way too fast, she didn’t want to say goodbye just yet. 
Silence engulfed them as he parked his car, “uhm”, she breathed out, “thank you for today”, (y/n)s smile had an addicting affect to it, Tom leaned closer, fingers brushing over her cheek, “’m glad you said yes”, he chuckled, bright eyes piercing through her. Just as (y/n) was about to press a kiss to his cheek, Tom had slightly turned his head, lips meeting hers before one of them could even process what was happening. 
There was no awkward tension between them, no weird movements or sounds, both seemed to fall into place, lips perfectly moving in synch, relishing in finally living out their deepest desires. “I have more care to stay than will to go”, (y/n) mumbled against his lips, reciting Juliets words, his deep laugh made her giggle. “Do you want to come upstairs?”, she bit down on her lip, (y/e/c) eyes drowning in his, no words left him as Tom turned off the car, stepping out of it. 
His lips were on hers before she had even closed the door behind her, back pressed against the hard material, hands finally combing through those locks, admiring how soft his hair felt underneath her touch. Tom tried to stop himself, didn’t want to rush things, wanted to do this properly, but she clouded his senses, brought a blockade to his thoughts, his hands were wandering down to her behind, pulling her even closer. 
She was heavily breathing, pulling him down the hallway to her bedroom, fumbling around with his vest, desperate to lay her eyes onto his skin. “I got you”, Tom whispered, picking her up from the floor, legs wrapped around his middle, core pressed against the forming bulge in his trousers. He sat down on her bed, (y/n) was straddling his lap, “you’re so perfect”, Tom expertly unbuttoned her blouse, sucking on her collarbones. 
His hot breath made goosebumps rise on her skin, she felt her walls clenching around nothing, her clit was throbbing, mind wandering to those nights she had dreamt about being wrapped around him. (Y/n) couldn’t stop herself from grinding against him, his deep groan almost made her cum, the sound was by far more perfect than she had ever imagined. 
“Professor”, she panted, helping him out of his shirt, eyes dancing across his muscular abdomen, his eyes snapped towards her, smirking at the way she called him. 
Tom flipped them around, he was hovering above her, set on pleasuring her, he wanted to hear every moan, wanted to explore every inch of her, not stopping till he had seen the last of her. “Do you feel this?”, Tom pressed his bulge firmly against her core, coaxing a moan out of her swollen lips, “this is what you do to me”, he bit into her earlobe. Her needy whine echoed through the room, “I need you” (y/n) brushed her centre against his. 
“What a needy little girl you are for your professor”, he unzipped her skirt, pulling it down her thighs, giving himself enough room to touch the damp fabric of her panties. “Shit”, (y/n)s head fell back onto her pillow, nobody had ever touched her like this, she slightly jumped, his fingertips felt cold against her skin, thumb circling her clit, “can I?”, his eyes burned into hers, waiting for her approval, he desperately wanted to taste her. 
(Y/n) nodded her head “yes”, too far gone to properly answer his question, she arched her back, his tongue slipped through her folds, she had her fingers buried into his hair, “professor” (y/n) breathed out once again. He growled at the name, obsessed with the sound, he’d never be able to control his urges around her ever again, especially not when she’d call him ‘professor’. “I want you”, (y/n) tugged on his roots, drawing him away from her centre, Tom tugged his trousers down, boxers following right after. 
His impressive length made her gulp, “I’m on the pill”, she whispered as he reached for a condom, she wanted to feel all of him, nothing between them. Toms bright eyes wandered over her features for a moment, he pressed his lips against hers, tongues battling a war as he thrusted into her wetness, groaning as he felt her tightness. 
Toms heart was racing, almost just as fast as (y/n)s, he perfectly filled her, resting in between her hot walls, veins throbbing against her skin, nestling into her heat. He began to build a steady rhythm, Tom wanted it to last, he didn’t want to push both over the edge with a few, simple thrusts, not after admiring her for so long. 
“Please, faster, professor”, she added a change to his plans, as much as she wanted to appreciate every little detail about the encounter, she needed more, (y/n) was aching for him, she had dreamt about this moment for too long. “Oh god”, her jaw fell slack, his tip had gazed her g-spot, walls tightening even further, the sensation made him squeeze his eyes shut, “(y/n)”, he panted her name, catching her lips in a fierce kiss. 
The kiss swallowed most of their sounds, his hips fell against hers, with every thrust he seemed to bury himself deeper into her walls, exploring every possible inch of her gorgeous body. “I-”, (y/n) stuttered, nails piercing through his skin, “I can’t”, she sobbed, tumbling over the edge, the knot in belly exploded, the sensation overtook her body, limbs trembling, sweat pooled on her skin, moans getting mixed up with his groans. 
Tom kept watching her, bright eyes adoring the sight of her falling apart around him, walls swallowing his length, pulling him into her further, it didn’t take him long to fall right down into her embrace. He groaned into her neck, pace faltering, his release spilled out of him, right into her heat. “Shit”, Tom chuckled, taking a few breaths before he carefully pulled out of her. 
The darkness of her bedroom engulfed them, covering up their flushed cheeks, the drops of sweat, that were glistering on their bodies. The only source of light came from the lanterns on her street, throwing an orange shadow onto her wall. No words left any of them, both were processing the previous moments, not quite sure, if they’d wake from this dream any moment now. 
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