#not a scan i just took the picture lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelnthsnow · 7 months

Text

The Party & The After Party

pairing: toto wolff x f!driver!reader

summary: after winning your first formula one race in your first year in the category, you don't think the day can get any better. fortunately, your boss has other plans for the night.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: age gap? it's never mentioned but it's there obvi, boss x employee, use of y/n, cursing.

author's note: i must say my friends have gotten me into formula one, but it's kinda hard paying attention to the cars when this man exists. i wrote this nonstop in the middle of the night, it's shorter than usual but i couldn't get the idea out of my head, so enjoy! i promise i'll post smth nfl related soon lol k bye!!

In your first year as the first female F1 driver, you had done the impossible. Standing on the 1st place of the Monaco Grand Prix podium, adrenaline pumping through your veins, you looked down at everyone who had ever doubted you. Years of resisting attacks, sexist remarks and the constant need to prove yourself, you felt like you could finally breathe. By your side, stood two of the greatest drivers the sport had ever seen, Lewis Hamilton, your teammate, in P2, and Max Verstappen, in P3.

Your eyes wandered through the vast crowd that chanted your name from below, searching for the man who had made it all possible, your boss, Torger Wolff, the first person who took you seriously. Being a woman with hopes of getting into Formula One was exhaustingly hard, but everything started to change when you won the F3 Championship, a few years ago.

Paul, your teammate at the time, had told you that a certain team principal would come to the race that day, and although you kept telling yourself to not get your hopes up, every single attempt to do so went downhill when you saw the Mercedes team principal walking through the paddock like he owned the place.

To you, Mercedes was everything. Besides being one of the most modern teams, you also realized soon enough that Toto was probably the most open-minded out of all the other TPs on the grid. It was sad, of course, having such a little percentage of people who would be happy to see a woman in a position that was so dominated by men, but still, it lit up a flame in your chest, a string of hope you clung onto whenever you felt like giving up your dream.

That day, with him on the bleachers as you drove fearlessly around Spa-Francorchamps, you won the F3 championship, putting you on a watchlist of drivers that could get into F2.

Ever since that day, the austrian had kept an eye on you.

He saw how fiercely you fought to have a place, to have a voice and to be heard in a space ever so dominated by the opposite sex, and it didn't scare him, not one bit, he admired it. When you stood on that podium earlier, he didn't even bother hiding a smile, taking pictures and videos and chanting your name with the rest of the team as Lewis and Max sprayed the ridiculously expensive champagne on your back as you laughed.

That's why today, hours after winning your first ever F1 race on your first year in the category, he still couldn't get off the high he was on. He had finally gotten the confirmation he so desperately needed, not because he didn't believe you could do it, but because he was eager to prove everyone else wrong, to rip the smugness out of every single man who told you you didn't belong there.

At least that's what he had told you earlier through the radio before the lights went out, prove them wrong. He just didn't know you fought to reprimand a sob as you tried to concentrate in the lights that stood just above the Albert 1st Boulevard.

Now, Toto's eyes scanned every single corner of Jimmy'z searching for you, only to find you on the dance floor, pornstar martini in hand as you swayed to the beats of Empire of The Sun's We Are The People.

You had a smile on your face that could lit up a whole room, and he couldn't be prouder. Soon enough, your eyes met his and you chuckled, making a peace sign to point at your eyes and then at his as the line got lost in your eyes blasted through the club's speakers.

Even at distance, you could see him rolling his eyes and chuckling at your playful gesture, but still, he came closer, until the only thing in his field of vision was the visibly drunk version of you.

"You look happy." he leans down and forward to yell in your ear, making himself heard even if though the loud music made it hard to.

You squirm at the proximity, but brush it off by taking another sip of your drink. "I'm on top of the world, Toto. I don't think I've ever been happier." You yell back and he resists the urge to fight back a smile, presenting you with his pearly whites.

As one of the neon lights hit your face, he's forced to take in all of you. The version of you you'd put up whenever he'd tell you he had an important meeting he needed you to attend, or whenever you were needed to put up a show, like today.

You wore a black strapless dress, the one you'd seen a few weeks prior to the Grand Prix at Elie Saab's display window while you were on your daily night walk through Monaco. It was mesmerizing, with a shimmery type of fabric that would definitely make sparks fly if a bright light shined over it. You had thought of buying it, for days, really, but decided against it because party dresses were never a much needed piece of clothing in your wardrobe. Well, that until you told Lewis about the dress, and when you arrived at your apartment a few hours after the race, there it was, on a hanger hanging on the curtain rods.

As much as your looks prevented Toto from thinking about anything else, he couldn't help but notice how huge your pupils were, so big that it felt like your iris' were long gone. That and the fact that your sclera had shifted from white to a more reddish color.

He shifted on his feet, unaware of how to proceed. Were you.. high? Was that even a thing between sportspersons? Deciding on it being a matter that shouldn't be handled in front of the city's most congested place as of today, he mutters a "come with me" in your ear, putting a hand on your lower back as he guided you away from the crowd.

When he finally stops, you find yourself in a more private, smaller room with a few sofas and armchairs. He then proceeds to ask you "You've taken something. What is it?"

You laugh at his sudden concern. The answer was clearly a big red yes written in all caps, but part of you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed at yourself. You had done it, yes, but now you felt sort of guilty, because the last thing you wanted was to damage his or the team's image. You shake your head, trying to to keep those thoughts away. It was just a party, a party for you, with only selected people being allowed in, it wasn't like you'd wake up to your name on the news.

"Come ooon.. don't be such a party pooper!" You slurred.

Toto was shocked by your reaction, part of him wanted you to celebrate as you wished, after all, you had just fulfilled a dream, but the other part, the responsible boss part craved an explanation, he didn't want you to cause any harm to your already fragile media image.

"Are you serious? You're the star of the entire team today! We have thrown a party just for you and you're getting off on drugs?" He says, lowering his voice on the last word as he crosses his arm.

"It's just a blunt, Toto. I swear I'm fine." Your laugh echoes throughout the small room as you grab his big arms, uncrossing them. "Don't get so serious on me." You look up at him through your lashes.

Toto gives you a stern look before a smirk creeps up on his face. The anger and seriousness fades away in an instant as he realizes the situation wasn't that serious. He sighs and looks at you with a sly, yet curious look. "How many? One, right?"

"Just one, sir." You say mischievously, holding your pinky finger up before kissing it to symbolize a promise.

Toto is taken aback as you kiss your pinky finger in a sarcastic manner, although he doesn't say anything. He looks at you with the same sly look as before. "I see... and have you done this before?"

"Who hasn't, duh?" You furrow your brows, flashing him a backward smile.

'He hasn't, of course. That's Torger Wolff we're talking about' you think to yourself as you look up at him. The soreness of your muscles and the pain of being on your feet for so long getting to you.

Sometimes it was kind of annoying having a conversation with your boss due to the fact that you had to look up the entire time, and countless were the times you found yourself with neck pain after hours of chatting. This conversation would surely be added to that imaginary countless list of yours, because even today, with high heels that could make you look six feet tall, he still looked way too big.

Toto chuckles before getting a playful look on his face. "Oh, really? I highly doubt the star of my F1 team has ever smoked a blunt before, although you do seem very knowledgeable about this." He moves closer to you, looking down at you as he speaks, his voice low and husky. You wondered if his neck ever went through the same problem yours did when you two talked, causing you to chuckle.

"I do?" You lift one eyebrow, narrowing your eyes. "Well, I must say.. the star of your precious F1 Team has done a lot, Mr. Wolff." It comes off more flirtatious than you intended, but you pay no mind to it. You try to take a step back, but end up slipping on the hem of your gown, the high getting to you later than ever.

Toto immediately rushes to you and catches you mid-air, wrapping his arms around your torso.

"Is that so?" Toto says, his voice now raspy and face close to yours.

You exhale deeply, relief from not having made an absolute mess out of yourself filling your body. If you had fallen, your dress would probably be completely torn apart and headlines would have a field trip with it.

He is still holding you, his hands burning on your back.

"Yeah.." You close your eyes, getting away from Toto's embrace as you regain balance and straighten yourself.

Toto steps back as you do so, although he does want to reach out to hold you again. Instead, he settles for engaging on more double entendre conversations with you.

His eyes are full of admiration, your body is more visible in this dress than it has ever been, and he makes a mental note to thank Lewis for the gift. He recalls the moment you two shared a few minutes ago, the way you swayed and jumped with the music like you were the only person in that dance floor would never fail to amaze him.

"You truly do look like a notorious celebrity in this dress, don't you?" He finally says, a hint of shyness in his tone, although the look in his face is stern.

"You could thank your other driver for that." You joke, trying to hide the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach.

"I certainly will." he smiles, his gaze softening as his eyes meet yours. They're still red, but it starts to grow on him.

Looking at you like this, completely wasted, happy and carefree, he couldn't help but remember the afternoon you two had met, when he started to be so sure you'd be by his and Lewis' side on a race weekend one day.

Now, there you were, in front of him, with a trophy standing somewhere back in your apartment. "I'm so proud of you." he finally says, not because he thinks you should hear it, but because it's all he wants to say to you after today's events.

You look away from him shyly. You had heard it before, specially from him, but every single time felt like fireworks in your belly. Him being proud of you was capable of putting you on a whole another level, it was just another signal that you had made it, that you had proved you were capable, even to those who were always so sure you definitely were.

You try to hide a smile as you mutter a simple thank you, because in this state, visibly high and drunk, staring at the man who had made it all possible, it's all you manage to say.

He smiles back at you, and your mind almost short circuits when he steps closer, not stopping even when you can feel his breath close to your face. That's when you realize he's about to hug you, and you just let him.

It's genuine, simple yet abnormally meaningful. His big hands rest crossed on your lower back as he pulls you closer, making your cheeks rest on his suit covered chest. You almost feel like crying, because how could you not? You had it all now, a place in the sport you so desperately craved to have since you were a kid, a win, an amazing teammate and an even more amazing boss, who believed in you through your entire career.

"You've done it." He says quietly as if you're a wild animal that would run away at any abrupt movement or sound. "I can't even imagine how you feel."

On cloud nine, that was the most appropriate answer.

"It's like nothing I've ever felt." you say, arms hugging his chest. "Thank you for always believing in me, you have no idea how much you've done for me." you sniff, clearly on the verge of tears.

"It's nothing compared to what you deserve. You're one of the greats, Y/N. The whole world's gonna know you name." he says, causing the tears you so eagerly fought to keep off to fall rapidly on your cheeks. You sniff, opening your eyes to see that a small wet circle had formed on Toto's shirt.

"Shit, sorry." You laugh awkwardly as you take a step back, desperately trying to dry your tears with your fingers before they ruined your makeup too.

"Hey, it's fine." He steps closer again, bringing his thumb to your face as he continues your job of drying the tears you had shed. Once he's done, his hands linger there for a bit longer than they needed to, stroking your cheeks. You thank the Gods for whatever the hell he was on today. "You do look pretty when you cry, though I must say I prefer the way you look on top of a podium, with champagne drenched hair and a first place trophy in hand."

You roll your eyes, as if it was possible to fall even more in love with him. It had become stupid at this point, really. Clearly the two of you had something special, to say the least, going on, but none of you were courageous enough to come clean about this.

"You aren't a bad view from up there as well." You shoot back, earning a smile in return.

The shameless and obvious flirtation to whoever watched from outside continued for a few minutes, until Toto insisted that you should go back to your party, and although at this point you had decided to give up the celebrations to look at him for the rest of night, there he was, once again with his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd back to where he initially had seen you. Doesn't take long for you to get lost in the music, dancing like there was no tomorrow. Toto had excused himself to greet other team members and sponsors, fulfilling the ultimate boss role even at parties, and stealing glances from you every now and then while talking to someone.

A few drinks later, the club was getting more empty by the minute, the clock almost hitting 4:30 a.m. Your makeup was already lightly smudged, your black Louboutins long gone in the corner you once laughed with your friends. As you thanked the remaining people for coming, Toto showed up again, startling you as he came from behind, putting his right hand in your shoulder.

"Seems like the party has reached an end." he says, making you look up at him. His face was fairly red, and by the way he slurred his words, you could tell he was somewhat drunk. His hair was messier than earlier and the tie that was once a fancy bow was now untied, resting around his neck, a nice combination to his slightly unbuttoned shirt.

"Unfortunately. I hope you had fun, though." you reply, turning your attention to shake some of your guests' hands.

"It's always fun with you around." He says as he smiles to the same people shaking your hands.

You crookedly smile, turning around to walk to your table. As you do so, he follows.

"Do you need a ride? I saw you coming in with Bradley, but he already left," He watches you as you walk through the empty club, employees cleaning the floor of what was once the party of a lifetime. "guess parties aren't really his thing." He chuckles.

"I don't wanna make you take me home now, it's late and you're probably very tired."

"Oh, please, it's Monaco. Not like I'm going to be driving for hours." He replies, earning you a laugh. You and Toto lived pretty close to each other, but you'd drive past his building before getting to yours, so you truly didn't want him to make a huge detour just because of you.

"Fine," you smile, grabbing your sparkly clutch. "just please tell me you came with your 300sl roadster." You say and he chortles, rolling his eyes.

The Mercedes 300SL Roadster owned by Toto was probably one of your favorite cars in his collection. Hell, in anyone's collection. It's such an incredibly classy vehicle you couldn't resist its charm.

"I did." He says, and you let out a slightly loud yes! as he grabs your scarpins, laughing at your reaction. The way the smallest things were capable of making you happy always made him smile. Even after closing a multi-millionaire deal with your team, some things would never fail to make you excited, such as being driven home in a car you've always wanted.

The both of you start to walk towards Jimmy'z's exit in a different sort of haze, like the two of you were in your own little world together, laughing and exchanging inside jokes. The dry warm Monaco summer air hits you as soon as you step out, and soon the vallet comes driving Toto's car, opening the door for you to get in.

As the both of you get in, he starts driving, the sound of the car's engine echoing throughout Princesse Grace Avenue. Duke Dumont's Ocean Drive in the radio as your hair flies due to the speed in which Toto's driving. Now and then, he casually glances at you, smiling at the way you still manage to dance even when sitting on the passenger's seat.

Despite being a race weekend, the city seemed awfully quiet and empty at this time. Soon enough, he takes a turn and you're finally in Larvotto, which meant in a few seconds he'd be pulling up at your home. However, before he had the chance to, you saw the sun rising in distance, its warm light gleaming in the sea water.

"Toto, look!" you point to the horizon, and he slows the car down to follow your gaze. "It's so beautiful.."

"Indeed it is.." he says, and you can tell by his tone he's got a change of plans coming. When you realize, he's parking the car in the shore, exiting the vehicle to open the door for you. "Come on, let me give you a real after party."

You smile, because there was no way the day could get any better. You were sure you'd wake up later convincing yourself this had been a dream. Taking your hand, he pulls you out of the car, and after you close the door, he runs towards the sea, fingers intertwined with yours.

In this moment, you force yourself to forget about all of the implications and concerns that could come at you. In this moment, it was just you and Toto, not a Mercedes driver and the Mercedes' Team Principal. To anyone else who'd catch a glimpse of the scene, the both of you looked like stupid, reckless teenagers in love.

Sitting on the sand, you try to catch your breath, stomach hurting due to you not being able to stop laughing. You lay your head on his broad shoulders, hands holding his arm.

Suddenly, he feels the need to confess, "I'm always so happy when I'm around you" with the german accent getting heavier as it always did when he was drunk.

You smile, "Me too."

A beat, and then, "You're the most amazing woman I've ever known."

It comes lower than he intends to, but he's also never felt so nervous around someone as he does now. You thank the heavens for the fact that he's not looking at you, you look like a kid stupidly in love.

"You don't need to say that," you sigh. "you've already told me you're proud of me for today."

"I know. I'm not saying it because I feel the need for it to be said, but because I truly think that." he replies. "Ever since that day in Spa, you've proven to be an extremely fierce, fearless, wonderful driver and an even more amazing woman." You roll your eyes at his compliments. "I mean it, Y/N." He grabs your attention just by saying your name, making it all even more real. "Mercedes is extremely lucky to have you, and so am I." he looks at you, his face closer than ever as yours rest on his shoulder.

"You have me?" You say, looking at him through your lashes.

"I like to think I do. Do I?"

"Utterly." You giggle, your eyes glowing just by looking at him.

His hands go to cup your face, and the last thing you'd expect from him happens. At first, his lips brush over yours lightly, as if he's asking for permission, testing the waters to see if he's allowed to go further. When you don't protest, he deepens the kiss, sweeping you off your feet.

The both of you laugh, and you hide your now completely red face in his chest. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this." you say, feeling his body hairs stand on end.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to do this." he says, and you shed a tear on his partially shirt covered chest. "Are you crying?" He asks, and when he hears you sniff, he takes it as a yes. "Hey, don't cry. Look." he lifts your chin up, making you stare at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes.

The sunrise looked like a piece of art, with pinkish and yellow tones coloring the sky. Toto puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. You could now add having him at your list as well.

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x y/n #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #fanfic #alternative universe

445 notes · View notes

mothwingwritings · 5 months

Note

Can we have Ren/Fox (TPOF) and Mc with a child?Long after Fox decided to stay with MC, they both had a daughter (probably not something with consent and a bit of Stockholm syndrome).The daughter asks her mother how she got the scars and this makes MC have memories of post-traumatic stress.

I was so tickled by this ask that I started manically typing out a response for it nearly as soon as I saw it in my ask box (which at this point, was quite some time ago. Forgive me, I am a mess lul). I wrote the whole damn thing in a fit of passion, excited to release it into the world… But ultimately hated it and thought it was garbo, so I scrapped it and tried again. Wrote a second iteration and thought ‘hell yeah, this is it!!! Sick!’, but then I read it AND HATED THAT ONE TOO AAAHHH!!!

I rewrote this… so much…

But I never give up on my dreams, and you shouldn’t either! Persevere! Don’t give up on yourself! Here’s your daily motivation for the day! Keep writing even it makes you cry!!! :D

Anyway, so I wrote this third one, comprised of new stuff and the stuff I actually did like from the first two stabs, and it ended up being the one. Truly it is a Frankenstein of a fic lol. Regardless of all the reworking, I had a lot of fun writing this and enjoyed the prompt very much!!! I I hope you enjoy reading it just as much. :)

I’m sorry if the writing seems a tad too mature for the reader’s daughter in this, writing children isn’t my forte. ^^;

Due to the nature of this fic, IT IS 18+ ONLY!!! Thank you!

WARNINGS: Incessant mentions of abuse of all kinds for reader and mentions of physical abuse for her child!!! Reader is heavily scarred from said abuse and that’s a main theme in this fic so please avoid if that is upsetting to you. Also, though not the main focus, there are multiple mentions of child abuse in this fic, as well a part where reader goes off verbally on her child, so please be mindful of that as well! Other things of note: reader is a parent in this (which you can probably tell by the prev warning lol), reader getting hurt, blood, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, being held against your will/isolation, mentions of noncon, sad family stuff :(

Diminishing rays of afternoon light splayed through the open window of your quaint living room, casting a comforting orange glow over everything they touched. The light gave the environment an ethereal and nostalgic feel, wrapping you in peaceful warmth as the sun sunk lower and lower. The loveseat you occupied was plush and inviting, and a mug of your favorite tea stood at the ready on the small coffee table beside you, steadily cooling with help from the last hurrah of winter blowing in gently from the outside. Besides the slight chill, the wind brought with it the heavy scent of freshly bloomed flowers, a delightful precursor to the oncoming spring.

Relishing the rare moment of serenity, you couldn’t help but wish that all your days could be this lovely.

You smiled down at your daughter who sat perched in your lap, happily flipping through the newest gift she had acquired from her Father- a thick picture book full of bright illustrations highlighting various exotic animals. As it lay sprawled across her tiny lap, her chubby finger pointed out each animal she took an interest in, her high pitched voice chirping away as she explained what she liked about the creatures. She got particularly excited when she spotted the page full of foxes, jabbing at the red one feverishly as she exclaimed “its daddy!”

Spotting the foxes began her down a path of assigning an animal to not just herself, but you as well. She didn’t find it fair that only her father had kin in the animal world, even though you pointed out that she technically did as well by sharing half the man’s blood. Your revelation did little to deter her, she wanted something new, something just for herself, and she wasn’t going to stop until she found her perfect soul animal. So she continued on, scanning each page in earnest until she found a creature that suited her.

She ended up picking a bunny for herself, supplying you with a comprehensive reason as to why she chose it. As she explained in great length, skimping no details, you couldn’t help but hold back laughter. She spoke as if she were a professor teaching a class, and you did your best to keep a straight face as she yammered on with her shoddy reasoning, deep down knowing she only picked a rabbit because of how cute they are.

After she was done waxing poetic about bunnies, she continued scouring the book, coming to a halt once she reached the wild cat section. She stopped with a gasp, beaming up at you as she pressed her finger firmly against one of the images on the page.

“Mommy this one is you!”

Your eyes traveled to the picture she was rapidly tapping, “An African Wildcat, huh?” You smirked down at the little girl in amusement, “Why did you pick that one for me?”

“Because it looks just like you!”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm, “It looks like me? How so?”

“It has marks just like you do!”

Her innocuous words sent a chill up your spine. Eying the stripes that crossed the cat’s legs, you felt a great unease begin to overtake your body. Her reasoning was not lost on you, the cats coat did quite resemble the jagged scars that covered nearly every inch of your body, and just like the feline in her book, your limbs were the most prominent location of said ‘markings’. You quickly shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it further. In hopes of moving on from the subject, the outpouring of words that flew from your mouth were jumbled and messy.

“O-oh, I see,” you stuttered, clearing your throat to steady your voice, “well you certainly picked a cute animal for me! Thank you baby, it was a good choice.”

She smiled at you innocently, a gesture that usually made your heart melt with affection. But as her tiny hands moved from the book to your arms, that smile did nothing but fill you with dread, the realization that you wouldn’t be getting out of this sticky situation hitting you like a brick to the face.

“Yeah mommy, the kitty’s marks are just like these ones,” her stubby fingers gently traced the old wounds, a look of reverence reflected on her cherubic features. “They make you look like that kitty mommy,” her little voice cooed, “I like them a lot!”

Your muscles constricted at her words, a slight tremor coursing through you as you involuntarily tightened your grip on her. She took note of this, looking up at your strained features with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Don’t be sad mommy,” she spoke assuredly, “I really do like them! I think they are pretty!”

Her words burned you, scorching the inside of your frozen shell of a body, leaving you feeling sickly and discombobulated. The room around you started to spin in a hazy blur, a wave of nausea making you nearly wretch. Your breathing grew erratic as you tried to calm yourself, inwardly repeating that your daughter was just a child, a little girl barely four years of age who had an incredibly limited view of the world. Her words were not meant to upset you. Her opinions were coming from a place of total naivety.

Yet still, the mental assurance did little to help with the extremely uncomfortable position you now founds yourself in. It wasn’t as if this was her first time noticing your scars. She had mentioned them before, her curious mind trying to piece together the reason that her arms appeared different from your own. Each time she brought your old wounds up you couldn’t help but feel flustered, responding with weak explanations and misdirection to try and quickly brush off her questioning.

The marks came from a silly mistake, or a childhood accident, or from a careless moment when mommy should have been paying more attention. It was always excuses on repeat. How many lies had you told her on this topic alone?

But even if they were lies, it beat telling her the truth. You didn’t want to have to explain where the scars on your body actually came from to anyone, let alone a child, and especially not to your own daughter. How could you possibly word it gently, or in a way that she would understand, when you barely understood why you had them yourself? How could you look her in the eye and tell her that these markings were a permanent sign that you had been very, very hurt and that it was her own fathers hands that inflicted the pain?

Reliving the horrific moments that left your body in such a state was overwhelming enough on its own, but to also have to lay bare her father’s sins, relay to her the unsavory proclivities of a man who she idolized and adored, was not something you were keen on doing.

She didn’t know her daddy like you knew him. She was ignorant to the constant state of concern you lived in, unaware of the worries that plagued your mind and kept you up each night. All the troubles of the hell she had been born into were completely lost on the small, carefree girl.

But honestly that was for the best. You had made an unspoken promise the moment she entered your life that you would protect her no matter what. From the day of her birth onward it became your mission to keep her as happy and healthy as possible.

Ren had broken you, but she did not have to suffer the same fate.

At this point in her life, your daughter knew nothing of her daddy’s profession or ‘hobbies’, and you wanted it to remain that way for as long as possible, if not for the rest of her life. You dreaded each time Ren came home from an auction, terrified he may let casually slip too many details about his ‘lively client’ or that he would carelessly step through the door with the stains of his liaisons still littering his clothes. Your daughter was at an age where she was brimming with questions, and she was relentless in getting answers to each question she asked. Everything had to be explained in complete detail for her to be satisfied, drop the subject, and move on. She was a smart little thing, possibly too smart for her own good. You highly doubted a silly joke or wave of the hand would assuage her whirring mind should Ren grow too impetuous in her presence.

And should her questioning become too pesky, you fretted over what Ren’s reaction to it may be. The more you tried to avoid thinking about it the more you seemed to fixate on the topic, pondering just how much goading it would take from your daughter before his temper would rear its ugly head. You, above anyone, had firsthand experience in just how volatile the man could be, the scars that littered your body a testament to his turbulent emotions and violent outbursts.

Looking back on it now, it’s a wonder you survived any of it at all.

Ren often told you he loved you, each confession spoken through honeyed words that spilled from his lips easily and often. And while you didn’t doubt those words (you knew better than to, at this point), you also knew his sweet nothings weren’t merely a term of endearment, they also served as your curse. He loved you, but he also loved your fealty to him, your adoration and worship of him and only him. Should you not reciprocate his feelings as quickly or ardently as he expected, the mere thought of whatever punishment he would concoct was enough to send you into a debilitating panic attack.

There were few things he loathed more than when you flinched from his affection or if you exhibited any sign of distress towards his presence, especially after he had spent so many years going above and beyond to provide for you, devote himself to you. You had learned early on to keel any feelings of aversion you had to his advances, several of your more prominent scars a brutal reminder of that misstep alone.

If your daughter uncovered the truth and saw her father for who he truly was, if she began to fear him the way you feared him, how would he respond? If not only his partner, but his own daughter started shying away from him, what length would he go to to correct this behavior?

Dwelling on it made your skin crawl.

But perhaps all of your worries were asinine. Despite his inclination for cruelty, Ren had never so much as raised a hand towards your daughter, even when she did act up. If anything, he was overprotective of her, barely letting her move faster than a brisk jog lest she fall and hurt herself. He hated seeing his little girl experience even a modicum of physical pain, mentioning to you previously that were he able, he’d keep her locked up in a padded room all day and night to prevent any foreseeable accidents or injuries. Surely it was just his idea of a joke, but the insinuation still made you cringe.

It was almost comical, just how greatly the manifestation of his affection for her differed from how he showed his love for you.

His domineering nature shielded her from experiencing any true pain. Every scrape, bruise, and cut she ever received was superficial, nothing that caused major bleeding or left a lasting impression. She had no way of knowing what had been done to you to cause the scars that marred your form, the torment and hell you experienced with each slash, smack, burn. Hell, she probably didn’t even really understand what a scar actually was. All she knew was that her mommy and daddy had strange marks on their skin that didn’t follow any kind of set pattern, weird jagged lines and indents that her soft skin was curiously free from. The mystery of it all was as puzzling to her young mind as it was enticing.

However, some mysteries were best left unsolved, and just as with each other time she brought up this hot topic, you found yourself unable to look into her clear, bright eyes and tell her any semblance of the truth. She may have been forced upon you, but she was your daughter. You loved her, and you refused to be the one to shatter her innocence. You would keep her ignorant for as long as possible, shielding her to the endless nightmare of your daily lives, even if it cost you your sanity.

“Mommy,” her voice jarred you, dragging you from your thoughts, “mommy did you hear me? I said I think they are pretty!”

“T-that’s… I…” You stuttered, struggling to find the right words to say, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended it to. The room felt like it had dropped thirty degrees, your body twitching in response to the sudden chill.

“Daddy told me he gave some of them to you, like this one,” her pudgy, cold finger pressed into the faded heart that resided on your chest, the first of many indelible sins he had etched onto your form. Only the top half of the carved symbol was viewable above the collar of your shirt, so she tugged at the loose hem until she could see it in its horrible entirety.

“Daddy said he gave you this one because he loves you so much,” her voice grew quiet, a thoughtful look in her eye as they drank in wounds you wished you could forget, “Daddy loves me too, right mommy? You think he’ll give me a cute heart someday too?”

You felt as if you had been hit by a train.

“S-top,” the words were forced from your throat, airy and breathless, as if someone was wringing your neck to make them come out, “p-please, just stop talking.”

“What did you say mama,” your daughters sing-song voice responded as her fingers continued to trace and prod your scars, “You are whispering, is it a secret?”

“I told you to SHUT UP!”

As if following your command, your booming voice instantly silenced the small girl. Unused to such a violent outburst from her mother, her happy-go-lucky nature quickly shifted to one of alert, her tiny body going rigid as she stared up at you with fearful eyes.

Seeing her in such a state and knowing that you were the cause of it would normally have killed you inside, making you fall to your knees to beg for the child’s forgiveness. But right now, the thin thread that had been holding you together had snapped, and your words rushed out in a torrent you couldn’t begin to quell.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” You seethed, clasping your hands to your ears to try and block out your own intrusive voice, “Just STOP TALKING about it! What are you even saying? Why would you ever want to look like this?!”

Tears started to flood your eyes, blurring the image of the girl who had quickly jumped from your lap and was now cowering before you. Through your bleary vision, you could see tears were brimming her eyes as well.

“You… You have no idea,” your voice warbled, shaking in equal parts grief and frustration, “You have no clue what you are saying, so just STOP IT. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!”

You slunk from the chair down to the floor, burying your face in your cold, stiff hands. The soft blubbering of your daughter could be heard through your own sobbing.

“I-I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Hearing her broken voice began to shatter the spell you had been under, instant regret jerking you roughly back to reality. Your head sunk lower, your body scrunching itself up as tightly as possible to hide from this cruel reality.

Your screams were born from deeply buried feelings of hatred, tucked far, far away as a means of self-preservation. For a moment, you felt as if you despised your daughter, her existence tethering you to this wretched excuse of a life, binding you irrevocably to Ren. But as you lifted your heavy head, glancing up to stare into her young face, a face so very similar to your own, a face contorted in panic and sadness over her mother’s abrupt descent into madness… you realized it wasn’t her that you hated.

It was yourself.

Your daughter didn’t deserve this. She deserved normalcy. She deserved a father that didn’t pose a threat to her. She deserved a mother that wasn’t ruined by his hands. She deserved a happy and untroubled life, not to be stuck being raised in a barbed cage, navigating her way through life with nothing but the shattered remains of a battered woman to guide her.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked under the weight of your overwhelming emotions, snot and tears running freely down your ruddy cheeks and chin, “I’m so, so sorry baby…”

“What the hell is going on?”

You hadn’t heard the front door open, nor had you heard Ren’s jubilant greeting as he entered your home. He had no doubt been upset by the lack of welcome-it was one thing to be ignored by a child, but his doting wife? That was not something he was not apt to look past.

But surely any feelings of annoyance or frustration fled from his mind the moment he entered the room, his eyes falling upon your crumpled, messy form collapsed on the floor. You cursed his arrival, upset that he entered the scene at such a compromising time, right as you were struggling to regain an ounce of composure and properly apologize to the little girl who had done nothing wrong.

“D-daddy,” your daughter’s voice warbled as she barreled towards him, colliding into his waiting embrace. You wiped at your face in a desperate attempt to hide your previous outpouring of emotions, doing your best to avoid eye contact with Ren as his sharp gaze quickly flicked from you, to his daughter.

This had already become enough of a scene without Ren’s interference, it was best to try and begin damage control now.

“Daddy I-I made mommy cry!” Tears continued to pour from your daughter’s eyes, her face twisting into a look of pure dismay. Her misguided admission of guilt made you recoil, knowing full well it would grant her no favors with the person she seeking comfort from. “I’m really sorry daddy! I didn’t mean to!”

After several endless seconds of silence, Ren spoke.

“… You made her cry?”

His voice was far sharper than it needed to be, further agitating the precarious state of affairs. In most cases he would have offered your daughter leniency, letting her get away with far more than she probably should. However that leniency was null and void if you ended up suffering in the process. Ren could not forgive anyone that caused you any duress (himself, of course, being the exemption) even if that person was his own flesh and blood.

“What do you mean you made her cry? What the hell did you do to her?”

“I-I don’t know,” she wailed, a fresh wave of tears spurred on by the accusatory tone of her father’s voice, “I just told mommy I thought her marks were pretty and then she started crying! I wasn’t lying daddy, I like them! I think they make mommy look really pretty!”

“Her marks…?” Ren’s look of vexation began to dissipate as the meaning of her words donned on him. He lifted his arm, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own scars to the little girl. Pointing a clawed finger to them, he leaned down until he was looking her in the eye, “You mean like these?”

As she nodded her head vigorously in confirmation, Ren tutted, “That’s the reason for all the water works? An innocent compliment started all this fussing?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Isn’t that a little bit… silly?

You tensed at the sound of his barking laugh, your frown deepening as an amused grin spread wider across his lips. You wished that you could say it was shocking for him to have such disregard after finding the two of you in such an agitated state, but it was painfully in character of him to shrug off your misery and suffering as inconsequential. How he could so nonchalantly normalize this hellish situation he kept you and your child ensnared in, you would never understand.

Your daughter was apparently sharing similar thoughts, as her face began to once more morph into a pre-sobbing scowl. She was no doubt wounded that her father was not offering her the comfort she was seeking, her emotional state already greatly weakened by her mother’s venomous tantrum.

To help quell another round of tears, Ren pulled the child closer, wrapping her up in his arms so that her tiny form was nearly enveloped by him. “Shhh, no more tears angel,” he cooed sweetly, patting her head gently to appease her, “There isn’t any reason to cry, especially because… Well, you’re right! Mommy’s whole body is pretty, isn’t it? Her marks just compliment the beauty that’s already there.”

Slowly but surely, her tears began to dissipate. Hunched over shoulders loosened, and sniffles and hiccups gave way to even breathing. Like clockwork, her father’s gentle handling soothed her, the same touch that destroyed you offering her salvation.

As if under a spell, the turmoil that had overcome your daughter quickly began to vanish, her sobbing fading into quiet sniffles. Once she was fully calmed, Ren continued speaking, “That’s all you meant to say to mommy, right angel? I’m sorry she took it the wrong way, she’s probably just tired or hungry, you know how mommy gets. She’ll get over it in no time flat!”

Heat spread through your body at his flippant dismissal of your feelings, an indignant blush lighting your cheeks as you gripped your hands tightly at your side. Your previous emotional episode left you all but drained, but your will to fight back against his callous commentary could never truly be contained.

“In fact, I bet she is already over it now,” Ren’s voice took on a jovial tone as he directed his focus solely on you, “Aren’t you, pumpkin?”

With the ball suddenly in your court, you flinched as both sets of expectant eyes fell on you. Your own eyes darted from Ren’s piercing glare, down to your daughter’s wide-eyed look of unbridled hope. You felt much like the rabbit that had been caught by the fox, stuck in a lose-lose situation. Seeing him hunched over her small body as she clutched to him as a life line, openly concerned that her mother may once more reject her while her father remained a bastion of strength and understanding, left you reeling. Either you would get heated again and stay the villain, but possibly hold on to an ounce of your dignity, or concede to Ren and have yet another piece of your soul wither away and die-the price to pay so that your daughter could remain in blissful ignorance for another day.

“Aren’t you, pumpkin?” He repeated himself slowly, enunciating each word. The kindness in his voice serving only as a mask for the threat buried beneath.

“Y-yes,” you responded quickly, shooting them both a smile you hoped was convincing, “I am very sorry, baby. Daddy is right. Mommy is just… tired.”

A serene smile lit her face, your words placating her. Seeing her happy once more helped relieve a bit of the ache in your own heart, making the lie worth it.

“Good, good,” Ren affirmed with a nod, carefully detaching himself from your daughter as he stood, “but you know little one, mommy deserves some love too, don’t you think? She may have been in the wrong, but it’s not nice to make her cry like that. Why don’t you go give her a hug, hm?”

With no further persuading necessary, she quickly padded over to you, hopping on your lap with so much enthusiasm that it nearly knocked the wind from you. Her arms tightly latched around your torso as she smushed her face into your chest, rubbing it back and forth like she was trying to burrow beneath your skin.

“I love you mommy,” her voice spoke clearly, any hint of previous sadness long gone. You sighed, relieved that this dramatic chapter was over as you pulled your daughter closer to you.

“I love you too.”

During this show of affection, Ren had made his way behind you, slinking so deftly you hadn’t even known he had moved until you heard him chuckle softly behind you.

“This is what I like to see,” he spoke with a sickeningly dreamy sigh, “nothing makes me happier than when my two girls are happy.”

He placed his hands gingerly atop your shoulders, trailing them down until they rested on your arms. His thumbs pressed gently against the marred skin, rubbing in a small circular motion in an attempt to subdue you. His claws grazed your flesh, uncomfortably scratching against you as they snagged against your skin.

He planted a firm and lingering kiss to the side of your head, pulling away just enough that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. “There really was nothing to cry about,” he whispered breathily, his words quiet enough that despite your daughters’ proximity, she would have no chance of hearing them. “It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you are, scars and all. But you must know that, right my sweet pet? I tell you all the time.”

Ren took in a deep breath, releasing it in a shaky sigh, “Seeing these scars reminds me of all we have been through, all that we share. They are a symbol of our bond.”

One of his claws pressed down sharply, a small bead of blood pooling around the piercing. Leisurely he began to drag his finger up your arm, a thin red line following in its wake. You shivered at the burning sensation, but deigned to give him any reaction further than that.

“Don’t forget pumpkin, these pretty marks are a reminder of my constant love for you.” He chuckled softly, peppering a few kisses to the back of your neck while his claws slowly sunk deeper, “And right now I am feeling terribly sentimental, so for old times’ sake, why don’t I add a few more to remind you just how precious to me you are~?”

285 notes · View notes

tetsuissohot · 3 days

Text

Toji Fushijuro ONESHOT

☆summary. After a painful breakup, Y/N thought she had moved on from Toji Fushiguro, but when he reappears in her life, old feelings resurface. Toji, determined to win her back, confesses his regret and desire for a second chance. As the two wrestle with unresolved emotions, Y/N faces the struggle between her lingering love for him and the fear of getting hurt again. In the midst of their heated confrontation, passion takes over, and Y/N must decide if Toji’s promises are enough to trust him once more.

☆warning/tags: 18+fem!reader, casual, SFW, building up tention, ex's to lovers?, part 1

☆word count:5.1k

☆a/n: This my first work lol, please be kind and tell me where I can get improve! I'm thinking of doing a second part for this oneshot where things get a bit spicier. I hope you enjoy!

part 2

The dimly lit bar was buzzing with the low hum of chatter and clinking glasses, but Y/N barely registered it. She stared blankly at the glass in her hand, swirling the amber liquid inside as her thoughts drifted elsewhere. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind—missions, responsibilities, and emotions she had long since buried.

But all of that seemed insignificant when he walked in.

Toji Fushiguro.

Y/N’s grip tightened around her glass at the sight of him. Even in the crowded bar, his presence was commanding—tall, broad-shouldered, and carrying an aura that both attracted and warned people to stay away. His dark green eyes scanned the room with a predator's calm until they landed on her. A smirk tugged at his lips.

He walked toward her, his steps confident and sure, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. And maybe he did—Toji had always been direct, never one to beat around the bush. But it wasn’t his confidence that made Y/N’s heart race; it was the fact that seeing him again brought back memories she had worked so hard to suppress.

“Mind if I sit?” His voice was deep, gruff, and achingly familiar.

Y/N didn’t bother looking up as she took another sip of her drink. “It’s a free country.”

Unfazed by her cold response, Toji pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, his eyes never leaving her face. He leaned back casually, arms draped over the chair like he had all the time in the world.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.

Y/N finally met his eyes, her expression unreadable. “I’m not avoiding you, Toji. We’re just... done. I thought we both agreed on that.”

Toji’s smirk faded, and his face took on a seriousness that Y/N hadn’t seen in a long time. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Maybe you did. I didn’t.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she forced herself to stay composed. “You were the one who walked away,” she reminded him, her voice steady. “You were the one who said this—we—weren’t meant to last.”

Toji’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening. He remembered that day all too well. The bitter words he had thrown at her, the way he had convinced himself that he was better off alone—that she was better off without him. But now, sitting across from her, the regret felt like a weight pressing down on his chest.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he admitted, his voice softer now, laced with something Y/N wasn’t used to hearing from him—vulnerability. “I thought it would be easier for you if I wasn’t in the picture.”

Y/N scoffed, setting her glass down with a clink. “Easier? You think walking out without an explanation made things easier for me?”

Toji winced, his usual unshakable demeanor faltering. He wasn’t used to this—wasn’t used to being the one in the wrong. But he knew he couldn’t sugarcoat it, couldn’t charm his way out of this like he did with everything else.

“You deserved better,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I was messed up. Still am, probably. But…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “I’m not here to make excuses. I’m here because—dammit—I want you back.”

Y/N stared at him, shock flashing across her face before she quickly masked it with indifference. “You don’t get to just come back after disappearing, Toji. I moved on.”

Toji’s eyes darkened, the idea of her moving on hitting him harder than he anticipated. He wasn’t used to losing—especially not to someone else. The thought of Y/N with anyone else made his blood boil, but he forced himself to calm down.

“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said slowly, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m asking for a second chance.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to keep the walls she had built around her heart intact. “You can’t just walk back into my life whenever it’s convenient for you. I’ve been fine without you, Toji.”

He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming. “Have you? Because I haven’t been.”

Y/N felt the weight of his words settle over her. Toji was never one to admit weakness, never one to let his guard down. But here he was, laying it all out in front of her, as raw and honest as she’d ever seen him.

“You think this is easy for me?” he continued, his voice rough. “It’s not. I’m no good at this… at us. But I’m trying, Y/N. I’ve spent every day since we split wishing I hadn’t walked away.”

Y/N could feel the cracks forming in her defenses. She wanted to be angry—was angry—but there was something in Toji’s eyes that made it hard to hold onto that anger. She’d never seen him like this, so exposed.

“Toji…” Y/N began, but her voice faltered, unsure of what to say.

“Just tell me there’s still something there,” Toji said, his voice almost pleading now. “Tell me I’m not too late.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she searched his face, her emotions swirling in a storm of confusion, anger, and longing. She had loved him once—loved him deeply. And even though she had tried to move on, a part of her had never really let go.

But was that enough?

“You hurt me,” Y/N said quietly, her voice barely audible over the noise of the bar. “And I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

Toji’s face softened, his hand reaching out across the table, hesitating before he touched hers. When his fingers finally brushed against her skin, it was tentative, as if he wasn’t sure if he had the right to touch her anymore.

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto hers. “But I won’t make that mistake again. I swear.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken feelings. Y/N looked down at his hand on hers, feeling the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his gaze.

She had every reason to push him away, to tell him it was too late. But in the depth of her heart, she knew that despite everything, she still cared for him.

“I need time,” Y/N finally said, her voice soft but firm. “I’m not promising anything, Toji. But… I’ll think about it.”

Relief flooded Toji’s face, and for the first time in a long while, he smiled—really smiled. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

As they sat there in the dim light, their hands still touching, Y/N realized that maybe second chances weren’t always about forgetting the past. Sometimes, they were about finding a way to move forward—together, despite the scars.

And maybe, just maybe, Toji Fushiguro was worth the risk.

Thank you for reading xoxo

let me know if you want part II!

133 notes · View notes

zu8her · 9 months

Text

✧･ﾟ 𝕾𝖙𝖚𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖊 | 𝕷𝖆𝖜

✧･ﾟ𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘 — med-student!law ⋆ drugdealer!law ⋆ campusreporter!reader ⋆ accidental drug ingestion ⋆ aphrodisiac drug ⋆ student profile ⋆ sex under the influence of aphrodisiac ⋆ fucking ⋆ they be fuckin' ⋆ implied black reader ⋆ stretch marks mentioned ⋆ backshots ⋆ semi-public(??) ⋆ bj ⋆ slow sex

✧･ﾟ𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘 — it's been a fuckin' while. sorry i've not been confident in my abilities as a writer so i put it off for awhile. like i was legit insecure and thought about deleting my acc lol. but decided not to. hope you enjoy this

✧･ﾟ𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 — 1K (𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖎𝖈 𝕴'𝖛𝖊 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖔 𝖋𝖆𝖗)

You lightly knocked on his door patiently staring at the room number. Your heart pounding, this may be dangerous. He may be dangerous, yet here you are.

You recently discovered a student on campus has been selling experimental drugs, fairly mild but drugs nonetheless. It had been another taxing day for you. Running around, chasing after a cold case. From dead-end to dead-end. Finally, you got a tip. A med-student was responsible, Trafalgar D. Law.

When you so much as voiced that you had a story you wanted to run, the editor shut you down. “No, you don’t. I tell you what to write,” he spat shoving your camera into your stomach. He then assigned you do a basic student profile. Guess on who? So, you're taking this chance to actually do your job and snoop.

Opening the door, he recognised you immediately. Braids in a neat ponytail, white button up and a preppy lilac skirt. The cute girl always taking pictures for the campus newspaper. “The Editor sent me. He said you owed him a favour.” Sighing, he moves aside to let you in before shutting the door.

While you scan his room, he manoeuvres past you. On a cabinet to your left a small bag of gummy bears catches your eye. With his back turned you swipe one out of the bag, reflexively eating it when he rotated his chair to face you.

“You want to interview me, right?”

“Yes, I’m doing a student profile.”

He shrugged gesturing to the chair in front of him. Taking a seat, you introduce yourself before asking permission to record the interview, placing your phone on his desk and starting.

You’ve gone through half of the questions on your clipboard, when it started to get hot. Heavy breathes, followed. Your chest was tingling. You kept slightly rocking back and forth, subconsciously, squeezing your thighs together. Your nipples started to perk through the shirt.

You couldn’t focus. Your eyes instead settling to dart across his body. From the tattoos on his chest and hands to his well defined forearms. “Excuse me, I just feel a bit hot,” you awkwardly smile unbuttoning your shirt. To get more comfortable on his chair, he laid back spreading his legs. Instinctively, your eyes landed on his crotch. He smiled deviously. “Did you take on of the gummy bears?”

“I took just one. What is it?”

“That batch are aphrodisiacs.”

You watch, dazed as he stands before you, leaning down to cup your chin and twist your face for observation. “Heightened arousal.” You stare down at his crotch before meeting his gaze, salivating. Gently he lets go, staring down at the drugs for a moment before scoffing and popping one in his mouth. "I needed to test these anyway."

Cosily laid on Law’s bed, you whine as he thrusts into you. Hearing him whimper as he looks down at your fucked-out smile and watches your tits bounce along with his thrusts. One of your legs propped over his shoulder as he rams his fat cock into your sensitive pussy. He smirks down at you as you squirm feeling another orgasm tear through you. He leaned in, his head on your shoulder as he delivered deep strokes to drag out your orgasm. “Fuck,” he whimpered against your ear before he came. You twitch as he slowly humps his cum deeper.

Your face, stuffed against the bed cushions, ass up as he fucks you from behind. Alternating between backshots to sitting on your ass and plunging his overstimulated cock into your creamy hole. His favourite is your muffled moans, the way your eyes roll back with his deep thrusts. Enjoying the way your arse jiggle against him, his hand firmly on your waist his thumb softly caressing darkened stretch marks. Watching your pussy convulse with his cum dripping out, drove him to near insanity. He had to, just had to fuck more of his cum into you. You looked so good like this.

He rolled you over. With your leg trapped under him he wrapped his right arm around your waist and his left to grip your arse holding you steady as he rolled his cock into your dripping cunt. All you could do is grip his hair while he stared you down with faint smirk and blush decorating his cheeks.

You were now propped up over his desk, his cock fucking into you as he buried his head in your neck. Watching through the small opening of the curtains as the rest of Uni goes about their day while your getting ruthlessly fucked. Feeling him grope your tits and whimper as he fucks up into you. “You feel so good, fuck-”

Licking his and your cum off his cock as you humped his pillow. Deep-throating. Taking all of his cock in your mouth, feeling his hairs lightly graze your cheek and his tip at the back of throat, before releasing his cock with deep breathes following, earning a whimper-like groan from him as he sat back on his chair. Hooded, fucked out eyes looking down at you, yearning, aching for more. His whimpers becoming more erratic prompting him to pull out and spurt his cum on your tits and mouth before gently cupping your face and pushing his cock down your throat once more. “Just a little bit more, okay baby? That’s it.” He coos with a hoarse voice.

You’d both grown tired at this point. The only driving force, seemingly being the stimulant. The high was dying down. He laid you comfortably between his sheets on you stomach. With the duvet lazily hanging off his shoulders, he slid his cock back in. “Just relax, okay?” He slow fucked into mouthing curses with his head hung low. When he felt you clench around him, he buried his cock deep as you came around his cock. Pulling out he would deliver his last moan as he rubbed his sensitive cock, spurts of his cum coating your arse and back.

Silently, you sit at your desk listening to the recording. At the 42 minute mark, listening to him drop to his knees then at your moans as he slid down your panties and ate you out. The recording is about 5 hours long. Barely an hour of which is the actual interview and the last few minutes Law moaning as he came.

“Did you interview him?” You look up at the student editor. “Uhh, yes! I did. I’ll send-”

“I want it by Monday.”

“Will do!” On his way out, he stopped by the door, his hand gripping the frame. He tilts his head slightly.

“About your story-”

“Dead end.” You lie and watch as he nods and leave. Looks like Law’s the editors supplier.

437 notes · View notes

yumeka-sxf · 4 months

Text

It's been a few months since my last merch haul post, so time for another one! As usual, acrylic stands are my main purchases, with the below set being one of the rarest I've found 💖

The reason these are so rare is because I couldn't get them from my usual places on Amiami and Mercari JP. They're from a company called Ultrizon and are currently only sold in China. I saw them advertised on Twitter from a shop in Thailand and decided to reach out on the off chance that the shop would ship to the US. And much to my pleasant surprise, the shop, Chibishiba, replied and said that they would ship to me 😃 I was a bit concerned because they seemed to be just a small "mom and pop" shop, with only Twitter DMs as their form of communication and they kept track of everyone's orders in a google sheet. But I looked around on their social media and they seemed legit, so I placed an order (a few other fanatics I know on Discord did as well!) And thankfully, they were totally legit! They ordered the items from China, then once they shipped to Thailand, they then shipped to me in the US! Only took a few weeks 😁

Here's some more photos because they're so lovely~ For some reason the two Twiyor sets make me think of a scenario where they're going to a dance or other fancy event together (the left ones), but then something happens and they have to switch to "action mode" to stop a villain, save Anya, etc (the right ones).

Bond looks so adorable in his suit~ Also the one of Anya on the left is her totally thinking "Papa and Mama are so cool 🤩"

Even though I typically only buy merch with the Forgers, Yuri, Damian, and Franky were also part of this set. Lol, when I made the below photo of the three of them, I laughed because it looks like they're posing for a photo, with only Damian having fun…Yuri's like "whatever" and Franky's like "how long will this take, I have a date!" 😂

Besides the Ultrizon acrylics, the other ones I was most looking forward to getting were these chibi ones from the cruise arc (two different sets)

Between all of these, I now have acrylics of the Forgers' full wardrobe from the cruise arc 😅 My favorites are suit Yor, "I won't stop fighting" Yor, and Fun Dad Loid!

I really liked these Twiyor acrylics from the recent Tsukuba collab. It's like they're going on a hiking date ❤️

I also got these chibi "famous scene" acrylics from the Waku Waku Park event.

I've been trying so hard to get the complete set of these big acrylics for a few months now...I managed to find Loid and Anya, but no one is selling Yor 😭 (or Bond). I won't stop looking though!

As for non-acrylic figures, I've been looking forward to getting this Yor & Anya figure for over a year! It was actually one of the first SxF items I preordered, way back in November of 2022! Considering they had the colored prototype available way back then, I'm surprised it wasn't officially released until March of 2024. But worth the wait ❤️

For Code White's release, I got the set of Luminasta figures (all three for a good price on eBay).

Also chibi Loid & Yor~ I know there's a ton of chibi Loid and Yor figures out there, but I really liked these for some reason.

Last month I went back to Kura Sushi for the last merch from their recent collab: this nice shirt~ You were able to get it if your bill was at least $70, which isn't hard to do if you bring a friend with you and you both eat a bunch of sushi! (well, he did most of the eating, lol). I'm planning to wear it for the first time at Anime Expo in July 😁

They also had this little Anya dessert.

And miscellaneous items I recently got were these pretty picture cards that I plan to make scans of.

The McDonald's collab booklet, the season 2 complete set box, and the Loid & Anya cloth poster that came with the box. I also plan to make scans of these!

A mug from the Tobu Zoo collab.

And lastly, some new decals for my car! I found this set at Walmart of all places, lol. Found room for them among my other decals.

Since I bought so many new acrylics and figures lately, I had to do a major reorganization of my display shelves. But I'll save those photos for another post~

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond forger #twiyor #sxf merch #damian desmond #becky blackbell #yuri briar #fiona frost #franky franklin

197 notes · View notes

kenny-the-ken · 2 years

Note

Imagine being high school sweethearts with kenny and quickly trying to have sex without getting caught because he’s so horny lmao like hes begging for some head round the back of the school lol

Don't Be Shy

I love love LOVE this request!!! Part 2 of YOU + ME and My Brother's Best Friend will hopefully be up by later tonight or tomorrow!! Please keep the requests coming guys, writing these are keeping me sane at the moment, the terrible twos are no joke 😭💀 AGED UP CHARACTERS!!

"Baby, please? Not even a quickie?" Kenny whined at you, as you continued to walk down the school corridor, shaking your head.

"No way, Ken. After school, yes of course, but in school where we could get caught? Nuh-uh!" You replied and he frowned, pouting his lips at you and trying his best to give you puppy dog eyes.

"But watching you in Physical Education babe, god and the fact you swore that skort too, it's so short and your boobs and ass looked incredible! Please?" And he was back once again on his tangent of begging and pleading with you, and he was starting to wear you down, and he knew it.

"Okay, what about, we don't have to have sex, but maybe even a quick blowie out the back where no one is during class times?" Kenny asked and you paused for a moment, seriously considering it.

"I'll think about it." Was all you said, before giving him a quick kiss on the lips and making your way to class.

He had a free period while you were in art, and having most of your work done, you decided to toy with your overly horny boyfriend.

Y/n: Hey Ken, can I ask you a question?

Kenny 🧡: Yeah baby, what's up?

Y/n: So I bought some new lingerie a few days back and I only got round to trying it on yesterday evening, I took a few pics for you, I just wanted your opinion on them.

Attachment: 5 images

Kenny opened them and his jaw dropped to his feet, you were so good at taking lude shots of yourself, and you knew this would drive him crazy, his cock was rock solid, and that's exactly what you wanted.

Kenny 🧡: I think I want you to wait for me in the disabled access toilet on the first floor.

And you smirked scanning his message before putting up your hand and asking to be dismissed to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to you, when you got there the door was locked, and you tried the handle a few times, before the person on the inside unlocked it, opened it enough for you to be pulled in by their hand and the door was locked again as Kenny pinned you to it.

"You think you're funny, hmm? Sending me those pictures of you looking like you were just waiting for me to come in and tear them off you and remind you who this pussy belongs to." He said, his hand going straight up your school skirt and right to your wet panties.

You let out a small moan at the contact and Kenny slowly pushed you to the floor on your knees, unbuckling his belt and pulling his jeans and boxers down, his large cock springing free and sitting against his stomach.

"Suck." Was all he said, grabbing your hair that was tied in a high pony and moving your face closer to his dick. You grabbed it with your hand, your tongue licking the bead of precum off the tip before hollowing your cheeks and taking him as best you could into your mouth.

Fuck this was just what Kenny needed, he'd been longing for you, your mouth, your pussy, anything as long as it was you. And his moans were deep and breathy, as you bobbed your head, staring up at him with a gaze of innocence.

"So pretty, Princess. Looking so innocent with your lips wrapped around my cock." Kenny moaned out, his hips bucking forward causing you to choke slightly, and he smirked.

"What's wrong, can't take it baby?" He teased before setting a quick pace with his hips bucking forward, you could feel his cock hitting the back of your throat, saliva and precum running down your chin, your hands on Kenny's thighs as you swallowed around him, earning a strangled moan from him.

"Fuck, your throat feels so good, what a little slut you really are." Kenny groaned once more, gasping as your hands cupped his balls, massaging them gently, your cheeks hollowing around him, sucking as best as you could, your eyes watering.

"Gonna make you look like a mess, slut." He moaned out, his hips quickening and his thrusts starting to become sloppy.

"Getting close, baby, gonna come in your mouth and you're gonna swallow everything I give you, understand?" Kenny asked, earned a hum from yourself in response as his grip tightened on your hair, moving your head quicker to meet his rough thrusts.

"F-Fuck, y/n!" Kenny moaned out, his vision going white as he came in your mouth, his back arching slightly, your head still bobbing up and down his over sensitive cock, milking every drop of cum from him, and swallowing, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you smirked up at him.

His hand cupped your face, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "You have no idea the things I'm gonna do to you when we get back to my house." His voice was deep, and he offered you his hand to help you up, pulling you into a warm embrace.

"Thank you, baby. I love you." Kenny whispered into your ear, placing a kiss on your forehead before slapping you on the ass.

"Now get that pretty ass of yours back to class before we get in trouble." He said, and you laughed, a smile on your face, kissing your boyfriend before unlocking the door, sneaking out one after the other as Kenny walked you to your class, leaving you off with a kiss.

"I'll meet you at lunchtime." He said with a wink, before heading back to his free period.

Your teacher inquired as to why you had been gone for so long as you made up an excuse, saying you felt like you were going to be sick, but you and Kenny both knew that was was the furthest thing from the truth.

#kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick smut #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny south park #kyle south park #stan south park #stan marsh #eric cartman #south park #kyle brovlofski #south park x reader #kenny x reader #sp x reader #x reader #south park fandom #fanfic

2K notes · View notes

bunnyywritings · 6 months

Text

nerves and motorcycle rides

SOUL EATER EVANS x FEM!READER

[a/n: i'm gonna change my theme so i'll add a header later but i've been rewatching my favorite shows so expect more of these! enjoy !! <3]

wc: 1.5k words

warnings: a few swear words and modern!au kinda lol

Maka eyed Soul in amusement, watching as her weapon partner gazed at you in the cafeteria. You had been chatting it up with your meister as you two waited in line, trays in hand. Soul had been crushing on you bad. He was disheartened because he thought you and your partner were a couple but that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

She had spoken to you at a party a few days ago and subtly asked if you were seeing anyone. You adamantly denied it as your eyes searched the small crowd until falling on a familiar head of white hair, a deep red blush on your cheeks that you had hoped Maka had waved off as the liquor in your cup, that you definitely should not have been drinking.

From then on it was almost sickening to see the sweet unnoticed glances the both of you threw at each other.

“Soul, just ask her out already.” Tsubaki suggested lightheartedly, stealing the words that were about to roll off of Maka’s tongue.

The blonde nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Soul. Cool guys should speak up about what they’re feeling.” She teased.

“Tch, forget it.” He turned back to look at his food, pushing it around with a fork. “She’s already with someone.”

“Who? (Y/n)? No she’s not.” Kid hummed as he, Liz, and Patty took their seats at the table.

“How would you know?” Soul grimaced, waiting for some kind of punchline.

“Cause she said so.” Patty shrugged like it was the most obvious thing ever.

“She comes over to get her nails done by Liz and she’s surprisingly very gossip-y.” Kid took a sip of his water.

“Yeah, she said she had her eye on someone.” Liz moved her eyebrows suggestively at Soul. “She was trying to be vague about her description but it was obviously you.”

Soul said nothing as he processed all this information. As long as he had known you, you were always a little shy and closed off. Maka and the others had helped you out of your cocoon so, when you all hung out together outside of school, he got to see another side of you. Your boisterous laughter was melodic and infectious, your smiles unabashed and wide, even going as far as throwing around sarcastic and snarky quips here and there. It was his favorite thing to see your cheeks rosy as you joined Patty in whatever silly antics possessed her.

“Hey guys!” Your meister grinned as you both took a seat. Your eyes scanned everyone before they met Soul’s. He could’ve sworn they lit up as you sent a shy smile his way.

Oh Lord, you were gonna be the death of him.

The weekend came rather quickly and Soul found himself bored and alone at home. Maka had gone to the library with Tsubaki and Kid to study and Blair was working a shift at Chupa Cabra’s. He had cleaned to keep busy but after that, there really wasn’t much to do and it was only 12pm.

“Oh man, this is totally uncool.” He muttered, slumping into the couch cushion. He stared at the wall for a bit before a vibration against his thigh snapped him out of his daze. Hastily pulling it out of his pocket, he flipped it over and his heart started to beat faster at your picture filling his screen. He cleared his throat.

“Hey, what’s up?”

His voice sent a shiver down your spine. “H-Hey Soul, are you-are you busy?”

“Not at all.” Never too busy for you is what he really wanted to say.

“Okay, uhm well I was gonna grab s-some coffee and maybe go shopping.” You paused and he waited patiently for you to continue. “I was wondering if you wanted to maybe come with me?”

He was stunned silent, you wanted to hang out with him? “But only if you want to! There’s-uhm there’s no pressure, obv-obviously.” He thought your panic was cute.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun. I’m in. I’ll pick you up in…20 minutes. S’that okay?”

“Y-yeah! Yes, more than okay. See you in twenty!” He could hear your beaming smile and it made his lips stretch into one as well.

“I’ll see you in twenty.” He confirmed before hanging up.

He rushed to get dressed, grabbing his extra helmet before driving the familiar route to your apartment.

Your fingertips were buzzing with nervous excitement as you waited for Soul, however, as a familiar motorcycle came rumbling to a stop not too far from you, your nerves skyrocketed. How could you forget he drove a motorcycle?!

“Hey! Ready to go?” He smiled so gently at you, it almost made you forget about your nerves entirely. Keyword: almost.

“Uhm y-yeah, I just uh…I’ve never been on a-a motorcycle before.” Your cheeks were incredibly red and he eyed as you fiddled with your nails.

“Ah shit, I should’ve asked if that was okay.” He was mentally smacking his forehead. “I could get us an Uber or something?”

“N-No! That’s okay, I don’t mind…just a little nervous.”

“Are you sure?” He’d just die if he ever made you feel uncomfortable.You nodded, determination clear in your eyes that made a little smirk lift the edge of his mouth. “Alright, hop on.”

He got on first, holding the bike steady as you climbed on the seat behind him. You had the visor up on the helmet and he thought it was adorable to see how it squished your cheeks a little bit. “You can wrap your arms around me to hold on.” He looked down and watched as your shaky hands wrapped around his torso. “Hold on tight, m’kay?” You nodded. “If you want me to slow down, tap twice.” He felt your hand gently smack against where it rested near his hip.

“Good. Just like that.” His praise made your breath hitch.

When he pulled away from the curb, he grinned at the muffled squeak that came from you before you leaned into him even more, arms tightening around him. You were so warm, he could get addicted to your touch if you’d let him.

At a light, he rested his feet against the ground and without really thinking, he rested his hand atop yours. The feeling of his hand had startled you slightly but you definitely weren’t complaining. A surge of confidence filled your body and you shifted your fingers so they slotted between his. He glanced down and almost couldn’t believe it, the back of your hand was a little cold against his warm palm so his thumb moved to gently caress your skin in an attempt to warm you up.

His coffee seemed to taste sweeter than usual but he chalked it up to the rose colored tint that you brought to his life. He had bought a few things at the thrift you had suggested going to but he was most grateful for having been able to see you step in and out of the dressing rooms, asking his opinions on outfits, both of you turning red when you had meekly stepped out in a short black skirt with cherries on it.

Sadly, the day was coming to an end and he had to drop you off back home.

But as he parked and helped you off of his bike, you seemed to be trying to prolong going inside. You gazed at him for a second. He was leaning on his bike and facing you, half sitting on his seat with his legs spread. He was also letting himself take you in. You had gotten cold and he had gladly given you his blue pullover to wear.

“Okay…well uhm th-thanks Soul. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too…” He looked down at his feet, desperately thinking of something else to say.

You smiled sadly, upset that you were so scared to make a move. “Goodnight.” He echoed the sentiment and watched you slump back into your apartment building, still in his sweater.

“I’m such an idiot.” He groaned, moving to pull his helmet on.

“Soul!” Surprised, he halted his movements and rested the helmet in his lap.

“(Y/n)? What happe-” You rushed over and he was cut off when your lips met his. He immediately reciprocated and held your waist so you didn’t fall over, smiling into the kiss when a small noise left your throat, deepening it and pulling you closer until your hands rested against his chest.

Pulling away, you refused to meet his eyes. So he gently gripped your chin and turned your gaze back to him. “Can I kiss you again?” His pleading tone made you weak in the knees, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. You muttered, “Yes.” And he dove right back in.

Once he was home, a dazed smile was permanently on his lips.

Not even the text message from your weapon in the groupchat could change that.

fucking finally !! [image attached]

If anything, he was glad that the moment was captured, almost straight out of a movie.

#soul eater x reader #soul eater evans x reader #soul eater fluff #soul eater x fem!reader #soul eater evans x fem!reader

166 notes · View notes

narryffdreaming · 1 month

Text

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — FIVE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

PART FIVE: 15,3k words. Author’s note: Hi! I'm so, so sorry it took me this long to update. I rewrote this part so many times it's embarrassing, and now that it's done I'm low-key freaking out that it will end up disappointing after such a long wait lol. Anyway, part 5 is here. I hope you're still around to read it and that you enjoy it :) only 3 more left now!

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR (I) || PART FOUR (II)

When Aurora wakes up, the room is dark, empty and unfamiliar.

She bends her arms by the elbows and perks herself up, leaning on them to scan the space as best as she can — taking in the small window to her right, the faint reflection on the TV in front of her, and the dim light flickering under the bedroom door.

Recollecting her memories feels like a process, and it isn’t until she hears the seabirds crying out and the waves crashing nearby that everything comes back to mind.

She’s on a yacht.

In Italy.

And all of her friends are there.

A smile grows on her lips as Aurora falls back into her pillow, and she closes her eyes just to recall the last moments of the day before—the way she kissed Harry on that floating mat, the way they walked back inside hand-in-hand, and the way they sneakily kissed again before pulling apart to join their friends. Like two rebellious teenagers who couldn’t get caught whilst living a forbidden love.

Except they weren’t teenagers, of course. Nor rebellious.

And except what they had wasn’t love, much less forbidden.

And yet…

Damn.

Joy rushes through her chest, causing her to bring her hands to her face just so she can giggle to herself.

Everything feels so silly, but also so exhilarating. The stolen glances during dinner. The unintentional and unstoppable smiles. How she kept listening to her friends even though she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or how he ran after her when she left the group behind to go to bed, kissing her goodnight and taking her breath away one last time before she officially put an end to that eventful day.

A sigh leaves her mouth, and Aurora drops her arms to her sides. Kissing Harry had never been an option before, nor even a curious thought of her mind. And yet there was a certain level of desperation when it happened. A sense of fucking finally that ran through her veins as soon as their lips met, and that put her skin on fire every time he spread his hand open and squeezed his fingers around her. As if she’d been waiting for it her entire life, and not just less than a day.

Isn’t that… Weird?

Aurora stares at the ceiling, aware that her emotions are too over the place for her to fall asleep again.

What time is it, by the way?

And why is she still all by herself?

Is Maddie still outside?

Is everyone still outside?

Is Harry still outside?

Full of energy, Aurora turns on her side and stretches her arm towards the bedside table, reaching for her phone and bringing it closer to her face. When she unlocks the screen, though, brightness strikes directly into her eyes, making her wince and quickly give up. She groans, then, forcing herself to sit on the bed and curling her legs closer while she rubs her eyelids.

It only takes her a couple of seconds until she tries again, blinking and squinting as she lowers the brightness and Noah’s beaming face takes over the background.

Aurora bites her lip and stares at the screen, admiring the picture she took just a few weeks ago during one of their walks around the park. A thumbs up on one hand and a pink flower on the other, a huge smile spreading from cheek to cheek and the sun warming up his entire face.

He looks a lot like his father, there’s no way to deny that, but his kindness and sensitivity sets him far away from him—something she deep down is grateful for.

It’s hard to believe that something so beautiful and innocent came up from such a complicated and unpredictable relationship. It’s hard to understand that the same man who treated her worse than anyone has ever treated her, is also the same man that gave her the biggest and most honest love she’s ever felt. And it’s hard to comprehend that even though she sometimes wishes she had never met Zack, she would actually never wish she hadn’t married him. Or had a kid with him.

She brushes her thumb up and down the side of her phone, almost as if she could caress her son. She’s never spent this long without him, and she misses him. She truly does. Even if her latest thoughts have failed to show that.

Heaviness sets deep into her belly, and her chest tightens up.

Shit.

What the hell is she doing?

A make-out session with an old friend wasn’t on the schedule. It isn’t even something she ever imagined it would happen. She just… Went with it. She listened to her friends, she had a couple drinks, and she let whatever she was feeling back then take full control of her actions.

She put a pause on her doubts and, for a moment — for how long that moment lasted — she didn’t think about the consequences. She didn’t think about tomorrow. She didn’t think about next Monday. She didn’t think about her son, who was spending the first weekend away from her. And she didn’t think about her ex-husband, who was taking care of their child while she took a weekend off on a luxury yacht in the Amalfi Coast.

She didn’t think about anyone, or anything.

She didn’t question. She didn’t wonder. She didn’t overthink.

Just like everyone said she should do.

Just like her friends told her she should do.

Friends who don’t have kids yet. Friends who don’t have ex-husbands yet. Friends who haven’t failed in life yet. Friends who don’t wonder who they are, or why everything crumbled down around them. Friends who aren’t worried about how they’re going to make it by themselves from now on, or how they’re going to find new dreams for a future that’s nowhere to be seen.

A toilet flushes somewhere, and Aurora jolts. She drops her phone on her lap and looks up, listening to the heavy steps that seem to get closer and louder each time, as if crossing the same floor she’s in and walking directly to her room.

Through the tiny gap under her door, she sees sounds turn into shadows, and then she hears the mumbling. The soft laughing and the shushing, until everything goes quiet and the handle finally moves.

Light from the hallway cracks in while Maddie walks in, carefully and slowly. It’s only a tiny bit, but it hits directly on Aurora’s face, making her raise one hand and cover her eyes.

“Oh,” Maddie whispers, stopping on her tracks. “Sorry. Was trying not to wake you.”

“‘s okay.”

Aurora clears her throat, getting rid of the sudden dryness and soreness.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I don’t know… Why are you sitting in the dark all by yourself?”

“Oh.” Keeping her chin down and one hand up to block the brightness from her face, Aurora shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Right…” Maddie says, dragging each letter a little longer than she normally would.

With a roll of her eyes, Aurora shifts on the bed and drops her body to lay back on the mattress.

“I just woke up, Maddie. Don’t be annoying.”

Maddie laughs and steps inside, letting the light from outside guide her whilst she walks towards the wardrobe and rummages through her clothes.

Aurora takes the opportunity to place her phone back on the nightstand and get comfortable under the covers.

“Have you been awake all this time?” Maddie asks. “We thought you were sleeping.”

“I just said I just woke up.” Aurora turns on her side and smashes her hands between her cheek and the pillow, catching the moment her friend freezes for a second while pulling her dress over her head.

“Okay?” Maddie murmurs, fully removing the item and throwing it into the wardrobe. “My bad. Did we wake you or something?”

Aurora sighs. She watches as Maddie puts a t-shirt and some shorts on, but she’s not really paying any attention to her movements. Her mind is foggy, thinking about how caught up in the whole kissing thing situation she was that she didn’t lose sleep over Zack never returning her texts. Or that her mind wasn’t flooded by Noah’s thoughts until she saw a picture of him.

“Hey,” Maddie calls, and Aurora blinks. She’s already facing the bed, hands loose by her sides while a frown takes over her expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head and looks away, settling her sight on the darkness out the window. “Sorry. ‘M just tired.”

“You sure?”

No.

“Mhm.” She closes her eyes and nods. “Just need to fall asleep again.”

“Okay… Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Mads.”

Aurora hears the soft click when her best friend shuts the door, and also her light steps as she walks around the room. She then feels the moment Maddie pulls the blanket from her side of the bed, and also when she gets under the covers and makes herself comfortable with a sigh.

There’s a beat of silence, in which Aurora shuffles and turns her body around to face the wall. Maddie moves as well, and it’s easy to tell they’re both laying back to back now. Aurora feels it.

She also somehow feels the water outside. The darkness. The birds flying above and around. She feels when her best friend drifts into unconsciousness, when her breathing changes, and when her body gets heavier on the mattress. She feels time going by, although she can’t tell if it’s only seconds or also minutes that are flying past her.

“Do you know what you want?” Harry’s voice echoes inside her brain, and images of them laying on that mat take over the darkness in front of her. His pinky around hers, the way he looks at her, his skin underneath her foot when she moves it up and down. “I think about this a lot, y'know? About you.” His confession puts a smile on her face, and it makes her heart skip a couple beats. She wants to kiss him, and she knows he wants to kiss her, too. So she waits for it to happen. And she waits for him to do it. And she waits. And she waits.

Why isn’t he trying to kiss her?

What is he waiting for?

Something is off, and she isn’t so sure anymore.

Was she wrong all along?

“I want you to make a move,” her voice pathetically begs while Harry laughs, and Aurora’s body jolts in bed. Eyes flying open while her muscles tense up and relax all at once.

I want you to make a move.

Is that what she actually said to him?

Her heart beats heavily, and her belly stirs uncomfortably. She wiggles her feet and rearranges her arms and legs, adjusting her sight until the empty wall becomes clear in front of her.

When she shifts her eyes around, she notices there’s no brightness under the door anymore, meaning all lights are off and everyone finally went to bed. And that she missed when it happened.

“I want you to make a move,” flashes again inside her mind, and blood rushes through her cheeks.

Shaking her head, Aurora grinds her teeth and stretches her arm, reaching for her phone one more time.

The concept of time feels even fuzzier now, so she doesn’t distract herself like she did before — Noah smiles at her, she misses him, and it’s 4:15.

Aurora sighs. Without too much thinking, determination guides her body off from bed, blindly searches for her flip flops, and takes her straight to the door.

Upstairs, everything’s quiet.

Quiet, empty, and dull.

It isn’t pitch black, though, allowing Aurora to confidently move from one common area to the other as she makes her way to the kitchen.

All she wants is a glass of water, but she knows the galley is considered exclusive for the crew, so a quick apology and explanation rests on the tip of her tongue as she slides the door open as discreetly as she can. Just in case.

Once inside, dim lights cover one side of the ceiling, turning the painfully white kitchen into washed-out yellow. She shuts the brown sliding door again and crosses the small passage-way, walking past the freezers and fridges, then around the island counter.

She follows her instincts while rummaging for a glass, half-smiling to herself when she finds one and then placing it on the counter so she can look for a bottle of water next.

Back around the unbelievably clean island, the French door refrigerators are just as fancy as everything else in that yacht. Aurora takes a moment to gawk at the perfectly organized shelves inside, but it only lasts a second or two until coldness crawls through her hands and arms.

It ends up being an awful reminder of how little she’s wearing right now, and that she should hurry out of there before the crew shows up for breakfast. So she grabs the labeled bottle of water and closes the fridge, then steps towards her glass and watches as she fills it up to the top.

“I want you to make a move,” her mind repeats for the tenth time, and Aurora sighs.

It’s hard to tell why those words are bothering so much, or why they’re hunting her in the first place. She was happy when she woke up, so why can’t she get rid of the uneasiness that’s settling in her chest?

Shaking her head, she places the bottle back on the counter a little harsher than she should, wincing when the sound echoes between the walls. She brings the glass to her lips, then, drinking her water whilst looking out through the window and indulging her messy thoughts.

Because kissing Harry felt right in the moment, it felt right when he chased her down the stairs for a quick goodbye, and it felt right when she snuggled her cheek against her pillow. And yet, the more she thinks about it now, the more she’s questioning the whole thing. As if there was something off about it. As if her perceptions and memories from that moment weren’t safe enough to trust.

Despite the turmoil inside her brain, the galley is so peaceful that the moment a door slides open everything seems to tremble around her.

And Aurora jumps.

And gasps.

She places the half empty glass on the counter and turns around, one hand on her chest whilst she gapes at the passage-way with widened eyes and parted lips.

Her entire body system stops while she waits, and then Harry walks into view, looks at her, and freezes on the spot.

“Heyyy,” he slowly and huskily drags out, his entire face lighting up as he takes one hand up to rub his eye. “You’re up.”

“Jesus.” Aurora closes her eyes and places one hand spread open on the counter, leaning her weight on it while she exhales heavily through her mouth. Underneath her other palm, the one that’s still on her chest, she feels her heart come back to life. Twice as fast. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Oops.” He laughs, shortly and calmly. “Sorry, love.”

Rough and raspy, the sounds echo from the back of his throat and speak directly to her brain, sending a shiver all the way down her spine and waking up all the butterflies.

She’s never heard his morning voice before. Not like that, at least. Not when it acts like a magnet and pops her eyes back open, then draws all of her attention straight to him.

“Damn, I’m knackered,” he says, stretching his arms over his head and then yawning loudly.

Aurora silently watches him.

Unlike her, Harry’s clearly barely awake, his puffy cheeks and chaotic hair inevitably giving him away.

Also unlike her, Harry’s properly covered from neck to toe, a black sweatshirt and some black sweatpants making him look the coziest she’s ever seen.

The idea of wrapping herself inside his arms isn’t subtle when it crosses her mind, even leaving behind a vivid picture of what the embrace could look like before Aurora kicks it out the door.

“That was probably one of the worst sleeps of my life,” he adds next, dropping his arms down and slightly shaking his head. When he flutters his eyelashes to glance at her, a soft smirk grows on his lips, and he tilts his head to the side. “Auri?”

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

She blinks and nods.

“Yes. Sorry.” Stepping away from the counter, she waves her hands up and down to remove the tension away from her. “You were saying?”

Harry chuckles and steps forward, then makes his way around the island and closer to her. “What’s on your mind? Why are you looking at me like—”

He freezes on the spot once again, however now with his eyes wide open and stuck on her silhouette.

Aurora doesn’t need to look down to figure out what he’s staring at. She feels the burn on her chest, and then on her thighs. She also feels his green irises wandering attentively, moving in such a bold and straightforward way that it would be impossible for her to doubt he’s checking her out.

“Harry…” she calls him out, but she also chuckles, sounding just as nervous as she feels. “You were saying what, exactly, about me looking at you?”

“Uh, sorry.” He shuts his eyes and clears his throat, then firmly shakes his head side to side. As if getting rid of his thoughts. “Shit. Yeah. Sorry. That’s… Yeah. My bad. Sorry.”

Aurora laughs again, turns to her glass of water and shrugs.

“‘S fine,” she says, bringing the cup to her lips and drinking what’s left in it. To be honest, she knows her navy silk pajamas expose all of her cleavage and just barely cover her legs, so it’s not really a surprise that her tiny outfit didn’t go unnoticed by him.

Besides, she isn’t exactly bothered by it. It’s nice to see she can still get such a genuine reaction out of someone—it’s been a long time since anyone has made her feel wanted and desired.

And probably just as long since she’s felt confident enough to believe she could be wanted and desired.

“Where did you get that glass?” Harry asks, suddenly closer. Too much closer. “Need some water, too.”

She puts the glass down and turns her head to the side, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Want this one?”

“Yeah, can be.” He nods. “If you’re done with it.”

She shrugs one shoulder and focuses back on the bottle of water, refilling the cup for him.

Their whole interaction it’s too formal. Kind of mechanical. And weird. Aurora can’t decide if there’s too much going on, if there’s absolutely nothing going on, or if what’s going on should be enough.

“There you go.” She turns slightly to the side and stretches her arm, offering him the cold drink. Before he can grab it, though, she pulls it back to her chest and frowns. “Actually, I put my mouth here, so maybe you just wanted a clean one? In that case they—”

“I’ll take this one, thanks.” Harry laughs, getting close enough to grab the glass from her hand. “You put your mouth on my mouth, too, anyway.”

Aurora gasps, but her lips curve into a smile and laughter quickly buzzes out of her chest. “Harry!”

Harry laughs, too.

“Just saying! In case you forgot about it.”

She rolls her eyes, the playful tone in her voice matching her wrinkled eyes and the big smile on her face. “What a smooth way to remind me, then.”

“Trust me,” he says with a shrug, then looks at the glass in his hand and smirks, almost as if sharing an inside joke with himself, “it could’ve been worse.”

Out of words, Aurora leans her hip against the counter and crosses her arms, watching him tilt his head back and drink the water down.

The glass almost disappears behind his fingers, and the scruff on his neck looks just as messy as his curly hair. Underneath, his throat moves heavily, the muscles popping out with each gulp and his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

Aurora drifts her eyes to the fridges, noticing a new and erratic beat inside her chest. It’s not like she forgot how attracted to him she felt last night, or even during the day, but she definitely didn’t know this is how she’d feel when she saw him again. How easy it would be for her to want him again. How quickly she would crave for more of what they had.

I want you to make a move.

She bites her bottom lip and looks down, closing her hand onto a fist only to entertain her brain with something else. Something that doesn’t involve self embarrassment and silly thoughts.

“Hey,” Harry calls, followed by the clicking of the glass against the countertop. “Are you going back to bed now?”

Aurora shrugs, then tilts her chin up to meet his stare once again. “I mean, I was planning to, but…”

He curves his lips up, a genuine smile quickly growing on him.

“Same,” he says. And then, “Can I show you something, then?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Ok, great. I just need a minute to wash my face and all that, yeah? I’ll be back tho. I promise. Wait for me?”

“Sure.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she chuckles.

“Ok. Yeah. Thanks. One minute, I swear.”

“Okay,” Aurora laughs.

And Harry nods. And turns around, and glances at her over his shoulder, and nods again. Ok, he murmurs. One minute.

And then he walks away.

“One minute!” he whisper-yells, right before he disappears through the door.

It takes him way longer than a minute to come back — of course it does — but Aurora doesn’t mind the wait. She doesn’t want to be caught hanging in the galley by any crew members, though, so she takes it as an opportunity to step into the living-dining room area and snoop around a little.

There’s not much to do, but at least she distracts her mind with minor thoughts, like the fact that all lights are off and all windows are closed, or that everything’s so quiet that she can hear the waves crashing against the hull. Or Harry’s feet when he climbs up the steps.

She goes back through the door, then, meeting him halfway and saving him an unneeded walk to the kitchen.

“Hey,” he whispers and smiles. “Thanks for waiting.”

“Of course,” she whispers back.

He’s short-winded, as if he ran to get there, but he also looks refreshed and determined, stretching his arm and offering his hand for her to hold.

“C’mon then,” he adds in another whisper, “let’s go upstairs.”

As she links fingers with him and follows him outside, she mentally notices a pillow under his armpit and a blanket on his other hand. For some reason, the simple gesture brings a smile to her face, but she’s good at looking the other way and keeping it to herself.

He guides them kind of calmly, then, but also slightly rushed. He is polite enough to say ladies first and let her walk up the stairs in front of him, but then also cheeky enough to stay behind and unashamedly watch her as she moves all by herself.

The thing is, though, that Aurora only catches him when she’s already a few steps ahead and absently glances over her shoulder. He’s practically drooling and doesn’t even notice she’s looking at him, which only makes the whole thing worse — or maybe better.

“Harry!” She mouths with a gasp, mindful of being quiet and not waking anyone up, but also unable to stop her laughter from coming out of her mouth. “Stop staring!”

He blinks a couple times and shakes his head, then immediately climbs two steps at a time.

“Oops,” he says under his breath, catching up with her and smirking sheepishly.

He seems the least regretful or ashamed for his actions, but she’s not exactly bothered by it, so she doesn’t hide the smile from him. Or how amused she is. She simply rolls her eyes and chuckles a bit more, facing forward and going up the rest of the way.

She only stops again when they finally get to the sun deck, knowing it’s the highest part of the yacht and therefore they can’t really go more ‘upstairs’ than that.

There are no walls or roof shielding them from the weather, so she’s instantly met by a breeze from all sides, causing her body to tense up and forcing her to take her hands up to hold her hair away from her face. Still, Aurora takes a deep breath in and bites her lip, filling her lungs with ocean air and her ears with crashing and loud waves.

That deck looks just as dark as all the others — if not even more. And yet, somehow, it also feels the brightest she’s seen since she woke up.

Most lights are completely off, except for the required ones, but half of the moon is up in the sky, casting the way. It allows her to see the shadows of the table and chairs where they spent half of the day before (the only covered area), and far behind, on the opposite side, the barstools with perfect view to the back of the boat.

“Was talking to Niall about this place last night,” Harry says, stopping so close behind her that she can feel the warmth of his clothes. He keeps his voice as quiet and soft as before, matching the delicacy in which he places his free hand on her bicep as he speaks again. “Told him he should bring Megan up here to watch the stars.”

Aurora pulls her lips into a thin-smile and nods, still needing another minute to assess the space.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind her silence, nor her astonishment, simply shortening the distance and pressing his chest to her back while respecting her needed time.

That is, for a moment or two, until she shivers.

“Ok,” he chuckles with a squeeze of her arm, then slides his palm down and easily finds his way to her hand, “let’s move now.”

He walks past her, using their intertwined fingers to guide them as he steps to their right, across from where she’s been staring at.

Next to the stairs, it’s the jacuzzi — the same one she saw the day before and freaked out about. She remembers seeing it, but she definitely doesn’t remember noticing there was also a large, wide sunbed right behind it.

Which there is, obviously, since it’s the only thing she can see once they walk around the hot tub.

“I brought you a blanket,” Harry says, “but if you want I can get you a jacket. Or you can wear my hoodie… I don’t mind. I mean, I wore this to sleep and I’m not wearing anything underneath, so I don’t know how you’d feel about that.”

He chuckles, but Aurora is only paying half-attention to what he says. She’s distracted by how huge the white leather cushions are, how they seem to sparkle under the moonlight, and how much space they take. They’re presented as three sets, as if individual loungers were put together, but in reality it ends up being one big and comfortable daybed.

“We can also go back inside if you want,” Harry speaks again, however this time the louder tone of his voice brings her to look back at him. “I’m not—I don’t want you to feel cold, so that’s totally—”

“It looks great,” Aurora offers, squeezing her fingers around his hold. “That’s why I’m speechless, actually.”

Harry brushes his thumb on the back of her hand and smiles, not even once removing the stare from her eyes as he speaks again. “In that case… How do you feel about watching the sunrise from up here?”

Excitement bubbles from her belly to her chest, and to her throat. Suddenly, it’s written all over her face—in her smile, her widened eyes, and her parted lips.

“Oh my God, yes! I’d love that!”

“Yeah?” Harry mimics her reaction, taking their hands to his mouth and kissing her knuckles. “Let’s get you warm then. C’mon.”

Aurora blinks and nods, murmuring a soft “okay” even though he’s already dropped her hand and turned away from her. She watches him place one knee on the edge of the sunbed, drop the pillow and the blanket, then quickly crawl to the middle cushion and take a seat.

“Ok,” he murmurs, taking off his worn-out shoes and tossing them next to her. “Almost there…”

She smiles to herself, entertained by how endearing he looks. By how endearing he is. How he scooches backwards to make sure he’s sitting fully against the backrest, how he coughs into his fist as he puts the pillow behind his shoulders, and how he spreads his legs open and bends them by the knees before finally looking at her again.

“C’mon now,” he murmurs, patting his hand on the spot between his thighs. “Sit with me.”

For a moment, and for as short as that moment is, Aurora considers playing hard to get. She considers making a joke about his demanding tone, or even about how acquainted with the whole scene he seems to be.

And yet when she thinks about it again, she can’t find a single reason why she would do that. She’s too tired to pretend she doesn’t care, doesn’t want, or doesn’t mind — if Harry’s offering, and if she’s feeling it, then wouldn’t she?

So in the end, she simply sits down and takes off her flip flops, then skitters backwards with the help of her own hands. Legs stretched out in front of her while she pushes and pushes herself.

Harry meets her halfway, his hands finding her waist and guiding her until her back touches his chest.

“There we go,” he says, pulling the blanket and throwing it over their bodies.

And just like that, easy like that, they’re molding and curling around each other.

Harry makes sure their legs are properly covered, then leans on his pillow and waits for her to drop her weight on him. When she does it, and as she crosses her arms on her stomach and waits for Harry to do the same—as she waits for him to hug her and hold her close against him—he busies himself pulling the rest of the fabric up to her shoulders. And then he sighs, wraps his arms around her midsection, and nuzzles into her neck. Humming while his curls tickle her skin.

His body relaxes underneath her, and she finds herself mimicking him. Letting all the air out of her body, loosening up all of her muscles, and going numb against his chest.

Comfortable. Warm. Satisfied.

Relieved.

In front of her, under the handrail, the glass is so transparent that it’s almost nonexistent. Darkness is out there, all around them, but not to the point where she can’t distinguish the horizon. The moon, even though distant to her right, works everywhere, highlighting a few clouds and also reflecting its beauty on the water.

To that same direction, it appears to be nothing but ocean, and as far as she can see the same goes to what’s in front of her.

On the other hand, above her, wherever she looks, stars are still easy to spot, and to her left the coastline is all lightened up. Blurry, small, and far away, but shining gold still. A reminder of where they are, but also a reminder that, despite how it might feel, they are not alone right now.

The whole experience brings a weird feeling to her chest.

The view, Harry’s presence, the sounds coming from the water…

It is just… Weird. Somehow also scary, but mostly — and oddly — comforting and peaceful. Hopeful. It makes it easy to forget about the world that’s waiting for her, about all the problems and all the pain. It makes it easier to pretend she doesn’t have to go back to London and keep looking for a job, or that she doesn’t need to worry about paying her own bills.

It makes it easier to pretend she isn’t trying to start a new life. A new life with Noah, but also a new life completely by herself. A life of her own. A life where Zack is only there because he’s the father of her son, and not because she can’t make it without his help.

In the end, it makes it easier to believe that she’ll get through it. That things will get better. And that she will be okay.

Which, truth be told, is the scariest feeling she’s ever had in life.

And the hardest to embrace.

“I wonder which one is Saturn,” Harry murmurs, bringing her out of her inner thoughts. “Or what constellations we’re seeing right now.”

She licks her lips and drifts her eyes above them, then to their sides.

The way she scans the sky is more attentive this time, not randomly taking in whatever’s out there, but focusing on finding specific information just for him.

The easiest to spot are always Saturn and Venus, but since only one of those can be found right now, she doesn’t think twice before resting her chin on her own shoulder and pulling one arm out from under the blanket.

“See the moon?” she asks, raising her finger to the sky and pointing to the three-quarter-white-circle that shines distantly on the horizon.

Harry turns his head, too, then presses his lips on her hair and murmurs, “Yeah?”

“Well, that brightest spot next to the moon is Saturn.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Mhmm…” She lowers her arm, but doesn’t bother hiding it under the blanket. “The Aquarius and Capricorn constellations are there, too, but we can’t properly see them right now.”

“That’s so cool…” he mumbles, seemingly too distracted by the new information he received. “What else? Do you know any other?”

She faces forward, feeling Harry follow her lead and remove his lips from her hair, then rest his cheek on the side of her head.

“Okay,” she says, once again lifting her arm and pointing it to the sky. “See that red spot around here?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s Mars.”

“Shut up!” He tightens his arms around her, and a soft chuckle leaves his chest.

Aurora chuckles, too, then moves her arm an inch down and to the side.

“And see this other star shining next to it?” she asks.

“The brightest one?”

“Yeah… That’s actually Jupiter.”

“Damn…”

“And I know the Pisces constellation is somewhere around there,” she says, pointing up and down next to the two spots she just referred to. “But most of the time I can’t tell exactly where… Then… Hmm… Well, I think that’s it. That’s all I— No! Wait. Actually, lemme just…”

She turns her head from one side to the other, and when she knows she’s looking at the wrong place, she leans forward and twists her upper body, trying to see behind them, too.

“Nuh-uh,” Harry groans, pulling her back to his chest. “No leaving.”

She crashes against him with a smile, settling into her spot and letting him cover her body again. Including both of her arms.

“But I can’t spot the bears from here… I think they’re back there…”

“The bears?”

“Yeah, y’know, Ursa Minor and Ursa Major.”

“I actually don’t know about those.” He chuckles. “And I also had no idea you knew about any of this.”

Aurora rolls her eyes, but her lips curl into a smile anyway. She cozies up against his chest, settling her arms on top of his and tilting her head slightly to the side.

“It’s not a big deal.” She shrugs. “I’ve just shown you, like, three planets. That’s nothing.”

“Ok, then show me more.”

“I don’t know any others.” She laughs, and from the corner of her eyes she can tell he’s smiling along with her. “I mean, there are a few that we can only spot during winter, and others that we can’t spot now unless we walk to the other side.”

“Hmmm… Well, I really don’t wanna move from here, so I’m happy with the ones I’ve learned.”

“Okay…”

“Unless you want to move, then we move.”

She wriggles her bum to scooch down a little and sighs, settling even more onto him. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Then we’re good.”

He places his chin on the top of her head, and Aurora faces forward with a smile on her face. Reconnecting with the ocean view and also with the sounds she apparently tunes off whenever they start talking.

Silence. Quietness.

Comfort.

“Y’know,” Harry eventually says, “now I’ll always think of you when I look at the stars.”

A beat of silence goes by, and then…

She laughs.

“Oh my God…” She stretches her spine and throws her head back, landing on his shoulder. “You’re sooo cheesy.”

“I know.” He tightens his arms around her waist, playfully squeezing her while turning his head to press his nose on her neck. “I am. And I don’t care.”

She shakes her head, still smiling and staring at the sky.

It’s like she can hear the happiness in his voice, and it blows her mind how easy he makes it seem. Or how contagious he is.

“Wanna know something else?” he asks.

“Hm?” Tilting her chin to the side, she rests the side of her face on his temple and closes her eyes. Focusing on the way he warms her skin as he stays hidden on her neck.

“I don’t think I’ve smiled this much in a really long time.”

“Really?” She raises her eyebrows, her lips never coming down from the upward curve they previously formed. “Well, a yacht on the Amalfi Coast can do that to you.”

“Actually… You are doing this to me.”

Silence settles around them. A heavy silence, but not an uncomfortable one. It gives time for his words to linger between them. Making her stomach flutter and her mouth break into this big and genuine smile.

“Damn.” She chuckles, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

“What?” he asks, lifting his face from her neck and kissing her cheek. Quick. Loud. And full of joy. “Gonna make fun of me again?”

She opens her eyes and lifts her head from his shoulder, holding onto his forearms as she turns to look at him.

“No, c’mon… ‘M not making fun of you,” she says, because she feels the need to explain. However… The playful smirk on his face indicates she doesn’t need to. He’s not mad. He’s not disappointed. He’s just teasing her back. Because he knows. He knows her, he gets her. And so, she sighs. “Okay, maybe I am a little…”

Harry laughs, his lips touching his dimples as he throws his head back and then looks at her again.

“But only,” she adds, a little bit louder so the smile on her own face doesn’t get in the way of her words, “because I think it’s really sweet and I don’t know how to react.”

“Hmm… C’mere,” he says, pulling her back into his chest and pressing his lips on her bare shoulder.

It’s a gentle kiss. Sweet, but calculated. Not too long, but also not too short. Just wet enough to linger on her skin when he pulls away, but also quickly to forget when it’s followed by another one, slightly to the side, and another one, even further to his right.

“You don’t—”

“Do you—”

They both speak at the same time, and they both also freeze at the same time, turning silence into giggles just a moment later.

“Sorry,” she says. “You were saying?”

“Nothing important. You go.”

“My thing wasn’t important either.”

“Wanna hear it anyway.”

“But—”

“Say it.”

“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and chuckles. “Fine. I was just about to ask if you want me to show you where Venus is.”

“Venus?”

“Yeah, the planet.”

“Oh, right,” he says, breathing hotly into her skin before he kisses her one last time and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Of course. Show me, please.”

“Okay, so… Remember Jupiter and Mars?” she stretches her arm in front of them, pointing to the sky. “They’re higher now, right? So if you look closer to the horizon,” — she lowers her arm, trying her best to give short and objective explanations — “you can spot another bright star.”

“Mhmm… And that’s Venus?”

“Yep.” She nods, then drops her arm and grabs the blanket, covering herself from the early morning breeze. “That’s Venus.”

“Amazing. And she’s just showing up now? When it’s about to be over?”

“Yeah…” Aurora smiles. “I always associate Venus with the sun, because we can only see it right before sunrise or right after sunset. Never like, in the middle of the night. And in the evening it’s the easiest to spot because it’s usually the first one to show up… Or the brightest.”

“That’s really cool… I had no idea. So we got Venus, Mars and Jupiter right in front of us, and to that side” —he shrugs his right shoulder, indicating what direction he’s talking about— “we got Saturn near the moon. Got that right?”

“Yep. Perfect.”

“Ha!” He smiles, sounding all proud of himself. “Tonight we gotta do this again. Wanna see if I can find them myself.”

Aurora smiles, too. “Okay. I’ll test you.”

“Deal.”

Her smile turns into a joyful beam, and as their happiness nests in silence, Aurora feels herself somehow melting into him. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. And even maybe mentally, if that’s possible.

She isn’t really sure of what’s going on — and she can’t really explain it when she doesn’t understand it herself. What she knows, though, it’s that it’s nice to share that moment with him. And that she’s happy to be there with him. She knows that it’s nice to be wrapped inside his arms while the sky turns into lighter shades of blue and leaves its heavy darkness fully behind. That it feels good when he places his chin on her shoulder and watches how a new day begins right in front of them—how things change right in front of them.

Because things are always changing and things will always change.

Although…

Even when constellations officially start to fade off, there’s a reminder of their existence still flickering from time to time. Letting her know they’re still there, and that they can still be found. That just because they’re about to stand behind and let others shine, it doesn’t mean they won’t get another chance to try again. To show up again. To be themselves again.

And, yeah, maybe she’s taking it too far, maybe she’s reading too much into it. But Harry’s consideration and enthusiasm bring comfort to her heart, and as the horizon burns with flames and is draped with layers of honey, words fly out of her mouth before she can at least think about them first.

“This is actually something Noah and I do together pretty often… Watching the sky.”

“Yeah? He likes it?”

“He does, yeah… He never showed any interest, but one time he woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and he just wouldn’t stop crying… So I took him to the living room and sat with him next to the window… I mean, I was just trying to distract him, y’know? So I started pointing out the ones I knew and telling stories about them.”

“What kind of stories?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs and chuckles, aware of the lies that she would probably have to explain as soon as he got older. “I was just trying to calm him down, so I was improvising… Told him how there are two bears protecting the other constellations, about this dog that’s their best friend and helps them sometimes, and that when we see the brightest stars twinkling it’s because they’re watching out for us, too… I don’t know. Silly things like that. I’m not really creative so…”

“Those are not silly things,” Harry says, and she can feel his jaw move on her shoulder with every word he lets out of his mouth. “I mean, at least I don’t think so. I remember when my grandma died and I was struggling to understand the concept of not seeing her ever again, and then my mum told me Nana had turned into a star, so she would always watch out for me and that I could talk to her every night. And that was nice.”

Aurora feels the way he shrugs behind her, but it feels almost forced. As if he’s just trying to prove he doesn’t think too much of his own vulnerable words.

And yet, that doesn’t stop him from talking again and sharing even more with her.

“Sometimes I would look at the sky and pretend I was talking to her. Say hello, or goodnight, or things like that. Of course later I figured out it wasn’t real and I stopped, but deep down it kinda stuck with me, y’know? So now when I look up and see the stars, I like to… Y’know. Just think that my mum is up there, too. Y’know. Still around. Watching out for me. Hanging out with Nana. Stuff like that.”

Aurora bites her lip, taking in everything he just said. Aware of how hard it must’ve been for him to say that, and how even his voice and the words he used carried along that uneasiness, sadness and longing that comes with losing someone we love.

She doesn’t want to make the silence too long or turn it awkward, though, so she doesn’t search for the perfect thing to say, she just slides her hands to his wrists and tries her best to twist her upper body and look at him, then says whatever it’s there for her to say.

“That’s so beautiful.”

Harry smiles, and it should seem blurry with how close he is, but he actually looks as clear as ever. As pure and vulnerable as ever.

“I know,” he says. He turns his hands over and meets her palms, easily linking their fingers together. “And it’s not different from what you did when telling those stories to Noah… He’ll always feel protected now, he’ll have something to hold on to, even if he doesn’t say it out loud… And that’s because of you.”

Aurora bites the flesh inside of her cheek and breathes in, feeling the burning in her throat instantly watering her eyes.

“Okay,” she blurts out and faces forward. “We should stop now, because I’m about to start crying.”

Harry chuckles, but it’s so soft and tender that it feels like he’s just hugging her. “Sorry, love.”

Shaking her head, she clears her throat and brushes her thumbs up and down the back of his hands. “It means a lot… Everything you said. So thank you.”

“Of course.” He squeezes her.

“I mean,” she finds herself speaking again, “deep down I know it’s not silly and that he really loved that, because now whenever the sky’s clear he gets all excited for us to find them again.”

“And does he spot them easily?”

“Well…” Aurora smiles. “The bears are supposed to be Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, so sometimes… If they’re hard to spot and he’s really confident he saw them somewhere else, I’ll pretend he’s right. But the others, y’know, like the planets I showed you today, he’s usually pretty good at finding them, yeah.”

“Hmm… What a smart little guy.”

Her face breaks with happiness and pride, and for once she doesn’t even try to hide it.

Truth be told, Aurora knows she can’t take credit for Noah’s entire DNA, so there’s no point to deny that when it comes to intelligence, she hopes Zack’s genes will play a bigger role than hers. Which seems to be the case so far, because he’s constantly blowing up her mind with—

“Only two left now,” Harry murmurs. “Venus and…”

Aurora looks around, taking in how the setting they’re in slowly turns into strawberry ice cream, and how thin gray clouds surf in thin waves made of yellow lemon rinds. It reflects all around them — from the sky to the water, and even the air they’re breathing in. Suddenly lighter. Fresher. Saltier.

“What’s the other one?”

“Jupiter,” she whispers.

“Jupiter.” Harry nods. “Right.”

It is so magical that it takes her breath away, and the fact that the last two planets in the sky are barely hanging on a string doesn’t seem so bad. Not if it means it will lead them to witness something so extraordinary like this.

“Can’t believe everyone else’s missing this,” she murmurs.

“I know…” he says. “Hands down the most beautiful sunrise I’ve ever seen.”

Aurora nods, and a moment of silence goes by.

Then Harry speaks again.

“I’m happy it’s just the two of us, tho,” he says, his voice so low that Aurora isn’t even sure she is supposed to hear him.

But she does, of course.

She hears him, and she understands him. Because had their friends been there with them, things would be different. They probably wouldn’t even be sitting together, so they also wouldn’t be holding each other, or linking fingers, or whispering into each other’s ears.

In the end, she would’ve shared the moment with everyone, but she wouldn’t have shared it with him.

Much likely how the entire day is going to go by once they all wake up.

Which, now that she thinks about it, will slightly suck.

Before she can put together the words to agree with him, though, the sun finally peeks out, and the horizon turns into lava.

Dark and intense as a tangerine, it quickly takes over all the other colors—the timid purple here and there, the pink, the yellow.

It’s just as beautiful as before, albeit a little bit different. Because from now on, she knows it’ll be quick. She knows even blinking could mean missing something, and she knows it won’t take long for everything to go back to normal. For the magic to end. For things to be over.

And perhaps Harry’s line of thinking is traveling the same route, because he leans in and presses his lips on her shoulder, sighing loudly to her skin before he moves to the side and kisses her again.

And again.

Aurora bites her lip and breathes in slowly, filling her stomach with air before letting it all empty again.

He’s good at this. He’s good at teasing her and making it happen, both at the same time. He’s good, and Aurora likes that—she wants that. So she closes her eyes and tilts her head to the side, giving him more access. Giving him more room, and more skin. More to kiss, and more to taste.

Harry curls his lips up as he takes them further up, spreading more distracting kisses all the way through her neck. Following a sweet, gentle path that he makes sure to equally enjoy in every step of the way, up until the corner of her jaw.

“Is this ok?” he murmurs, low and husky, then takes her earlobe inside his mouth.

Shit.

Aurora’s body tenses all at once, and then a shiver runs down her spine.

He doesn’t wait for an answer before kissing her skin again, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t need one—there’s absolutely no reason for him to believe it isn’t okay to make her melt and sigh against him. Just like there’s absolutely no reason for her to do anything that would put a stop to what he’s doing right now.

And yet, it’s like her body reacts on its own, because next thing she knows she’s already turning her head to the side and searching for him.

Harry meets her with his chin at first, bumping it into her cheek before he tilts his head down and slides his nose all the way to her mouth.

As soon as they’re within reach, their lips act like magnets, immediately curling and molding around each other.

Aurora breathes in, as if she’s been lacking all this time, and Harry breathes out, as if he’s been holding it in all along.

Slow, but undoubted.

Wholehearted.

He lets go of her fingers and brings his hand to her jaw, holding her in place while his other arm remains around her waist.

The way his forearm rests on her chest, almost sinking between her breasts, fires an alarm inside her brain, and Aurora shuts it down by bringing her own free hand to his wrist and keeping him there.

It’s uncomfortable to kiss him like this—with her head tilted back and to the side. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s also comforting. The best kind of comfort, actually. To have him so close, so awkward, so real. So willing to just be there with her.

It makes her belly flutter, and her hands itch.

It makes her crave for more.

So when he pulls away, and when the sound of their lips parting echoes on the empty highest deck, Aurora drops her hands and shifts between his legs, turning and leaning sideways against him.

That is all Harry needs to take the hint and move as well—to get rid of the blanket, then find her waist and pull her along as he shuffles to lay down.

“Here,” he says, rolling on his side and holding the pillow for her to use.

Smoothly and effortlessly.

Aurora lifts her head and makes herself comfortable, watching his pretty features as he holds his weight on one elbow and brings his free hand to pull her hair out of her face.

His gaze follows his own movements, keeping track of his hand as he puts her untamed waves behind her ear, and also as he brushes the back of his fingers down her neck and through the curve of her shoulder and extension of her arm.

He’s respectful, but also straightforward. Brushing her bicep while actually scanning her breasts, then settling his palm on a covered spot on her side while he keeps running his eyes past her tiny silky shorts and all the way through her exposed legs.

Suddenly, Aurora is very conscious of the way heat spreads through her veins, the way her heartbeat speeds up, and the way her belly quivers.

She’s nervous, she knows she is. She hasn’t thought about being with anyone other than her husband (well, ex-husband) for almost a decade now, so it’s only natural her instincts are shouting for her to squirm away or hide herself. Even though she more than definitely doesn’t want to squirm away or hide herself. Especially from him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry murmurs, almost to himself, lost in sight around her ankles.

Aurora swallows.

Shadows of orange meet his silhouette, and the light blue behind him contrasts nicely with the green of his eyes. He looks kind of angelic, to be honest, praising her when there’s nothing but affection and admiration on his face.

“You think so?” she asks, then brings both arms between their chests, her hands nestling around his sweatshirt.

Harry brushes his thumb up and down her waist and nods.

“Always thought so,” he says, as if it was the most natural thing to share. And then he wanders his gaze up through her body and settles his attention inside her eyes, and Aurora feels the intensity of his many emotions pouring into her.

It’s hypnotizing, and it knocks the air out of her lungs.

“Always the most beautiful girl in the room,” he adds.

Aurora’s lips curl around a tiny and timid smile, and Harry’s gaze shifts to them. He leans in, then, closing his eyes and sealing his words by softly and simply pressing his mouth to hers.

Her chest squeezes around her heart, so she closes her eyes and slides one arm up, pressing her palm to the back of his neck and encouraging him to stay there.

Which he does, at least for another second or two. And even when he pulls away—even when he creates the tiniest distance between their mouths and squeezes her waist so he can shift closer and lay half on top of her—he still remains close enough to let her know it’s not over yet. And he’s not going anywhere.

Aurora keeps her eyes shut and sighs, instinctively puckering when his mouth fully touches hers again. Careful. Polite. As though he’s introducing himself and letting his presence be known before he curls around her bottom lip and sucks her flesh into his mouth.

The quietest and softest whimper vibrates in Aurora’s throat, and Harry deepens his fingers around her waist.

With a hum, he tastes her like he’s been craving for it his entire life. Like it’s the most delicious flavor he’s ever found. Or like he’s hoping to take a snippet of her forever with him.

He takes his time. And enjoys himself. Only letting go of her lip to peck her mouth once and then going for it again.

Except now he sucks her flesh in and secures it between his teeth, then holds it in as he pulls away.

For a moment, it’s almost painful. But it also brings a fire to her chest, and then a new whine to the back of her throat.

And then it’s almost embarrassing, how he leaves her hanging as he groans and suddenly lets her go.

It takes Aurora a moment to realize nothing else is happening. That she’s just laying there with her eyes closed and mouth parted, and that he isn’t kissing her anymore.

So she licks her lips and blinks, swallowing as she finds him already staring at her.

Attentive.

Handsome.

Preoccupied.

Affectionate.

With a racing heart, she spreads one hand open on his chest and takes the other up on the back of his head. Moving as much as she can whilst her arms remain tucked between them.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, and although she doesn’t mean to whisper, apparently it’s all her voice can come up with right now.

Harry smiles.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head twice. “‘M just enjoying the view.”

Aurora rolls her eyes, but she also mimics his smile and turns her head, avoiding to look at him in case heat spreads through her cheeks.

“Hey,” he calls with another squeeze to her waist. “C’mere.”

He’s leaning in before she fully tilts her head back, meeting her mouth with a little more intent than he’s shown so far.

Aurora closes her eyes and feels him smashing their lips together only for a second before he loudly breaks them apart, and then smashes them again, and again, and again.

And again.

The cute, little and repetitive mwah, mwah, mwah echo in her mind, causing her to smile and, very quickly, inevitably break into a giggle.

Harry smiles at her reaction, then moves his playful tenderness to her chin — mwah — her cheek — mwah, mwah, mwah — her nose — mwah — and her other cheek.

Mwah.

“Harry!” She laughs, bringing both hands back to her chest and squirming away.

Mwah.

“Stop!”

Mwah, now closer to her beaming mouth, and then mwah, right on top of her parted lips and exposed teeth. Kissing not only her, but also her laughter and her happiness. Sharing it with her.

The gesture makes her chest feel lighter, and when he pulls away again, it compels her to lift her head and follow him. Stealing a new kiss of her own—one that’s even longer and even louder than all others before.

Mwahhhhh.

Harry smiles, and as Aurora drops her head back to the pillow and blinks to the bright and clean sky, he brings his hand up to the side of her neck and lowers his face to touch his forehead with hers.

It’s kind of adorable, really, how cozy and laid-back he looks. His eyelids are shut and his mouth is slightly parted, as if he’s taking a moment to recollect himself, but the emotion behind his actions is still present. Deepening on a dimple and drawing the clearest upward curve on his lips, or even coming out of his chest and warming up her face with short heavy breaths.

Then it is also kind of impressive, how he mixes all that with confidence and maturity. How manly he presents himself, even though he’s full of cheesy lines and teasing words. How strong and tough he proves to be, even though his behavior is mostly carried by vulnerability and tenderness. Or how deeply he makes her feel, even though he doesn’t seem to be trying so.

Kind of adorable, kind of impressive, but also kind of crazy, isn’t it? Almost kind of scary. How easy it is to be with him like this. How moments around him keep causing this friendly and familiar feeling inside her, and how much playfulness and fun he constantly brings to the table. And at the same time, how quickly he’s sparking so many emotions inside her body. How he’s reminding her about things she didn’t even notice she forgot about, and how he’s leading her to realize how neglected her own desires and needs have been all this time.

The up and down brush of his thumb on her throat is nothing but soft and innocent, and yet it keeps bringing a new level of heat to the blood rushing through her veins. The way he looks (with his tempting lips and scruffy growing facial hair), the way his body feels (pressing on her side while one of his legs rests placidly on top of hers), and even the way he’s dressed (clothed from up to toe with the most simple and plain set of sweats).

Everything about him is making her body itch.

Everything.

And, to be completely honest, Aurora doesn’t know what to do with that. Or how she’ll go the entire day without going insane because of that. How she’ll watch him laugh without being able to run her fingers through his hair, or how she’ll sit next to him without being able to nuzzle on his chest, or how she’ll talk to him without being able to kiss his mouth.

She licks her lips, then, running her eyes over his too close and blurry face.

It doesn’t even make sense to feel like this for a person she’s just met again.

She knows it’s probably because she hasn’t gotten any attention in a really long time and he’s suddenly there, willing to give it to her. Being nice to her. Making her laugh.

She knows it’s temporary, that as soon as they leave the yacht their paths will part again and she’ll realize how overdramatic she’s being right now.

Rationally, she knows.

But still, what is she supposed to do?

Is she supposed to ignore how she’s feeling?

Is she supposed to ignore how he is making her feel?

Well…

Maybe, yes.

Maybe it’s for the best if she offers they go back inside and meet again when everyone’s around.

Maybe that’s the smart, mature thing to do.

And yet…

It is not what she wants.

Is she supposed to do it anyway?

With a sigh, that’s mostly to shut the voices inside her head, she slides her hand back to his neck, then allows her fingers to get lost in between his curls.

Things are quiet around them — too quiet. Waves crash distantly downstairs, seabirds cry out hazily from time to time, and despite the fact that the sun is fully out and the sky has settled into the most gorgeous blue and the most vivid yellow, other voices apart from theirs have yet to be heard.

It’s encouraging, somehow. To be all alone and under such a paradisiac view.

Maybe that’s what prompts Aurora to move next, when she tilts her chin up and down and brushes the tip of her nose with his own. Once and twice.

It’s a silent call for attention, and also a call that he picks up immediately, blinking and holding her stare with a new set of emotions behind them.

“Can I tell you something?”

Aurora scratches the back of his head and nods. Their noses brush again.

“Of course.”

“I can’t feel my arm anymore,” he whispers.

Aurora’s mouth curls up, then soft laughter breaks from her chest.

Harry smiles as well, then they both shift and shuffle until he’s laying on her other side and holding his weight on his other elbow.

“Fuuuck,” he breathes out with a chuckle, waving his hand up and down while finding a spot on top of her thighs for his other leg. “Ten minutes and we’ll switch again.”

“Okay.”

Still smiling, Aurora throws one arm around his shoulders and angles her body towards him, albeit a little bit more intentionally than before. Her other hand rests between them, her own elbow tucked between her breasts while her fingers hold onto the neckline of his sweatshirt.

Nothing else is said between them, no plans or intentions are shared, and yet it’s like they’re perfectly in sync.

Their eyes meet, then their smiles fade off. A moment goes by, and the ocean fills their silence as Harry shifts his sight to her mouth, then gets interrupted by his own heavy exhale when she drags her tongue to lick her lips.

“I swear to God…” he murmurs, already lowering his face closer to hers.

He places his arm across her belly and molds his palm around her side, then she reaches up and kisses him. Or maybe he leans in and kisses her—it’s hard to tell, with both of their mouths already open and their tongues instantly searching for each other.

Eyes closed, Aurora twists her hand around his sweatshirt and hums. And Harry sneaks the arm that’s holding his weight underneath her neck and hums. And just like that, it’s like an unspoken hesitation instantly dissolves, or like their brains finally get rid of the restraints that were pulling the strings up until then, because, very quickly, it becomes very desperate. Very messy. Very needy. And very intense.

For both of them.

Their kiss is now a kiss that can be heard, felt, and seen. A kiss that doesn’t stop there. A kiss that crushes her tightly onto the sunbed and pulls urgently down his chest. A kiss that tangles her fingers around his hair. A kiss that tilts their heads to one side, and then to the other one. A kiss that’s loud, and wet, and over the top. And yet never enough.

A kiss that feels right.

Damn it feels right.

So, so right.

Like putting together matching pieces of a rare puzzle.

Maybe not the most gracious kiss she’s shared with someone, nor the most tactful to display in such a clear and open space, but certainly one that consumes her like no other. So much so that it echoes sweetly through a whine in the back of her throat, revealing how gone for it—for him—she already is.

Harry slows down, then. He sucks around her lip and brings his hand to her throat, barely holding there for a second before he slides his palm to her collarbone and then further down, covering where she’s beating fast and out of tempo for him.

“I’ve dreamed about this for so long,” he says around her lips, digging his nails on her skin and the heel of his palm on the swell of her breast. Almost as if he’s trying to catch her heart inside his very own hand. “About you… About us…”

He brushes the tip of his nose with hers and, just like that, kisses her once more. Not giving her one second to absorb or question his confession before he’s taking over her mouth all over again.

And Aurora has questions, lots of them, but she’s also distracted. So distracted. Because Harry isn’t holding anything back anymore. He’s hungry, vehement, and demanding. Ardent. He kisses her so loudly that it is all she can hear, and so deeply that it is all she can feel. And she likes it. All of it.

So, so much.

She likes how he knots the hand that’s underneath her head around her hair and holds her tight, and then how he forcefully presses his other palm to her body when he strokes it down, feeling and squeezing all the curves of her chest, belly, and waist.

She likes how he isn’t embarrassed to use his tongue and teeth, or to show how much of her he seems to want to devour. How he sometimes moves his kisses to her jaw, and to her neck, but then quickly comes back to her mouth. As if he couldn’t stay away.

She likes how he touches her leg. How he teases with the hem of her shorts. How he always, always goes back to her sides. As if digging his fingers into her flesh is his favorite thing to do. And then how he presses her down and yet pushes her up at the same time, as if he couldn’t decide who should be on top.

She likes how fast, short-winded, and never-ending it goes. How it feels. How none of them can’t seem to bring themselves to wrap it up.

It’s like the entire universe stops around her, but also like her very own personal world finally starts spinning again. Like his kiss is the single drop to cure a hundred years of thirst, but also like getting away from his lips would mean going through another hundred years of starvation.

Everything he does fits perfectly with everything she does. And everything she needs. The way he holds her, the way he licks her, the way he breathes into her—the way he breathes from her. The pace in which he moves, the angle in which he tilts his head, the eagerness in which he pulls apart and moves in again.

Everything — everything — is good.

And she really, really, really likes it.

All of it.

So much.

Oh God.

It’s just…

It’s been so long since anyone has made her feel like this.

So long since her body reacted on her own, since she didn’t feel the urge to reprehend her instincts or shut down her needs.

So, so long, that she isn’t even surprised when she snaps out of it. When she brings both arms around his neck and pulls him fully on top of her. Spreading her legs open so he lays in between them, then taking both hands to the back of his head and raking her fingers all over. Twisting them around his curls. Tugging him close. Trying to find a way to get more of it, to get more of him.

She whines, as if frustrated that she can’t merge their bodies together, and Harry hums. Low and husky. Deep in his throat.

He kisses her fervently, like he means it, like he needs it, meanwhile settling his weight down and adjusting their heights so his hips are pressed against hers.

That’s when his bulge pokes between her legs, and the softest moan escapes from Aurora’s throat.

The thin and tiny fabric of her shorts does close to nothing to cover her underwear, making it ridiculously easy for her to feel his shape through his sweatpants.

Full, firm, and hard.

Heavy between her legs.

It catches her by surprise, to be honest, and she’s got no idea how further she should go —or how further he is willing to go— but she doesn’t even try to fight the feeling that creeps in. Instead, she brings both legs to hook them around his waist and finds the strength to move up and down. Timidly, just barely. Feeling him stroke exactly where she’s also grown warm, wet and needy for him.

This time, they both moan.

Harry brings both hands to her waist and squeezes her, holding onto her as he bends his legs by the knees and spreads them open, placing them underneath her thighs. It gives him the freedom to own the task to himself. To kiss her while wandering his palms through her sides, and then through her arms, then finally to meet her hands and link their fingers together.

It allows him, next, to drop their connected touch onto the pillow, then cage her head between his elbows and rest his forehead on hers. Leaving all kissing behind, because now all of his energy seems to be focused on rolling his hips collectedly. As though he’s desperately trying to keep it together. To slow himself down. To make the feeling last.

“Damn,” he breathes around her mouth. “Auri…”

Eyes still closed, she links her ankles even higher around his waist and squeezes her fingers around his knuckles. “Yeah?”

Another roll of his hips, and a deeper groan from his throat.

“I just…” he tries, but it sounds like coming up with words it’s nothing but a struggle right now. Like he physically can’t. Like he needs a few moments to recollect himself. “‘M… Sorry.”

Aurora blinks.

Harry is already staring at her.

He lets go of one of her hands and brings his own to her face, cradling her cheek while catching his breath and trying to speak again.

“I’m… I’m pretty sure this is about to be the best… And also the most embarrassing thing… That’s ever… Happened to me.”

Aurora breathes in and out. Heavily.

The fact that he’s stopped moving doesn’t go unnoticed by her, but he’s still pressed between her legs. And she’s still feeling him. And she’s still craving him.

“Why’s that?” she asks.

“Because…” He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, then meets her stare again.

This time, Aurora finds a different mix of emotions hiding between the green of his irises. He looks softer now, maybe ashamed, and she can swear there’s even pain somewhere in there.

It causes her to bring her hand to his wrist and brush her thumb up and down. Soothing him.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head.

“Nothing’s wrong. Jesus. Absolutely nothing’s wrong.” He chuckles, nervously. “It’s just… It’s you… And I’m really trying here but… But I think I’ll be done in less than a minute.”

Oh.

Aurora blinks.

And then…

Oh…

The look on his face makes sense now.

The furrowed brows.

The frown around his mouth.

The struggle.

The sorrow.

It’s cute—at least she thinks it is. And even though she doesn’t know what the best way to react is, she figures she probably shouldn’t be curling her mouth up (which she is), nor laughing (which she is about to).

“Huh.” Harry raises his eyebrows and flinches his head back. “Really? You think that’s funny?”

“No! Of course not.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“‘M not laughing!”

She totally is.

Harry snorts.

“You totally are!”

Yup.

“I’m sorry!” She lifts her head to kiss him, but Harry dodges her. “C’mon!”

She tries again, and Harry slides his touch from her cheek to her neck, then pushes her back down onto the pillow.

All at once, Aurora swallows her laughter and gets rid of her smile, feeling his big and strong hand holding around her throat as she gulps down.

Shit.

At first, her brain recreates the scenario she’s become familiar with, and Aurora freezes. Waiting for the anger to come out. Waiting for the yelling to come out. Waiting for the voice telling her she’s ruined everything —again— and that she’s always finding a way to embarrass him.

But then Harry brushes his thumb up and down and rolls his hips once, and Aurora exhales through her nose. Shoulders dropping while her brain catches new details and reads the new context she’s in—noticing the patience on the slight tilt of his lips, the tenderness in which he holds her stare, and the carefulness in which he lets go of her throat and meets her hand. Then how he intertwines their fingers and drops them back to the pillow, above her head and next to his other hand.

His other hand, that’s still linked to hers.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his head hovering over hers. “Won’t do that again.”

Aurora shakes her head.

He does that a lot, doesn’t he? Reading her mind and knowing exactly what she wants. What she needs. Constantly embracing her, and constantly encouraging her. And never making her feel bad or guilty for the things she does. Or for the way she is.

“You didn’t scare me. It’s just… I just…”

He nods. “I know.”

Of course he does.

In years of knowing him, Harry’s been nothing but sweet, thoughtful, and gentle to her. A great friend, really. There’s just too much kindness inside his soul, and absolutely no reason for her to believe this scenario could ever be remotely similar to the one she’s been trapped in for so long.

On top of that, there’s also the fact that for the last twenty-four hours or so, Harry’s been also sharing with her a side of him she’d never seen before. Flirting with her. Kissing her. Touching her. Growing bolder and bolder. Making her feel things he hadn’t made her feel before.

Overwhelming her in a way she’s never experienced before.

Which is why she launches herself forward and kisses him, refusing to let the ghost of her ex-husband’s actions get in their way.

“I don’t mind if you last less than a minute,” she murmurs, then unhooks and hooks her ankles around him, tightening her legs a little bit more and pressing her heels on his lower back. “Just keep going.”

Harry stares at her for a second or two, then leans in and kisses her.

“Ok,” he murmurs, too, then squeezes her hands and resumes the rolling of his hips. “But just so y’know, I love when you smile. And when you laugh. And I’m glad my lack of strength to hold myself around you amuses you.”

He kisses her, again, and Aurora’s smile is lost against his mouth. All and any previous thoughts swiped away by his tongue. Or nibbled by his teeth. Or sucked by his lips.

The way he moves is too intentional now, sinking and rubbing across her center in a very steady and very meaningful way. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Her entire body grows hot, and the very air around them seems electrified. She can feel how filthier and filthier the situation gets—how the desire pools between her legs, and how easier he slides with each stroke he takes.

And she’s sure that if she can feel it as he grinds on her, he can feel it, too.

So she removes her hands from his and brings them to the back of his head, tugging his hair to force him to look at her. Hoping to let him know she’s all in right now. That he can do whatever he wants, at any speed he wants.

Harry holds her gaze, then brings one hand to her face and moves a little bit harsher. A little bit faster. Creating a new pace while they shelter into each other’s eyes and their breathings speed up.

“Shit,” Harry curses. And then he groans—a sound that is very similar to a moan, and that gets muffled by her own mouth as he kisses her.

She pushes him closer and kisses him, too. Searches for his tongue and nibbles his lips. Hums inside his mouth. Matches his urgency and encourages his recklessness.

And then she brings one hand to his shoulder, and sneaks it underneath his armpit, and follows an invisible path from the side of his chest, to his waist, to the waistline of his sweatpants.

Harry breaks the kiss apart and looks at her with what can only be described as shock in his eyes.

He says nothing, though, so Aurora shuffles her hips and places her hand between them. Covering him while he gives her room and also rolls his hips again.

Long, full, and thick.

Against her fingers and palm.

Harry falters and moans, instantly closing his eyes and thrusting his hips forward.

Aurora wraps her touch around him as best as she can, filling her hand and feeling him up. Wishing she could do way more than that.

Harry moans again, and again. Shortly and breathlessly. He furrows his brows and stops moving, then takes his own hand to cover hers and guide her.

“I— Shit—I’m gonna cum.”

Aurora nods and kisses him. And touches him. And feels him. And hears him. And absorbs him.

“Auri,” he suddenly calls, and it’s a little bit heavy, a little bit tense. Different than any other time she’s ever heard him call her name before. Sounds like a plea, sounds like a warning, sounds like affection and admiration. Sounds like he’s fighting his own release whilst climbing toward a desperate climax at the same time. Like he’s struggling to let go.

“That’s me,” she whispers, and a low rumble of pleasure bursts from his chest.

It makes her sweat on the back of her neck and adds a new tingling sensation deep in her belly, one she can only handle by squeezing him tighter and moving even faster. Harsher.

“C’mon,” she adds. “Do it.”

Harry closes his eyes and furrows his brows, then parts his lips and crashes onto her chest. Vulnerable and real, moved by involuntary and helpless spasms that have him moaning and making a mess out of his own clothes.

She feels it through the fabric. The relief. The release. The moment he shatters and shudders. And Aurora stays with him through it, in awe of how beautiful he is. And sounds. And feels. She hugs him with her free arm and kisses his temple, and his forehead. And when Harry tugs her hand and brings it up to his mouth, offering little kisses to her knuckles, she nuzzles her cheek into his curls and allows herself to smile.

Allows Harry to stay hidden on her neck and catch his breath, whilst holding onto her fingers and crushing her body.

Allows time to go by.

And allows her heart to settle into a new beat.

Blissful.

Pleased.

Even though she didn’t finish herself.

And it’s just…

Everything.

She truly forgot being with someone could feel like this. That it could be more than the absent thrusting from behind, staring at the wall, and waiting for it to be over. That it could have other endings, apart from hiding tears away so she wouldn’t get a roll of eyes or have to hear “here we go again”.

That it didn’t have to involve emptiness, coldness, or loneliness.

That it could happen with someone who actually wanted to be with her.

She forgot, because she had to forget. Because she was forced to. Because she had to let go of the version she was holding onto and move on. Stop hoping things would go back to what they were, accept the reality she was in, and get away from it.

Which was really hard at first, because their relationship didn’t used to be like that. Of course it didn’t—Aurora used to love Zack. She used to be in love with him. She used to think he was the one.

If she digs enough, she could probably still find a memory of him dropping his head back while finishing on her mouth, or him kissing her to muffle his crying moan with the last few thrusts. She could, if she tried, remember the way he made her sigh, curl her toes and breathe out his name in the dark. She could also recall moments of them falling asleep wrapped around each other, then waking up and repeating all over again.

She could.

But she can’t.

And she shouldn’t.

So she doesn’t.

Because those memories aren’t real anymore. None of them bring her happiness anymore, so she doesn’t dwell on them too much. Or at all. They don’t represent the man Zack turned out to be. Neither the kind of love she wished she could have received—or she thought she would receive.

“You smell so, so nice,” Harry murmurs, brushing his nose up and down her throat. “Like peaches.”

Aurora smiles and closes her eyes for a moment—a way to focus in the present and once again get rid of her line of thinking.

“Thanks,” she says. “It’s my body wash.”

Harry hums, then presses his lips where he’s been breathing from. A long, sweet, innocent kiss. One that lingers on her skin as he shuffles down and rearranges himself to lay his face on her chest, his temple right where her sternum begins, and his chin right where the swell of her breasts meet.

“I think the crew is up,” he murmurs, and spreads his arms open, resting one hand near her shoulder and bringing the other to fidget with the strap of her top. Right in front of him. “Pretty sure I just heard people talking.”

“Oh…”

Her chest tightens around her heart, and it’s hard not to pout at the idea of having to let go of him.

“Yeah…”

He wanders his hand on her side, down to her hips, then back up to her armpit. Without a word, he runs his fingertip across the hem of her top, scratching his nail on the surface of her breast.

Aurora breathes in and out, then slides her hands on his head, threading her fingers through his curls and scratching his scalp—if only to enjoy the little time that’s left.

“Do you wanna go downstairs?” she asks.

Harry shakes his head.

“We’re not done here yet.”

“We’re not?”

He shakes his head again, then slides his finger through the silky fabric, moving until he bumps on her nipple.

“It’s your turn now,” he says, drawing circles and watching the tip grow perky and rigid.

Aurora’s mouth twitches.

“That’s a nice offer, but… Would it be weird if I said no?”

Harry tenses—she feels it on top of her—and then he withdraws his hand from her chest. Like her skin is on fire and he just burnt himself.

“No, of course not. Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Oh my God,” Aurora snorts, then finds his hand and places it back on her breast. “Relax. I’m just really happy right now. And I feel good. So I just… I don’t know. I want to enjoy this a little bit longer, like this. With you. That’s all.”

She spreads his fingers open, encouraging him to fully touch her, then moves her hand back to the back of his hair—where she decided they belong now.

“Don’t stop touching me, tho. Feels good when you touch me.”

He brushes his thumb up and down, caressing the side of her boob.

And Aurora feels the way he smiles, the way his cheeks move and the way his body relaxes. The way he feels heavier. The way he melts on top of her.

But then, he says nothing.

And as time goes by, only the birds and the ocean create a soundtrack to cover their silence. Plates click somewhere, and at some point a couple of voices finally make it to her ears.

Still, none of them move.

And none of them say a word.

“Are you awake?” Aurora whispers.

Harry nods. Once.

“Mhm.”

She closes her eyes, and brushes the back of his head.

Feels his hair between her fingers.

Feels his breathing on her chest.

Feels the up and down of his stomach matching her own.

“You got so quiet…”

Harry hums.

“I know.”

“Why? What’s on your mind?”

“What you said… Felt good to hear. So I’m replaying it over and over again.”

Aurora smiles.

“What, exactly, are you replaying over and over?”

“I’m just really happy right now,” he says. “And, I want to enjoy this a little bit longer with you. Also, feels good when you touch me.”

Heat spreads through her cheeks, and she squeezes her eyes shut even tighter.

“God… So apparently your cheesiness is contagious, after all.”

Harry chuckles, his body shaking on top of hers.

“For what it’s worth, I’m really happy, too. Gross. But happy.”

Aurora snorts.

“Seriously, I need a shower.”

“I mean, you just came in your pants so… Yeah. I figure you do.”

He lifts his head, and Aurora tilts her chin down.

Their eyes meet.

“I did, huh? Because of you.”

She rolls her eyes.

Harry keeps going.

“You made me cum in my pants. In thirty seconds. Like a horny teenager.”

At that, she laughs.

Probably louder than she should, though, so she widens her eyes and brings her hand to cover her mouth.

Harry smirks.

“You made me cum, with that hand.”

“Oh my God,” she breathes out, laughing even more. “Really? This one?”

She takes her hand to his face and slides it from his forehead to his chin.

Harry holds her wrist, keeping her palm in front of his mouth.

“Mhm.” He kisses her, then speaks against her skin. “This beautiful, wonderful, ethereal hand.”

Aurora shakes her head, but she also brushes her thumb, caressing the top of his lips.

After a moment, she sighs and says, “I should get dressed. Don’t want people to see me like this.”

Harry furrows his brows. “What’s wrong with this?”

She shrugs, dropping her hand to her chest.

“Just… Kinda shows off a lot, doesn’t it?”

He looks down, scanning as much as he can without moving.

And then he looks up.

“Not enough, to be honest.”

She smiles, and rolls her eyes.

“Well, I won’t feel comfortable if any of the boys see me wearing this, so…”

Harry nods.

“So…” he repeats.

“We should probably go downstairs.”

“We should, yes.”

“You should take a shower.”

“And you should change your clothes.”

“Exactly.”

“Yep…”

They hold each other’s stares.

Firmly. Deeply.

Unabatingly.

Wholeheartedly.

“Just so you know,” he finally says, “this isn’t how I planned things to go between us.”

Aurora raises her brows.

“Really? You mean you didn’t plan on coming to Italy and convincing me to watch the sunrise, then getting a hand job from me, on a yacht, at six am?”

Harry’s mouth curls up. “Jesus. Not even in my wildest dreams I thought I would ever be this lucky.”

Aurora snorts, then playfully smacks her hand on his shoulder.

“Shut up.”

“No, I mean it, tho. I’m happy, but if we go back downstairs and for any reason this ends up being the last chance I get to be with you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

She flinches her chin back, eyebrows furrowing. “Why?”

“You didn’t finish.”

“Oh…” She nods. And then shrugs. “Well, it was my choice, tho. You offered.”

“No, I know, still… Kinda feel like an asshole.”

“Don’t. I really enjoyed it. Everything. I swear.”

Harry sighs, and a crease appears in the middle of his forehead. Without a word, he wanders his eyes around her face, as if checking for any indication of a different answer—which she knows he won’t find, because she means what she’s saying.

“Hey,” she says, taking both hands to the back of his neck. “I mean it, okay? Don’t worry about that. Besides, isn’t it more exciting like this? Knowing that you kind of owe me?”

He raises his eyebrows and moves back up, hovering her face with his.

“I kind of owe you, huh?”

Aurora nods.

“You do. So, y’know, we kind of have something to look forward to…”

“Right. That being, an orgasm.”

“Exactly.”

Harry smirks, then smiles, then chuckles.

He leans down and kisses her—one, two, three, four, five times. The same cute, little mwah, mwah, mwah from before echoing loudly inside her.

“God you’re amazing.”

Mwah.

“Can’t wait,”

—mwah—

“for the next”

—mwah—

“time.”

Mwah.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles au

86 notes · View notes

nickfowlerrr · 2 months

Text

know my name - 4

series masterlist

pairing: soft!dark bucky barnes x single mom!reader

warnings: 18+ only. angst. violence. winter soldier. allusion to murder. lmk if i’m missing something that should be included.

words: 3.1k

notes: 🫣 talk about a meet cute lol. hope you guys are getting the picture a little better with this addition. and thank you so much for reading and showing interest in this series, i have been loving seeing everyone’s responses and thoughts and i’m excited to write more! as always, comments and reblogs are welcomed and so appreciated. thank you for reading! 🩵

the way before:

The wind whips around you as you come up on City Hall, your coffee in one hand and your phone in the other.

It’s been twenty minutes now since you got here, sitting in your car impatiently waiting for Veronica to come out. You called her three times before you decided to actually get out and grab her yourself.

She had been so excited all week, counting down the days until her meeting with the soon to be congressman. She had spent so many weekends canvassing for his campaign around campus, when the votes came in you swore it was almost like she had won the seat herself, she was so happy.

When you first met her, freshman year of college, you were a little put off by her intense enthusiasm and her love for politics. She was a true activist if you’d ever met one. You sometimes think if it wasn’t for that journalism class you took together, you’d never have ended up being as close as you were.

You’re grateful though; she’s so easily become one of the best friends you’ve ever had.

Which is why you don’t mind spending your free Friday afternoon picking her up from downtown. Especially when she’s offered to pay for dinner after.

But she had said five o’clock sharp…Mr. Tedder had an important meeting right after her interview with him and she’d need to leave right away. You check your phone as you get to the door.

5:18.

You make a face as you read the time, not of annoyance, but of perturbance.

As soon as you pull the door open, you can tell.

Something’s not right here.

You can’t place it, but you can feel it. A little gnawing as you look around at the empty room. It’s quiet, disturbingly so.

Eerie.

You take a half step closer to the empty desk as your eyes continue to scan all around.

You’re gripping your phone as you feel your heart rate tick up and set your coffee on the desk.

What the hell is wrong?

You gulp and look down to the screen, your phone unlocking with your face. You go to your call log and hit Veronica’s contact again.

You put the phone to your ear as you idle in the lobby and your stomach drops as you hear the familiar ring of her phone sounding from just down the long hallway.

You follow the sound with your gaze and ever so slowly force yourself to step toward it.

One step, then another. You feel your heart racing as you get to the mouth of the hallway. You can see the doors of the council chambers just slightly open to the left, a bit further down the hall, but that’s not where the ring is coming from. You steady your accelerated breathing as best you can as you step further into the hall. Straight down is the heavy wooden door that leads to the mayor's office.

You scare yourself as the sound cuts off and her voicemail tone starts sounding in your ear.

You pull the phone away as you gape at the door.

What do you do?

Why do you feel so on edge?

Where the hell is everyone?

Slowly, you get closer.

Just as you pass the doors of the council chamber, you feel something press against your back.

Instantly, you’re frozen. Eyes wide as you're nudged forward. You hear a click.

You don’t have to turn to look to know there’s a gun on you.

“Walk.”

The voice is dark and gravelly, low and almost rough; as if it hadn’t been used in a while.

He doesn’t know what took him so long to approach you.

He saw you coming the second you stepped out of your car and headed to the building. He knows what he’s supposed to do. He knows his mission. And he knows there cannot be any loose ends.

But he lets you enter. And he lets you look around. He watches, and for reasons he doesn’t understand, he’s struck by you. You have him off his axis.

You haven’t even looked at him yet but he can’t take his eyes off of you.

He wants to let you go but clean up isn’t here yet. He’s… conflicted.

Hide, he thinks. If he can hide you, you won’t be a problem. Not for him and not for them.

You listen easily and he’s appreciative. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

He can hear your heartbeat as it pounds and the delicate sound of your stressed breathing as he walks you forward.

You were calling the girl he found in the mayor’s office. Her presence as unexpected as yours. But he had his mission. He knew what he had to do. And, unlike with you, he didn’t hesitate.

Most missions his orders aren’t so personal. He wouldn’t have to get so close. To put people aside from his target at risk. But this man had made his captors seethe. He wasn’t just in their way, he was on the verge of dismantling their local operations entirely and they could not have that. He angered the wrong men and so they wanted him to pay. In more ways than one.

This was an important mission and his orders were to be unseen. So anyone who had the misfortune of crossing the soldier’s path, they’re expendable, he hears in his mind, they’re all expendable. And you will do what needs to be done.

And he has.

As he nudged you on, the muzzle of his pistol still firm against your back, he thinks better of leading you into the mayor's office.

You don’t need to see that.

“Right,” he instructs lowly.

You pause in your path and slowly look to your right. Another door, but you’re unsure of where it leads. And more unsure of how to move to get there. You’re entirely too scared to turn around and face whoever this man is, so you trepidatiously side step until you’re next to the door.

“Go,” he nudges again.

You reach for the handle and as your sweaty palm touches it, the door easily pushes open.

You don’t enter the small office space until you’re pushed inside. And you don’t register the welling in your eyes until an errant tear slips down your cheek.

You haven’t said a single word. You haven’t a single idea what is going on, what you’ve stumbled into. But you’re terrified.

The man - you assume - walks you into the office and all the way up to the desk at the back of the space. You stop as you come to the edge of it, nowhere else to go as your legs hit the front of the desk and you bend just the slightest, your heart gripping in your chest as your hands come up to stabilize you.

You’re sick at the thought of what might come next. What could happen to you.

A tight breath escapes you as you wait for him to tell you what he wants you to do next.

“Behind the desk,” he orders after what felt like an eternity - though was only a second or two.

You listen without question, not a thought in your mind telling you to disobey.

It’s only as you round the desk you realize he is no longer at your back.

Your gaze lands on his body. The man is tall, and built. He wears military clothes, all black with tactical gear strapped around him. A holster on his thigh that holds a knife, and you’re thankful you didn’t try to run. You wouldn’t have gotten very far at all.

Your eyes drag up his imposing form slowly until they reach his face.

His hair is dark and long around his jaw. He wears a mask that covers half of his face and black goggles that cover his eyes. For only a second it makes it less intimidating to look at him; and then you realize he can see you all too clearly - he watches you closely.

Suddenly his head snaps to the direction of the door, as if he’s heard something despite the still quietness of the building.

You stand in disturbed confusion until he speaks again, not looking back at you as he starts toward the door. “Under the desk,” he orders. “Stay there.”

You lower yourself down to your knees and as you try to crawl in the small space allotted there, you finally hear what it is the man in the mask must have heard.

There’s people coming.

Your blood freezes in your veins as your eyes sting. What do you do?

What if they’re here to help? Should you yell, run, something?

There’s a pull in your stomach that tells you not to. Something about his instructions that feel more aimed at your concealment than his own.

You hear him leave the room, shutting the door behind him. Then the sound of others coming down the hall, voices harsh and mean and some taunting and chortles intermingled. You can’t make out a word, but you don’t hear the man in the mask’s voice either.

The uncertainty and unknowing grows and makes you feel sick. You’re shaking, you realize, as you grasp your hands together in a fruitless attempt to soothe yourself.

What is happening?

Where is V?

Who is that man? And who are these people joining him?

What’s gonna happen to you?

You drop your head as you hold yourself beneath the desk. What can you do but wait it out…

You don’t know how long passes as you anguish alone, your stress and anxiety mounting, when suddenly the door of the room slams open. You shake despite yourself at the unexpected noise and clamp a hand over your mouth to keep your startled gasp down.

“When I give you an order,” a dark and mean voice cuts through the quiet, “you listen, soldier,” he sneers. “You understand me?”

There’s no response as you wait, quaking with baited breath.

You can tell when the man actually enters the room. He makes a mess in his wake, pushing things off the shelves and breaking objects you can’t see all around the space. The sounds add to your terror as they grow closer.

“You said you cleared the building, soldier,” the man speaks, his voice so close now you can imagine him standing right beside the desk. “So then who the hell is this?” He asks as he bends down and meets your terrified and teary gaze. His face is scrunched in what you can only assume is anger before he takes you in and a sick smirk graces his lips.

He grabs you, hard, and pulls you up to stand. His hand is rough around your arm and his hold hurts as he turns you, holding your back to his chest as you’re once again met with the man in the mask across the desk from you.

He shows no emotion, none anyone would be able to read at least as his face is still covered.

“Never known you to miss… well, anything, soldier. How’d this one get by you?” He asks, jolting you for fun as he laughs when you can’t help the whimper that escapes.

“She did get by you, didn’t she? Must’ve,” he walks you around the desk, closer to the man in the mask. “Because you know your orders. And you follow them,” he shoves you into the man before you as you gasp and grunt, crashing into his vested chest. “To the goddamn letter,” he snarls.

The soldier, as he called him, takes you by your left arm, his hold not nearly as painful as the previous, as he keeps you close to him.

“NOW!” The man yells, causing you to finally cry as you keep your face to the soldier's chest. You don’t know why he feels like your only form of safety here, but he does - and you don’t want to face the anger of the man behind you any longer.

You see the soldier’s hand move to his thigh and watch as he swiftly takes hold of the knife kept there.

It all happens so fast, you don’t even really see it coming.

You almost don’t realize what happened until you feel it.

You clutch onto the soldier as you gasp, the pain radiating as you look down to your torso.

His hand still holds the knife that he pierced into you as he keeps it there. It’s quiet, until he jabs the knife further into you.

He’s not looking at you as he does it, he’s looking at the man behind you.

You can feel the hot tears as they slip down your cheeks, and the warmth of your blood as it begins to stain through your shirt, though you can’t make a sound.

The man behind you speaks, “That’s what I thought,” his voice is sinister and you can almost hear the smile you imagine he wears. He walks past you and the soldier as he moves toward the door, “You wanted to make a mess, you can clean this one up yourself. Extraction is still set.”

You both stay as you are, you frozen despite the adrenaline that is starting to rush through you, and him still as he waits for… for what, you’re not sure.

He must hear something you don't hear after a moment because suddenly he quickly and methodically moves into action, though he tries not to jostle you much as he does.

You murmur in your disbelief and confusion as he gently moves you around and tends to you. Your mind is scattered everywhere and nowhere and you don’t register much of anything but the pain and the fear and the confusion that swims around you distantly.

What is happening?

There’s blood. You look down and touch the red before the soldier can stop you. Your hand shakes as you lift it, examining the blood on your fingers.

Things start to come into form once again as the pain re-emerges. Your shirt is ripped and you're laying on the floor as the soldier kneels beside you. His knife is no longer sticking out of you as he dresses the wound, a crappy little first aid kit on the floor next to you. You’re not bleeding much that you can tell but it still hurts.

You begin shaking again, you’re cold and you feel dizzy.

He says something but you’re hearing is muffled and you can’t make it out or focus on the words he speaks.

You feel a hand on your face as he gently turns you to look at him.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, his voice thick with a Russian accent that sounds…misplaced somehow. Like it’s not his native tongue, but one he speaks in often. “I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

A chill runs through you again and you feel your eyes flutter, rolling back as he strokes your cheek in an attempt to soothe you.

And then it all goes black.

You woke up in your apartment, you’re not sure how much later. Your car was parked in its spot outside. You were in a clean pair of pajamas, your whole body felt clean…

Was it a dream?

You sit up and gasp as your abdomen pulls.

Fear engulfs you as you trepidatiously grab the hem of your pajama shirt. You inch it up slowly until you see it. The proof of what happened. There’s stitches as you stare at the healing wound marring your skin.

What the hell happened?

Did he bring you here? Did he wash you and change your clothes? Drive your car? Stitch you up?

Who else could it have been if not him…

Veronica! Where is she?!

You gingerly get up and search for your phone, finding it charging on your kitchen counter. You scramble for it and are met with an absurd number of notifications from friends and acquaintances alike. You scroll back to the first missed few and see Veronica’s contact on a missed message.

Your brows furrow as you open it.

Your mouth is dry and your stomach lurches, a growing pit threatening to overwhelm you.

The time stamp is 6:00pm yesterday.

That can’t be right, you know it. You heard her phone ringing and… no. This is crazy. This can’t be real.

The message is insane. A confession of love, of her affair with Mr. Tedder. Their plan to runaway together. An apology for not telling you sooner. A goodbye.

You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you as you click her icon to call her.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

You call again.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

And again.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

And again.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

Before you finally break down. You can’t stop the tears as you crumble into yourself.

What the hell happened?

You know Veronica. You know that message wasn’t sent by her. You can’t prove it. But you know it.

Who can you tell? Who would believe you?

She didn’t have any family, no one to miss her. No one to argue with the facts that seem to have been proven by every reporting outlet in the state. No one but you. And who were you? What could you possibly do?

You waded through the two week news storm that followed, through the messages asking you if you knew, if she had ever told you about their plans to getaway, to abandon the campaign and go live their happiest lives together somewhere far away. It was awful. Torture. You never spoke a word of what happened to you that day. And you never spoke a word of what fate you were sure truly met your best friend and one time mayor. Though, you never did see anything. Only the implication of what those men were there for, of what the man in the mask was there to do.

There was no scene at city hall. Those men must have cleaned everything up. Set everything up.

And then there was you. The one loose thread in their perfectly constructed story.

Lucky for them you weren’t brave enough or strong enough to ever attempt to unravel it all.

Though deep down you knew the truth. You weren’t supposed to be here. And they probably have no idea that you’re still around.

That soldier, that man in the mask. He saved you. He was supposed to get rid of you, to kill you, but he didn’t.

And you have no idea why.

You don’t think you ever will.

You’re not sure you even want to.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #dark!bucky barnes x curvy!reader #soft dark bucky x reader #soft!dark bucky barnes x curvy!reader #soft!dark bucky barnes #soft!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #winter soldier x curvy!reader #winter soldier x reader #know my name

140 notes · View notes