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bloodbruise · 2 months

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@jegulus-microfic | april 7: regret | 2,011 words | NSFW

sometimes your best friend's brother is so hot you just have to jerk off about it.

Fucked.

That’s what James was—completely and irrevocably fucked.

He couldn't claim ignorance; he'd seen it coming from a mile away. The change had been gradual, an ever-present whisper he failed to quiet. The subtle shift from looking at Regulus and seeing Sirius’ younger brother to looking at him and seeing Regulus. His continued presence at his and Sirius’ place had casual conversation turning into inside jokes, quips and jabs traded back and forth–James loved it when Regulus was a little mean to him. It turned into movie nights and visits at Regulus' job.

All of it was fuel to a slowly kindling fire.

So, really, he had no one else but himself to blame when he got burned. Scorched, actually.

It was a casual favor–helping Regulus move because Sirius had gotten held up at work. It was supposed to be nothing, just helping out a friend, something he would do for anyone in his life. Something he did without a second thought because that was James’ Thing. But, he really should have thought it through. Because watching Regulus, who was usually so impeccably composed, now disheveled and glistening with sweat, was an exercise in restraint. James’ mind was in a tailspin, fixated on lithe muscles moving beneath skin, flush from exertion high on his cheeks, messy hair pushed back and curls barely controlled by a headband.

James had been so normal about it all, truly, given the circumstances. Silently commending himself on his raw unadulterated strength for not jumping Regulus right then and there– he was playing it so cool. But everything teetered on the edge of collapse when Regulus, busy trying to put his couch back together, asked James to fetch the other screwdriver from the box beside his bed.

To James’ credit, there were a lot of boxes there, so he naturally went with the one closest to the headboard. And later, when Sirius chewed him out for wanting to fuck his younger brother, he would blame it on that fucking screwdriver. Because when he lifted the lid, the contents inside hit him like a physical blow. The room spun. He was going to fucking faint.

Inside the box was... Christ. It was overwhelming. Toys, lots of them, lined up all pretty and careless and innocent. Like they weren't going to kill him right on the spot. His eyes caught on the purple one, how thick it was. His mind oscillated between stupor, awe, and undeniable arousal, only snapped back to reality by Regulus' voice, muffled from down the hall.

“James? Did you find it?”

In a panic, he slammed the lid shut and scrambled for another box. “Uh-huh, yeah,” he called back, nodding to himself, still dazed. “Found it, found it.”

With the screwdriver finally in hand, James re-entered the living room, his cheeks flushed and a strained smile on his lips. He passed it over to Regulus and awkwardly clasped his hands in front of him, attempting to conceal the evident bulge in his pants. He had intended to stay, they had planned for dinner afterwards–Regulus’ treat for his help. But now, his thoughts were a vortex, endlessly spiraling around Regulus and those toys and–.

Voice too high and a little thready, he hastily blurted, “Okay, we got all the boxes, right? Yeah, okay, all set,” thumb jerking towards the door, “I forgot- I actually have to go, yeah.” Nodding to himself. He was aware that he probably looked insane, but staying was not an option. Not when every thought was a hazard. So he just stumbled through a weak excuse, pointedly ignoring the puzzled look on Regulus’ face, and rushed home. His grip flexing hard on the steering wheel and music blasting the entire time, because he was sure if he let his mind wander he would veer off the side of the road and crash his car.

It was only in the safety of his own room that he allowed himself to unravel. He twists the doorknob, pulling on it to ensure that it’s locked. His mind going straight back to that box, to Regulus, and his imagination runs.

Fully clothed, pants a mess–precum everywhere– he shoves them down. Just far enough so he can get a hand around himself, not even bothering to move to the bed. He knows the intimate details of what the inside of Regulus’ bedroom looks like. So there’s a crystal clear image that he can’t shake. Regulus, legs spread wide and fucking himself—his head thrown back, hips twitching up and opening so sweetly around a toy. There was something so erotic about the thought of Regulus coming home, maybe even from James’ place, and taking care of himself. Stuffing himself full until he was crying out and shaking with it.

Was it drawn out–slow? Did he take his time and open himself up with his fingers first? Or was he usually too worked up and eager to wait, just sinking down and reveling in the burn? Did he ever use a vibrator at the same time? It was delicious, the idea of Regulus being pleasure-drunk by his own hand. James knew if it was him, he would be insatiable, would force one more and another one please, baby out of Regulus until he was sobbing. James needed to see it, thought he might die without it.

A whimper rips from his throat at the mere thought of it– picturing himself at the foot of Regulus’ bed, content to just watch, to be so good for him. His movements become more frantic, hand working over himself faster. He pulls up his shirt and bites down on the fabric, head falling back against the door. In his mind, he wonders if Regulus would chide him for being bad, when James would finally break and scramble over to him. If he would let out a noise of protest when he pushes Regulus’ hand away and takes over, gripping the base and fucking him. He imagines how he would react when James crowds into his space, licking into his mouth and swallowing down his moans.

James is close when he thinks about Regulus’ eyes half shut and rolling back, body arching against him. How he would feel under his palm if he dragged it down the plane of his chest, if he raked his fingers through the hair under his belly button. Fuck. The thought of what it would feel like to touch between his legs, feel him wet and warm and dripping on his fingers. He’s almost there, movements getting more urgent. He starts circling his thumb over his sensitive tip with every upstroke. Has to grab at his own throat to ground himself, squeezing for just a little pressure because his body is feeling so good that it's floating up, up, up.

When James finally breaks, its with a weak, breathless, “ah- fuck R- Reg.” He makes a mess of himself. Back arching off the door, coming in ropes across his chest and dripping sloppily over his hand. He stays there for a while, slumped against the door, twitching with aftershocks. It’s only after his breath returns to its regular pattern that he moves, grimacing slightly as he sheds the rest of his clothes in a crumpled heap.

Nevermind the guilt of jerking off to his best friend’s brother, his own friend–his mind was reeling. James had convinced himself that it would help, to get it out of his system and be done with it. Deep down, though, he knew that wasn't possible. He knew that indulging himself would only pull him deeper into his spiral of obsession with Regulus. It was a little fucked up, but he couldn't find it in himself to regret it.

Exhausted, he collapsed onto the bed, a groan escaping him. The images and thoughts of Regulus were still there, but they were shifting. Had he ever used them on anyone else? What would it be like if he used them on James?

Against the mattress, James let out a heady moan. His forehead was slick with sweat, hair clinging to his skin. He found himself rocking hips involuntarily, pushing his spent cock into the bed. God, would Regulus top him? Fuck him with his strap and tell him he takes him so well. Oh, would he make him suck on it too? The overstimulation from the lack of respite was deliciously painful. He bit down on the sheets, grinding against them as he reached out clumsily and fumbled for the lube in the bedside table.

This second time was just as desperate. Lube in hand, James coated his fingers. So messy–glistening on his hand the same way he imagined it would look after pulling it from Regulus’ cunt. He drew his knees up under himself, breath picking up again and chest heaving against the mattress. His glasses askew and head turned to the side, he was looking back as best as he could at where his fingers were circling his hole.

He eased one finger in. He didn't feel nearly full enough but there's a slight burn– a reminder that he hasn’t done this in so long. He wishes Regulus were here to stroke his cheek, his neck. For him to press down on where James’ hand is inside of himself and tell him, “You can take more baby, I know you can. Need it, hm?”

James is gasping with the thought, mouth open and drooling a bit. He can’t bring himself to care though. He briefly pulls his finger out, swiping hastily at his stomach where his cum hasn't dried and mixing it with the lube before he’s pushing back in, another alongside it.

“Christ” he swears to himself. It’s a little clumsy, an awkward angle. His own fingers are a little too thick to move them fluently. He thinks it wouldn’t be like that with Regulus. In his mind, Regulus would work his fingers inside him with the same poise and deadly precision that he does everything else. He’d probably talk him through it too, breath hot against his ear as he teased James for being so needy, for wanting to be filled. It would have James on the edge in minutes, and that thought alone is so hot that James can't even feel shameful about it.

He shifts, pushing up on one arm and arches his back, so he can drive his fingers deeper. He slips in another finger. He’s so– so worked up, body so warm. Sweat beads on his neck, trailing down and pooling where his back curves. Both of his arms ache with the strain, but he’s too far gone to notice. Too caught up in the slide of his fingers, lost to the thought that even three of them were still not as thick as the purple toy in Regulus’ room. He’s pretty sure he’s making noise, he can't really tell though. Everything’s gone a bit fuzzy from the pleasure.

He knows he’s loud when he comes though. He finds the spot that has him going weak, almost buckling the arm that's holding him up. It’s overwhelming, he focuses on a few hard presses of his fingers right there and he's coming. A broken sob wracking his body as he gives into it, writhing against the feeling, ruining himself even more. He draws it out as long as he can, fingers moving relentlessly until his nerves sing with raw sensitivity. He slips them out before collapsing into the mattress, just breathing.

He can't help but laugh at himself-–thinks it's a little pathetic. That one accidental peek into a box has left him lying here, covered in his own sweat and spend. And yet, his mind is still running over the possibilities. A constant loop of Regulus and toys and straps. A low whine escapes him at the idea of going another round, his cock already twitching at the mere thought.

And through the haze of it all, the pleasure and the embarrassment and the Regulus, he can only make sense of one thing:

He is so utterly fucked.

#a part 2 is coming methinks #microbial genetics exam on tuesday... i havent reviewed any lectures but i did write this!#jegulus #regulus black #james potter #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #marauders #starchaser #marauders fanfic

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puppy-steve · 3 months

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steve laying on top of eddie because sometimes it feels like there's a gaping hole in his chest, like his ribs have been cracked open and filled with empty space where his heart is supposed to be. he doesn't get this feeling often, usually only comes over him in the night, when his thoughts get too heavy and too mean. but laying on top of eddie helps. he tucks his head under eddie's chin and snuggles in close. tangles their legs together and gets his arms around eddie's torso so he can hold him as tight as he needs, the pressure against his chest making the emptiness feel not as overwhelming. eddie never protests and makes sure to hold him back just as tight.

#cj talks #i hope this is okay. it's the first thing ive written in a month #my cast comes off on tuesday and im excited to start writing again #cj writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic

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foolishlovers · 5 months

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going to university/having a job really interferes with my good omens fanfic author career

#🤡#can someone read some texts for me so i can write #sksksks 🥲#i’ve written a bit on TOTP today tho #but i wanna write more…#need to read a book until tuesday tho and haven’t started #so i guess i have to prioritise that yikes #foolish talks #good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens shitpost

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starrystevie · 1 year

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it doesn't happen as a revelation. there's no jolting pain in his chest that sends steve reeling, no internal crisis that has him shaking on the bathroom floor, no shocking sense of guilt or desperation or fire licking in his veins. nothing that makes the world stop spinning and making him trip over his feet.

it's a normal moment when he realizes he's in love with eddie.

they're sitting in steve's car, ac blasting and music on low for once, waiting for a handful of the kids to get done with their final exams. they don't pick them up as much anymore and steve pointedly ignores how much he misses the times of carting them all around before mike started a ripple effect and got his license. but they're taking the kids to the lake after school to try and enjoy the last bits of non-suffocating sunshine before summer really hits, just like old times.

it isn't a revelation in the sense that it's some earth shattering event, but more like a moment of clarity. eddie's hair blows back for a second and he's blabbering about something from the dnd game he played the night before with his shop buddies with a wide grin and animated hands and the sun glints off the puckered pink scar on the side of his face in the most perfect way and he's beautiful and-

oh.

steve's vision seems clearer than it has in a while. his lungs feel a bit more shaky but not in a bad way, his heart stumbles against his ribcage like it's tripped over itself and the butterflies in his chest are the only things catching it. he laughs to himself because of course this has to happen when he wasn't expecting it, when he doesn't have a plan, but then eddie's looking at him and he knows he doesn't need one. not yet, anyway.

"you good, man?" eddie asks, eyebrows crinkled together and smirk on his face. he's painted golden in the afternoon sun, shining as bright as the north star. steve's always liked gold.

it's taken steve years to get here. the two of them have grown up together in the way that teenagers do while they figure out the roads laid out before them. they've learned each other's ins and outs through long nights and early mornings and everything in between. he knows his breathing, the way his footsteps sound, the smell of his aftershave, the feeling of his hands on his shoulders. it all comes together in this perfect package wrapped up in a perfect bow and for once, steve lets himself hope like he's a kid on christmas morning.

"yeah," he shakes his head to clear out the eddie-shaped stars in his vision, offers up a smirk of his own. it's taken years to get here so he still has time to do this right. "perfect."

#don't mind me just feeling like a ~hopeless romantic~ this fine tuesday morning #had to write it as an italicized oh moment don't mind that either #steddie #steddie hc #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet

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nopoodles · 4 months

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I decided to try something new with a planner/diary this year, which included tracking my word count and daily work-tasks so I have a better level of understanding of what I actually did in the time that I was working. (Because releasing Unlicensed Delivery got quite chaotic and I want to mitigate that this go around).

And I decided to take a leaf out of @thebibliosphere's book and use stickers for tracking word count (I never had a sticker chart as a kid). And I picked 200 words as my sticker-goal because that is still my baseline for a good writing day but I'm starting to think I should have picked a larger word count...

[id: a lined planner page with purple handwritten text and three units of stickers. 5x multi-coloured hearts, 19x multi-coloured stars, and 8x multi-coloured stars]

I didn't know I wrote so many words.... I'm gonna run out of stickers

#writing #writerblr #this is ky first week back from holiday and i wrote 0 words on Tuesday because i had so many other things to do for work

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scoops-stevie-archive · 1 year

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ftm steve, established steddie. contains detailed descriptions of periods.

Steve spends the first day of his period absolutely miserable. His emotions are all over the place. One minute he's this close to lashing out at the first minor inconvenience and the next he's ready to bawl his eyes out.

He knows Robin can tell that something's up. She keeps asking if he's alright and Steve tries to brush it off, tell her he's fine, it's just a little headache, he couldn't sleep last night. But then that sends her into another spiral that makes Steve want to scream and throw something just to get her to be quiet.

Those are mean thoughts, Steve knows, but his body's all out of whack, and his knees and lower back are killing him and he swears he can feel his fucking hips shifting. Add in the cramps that are steadily rolling through his uterus and he's so fucking close to committing homicide.

He's in the stacks, dead-eyed as he stocks the new animated releases, and shifting from foot to foot because now those also hurt and he can feel the beginnings of a migraine that'll have him calling off the next day, and he just wants to go home and lay on the couch with his heating pad and his boyfriend while some shitty TV show plays in the background.

"Steve?" Speak of the devil.

Steve makes a noise of acknowledgement and continues to shelve the tapes. He ignores the pang in his chest that makes him want to reach out and pull Eddie closer and burrow into him.

As if he can read his mind (or tell by the look on his face), Eddie steps closer. "You got Robbie real worried, sweetheart," he says gently, hands in his pockets. Steve can tell he wants to reach out for him the same way he does.

"I'm fine, Eds," Steve says. More like he tries not to snap at the only person who knows about his "condition." He can feel his agitation rising, though, with another wave of cramps that are accompanied by nausea and a sick feeling of something gushing from down there.

"Is that why you look like you wanna blow chunks all over the place right now?"

Steve maybe puts a tape on the shelf a little too hard. "It's been a shit day, Eddie, I really don't need sarcasm right now."

Eddie puts his hands up. "Sorry, sorry." He comes a little closer and lowers his voice. "Talk to me, baby. What's the matter?"

Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's the first day," he mutters behind his hand.

"Hm? I couldn't hear you, Stevie."

"I said–" Steve sighs again, harsher this time, and his hand falls to his side, his gaze firmly locked on the tapes in front of him. "It's the first day, and the first day is always shit. It feels like a rock's sitting in my stomach or something and I can't take more than two steps without feeling like I'm gonna puke."

He doesn't mean to unload it all onto his boyfriend, but he asked for it. His perfect, wonderful boyfriend who takes it all in stride without a single hint of judgement or disgust.

"I'm hormonal as fuck, man, and it’s like customers chose today specifically to be even more annoying than they usually are, like they made it their personal mission or some shit."

Steve looks to the front of the store where Robin is still at the counter and then back at Eddie. "Robin keeps asking me if I'm alright, and I love her, Eds, I really do, but if she keeps it up, I'm gonna end up snapping at her and then she'll cry and that'll make me feel even worse."

Steve takes a deep breath, holds in it for ten seconds, and exhales. "I just need a break," he says, sounding defeated, and so so tired. "I just need to be alone for five minutes, and–"

Eddie, who has been quiet this whole time, like a saint, letting Steve rant until he runs out of steam, tilts his head and looks at him with those big Bambi eyes Steve loves so much.

"And what, Stevie?" he asks gently.

Something in Steve's chest snaps and his bottom lip wobbles before he can stop it. The back of his throat burns like it always does when he's about to cry, and– yep, here come the tears.

He takes a shaky breath and his voice breaks when he says, "I need you."

Eddie's expression falls into something Steve absolutely hates. "Baby–"

Steve clears his throat and the tears are gone as quick as they came, though his eyes are a little red rimmed and shiny.

He shakes his head and waves Eddie off, putting more tapes on the shelves like he didn't just have a mini breakdown in the middle of his shift. "It's fine, Eddie, really. I'll just, I don't know, take a painkiller and tough the next couple hours out."

The tape he's holding is gently taken from him and set on the shelf for him. Eddie levels him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that really what you want to do?"

Steve bites his lip. He doesn't. Work is the last place he wants to be at today, or this whole week for that matter.

He shakes his head with a soft, "No."

"Okay, then."

Eddie tells him to go grab his things from the break room. Steve is too exhausted to argue. He comes back to the front counter but before Robin can launch into a lengthy apology, Eddie interrupts her with a minute shake of his head.

Steve holds his arms out and pulls her in for a hug anyway.

"I'm sorry for being an ass all day," he says and plants a kiss on the top of her head.

Robin hugs him back and kisses his cheek. "I'm sorry for being pushy." She pulls back and takes Steve's hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. "Hope you feel better soon, dingus."

Steve can't leave his car at work overnight so he follows Eddie's van to the trailer. He grabs one of Eddie's pullover hoodies out of his closet once they're inside and a pair of baggy sweatpants before making a beeline for the bathroom to pee and change his pad.

Soon enough, Steve comfortable and cozy on the couch, covered with at least two blankets and even more pillows, his hood pulled over his head and mussing his hair up even more. Eddie's got My Friend Is a Vampire playing on the TV, but Steve's saving grace is the heating pad that's covering his waist under the blankets.

Steve groans softly as he's hit with more cramps and shifts his hips against them.

"Here, sweetheart." Eddie comes back from the kitchen and hands him a cup of hot chocolate. He reclaims his spot next to Steve, boxing him between his body and the back of the couch. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," Steve grumps, taking a sip and reaching back to set the mug on the side table. "I'd rather take being gnawed on by demobats than have to deal with these cramps. At least I can see the bats and try to stop them." He winds his arms around Eddie's waist and rests his head on his shoulder.

Eddie crinkles his nose in distaste. "Frankly, babe, I'd rather you not go through either." He rubs his thumb over the skin of Steve's hip. "What's stopping you from using all that government money to pay for your surgery?"

Steve hums and turns his nose into Eddie's neck, smiling against the skin. "I wanna get at least one kid out of you before I do that."

They've talked about this. In length. Eddie was there for the Winnebago conversation. Steve wasn't lying back then, but he's since realized he was wanting all those things with the wrong person.

"Yeah?" Eddie's voice is amused. "You want a couple Harrington spawn running around the trailer park?"

"Nah, was thinking more along the lines of a Munson brat."

Eddie stills against him.

Steve comes out from his hiding spot and grins at the look on his boyfriend's face. He leans up and kisses his cheek. "Did I break your brain on that one, honey?"

Eddie shakes himself out of his stupor and cups Steve's face, pressing him into the couch so he can kiss him silly.

"I'm gonna give you so many Munson brats, baby," he promises between leaving kisses all over Steve's face and Steve's giggles. "You won't even know what hit ya by the time I'm through with you."

Steve guffaws and lets Eddie cover him with kisses and love.

"I'll hold you to that, baby, don't worry."

#cj writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #ftm steve #ftm steve harrington #trans steve harrington #wrote this on tuesday when i started my period and was feeling like shit #now it's saturday and my period is over #cj talks

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possumsquat · 1 year

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cmonnnn i'm just a little birthday vampire tim cmonn

#tim stoker #tim stoker tuesday #jon sims #jonathan sims #the magnus archives #tma #art #jontim #vampire jontim au #you know i'm crazy abt these bitches #me and cat are writing out a fanfic rn.... i hope we get to post it soon #that's dannys jacket. just so you all know

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connanro · 24 days

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batman (2016) #147

#bruce wayne #tim drake #batman #batfam #dc #tuesday spoilers #con reads comics #conpost #SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP #chip zdarsky i owe you my LIFE #FINALLY my boy is getting the writing he deserves!!!!!!

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1d1195 · 1 year

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Tuesday

I’m a sucker for protective Harry and exes to lovers sort of vibes.

Harry forgot that after they broke up he started sleeping on the side she did...for a while it smelled like her and as good as the break up was, he missed her and longed for her. Sleeping on her side made him feel closer to her. After a while, he forgot it wasn’t where he usually slept.

She was sitting in the coffee shop looking at her phone. Scrolling through the contacts was making her more anxious. It wasn’t super late—only nine. But it was dark out in the dead of winter and on Tuesday no less. She had class in the morning, and she didn’t want to bother anyone because she knew they had classes in the morning too.

When she closed this evening, she got a weird vibe from the guy hovering in the corner of the shop who kept asking her when she got off her shift and if she wanted to hang out afterwards. At the time she wasn’t alone, but she assured her coworker she would be fine—and was now regretting it. Something in the pit of her stomach was making her nervous. She didn’t want to go outside to her car, but it seemed a little dramatic.

So, she was scrolling through her (admittedly, not so very many) contacts deciding mentally if anyone was close enough that she was willing to bother. She was scrolling her way back to the top after her initial run through getting increasingly nervous as she crept back toward the A’s. If she made it back to the top, she wasn’t sure what she’d do at that point.

But it was the H’s that caught her attention.

“Fuck,” she whispered to literally no one but herself. Putting her hand on her forehead, she sighed. She didn’t want to call him. It had been two years since she last spoke to him. The chances of him even inhabiting the same apartment, a mere five-minute drive away, let alone the same town after he graduated and got a real job were slim to none. Plus, the idea he would answer her phone call at nine on a Tuesday night seemed downright laughable.

Honestly though, he was her only hope.

Biting her lip, she clicked on his name. It almost felt foreign. But something deep within her found it felt so familiar it was impossible to not feel at ease just listening to the sound of the phone ringing knowing he would be at the other end (if he would answer).

“Hello?” He asked. His voice sounded confused. She wasn’t surprised at his tone. It was insane for her to call him.

“Harry,” she said simply.

“Uh...hi, love,” it sounded loud wherever he was. She should have known Harry would be with people and living his life.

“Hi,” she said softly.

It was quiet for a moment other than the sound of whatever Harry was doing in the background. She thought about the last time they spoke. It had to have been right about when things ended. It wasn’t a bad breakup, but they didn’t really stay in touch. She saw pictures and updates on social media but Harry wasn’t all that active. She had no way of knowing a whole lot about his personal life—if he was seeing anyone...or anything like that.

“Love?” He said and the noise seemed to fade in the background of his concerned voice. “Y’okay?” He asked.

“Um...” she shook her head trying to remain focused and remember why she called her ex-boyfriend. “Er...yeah. M’fine...it’s just...” she sighed. “M’sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I’m just...I’m at work and...well I’m trying to leave but there was this guy and I got a weird feeling. But it’s stupid...and I just...there’s no one I know nearby, and I thought if you were still at your place close by then...” she shook her head hearing how ridiculous this all sounded. Bothering Harry on a Tuesday night for something that might not even happen. Her heart was fluttering. This was ridiculous. “Harry, I’m so sorry. This was a stupid phone call. There’s nothing wrong. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll be fine,” she said firmly gathering her belongings in her arms and steeling herself for the cold walk outside to her car.

“Oh...hey...” he frowned as he held the phone to his ear. “S’alright love. You’re not a bother,” he promised. “Are...are you inside still?” He asked. She could hear a flurry of movement on his end. There was a rustling of keys, and a few calls in the distance were yelled but she couldn’t make out the words.

“Yeah...but really, it’s fine. It’s late and I’m being ridiculous. I’m just going to—”

“M’still nearby,” he said quickly interrupting her. “Jus’...wait five minutes. I’ll be right there.”

For a moment she stilled and silenced her rationale and the convoluted reasoning in her head. “Really?” She asked, feeling relief course through her body. She didn’t even realize how stressed she was about the situation. The brave front for Harry slowly seemed to dissipate. There was no way she could know that Harry also recognized the worry in her voice.

“’Course, love,” he said easily. They were both quiet for a moment and she could hear the jingling of Harry’s keys, the unlocking of his car. “D’you want me t’stay on the phone with you?” He wondered.

She nodded, feeling comforted by Harry just breathing. Someone was coming to her rescue, even if she was being ridiculous. She didn’t even realize she nodded. But Harry didn’t get off the phone despite not knowing her answer. It was weird to be so content with Harry silently coming to her. With her eyes closed, she could almost picture Harry’s route. Hearing his blinker, the sound of the road...it was almost too much for her. Him just coming to her without so much as a real reason—just a feeling—was heartwarming. It made her miss him all over again.

When they dated, Harry was nothing less than perfect. He did everything with the utmost respect and chivalry. He was an amazing boyfriend and she adored him more than any other boyfriend she ever had. It broke her heart when they ended their relationship, truly. She reminded herself it wasn’t a bad break up. It was mature. They grew apart and Harry graduated, and things were ending. But she was still in school. Granted, now she was on the last of her classes and graduating the coming spring. Harry was out in the real world these last two years being perfect for whoever he worked for and for whoever he was dating.

“Hey love?” He asked gently. Her thoughts pulled back to the present. “M’parking right now. M’gonna come to the front, yeah? I’ll knock, okay?”

She nodded again, making her way from the back of the shop toward the front door. She could see Harry, phone pressed to his ear, looking just as she remembered him. Tall, lanky, and handsome as could be. Always. If she wasn’t so nervous, she would have ogled him for longer. She unlocked the door and let Harry in. “Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi,” he replied. “You alright, love?” He asked.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she didn’t sound alright, though.

He glanced out the doorway and his brow creased in the middle. He looked highly annoyed. “M’glad you called,” he said quietly.

“Thank you,” her voice was so small and quiet. She looked nervously through the front window seeing Harry’s car closest to the shop. “Would you mind walking me to my car?”

He nodded. “Course, love,” he promised easily.

“You really didn’t have to come,” she said. It was a phrase that sounded like she should be annoyed—even though she was the one that asked him here, in so many words. But Harry knew her. He knew she wasn’t annoyed. He knew she was scared and didn’t want to be a bother. She was annoyed that she bothered him, if anything.

He shook his head. “Nonsense, love. Don’t mind at all,” he kept glancing out the window then he turned his attention back to her. “M’gonna...” he rolled his lips into his mouth and then sighed. “Kitten, m’gonna hold you, alright?” He said softly. She glanced out the window again, trying to see around Harry, but he stepped in her view. It wasn’t good. He must have been out there. A shiver ran up her back and she let out a small, nervous noise that came from deep in her soul. “Don’t worry,” he shook his head quickly and kept her from seeing. He took her bag off her shoulder and put it on his own. She had her keys in her hand and she swallowed. “M’here,” he promised. “M’not going anywhere.”

Harry wrapped his arm around her waist, pressing his side fully to hers as they walked toward his car parked right next to hers. They were silent except for Harry quietly whispering directions toward her. “Are you alright t’drive?” She nodded silently. Harry opened her driver’s door. He waited for her to sit, and he physically blocked her view outside the door. “Are y’sure y’can drive?” She nodded. “Are y’still at the same place?” She nodded again.

Harry reached past her to settle her bag on her passenger seat.

“Love?” He questioned again. He was hesitant to ask his next question but the way she looked so nervous and scared had him reeling.

It also didn’t help there was a creep a mere 30 meters away from them waiting for her like she was bait. She turned to look at him, her breath shaky, her hands kept shaking too as they reached for her steering wheel.

“Y-yeah?”

“I want you t’come t’my place, yeah?”

She felt scared so she just nodded. “Okay.”

“Kitten, m’not gonna let anything happen t’you, okay? I promise.”

“Okay,” she nodded again but it felt a lot more right this time.

Pressing the lock button on her door, he gave her arm a gentle squeeze as she turned her car on. “M’gonna follow you so wait until m’in the car,” he said softly. She nodded once more.

Harry was fuming about all of it. Seeing her name pop up on his phone made him confused and worried. But nothing prepared him for the feeling of helplessness and worry he actually felt when he went to the coffee shop and saw her car and a one other car waiting for her to exit work. He hadn’t spoken to her in two years, but he didn’t want to think about what he would do if he found out something terrible happened to her. As he started his car looking toward her waiting to go Harry waved to her to indicate he was good to go.

Harry would murder him if he followed them.

Harry spoke to his phone. “Call Niall.”

The phone rang twice before he answered. “Harry, where did y’go?” Niall asked curiously.

“Everyone needs to leave,” Harry said.

“Harry, what are—”

“I don’t care what y’tell them, everyone needs t’be gone in the next three minutes.”

“Harry—”

“Niall! Jus’ get them out!”

“Okay, okay,” Niall said with a tone of defensiveness in his voice. “I’ll get them out.”

“Thank you, I’ll explain when I get there.”

Harry glanced in his rearview mirror and didn’t see anyone following him. But now Harry was paranoid, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He called her again. “Hello?” She asked tentatively.

“Hey love. When y’park, I don’t want y’to get out. I’ll come around t’you, okay?”

“Okay,” she said softly. “Harry?” She whispered.

“Yeah, love?”

“Thank you,” the gratefulness was so thick on her voice Harry could have cried. What if he didn’t see her call? Or what if he decided not to answer? He was worried about things that weren’t but the idea of something happening to her made him feel sick.

“M’really glad you called,” he promised.

She didn’t say anything again. He felt so bad she was so nervous and worked up. She wasn’t one to need saving. She usually did most of the saving her friend group. She was the one with an extra hair tie or a stain stick at restaurants. She never let anyone be hungry or thirsty. If someone didn’t have medicine handy, they could ask her. She was the one that did the saving. She wasn’t the one that needed it. Rarely did she ever ask for help. Asking Harry was not only huge for her, but it meant she really needed it.

When she started downplaying how nervous she was on the phone, Harry thought how terrifying it was that she never needed anyone. Especially for a situation like this. He thought for two seconds what would have happened if her instincts were right, if Harry did ignore her worries, or if she convinced him that she was alright.

Harry quickly brushed those thoughts aside. “Do y’want me t’stay on the phone?” He asked her this earlier. Just like before there was no answer, but he knew she nodded. So, he stayed quietly on the phone listening to her breathing, the sound of her directional, and the road.

There were several cars passing as they pulled up toward Harry and Niall’s place. Harry was grateful Niall got everyone out. “Okay, love, stay put,” he said hanging up as he hurried out of his parked car to her driver’s seat.

Niall was standing on the front stoop waiting to see what Harry was so worked up about. When Harry opened the driver’s door and ushered her out Niall finally understood. “Must have skipped my last eye appointment, is that you princess?” Niall said cheerfully and hurried to give her a hug. It was a bit awkward though because Harry wouldn’t release one of her hands.

“D’you need anything else?” He asked ignoring Niall’s greeting.

“Uh...there’s a bag in my trunk,” she said softly. “I can get it in a minute—” Harry finally released her hand and headed back for her car.

“What brings you here this evening?” Niall asked.

“Oh...uh...” she swallowed. “It was nothing really,” she said shyly. Niall glanced at Harry’s embittered expression. He could see it halfway across their yard while she looked at the ground before looking back at Niall. “I actually think I overreacted and I didn’t know who else to call—”

“She did not overreact,” Harry said simply closing her car up and then coming to her to put a hand on her lower back. He ushered her toward the door. “She’s gonna stay tonight,” Harry told Niall.

Niall blinked then raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What about—”

“No,” he said simply, shaking his head and pushing her more toward the front.

“Harry, that’s not necessary...I think I can—”

“No,” he repeated.

There wasn’t room to argue.

She said goodnight to Niall and Harry continued ushering her into his room. It was the same as before except he moved the bed to the middle of the wall and changed the position of the dresser and the desk in his room. “D’you have clothes or d’you need clothes?”

“I don’t have uh...clothes to wear to bed—”

“Here,” he said quickly and opened the drawer. “Think y’left these here,” he said handing her a pair of leggings that she had lost years ago. It made her feel confused that he kept them folded neatly in a drawer readily available. She wondered if he let other women wear them. She honestly didn’t care. She was glad they were getting some use.

Harry assumed she was questioning the fact he kept her leggings in a drawer folded neatly. He offered them to a girl staying over every now and again. Gem even wore them on occasion. Harry didn’t need to read her mind, to know she was probably happy to help some stranger when they were over and needed something comfy to sleep in. “And y’can wear this,” he said and tossed her a long sleeve shirt that had a logo on it she hadn’t seen before.

“What’s this?” She asked curiously looking at the logo. It wasn’t really the time, but she was potentially in shock and Harry wasn’t going to let that happen, so he just answered her.

“The company I work for,” he shrugged and pulled his shirt over her head.

She dated Harry for two years, so she was used to seeing Harry naked. But not seeing him for two years and for him to casually pull his shirt over his head...well, she missed seeing him. “You got new tattoos,” she said suddenly.

Harry smirked for the first time all night and he paused with his arms in his shirt, but he held off on tugging the shirt over his head. “Uh...jus’ a few,” he said quietly. “One for m’godson, another one for Gem, one ‘cause I drank a little too much one night,” he said shyly.

Harry looked at her gentle smile and thought he would melt. She was all stressed and worked up and so was Harry, but she was beautiful. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. If Harry wasn’t so nervous about her safety, he would have reveled a bit longer in how much he missed her voice and suddenly hearing it woke some part of him that he thought was long gone. The part of him that was hers.

Harry opened the door again. “Hey Ni,” he called. “You still do her skincare routine?”

She let out a huffed little laugh thinking about the night she showed Niall and Harry all the steps to having a clean face before bed making sure to prevent wrinkles and damage to the only skin they had. Harry thought it was too many steps, but Niall was smitten with the routine and asked her no less than fifty questions about what he needed to do to have baby soft skin. Harry was grateful now that it was going to pay in tenfold, because he could make her feel at home and have Niall comfort her for a few moments while he fixed up his room. “Yeah! Princess, you want to share?” He called.

Harry looked at her and then opened the door wider. “All yours,” he said softly.

She took the borrowed clothes and nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered again.

Harry watched her walk to the shared bathroom and Niall followed in behind her to show where he kept everything, but he caught Harry’s eye as he entered quirking one eyebrow at him. Harry shook his head and left the pair to their spa treatment.

Harry’s phone vibrated as he propped up the pillows and got a few more blankets for the sweet girl from his closet. For someone that always ran much too hot, she always wanted more blankets to sleep in at night. He was planning on offering to sleep on the floor or the couch, but he knew she would deny it immediately and probably offer to do it herself. Of course, Harry wasn’t about to let that happen so they would have to settle for sharing. He glanced at the name on his phone and sighed.

Do you want me to come over? Harry felt guilty but he shouldn’t have. It was an arrangement they had agreed upon, and they both knew it.

Not tonight.

Oh. Okay.

Sorry.

No, it’s fine. Just surprised. Everything alright?

Yeah.

Okay.

Harry stopped answering. She deserved more...and if Harry had a little bit better self-esteem maybe he would realize he deserved more too.

There was a knock outside his room. “Y’don’t need t’knock, kitten,” he said with an eye roll as he pulled the covers back for the two of them. Harry heard his door click shut.

“Well...it’s sort of ridiculous that I’m even here, and I feel bad intruding and making you even—”

“Love,” he said turning toward her. She was in his shirt and her leggings now. She settled the clothes she was wearing with her stuff, and she looked toward Harry with so much trust in her eyes Harry wanted to cry. He was so thankful she called him. So thankful she trusted her gut and glad he could help her. “I am so glad y’called me,” he said softly. “You’re not intruding or anything,” he promised. “M’glad you’re here.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Okay,” she said softly. “Thank you,” she repeated again.

Harry gestured to the bed. “I was gonna offer t’sleep on the floor or the couch—”

“Absolutely not.”

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “—But I already knew y’wouldn’t care for that, and I won’t let y’do that either so...” he said and gestured to the bed again.

She couldn’t argue with him so she grabbed her bag and pulled it toward the side of the bed she was used to sleeping on. However, Harry forgot that after they broke up he started sleeping on the side she did...for a while it smelled like her and as good as the break up was, he missed her and longed for her. Sleeping on her side made him feel closer to her. After a while, he forgot it wasn’t where he usually slept. But for tonight, he would have to go back to his side. Harry settled into his bed, pulling the blankets up over him as he scrolled on his phone. It was eerie how comfortable they could get into a routine that was very much the same as the one they used to have.

“Do you mind if I just...finish my essay really quick?” She asked softly.

“Take your time, love,” he nodded easily. “How is school?” He inquired.

She nodded. Harry watched her as she pulled her laptop from her bag and opened it. “It’s good. I’m almost done...I have an internship a couple days a week and they’ve offered me a job when I officially graduate.”

“Kitten, that’s awesome,” he smiled. “Congratulations,” it was so heartfelt it made her stomach flutter.

“How is this place?” She asked, pointing to the logo on her shirt. “Have you been there this whole time?”

“Yeah, I have. It’s a great place. I like it. It’s quiet. I get t’keep t’myself mostly. M’told I’m better than the last guy they had,” Harry chuckled.

She smiled and nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

Harry felt his face warm. “What are you working on now?” He wondered.

“It’s for my history of psychology class,” she said. Harry was always dumbfounded she wanted to be a psychologist but rarely looked at how her own behavior was maddening every now and again. Like tonight when she was willingly about to put her life in danger for some creep because she didn’t want to bother Harry. “Just relating different philosophies to a disorder over time and how the founders of these philosophies would have approached it.”

“Cool,” Harry smiled. “Do you like it still?”

“Very much,” she nodded. “Except,” she sighed. “This keeps happening,” she showed him her computer. “I’m sorry,” she said. She hated asking Harry about tech. It never bothered him. He was happy to help her, and he gave her tips to better the lifespan of her devices. She knew he would probably still look at it for her, even after all these years.

He tilted his head and sat up more and looked at the blue crash screen analyzing the codes it presented. “Hold on,” he mumbled turning into his IT self and googling the code from his phone. “How often does it do this?”

“Err...like once a day.”

“Kitten,” he admonished. She knew better than that after all of his tips and tricks. “May I?” He asked. She handed it to him.

“I can’t really afford a new laptop right now. My dad said he would get me one when I graduated in a month,” she shrugged.

“How is your family?” He asked while he fiddled with her computer.

“Good,” she nodded. “How’s yours?”

“They’re good. Gemma visits frequently,” he smirked.

“That’s nice, tell her I said hello.”

He was busy clicking through her screens and checking settings on her computers that she didn’t know existed. “Y’should really clean this,” he murmured.

“Er...m’not sure how...you always did it for me,” she reminded him.

He chuckled. “Fair enough, I can do it in the morning if y’have time.”

“I have class at eight,” she told him.

He shrugged. “S’okay...m’usually up at five.”

“Five?” She asked in surprise. “Harry, it’s so late, you should be asleep,” she said with concern in her voice.

He shrugged. “S’okay. Niall and I usually have movie night with friends on Tuesdays,” he said. “S’pretty early t’be in bed right now, on a regular Tuesday night, for me.”

“I interrupted movie night?” She asked quietly.

“That’s what y’took from that?” He smirked.

She was silent for a few moments. “He was out there, wasn’t he? Waiting for me?” She whispered.

Harry didn’t want to answer her question. “Yes.” She nodded and swallowed around a lump in her throat. Biting the inside of her cheek she looked at her hands while Harry took his gaze from her computer to look back at her. “Kitten,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”

“What if you couldn’t have—”

“Love, don’t. I was there. S’okay,” he promised.

“But you might not have been able to...and you shouldn’t have—”

“Baby,” he said softly and put her laptop on the floor beside him. He turned to face her, and he reached for her cheek. He rubbed his thumb over her soft skin. He could feel her melting into the touch and it reminded him of every time he ever touched her and how much he missed that. They were so different now. Older, wiser. Harry still adored her so very much, seeing her name was the first time he thought of her in months and months. Hearing her voice was like hearing a song he forgot about, and it sounded like hearing it for the first time and it sounded so much like angels he was wondering if tripped down the steps of his house and died. Touching her, even if he felt she was in danger, was like magic. It changed something in him. It was familiar and new and all at once. Holding her was warmth and light, something he had forgotten about until that moment. Even in a situation he didn’t want to be in. “I would do anything for you.”

“Still?” She asked with a snort before she could stop it.

Harry rolled his eyes. He brushed his thumb over her cheek again; he would do it all night rather than sleep and then work a full week. If this was the last time he saw her, touched her, smelled her, he would do it for just another minute. “If y’need me, love...that’s...a big deal. Yeah...I would do anything for you.”

“We’re not even together,” she whispered. “Actually...I think you have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he shook his head.

“You’re seeing someone?”

He sighed. “Kitten, I don’t care about anyone but you, right now.”

“I can’t in good conscience—”

“Love, m’not seeing anyone. That’s it,” he said with a touch of frustration in his voice. She was quiet another moment.

“Harry?” She whispered.

“What, kitten?”

“I think I’m going to cry.”

“Oh, love,” he cooed and pulled her toward him. She started to cry and Harry held her against his chest and while he hated the way her tears soaked his shirt, he was so glad he was there to comfort her.

She was anxiously walking into the coffee shop the next day. She knew the chances of him being there again after he was clearly rejected were slim. It didn’t quell her nerves though, as she walked into the shop.

As she settled her things in the back and came to the front to clock in on the register and begin taking orders, she finally noticed the curly brunet locks cozied up in the corner of the shop in an armchair with a book in hand and computer bag at his feet. She blinked. Doing a double take between the customer waiting to place his order and Harry, sitting quietly in the corner, focused on his book and unaware it seemed that she was at work.

As she made the drink requested, she looked at Harry and then her coworker. “Did you see Harry come in?” She asked.

She glanced over at the corner. “Yes.”

There was no more discussion.

At the end of her shift, she went over to Harry in the corner halfway through his book. “Why are you here?”

“I told you I’d do anything for you, love,” he said gently, earmarking his page and closing the book. “Ready t’go?”

She bit her lip and nodded. He stood up, gathering his things and headed for the door.

When Harry came to her shifts over the next week, she thought that this was over the top. He didn’t say anything, didn’t offer any explanation, he was just there. When they left he tucked her neatly into her car and followed her home before she entered her apartment and waved goodbye from the front entrance.

On Sunday, she anticipated seeing Harry in the corner at some point in her morning shift, but instead she was slightly disappointed by not seeing him. She got used to seeing him and more than that wanted to see him.

So when she got into her car and locked her doors before she pulled her phone out.

“’Lo?”

“Are you mad at me?” She asked.

“Kitten?” He responded. It sounded like he was suddenly awake out of nowhere.

“You didn’t come to—”

“Are y’alright? Did he come back?”

“No!” She shook her head as she answered hurriedly. “I’m fine...I just...”

“Love, m’sorry. I...I had something t’do this morning, I figured—”

All at once she felt like the biggest idiot in the world. “Oh my God,” she whispered and covered her eyes. Thank God she didn’t video chat Harry. Thank God she was alone in her car and no one could see the bright red cheeks she was sporting. “Oh my God. Harry. I’m so sorry. I...oh my God,” she shook her head.

Hearing her worried tone, Harry hurried away from his morning plans. “Angel, are you okay?” He repeated. “I can come be there in ten minutes, love. M’worried that—"

“No, m’fine. Really. Please this is mortifying. You're very obviously with someone...and...I’m fine,” she told him. “I feel like—”

"Love, m'not with anyone. Haven't been since we started talking again. Kitten, I want t’see y’too,” he promised. “I’ll be home in ‘bout an hour. Does that work for you?” She nodded, feeling ridiculous as ever. Harry couldn’t see her nodding. But he knew she was. “An hour,” he promised. “I’ll see you then, love.”

She felt stupid once more as she pulled up to Harry’s place and noted Niall’s car wasn’t there, fortunately. At the very least her humiliation would remain just between herself and Harry. Harry met her in the yard almost as soon as he saw her pull up. “I was worried y’were lying,” he admitted and stuffed his hands in his pockets looking at her as she walked toward him.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” she promised crossing her arms in front of her.

“Good,” he smiled gently. “Then...is everything alright?”

“I missed you,” she whispered quietly.

“Yeah?” He murmured.

“Yeah,” she nodded not making eye contact.

Harry tilted her chin up and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lip. “I missed you more,” he said so cutely she could have turned into a puddle of love and mush on his front yard.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded and smiled at her. It was so adorable, so utterly Harry, and made her want to throw herself at him and never let him go.

So she did.

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