#two very long months without her! ive missed writing her so much! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zialltops · 5 months

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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: Howdy Ya’ll! The song for this chapter is Shake the Frost by Tyler Childers! Im not going to lie, after three chapters writing from Joels POV, this chapter was hard to get into at first. Ive always had a vision for the different ways they perceive each other and it was realllly fun to paint two different pictures of the same people from each others POV. So without further ado, the moment we’ve alllll been waiting for, I give you honeys POV.

Masterlink

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4. Shake The Frost

Your life in a nutshell has been…uneventful. Your parents had you into their late thirties, you were their last shot at the child they had always wanted and that was a lot to live up to, being the only surviving member of your family when they are gone and the sole proprietor of the Rising Sun Ranch. It was a lot for one awkward, clumsy girl to take on, but you packed up your bags and moved to the city for just long enough to get a real education in keeping your family's dream alive. When you left this place, you had twenty dollars and a full tank of gas. You had horrible hormonal acne, the same damn braces you’ve had for the past six years and you were the furthest thing from desirable a person could ever get.

You were never very popular in school, but considering your graduating class was a whole eight people, you understood why. Everyone around these parts kept to themselves, passed judgment too quickly and all they ever saw in you was an inelegant, unskilled, ugly little duckling.

Four years away earned you a new outlook on life, the discovery of skincare and a little bit of confidence in yourself, but not nearly enough to hoof it in this cruel world. That's why you found so much comfort in the thought of running home, as much as you would miss your friends from college. Here you weren’t gangly and clueless—you could just be yourself.

Yourself with just…a little bit of alteration. Because two years ago, your mom called you to tell you about the new ranch hands that started working, how much weight it took off their plate. A few weeks later, she told you as much about them as she could, about Joel who was charming and gruff. Tommy, who was kind of strange but a nice boy, how Joel takes care of him and watches out for him. A month after that, your mother calls to tell you how much of a gentleman he is.

Two months later, you call your mom and tell her about the date that stood you up and she tells you how handsome Joel is, how kind his eyes are and how she thinks you would really like him, how much you would hit it off and she wished you’d find someone a little more like that—someone who could appreciate you.

Two years pass the same way, your mom calls you all the time just to talk about Joel and Tommy—you understand it's the most exciting thing that's happened around the ranch in the last twenty years, but the more you talk about it with her, the more you build up this impossible dream about a man you’ve never even laid eyes on. You daydream about going home and meeting him, hitting it off like two old flames. You imagine his eyes in the middle of class and miss half your lecture, you think about the way his voice sounds the few times you accidentally overheard him in the background of your moms calls.

Your best friend and roommate, Melly, tells you that's you’re delusional to make up fake scenarios in your head about a relationship you don’t have with a man you’ve never met, but you’ve already hyper focused on it long before that conversation happens, so getting it out of your head is already out the window by then.

All that build up, all the imaginary things you thought up, the way you’d meet—what you would say to him to catch his attention from the moment he sets eyes on you. All of it is for nothing, because he’s not prince charming like you’d imagined, he’s rude and he left you in the fucking snow to die, when you’d spent so long falling in love with a man that didn’t exist. He avoids you like the plague, like it hurts him to be in the same room with you, thinks you’re this stuck up too good city girl, when you’d been so proud to have your shit together. You’d been so fucking excited to get home and finally put a face to two years worth of ghost like fantasies of a person you didn’t know.

And god did it make you so angry at him, when you’d spent so long wanting to meet him, and he was nothing like you’d expected him to be. What is it about you that repulses him? Every time you leave anything exposed, he’s running away with his tail tucked. You look at him from across the dinner table and he takes his food and leaves. Sometimes you can't help the way your anger gets the best of you, starting arguments just so he’ll talk to you, trying to do things that might impress him even though he thinks you’re the most incapable person in the whole world, apparently.

You help your mom with dinner because you remember her telling you that her chili was Joel’s favorite, so you spent half of the afternoon making it, maybe then you could both move on—something, anything. You watch him from the fridge while he fills his bowl with Tommy and they head off to the dining room. By the time you’ve made your own bowl, hatching a plan to tell him you made this, his spot sits empty and his food is untouched for the rest of the evening.

That night, your dad shows you the statement from the bank, the mortgage is two months behind and they don’t have two nickels to rub together. You cry at the kitchen table for an hour, wondering what you did in a past life to struggle so badly in this one. Of course Joel would catch you there, tear stained cheeks and a desperate desire to curl into that broad chest and sob.

He hightails it out of the house before the real water works come down.

Theres a ache in your chest that doesn’t leave you for days—when you spot him in the stable on Christmas eve, it pounds in your chest worse than ever, it hurts so fucking bad to look at him in that brown coat, that long curly hair and scruffy beard. You want to run out the door across the yard and jump into those strong arms, have him twirl you around in the snowfall and kiss you silly. But that's not plausible, so you turn away from the window and make yourself some hot cocoa to starve off the cold, eating you up from the inside.

On Christmas morning, you watch him shovel from the window of your bedroom, hiding behind the curtain while you think about how much he hates to be around you, he must think you’re so unpleasant and hard to look at, because he never even meets your eyes. It bubbles up so much emotion, you cry angry tears before you can make it out of your room. You wash your face in the bathroom to rid yourself of the evidence and make your way down the stairs.

You’re halfway down the steps when you spot him at the bottom, smiling at himself in the vanity mirror, wearing a goddamned cowboy hat like all your wild fantasies about slipping his hat on your head and riding him until he’s a mumbling mess. You would have changed if you knew he was here—would have put on some clothes so he doesn’t go running out on you again. He takes one look up the stairs at you and your brain goes fuzzy and angry, how dare he look so good when you know you can’t touch, how dare he flaunt it right in your face just to take it away again. Who does he think he is, smiling at you like that when he abandoned the dinner you’d made him at the table the night before?

He tells you Merry Christmas and you want to sock him in the mouth.

You chase him off all on your own this time and the guilt eats you up when you watch him work from the window. He doesn’t stop for a second, just keeps going and going and going while you sit on the couch and listen to Tommy’s insufferable rambling about things you don’t care about. He doesn’t come to dinner, so you make him a plate in the kitchen when your mom comes in behind you. “What are you doing, dear?” You wrap tin foil over the hefty plate and give her a look. “I thought I should bring him dinner…no one deserves to be hungry on christmas.”

Your mom squeezes your shoulder and smiles brightly, waves you off when you head out into the storm with his dinner in your hand.

When you meet him on the porch, sleepy look in his eyes with messy hair, you almost invite yourself inside—hardly fighting off the urge to set that plate down and offer yourself for his Christmas dinner instead.

You're halfway thankful for the half mile walk tugging a one ton heifer behind you, at least this way the cold wills away the throbbing between your legs.

That night, you wrap two fingers in the necklace chain, burry your face in the pillows while you fuck yourself on three fingers wishing they were the man sleeping on your couch instead of your own. You try not to whimper his name when you cum, but it slips right out with a rush of air.

Wanting him—is absolutely killing you.

You want to call it a turning point, finally he can see you as capable of something. By the end of the following two weeks, he’s right back to the way he acted before, but it’s like it’s worse somehow. You come down the stairs with a chipper smile in your favorite pair of Levi’s one morning and he nearly falls out of his chair trying to get away from you. You show up in the stable with your old white straw hat on and he hides in the bathroom for a half hour until you leave, like he’s repulsed by you, like he can’t stand to be around you. Is it something you’re doing? Something you’re wearing? He gets so uncomfortable when you have any skin exposed, you can tell based on the way his eyes will bounce to you then away in a hurry, trying to find something—anything else to keep himself busy. Is it because you're his boss's daughter? Because you’re ugly? Because you’re too young and too inexperienced?

By the end of January, you’ve successfully chased him back to his cabin in the evenings unless you aren’t in attendance. He’s avoiding you again, but at least now you have Tommy, who you would consider a friend, a friend who flirts with you too damn much and drinks way too much alcohol. He’s also lazy and doesn’t take much initiative, Joel does most of the work around here, you’ve noticed. But Tommy listens to you when you talk and he doesn’t run away from you any time you try to make conversation.

This morning, you were in the kitchen when Joel came in, cowboy hat and wranglers that hugged his ass. You walked out of the kitchen in an apron with a bowl of preserved raspberries ready to can. “Mornin’, Joel.” You greeted him with a smile and picked the spoon up out of the bowl. “Want to try some? I’m making jam.” You were about to wash the spoon anyways.

“Uh, no, thank you—I ate this morning.” You shrug and lick the spoon clean with one stripe. Five seconds later, Joel is out the front door with a hurried step, like he can't wait to get away from you. Did your breath stink? Was there something on your face, in your tone? By the time Joel is gone, Tommy comes in like there's a rotating door on the house, constantly filtering out one Miller for another.

“He’s in a hurry.” Tommy laughs, pointing behind him with his thumb. “I think I said something.” You roll your eyes at him and finish off the spoon. “Dang girl, how come you don’t ever lick me like that?” It's a light hearted joke, you know that, but you still slug him in the arm for good measure. “Oh, fuck off, Tommy.” You make your way back to the kitchen to can up the preserves and he follows right behind you. “So I was thinking, Joel is heading into town this mornin’, what do you say we scrounge up some change and grab a bottle of something strong?” You used to drink heavily when you were in college, lots of parties and Friday nights out with friends, but now it's closer to once a month if you’re lucky and you can't remember the last time you were good and drunk. “You know what, lets do it. But you have to ask him.” Tommy makes a pained face and shakes his head. “No, I asked last time—it’s your turn.”

“He’s already pissed at me for no reason, and I don’t even know where he is!” Tommy laughs at you and takes the bowl from your hands. “And besides, I have to pee—why can't you go?”

He pulls the jars out and starts to fill them. “Go ask him and then go pee—I saw him go into the stable.” You huff dramatically and turn on your heel, removing your apron, trying to get rid of your nerves as you head towards the door. What’s he going to do, shout at you? Get angry? Say no? You can handle all of that, you’ve handled it up until now.

When you reach the barn, you search around the stalls with no sign of Joel. Wherever he is, he’s long gone. Whatever you did to him, it was enough to send him running all over again. For the millionth time, you find yourself wishing you could just read his mind, know what it is about you that has him running for the hills any time to approach him.

You pet a few muzzles on your way towards the door, wishing it was spring already so you could ride like you’ve longed to do for the last four years. There's less of a chill today, there hasn’t been a storm in a week, but that’s going to change soon. You could stay out here until Joel shows up, but christ do you need to pee right now, so you take a quick detour to the small bathroom in the corner of the barn. The door doesn’t have a working latch, so it pushes open easily.

You just needed to pee, that's it—just needed to pee but it’s too late by the time the artificial light inside mixes with the sunlight filtering into the barn. Lent over the sink with his hand pressed to the mirror, his other on his cock, stands Joel—his balled up fist working up and back down, those huge hands that look tiny on his dick—holy shit, it’s massive, bigger than you’ve ever seen in real life, bigger than most exaggerated porn videos you’ve watched—he could probably fit both hands around that thing, has to be at least ten inches of just Joel. He must hear your tight gasp, because his hand stills and he whips his head around to look at you, his face flushed with shock and shame. You step away quickly and the door slams shut behind you.

You aren’t sure what it is bubbling up inside of you—anxiety, desire, a bit of curiosity and a whole lot of confusion. You saw him not five minutes ago and he was fine, but now you can hear him scrambling in the bathroom across from where your feet have glued themselves to the floor.

“Fuck! Fuck, Honey, hold on.”

Joel Miller is the most hung man you’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s also the most annoying and hard headed—but all of that flies straight to the back of your mind when he pulls the small door open, having stuffed himself back in his jeans, jesus christ it goes half way down his leg, how does he have any room in there? His chest is absolutely heaving and his face is beat red from embarrassment. “I…I’m sorry, I just needed to use the bathroom.”

His hand reaches down and you follow the movement, how he stuffs it into his pants and adjusts himself. “I can explain—“ you shake your head quickly, eyes bouncing back up to meet his. Fuck, he looks like he’s going to cry right now. “Please spare me the details, I should have…knocked, that's my fault.” What was he doing in the first place? He ran away from you because…because he needed to jerk off? Is that where he’s been going every time he runs away from you?

Did you make him do that? But no—of course not, because Joel hates you, hates you enough to actively avoid you even after buying you the same damn necklace you clutch every night when you sink your hand between your thighs, bite your pillow and attempt to muffle his name on your lips.

Joel doesn’t want you, when you’ve been thrown around every corner trying to hang on to him. He left you in that damn snow and all your mind could think about was how sharp his jaw was, how big his hands were, how angry you were that he robbed you of your fantasy of him.

“I just—I…don’t know what came over me, I didn’t mean for you to see that.” Well of course he didn’t mean for you to see that. “Yeah, no I assumed—I’m the last person you want seeing you—like that. I’m sorry, again.” There's something in his eyes, a deep sorrow woven into his features. “How…how much did you see?”

God, does he really have to go there, when your thighs are pressed as tightly together as you can get them, when heat is pooling between your thighs and you have the urge to run up stairs and lock your door behind you. You reach up for your necklace out of instinct, run your fingers along the chain for an absent sensory input, thinking about the way it feels in your hand when you clutch it for dear life.

“I mean—about all ten inches, I’d say.” Its an easy joke you're hoping will ease the stress of the encounter, but Joel leans back against the walk and his head flops against the wood, eyes closing tight. You take the opportunity to drink your fill, let your eyes really roam over the softening bulge in his jeans. “Nine and a half—I…It’s nothing to…boast about or anything like that. I try not to…let anyone see that.”

See that? The biggest dick you’ve ever laid eyes on? He’s just walking around, hiding it from the world? “Why?” You don’t mean to ask, but how could Joel just walk around all day with a third fucking leg and not tell anyone about it?

“It’s embarrassin’. No one wants anything to do with that, nobody wants to deal with what it entails—I sure as hell don’t. Look, can we please just—please forget this happened? Don’t…tell anyone, please.”

Don’t tell anyone? You can't keep this to yourself? Joel miller, every daydream and fantasy you’ve had for the last two years—you can’t just keep that in if you tried—you have to tell someone. “Yeah, no of course not. This was traumatizing enough for both of us.”

His face drops further and he turns himself away, running his hand over his face—the same hand he just had on his dick—oh, fuck, you have to get out of here before you offer to finish him off, just to see how heavy it would feel in your hands, your mouth, your pussy—“I gotta go—“ you start to head for the door, but you remember why you came in the barn in the first place. “Can me and Tommy come with you to town later?”

He only turns for a moment to gaze at you. His eyes look shinny, his lip is drawn between his teeth because its shaking. Had you really embarrassed him that much?

When he speaks, his voice is tight and wobbly. “Yeah, that's fine.”

You leave as quickly as you came, already pulling out your phone and pulling up your best friend's number. When you get into the house, you make a bee-line for your room, slamming the door behind you while the call goes through. When she picks up on the other end, you’re already rambling. “Girl—hold on, I can't hear you. You’re talking too fast, slow down.”

You take a deep breath, clutch your necklace and try to calm yourself down. “I just walked in on Joel—it was an accident, but dude—dude it was huge.” There's a sharp gasp and a laugh on the other end of the phone. “Wait like, you walked in on him and someone?”

“No—I walked in on him jerkin’ off in the bathroom, he…ran away from me again this morning and Tommy came in right after, asked me to ask Joel if we could go to town with him and when I went to look for him, he was in the bathroom with his hand on literally the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.” Melly, on the other end, is laughing her ass off at you, trying her best not to snort at your bad luck. “This isn’t funny! He was so embarrassed, Mel—he said he doesn’t show it to people!”

She huffs on the other end of the phone. “Then how does he fuck anyone?”

And—well… “I never thought about that. Maybe he just…doesn’t? He seemed so ashamed, I don’t know what on earth there is to be ashamed of.” Ashamed of being blessed? Ashamed you walked in on him? Maybe it was because it’s you and you’re the last person he wants seeing him naked.

“Alright, let me get this straight—he ran away from you and five minutes later you found him beating his meat in the bathroom?” For lack of better words, well, yeah.

“Yes—that’s basically what happened, but it was more like three minutes? Because I wasn't far behind him.”

The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening, then Melly clears her throat. “Have you considered the idea that he runs away from you because you turn him on?”

You? You turn him on? You with your awkward posture and too gangly features? You can't even turn a car on half the time, let alone a grown man like Joel Miller. “Not a chance—he hates me, Mel, we’ve been over this.”

“You’ve been over this—you say he hates you all the time when maybe this whole time he thinks its you that hates him.” But that can't be true, because Joel can’t stand being around you. He hated you from the moment he saw you, hated your stupid fucking shoes you don’t wear anymore, hates that you went to college and lived in a big city and don’t let people walk on you. He hates you because you wanted to look pretty for him and he told you to crawl back to whatever place you came from, not even knowing that place was filled with longing to meet him. “No, you have to see it for yourself. You’re still coming down here for my birthday, right?” It’s in the middle of February, when the snow starts to subside.

She tells you that she is, but that she has to get back to work, so you hang up the phone and let yourself sink into the mattress. Its a lot to process—Joel running away from you to…masterbate, catching him in the act—that dick, Christ, even if you want to fuck him, you aren’t even sure if you’d be able to take him. A little deep dive into the internet tells you that you absolutely can—if you work up to it. With ample time and stretching, you’d be able to work up to that, and should it ever happen, you want it to be easy for him, after all, he seemed so ashamed that you’d seen him like that. He said he doesn’t show people, so that must mean it’s been a while since he’s had sex. That in and of itself, makes your heart ache from him—no matter how much he pisses you off, no one deserves to have the ability to receive pleasure stripped from them for merely having a larger—uh, tool. It’s not his fault he was born that way.

A few wrong turns on amazon and you find a (within your budget) toy that's, you guessed it—nine and a half inches and by the looks of it, the same girth as Joel. There is no other option for you but to purchase it—express mail straight to your doorstep.

And even if you never stand a chance with a six-foot towering cowboy, you can at least pretend for the rest of your life. Maybe that will finally starve off your want, fill that void you’ve had for the last two years longing for a made up man and this version of Joel wearing his skin.

It’s a few more agonizing minutes of thinking about the way he’d looked at you in the mirror when you’d spotted him in that bathroom, before you can actually track back to the before, how into it he was—working himself over quickly with a rough calloused hand and his ragged pant.

Fuck it—you have time, lots of time—Joel is probably going to avoid you for half the day before he heads to town, that is—if he even tells you he’s leaving. So you do what you're best at, roll yourself over to bury your face in the pillow while you sink your hand past your waistband and get to work. Its easy to picture something still so fresh in your mind, the way his shoulders heaved when he drew in a breath, how he would probably feel in your hand, your mouth, you’ll have to practice that too, how he’d probably hold you down and tell you to take it. He’d probably be ravenous if he could get past the hatred part. How long has it been since he’s been inside of someone?

You sink your teeth into the pillow and try to retain the sharp whine in your throat, but when you picture his disdain for you morphing into desire, the way the two would clash together in the most impossible way—it’s easy to bring yourself right to the edge. Easy to let yourself drift into that full bodied bliss that shoots up your spine and blooms at the base of your skull. God, the things he would probably say—the filthy fucking words that were made for that accent—the way he’d call you—

“Honey?”

“Amph-“ your eyes shoot open but its too damn late, that twangy southern draw sounds so fucking good saying your name like that and it’s the final straw, deep shadows of your relief robbing the vision from your eyes as they roll back, hand stilling with just the faintest of muffled whimpers to follow it. Yeah—he’d say your name just like that—just like he did on the other side of your locked door while you get off to the sound of it.

Your first big draws of air when you start to come down are into the pillow, trying your best to stifle the ragged way your lungs fill with oxygen until you’ve caught back up with yourself.

“We’re headin’ out in a few, if you're comin’.”

You pull your hand away and jump off your bed, trying to fix your hair and pull yourself together. One glance in the mirror tells you that this is as good as its going to get. You pull the door open and he’s already trying to find anywhere to else to put his eyes than on you, on your tight workout leggings and crew neck sweater—you aren’t anything special and you just saw his dick a half hour ago, so you understand why he wouldn’t want to look. “I was just, uhm—doing a workout zoom with my friend, you ever done one of those?”

God, did you just say that out loud? A fucking workout zoom, its no wonder this man wants nothing to do with you. “A…zoom workout? No—I get my cardio in before the sun's up. Real fuckin’ weird world you come from.” He turns his body slightly, like he’s trying to make his way out of this conversation but he doesn’t quite know how, so you lead the way. “I’ll just get my shoes on and I’ll be right down.”

He turns back and this time he does look at you, but it's at your feet, then a swift bounce up to your eyes. “You’re wearing shoes.”

One glance down and what do you fucking know—you are wearing shoes—stupid fucking shoes you suddenly hate. You hate that you can't get a single thought through your head when it's swimming in dopamine and adrenaline. Hate that he’s taken up so much space in your brain you can't think straight anymore. “If you don’t want to go because you’re…uncomfortable, you don’t have to stall so that I’ll leave. You can say it.” He holds his chin up bravely, you have to give him props for that. Thirty minutes and he can still hold his head up with dignity when he feels like he needs to stand up to you, but does he have to do it so accusingly? When did you give him the impression that you wanted to stay behind? When you’d asked him if you could go not two minutes after seeing him white knuckling it in the bathroom? When he knocked on your door and talked you through an orgasm without even knowing?

“Why do you always do that?” You cross your arms and feel that attitude creeping up on you. “Do what? Spare myself the humiliation?” The humiliation like he’s not staring you down fresh off a mind boggling orgasm. “No, decide what I’m feeling for me—what the fuck gives you the right to make up my mind for me?”

This bastard, who can pull an argument out of you in an instant—when you’d just been thinking nice things about him. “I’m coming with. Tommy’s promise of hard booze is sounding better and better by the minute.”

He huffs at you and it's all you get for a response. You follow him down the stairs and out to the truck, Tommy is waiting down stairs with a confused look, but you shake your head at him and he tails behind you on the way out the door. Joel moves fast across the snow covered yard, climbing in the already running truck with a slam of the drivers door. “What’s his problem?” Tommy makes a face at you when you stop at the tailgate of the truck. “He’s not in a good mood.” Tommy nods his head and walks over to the passenger door. “Course he isn’t, why would he be?” There's a laugh and he opens the door for you, but he doesn’t get in first—he makes you sit beside Joel, with his knee bouncing and his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He won't look at you, but you can tell he’s riddled with anxiety right now. When Tommy squeezes in beside you, you find yourself pressed up against Joel, from shoulder to his solid thigh.

The drive is uneventful because Joel turns on the radio and he doesn’t say anything. Not for the whole twenty five minute drive, Joel doesn’t make a sound, so you and Tommy sit in the uncomfortable silence and try to ignore the way his fingers tap and flex against the steering wheel. When you get into town, you give Tommy all the money you were able to scrounge up and he runs into the liquor store close to the feed store. You were going to sit in the truck and wait, but Joel leans against the door frame with his hands perched on the roof and his cowboy hat blocking the run from your eyes. “Since Tommy’s preoccupied, you’re gonna have to help me.”

Help him? You? “I have three hundred pounds of feed to load, unless you're afraid you’ll break a nail.” Does he have any idea how that works, that you don’t have long fake nails anymore like you did in college? “Well, I guess it's a good thing they are already busted then.”

Helping Joel load the truck means you get to watch him work, carrying two feed bags to your one, but his shoulders bulge when he lifts and you nearly have to cross your legs to push away the nagging thought. He probably looks so damn built under all those layers, beneath that Carhartt. By the time the truck is loaded, Tommy is back with a half gallon of bottom shelf whiskey that looks like a hangover just waiting to happen.

Joel doesn’t give the bottle a second look, but the ride home is just as quiet as the drive there.

It isn’t until later that night when you and Tommy crack open the bottle. It’s dark, but Joel is nowhere to be seen when Tommy makes a fire in the pit out front of the cabin. Your parents went to bed early and the last thing you wanted to do was keep them up, so you took the long walk to the cabin with a few blankets to keep you warm until the whiskey kicks in.

Thirty minutes of having your feet propped up by the fire while you pass the bottle back and forth and Joel finally comes into view, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he tries to walk straight past the two of you. “Come on man, can’t you join us? Sit by the fire with your brother?”

The older man shoots him a look, one you can't read but Tommy obviously does. “Come on, Joel—Tommy’s going to make me drink all of this by myself.” He steps onto the porch with his back turned, wiping the snow off his boots. “I don’t drink anymore.” Is the only response he gives. Like you hadn’t seen him drunk off his ass before.

Another hour passes before you see Joel again and by that time the half gallon is half empty, sitting between the two of you while you giggle and laugh about stupid humor Joel would probably huff at. Can someone remind you why it's the broody brother you want? Not the slightly asshole-ish one who knows how to take a joke? Tommy doesn’t exactly do it for you—not your type, no drive, no motivation—but he is Joel's brother, the closest thing you ever get to having the real thing.

You wonder if he’d fuck you like Joel would—they are brothers, so Tommy has to be just as well endowed at Joel, right?

Right on que, like he could hear you thinking about him, Joel comes out and stands behind your chairs. “Think you guys have had enough. Last thing I need is to be up all night because Tommy’s pukin’.”

He gives the emptying bottle a tap with his foot and you glance up at him. “Oh, come on, Joel—why are you always such a fun sucker? You just hate seeing people smile, is that it? Is it bad for maintaining your shitty mood?” Tommy laughs beside you and you ride off that chuckle, but not for long. “And here I thought alcohol would make you plaint, but I guess it just makes you more of a bitch.”

If your head wasn’t swimming in booze right now, you’d probably swing at him, but you aren’t coordinated enough for that right now, so you settle on a hard glare. “I don’t know man, I think I have a good idea of how she gets when she’s drunk.”

Joel's eyes shoot over to him like he already knows exactly where this is going. “Bet you get real feisty, huh? Whiskey always makes girls want it—get’s um horny.” When he talks, he’s looking straight at you—if Joel wasn’t standing right beside you, you probably couldn’t have the courage to hold his younger brother's gaze like that. You want it right now, god you do, but not from the brother that's asking.

“You’ve got no idea,” you tell him and Tommy smirks at you, then up at his brother who’s gone stiff. “Is it me or him? Because this one doesn’t look too willing to give you any kind of sugar.”

Joel downright growls at his brother. “Knock it the fuck off, Tommy—she’s a lady.” A lady that wants him to bend her in half and stuff her full right now—no matter how much it might hurt. “No she ain’t! A lady doesn’t drink half a bottle and want to fuck.”

There's a hard thud behind you and when you look at Tommy, he’s holding the back of his head where Joel smacked him. “I’m walkin’ her home.” He tells his brother, but doesn’t once ask what you want. It’s been too long, been way too long since someone touched you—and it might be the alcohol in your system or the desperation for a Miller that sends you down this path, but both directions lead you to the same destruction.

“Like fuck you are! You aren’t my dad, Joel—you don’t get to decide what I want all the time. If I want to drink half a bottle and fuck your brother, then you’re going to have to suck it up and listen through the damn wall.”

Joel’s look of anger quickly morphs into something you’ve never seen on Joel Miller—fear. Oh—yeah, you struck a nerve on that one. What does he think? You’re going to soil his baby brother? Does he really look down on you that much, that he’s afraid of you sinking your claws into Tommy? You don’t want Tommy, you want Joel, but you’ll never have that—so you grab Tommy by the hand, yank him up until he’s standing on equally wobbly feet before pulling him down to meet your mouth. He tastes like whiskey and it's nothing to write home about. There's no electricity, no real desire on your part. But you know you hit your mark when there's hard footsteps headed towards the house and a hard slam of the front door.

Tommy gets into it fast, his hands on your hips and his teeth nipping at your lips like he’s as desperate for you as you are for his brother. “Let’s go inside,” he hums and you agree—you’re already this far and you want to make Joel feel what you’ve felt for the past twos months, all this anger and bitterness, why the fuck doesn’t he want you like you want him.

“Do you think he’ll hear us, through the wall?” Tommy pulls away and makes a face of confusion. “Do you want him to?”

Do you? Want him to hear the way you could moan and gasp for him? The way you could beg him for more, deeper, harder? Absolutely. “Yeah—I want him to hear it.”

It's a rough and awkward tumble to his room, you fall against the wall and Tommy does his best to keep you up straight. The door beside Tommy’s room is closed and the light is off, but you can't hear anything inside.

You try not to think—try your hardest not to imagine Joel instead of his brother, but it's a futile attempt. All you can see right now is Joel with his cock in his hand lent over the bathroom sink and how much you wanted to get on your knees for him right then and there. “Can I suck your dick?” Tommy groans from where he stands at the end of the bed, you propped against his pillows, both of you in the midst of discarding your clothes. You get down to your panties and underwear by the time Tommy is left in just his briefs. “Yeah-fuck yeah, you can.”

It’s good, it’s working for you—until he drops his underwear and you’re left…underwhelmed. “You aren’t as big as him?” If it wasn’t for the alcohol in your system, you probably wouldn’t have said it in the first place—but how could you not? He’s half the size of his brother, if you’re being generous. He’s still decent sized, you’ve had bigger, but you cant help the pang of disappointment that you won't be able to pretend just for now.

“I—no, wait you saw it?” You wince and Tommy pulls his boxers back up, suddenly the room is filled with something other than desire. “It was an accident—I didn’t mean to, but I just thought…you’re brothers and all.”

Tommy sighs, turns himself and sits down at the end of the bed with his head in his hands. “You don’t want to do this with me.” He says. “I didn’t say that—“ he shakes his head at you and turns enough to look at you. “You’re disappointed that my dick isn’t as big as his—you don’t want this with me. I don’t want to fuck you while you’re imagining my brother.”

Okay—ouch, that one stung. But you can't argue a point because you have no truth behind it even if you tried. You were going to imagine him—press your hands to the wall and imagine you were on the other side of it. “I’m sorry, Tommy…It’s not you, I promise…you’re a good friend and you’re a nice guy, I just…”

He smiles at you and it eases some of your anxiety. Tommy might not be Joel, but he is a good friend. “It’s okay, I can see it…Don’t think I could take somethin’ that's already his.” But you aren’t, his, after all. He doesn’t look at you like that, doesn’t want you—doesn’t want to touch you like this when he’s so busy despising you.

“He doesn’t want me like that, Tommy.”

Doesn’t want to see you like this in his bed, half naked and begging for him. “How do you know that?” You fiddle your hands with the band of your underwear, where a string is fraying on the edge. “He hates me…can’t even stand to look at me, he’s made that pretty clear.”

Tommy chuckles slowly and tosses you his shirt. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Honey. Try, you might surprise yourself.”

You pull the shirt on and curl up on the pillow, letting your head swim in the whiskey that's starting to take its toll on you now. “Sleep in here tonight, won't try anything—I promise.”

He takes the spot beside you and you smile sleepily, pulling the blanket over the top of you. “Thanks Tommy.”

Sleep comes easy when you’ve drank as much as you have tonight and you try not to think about the other side of this wall.

In the next room, Joel sits fully clothed at the end of his bed with his head in his hands, trying his damndest to stop the tears burning his eyes and tracking down his face.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel the last of us #archive of our own #joel tlou #cowboy joel #dbf joel miller

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mikarchive2 · 1 year

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books i read in march 2023 📚

( trying the read more thing for the first time ever cause this is so long hope it works 💖 )

1. the hurting kind by ada limón - ★★★★★ - goddamn it, i really cant decide between four and five stars here . but at the end of the day, even though i cant say i loved every single poem, the collection as a whole is so full of life and defiant grace i just cant resist rounding up . ada limón has to be one of the best nature poets ive read so far ( cant wait to reread some of these poems outside when spring begins to feel like spring ), and also one of the few who can truly make this blunt and direct writing style work . if i were to talk about every poem i enjoyed, id be here all day but shout out to foaling season specifically that one hit me almost physically

2 + 3. the sandman: the kindly ones ( vol. 9 ) + the sandman: the wake ( vol. 10 ) by neil gaiman - all the stars in space . to me - if i loved it less, i might be able to talk about it more . shrimp emotions dont even begin to describe everything these last two volumes make me feel . i say this all the time though + there is not much else i can say without spoiling things, so . i dont know . just read it . the one thing i want everyone to take from this blog is that they should read it

4. panics by barbara molinard - ★★★★ - i think i found this thanks to lees ( stephaniesays1968 ) storygraph ... one of the instances in which the story behind how something was written is almost more interesting than the writing itself . barbara molinard was known for destroying her work and this is the only book she ever published - and being aware of that does make the stories even more haunting . or haunted perhaps . very madwoman in the attic, very surrealistic, recommending this to those who enjoy kafka and shirley jackson

favourites: the plane from santa rosa, the fathers apartment, untitled ( isolated fragments, liberty ), taxi, the sponge, im alone and its night, the vault

5. serious concerns by wendy cope - ★ - i expected this collection to have roughly the same energy as the famous orange poem, but instead it was just very ... english wine mom after her fourth divorce . though undeniably witty, occasionally funny and even somewhat subversive, the ever-present vibe of cynical pragmatism made it completely unenjoyable for me . however, wendy copes wikipedia page claims that her later collections are different so perhaps i just started in the wrong place ? i wouldnt want to discourage anyone from giving this collection or author a try, but personally i simply dont share her sense of humor

6. contemplation by franz kafka - ★★★ - i spontaneously picked up the czech translation during a slow day at work and ... well, it sure helped pass the time ! i have no idea how i feel about kafkas fiction to be honest - on the one hand he is so much more than the sadboy people tend to reduce him to and there is certain joie de vivre in his writing, on the other hand i find his style ... dry . ( saying that feels like a crime ) this was a pretty hit-or-miss collection for me, but i feel more motivated to read more of his work now, so . a win is a win

favourites: the sudden walk, excursion into the mountains, passers-by, on the tram, clothes, rejection, reflections for gentlemen-jockeys, the street window

7. howls moving castle by diana wynne jones - ★★★★ - this was so whimsical and chaotic and just bursting with creativity . way more down-to-earth than i expected, but it was almost healing to see these really flawed characters loved and happy . im so excited to watch the movie now, unlike everyone else i didnt feel much for book howl ( i just kept thinking he needs a fancam set to womanizer ) but perhaps i will fall for his movie version ? we will see . im very intrigued by diana wynne jones' style, it made the story seem as if it was writing itself ... cant wait to read more ! and recommend her work to every child i run into

up next: i said this last month, but i need to read my silly little college textbooks for real this time, so i should take a little break from this weird marathon reading i seem to be doing . anyway i hope to slowly get thru weavers, scribes, and kings by amanda h. podany ( finally ! nonfiction ! ) and um . well . there is still the prequel to the sandman . and a few spin-offs that seem interesting . and i downloaded stardust the other day because i love actively making my parasocial relationships worse . i should disclose that im horrible at planning though, so chances are i will just read ten completely random books again instead of any of these . love and light

#📚#booksletter

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babithyn · 7 months

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august 27th, 2023

tw~ ed/mental health/rant

Its been a while… im currently 31weeks pregnant. this pregnancy has been extremely difficult.

Ive had a lot of stuff happen within the past four months. I moved in with my boyfriend. I got put on medical leave from work. My cars engine flooded. My mental health plummeted. My ED has reared its ugly head. Its just been a lot.

I feel like a burden to my boyfriend. He pays all the bills while all i do is sit at home. I have no source of income so i cant contribute to anything. I’ve been relying on my mom to pay my phone bill. Relying on my boyfriend to keep a roof over our head. all i can contribute is food stamps which i only got approved for last month.

In my 2nd trimester i started binge eating… im not sure if it was the change in my body or just my binge ED hitting me full force. but now that im in my 3rd trimester im barely eating one meal a day. Again i cant tell if its the pregnancy or my ED.

I fo know that my body dysmorphia is extremely bad at the moment. I cant even look at myself i. the mirror without crying. Logically I know im just pregnant but a voice in the back of my head is screaming at me that im fat and that its not just me being pregnant…

Im so sad all the time. And i honestly just want a hug and some comforting words. but i know i cant get that. My bf gets mad when i cry or even just say im sad. So at night when he’s sleeping i just silently cry next to him. or while he’s at work or the gym i sob uncontrollably.

We have some really bad fights sometimes that just destroys me. He says things like “i dont even really know you” or “you barely know me”… … … weve been together for almost 9months now. I’ve been so open with him from the beginning i even recently opened up to him about my ED when we first started dating. I try to tell him small stuff about me and it feels like he doesnt pay attention. He doesmt open up very much to me but i know a decent amount about him. of course we will never know everything about the people we love. there is always something to learn about the people we love and care about. shit im still learning things about my own mom and she’s my mom.

It sometimes feels like he doesnt want to be with me… like the only thing keeping him with me is our unborn daughter… which hurts because i love him so much… And recently he hasnt wanted to be intimate with me… which if course not only hurts but it makes me doubt myself. and i already feel ugly and fat but now… it just feels so much more real.

I crave affection from him so much that last night i had a dream that we went on a cute date. we got matching shoes and we held hands with each other and he called me pretty. but of course even my dream decided to attack me because right before i woke up a random person in my dream walked up to me telling me i was a horrible girlfriend. so my cute dream turned into a nightmare real quick. as per usual…

i miss my dogs… i know random and stupid to most people. but my dogs are my everything. i love them more than anything. Ive raised them since they were puppies. ive had dogs my entire life. there wasnt one second of my life where i didnt have at least one dog in my house.

And dogs lives are so short that being away from my babies for so long is painful.

October 24th, 2023

I never got to finish this post. I don’t remember why but I opened tumblr and it was the first thing i saw.

To continue what I was saying. I miss my dogs. And thats doubled even more now. Since writing this I’ve lost two of my dogs.

My 16 year old golden retriever passed due to old age. She wouldve been 17 this month. Ive had her since she was a puppy so even though it was expected it doesn’t hurt any less.

I also lost my 7 year old chihuahua. She got attacked by two other large dogs and the only way we wouldve been able to save her was with a $7k experimental surgery. I broke down and begged my followers on instagram, snapchat, and tiktok for help. But was only able to raise $50 between gofundme and cashapp. The next morning she passed and i was distraught.

Not only did i lose another one of my best friends but i still owed $3k in vet bills. I didnt take it well and a month later i still sob thinking about her. Shit i cant even type this without crying.

It’s been hard.

My due date is this saturday and im not okay if I’m being honest. I feel like im going to have really bad postpartum depression.

I feel lost. It’s hard to comprehend that im going to be a mom. That im going to have a little human dependent on me for the rest of my life.

Do that get me wrong, I love her. I love her so much already… but am i going to be a good mom? Am I going to raise her well? Are me and my boyfriend going to be good parents. Are we going to be able seal with the stress together?

There are so many variables that have me scared, stressed, and anxious.

On another note my body dismorphia makes me want to die. I have gained almost 70lbs this pregnancy. at my highest i weighed 248lbs. Ive lost 8lbs which i dont know how to feel about. So my current weight is 240lbs without fasting.

I hate it. And it hurts because I can see it. I physically can see the fat right bellow my gigantic baby bump. I can see the outrageous amount of stretch marks. I can feel the fat and stretch marks and not just when i tough them with my hands. The stretch marks sting, they feel like cuts on my stomach. It almost feels like fresh SH cuts.

This whole year has been traumatizing. This whole pregnancy has been traumatizing. Ive always wanted more than one kid but at this point i dont think my mental health could handle another pregnancy.

I have a feeling Im going to relapse with my ED after I give birth. I already have the urges to do so. Which isn’t good because I recently became hypoglycemic again.

To those who font know what that is. It’s pretty much early onset diabetes. Which was caused by my ED.

Ive struggled with binge eating, an0r3x14, and bul1m14 since the early age of 9. Going back and forth between the three on since.

That’s caused my blood sugar to be unable to regulate like a normal person. If I dont eat for longer than 5hours my blood sugar drops into the 40’s (normal is between 70 and 100) and when I eat the highest its gotten was 150 and thats after eating practically straight sugar.

So in simple terms my body produces to much insulin which can make me insulin resistant in the future.

i know this was long and all over the place. Especially since its months of stress thats piled up. I could type more but im honestly exhausted and will probably just make a separate post at a later date.

As always thank you for coming to my ted talk. Be safe take care of yourselves much love 🖤🖤🖤

#4norexi4 #notprojustusingthetags #ana trigger #disordered eating thoughts #tw ana diary #tw ed diet

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sorryimanon · 3 years

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Pairings: Bakugou x fem!Reader

Tags: 18+, dirty talk, explicit scenes, mutual masturbation, penetration, bakugou being a switch, reader is a dom, lots of back and forth between characters, slow burn

A/N: this was supposed to be divided into two parts but surprise, surprise! i got lazy :) i had so much writing this. this might be my favorite fic ive written so far! this is a loooong one. enjoy!

P.S this is the unedited ver. I will posting the final on my AO3 account (sorryimanon)

Katsuki disliked her. No, he absolutely loathed her. Ever since she stepped foot into the classroom, it was destined for there to be a hostile barrier between the two of them. Granted, all she did was sweetly greet him like the rest of her fellow classmates, but Katsuki completely saw through her fading facade and ignored the kind gesture with a threatening showcase of his quirk.

"Being nice won't get you anywhere, baka," he snarled, glaring intensely at her all the while everyone watched the whole scene unfold.

He treated her like a foolish peasant after that initial encounter, disregarding her in any way shape or form as disgust shone through his eyes.

Y/N persevered the oncoming school years despite the blonde breathing down her neck consistently everyday. Katsuki's aggressive nature towards her subsided once graduation commenced, alluding to the blossoming maturity each student should have endured before branching off into hero work.

Not long after the celebratory succession, y/n bounced to several agencies that offered the same beneficial agreements for her. None caught her attention. Until one day she received a recommendation from Endeavor himself to work full time at his agency. Of course she accepted it and immediately wrote her sloppy signature down on the contract. Unbeknownst to her excitement, a separate copy of the contract was sent to another uprising hero around her age group.

So when she strutted in that morning of orientation, she never expected to see the very infamous Katsuki Bakugou slouched on one of the many chairs in the meeting room. Her throat tightened as she took a seat next to him, his height still freakishly tall even when they were just sitting. Staring straight forward to prevent from any means of eye contact with him, he lowered his head at her eye level and crooked a half smile.

"I'm gonna make you regret for even considering joining here, extra." A fleck of his spit hit the side of her face. Learning from her past encounters with Katsuki, y/n held her tongue in hopes for him to feel satisfied enough to leave her alone.

Thankfully their office hours were inconsistent to where they didn't intervene with each other, neither of them awkwardly meeting in the lobby or an elevator. However, sometimes y/n and Bakugou would desire the same craving for a caffeinated beverage and find themselves standing shoulder to shoulder by the coffee machine.

Bakugou likes his coffee black, she mentally jotted down as she intently watched his usual routine of preparing the beverage.

Like the asshole he is, Bakugou would purposely tip the mug and let a few trickles of the hot liquid burn her hand. He's done this every single time before he leaves y/n alone in the break room. Deep down, he relishes in the strained expression on her face when he inflicts the pain upon her. Thoughts danced across his head. Some involving him blasting y/n into the stratosphere to her kissing the tips of his boots for mercy. Either way, her being so submissive and, dare he say, a pussy to stand her ground sufficed him enough for the time being. But sometimes it pissed him off.

The constant harassment by the angry blonde went unnoticed by their other colleagues, including Endeavor, leaving y/n to prepare every morning to face the wrath of Katsuki Bakugou. His verbal abuse never wavered, occasionally whispering under his breath "weakling" or "stupid girl" whenever the pair were in the same room together. One time he sent her on a wild goose chase to find a missing case file that miraculously disappeared from her desk while she was copying something in the other room. Hours later, she soon discovers the said file tucked behind Katsuki's arm, snatching it from his grip and not once reprimanding him for wasting her time. Y/N eventually got used to it. Adapting to the annual insults of her work ethics and anything he could muster up from his sleeve. Both finally accepted their twisted dynamic, and became accustomed to the work lifestyle.

Months later, the dynamic soon changed when Endeavor announced an emergency meeting with everyone in the building. Apparently a new wave of villains have been reigning terror over the city, causing major damages and fatalities in a matter of weeks. Rumors started to circulate that the new generation of heroes don't have the capabilities to apprehend this group of evil doers. In the meeting, Endeavor made it clear for everyone to be partnered up before he dismisses them to patrol for the night, suggesting that pairing up with someone who is complimentary to your quirk is efficient for when dealing with these kinds of villains.

That's why y/n didn't voice her complaint when she inevitably got matched with Bakugou. His quirk alone was powerful already. With both of their quirks combined, there's no telling how the mission will go, but she surprisingly feels safe knowing he'll be sticking by her side throughout the rest of the night. It'll be a quick mission, then they'll return back to their previous mundane duties in the office. Back to Katsuki's mental and verbal torment.

"Could you move any slower?" Katsuki barked as both he and y/n were taking a quick stroll through the public park, scoping out for any signs of danger.

She was a step behind him, careful not to bump his shoulder or invade his space. She mumbled out a quick apology and fastened her pace, catching up to the man in gear. Tonight he wore his alternative hero costume, the design made specifically for when the temperature reaches an undesirable degree. The collar touched below the tip of his chin, his chiseled chest covered with the thick black material, and his arms protected from the cold with the addition of sleeves.

"Fucking weakling..." she heard him mumble once they circled the perimeter again.

Bakugou insisted for them to scout out as many places as possible in hopes for an encounter. He desperately needs any excuse for some action, to use his quirk out of anger. Previously, they patrolled the empty plaza of Tatoone shopping center. Other heroes were there as well, but still no signs of any villains lurking in the dark. For the third time, they met up at the center of the park after making another round, both already tired of the tedious task.

"Just our fucking luck. Still no signs of those stupid villains. I guess we should patrol the outskirts of-."

A bright luminescent beam struck the middle of Bakugou's chest cavity, ricocheting him backwards to slam against the trunk of a large tree, knocking him unconscious instantly. Startled, y/n's eyes frantically searched for the perpetrator, only to meet a pair of glowing green orbs staring right back. She shifted her stance in preparation for their next attack, blocking Bakugou's lifeless body from the villains view. Another beam shot from the darkness, only this time y/n counter balanced the blow by rolling to side, the blast missing her by a couple of feet. Y/N quickly raised to her feet and ran head first towards the dark figure. Without preamble, the figure shot multiple beams at the hero, each one emitting from the void of their chest.

Y/N dodged the bright suffocating strips of light, her feet shuffling and heart racing due to the adrenaline rush. However, she miscalculated her next move which allowed the figure to strike her left shoulder when she was distracted for a split second. Pain shot throughout her shoulder blade. Eyes drawn to a close, her hand shot up to cradle the injury. The intense sensation started to spread from the upper half of her body to below. Everything suddenly became numb, including her sensors. She couldn't feel the tips of her digits nor move any part of her face. The muscles in her legs soon stopped contracting, resulting in her knees giving out. She felt the hard, coarse ground beneath her as the darkness began to swallow up her line of vision. The last thing she saw was a scuffed up Bakugou laying face flat on the drenched grass.

- Y/N stirred awake, lifting one of her half lidded eyes expecting to see the villain looming over her tired body. But all she saw was the popcorn ceiling sheltering her, an overhead fan turned on and the curtains tightly shut. She slowly inclined her body upright and peeled the covers from her clammy figure. Still in the process of waking up, she made her way to the attached bathroom by the bed and located the sink. She splashed the cold water on her face, letting the droplets drench the clothes she was currently wearing. Turning off the facet, she craned her head to view the damage on her shoulder in the mirror. But how come she couldn't recognize herself?

Tuffs of blonde spiked out from her head. Her eyes weren't the same color either. Red crimson irises replaced the ones she had before. The injury from last night on her shoulder wasn't there no more, but she took sight at how broad they became. And she wasn't wearing her typical pajama top and bottoms. This morning she was clad in a black tank top and a pair of soft sweat pants.

No, this can't be true. This has to be some sick nightmare. Jolting backwards on her heel, she let out a terrible shriek. After screaming for a good minute, she calmed down and rested her hands on the bathroom counter, transfixed on the reflection in front of her.

"I-I somehow transformed into Bakugou!" The deep timbre voice of bakugou replaced her own. She tugged on the unkept hair and knitted her eyes shut. "This is only a dream. I'm dreaming right? I can't possibly be in Bakugou's body."

A loud ringing noise alerted y/n to open her eyes again. It was coming from her bedroom. Correction, his bedroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror one more time before retrieving the phone that was stuffed in a green duffel bag. Her eyes widened. She recognized her phone number on the screen. Knowing the circumstances, she pressed answered and awaited for the receiver on the other end to speak.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

"So, we somehow switched bodies because of being struck by that villains quirk the other night. How long did they say this will last then?" Y/N questioned Bakugou the following morning once they agreed to meet up somewhere in private. Right now they were sitting across from each other on a stone bench by the lake, the morning sun peaking through the tall skyscrapers behind them.

Bakugou shrugged his shoulders, technically hers, and said, "Endeavor informed me it'll probably linger for a good week. He also wanted us to not be on duty till we recuperate from this, saying that the side effects will drain our bodies." He couldn't muster up the courage to stare at her, because all he would see is the reflection of himself. "Unfortunately the villain fled the scene before the others arrived to retrieve us. They're still out there causing havoc."

"This is freaking weird."

"Fucking."

Y/N tilted her head in confusion. Across from her, Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration.

"If you're gonna be me for a whole week then you might as well not sugar coat my vocabulary-dumbass."

Right, she now has to devote her time and effort into mirroring Bakugou's explosive personality. But that also means he too has to put on a show in order to persuade everyone he was her.

"Oh, okay..." she started but tensed up when realizing Bakugou was gazing expectantly at her. "D-Dumbass?"

Katsuki groaned as he rolled his eyes at her failed attempt of portraying him.

"This is going to be a long ass week."

- Bakugou grunted in disgust as he scavenged through y/n's closet for something to wear. Every piece of clothing so far hasn't met his criteria of approval to put on his body. There was an unnecessary amount of yoga pants and the most ugliest oversized graphic tees he's ever laid his eyes upon stored in her drawer. Growing up in a household of highly praised designers, the influence shifted his taste in fashion over the years. So, he made the rational decision to make a quick trip to the mall and purchase a few outfits for himself. Considering he's going to be in this body for a whole week, maybe even more, he might as well present himself looking ten times better than she ever has.

He tittered around the mall window shopping, entering store after store leaving with a handful of clothes in plastic and paper bags. So far he bought some outfits that edged a little on the fancy side, but paid no mind to his bank account. Bakugou guesstimated y/n's size during the venture, not wanting to pry or see what's underneath these restricting fabrics. He was about to leave when a frilly-pink themed store caught his attention.

It's a lingerie store, Bakugou thought as he neared closer to the entrance.

Posters inside the displays showcased attractive half naked women clad in nothing but the delicate material. Not to mention they were all posing seductively. An involuntary image of y/n flashed across his eyes, her imitating the same lustrous pose as well as wearing the sheer lingerie like the women behind the glass. Steams of heat practically blowed out from his ears, along with the embarrassing shade of pink panting his cheeks. He clamped a hand on his mouth, eyes widen in disbelief.

The fuck did I just imagine? There's no way in hell that just happened!

He must've been loitering there for awhile because a young girl, possibly his age, was standing in the threshold of the store wearing a pastel pink apron, giving him a welcoming smile.

She spoke, "Looking to shop for something, ma'am?"

Remembering back to y/n's distasteful clothing, he noted that she also lacked having any 'pretty' undergarments. It wasn't that he intentionally raided through her underwear, he just so happen to have stumbled upon the almost empty drawer by accident. In retrospect, he's doing her a favor. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Yes actually. Can you show me your most expensive set?" - "To your left! That dudes been camping by that spot since the match. He'll snipe you in the open!" Kirishima informed y/n as they both sat criss cross on the cushioned couch.

They've been playing the same game for hours. Y/N prayed for at least one water break or grab something quick to eat since they haven't moved an inch from their spots. Kirishima promised after this match he'll order some takeout for the both of them, but he said the same thing 8 matches ago. All she could do for now was pretend to be immersed in the game, getting a couple of impressive kills here and there, subsequently ranking her to a bronze level. Her digits were beginning to cramp up due to the repetitive moments of smashing down on the labeled buttons on the wireless controller. The screen across from them suddenly went dark and flashed the scoreboard from the recent match. Another successful victory.

"BOOYAAA!!!!" Kirishima clapped his hands and did a celebratory dance. "Ah, good game Bakugou."

Y/N flinched from hearing the blondes name.

"Kirishima, it's Y/N," she reluctantly reminded him.

Kirishima's whole demeanor went south. He chucked out a dry laugh and nervously started rubbing the back of his neck.

"R-Right sorry. Couldn't help myself. I mean, I am looking at Bakugou. Same face, voice, hair, and scary eyes."

After being battered by the villains quirk, Kirishima and Sun Eater were the ones to retrieve them before law enforcement shortly arrived once the perpetrator fled the scene. They were all under one strict oath to not mention this to the public, or else everyone’s image will tarnished and skew the potential of our future rankings.

"I know. I'm still trying to process this whole thing. I've been avoiding all the mirrors in the apartment since I came back." Y/N stood up from the couch and sauntered over to her designated bedroom for the week. She reached for the door handle but stiffened when a pair of hardened hands rested on her broad shoulders.

"Aye, don't worry so much. I bet you Bakugou is thinking the same thing. This week will be over before you know it," he absentmindedly began massaging the area between your shoulder blades and neck.

Does he always treat Bakugou like this despite that nasty little Pomeranian being a complete asshole to everyone?

"Kirishima?"

"Yeah?"

"What is Bakugou like around you?"

The red head hummed to himself at the random question, thinking of a perfect answer to her curiosity.

"The same how he was in high school except more tamer I guess. But I enjoy his presence none the less."

Then why does he seem to unleash his untamed feelings towards me specifically?

Y/N sighed, obviously not satisfied with that answer.

"Out of everybody, he seems to despise me more and more like it's a game," she said without realizing.

"You know how he is Y/N. He's very abrasive and blunt when it comes to other people's emotions, but deep down I know he only acts like that because he wants to present a strong image in front of everyone," he started. "He's scared of others looking down on him, I know that for sure. But I always looked up to Bakugou from the day I personally got to know him. So, I guess he just stayed by my side because of my admiration for him."

Bakugou is always putting up a front then.

"Interesting...well I'm gonna go to bed now. Thanks for keeping me company," y/n said once again reaching for the knob and opening the door, ignoring the red heads pleas for her not go to sleep on an empty stomach. -

The next day Bakugou found himself inside y/n's bathroom, feet firmly planted on the tiled floor not daring to move an inch. Even though he wasn't in his own body that didn't stop him from paying a visit to the gym this morning. He went extra hard on every machine, not caring about the wandering eyes men gave him while he dead lifted weights. Drenched in nothing but his own glistening sweat, Bakugou entered y/n's small apartment as he dragged his tired feet to the bedroom he was now familiarized with.

Something foul wafted into his nostrils, almost making him teary eyed to the stench. He tried to recall the last time he took a shower. Vaguely he remembers washing his body the morning before he got attack by the powerful quirk. It's been several days since then. This was one thing he didn't want to endure during his experience of switching bodies. He's been neglecting his own hygiene to avoid seeing y/n's exposed body parts. Changing out from her clothes with closed eyes was difficult enough, but taking a fucking shower?! Such a shitty predicament. But he can't smell like this for the remainder of being stuck in this body. He'll die of suffocation.

Ah fuck, that must mean she has to take a shower as well. Or worse, she already has and saw everything.

His eye twitched, lips trembling in fear at what he's about to witness.

Fuck it, I can't go out smelling like shit!

With shaky fingers he began stripping, eyes trained on anything but y/n's figure, the faint sound of the water streaming white noise to him. Her gym clothes piled on the floor, Katsuki slipped into the shower, head titled slightly to view only the shower head. He messed around with the chrome handle, indecisive on what temperature he wanted. Settled onto cold to awaken his sluggish state, he positioned himself under the shower head, goosebumps prickling his skin due to the sudden drop of temperature. Water droplets streamed down and canaled to his lower regions, the sensation relaxing his anxiousness just a smidge. He surveyed the options y/n had laid out for hair care products and grabbed the nearest one. Rubbing the body wash into the palms of his hands, he caught himself, arm mid raised getting ready to wash each crevice of his body.

Shit shit shit shit

The hand in front of him began shaking.

She won't know. It's not like I'm touching her sexually, I'm just keeping her clean for fucks sake!

As gentle as he could, Bakugou washed away the soapy residue, fingers cautiously ghosting over anything perking out. A moment too soon, he accidentally skimmed over her chest a little too fast, the tips of his fingers touching something that was hard and protruding. His breathing hitched.

I just felt her fucking nipple!

But fuck, it strangely felt quite pleasant. Pleasurable even if he had to admit.

He continued on with his previous ministrations, cupping her boobs like a madman and swiping one thumb over the taunt surface to test the waters. A fierce, tingling sensation surged shivers down his spine. An unsolicited low moan spurred out from the blonde.

"Hah!"

What the hell?! Why am I still touching her tits? And why am I enjoying it?

Finishing up his routine quickly, Bakugou snatched a towel from the cabinet and rubbed away all the sinful thoughts desperately from his head, a constant fight between his morals and neediness. Nobody will never know what he committed in the confines of her own apartment. And it'll fucking stay like that till on his death bed.

I practically assaulted her. I'm so fucking disgusting

For the rest of the remaining day, Bakugou planned on meeting up with Kirishima to hangout. He wanted to coerce the red head into talking about anything other than y/n. His mind needs the relief. He needs this spell to be over with.

He can't stand trying to fit into women's jeans any longer - Kirishima woke up that morning to a chorus of shrieks. Girlish shrieks, might he add. He thought maybe the neighbors were selfishly doing not-so-holy-things at the peak of dawn. But him and Katsuki were resided on the highest level of the penthouse, them being the only residents on the empty floor. It clicked once he heard his name through the thin walls.

"Ah! Y/N I'm coming!" He leaped from his bed and reached y/n's, technically Bakugou's, room in a matter of seconds.

Y/N's body twitched to the sound of the door being slammed open, the impact rattling the very few wall decorations in the blondes space. Standing in the threshold was the friendly red head, huffing and puffing air out of his chest like he just got done running a marathon.

"K-Kiri! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you up!" Her words afterwards became a jumbled mess, realizing the predicament she pushed herself into.

"Hey, hey, calm down! Tell me what's wrong. It sounded like you were in pain. Did you hurt yourself anywhere?" The red had to remind himself this was indeed another person inside Bakugou's body, because Bakugou would never apologize repeatedly for the sake of apologizing in his entire life.

Y/N was looking quite pallid now, sheepishly tugging on the black covers of the bed, trying to find the easiest way on how to lay this out to her new roommate.

"Well...I just...I woke up to - ah crap."

Instead of explaining her situation, she pulled back the blanket to show kiri the thing protruding between her uncommonly, muscular legs. Kirishima's eyes widen instantaneously, eating up the pitched tent inside her basketball shorts. Oddly enough, this wasn't his first rodeo upon seeing the blonde with a boner. They were dudes. And dudes living together were bound to witness each other's 'flesh swords', he'd like to put it.

"Oh, morning wood? That's pretty normal. Nothing to fret y/n!" He dismissed her with the wave of his hand. "Bakugou gets them all the time! In fact, I remember he'd get them after sparring sessions back in our U.A days-."

"Okayyyyy, Never mind that! I know I have a boner. Just exactly how do I get rid of it?!"

"You mean, you don't know? Haven't you been taught this in Sex Ed class?" Kiri was actually curious as to why she doesn't know nor remember. He surly does. Learning about the human body by the infamous sultry teacher, Midnight, engraved so much information into his tiny-teenage brain.

"That was considered an extra curricular class. I took a CPR class instead."

"Right well, from what she taught us and from my own personal experience, you gotta rub one out."

Y/N's whole face contorted into a confused mess of disgust.

"Rub a what now?" She asked, although she had a feeling what the euphemism meant.

Kiri's face blotched red, the tint flushing to his chest as well. The man was evidently embarrassed about having this conversation with someone who wasn't Bakugou.

"I essentially mean you gotta masturbate. Ya know, in order to calm down your boner," he paused seeing how distraught y/n became. "It won't hurt I promise you! Don't worry, it feels really good! Like, eating ice cream good! Ah no that's not a good analogy!"

"This is so fucking horrifying..." Y/N poked at the thing, rightfully known as his dick, and kept starring as if it might miraculously subside to its original size.

Kiri coughed, grabbing her attention away from Bakugou's dick.

"He has lotion stashed in his drawer," he started, but malfunctioned seconds later. He revealed something private to someone that bakugou condemned as a 'weakling'. "That is if you need it for lubricant. It's kind of tough to jerk off dry..." his sentence fell off midway.

Y/N mumbled out an "Ok", and retrieved said lotion from the lower bunk of his drawers. She felt a pair of eyes on her. Kiri was still standing awkwardly by the doorway, unsure wether or not if that's his cue to leave.

"Um, thanks Kiri. You can leave now," she plopped back onto Bakugou's king sized bed.

This man sleeps alone. He doesn't need a ginormous bed all to himself.

"R-Right! Well, enjoy jerking off- ah no I meant - I didn't word that correctly! Ah geez, see ya later!" He sprinted out the door like his life depended on it.

Locking the door behind her, y/n forced herself into the attached bathroom, the lotion burning the palms of her hand each second. Once she settled down on the lid of the toilet, she shimmied out from his loose basketball shorts, letting them pool at her ankles.

If there's one thing she learned that morning, it was that being a man had its weird benefits. - "Slow down Bakugou! Let me at least catch up before you black out!" Kirishima was on his third shot while Bakugou just downed his sixth one for the night.

The blonde growled under his breath and tugged the red head by his collar to his mouth.

"Fucking idiot, don't call me that. It's y/n when we're out in public," he loosens his grip and snatches kiri's shot and tips his head back to drain it all down his throat, the burning sensation long gone.

"Ugh, my brain can't keep up with this whole switching body shit. It's been so hard back at the apartment." He internally cringes from the recollection of y/n popping her first boner this morning.

"What do you mean? Has that dumbass been giving you a hard time? If she has, I'll give her a piece of my mind."

"Not at all! She's been a saint while living with me. Which by the way, how come you can't just live at the penthouse while y/n stays at her place?

While Kirishima was talking, Bakugou ordered another round of shots. The bartender shoved a whole bottle of Fireball towards the man, saving him in the future to not ask anymore. The young server gave Bakugou a sly wink and returned back to serving other customers down the line. Cheeks flushed red, Bakugou thinks the man behind the bar was being too nice for his liking. He poured two more shots while keeping an eye on the average looking employee. If kirishima kept babbling, he might as well funnel the entire bottle in one sitting.

"I'm just following endeavors orders. We're not supposed to gain attention from those stupid reporters that camp outside our penthouse," he takes another swing of the warm liquid. "I'd rather fucking be quirkless than mistaken for having any rumored relations with her."

"Can I ask a genuine question? How come you hate y/n so much?"

"I don't hate her, I dislike her. There's a difference."

"I don't know man. Sometimes I mistaken your dislike with love."

"EXCUSE ME? IM NOT IN LOVE OF THAT BITCH?!"

"C'mon dude, I'm sensing a lot of denial from you. Also, shouldn't you be acting like her right now? She's very soft spoken if I'm not mistaken,"

"I'm not in denial idiot. I hate how soft she speaks. I hate how sickeningly kind she is even though nobody deserves it. I hate how she wastes her talented quirk and doesn't see the potential. She's a lost cause Kiri. She won't last for much longer in this field if she keeps this up."

"Wow, for someone who dislikes her as such, you surly sound like you care about heeeerrrrrr," kirshima drawled out in a sing-song voice.

"Shut up and finish your shot, shitty hair."

When the blonde was driving back to her apartment later that night, he slammed his fists against the steering wheel when an afterthought came to him.

His whole reasoning as to why he went out in the first place, and he can't seem to restrict himself from talking about the girl he's trapped in.

Even in this goddamn body I can't seem to steer clear from y/n talk! - Izuku had to do a double take when he entered the small coffee shop. Something about seeing the pensive blonde sitting patiently in a booth by the corner really made him feel like he was sucked into another dimension. Today y/n was wearing a white v-neck with a wool green cardigan and tight black jeans.

Kacchan owns cardigans? He thought, clearly amused.

Upon hearing the ding coming from the door, Y/N raised her head from her phone and waved Izuku over to her table. The poor man seemed like he was going combust right there. It's been awhile since he's spoken to his old classmate.

The green haired hero slid into the booth across from her and immediately started speaking Deku language.

"H-Hey Kacchan! Boy it's been awhile hasn't it? I was a little stunned seeing your message this morning asking to hangout. I'm sorry that I couldn't meet up sooner. I had an early patrol shift from 9 to 5. You might know how that feels, right?! Oh gosh I'm sounding like an adult. Can you believe we're adults-."

"Midor- I mean Deku, I called you up to ask about if you have any leads on the villain with the body switching quirk?" She cut him off.

"Oh yeah, that villain has been spotted a few times since the last attack. Of course most of my team hasn't been able to reprimand them. A few close calls though. But I heard two people from your sector got hit by the quirk! Are they doing okay?"

I hate lying to those big freaking green eyes.

"That's not true. They got hurt, but no one was attacked by their quirk. I just need to know if you have any information on the quirk in particular and what to do in order to reverse it."

Underneath the table, Izuku fumbled inside his pockets in search for his mini notebook. He still obtained the habit of jotting down everything, literally everything, in hopes the information will provide any source of aide. Izuku became all jittery and excited at the thought of sharing anything with Kacchan!

The small, crinkled notebook was slid across the table, hitting the tips of y/n's knuckles.

"Page 124, the first indent I wrote. It's mainly about my own conspiracy on what the villains quirk is. That was before their first debut of course. But now since we know it's a type of body switching quirk, I tried to pin point on what exactly lifts the quirks effect on the victim," Izuku explained casually while y/n skimmed through the notes and passages. "I did a little detective work on my own and contacted the people who were attacked by the villain. From what I gathered, let's just say- it's a bit taboo ."

This piqued her interest.

"What do you mean by, taboo?"

The man began to wave his hands around fervently in attempt to steer the blonde away from prying more. But y/n swatted Izuku's hand and continued reading the sloppy inscriptions.

Her eyes popped out from her sockets.

"I have to what?!" A few civilians stared in their direction, obviously gravitated to the familiar gruff voice.

"Calm down Kacchan! Why are you so angry for?"

Y/N rubbed her temple all the while wanting to slowly die than endure anymore of this.

"Nothing. Just- Ugh...Is it alright if I borrow this?"

"Y-Yeah! Kacchan can borrow anything from me as long as he returns it!" There was that gleam again in his eyes.

"Thanks Izuku, I owe you one!" She squeezed the greenettes freckled hand before leaving the booth and the shop all together.

Still in the cafe, Izuku sat frozen as if someone walked in with gun. Internally though, he was screaming. -

Y/N: Please call me. It's urgent

It was a Friday night when Bakugou received the cryptic message from her. He was in the middle of watching his true crime show when the annoying ding from his phone went off. For once, he just wanted to relax his mind and go on auto pilot without stressing his already strained body. It's the whole principle of Friday's. To fuck off and ignore everyone. What's so fucking important for her to text him out of the blue then?

Another acute ding.

Bakugou peeked over his shoulder to see who disrupted him this time.

Y/N: Bakugou, we need to talk. This isn't something to ignore.

He rolled his eyes and retrained his focus on the tv screen.

Ding Ding Ding

"FOR FUCK SAKE!" He released an animalistic growl from the depths of his throat, scratching his voice box even more. His fingers typed away aggressively, not bothering to read her previous messages.

BK: Leave me the fuck alone. You're to only text me if it involves with the reverse of this stupid quirk 🖕🏼

Three dots appeared immediately after he sent that. Bakugou started losing his patience while waiting for her response. He hated wasting precious time, especially if there was a second party involved. Her message finally delivered. Bakugou's eyes grew larger in size as he read the text.

Y/N: that's why I'm texting you idiot 🙄 I met up with Midoriya today and he may have given me the solution to our problem.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip as he typed out his last text message to her.

BK: fine. come over then. we can talk about it when you get here.

This time he didn't wait for her to respond back and began cleaning her apartment. - Feeling nervous was an understatement. Y/N felt like she was driving herself to her own execution. Bakugou being the one to carry out the death sentence. She didn't doubt the blonde would be elated at the idea of her being put under a torture device.

Okay, maybe he wasn't too malice to actually do it, but he probably entertained the thought.

Thankfully Bakugou's penthouse wasn't far from her own apartment, saving her much needed gas in case he goes ballistic on her.

The door flew open when she arrived shortly after one knock, revealing a very sluggish looking Y/N shooting daggers at her. Well, at least her body wasn't dressed in bruises or burn marks. That's a win. Bakugou paired herself with a cute crop top and silky pajama shorts. He's got taste she'll give him that.

Her apartment remained exactly the same as she left it when they both were ordered to switch residency's. Only a few traces of Bakugou were found. Mainly in the kitchen, where all his fancy cooking equipment and utensils were laid out. Unlike him, she ate out almost every night due to the red head being incompetent in the kitchen. He almost burnt down the complex last night. He relied upon his friend to do most of the cooking in their household.

The blonde briskly brushed passed her to sit on the couch, slinging his feet on the coffee table to make himself comfortable. Too comfortable, she noted.

"Well, spill it. What did the damn nerd tell you that could help us with this shit?" He inquired without preamble.

Like a hero, she was here on a mission. A mission that needs to be completed as soon as possible, even if the mission itself was ludicrous. She reached into her jacket pocket to retrieve the mini book, and flipped soundlessly to the page Izuku marked for her.

"On here it says that the quirk can last up to a week, maybe even more, depending on the victim(s). The effected will experience dry eyes, nausea, insomnia, painful migraines, and uncontrollable shaking due to being inside another persons body. They must let the quirk take its course then," she read out loud, ignoring Bakugou's groans of annoyance. "But, for rare cases, there have been reports of one's libido being greatly impacted. The victim will be in constant, insurmountable pain unless they relief themselves, then the two bodies will return back to normal."

To her surprise, Bakugou didn't show an ounce of indignation after hearing this piece of information. He seemed almost indifferent.

And there's no denying the truth. Both of their hormones have been off the rails. Ever since the incident in the shower, Bakugou has caught himself numerous times touching Y/N's boobs. Coping a sly feel as he cooked, cleaned, and even while he scrolled through his social media. Sometimes her ass as well to see if it felt good in his hands. Y/N was no saint either. Sporting boners every hour for no particular reason. All the blood rushing to her lower region became unbearable when she didn't take care of it. Kirishima kept reassuring her that it's natural for a man to get them a lot. But how much was too much?

He threw his hands up in the air and scoffs. "That's it? I just gotta jack off and then we're free from this curse?"

This is the part she dreaded the most. An uncomfortable heat flash roused up her face, a deep shade of red inching across her cheeks and nose.

"No. That's not what it means. We basically have to...ya know...," she paused mid sentence, too bashful to finish, desperately wanting Bakugou to put two and two together.

She shrunk in her position as the blonde narrowed his eyes at her.

"We have to fuck each other?" He profoundly acclaimed.

"Don't put it like that! But yeah, technically, we have to...help relief each other in order to switch back."

"If you wanted to jump my bones so bad you could've just asked." He leans back against the couch, arm draped lazily over the shoulder of the furniture, along with a playful smirk tugging up on the corners of his mouth. Y/N's blood ran cold when she felt the tiniest twitch down below. Her borrowed reproductive organ is betraying her!

"Do you want to be in constant pain till this all wears off? Or do you want to get this over with and never talk to each other again?" Y/N shuffled more towards the abrasive man, a strong tidal wave of anger rising within her.

"It won't matter because you always wound up in my presence anyway. Like a fucking pest that won't leave me alone." Without realizing it, Bakugou got up from his spot on the couch and marched over to Y/N, who at the moment looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel.

Another thing he hated about switching bodies was the fact that everyone towered over him, despite him being on his tippy toes. The woman in front of him acclimated his height, giving her the upperhand if they were to battle it out right now. If anything he could kick her shins at best.

"Whatever...I'm leaving," was all she said before storming off to the front door, grabbing her things along with her as she grew farther from him.

Katsuki's legs were moving on their own. His hand reached out and grabbed Y/N's forearm, halting her movements altogether. She's clearly enraged, thrashing her body back and forth to loosen his grip on her. He eventually grew tired of her stubborness and secured his grip on both of her arms, trapping her between the door and his body, producing a loud 'thump!'. Although he was in her body, he still carried his strength. In a matter of seconds, both Y/N and Bakugou were chest to chest now, their centers tapping aganist each other. She averted her gaze to the floor, as if their shoes were more interesting than this whole shitshow of a dilema. Bakugou squeezed her shoudlers, a little too much for her liking, to gain her attention again.

"I didn't say no, did I?" he asked hotly, his warm breath hitting her collarbones. An ice cold shiver ran down her spine, causing her breathing to hitch. Bakugou noticed her sudden stiffness and began rubbing gentle circles into the tender flesh of her skin. "Hoho, someone's excited aren't they?"

Confused, Y/N furrowed her brows and backed up further into the wooden door. But her question was soon to be answered as she followed Bakugou's hungry gaze to the prominent bludge taunting from her pants. Betrayed once again by her unstable horniness!

"Guess I'm not the only one," she accuses once spotting the definite wet stain around Bakugou's crotch. He smirked at that.

"Take care of it then," his voice oozed of seduction and want, rewarding him another twitch in your tight pants. The libido was taking full effect now, any animosity they had before was thrown out the window. Past arguments also long forgotten. Their main priority at the moment was to experience the sweet relief of coming undone.

Y/N darted her hand down to the spot Bakugou needed attention from, and cupped his crotch with her abnormally large hand. Bakugou lets out a shaky exhale as her fingers danced around the sensitive area. One of her fingers moved instinctively, feeling how drenched he was in his panties, and rubbed the underside to get a better feel of the sex.

"You're so wet Bakugou," Y/N mused softly. She leaned forward, searching into Bakugou's eyes for any signs of him wanting this to end. But the pool of his irises were blown out, no tint of your original color in them anymore. "Do you want more?"

He nodded quickly, his hair bobbing up and down. Y/N chuckled and removed her hand from its previous position to the hem of Bakugou's shorts, teasingly toying the waistband. She slipped smoothly into his shorts, tickling him in the process, and toyed with the corners of his panties before moving them aside so she could have access to the thing she's been craving to touch. Wetness lathered up her fingers with just one swipe, causing Bakugou to purse his lips and shut his eyes tightly.

"Is Bakugou embarrassed? Are you mad that I have the upper hand now? After all those years of verbally tormenting me, you can't handle my simple touch?" She whispered dangerously close into his ear. During this, she couldn't tell if he was pissed or turned on. Maybe a mixture of both, but she took pride in his strained expression.

"W-Watch your goddamn mouth. Or do I need to shut you up myself, eh?" By shutting her up, he meant mirroring her exact ministrations. The petite hand of Bakugou's latched onto the zipper of her jeans, and impressively dragged it down in one swipe without getting anything caught. He reached into the tight restraints of her boxer briefs and pulled out the hardened dick. He clicked his tongue. "Not to sound like a narcissist, but you gotta admit, my dick looks pretty."

"Just shut up and jerk me off you asshole. I'm starting to see stars," She wasn't lying to speed up the process. Her body felt like it was on fire, including her dick. If Bakugou keeps stalling for the sake of punishing her, then he's going to be seeing white for days on end.

Bakugou tentatively began pumping her, his grip not too tight nor loose on the flesh. Y/N sighed in relief as he swiped his thumb over the slit, covering his fingers in her precum. Seeing that he's giving into her needs, she returned the favor by inserting her index finger inside, not allowing him to adjust once she massaged the velvety walls.

Bakugou arched into Y/N's body, panting harshly against her chest. "H-Hah fuck, slow down. Shit!"

"Take it like a champ, Mr.Dynamight."

"F-Fuck you."

Oh no. Probably shouldn't have patronized him, because Bakugou sped up his languid motions to pure vigorous jerking of the hand. A wave of pleasure shot up through her body, jolting backwards due to the intense sensation. Of course he's a pro at this. What isn't he good at?

Bakugou rested his head onto the crevice of your shoulder since he could only reach so far, and ghosted his lips on the skin, carefully restricting himself to not engage in kissing the area. While doing so, he cupped the underside of your balls, rolling them around in his small hands. They looked so big when being manhandled in her grasp. Y/N stifled her moans as he kept messing with them, all the while stroking her simultaneously. She felt him smile. The cheeky fucker! Two could play it at this game.

Y/N used one of her thumbs that weren't preoccupied inside Bakugou to massage the only place she knew that could make him cum in seconds. Two fingers inside, one thumb attentively on the clitorous. It was enough to make Bakugou bite down on her shoulder, trying to prevent any moans from escaping his mouth.

"Moan for me Bakugou. I know you want to," she tried to persuade him with more strokes to the clit, occasionally pinching it with her unoccupied fingers. She can feel he was close. So was she. But she needed to coerce him into helping her to finish too. They need to be a team. "Say something Bakugou. Don't you want to cum? If you don't speak your mind I'm going to stop." She couldn't believe the words that were spewing from her mouth. Y/N has never dirty talked before. Nor has she gotten this far with anyone without freezing up. Definitely the libido effect.

Bakugou detached his teeth from her shoulder and stared deeply into her eyes. Pleading.

"Go faster. Please." The want and neediness in his voice said it all.

He indeed felt vulnerable and exposed right then and there when confessing his desire, but he couldn't care less. Her fingers inside him were heavenly. A mantra of ,"yesyesyesyesyesyes", left his throat as her ministrations didn't falter.

"Fuck! Keep going. Just like that- shit - just like that... yesssss." His moans were beautiful. Not because they sounded like hers, but the way how he vocalizes his pleasure made sense in the world. Every whimper or moan puts her closer to the edge.

"Are you- are you about to?" He asked quietly, as though he was afraid you might stop at any rate.

"Yes! So close, just keep stroking," it was difficult to form sentences after that, the build up tension in your stomach tightening like a ticking time bomb, making your pleads indecipherable.

But Bakugou didn't want to hear that. He wanted to her to say those three words of encouragement.

Make. Me. Cum

And then, as if his thoughts were broadcasted live, she snaked her hands into the locks of his hair and pulled him close to where the tips of their noses touched briskly.

In a small voice she whimpers out, "Make me cum, Katsuki."

Listening to her instructions, his grip tightened around the base of her shaft and began teasing the slit, never once averting his glare from her own. Y/N's legs turned into jello. It became harder and harder to stand any longer. She needed to release. She quickened her pace and brutally scissored his pussy, the erotic sounds of their wetness reverberating in the tiny apartment.

"Cum then baby. Cum for me only."

Baby

Next thing she knew a strip of white shot out from below, dirtying the hands of Bakugou's. Her body began to spasm. Katsuki didn't loosen his grip, the stimulation becoming unbearable at this point.

The coil within him loosened, the evidence of his climax coating her fingers, allowing his orgasum to reach its full potential.

The pair blacked out for a split second, but recuperated once the light hit their corneas again.

"Shit." "Fuck." "..." "..."

Silence. Then the realization hit.

"I'm staring at you and not me! It worked! Hallelujah!" Y/N exclaimed, feeling herself to make sure it wasn't a hallucination.

"Gross. You got cum all over my expensive shirt," he said, wiping away the white substance with his sleeve.

Both of them went into the kitchen to clean the after math. Bakugou would grunt occasionally in disgust, sponging away the grime. Y/N throughly washed her hands and towel dried them, thoughts stiffly empty and vexed. She broke the awkward tension.

"Well, I guess we should call Endeavor and inform him that we switched back."

He hummed in agreement.

"And we should probably exchange our things tomorrow or tonight, but preferably soon since we're going to be on duty again."

Another grunt.

"Don't worry about me mentioning this to anyone. We can just keep whatever happened minutes ago between us-

Bakugou cut her off entirely by smashing his lips against hers. Shell shocked by his action, Y/N kept her eyes wide open whilst Bakugou's were knitted shut. She laid her hands on his chest and shoved him away harshly, putting their distance at arms reach.

"Bakugou, what the hell? All of sudden you want to kiss me?" Y/N's face fell, contorting into a mixture of sadness and confusion. "You only kiss people you like. Not hate."

Bakugou moved towards Y/N slowly, a hint of a smile forming as he neared closer.

"And that's exactly why I did it, idiot," he proclaimed confidently, cupping the side of her face. The touch was so tender and gentle she forgot that it was Bakugou at first.

"You're toying with me, aren't you? The libido is probably still lingering. If you really liked me, then tell me the exact moment you did."

Without hesitation he said, "The first day of school. When you walked in."

Y/N slapped the hand from her face, her skin flushing red by his blunt confession.

"Stop lying. You were mean to me the first day of school. And every day after that. I don't think calling people a "weakling" or "stupid" constitutes as liking someone."

All he did was chuckle and continued scooting closer, eventually towering above her. She squirmed underneath him. She secretly missed having his height.

"You're absolutely stupid if you think I really meant any of that crap. I may have gone overboard on the whole berating thing, but that was just my way of pushing my feelings away, in hopes you'd improve better and not take shit from people like me."

"Ya know, it's kind of hard to detect that when you were practically spitting on my face."

He leaned down and pecked a chaste kiss on the crown of her forehead.

"You can call me all the names you want later. Kick my ass if ya want, but for now let me make it up to you," he whispers before planting his mouth to hers again, only this time she didn't protest.

Heat swirled within her as she watched Katsuki's eyes flutter close, enriched in the moment to open them, and gripped the base of her neck to apply more pressure into the kiss. The man guided her as he moved his plushed lips ontop of hers, consuming the pretty noises she made. And my, were they absoultey rich coming from her.

I want to hear more, the selfish thought banged repeatedly inside his lust filled mind.

Y/N nervosuly closed her eyes shut when Katsuki's wet tongue prodded the entrance of her tight, lipped mouth. Letting him take full control, Katsuki managed to enter the strong muscle into her wet mouth and explored the canvernous place with such eagerness, such tenacity. Like he's been dying to do this for as long as his skillful mind can remember. Y/N found herself moaning as Katsuki grabbed her waist and forcefully collieded their bodies together, her soft breasts pressed up against his hard chest. Her perky tits put him in a trance, remincseing back to the day when first touched them, the guiltiness eating him up from the inside-out. Katsuki slithered one of his hands to the taunt boob and gave it a firm squeeze, causing Y/N to squeak out in embarrasement. They still feel fucking amazing in his hands.

"You're so fucking cute," he drew back from her, already out of breath. Everything was hitting him like a tsunami. He can finally admit to himself that he's been wanting this since they became co-workers. Hell, since the fucking beginning. Younger Katsuki would deem him as a horny loser who lost at his own game, but he wasn't a damn kid anymore.

"K-Katsuki...bedroom?" her hands found their way back into his crisp locks, futher egging him to comply. The small action made him moan.

"Fuck yes," Katsuki growled out and in a haste hooked his arms underneath the back of Y/N's thighs, hoisting her in the air to lead them into the bedroom they're both familair with.

Journeying to her bedroom became a difficult task. If only she'd stop giving his neck, the most sensitve spot out of his entire body, kitten kisses then he'd be plowing her back by now. He grew weaker by the second as the shy, acute kisses trandsitioned into full on sucking and biting. Not that he was complaining.

Katsuki threw her down onto the bed, unable to contain his smile when she hiccuped a chorus of giggles. God, even her giggles are fucking contagious. Strong arms scooped her up momentarily, bringing her to the center of the bed. Grazing her aching spot was Katsuki's growing buldge. Y/N circled her arms around his tiny waist squeezing him closely as Katsuki rolled his hips downwards to meet hers. She seized Katsuki's bicep, whimpering, and rythmically pushed her groin towards his, the tin material of her shorts scraping the surface of his jeans deliciously. His head dragged down to her collarbones, panting softly, wetting the skin from the condesation of his breath.

"I want you so fucking bad, please," he managed to choke out in between the continous grinding.

Gaining a newfound confidence, Y/N mimiced the way how Bakugou unzipped her when they were still in opposite bodies and peeled back his briefs till his inflamed member popped out, smacking his lower belly. He cursed under his breath noticing the immense amount of pre-cum leaking from the head. As much as she wanted to lick it all up, there were other things to tend to. She shimmied out from her skimpy shorts and crop top, not wasting any time for lingering touches. But Y/N caught a menacing glare in his eyes. His attention was focused on something else. Looking down, she saw that she was sporting a sheer laced bra with matching panties. She definitely doesn't remember having these in her personal closet.

"You bought me lingerie?" Y/N tried to sound unfazed at the thought of Katsuki willingly purchasing these pretty undergarments for her. That must mean he's seen her boobs!

"Yeah? So what if I did. Your sense of fashion is nonexistent. I pitied you that much to where I bought you shit with my own money."

His face was stern, scarily resembling the times he'd be bashing someone's head on the concrete during a bloody battle. But his eyes told a different story. She couldn't quite pin point the time or place when she witnessed the same gleaming spark in those vermilion orbs, but she felt safe and wanted all in one.

So she began teasing the straps of her bra, head still in disbelief that the blonde underneath her bought it, and let the material slip off her shoulder seductively. Bakugou's breathing quickened as he watched y/n toy with the next strap. He stopped her midway.

"No," his fingers were ironically cold.

"No?" She questioned him, awkwardly frozen still on his lap. His evident boner pushing up against her sex, making her wet even more.

Numbly, Bakugou pulled up both of the straps to her bra and chuckled lightly to himself.

"I wanna fuck you with this on. It's been on my mind since I bought it," he admitted out loud.

Y/N held back a moan, his words carrying so much weight to them all the while directing it straight to her drenched pussy.

Without saying a word, y/n left acute kisses on Bakugou's neck, trailing it down further and further till she reached the leaking head of his member. He became antsy as she wrapped her petite hand around the base, fingers tracing the topography of his veins. Y/N saw the desperate look on his face and took all of him in her mouth, holding in the breath of oxygen she took before doing so. Bakugou hissed, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip nearly ripping the skin apart. This feels way better and more appropriate. He prefers her wet mouth over her fingers any day of the week.

Y/N sucked in her cheeks, allowing herself to take more of his member. The tip of his head eventually hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag and choke due to the sudden pressure.

"F-Fuck. Holy shit, keep going," Katsuki begged, tears swelling in his ducts already.

The saliva from her open mouth created a natural lubricant, making it easy for her to bob her head up and down. Bakugou's ears picked up the erotic wet squelching sounds coming from her as she kept up the brutal pace, the noise alone making him want to come undone. The sight of y/n slobbering on his dick is now engraved in his head. He let out a wanton moan when she played with his balls, recalling the memory of him performing the same ministration on himself with her beautiful hands.

He can feel the familiar sensation spreading down below, his throat constricting as the stimulation of her sucking and licking becoming too much. Before she could continue, Bakugou reached over and lifted her head by her hair.

"I can't hold it in any longer. I need to be inside you now," his voice was strained to point where it came out as a whisper.

Pushing her back gently, Bakugou latched his mouth onto hers as he spread her legs wide apart. Revealing a canal of her wetness dripping from her panties to the inner thighs. Bakugou licked his lips hungrily. Mentally slapping himself for not tasting her before she gave him head. He'll make sure to explore that endeavor later.

Lips still locked, Bakugou tugged the bottom half of her laced panties aside, strings of her glistening wetness shimmering, and positioned himself at her aching entrance. The tip of his cock teased her folds, coating it even more. He agonizingly went in slow circles, occasionally slapping her clit with it. Y/N's arms were above her head, clutching the linen sheets in anticipation. Katsuki smirked against her lips at her wrecked expression.

"Bakugou please...," y/n pleaded with her full chest. She wants to know how it feels to be wrapped around him. To be one with him. "Don't hold back. Just fuck me."

Bakugou's eyes grew darker after the demand, pure lust taking control over his body now. He sheathed into her quickly without taking his eyes off of her face. A quiet whimper left her throat when he fully bottomed out. He checked for any signs of y/n looking displeased or uncomfortable, but he got his answer when he felt her legs wrap around his torso, pulling him in as close as possible. Bakugou basks in at the sight of y/n sucking him completely, her legs fully bent back in an awkward position. He decides to pull his cock halfway out. y/n whimpers due to loss of friction but gets rewarded seconds later when Katsuki rams his cock inside again, pushing all his weight onto her.

"Oh, fuck, Katsuki!," she whines, instinctively clutching her walls around him.

"You're so tight for me huh baby? Can't help but to clamp around this dick," Katsuki sneered while pumping tentative thrusts into her.

His hands clasped both of her thighs now, pulling her towards him, urging her to move in a harmonious dance with him. Finding somewhat of a rhythm, y/n fucked Katsuki back by rolling her hips, a synapse of heat exchanging between them. Sweat starts dripping down from the crown of his forehead onto the peaks of her breasts. Lost in thought, he tipped his head forward and lapped up the remains of his salty musk, tongue expertly twirling around the taunt nipple. Y/N mewled, hands searching - reaching - for anything to ground herself, settling on interlocking her fingers with Katsuki's nitroglycerin drenched hands. She titled her head and took a whiff.

Caramel and soap

A popping sound went off in her ears. Katsuki released her swollen tit only to look up with hooded eyes, his infamous smirk on full display.

"Open your mouth," was all he said before raising one of his fingers that she was so embarrassingly fixated on moments ago. When she didn't obey Katsuki grabbed her by the jaw and shoved not one, not two, but three fingers in her mouth. Like with his cock, she couldn't handle the intensified pressure in the back of her throat, gagging instantaneously.

"Atta girl. Just take my fingers like a good bitch. Oh? You like it when I degrade you huh? Don't lie, you tightened instantly when I said that." Katsukis pace sped up rapidly, pumping into her cunt like a madman, fingers still lodge down her throat. Each thrust left her shuddering for more, his hips meeting hers to create a loud song, the noise drowning out her muffled screams.

It became hard to see now, a tunnel vision of just a crimson glow. Soon she feels herself becoming light. Katsuki grew impatient and flipped y/n on her stomach, a tiny oof rocked out from her, and inserted his member back into her stretched out cunt.

Y/N yelps as Katsuki's cock hits the sweet spot - fresh tears flooding down her flushed face, babbling nonsense into her pillow.

She caves, sobbing, "yes, yes, ohgod. you feel so good. you're so fucking good -ah katsuki!"

Looming over her trembling body, the blonde slows his harsh thrusts to a savagely slow grind. He lowly chuckles watching her writhe and wiggle her body in desperation.

"You think you can just come that easy? Beg for me to let you come!"

Smack!

A harsh sting rattled her lower back, causing her to bite down harshly on her lip to avoid showing any pain.

"Such an asshole..." y/n huffed out, oblivious to the way how Katsuki was preparing for her next punishment.

Smack! Smack!

"Not good. Ask nicely for me to fuck this pretty pussy into the mattress."

More whimpers into the tear stained pillow.

"P-Please Katsuki..." she begins, frustration growing exponentially with every word. "Fuck me. I need your cock. I always needed your cock Katsuki. Make me scream out your name when I come!"

She didn't even have time to process what she said before Katsuki enclosed his hand around her throat, forcefully dragging her writhing body to his chest, cranking her head in a 90 degree angle. Cock still warming up her insides.

"That's my girl," he said before kissing her lips again, devouring the sweet noises she made.

Her neighbors were in for a long night. - Both of their bodies the next morning faced more damage than any crusade of a patrol. Bruises painted the outskirts of y/n's body, trailing from her thighs to the divots of her breasts. Katsuki paid no mind to it, seeing how he can make a bloody lip a trailblazer look.

Even though no one wanted speak much about the issue at hand - last night was a pivotal moment for their relationship.

Because y/n wouldn't be making a fresh batch of coffee for the Katsuki Bakugou in her kitchen right now.

Because Bakugou wouldn't be lounging by her washing machine, waiting for the timer to go off so he can put her bed sheets in the dryer.

They found themselves sitting comfortably in silence - the soft whipping of car horns outside her cracked window - Katsuki blowing on his coffee before taking a sip. It all seemed unreal to her. In any other circumstance they'd be at each other's necks by now, screaming nuisances in the air. She considers this whole ordeal a ruse. But it isn't. Thank god it isn't. Because Katsuki never looked calmer or relaxed in his entire life till now. And she wasn't going to bat an eye away from this ground breaking phenomenon.

Intently watching him drink from across the table, she ponders if Katsuki liked her from the get go, and maybe just disguised his feelings with disgust towards her later on. The question will go unanswered, possibly until he confides and tells the story himself, but for now she was content not knowing the what if.

"How did you know I like black coffee?" Katsuki asks, quirking up an eyebrow at her.

Y/N takes a long drag from her mug, indulging in the sweet taste of the caramel creamer.

She smiles and says, "I don't know. Just took a wild guess."

#mha smut #mha imagines #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki smut #bakugou fluff #bakugou smut #bakugou imagine

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hopespeak-hs-hostclub · 3 years

Note

Ahhhh I have an idea! Can you write NSFW headcanons for Miu x Kiibo?

YES IVE BEEN SO EXCITED TO DO THIS SINCE YOU REQUESTED IT!!! Sorry it took me so long I’ve been overwhelmed 😂

MIU IRUMA X KEEBO NSFW HC’s

Keebo and Miu’s first time was really awkward. Miu had just given Keebo a dick add-on- at Keebo’s request. Kokichi had successfully made keebo feel bad about not having one, so he practically begged Miu to make him one. After installing it, keebo asked if Miu would reach him how to use it, and the rest is history.

Keebo initiates sex all the time surpassingly. Once he’s tried sex once, he’s practically addicted to it. Specifically, he’s addicted to fucking Miu. He can’t believe he’s been missing out on sex this whole time. Although he doesn’t feel pleasure the same way we would, he still knows that it feels amazing. And he never wants it to end.

Miu has a very high sex drive, and so does Keebo, so the two of them have sex literally everyday. Miu may be the one that built Keebo’s dick, but she’s amazed at how big it is, and how full it makes her every time. She also can’t believe just how quickly he figured out how to use it, and how to make her cum every single time.

Miu is 100% the loudest in bed. She screams, moans, cry’s, yells, and she loves talking dirty to Keebo and making him blush/over heat.

Obviously, Miu is incredibly sensitive. And Keebo knows exactly where and how to make Miu scream out his name. He loves using his fingers on her, and rubbing her clit, as it seems to break her completely. She becomes a whimpering inaudible mess who wants nothing more than for Keebo to fuck her. She usually ends up begging him to just fuck her, but he won’t until he’s made her cum a few times with just his fingers. Since he physically can’t cum, he makes sure he makes her cum all the time.

Foreplay is pretty simple between them. Keebo doesn’t require any, although Miu will play with him a little just for fun. Keebo likes to play with Miu’s boobs and nipples though, just to make her feel extra good before hand.

Keebo’s still a shy sweet baby, so he prefers to have sex in private areas. His bed, her bed, or an empty locked room. He would absolutely die if anybody ever caught them though, so they have to be alone. although, Miu has expressed interest in public sex, Keebo is very apprehensive and nervous about it.

Miu is the biggest sub in the world, which works perfect because Keebo recently discovered he loves being on top and dominating the fuck out of Miu. He loves pounding her as deep and hard as he can, flipping her onto her stomach and fucking her from behind while she pushes herself further down onto his dick.

Though this started because Keebo just wanted a dick, he really started to like Miu. After about 2 months of nothing but crazy sex, Keebo decided to make the evening a little more romantic to ask her to be his girlfriend. He had his dick shoved deep inside her, and as she was literally cumming around him, he whispered “Miu? Would you please be my girlfriend? I l..like you a lot” she came harder than she ever has and they’ve been an official couple ever since. They both shared their first “I love you” to eachother during sex as well.

Miu loves dirty talking with Keebo. “Fuck me with your giant robot cock Keebaby!!” “Oh my, my big sexy robo boy is rock hard for me isn’t he?” “Does Keebo want to murder my nice little pussy?” It does embarrass Keebo a lot, but it also gets him super excited, knowing he’s going to fuck the shit out of her that night.

Miu calls Keebo “master” in bed. She loves being dominated.

Keebo has walked in on Miu fingering herself at least 10 times. And every single time, he just moves her hands away and helps her finish.

Keebo can last for literally ever, so they usually go until Miu tells him to stop. They don’t have a specific safe word or anything, Miu just let’s him know when somethings become too much or when she needs to stop, and he always listens. He respects his girlfriend so much and would never do anything she said not to do.

Miu has expressed interest in a 3 way, Keebo is not opposed. They haven’t asked yet, but they both really want to involve Shuichi.

Their kinks are so opposite it’s ridiculous. Miu has a degradation kink where as Keebo has a praise kink, so sex is just Keebo calling Miu a filthy little cum slut who’s good for nothing but taking dick, and Miu telling Keebo how good he makes her feel and how much better he’s gotten at fucking her since they first started

Keebo has accidentally Uh.. put it up the wrong hole. And Miu was not happy. Without going into detail, they don’t do anal. Ever.

Miu loves everything about Keebo, from how well he treats her, to his strikingly good looks, to how good he fucks her. Keebo loves everything about Miu too. Her beautiful long hair, her perfect body, how good she feels wrapped around him, how kind she is to him, how well she treats him. He’s truly in love with her.

#danganronpa #keebo headcannons #keebo smut #drv3 keebo #drv3 k1b0 #keebo #miu iruma #Miu Iruma smut #Keebo x Miu #Miu x Keebo #Miu x keebo headcannons #Miu headcannons

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asweetprologue · 3 years

Text

me lámh le do lámh - Part IV

First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

They spent a few days in Oxenfurt, mostly for Jaskier’s benefit. The bard hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wasn’t prepared to head out. There was packing to be done, his rooms to see to, appointments to cancel with the university. Geralt was happy enough to wait. It wasn’t strictly a hardship to spend some time lounging in Jaskier’s rooms and wandering the university gardens during the day before following Jaskier to whatever tavern or hall he was to play at for the evening. Jaskier was away for the better part of most days, but Geralt moved his things to Jaskier’s rooms after the first night at the inn. Waking well before Jaskier in the same bed, he was greeted each morning to Jaskier’s arm slung across his chest, warm and comfortable in the predawn silence. His cheeks would be ruddy with sleep and their shared heat under the blankets, his hair flattened awkwardly to his skull where it had been pressed to the pillow.

He’d missed this. After months without Jaskier’s presence, it felt like he was drowning in it, shocked by the strength of his own reaction. With the golden light of the morning sun shining through Jaskier’s one window to fall softly across his brow and pick out the silver strands in his hair, Geralt wondered at how he could have ever misplaced this feeling in his chest. He loved him. He wanted to preserve each moment in fine amber, never to fade.

But finally Jaskier was finished making his arrangements, and they were able to set out from Oxenfurt towards their first destination. It would take them several weeks to collect the components that Ida had mentioned—weeks that Geralt would have to spend dancing around the subject of the ritual and its origins, as well as his traitorous heart. As he caught Jaskier’s bright smile from up ahead as they crossed the Oxenfurt bridge, he hoped that he wasn’t making a terrible mistake.

“So where, exactly, are these mysterious elven ruins?”

Geralt grunted, both in answer and in exertion as he swung his sword through another clump of heavy brush, clearing the path. Roach waited patiently behind him, and Jaskier less so. He turned to look back at them both, finding Jaskier giving him an unimpressed look. Geralt forced down the urge to grumble again. “They’re close,” he said, taking Roach’s reins to lead her through the cleared bushes. The path that they were following was barely a deer trail in places, clearly unused for decades. There had been no sign thus far that the area had once been populated aside from the occasional flash of white brickwork that told Geralt they were on the right track.

“Oh, really,” said Jaskier, who had likely not noticed the brickwork, based on Geralt’s past experience with his observation skills. “You know what I think, Geralt? I think we’re lost in the woods in the middle of nowhere, a day away from the nearest hamlet, and we’re just as likely to find a wyvern den as an elven temple out here.”

“Wyverns don’t populate the lowlands,” Geralt said automatically, kicking a large branch out of Roach’s path.

Jaskier made a strangled sound behind him that Geralt might call a growl if it had come from anyone else. “I know that, I was being hyperbolic, you ass. You’re avoiding the issue.”

“We’re on the right path.” Another glint of white stone caught his eye, this time the edge of an arch wrapped nearly over in vines and moss. Only fragments remained, large chunks blending in with the forest floor.

“As if you would admit it if you were lost,” Jaskier griped, shoving a branch out of his own way. “Remember that time near Spikeroog? We were lost in a boat for three days because you wouldn’t just admit that we went west for six hours—”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, and pushed aside the last of the foliage.

Jaskier fell silent, and they both looked beyond the treeline into the clearing Geralt had revealed. Before them rose a silent, crumbling stone structure, pale as a ghost against the dark lines of the trees in the afternoon light. Much of its surface had been reclaimed already by the forest, but enough of it poked through to give a general sense of scale. It towered at least two stories above them, though the edges were uneven in a way that suggested it once may have been higher. The front facade rose in a flat wall before them, pierced by a line of arches, their edges decorated in fading but intricate reliefs. Here and there along the line of what had once been the path leading to the central arch, the occasional protrusion of a column could be seen. The path beyond the central arch was shadowed, too dark for even Geralt to see past after so long in the daylight.

Jaskier stepped forward into the narrow clearing, and Geralt followed. Wordlessly, Jaskier raised a hand to trail along the remnants of a low, circular stone wall, perhaps the remnants of an ancient well. When he looked up at Geralt, his eyes shone, two pieces of midday sky in the murky shade of the forest. “I stand corrected,” he said, offering Geralt a giddy grin.

Geralt shook his head with a small smile, drawing Roach further into the clearing. “Let’s set up camp here. You can explore when we have someplace to sleep.”

Jaskier agreed eagerly and they both launched into the process of setting up camp. They fell easily back into old patterns, Jaskier slotting seamlessly into Geralt’s routine. It was always easier to set up and break down camp when the bard was around, though Geralt thought it had very little to do with splitting the work halfway.

Within half an hour they had created a comfortable camp in the clearing and Geralt had Roach tended to, and they both stood before the dark archway into the ruins.

Jaskier hesitated over the threshold, his excitement over the history of the place apparently conceding to nerves. “Well, ah. After you, witcher,” he said, holding out an arm as if holding an imaginary door for Geralt to walk through.

Geralt rolled his eyes and stepped into the small hall beyond the archway, blinking a few times to let his eyes adjust to the gloom. “Come on, bard,” he called over his shoulder, amusement and affection swelling in his chest as he heard Jaskier mutter and quick footsteps follow after him.

The hall ended in a flight of stairs leading down, and they had to pause to light a torch when Jaskier ran directly into Geralt’s back and nearly knocked them both down it. A quick burst of igni had firelight dancing across the smooth white stones as they descended into the ruins.

Elves, Geralt had found, rarely built up. Though their cities had towered in ages past, their true magnificence had always lain below ground. The complex that they made their way down into was labyrinthian, huge open hallways with dozens of rooms and offshoots, archways that looked in on underground courtyards with pierced ceilings that let in the daylight, huge caverns expertly carved into cathedrals. Jaskier quickly brought out a bit of charcoal he often used for taking notes or sketching and began to mark their way with arrows pointing back the way they’d come, so they might not be hopelessly lost in the ruins. Geralt led them mostly by smell, at first; Triss had mentioned that any ritual chambers would likely be on the lower levels, as they were considered private and upper floors were generally public. He followed the cool, chalky scent of wet stone deeper into the ruins, down ramps and stairways until they were all but buried in the earth.

“I never knew the true breadth of them,” Jaskier breathed at one point, as they made their way down a winding spiral staircase that curved along what seemed like a natural cave shaft. “I’ve read, of course, about the scale of the old elven kingdoms, but it’s different to see it all. We’ve been walking for hours already and I feel as if there’s still miles to be seen.”

“Maybe not miles,” Geralt said, keeping one ear out for potential movement and one on Jaskier’s footsteps on the slick stone steps. “One’s I’ve been to before are usually somewhere around five and fifteen levels. We’re getting close to the bottom.”

Jaskier hummed in acknowledgment. “You could take an entire lifetime to study this place. Why hasn’t anyone surveyed it? How do you know the thing you're after for this ritual hasn’t already been taken?”

At that moment Geralt heard a gentle click, and he reached up just in time to pluck the arrow from the air as it hissed past his ear and towards Jaskier’s head. Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder, finding Jaskier wide eyed behind him. Looking meaningfully down at Jaskier’s foot, he jerked his chin up.

Jaskier lifted up his foot, and the click of a pressure plate resetting filled the narrow space.

“That’s how,” Geralt said, tossing the arrow to the side.

“Of course,” Jaskier said weakly. “Of course the place is booby trapped.”

“And haunted probably,” Geralt agreed, continuing down the stairs. “Stay close. Wouldn’t want you to die before I can make you immortal.” The words were said as much in jest as he could make them, but he felt a brief strum of anxiety all the same.

Jaskier huffed in annoyance, but Geralt could feel him press even closer. He ignored the way that the air between them seemed to heat, the soothing warmth of Jaskier’s presence pressing back the dark more efficiently than any torch.

“Look,” Jaskier’s voice came from behind him. Geralt turned around to see Jaskier rubbing at a patch of the wall in the hall they were currently trekking through, the ancient slabs of stone crumbling a bit at his touch. “There’s writing here.”

Geralt stepped up next to him, feeling Jaskier’s warmth radiating along his side. Forcing himself to ignore the proximity, he leaned in to peer at the wall. “Elder, looks like. Can’t make it out.”

“It looks like one of the early northern dialects, closer to Laith aen Undod.” Jaskier scrambled in his small pack and pulled out his bit of charcoal and his notebook, handing the torch off to Geralt. Accepting the light, Geralt frowned at Jaskier as he made a few quick lines on the paper, referring back to the wall a few times. His tongue poked just barely out between his lips, as it always did when he was concentrating. After a moment he stood up straight, leaning towards the light to examine his own markings.

“Can you read that?” Geralt asked, genuinely surprised. He was fairly well versed in Elder, but his knowledge was more practical, learned from his interactions with the Scoia’tael and learning the Signs. The One Speech was well beyond his understanding, not to mention the various ancient dialects of Elder.

“Mm, I’m better at reading Elder than I am at speaking it, I’m afraid. Academic knowledge. Have to be able to translate the old poems and stories, after all.” He flashed Geralt a grin, the laugh lines deepening around his eyes. They sparkled in the light of the torch, turning the blue silver-gold. Geralt’s breath caught in his throat.

When Geralt didn’t respond quickly enough, Jaskier turned back to the notes he’d made on the paper. He muttered a few things to himself in Elder, the words sounding oddly musical—as if he’d learned to pronounce the language through song, which he probably had. Finally he scribbled a few notes in Common. “I think it’s a road sign, of sorts,” Jaskier said slowly. His tone took on the particular quality that Geralt had come to recognize as his “professor voice” over the years. He’d always found it rather amusing. “This complex must have been big enough to necessitate passage markers. See the sideways arrowhead under the top line? It says—well, I’m not sure, but I know the root has to do with the evening meal, so I’d guess it’s pointing to some kind of tavern or dining hall. And this one just says ‘sanctuary,’ I think. That’s a weird one, that symbol in more modern Elder just means ‘place’ but there’s a prefix here that adds a sort of defensive quality to it. Maybe ‘protected place’?” Jaskier frowned down at his own work. Already he had somehow managed to smudge charcoal across his cheek.

“Might be right,” Geralt grunted, impressed. “Triss said it would be in a safe place. ‘Ionad chosanta.’”

Jaskier hummed thoughtfully. “Could be as good a translation as any.”

“Better than wandering around,” Geralt shrugged, and turned towards the hall the arrow pointed towards. Before stepping into the darkness, he paused, looking back at Jaskier. Without letting himself think too hard about it, he reached up and rubbed away the charcoal on Jaskier’s cheekbone. The sweep of his thumb pushed back the soot and revealed the pale skin underneath, still so soft even after so many years spent traveling out in the elements. That skin care regiment Jaskier was always going on about must be worth something, he thought faintly.

Jaskier was silent, staring at him with an expression that reminded Geralt of a hare staring down the point of an arrow. Clearing his throat briefly, Geralt let his hand fall and said, “Thanks. For the… You did good.”

Even in the dim light, Geralt could see the flush that lit up Jaskier’s face at that, spilling prettily over his cheekbones. He gaped at Geralt for a moment before his mouth snapped closed with a near audible clack. Geralt expected a witty rejoinder of some kind, perhaps a jab at his historical inability to offer praise. He knew he deserved it, even if Jaskier meant it in anger rather than jest. Raising Ciri had taught him the value of voicing his appreciation and affection for others, even if he still struggled for the right words to do so. Yennefer had painstakingly beat it into his head. Ciri hadn’t known that he cared unless he said so, and so he had no other alternatives. Looking at Jaskier gaping at him, he wondered how many times Jaskier had assumed that Geralt cared little for him for lack of a kind word. His chest hurt at the thought.

After long enough that the silence had grown heavy and awkward, Jaskier coughed lightly, ducking to hide his expression. The ribbing Geralt had prepared himself for did not come. “Not a problem,” was all Jaskier said, brushing past him. “Let’s get a move on, yes? Don’t want the torch to run low.”

Geralt stared after him for a moment before shaking his head and following.

The shrine, when they found it, was hidden behind a thick patch of rubble that Geralt had to blast out of the way with a few precise applications of aard. He slipped inside first, sliding through the small opening in the stone and landing lightly on the other side. His eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom, to his surprise, and he realized that there were several glowing crystals embedded in the walls around him at even intervals. There came the sound of cascading stones and a low curse from behind him, and he turned in time to catch Jaskier’s elbow before the bard fell flat on his face.

“Ah, thank you, dear witcher,” Jaskier huffed, reaching up to fruitlessly brush the dust from his jacket. Looking up, he halted in his motions, taking in the room around them in its soft, ethereal light. “Oh,” he breathed.

It was indeed beautiful, even in its decaying state. Like everything in the tunnels, the structures were unmistakably elven, but even so they appeared alien to Geralt’s eyes. The walls were covered in delicate mosaic work, in patterns that danced in the flickering light of their torch and that of the crystals. The center of the room was dominated by a blank circle of unmarked stone, with Elder runes engraved along the edge that Geralt could not even begin to decipher. The circle was framed by a delicate canopy of carved white stone, supported on four pillars of the same material. The carvings were so minute that for a moment Geralt thought the entire structure might be built not of stone, but of some sort of webbing or silk. It was delicate enough to be blown glass, but when he set his hand against one of the pillars it was as unforgiving as a mountainside.

Jaskier ran his fingers along one of the walls, tracing a twist in the tiny shards of colored glass. “It’s beautiful,” he said, voice pitched low.

“Triss said these places were sacred to the Aes Sidhe. They mark where the elves first arrived,” Geralt said. He found his own gaze drawn back to the center of the unmarked circle beneath the canopy. “Here.”

Set into the very center of the stone circle was a small depression, no larger than Geralt’s palm. He stepped into the circle and knelt down, peering at it. Within the shallow bowl formed by the carved out floor sat an oval stone, maybe three inches long at its widest point. Drawing out his trophy knife, Geralt set the edge of it against the lip of the facet and twisted it. It popped out surprisingly easily, as if it was meant to be removed by design.

Jaskier hovered behind him as Geralt picked up the gaes carraigh. It was cool against his fingers, made of a translucent white stone that became more opaque at the edges. The center was nearly see-through, and when Geralt held it up the light played oddly in its depths. His medallion hummed faintly against his chest, warning him of the presence of magic. “Is that it?” Jaskier asked, resting one of his hands on Geralt’s shoulder to lean in closer.

“Think so,” Geralt replied, trying to ignore the weight of Jaskier pressed against him.

“What exactly does it do?” Jaskier reached out his free hand to press a finger against the center of the stone, curious as always. Geralt allowed it, and forced himself not to flinch when their fingers brushed incidentally. He could feel his ears warm regardless.

“It… binds the words of the ritual, or something. I didn’t ask.”

“Gaes carraigh… promise rock?” Jaskier tried, dropping to lean his full elbow on Geralt’s shoulder, casually slotting their forms together. His fingers barely brushed against Geralt’s collarbone, and he took a slow breath to maintain control over his heartbeat. Suddenly the proximity was overwhelming. Here they were, in a sacred space where possibly dozens of couples had made their vows to each other, fingers both lingering over the stone that would bind their oaths. In another life, perhaps they could have had something like this—Jaskier resplendent in the light of the blue crystals, eyes shining, looking at Geralt with adoration as they made their promises to each other. He would want to dress up, like he always did for a big event, but this time it would be only for himself and Geralt. Would he dress in blue? Or perhaps black, a witcher’s color, his pale skin like moonlight against the night sky. Would he wear a crown of periwinkle and sage, as was the northern custom? He would lean in close, like he was now, and murmur his vows to Geralt in words that flowed as smooth as a song.

He hadn’t known it was possible to want something so badly it was like a physical ache. Geralt was a witcher; he did not allow himself to think on things he couldn’t have. But here in this place, with Jaskier so close and yet so far away, the force of his desire felt oppressive. Jaskier didn’t know what any of this meant, and Geralt had no right to it, no right to want it. It was just a ritual. The context didn’t mean anything, because Jaskier would never feel that way about him.

After all, Geralt thought, looking down at the oathstone in his palm, who would want to marry a witcher?

Jaskier was still talking, and Geralt wrenched himself out of his thoughts when the arm on his shoulder pulled back and Jaskier patted the empty space once, as if in parting. “—probably get going, don’t you think? I do not relish the idea of being stuck here overnight. Not that I am not entirely confident in your abilities, darling, but I feel it’s best not to tempt fate when it comes to ghosts of ancient elven sages. Do you think they would count this as stealing? Probably. Anyways, I don’t want to find out what angry centuries old spirits do to trespassers.”

Geralt grunted, still gathering himself. He felt sluggish under the weight of his own emotions, pushing himself to his feet laboriously. The oathstone was heavy in his hand, and he slipped it into his potions pouch in the hope that it would feel less burdensome there. Without a word, he stood and exited the chamber the way they’d come, Jaskier fumbling after him.

#geraskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #witcher #fic #fanfic #writing #my work #me lamh #multichapter #big bang #geraskierbigbang

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theasstour · 4 years

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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟐𝟔.𝟑𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

A/N: As you’re all aware, the Philippines was hit by a category 5-equivalent super typhoon two weeks ago. The typhoon is the world’s strongest storm this year and has brought with it unimaginable destruction. Here’s a link to #RescuePH where you can read more about what’s happening in the Philippines right now. There are also donation links there! If you don’t have the means to donate – which is very understandable - here’s a link to a video to watch on YouTube where all ad revenue goes to those affected by the typhoon! I have learned so much about Filipino culture these last few months writing ST as well as gotten to know some incredible Filipinos along the way, and the news of the typhoon has rocked me to my core. If you feel like, you can play the video in the background while you’re reading this massive chapter! Enjoy the final chapter 🧡💛 I love you all so much!

Sunday, 9 August

“It’s a beautiful day out,” Y/N’s mother said as she looked out over Porthminster Beach, leaning her head back a little and letting a salty breeze rustle up her grey hair. “Shame we’re spending it in the shade.”

Y/N glanced up at the roof overhead that offered rescue in the sweltering summer sun. Though she loved the sun as well and wanted to spend as much time in it as possible before summer ended soon, she knew that this chat would have her sweating enough without them sitting out of the shade the Porthminster Beach Café provided. Y/N looked down at her iced lemon tea, inhaling slowly as to calm herself. All day yesterday, Y/N had been too anxious to do anything but stay in her room and think about today. While in the lighthouse the day before yesterday, Y/N had sent her mother a text message asking if the two of them could talk without her father or Dominic being present. She knew her mother would’ve told them by now where she was and what she was doing, but she appreciated the fact that she had listened to Y/N’s request and not brought them.

“Didn’t get to go to a proper beach this summer,” Mrs McKay went on, eyes on the sea and where the waves crashed softly against shore. “The family could’ve gone someplace nice, would’ve been good for us.”

Y/N didn’t say anything.

“Think we all just need a break. Go somewhere to forget about everything and reflect on our lives.”

Y/N still kept her mouth shut, knowing that she had to choose her words carefully so that her mother would fully understand.

“Do you remember when we went to that beach in Florida and you saw that sting ray?” Mrs McKay chuckled a little to herself.

“And I screamed for help ‘cause it scared me.”

Mrs McKay laughed some more at the memory, studying the beach some more. “That was truly something else. Not something you’d normally do.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that.

“Don’t you miss those days? When everything was simple?” Mrs McKay seemed to be completely lost in her own head and memories, thinking back to a time she had clearly glorified.

“I don’t…” Y/N trailed off, furrowing her brows. “I don’t think everything was that simple back then, or now, for that matter.”

“What do you mean?” Mrs McKay asked. “Don’t you think the family would benefit from taking some time off and just relax like we did back then?”

“It’s…” Y/N glanced at her iced tea. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if it would’ve been a good idea for the family to reconnect again?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not? We need to talk about everything that’s happened these past few months. And especially what happened two days ago, because your father and I agree, Y/N, that was very irresponsible of you, throwing yourself out of a moving vehicle like that.”

“I know it was, I’m aware,” she said. “But in that moment, and I think you know this deep down, that was the only solution. You wouldn’t have stopped to let me out.”

Mrs McKay sighed. “We should definitely think about that holiday I just suggested, it’d be nice.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, studying her mother for a moment before she spoke for the first time in a few minutes. “I don’t… I don’t think it would be, Mum.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wouldn be nice to go on that holiday.”

Mrs McKay finally looked at her daughter, eyes following her outline slowly with a slight tilt to her head as if she was trying to assess what was best to say in this sort of situation. “The beach is always nice.”

“I wasn’t referring to the beach. I was referring to family time.”

Mrs McKay nodded her head slowly, bringing her glass of water up to her lips to take a slow sip.

“I think… I’ve wanted to talk to you about this for a while now. I think you’ve known it would happen as well.”

Her mother didn’t answer.

“I just… I just want to talk about everything and what’s gonna happen going forward. I don’t want there to be anything left unsaid after this.”

Mrs McKay kept her eyes on the table and nodded again. “Alright. What did you want to talk about?”

“Well… a lot, really.”

“Better start then.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, taking a quick sip of her iced tea before she turned her attention back on her mother, reaching for the ball of courage she had gathered from thinking about and getting ready for this the past two days. “I think ever since I was born, you’ve put pressure on me to live the kind of life you couldn’t when you were younger. When you got me, you saw possibility to make something right that you yourself hadn’t been able to.-”

“-That’s not true.”

“Let me finish. I think, until you got me, you were lonely. Dad wasn’t exactly a fucking dream-“

“-Watch your language.-“

“-And you didn’t really have any friends, so the second I was born, you finally had someone. You could do whatever you wanted with me. Or at least, that’s what you thought,” Y/N said. “You projected this image onto me of what you thought the perfect daughter, the perfect woman, would be, and ‘cause I was terrified of letting you and Dad down, I went along.”

“You’d never do that.”

“But I have. And I will.”

Mrs McKay furrowed her brows, but before she was able to say anything else – though she’d talk over people if she so had to, Y/N knew.

“I’ve been so conflicted, mum.” Y/N heard her own voice break, and it wasn’t till then that she realised that she was close to tears. The lines between Mrs McKay’s brows deepened at the sound. “Part of me hates you.”

Mrs McKay’s face fell at that.

“It hates you so much. It hates you for the days you told me you noticed I’d lost weight and how beautiful I now looked, it hates you for never being interested to listen to me talk about what I’m passionate about, it hates you for belittling said passions and making me feel stupid for having ambitions.”

“Y/N-“

“-It hates you for making me feel conflicted when I first followed my dreams, ‘cause I didn’t know if I was supposed to follow my own or the ones you’d laid out for me just to please you momentarily. Hates you for the trauma you caused me. For the countless hours spent in front of a mirror pointing out my flaws, and taking a really long time to realise that said flaws aren’t that. For hearing your voice in my head when I make a mistake, telling me how I should’ve known better.”

Now it was Mrs McKay’s turn to be stunned to silence, just watching Y/N with a steel face, refusing to show any sign of emotion.

“But…” Y/N dug her nails into her palms, telling herself that she could cry when she got back to the Inn, but not now. “But the other part of me, one that I hate most of all, still loves you.”

Mrs McKay’s lip was a thin line and Y/N recognised that face. That face appeared when her mother was unsure of how to feel about something, but by the looks of the slight tremor in her cheeks, Y/N knew her words had gotten through.

Y/N sobbed, hoping no one around them could hear and that no one she knew were around to witness this. “It loves you ‘cause you’re my mum. You brought me into this world, and you’ve stuck by me. You made me feel loved when I was younger, and I used to look up to you. You used to be my role model.”

Mrs McKay looked away.

“That part makes me feel so horrible, ‘cause how can you love someone who brought you so much self-loathing and misery? How is that possible?” Y/N was quick to wipe away the tear on her cheek. “But I do. I can’t erase that or you from my memory. Part of me is going to miss you after this.”

Mrs McKay met Y/N’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to contact me again. None of you. Not you, not Dad, not Dominic.”

Mrs McKay looked absolutely dumbfounded. “I beg your pardon?”

“You three brought me so much torment I don’t want you in my life anymore.”

“Y/N, you’re being ridiculous-“

“-If you want to contact me or meet me, you have to ask me via text message if I am okay with that. If I say yes, that only makes it a one-time thing, we are not going to stay in contact after it. If I say no, don’t try to persuade me, manipulate me, or make me feel bad about it. I’m pushing you out of my life for a reason.”

“Try to think rationally for once-“

“-If you do not respect this and come after me again, I’ll file a restraining order against you, Dad, and Dominic. Won’t look too good on Dad’s record now, will it?”

Mrs McKay just sat there staring again.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Mrs McKay didn’t react.

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

Y/N nodded then, picking up her iced tea and hoping her mum didn’t see how her hand was trembling slightly.

“You don’t want any contact with your family? The people who are supposed to love you unconditionally-“

“-You might love me, but it’s not in a way that’ll help me grow. Which is what love is all about. St Ives and the people I’ve met here, those are my family. This is home now.”

Mrs McKay took a few moments to think before she said, with a voice so ice cold it made Y/N’s hair stand on end, “You can’t choose your family. You’re put into this world- you’re placed somewhere, where you belong.”

“No. Family and belonging are not synonymous. You are my birth family, but I can choose who I consider to be in my closest circle, the people that mean the most to me,” Y/N said. “You are not that.”

A short silence stretched out between them before Mrs McKay said, “What about your father’s business? The one he inherited from his father, your grandfather.”

“What about it?” Y/N asked. “You never even bothered to tell me what it is.”

“Oh, it’s got something to do with electronic pins. You know those you have in your phone?”

Y/N just looked at her mother.

“I’ve never bothered to ask much, Y/N, it hasn’t ever been very interesting to me.”

“Maybe it would’ve been to me if you’d just let me in on it from the start instead of assuming I was too dim to take on the role as CEO.”

Mrs McKay’s eyes narrowed as if she was about to protest, but she must’ve realised her daughter was speaking the truth because she did not object.

“Can’t Dad just let someone else be CEO? Someone who is actually good at their job instead of giving the job away to Dominic?”

“Dom is qualified for the role.”

“Sure, but he’s also a fucking arsehole.”

Mrs McKay winced at Y/N’s words.

“Mum, you never even wanted me to know what Dad was doing. Let alone want me to take over for him. It’s never been a problem before that I won’t take over after him, dunno why it would be now.”

Mrs McKay just looked at Y/N, their conversation on replay in her head it seemed because she was conflicted. For the longest time, they just stared at one another and realised what this meant. Y/N had been ready for this conversation for a while now, even though she hadn’t realised how badly it needed to be had till this very second. Mrs McKay, nor the other two that had come here, had truly known how Y/N felt before last night. What Y/N had said along with her actions must have spoken volumes. But this, Y/N was aware, took the cake. She was telling her mother, a person who had given up next to everything for Y/N in a sense, to never contact her again unless she had to. It had to sting, and Y/N knew that she would miss her mother sometimes. Those moments when they’d laugh at something together or those early years where Y/N remembered idolising her mum. She’d miss that. But she would also be so much happier without her in her life.

“Well,” Mrs McKay said, voice trembling. “I should be heading back to your dad. He won’t be too happy about the news.”

“Mum, you can leave him.”

The pitiful smile that graced Mrs McKay’s face after that made Y/N cringe. “I won’t.”

Y/N nodded, watching as her mother got up from her seat. She did as well, giving her mother a small smile to offer some peace, to tell her that it would all be okay. At least in Y/N’s world. Y/N could tell that her mother hesitated at first, but once she stepped forward with her arms spread wide, Y/N walked straight into her embrace. They hugged each other tighter than they had ever hugged before, savouring this last, this peaceful moment that they had together.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” her mum said, rubbing her daughter’s back.

“Bye, Mum.”

They stepped away from one another and her mother smiled at her again. Y/N swore she could see tears welling up in her mother’s eyes, but she chose not to point it out, fully aware that she was about to cry herself. Mrs McKay drank the rest of her water, looked one last time into Y/N’s eyes, and then walked past her, down the stairs, and out of sight.

Monday, 10 August

The teapot was empty and all the biscuits were gone, meaning that Florence, Camila, and Barb were leaving The Roaming Crab Inn. The five of them had been knitting for hours now, and though Y/N had finished her project a while ago, she wanted to spend some more time with the knitting ladies before doing what she had to do. Florence folded the jumper she was working on and Barb hummed some sort of melody while Camila talked everyone’s ears off.

“I’m telling you,” Camila said, putting away her glasses. “The sleeves on this dress are way too big.”

“No, they’re not.” Bessie got up from her seat and walked over to Camila, taking the baby doll lemon dress out of Camila’s hands. Lowering her glasses onto the tip of her nose, she took a closer look. “How many were you supposed to cast off?”

“Three.”

“But then this is correct, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Camila sighed, taking hold of the dress when Bessie gave it back to her.

“Besides, your granddaughter won’t notice if you did the sleeves wrong.”

Camila looked right up at Bessie with narrowed eyes. “So, you admit I made a mistake?”

“No, I just pointed out that if you did, your granddaughter would hardly see it.” Bessie turned back around to go sit down in her chair, meeting Y/N’s eyes and making a grimace as to say that whatever Camila had just knitted, couldn’t have been correct. She sat back down again as Y/N gathered all the cups and the biscuit tray, carrying it all back inside to the kitchen where she put it in the dishwasher.

“Bye, darling,” Barb smiled as she walked past the kitchen. “Your cardigan’s looking wonderful.”

“Thank you, Barbara. See ya,” Y/N smiled, walking upstairs to put on her green woollen jumper. It was getting rather cold out as evening approached, and though Y/N had just finished knitting her summer project, it wasn’t hers to wear. Looking out the window, she saw the glass with a bouquet of dead flowers still standing in her windowsill. She didn’t have the heart to throw it away since doing so would be like binning the last piece of this summer she still had left. Forcing herself to look away, Y/N blinked away the stinging in her eyes as she started walking back down the stairs and the back garden.

All the other ladies had gone, meaning that it was just Y/N and Bessie left. Bessie still sat knitting, smiling at Y/N as she stepped outside.

“Want me to make another brew?” Y/N asked, adjusting her white summer dress under her oversized jumper.

“No, me lover, that’s quite alright. Thank you, though.”

Y/N smiled, sitting back down in her seat and picking up the cardigan. She was picking at some threads that were poking out, some of the many flaws in her first ever knitting project, when Bessie put her vest down and glanced over at her. Y/N looked back at her, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly.

“Is something the matter?” Y/N asked.

“You tell me.”

Y/N huffed, looking back down at her cardigan. “Depends what you’re referring to, I guess.”

Bessie sighed a bit, putting the vest on the table before them. “You haven’t spoken about that chat you had with your mum yesterday.”

Y/N inhaled slowly. “It was a lot to process.”

“We got time.”

Looking up at the older woman again, Y/N was greeted with one of Bessie’s signature warm smiles.

“I told her that I don’t want her, Dad, or Dominic to ever contact me again. She got a bit defensive, but she agreed not to contact me unless necessary.”

Bessie nodded her head slowly. “Do you think she’ll keep that promise?”

“She will, I’m less certain about Dad and Dom.”

Bessie huffed, leaning back against the back of her chair. “That’s men for you, never listen to what a woman has to say.”

“The right ones do.”

Bessie laughed, making Y/N smile a little. “Talking from experience, are you?”

Y/N hoped Bessie couldn’t see her cheeks heat up, but she was sure she noticed, hearing the older woman chuckle heartily before silence settled over them once again.

“You know,” Bessie started, knitting her vest again. “When I was younger, I drew the conclusion that family isn’t always blood and who you’ve spent the most time with. No, family is who makes you feel at home, who makes you feel safe, and loved.”

Y/N looked over at Bessie, biting her bottom lip as it threatened to wobble again.

“Family is who you make it. You don’t owe your parents anything. They might’ve brought you into this world, but they didn’t give you life, you did that yourself. When you decided to leave them, when you came here, when you applied for your UCAT, when you met Harry and everyone else. That’s life. You chose life.”

Y/N couldn’t help her smile, her sight getting blurrier with each passing second, but she didn’t really care just then.

“I’m so proud of you for doing that. It takes a lot of courage to follow your dreams, especially when the environment around you tells you that said dreams aren’t worth it,” Bessie said. “But, you have to remember this, they always are. Every dream is worth it. It’s okay to feel sad after making the right decision.”

A sob escaped Y/N’s lips and Bessie looked up at once, putting the vest away to focus her attention on Y/N who was now full on crying. She hadn’t known how much she needed to hear those words till Bessie finally said them. Holding onto Bessie’s hand for dear life, Y/N looked into the innkeeper’s eyes, trying to smile again, but she couldn’t.

“Bessie, thank you,” Y/N said between sobs. “Truly, thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I love you; I love how far you’ve come.”

Y/N brought a hand up to her mouth, stopping a loud sob from coming out from between her lips. “I don’t know what to do now,” she said once she had calmed down a little. “I don’t know where to go, what to do, how I’m gonna handle University when the time comes. Like, I’ll be 26 by that time and everyone who’s starting will be almost ten years younger than me. It feels like everyone’s sprinted this marathon since forever, and I’ve fallen over and struggled to get up so many times that I’ve fallen behind. I don’t know how I’m gonna get back into the race, you know? I can’t win.”

Bessie pondered over Y/N’s words, watching her intently as she wiped more tears away from her face. “You can still win, Y/N. And even if you don’t win, you still did everything you could, and that’s just as good as winning, is it not?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, looking down at her and Bessie’s joined hands.

“Life doesn’t wait for you. It doesn’t force you to do anything, it just drags you along on a journey and it’s your responsibility to do what you want with your time on earth. You are still so young, you have so much time to do whatever you wanna do. If you lost your youth to controlling parents, abuse, a partner you thought truly loved you but didn’t, if you lost your youth to mental illness, your life isn’t over. There’s no deadline for anything like that in life. If you wanna go to uni now, five-none years after everyone else you know went to uni, then that’s what you’re gonna do. Who says you have to be a certain age, or at a certain stage in your life, or be satisfied with how you look, act, feel, before doing something that ultimately will make you happy? That will make your life worth living? No, life isn’t gonna wait for you to catch up, no one will, but it’s gonna give you opportunities to right your wrongs, to do what will bring you happiness. There’s no deadline, you still have time.”

Y/N met Bessie’s eyes again and the older woman smiled at her, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“All the time in the world,” Bessie said.

“I just don’t know what to do. I just… this feels like home, but after everything that happened last Friday, I’m not sure people want me here.”

“Oh, we do,” Bessie said firmly. “People might not have been happy with you, but they won’t love you any less. This is still your home, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled.

“We are your family now, Y/N. If you need a mum, I’ll be your bloody mum.”

Y/N laughed, leaning forward and bringing Bessie into a hug. Out of everything she had done in the last few days, this was definitely a moment Y/N thought she would cherish forever. This entire summer, Bessie had stood by her. No matter what, Bessie had been beside Y/N, ready to help whenever she needed guidance, and Y/N was unsure if she had ever met someone so willing to love as Bessie. She clung a little tighter onto Bessie, feeling another tear roll down her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling,” Bessie said, a smile in her voice. “Now, all you need to do is revise for the UCAT and give that cardigan to its rightful owner, eh?”

Y/N therefore took the cardigan with her up to her room and sat down by her desk. Though she was sure Harry was home, she was unsure if she’d have the courage to actually knock on the door and give it to him. It’d be better if she just left it there for him, though she knew that would also just look very weird. After everything, she had to face Harry, she was just unsure of how it was all going to play out. It took her a while to find the right words, and once she was done with her final draft letter, she put it on the desk beside the pile of disqualified letters, getting up to find her things and get ready for the trip to the lighthouse. With her stomach hurting from nerves, she put the cardigan in the tote bag, struggling to fit it as she reached for the desk, picking up the letter and shoving it into the tote bag.

With her tote bag on her shoulder, she started on her walk to the lighthouse. She had no idea what Harry would say when she showed up, if he would even allow her to enter his cottage at all. The three days that had passed since the end of summer party felt like ten years each, time had never moved slower. Y/N had waited for this moment for a while now. She had tried to gather the courage she would need for this. But, she kept telling herself this, if she managed to meet her mum and confront her about everything and told her, her dad, and Dominic to stay away from her, then she could walk to Clodgy Point and hand Harry a bloody cardigan. How hard could it be?

However, with each step she took that led her closer to the lighthouse, Y/N felt almost just as anxious, if not worse, than when she walked to meet her mother. There was something about facing Harry after everything that made her mouth dry up. She had absolutely no idea if he would want to see her again after everything, if he could even bear the sight of her after all she put his family and loved ones through. Not only had her father showed up to Jessa’s farm, but Harry had also been violently slammed against his own car and gone into hypo not long after. The mess that had been last Friday had made them both go through emotions neither thought would be possible to endure at once and during one single evening. She wondered if Harry knew she had been to the lighthouse and done the weather reports that night and the following morning.

Walking along Fore Street, Y/N gazed into the shops on either side of the pedestrian street, taking in life in St Ives as she didn’t know what would happen after today. She was originally set to check out of the Inn that morning, August 10th, but Bessie told her it would be alright if she wanted to leave by train later that day. Y/N didn’t know yet where she wanted to go or how far that would be, but all she knew was that she had to be in Plymouth on September 10th to take the UCAT. Besides that, her future looked to be very blurry. It all depended on what happened when she arrived at the lighthouse.

But as she strolled up the hill to Clodgy Point, she didn’t see Harry’s yellow van. Though this was weird at first, she tried to tell herself that he was still home. There hadn’t been a single time that summer when she’d shown up to Harry’s cottage and he hadn’t been there. He was always there.

Knocking on the door though, left Y/N standing there in silence for a single minute, the wild wind, seagulls, and sun overhead the only things keeping her company. She knew it was none of her business looking through the windows into his cottage, but she had to know if he was just ignoring her or if he really wasn’t there. She walked to the side of the house, looking in through the window just beside his bed, the one placed right beside the dining table. The place was empty. Sighing, she walked back over to the door and took her tote bag off her shoulder. She placed it in front of the door, hoping the wind wouldn’t blow it away, and then she got up and walked back the way she came.

It had been stupid to go there in the first place. Of course he wouldn’t be completely by himself after the hypo he had just a few days ago. His family and loved ones would most likely not allow him to be anywhere out of sight till they knew he was alright. Y/N refused to let her eyes start to sting again even though she could feel it coming on. The last few days she had been crying more than she ever had before. She never used to be a big crier, but something about being in St Ives and something about everything, the atmosphere and everyone in this town made her feel much more than before. It made her feel. It made her want.

Returning to the Inn, it was getting much darker out and Cornwall would soon be embraced once again by night. Y/N tried to look for Bessie inside, but the older woman must’ve gone home for a bit because she was nowhere to be seen. Y/N walked back up the steps and to her room, rummaging through her purse for her keys for what could be the last time. It seemed to take more time than usual and she groaned at herself, finding it harder to look for anything when it was so dark everywhere. The dim lighting of the stairs made her stop for a second. Taking a second to just narrow her eyes and get a closer look, Y/N was suddenly able to make out what it was she was seeing.

Bluebells, sea pinks, and hedgerow cranesbills laid neatly right before the door to her room. And though it looked almost just like the bouquets he had made her earlier, this one was almost entirely purple and made out of bellflowers. Y/N reached for it, picking it up and bringing it closer to her face, running her fingers over the soft petals gently as she felt her heart begin to pick up speed. It was as she smelled the flowers that she realised what this meant. Her eyes shot up and she just stared straight ahead at her door as she started breathing fast. He had been here. Harry had stopped by while she was walking to the lighthouse, dropping off the bouquet.

There was no time for hesitation as Y/N shot up into a standing position, running downstairs just as Bessie came back to the Inn.

“Oh! Hello, dear-“

“-Harry’s been here?” Y/N panted, standing in the doorway with the bouquet still in her hand.

Bessie’s eyes fell to the colourful flowers before she met Y/N’s eyes again. “He has.”

“When? Was it long ago?”

“Can’t remember, my darling, I just remember seeing his yellow car outside and there he was.” Bessie tutted softly. “It’s about to fall to pieces, that car of his.”

“You didn’t talk to him?”

A small smile spread out over Bessie’s lips as if she understood exactly what was going on. “I did.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows impatiently. “And?!”

“He asked where you were.”

Y/N waved her hands frantically to get Bessie to tell her what she’d told him in return.

“Told him you’d gone to the lighthouse to find him.”

Y/N ran a hand over her face, inhaling hugely. “Alright. Okay. Deep breaths.”

Bessie watched the younger woman with amusement, cocking her head a little to the side as a knowing smile spread out over her face.

“I… I need to leave. I need to go,” Y/N said. “If he shows up again, tell him I’ll wait.” She ran over to the other side of the street as the sky overhead was a slight darkening blue, tinges of purple and pink along the horizon. She stopped as she got a glimpse of the lighthouse, finally seeing the light. A light that would guide her where she needed to be. And with that, Y/N set off. By Porthminster beach, through Fore Street, flying past slow walkers, running straight for Clodgy lighthouse. She felt the bouquet fall apart, leaving flowers along her path through St Ives in a desperate attempt to get to Harry. To get where she needed and where she was supposed to be.

Though it had been a trek walking up the stone path before, Y/N ran up it with ease this time around. She could see the lighthouse blinking its distinct pattern, could make out some light within the cottage along with the yellow van. A breath left her and her heart began to soar, that shred of hope that had been born from seeing the bouquet in the hotel blossomed. Out of breath and probably very sweaty, Y/N knocked on the door of the cottage. However, like last time, no one opened. So, Y/N tried again, but same luck this time around. She walked out onto the moors and squinted her eyes, trying to look about to see if she could make out Harry’s figure.

“Harry!” she shouted, whipping her head around in different directions to see where he was. “Harry!” She ran beyond the cottage, trying to make out anything, anything at all, against the flat moors. “Where are you?!”

“Y/N!”

It came from overhead. As if an angel was flying just high enough for the wind to carry some of his voice, but low enough so that Y/N could hear him clearly. Turning around, Y/N was sure she was seeing just that, an angel. Harry was standing on the gallery deck of the lighthouse, looking down at her. At the sight of him, Y/N felt an intense tingle go through her entire body. It was an overwhelming sort of happiness, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, and it surrounded her, made the air around her static with anticipation and adoration. The sky behind him was darkening so she couldn’t make out his face, but she would be able to do just that soon enough.

Smiling to herself, she ran for the door. She pulled it open and let it slam behind her as she ran up the steps. Past the office, past the bedroom, past everything, till she made it to the very top. Panting and thighs burning, she opened the door on the topmost floor. The ladder to the bell room stood to her right, but she turned left and walked out onto the gallery deck where she’d seen Harry.

There he stood, right under the blinking light. He was looking at her with his lips slightly parted, hair as unkempt as usual, and a look of relief and shock on his face. They were left there just staring at each other for a little while, neither of them able to voice what they had been thinking about for the last three days. Everything from her jumping out of the car to get him, to helping him with his hypo, to doing the weather report, to talking to her mum, and the cardigan. The cardigan. Y/N was ashamed of how long it had taken her to notice it, she blamed the darkening sky above them.

Harry was wearing the colourful square cardigan she had knitted him and placed in front of his door. The one she had put there not even an hour earlier along with her note. Biting her lips together, she let her eyes wander his body. She took in the Elton John tee shirt he was wearing and the loose light washed denim jeans along with his black Vans. But her eyes lingered on what he was holding in his hand. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath halted. Their eyes met again, and Harry’s jaw was now working, trying to find the right words as he so rarely did.

“What’s that?” she asked him in a small voice, gesturing at his hand.

He looked down at it before looking up at her again, holding it up for her to see. A book. And not just any book. Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. Her favourite book by her favourite author. The one she had been reading to him in the field beside the lighthouse all summer. Her eyes began to sting again and she wondered once again how many times she would find herself crying in the span of just a couple of days.

“I, uhm…” He looked at it, opening it on the page where he rested his finger. “I just got to this bit right here- I mean, the whole book is rather confusing ‘cause of the whole stream of consciousness thing going on, but…” He pointed a finger at the line he’d been reading. “This right here made sense. Very much.”

The light from the lighthouse continued to shine its pattern across the coast before and around them, making some of Harry temporarily light up. It just strengthened her argument from before, that he was an angel.

“’Nothing is so strange when one is in love,’” Harry said.

“’As the complete indifference of other people,’” Y/N finished and Harry looked up at once, taken aback by her interruption but not at all offended.

He nodded his head slowly. “Yeah.” A few moments passed before he said, with such a soft voice it felt like a caress against Y/N’s skin, “I dunno what’s really going on in that book, to be fair, but… but I understood that. That line made sense.”

“It’s not the best book to start off on if you’re getting into Woolf’s work.”

“Yeah, alright, but I had to, didn’t I?”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s your favourite. It-“ He stopped himself, swallowing thickly as he shut the book again and kept eye contact with her. “It was a piece of you. I…” He inhaled slowly. “I didn’t know when I’d see you next- if I ever would again, and… Mrs Dalloway and Woolf just… It reminded me of you. It was a piece of you.”

Y/N wanted to walk closer to him.

“It was all those moments spent out in the field listening to you read it out loud, or just watching you while you did so. I…” He shrugged. “I might not know what’s going on in the book, but I don’t really give a fuck ‘cause if reading it will somehow bring me back to that and back to you, then I’ll bloody well do it.”

Her eyes fell to the book, biting her lips together before glancing up into his eyes again.

“I just wanted a moment. Whatever moment. A single moment with you. I’ve been so… so desperate these last few days,” he said, letting go of a small, but shaky breath. “I just wanted to be. Wanted to be with you. In whatever form, whatever I could get. Just be. Just exist in a place, in a memory, where I was in your presence.”

“Harry-“

“-And if you’re here to say goodbye… I just need this one. This moment. I just need to take it in. I just need to live with you for some seconds.”

Her lips fell apart even more and she furrowed her brow slightly. “Did you not read the letter I left with the cardigan?”

Harry pulled the book up again, tapping his finger against something resting between the cover and the first page. Was he using it as a bookmark?

“So, you read it?”

“’I’ve been knitting this all summer, it looked more like something that would fit you than me. The colours reminded me of you and how you made me feel. Love, Y/N.’”

Ignoring the fact that he had memorised the letter, she groaned slightly, scratching at her neck as she kept her eyes on the letter.

“Well… then I put one of the draft letters with the cardigan.”

Harry frowned.

“I didn’t know what I wanted to say to you, I wrote like 500 draft letters before I actually landed on something like ‘I’ll be at the Inn, please come see me’, but it doesn’t seem like I put that one in there.”

“No,” he said quickly. “You didn’t.”

“But then I saw the bouquet outside my door and Bessie said you’d dropped by. And since we hadn’t talked in days, I didn’t know what you thought of me and everything that had happened.”

“Grace told me. Dax, too.”

She just looked at him.

“Gracie told me you arrived with blood on your elbow and knee, that you helped wake me up, and Dax…” Harry sighed. “Well, he said he knew there was something going on, but he realised that, though we had been faking it, he knew then, just by watching you fuss over me and run for the lighthouse, that you actually cared about me. And he knows me well enough to just see it plainly on me that I have feelings for you, too.”

Y/N didn’t really know what to say. It was true. She cared about him. So very much. But she hadn’t thought about how it would look to Grace and Dax who had, mere hours before, heard that Harry and Y/N’s relationship had been a lie since the start.

“I… Y/N, I wanted to come to the Inn. I’ve wanted to see you ever since Friday, but Jessa wouldn’t let me out of sight and told me to rest for at least a day. And then, on Sunday, I went to the Inn but Bessie said you were out. So… I tried again today, but I wanted to make sure you knew I’d been by in case you were out again, so I left the bouquet.” His eyes fell to her hand, a small smile on his lips. “With bellflowers.”

When Y/N looked down onto her hand again where there had once been a beautiful bouquet. She remembered how she had felt flower upon flower split from between her fingers as she ran for the lighthouse, they were strewn along the path up to the lighthouse now. There was only a single one left in her hand. A bellflower.

“And I made you that cardigan,” Y/N said, looking up at him again. “It’s not perfect. There some faults here and there, a few holes, it’s a bit fucked-“

“-I don’t care,” Harry blurted out. “I like that it’s a bit fucked. I like when you can see the progress, when you can tell that someone’s struggled, but it’s turned out alright. I love it.”

Y/N couldn’t help her smile. She looked down at the flower in her hand, feeling herself clutch it a little tighter, not wanting to let it go.

“Do you…” Harry trailed off, watching her as she met his eyes again. “No, forget it.”

“No, what?”

“It’s stupid, really-“

“-Nothing’s ever stupid, Harry, what’s on your mind?”

“Well…” He shrugged his shoulders, looking down at the bellflower in her hands. “Do you remember when we were on the beach and we talked about your favourite books and started to discuss whether or not destiny is real?”

There was no hesitation before Y/N nodded, remembering every single moment of this past summer in vivid detail.

“You said you believe balance and energy, that you get what you deserve based on what you’ve done, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And I believe that the universe brings us someplace or something ‘cause it’s already got this perfectly sculptured plan for us, where we’re supposed to end up.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve thought about that conversation these past few days, ‘cause…” He thought for a few seconds, finding his words. “I think we got what we deserved.”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We lied to everyone. We lied to people we love, to ourselves, and… the universe didn’t want us to lie. It didn’t want us to fake it.”

She tightened her hold on the bellflower, more wind blowing past them where they stood at the top of the lighthouse, the lamp shining its familiar sequence above them.

“Y/N, we’ve done it all wrong. We got what we deserved ‘cause we didn’t do it right.”

“What are you saying?”

“Our theories? You with your energy and balance and me with destiny? It’s all connected, don’t you understand?”

She just looked at him, too awestruck to think clearly.

“You’re right, we did the universe wrong so it got back at us by having our worlds fall apart around us last Friday. And destiny… well, we met and we did it wrong.”

“Then what would’ve been the right way?”

“To never have initiated the fake relationship at all. We should never have done it.”

A small pang of hurt erupted in Y/N’s chest and she furrowed her brows slightly. “Then we wouldn’t have really met each other, though.”

“But we would’ve. I ran into you; I shouldn’t have asked you to be my fake girlfriend. If I had just asked you out…” Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “Who the fuck am I kidding? I wouldn’t have done that; I was way too nervous around you then.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up and she hoped Harry couldn’t tell how flustered she was.

“It was wrong of us to do it.”

“It wasn’t.”

“But it was, Y/N,” Harry said. “’Cause… it was never fake. Not really. We pretended to be a couple, but… it was never fake, not for me. My feelings for you, they’re not, and have never been, fake or a lie.” He took a small step forward, lips parted for a moment before he spoke again. “Every time I’ve touched you, or done something affectionate, or acted like someone who might be in love with you, it’s because I was. I am.”

A breath left her lips and her heart beat out of her chest, a rush of ecstasy flowing through her veins so quickly it made her dizzy with happiness.

“I’m in love with you. I… I’m so immeasurably in love with you, Y/N, that every moment without you, or any moment when I don’t have you close to some capacity, is insignificant. Woolf is right about that. Everything is much more important, I feel so much more than I did before you, all my senses are heightened, but I feel the most for you. It’s been like that for a while now.”

Y/N walked over to him, eyes on his before she looked down at the bellflower between them. “I didn’t…” She bit her lip for a second. “I didn’t really know what love was till I came to St Ives. I knew what it was to kind of love someone, I know that… to some degree I love my mum. I cared about Dominic, and I even loved Dad when I was little.” She glanced up again. “But I’ve never felt love like this. I’ve never been on the receiving end, never loved as much as I’ve done this summer. I feel so full of it. You know when you fill a bucket or a glass or anything with water, and the second it pours over the brim, the water envelopes it? That’s how this summer has felt.”

Harry smiled a little, his right dimple showing.

“You showed me what it means to love and be loved in return, that is what we’re put on this planet to do. What is life if you’re not loved and you don’t love?”

He just looked at her, eyes tracing her face and taking in each one of her features.

“It was never fake, Harry. Never.” The smile on his face disappeared and a shaky breath slipped from between his lips. “I’ve been falling in love with you all summer. I didn’t even realise how hard and fast it had happened till you kissed me at Porthgwidden Beach,” she said. “Even… Even if you kissed me just for show.”

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head quickly before he looked at her again, not sure if he’d heard her correctly. “What?”

“You kissed me-“ She stopped herself, tilting her head at him. “You kissed me to show off that we were a couple… right?”

“No, I didn’t,” he said. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? Everything I’ve ever done has never been for show. Nothing was a lie. I wanted to kiss you at Porthgwidden. I had wanted to kiss you for a while.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Y/N, I always want to kiss you,” Harry admitted. “Always.”

She couldn’t help her slight smile. “Nothing was for show?”

“Nothing.”

“Everything was real?”

He looked down, finger tracing the petals of the bellflower in her hand. “We’re real, flower. Our feelings are real.”

“Then… if you always want to kiss me,” Y/N said, voice low and filled with purpose. He looked up at her quickly. “Why aren’t you kissing me right now?”

Another breath left Harry’s lips and he ended up just staring at her. The entire summer flashed before them as their eyes drifted from each other’s eyes to their lips and back up again. Them running into one another, going to Grace’s birthday, the kamayan on the beach, and everything that followed. Her reading to him in the grass, looking up every now and again to catch him watching her, a tinge of pink on his cheekbones as he looked away, doing his best to hide his smile which in turn made it impossible for Y/N to hide hers. Everything passed between them in those seconds where Y/N waited for him to kiss her. It was a whole summer of miscommunication, wrong-doings, and making up for mistakes, everything had come to this.

Harry raised his hand, slowly sliding his thumb over her cheek before he settled his fingers at the nape of her neck. They leaned into one another, resting their foreheads together and for a little moment, they just stood there. She let him hold onto her as she moved to slide her hands up his back, still holding onto the bellflower. Y/N glanced upward, the lamp of the lighthouse turning on. Seeing the light, she felt peace run through her. This was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Looking back at Harry, her eyes lingered on his lips before she met his eyes again. With that, he leaned in, and pressed his lips softly against hers. The light overhead turned on again and Y/N knew, without a shadow of a doubt, this was home. The taste of Harry’s lips, his hands on her neck and hips, his breath against her cheek; just having him in her presence, that was where she belonged.

They detached their lips for a short second, eyes meeting. “You’re staying?” he asked.

“I’m staying,” she answered. “If you want me to.”

There was a slight pause where they just looked at one another. She saw a smile form on Harry’s lips before he leaned in again, kissing her more fiercely. She felt his smile against her lips, making her smile back, unable to help herself. Harry tried to widen their lips so his tongue could trace hers, but their smiles were too wide, and their teeth ended up sliding against one another, making Y/N laugh and Harry giggle. They opened their eyes again, just looking at one another and smiling until they calmed down, kissing one another again.

This time, Harry managed to open their mouths in unison, tongues gliding against one another, and they were finally able to taste one another again. Nothing else mattered as they drew out the kiss, letting the heavenly rush that was going through their bodies in that moment take over completely. They were buzzing with electricity, shining like a star where they stood joined together. Y/N was sure that the lamp inside the lighthouse could go out, and her and Harry would light up the entire world and guide everyone who needed help, home.

She slung her arm around his neck, the hand clutching the bellflower rested on his shoulder and they deepened the kiss. It was the happiest moment of her life, standing there, at the top of the lighthouse, with Harry. There would be nothing like this ever. Everything had led to this. It was as Harry had said, everything else was so much more colourful now, but so insignificant in comparison to him, to this. How had she ever thought she’d live a life without him in it?

“You can spend the night,” Harry said once they had regained their breaths. “We don’t have to do anything; I just want you to stay here with me.”

She smiled at him, letting go of a breathy chuckle. “I’ll stay the night.”

He smiled back, kissing her temple. “I just want you as close as possible.”

She turned her face and pressed her lips against his again, closing her eyes and melting into him again. He gripped her face gently, pulling her to him and moaning softly against her, his wet lips making a hot shiver run up her spine that absolutely no one but Harry had been able to conjure. An early autumnal wind blew past them and though it was a cold breeze, Y/N felt herself radiate warmth. They giggled against one another when they realised they had completely forgotten where they were, the plans from earlier about going downstairs.

Harry took Y/N’s hand and the two walked back down the stairs, Harry carrying Mrs Dalloway and Y/N the bellflower. Once they reached the cottage, Y/N walked straight over to the kitchen and found a small glass she could put the flower in, and once it was filled with some water, she put it on the dining table, smiling a little at it. Harry walked over and sat down in the windowsill Y/N had spent countless hours studying for her UCAT, he watched her as she marvelled at the bellflower, studying it in the dim light of the cottage.

“What’ve you been up to the past few days?” Harry asked as Y/N sat down by the dining table.

“Been knitting that,” she said, nodding in the direction of the cardigan Harry was still wearing. “And I had a chat with Mum.”

Harry paused for a few seconds, letting the words Y/N had just uttered sink in. “You… You talked?”

“Yeah.”

“Did your parents and-“ Harry made a grimace as if saying the name made him ill. “Dominic show up unannounced again?”

Y/N tried not to smile. “No, I asked Mum to meet me.”

“Oh.” Harry nodded his head some, letting the words sink in. “Alright.”

“I just wanted to make it very clear that I don’t want anything to do with them again. Told her that if they came close to me or tried to meet me without letting me know and talking to me beforehand, I’ll file a restraining order or summat like that. I dunno how to do it or if the situation is, like, qualified for one-“

“-Jo will help. They work for a law firm; they’ll know what to do.”

“I’d appreciate that very much.” She sighed. “If Jo and the rest of St Ives will ever truly forgive what we did.”

Harry’s eyes fell to his hands in his lap, letting some silence settle between them before he said, “Yeah, Jessa wasn’t impressed.”

There had not been a moment prior to this when Y/N had felt angrier and more ashamed of herself. Out of everyone she had met in her life up until that point, and probably forever, Jessa was one of the most accepting and kindest people she had ever met. The fact that she had not only disappointed Jessa but also hurt her, made Y/N so thoroughly sad that it was hard not to scream out in anger.

“Did she…” Y/N trailed off, gesturing with her hands as Harry looked up at her again. “Did she talk to you about everything when you stayed at the farm with them that day after your hypo?”

Harry shook his head. “No. She barely spent any time with me, just told Grace to keep me company while she tended to the farm. She didn’t want to let me be alone, though. She can be mad at me, but she still can’t be that mad, you know what I mean?” Harry chuckled some. “Got the biggest heart out of anyone I know, Jessa does.”

Y/N smiled a little at that. “She had to know you’d be alright.”

“I heard you went up to the lighthouse to do the weather reports.”

She bit her lips together, remembering that night in vivid detail.

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much for that.”

“You couldn’t do them, and someone had to.”

Harry chuckled. “You’re making it sound like it was dreadful.”

“It was!” He laughed even more at her exclamation. “I was proper freaking out!”

“But you did an amazing job! Everything you’ve written down is correct and I can guess then that your report was as well.”

She smiled. “I hope so.”

Harry smiled back, getting up to take the cardigan off and put it on a hanger by his dresser.

“Who did it after I left? I went back to the Inn after the 9am one.”

“Dax told me you were at the lighthouse and when he got your text saying you’d be leaving, he told me, I called Trinity House, and another lighthouse keeper off-duty came and stepped in for the day.”

“Okay, good,” Y/N said. “I was scared I just left it in the hands of no one, but I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did plenty. Thank you, genuinely.” Harry looked at the clock on the wall, letting go of a long sigh before he walked over to the lamp by his sofa, turning it off.

“I…” Y/N said, cracking the knuckle of her thumb as nervousness suddenly flooded her. She had thought about this a fair amount since the party last Friday and she felt like it had to be addressed. “The piano piece you played at the end of summer party,” Y/N started, making Harry look over at her. “It was beautiful.”

“You mean your song?”

Y/N felt lightheaded at him addressing it like that.

“It kinda just came to me throughout the summer. The first bit was just us laying in the grass and as it picks up you can kinda tell how much you begin to mean to me,” he explained. “It’s nostalgic, it’s what I was going for anyway. You don’t really know if you should be happy or sad, ‘cause the memories make you feel both at the same time.” He walked over to the foyer and locked the front door, turning the lights off, closing the door leading out there, separating them from the entrance. “Played it for Grace a couple of times and I was gonna play it for you, but… well, then everything went to shit, didn’t it?”

Y/N let out a small chuckle, looking down at her hands. “Yeah, everything fell apart all at once.”

“It did,” he agreed, turning a lamp on top of his dresser off. “But we made it, didn’t we?”

She smiled at that.

Harry paused for few seconds, looking out through the major window at the far-end wall where he had just been seated, furrowing his brows as he thought. It was as if he had just remembered something, biting his lips together as his eyes fell to the floor again. Not knowing what was on his mind, Y/N kept her mouth shut.

“I… I can’t remember much from last Friday,” he confessed, looking back up through the window. “It’s not even a blur, it’s just… it’s not there.”

Y/N just looked at him.

“Usually what happens when my blood sugar’s low. I get dizzy, start to sweat and I shake, and I’ll be very irritable, the slightest thing will tick me off.” Harry walked over to the dining table, sitting down next to Y/N. “And, if I go into a hypo, I won’t remember the hypo, or most of the moments leading up to it. I’ll just slowly jolt out of it and realise what’s happening.”

She nodded, eyes falling to his hands that were folded together on the table before him.

“I remember your family arriving and I remember being scared out of my bloody mind when I realised what was going on- when you and Bessie fucked out of the barn. I knew something was up. I kind of had a hunch as to what it was, but… I didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t.”

She wanted to reach for his hand.

“I didn’t even know who they were, you hadn’t shown me any pictures of them, so I couldn’t tell from just looking at them, but I knew. An old married pair and that… that ruddy tosser – don’t even wanna say his name – came out of that car, and I just knew. I couldn’t let you go with them.”

“I’m sorry-“

“-No,” Harry stopped her. “No, I get why you did. Didn’t wanna cause a scene, and all that.”

She nodded. “Thought it’d be better if I went, didn’t want to fight with them in front of everyone.”

Harry looked up at her. “You fought with them?”

“Not a physical fight.”

“A man can only dream.”

She laughed.

“You should’ve levelled He Who Must Not Be Named while you still had the chance.”

She grinned at him. “When I become a dentist and he’s my patient, I’ll pull all his teeth out without any anaesthetics. How ‘bout that?”

Harry smiled back. “That’ll be a right laugh.”

She giggled, looking down at his hands again.

“What happened in the car then? You had an argument?”

Biting at her bottom lip, Y/N thought about the entire car incident before looking up into Harry’s eyes again. “I told them I wouldn’t come back to Hampshire, that I wouldn’t move in with Dominic, that-“

“-They wanted you to move in with that grotesque git?!” Harry sounded flabbergasted.

She smiled a little again. “Yes, well, Mum and Dad don’t really care what I think as long as it looks good, you know.”

Harry nodded, motioning for her to continue on explaining.

“And then I told them I was doing a UCAT exam. None of them believed it or wanted me to take it, and that’s when Gracie called,” Y/N explained. “I asked Dad to stop the car so I could go back, but he wouldn’t let me out. I kind of realised that nothing would stop him. So, when I felt him stepping on the break before he was about to turn, I told them not to follow me, and I jumped out of the car.”

Harry stared at her, mouth hanging open, blinking multiple times as if he was picturing the entire thing unfold. “You…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You jumped out of their car?”

“To get to you, yeah.”

A small breath left his lips and he continued to just look, a sort of appreciation on his face that made Y/N warm with pleasure. Again, she felt an urge to reach for his hand and hold onto him, to check if he was okay. Reliving those memories in her head and talking about them, made her also revisit the feelings of dread at the news of Harry’s hypo. Just wanting to get to him, just wanting to see he was alright.

“You’re bloody mad,” he said, a breathy chuckle following his utterance. “Brilliant, but out-of-your-mind mad at the same time.”

Y/N laughed again, smiling at Harry. “Did you feel the hypo coming on?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, scratching at his jaw as his eyes fell on the dark field beyond the window beside the kitchen table. “Yeah, I usually feel them. This time around there was so much happening all at once, I didn’t really feel it till it happened. I’m usually very good at regulating my blood sugar, not had a shock like that in years.”

She leaned her elbows on the table, taking a grip of her upper arms as she watched him talk.

“I used to not want to take my insulin pens out in front of people after we had a meal out or stuff like that, it used to make me feel very vulnerable. I used to feel exposed, as if I was showing people a secret of mine that I didn’t want them in on. It was the same when I was overweight, I didn’t wear revealing or tight-fitted clothes ‘cause I didn’t want people to think I was bigger, you know what I mean? The better I could hide it from everyone else, the easier I could hide it from myself. So, I had a few hypos when I was younger.”

Two lines appeared between his brows as he thought, Y/N wanted to reach over and stroke them away.

“I think I was just so used to hiding parts of myself – big parts – that made it almost instinctive, hiding the fact that I was diabetic. I thought there was something wrong with me at first, ‘cause this would change my entire life, you know?” He let out a chuckle. “But then I went to this event thingy where I met other kids with diabetes, and I realised that it was much more common than I’d ever thought before. Not only that, but it had been stupid of me to ever hide it, to be ashamed of it. When you’re a kid, all you want is to fit in. You don’t wanna stick out or give anyone a reason to pick on you in any way. All the bullying before had really made an impact, I never wanted to experience it again, you know?” He sighed. “Some people will bully you for anything, especially those things you cannot help.”

Y/N furrowed her brows as she listened to him.

“But I was surrounded by people who made me realise that life is too short to be embarrassed, especially about things you cannot change. People who judge others for what they choose to do with their lives, are often the ones who still struggle to know who they are themselves, constantly critiquing others for their quirks and wrong-doings as if it’ll erase their own.”

Y/N smiled a little, nodding her head. “Yeah, my thighs have always been bigger,” she said. “I used to hate them ‘cause Mum would point them out and tell me I’d be wise to lose weight, but-“ Y/N shrugged. “-I like the way they jiggle when I walk, and though thigh chafing is an absolute pain, I still find them cute. It took me some time to realise that, of course. Especially when the environment around me keeps telling me they are. But I couldn’t care less, to be fair. Though it doesn’t feel like it at times, there are far more important things in life than an insignificant opinion. Big thighs save lives, do they not?”

The frown on Harry’s face has evaporated as Y/N spoke, a soft smile left in its wake. “Too right.”

Y/N smiled back.

“I love your thighs. They just-“ Harry made to reach for them, but stopped himself. Y/N laughed at him as he blinked himself out of some sort of trance.

“They what?”

“They’re pretty.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up instantly. No one had ever said that. That they liked her thighs. It only made those butterflies inside Y/N’s tummy flutter their wings even more wildly, not knowing how to properly act around Harry anymore.

“I was about to say something that would be a bit inappropriate,” Harry mumbled.

“What?”

“No, I can’t say. It’ll ruin the mood.”

“Nothing will ever ruin the mood, Harry.”

“Fine,” Harry hissed, inhaling quickly. “I just wanted to say that I really like the feel of them against my cheeks. They’re so soft. So… so soft.”

Her entire body went hot at that, because not only did it take her off guard, but she instantly remembered the feeling of his slight scruff against the inside of her thighs. Just thinking about it made her all dizzy with a need to feel it again. It all came sneaking up on her so suddenly that she was left biting her bottom lip, just looking at Harry as she clambered for things to say.

“See!” Harry exclaimed, chuckling. “Ruined the mood!”

“It just took me by surprise!”

“Right,” he laughed, getting up from the chair.

“I’m sorry for turning the lights out, it’s 9pm and I usually go to bed then. Gotta be up in about five hours.”

“Of course,” Y/N said, getting up. “We’ll… I’ll let you go to bed.”

“You’re not coming to bed?”

She just stared at him for a few moments. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“Assume,” Harry said, walking towards the bathroom.

Y/N laughed, following after him.

The two brushed their teeth together, Y/N using the toothbrush she had used the times before when she’d been there. Turns out, Harry had never thrown it out in case they would find themselves in this position multiple times. They took their time as Y/N ended up laughing at Harry, toothpaste dribbling down his chin. He told her that always happened and Y/N thought this was odd as Harry had a fairly big mouth.

Once again, he lent her a tee shirt. This time around, she only slept in that and her knickers, not really caring that Harry saw her in them as he’d seen her naked before. Harry only wore his boxers, putting on his sleep mask as Y/N picked up Mrs Dalloway where Harry had put it on the bed. Getting under the covers, she opened it on the page where he’d left off, smiling a bit to herself as she read a few passages. With a window open and most of the lights turned out except for the lamp on the nightstand, Harry got into bed with a grunt, pulling the covers over him. He glanced over at her, studying her face as she read, how her eyes flickered from word to word, line to line, paragraph to paragraph.

“Creep,” she mumbled, and Harry chuckled a little, getting into a comfortable position on his side so he could watch her.

“Read to me?” he asked, voice hoarse with on-coming sleep and Y/N found it so endearing and the question so familiar that a tingling sensation ran from her toes all the way up to the hair roots at the top of her head.

And so she did as he asked. She read from Mrs Dalloway, so softly and carefully that she almost lulled herself off to sleep. However, Harry was clinging to consciousness all he could. He would almost drift off but come back with a jolt, eyes wide open as if he tried to fight sleep, watching her lazily and intently, not daring to take his eyes off of her in case she wouldn’t be there when he opened them again. But it was only so much he could do, and, in the end, soft snores emitted from her companion, and Y/N put the book away, turning off the last light before joining Harry under the sheets.

It took her a while to fall asleep as well. She was just left staring at Harry, not really believing that this was all real. After everything that had happened these last few days, this almost seemed like a “too good to be true” ending and Y/N was nervous. She was content just being close to Harry like this, this was where she’d always wanted to be, but there was still a lot that needed to be addressed. The two of them had to talk about what would happen next, she needed to talk to everyone else, and she had to continue revising for the UCAT because it was now under a month till she was supposed to take the exam. The many thoughts and uncertain future kept her up like it had the last few nights, and Y/N wondered when she’d get a good night’s sleep.

She jolted awake some hours later, blinking up at the ceiling as Harry got up on his elbow and reached for his phone, turning the alarm off. Y/N watched as he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face to wake himself up a bit. She knew he couldn’t turn the lights on as it would ruin his night vision which he needed when he was out looking at the Stevenson Screen, so her eyes followed him as he got up from the bed and walked over to put the same outfit on that he’d worn before; his denim shorts and a pink tee shirt over it. He glanced over at Y/N, part of him must’ve realised she was awake.

“Alright?” he asked, voice hoarse from sleep and it made Y/N wake up even more. The sound of it made her all hot.

She nodded her head. “Your alarm clock just woke me up.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Harry said, smiling a bit. “You jumped a bit.”

She smiled back as Harry gave her a small nod, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb before he walked out of the cottage and toward the lighthouse.

She wasn’t able to fall back asleep, however. She laid awake, looking up at the ceiling overhead and thinking too many thoughts all at once, her head feeling heavier than it had that entire night. It felt like she hadn’t slept at all, yet also had the deepest sleep of her life. After all, she had been with Harry this entire time, the two of them had talked everything out, they were okay, she should’ve had an amazing night sleep. But there was something that nagged at the back of her mind, something she had not been able to stop thinking about since Harry had said it just before they went to sleep.

“I really like the feel of them against my cheeks. They’re so soft. So… so soft.”

Her thighs. Soft. He liked the feel of them against him, around his face, as his head was between her legs. And then Y/N realised why her night had been so confusing and why it had been hard to fall asleep in the first place. Her body hadn’t forgotten those words. It had reacted to them while her brain had been wistfully unaware, letting it create an ache along her skin that only Harry could do something about. Taking a deep breath, Y/N closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep again.

Her mind immediately travelled back to the times before when Harry had tasted her. Whenever they had the chance to get intimate, he had always insisted on going down on her, like it was a privilege to, like he needed to. Y/N supposed it made sense, as he had told her how much he enjoyed getting his partner off, that knowing he was getting them off got him off. Seeing how hungry he truly was to make someone squirm and cry out his name, Y/N was always astounded by how true he had been to his word. He loved it. And something about that made Y/N’s entire body heat up. She found it so hot that he would do just about anything for someone else if it meant he’d help them over the edge.

Y/N’s eyes opened again, and she turned so her face was hidden in the pillow, screaming into it at how pathetic she was being. A thought had struck her, because she was sure that if she didn’t get rid of this ache now, it’d be even harder for her to fall back asleep afterward. Laying back down on her back, her eyes found the ceiling again and she rested a hand at the very bottom of her tummy. Harry wouldn’t be back for some time still, if she was quick she’d be done by the time he got back. And if she wasn’t quick and didn’t finish, she’d just excuse herself to the bathroom and finish everything quietly in there. Yes, that was a good plan.

Lifting the band of her knickers, Y/N reached down, hoisting her legs up slightly so it’d be easier for her to access all of herself. She ran a finger from her clit and down to her hole, not surprised to find wetness pooling there already. She smeared it out over herself; flicking her fingers over her bud, down to her hole again, making sure each part of her was covered in it. Continuing on like this until she basically found her core aching with a need for her to finish, Y/N started focusing entirely on her bud.

She thought of Harry. Thought of how he had looked while he ate her out from behind, his green eyes peering over at her as he looked over her shoulder at him. And then next came an image of Harry laying on his back in the bed in the lighthouse bedroom, eyes shut tight and mouth in an O-shape, forehead creasing as Y/N sat down on him, taking him into her. A low and long rumble emitted from him, vibrating through her, and Y/N gasped. He was sweaty, needy, and so incredibly hot where he laid under her, completely at her disposal, that it made the room spin around her. It all happened so quickly and it was so easy for her to almost reach a peak that she found herself inhaling sharply, letting go of a moan she had not meant to let pass her lips.

And it had been the worst possible moment for her to moan as well, because the door into the cottage opened and Harry stepped inside. Y/N stopped herself immediately, laying back down as if nothing had happened. However, by the way Harry quickly closed the door and locked it, looking over at her, she was sure he must’ve either heard or seen something. None of them spoke for a moment as they just looked at one another, at a loss for words. Y/N’s entire body felt like it was burning, but this time it was from embarrassment and not from want. If someone could transport her into an alternate dimension where she had chosen not to masturbate in Harry’s cottage while he was out doing the weather report, that would’ve been nice.

Harry’s mouth opened and closed again as he took his shoes off, still not stepping further into the cottage than the foyer. The silence was deafening, and Y/N wanted to scream. Couldn’t he just say something? He already knew partly what she had been doing according to how pink and flabbergasted he was, the least he could do was say something. Y/N didn’t mind him hearing or seeing her. In fact, she quite liked the idea. But she hadn’t intended to make Harry uncomfortable or make him not want to come back to bed.

“Uhm…” Harry said, clearing his throat as he scratched at the back of his neck. “Do you… I can…” He let his arm fall to his side. “I’ll go sleep in the lighthouse if you want some-“

“-No,” Y/N interrupted him. “I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed… I didn’t mean…” But she, like Harry, didn’t really know what to say. What was the right thing to say in a situation like this?

“I’ll step outside if you want to finish.”

“No, I-“ Y/N couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. This whole thing was so awkward and could’ve been so easily prevented. “-It’s fine. You can come back here to bed if you want to sleep next to me.”

Harry chuckled. “Don’t think there’s anywhere I’d rather be, to be honest.”

Y/N bit her lips together, wiping her fingers on her thigh before she positioned herself on her side again. She watched as Harry too his tee shirt off, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought for a few seconds. He didn’t look at her as he asked, “Did you finish, then?”

Y/N felt like she was on fire again, looking away from Harry as he unbuckled his denim shorts. “No, but it’s-“

“-Would you let me give it a try?”

She blinked, meeting his eyes. “Pardon?”

“Let me try to make you finish.” He got into bed with her, not taking his eyes off of her. “Please?”

A chill went up her spine and her centre began to ache painfully again. Not knowing what she was doing till she was doing it, Y/N nodded. Harry removed the covers from over her and Y/N got cold at once, but the sight of Harry’s eyes travelling down her body made her forget about the lack of the duvet at once. He leaned in, kissing her lips softly. It was a lazy sort of kiss, their mouths opening up for one another slowly and their tongues tangling, their lips getting wet and small whimpers emitted from their mouths as the make out session was dragged out. Suddenly, Harry started kissing down her jaw and neck, over her breasts that were covered in his tee shirt and down her body.

“What were you thinking about while you were getting off?” Harry asked, crawling further down the bed until his face rested just above the place she needed him. She was still on her side, Harry resting his head on her right thigh while she was holding up her left one as not to rest it on his head, she’d suffocate him for sure.

“You,” she answered simply, and Harry groaned against her skin, vibrating through her entire body, and especially her clit that was already sensitive from Y/N’s earlier try.

Harry hooked his fingers around the hem of her underwear, moving his head as to get it off, but he didn’t move it past her knees.

“Don’t move these,” he said, gesturing at her underwear. “Want to feel your thighs tight around me.”

“When you were under me, that first time we had sex,” she continued to explain.

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, kissing her folds that were now exposed to him. Y/N bit her bottom lip, looking down at him where he was almost hidden between her legs. “Liked that?”

“Love it when you’re needy.”

Harry kissed her again, making Y/N gasp slightly. “Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve thought about you, too.”

She froze a bit, looking down at him.

“Gotten off to the thought of you. A bit of a sad wank after we shagged in the car. Bloody fucking hell,” Harry said, sounding breathless. “When you wrapped your hand around my throat… so fucking hot.”

Harry didn’t wait for Y/N to say anything however because he ran his tongue over her and she immediately moaned, her left leg shaking as the impact rocked through her. Harry buried himself there between her legs, drawing out his licks over her until he focused solely on her clit. He sucked and Y/N’s eyes fluttered close. It hadn’t been far from climax when she had tried to get herself off earlier, it was embarrassing how quickly she would come now. However, as Harry continued to suck on her and make noises as if he was enjoying himself immensely, having the meal of his life, Y/N didn’t quite care. She was losing her mind as it was, feeling Harry’s tongue and mouth on her again, a sensation she had missed.

She felt Harry’s scruff against her skin and though it tickled some, she welcomed this feeling. She couldn’t come up with a number high enough if she were to say how many times she had thought about being in this position with Harry again. Before Harry, Dominic hadn’t bothered going down on Y/N much, and this hunger of Harry’s, his desire to make her come and scream while she did, was in such drastic contrast that it was almost laughable. Harry would not rest till he knew she had had a mind-blowing orgasm, while Dom had never even asked her if she finished. She often had to do the job herself with him, but with Harry, he was the one doing that for her.

“Oh, God,” she moaned as Harry wrapped his lips around her bud again, sucking her deliciously.

She reached down, taking Harry’s hair in her hands, and biting her lips as she let out another moan. He was working hard on making this one an orgasm to remember, she could feel it. As an electric shock ran through her, making her gasp for breath, her left leg fell onto Harry’s face. About to lift it again, she heard a sound of contentment from down there. Harry liked it. He liked the feeling of her thighs around him, suffocating him almost. Another thrill ran through Y/N at the thought.

“Harry,” she gasped, her grip on his hair tightening, he hummed against her in response.

She clung to him, the feeling of fire hot tension in her core was starting to reach that point where it’d burst, and Y/N was making more and more noise the nearer it drew. Harry held onto her, slipping two fingers into her while he continued to eat her out, looking up every now and again to look at her. At the feeling of his fingers, Y/N gasped again, crying out his name as hot pleasure erupted from her core and all throughout her body, making every cell aware of what was soon to happen.

“Couldn’t sleep just now,” Harry admitted between licks and sucks. “After our chat, all I kept thinking about was the taste of your sweet cunt and your thighs around me as I eat you out.”

Y/N moaned in response, dizzy with approaching bliss.

The wet sucking sounds of Harry’s lips as well as his fingers now, almost echoed throughout the room. Something that before would’ve disgusted her previous partner, but something that made her current partner, and herself, highly aroused. She pulled at his hair as he sucked on her again, picking up the pace of his fingers, and making it hard for Y/N not to cry out yet again. She felt it then. Just there. A little bit out of reach.

“Come on, baby,” Harry said against her, voice husky. “Come loud and nice for me now.”

Y/N gasped again, Harry’s words taking her off guard. However, it didn’t take long after that. He wrapped his lips around her and sucked more forcefully this time around, making the world around Y/N shatter completely. She gasped and moaned and cried out Harry’s name as she came. Fires licking at each of her organs, making it hard for her to breathe as Harry got out from between her thighs. He got up instantly to get her something to clean up with, not letting her do it himself. As she calmed down, biting her lips as Harry laid down next to her, she saw the small start of a grin. Before she could ask what he was thinking about, Harry spoke.

“I’ve been running low on vitamin P these last few days.”

Y/N was silent for a moment before she understood, then she just looked at him. Of course. “Don’t say it.”

“Vitamin pussy.”

Y/N brought her hands up to her face to hide it from view as they both laughed. It had been such a stupid joke after such a serious and hot moment spent together that neither of them could help themselves. It was exactly what Y/N had expected from Harry and she loved it, even though it was the stupidest joke she had ever heard. Harry’s phone went off, and Y/N wondered if it was 6am already, though that wouldn’t make sense as it at just been 3. Harry sat up, looking at his phone and bringing it up to the sensor on his upper arm, clicking his tongue.

“Seems eating you out didn’t work to get my blood sugar up, it’s still low.”

Y/N laughed again, feeling a pain in her ribs as she looked up at Harry.

“I’ll go eat something ‘cause your cunt’s clearly not sweet enough, and I’ll be back for cuddles-“

“-Hey!”

“I can’t cuddle now, my blood sugar-“

“-Thought you said earlier that my cunt’s sweet.”

Harry grinned down at her, kissing her forehead. “Can’t imagine myself living without the taste of you.” And then he got up, walking over to his kitchen to make himself a toast.

Next time she woke was a little after nine when Harry returned to the cottage after another report, trying to be as quiet as possible as he made a quick brew of coffee. She opened her eyes slowly and just watched him, finding herself smiling at the sight of him standing there in the pale morning sun. He wandered over to the sofa once he had his cup, flicking through the newspaper before him and taking his time before he had to start on a new day around the Clodgy grounds. Y/N let him sit there by himself for a while, understanding that he just needed to properly wake up and relax after a night of reporting and working.

Once he was done with his coffee and closed the newspaper before him, Harry glanced over at Y/N, stopping a little when he saw her already looking at him.

“Morning,” he said, voice still a bit groggy with sleep as he hadn’t talked much still. He cleared his throat. “I, uhm…” He looked at the coffee cup, mouth open as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh.” He nodded, eyes landing on her again, giving her a small smile before he picked up the coffee mug and walked over to the dishwasher with it. “You want some coffee?”

“I’m good, thanks, though.”

“No problem.”

She continued to just watch him, the tiniest of smiles on her face. Harry walked about the kitchen, looking through his fridge before he rummaged through the bowl of fruit on the counter. It seemed he was busying himself as he tried to find the right words to say, stopping a few times when he thought he had it, but then starting up his hunt again.

“How’d you sleep then?”

Y/N’s smile widened, still feeling Harry’s stubble where it had been between her thighs only hours beforehand. “Great, and you?”

Harry glanced over at her, smiling as well now. “Been a while since I’ve slept that well, to be honest.”

She giggled, sitting up in bed. She noticed his eyes flickered to her chest where she was sure her nipples were visible through her shirt. His cheeks flared and he looked away before meeting her eyes again. “Same here.”

His cheeks got redder and he couldn’t help his little smile. “Right.”

She smiled, stretching where she sat in the bed. “I feel like I need a shower. Might pop by the Inn-“

“-No, you can-“ Harry didn’t finish that sentence, instead he gestured at the bathroom with a little nod, biting his lips together. “I’ll… I’ll go outside and do some chores.”

Y/N nodded, getting up from the bed. “If you’re sure.”

“You don’t even have to ask, Y/N.”

That sent a shiver up her spine and her smile widened. “I still want to make sure. You never know when you’re stepping over a line or summat.”

“Not here, never here.”

It was incredible how much Harry made her feel at once. His words made her warm with adoration, but they also made her want to run over to him and rip his clothes off. She just wanted to be close to him, to physically touch him all over again. It had been so long since she’d felt his skin, kissed him, even though it had only been last night, and she longed for it all again. She missed being close to him, missed feeling him take over each one of her senses. The feeling of him being all around her, paralysing her and making her feel full of nothing but peace and love. Was there anything that felt better than that? Than not being able to do anything anywhere completely with someone because you were so in love with them it consumed you? Wasn’t the feeling of someone you were utterly, truly in love with feeling the same way about you, wanting to be with you like you wanted to be with them? How lucky hadn’t they been to have found each other and fallen at the same time.

Y/N walked over to the bathroom, watching Harry where he was stood by the foyer. She hadn’t expected to blurt it out like she did. In fact, in retrospect, she wasn’t sorry she had suggested it, but she knew that it had taken both her and Harry off guard. However, it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t opened her mouth either. Something they both would have regretted.

“Do you wanna come?”

Harry blinked a few times as if he was certain he hadn’t heard her right.

“In the shower?”

His mouth fell open slightly and he continued to just look at her, for a second looking like he thought she was taking the piss.

“If you’re busy you don’t have to, but the offers there-“

“-Y-You want me to come-“ Harry stopped himself, furrowing his brows. “You want me to come in the shower with you?”

“Yeah, unless you’re busy. I know-“

“-No, I…” Harry inhaled slowly. “No, I want to. I’ll come.”

Y/N smiled at him, opening the bathroom door as butterflies swarmed around in her stomach. It had been a while since she’d seen him naked, and even that had been in the dark of the bedroom in the lighthouse. Now, in the pale morning light, she’d get to see all of him. And he’d get to see all of her; chunky thighs, cellulite, and the mole on the inside of her right thigh. She didn’t mind him seeing her naked.

Y/N stepped inside, looking at the shower and the small window at the top of the wall, letting some natural sunlight stream into the bathroom. Harry followed after her, closing the door after him and standing there behind her, watching her as she studied the pale yellow sunbeams make it through the window. Slowly, she turned around, looking over her shoulder at Harry and keeping eye contact till they stood face to face. He was still watching her, studying her face and her body, taking his time and clearly trying not to make her feel uncomfortable at him taking her in like this. Reaching for the hem of Harry’s tee shirt, she brought it over her head and let it fall to the floor beside her, feeling an undeniable heat pull towards the bottom of her tummy as Harry’s eyes fell to her exposed breasts. He was paying so close attention to her as if just being here with her, getting a chance to look at her like this, was the greatest privilege one could ask for. Y/N’s body felt hot under his stare and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling a sort of powerful only Harry was able to make erupt inside her.

He tugged his own tee shirt over his head, letting it fall not far from where she’d placed hers, his broad and tanned chest exposed to her one more time. Like he had done to her, she took her time studying him. She took in the hair travelling from his navel to below his underwear, his outlined pecks and the soft tummy underneath them. Seeing him like that, glowing in the light of the sun, had something inside her scream with anticipation. Though nothing was set in stone to happen, she could still feel an instant intense electricity forming in the air between them.

Y/N reached for her knickers and Harry’s lips parted, inhaling sharply as if he’d just been brought back from an extraordinary trance. She pulled them down, revealing herself completely to him and the breath Harry had let enter his body just seconds before, left his lips in a shaky exhale once she stood upright again. His eyes moved over her, finally able to see all of her and in the light of day. Y/N’s heart beat hard inside her chest, looking at Harry look at her, feeling every emotion she held for him all at once. Once their eyes met, she let hers fall to his usual denim shorts, then meet his eyes again.

He understood right away, reaching for the button and the zipper, taking both his shorts and boxers off in one go. Y/N tried not to get visibly excited at the sight, but she could already see the hint of arousal on Harry, something that made the heat inside her own body intensify. Their eyes met again, and though she would’ve usually seen a slight blush across Harry’s cheeks, it wasn’t there just then. No, he seemed confident enough, ready enough, content enough not to feel embarrassed about anything.

She took a single step back before turning around, drawing the frosted shower door aside so she could step inside. Turning on the water, Y/N squealed a little as cold water came pouring down over her at first, taking a huge step to the other side of the shower so the water wouldn’t hit her. She was now standing in the open doorway into the shower, looking out at Harry who was smiling, chuckling some to herself at her instant reaction to the water. She wrinkled her nose at him before reaching her hand out, feeling at the water to see if it was a comfortable enough temperature now. When it was, she walked back over, standing under the shower head as she felt footsteps behind her on the shower floor, then the door sliding shut.

She turned around when she was fully wet, looking over at Harry as he just stood there, watching her intently. Biting her lip, she stepped aside, letting him slide past her and into the stream of the shower. She took his place, watching Harry now as he let the water run over him, a content sigh leaving his lips as if this was something he had really needed. Standing there, she wanted to reach forward and touch him. His back muscles, plump arse, and the scar on the back of his thigh. It wasn’t big, but it looked to have happened a long time ago. Maybe when he was little, having fallen off his bike or done something stupid kids often did while playing.

Harry picked up the shampoo bottle, letting her slide past him again to shampoo her hair. She waited for him to hand it over to her, but instead of putting the bottle back in her hand, Harry opened the shampoo and then put the bottle on the small sill beside the window. The small of fresh papaya wafted through the air, and a second later, she felt fingers in her hair and a hot sensation ran down her spine, resting at her core but heating up her entire body. She closed her eyes, letting the feeling of Harry take over each one of her senses. Humming contentedly, she let Harry massage her scalp, feeling herself relax completely for the first time in a long while. He pressed against her backside, not at all shy now that she felt him against her bum, harder than he had been when they undressed before one another. She felt like falling to the floor, the intensity of anything but the moment right now dissipating completely.

Something soft was pressed against her shoulder, then a bit further up towards her neck. Harry’s tender kisses sent shocks of great pleasure throughout her body, making it once again hard to remain standing. She suddenly heard some coughing and a small “ew”, and when she turned around, Harry was grimacing.

“Shampoo,” he explained, making Y/N laugh.

“You didn’t have to lick the shampoo.”

“It’s all over you now, innit?” he said, making both of them laugh again. “Was trying to be proper romantic, but fucked myself over with that one.”

“Nah, I liked it.”

“That I ate shampoo?”

She laughed. “Well, you didn’t eat it. At least not on purpose.”

He chuckled. “Real papaya tastes better than shampoo papaya. I’m a survivor of the papaya shampoo-“

“-Oh, don’t be dramatic.” She turned around, smiling over at him. “It was brave of you to go through all that for a shoulder kiss.”

“I’d go through a lot more than just eating shampoo to give you another shoulder kiss.”

Y/N laughed, getting the conditioner. She was about to put some in her hand when Harry took it from her. He shook his head, and she pretended to roll her eyes, even though she actually thoroughly enjoyed how much he wanted to take care of her. He ran his hands through her hair, making sure not to let any conditioner touch her scalp. While doing this, he planted more kisses along her jaw, even daring to kiss her neck and jawline, now not at all intimidated by the shampoo. There was simply no way not to smile and feel her entire body buzz with adoration as Harry did this.

When he stopped, he put his hands under the stream to get all the shampoo and conditioner off. Though she usually let the shampoo and conditioner stay in her hair a bit, she let it be this time around. Stepping under the stream from the shower head, she closed her eyes and rinsed her hair thoroughly. She ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes. She knew Harry was watching her and she loved that he was. The steam from the shower along with Harry’s not-so-subtly studying every single part of her naked body, made her hotter than she’d been in a while.

It happened so suddenly it made her gasp. Once she opened her eyes to look at him again, her hair free of shampoo and conditioner, Harry took the step toward her. He grabbed the back of her neck and brought her to him, kissing her fiercely. Though it had startled her at first, she melted into the kiss right away. Though they had kissed only last night, it still felt like an eternity ago, and she had missed him like this. She missed kissing him and knowing that it would lead somewhere fantastic, just like last night’s kiss had felt. Maybe that one had been even more intense than this one because it held the promise of a future, but this kiss felt very similar. This one was purposeful. They both knew there was a future now, but they had no idea where it’d go, only that in this very moment, no matter what, they wanted to spend this one moment with each other. And they wanted to take great advantage of that.

Harry pressed her against the wall, moaning into her as she gripped his back, bringing her closer to him. She tilted his head and kissed him harder, something that had a short breath leaving his nose, a slight twitch against Y/N’s core and lower belly.

“Open up for me,” she whispered against him and he did as she said without hesitation. Their tongues found one another instantly and fantastic bliss ran through Y/N’s body to the point where she completely forgot where she was. The kisses grew more frantic, wetter, deeper. She pulled away at one point, taking a grip of his hair, tilting his head so it’d fit better against hers, before she kissed him again. Harry smiled against her lips at that, getting harder against her as she took control of him, making him listen to her and what she wanted. The mere fact that this was turning him on turned Y/N on, and she continued to take the dominant role. Something both of them loved.

She lifted her leg and Harry took a grip of her knee, bringing it up to his hip. He instantly leaned more into her, his erection against her centre, making her grip on his hair tighten. Slowly, making a tingle of excitement run through her veins, Harry grinded against her. She couldn’t help her moan, begging him to do it again as she squeezed his shoulder. He did, letting a small whimper pass from his lips and into her mouth, desperate for an actual feel of her. Y/N adjusted her hips some, making it so that when Harry grinded against her hungrily the third time, a shot of pleasure erupted from her clit.

“Oh, my God,” she said, having missed the effect Harry had on her body like this.

He kissed along her neck, sucking lightly at the tip of her jaw. “You’re so hot.”

She smiled, closing her eyes as Harry kissed her collarbone. “It’s all you, you make me act like this.”

Harry stopped right above her heart, kissing her breast. “Don’t give me that sort of credit.”

She giggled. “Then what should I say?”

Harry kissed along her neck again, a thrill of ecstasy shooting straight for the spot between Y/N’s legs. “I’m not one to tell you, am I?”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, looking down at Harry and waiting for him to reach her shoulder before she uttered, “No, you’re not.”

She could tell Harry loved that, gripping her knee harder as he rested his forehead against hers. “Are you wet for me like I’m hard for you?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Why don’t you find out?”

Harry bit his bottom lip at that, she could feel his heart beating hard against his chest and against hers. She swore they beat to the same rhythm. He reached down between them, making sure to hold their eye contact as he reached for her centre, eyes hooded with lust. Once his middle and ring finger came into contact with her wetness, he let out a strangled moan. He slid his fingers over her, pushing them slowly into her and out again, making the ache of her core hurt with need. The teasing would surely kill her at one point.

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he mumbled. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

“Taste me.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly, her commands making every single hair on his body stand on end in excitement. Running his fingers over her again, he pushed them into her once more, pulling them out to circle her clit. She moaned, not able to help herself, and the sound of her pleasure brought Harry his, moaning along with her. He brought his fingers up, placing them inside his mouth and keeping eye contact with Y/N as he wrapped his lips around his fingers, sucking off her juices. Finding this so hot her entire body began to ache for him, Y/N brought him to her again, kissing him hard. Once again, they lost themselves in each other’s lips, tongues, and the taste. Y/N assumed she was tasting herself on him, but it soon disappeared as the kiss deepened, becoming hungrier than any of the other kisses.

“Get a condom,” she said at last, and in his haste to do just that, Harry almost slipped on the slippery shower floor. Y/N laughed, holding onto her stomach as Harry’s life flashed before his eyes, getting out of the shower to rummage through his bathroom drawer for his condoms. He was back not long after, shielding his covered-up cock from the water as he made his way over to her, putting the lube on the windowsill.

“Think my near death is funny, do you?”

“Hilarious.”

Harry laughed at that, pressing his forehead against hers again as he got a hold of her leg, bringing it up to his hip again.

Harry’s other hand ran from her collarbone, over her chest, and down to her centre, looking into her eyes the entire time. He helped angle her right, licking his lips before meeting her eyes again, resting his forehead once again against hers. They looked down as Harry positioned himself at her opening, Y/N averting her eyes after a little while just so she could look at him when they joined together again. He glanced up at her again as well, holding onto his shaft till most of him was inside her, then gripping her hips hard. They both moaned, unable to say another word as a heavenly feeling swept over them.

A gentleness, vulnerability, warmth lingered there between them as Harry moved in and out of her at a slow pace, it was a sort of feeling that one couldn’t properly speak of, it was too powerful for that. What transpired between them as Harry pounded into her, made her arch her back, was so much more than anything that had ever existed before this. There was an emotion yet to be described, yet to be given a word, that they created as they stood there in that shower, the lazy sunbeams shining in on them and the hot shower pouring down Harry’s back. Y/N hummed in contentment as Harry’s hips met hers, loving the feeling of him there, colliding with her once again.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbled, keeping his eyes on Y/N at all times. He brought her knee further up his hips, making it easier for him to fuck her right, and while doing that, spreading her wider for him as well. At this, she moaned loudly, digging her nails into the skin of his back. With that, Harry picked up the pace a little more, their wet bodies colliding in a rough yet delicious rhythm that had the both of them gasping for breath.

Y/N felt something inside her core, something that was tensing up and making it harder for her to concentrate on much else besides the heat of it and Harry in front of her. Harry continued to rock into her, their bodies crashing hard and loud. The sound of flesh against flesh, their rapid breathing, and the occasional moan was their entire universe in those blissful minutes.

His grip on her tightened, and Y/N couldn’t help herself, letting go of a loud cry of Harry’s name, the quick strokes bringing her closer to her orgasm dangerously fast. She gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, making Harry moan loudly against her, the sort that had him gasping afterwards.

Y/N wondered how she had ever thought that Harry’s feelings for her hadn’t been genuine. She wondered how she had not seen it sooner. Not only how Harry felt for her, but how she felt for him as well. It had taken her so long just to realise that the reason why she was so protective of him, why she wanted to be near him, and why she always felt like her breath got clogged somewhere in her throat when she saw him, was because she was falling in love with him. It had crept up on her so slowly, so powerfully, that she hadn’t realised it till it was too late. But regardless, Y/N was sure that even if she had recognised that she was falling in love with Harry while it was actually happening versus how she realised after it had all happened, she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. She was where she was supposed to be. Where the kindness she had sent out into the universe had brought her; where destiny had always envisioned her. With Harry. In St Ives.

She leaned forward, softly biting onto his bottom lip and it was like seeing his pupils dilate.

“Fuck me,” he mumbled, making Y/N grin.

She arched her back, the tenseness in her core tightening. The edges of her vision blurred as she watched Harry. As they came together, as they looked into each other’s eyes, Y/N knew that nothing would be better than this. She felt Harry everywhere. Felt him, smelled him, tasted him, heard him. He was everywhere all at once, and it was exactly as Y/N wanted it. She wanted him to leave more pieces of himself inside her, feel him shape her into a better version of herself, help her along the path to becoming the person she was supposed to be. There was a piece of him in each one of her molecules, and though she was sure this was an aspect of her life that would never truly dissipate, she knew Harry would always be with her. Wherever she went, whoever she was with, he had helped her on her way to discover herself, and for that she would always be grateful.

They kissed one another one more time, Y/N moaning against him as he thrust into her, this one rougher than all the ones before. Breaking away, they looked into each other’s eyes as she dug her nails into his scalp and shoulder. She came. The tenseness in her core erupted and she felt the effect like an earthquake all over her body. She was gasping, moaning, and looking into his eyes as pure bliss washed over her. The leg Harry was holding shook and it was a wonder the other one hadn’t given out from under her. She held onto him as she came down, smiling at him as if she couldn’t believe they’d just done that.

Y/N wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders, holding onto him as he pounded into her, the veins in his neck popping out. She knew he was close, saw it and felt it. As his pace picked up some more, though she was still incredibly sensitive, Y/N felt a familiar burn herself. This had never happened before, she usually needed some time to gather herself and to not be as sensitive down there before she could go for a round two, but something about today was different. She gasped as Harry hit a particular spot and he looked into her eyes, refusing to keep them close as he had that last minute.

“Harry,” she moaned, making him grab her boob, squeezing it seductively.

Suddenly, there was a sound coming from outside. The two of them had been too caught up in one another and their little moment that they hadn’t heard the approaching car. Though Y/N quickly realised what was happening, Harry continued to fuck her, oblivious until a car door closed with a bang outside in the courtyard. He removed his face from where he had rested his forehead against hers, trying to peek out of the foggy window.

“Dax,” Harry said. “Think the rest as well.”

“Everyone’s here?!” Y/N hissed. “Everyone’s outside?!”

“Looks like it,” Harry said, turning back to her. “Just-“ He put one hand over her mouth. “Be quiet.”

“I’m not the one that needs to be quiet,” she said against his palm, but her voice was muffled by him covering her mouth. “You’re loud.”

“I’m not bloody loud, what’re you talking about?” Harry furrowed his brows.

Y/N chuckled. “Who cares? Just get a move on so we can go out there.”

Harry smiled and pressed his forehead against hers again, gripping her thigh harder as he began to make as small and quick movements as possible, trying not to make any noise. His pace, his flow, felt heavenly. Her eyes fluttered shut, digging her nails into Harry’s back. By the looks of it, this exact angle and tempo was doing it for Harry as well. He looked at her as he neared his climax, doing as Y/N said and trying to keep his mouth shut and moans to a minimum. She could tell he was struggling, and she squeezed his shoulder in encouragement as he continued to barely make any noise.

“Harry?!” Dax called from the front door, walking into the cottage. More footsteps sounded behind him and Harry stopped abruptly, looking over at the door through the blurry glass of the shower door. “Mate, where are you?”

Harry and Y/N looked at one another, eyes wide as they listened for more movement outside.

“Found him, Dax, Jo?” Fatima called from outside, her footsteps along with, what Y/N could only assume, Amir and Ellie nearing the cottage.

“No, he’s not here,” Jo answered.

“Where the fuck could he have gone? Not like he’s supposed to be anywhere else, is it?” Dax asked no one in particular. “He wasn’t in the lighthouse either?”

“No, but he just did his 9am,” Amir answered.

“What the fuck, then,” Dax said. The door into the bathroom burst open and Y/N tried not to scream. Harry pressed his body against Y/N’s so Dax wouldn’t see any of her. “Haz-“ Everything was disturbingly silent for a single second before Dax realised what he must be looking at. “OH!”

“A bit preoccupied at the moment, Dax!” Harry shouted out at his best mate where he still stood in the bathroom doorway.

“Right! Sorry!” Dax slammed the bathroom door shut. Harry and Y/N looked at one another, both giggling and doing their best not to be heard by the others outside. “We’ll just fuck off outside then!”

There was a slight silence outside in the cottage till Ellie finally asked, “What’s going on?”

“Harry and Y/N,” Dax explained. “They’re in the shower.”

“What?!” exclaimed Fatima.

“In the shower, or in the shower shower?” Amir asked, it sounded like he was wiggling his eyebrows along with his question.

“Mate. No,” Jo said.

“Would you lot mind buggering off for a bit?!” Harry shouted, making a flurry of footsteps move hastily towards the front door. They could all be heard outside, chatting excitedly and fast. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, making Y/N laugh.

“Right,” Harry said, bringing her leg higher up as to get better access. She gasped. “Where were we?”

She bit her lips, grinning at him. Harry started at the same pace as before, fucking her quickly and with small movements as not to be heard, not sure how well the sound of their wet bodies slamming together would carry. Y/N reached for the lube, making Harry let out a small breath as if he had completely forgotten about it, but appreciated that Y/N had. Once again, she had to angle herself so best to access his bum, and when she did, she slid her fingers slowly into him.

“Fuck,” Harry hissed.

He continued with his small and quick movements as to make it easier for Y/N to keep her fingers in. She curled them slightly upward, watching as Harry’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Y/N,” he moaned, voice trembling slightly. She kept her fingers like that, feeling that, with each of Harry’s movements, he ignited the fire inside, making her heat up all over again. Harry’s whimpers got more frequent and desperate, not fully knowing what to do with himself as his orgasm got closer and closer.

“Come on, baby,” she mumbled, and that was all it took. Her calling him that. Finally, Harry was brought towards climax. He came looking into Y/N’s eyes, everyone and everything else completely forgotten as he filled the condom, moaning her name and gripping her body harder. She had felt the oncoming second orgasm herself, and though she hadn’t thought Harry would’ve noticed her like that, he had.

“I can go down on you,” he offered, pulling himself out of her. “We can-“

“-No,” Y/N laughed. “They’re waiting for you.”

“For us,” Harry corrected her, getting up as he had hunched down, ready to make her come a second time. “They’re waiting for us.”

Y/N smiled at him, stroking his cheek as he stood before her. He leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips as they relished in the last of their moment together.

“I’ll make it up to you later,” he said against her lips, making Y/N’s tummy, which was already filled with butterflies, tickle with anticipation.

“I’ll just wash up.”

“Alright, I’ll wait.”

Harry dried himself off as quickly as possible, running out into the living room to get a new pair of boxers and jeans along with Y/N’s dress and jumper. He put on his underwear and jeans, then picked up the tee shirt Y/N had been wearing the bed the night before, making a note to sniff it in front of Y/N just so he could watch her laugh at him. She got dressed as well, suddenly filled with dread for what was waiting for them outside. Once in the foyer, Harry pulled her closer, kissing her one more time, smiling against her. She giggled, kissing him again before they both turned to the door and walked outside.

Everyone was sat on the grass beside the lighthouse, not too close to the cliff, but close enough so that the wind was rather harsh. As Harry and Y/N approached, Fatima looked over her shoulder, smiling at them before she alerted the others, making them all stand up. Y/N felt a tenseness in her chest, terrified of what would happen the second they started chatting. She hadn’t forgotten the look of hurt on Dax’s face, or how hurt Fatima had been, or how Jo looked between Harry and Y/N, refusing to believe what they were saying was true.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Harry asked once they were close enough to talk.

Amir’s eyes fell on Y/N, giving her a smile before he looked at Harry. Jo opened their mouth, crossing their arms over their chest. “Think you got some explaining to do. Both of you.”

Harry looked at Y/N who glanced back at him, but she quickly stared at the others, feeling her hands go all clammy.

“Well,” Harry started, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s… it’s probably what you think.”

“What’s that?” asked Dax.

“I’m in love with Y/N,” Harry said, as if it was the simplest and most profound fact of the world. “And she’s in love with me.”

Dax looked between them, studying each of their faces. “Alright,” he said, pausing for two seconds. “Why bother lying, then?”

“That’s… That’s not a lie.”

“I didn’t mean lie about that, why did you have to lie about being a couple when you were on your way to become one in the first place?”

Harry furrowed his brows. “It’s not that simple, though. We didn’t know we’d end up caring for one another like that when we first met.”

“Dax,” Fatima said, raising her eyebrows at him. “I know you’re hurt Harry lied to you-“

“-Nah, I’m not hurt. I’m fuming.”

Harry let out a huff. “Thought you were over it, mate.”

“But I’m not.” Dax looked Harry dead in the eyes. “Look, I’m happy for you. Genuinely, I am. You more than anyone else deserve to find love, especially when that someone you fall in love with is Y/N, yeah? But…” Dax trailed off, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m still hurt that my best friend lied to me. I tell you everything, Haz.”

“I wanted to tell you, Dax. Really.”

“But?”

“But you love to gossip, mate! You’re just like your mum!”

“I wouldn’t have told people about this, Harry.”

Harry sighed. “Listen, be mad, yeah? Take your time to be mad. I’m sorry.” He looked at all his other friends as well. Amir, Fatima, Jo, Ellie. “I’m sorry for lying about this. It was a stupid thing to lie about, but I was desperate and before either of us really knew what was going on, we were just fake dating.”

Ellie nodded along, smiling a little at both Y/N and Harry’s wet hairs. “But you’re not fake dating anymore… right?”

Harry smiled as well, looking at Y/N. “No.”

“Aww, you two!” Fatima exclaimed.

“We haven’t discussed it yet, she told me yesterday that she won’t leave St Ives, so…” Harry shrugged, holding up his hand to stop Fatima, Amir, Ellie and Jo from celebrating. “It’s not official.”

“But you fancy each other, yeah?” Amir grinned. “That’s enough, innit?”

“So it’s really not fake this time?” Dax asked, looking at Harry as he spoke. “You’re genuinely in love?”

“Mate,” Harry said, a red colour crossing his cheekbones. “You just saw us shagging in the shower.”

Jo howled with laughter and Ellie giggled, looking over at Fatima who was having trouble holding Amir up as he was pretending to faint from shock. Even Dax had trouble not laughing at that, a single chuckle escaping his lips as he studied Y/N and Harry who were both flustered, hair still a mess from just having gotten out of the shower. Harry took a step closer to Y/N, nudging her with his hips. Once their eyes met, Y/N was taken back to their shared moment in the shower, blushing furiously again.

“Alright,” Dax said, smiling at them. “I guess I was just offended.”

“Don’t make this about yourself, bruv,” Amir said, walking over to stand between Y/N and Harry, flinging his arms over their shoulders. “Everything’s back to normal, innit?”

“Well, a new normal,” Harry pointed out. “We still have to figure out a lot of things.”

“Ah, well, that’ll come easy,” Amir smiled. “Bottom line, for us, nothing’s really gonna change. We always thought you were together, and now you’re actually together.”

Y/N looked over at Fatima who shrugged, clearly agreeing with her cousin.

Amir patted them each on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “We came here to check if Harry was alright. Haven’t heard from you in a couple of days, mate.”

“No, I’ve…” Harry’s eyes flickered over to Y/N before he met Amir’s eyes again. “Been a bit… well, sad.”

“That’s okay,” Amir said. “You feeling better now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry smiled, looking at Y/N again. “Loads.”

“Wicked.” Amir gave Harry a pat on the back. “Pub, anyone?”

“It’s not even noon,” Fatima said, raising her eyebrows at Amir.

“Who cares? Everyone’s about to go back to their everyday lives, think we should just spend a day doing nothing in particular, don’t you?” Amir looked around the ground with his mouth agape in anticipation.

“Actually,” Harry said, looking apologetically at Amir. “Y/N and I gotta go to the farm real quick.”

Amir’s face fell. “Why?”

“We just need to talk to Jessa, Gracie, lolo, and uncle Timmy. You know…” Harry motioned with his arms before him. “About what Y/N and I did.”

“Ahh!” Amir gave Harry’s back a pat, nodding his head. “Yeah, alright.”

Y/N’s heart fell again. She hadn’t even thought of that. They would have to face Jessa and Grace as well, and apologise for what they had done. Y/N wouldn’t be mad at Jessa if she didn’t forgive her or Harry for this. After all, they had lied to her all summer, not thinking that they’d end up actually falling in love with one another in the end.

“You’ll pop by later, then? Balcony?” Dax asked, Harry nodding as an answer that they would. “Wicked! See you in an hour or summat then.”

Y/N and Harry watched as the others made their way over to Dax’s car, Amir jumping onto Jo’s back and Ellie laughing her ass off when Jo almost face-planted from the unexpected impact. Harry walked over to Y/N, raising his eyebrows slowly as if to ask

Hadn’t been there since everything had happened. This was where her family had shown up and where Dominic had dragged Harry to the ground. The thought made her sick. Her family had all been here and she had let them treat Harry like that. Taking a deep breath, Y/N just looked at the farm, feeling as if she should just turn back around and walk away from it all. She didn’t deserve to be close to Jessa, or Grace, or lolo-

“Flower?”

She looked at Harry who was watching her with big eyes.

“You alright?”

“No. Not really, no.”

Harry nodded slightly. “Yeah, it’s… I mean, it’s gonna be alright. I know it is. But Jessa… Blimey, I hate disappointing Jessa.”

“Has she given you a hard time before for disappointing her?”

“Yeah, and it was just as you can expected it to,” Harry chuckled. “She would give me the cold shoulder and make me feel bad till I finally gave in and apologised.”

“Oh, my word, Harry, we should’ve done this sooner-“

“-We weren’t on speaking terms then, were we?” Harry reasoned. “We have spent days trying to talk, and now we have. We’ve always needed to do this together. Don’t think it would’ve been completely alright till you came with to apologise as well, Jessa wouldn’t think so.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, I-“

“-Harry?”

They both turned to look at Jessa as she walked out of the hen house, lolo’s straw hat on her head and walking slowly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Y/N?”

Hearing Jessa say her name was surreal, especially after everything. She didn’t sound mad; she didn’t sound disappointed. In fact, she just sounded confused, as if the sight before her was the most peculiar yet familiar thing in the world. Not wanting to postpone this any longer, Y/N started walking towards the farm, Harry following close behind her. As they walked through the gate, Jessa stopped walking, holding onto her basket filled with eggs as she watched them move to her. The door to the main house opened, Grace and lolo along with Tim stood there, eyes on Harry and Y/N as they stopped in front of Jessa. They were sure the others could hear them, Grace even walked a little closer as if she wanted to run to Harry and Y/N, but stopped herself as she noticed they were directing all their attention at Jessa.

“How are you feeling?” Jessa asked Harry, eyes scanning him from head to toe. “Not had any other hypo situations?”

“No,” Harry answered quickly. “No, I’ve been alright.”

Jessa nodded, eyes falling on Y/N. “They’ve gone back to Hampshire?”

Jessa didn’t have to say who she was talking about for Y/N to understand completely. The chat she had with Jessa Tuesday the week before still fresh in her mind. Y/N nodded as an answer to Jessa’s question. “They left a few days ago.”

“Good,” Jessa answered curtly. “Didn’t like them. Quite rude of them to just show up to a party like that unannounced.”

“Yeah, they’ve never much considered other people’s feelings.”

A small smile flickered over Jessa’s lips. “No, I could tell.”

Y/N smiled back a little, looking up to meet Harry’s eyes. She could tell he was about to speak, but she beat him to it, whipping her head in Jessa’s direction again. “We’re so sorry.” She glanced at Grace, lolo, and Tim as well. “So sorry.”

Harry looked away from Y/N at the others. “It’s all my fault.”

“Harry-“

“-No, Y/N, it is.” Harry let out a huge sigh, meeting Jessa’s eyes. “I’m sorry, nanay. I’ve always told you everything. Always. But you were fussing so much about how I was lonely at Clodgy, something I wasn’t. I was perfectly okay up there by myself, I like my own company. Ever since Emilia… well, I like being alone. But… But…” Harry stopped, growing red in the cheeks. “You know… I thought if I pretended to have a girlfriend, you’d get off my back a bit.” He let out a chuckle. “I should’ve known better, though. You just want what’s best for me, so you want to know every detail of everything.”

Jessa was eerily silent, not moving an inch.

“And I know it was a fucking daft move, alright? Well out of line for me to lie about something like that, a-and… and…” Harry looked down at Y/N. “And especially stupid of me to drag Y/N into it. She had no idea what she did when she went along to pretend to be my girlfriend on Fore Street that day.”

“Hang on,” Grace said, frowning. “We met Y/N on Fore Street.”

“Yeah, that was the first time I met Y/N myself.”

“That same day?” Tim asked.

“Yes.”

“And you just asked someone to me your fake girlfriend to further your lie?” Tim still sounded confused. Y/N’s palms were getting clammy.

“Y-Yes.” Harry nodded his head. “It’s entirely my fault.”

“Harry, no.” Y/N looked up at him. “I helped.”

“It wasn’t your idea, was it?”

Y/N was about to protest, said that it didn’t matter, but Harry went on.

“I went to the Inn to tell Y/N not to worry about this fake relationship of ours, ‘cause… I couldn’t keep it from you, Jessa. I couldn’t lie to you like that.” Harry sighed again. “But you had already told everyone, so we would’ve looked well stupid to just tell everyone that we lied, it wasn’t true, we weren’t a couple.”

“As opposed to everyone finding out at the party last Friday that it had been fake all this time?” Jessa asked, making both Harry and Y/N shut up.

A small silence stretched out then, when the only sound they heard was the wind blowing through the trees around them and the hens in the hen house. Y/N looked around at everyone before her, trying to see all of their reactions. No one spoke for what felt like a century, and it was hard to see what any of them thoughts because panic was starting to rise within Y/N. Did they all hate her? No one was saying anything, did they really detest her? What her and Harry had done, they’d never forgive them, would they? Y/N felt lightheaded, sure that she had never been anticipating an answer from someone as much as she was anticipating these people before her.

Suddenly, Jessa took a small step forward, her head cocked and eyes flicking between Y/N and Harry. She looked thoughtful, though no anger could be detected on her face.

“You know,” Jessa started, clutching the egg basket a little closer to her. “I never once doubted you two weren’t an item. Not once.”

Harry’s cheeks got redder, eyes falling to the ground.

“But I don’t think that’s something to be embarrassed about, Harry,” Jessa said, voice very soft all of a sudden and Y/N felt like crying. “I could tell there was something between you two that I hadn’t seen between you and Emilia, Harry. After Emilia left,” Jessa said, looking at Y/N now. “Harry was very sad at first, but I had never seen him as happy as that time after all that mourning. He was so, so happy. Just as he deserved. Wasn’t easy, losing his father… or my husband, like that.”

Y/N nodded, understanding that it must’ve been a grief unlike anything anyone would ever have the capability to explain.

“But the second you came into his life - when you arrived in St Ives, to be more specific, ‘cause you were kind of there while Harry lied about having a girlfriend – but when you came into his life… something in him shifted. He was still happy, still himself, but it comes easier to him now to articulate himself. To find his words. He had huge trouble with that before. Always had. Words, new beginnings, new opportunities, it’s all come easier to him since you came into his life. And that-“ Jessa pointed her finger at Harry’s chest as she met his eyes again. “-That is why I’m not mad now.”

Harry blinked.

“Whatever is going on between you two, it’s not fake. If you’re saying that, if you’ve ever said that or believed that, you’ve lied to yourselves, not to anyone else,” Jessa said. “Yes, you’ve lied to us about being in a relationship. Yes, it was a tragic thing to do.”

Harry winced at her words, nodding his head. Y/N knew she must’ve had the same reaction, but she didn’t know or care what she looked like just then. All she cared about was Jessa, Grace, lolo, and Tim.

“But,” Jessa continued. “I would’ve been mad if you two weren’t in love at all. I’m disappointed it took you two this long to admit it, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re both as oblivious as each other.” She let out a sigh. “You’re forgiven.” She met Y/N’s eyes, smiling. “Both of you.”

Y/N bit her lip as it started to tremble, everything she had felt these last few minutes finally leaving her. Relief and peace finally flooded through her veins.

“I meant what I said that day, Y/N,” Jessa said, taking Y/N’s hand with her free one. “You are loved unconditionally here, with us.”

Y/N nodded her head, squeezing Jessa’s hand.

“Right,” Jessa grinned, looking up at Harry. “Free for a cuppa, my lovelies?”

“No, uhm…” Harry ran a hand through his hair, smiling down at Jessa. “We’re going to the pub with the gang. Getting a quick pint in before summer ends.”

“How nice,” Jessa said. “You two will pop by tomorrow then?”

“Yes,” Y/N answered, and Jessa’s smile widened. The older woman took a few steps toward Y/N, wrapping her arm around her in a hug. Y/N hugged her back, forcing back the tears she felt pressing on.

“We’ll see you then,” Jessa said, going in to hug Harry next.

“See you!” Grace grinned as she ran over, arms outstretched for Y/N. Y/N giggled, hoping no one heard her strangled sob. She bent down, hugging Grace to her, closing her eyes as Grace’s hold on Y/N tightened. Lolo and Tim came over as well, both smiling at Y/N and giving her hugs, patting and stroking her back, as if they both knew how much she needed it. Harry and Y/N said the last few goodbyes to their family before they walked over to Harry’s van, sitting back there in silence.

Harry suddenly turned to look at Y/N, leaning over to take her face in his hands so roughly and unexpectedly that Y/N squealed. He kissed her firmly on the lips, leaving small pecks all over her face as a grin erupted across his lips. Y/N laughed, holding onto his wrists and closing her eyes until he stopped. All the way to The Balcony Bar and Kitchen, Harry held onto Y/N’s hand, clutching onto it between changing gears, never once letting go voluntarily. Y/N thought this was quite funny, but she didn’t say this. She appreciated how he wanted to stay close to her all he could, whenever he could, just as he had said last night at 3am.

The Balcony Bar and Kitchen was an old pub, but at the far end of the pub, the entire wall facing the beach was made out of tall windows. Y/N could make out their little gang sitting at one of the tables, talking merrily amongst themselves as her and Harry strolled up to the bar.

“What do you fancy?” Harry asked her, standing so close that their sides were flush against one another. Y/N suddenly wanted to be back in the Clodgy cottage again so Harry could make up for before, as he had promised her he would once they were back there later. A chill went up her spine and she smiled, loving the fact that she could stand there and imagine a future, no matter how near or far away it was, where Harry was present.

“Whatever you’re having,” Y/N said simply.

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Really sure?”

“Really, really sure, in fact.”

Harry chuckled, ordering two pints from the bartender who had come up to them just then.

“Y/N.”

Once again, Y/N felt like she could’ve done without hearing that voice again. She thought she would’ve heard it for the last time at the end of summer party, but she guessed she hadn’t been that lucky. Looking to her right, she saw Emilia standing there. Harry tensed to her left, watching as the bartender made them their pints.

“Could we have a chat?” Emilia asked, taking Y/N completely off guard. It took her a few tries to get the correct words out, but Y/N managed to utter a quick, “Yeah,” to which Emilia smiled gratefully.

“I’ll take these to our table,” Harry said to Y/N, giving Emilia a smile before he walked back over to their little group by the window.

Emilia inhaled slowly, looking down at the bar counter before she met Y/N’s eyes again. “It’s been a weird summer, hasn’t it?”

Y/N was still not sure what was going on or why Emilia was trying to make small talk. If she wanted to say something to Y/N, then she should just say it right away. Y/N had people she’d rather be with.

Emilia must’ve sensed Y/N’s confusion at what was going on, so she sighed and turned to look at Y/N fully. “I just wanna talk about everything. I could tell there was a bit of tension between us at the end of summer party.”

Y/N rested her elbow on the counter beside her. “Yeah, there was.”

“I just wanted to talk that out, ‘cause I don’t know what you think, but it’s a bit stupid to have gotten off on the wrong foot like this when we barely know each other, isn’t it?”

Y/N took a moment to study Emilia, trying to decipher if the words she had just spoken were genuine. “Yeah.”

“I came back from Munich and found out that Harry had a girlfriend, and I was delighted. He-“

“-You were?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, of course,” Emilia answered. “Harry deserves to be happy.”

Y/N tried not to let it show on her face that she was shocked by this news. “He does.”

“I was told he had a girlfriend, and the second we met, I just felt like you didn’t like me.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Was a bit hard to when you used the power you know you have over Harry to show me that you still have the ability to make him do anything you want. And I think you got the idea that I ‘didn’t like you’ when I told Harry I felt uncomfortable with this, and he stopped giving you attention.”

Emilia fell quiet.

“Am I right?”

“You don’t know what happened between us, Harry and I.”

“I do, in fact. Harry’s told me.”

Emilia’s mouth was a thin line now. “Alright. My boyfriend of one year back in Munich broke up with me and I was sad about it. It was wrong of me to seek comfort in Harry, I’m sorry.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows some. “So… my theory’s correct? You wanted to know that you still exerted some dominance over Harry, even after all those years, and have him crawl back to you so you’d feel… what, better about yourself after being broken up with? Did you want someone to make you feel better?”

“I’m aware it was wrong of me, okay-“

“-No, I don’t think you get how fucking disgusting that is.”

Emilia turned silent again, blinking at Y/N.

“You didn’t even talk to him after you left. His dad died and his girlfriend broke up with him, he was left completely broken ‘cause of you, but he’s too good to say any of this to your face,” Y/N said, taking a small step forward.

“I left because of my mental health.”

“And that’s valid, but you should also know that by doing that, you left a hole in Harry that it took a while for him to fill up himself. You don’t get to walk in and out of someone’s life whenever it suits you, especially when they’re doing so much better now than they ever did with you there.”

Emilia looked away.

“It might feel like it, but you’re not the only person in the world that possesses feelings. We all do. The way you keep treating others and neglecting the fact that your actions will stay with them forever, is a dangerous sort of ignorance that I suggest you do something about.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t want to. I’ve heard enough from everyone else.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not my decision to make, but in my opinion, you should think twice before you try and make a place for yourself in Harry’s life again. His friends and family don’t really have a great picture of you any longer.”

Emilia sighed, meeting Y/N’s eyes again. “You know, I get where you’re coming from.”

It was Y/N’s turn to be silent now.

“You want to protect Harry, make sure nothing happens to him, and I know I hurt him bad, so naturally you don’t want me in his life. But, as you said, that’s his call,” Emilia said. “I shouldn’t have gone after Harry when I came back from Munich, it was stupid of me, especially considering how happy he looked with you. Granted, it was all fake, but I know Harry and I could tell he fancied the pants off you.”

Y/N gave Emilia a small smile, trying to make some sort of peace.

“I won’t stand in the way of you two.”

“I appreciate that. I’m sure Harry does as well.”

Emilia nodded, giving Y/N a smile.

“Y/N!” Fatima called from where she sat with all the others. When Y/N looked in their direction, she simply could not help her smile. They were all chatting amongst themselves, laughing at something, and Fatima and Harry were looking her way, beckoning her over.

“Hope you have a good day, Emilia,” Y/N said-

“You too, Y/N.”

And with that, Y/N walked back over to her friends. Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her to him where he stood at the edge of the table, everyone else perched on bar stools around the tall table. Fatima clinked her glass against Y/N’s, Jo grinned in Y/N’s direction, while Ellie, Amir and Dax were in an animated discussion about something Y/N didn’t catch. Harry leaned down, pressing a small peck to Y/N’s temple, and the grin that spread out across Y/N’s smile almost hurt. A sort of restless anticipation mingled with such utter contentment that it was hard for her to think she’d ever lived, breathed, loved, anywhere but right there in St Ives.

Thursday, 10 September

The universe would always balance itself out, Y/N McKay was aware of this. She was aware that if she had faith and believed everything happens for a reason, it would make the tough times of her life easier to mentally handle. If she did good, the universe would work to give back to her in some other form. And now, after a summer randomly spent in Cornwall, she had found it in herself to believe in destiny as well.

She believed that there was a place where she belonged. People she was supposed to meet, and places she was supposed to see. These people, places, and feelings would help you along the road to self-realisation. They would shape her and make everything make sense, would make all the suffering and the struggles she had faced up until then worth it in a way. Each one of the people Y/N had met in St Ives had had that effect on her. They had made her realise things about herself and her life that she would never have figured out without them. She took that summer with her for the rest of her life; letting the sun beams of St Ives shine through in her smile, the goodness of the locals reflect in her own acts of kindness, the calming feeling of walking along the sand of Porthminster Beach show in her warmness and relaxing effect on the people around her.

Y/N had no idea when she walked out of the door of the building in Bethnal Green, London that September 10th that the summer she had just experienced would play that big of a role in shaping the continuation of her entire life. She had no idea that she would receive top marks on her UCAT she took in Bethnal Green, the following day. Nor that she would attend University of Plymouth for the next six years, graduating with a degree in Dentistry. And she had no idea that, even after all those years, she’d still be with the lighthouse keeper of St Ives. Only now that she was done with University, she moved back to her hometown, to her family, friends, and boyfriend, and would live there for the rest of her life.

No, Y/N didn’t know any of that as she walked out after her UCAT on the second Thursday of September that year. She chose not to think too much about her future at that time, realising that whatever would be, would be, and there was nothing she could change about that now.

Harry, who had driven her to London that day, was stood by his car not too far away, looking down at his phone as he replied to a text. She was sure no one had ever stood by their car like this, with no other agenda than to wait for her before this. Then again, Harry would always do stuff like this as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him, expecting nothing in return. Which had come as a shock to Y/N at first, but once she realised she was doing the same thing for the people she loved as well, she understood.

The UCAT had been awful, at least at first. The questions were difficult, she had to rack her brain properly for most of them, and she could swear she had heard someone crying at one point. She had to put a hand on her own cheek to check for tears, scared that it had been her. But then, during the chaos of everything, she remembered what Harry had said to her when they woke up in the Clodgy cottage that same morning, “It’s a beautiful day to do beautiful things,” and her nerves calmed themselves considerably. Because he was right. It was a beautiful day and she would do beautiful things. The thought of getting out of there and to Harry again was enough motivation to get her through the rest of the UCAT.

Upon hearing some footsteps, Harry looked in the direction of where they were coming. He instantly shoved his phone back down into the pockets of his denim jeans, smiling at Y/N as she approached him.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve got a good feeling,” she admitted, walking over to where he was standing. “But I don’t want to get my hopes up. I get the results back in 24 hours.”

Harry huffed, sliding his thumb reassuringly over her cheek. “You know what I think?”

“Think I already do.”

“You’ll do amazing, the results will be exactly as you dreamed they’d be, and life will be ama-“

“-Amazing,” Y/N finished, making Harry chuckle. “You’ve said that word a lot this last month.”

“Can you blame me?” Harry asked, resting his hand at the back of her neck, bringing her to him so he could plant a kiss to her forehead. “Everything’s been amazing this last month. So I therefore believe that the UCAT results will reflect that.”

Y/N giggled again, walking over to the other side of Harry’s van and getting in. The two of them got comfortable and Harry started driving back to St Ives. Y/N knew how much Harry hated London, and especially the traffic there. He had made it very clear when they had entered the capital that he couldn’t stand Londoners, something that made Y/N giggle. She never saw him have proper road rage, this was the first time she’d ever truly seen it, and it has been more entertaining than she had thought.

He was no better on their way out of the city, hissing curse words under his breath as he honked at reckless drivers or pedestrians that crossed the street without any regard for oncoming traffic. Y/N knew that no matter what, she could not end up attending a University in London, because Harry would not survive the trips to and from the capital.

It was a long drive back to St Ives and she fell asleep once they were out of London and Harry didn’t wake her. He knew she had been stressing the last few weeks to revise and get everything ready for the UCAT, and now that everything was over, he must’ve thought she deserved a small break from it all, some time to relax. When Y/N woke up in St Ives a few hours later, she smiled a little to herself, looking down at the tote bag by her feet that she had filled with books. She had been ready to read out loud to Harry, but she had simply not had the energy this time around.

“Alright?” Harry asked, smiling over at Y/N as he drove up the hill to Clodgy Lighthouse. He took her hand, kissing her palm softly.

“Just dead tired,” Y/N answered, yawning slightly. “I might take a nap once we’re back.”

“Or you can wake up.”

She blinked, looking over at Harry who was smiling a little to himself. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll show you,” Harry said, grinning now as he killed the engine.

Not really knowing what he had planned, Y/N was apprehensive at first. She saw Harry walk over to the field beside the cottage, not really caring to know what he was doing. She was too tired for that. Next, she rubbed her eyes and took her seatbelt off, climbing out of the van to join him. Harry ran for the lighthouse and Y/N followed, smiling at his eagerness to wake her up. The sun was shining brightly above them, not a single cloud in sight, and even though it was September, it was fairly warm out despite the wind.

Harry showed the way up the lighthouse, grinning back at her every once in a while. And though Y/N wanted to ask him what he was up to this time around, she didn’t bother. She knew he’d be cryptic or leave her hanging, neither option seemed very appealing now that she was slightly irritable because of her lack of sleep. Harry opened the door out onto the gallery deck, letting Y/N wander out first. She raised her eyebrows some but did as she supposed he wanted her to. Walking out onto the deck, the wind hit her hard across the face. If you stood directly facing it, it was impossible to open your eyes completely. She could see what Harry meant by this being a method to wake up some.

“Please,” Harry said. “Go along.”

Y/N furrowed her brows, but walked further onto the deck, even though she was sure Harry would’ve fit perfectly fine next to where she had originally standing.

“I’ll owe you my life if you just go along for a minute or two, yeah?”

Y/N’s frown deepened as she looked at him. “What?”

“I don’t usually do this,” Harry grinned. “I mean, I never do this. I’ve never done this before. But, you see…” He walked closer to her, taking her face in his hands. “My mum and my sister think I’ve got a girlfriend and I don’t.”

Y/N’s heart instantly melted, and she felt herself grinning right back at him.

“I was wondering, if it’s not too much to ask, of course, if you’d like to be my girlfriend? My real, proper girlfriend.”

She laughed, shaking her head at him before taking a grip of his shirt and bringing him closer. Though she didn’t know why Harry needed to do this at the top of the lighthouse, right under the light that guided sailors home, she didn’t mind. This felt right. This felt like them. This was them. It was real, it felt silly, unexpected, and a little odd, but that was what it felt like being with Harry.

She looked up into his eyes, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll be your real, proper girlfriend.”

Harry let out a breath of relief and grinned down at her, bringing her closer to him and planting a misplaced kiss onto her lips. They both giggled against one another. It hadn’t struck Y/N until now that they hadn’t made it official like this. Too much had been on her mind, she hadn’t allowed much else besides the UCAT to take up her time prior to this moment, but how that it had finally happened, Y/N felt just as relieved as Harry looked to be. She was glad that Harry had waited until now, after the UCAT, to ask, and she was also very glad to see how eager he had been to ask her.

Harry pulled away, detaching a hand from where it had rested at her neck, and held out a bellflower that he had picked outside the cottage. Reaching forward, he placed the bellflower behind Y/N’s ear, smiling to himself as he looked at it, the smile widening as he met her eyes. Y/N felt like she could burst with happiness in that very moment, probably lighting up all the oceans of the world with how much she was radiating.

“My bell room,” Harry said, touching the bellflower resting by her ear before he brought her in for another kiss.

A HUGE thank you to my amazing and beautiful beta readers! Couldn’t have written ST without them! 🌊 @aileenacoustic 🌊 @bopbopstyles 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh 🌊 @harrys-shrooms 🌊 @honeydearly 🌊 @sunflowers-styles 🌊 @watermelonsuger 🌊 @withallthelove-a 🌊

And so it’s over 😭 Thank you thank you thank you! From the bottom of my heart, thank you to each one of you who have been reading, reblogging, come to chat, or sent any sort of love ST’s way the last few months! There is something so liberating and beautiful about creating a world in which you feel peace, and then find that others find that same peace, that same sense of belonging, within the same world as you 💖 Each one of you remind me of why I continue to share my writing on here! Thank you for making writing, Tumblr, and fic fun! You all have my heart 💘 I LOVE YOU 💞💞

As for next fic project, as I’ve gotten quite a few questions about that already !! I’m gonna take a break from writing! Maybe a month, maybe two, dunno! I’ll still be writing some deleted scenes from ST and posting onto my Patreon, but as for a full 10+ chaptered fic, which is what I want to write next, I don’t know! But, as always, I’ll be tagging my posts with new fic tags and planning whenever I get an idea !!!! So keep an eye out lmao !!!!

Besides that, here are two songs I imagine would be playing if the end credits to ST was rolling right now 🐚 You can find the rest of the ST playlist here!

As ST!Harry said, I love you immeasurably, and as Jessa said, you’ll always have a home and a place you belong, here, in the ST universe 🌊

Your bestie, Nora ✨✨

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#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #1dff #I'M SO SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD #BUT ALSO CANNOT WAIT TO HEAR WHAT YOU LOT THINK!!!!

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yesttoheaven · 3 years

Text

AMOR FATI

pairing – neil x female!reader

wc – 3.8k

warnings – mention of death, self-blame, anxious/intrusive thoughts, questioning reality, refusal of help, guns, stalking, but I swear there's a light at the end of the tunnel haha

a/n – The last time I suffered so hard for the death of a character, was when Newt died (Maze Runner) and now Neil has captured all my attention and his death has hit me in the same way 😩 I needed a happy ending so I decided to write this!

The Eternal Return and Amor Fati mentioned in this fic are one of the main ideas of Nietzsche's philosophy.

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

She approached the painting hanging on the wall, watching the details closely. Ouroboros. A serpent eating its own tail. Months ago, when Y/N was visiting an antique store in Mumbai, she saw that same symbol. The owner of the establishment approached when she realized her interest in the piece and explained that Ouroboros represents the ideas of movement, continuity and, in consequence, Eternal Return. A concept that the universe and all existence and energy has been recurring, and will continue to recur, in a self-similar form an infinite number of times across infinite time or space.

"Max finally fell asleep." Kat returned to the living room, attracting Y/N's attention.

She walked away from the painting, taking back her seat on the sofa and asked:

"How is he after everything that happened?"

For a moment, Kat looked at the painting on the wall and then at the friend she won in the midst of confusion over the Algorithm. At that time, despite being fighting on the front lines to prevent a possible Third World War, Y/N seems complete. Happy. Today that happiness no longer exists in her eyes.

Letting out a sigh, the woman sat next to her, answering:

"Sator was never a present father. He was always busy... now i can see the kind of work he was involved in. Anyway, Max just got used to his absence."

"It's notable that he's happier at your side. When we first met Max was a bit of an introvert, but today he is radiant." Y/N confessed, showing a small smile and the blonde shook her head, agreeing with her words. "How's everything?"

"Perfectly well. It's weird sometimes... After years of being stuck in a failed relationship, freedom is good."

"It seems like life is good for one of us." The woman let out a bitter laugh, putting the latest events on a scale, but she didn’t want her friend to think she wasn’t happy for her. She really was. "I'm sorry, I just..." The words remain stuck in her throat, while she covers her face with her hands. In addition to physical and mental fatigue, Y/N tried to hide her grief.

Kat touched her shoulder, showing that she was here.

"I know you're hurt, but it's been three months and you never talked about what happened that day... This is not good for you."

"What do I have to say, Kat? The guy I fell in love with was a fucking time traveler! And now he's dead and I don't know what to do. My life just... stopped without him."

"I can imagine how difficult it's for you to cross that line without Neil at your side, but giving up is not an option. Grief is consuming you little by little and you are just accepting it..."

"We are trained to contain our emotions and deal with death in the best possible way. It used to be easy for me, but then he came and turned my life upside down." Y/N put her hands on her knees and stood up, walking without an exact destination. "Neil was always one step ahead of us all..." She stepped forward too and found the painting again, but her mind was lost in thoughts about him. Neil knew her so well. And he had a charming smile, but completely arrogant at the same time. "I was sent to Mumbai to help two agents and when I arrived at Priya's penthouse that night, there he was. When he saw me, that was the first and only time that he let his guard down. I'll never forget how he looked at me, it was one of those breathtaking moments... Completely cliché, I know."

On the sofa, Kat was impressed. When Y/N turned towards her, there was a bright smile on her face. The simple memory brought her a breath of happiness and Kat enjoyed seeing her friend like that, but unfortunately that moment did not last long. Memories aren't enough. Neil is dead and nothing can change that.

"I miss him so much, Kat." The smile disappeared as soon as tears appeared in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks.

"My dear..." Worried about her, the woman got up quickly and approached Y/N, wrapping her in a tight hug. "I'm really sorry."

"I spent the last three months locked up in my a-apartment because I thought I could handle this situation on my own. At times I b-believed it was just a fever dream... Maybe I was losing my mind, but this is proof that everything was real." Through tears blurring her vision, she looked at the watch on her wrist, remembering that night.

Y/N was in a private cabin on the ship. The others were with Ives and Wheeler, going over the mission in search of any loose ends. A standard procedure. Y/N knew she should be with them, but she needed a moment alone to organize her thoughts. And that moment is now. The past few weeks had been a real mess. The inversion was difficult to explain and mainly to understand. She was used to field missions, but being an inverted soldier on the battlefield was not in her plans. Either way, she agreed to be a part of it and running away with biased assumptions was not going to help. Humanity depends on them.

Three knocking on the door caught Y/N's attention, but she remained silent, waiting for the person to give up and leave, but when it didn't, she just murmured 'Come in'.

"So, here you are." The man used a surprised tone of voice and closed the door behind him. "What will our superior think when he learns that you are running away from the briefing?"

She let out a laugh before answering in the same mood:

"Don't worry, I know this mission like the back of my hand. I just needed a moment."

"There's something wrong? Are you ok?" Neil spilled the questions quickly, visibly concerned for her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Neil." Y/N smiled at him, but looked away just seconds later, confessing: "Maybe I'm a little surprised by the situation. I have spent years dealing with terrorists, but the inversion is really not my point."

"I'm not good with advice, but someone once said to me: Don't try to understand. Certain things in the world do not need an explanation."

"It's wise advice, but I'm a methodical person. Logic has always been my ally in missions."

"A methodical person, huh?" He asked with an arrogant smile playing on his lips and she just rolled her eyes. "I know how worried you were when Sator shot Kat, but we are using the inversion to save the world and you're one of the most brilliant agents I have ever seen. Everything will be fine."

"Are you praising me?"

"What's that? Can't I praise my partner's talent?" Neil pulled up a chair to sit across from her, crossing his arms.

"In that case, thank you. Remind me to put this on my resume." Those words made him laugh and that sound could easily be compared to music in her ears.

Touching her knee, Neil added:

"We are very confident with the mission. You don't need to worry."

"Are you sure?"

"I cannot say that unforeseen events do not happen, but we are prepared for that." Y/N knew he was right, but this mission is the biggest one so far. It's not about saving a country. It's about saving the entire world. This was arousing insecurities in her and it was like walking in a minefield. Ironically, she was familiar with this, but not in such catastrophic proportions. "I want you to have this." The man took his watch off his wrist and handed it to her.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" The question came out as a whisper from between her lips.

It didn't make sense. Why does everything in this conversation look like a farewell?

"We will be on opposite sides tomorrow, but i want you to know... I will always be with you, Y/N."

"I saw the way he looked at you... That's how I used to look at Sator before he became a monster in my life." Kat started, running a hand through Y/N's hair. "When I was lying on that stretcher and partially drugged with the medicines, I saw him beside you... watching you sleep. There was so much love in his eyes. Love for a lifetime, Y/N. So don't do this to yourself. The way he left hurt us all, but there was nothing you or any other agent could do to change what happened at Stalask-12. Neil saved the world. This gave us a second chance. You cannot give up now. This organization needs you. And keeping your mind busy at that moment is the first step towards a fresh start."

"N-No, I can't..." She broke the hug, shaking her head in denial. "I left the organization."

"What? Don't you work for Tenet anymore? But when we first met you told me that you can't imagine working in another area... And that this is your life's work."

"Being an agent is my life's work. I was in Yemen when Tenet found me and assigned me to this mission. My only job is to make this world a less hostile place, but the motto of this organization is not what I believe, Kat. What's happened's happened. Really? It doesn't work for me." Y/N ended the sentence with drops of anger in her voice and Kat did not say a single word.

Through the newspapers, Max's mother followed what was happening in Yemen over the years – a real endless war – and knowing that Y/N was in the middle of it, makes the situation unquestionable. People died in front of her eyes. Friends of the corporation. And then some time later, Tenet arrived with a fresh start, but in the end everything remained the same. She lost Neil. It is as if her life's work never had a happy ending because the world will never stop being a hostile place.

"He knows?" It was easy for Y/N to identify who she was talking about. The Protagonist. Or just TP.

"Here's another problem. I worked with him and indirectly worked for him at the same time! God, that man created this organization! And his name remains a mystery to us all!" She pinched the tip of her nose, feeling frustrated with all the secrets that haunt this organization. "And answering your question, yes, he knows, but he did not argue about it. I was a complete mess and he was not doing very well either... He stayed in my apartment for the first month, probably to make sure I didn't do anything stupid." And Y/N would be forever grateful for that. She likes him. Just as friends, of course. TP was a reserved man, but it was he who held her when everything was falling apart. "But we've had a fight. I blamed him for what happened at Stalask-12 and since then we haven't spoken anymore."

It was easy to see that they carried more pain than they could actually bear. Y/N lost her great love and the man lost his best friend. The situation just turned into a conflict between them and that was the result.

Realizing the sadness reflected in Y/N's eyes, Kat decided to change the subject of the conversation. Keeping that thought, she smiled and pointed to the painting on the wall. Maybe that could help.

"You seemed interested in this one."

"Oh yes, in my spare time I am a lover of art and its meanings. It is really attractive the way Ouroboros is connected to the Eternal Return..."

"And Amor Fati too." Kat completed, piquing Y/N's curiosity. This part was new to her. "It's impossible to affirm the Eternal Return without loving life. We need to learn that things happen as they do. Sometimes seemingly good. Sometimes seemingly bad. We don’t always get it our way... Unless we choose that whatever way it is, is our way. When we choose to Amor Fati, to love everything that happens, to love our fate, then we will always get it our way. Because the way it is, is the way it is. Unchangable. And therefore it must be good, even if it sucks."

These words touched Y/N's heart. This was a contradiction to what she is experiencing right now. Love your fate. She would like to understand and accept what happened, she really wanted, but why is it so difficult to move on?

Because Neil is dead.

That was the only explanation for her. The end of a relationship would be more acceptable. If he were alive, things would be completely different now. However, grief is overwhelming. How could she just accept what happened?

"I... I gotta go." That was all she managed to say before picking up her bag and leave the penthouse, ignoring Kat's protests.

When the elevator doors closed, an exhausted sigh left her mouth and the instant she saw her reflection in the mirror, Y/N wanted to cry again. After three months alone, she thought visiting her friend would be a good idea. Kat was willing to help, but the problem was that Y/N is not allowing herself to be helped. As soon as the doors opened, she left the metal box and found the hotel lobby partially empty. Her watch showed it was 3:13 AM, this explains the absence of people on the street as well. In front of her car, she searched the bag for the key and coincidentally her cell phone started to vibrate. Probably the text messages were from Kat, but confusion hit Y/N the instant she looked at the identifier and saw that the messages did not belong to any of her contacts.

Stay away from the car

They put a bomb

I'm on my way

Her first reaction was to take a few steps back and look around, trying to understand what’s going on and find the person responsible for these texts, but Y/N was alone in the dark street. When she thought it might be an unnecessary prank, a black SUV approached at high speed. The car stopped just a few meters away from where she was, but that was enough to make her body freeze.

"Y/N, come on!" The man exclaimed, the urgency in his voice would have made her run immediately, but she didn't move. Her feet had frozen on the floor. This cannot be real. "Come on, get in the car! We don't have much time!" He tried again, it was possible to hear the sound of the other cars approaching.

Y/N watched in slow motion the moment he left the car and ran towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"How is this possible?" She asked in a whisper, completely lost in his blue eyes.

"It's good to see you too." Neil admitted, feeling his heart race. She looked so fragile in his arms. Very different from the last time he saw her. "We have to go." He accompanied her to the car and as soon as Y/N took the passenger seat, he returned to his seat.

For her this moment was like a fever dream, so she just looked down and started counting her fingers. One, two, three, four, five... Neil noticed, but said nothing, just kept driving. The cars were fast approaching, but he would do everything possible and impossible to get Y/N away from these people.

"Give me your cell phone." He looked at her for a brief moment, but when Y/N didn’t react, he wasn't sure if she heard it, so he just took the phone from her hand and threw it out the window. That was enough to get her out of the numbness:

"What the fuck, Neil?!"

Despite the adrenaline rushing through his body, the man laughed.

"If I found you because of your cell phone, they can too." After that, he crossed the red light and made a risky turn, trying to end this chase. "Before you ask, no, this is not a dream. Unfortunately this is very real..." Neil didn't like what he saw when he adjusted the rearview mirror. "And now they are getting ready to shoot us."

That observation put Y/N on alert and she looked back, seeing a man with an AKS-74U and another with a Beretta M12.

"If you knew it wasn't a dream, why didn't you bring an armored car?" She ran her tongue between her lips, smiling at the man beside her. Neil tried to argue, but she just took off her seat belt and picked up the Glock 19 stuck in the vest he was wearing.

Y/N crawled out of the car and sat at the window opening. This encouraged the men in the two cars to start shooting, trying desperately to hit her. Neil shouted something that she couldn't understand and then she felt one of his hands on her thigh, giving her stability to continue with the plan. With her arm resting on the roof of the vehicle, Y/N aimed the gun at the car that was closest to them. Her intention was not to start a firefight in the middle of one of the main avenues in the city, but she had no other option. Holding her breath, she fired the first shot and the bullet hit the tire, taking the car out of circulation. Y/N celebrated while preparing for the second car, but dealing with this one was not an easy task. Now they were in a tunnel and, consequently, losing speed because of the other cars that came along the way. Neil left two pats on her leg, indicating that she had better get back in the car and that is what she did. Screams, honks and gunshots echoed through the tunnel, turning the place into a war zone. Whoever these men were, Y/N knew they weren't going to give up.

Tired of playing cat and mouse, she went to the back seat, getting on her knees. Through the broken glass above the trunk, Y/N adjusted the aim of her gun, ignoring the sniper and focusing on the driver. With another accurate shot, the bullet hit the man's chest and he lost control of the vehicle. The car overturned for a while, streaking the asphalt, but no other car was involved in the accident. Y/N sighed in relief and looked for another possible threat, just checking, but when she realized that the area was clean, she returned to the passenger seat, leaving the gun on the dashboard in front of her.

"Next time I'm going to get an armored car." Neil comments, stepping on the gas. "Nice shot, by the way."

"Anytime." Y/N smiled, trying to control her breathing.

With the adrenaline disappearing from her body, it was hard for her to believe that this was really happening. For many nights she cried, wondering what it would be like if Neil just came back to her, but now she was afraid to wake up and realize that it was just another vivid dream.

The sun was rising when they arrived in a shed away from the city. Seen from the outside, the place was a little scary, but the interior wasn't that bad. There was some equipment like trackers, walkie-talkie, bulletproof vests, weapons, ammunition; a table with a mess of papers and on the other side two beds and something that Y/N supposed to be a private bathroom.

"Where we are?"

We. That simple word echoed in her mind. Y/N thought that "we" didn't exist anymore.

"For now in a safe place. It's dangerous for you out there." He answered the question and took a bottle of water, handing it to her after taking a generous sip.

"Who are these people, Neil?" She wanted answers, lots of answers, and that frustrated the british spy because for the first time he didn't know what could happen.

Neil had a mission and that mission ended with him dying in Stalask-12, but after what TP did, everything changed.

"We have a name..." He wanted to say more, he wanted to reassure her, but that was all he had at the moment.

Y/N drank some water and left the bottle on the table, looking at some reports and photos. All photos were of the same man.

Lenard Vaher

"But apparently they don't just want you..."

It took a few seconds and when the realization hit Y/N, concern appeared on her face.

No, not him.

"Where's TP? He's safe, right?"

"He was going to see you when Lenard's men kidnapped him. This happened three weeks ago." And considering the anger in Neil's voice, finding TP was proving an almost impossible task, but in the midst of so much concern, one point attracted Y/N's attention.

"You said he was going to see me..."

"There was something he needed to tell you." Neil sighed, resting his hands on the table. A few strands of blond hair fell over his forehead, but he quickly shook his head back, as he always did. "He returned to Stalask-12, Y/N."

After that statement, the only sound that could be heard was Neil's footsteps closing the distance between them and the first thing she did was put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Neil smiled. And that was not one of his famous smiles. That was a shy smile. His heart was beating like a drum and it was all because of her. Loving Y/N was something so special and pure, that Neil accepted his fate without a second thought. Saving the world, he was giving her a second chance to live, but now he is the one who received a second chance.

"I missed you every day." Before she could begin to consider the meaning behind his words, he settled his mouth upon hers, robbing her of thought.

She closed her eyes and melted against him, flattening her hands on his arms. Neil caught her bottom lip in his teeth, nibbling and licking at it until she thought she might perish from the intensity of the feeling. She whimpered at the sensation, and he rewarded the sound by deepening the kiss, giving her everything she desired. His tongue stroked hers, slow and insistent. A lush, decadent pleasure unfolded within them, snaking through their veins as though it had lain coiled in anticipation for years.

Just waiting for this moment.

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a/n – really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ;)

#neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet #neil #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson imagine #tenet fanfic #tenet imagine #ives tenet #tenet #neil tenet one shot #neil tenet imagine #robert pattinson one shot #neil tenet x y/n #x y/n #amor fati #eternal return

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llogllady99 · 3 years

Text

Au revoir

CHARACTERS | Levi, Erwin, Hange, Mike, Nanaba, Petra, Kuchel

RELATIONSHIPS | Erwin x Levi, Mike x Nanaba, Petra x Hange

GENRE | Reincarnation, Smut, Romance

IV | Alternate Universe- Reincarnation. Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Romance, Smut, Angst and fluff and smut, French Levi, Student Levi, Writer Erwin, Light angst, Alternate Universe - Coffee shops.

Summary | “Puis-je vous aider ?” That voice, the familiar voice. It rang through his head and brought back memories of the man he had tried to find for so long. He lifted his gaze and was met with the sight of no one other than Levi freaking Ackerman, cleaning a cup, completely oblivious to him.“

Levi.”

Erwin and Levi meet again in the modern world.Series

Levi will never admit to anyone that he thoroughly enjoyed reading romance novels. Yes, they were a bit too cheesy for his liking and maybe some of the passage were kind of forced, but the way they made his stomach drop and heart flutter was enough to keep him buying one novel after another. His first novel of such kind was: Madame Bovary, a book which he stole when his mother was away at work. At the green age of 12 Levi hid in the house’s library, right behind the couch and began absorbing the words hungrily, gaping and gasping in shock whenever Emma’s affair with Rodolphe or Leon would appear in the book. He didn’t necessarily enjoy the story as it was quite bland compared to the romcoms he and his mother would watch on Sundays, but was instead mesmerised by the rose scented perfume that lingered among the pages, a phenomenon which he didn’t encounter in other books because, as his mother told him later, Madame Bovary had been a vessel for Kuchel to deliver her love letters to the post office back when she was younger.

Coincidently, Levi was now holding the same book, enjoying it with a little more fervour and fascination as he himself, in his twenty-one years of life, had experienced some form or pretence of love at some point with maybe two or three of his lovers. Wetting his finger he turned the page and finished what was left of the chapter he was currently reading. He let the book down and stared out the window of the train he was embarked on in other to return to his childhood home: Marseille, France.

Levi remembered his past life. This life had treated him extremely kindly, almost as if the universe was apologising for the hell it put him through the last one. He was born and raised in the countryside, his childhood being characterised by stealing from vineyards, scraped knees, and dirty faces, a fun and ideal childhood. His mother, although having gone through a divorce when he was small, was now well and alive, indulging herself with a quality lifestyle and relaxing hobbies; his home forever full of jamon, quality wine, fresh sea food, and oil paintings in easels adjourning his hilltop village house’s balcony crowded with red boungainvillea. He had met Hange and Petra in the same village at the sea on a hot summer’s day, introducing himself brusquely, startling the girls, who lacked even an inch of recognition for him in their eyes. Levi quickly realised that not everyone remembered their past life and as such he should keep quiet. Nonetheless, the three quickly became inseparable, their bond not destroyed but only slightly deterred when him and Hange left for university, leaving Petra back home alone. Levi had left to study architecture at the university of Sorbonne and Hange to England to study Medicine at the Imperial College of London, surprising both herself and her friends when she had only applied at the university on a whim not even half expecting to get accepted, but she was the smartest person he knew and if anyone deserved it then it would undoubtedly be her.

Apart from them, Levi had not encountered anyone else from his past life, and by anyone else he only meant Erwin, his blonde, tall, and handsome commander. It was a disappointment that after so much time he still hadn’t managed to meet him, one which left him with an enormous hole in his stomach that would only get bigger every time he allowed himself to think about his past lover. He eventually lost hope and stopped looking for him all together. He had not told Hange and Petra about him however, instead choosing to keep his existence and unsuccessful search all to himself. After all, it is simply expression that gives reality to things. Never mind the fact that he would sound batshit crazy, but if he would have opened his mouth and openly voice the fact that he had not found him yet, then there would have been chances of not meeting him at all. He was still clinging to a thin thread of hope that Erwin will keep his promise of them reuniting again eventually.

At once, the train pulled in Marseille’s train station with a deafening horn, its locomotive letting out clouds of white vapour that swirled fast up in the azure sky, and announced its passengers that they have reached their destination. Levi stepped on the platform, and dragging his black suitcase behind him, he inhaled the fresh country air as a warm feeling came over him. He had arrived home.

On the other side of the globe, free lance writer Erwin Smith was packing his suitcase hurriedly, throwing clothes chaotically in his suitcase. He was terribly late for his flight.

Summer always turned unbearably hot in Miami, the dry heat and the omnipresent smell of sweat managing to deeply irritate Erwin. That had been his initial plan for the summer: change shirt after shirt as he walked the road from his apartment, a small 2 bedroom space that lacked air conditioners and that would turn into a literal oven during the hotter months of the year, and his publisher. Therefore, when Mike and Nanaba invited him to celebrate together their anniversary in Marseille, France, he didn’t hesitate to agree, he actually did with so much desperation that he worried even himself. He had quickly called his publisher making up some shitty excuse to extend his deadline, spattering something about how the sweet mediterranean breeze will to wonders to his inspiration. He lied, and quite horribly so, he had finished the chapter he was due but hadn’t edited it yet, a chore which he assigned himself for when he would return. Quickly closing his suitcase and praying that he didn’t leave everything behind, he ran out the apartment and waved his arm frantically in the direction of a cab that happened to be passing by.

Erwin also happened remembered his past life, something he cursed and treasured at the same time. He treasured the memory of Levi but cursed whenever he would wake up in the middle of the night covered in sweat screaming as he felt the phantom pain from when he lost him arm, something that had somehow followed him into this life also. Just like Levi, Erwin also learned that not everyone remembered their past life. His first such experience had been when he woke up screaming when he was small due to a very unpleasant memory, one filled with titans, blood and the death of his comrades. His father had come to comfort him but dismissed everything as just a nightmare that sprouted from Erwin’s wild imagination. At the age of 16 he started writing everything he remembered before being reincarnated and then at the age of 24 after graduating from university he published a book retelling his story. Society, just like his father, quickly dismissed it under the false and shallow pretension of fiction. Erwin didn’t mind, and at an interview when he was asked what had inspired him to write such a masterpiece, he simple answered: “It’s as if I’ve lived this life before”. In retrospect, a bold statement, but one that had triggered incredulous looks and nervous laughs. It didn’t matter, as long as he was the one that knew the truth.

At the airport, he was met with a very angry Nanaba, that proceeded to punch him in the shoulder as soon as she spotted him coming through the automatic sliding doors, dressed with cargo short pants, white t-shirt and one of those hawaiian shirts, espadrilles not missing from completing his outfit. He apologised and shook Mike’s hand, that came up from Nanaba, trying to calm his petite lover from ending Erwin’s life then and there. His friends, like everyone else he had become acquainted with in this life, did not remember their past lives. They had met in college when he tried to hit on Nanaba and earned himself a punch from Mike, who apologised shortly after and bought him a drink.

“You are well aware we’re going to France, right?” Mike eyed his outfit, and scrunched his nose in something close but not quite to disgust.

“The eccentric writer facade ain’t holding up anymore, you seriously need to change outfits.” Nanaba also joined in.

“I was up writing, thence the messy outfit. I do actually have fancy clothes packed.” Erwin retorted, trying to save himself from their scrutinising gazes.

“Good, because I want to enjoy some of those pretentious wines they’re so famous from at one of those expensive terraces that overlook the sea without wanting to crawl under the table from being seen with a hobo like you. Now come on, plane’s not waiting for anyone.” Nanaba flipped him off, her way of reprimanding him.

“Au revoir America, bien venue France!” Erwin exclaimed, mixing french with english.

“How much did it take to learn those?” Mike asked, amused.

“Only 3 thorough Duolingo lessons, of course.”

Levi pushed the door of the little vintage cafe open and was immediately met with the sight of Hange engaging in quite a heated make-out session with Petra. His arrival at home yesterday was met with nothing more than pure joy, as he was bombarded by his mother’s kisses as soon as he walked into the house. They spent a quiet evening on the balcony, enjoying some tea and simply talking the evening away. It felt good to return, he missed the salted air, the chilly breeze, the pink flowers and green bushes, and the exquisite view of the mediterranean sea. Later, when the mosquitoes had started to annoy them, Levi and Kuchel retired back inside the living room, where he was urged by her to play her favourite piece on the piano that had dust on it from never being used anymore. Upon the arrival of the next day, Levi headed to Petra’s cafe, a small vintage shop, which she had opened up quite recently after successfully raising the funds necessary. It was right in the middle of the hill, its glass windows giving a clear view of the stony road and orange coloured walls and roads of the city.

“You guys should get a room, it’s gross.” He said, not one bit of disgust lacing his words. He truly was happy to see his friends again.

“Levi!!!!!” Hange squealed and broke away from Petra, practically jumping over the counter before she threw herself in his arms, hugging him tightly. Petra’s behaviour was hardly any different, surging on the other two and tumbling all three of them down to the floor. They stayed like that for a few minutes until the first customer of the day arrived with an awkward cough to get their attention. For the rest of the day, they chatted quietly, each with a cup of special Petra coffee in their hands, reminiscing about old childhood memories and the things they did while they were apart. Hange had successfully landed an internship at a renowned research company back in London and Petra bought her first place, somewhere they would surely go after she closed the cafe.

“So how’s it going for you Levi? You seeing anyone?” Hange interrupted a peaceful silence then took another sip of her coffee, eyeing him curiously.

“Well, no not really. I guess I’m still waiting for the right person.” Levi replied, his mind drifting off involuntarily to Erwin.

“That’s a pity, tell him Petra!”

“I guess so.” The strawberry blonde sighed, scrubbing the counter. She looked troubled, stressed if Levi knew any better.

“Everything all right?” He asked, hoping she would tell him what was bothering her.

“Theoretically yes, the cafe’s been growing in popularity and the number of costumers has increased exponentially and it has become harder and harder for me to keep up. It’s afternoon and I’m already exhausted.”

“Hire someone to help you.” He offered.

“I would have, I even put up a sign a while ago asking for help, but it’s summer and you know how it is. Everyone would rather bathe than work.” Petra leaned on the counter, huffing exhausted.

“You know, Hange and I could help you if you’d like, until the summer’s end and till you find someone.” Levi scooted over closer to Petra and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Sure! There is nothing we’d rather do, Pet.” Hange joined in, assuring her girlfriend.

“You guys, thank you.” Petra smiled brightly, exhaling in relief.

Their first day in Marseille had been spent at the beach until they were all fried. Well, Erwin had managed to get a nice tan, save for the red slight burns on his shoulders, those didn’t count. Nanaba had made sure to use sunscreen, but with her pale skin tone, she had turned into a lobster by mid afternoon. Deciding that it was enough sun for today, the three settled on exploring the city, in particular the ports, where smell of fresh caught fish would imbue their noses, the hill village, the sights recommended on the internet, like the colourful Noailles Market, Musée des Civilisatons de l’Europe et de la Méditerranée, and following a maniacal Nanaba that sprinted through every shop in La Panier.

As six o’clock came by, hunger made its presence known in their stomachs, they started searching for a restaurant. With an immense amount of luck and without too much time spent looking, the three had found themselves in Restaurant Peron, escorted to a four persons table right next to the clear glass that provided them with an extraordinary view of the sea, admiring the calm relentless waves and snow white moon that reflected itself on the clear water. When the waiter came, Erwin ordered, putting on his best french accent.

“Un Ricard, s’il vous plait.” He managed to make a fool out of himself, sounding exactly like an ignorant American. Un Ricard was an alcoholic beverage made with aniseed and spice that turns an enticing shade of yellow once water is added, a local must try. Nanaba ordered herself an Aperol sprits and Mike a whiskey on the rocks. The waiter bowed and went to get their drinks. While they waited the three engaged in casual conversation, their voices accompanied by the low murmur of the sea and other people’s conversation.

“I believe this has been quite a successful weekend, don’t you think, honey?” Nanaba asked Mike, leaning her face on her hands.

“Indeed. Happy 5th Anniversary, Nanaba!” Mike kissed her cheek tenderly. Erwin watched the display with nothing more than pure envy. It wasn’t fair that they had found each other despite not knowing their past life, it was utterly infuriating and it made Erwin seethe with anger and frustration, both emotions directed more at himself because he had not found him yet, Levi, his lover, his everything.

“Excuse me, monsieur. I brought the drinks.” The waiter interrupted them, making Erwin forever grateful as he was not sure how much more he could bare. He bowed and retrated, leaving them to enjoy their drinks. The Ricard Pastis Erwin had ordered had a creamy texture and yellow colour, bringing the glass to his lips, he tasted it, immediately scrunching up his nose from how strong it was. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to it, god knows his college years hard served for so much, so many nights spent drowning vodka and absinth bottles, he just hadn’t expected it to be so strong, he thought it would be like Nanaba’s Aperol, slightly bitter and sweet. Mike was sipping slowly on his whiskey and asked:

“Any plans for tomorrow?”

“How about we stick to just visiting the town, my skin can’t take any more sun.” Nanaba proposed, hinting to her burnt shoulders that were covered with a very nice white blouse. Mike and Erwin both agreed.

Levi fumbled with the speakers’ wire trying to get them to connect with his phone. It was his first shift today together with Petra, Hange will come later tonight to take his place, something completely unnecessary as he would stay anyway. It was his turn to choose the playlist and he resorted to a simple jazz playlist that would blend in nicely in the background acting as white noise. Once that was settled, he wrapped around himself the black apron with the shop’s logo on it and went up to the counter, patiently waiting for the first costumer.

Their second day in Marseille was spent indulging in even more sightseeing. Nanaba woke them up at the crack of dawn, excited and completely oblivious to Mike’s and Erwin’s sower moods, dragging them with her to their first destination: Basilique Notre-Dame de la Garde. Located in a breathtaking hilltop, this spectacular church is the most important landmark in Marseilles. The site was used in ancient times as an observation point, and during the Middle Ages, was the location of a pilgrimage chapel. Erwin enjoyed the renaissance architecture, admiring the big hemispherical dome with a big golden cross on top of it, the golden statuette of what he reckoned was Virgin Mary, the symmetrical high arches, and smaller, little angel statues. It was truly a sight to behold. Their next destination was also a historical landmark: Abbaye Saint-Victor, a house of worship once belonged to an abbey founded in the 5th century. The abbey's basilica is one of the oldest buildings in Marseilles that is still intact, with foundations dating back to Early Christian and Carolingian times. With its crenellated walls and towers, the foreboding exterior has the feel of a medieval fortress. Inside, the basilica reveals a simple and somber design, which gives it a special aura. The crypt houses sarcophagi of the 4th and 5th centuries, as well as the 11th-century tombstone of Abbot Isarnus. It fascinated Erwin immensely, so much so that he filled his gallery with the amount of selfies and normal pictures he took.

He lied when he said he would find his inspiration here, but he was not so sure that it was true. The city’s architecture and overall way of being, from the local’s lifestyle, to its history and vibe, Erwin was sure to use all of this while working on his new book. Wether he would add a spin off in the book, or make references and parallels to everything he saw here.

It was now mid-afternoon and Erwin was exhausted, the sun constantly warming his head had not done a great job of comforting him in the slightest. They were now in Le Panier again, Nanaba having decided that she did not see all of it the day before and that it was absolutely mandatory they go again. Not wanting to be a burden, although he would have much rather gone to his room, Erwin agreed and set on following closely the two before him who were very much engrossed in their own little world. The old town, like any other part of Marseille they had visited, was also magnificent, with its romanesque architecture, houses that were colourful and joined together, and paved streets. It also housed a lot of shade, making him able to cool down and gather up whatever strength he had left.

The thirst he had tried to ignore for the better part of the day had become unbearable, his throat dry like a desert. As such, Erwin made it his mission to find some place from where he could purchase a water bottle. They passed by jewellery stores and artisan themed shops, displaying their handmade products, like dresses with weird designs from cottons, crystals, wooden scultpures, etc. Finally, in a corner, they had found a small cafe: Haricots vapeur de Petra. Quite a long name for a cafe but who was he to judge. He asked Nanaba and Mike if they wanted to join him but they quickly refused, instead choosing to go ahead. Erwin announced them that they will be seeing each other at the hotel before dinner. That way he could spare a few hours relaxing at the small tables placed outside the cafe, enjoying whatever drinks they were serving. He pushed the front door open and was immediately assaulted by the scent of fresh brewed coffee. The cafe was very nice, inside was quite chilly as there was the air conditioner blowing. Its walls were made of brick, from them hanging several plants, portraits, and drawings of people having coffee and the like. It had small circular tables with purple plush chairs that contrasted perfect to the black counter that housed pastries of all kinds: croissants (of course), pains au chocolate, cinnamon rolls, and macarons of all kinds of colours. It was just like an ordinary American cafe.

“Puis-je vous aider ?” That voice, the familiar voice. It rang through his head and brought back memories of the man he had tried to find for so long. He lifted his gaze and was met with the sight of no one other than Levi freaking Ackerman, cleaning a cup, completely oblivious to him.

“Levi."

“Levi.”

That voice. It couldn’t be could it? Levi refused to look up, he was imagining things, it was because of the song, the song he played the man a life time ago. We’ll meet again was playing through the cafe’s speakers, it was only natural he would be thinking back to when he visited Erwin’s grave one last time. With his hands now shaking he continued to clean the glass even more frantically, wiping away inexistent water, droplets he imagined were still there.

“Levi, is that you?” Once would be considered a coincidence, but twice? Finally, the raven haired boy looked up, only to have his breath stuck in his throat. Right in front of him was Erwin freaking Smith, the man he loves even to this day, the time spent together and the promises still so fresh in his mind. Erwin had kept his promise, he found Levi.

“Erwin.” Levi croaked, overwhelmed by emotions. He ran around the counter, stopping for a moment in front of his lover to look at him again. Erwin was exactly the same, except for an almost unnoticeable tan, his hair was now sitting comfortably on his forehead, instead of being styled back with gel. Levi jumped into his arms, wrapping his legs around the other's waist so tight, afraid to let go as he might disappear, proving only to be a figment of his imagination. He buried his face into Erwin's neck, inhaling the scent of cologne, sweat, and sunscreen. His lover snaked his hands around his waist and held him tightly, in the same desperate manner. Pulling away, Levi looked into his eyes again, relieved to see the same warm sapphire blue orbs staring right back at him. They were whole again, together again. Unable to hide his excitement anymore, the raven brought their lips together in a kiss, one in which they poured all of their emotions, the longing, love, and relief they had for one another were all present.

“Tu m’as trouvé!” Levi pulled back, out of breath.

“English please.” Erwin chuckled, running a hand through his hair, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his year before putting him down. Levi looked at him in confusion. If Erwin didn’t know french then that meant…

“We should perhaps talk. Wait here for a moment please.” He told him, pulling his hand away from where it was intertwined with the other’s. Taking a step back, he began untying his apron, then turned on his feet to head to the back where Petra was, baking pastries probably.

“Petra, can you cover for me? Something came up. Hange should be here soon, I hope you don’t mind.” At the sound of his voice, Petra turned around just as she was leaning down to grab the tray with freshly baked pastries from the oven. She searched his face, noticing the look of bewilderment, and made to grab his arm in comfort. Levi pulled away.

“I’ll tell you later, but please let me go!” Levi all but begged, making Petra shake her head with wide eyes as she still didn’t understand what was going on.

“Call me if anything happens.” She demanded. Levi thanked her then bolted out back to the front of the cafe where Erwin was waiting awkwardly in the door, never actually having left the spot. As soon as the blonde spotted him, he offered the other the usual warm smile.

“Why don’t you speak french, Erwin.” Levi asked him and gestured for the other to follow him out the cafe. Once outside they started walking on the direction of Levi’s house, unbeknownst yet to Erwin.

“I’m actually a tourist.” Erwin murmured, understanding finally the graveness of their situation.

“Where are you from then?” Levi croaked, his disappointment taking the best of him.

“USA, came here on vacation with some friends.”

“Américain.” Levi spat, his frustration finally showing. “How are we going to make it work Erwin?”

“I don’t know Levi, I believe that’s a problem for another time. I’m here for another week, let’s enjoy ourselves shall we?” Erwin took his hand and kissed it in an assuring manner, smiling again.

“Okay.”

And enjoy themselves they did. Making sure that Kuchel was out, Levi brought Erwin to his house, taking him through every room while he talked about his childhood, his vocabulary limited because his english wasn’t very good. Fortunately, Erwin was patient and didn’t push him, instead helped him by filling in the gaps with google translate or by using his own words when he understood the direction the story was headed in. At some point, they stumbled upon the piano and the blonde urged him to play it, Levi complying not only by second nature, thinking involuntarily to their time on their battlefield, but also by desire, pouring his heart and soul into each and every key he pressed, eliciting sounds that would later formed the master piece named Canon in D major. Erwin listened intently, absorbing every sound Levi produced, his gaze focused solely and completely on him. His lover playing the piano was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. The onyx black hair hung loosely in the air as Levi played, his brows furrowing in concentration, and shoulders tensing when he lifted each hand over the keyboard.

As the song came to an end, unable to hold himself back anymore, Erwin scooped Levi up in his arms and brought him to the couch, the other straddling his waist. It was all too much, the smell of Levi, the feel of Levi, the smooth alabaster skin, silky hair, minty breath, and citrus smelling musk. Levi, Levi, Levi. Erwin brought their lips together in a heated kiss, introducing his tongue shortly after, probing the entrance then entering fully. For a while, that was all they did. They kissed like teenagers, running their hands through each other’s bodies, remapping and rediscovering them. Slowly, Levi became more demanding and started to undo Erwin’s shirt, pulling it down his shoulders and caressed his hand over his chest, playing with the curly strands of blond hair that lined it, although scarce. He then kissed his neck and clavicle. All the while, Erwin had been undressing Levi, his fingers now at his entrance, working slowly but steadily their way in. In his arms, the raven writhed, low moans filling the room.

Done with the stretching, Erwin positioned himself at the other’s entrance, entering him slowly as to not hurt him. Once he was fully seated, he waited for Levi’s signal to move, a slow nod in the pit of his neck shortly after. Their rhythm was slow at first, an occasion to feel each other out, but as their moans got louder in volume, the pace, inevitably increased, turning the love making session into something more rushed and more carnal. They had all week ahead of them, they had plenty of time for slow and passionate love later. After a few more minutes each of them reached their climax, Levi first by tensing all of the sudden, his mouth open in a silent scream, then Erwin shortly after with a low groan. The smaller of the two slumped his forehead against the other’s chest and tried to recover, his panting waning.

“I love you.” Erwin brought his lover’s head up and looked him straight in the eye. Levi replied with a lop-sided me too before retaking his position in the crook of his neck, where he shortly passed out, the physical and emotional effort from the day finally taking their toll on his petite frame.

For the rest of the week, Levi showed Erwin the rest of Marseille, taking him sailing with Petra and Hange, snorkelling in the turquoise water, dining in other less famous restaurants that harboured a magnificent view nonetheless, and hiking. Levi also got to meet Nanaba and Mike, a meeting that was awkward at first but then turned casual as the chemistry they had in their past life never had quite gone away. It was now their last day, and they both chose to organise a brunch on a boat Erwin offered to rent. It had started out great, the interactions between the rest of the group going smoothly, but as night inched closer, Levi grew significantly more and more upset. The reason, revealed to him that night when they were alone, tucked in bed together, was none other than Erwin’s departure. It was time to say goodbye, their short week of heaven brought to an end by force of circumstance, a tragic end to an equally beautiful story. A soulmate who was not meant to be, at least not in this lifetime. They could try a long distance relationship, but that was inconvenient for both of them, they would soon fall apart, each having to take care of their lives. Levi had to work towards a degree and Erwin towards finishing a new book.

“Don’t go.” Levi suddenly croaked, turning towards him and taking his hands, kissing each of their knuckles. “I don’t want you leaving me again.”

Erwin turned his head away in thought. He was a writer, he could basically work from anywhere. In Paris he was sure to find a good publisher, working while also living with Levi in his apartment. If he put in a little effort he might manage it. But what about Nanaba and Mike? Would they understand? Would they still maintain their bond? Is he willing to give everything up for Levi? Erwin furrowed his brows, concentrating and thinking even more. Of course, he would go to the end of the earth for Levi, would rip his heart out of his chest and give it to him. Therefore, he voiced the only obvious answer for his lover’s request:

“I’ll stay.”

At the airport the next day Erwin hugged Levi and kissed him on the cheek, bidding his goodbye to his lover. After accepting to stay, they both decided that it would be best for Erwin to return to the states to get his affairs into order and when he would be finished he would return back to France and start his new life with Levi. So, with a waving hand, Erwin fell into step with Nanaba and Mike, who were waiting in line to board the plane. Levi smiled his way and said:

“Au revoir, Erwin Smith.”

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