#warning her about first like my sister in christ how the fuck should i have known this was a problem for you

[frankensteinmutual]

one of my housemates is so fucking sensitive it turns me into a person I do not like

[catherinnn]

I thought of this at work today and I couldn't stop laughing: Imagine Dustin having an older sister who's back from college. So when they need a sub for Hellfire, he asks her because she's the one that taught him how to play in the first place. As soon as she walks in Eddie's brain short-circuits because "Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl?!?!? I would've at least brushed my hair!"

Que Dustin not sure whether he should be disgusted because his sister keeps flirting with his DM all night or excited because there is now a very strong possibility Eddie could become his brother-in-law now.

Roll for Initiative eddie munson x henderson!reader warnings: nothing much really, just fluff overall. eddie self-doubts for just a second, no use of y/n, cursing. a/n: thank you so much for requesting! I really hope you like it. reblogs and comments are very very appreciated. 2.2k words masterlist

“So,” Mike starts talking, Dustin takes notice of his sarcastic tone. “Who the fuck do we know that secretly plays D&D and would want to sub for Lucas”

“Um, well…” but before Dustin can get a word out Mike interrupts him.

“I mean, we’re fucked! Eddie’s gonna hate us and kick us out of Hellfire!”

“Dude-“

“No Dustin, I’m serious! I’m gonna kill Lucas and all his stupid new friends”

“Mike! Do you remember what I told you earlier? About my sister?”

“Uh… no?” he confesses.

“Honestly! Do you ever listen to me?!” Dustin claims angrily. “What I told you is that she’s coming back home. And she used to play, dude!”

“Are you serious?” Mike exclaims, unable to believe their luck. He asks “When does she get here?”

--

Dustin's heart pounds with anticipation as he waits at the doorstep. It had been months since he last saw you, and he couldn't wait to catch up.

And as your mom’s car pulls into the driveway, Dustin cannot contain his excitement. He rushes to greet you, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his haste. You step out of the car, a weary smile on your face as you spot your little brother.

"Dustin!" you exclaim, opening your arms for a hug. "You've gotten even taller since I last saw you."

“You think so?” he asks with hope.

“Oh right? He’s turning into a whole handsome tall man already!” your mom butted into the conversation and you both cringe at her choice of words.

“Ugh, I missed you!” you hug him again and he laughs.

Once you’re inside the house, Dustin wastes no time in bombarding you with stories of his D&D campaigns. He told you about the epic battles and the incredible DM the club has. You make a mental note to tease Steve as soon as you see him since he’s no longer Dustin’s coolest older friend.

“That club sounds so fun!”

"Do you think... would you want to join our club as a sub?" he asks eagerly. "We're short one person since Lucas joined the dark side”

You frown in confusion and he explains. “He’s in the football team”

“Really?” you ask surprised.

“Yeah…” he sounds disappointed. “Anyway, would you help us? Please”

“You’re sure they won’t mind?”

“They would be so thankful if you help us beat Eddie’s ass”

“Okay, sure then” you agree laughing.

--

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!” Dustin shouts from the living room waiting impatiently for you.

“I’ve been ready for like ten minutes, you’re the one who’s taking so long” you answer calmly, not knowing what all the fuss is about.

Meanwhile in the drama room in Hawking’s High…

“Alright gentlemen, are we ready to start?” Eddie says as he walks in.

“Umm no, Dustin’s not here yet” Mike stops him.

“Well, where is he?”

“He’s probably arriving any time now”

“Wheeler, we don’t have all day-“ Eddie starts complaining but the door opening abruptly interrupts him. An agitated Dustin walks in and starts apologizing, but Eddie’s not listening to him.

The club leader still frozen mid-sentence, his brain seemingly short-circuiting as he laid eyes on you, standing by the door. He stumbled over his words, his thoughts are silent but screaming at the same time. Suddenly, the room seemed smaller, the air thicker, as if a spell had been cast upon him.

However, you’re still oblivious to the effect you had over him.

“Soo, who’s this?” Gareth finally asks after waiting for Eddie to ask that question, but he was not even moving.

“Oh, this is my sister” Dustin starts introducing you. Eddie’s trance is broken when he hears your name, the prettiest name he’s ever heard. “She’ll sub for Lucas”

“She will?” Eddie asks with a hint of hope in his voice. All of the sudden hoping Lucas won’t be able to join Hellfire ever again.

The rest of the boys are waiting expectantly for Eddie to ask you all types of question until he finds an unsatisfying enough answer and he’ll decide you can’t sub. But he never does. So Gareth starts asking if you even know how to play D&D.

“Sure she does, she was the one who taught me how to play in the first place” your brother steps in.

You tell the boys your level in the game and for some reason they all seem surprised. They start murmuring among each other. But you notice how the boy on the big throne leans over to your brother to whisper something. You play dumb and walk closer to them.

"Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl? I would've at least brushed my hair!" He whispers-shouts and a smile starts forming on your face.

You’d be lying if you said he hadn’t called your attention. His big puppy eyes, all the rings on his hand. You don’t know why he says that about his hair, you thought it looked really good like that.

At any rate, you take a seat next to your brother, which just so happens to also be next to Eddie. Happy coincidence. And you start playing, Eddie sets the scene. He makes you imagine every single little detail so you feel like you’re actually there. He makes different voices for each character which makes you giggle. He even stands up, or leans over on the table, he talks to every single one of you, not forgetting about anyone. It’s mesmerizing to see him like this.

“I love how passionate you get” you comment and it makes him smile so hard.

He noticed before, every time he would change the tone in his voice to imitate a character, you’d laugh, and now he keeps changing voices just to hear it again.

“Give me the gold! He says. Or I’ll set my hungry wolves free, right this second!” Eddie acts and without failing he’s able to hear your snorts. It distracts him in the best way possible. “You have an adorable laugh” he tells you with a smirk.

This obviously makes you giggle once more, this time with a pink blush decorating your cheeks. “Thanks, it’s just- you’re cute making all the voices”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to blush and smile once more.

Dustin notices this exchange —all of the other boys did— but he can’t decipher how he feels about it. On the one hand, he feels a little jealous and uncomfortable that you two keep flirting. But on the other hand, it would be really cool to have Eddie as his brother in law.

However, the game continues and so does the places Eddie takes you all to in your minds. So much so that at one point you start getting dizzy.

“Wait, where are we again?” you ask.

“In the mountains near the lake” Gareth answers.

“Are we close to the palace?”

“No no, the palace is behind the woods” Mike explains now. They have more of an advantage than you do, they've been playing this campaign for weeks now.

“Wh- Do you have a map?” You finally ask Eddie and he nods passing it to you.

“Here’s the palace” he comes closer and signals on the map, “and here is where you are”

“Oh, okay”

“You know, if you’re still lost I can stick around to guide you” he whispers giving the closeness.

“Well, you’re the bad guy here,” you argue imagining you’re still inside the game. “How do I know you won’t try to kill me?”

“Me?” he gasps acting offended. “I would never!”

“You already killed Jeff!” you accuse him.

“Yeah, but he’s not half as pretty as you are. I’d miss you too much” he makes sure he’s whispering very close to you now, just because if Jeff heard him he’d start acting offended. Just because of that… no other reason.

“Can we keep playing now? My mom will be here in like ten minutes to pick me up” Mike complains.

Those ten minutes fly by. Before you even realize it, Mike’s mom is honking in her car to hurry him up. And so you finish for the day, starting to gather all your things.

“You know, you owe me a pencil” you tell Eddie.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” he asks playfully.

“I only borrowed it to you! I did not gift it!”

“So you’re calling me a thief? First a killer and now a thief? Glad to know you think so badly of little old me”

“I didn't just called you that!” you say in you defence and he makes confused face, signalling you to continue talking. “I also said you’re cute. You’re a really cute thief and killer”

He starts laughing. “Are you always this charming, or is it just when I'm around?"

“I could ask you the same thing”

“Oh only with you, sweetheart” he promises.

“Me too” you admit a little shyly.

“Yeah?-” he tries to keep flirting but Dustin cuts him off.

“Are you ready? Let’s go”

“Wow, since when are you so eager to leave hellfire?” Eddie notices.

“No reason” he lies, he’s still not sure if all this flirting between you two would be something good or not.

“I think he’s a little jealous his sister is taking all of Eddie’s attention” Gareth teases him.

“No, I’m not!”

“Aw Dusty bun!” Eddie joins in the teasing.

“I’m not jealous! Ask her out for all I care!” he says but regrets it as soon as it left his mouth.

“Really?” Eddie checks in but Dustin is a very proud person, he’s not one to bend. So he nods encouraging his friend.

Good thing you know him like the palm of your hand.

“Let’s go dingus, mom’s probably waiting for us”

Eddie feels this as punch right on his chest. Did he read too much into this? Were you not actually interested? Was it just some playful flirting?

As you walk out the school and into the parking lot. You open the car so your brother can get in but tell him to wait a second, and you walk over to Eddie who was about to get in his van.

“Wait! Thief!” you call him and he turns around. “I think you should, you know… ask me out”

He feels the happiness creeping back into his body. “Yeah? I should?” his playful tone back in his voice. “Would you want to go out with a thief and a murderer?”

“If he’s as cute as you are, then I’d think about it” you make him laugh again.

“How about tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up at eight” he proposes.

“I’ll be ready”

“Good”

“Yeah, good” you walk closer to him. “See you tomorrow then” and before leaving, you give him a kiss on his cheek. Hiding your need to kiss him more after seeing his flushed face. You’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow.

Dustin sees you getting in the car with the biggest smile on your face. “Did you ask him out?”

“Um, yeah… listen-“

“It’s fine, really”

“No, listen. I know that maybe it’s a little uncomfortable to think of one of your best friends going out with me. But I promise I would never do anything to hurt him and make it weird between you two-“

“I know that, and I know he wouldn’t do that either” he interrupts you. “I’m just- I’m worried that I won’t be a priority to you or to him anymore”

“Dustin, are you kidding? You could not be more wrong about that!” you argue. “Imagine this date goes well, we’ll start hanging out at home and watch movies with you, we could go out to eat all together, go to the cinema, anything! You name it!”

And the more he thinks about it that way, the more he loves that idea.

So the next day, he helps you choose your outfit, he tells you which hairstyle will look better and then hurries you up when it’s 7:50 pm and you’re still putting mascara on.

“You look fine already! Amazing even! Grab your jacket cause he’ll be here any minute now!” and as soon as he says that, he recognizes that car outside with the loud metal music, seconds later he hears the door knocking.

“I’ll get it, mom!” he yells so his mother won’t embarrass you.

“No, you won’t. I will” you stop him before he can open the door. “Go back to your comic-book. I’ll be back in a few hours”

And he waits until you get back. 

When you finally do, he’s on the couch watching TV but mutes it as soon as he hears you.

“Hey” he notices the big smile on your face is on again. He also notices your lips are a little puffy and he cringes at that thought.  

“You can go to sleep happily now, the date went amazing” you explain. “God, I think I’m love with him!” you comment as you go up to your room.

“Already?” he judges a little.

But as you promised, the three of you hang out together most of the time. And as long as he looks away when you two kiss or ignores the fact that Eddie’s spending the night in your room after you all catch a movie and order some pizza. He’s really happy that you two found each other.

[chlorinecake]

HELLO

Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!

It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc

leading you on | l.hs

♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…

loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader

♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words

a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!

Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.

Not emotionally, that is, but physically.

Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.

Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.

The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.

But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.

Who you've always loved him to be.

However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.

Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.

You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.

Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.

However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.

Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.

A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.

Off camera, things were the same.

You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.

But then... something changed.

Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.

|Messaging| 💬

Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?

You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...

Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy

You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^

You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.

"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."

"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-

"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.

"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."

You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.

"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"

"Will Heeseung be there?"

"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.

It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.

"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."

Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"

FLASHBACK

It all started with a picture.

A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.

Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK

Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.

Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩

pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻

Danielle, another fan joked.

Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔

Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.

"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.

That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."

His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.

Oh God-

"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.

pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-

Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-

Chelbear03 has left the stream

A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.

"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.

"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.

"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"

His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.

The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.

"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.

"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.

"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.

anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?

yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭

Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him

"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."

pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|

"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...

"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.

"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."

“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.

“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”

Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.

You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.

“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”

“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”

You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.

You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.

“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”

“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.

You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.

One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.

|Messaging| 💬

You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?

Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)

You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D

Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?

You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time

Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm

You: Cya ! 🐒

THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.

You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.

Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.

It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.

You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.

Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.

Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.

You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.

That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.

His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.

His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.

“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.

“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.

“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.

“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.

“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”

“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”

“What is?”

“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”

“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”

He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.

“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.

“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.

“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”

“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"

You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.

“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.

Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.

You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.

yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧

Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩

mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s

pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD

Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨

laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;

yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3

You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.

"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.

"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"

"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."

"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.

"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."

Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.

He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.

"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"

"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.

Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why

Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.

“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”

"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.

"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."

"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.

“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”

"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.

"Moving on, next question!"

anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈

Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.

It was really a bad trait of yours...

"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.

How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-

laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...

pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹

In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.

"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.

yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-

Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏

Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.

By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.

"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."

The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.

"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."

"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...

"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.

"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"

He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."

Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.

Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔

maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-

You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.

"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.

pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)

maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{

maindancertypeshit has left the stream

You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.

"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.

yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(

Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭

mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...

Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.

"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.

That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.

"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.

"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.

You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.

"Heeseung, what're you-"

He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.

There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.

"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.

You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...

You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.

laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????

mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0

Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?

yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁

The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.

A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.

"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.

"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.

What was going on with you?

"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."

"Heeseung-"

"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."

The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.

"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.

"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."

"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.

"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."

"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.

"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"

ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.

You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.

You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.

Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.

It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...

Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.

Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.

To be ruined.

"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."

He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.

"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"

"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.

"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.

"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"

You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.

Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-

"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."

He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.

"Its a few things, actually-"

"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.

"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."

"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.

"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.

Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-

"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."

"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.

"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.

"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.

You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.

"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."

You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.

He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.

That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.

You almost couldn't in a state like this.

It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.

"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.

You were having second thoughts.

"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."

Even though this was all your idea to begin with-

"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."

In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.

You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.

Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.

The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.

Almost too good, honestly…

“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.

Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.

“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"

It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.

“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.

"What're you-"

Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."

He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.

“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.

You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.

"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"

Fuck.

You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.

"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.

Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-

"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.

Well, most of the way, at least...

"____?"

"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"

"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."

Thud.

You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.

His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.

"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.

"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.

You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.

How nice he felt.

"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.

He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.

"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"

"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.

Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.

There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.

And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.

He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.

He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"

You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.

He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,

“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.

He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”

Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.

“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”

Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.

As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.

Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”

He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.

He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.

Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.

There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.

“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.

You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.

You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.

You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.

“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.

“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.

To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.

“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.

“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”

“Heeseung-”

“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”

“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.

From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.

You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.

”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.

You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”

Fin…

♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!

♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash

[obsessedasusual]

Lonely No More - Eight

Bishop Losa x OC Series

Summary: There was never a dull moment, being the only Reyes sister. But between overbearing brothers, being the family peacekeeper, and countless disaster dates, Amalia finds herself wishing she had someone to unwind with after a hectic day. Funnily enough, Bishop Losa wishes for the same thing.

Warnings: swearing, feels, everything MC related really

Note: -2k hellloooooo!!!! When I tell you I have had the first half of this written since my last bloody upload I’m not kidding🫣🫣 I won’t try to defend myself, I’ll just leave this for you to chew on byeeeeee

It had been four days since the incident, as Amalia was now calling it.

Four days and she hadn’t heard from Bishop. She hadn’t been running past his house as usual, she had however heard a Harley ride past each morning and night. It seemed Bishop wasn’t swaying from his usual route to the club, just deciding to not stop in.

No texting, no calling, no notes.

Radio silence.

She had also been avoiding her brothers, which wasn’t hard. Angel had tried to call her once which she had ignored, instead flicking a text his way saying, sorry busy with work, will call you back, she hadn’t, and he hadn’t tried again.

She even turned the other way when she almost ran into Gilly at the grocery store the day prior. Instead pushing her cart down the aisle of baby bottles and nappies. She was sure she’d successfully dodged him and he hadn’t seen her. He had, but figured she wasn’t in the mood to talk and let her be.

Her mind was stuck on that night, replaying it over and over. It was obviously a mistake. Had to have been. There was no way he had meant to kiss her.

Her friend Zoe had been let in on the secret when she came knocking, worried about her best friend’s sudden dazed mood. Well… Zoe had been let in on how she had made out with a guy and it was great, amazing, fantastic but it was bad, terrible, never should have happened. The fact that the ‘guy’ was a slightly older President of a fucking outlaw club was conveniently left out.

“You can’t be this torn up over a kiss and not give me any details!” Zoe had pouted over a cup of coffee.

Amalia paced the length of her dining table, hands on her forehead in frustration, “it’s not the kiss that’s the issue! Well, okay it’s kind of the kiss but it’s more to do with who the kiss was with!”

“Which was who?”

“I… I can’t say,” Amalia sighed, “it was just with someone it really shouldn’t have been with and now he won’t talk to me and I don’t know what this means or what happens from here. Do I just ignore it too? What if I see him around? I mean, I’m definitely gonna see him around this town is only so big-“

“So he’s a local?”

“And if my brothers ever found out Jesus Christ they would have my head on a platter. They’d kill me! They would actually kill me. They’d never speak to me again-“

“I’m sure they’d be okay with it-“

“Ha! Okay with it? You don’t know my brothers, they’d hit the roof. Angel especially, oh shit Angel-“

“Okay! A! You need to stop and take a breather, seriously. Just talk to me. We can talk it out and work out what to do.” Zoe stood from her seat, gently touching Amalia’s arm and steering her toward a chair.

“Take a breath. Okay, why is this freaking you out so much?”

Amalia looked from her friend to the ground, “I shouldn’t be involved with him.”

“Could you tell me why? If you like him and he likes you-“

“He doesn’t like me, Zo,” she interrupted, mumbling slightly, “It was just a caught in the moment sort of thing. And, even if he did. We couldn’t be involved.”

Zoe sighed, “You’ve said that, but why?”

“It’s… complicated.” The Reyes sister was right. It was complicated.

“Is he a friend of Angel’s?” If she wasn’t going to give straight answers, Zoe was going to start guessing.

Instead of answering, Amalia hesitated before nodding slowly. A friend… kind of. His boss. His President.

“You said he wouldn’t talk to you, have you tried calling him?” Zoe suggested causing Amalia to look down and shake her head.

Zoe continued, “Maybe you should? A simple phone call and this could all be fixed.”

Amalia rested her forehead against her clasped hands and sighed heavily, barely listening to her friend.

“It’ll get sorted out, A. It’ll be okay.”

Four days on, and it still had yet to be “sorted out”.

Had she tried to call him?

No.

Had he tried to call her?

Also no.

That shouldn’t have been cause for concern. Afterall, they’d had many days go by without a phone call before. But that was before. Before everything turned to shit in Amalia’s mind.

Her mind decided to torture her each night when she attempted to get a full night’s rest, teasing her with made up images of Bishop with another woman on his lap at a club party. Quite happily lapping up the attention.

She was sure that wasn’t the case, and even if it was, so what? He could do as he wanted. He was a single man. He could hook up with whoever he wanted. So why did the thought fill the brunette with so much dread?

Another sleepless night eventually led to morning and Amalia dragged herself out of bed, begrudgingly threw on an office appropriate outfit, washed her face and took a deep breath to ready herself for another day of seemingly meaningless work.

The day passed slowly. Send an email, answer a call, read an email, stare blankly at a report that was due tomorrow, wonder why James from sales insisted on hitting ‘reply all’ on an all company email for his reply of:

Thanks,

James.

Her mind numbing train of thought was gratefully interrupted by the short vibration of her phone, the contact on screen reading, Angel

Heads up if you see pop, he’s in a pissy mood.

Relevant enough to not be suspicious, but Amalia knew her brother well enough to know this was an attempt to break the wall of silence she had put between them.

Same with Ez.

Came a second text. Amalia typed out her reply.

Any particular reason?

Dunno. Come to the club later.

Amalia internally groaned. The freaking club. Why couldn’t he suggest his place like a normal brother?

Not in much of a party mood.

Chill. I meant to talk to your little brother.

Oh. Well, stopping by EZ’s trailer was out of the way of the club.. kind of. She could probably be in and out without raising the attention of the President. And if her brother needed her, that had to take priority, right?

Fine. Be there after work.

-

Amalia’s stomach was in knots as she drew closer to the club.

‘Sneak in, sneak out, you’ll be fine.’ She kept reminding herself.

If she saw Bishop she had a plan; hold her head high and carry on like the mature adult she was.

Putting her car in park, she gripped her steering wheel and drew a deep breath.

Get out of the car, she thought to herself, get out and beeline for the trailer.

She did just that.

Walking as light on her feet as she could without looking like she was guilty of something to draw as little attention as possible, she kept her head down and made her play straight for the trailer.

Chucky spotted her from the office window and waved out excitedly, she waved back, but apart from the likeable oddball, it seemed there was no one else around.

Good.

It was quiet around EZ’s trailer, as it usually is. Amalia hoped it meant he was tucked up inside minding his own business and not with the guys in the clubhouse.

“EZ!” She called as she approached the door, tapping twice, “You in here?”

She could hear a rustling coming from inside along with a muffled, “Just a sec!”

More rustling followed before finally the small door swung open to reveal the smiling younger brother.

“Hey, A. What’s up?” EZ leaned out the door but didn’t make any move to actually remove himself from his trailer, resulting in him towering over his sister - more than usual.

She gave him a little smile and shrugged, “Just hadn’t seen you around for a bit. Thought I’d check in.”

If EZ wanted to call bullshit he didn’t, instead playfully rolling his eyes, “I’m good, A. Nothing new to report here.”

Amalia knew her brother well enough to know he was lying. But she also knew she couldn’t push him too much, he was like Angel in that way.

She nodded, “Okay well… do you wanna go grab a coffee or something? I could do with a little outing.”

That wasn’t a lie, she could really do with the distraction.

She registered footsteps approaching from behind as EZ replied, “Uh, nah I’m good. Sorry just…” he shrugged, “kinda caught up with something at the moment.”

His smile was forced this time, eyes shooting between her and Angel who had just graced them with his presence. She didn’t acknowledge the oldest brother, attention still on EZ.

“You sure you’re good, EZ?”

Angel piped up, “I heard coffee. I’m down. Be good for some… sibling bonding or some shit.”

Clearly beginning to feel like he was being interrogated, the youngest Reyes pursed his lips and looked between his two siblings.

“What is this?” He started, glaring between them, “Some kind of intervention? You two gossiping about me now?”

While Amalia prepared to defend herself, Angel just shrugged and spoke first, “You’ve been acting weird lately. Pissed all the time. Same with pop. We’re just wondering what’s going on.”

“There’s nothing going on,” EZ stressed, “God you two need your own lives. Honestly, I’m good. Now if you don’t mind…” he gestured to the trailer, “I’m kinda busy right now.”

“Wait, EZ-“ Amalia was cut off by the door swinging closed, taking her younger brother with it. She turned to Angel, “What was that?”

Angel shrugged and looked at the trailer, “He’s been like that for a few days. Doesn’t say much to me.”

Since their mother’s passing, Amalia had tried really hard not to step into the ‘overbearing mother figure’ role. It wasn’t her job. And her brothers were both adults, she couldn’t expect them to tell her every detail about their lives. But in situations like this, when she could clearly see something wasn’t right, the urge to dig grew stronger.

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Angel nudged her and they began walking back to her car, Amalia noted they were absentmindedly taking the long way, close to the clubhouse.

“Do you think it’s club shit?” She questioned, clocking Angel shaking his head in her peripheral.

“Nah. Things are decent at the moment. I think it’s gotta be something to do with him and Pop.”

Amalia sighed, “And like always, we’re the last to hear about it.”

“Yup.”

While they continued their slow walk toward her car, Amalia could feel eyes on her from afar. Turning her head slightly she found her gaze locked with that of the Mayan President. Gee what a surprise.

She quickly reverted her gaze and let it drop to the ground in front of her. Angel came to a stop and leant against an old fence, Amalia following suit.

“What about you?” Angel questioned. She look at her brother confused before he continued, “Are you okay? Didn’t hear from you for a while. Not like you.”

Amalia took a deep breath and looked around the yard, catching Bishop’s eye again. Neither moved their gaze this time, locked in a staring battle that the Reyes sister was sure to lose, “I’m okay, Angel. Just had some work shit going on. Forgot what a work/life balance was for a second.”

She broke her stare with the President and turned to give her brother a small smile, “I am good, Angel. Promise.”

Liar.

Angel nodded, accepting her answer, “Good. I can’t deal with two fucked up siblings.”

She let out a snort, “Welcome to my life, ‘mano.”

He pushed her and began to walk away, calling over his shoulder, “I’m coming for food this week.”

“Only if you use your manners!” She retorted, laughing when he raised his middle finger in farewell.

Her eyes darted the yard once more, again locking with Bishop’s from the porch. Man had a real staring problem apparently.

So he can openly stare at me but can’t send a girl a text?

Again being the first to break eye contact she quickly turned and headed for her car, readying herself to once again hide away and overthink what Bishop’s staring could mean.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter Nine.

A warm, heartfelt thank you to my readers for your continued engagement :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,140

Warnings - 18+ only. Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

“And so, I says to this fella, I says, right, listen here, mate! Any more out of you and you’ll be shitting your bloody teeth for a week, and you’ll never believe what he says to me, John. I tell ya now, you’ll never believe it, son. He stands there, right, fag dangling from his mouth, and he says to me...” 

John didn’t give a damn what the fellow in question had said as they stood guarding the front gates of Bryn’s home, gladly watching the sun beginning to sink in the sky. From the first moment, he’d asked Tommy never to pair him with Mickey Two Suits, begged him, in fact, and what had his brother done?  

…"so, there we are, right, having a scrap about it and then suddenly, this fucking umbrella comes flying out of nowhere! And it’s only the fella’s old dear, ain’t it, giving him a clobbering and dragging him home by his ear! I says to our Wilf, I says ‘eh, look at that! Thinks he’s hard enough to have a go at a Blinder and it’s his mom who has to run in and save his arse!’ What a night, John. Ya should have been there!” 

“Mickey...” 

“...and we went had a good ole’ knees up after, we did. Drank the Red Lion right out of whiskey that night, and you ain’t heard the best part yet, pal!” 

“Mickey, will...” 

“So, the landlord has this great, big Irish Wolfhound, right, and this group of lads are...” 

“Two Suits! Holy fucking shit, will you shut up!” John’s exasperated tones matched his wide eyes, shaking his head. “Christ you don’t half yammer on, mate!” 

Mickey pinked at the cheeks a little to have been – although lightly – admonished by one of his bosses, muttering his apologies and lighting a cigarette. He lasted all of twenty seconds. 

“So, we off for a few Christmas Eve drinks up the pub once your lady wakes up? Christmas Eve at The Garrison, ain’t nothing like it, is there? Do you remember that one year when... bloody hell!” 

This time, though, Mickey’s no doubt lengthy spiel was interrupted by a sight that made John’s heart flutter, Bryn suddenly appearing before them. “No, Mickey. John and I are to depart for Warwickshire, to a party hosted by Tommy and the lovely Grace.”  

John had wondered how well Grace would take to Bryn, but after introducing them for the first time just three days before, he’d found the women had a very natural chemistry with one another. He was also pleased – for Tommy more than himself – that it had encouraged Polly to warm towards his soon-to-be sister-in-law a little more as well, since he and Grace were to be married in the New Year.  

His aunt was not quick to warm to any women who came into the lives of her beloved nephews, especially not if she had good reason not to trust them, just as she’d had with both Grace and Bryn. For the latter, though, it had melted as soon as she’d seen something of herself within his ancient vampire lover, a woman who’d had her children torn from her, a woman whose pain she understood all too well.  

Leaving Mickey to trudge down to the bus stop and travel back to Small Heath, John and Bryn went inside, the former pouring himself a whiskey while Bryn readied herself for the evening. She was affixing tiny little pearl adorned pins into her hair when he ventured into the bedroom, kissing her bare shoulder as she sat at her vanity.  

“I thought you lot weren’t meant have a reflection.” 

Him and that flipping novel he’d taken it upon himself to read. She rolled her eyes, turning to press her lips to his cheek. “Not everything Bram Stoker claims about us is true, you know.” Picking up her perfume, she spritzed herself liberally, the scent misting over her pale skin. “Although I must confess, being able to turn myself into a bat would be useful. If for nothing else than to retreat from awkward social situations.” 

“Yeah,” he hummed, swirling the amber contents of his glass, “don’t think I’d fancy you half as much as a flying rodent. Maybe a bit still, like, but not as much as usual.”  

Her look of incredulity had him tipping his head back, his laughter filling the room. “You are disgusting, John Shelby!” 

“Still laughing though, ain’t ya!” Indeed, she was. His uncouthness, lack of filter and penchant for being completely inappropriate never ceased to entertain her. Truly, she had never met anybody like her darling John. She shook her head, picking up her kohl pencil and beginning to smoke her eyes sultry black. A little mascara and a twist of rouge to her cheeks and she was finished, speedily packing the rest of what she needed for their stay at Arrow House and whizzing down to the car to place her cases in, John going to ready Katie.  

The child had been spending more time with him at Bryn’s since school had finished for Christmas, being cared for during the day by Bettie until Bryn awoke and spent time with her before bed. It had warmed his heart hugely to witness their bond forming, Katie furnishing the Christmas tree with her help, overhearing the bedtime stories his love would recite to her, the old Norse sagas his daughter loved to hear. Katie’s bedtime upon their arrival at Tommy’s house was no different. 

“The crow went flying toward the North, croaking as she flew, “Let Hela keep what she holds. Let Hela keep what she holds.” That crow was the hag Thaukt transformed, and the hag Thaukt was Loki. 

“He flew to the north and came into the wastes of Jötunheim. As a crow he lived there, hiding himself from the wrath of the Gods. He told the giants that the time had come for them to build the ship Naglfar, the ship that was to be built out of the nails of dead men, and that was to sail to Asgard on the day of Ragnarök with the giant Hrymer steering it...” 

Standing in silent watch through the crack in the door, John smiled widely as Bryn recited a fairytale about Loki, Norse god of mischief to his spellbound daughter, the covers pulled up to her chin, Bryn’s hands gesturing as she spoke of the tale. At her core, she was such a natural mother, something within her so strongly maternal. The thought had never crossed his mind back when he’d first begun his courtship with her, but truly, she was everything Katie needed. 

She was everything he needed, too.  

“Now that’s a look of love if ever I saw one.” 

At hearing Polly’s whisper, he turned, grin still fixed firmly in place as his cheeks coloured a little bit at being caught staring so adoringly at the scene. “She’s only known her just under three weeks and she dotes on that little girl as if she were her own.” Walking away from the bedroom, he pulled a cigarette out, lighting up. “Ain’t what you thought she was, is she?”  

Polly lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing a fraction. “I don’t like to concede, but you’re right. She isn’t. Brynhild has surprised me with her nature. I never forget what she is, but I’m getting to know that what she is isn’t all she is.” Reaching for his face, she stroked his cheek, laying a pecked kiss upon the other. “I’m pleased for you, love. You look very happy.”  

He smiled again, his handsome features lighting up the dim glow coming from the bedroom. “I am, Pol. Might not have been long, but I am.”  

“Come on.” Opening her arm, she draped it around his shoulders, steering him down the corridor in the direction of the stairs. “Let’s go get drunk and eat too much food, have a good ole’ knees up.”  

Walking down into the throng of people milling around the welcome hall, the mix of guests were mostly business, both legitimate and not so, family and friends, servers carrying trays of drinks and food, the laughter and chatter filling the spruce-scented air. John was just reaching for a whiskey when he felt a cool hand slip into his, Bryn arriving with him, taking a champagne flute from a passing member of the wait staff.  

“How does it feel?” 

“How does what feel, my darling?” she asked, pressing herself close to him as he released her hand, wrapping an arm around her instead. 

“To be the most beautiful woman in the room?”  

She sipped her champagne, eyeing him with a twinkle there in the hypnotic blue of her irises. “Oh, you presume yourself to be so very charming!” 

His smirk widened. “Are you charmed?” 

“I am,” she hummed. 

“Then I’m fucking charming.” He kissed her head, his arm tightening around her. “Tell me about what underwear you’ve got on under that dress.” 

“You know my thoughts towards underwear, my love,” she purred, kissing his cheek as they moved through the guests. “I don’t like anything that gets in the way of your mouth.”  

A bolt shot through him, John closing his eyes for a moment. Opening them, he pulled himself back from the haze of lust to be greeted by an oncoming business associate, fellow bookmaker Kenneth Thompson.  

“John! Good evening to you and your fine lady, here! How are you keeping?”  

While he and her love got into conversation about the next race meets of the New Year, Bryn found herself beckoned over by Grace and Polly, gliding over through the throng of guests. It was as a young server passed her by that she caught the faintest whiff of it, a smell her nose never failed to detect. Her eyes snapped to the back of the redheaded girl’s neatly pinned tresses, watching her move from guest to guest.  

“You’re on alert,” Polly noted when she arrived with them, seeing how Bryn suddenly appeared much less casual in demeanour. “What is it?” Although not knowing her for long, she’d familiarised herself with how the vampire carried herself, the minute changes within her normally quite stoic disposition. Polly Gray well understood when it paid to be observant.  

“That girl,” Bryn began, pointing with her champagne flute. “Grace, how new is she within your employment? Also, is she local?” 

“Very new,” she confirmed, her eyes following the cold, hard stare of her vampire friend’s eyes. “Everybody is, though. With us only officially moving in recently, the staff were hired just over a week ago. As for where she’s from, Tyneside according to her references. Why do you ask?”  

“Thought I recognised her locally. I must be mistaken.” she lied, giving Polly a look that she read instantly. Tommy hadn’t filled in Grace over everything regarding Bryn, other than to obviously keep what she was well under her hat. Initially, she hadn’t believed him at all, laughing away under the impression that he was having her on upon their first meet. When Bryn had proved it by popping her fangs, she’d almost fallen out of her chair. 

With Grace called away to continue playing gracious hostess, Polly moved Bryn into the corner of the room away from earshot of the other partygoers. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“That girl,” she began, her eyes flitting away to follow her before they snapped back to Polly. “She does not bathe often, for not only do I detect a fine scent of body odour, but I also smell Rasmussen on her. It is faint, but present.”  

“You’re fucking joking me,” she hissed, eyes scanning the room. “I’ll get John and Tommy, let’s get this sorted.” 

Immediately, Bryn gripped her arm. “No, no, Polly. We need not involve the men just yet. Let me watch her. Act as you normally would, begin to laugh at everything I’m saying.” 

Polly’s faux, yet believable chuckle filled the air, Bryn affixing a huge smile to her face before launching into a real story, all the while watching the girl as she flitted from guest to guest. For all intents and purposes, they were having a wonderful Christmas Eve, with no suspicions over any infiltration to their circle.  

Every so often, the serving girl’s eyes would find Bryn, studying her in confirmation of this, the vampire feeling her entire being hum on high alert. As soon as she exited the welcome hall, Bryn moved to follow her, ducking speedily into the shadows as she stalked her, the girl looking as if she was heading back down to the kitchen.  

There was a pantry just to the side of the grand kitchen, a designated space where the butler would keep track of the household provisions at a small desk and put in the orders at the grocery, baker and butcher on a twice-weekly basis, Bryn remaining concealed from sight as the girl quietly made her way inside. She was just about to enter after her when John and Polly appeared.  

“Oi, don’t you look at me like that, Brynhild,” Polly whispered sternly, noting the displeasure she was viewed with. “Wasn’t me who said anything.”  

“She’s right, love” John spoke, touching a hand to her shoulder. “It was me who felt it.” 

Of course, he would. John Shelby had so much of her blood travelling through his veins at that point, he might as well have called himself Brynhild Mark Two. Holding a finger to her lips, Bryn listened, hearing the serving girl make her request to the telephone exchange. Rasmussen.  

Bingo.  

“Mr Rasmussen, I hope I am not disturbing you.”  

Before John or Polly knew it, Bryn was gone from before them, the butler’s pantry door flung open, both striding in to find the telephone cable pulled from the socket and a snarling Bryn pressing the girl down onto the desk by her throat.  

“How much did he pay you to infiltrate?” she growled, her fangs bared, the girl shaking in fright as she found herself at the very wrong end of a powerful vampire’s temper.  

“I-I d-d-don't know w-what you...” 

“Oh, bloody spare us!” Polly exclaimed, closing the door behind them. “You can’t fool a nose like hers. She smelled them on you.”  

“B-but I-I...” 

Bryn’s gripped tightened. “I said, how much, child?”  

“T-ten p-pounds.” 

A lot of money for a girl who she estimated likely earned less than a third of that a week. “I will pay you treble that to call him back right now and tell him that I am not among the Shelby family. For I know that is why you are here. As my friend just stated, I can smell them on you.” She shook her head, her nose crinkling. “Poor, unfortunate girl. Perhaps if you bathed more often, you might have been successful.”  

Nodding through her shakes, she felt on the verge of wetting her knickers in fear, watching the vampire as she looked to her companions. “Darling, plug the telephone back in.”  

John nodded, eyeing the girl with distaste, Bryn going into her small clutch bag and pulling out three ten-pound notes. “Here. I will pay you this to deliver the message. That is all you have to do. Do you understand?”  

“I-I do.” 

Bryn beamed, but her smile carried not a trace of warmth to it. “Good.”  

With the phone reconnected, the girl tucked her money into her neat little apron, taking the receiver and once again requesting the correct name to the exchange.  

“Helen, we were cut off before. Now, what do you have for us, pet?” Edward asked upon answering, the girl not able to drag her eyes away from Bryn, shaking with fright at the faint sound of her rumbling warning growl.  

“I’m afraid I have nothing.” She swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. “The woman you described is not within the guests. Just about everybody else notable is, but not any women with dark hair and a tattooed throat and chest, I’m afraid, sir.”  

“Stick around, she mightn't have arrived yet. Like we said, it might be another. Sounds daft, love, but look out for people who are paler than usual, and who don’t eat or drink with quite the same gusto as others do, like.” 

“Shall do, sir. I will report back tomorrow evening.” With that, the call ended, Helen finding herself on the receiving end of three very angry looking people. Well, only two were people. “What do I tell him tomorrow?” 

“As long as it doesn’t involve anything to do with vampires being around the family, tell him whatever the fuck you like,” John spoke, moving to impose himself before her, reaching into his pocket to pull out his knife. “And if you do fucking breathe a word about her to anyone, we will find out, and bab, you don’t want to know what I’ll fucking do to ya. We clear?” 

With a cold blade pressed against her cheek and the even colder glare of a vampire upon her, Helen nodded. “I shan’t say anything. I’ll just tell him there wasn’t any here. I promise, just please don’t hurt me.”  

Returning the knife to his pocket, he patted her cheek with his hand. “Good girl. Now, go up and pack your bags. Now.” 

“No.” Halting her with a splayed hand to her chest, Bryn stood in her path, shaking her head as she looked to John. “We must ensure she makes that call, John. If she doesn’t, then they will deduce that I am here and have dealt with her.” 

She was right. “What do you plan on doing to her?” 

Bryn pondered his statement for all of five seconds. “Fetch me some rope. We tie her to a chair in here and tell no one to enter. Then we come down here again at sundown tomorrow, let her make her call and escort her from the premises.” 

“And what the fuck are we meant to tell the serving staff, why they can’t come in here all of a sudden?” he asked, perplexed.  

Shaking her head in bafflement, a frown of light incredulity creased her forehead. “Darling, you run both legitimate and cooked books for a living; you’re better at mathematics than most of the fucking Arabs who created it. You’re also a goddamned Shelby, lying is in your nature. Do not tell me such mental calculus is beyond you.” Her eyebrows continued to rise, gesticulating wildly with her free hand. “Bloody make something up!”  

Polly couldn’t keep the smile from her face at how Bryn had both managed to praise and admonish him at the exact same time, especially watching John not know whether to be annoyed or enamoured by the crisply delivered statement from his lady. 

“I ain’t sure if I want to fuck you or slap you right now.”  

“I’ll let you do both later,” she winked, nodding towards the door. “Rope. Now.” As soon as he left the pantry, Polly was in soft fits.  

“Oh, my giddy aunt!” she snorted, lighting herself a cigarette while Bryn pushed a still terrified, but complacent Helen down into the wooden chair behind the desk. “Seeing you run circles around my bloody nephew like that is the only Christmas present I’ll need this year.”  

Bryn smirked, taking Helen’s hand and popping her fangs, forcing the young woman’s finger to her mouth and piercing the tip upon the point of one of those long, sharp teeth. Helen winced, Bryn licking the drop of blood that swelled forth. “There is my insurance, should stupidity and luck be on your side and mean you somehow escape. I will be able to find my way to you instantly.” 

With the way John bound her legs and arms to the chair upon his return, though, Bryn sorely doubted that Helen would be going anywhere, but took the phone with them just in case. “Please tell me that one day you shall delight my senses by tying me to the bed like that.”  

He paused upon the staircase, raising an eyebrow. “You could get out of it in about half a second, though.” 

“I could,” she purred, leaning close to flick her tongue against his earlobe, giving it a little nibble. “I wouldn’t attempt to, though.” 

“You,” he began, waving a finger at her, “you need to pack it in, you do. We’ve got to go fill Tommy in over all of this and you’ve bloody gone and gotten me at half-mast as it fucking is.” He nodded downwards, Bryn seeing the outline of his cock beginning to tent his trousers, chuckling as she grinned.  

“Well, my, my.” Leaning close, she kissed him, her lips all fiery honey upon his. “It looks like something is looking up this evening after all.”  

Carrying on up the stairs, she left him standing there waiting to deflate again, shaking his head as he muttered. “Bloody insufferable temptress.”  

“I heard that.” 

“You were fucking meant to, bab!” he shouted, making the server passing him jump, John placing a reassuring hand to his shoulder as he grinned widely, the man continuing his trajectory. “God, I love that woman.” 

As she stepped back into the throng of the party, Bryn heard that, too. She would never tire of it either, slipping her hand into his when he joined her after a few moments, fully calmed in the trouser department as they walked over to where Polly waited for them, opening the door to Tommy’s office.  

“Grace specifically told me no business tonight, so whatever this is, make it quick,” he spoke, taking a seat behind his desk, looking up to see Arthur enter the room, neatly closing the door behind him and shutting out the noise from the party.  

“Do not worry, Tommy. I have every intention of being perfectly concise so we may resume this wonderful evening you and Grace have put together for us,” Bryn began, Tommy nodding in acknowledgement of her praise, his eyes fixing upon her. “A spy sent by Edward Rasmussen infiltrated your serving staff. It was only because the dirty girl does not bathe quite as often as one should that I managed to smell their scent upon her, knew she had been close to them. 

“She was sent here to look for me specifically. I apprehended her with John and Polly prior to her delivering news to Edward himself, intercepted the phone call she was shortly to make, forcing her to tell him all was clear. He expects her to call in again tomorrow to confirm that no vampire fitting my image, or any other for that matter arrived here at Arrow House.” 

Arthur leaned around Polly, nodding to her. “You alright though, love? She ain’t burned you with no silver or nothing, has she?” 

Bryn was touched by his concern. “I am fine, dear Arthur. Trust and believe if she had of attempted to wound me, your brother would have likely acted swiftly.” 

“Wouldn’t fucking half have,” John muttered, pulling a cigar from his pocket and lighting up.  

Tommy digested her words, drawing idly upon his cigarette. “Which serving girl was it?” 

“Helen.” 

“And where is Helen now?” 

“Tied up in the butler’s pantry.” 

He rose to his feet. “Good enough, Brynhild.” Walking around the desk, he placed a hand to John’s shoulder as he passed. “Fits into our world just nicely does your lady, John boy. We’ll deal with this tomorrow.” Opening his door, he gestured through the space, the noise of the merriment filling the air as his family filed back out. Bryn was the last to leave, Tommy halting her with a soft hand to her forearm.  

“I’ll leave it to your discretion, whether Helen actually leaves the grounds or not tomorrow,” he whispered, his stare so strong Bryn felt it boring into the back of her skull. “Either way, though, she is to be gone and kept quiet.” 

Bryn would not have survived for as long as she had, should she not have known well how to read between the lines. Smiling, she leaned to kiss Tommy’s cheek, gliding from the room to take another glass of champagne and slide in at her love’s side once more, the head of the family watching her as he closed the heavy office door behind him.  

In offering his protection to Bryn, he saw well how the alliance benefitted him from her being close to them. Literally being able to smell the faint trace of an enemy upon a person was a skill he wished he possessed, but did not need to now that he had the most powerful vampire in England close with his family.  

Tommy Shelby knew a valuable asset when he saw one. The fact that she made his younger brother the happiest looking man in the room didn’t hurt either.  

[miracles-and-butterflies]

For @jacarandaaaas, based on the premise of “madrigal grandkids having a sleepover.”

Post rebuild, the girls plus Camilo have a sleepover. I have no other words to describe that than chaos ensues.

The Madrigal Sleepover

“—And that is how I told Bubo Marquez to go fuck himself.”

“Oh, you’ve finally gotten back to the point of this story?” Luisa asked, only half-joking because it had definitely taken a good ten minutes to reach the conclusion. Isabela rolled her eyes at her.

“I still can’t believe people think you like men,” Dolores muttered.

“I’m just so proud that I have such an amazing cousin who can kick ass!” Camilo exclaimed. “Seriously, where were you when I was getting bullied in school for being weird? I could have gotten out of so many fights, if I had the ‘my older cousin will beat you up’ excuse! Because frankly the sister one didn’t really work out.”

His sister rolled her eyes, “That is an exaggeration you weren’t bullied in school. Or at the very least, not anything comparable to a man trying to kiss you against your will.”

“No, I guess I can’t relate to that…” Camilo admitted. He looked a bit wishful at the concept of a boy kissing him - he was gladly awaiting his first kiss still. It made Isabela and Luisa gag. “Well, neither can the rest of my cousins. No man would try it with Luisa. And Mirabel…”

He trailed off, all eyes falling to the girl in question. Mirabel was curled up against Luisa, definitely not far from falling asleep. The only movement being the slow rise and fall of her chest. Isabela clambered over Dolores and flashed a torch briefly over her. Briefly because Luisa immediately shoved her older sister into Dolores to shield Mirabel from the attack.

“Christ, Luisa, Mirabel’s fine,” Dolores muttered, pushing Isabela off her and trying to preserve her glass. Isabela fell straight off the bed to the floor, cackling to herself.

Mirabel yawned, eyelashes fluttering, “Is it bedtime yet?”

“Nope,” Isabela grinned, head poking up. “It’s only just turned ten. Come on, you old, little lady, you can’t be tired already. We’ve barely done anything yet. And you missed my great story, I’m gonna have to tell it again.”

“Is this still the one about you threatening to chop a man’s private parts off and feed them to your carnivorous plants?”

“Damnit, you heard? That sucks!”

“Well, I’m not asleep… yet.”

Luisa sat Mirabel further up, tapping her arm gently to further wake her up. “Well, Bela’s right. We haven’t done much yet. You can do a little longer and then we’ll let you go to bed.”

“I physically don’t think I can.” Mirabel said. She was ignored though.

“So, what should we do now?” Camilo asked, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think we should—”

“I swear to God, if you say the ‘switch the alcohol out for water prank’ again,” Dolores warned.

“No, hermana! I would never!” He mocked offence at the accusation. He lifted the yellow blanket beside him to reveal a collection of makeup palettes, lipsticks and several hair accessories. “Makeovers! A staple of all the best sleepovers!”

Dolores and Luisa peered over. The former looked more hesitant, while the latter looked fairly intrigued and even excited by the idea. Mirabel raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the messily kept containers or just the makeup in general - Camilo wasn’t sure, but he knew his cousin wasn’t the biggest fan in “covering her face in chemicals” as she would say.

Isabela, on the other hand, swatted him hard and he spluttered out petals, “Bitch, when did you steal my shit!?”

“Who said anything about stealing? I’m just borrowing it.”

“No, I’m with Isabela,” Dolores piped up. “I didn’t hear you ask her.”

“Okay, okay, I shoulda asked first!” Camilo held his hands up in surrender. “But… can we do makeovers? Please?! Dolores?” Then smirking, “I bet I could make Mariano propose to you.”

Dolores glared at him. “Isabela, be a dear and slap him for me.”

“Gladly!” Isabela did as instructed, making Camilo hit her back. Vines abruptly yanked him off the bed in response.

“Well, I think it’s a good idea,” Luisa offered. “I wouldn’t mind someone doing my makeup. Bela? You want a go?”

“Oh no, if we’re doing this, I wanna do Dolores.” Isabela insisted, already grabbing her cousin’s hand to prevent her from running off.

“Hey, she’s my sister!” Cried Camilo as he dragged himself back onto the bed.

“So? I called dibs first. And I’m the eldest.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Fuck yeah, it is! Maybe next time don’t steal and you’ll get to have things your way.”

“Yeah, but—”

Dolores groaned a little. “For God’s sake, you can do it together. Just stop arguing.”

Camilo and Isabela relented, seemingly coming to an agreement that they could work on Dolores together and immediately began discussing ideas. That had Dolores backpedaling and trying to argue that they use one of them instead.

Luisa only chuckled, pulling Mirabel closer. “I guess it’s you and me, hermanita.”

“Oh,” Mirabel said. “You wouldn’t want me to do that. I don’t know much anything present beauty trends. I barely know what half of this stuff is.”

“I’m sure you can come up with something.”

Now… if you were to walk by at any point over the next hour, you would be understandably confused with what was going on.

Dolores was constantly complaining and crying out, claiming she had been poked in the eye or her hair was being pulled too tightly. There were several points where the others genuinely stopped to ask if she was alright. She was. Just being dramatic as Camilo and Isabela assaulted her with products. Somewhere along the way, they had both given up on trying to work together to do a good job and were now just trying to make Dolores look as silly as humanly possible. Not that she would know; she was kept well away from a mirror.

Meanwhile, Luisa had happily sunk into the part of an exaggerated and comedic Marie Antoinette that she was unofficially given to play. Mirabel, having woken up a little more, had decided to make Luisa look like the ideal fashions worn by French aristocrats at Versailles, during Louis XVI’s reign. Isabela (after giving up with her cousins) even provided some dye from her plants that could whiten Luisa’s hair, which had been teased high and decorated with ribbons and beads. In contrast to Dolores, Luisa was clearly enjoying herself and greatly liked teasing the others - even if Mirabel kept pointing out the inaccuracies of her acting.

“You look ridiculous,” Dolores commented.

Luisa gasped in horror. “Guards, behead that filthy peasant immediately!” She cried out in her best attempt at a French accent, pointing a finger accusingly. “It will probably be an improvement.”

“No, seriously, prima, you look like someone from the 1880s.” Camilo said.

“1780s,” Mirabel corrected.

“Does it matter? Ain’t it the same thing? Boring, old shit that’s all history is.”

Mirabel didn’t say anything for a moment. The other three wished in silence. “You did not say that to me,” she muttered. “In fact, stop talking to me. You and your incompetence is giving me a headache.”

“Just say ‘fuck off’, sis.” Isabela begged.

“Why don’t we play a board game?” Dolores suggested. “I’ll go get one—”

“No, I want to play Charades. And as the queen of France, I should get to pick.” Luisa beamed, smug as anything.

“Right, fine.” Dolores huffed. She pulled herself to her feet. “You all play a few rounds of Charades. I’ll go clean my face and then come back with a couple of boardgames.”

Mirabel quickly followed, “I’m coming with. To get medicine; I can’t deal with a headache all evening.”

Neither of the pair knew what to say when they returned a good half hour later to find Camilo had been banished to a corner of the room and held there in Isabela’s vines, meanwhile Isabela and Luisa (who was now without her makeover) were covered in plant dye and play-fighting. It seems like Isabela had gotten ahold of some scissors as some point because Luisa was missing more than half her hair. Multicoloured clumps of hair scattered about the room.

“What the actual fuck?” Dolores muttered.

“She started it!”

“She said I could cut it!”

“I thought you were all going to play Charades?” Mirabel inquired. She was quick to push by Dolores and play mediator, trying to convince her sisters to separate. “In hindsight, why did we both leave?”

“Because these three are impossible,” Dolores replied, rolling her eyes. “What exactly did you do?”

Camilo huffed in offence, “I didn’t do anything! I swear! Isabela just moved me here for no reason! Please, hermana! Help me?”

“We were both teasing Bela about how she doesn’t get as many ladies as I do.” Luisa explained. “Then I gave her permission to cut my hair because why not? It’s hair, it’ll grow back. And, well, I think we just got carried away… whoops.”

“Whoops?” Mirabel echoed, unimpressed. Then sighed heavily. “Oh, I’m too young and too tired to deal with this,” she mumbled, settling back into the pile of pillows. “I’ll just have Mama chastise you for it tomorrow morning.”

Isabel shrugged, “Guess us three will be sleeping in then.”

“I refuse to believe that the two of us are somehow related to you three.” Dolores continued. With several more glares at Isabela, her cousin finally relented and released Camilo. The pair joining Mirabel on the floor. Luisa and Isabela slowly made their way over, with Isabela going to finish the haircut. Because apparently if Luisa was going short, she was going all the way.

They went on to play Charades and then a few rounds of card games, though Dolores begrudgingly did so and then tried to claim that she wasn’t enjoying it. Mirabel fell asleep within three minutes of sitting down, so Luisa had taken her back to her own room - to prevent Camilo and Isabela from using her as the victim of some prank. Speaking of, Isabela, Luisa and Camilo only seemed to get more hyper, but that was balanced out by Dolores also getting a little more giddy herself. They then moved on to playing a quick round of Truth or Dare. That was ended by Luisa, who felt that Isabela’s dares were “death sentences” and Dolores’ truths were “too cruel and personal”. Camilo had just enjoyed the drama of the girls, snacking on cocadas.

That had transitioned into a game of Who’s Most Likely To? With very predictable results, but the four of them were enjoying themselves.

“Most likely to get a tattoo?” Camilo asked.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Isabela, who grinned. “That’s fair. Who’s most likely to get caught robbing a bank?”

“Without our gifts? Any of you three.” Dolores answered. “I’m much too clever. Who’s most likely to get hungover and continue a day of work following, without raising suspicion?”

“What a scandalous question for you, Lola!” Isabela teased, hitting her arm playfully. “What would Mariano think of you?”

“I’m the most likely to continue working,” Luisa chuckled, unashamedly. “Can’t say I wouldn’t be caught though. Isabela’s the one with the highest alcohol tolerance, but we’ve yet to see Camilo fully drink, so who knows?”

Isabela shook her head. “No, no. I think it would be you, sis.”

“I’m with Bela,” Camilo piped up. “You’d show up, tough it out and then collapse the second you got back to Casita.” He stood up, dropping down into Mirabel’s form and leaning over to Luisa, “And then I’ll say ‘I told you so’.” Then, shifting into his sister, “‘Because we are always right.’”

The four of them - yes, including Dolores - burst into laughter, so much so that Isabela worried that they might wake the adults, instantly flicking a flower into each of their mouths to shut them up.

When only Mirabel and Antonio showed up for breakfast the following morning, Julieta and Pepa had gone to hunt down their missing children. They found them all huddled, fast asleep, in Luisa’s room in a mass pile of blankets and pillows and a fairly large mess. The two smiled together as they watched from the doorway.

“They are just like we were,” Pepa said.

“Yes, they are exactly like…” Julieta trailed off, pausing. Her eyes widened. “Is that Luisa’s hair?”

Pepa cackled, pulling her sister away and shutting the door. It would be better to let the kids sleep in. “Don’t act so surprised, Juli. You remember the time we shaved Bruno’s head bald?”

[thebetawolfgirl]

Bonding Time pt6

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: Shower Smut. Mean Timmy and reader.

A/N: This one took a while to write because I didn’t know how to continue the story!

Bonding Time pt6

Timothée woke up tangled with y/n in the sheets when he heard someone’s phone buzzing like a wasp, he groaned sitting up and throwing the offending device in the bedside table before slamming the drawer shut and laying back down snuggling into y/n.

Turns out it was y/n’s phone buzzing because then the door started going, someone banging on it to be specifically, Timmy grumbled burying his head into her neck.

‘Just ignore them, they’ll go away.’

‘They’re going to break my door down if I don’t answer.’

Timmy looked at his watch to see it was six am ‘It’s fucking six am on a Saturday, y/n. Tell them to come back at ten like a normal human being.’

‘It’s Sarah.’ Y/n looked at her camera.

‘I take back what I said, she’s not normal at all. Who the fuck comes to someone’s home at six am?’

‘Sarah does. She’s always awake at five.’ Timmy groans burying his face in the pillow as Sarah banged on the door again, y/n grabbed her phone and turned the speaker on on the camera ‘Sarah you bang my front door like that again I’ll break every knuckle in your hand!’

She tossed her phone ignoring Sarah’s protests and hopped on the bed and kissed Timmy on the lips before breaking away ‘If you hear her hide in the bathroom.’ He smirked ‘Maybe I should answer the door.’ She looked at him smirking back ‘Definitely do that next time. Maybe with Emma, or my mother.’

Y/n threw a T-shirt on and walked out hearing Timmy call out ‘That’s my T-shirt woman.’

She smirked walking towards the door to answer it and wrenched it open. ‘What, do you want at six in the morning that couldn’t wait until later?’

‘I saw you and Timothée last night, after the party.’ Sarah blurted out.

Y/n just looked at her before turning away walking to the kitchen ‘So you were following us? That’s creepy Sarah, like really creepy.’

‘I only did it because I was worried.’

‘No, this isn’t concern, Sarah. This is some weird… I don’t even know what to call it.’

‘I was concerned about my friend walking home with some asshole-‘

‘He’s an assole because he rejected you.’ Y/n pointed her spoon at Sarah. ‘Whereas before, he walked on water.’

‘This isn’t about me, this is about you sleeping with your BROTHER.’

‘STEP brother! Jesus Christ, how many times do we need to say that.’ Timmy comes in wearing just his dress jeans and bare feet rubbing his eyes tiredly as Sarah looked on in shock.

‘What are you doing here?’

She asked annoyed and shocked as Timmy walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup.

‘You followed us home? What is actually wrong with you?’ He gave her an odd look while drinking his coffee.

Y/n walked over to him and placed a kiss on his cheek as he stared Sarah down.

‘You need to get a life of your own instead of forcing yourself into everyone else’s.’

‘I’m looking out for my friend!’

‘Really??’ He cut through her. ‘Stacey’s your friend, and you’ve just found out the guy she’s been seeing is FUCKING his step sister. So you can’t be that good of a friend.’

‘I didn’t know about any of this until-‘

‘Until last night?’ His eyes flashed as he challenged her. ‘Who was the first person you called after you saw us?’

Y/n looked between them with a blank look on her face watching this fun little back and forth.

‘Certainly not Stacey, because I’ve had no calls from her. And she would’ve called me or showed up here last night. But she didn’t.’

‘You told Emma didn’t you?’ Y/n looked over at Sarah and shook her head.

‘You really shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not natural-‘

‘How you act as if you have a day in everyone’s lives and your need to control everyone around you isn’t natural.’ Timmy cut her off again glaring.

Y/n turned his head and kissed him to calm him. He kissed back and saw Sarah make a disgusted face ‘You don’t like what you see Sarah you know where the fucking door is.’ It was y/n that said it and Timmy smirked kissing her and lifting her up to sit on the kitchen counter and stood between her legs as Sarah stormed out slamming the door behind her.

Y/n chuckled as Timmy kissed down her neck while running his hand up her thighs. ‘Timmy.’ She let her head fall back giving him more access as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom and towards the bathroom. He set her down and removed the T-shirt as he removed his jeans and followed her into the shower turning on the water. They stood under the spray of water together as he stood behind her and began kissing her shoulder.

She let her head fall back as he placed open mouth kissed against her throat running his hands up her side, he took her hands and pressed them against the wall in front of her and pinned them with one hand as he slid into her hearing her gasp and turned her head to kiss her as he began thrusting into her.

She panted against his mouth kissing him back hungrily pushing her hips back against his meeting his thrusts making him bite her lips.

He thrust harder, letting go of her hands to hold onto her waist to slam harder into her as she braced herself against the glass to steady herself. She let her head fall back against his shoulder panting heavily as he wrapped his arm around her waist and nearly lifted her off the floor ramming into her making her gasp and grip his hair pulling him for a kiss as they came together shaking and panting.

They finished washing each other and stepped out of the shower drying off in the bedroom when y/n got a notification on her phone.

‘Oh great. It’s Emma, she wants to talk.’

‘Just ignore it. Or leave it on read. Let’s just spend the day in bed, preferably at my place cause at least we won’t be disturbed there.’

Y/n nodded still looking at her phone ‘That BITCH!’ She exploded.

Timmy looked over at her and joined at the end of the bed looking over her shoulder to see that Sarah had told her mother.

‘She told my mother she’s worried about me and that everyone should get together and stage an emergency intervention for me. My mom is messaging me asking if I’m okay!’

Timmy clenched his jaw and got up getting dressed ‘That’s it, get dressed and pack some stuff.’

‘Where are we going?’ She asked getting up.

‘Going somewhere that fucking psychopath can’t find us. Pack your suitcase, we’re going out of town for a week.’

‘Oooh our first vacation together as a couple.’ She smiled kneeling on the bed in front of him and kissed him. He kissed back deepening the kiss and smirked ‘You bet!’

They stopped at his so he could pack his own suitcase as y/n called her mother assuring her she was fine. She decided to play the same game as Sarah and made a phone call.

‘Hi Mrs Winston, it’s y/n y/l/n. How are you doing? I’m good thank you so much. Yes my mom is doing well, still in the honeymoon phase.’

‘Um, Mrs Winston, I was calling to ask if you had spoken to Sarah recently? Oh no, it’s probably nothing. It’s just she came banging on my door at six this morning behaving very… unlike herself. I was just wondering if she had spoken to you or even Hailey? I asked if she was ok, but she just said she had to go and just stormed out of my house without any explanation.’

…..

‘Uh-huh…. Like I said it’s probably nothing. But, I’m going away for the week and I was just wondering you could maybe check in on her from time to time? As I said I’ve never seen her behave like this in a really long time.’

Y/n looked up listening to Mrs Winston tell her how her daughter had been very excited about Chloe’s engagement and saw Timmy smirking from the doorway watching her.

‘Okay thank you so much, Mrs Winston. Give my best to Mr Winston won’t you? I will, I’ll try and enjoy my weekend break. Okay bye Mrs Winston.’

She hung up and looked at Timmy smirking ‘You, are pure evil.’

Y/n rolled her eyes and dropped her phone into her bag ‘She did the same thing to me. At least now we won’t have any hassle from her. I also messaged my mother asking her to check up on Sarah if she has the time because I’m really worried about her.’ She responded making a pretend sad face.

Timmy smirked shaking his head before pulling her in for a rough kiss which she returned.

‘You’re an evil bitch.’

‘I blame you.’

He gasps in mock offence grabbing his chest as they left the building with their cases. ‘Are you saying I corrupted your innocent little heart?’

‘Oh we both know I was never innocent.’

They got in y/n’s car and drove to the coast to the beach where Timmy had a large beach house with a beautiful view of the beach where they would have a full weekend together with no distractions.

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

[gnrbitch]

Grunge Days Pt.2- CrossRoads

Warnings: Profanity, smoking.

If you haven’t read book one, click here

————

1990

“I don’t think i should go dude” Slash nervously said to Duff.

Duff had pulled the “guns n roses” card on the ticket manager earlier that day… before everyone bailed on him, so now here he stood in Slash’s house, asking him to come along with him.

“Y’know you weren’t my first choice Slash” Duff said, “But everyone else bailed on me! So now you have to come”

“Thanks for making me feel so welcomed” Slash mumbled to himself. “What if it’s awkward?” He asked

“Well of course it’s gonna be awkward!” Duff said “But it’s better to get it over with now”

Shit, Slash thought, he’s right. “Okay fine I’ll go, what time does it start?”

Duff checked the time on Slash’s wall, “In like 6 minutes”

“Jesus fucken christ, let’s go” Slash said as he got up from his couch, Duff stumbling behind him as he was already drunk.

They made it to the Troubadour right as the band went on stage, hearing a male voice speaking through the microphone.

A woman’s (Who they later figured out was AIC’s manager) eyes widened as she saw the pair in the backstage area (they had gone through the back door).

She quickly made her way to them, grabbing Duff by the arm, “Y/ns brother right?” She said

“Yup, that’s me” He drunkly smiled as Slash just awkwardly stood there.

“Okay you need to come with me” She said motioning the two men to follow her.

She walked them over to the left side of the stage, where you couldn’t really see anything from the stages point of view.

“I’ll come get you two after the show. Stay put.” The lady said as she walked away from the pair.

Duff glanced over at Slash “Jeez what’s her issue”

Slash just shrugged at him as his eyes went back to the stage, by now Alice was midway through their first song on the set, ‘Bleed The Freak’.

The two men’s eyes stayed on Y/n as she played and sang many of the background vocals and harmonies.

It was like the summer of ‘86 never even happened, now they were just enjoying the show and occasionally whispering to each other how good the band was.

Well except for when Duff mentally (okay lie, it was written all over his face) cringed when Y/n took off her black long sleeve, leaving her only in a her bra and baggy jeans. That’s when reality hit him again and he remembered that it was his sister on stage.

The band played their last song, which was currently the bands biggest hit, ‘Man in the box’.

The crowed cheered for them as the song ended, and Y/n went up to the mic to finish off the show.

“I wanna thank you guys for coming out” Y/n breathlessly spoke into the mic, being cut off by everyone cheering for them again. “Hope you guys enjoyed yourselves! until next time, goodnight from Alice in Chains. ” she said throwing up her hand, walking off stage along with the rest of the boys.

“Dude we fucken killed that!” Jerry, their bassist said as he threw Y/n over his shoulder, Layne laughed as he looked at Y/ns annoyed face, knowing she hated when Jerry did that.

“um dude how about you put me down? i have to go find my fucken shirt”

“You mean this shirt?” Sean said as hung the shirt over Y/n’s face, she tried to grab it, but the asshole threw the shirt over to Layne.

“Give me my shirt Layne!” Y/n said trying to get out of Jerry’s grasp, they were playful little dicks alright, never a moment where they weren’t fucking around.

“Y/n your-” Their manager called walking into the dressing room with Slash and Duff, cutting herself off mid sentence as saw Y/n over Jerry’s shoulder, and Sean and Layne tossing her shirt like if it was a football.

Jerry quickly turned around to face their manager, almost giving Y/n whiplash as he spun her around. So now Jerry was facing Slash, Duff, and Susan (their manager), and Y/ns face was quite literally on Jerry’s ass, being unable to see what was going on.

The room suddenly turned quite as the rest of the Alice guy’s eyes widened at the sight of Y/ns brother.

“Hey! what the fuck is going on and why haven’t you put me down Jerry” Y/n said as she heard nothing but pure silence, trying to get a glimpse at who else was in the room, only able to see their shoes.

“Oh right, sorry about that” Jerry said, letting out an awkward chuckle as he put her down.

Y/n turned around to look at what her bandmates were looking at. Being not so shocked to see Duff, but definitely being caught off guard as she saw Slash standing right next to him.

Look, now she knew she was obviously gonna come across Duff, but Slash? there was still a whole bunch of weird tension between the two, especially since this is her first time seeing him (And Duff too, but it’s different) in the longest, and she definitely didn’t think Duff would bring Slash with him, to see her.

“Hey” Y/n said as calmly and non-awkwardly as she could.

“Hey Y/n!” Duff excitedly said as he went up to hug her.

The girl cracked a smile and hugged him back, making eye contact with Slash before he quickly looked away.

“These are my band mates, Layne, Jerry and Sean” She said after she let go of their embrace.

“Guys this is Duff, and Slash” She said, nodding her head towards the curly headed boy who awkwardly stood there.

He hadn’t even said one word, the show was fun, but now this was just emotional torture to him. The fuck should i say? He thought.

Duff quickly sparked up a conversation with the Alice boys, turning his head over to Slash as he spoke,

“Slash, it’s rude not to greet people” He giggled at his friend, still totally wasted.

Slash smiled and shook his head, going up to properly greet the boys. They talked for a tiny bit until Slash just quietly stood there, quietly laughing along to whatever they were saying

“Bold of you not to say Hello to me” The curly head heard behind him.

Slash turned around to see Y/n looking at him, her hands bringing up a cigarette to her mouth.

Slash cleared his throat before speaking, “I think i need a few drinks before i’m able to talk to you”

Y/n laughed as she exhaled some smoke “No, i don’t think you do”

She walked away from him as she finally was able to snatch her shirt from Sean’s hand, putting it on while she walked over to a dirty old couch, sitting on it as she grabbed a beer from the table in front of her.

“Who wants beer” She said aloud as she ashed her cigarette.

She heard the boys walking over to where she was sitting, all of them taking a seat. All except Slash.

“Y’know i have a nickname now” Duff said as Y/n passed over a beer to him.

Y/n opened up the bottle, “Oh really? And what would that be”

“The king of beers” Duff spoke proudly

Y/n let out a laugh as she shook her head at him, “That’s quite a fucken name”

Slash watched as everyone talked and laughed, shaking his head to himself as this was quite literally the most humiliating thing to him. I mean shit he felt more left out then he did in high school!

He turned around as he walked out, thinking to himself that he probably deserved to not be included in their fun. Especially after what happened that summer.

But he had a glimmer of hope that maybe him & Y/n would be able to move past that, just like him and Duff did. He just didn’t know how he was going to do it.

————

Part 2!!! Hope you all enjoyed.

And what do you guys think? Does Slash deserve the cold shoulder? hmmm…

Till next time! xxxgnrbitch

Tagged: @alysais2cool @hoodiesandicedcoffee

[mccall-muffin]

Love vs. Hate - Part 21 // Joe Liebgott x OC

Summary: FREEZING HELL. That's all Liv can think about in these god-forsaken woods. Trying to keep the men up and help Lip manage the company somehow because their leader is an absolutely incompetent mick, she still mourning her sister. Can it get any worse?

Warnings: Language, War wounds, angst, mourn

A/N: Bastogne... *sigh* I think we all know what that means.

Here is my Masterlist

Taglist: @brassknucklespeirs, @liebgotts-lovergirl

December 23, 1944 - Bastogne, Belgium

Sitting by a tree on my helmet, I poke around in my food. Of course, I've tried to tuck thoughts of my sister away somewhere in the back of my mind, but that's easier said than done.

Of course, I noticed the pitying looks from the others because it was clear to me that George wasn't going to keep it to himself. Naturally, the first thing Skip did was also to tell Don, who immediately ran to me and gave me a big hug. Unsurprisingly, after that, everyone wanted to know what was going on, but no one addressed me directly, which was just fine with me.

I also sent Don away because I don't want to talk to him now. It's enough that I'm worried. The others don't have to be, too.

I leave my plate hanging and rub my eyes before getting up to put my plate down as Joe stands in front of me. As soon as I see his gaze, I turn away because I know what it means. "Liv," I hear him say, but I don't listen. I don't feel like another commiseration speech.

I take a few steps and move away from the group, but Joe follows me. "Liv," he says again, and now I turn to face him. "What?" I ask, annoyed, and also immediately see the slightly hurt expression in his eyes. He bites his lips and then looks at me again.

Then he sighs and hangs his head. "Liv... I... I heard about your sister," he says softly, then looks at me again. I press my lips together. "Oh yeah, I wouldn't have guessed." "Come on, Liv. I just want..." "What do you want?" I interrupt him briskly. "You do know you can't bring my sister back, right?"

"That's not what I wanted to say. I wanted to say that I want to look out for you." "Jesus Christ," I hiss. "How many times do I have to tell you? You don't need to look out for me! Nobody has to, don't you get that?! I'm a big girl, and I don't need you! Just back off, for fuck's sake!" Now Joe looks at me like I just smacked him.

"That's not fair, and you know it!"

I know it. And how I know it. And my inner self is screaming at me to apologize and hug Joe. But my outer self just stares at him. I feel my lips tremble, and my eyes start to burn. Then I snort and avert my gaze. "Just let it go," I say quietly before turning away from him again.

I take another few steps away from him, but now he doesn't follow me. I crouch down next to a tree and slap my hand over my mouth. Why am I doing this to him? Why am I being such an ass to him? I don't know it myself.

Putting my head back, I exhale deeply before taking out a smoke and lighting it.

"You know you shouldn't push him off you, right?" I stand up and turn around. Annoyed, I roll my eyes. "And neither should you push me away while we're at it." "Why can't you just leave me alone? Huh?"

"Because you're important to us, Liv! That's why! And we care about you. You haven't eaten since yesterday morning, you're not talking to anyone, and if I can be honest, you look like shit. We are worried." I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. "How nice. No one asked you to, though." "Well, that's the advantage of being friends. No one has to ask you to do it! Friends just do, and I know for a fact that if it were the other way around, you wouldn't react any differently."

"Don..."

"No, now you let me finish! Believe me; we get how you're feeling. We may not completely understand it, but we get that it must be frustrating that you can't do anything about it. We also get that you feel like you need to be strong, even if that's only partially true, Liv. But please let us be there for you. A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved, as they say, and some guys love you here, Liv, and would like to be there for you. Skip, Penk, George, Joe, and myself included. So please: stop pushing us away and let us be there for you!"

I look at Don. I can feel the warm tears running down my cheeks. Then I sob out, and Don immediately takes me in his arms. I put my arms around him as well and press myself against him. Only now do I realize how much I needed this.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Don," I say to my best friend in a shaky voice. "Hey, hey. It's okay," he whispers, gently stroking my back.

"No, it's not okay! I've been acting like a bitch! Especially to Joe," I say desperately, squeezing away from Don. "Jesus, he must hate me!" "Don't say that, Liv. Joe could never hate you, and you know it!" intervenes Don, and I look at him before wiping my tears with my sleeve.

"Anyway, I have to apologize..." I say and look at Don, who nods. "I'd recommend you do that."

I'm about to storm off when I stop and turn to Don again. "I don't deserve you; you know that," I say, smiling at him. "Oh, you don't say?" he grins, and I walk up to him again to hug him. "Love you, Don; I hope you know that." Don nods. "I know you do, sweetheart," he says, nudging me in one direction. "Now go on! Apologize to your boyfriend!"

I grin at him before turning back to the others. I quickly realize they've already left, but then Peacock walks up to me. "Liv. The men are back in their foxholes. Please make a round and see that they're all dug in." I nod at him. "Tom?" I ask, and he turns to me again. "Yeah?" "Any news on how things are going soon?" Peacock looks at me but then shakes his head. "No, I'm afraid not." I nod, wanting to move on. "And Liv?" "Yeah?" "Sorry about your sister."  I nod my thanks to him and then join the others.

Keeping an eye out for Joe, I walk through the foxholes. I am greeted from different directions, but I just nod to each guy.

From a distance, I can see Alley looking up at me as he sees me coming toward him. In front of him, his back turned to me, sits someone else, and I'm almost sure it's Joe. I look at Alley for a moment, then at the soldier, then back at Alley, who nods at me, barely noticeably.

I take a deep breath before walking up to the two of them. "Hey," I say, and Alley smiles at me. "Hey, Liv. You okay?" he asks, and I nod. "Um, Joe? Can I talk to you for a sec?" I ask hesitantly. Joe still doesn't look at me but seems to find his fingernails extremely interesting. "I wouldn't know what about," he says indifferently, and Alley looks at me with raised eyebrows. "Please," I follow up and look at him. Finally, he lifts his eyes and looks at me. Then he sighs deeply.

"Oh, uh, I think I need to see Skinny for a minute," Alley says quickly and gets out of the foxhole. I give him a quick nod and then slide into the foxhole with Joe.

For a moment, we sit silently next to each other. He takes out his smokes and lights one. I'm surprised he doesn't offer me one, but I don't give it a second thought.

"I wanted to apologize," I say, and he looks up. "Uh-huh." "Yeah. I acted really awful, and I'm sorry about that. I know you only meant well, and I really don't know what got into me..." Joe looks at me without saying anything. "The thing with Cindy... My sister. It's bothering me more than it should right now," I admit. I look down at my hands and start kneading them.

"I was against her enlisting. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen. She just said that since I was in the Army, why shouldn't she join the Marines?" I have to smile myself when I think back on it. Then I rub my eyes. "I just didn't really worry about anything happening to my siblings... It... I didn't think it was possible. And now..." I sigh and close my eyes. "It's too real," Joe finally says, and I look at him before nodding.

"I still don't know how to deal with this, but I do know one thing. I don't want to push you away. And like I said, I'm so sorry for what I said to you."

Now Joe finally smiles. He takes out another smoke, lights it, and holds it to me. "Apology accepted." Surprised, I look at him. "That easy?" Joe smiles his familiar crooked smile, and his dimple appears. "I was never really angry, you know. I know you're miserable, but I didn't know how you'd react. I hate to admit it, but your words just... hurt me."

Hesitantly, I slide over to Joe before taking his hand in mine. "I'm sorry," I say again, looking at him from the side. "Okay, now stop apologizing. That's enough," he smiles before leaning down to me and pressing a kiss to my lips. "Thank you for being there for me," I whisper against his lips, and he smiles. "I will always be there for you, love."

Again Joe kisses me, and I can't help but smile against his lips. I'm just fortunate.

December 24, 1944 - Bastogne, Belgium

Still freezing, I doze in my foxhole and somehow try to store the warmth in my body. I feel my feet aching and stretch them out again and again. Suddenly I hear footsteps next to me and look up. "Hey, Liv... You okay?" I nod, and Lip jumps into the foxhole with me. "Except for the cold, what are you going to do." "Can you take over for now? Stop by everyone's holes and see if everything's okay. I need to find Dike." "Sure. I think my feet will be happy to get some movement," I say, slowly standing up.

I get out of the foxhole and head toward the front. "Guys? You okay?" I ask when I get to George, Penk, and Muck. "What do you mean, sweetheart? Whether everything is still here, or whether we're really okay?" "Shut up, George," I grin as I kneel to them. "How are you?" Muck then asks, eyeing me. "It won't be long until I can't feel my damn feet anymore, but other than that... It's getting better, thank you. Hold the fort, boys. See you later," I then say and stand back up.

I walk a few more foxholes until I see Spina and Doc sitting in a foxhole. "Hey, you two," I say to them and sit in with them. "You guys know better than to sit in a foxhole together. If Dike sees that, he's going to freak." "We need to exchange our supplies. We're running on fumes right now, Liv," Doc tells me, smiling honestly at me. "I know... Unfortunately, I don't have any other information for you. Just make sure you guys split up when you're done, okay?" "Sure thing. Oh, and Sarge?" "Yeah?" "You got something to spare?" Doc asks me, and I check my pockets. I can find one syrette of morphine and some bandages. "Here you go." "Thanks! You got any scissors by chance?" I shake my head.

"What's that?" We hear someone shout, and Dike walks up to us. "Two medics in one hole? What happens if you get hit? Huh?" he asks, glaring at Doc and Spina. I also look briefly at Doc, who looks at me, and I shrug my shoulders with my lips pressed together. I told them so, that Dike would not be pleased. "Yes, sir," Doc then says.

Dike looks at him angrily. "First Sergeant Lipton?" he calls out, and I take that as a hint and turn around. "Sergeant Stark," Dike calls me back, and I stop. "Sir?" I ask, and at that moment, Lip arrives. He looks at me for a moment and at him determinedly. "First Sergeant, where's my foxhole?" Dike then asks, turning to Lip. "It's back here, sir. Maybe you missed it, huh? I'll walk you back. You're a bit close to the line here." "All right, Sergeant Stark, you're with me," he says, and I roll my eyes before following him.

"What can I do for you, sir?" I then ask as Lip shows Dike his foxhole, and he climbs in. Lip and I exchange a quick glance. "Didn't I tell you I didn't want two medics in a hole together? Why didn't you separate them right away?" he asks. I take a quick breath. "Well, sir, Doc Roe informed me that they were both very short on supplies, which is why they wanted to exchange some stuff. I gave them what I had as well." "And put yourself in danger, Sergeant! What do you think would have happened if the hole had been hit? You' d be dead, and we'd be down two medics and an assistant leader."

I bite my lips for a moment. "I think the two medics would certainly be the worse loss than I am, sir. But I'll keep an eye out for that in the future." Dike looks at me for a moment. "Good," he says, then turns away again. "That will be all. Report to Lieutenant Compton." "I, uh, I was actually just about to make my rounds, sir." Again Dike looks at me but says nothing. Then he nods wordlessly and turns away. I look briefly at Lip, still standing by, and say tonelessly, "Wow."

I walk a little further, where I find Joe and Alley. "Well, look who decided to finally show up," Joe says, grinning at me. "Yeah yeah, shut up. Dike just held me back." I wave it off and sit with the two of them in the foxhole. "You guys all right?" "Yeah, whereas, take a look at this, Sarge," Alley then says, extending his finger to me. He has a thick spike in his finger. "What the fuck, Alley? Make sure you have Doc take a look at that later. That doesn't look healthy." Joe, next to me, smirks. "Told you, Alley. What was that about Dike, Liv?" "Oh, nothing. I walked by Doc and Spina and told them he would freak if he saw them together. Well, now he freaked cause he saw the three of us together. 'Didn't I tell you I didn't want two medics in a hole together?'"

I laugh, and Joe and Alley join in. Then  I peek out of the foxhole for a moment and see that Don and Bill are only a few feet away from Joe and Alley. I give Joe's hand a quick squeeze before standing up. "I'll be back later," I say to them, and I see Joe looking after me. As I walk toward Bill and Don, Don is already raising his head and grinning at me. Before I reach them, however, I hear the old familiar flying sound above me. My gaze turns serious, and I see the panic in Don's look as well.

"Fuck! Incoming!" I shout and start running. "Goddamnit, Liv! Where are you going?" Don calls after me, but I keep running. "Take cover! Stay in your foxholes!" I shout and run through the soldiers while the trees explode around me. "Liv!" I keep hearing voices calling. I run in a circle to ensure all the men are safe.

A few meters in front of me, I see Joe and Alley's foxhole again, which I run towards, but I slip on the frozen ground and fall. "Liv!" I hear them scream again, but I don't know if it's Don or Joe. I quickly push myself back to my feet and try to keep running. Suddenly, something explodes in front of me, and I am swept off my feet. I feel a sharp pain in my left cheek. The shock wave knocks me backward and tears my helmet off my head. My body hits the ground hard, and my head crashes to the frozen floor. Sideways, with pain all over my body, I remain lying, my vision blurred. I groan briefly. In the distance, I can make out voices, but then everything goes black.

Joe's POV:

The trees around us explode. Shocked, I look at Liv, who is running back and forth between the foxholes. "Liv," I call out desperately. "Damn it! Liv!" She finally has us in sight and runs toward us. "Come here!" Alley and I shout. Suddenly, something explodes in front of our foxhole. "Shit! Liv! No!" I call, trying to spot her in the rubble. "There!" Alley then shouts, and then I see her too. She is lying motionless on the ground. Her helmet is a few feet away. I can hear her moaning in pain. "Liv!" I call and try to climb out of the foxhole, but Alley pulls me back. "Are you insane?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he yells at me and pushes me down. "But Liv!" "Sorry, Joe, but this will have to wait!" he says firmly as explosions go off around us again.

Frantically, I join Alley in looking at Liv, who is still lying in the middle of it all. Everything is exploding around her: trees, the ground... My gaze briefly wanders to Malarkey, who is also sitting tensely in his hole and is being held back by Guarnere.

"Shit Alley! She's completely exposed there!" "Yeah, and I pray she survives, but it won't do us shit if you both get hit!"

With trembling lips and hands, I finally wait for it to be over, and I'm praying that Liv is all right. The second the bombing dies, I don't wait longer, jumping out of my foxhole and running over to her. Malarkey follows me immediately. "Shit! Liv! Hey," I say and kneel next to her. Her eyes are closed. There's a splinter under her left eye, which just barely missed it. She is bleeding from her head and probably other parts of her body. Her pants are soaked with blood.

"Fuck! Liv! Come on!" I say desperately and take her head in my lap. Malarkey has dropped to his knees beside me and is also looking at Liv. "Medic!" he then shouts. "We need a fucking Medic!" I duck down to her face, watching to see if she's breathing. "She's still breathing," I tell Malarkey, who looks at me with relief. He takes her hand in his, and his face shows in horror. "Goddammit, Liv," he murmurs.

It takes a few short minutes for Doc to finally show up. "About fucking time!" I yell at him, but Doc ignores me and slithers next to Liv. He checks her pulse. "I need a flashlight," he says, and Malarkey reaches into his pocket before handing him his. Doc holds open Liv's eye and shines a light into it. "She's unconscious. Probably from the blow to the head, but we need to get her away from the front." Malarkey and I nod immediately, and I carefully lift her up and gently place her head against my chest, and then Lipton joins us.

"What happened?" "Liv almost got blown up," Malarkey says quickly, and Lipton looks at her with concern. He can see the blood stains on her legs and the blood that runs from her head. "We need to get her away from the front, Lip." Lipton nods before looking from Malarkey to me. "Sorry, Malark, we need you here. Liebgott, you and Doc get Liv to the CP." I nod in relief that Lip is letting me go, but Malarkey's clearly having a hard time letting his best friend go like this. "Take care of her, Lieb," he says, and I nod.

Quickly Doc and I take Liv to the CP, where Winters looks right up. "What happened?" he asks quickly, and we lay Liv down on the blanket he just put down. "Mortar," I say. "Almost hit her." Doc immediately begins to examine her properly. "Some splinters are stuck in her legs and one under her eye. I'm going to have to stitch that up. I'll have to look at the others after." His gaze travels over her legs. "She's going to need a new pair of pants." I follow Doc's gaze and see the holes burned into Liv's pants.

I take hold of Liv's hand and gently stroke it. "Liebgott, I think Doc has this covered," Winters says, and I look up. "Please, sir, I just want to make sure she's okay," I say quickly, and Winters eyes me. Then he nods briefly, and I look at him thankfully. "That's good; I can probably use a little help," Doc says, pulling out his tweezers. "Here," he says and presses a packet of sulfa into my hand. "As soon as I get the splinter out, you'll drizzle that on the wound. After that, I can stitch it up."

As Doc instructed, I drizzle the powder on the wound as he finally removes the splinter. "That's going to leave a scar," Doc mumbles to himself before sealing up the damage. "Here," he says, pressing a gauze into my hand. "You can clean the wound on her head." As Doc instructs me, I dab Liv's head wound and wipe away the blood that has also flowed into her hair. The contrast with her otherwise light blonde hair is enormous.  When Doc is finished with the wound under her eye, he turns to her legs.

"We need to get her pants off," Doc says, looking me in the eye. "Are you crazy? She's going to freeze to death!" "And if I can't clean her wounds, she'll die of infection. Same result Liebgott." Suddenly Winters is standing next to us again, looking down at Liv. "Here, Doc. Pants. They should fit," he says, turning away again as he sees Doc unzip Liv's old pants. "Doc..." I say sternly and look at him. He lifts his eyes and then looks from Liv to me and back down again before taking his hands away and nodding. Carefully, I unzip the pants before pulling them down and somehow trying to maintain Liv's dignity with the spare pants.

Liv's legs are blue from the cold, and she has some wounds with splinters everywhere, as well as small lacerations, which Doc carefully tends to one by one and applies Sulfa to. When he's done, we put the new pants back on as quickly as possible, and I take off my coat to spread it over her. Briefly, we both sit next to her as Winters joins us again. "How is she?" he asks, looking at Doc.

"She's still unconscious, so we should keep an eye on her. We don't want her body to get into shock or something." "Okay," Winters says, then looks at me. "Joe... I need you to go back to the front, and I bet you needed too Doc. Sorry." "But, sir... Liv..." "We'll keep an eye on her and send someone if she wakes up." I look again briefly at Liv and then at Winters. "Sir," I say, then reluctantly return to the front.

Sure enough, Malarkey comes rushing right at me. "How is she?" "I don't know. Doc patched her up. But she's still unconscious." "Then what are you doing here? We have to watch her," Malarkey immediately shouts, but I stop him. "Winters is watching her. He sent me back here and said he'd let us know if there was any change in her condition." "God damn it! Why does she have to run around out there!" "You know how she is." "I know, but still. That's so stupid." "Well, she's going to get some scars out of it; maybe she'll learn from it," I say, but I don't even believe my own words. Malarkey looks at me and chuckles.

"Yeah, right, because she's always so insightful."

[maladaptive-day-dreams]

Chapter 3: The Summer of Starcourt, 1985

1.7k words Content warning: flufffffffity fluff fluff (literally all fluff and fun friendship and shit), cursing, smoking weed, friendly shotgunning of said weed, filler chapter #3, brief recollection of S3 at the end

Tags: @and-claudia

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Mom and Dad harass me to get a job as soon as I turn 17. And, thanks to Eddie and his van, he and I both land jobs at the record store in the strip mall down the way. Mom and Dad are noooooot happy about it but I just shoot them “you told me to get a job” and they quiet down.

They’re still annoyed that Eddie and I haven’t grown apart, no matter how much they remind me that they don’t like him. He grew his hair out starting Freshman year and started dealing drugs after school in Sophomore year so Mom and Dad like to pull the “bad influence” card whenever the opportunity arises.

Currently that opportunity is as soon as I need to head to Eddies so he doesn’t leave without me for the first day back to Senior year after Spring break.

“He’s not a good guy, Y/N!” Mom yells down the hallway after me. “You’ll get into trouble if you keep hanging out with him!”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I’ve heard it a thousand times Mom! I get it! You don’t like him, I have to get to school now; won’t be home until late! I have a night shift at the record store, so don’t wait up!” I yell back to her.

I slam the door behind me and jog over to the Munson trailer as Eddie is getting in the van.

“I almost left you behind there, sweetheart,” he chuckles as I hop in the passenger side.

“Yeah, mom was hitting me with the ‘he’s not a good guy’ speech, like usual.”

I catch Eddie’s face fall slightly in my peripheral vision, but a smile shows up within seconds of the change.

“You’re working the night shift too right?” I ask as Eddie backs out of the driveway. “Or do I need to find a ride home?”

“Nah I got dragged into it too. Boss called me about it this morning, we’re moving some extra stock to the store in Starcourt all night but he said he’ll get us dinner in the foodcourt as extra pay.”

“Do you think he’ll consider ice cream as dinner?”

Eddie laughs, “I doubt it but we can ask him.”

“Ooh side note! I hit up the thrift store over break,” I say pulling out a new collection of cassette tapes. “What should we listen to today?”

“No way,” Eddie exclaims snatching a tape from my hands. “How is Twisted Sister’s Stay Hungry album already at the thrift store?”

Eddie quickly takes out the tape and shoves it into the vans tape player and we get to school by the end of I Wanna Rock.

* * *

“Christ, Mrs. Baker gets on my nerves so bad sometimes,” I huff. Eddie and I are walking out of Hawkins High and headed towards the back of the lot to the van.

“What did poor Mrs. Baker ever do you to you, sunshine?” Eddie laughs, throwing an arm around my shoulder.

“Who the fuck assigns a 5 page paper the day after we get back from break?”

“Oof, yeah that’s rough. I’m glad I’m in Mr. Robert’s English class this year, we just listened to him ramble on about some dumb book we were supposed to read over break.”

“Did you read it?”

Eddie shoots me a look, and we break into laughter.

“Of course you didn’t, stupid question.”

“Hop in, lets get this moving party started.”

We show up to work a few minutes early, but sit in the parking lot to finish the joint Eddie saved for work tonight.

“Wanna finish it off, Eds?”

“Nah, all yours sweets,” Eddie breathes, head leant back on the headrest.

“Hmm how ‘bout we split it?”

Eddie shifts his head to look at me as I take one last long drag. I nod my head and Eddie leans over to me. Once he’s close enough I blow some smoke into his parted mouth like we’ve done hundreds of times.

“Thanks, sunshine,” he smiles.

“Y’welcome Eds, you know me, I love to share,” I look at him and we laugh together again before getting out of the van.

“Alright how bad am I?” He asks coming over to the sliding door behind the passenger side. “Sniff me.”

I chuckle and lean close to him to smell his shirt and jacket.

“You’re gonna need at least three sprays today. How am I?”

Eddie leans in and smells my sweater, “how do you always need less than me? You can definitely get by with just one.”

I reach into the gym bag under the couch in the back of the van and pull out Eddie’s cologne and my spare perfume that we keep there for days like this. Handing Eddie mine, I hold up his before saying, “alright on three. 1, 2, 3.”

We spray each other down and toss the bottles back in the bag before Eddie closes the van door and locks up.

As we walk in to the strip mall location of the record store, Boss calls out from the back room, “y’all do know I don’t care if you come in a lil toasty, right?”

Eddie and I look at each other and laugh, “sorry Boss, I’ll bring you one next time alright?”

“That’s my boy,” he says coming out of the back room with a box of records. “Now, we’ve got 4 boxes of records, 2 boxes of tapes, a box of CDs and 2 boxes of merch to haul over there today. After that we’ll be all set for when the Mall opens to the public next month. Y’all are still good to shift over there once it’s open right?”

“I’m good as long as Eddie is since he’s my ride,” I say as I head to the back to grab a box.

“Yup, I’m all good.”

“Great, it’ll be a huge help if y’all run that while I work on getting more hands over here. The mall should be a busier store so hopefully we won’t be so close to the red anymore.”

Ever since Eddie and I started, Boss has gotten us in on everything, including the store’s finances. It’s been great to learn about it but also sucks knowing that if the mall store doesn’t do well that we’ll probably be out our jobs in a few months and Hawkins will lose the best music store we’ve got.

* * *

Once we haul all the boxes over to the mall, Boss leaves us to organizing while he takes a walk to talk to other store owners nearby. Eddie pulls out the cassette radio he brought over from the strip mall and puts in an Iron Maiden tape to listen to while we organize the shelves.

We’re singing along and dancing a little while Eddie sets up the records and I set up the CDs and merchandise. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Robin in a sailor outfit pass the front and I drop what I’m doing to run out and say hey.

“Yo, Robin!”

Robin and I got close when she was in Freshman year and I was in Sophomore. We actually kinda dated a little but realized we’d do better as friends.

“Y/N? Hey, what are you doing here?” She asks pulling me in for a hug.

“The record store I work at is renting out one of the last open spaces,” I answer, hugging her back. We separate and I look at her get-up again. “Uh, nice outfit.”

“Don’t even,” she laughs. “It’s horrible, I know, but my parents wanted me to get a job and the ice cream place in here—Scoops Ahoy—was hiring.”

“Oh no it’s,” I pause and hold in my laugh. “It’s fantastic.”

“I hate you,” she laughs. “But hey at least I get to see you around more over the summer.”

“That’s true,” I smile. “What are you doing here today?”

“I have to train the new guy before we open next month. Get this, it’s Steve Harrington.”

“I’m sorry, did I hear you right? Harrington? Working at the ice cream shop in the mall? Having to wear that?” I say gesturing to her sailor uniform.

“Yup, the one and only King Steve,” she mocks.

“That’ll be…interesting. Have fun with that,” I laugh.

She smiles and waves as she walks towards the food court.

“Who was that?” Eddie asks when I go back to setting up the merchandise wall.

“Robin.”

“Robin?”

“The band girl that I dated sophomore year? The one that we decided we’d be better as friends?”

“Ohhh right right.”

“She’s working at the ice cream place in the food court and get this, Steve Harrington is gonna work there too.”

“Wait, King Steve has been demoted to Ice Cream Sailor?”

I nod my head and we laugh a little before getting back to the tasks at hand.

“Thanks for dinner Boss!” Eddie and I yell as we get into the van after getting back to the strip mall location of the record store. He waves to us as we back out of the lot and head home for the night.

* * *

Unfortunately, we only get the Summer at Starcourt. It’s a great summer, don’t get me wrong. Eddie and I have a blast running the store there and making fun of Harrington from the other side of the food court. Robin has this running tally of how many girls Steve has been able (or not able) to woo which is always a fun thing to watch unfold.

Dustin Henderson and Steve are apparently big pals and they had a big reunion in the food court when Dustin got back from summer camp—lots of yelling and noises and handshakes. The only reason we know who 8th grader Dustin is is because Eddie has been keeping an eye on him and his buddies as recruits for Hellfire once they start Freshman year in the fall, but it’s still weird to think Dustin and Steve are friends. Then again, most of the people we see around Steve over the summer are kids.

Anyway, closer to the end of summer, I think it was end of June? Yeah, it was because everything happened before 4th of July. End of June a bunch of shit went down and the mall kinda blew up. No one really explained what happened but all I know is that Robin, Harrington and his gaggle of kids know what went down. And we only know this because all of them looked rough the week after the mall went up in flames.

But now, Robin and Steve are best friends and hang out a lot which kinda sucks for me because I don’t see her as much anymore. It’s okay though, I have Eddie.

[casspurrjoybell-18]

Worthless - Chapter 28 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Asher

"Then why the fuck are you here?" 

"Why did you leave us with him?"

It was barely a whisper. Riley couldn't bring herself to look at Murphy. She trembled, waiting for his response. Fallon, seeing his sister's distress, took her hand in his. Thankful, she smiled, squeezing his hand before looking Murphy dead in the eye and repeating the question.

"Why did you leave us in that place?"

He started to laugh, softly at first before it got louder and more insane.

"That? That was what you wanted to know so badly? You seriously just want to know why I gave you to Rufus? Hahaha."

"R-Rufus?" 

My heart began to pound in my ears. I held my breath, waiting for him to answer Riley even though I somehow knew who he meant.

"The human, you dumb bitch and I didn't give him you, I gave him that cunt Rose. His mutt was getting boring, he wasn't even fuckable for Christ's sake. Always in that wolf form. I sure as hell wasn't going to risk getting my dick bitten off."

"That still doesn't..."

"Shut the fuck up and let me finish."

Spittle flew out of his mouth as he yelled. They were silent as his chest rose and fell, his breathing raspy. He coughed once before continuing, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Anyway, the deal was that I could use the bitch whenever and he got to keep whatever popped out. The dumb fuck was going to breed you when you got older then sell off your pups. It was a decent idea and I wanted a cut."

I could see the tears waiting to be released in Riley's eyes. Fallon only glared at the man, his fists clenched as he trembled in rage. Murphy took notice, grinning wickedly.

"And you, you little bastard, we going to be raised as a guard dog. Probably would've been forced to breed the bitch too. You'd eventually take the mutts place and be used to train the pack and be used for Rufus's own frustrations but then Alpha Eric had to show up and that coward up and ran. Stupid fucking human. Wish I killed him when I had a chance. Should have killed you brats too," he sneered,

"Both of you meant nothing to me. You still mean nothing."

I felt my blood boil. I wanted to launch myself at Murphy, to rip his tongue out for saying those things. How dare he talk to them like that? I knew full well what my place in that hell hole was but Riley and Fallon could've been spared that knowledge. Even though Kade was the one holding me back, I felt his body tremble in barely contained rage. He was just as angry as I was if not more. 

"That bastard's going to pay a hundred times over before he get's the mercy of death..." his voice shook as he whispered the oath.

I was about to twist my way out of his grasp, intent on doing it myself there and now when Fallon spoke.

"I don't care."

Murphy froze as Fallon calmly met his eyes.

"You don't mean anything to me either. I don't need you and neither does Riley."

He glanced at her, sending a quick smile. She smiled back though she still looked ready to cry. Straightening her back, she turned to Murphy, wiping at her eyes and sniffing once.

"He's right. All we wanted was an explanation. We got it. It doesn't matter what you think about us, we have a family and it isn't you."

"Hmph, so that's it? You came down here just for that and are going to leave? Don't fuck with me..."

"Don't fuck with us."

My mouth dropped open as Fallon cursed. Behind me, Kade tried to muffle his laughter, sounding almost like he was suffocating as he leaned against the wall. Riley looked just as surprised and Murphy just sat back, his face neutral. Fallon stuck his tongue out, looking real cheeky after cursing.

"You're a bad person and I don't like bad people, so you can just stay down here and rot."

He grabbed Riley's and started to drag her away. They hurried out of the room with Murphy yelling at their backs. We tried to scramble back the way we came but Kade tripped over a chair once we got to the first room, sending us tumbling to the floor. Riley's voice was just outside the doorway and we knew that it was too late to hide.  

"Come on, we need to get back before, oh."

We all froze when they caught sight of us. Kade helped me up and we just stood there awkwardly. I knew he wasn't going to say anything, he was shuffling back and forth waiting for me to do the parenting. Riley looked terrified that they'd been caught while Fallon stared at me with dread, knowing we heard him curse. I sighed.

'I think we're going to have to start a curse jar.'

Fallon turned red.

"I-I just wanted to show him he didn't scare me."

"We know pup," Kade chuckled, deciding it was safe to speak now that he was sure he wouldn't be the bad guy.

"But you're still too young to cuss. It's for adults..."

'You're going to put money in the jar too.'

I was annoyed. I'd probably end up being the stricter parent. I could just see it now, fun parent Kade saying yes right after I say no.

"What? Come on, baby. I'm a grown ass..."

"Ah. One dollar in the swear jar," Riley sang, a grin stretching ear to ear.

I was happy she wasn't letting what Murphy said get to her. They both surprised me with their reactions.

"Fine," Kade let loose a huge sigh of defeat we ignored the sounds of Murphy howling, walking through the room and down the hall. Reaching the steps, I glanced at Kade.

'You knew what they were up to, didn't you?'

'Yeah, I thought it would be some sort of closure for them. Sorry that I lied to you.'

I sighed.

'Just don't do it again. I mean it.'

He leaned over to give me a peck once we were outside.

'I won't, I promise. I'm serious about the curse jar though. But why do I have to, I just know you're going to leave the disciplining to me so might as well start now.'

He sighed. I looked over at Riley and Fallon when I heard a giggle. They probably knew what we were talking about. Really, Kade was being a baby about it. It would be good for him too.

'I mean, if you don't want to pay a dollar, I can just withhold sex for a couple days.'

'No. I-I mean, nah. I'll pay the dollar. No sweat off my back.'

I sent him an amused look. Though he tried to play it off, I could see his horror at the idea. I laughed at his pained expression when he imagined going without sex. When I caught his eyes I felt my cheeks heat up. He looked at me with such warmth that it made my heart skip a beat. It was like I was his world in that instant. 

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. You're just so beautiful when you laugh."

I felt myself go redder, Riley and Fallon snickering before making kissing noises at us. I didn't look at Kade as we walked home hand in hand. My heart pounded in my chest as I was fully aware of his presence, his every glance, his every breath. His scent was like a drug that I couldn't get enough of. I was positive I'd never get used to this man and his love.

[wreckofawriter]

better

pairing: regulus black x evans!reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: swearing, angst, make out scene

request by: @upchurch-funk

summary: being a muggleborn dating Regulus meant you had to keep it a secret. When your older sister finds out she raises fear of heartbreak in both of you

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

    You and your sisters had been born jealous. Petunia turned to envy first as the attention that had been solely given to her was split between two other daughters. She had always been bitter towards you and Lily, never forgiving you for interpreting her perfect young life.  She had taken your things, broken your toys and ripped your clothes trying to punish you for being born and turning her from an only child to the eldest.

    Lily was next when she realised she wasn't the only one who could sprout fire from her fingertips. She had accused you of faking your magic for years, doing everything she could to best you even if she never fully understood her powers herself. Luckily she outgrew this jealous fit and by the time you shared a cabin on your way to Hogwarts she was beaming ear to ear. 

    It was you who was last to realise what the burn in your chest really meant. The feeling came heavy like thick rain drops as you watched your sister fall so effortlessly in love. Each time she gave James a quick hug or leaned onto his shoulder your eyes narrowed, fury irrationally rising in your throat. 

    This wasn’t because you wished James was yours instead. In fact you had considered him an idiot since you met him and would have rather drown yourself than date the loud mouth fool. You were instead jealous of the simplicity of their relationship. Envious of how they could be carefree, how they could dream of picket fences and happy futures. You hated that they could still be stupid kids. How they were given the freedom to make out in hallways and sneak into eachothers dorms with their worst consequence being a slap on the wrist and week of detention. Nothing hurt more than watching your sister live a simple life you knew you never could. 

    You stared across the room locking eyes with Regulus for only a brief moment before his darted away. Charms was dreadfully boring, the lecture practically putting you to sleep, you knew you should have been paying attention, but watching the younger Black perform the spell with ease was far more interesting. The flick of his wrist was an addicting, dull look in his eyes far more attractive than it should have been. He had woken up late that morning, his hair messier than usual. You thought it looked adorable, the way a few strands drooped in front of his lashes. He only got cuter as he blew them from his face with a pout. 

    “You have a staring problem.” Levi muttered from beside you. 

    You rolled your eyes, “Do you ever mind your own business?” 

    “Please, you make your thing for Black everyone's business.” He muttered and you kicked him under the desk. 

    Cussing at you he glared, leaning down to massage his bruising shin. 

    You wondered briefly how he would have reacted to the reveal of your relationship with your “hopeless crush” as he liked to call it. The surprise on his face would have been sweet as honey. 

    Regulus was watching you now as you continued to talk to your desk mate, he had never liked the boy, call it jealousy or anger, something bitter always rose in his throat when he saw you with him. Maybe it was because he knew your life would be so much easier if you had loved him instead. 

    “I don’t get what you see in him anyway.” Levi said, looking across at Regulus whose eyes had quickly retreated back to his parchment. 

    You grew brittle at the statement.

    “I mean I know he's attractive but if it's really about looks why not go for his brother?” He grumbled.

    You scoffed, “Please, Sirius is a piece of work.” 

    “And he isn't? I’m surprised he hasn’t called you a slur yet.” 

    Rage bubbled in your stomach, your chest feeling hot, “Shut up.” 

    Levi was either oblivious to the anger set in your tone or unbothered by it “I mean really y/n, you have a crush on a purist? It's sickening.” 

    You screwed your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the hot tears building behind them. You wanted to scream at him, slap him across the face and shout how Regulus would never do such a thing. You wanted to tell him how wrong he was, make him regret ever speaking such cold words.  But instead you looked away, wiping your tears as they came while your boyfriend sat across the room pretending you didn't exist. 

   

    You were used to it, you knew as a muggleborn dating a pureblood from a family like his would never be easy but the words still stung. That night you sobbed into Regulus’s chest as he held you in your usual hidden courtyard. 

    As your tears soaked through his sweater he felt nothing but the cold grip of guilt. He had never meant to fall in love. He had known it was a mistake the second it had happened. Even now he knew he had been wrong and stupid and naive to let himself feel so deeply for someone he could never truly be with. He would never forgive himself for forcing you into the hellish life he lived with a simple confession. He hated himself every day for it, he didn't deserve to indulge in his emotions knowing it would cause you nothing but pain. He didn't deserve you and he had known that from the start. 

    Yet every night you met, kissing under the pale moon until your lips grew numb. Everynight he found himself falling deeper and deeper into you until you filled his dreams and nightmares alike. So he forced you closer to him, knowing he would cause nothing but hurt. And you were so childishly in love you let him. 

    Later as you lay asleep on his chest, legs tangled beneath a blanket he let his own tears go, silent apologies dripping down his cheek as he tightened his grip on your waist. 

    Lily watched you from where she sat at her table, green eyes narrowed as she tried to read your mind across the dining hall. 

    “Something is definitely off.” She mumbled turning to James who stared at her with a  dopey grin. “You haven’t been listening to a word I said have you?” 

    “How can I when you’re so beautiful?” He murmured back and she scoffed, face darkening.

    Sirius gagged, “You guys are disgusting.” 

    “Christ Black, how old are you?” Lily spoke with the roll of her eyes. 

    He scrunched his nose and pretended to mock her silently only earning a sigh from Remus who sat beside him. 

    “Something is wrong with y/n, I can just feel it.” Lily continued content on ignoring Sirius. 

    “Maybe she's dating that Callahan kid.” James offered. “There’s been tons of rumors.”

    Lily scoffed, “Please, she has told me multiple times she has absolutely no interest in him.” 

    “A few months ago you were telling her you had absolutely no interest in James.” Remus offered not to look up from his book.

    Lily sputtered blushing heavily again, “That is completely different.” 

    “Sure it is.” Remus drawled, eyes peering over the cover at her. 

    Lily furrowed her brow, “But why wouldn’t she tell me? I mean I thought we've always been close.” 

    “Maybe it's not that serious.” Sirius shrugged, “Maybe they’re just fuck buddies or something.”

    Lily pulled back in disgust, “Don’t talk about my little sister like that!” she hissed as Remus kicked him under the table.

    “What? She’s almost 17! It's not like she's 12 or something, Godric.” Sirius complained and James threw a spoon at him. 

    “You know if you’re really that curious we could always just check the map.” James said looking over at Lily who was trying to set Sirius on fire with her glare. 

    She considered it for a moment, “Isn’t that kind of..” she paused “intrusive?” 

    He shrugged, “She's your little sister.” 

    The sky was dark that night as you met with Regulus. The moon was new leaving only the blinking stars to light the ground beneath you. 

    You grinned when you saw Regulus leaning against the small statue in the middle of the courtyard. You quickened your pace pulling him into a brief kiss as you met.

    “Hi.” You whispered against his lips and you felt him smile.

    “Hi.” He responded, hands on your waist pulling you closer once again. 

You tasted sweet like the nectar of the gods, soft and tender in his arms. Your hair smelt of pomegranate, your flowery perfume engulfing him. There was nothing more addicting on this world than your lips. 

You both pulled away breathless and grinning stupidly, “Your hair looks so cute like this.” You mumbled running your hands through it and tugging lightly on a curly lock that had fallen down his forehead. 

Regulus practically purred, melting into your touch. He dipped his head low to hide his blush, lips skimming the skin of your neck. 

You giggled as he mumbled a bashful thank you before nipping slightly below your ear. He was always careful to never leave marks that could be seen the following day. You wished he wasn’t. 

You felt his hands on the back of your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your nose in his hair as he walked until your back hit the wall of the castle. You scratched your nails lightly against his scalp and Regulus groaned. You gasped at the feeling of his tongue on your jaw as he pressed you further into the stone. Your legs now wrapped around his waist as he left sloppy kisses on your collar bone. 

It was then you heard the shuffle of footsteps. 

“Regulus.” You whispered and he broke away to look up at you, his lips red and glossy , “I heard someone.” 

He slowly lowered you to your feet, “You sure?” 

You nodded and you both stood silently, ears craning for another sign of life among you. After a minute you sighed, “Sorry, I must have been hearing things.” 

Regulus just shook his head grinning lightly, “ ‘s fine babe.” words slurring, intoxicated by your taste. 

Your lips reconnected, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as you began to work on the buttons of his shirt, tugging on his tie to loosen its knot. But there it was again the soft sound of feet, closer this time. 

You both paused Regulus pulling away leaving your skin feeling cold in his absence. 

“Who’s there?” He demanded into the darkness, wand lit. 

There was no response and you grabbed his hand to pull him back to you. Regulus stood his ground so you leaned into him, lips ghosting against his ear. 

“It's probably just a mouse or somethin’.” You murmured hands coming back to undo the remaining buttons of his shirt.

Regulus glanced around once more before looking down at you, “You’re probably right.”  he said before he began to untuck your blouse, hands sliding slowly under it. 

It was that which finally broke Lily, her vision going red. She stepped from beneath the invisibility cloak ignoring James' protests. 

You let out a small yelp as your sister appeared from thin air, Regulus who had his back turned to her immediately drew his wand pushing you lightly behind him. His eyes went wide as he found himself inches from your older sister. It was your turn to pull Regulus behind you. 

“Lily, What in bloody hell are you doing here?” 

When James sheepishly appeared as well you gasped, “What is wrong with you both, are you stalking me?” 

Lily looked stern, her arms crossed, “Why are you with him?” she seethed.

Your eyes narrowed, “None of your fucking buissnes. Now take your dog and leave.” 

Regulus almost didn't believe it was you that was talking. He wasn’t accustomed to the harsh tone you used, your anger hardly ever directed at him. 

“This is most certainly my business!” She spoke shrilly. 

“It is most certainly not. Now get out.” You shouted.

“How can you expect me to leave when you're getting all touchy feely with a purist?” She hissed, grabbing at your wrist to pull you away from the boy behind you.    You slapped her away so hard the sound echoed off the walls, “Call him that again around me and you’ll fucking regret it.” You growled. 

Lily stepped back surprised by your sudden aggression but not backing down, “Please y/n, I’m just calling it as it. The sooner you realise that the better.” 

Regulus felt his throat tighten as he listened, teeth biting into his lip as he had nowhere to look but his feet. 

    You stepped closer to your sister inches from her face, “Leave.” your voice struck heavy. 

    Lily responded just as harshly, “No.” 

    James shifted behind his girlfriend feeling like he was intruding on the fight which was taking place. Sensing his awkwardness you looked back at him with a searing gaze. 

    “Get out Potter, you have no place here.” You spat.

    He was planning on shuffling away when Lily turned back to him angrily, “No James stay.” 

You scoffed as he did as he was told, “Fucking pet.” 

“Don’t speak to him like that.” Lily scolded. 

“You're the one who's calling my boyfriend a purist.” You growled your mouth bitter at the taste of hypocrisy.

“Because he is one!” She bit back. “You really think he actually loves you after being raised how he was? With a mother like his?” 

Regulus felt like he had been slapped, his cheek stinging as the older girl spoke. 

 “Don’t you dare bring up his mother.”  You were shaking with rage by now, your face streaked with angry tears, “And how dare you speak ill of Regulus simply because of his upbringing as if his brother isn't one of your closest friends. How do you think Sirius would feel hearing what you just said?” 

This took Lily back a step, her rage cooling a bit as she realised her mistake, “It’s different,” She tried to recover, “He isn't with his family anymore. Sirius has already broken away from them. He made the choice any good person would.” 

Regulus felt her eyes on him as she spoke. She was no longer interested in her sister and instead focused on him. He felt like he was choking under the pressure of her stare. When he glanced up to meet her gaze he inhaled sharply. He hadn’t seen such hatred in a long time.

Your lashes were thick with tears by now, disgust and fury morphing your face, “Go fuck yourself Lily.” You spat.

She ignored you, gaze locked on Regulus, she had no intention of speaking to you anymore, “You stay away from her.” she demanded, “If you truly love her you stay away from her.”

You shouted lunging forwards and shoving your sister backwards. She stumbled back catching herself. 

It was you who fell, your feet tangling, forcing you to the ground. You hit hard, hands and knees scraping against stones and moss which made up the floor. You couldn’t find it in you to stand up simply letting exhaustion and misery take you where you lay. You shook with sobs, voice cracked and raw. Lily immediately dropped beside you, hands circling your neck as she drew you into a hug. You fought her as you always did but she held on, letting you beat her chest with your fists until you stilled.

Regulus took a step forward but was stopped by your sister whose glare told him everything he needed to know. Tears pricking his own eyes he stumbled past the two of you and disappeared into the darkness of the dungeons. He didn't hear James shout for him over the sound of the ring in his ears. He wasn’t sure where he ended up, somewhere deep in the depths of the sprawling castle, dust coated the staircase he collapsed onto. Only there did he let himself cry, choking sobs rubbing his throat raw as he looked for someone to blame. His mother for forcing him into the terrifying world of dark magic? His brother for abandoning him in his abusive home? Or your sister for pointing out the truth he prayed you would never see? Regulus wished he could pass the blame off to anyone but he wasn’t stupid, he knew he had no one to hate but himself. 

Regulus disappeared entirely for three days. Three days you spent desperately avoiding your sister who seemed just as adamant to talk to you again. You skipped meals opting for hunger instead risking meeting her in the hall. She would show up outside your classes forcing you to scramble out the back way or sprint away like a child running from punishment. 

On the fourth day of your boyfriend's absence you felt yourself beginning to panic. Fear of him never returning, filling your head with irrational thoughts. It wasn’t like you could ask around for him, your relationship needed to remain secret despite the difficulties you were facing. It was then Lily cornered you. 

You stared at the redhead as she blocked your only exit. “Lily, move.” You sighed exhausted by the past few days, sleepless nights not improving your condition. 

She didn't listen, “Y/n we need to talk.” 

"About what?" You scoffed, "I have nothing to say to you.” 

“I just want you to understand why I,” She paused, “Why I said what I did.” 

“I don't care why you said it Lily.” You said, “I don’t care if you think you were protecting me or saving me from some hopeless relationship. I honestly don’t care.” 

Her eyes swelled, “How can you say that? How can you not care? I love you y/n I just want you to be safe.” 

You stared at her, “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just let me be happy.”

“He’s dangerous.” 

You shook your head, “No, his family is dangerous. His situation is dangerous. He’s not.” 

“Y/n please.” She begged, for what you did not know. 

“Just stay out of my shit Lily.” you mumbled pushing past her and back into the hallway. 

You spent the night where you always had, the small courtyard hidden between two towers of the castle, a statue of a woman draped in vines and flowers at its center. The moon was a small sliver, a dusting of clouds blocking the stars from your view. The shuffle of footsteps brought your eyes from the ground. 

There stood Regulus, his face shining in the pale light. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, nose pointed at the floor as he refused to meet your gaze. 

You stood quickly throwing your hands around his neck. He leaned into your touch burying his head into your shoulder as his hands found your waist. 

You smelled delightful as always, your lips soft against his cheek and hands in his hair. Regulus hadn’t realized he was crying until you began to comfort him. Sweet words whispered into his ear as you only held him tighter. 

“She’s right, you know.” He croaked, lifting his head to look at you. “You shouldn’t be around me.” 

You shook your head feverishly, “You’re wrong Reggy.”

“I don’t deserve you y/n, I don’t deserve to be with you.” He sobbed, “I could never deserve you.” 

“You’re right, love.” You mumbled, smiling through the tears that coated your cheeks, “You deserve so much better.” 

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

taglist:@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @coldlilheart @suseptiable-bur-siriusexual @the-natureofme @trickylittlewitch @layaa-layaaa @rosieweasleyy @dracosgoodgirl @inglourious-imagines @princess-jules47 @daedreamss @d22malfoys

navi

[harryforvogue]

7′s the Number*

welcome to the divorced!harry fic!! warnings: OC has OCD, mention of a death of a parent, sexual content.

just another clarification: lucía, aka the OC, is NOT harry’s ex wife. they did not get a divorce. harry’s ex wife is a different person

please donate to my ko-fi here! like...please. donating is sexy.

this is 28.8k words because i have no self restraint. i don’t even want to think about how much i’ve written this year <3 as always, happy reading! and tell me what you think!

special thanks to @themeerkatnate​ for helping me out with the spanish bits, to @harryhoney-bee​ for her great grandma, and to @havinaballinthisbitch​ for being a pain in my ass

***

LUCÍA

They say staying friends with your ex is a gamble because you’ll always have intimate feelings for them. They never do go away, I’ll agree with that, but I didn’t think about that when Harry and I broke up only because I couldn't imagine life without him after he’d been with me for so long. Meeting someone like Harry was a privilege and I’m not saying that just because we were once together. What Harry brought to our relationship is what he brought to our friendship before and after we were together. His excitement for life put a smile on my face when nothing else would, and it continues to do so.

People say watching your ex move on is heartbreaking, and I agree with this too, but somehow, I’ve managed. He’s dated for two years after me. It’s been the same girl. I avoided being alone with them, for my own sanity, but slowly the burning jealous monster inside of me began to cool soon enough. It wasn’t an overnight occurrence. It took weeks and months, but that smile on his face made it all better.

Nothing, however, would have prepared me for Harry’s wedding day, marrying someone else.

He’s always said that he only wants to get married once because it’ll be with the right person. I thought that person would be me, but there he was, looking beautiful in his suit, combed back hair, and excited smile. He was unable to stand still for the entirety of the ceremony.

I recall it clearly. He sent me a nervous look and then furrowed his brow when he read the expression on my face. I wouldn’t be able to hide my hurt. His eyes went soft and then his expression turned apologetic. I wanted to tell him that I was happy for him, but standing there in the front row next to his sister and mother, I felt anything but happy. I felt stupid in my dress and makeup. I felt angry at myself for not fighting for him harder two years ago. I felt like the love of my life was slipping away and this was my last chance.

Say something, a voice in my head screamed. Say it now!

I opened my mouth. Harry raised his eyebrows and his eyes widened. I think he leaned towards me. But then the music began to play and his bride stepped into the room. I tore my eyes from him before he could, unable to stomach the look he was about to give her. My mouth closed and the ceremony proceeded.

This was a year and a half ago. They say that 50 percent of marriages fail, and most fail in the first two years.

Nothing could have prepared me for Harry’s wedding, but nothing could have prepared me for Harry’s divorce either.

***

November 1

I’ve been in weird places with Harry at the weirdest hours, but this is a new one. We’re in the bathroom stall, Harry’s hand hovering over the toilet holding a valuable item that should not seem all that important to him now, but he’s hesitating at the last moment. It was my idea to come here after all, the bathroom of a bar at nearly 2 in the morning, but neither of us are drunk and everything has come down to this. All the arguments, all the late nights, all the tears. It ends now.

We’re cramped in this stall, barely standing a few inches apart. I have a clear view of Harry’s face and all the emotions passing over his features. He’s sad, but also determined. Confused, but his mind is set.

His shoulders drop. “It’s fucking engraved in her grandmother’s handwriting. Jesus Christ.”

I poke his bicep, hard. “Don’t go soft on me now, Styles. Her grandma won’t care.”

He gives me a pointed look. “And how do you know that?”

“Her granddaughter ruined your life. I’m pretty sure she’ll let this one slide, Harry.”

“She didn’t…” Harry trails off, knowing I’m right. I nod at him and raise my eyebrows to acknowledge the ring in his hand. It’s a fancy one, gold all around with a neat engraving inside. He reads it one last time and then takes a deep breath.

“Okay.” He holds the ring over the toilet. In a voice that suggests otherwise he says, “I’m ready.”

I get into position, holding my finger over the flush tab. “Let’s do this.”

“Let’s count to five.”

“Let’s do three.”

I hear his sharp intake of air. “Okay. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“One, two…three.”

It happens quickly. He drops it and I swiftly flush it down before he can have second thoughts and then we both stand side by side watching the ring get flushed away. Somewhere behind us, a light bulb goes out and it’s suddenly darker in the stall. When I glance at him, I can barely make out his features, but the hard line of his mouth is clear.

Harry turns and looks at me when the ring is gone. He suddenly steps forward and holds his arms out, wrapping them around me and squeezing until I'm struggling to breathe. His neck is exposed due to his hair being tied out of the way, and my nose presses into the column of his throat.

“This really sucks,” he whispers in my ear. I hold him firmly to my front, gently guiding his head to my shoulder.

“I know,” I say, though I really don’t. “We can get through this. I’m sure of it.”

I hold him until he releases me and asks to be taken home. Since neither of us are drunk, it’s no question that it’s time to head back. What we came to do has been done, a mission gone not-so-smoothly, but successful in the end nonetheless.

Harry climbs into my car and sits with his head against the window.

As I’m driving, I glance down at his naked fingers, a weird unsettling feeling in my stomach. He’s too silent for my liking, but I can practically hear the relentless thoughts in his head joining in with mine. For the first time that night, I regret making Harry flush his ring. After all, it was my idea, and now that I ponder over it, worrying if I’ve offended him, I realize how dangerous the ground we’re treading on is. If he doesn’t say something soon, crack a joke or make a passing comment about how it’s funny that we keep catching red lights, I may have to say something. The worst part is that I don’t know what I could even day to make him feel better.

“Hey,” he says a little while later, sitting up. Relief floods me immediately. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

He pause, still glancing out the window. “When I was getting married, standing up there, do you remember when I looked over at you?”

Discomfort pricks at my neck. “Of course.”

“I think about it a lot. Your face, I mean.” I see his clearly when I stop at yet another red light and he turns his head towards me. I can’t read his expression well enough though, something that frightens me because I was once able to read him with a single glance and now I don’t have the ability. I recall bragging about it for years, but now I’m debating just how well I know him. “I remember it so clearly. You weren’t crying, but there was so much pain on your face. It’s like I’d just...I don’t know. Like I’d done something horrible to you.”

I don’t reply, focused on the red light. I stare at it until my eyes water. When the light turns green, I jerk the car into motion. Harry has to grab onto his arm rest. 

“You didn’t say it was me,” he continues, “but it felt like it was me. I’d done something, right? And I never realized it. I was so stupid for inviting you to that wedding.”

I swallow, looking down at the cup holder for a bottle of water to relieve my aching throat. “You don’t think I should have been there? On your happiest day?”

“I'd never seen that expression on your face before. And I haven’t since then. But it was there on my wedding day, and I’ve been thinking about it so much. If I could go back and avoid it, I would.”

Harry’s normally slow speech is even slower now, carefully saying each word. “You looked betrayed,” he says quietly. “Hurt.”

I bring the car to a stop in front of his house. “I was hurt,” I admit, reaching for his trembling hand. There’s no cold metal to prevent my entire hand from touching his. “But you were happy. It was either going to be you or me.”

“But I’ve been thinking,” he insists, squeezing my hand back, “about how I’d feel at your wedding. And I’ve only realized now how ugly the feeling would be. We’d been together for so long. We were always planning a wedding.”

I remove my hand from his grip. “I’m not going to sit here and make you feel bad for being happy. Because you were happy for years. This divorce is making you think of things that could have been, but we can’t go back and fix it, so why bother? You were happy with her. That’s a fact. You married her and that’s a fact. You got divorce. That’s the fact we’re working on digesting. You have too much on your plate to be worrying about me.”

“Do you…” he begins suddenly, “do you ever feel like we…”

His eyes widen and he stops, looking away as if he can’t believe what he was about to say. His shoulders fall again. “I’m so tired. Goodnight, Luce. I’ll see you soon?”

Disappointment grows inside me when he doesn’t continue. “Yes,” I assure him softly. “I’ll see you.”

He disappears inside of his house. I drive away with an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. It’s returned more than once since Harry announced his divorce, and I still don’t know how to identify it though it’s been weeks. When I get home, the feeling has settled deep within me and doesn’t show any signs of leaving.

***

November 7

It honestly seems like time is going by too fast and I’m not grounded like I was before. The sense of isolation worries me, but it’s what I’ve done to myself.

As soon as this month ends, it’ll be the anniversary of two separate events that have turned my life upside down, though one of those was caused by my own decision. Four years since I ended my relationship with Harry. Four years since my father passed away.

To make matters worse, it's been almost two years since I visited my father’s grave. Maybe it’s the guilt that’s piling up on me, or maybe that I feel like I’ve abandoned the one person who was always there for me. My mom has repeatedly telling me to come down to Ecuador to visit his grave. On the occasions that I call her, she always says, “Te extrañamos, mija” which makes me want to call her less because by that, she means to say both she and my father miss me. Tired of sobbing my eyes out every time she calls, I’ve decided it’s best for my own sake that we don’t call often. That doesn’t stop her from trying to reach me though.

Thinking about him too much makes my skin feel as if it’s about to erupt in hives. His lingering presence is around here, around me, but the thoughts of his apparition following me around makes me nervous. What if he’s still stuck around here? I’m not particularly religious, but at these times, I wish I'd been able to follow a religion and believe in something at least.

I wonder if this is how Harry feels, because if so, if we are connected through this miserable, helpless feeling, I don’t think I could ever help him.

The picture of my father on my desk has been turned down. At first, I turned it around so I wouldn’t be able to see it while I worked at my desk, working through paperwork upon paperwork since the pandemic has made me rely on working from home, but I’d see his crinkly smile and bright eyes as I’d approach my desk. I’m not at the stage where I’d like to remove him from the wood altogether, but I can’t stand the feeling of his eyes on me, watching every dip of my pen, every line I make with my art tools, every breath I take. I already feel his eyes everywhere. I can’t stand this.

For weeks, I didn’t get any work done, but now that he’s no longer looking at me, I can work.

My laptop takes most of my attention on weekdays. Typing has become a little harder for me recently. If I make a typo, I must delete the entire sentence and rewrite it. It takes so long to write a single email. I must attach and delete the attachments repeatedly until I can slide over the attachment in a single go and not accidentally drop it from my cursor. I need to hear a good click before I can send the email. The “enter” button on my keyboard has been stuck recently and it’s been driving me insane.

It’s the same with writing. If I’m writing a quick note on a notepad, if the letters are unreadable, I’ve got to discard the post-it altogether and redo it. It’s incredibly time consuming. I’ve wasted so much paper these past few months.

I enjoy my job thoroughly, but it’s been feeling like a chore recently. I’ve rearranged my office twice in the past week. I’ve cleaned my desk multiple times so everything feels right. Something bad will happen if I don’t. I don’t know what it would be, but I’d rather take the precaution. It’s always been like this, the discomfort slowly becoming a background characteristic of me. It’s just been worse recently.

My therapist says to just stop. Stop giving into the temptation. Stop rewriting sentences. Stop flicking the light switch until it feels right. Stop refusing to put my phone down unless all five of my fingers wrap around the width of it. Stop refusing to sleep until I’ve checked that my alarm is on three times. Stop counting.

“I’m trying,” I’ve been telling her. “I really am.”

“Keep trying,” she says. “Eventually you’ll see that nothing bad happens.”

I’m not sure about that. I’ve been doing everything my brain has been telling me. I haven’t explored the idea of not doing something. I can’t do it. I can’t explain it, but I just can’t walk away from an intrusive thought like that.

I swivel back in my chair, laying my head back. My mind wanders back to Harry. I should invite him to stay over for a few days while his ex wife packs her stuff. He’s been so scared about running into her. I understand. But, I am also selfish and I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from becoming intimate with Harry once more. And that’s the one thing he does not need.

I have to be his friend. I cannot be thinking of myself at a time like this when Harry could be, arguably, doing worse than I am. How did this happen? Just over three years ago, everything was falling into place. Our early twenties looked bright and the future was even more exciting to ponder over. What kind of adventures would we go on together? How much more money would we have to save in order to treat ourselves when necessary?

Well, life certainly works in mysterious ways because three years ago, I never would have thought I’d be in this type of predicament. I know life can be difficult and that people come and go, but I didn’t expect to be the type of person to stay hung up on important people I let get away. When Harry and I broke up, I told myself that it was for the best, for both of us. When my father died, I thought it was for the best that he’s in a better place. 

But now, four years later, I’m wondering if I’ve made a mistake thinking the people who have left were right to leave.

***

November 10 HARRY

It’s snowing. Not enough to stick, but enough for the roads to become slippery and the bridges to be encased with ice. When the temperature drops, I usually feel a lot better. I don’t like how hot it gets even in Boston. Though I’ve been in America for years, I’ll never fail to get excited at the sight of the snow. Winter is the best season, especially when it comes in strong. The hot days of summer blend into each other making me dehydrated and, oddly enough, feel lonely. But the winter makes it all melt away. 

I’m supposed to be working on quarterly budget reports for work, but there’s something else taking my attention. It’s the last bit of paperwork before the divorce is finalized. I was filling out the forms just a few moments ago, but since I’m left handed, looking at my bare fingers became too jarring and, frankly, a little bit depressing.

So now I’m just staring at the half filled forms and thinking how much trouble I’d be in if I packed up all my belongings tonight and decided to flee to England. I still have some family left there. I’m sure I could combine some savings and buy a flat. Rent, even. Get a dog so I’m not lonely.

Unfortunately, almost all my family is now in America, so parting from them will be difficult. Not to mention Lucía might kill me altogether.

Speaking of Lucía, I’ve got to ask her what’s been going on with her. Ever since I broke the news of the divorce to her, she’s been focusing so much on helping me move on, I've forgotten to ask how she’s doing. I’m grateful she’s my friend during these tough times, but recently, there’s been something dark in her eyes, something on the tip of her tongue that she’s held herself back from saying.

And it’s almost December. December is brutal to Lucía.

Given my position with the relationships in my life, I don’t think I should have a say in how she addresses hers. Not with my wife still harassing me about the forms I haven’t finished.

Wife. She’s made the word become so bitter in my mouth. As soon as she’s changed her name back and decided to move out, I imagine things will be a little easier, but for now, I’ll have to withstand the tight feeling in my stomach.

I’m 27 years old. I’ve been married for less than two years and here I am losing sleep over a divorce. There has to be something wrong with me. How have I made bad decision after bad decision? These thoughts torment me at night as I’m too busy with work and court dates in the morning and afternoons. My choices have taken a negative toll on everyone around me, and there’s nobody to blame but myself. I was in a sane state of mind while making these decisions, so how come the consequences are hitting harder than any other stupid thing I’ve done in my life? How did I decide that I was ready to settle down so early? How did I just agree to the divorce so easily without going to therapy or seeking a second, third, and fourth opinion? How did I let Lucía walk away from our relationship in a single night? Everything’s happening around me. This is my life, yet I am not in charge of it at all.

I push the forms back into their respective manilla folders and get up to brew some strong tea. Snow is still falling steadily, snowflakes dissolving as soon as they touch the ground. There’s puddles of water forming around the sewers on my street. All the lights are bright and some people have begun to put up Christmas lights already.

After tea, I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Then, I carefully wash my face and then look up into the mirror. Gliding my wet hands over my face, I check for any inconsistencies. My eyes look a bit swollen and perhaps a little jaded. My mouth looks the same with the small mole beside it. My cheeks look a little less full than usual and my collarbones seem to be sticking out just a bit more than I’d like. My dark circles are the worst of them all.

Then, I glance down at my hands. They look relatively the same as before, with the exception of the lack of gold band around my third finger. I wiggle my fingers a bit and then peer at my face again. Physically, I’m pretty much the same person. Just a bit weathered. That’s alright, I think to myself. People get divorced all the time. They make it out alive. You’re different now. You’re a divorced man. You’re no longer a married man.

Back in my room, I look at my king sized bed. I never had one before, even when I lived with Luce. We both fit comfortably on a queen size, and we didn’t spend a lot of time away from each other at night either. I always felt pleasantly suffocated on that bed with her, and I enjoyed every moment of it. This bed is much larger and I feel suffocated in a different way, as if I’m drowning. When I sit on it, I immediately sink in. Luce always claimed to have back issues so our mattress was more firm than this one. This mattress is comfortable, though very unsatisfactory.

I lay right in the middle, because I’m allowed to now. I feel small and then think of the person who can help me feel better. I’ve made it a mission not to bother her so often, but on days I feel terribly lonely, I become selfish and think only of myself. Sometimes, I wonder if that is the reason for her ending things with me.

***

LUCÍA

Tonight’s not a good night. I’m standing in the shower, focusing on my breathing instead of the temptation, but what if this is the time that the worst happens? The conditioner bottle in my hand nearly slips when I put it back down, taking a few seconds to brace for the worst. Nothing happens. Hot water sprays onto my face and burns my skin, but aside from the discomfort, the catastrophe that I expect doesn’t happen. My shoulders slowly begin to relax, breathing a little evenly. It’s okay. I can stop showering now.

Somewhere in the other room, I hear my phone ringing. My eyes open immediately and fear grips me as I glance down at the conditioner bottle, praying the ringing stops. 

Stop. Stop!

It’s not stopping!

As soon as I snatch the bottle up again and squirt more product into my palm, the ringing stops. Oh, God. Was I too late? No, I couldn’t have been. It was only ten seconds. Ten seconds, not three or seven. Ten is an awful number. Why did I wait so long?

So for the third time that night, I begin to condition my hair, rubbing the product through the ends of my curls. If I condition too much, they’ll become dry and brittle, but I can’t stop my hands. Three times isn’t so bad, I end up thinking to myself. At least it’s not seven times like two weeks ago. I cried so hard while detangling my hair in the morning.

When I’m out of the shower, I check my phone, only to be horrified because it was Harry who had called. And recently, I’ve been trying to save Harry from getting hurt. Is it finally this time?

Panicked, I call him back and begin pacing in my room. He picks up on the fourth bell and says, “Hey. Sorry, I thought you were busy. Then I realized it’s 10 at night.”

“Are you okay?” I press, holding the phone anxiously. My hair’s dripping water onto my floor and as I pace, I nearly slip. “Are you hurt?”

Harry was very confused when we first started dating. He didn’t understand the correlation between the state of my relationships and the obsession that came with numbers for me. I couldn’t explain how it had started or why, but that it was going to be a factor in this relationship. Over time, Harry’s become very accustomed to it.

So much that he laughs a bit. “Yeah, Luce. I’m good.”

“Stop laughing. It’s serious.”

He doesn’t sound serious at all. “I know. Thanks for worrying about me. What was it this time?”

“Fuck you. I had to condition my hair three times.”

“And why about me?”

“I don’t know. I just felt like if I didn’t do it, you’d blow up or something. And at first, I didn’t do it because--”

I hear his smile. “Because you don’t care about me.”

“No! Because my therapist says to try to break out of it and see that nothing happens when I don’t give into the temptation. And I tried that, but then you called. And I got scared.”

“Alright,” Harry replies softly, no longer finding it funny apparently. “I’m sorry. But, I’m fine. Thank you for worrying.”

“Shut up.” I can’t help but smile too, finally feeling a little better. “Are you good? It’s pretty late.”

Harry exhales deeply like he’s just settled into his couch. “Yeah, I’m good. I was going to ask if I could come by your job tomorrow. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“That sounds very ominous. You know I don’t like that, Harry.”

“I promise it’s not bad. I’d just like to see your face when I ask you.”

This makes my heart beat a little faster in my chest. “Oh. Yeah, just come before my first meeting at 11, okay?”

“I don’t have to come if you’re busy.”

“I’m not busy.”

“Alright.” He takes a deep breath. “That’s all I had to say. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Okay. Bye, Harry.”

“Bye, Luce.”

There’s a pause right before we hang up. There’s always one. In my head, I tell Harry that I love him and I like to think that Harry’s doing the same. The pause lasts for three seconds before I hear him pull the phone away from his ear and end the call. I tuck my phone away under my sheets and then get ready for bed.

Thankfully, brushing my teeth doesn’t take too long and drying my hair too. And when I lay in bed, I find that sleep comes to me easily. Thank goodness, because I don’t think I could survive yet another sleepless night.

***

November 11

There’s a lot to do at work today. With the impending snow storm on the way, my department head believes the office will have to shut down for at least a day, if not more. The building itself is old so when there’s a big storm, there’s a high probability that the lights will go out and it takes hours of maintenance to revive the building.

I have a job interview in a few days. I want to be the new department head when the current one gets a promotion. I’ve been prepping meticulously for it and I have a team to help me get ready for the interview with corporate. Nearly every day, I meet with them at 11 o’clock to go over my key points over what I’d change as the new boss and how I’ll put my plans into action.

My phone goes off when I’m just getting into my key notes for today’s meeting.

“Harry Styles is here to see you. There’s no appointment in the book. Should I send him in or ask him to schedule an appointment?” the receptionist says.

“No, no, just send him up.”

Harry arrives at my office at 10:30 and sheepishly places a hazelnut latte gently in front of me. “I know. I’m pushing it with the time. I can tell you’re in a bad mood.”

I’m feeling a little nervous and trying to avoid caffeine, but I know how hard it must have been for him to get the coffee, especially with the weather outside. He still has some snow in his hair. I take the coffee and sip it, appearing disinterested.

“Did you get me a donut?”

“No,” Harry says, grinning, as he pulls out a bag and tosses it onto my desk. Two pumpkin donuts. 

“Hmm. Good enough. Sit down.”

Harry sits down, fixing his shirt as he does. He crosses his leg over the other comfortably and then rests his hands in his lap. Whenever I see Harry, I like to note the differences from the last time I’d seen him. His under eye circles are still very prominent.

His hair is still drying from his morning shower, face clean shaved. His clothes are neatly pressed, a spark in his eye. I feel proud just from looking at him. I hope he feels the same looking at me.

“I’m alright. Got a court meeting tomorrow about dividing our assets. It’s a bit annoying now.” He hesitates suddenly and then leans forward, placing his laced hands on my desk. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I know you don’t have a lot of time, but I’m occupied tomorrow so I’m just going to fit it in now.”

“Sure. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, no, everything’s good.”

“Alright. What is it?”

Harry opens his mouth and inhales, but then stops. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. I know Harry well enough to be able to tell when he’s stressed and his discomfort oddly eases my thoughts of not being able to read him anymore.

 “I wanted to ask you last time, but I guess we were a little busy,” he starts, glancing down at his bare fingers. “You can totally say no because I understand how weird this is and I don’t want you to feel pressured because I’m your friend, but I also want you to consider it, alright?”

I put the coffee down and reach for the donuts and take a big bite. “Sounds good.”

“Alright, well.” Now he looks uneasy. He cracks his knuckles. “I was wondering if it would be okay to stay with you for a little bit.”

I swallow the donut. It goes down the wrong pipe and I cough a bit. Harry looks concerned. With tears in my eyes, I croak, “Is the demon bitch kicking you out of your own apartment?”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up and his mouth curves into a small smile. “What? No. It’s not that. She’s almost fully moved out actually. I haven’t seen her in a while. It’s just that, well, the apartment is meant for two or three people, you know? So now that she’s not there, it’s just big and empty. And I’m barely there except to sleep. I just… I don’t know. I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

There’s a pink blush over his cheeks, giving him a healthy glow on his otherwise pale skin. His summer freckles are long gone now, but the new color looks lovely on him. “I don’t mind,” I find myself saying, “if you stay at mine for a bit. But it’s a little cramped and it’s meant for one person.”

“I don’t mind that,” Harry says quickly, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s not the space I’m worried about. I’ve never been there but I’m sure it’s a great space. I guess I’m more concerned about…”

“Staying with me,” I finish, putting the donut down. I wipe my hands on a napkin, but choose to do it under the desk because my fingers are trembling.

“Yeah,” he says sheepishly, scratching his neck. “I don’t want it to be weird. But I also don’t want to be alone and I’d rather be with someone I know than be alone.”

This is one of the many times that I realize I don’t fully know how Harry’s been handling the divorce, only because I’ve never been through one. I’ve been through break ups, the worst one being with the person sitting in front of me, but never a divorce. After all those years and vows and sacrifices. It’s beginning to dawn on me just how lonely a divorce must be. She’d rejected him and the last thing I want is for Harry to feel unloved.

He isn't. I’m the one who loves him.

And not only that, but I know Harry’s nature after being with him for so long. He’s emotional. He feels hurt deeply.

Harry assumes my silence is a sign of discomfort. Immediately, his eyes widen. “Like I said, you don’t have to agree. You can even take a day or two to think about it. I’m not...I’m not forcing you. And I know that this is really weird because you’re… you, Luce. We have history and I’m not trying to open any stitches or do anything to hurt you. And-and you can totally tell me if I’m disrespecting boundaries because I’ve done that in the past without realizing. I just want to be comfortable and I want you to be comfortable, so be completely honest with me. It won’t make me upset or angry or anything, yeah?”

Fuck, he’s freaking out. I can see the vein in his neck bulging from lack of air. He begins cracking his joints again. I crack my own. Two on one hand, two on the other.

“That’s not the problem, Harry,” I tell him sincerely. “I don’t mind you staying with me. I think my concerns are the same as yours, that we’ve lived together before and we’re not exactly dating anymore so what if it’s awkward?”

“I promise I will stay out of your way and not bug you when you’re working and leave you alone. Like I said, I’m barely at my own place, so I don’t think I’ll be at yours much anyways except to sleep.” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “I’ll pay for rent, Luce.”

I shake my head, offering him a smile. “I’m not worried about rent. You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but if I’m using your apartment, it’s the least I can do.”

“You can buy the groceries.”

“Sure, I can totally--” He pauses, inhaling slowly. “Are you agreeing to this?”

Having Harry as a roommate again? I can do that. It’ll only be for a little bit. I can keep myself off of him. I’m agreeing to this, aren’t I? This is a bad idea, but he’s looking at me like that. Like the first time he considered we should move in together when we had been dating. Such hopefulness in his eyes. Such excitement and nervousness.

How could I say no to him when he’s looking at me like he’s completely dependent on me? I want him to be dependent on me, but it’s irresponsible of me when I’m struggling to take care of myself. Should I be selfish again and refuse him? Or should I give it a try?

In the end, the only selfishness that proves to be triumphant is when I think about Harry’s close proximity to me. And I love the idea of being physically close with him.

“Yes,” I answer, reaching for my donut again. “We can make this work.”

Instant relief breaks out onto his face. He smiles wide and runs a hand through his hair. “Thank you, Luce. I promise I won’t get in your way, okay?”

“I don’t mind,” I insist sincerely, wishing my heart would stop acting like it’s about to stop. “I hope your living habits have changed from before.”

Harry stands up and shakes his head. “They haven’t. At all. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t come tonight though. I’ve gotta clean up.” And freak out privately. “How about the day after tomorrow?”

“That’s perfect,” he breathes, leaning over the desk to press a quick kiss to my cheek. He glances down at his watch at the same time my phone’s alarm begins to ring, signaling that I have to leave for the meeting soon. “Thank you. I’ll let you go to your meeting now, but seriously. I owe you a bunch. Bye!”

And with that, Harry’s out of my office and I’m taking a bite out of my donut once more. This is fine, I think to myself. Everything is going to go smoothly.

I feel the weight of his lips on my cheek throughout the hour-long meeting. I am a very selfish woman, indeed.

***

November 13 HARRY

I thought sleeping in the king sized bed was lonely, but nothing hits the bottom of my stomach like pulling out a duffel bag and beginning to pack. It dawns on me only an hour into packing that the bag was originally bought for the purpose of vacationing, but here I am, using it for the first time to get away from my wife. 

She’s not here tonight, which is ideal because running into her has been terribly awkward and in no way avoidable. Since there hasn’t been much communication between us in recent weeks, I’ve been on edge about when she’ll decide to pop up. I know she won’t be sleeping in the apartment, but I also don’t know if she’s here while I’m at work. I do know she’s here, however, by some miracle, we’ve run into each other only a handful of times. And those times have made me incredibly uncomfortable.

I decide to pack quickly. Whatever I end up forgetting will be borrowed from Lucía or bought new.

Speaking of which, I’ve packed for at least two weeks. It doesn’t seem like much, especially when I lift the duffel bag and realize how light it is.

I don’t know how long I intend on staying with Lucía or how that whole dynamic is going to work out. But I’ve been so uncomfortable these past few weeks that if the feeling is going to follow me everywhere, I might as well be uncomfortable with someone who lessens that feeling for me.

As I continue to pack, I think of how her house must look. Knowing her, she’s meticulously cleaned every crevice of it, though I’ve told her nobody probably notices. I’ll make a special effort to mention the clean apartment though.

Before I leave, I throw out products that will expire in two weeks time. I haven’t seen her use any of the dairy, but every time I open the fridge, there’s less there. Apparently she’s bought some new cartons of milk recently and when I pick them up, they’re completely full. I bring them to the sink and hold the fresh milk over the drain, ready to spill, simply out of spite.

Then, I hear my mother’s voice in my head telling me to let go of grudges. And I put the carton back in the fridge.

***

Lucía’s place is closer to my office, which will work out well for me. I plan on just dropping my bags and leaving so I can head to work this morning. I don’t see any reason why I have to go into work late. 

Lucía clearly thinks differently about this. Especially when she opens her door, still in her pajamas, hair unraveling out of her hair tie. And she wears the most irritated look on her tired face. Her expression is shadowed and the side of her cheek has a print of her pillow pressed into her skin. Compared to her, I’m dressed in a sweater and jeans, more suitable for the weather.

“You’re upset,” I carefully note. “What have I done this time?”

When Lucía’s extremely angry, she can’t bring herself to talk. It’s a weird thing about her and I’ve laughed at it before, but it does not seem like a laughing matter this time.

She grounds her teeth and hisses, “It’s 6 in the morning.”

“Yes,” I answer cheerfully. “Hey, can I come in? It’s really cold.”

She’s shivering already from the cold air I’ve brought inside the house. I push my way past her, dropping my bags. “Hey, this is a really nice place.”

“I’m going to strangle you.”

“Did you go to sleep late? Why do you still do that? Look, I got you donuts, alright? So don’t be mad at me, woman.”

Lucía looks at the donuts with distaste and then narrows her eyes and snatches them. “I am going to sleep for an hour more. Do not wake me.”

I’m not going to, wanting to keep all my body parts intact. Instead, I do the only acceptable thing since I have some time to spare. I make myself a cup of coffee and begin snooping.

To be fair, I’m not going into depth with my detective work, simply scoping the place and trying to see what’s different about the way Lucía sets up her apartment. When we lived together, she was never particular about how we decorated, leaving that completely up to me (with the exception of her office which she swore if I ever entered without her permission, she’d maim me, but I never blamed her because I hate people messing around with my work when I’m absent, too.). Since the interior decorating was mainly on me, I designed the apartment how I would design it if I were living alone and it worked quite well. Hence why I’m interested to see what she’s done differently. I begin with the kitchen.

It’s the basics, with her kitchen island in the middle and a few stools perched around it. There are four, but only one looks slightly worn down which suggests she doesn’t have many people over. As soon as I realize that, I look around for pictures on the walls of her friends or family. Surprisingly, as opposed to her desk at work, she doesn’t have any of those up, just a few paintings and wall decor that I could have picked out myself. In fact, I would lean towards these abstract works of art rather than scenic, so I think that perhaps I’ve had an influence on her taste.

Still, it’s peculiar that she doesn’t have any framed pictures, despite her having lived in this apartment for two years. The living room has a TV in the corner and a regular sized couch with a dark grey throw flung over the back cushions. I sit down and cross my legs. I would snoop in her room if that were allowed. But then I remember she’s most likely prepared a room for me, so with newfound excitement, I’m back on my feet to check out my new living space.

Remaining completely quiet as I pass the bedrooms, I realize she hasn’t exactly told me which bedroom is mine, so it’s a guessing game between these two adjacent rooms. Both of the doors are closed. I go for the one on the left.

Lucía’s fast asleep on the bed, burrowed in her blankets with her head and curly hair peeking out. My hand tightens on the door handle, but I can’t seem to move, either into the room or away from it. She’s got the same troubled expression on her face that’s always there when she sleeps, despite her having a good rest. She’s not having a bad dream, I know that much, but one look at her and I immediately want to press the crease away from her forehead like I used to years ago.

Not allowed, I firmly remind myself, swallowing. I take a step back and shut the door behind me. Well. It’s got to be the next door, doesn’t it?

It’s a decent sized room with clean white sheets spread over the bed, a window behind the head board, and a joint bathroom. There’s a twist in my stomach at the sight of the empty bed. I don’t feel like snooping anymore. I go to the kitchen to make myself breakfast. I can’t get the image of Lucía asleep out of my head. Definitely not while I’m painfully aware of the fact that she’s only a few steps away. 

***

When she’s finally awake and less likely to hurl something at my head, she walks to the kitchen, grabs her water bottle, and then plops down beside me in the living room.

Despite the fact that she’s dressed and has her makeup and jewelry on, her face still tells me of how tired she is, not only by the puffiness of her eyelids, but the dark circles under her eyes. She blinks sleepily at me and then takes a big gulp of her water.

“Must be nice,” she says, resting her head back against the couch, “to have all that hair to warm you up.”

I tuck a strand of my curls behind my ear, aware of her eyes following my hand. “I mean, I’m going to put it up anyways.” I also open my mouth to tell her she has longer hair than me, but it’s already in a bun as always.

“Why? Looks nice out like that.”

I shake my head and smile at her, leaning my head back as well. “It’s annoying sometimes. Easy to put up. I’m too attached to it to cut it.”

Lucía sighs deeply and sips at her water again. “I don’t want you to cut it.”

The decision of mine to not cut it only solidifies with her words, which causes me to pause and reassess the true weight of her words on me. I immediately made up my mind after the words came out of her mind. I turn my head to glance at her; she’s idly looking at the ceiling fan.

A crease forms between her eyebrows and she picks her head up. “Why is the fan on? It’s 15 degrees outside.”

“20. And you know how hot I get.”

“You’re so weird.”

“You’re living with it now. Can’t back out now.”

“Right.” She sits up and yawns. “We’ve got to get going.”

“You won’t eat anything?”

“Can’t eat in the morning. You know that.”

I do, but I was hoping that had changed. “Want me to buy you anything on the way there? We can stop somewhere.”

Lucía’s fixing her collar when I say this and she pauses, frowning again. “You’re driving me to work?”

“Well,” I say, standing up and grabbing my keys from the coffee table. “You’re on my way, so do you mind?”

Either Lucía’s mind works slowly in the mornings or she’s taking her time to consider the answer to this proposal. “Can you drive me everyday?” she says, to my surprise. I smile and nod. “Okay, then yes. You may buy me something on the way. Everyday.”

“You’re trying to make my pockets hurt againn.”

“Yes,” she says, completely serious. “I am.”

I gesture for her to walk in front of me and once we’re both outside in the cold, I sit in the already warmed car as Lucía locks the front door.

“Do you like your room?” she asks, buckling her seatbelt.

“Yes,” I answer, thinking back to how I’d opened the door to the wrong room. I think about her warmth under her sheets, the hairs on my arm rising. “I love it. Thank you.”

She makes a sound in the back of her throat that suggests she’s proud of herself. “Good.”

I tap my fingers along the steering wheel when we wait at a red light. Lucía has busied herself with figuring out what music we need to listen to for our first drive to work together. When the light turns green, I begin driving to Lucía’s favorite coffee shop. She picks her head up and glances at the building as it comes into view and I don’t need to be looking at her to know that she’s much more awake now. She sits up eagerly and is already unbuckling her seatbelt by the time I’m parked in front.

“Go on,” I tell her, putting the car in park. “Get me a coffee.”

She opens her door. “Same order?”

I pause at how nonchalantly she says it. As if remembering my order from 4 years ago is not a big deal. “Yes. Do you remember it?”

“Of course I do.”

Lucía hops out and adjusts her coat before placing a hand in her pocket. She’s checking if she has her wallet because she refuses to buy a bag for it. She carries it in her pocket, attached to her keys, which I distinctly remember scolding her about years ago because if she ever misplaced that small wallet, she’d be losing both necessary possessions. But, clearly, she has refused to listen to me. She pulls out her wallet and then disappears inside the shop.

She returns a few minutes later with a cup holder in one hand. “Here you go,” she says, passing me my coffee, tucking herself between her thighs to warm her up.

“Thank you.” I take a cautious sip. “You do remember my order.”

“Of course I do,” she repeats, thinking nothing of it. She takes a sip of her own coffee and then sighs, melting into her seat. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Your order is very easy to remember. Not to mention I always got you coffee when we were dating.” Her voice falters at the last word and she glances at me through the corner of her eyes to check if I’m alright with the mention of our history.

As soon as she reminds me that we once dated, I realize just how close we are in this car. And so alone.

“Right,” I finally say. “Don’t expect me to know your order though. It used to change frequently.”

I place the car in reverse and drape an arm behind her seat, carefully maneuvering the car out of the parking spot. 

“It changes almost every week. I no longer like hazelnut lattes.”

“I got lucky, then.”

“Yes. You did.”

Lucía finally finds a good song for the ride and continues to sip her coffee, letting out small “ah’s” whenever she swallows. Intrigued, I don’t say anything, but I’m thinking about how her habits haven’t changed over these years. I don’t know if the feeling in my stomach is discomfort, hope, or nostalgia, but whatever it is, it amplifies every time she swallows her drink and makes that noise.

Her lips must be incredibly warm after having them attached to the top of the cup during the entire ride. My hands absentmindedly tighten around the steering wheel.

“Luce.”

She turns to look at me. Her eyes are wider and less puffy. It’s a miracle what a cup of coffee does for her. “Yeah?”

“I have a court date on the 17th. Four days from now. We’ll talk about dividing our assets so once we decide on the apartment, I’ll let you know when I’ll go back home.”

Lucía is quiet for a while. She taps her nails against her cup. “You don’t have to rush. You just got here today.”

“Right.” And I’m losing my mind already. “But I don’t want to impose on you for too long. I’ll be out as soon as I can.”

“I really don’t mind, Harry. Would you like me to come to court with you?” When I glance at her with uncertainty, she clarifies, “For moral support.”

“Yeah,” I answer, shooting her a smile. “I’d like that.”

She nods and turns back to her coffee, taking a longer sip despite how hot the beverage must be. She lets out the small “ah” and I have to focus on all my face muscles to reduce my smile because it only continues to grow listening to that soft sigh.

Arriving at her building, I pull up to the front and watch her get out. “I’ll be out by 4, okay?” she tells me, leaning down to reach the window. “When do you think we’ll go home?”

“I’ll be here by 4:15. Same spot.”

“Okay. See you.” She gives me one more smile before turning away and entering the large building.

As I’m driving away, a shiver runs through my body despite the blasting heat in the car and the warm coffee settling in my stomach. When do you think we’ll go home?

***

As promised, I arrive to pick her up at 4:15. She’s walking outside with one of her coworkers, talking to him animatedly. No doubt she’s explaining something of importance to him so I wait for them to finish their conversation.

Something heavy lands a blow into my gut when Lucía laughs and rests a hand on his shoulder before stepping away and heading towards my car. By the time she’s at my door, I think I’ve concealed the expression on my face well, offering her a smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi. It’s very cold,” she whispers, holding her hands over the air. “I am so hungry. Let’s order take out because I can’t be bothered with cooking right now.”

“Sure, Luce.”

She peeks at me as I pull out of the parking spot. Wordlessly, she reaches over and takes the AUX cord, attaching it to her phone. “You okay?”

She’s allowed to like other people. I would be a prick to deny her of that right, especially since I found myself married not even two years after that December night.

“Of course. I’m pretty hungry too.” I was, but I don’t have an appetite anymore. I swallow, in hopes of drowning the ill feelings deep down. “Let’s get some food.”

We have dinner and the discomfort I feel is momentarily gone. I listen intently as Lucía talks about her day, carefully chewing her food in between her words. She drinks her water in intervals of 3. Her throat works to swallow the liquid and I’m constantly catching myself staring and end up forcefully tearing my eyes away from her.

As I sit across from her and listen, I can’t help but examine her face. She’s tired, not only physically, but it seems emotionally too as she takes long pauses between her words to gather her thoughts and continue. She describes in detail how she has been trying to get a promotion, however, she’s been so stressed about the outcome because while she likes her job, she believes she can do better in a higher position with more access to managing her software department. Her mascara has leaked down to her under eyes, causing them to appear darker than normal. Her lipstick is a bit smudged and the collar of her blouse open.

After I’m finished telling her that my day was “fine”, she gathers our plates and puts them in the sink.

“I’ll do the dishes,” I tell her, gently steering her away. My hands have automatically latched onto her shoulders, but I drop them quickly, in fear I’ve made her uncomfortable. They land on her waist instead, which is a hundred times worse, and then I pull my hands back to my side. “Ah. Sorry. Here, move over.”

“I can do it,” she argues, thankfully not thinking too much about my touch. If she is dwelling over it, I certainly can’t see from her face. “You’re my guest.”

“I’m taking over your house, Luce.”

“I’ll wash, you dry.”

“I’ll wash, you dry,” I counter, to which she agrees.

“Fine.” She stands on my other side and waits for the water to begin running. There are a few cups and plates from this morning. “How do you feel about the court date?”

Her eyes watch unashamedly as I roll up my sleeves. “I feel fine.”

“Yeah?” Then, she hesitates, focused on my tattoos on my forearms. “Do you cry?”

I raise my eyebrows. “At…at the court dates, you mean?”

“Mhm.”

“No. I haven’t shed a single tear over this divorce.” She glances at me warily and I laugh. “I have no reason to be sad about it. The only thing I do feel is sorry.”

“You feel sorry for yourself?”

“Incredibly.”

“But not about losing her?”

“Not a single bit. What? Don’t look at me like that.”

Lucía begins drying the plate I’ve passed to her. She goes over the surface many times and then the back. She puts the plate away for two seconds before picking it up and drying it again. “I just think you have to be emotional.”

“I have to be?”

“Yes,” she says, tucking the plate back. “It’s healthy.”

“But,” I argue, passing her the next plate, “I don’t feel bad.”

“But you must feel something if you’re here with me, Harry, instead of being at your own place.” She meticulously dries the next plate. “I mean, it’s a divorce. It’s a huge change. You can’t just be okay with it. I’m saying that it’s okay to not be okay.”

She quietly tucks the plate away and takes a cup from me. “Sorry if I’m overstepping. You’re my friend and I have no idea what you’re going through, but I think you need to be in touch with your emotions.”

“Luce, you know better than anyone how in touch with my emotions I am.”

She sighs and puts the cup down on the counter. “You need to cry.”

“Alright, step on my feet or something.”

“Harry, I’m serious.”

I rinse my hands and turn to her. A muscle in her jaw tenses. She has the same crease between her eyebrows that she does when she sleeps.

She says, “I want you to be happy.” And then she steps forward, slowly wrapping her arms around my torso, pressing her forehead to the hollow between my neck and collarbones. For a second, I’m frozen, my heart beating wildly in my ears. When she presses her cheek against my neck, I forcefully ground myself and relax, succumbing into her embrace. Though my hands are wet, she doesn’t mind how cold I make her skin through her thin blouse, gathering her closer to me.

“You’re right,” I say quietly, inwardly begging my heart to slow down. I lean against the counter, tugging her with me. Her knees brush against mine. “It is a very big change and I hate it. I wish it never happened, but I’m glad it did at the same time. I don’t want to be with a woman who isn’t faithful to me. I’m not asking for a lot, so don’t you think I deserve better?”

She pulls away and insists, “Of course you deserve better! But you’re still allowed to be angry at her or upset with yourself! I don’t want that, but it would be healthy.”

Her dark eyes have always been painfully hypnotic to me, and this intense look she’s giving me has the same effect. I smile and slowly tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Listen,” I tell her softly. “I do feel a lot right now. I’m here with you because I couldn’t stand being alone in that house. Not because I miss her or I wish I could fix things, but because I feel lonely. I’m lonely, Luce.”

Her mouth curves down. “It’s okay to be lonely sometimes, as long as we know how to fix it.”

“That’s not fair. You don’t get to tell me that with how lonely you are. What have you done to fix it?” I ask gently.

Her eyebrows pull together, alerting me I’m in dangerous territory. “That’s different.”

I drop my hand and cross my arms over my chest instead. “How so?”

“Because it was my choice! I like to be alone. Don’t look at me like that. It’s true. You didn’t have a choice in the divorce.”

“I signed the papers first. I initiated.”

“No, I mean, there’s nothing you could have done aside from divorce.”

“There’s nothing I would have wanted to do either, Luce. Divorce isn’t something that just happens overnight. It was a bunch of things and her cheating on me was the final blow that made me walk away. This was also my decision. And I’m not upset about it, I’ve already told you.”

“But you’re lonely!” she repeats exasperatedly.

“I can’t be lonely if I’m here with you,” I reply, raising an eyebrow. “I have you.”

“And when you go back? You’ll be lonely, won’t you?”

“I don’t know what type of answer you want from me. Yes, I will be. Not because I miss her, but because I miss having someone around all the time. And I’ve accepted that. I’m okay.”

Something suddenly changes on her face, and she takes a step back. Her expression is completely unreadable, yet guarded. “Is that how it was after us? With you being lonely?”

I open my mouth to immediately reassure her, but she frowns, conveying she doesn’t want anything sugarcoated. My shoulders drop and I take a few seconds to search for the right words. “Yeah, Luce. I was really lonely. But the difference was that I missed you. I don’t miss her. And honestly? That breakup hurt a hundred times worse than this.” Oh, God, I need to stop talking. I need to shut my mouth right now. “So just think. If I made it out of that alive, don’t you think I’ll come out completely unhurt with this one?”

I’ve said the wrong thing. I can tell by her face that she’s not heard anything I’ve explained after mentioning our breakup. She swallows, taking another step back, now refusing to look at me, which I find incredibly frustrating. I’m itching to grab her and bring her back to me. “I’m sorry,” she quietly says, rolling her heel absently. “I didn’t know I hurt you so bad.”

This conversation has made my head hurt with confusion and now I can’t remember how we turned this on ourselves. No amount of reassurance will put the words I’ve already said back in my mouth. So instead of trying to ease her worries, I answer, “It was a long time ago, Luce.” I don’t try to tell her that I’m fine now, because I don’t think I could summon a lie like that and make it sound believable. “A lot has happened since then.”

Finally, she picks up her head and nods. “Yes. It was a long time ago. We’ve grown, I think.”

“We have.”

She returns to her position besides me and picks up the discarded wet cup, beginning the process of drying every single crevice. I take the hint and start washing the dishes again.

After a tense silence, I say, “So you’re not going to kick me out or anything, right?”

To which Lucía surprises me with a slight smile and a shake of her head. “Of course not.”

And after we’re finished, we part and she heads into her room while I’m left in mine. I sit on the spare bed. Unpacking my bags seems exhausting. So I leave them by the closet and get ready for bed. Despite my proximity to her, I feel even more distanced now, laying in a separate bed.

I turn to open the window behind me and remove my clothes, slipping into bed. My eyes remain focused on the wall separating us until I’ve fallen asleep.

***

November 17 LUCÍA

And I can't decide if I’m happy or sad that living with Harry has been easy. We’ve settled right into a routine that is suspiciously similar to what it was when we were together. Perhaps I’m happy now and dreading the moment he leaves. There’s just something about seeing him as soon as I wake up that makes me ready for the day. 

There’s also something about Harry smiling softly at me in the mornings with a murmur of “Good morning, Luce. Did you sleep well?” along with those gentle eyes, wet hair from his morning showers, and well pressed professional clothing. It’s different than seeing him later in the day when he’s less fresh (but still attractive). Seeing him in the afternoon and evenings makes my heart swell, but seeing him in the mornings, freshly shaved and still smelling like his aftershave does something else to me. Something I thought I repressed a long, long time ago.

But mornings aren’t the only time I feel that type of raw urge around him. It happens in other more inconvenient times as well, such as when he leans against the counter in the evenings when I’m finishing dinner and he wants to talk about his day, or when he’s driving and he glances at me with a soft smile, working on the steering wheel with one hand. When he comes to me at night to bid me goodnight, or when he’s tying his hair up and I can’t help but think of how his soft curls would feel between my legs.

I want to know how he kisses and if it’s still the same way as he would four years ago. I want to know that if he hugs me, will his arms still wrap around my waist and will he lean down to make up for the heigh difference? I want to know that if he ever undresses me again, will he start with my shirt because he still finds me irresistible in just my bra and jeans? And when we cuddle, would he still engulf me with his entire body and make it so I wake up, unable to breathe? Is his favorite way of relieving stress still what it used to be, with me in between his legs? 

But then, I think about only him. His old habits. Does he still make that face when he tries something sour, the face where his expression pinches and then he coughs? Does he still stand under the shower for a few minutes just to get warm before reaching for the shampoo? Does it still take him only 3 minutes to shave? Does he still dog ear his books instead of buying himself a new bookmark?

I want to know all of this. And it’s only been a few days.

Today, I’ve driven myself to work because I’m going to meet him at court after work. He’s been missing all morning, to my disappointment. But I’m also glad he wasn’t there to witness my panic over ironing my clothes exactly 3 and a half times on each sleeve, back and front, which resulted in tears. Given that start, my morning has not been fun at all, but draining.

Now, I’m excited to see him. I arrive at the city building right before his appointment at 3:30.

I’ve seen many versions of Harry. I’ve seen him glowing with a grin splitting his face, I’ve seen him cry until his body aches, I’ve seen him tremble with pleasure, and I’ve seen him scared with eyes as large as they can go, but I’ve never quite seen this Harry. 

He’s quite off today, but nobody can tell unless they look at him carefully, reading his body language. Physically, he’s looking really nice in a dark navy blue suit and white open collar shirt. His hair is tied neatly and securely out of his face. As promised, there he is, waiting for me, leaning against the pillar of the building. He’s on his phone typing away, and when I reach him, he tucks his phone into his pocket and says, “Mum’s wishing me luck. She says hello.”

Harry pushes his body off the pillar. “Hi.” I notice he’s checking what I’m wearing and I awkwardly pull my coat tighter around me.

“I didn’t know what to wear,” I admit, glancing down at my tapered pants. “I didn’t change after work. I’ve never been to court, so I hope it’s appropriate enough.”

“I’m sure it is. You won’t be in the room so it’s not too big of a deal,” he says, checking the time. He’s distracted. “Anyways. We should head in. I’ll walk you to the waiting area, yeah? I think she’s already here because I didn’t see her come in.” He finally looks at me. “I’ll try to be quick, okay? And then we can get something to eat.”

I nod and offer him a smile. He opens the door and heads in, leaving me to trail behind him. He’s holding a manila folder close to his side, drumming his thumb anxiously against it as he walks. He doesn’t look around for directions on where to go, clearly having been inside this building before. He navigates the halls easily and then stops at an elevator, leaning in to press the UP button.

The building seems deserted. My heels make a loud sound as we walk into the elevator and then the doors close around us. Harry hits the number 3.

I can’t help but peek at him, though the lighting in this elevator is subpar. His eyes are focused on the display showing the levels, arm clutching the manila folder tighter against his side. The scent of his aftershave has died down a little, but if I concentrate, I can still smell it.

“You okay?”

Harry’s eyes flicker to mine briefly and he sends me a faint nod. “I’m fine.”

“You sure you don’t want me inside the room with you?”

“No, Luce. It's fine.”

He’s not in the mood to talk, so I simply wait patiently beside him. When the doors reopen, he takes the lead once more and takes a right, leading me to a room that looks like a waiting room in a doctors office. He gestures to me to head inside and takes a deep breath.

“I’ll come get you in a bit.”

I nod, stepping into the room. “Alright. I’ll see you.”

Harry hesitates a bit, glancing down the hallway he’s about to walk down. It’s the first time I see a crack in his confidence. His throat jumps as he swallows and then he takes another deep breath.

“Okay. I’m off.”

Harry shows no sign of leaving. Instead, after a brief moment of hesitation, he reaches out and grabs my elbow with a large hand and brings me closer, ducking his head. He presses a kiss to my cheek and then tightly hugs me to his chest. He doesn’t say anything and I’m unable to either as he knocks the wind out of me with the grip around my body. I hear his thundering heartbeat under my ear, the warmth of his body rolling off and hitting me square in the chest.

“Thank you for being here.”

My own heart’s beating out of my chest already due to the close proximity, but I can’t let him go just yet. When he goes to move away, I refuse to depart from him. Instead, I yank the collar of his shirt so he’s closer and tell him firmly, “You’ve got this. I know you do.”

His eyes darken just the slightest bit when I release him and he takes a step back. The corner of his mouth twitches, he says, “Thank you,” and then he’s out the door. I see him fixing his collar as he walks down the hallway.

Falling into my seat and crossing my legs, I press my hands to my hot cheeks. It’s been a long time since he’s been that close to me, and everything feels the same despite all this time. Harry and I see each other on a regular basis, however, sometime during his relationship with his ex wife, he stopped embracing me or pressing those friendly greeting and departing kisses to my cheek. I understand why, but I never realized how much it upset me until now.

The last time he’d kissed me was the day I accepted his idea of moving in with me, and even then, I’d thought about the feel of his lips on my cheek for days after that. This is different.

Harry’s love language, I found out early on in our relationship years ago, is touch. At nearly every waking moment that we were together, I’d find some part of Harry touching me. I became used to his touch very quickly. His warm, heavy embrace calmed me whenever I had a burst of anxiety or stress.

How did I end up losing that touch? He touched me everyday and then he stopped altogether. I ended our relationship and he stopped touching me. I’d call it cruelty if I didn’t bring it upon myself. How have I survived this long without his touch? 

I lean forward and bury my head into my palms, resting my elbows on my knees. His strong grip has left a lasting feeling on my arm that I’m thoroughly enjoying. I can’t be thinking about Harry again. I’ve kept those feelings locked away since Harry announced his divorce months ago. He’s in no position to be subjected to my feelings for him right now. He can’t handle it. I can’t handle it! This should not be a matter of importance.

***

As promised, Harry returns just 20 minutes later and gestures for me to hop out of my seat. He looks a little disheveled, or rather, more than usual.

“I’m starving,” he mutters, holding the door open for me. “Let’s eat please. You pick the place.”

He steers us towards the elevator and jabs the button quickly. His foot taps impatiently as we wait for the doors to open and when they finally do, he places a hand on my back and all but shoves me in. Then he turns and slams the button to shut the doors.

I stare at him. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Just not too keen on sharing an elevator with my ex wife.” He hits the ground level button. “Officially my ex wife.”

“Are we running away from her?”

Harry presses his tongue to the corner of his mouth and I realize with a gasp that he’s hiding a smile. “She freaked out about the ring. And when I say freaked out, I mean she threw a tantrum. I swear if there was nobody there, she would have slashed me with her heel. She was talking to me about it as I was packing up so I’m sure she’s not too far behind us.”

“What? Oh, God. Is she going to chase after us?”

Harry’s grinning now, shrugging a shoulder. “Don’t know. If we have to run, I’ll get away from her, but you might not.”

We both look down at my shoes. I tap them nervously. “No, she won’t do anything.”

Harry stutters out a laugh. “I hope not.”

“You’re having a lot of fun, aren’t you?”

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he confirms when the doors open. When we step out, we hear her heels, fast and rough against the tiled floor.

“Harry--!”

Harry grabs my elbow and tugs me towards him, steering us towards the entrance. “Just keep your head down.”

Unfortunately, keeping our head down does nothing because his ex wife’s loud bellow of “Don’t you dare run from me, Harry!” echoes through the lobby. 

Harry tilts his head down towards my ear and quietly says, “Think you can run?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Come on. Here, wait. Take them off and give them to me.”

We stop, just briefly, and I bend down to quickly undo the buckles, all but tossing the shoes to him once they’re off. Harry holds them with two fingers and glances behind him.

His hand touches my back again and he gives me a startling push. His longer legs encourage me to break out into a run, his hand sliding off my back and wrapping around my wrist instead. “Come on.”

His ex wife catches up significantly, her face looking like it’s about to combust. I haven’t seen her in so long. There’s a fire in her blue eyes as she yells his name again. “I paid for that fucking ring! I gave you yours back, now you give me mine!”

“She doesn’t know you flushed it?” I whisper.

To my surprise, Harry’s still laughing. “Nope.”

“Oh, God.”

Harry leads us towards the parking lot and glances over his shoulder. “Damn, she runs fast. Let’s go to my car.”

He unlocks it quickly and we part to get to our respective sides. He throws my shoes in the back.

“Don’t run her over!” I hiss as Harry begins to pull out of the parking spot. I grab onto his sleeve. “Look both ways. I don’t want to catch a case.”

Harry shakes off my hand and grabs it instead, holding it between the console.

“I won’t,” he laughs, navigating us safely from his ex wife. “Holy hell. I married her? Why’d you let me do that?” 

“I didn’t tell you to!”

“Someone should have stopped me. As my best friend, I think that was your duty.”

“As if you would have listened!”

Harry smiles, pulling out of the building’s parking lot, taking a deep breath. “We’re in the clear.”

“My car is still there!”

“Hush. We’ll get it afterwards. I’m starving. Even more now.”

We’re still holding hands in the middle of the console. Harry flips the indicator and then brakes at a stop sign, tapping my knuckles with his thumb absently in perfect rhythm, waiting for a break in traffic. I don’t make any effort to stop him or remind him this isn’t what we should be doing. His hand feels fitting in mine, soft and cold from the winter air. With the summer sun no longer around to tan his skin, his hand looks pale, and significantly more so with mine under it.

Nothing happens for a long time, the afternoon traffic causing us to stay behind the stop sign for well over two minutes. Should I be the one pulling away? He doesn’t notice our hands clasped together. It’s his hand that's heavy on top of mine, holding my fingers towards my palm.

I peek at him. He looks much better than earlier with clearer eyes and a dimple in his cheek as he bites into the inside of his cheek. I momentarily admire his outfit, my eyes falling down to his thighs. My jaw clenches as a memory passes through my mind. It’s a memory of his hands tightly holding my waist hard enough to bruise my skin, guiding me over his bare thigh tattoo, our bodies slick with sweat, the sound of our groans and heavy breathing bouncing off the walls.

There’s a break in traffic. As he’s been struck, he suddenly sits up, more alert. The suddenly movement makes me sit up as well, broken out of my daydream. Harry slowly draws his hand away, putting both hands on the steering wheel, driving onto the main road.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him, clasping my hands together in my lap. There’s a bit of awkward silence before I say, “Um, where should we get lunch?”

“Uh, I’m good with anywhere.”

“Okay.”

Harry’s phone goes off suddenly and he fishes the device out of his pocket. His ex wife’s name flashes over it.

He takes a deep breath and presses the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

I can hear her yelling and Harry winces, pulling the phone away from his ear. “I don’t have it anymore. Jesus, could you lower your voice? I said I don’t have it anymore. No, I didn’t sell it. I… Okay. I got rid of it.”

When she screeches, Harry pulls his phone away from his ear again, throwing me a comical look. He’s still enjoying this!

“Right, well I can’t do anything about it now. You can have your ring back, if that helps. I’ve no reason to keep it. Yeah. I’ll leave it in the mailbox. No, I'm not living there at the moment.” He glances at me again. “With Lucía. Yes, that one.” His jaw tightens suddenly and his eyebrows push together. “You didn’t have to say that.” And then he hangs up, placing his phone in his pocket.

“Sorry.”

I shake my head. “Don't be.”

He hesitates, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Feels like I’ve dragged you into this.”

“We’re friends, Harry. I’m here for you.”

“Yeah,” Harry says quietly, pulling into the parking lot of one of my favorite restaurants, “We’re friends.”

***

November 20 LUCÍA

The clock is very loud tonight.

After every 5 ticks, I hold my breath until the 6th one is heard, but I’ve been doing it for so long that I feel lightheaded. It’s been half an hour of me laying here. I’ve tried to put in my earbuds and listen to some music, but my body is tired and now I have a headache even though I was only listening to some soft classical music. Turns out that that specific genre only helps me when I’m more awake. My body is sinking into the mattress with fatigue right now, but that stupid clock is somehow getting ridiculously louder and I’m losing my mind. I can’t fall asleep on the 5th tick. I’ll tolerate any other number, but not five.

After a few moments of misery, I force myself up and throw my legs over the bed until I reach my slippers. There are earplugs in the room Harry’s sleeping in. I can sneak in there, grab a handful and come back and sleep before my meeting. Or, I can suffer through this night and then sleep better tomorrow. Or I can take the clock apart.

The third option doesn’t seem that smart, especially since I sleep with my phone away on the dresser and I need to look at the time when I wake up. And I really need to focus for the meeting tomorrow, so option two isn’t the brightest either.

I stand up. We’re going to his room.

It’s 2 in the morning so he should be asleep, but regardless, I’m on my tiptoes as I approach his room. His door is slightly open as it always is and the cold gust of air immediately greets me when I slip in. He’s opened the windows! In this weather! The man’s going to get sick.

Luckily, he’s sleeping on his side with his back to the drawer I’m now crouched in front of. As I’m rummaging through the drawers, I realize that Harry’s clock is far less noisy than mine. It’s just as close as mine is, but less audible. I could steal it if I wanted to.

But I won’t do that. I redirect my attention back to the drawer and begin pulling things out, setting them aside as I continue to look for the earplugs. The more I check, the more upset I become because I can’t find them. I don’t have my phone to turn on the flashlight and look with a bright light either, and I’m really cold in my pajamas thanks to the stupid window. A few snowflakes have already hit my skin and made me shiver uncontrollably.

Irritated that I’m not going to sleep tonight, I push to close the drawer. Unfortunately, I end up underestimating my annoyance and end up slamming it shut, the loud noise reverberating off the walls.

“Shit!” I whisper, whipping my head to glance at Harry.

His curly head picks up off the pillow and he twists his body to glance into the darkness. He might not be able to see me, but I can see him as the moonlight reflects off his face perfectly. When he pushes himself up, the weighted blanket around him slips to display his bare shoulder and collarbones.

“Luce?” he whispers, pressing a palm to his eye.

Maybe if I pretend I’m not there and stay as still as a statue, he’ll put his head back down. 

“I can see you.”

Shit. I wrap my arms around myself, looking at him sheepishly. “Hi. Sorry. I was just looking for earplugs.”

At the sound of my voice, he picks his head up a bit more and then fully turns his body to face me.

“Why are you on the floor?” he asks quietly, clearly wanting to fall back asleep. “What’s...what’s the time?”

“It’s like 2. I was looking for earplugs,” I repeat. “My clock is being really annoying and I need to sleep before this meeting. But it’s alright, I’ll go back to my room and try again.” I balance my hands on his mattress and go to stand up.

“You don’t have any more?” he asks, watching me stand.

“No. I’ll get some tomorrow.” My attention is now divided. “Actually, can I steal your clock? You can have mine.”

Harry’s eyes finally fully open and he throws me a bewildered look. “My clock? What’s wrong with yours?”

“Nothing. You can have it.”

“Luce, either I’m still asleep or you’re not making any sense.”

“It’s too loud, okay?” I admit, sighing. “At this rate, I can get 6 hours of sleep and I need those 6 hours. I don’t know what to do.” I pick my head up and curiously look outside. “You think 7/11 is open during a storm?”

“Luce,” Harry says in an incredulous tone. “You’re shivering. I don’t think you could survive the walk.”

“Well, your window is open!”

“Right, but it’s always open. Come here. Sit on the bed at least. Jesus, woman.”

When he sits up some more, the blanket continues to slip down his torso to reveal his bare chest. I quickly look away.

“Sit,” Harry repeats more firmly.

“I can run to the shop.”

“I doubt anything would be open right now. It’s not supposed to stop snowing until 5 at least.” He stretches and yawns deeply. “Just sleep here then.”

I freeze, and for once it’s not from the cold. Harry’s rubbing his eye again with his palm, yawning again. I immediately feel guilty for waking him up. I know how deep of a sleeper Harry can be when he’s extremely tired.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” I quickly apologize. “I’ll let you sleep. You’ve got work too.”

“It’s fine,” Harry mumbles in his deep, sleep-filled voice. And then, to my surprise, he lifts the blanket and lays back down, holding it up as an invite. “Go on.”

I glance at the empty spot besides him and then the time and then the snow building up outside. “I don’t… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“‘S your choice. I don’t mind. It’s your house anyways.” Harry’s eyes are already closing and I feel like a burden just sitting here unable to make a decision. He’s nearly drifting off and I’m taking up his space.

But the clock in his room is barely audible and yes, it’s cold, but I know how heated Harry’s body can be. That mixed with the heat from the weighted blanket will send me straight to sleep. If I decide not to, I’ll be awake all night. I could take the clock in my room down, but then I’ll have to sleep with my phone under my pillow because I don’t have a nightstand like Harry does. And I’ve read too many articles about radiation and how harmful it is for your skin cells.

I peek over Harry’s shoulder. His phone is faced down on the nightstand. Another pro. It seems like the most logical choice.

“I need an alarm on,” I quietly tell him. “For 7.”

“I have one for 6:30. I’ll wake you after thirty minutes.”

“Okay.”

I shut the window and lock it. My slippers easily glide off my feet and then I tuck my legs into the blanket, slowly sliding my body down. Harry hisses when my feet touch his shins and he quickly reaches out and grabs my calf, pushing it away.

“Christ. You’re so fucking cold.”

“Sorry!” I whisper. I look at him, unsure. “Can I have a pillow?”

Harry raises his head and slides me one as if it's the most natural thing. I tuck it under my head. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“Let me know if I’m taking up too much space.”

“Go to sleep, Luce.”

“Okay,” I say, turning around, bringing my knees to my chest. Warmth invites me as I relax into the mattress. The sheets smell like Harry already. I feel his heat though he’s on the opposite side of the bed. His thigh is barely touching my heels.

And then, just for a brief moment, I’m freaking out. My palms are sweaty and I’m hyperaware of Harry’s body besides mine, somewhere it hasn’t been for years. Blood rushes in my ears and my throat’s as dry as it was in the car days ago. If I move in my sleep, I’ll accidentally touch him. He might be offended. I should get up and just leave.

I push back up into a sitting position and go to swing my legs over the side of the bed, but what stops me aren’t my own thoughts or the reminder that Harry’s clock is much softer than mine. No, it’s a sudden weight around my thigh, a familiar weight, and a man’s gentle whisper.

“Luce. Please sleep. We’ve slept in the same bed before. As friends too.”

His hand on my leg is arm and proven to be strong as he begins to tug me back to the mattress.

“I promise I’ll wake you,” he tries again faintly, as if he’s just a few moments away from sleep. “You need to sleep better. You’re like...like a zombie every morning.”

I can’t help but quietly laugh, rubbing my eye. “That’s so mean, Harry.”

“Lay down and sleep. I’ll stay on my side, alright? You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re making it worse on yourself. Stop hurting your body. Just lay down before I make you.” His tone lightens towards the end of his threat, but when he raises his head again, he can barely open his eyes.

The thought of being the reason for Harry’s dark circles in the morning makes me finally slide back into bed. I couldn’t carry that guilt. Harry removes his hand from my leg and then sighs, tossing his head back down onto the pillow. He mumbles something along the lines of, “Stubborn woman.”

To my relief, it’s easier to fall asleep that I’d anticipated, now that the anxiety has worn off. Or perhaps I’m just too tired to care. 

Finally, I think to myself as I’m beginning to drift, drowsiness hitting me like bricks. I’m so warm. I’ll get up nice and refreshed, take a hot shower, get dressed, and do well for this presentation. I’ll come home after, make some good dinner, and then buy some earplugs and melatonin. Everything will be okay.

I’m nearly asleep when someone pushes the blanket further up my shoulder and tucks it under my chin. That’s better, I hazily think to myself. That’s so much better.

***

November 21

Harry’s arm is heavier than I recall, or maybe it’s just because I have blocked his weight and sleeping habits from my memories. Or perhaps that I’ve come to terms that I’ll never wake up to his situation again.

Regardless of how I’ve processed memories with Harry in the past, the pressing matter right now is that his arm is heavy on my stomach and I’m struggling to breathe.

I try to shove his arm lower, but then it’s pressing into my bladder, so I gently pick it up and move it back to his side.

The sun’s just barely out and no alarm has gone off. The clock tells me it’s 5:30. I’ve only been asleep for a little over 3 hours.

My first mistake is turning my head back to look at Harry. He sleeps with his hair up, something I never would have guessed about him. I swear he had it open last night. It’s a mistake because suddenly, I can't take my eyes off of him and my chest feels tight as if I can’t get enough air into my lungs. With his hair out of the way, I have a perfect view of his face. His eyebrows are relaxed, lashes resting beautifully against his cheeks, chest moving evenly with each breath. He’s simply mesmerizing. He’s on his side, the other hand shoved under the pillow we’re sharing, and the pillow part is the only thing that makes me realize that I’m on his side. He didn’t come to me, but rather I shifted towards him. Or maybe it was his doing, with his arm over my body.

The second mistake I make is turning my body around fully to face him because the movement causes his eyebrows to twitch and then he lifts his eyelids slightly, just enough to peer at me. I freeze, holding my breath, hoping he falls back asleep, but instead, he slides his arm back over my waist and gently tugs me closer.

“You’re cold?” he mutters, voice deep and groggy. He’s already closing his eyes again when he tucks me into his chest. “C’mere.”

My heart feels weak. I don’t want to move away, and perhaps it’s my third mistake that I settle into my new spot against his warm body. If I was cold before, I’m not anymore and there’s no chance I will be for the next hour and a half that I’ll get to sleep. He rests his head over mine, takes a deep breath, and then seems to have fallen asleep.

I don’t try to glance up at him, in fear that I’ll wake him again. Instead, I close my eyes and remind myself, strictly, that friends can cuddle with each other. Friends...who are also exes. This is normal. It has to be. It’s not like I can wiggle out of his grip now.

***

The next time I wake up is when Harry’s alarm goes off. It doesn’t feel like I’ve slept, but the sun outside is brighter, reflecting off the snow I presume. The warmth of Harry’s body slowly slips away when he goes to turn his alarm off, and then he sits up.

I hope I can sleep for half an hour more so I keep my eyes closed. Harry seems to be lounging in bed for a while, not jostling me too much. In fact, he moves to the other side and allows me to have my own pillow. I can feel his thigh against my head.

For a few moments, he’s completely still, and I think I have the opportunity to fall back asleep. However, he then puts his phone back on the side table and slides back into bed. I can feel him pulling the blanket back over his body.

When I open my eyes, he’s laying on his back, one arm resting over his eyes.

“What happened?” I ask quietly, clearing my throat. He lifts his arm and glances at me. And he’s a sight to behold. His eyes are puffy from sleep, his chest peeking out from under the blanket. He could be a painting. My heart isn't even fully awake, yet it's pounding painfully against my ribs at the mere glance at him. I look away, wanting to give him privacy and myself a momentary break from the emotions I've been feeling since last night.

“Office closed,” he says sleepily, rubbing his eye. “The storm hasn’t stopped yet.”

I push myself up, aware of his eyes on me, and check out the window behind the bed. Sure enough, the snow has piled up high enough to cover the benches outside and the wind is still blowing, now with a whistle to it. “It looks lovely.”

I reach for my own phone to check if I have any messages.

“My office is closed too!” The relief I feel is instant, I immediately slide back down into bed and bring my knees to my chest, my back to him. “We’re snowed in.”

Harry chuckles. When I glance back, his eyes are closed again and he looks as if he’s ready to fall back asleep. “We are. Now go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t need to tell me twice.

And I’m about to fall back asleep, toasty warm, when Harry says something again. He murmurs, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I wasn’t able to keep my hands to myself. It’s a habit I haven’t been able to break since we… sorry. Usually I have another pillow, but you happened to be on the pillow, so...”

So it was his doing, I think to myself, slightly proud for not being the one to give into the temptation of touching him. I remember the Harry I'd met 6 years ago who hated cuddling at night. I'd transformed him immediately with my constant need to be held by him while sleeping. I shake my head. “It’s okay,” I tell him honestly. “I really didn’t mind.”

I feel him move my pillow as he nods. There’s a beat of silence that follows it, but then the bed’s dip becomes more apparent, along with the closeness of his body when he slides further into bed. And then with a soft, hesitating touch, he places his arm back where it was before, draping it over my waist.

My eyes shoot open to glance down at his tattooed arm, but I don’t dare to say anything. I don't even dare to breathe.

Harry says softly, “Is that alright?” My stomach erupts with both anxiety and butterflies.

I was warm before, but now I’m comfortable again. I nod and slowly slide back to make the position mimic how it was when I woke up the first time. “Yes.”

“I don’t want to make this weird,” he quietly admits, voice laced with sleep. “I haven’t slept well in so long and like this… I just sleep a lot better.”

 “It’s okay, Harry.” I think I’m saying this. “We’re friends.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to the back of my head. “Thank you.”

Falling asleep like this feels addictive and I would be worried about this becoming a regular thing with an ex boyfriend if I weren’t so damn comfortable. And I agree with him. I sleep a lot better like this too. 

I feel his soft breath on my neck and the firmness of his chest against the back of my shoulders. It feels right. The tension in my stomach is long gone before I fall back asleep.

***

Struck with deja vu the next morning, I find myself awkward and unable to do the most simplest of tasks. Such as walking around Harry to get to the coffee pot or apologizing to him when our fingers brush against the handle or when I’m reaching for a plate and accidentally get two, not realizing it until Harry points it out.

I’d woken up in the bed alone and I got up to get ready for work before I saw Harry’s well pressed pants, shirt, and tie hanging outside his closet as he always sets up before heading to bed the night before. He’s always claimed that he has no time to pick out outfits the morning of. I suspect he just wants to be better organized because he’s always lounging around before work anyways. He’s incredibly punctual yet early at the same time, a skill that I don’t think I will ever master.

He’s been generous in letting me sleep in, something I rarely ever do. His side of the bed is still warm and his pillow is resting vertically against the headboard that suggests he sat beside me for a while before getting out of bed.

When I find him in the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in his loose sweat pants and tighter long sleeve shirt, he sends me half a smile and says, “Good morning.”

I pause in the threshold of the kitchen, gripping the frame a bit too hard. He looks heartbreaking. I take him in as quickly as I can, alarmed by my shifting emotions. Just a month ago, I thought I was fully over Harry. How stupid was I?

I’m not sure how good of a morning it is. It’s a little awkward, and I’m trying my best not to step on his toes, but when I’m finally in the dining room with my coffee and scrambled eggs, I glance up at Harry, aware of his eyes already on me. He raises his eyebrows and wordlessly asks me what’s wrong.

My eyes then fall to his hands, his fingers tapping around the rim of his own mug, bare fingers pale and long. The clock behind my head is relentlessly loud and I suddenly consider taking it apart, as I’ve done to multiple other clocks in this house. All of it is so familiar, as if Harry and I have been in this time and space before, and when I look at him again, his eyes are softer.

“You’re freaking out,” he says, taking a slow sip from his coffee.

“Am I?” I reply, suddenly taken aback by how guarded I sound. “I am not. What would I be freaking out over?”

“Last night,” he easily supplies, placing his cup back down. “It’s alright. I wanted to apologize for it anyways. It was really unfair. Should have just given you my bed and let you sleep.”

“No. I should have just slept in my own bed. Especially after finding out that our offices were shut down.”

And as I’m saying this, I suddenly recall why this space between us feels so familiar. So awkward, yet manageable. It’s almost December, the month that my father died, and the month that I broke up with Harry almost four years ago.

He sees my expression shift. “Really, Luce,” he tries again, “it won’t happen again, so don’t freak out. Don’t kick me out, alright?”

I ignore that. “Do you remember the morning after we broke up?”

He pauses, eyes suddenly shaded and showing signs of concern. “Every second of it.”

“Do you remember how awkward it was?”

“Painfully so.”

I bring my cup to my lips, taking exactly three identical sips. “It was like this. How this morning has been. This is our morning after routine.”

He doesn’t say anything more, but I can tell my words have settled in his head when his frown eases and the hard lines of his mouth relax. He hasn’t shaved this morning, I think to myself, but he looks different for another reason. It’s the lack of dark circles under his eyes. He looks younger than he has in recent weeks. Well rested.

But finally, when he does speak, his tone is laced with humor. “It’s weird that it’s happened twice. But I think that if we’re able to get through the first awkward morning alive, we can get through this one too. After all,” he leans in with sparkling eyes, “we’ve been here before.”

“You know, most people would consider this super depressing.”

He leans back and pushes his sweater sleeves up his forearms. If he’s aware that my eyes are glued to his strong arms, he doesn’t say anything. His tattoos slowly reveal themselves one by one, and I sit there, simply and shamelessly drinking him in. “Well, let’s not spend our day off becoming depressed. How about we go out?”

“To shovel snow?”

“No no,” he smiles, crossing his legs. “Let’s go to the pond.”

The pond. It must be apparent how I feel about the place based on my expression. How much I resent that place, though I loved it once.

It’s where I broke up with him. I haven’t been there in 4 years despite it being one of my favorite places to visit. It’s walking distance, behind my house. Every time I walk or drive past it, it’s impossible to stop my stomach from falling as I recall all the good and bad memories I've made there. Harry has those same memories.

My eyes narrow and I tuck my shaky hands under my thighs. “Why the pond?”

Harry’s smiling even wider when he shrugs and raises his cup to his lips, raising an eyebrow at me from over the rim. “For old time’s sake?”

***

I don’t have anything to do today and with no excuse to present to Harry, I step out into the snow with my windbreaker, boots, scarf, and gloves. At first, it’s not that cold, but when a strong gust of wind blows after Harry’s locked the door behind him, I immediately regret not coming up with a good excuse.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he grabs my elbow and creates the first footprints in the snow and tells me to step into them. I wobble behind him and together, we wait for the snow plow truck to pass. I realize Harry’s still holding my arm tightly as we cross the street, making sure we both stay close to the curb on the road rather than the unshoveled sidewalks.

“We should have hot chocolate when we get back,” he says, finally dropping my arm. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself.

“I should take cold medicine when I get back.”

Harry grins at me. “You’re not getting sick. You’ve lived in Boston for 8 years and you’ve yet to fall sick in the winter.” He gives me a pointed look. “Now, your allergies are a different discussion. You’ll be fine.”

“The pond is going to be frozen,” I remind him, picturing the beautifully translucent ice. “There won’t be much to see.”

“I think there will be plenty to see.”

I peek up at Harry. The tip of his nose is already pink, his eyes watery from the wind. His pale skin looks beautiful, matching with snow piled up behind us. I look down at my gloved hands and then push my jacket up slightly to look at my own, tanner skin at my wrist. I push the sleeve back down when the wind blows, nearly knocking me over. Harry grabs my hoodie, pulling me back, laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me!” I hiss, smacking his hand away. 

He holds his hands up in surrender and looks back at the street.

The temperature reminds me of how warm Harry’s body was, the heat engulfing me so well throughout the night. Not once did I feel uncomfortable or cold last night. He’d bundled me up, pressed his front against my back. And I’d let him because there was nothing more I wanted in that moment.

We arrive at the pond just a few moments later, and as I assumed, the water is completely frozen. It’s a large field of undisturbed white snow and Harry makes fresh footprints for me to follow, my legs sinking into his steps. He doesn’t grab my arm, but he does hold onto my jacket tightly. I don’t ask how far he’s taking us, because I know he’s interested in seeing the ice formed over the water. As expected, he stops at the water and then sits down on the fluffy snow.

It's beautiful, like a winter wonderland. The willow trees surrounding the area are covered in snow, icicles hanging off their stems like a fairy's house. One time, I'd come here with Harry, and he'd stood under those icicles, teasingly telling me nothing would happen to him, but I recall being terrified about the sharp points and how he'd bruise if they fell on him.

“Sit,” he tells me, smiling up at me. His eyes squint. “It’s not that bad.”

“I won’t be able to feel my ass afterwards.”

“You’ll be fine, Miss Dramatics.”

Reluctantly, I find myself sitting beside him. The cold hasn’t pierced my jacket yet and made my ass freeze. He brings his knees up to his chest and I do the same.

“It’s been a while since I was here,” he says, looking out at the pond. The city municipal has turned the fountain off and rightfully so. “Years, I think.”

“It’s been four for me,” I tell him quietly, thinking about all the fish and turtles in the water. Where have they gone?

“You never came afterwards?”

“No. I didn’t want to.”

Harry makes a sound in the back of his throat and then gathers some snow into his hand, creating a packed ball. He throws it into the pond and watches how the snow breaks as soon as it hits the ice. “I came here once a few springs ago. I think it was two years ago.”

I can’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. “With her?”

I suddenly can’t look up at him, afraid I’ll want to feel the warmth of his body again. There’s clearly a reason why his ex wife didn’t want us to embrace like normal friends. Perhaps she always knew how attracted I was to Harry years after our break up. I never thought it would be out of jealousy, but more out of possession. If Harry were still mine, I think I’d be the same way.

But Harry’s not mine. Why must I keep having to remind myself of the painfully obvious fact?

“Of course not,” Harry answers quietly, sounding hurt picking up more snow. “Why would I do that?”

I shrug. “It’s a public place and it’s pretty in the spring with all the flowers and the willow tree that--”

“It’s not a public place,” Harry suddenly interjects, tilting his head to look at me. “It was our place. We came here.”

I freeze, definitely not from the temperature this time. His eyes are cloudy despite how clear they should appear with the white background.

“Right,” I swallow tensely. “It was.”

He sighs and glances back at the pond. He doesn’t say anything else. Instead, a few seconds later, he wraps his arm around my shoulder, his hand resting on the side of my head, pulling me into his body. It’s as if he knew I was craving it. He removes his arm when my head touches his shoulder and then returns to his original position.

I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. I want to turn and press my cold nose against his throat, just to hear him groan.

 “Luce? Can I ask you something?”

Don’t ask why my heart’s beating so fast because I’m scared to admit the answer to myself, much less to you. “Hmm?” Real words will not happen today. He’s expecting too much if so.

Harry, goddamn him, doesn’t even waste a second. “Why did you break up with me?”

“Why did I break up with you?” It’s too early for this. I’m not prepared enough for this conversation.

“Yeah. I don’t think you ever told me why.”

“I didn’t?”

“No.” He sounds a little impatient now, as if angry that I don’t have the same memories as him despite us both being there. “I’ve thought about it often, but I never figured it out. I imagine it was something to do with your father’s death, but I couldn’t understand how it correlated with me. It’s not like I did something -- or said something insensitive -- that would make you upset enough to break up with me. And when you were doing it, I didn’t ask because, well, you looked really stressed about it. That, mixed with everything in your life at the moment, made me not ask.” He looks uneasily over my head. “I guess, I’m asking now. You never told me properly.”

He’s right. I’ve never told him. And he’s never asked.

“And,” he continues, taking advantage of the brief pause, “I realized after I started dating her that I missed my chance to ask what exactly happened between us.” He laughs a bit. I see his breath in the air. “I have been so confused for years.”

I’ve been unfair to him, thinking the reasons for the downfall of our relationship was clear. There’s no avoiding this conversation, not when he’s sitting there with nowhere to go, and not with my schedule completely clear for the rest of the day. It was coming. Had he planned this? Knowing him, he definitely had. He enjoys cornering people.

“Did you bring me here so I wouldn’t run away?”

Harry smiles wryly. “Yes. Now talk.”

“It wasn’t something you’d done. I don’t want you to think that.”

“Do you see how I could think that? For two years?” he says, leaning his head against mine. 

I swallow. “Yes. And I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah.”

“I was very overwhelmed by everything happening and I suddenly didn’t want a relationship. It wasn’t ever about you or something you’d done. It was how I was reacting to everything going around me and, Harry, it was driving me insane. I was going to fly to Ecuador to see my family and help bury my father, but for a moment, I thought of leaving and never coming back.”

He speaks carefully. “And this wasn’t something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No,” I answer immediately and he stills. “I couldn’t. I wanted to be alone.”

He glances down at his finger, rubbing the area where his ring once lay as if it were aching. “And how did that end up for you? Being alone.”

“I got to see you happy. Something you wouldn’t have been with me.”

He releases a slow breath. “Christ’s sake.”

“It sounds pathetic now. Given the whole--”

“Divorce.”

I feel flushed. “Right. But that was the whole thing. It wasn’t you.”

“It wasn’t you either.”

I shake my head. “No. I guess it was just the circumstances. I couldn’t control them and I knew it was going to have a strain on us so I wanted to prevent anything worse.”

“And you thought the best thing to do was break up with me.”

I want to pick my head up and look at him but his head on top of mine prevents that. “You’re upset with me.”

“No, Lucía. I’m angry at you.”

I wince. “Right.”

“I have a right to be, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” I answer immediately. “I don’t understand how you haven’t been angry for all these years.”

“I haven’t been angry until now. I just thought we were the type of couple to talk to each other about our problems. And the type of friends too. Why do I find out about things you go through myself? Why don’t you tell me? Your OCD has become worse, Lucía, and you try to hide it, but it’s not working. You need better help than your stupid therapist.”

“We broke up.” My voice is so small, I don’t recognize it as my own. “I couldn't tell you those things.”

And suddenly, as if Harry’s anger has dissipated, turns his body towards me and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “God, Luce. It doesn’t matter what we are now. It matters that I’ve always told you to talk to me.”

Although there’s snow on his jacket, he’s still unreasonably warm. He leans his head on mine again and kisses the top of my head so softly, I want to cry out loud. But I wait until my throat opens up again to speak.

“To be fair, you asshole, you’re totally being a hypocrite.”

Harry’s chest rumbles when he quietly chuckles. “Am I?” he whispers in my ear.

“You didn’t tell me about your marriage problems until your divorce was nearly finalized.” I pick my head up off his chest. “You hypocrite.”

“No, but I have a valid reason. Thought it would be weird if I talked to my ex girlfriend about my marriage problems.”

“Why? Did you think I’d jump with joy?”

Harry’s eyes widen and he throws his head back as he laughs. I’m so relieved to see not a single speck of anger in his eyes. “God, no! I just thought it would be shitty of me. Especially after the whole wedding thing.”

“But as it turns out, you lost all your friends in the divorce and now I’m your only friend.”

“Hey,” he says, semi offended, but the smile still on his face, “I chose to drop those friends. They were covering for her!”

“Right.”

“Plus,” he continues, still smiling softly, “after your father’s death, I knew you had a lot on your plate, so adding my problems on top of that would just be unfair, don’t you think?”

“Are you telling me that we didn’t talk about our problems with each other for the same reason, Styles?”

“Wow,” Harry sighs, raising his eyebrows. “I guess we’re not so different at all. You should be angry with me too, then.”

I shake my head, admiring the melting snowflake that’s fallen into his eyelashes. “Hypocrite. I was never angry.”

“You’re a better person than me, then.” He removes his beanie from his head and gently puts it on mine, tucking my curls underneath. Immediately, he shudders from the cold. “Fuck’s sake.”

His hair is tied so his exposed neck gets hit by the gust of wind directly. He winces and stops my hands from taking the beanie off. “No, it's yours.”

Harry removes his hair tie and shakes his head so his own curls fall loose, covering his neck more securely. “Thank goodness for long hair.”

“Why did you decide to grow it out?” I ask him curiously. 

Harry shrugs. “Dunno, but I’m too attached to it now. How are you feeling? Still freaking out?”

“No,” I answer truthfully.

Harry’s mouth curves up when he glances at me, nodding. He takes my face into his glove-covered hands, squeezes my head tightly until I whine, and then releases me. He stands up then, holding a hand out for me to grab onto. “Let’s go around the pond.”

Half an hour later, when we’re walking back, I see some people have put up Christmas decorations already. “Hey,” I suddenly realize. “It’s your birthday soon.”

“Mhm.” Harry’s more concerned about crossing the street safely. “Three days. Look, watch your step. That’s ice. Hold my arm.”

I hold him tightly. “I’ll bake you a cake.”

“Let’s worry about that later. Right now, I just don’t want you to slip.”

I slip twice by the time we get back home. Harry makes the hot chocolate, scolding me from the kitchen while I lay on the couch in the livingroom with a hot bottle under my ass.

***

November 24

HARRY

It’s impossible to drive far with another snow storm outside, our offices closed once more, so we chose to celebrate my birthday inside. Things have been different since the incident at the pond. Lucía has been sleeping in her own room again, but she’s also disarmed her clock and changed her curtains to make her room even darker.

Though I’d like for her to sleep in my bed, I don’t want to push her. I’ve come to terms with what I feel for her, and having her in my bed would only lead to things that I’m not sure we can recover from if she doesn’t feel the same way.

We’ve gone to the pond every day, and every day, I’ve held myself back from kissing her. It’s proven to be very difficult.

But today’s my birthday and I’m celebrating having a new start. With her. Lucía brings out my cake and places it in front of me in the living room.

“Will you sing to me?” I ask her, grinning. I pat the seat next to me and she falls into it. “It’s my first post-divorce birthday after all.”

“Absolutely not.”

“No?” I frown. “Fine. Let me make a wish then.”

I lean over and ponder for a moment before inhaling, ready to blow out the candles.

“Wait!” Lucía cries out, pushing my head away with a slam of her palm. “Not yet!”

I should have known my birthday would not go uneventful.

“Ow!” I hold my hand to my forehead. “What’s wrong with you?” I demand.

She’s leaning over the cake, carefully fixing the candles so they stand upright. As I watch her, incredulously I may add, I lean back on my palms. She’s made my favorite cake.

I ask her, “I’m turning 28 so why are there 29 candles on the cake?”

“It’s a better number,” she answers, sitting back when she’s finished. She’s burned herself a bit, pushing the injured finger into her mouth.

“But I’m not 29. I’m 28.” I reach over and cautiously pluck one candle up, blowing it out. “There.”

Lucía looks at the discarded candle I’ve laid on the table. Her disturbed expression gives it all away, but I lean onto my thighs and ask, “What is it?”

“I don’t like that.”

“I know. Why don’t you like it?”

“I just don’t.”

“Can we leave it as 28?”

Lucía shakes her head immediately. “No.”

“Why not? I’m 28, Luce.”

“It’s not right. We can say the extra one is for good luck.”

She’s worn her favorite sweater and jeans, her hair tied up like mine is. My cake says, “¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Harry!” She’s written it herself.

“What are you going to do when I turn 34?”

“Lose my mind.”

I can't help but smile a little at that. “Right. That’s a different concern of its own. What do you think is going to happen if I stick with only 28 candles?”

She glances up at me helplessly, twisting her sweater sleeves between her fingers. “Something bad. Can we just put the candle back on? The cake is melting.”

“I’m 28. Don’t make me older than necessary.”

“They’re just candles!” she exclaims, growing irritated now.

“Exactly,” I say gently. “Just candles. They aren’t tied to some great significance. They aren’t meant for anything but to blow out. I promise you that if I blow out 28 candles instead of 29, nothing is going to happen. Watch.”

Her eyes widen as I lean forward and inhale sharply before blowing out all 28 candles. “Harry, no!” I feel her tense up besides me. When I draw back, she looks angry.

“See,” I tell her quietly. “Nothing happened. The only bad thing that happened was that I turned 28 and I’m old.”

“You took a very big risk!” she says, hands formed into fists. “Don’t ever do that again! Not in front of me.”

I take a deep breath and rest my hand on her clenched one. “Lucía. They were just candles.”

“I know! I know they were just candles!” she growls, pressing her palms into her eyes when she pushes my hand away. “You don’t think I know that?”

I take a quick moment to assess the situation. “Luce, I didn’t mean to upset you,” I tell her earnestly, trying to keep my voice down. “I was just pointing out that you said it yourself. They’re just candles and they’re not going to cause any harm. To anyone. It’s been at least a minute since I blew them out, and look. Nothing’s happened. Because nothing is going to happen. Yes?”

“No.”

I sigh again, scooting closer to her, taking her hands away from her face. “We’ve got to try to break out of it. Even if it’s little things like this.”

“It was little to you.”

Her voice is hard and I suddenly fear that I’ve ruined her night. I tug on her wrists a bit, pulling her closer until I get my arms around her frame and pull her into my chest. After her head touches my collarbone, she relaxes a bit and lets me shift her escaped hair over her shoulder. Resting my chin on top of her head, I tighten my arms around her, closing my eyes. Her hair is freshly washed and smells as sweet as it always does, her curls soft and bouncy.

“Sorry,” I tell her sincerely, rubbing her back. “Can we go back to celebrating my birthday?”

“That’s what I wanted.” Her voice is still firm but it cracks at the last word. I open my eyes when she picks her head up and sends me daggers with her narrowed, dark eyes. Her eyelashes are so thick that I can barely see the whites of her eyes. “But you had other plans.”

I laugh, bringing my palms to her face and pressing her cheeks together. “I’m sorry, love.”

A blush spreads over her face and I feel her skin under my hands grow warmer. I release her face after that and let her put an appropriate distance between us. I’ve made her nervous, I think, placing my hands in my lap. But she doesn’t say anything about it, reaching for the knife and pressing it into my hand.

“Here.”

“Cut it with me.”

She shoots me a look. “That’s okay.”

“What? There’s a rule about that too? Have to cut it at a certain angle or else I’ll combust on the spot?”

“It’s not funny!” Lucía says, smiling. “Just cut it, will you?”

I hold the knife against the cake and then reach over, picking up her hand, laying it flat on mine. And then to make sure she doesn’t take her hand away, I sandwich it between my other one and then firmly press down on the knife. We cut another portion.

Lucía pulls her hand away and says, “I’ll plate it for you.”

“I’ve got it.”

“No. Let me.”

She seems insistent, so I pull away and let her take control. She expertly puts the cake into the plate beside her and then picks it up. However, instead of handing it to me, she picks some up with her hand and before I can fully register where that piece is going to end up, she comes closer and smears it over my cheek and neck.

The coldness of the cream makes a shudder run through my body and a groan, closing my eyes at the thick cream falling from my face and into my lap.

“Okay,” Lucía says, putting the plate back down calmly. “I feel a lot better now.”

I lick my fingers after wiping my face. “I bet you were waiting for that all day.”

She smiles at me. “Actually yes. You just happened to piss me off at the best time.”

“Right. Luckily for you, I have a heart and I won’t smash your face into the cake that I want to eat.” There’s cake in my eyelashes and every time I blink, pieces of it fall out onto my lap. Lucía just watches it happen for a while before handing me a napkin. My face is all sticky now. My fingers too. Cautiously, I plate a slice for myself.

Strawberry shortcakes are my favorite. I love the sourness of the strawberries. “This is really good! Your baking skills have gotten better since last time.”

“Hey!” she says, offended. “That cake for your 25th wasn’t that bad!”

The ganache was so thin, it was slipping off the cake as I tried to cut into it. And the cake was dry. “It was awful,” I tell her. “Maybe chocolate cakes aren’t your specialty.”

“You have no right to say that. You’ve never baked a cake.”

I swallow. “Ah, but I worked at a bakery.”

“You worked at the register!”

She takes a bite herself and nods, satisfied. “Yeah, that’s really good. Look, I’m eating your name.”

“Thank you,” I tell her sincerely. “I love this.”

By this, I mean both the cake and the little moment we’re having together, though she won’t be able to distinguish between both things. I watch her face as she bites into a strawberry.

“I wish I could have done more for you.”

“It’s alright, Luce. I’m happy. Though, I’ve got to go change my clothes now. Give me a second and I’ll be right back.”

She nods when I stand up, the cold cream still making me shiver. I head to my room and pull out my duffel bag that’s yet to be unpacked. I’ve run out of sweaters so I take my shirt off and put another one on. The room is dark; I’ve refrained from turning the lights on since the white snow mixed with the setting sun outside illuminates the room enough for me to not bump into furniture. I feel for more fabrics in my duffel bag, but none of them are the sweaters I want.

“Hey, Luce?” I call out to her, peeking my head out the door. “Do you have any extra sweaters that might fit me?”

Should I also change my pants? They’re not too dirty, but I feel as if the icing will harden where it fell. As I’m pondering this, the floorboards creak behind me and when I turn, Lucía is there, holding something in her hands.

“I have this hoodie from before,” she says, holding it out towards me. In the dark, the only thing I can make out is her wild hair and silhouette. “I never gave it back to you after we broke up.”

I take the hoodie from her and turn it in my hands. “I’ve been looking for this!” I laugh. I pull it over my head and sigh, undoing my hair. I shake my head to let it fall evenly. “Thanks. I’ll give it back later.”

“Oh. No, that’s okay. It’s yours anyways.”

“You've had it for four years. Pretty sure that means it’s yours now.” It smells like her. A mixture of her shampoo and body wash.

Lucía doesn’t move out of the way, making no effort to head back downstairs. I don’t know what she’s waiting for, so I stay there too, the silence between us right on the edge of discomfort. Should I say something? Is she upset that I’m not keeping the hoodie? I’m waiting for something, but when she doesn’t say anything, wrapping her arms around herself as if she’s cold, I step forward.

“You alright?” I ask her quietly, resting my hands on her shoulders. I think she looks up at me.

“Did I ruin your birthday?” she whispers so softly I barely hear her. “With the candle freak out thing?”

Under normal circumstances, I’d laugh, but she sounds so insecure and worried, I don’t dare to even smile. “No. You didn’t ruin anything. I thought I ruined it.”

“I’ve ruined a lot of things between us. I thought by making a cake for you, I’d apologize, but I only made things worse.”

For a moment, I’m too stunned to say anything. But then, she takes a step forward and carefully finds my hoodie and then the strings. She holds onto it tightly. “I’m sorry, Harry. I really am.”

Every ounce of my self restraint goes out the window. I don’t know what part of her I grab or how I find her mouth in the darkness, but I do know the relief I feel when my lips touch hers and her hand tightens around my hoodie, instantly drawing me closer. She tastes like the tart strawberries with a hint of the whipped cream, the opposing tastes making me hungrily want her even more. And as I kiss her, I wonder how the hell I was able to keep my distance from her for four fucking years.

***

LUCÍA

He’s familiar. I know how he tastes, I know how warm his mouth feels on mine, and I know what causes these desperate kisses he keeps leaving on my skin even though I’ve broken my lips from his.

We’re both breathing heavily, my own heart pounding in my ears. I’m relieved that the lights aren’t on because Harry would be very worried if he looked at my face now. He’s already worried, speaking to me in a gentle voice.

“Luce, you okay?” Harry murmurs, gently rubbing my back. I clutch his hoodie harder without realizing, and then release it when my knuckles start to hurt. “Hey. It’s alright. It was just a kiss.”

It wasn’t just a kiss. How could it ever be just a kiss? “It wasn’t,” I say quietly, stepping away. “It wasn’t just…”

“It’s okay. We can talk about it. We can talk right now. Come here. Let’s sit down--”

“I don’t want to sit down.”

I can imagine the hurt that passes over his face for a second before his eyes soften and go back to concern. “You want to talk here?”

My mind is spinning. I always thought I’d be the one who’d end up kissing him. Now that it’s him, it feels too temporary. It wasn’t just a kiss.

“It was years, Harry. What am I supposed to do about all those years?”

Harry pulls away and strides to the lamp, flickering it on. Then, he returns to me, his big hands resting on my back. He’s not as confused as I am for some reason. Instead, everything is clear on his face, his normally stormy eyes more soft and his mouth slightly open. His chest is still rising and falling quickly and I can’t be imagining the way his eyes keep flickering down to my own mouth and back to my eyes.

“Harry. No.”

“Yes, Luce.”

“I don’t want to be your rebound. I don’t want to be your second choice.” I’m speaking without registering the words, but I feel myself returning to consciousness when the smile slips from Harry’s face and his eyes widen.

He’s clearly disturbed, holding his breath, his shoulders tense. “What? What did you just say?”

“I never want to be your rebound. I want to be your...your person.” I can’t stop. “And I have been a good friend. I’ve been patient. I’ve watched you get married and I’ve watched all this shit happen in your life. I don’t want to be your second choice just because you’re hurt.”

“Lucía.”

“I want to be so much more to you!” I tell him, feeling the long restrained anger bubble inside of me. “I didn’t want you to get married. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to love you for so long. I don’t want this! You’re being unfair to me!”

“Stop. Lucía.” Harry’s warm hands slowly cup my jaw and he pulls me closer with a quick tug. “Hey. Listen.”

I feel all ten of Harry’s fingers on my face, splayed out evenly. That’s good. His hands fit perfectly. My mind can focus on that and not be irritated like it would have been if he’d only placed one hand on my face. It’s even.

“When I say it’s just a kiss, I’m not implying it's meaningless. I’m saying that it’s no reason to freak out. We’ve kissed before. It was just one kiss. Not something new between us.”

I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished though I know he’s right. No reason to freak out. We’re mature adults. We know how to have a conversation. He’s right that we’ve kissed before.

“As for the other thing,” Harry continues, his voice significantly softer. “Luce. I married my rebound. Don’t you see that? It was supposed to be you. You and I were supposed to get married, remember? And then I was the one who fucked up.”

“You didn’t fuck up,” I whisper quickly. “You loved her.”

“I think I did,” he says with a small smile. “But all the choices I made after you and I ended things were wrong and I’m dealing with the consequences now. Besides, I’m really not the good guy you’re making me out to seem. I married someone while I was in love with another. Is that fair to any of the three people involved in this? Was it fair to any of our families? Or friends? Luce, I made many mistakes.”

“No, you didn’t,” I insist, placing my hands over his. “You moved on and I was happy for you. You were with her and you were happy and I was happy.”

Harry tilts his head and releases a slow breath. “So what went wrong?”

“Nothing! That’s just what it is. And we can’t change that so I can’t be this person for you.”

“What kind of person, Luce? What do you think I want from you?” he whispers, shaking his head, leaning down a bit. “You assume you’re one thing for me and I’m standing here telling you it’s not true. You are not my rebound. You are not my second choice.”

He looks sincere, the corner of his mouth tilting up slightly. Both his thumbs push my jaw up slightly. “Luce. Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“I just don’t want you to settle. For me,” I push out despite the words not wanting to, looking away from him. “Because she was so good. And I’m…”

“Don’t do that. Don’t you dare do that.”

“It’s true. I’m not--”

Harry’s brows pull in. “I settled for her. Can you believe me? I was that stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” I can’t bear the thought of him thinking that low of himself. “I was. For breaking up with you.”

He nods. “Yes, you were stupid for that one. Hey. Listen to me. I’m about to kiss you again.” I don’t have time to get another word in before he’s pressing his mouth to mine softly, dropping his hands to my waist. “You were stupid, but I understand why you needed it,” he whispers in between kisses. “But I hated it.”

“But you--” I can’t talk between the kisses since he’s the one controlling them so I step back. “Harry. I don’t want you to rush into things. It’s all so soon.”

“It’s not,” he says quietly. “I want to apologize. Will you let me?”

“You shouldn't! You were happy! You shouldn’t do something for me just because I want you.”

“You don’t think I want to be with you? Luce, can you let me be happy and let me make you happy?”

He waits as the words settle into my head. He’s not settling for me. He said it himself. And he wants me. Damnit, he wants me. I don’t want to marry him right now. Isn’t that what he wants? To settle down?

“I don’t want to marry you right now,” I blurt suddenly. “Maybe...maybe in a while, but not now.”

Harry’s face breaks out into a big smile when I wrap my arms around his torso. He feels like home, body pressed up against mine. “You think marriage is on my mind right now? Maybe you don’t know me at all.”

And then I say the next thing I'm most worried about. My face feels red from embarrassment, but the words come out before I can stop them. “It feels like me breaking up with you was the reason you got into a relationship right after and got married and then eventually divorced. It feels like I was the reason--”

Harry clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I just told you not to do that. Don’t ever do that. Come here.” And then he kisses me again, front to front, warmth against warmth, his eyelashes fluttering against my skin, soft curls tickling the frame of my face. His kisses are so cautious but still exciting, and I push myself up onto my tiptoes, moving my arms to wrap around his neck. He smiles, just barely, and pulls away for a quick breath before kissing me again. I feel as if I’m about to burst, my legs weak, and my heart so full, I can’t stand it.

When he pulls away, he murmurs, “That was 7, by the way. 7 kisses.”

“I wasn’t even counting,” I breathe, pressing my face into his hoodie. “I’ve missed you.”

“You have no idea, Luce, how much I’ve missed you,” he says quietly, pressing a final kiss to the top of my head. “Are you alright now? No more freaking out?”

“No more freaking out,” I confirm quietly. “I’m good.” It may not be a complete lie.

“You sure? Won’t give yourself a nosebleed, will you?”

I have to kiss him again, so I do. I tangle my fingers into his hair and kiss him softly, tasting the remains of the strawberry shortcake on him. And when he kisses me back, matching my slightly desperate energy, I feel loved and cherished for. I know I feel happy at that moment.

And then I feel a different, more urgent emotion when Harry’s hand slides down to my waist and tugs me close, capturing my mouth with his once more, wet, soft, and delicious. His other hand slides up to cup the back of my head to silently tell me that if I have any plans to run away, think again. I don’t think I can’t tear myself away from him anyways, and I repeat the words to him when my hands hold his hoodie tightly between my fingers, drawing him impossibly closer. It’s similar to how I grabbed his collar at court. He seems to enjoy the motion, tilting his head and pressing his tongue past my lips.

Electricity zips through my body at his choice to deepen the kiss, but I push myself onto my tip toes and press back with the same amount of intensity. He breaks apart to steal a quick gulp of air, the sound he makes a cross between a moan and a whimper. I open my eyes briefly and watch him, but his eyes are still trained on my mouth. The hand pressed against my hair tugs me back so his lips fit against mine again.

“Come here,” he whispers, tilting his head again. “Come to me, Lucía.”

The sound of my name falling from his lips makes my knees weak and I’m instantly glad he has such a bruising hold on me, preventing me from falling to the floor. When his hand slips just slightly and rests above my ass, I take a deep breath and gently touch the drawstring of his hoodie and then the collar. His eyes open when I pull on it weakly.

“That’s what you want?” he breathes, drawing back just enough for me to be able to see his light eyes. He presses his tongue to the corner of his mouth and I’m instantly mesmerized by it.

“Yes,” I whisper, pressing kisses to his neck. I don’t like how far he is. “Would that be alright? I’ve been really patient.”

Harry’s frame shakes when he laughs quietly, cupping my jaw between his hands. “Yes, you have, haven’t you?”

I nod, pulling on his hoodie some more. “Would it be alright?” I repeat.

His smile remains wide as he bites his lower lip and nods, stepping away from me and pulling the hoodie off his body. He’s left in a thin black shirt, but I barely have any time to comprehend how attractive he looks when he draws me closer and begins to undo the button on my jeans. My breath hitches at the thought of what we’re about to do, and he glances at me, halting his movements.

“What is it?”

“I’m just so excited,” I whisper, reaching for his drawstrings at his joggers. “I want to go slow, but at the same time… at the same time I want to…”

Harry’s smile returns and he slowly drags the zipper of my jeans down. “I know what you mean,” he says quietly, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head. “I’m not sure how to go about this either.”

I swallow. “Maybe we can go slow and just see how we feel about that. I don’t want to rush.”

“I don’t want to rush either, Luce. We’ll take our time, then.” He reaches for my sweater next, and I put my arms up to let the material pass easily over my head. He tosses the white sweater to the side and takes a step back, his tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth again. His eyes move darkly over my torso. “Fuck’s sake,” he says under his breath. “Lucía. You can’t do that to me. I’m not strong enough.”

My hands reach out for him, trembling a bit with excitement. “Your turn now.”

As he removes his shirt, he admits, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“You get to see all of me now.”

He tosses his shirt away too and then tugs me back to him with his fingers around my belt loops. “Don’t be so far from me,” he quietly complains, kissing my mouth again. He walks forward until the back of my knees hit the mattress and then we tumble onto it. I softly laugh into the kiss, throwing my arms around him.

He doesn’t waste any time pulling me up to secure my body fully on the bed. “Now,” he whispers against my jaw, pressing a faint kiss there, “I’m going to do what I was made to do.” He hovers over me. “Worship your body.”

The first kiss pressed to my sternum causes a shiver, but the next few kisses cause giggles. I feel his lips pull into a smile when I tangle my fingers into his curls to keep them from falling over his face. He bites down on my stomach lightly as a thanks. He turns his head and presses a kiss to my wrist before returning his attention to the task at hand. He licks his lips and presses them softly to my stomach and ribs, glancing up at me between every few kisses. When my breath hitches, it’s when he’s biting down on my bra and pulling it away from my chest. He lets it snap back and then finally fingers the strap around my shoulders.

“Gonna pull this down,” he murmurs, kissing my shoulder and then earlobe. “How’s that sound?”

“Really good,” I whisper, still holding his hair. “I’d like that very much.”

Harry chuckles and then gently drops both straps and then I arch my back so he can get to the clasps behind my back. It feels natural to be undressed by Harry. Any nerves I’m feeling right now are out of pure excitement and impatience, not fright or unease. Before the material falls away from my body, I gasp at the cold air and say, “Wait! Can you grab the blanket?”

“‘Course.” He drapes the thick blanket over us and then finally pulls the bra away from my body, cheekily flicking it somewhere over his shoulder. I can’t help but giggle when his warm mouth continues to press kisses to the newly exposed area, creating a contrast to how the cold air feels. I’ve got goosebumps and around my breasts, but Harry gently kisses or massages them away with his palm. “Better?” he murmurs, picking his head up to grin at me.

“So much better,” I whisper, tucking his hair away again.

“Is my hair annoying you? I can tie it. I mean, I will have to when I fuck you or I’ll lose my mind. It tickles too much and it’ll get in your face.”

I open my mouth to answer, but the way he casually says “when I fuck you” renders me completely speechless. I know what I’ve gotten myself into, but hearing him say it and watching his mouth curve around the words excited me further and the impatience inside me grows intensely. That’s what I’ve been wanting from him, I realize, remembering the times where I dwelled on his hands on my body, his kiss on my cheek. I want that and more.

“No,” I manage. “Leave it out until you fuck me.”

My words seem to have the same effect on him. He breathes out a laugh and bends down to kiss my collarbones, his hands falling below to work on my jeans. They’re a little harder to get off, but Harry manages fine with a mix of his relentless tugging and my kicking, and soon my legs are bare and I’m left in my underwear.

“If I had thought,” I start with a gasp, watching him kiss the inside of my thighs, “that I’d be sleeping with my ex tonight, I would have worn cuter underwear.”

Harry hums, moving up to rest on his knees as he begins to pull his joggers down. He’s wearing the same tight black underwear he’s always worn, and he purses his lips. “Can’t relate. Yours are still cute. You have to remember: I’ve seen all your underwear, even the embarrassing ones.”

“But you haven’t seen the newer ones!”

“Knowing you, they can’t all be that bad.” He peeks down at my current one. “This one’s cute.”

“Wasn’t trying to go for cute, but thank you.”

He notices that my eyes are trained below his waist. Instead of making a comment about it, he takes my hand and gently presses it to his crotch, swallowing when I give him a squeeze.

“Good thing I know how to make you feel good,” I whisper, sitting up a bit to reach him better.

“It’s been a while,” he murmurs back, flexing his jaw when I slowly begin to palm over his length. “Do you even remember?”

“I do,” I tell him. “I think about it all the time.”

Surprise lands over his face. “Yeah? What do you think about?”

I push him down to the mattress, landing a thigh on either side of his hips. “I think about whether or not people have been able to please you like I used to.” He grabs onto my hips and pressing his fingers deeply, groaning softly and throwing his head back when I experimentally rock my hips against his. “Because for me, Harry, nobody’s been able to do it like you.”

“God,” he says weakly, lifting his head to watch my movement on him. “Warn a man before you say filthy things like that.”

His hair is now fanned out over the pillow and the setting sun colors his face dark orange and pink. The sunsets in the winter are always more colorful for some reason, and I thank the sun for the impeccable timing. I thought he looked like a painting while asleep, but he looks like a fucking masterpiece now. I can’t help but look around for any imperfections. Finding none, I lean down and brush a kiss to his jaw.

“Harry,” I whisper, smoothing my fingers over his strong brows. “I’ve missed you.”

“You have no idea,” he whispers back. I feel his throat move against my mouth as he swallows. “You have no fucking idea, Luce.”

“I want you to show me. And I’ll show you.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” His fingers are still squeezing my waist. 

“You want to be on top?”

“Yeah,” he says, licking his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, I love this position. Love feeling you on top of me. But I want to see you under me.”

The words slice through me ruthlessly. He sits up and allows me to roll off, adjusting himself in his boxer briefs. He takes a deep breath and then glances at the side table. “Do you have any condoms?”

I’m mesmerized by all his tattoos. They’ve been hidden from me for years. It takes me a second to answer. “They’re in the bathroom.”

He groans and looks at the bathroom door across the room. “It’s so far!”

“It’s not!” I laugh, pressing kisses to his jaw, holding his face. “It’s a little cold, sure.”

“Why don’t you keep them in the drawer anymore?”

“What am I supposed to do with them?”

Harry turns his gaze on me. “Don’t tell me they’re expired, Luce.”

“Well, the only way to know is to get up and check.”

Harry groans again, more dramatically, but he pushes the sheets off his body anyways and shudders, walking over to the bathroom. I hear him shifting things around in the bathroom before he returns to me, waving a packet. “One. You have one left, Lucía.”

“The lone survivor.”

“How much sex were you having, woman?”

“I should be asking you that considering you were married.”

“Don’t,” he says, raising a hand gesturing to me to stop talking. “Don’t bring up my sex life with her.”

I embrace him to my chest when he slips back into bed. “It was that bad?”

“Now that I think of it, everything was bad. You know what? I have an idea. Let’s refrain from speaking about the demon bitch while we’re in bed together. How’s that sound?”

His mouth is warm against mine when I kiss him. “Sounds like an excellent idea.”

“That’s what I thought. Because if you keep talking about her, I’m going to go soft.”

He lifts his head for air and then gently parts my legs so he can rest between them. And then he grabs a pillow, pushing it under my hips for some elevation. Everything becomes serious and more quiet when his long fingers dip into the waistband of my underwear and gently tug the cotton down.

Harry slowly lowers himself, and despite the direction he’s going in, the first swipe of his tongue makes me jolt, and if it weren’t for Harry’s warm hands on my thighs, I would have injured him purely from surprise. I gasp, tightening my fingers in his hair immediately as I’d always done years ago, feeling his familiar tongue press against me, lapping, and his mouth gently kissing.

“Fuck,” I whisper, pushing the blanket down despite the cold so I can get a good look at him. His eyes are on me, eyelashes tickling my skin. “Harry.”

He still manages a confident smile even with his mouth on me. When he pulls away, he licks his lips and then presses a wet kiss to my thighs, biting down gently too.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “Just wanted to hear you.”

I swallow, tucking his hair back. “Don’t apologize for that.”

His dimples deepen when he drags the kisses back up my sternum and then neck. Everything about him feels the same, from his kisses to his scent to his almost overwhelming weight. He gently grabs my face and kisses my mouth.

“Let me fuck you?”

“You don’t have to ask me, Harry,” I groan, feeling his free hand trail back down between my legs. I wrap my legs around his waist. “You know what I want.”

He hums. “Promise I’ll spend more time with my face between your legs later. I’m trying to be patient, Luce, but I just--”

“I know. I know. I’m trying too, but it’s really hard. It’s been so long.” A slow sigh leaves me when he presses his middle finger inside me. I slowly release a long breath. “Tie your hair up,” I implore softly. “Please, just tie it.”

He doesn’t listen to me, instead pressing a second finger into me, marveling at my whines. “Don’t wanna hurt you. Need to make sure you’re ready.” Since he refuses to do as I say, I take the hair tie from around my own wrist and gather up all his hair before twisting and creating a bun, securing the hair on his head. It’s messy but it gets the job done. Harry chuckles, probably at my desperation.

“Harry,” I say, trying my best to sound firm. “I was ready yesterday.”

“Really?” he muses, smiling. “Should have jumped my bones then.”

“Harry, I’m serious.”

“Alright.” He gently pulls his fingers out and then pulls his own underwear down, watching my face as I watch the skin get revealed inch by inch. “The look on your face,” he breathes, reaching for the condom. “You really are ready, hmm?”

I wrap my trembling arms around his neck and pull him down, my heart beating wildly. He parts my legs once more and says, “Lucía, at least look at my face.”

My throat feels dry, but one look into Harry’s eyes and I feel much more relaxed. He presses my head back down into the pillow, and I hadn’t even realized I was sitting slightly up to watch him roll the condom on. “You alright?” I ask him, though I don’t need to, because he gives me a beautiful smile as an answer and then takes a hold of himself, gently pushing into me. 

He mutters a swear while I gasp, and he immediately takes my hands away from his neck and laces our fingers together, holding our joining hands above my head. He continues to move, monitoring my face, until he’s fully inside. The familiar pleasure warms my body, welcoming Harry back into the place he’s always belonged. The sun, now no longer pink but just a pale yellow, hits his hair and the side of his face that once more reminds me how breathtaking he is.

I have to tell him this. “You are so beautiful,” I whisper, closing my eyes briefly when he pulls away and then presses back in. My eyelids lift. “You are so perfect. You are everything I’ve ever wanted. You are so…”

“Lucía,” he murmurs, pushing my hair off my forehead with a quick sweep of his thumb. “You’re being unfair.”

“Am I?” I answer faintly, unable to take my eyes off his face. “I think you need to know.”

The corner of his mouth lifts up and his eyebrows raise when I moan softly at him pressing back a few more times. “I know, my love,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to my right eyebrow. “I can see it all over your face.”

“Good,” I reply, squeezing his hands. “You should know. I can’t believe I let you go.”

My eyes flutter shut again when he kisses my other eyebrow and then my cheekbone, all the way down to my jaw. And then he repeats on the other side. In that moment, I feel so loved. I realize that my loneliness was never going to be cured by just anyone. It would only be cured by Harry.

I open my eyes and push up, catching his lips as they descend their way down to my neck. He makes a startled noise of surprise, but melts into my kiss.

“You feel so good,” he says into my mouth. “There’s nobody like you. It was always you, Luce. I was so fucking stupid.”

“No! No, it wasn’t you. It was me. All me.”

Harry presses his face into my neck and releases my hands, instead pushing his arms under my body and holding me tight against his chest. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hug him, burying my moans into his shoulder.

He moves effortlessly inside me, slowly, but meaningfully. At some point, Harry’s pace is so slow and his grip so tight, I can’t breathe, too overwhelmed by him taking up all my senses. I kiss whatever amount of skin I can reach, greedily. His own lower groans and grunts sound heavenly to me, and I close my eyes, content with his taste on my tongue, his sounds in my ear, and his weight on my body. At some point it’ll be difficult to breathe again, but I’m not too concerned about it. I’m happy. I’m so, so happy.

The only thing that breaks me out of this trance is a wet feeling on my shoulder and neck. My blood goes cold. For a moment, I just let Harry hold me tighter, but when his shoulders start trembling, I pass a hand over the back of his neck.

“Harry,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his temple. “No. Please, mi ángel. Please don’t cry.”

He takes a deep, trembling breath.

“Harry, baby.”

It takes him some time to begin talking to me again, but his hips ever stop moving, never stop giving us both the pleasure we’ve denied ourselves of for years.

“Love you so much,” he finally says quietly, picking his head up. His eyes are watery, breaking my heart as soon as he makes eye contact with me. “I’ve missed you so much. You have no idea. Every day. It was torture every single fucking day.”

I’m so happy that his hair is out of the way as I can see him perfectly. When he blinks, some of the moisture on his lashes hits my face, but I don’t move to wipe it away from my skin. Instead, I use my palms to wipe his eyes, pushing up to kiss his mouth.

“Don’t do that,” I whisper, my own eyes beginning to water. “Please don’t cry, Harry. I can’t handle that. You know I can’t.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, stuttering on a laugh. “I can’t stop, Luce. I can’t. You’re all I fucking wanted and I didn’t have you for so long.” He glances down at where we’re connected, giving me a generous, deep thrust. I gasp, throwing my head back. He cups the back of my head immediately to soften the blow against my pillow though it wouldn’t have injured me anyways. “You are so beautiful. You have no right to call me beautiful when you look like that.” My eyes cut to his again. “I’ve missed you. Sometimes….sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night and I’d expect you to be next to me.” A fresh wave of tears form in his eyes. “But it was never you, Luce. And I wanted it to be you so bad. I wasn’t ever the good guy if I wanted that. I wasn’t a good husband.”

“Harry,” I manage through a groan. “Stop. Stop saying that about yourself. It doesn’t matter now.”

“It does,” he says quietly, cupping my jaw. “Look at me. Hey. It matters because you think you’re my second choice. Or my rebound. Lucía. Lucía, that’s not true. It was never true and it’s not ever going to be true. It was always you.” With the last word, he gives me a rougher thrust that has me closing my eyes and relishing the pleasure.

He continues, “I’m not even upset about this stupid divorce. I was more upset when we broke up. Do you see? It’s always been you.”

I drag him back down to me with weak arms, kissing his face over and over, tightening my legs around his waist. “Harry,” I whisper, burying my face in his neck. “Don’t blame yourself, please. It was my choice to break up with you after all. And you didn’t even know why until recently. I’m at fault mostly.”

Harry smooths a hand over my hair and then bunches it together, tilting my head back so he can kiss my neck. Although he’s no longer crying, I can feel the emotion behind those kisses, enough to make me want to cry as well.

“You did what you felt was right. I can’t be angry with you about that.”

“You were angry before.”

“I was,” he admits quietly, kissing my forehead. “But I love you too much to be mad at you for so long.” He moves so deliciously inside me, I nearly forget to breathe. “Let me do you right. Let me make you cum.”

“Now you’ve got my attention,” I tease. In response, he cups my jaw and kisses me deeply while increasing his pace. At some point, however, it becomes hard to keep up with his kisses due to how demanding they are. Too overwhelmed to kiss him back, I whimper into his mouth instead, struggling to keep my sounds to myself. Harry’s driving them out of me.

My legs tremble at the intensity and when Harry releases my face, he places his hands on my waist and begins manually moving me on him. I suspect he’s a little tired, so I raise my hips to help him despite the burn already forming in my legs. He flashes me an appreciative look.

“When was the last time you had an orgasm?” he asks, pressing his thumb against my clit, slowly circling. The movement makes me whine and grab the bed sheets. “Oh, you are so beautiful, my Lucie.”

“I think it’s been...it’s been a week. It’s been a little hard with you around, if I’m honest.”

“Really?” Harry asks breathily, interested. “Why?”

“Well.” I feel my face grow hot. All I can hear is our skin slapping and his low groans. “I’m so used to m-my own place with nobody around. It’ll be an adjustment to try to keep my...my noises to myself.”

Harry lets out a laugh and then tilts his head back, uttering a swear under his breath. “You know I wouldn’t mind.”

“I would,” I whisper, shutting my eyes tight. “Fuck, Harry. Harry.”

“Can feel it. Squeezing me so tight, love. Go ahead. I want to feel it all over me.”

The orgasms I’ve had without Harry don’t even begin to compare to how intense this one is. Harry holds me to his chest, working me through the orgasm, letting me bite down on his shoulder harshly. My wrists hurt from how tightly I’m holding his neck. Tears erupt in my eyes at how well cared for I feel. His fingers run through my hair and he quietly laughs when they get stuck in my curls. “Thank you,” I whisper, because I don’t know what else to say. “Thank you. I love you.”

Harry presses a kiss to my hair and then softens his hold on me, still not letting go. He thrusts only a few more times before burying his own head in my neck to muffle his groan, stilling inside of me. He whispers swear after swear, and then finally ends with murmur of: “Love you so much, Luce.”

I don’t want to let him go yet, no matter how badly my arms are aching. He pulls out of me, and lifts his head, cupping my jaw when kissing me softly.

“Two seconds,” he whispers. “Just give me two.”

I swallow and nod, reluctantly letting him go, wiping away my tears. His eyes soften at the sight of them, and as soon as the condom is discarded, he returns to me and gathers me into his arms. He’s on his back and I scrawl myself on top of him, letting his hands run over the curve of my waist and the back of my neck.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to go again,” I whisper hoarsely.

Harry laughs, scratching down my back. “Oh really?”

“Yes. This was lovely reunion sex. Next, we gotta be rough.”

“Hmm. And this has to happen tonight?”

I pick my head up. “Are you tired, Styles?”

“A little bit, Luce. All that crying made me dehydrated.”

Suddenly, I feel the ghost of the tears he’d wept onto my shoulder. I sit up and cup his face. “You have no idea what happens to me when you cry, mi ángel. You’ve rarely ever cried in front of me.”

Harry laughs, his dimples as deep as they can go. “I wasn’t planning on crying mid fuck. If anything, I’m a little embarrassed now.”

I relieve his hair from the awful bun I’ve made and his curls fall effortlessly onto his pillow. “I cried too. It’s alright.”

We fall into a bit of comfortable silence, his hands on my back, and my fingers softly tracing his tattoos. I haven’t been this close to them in years. I lick my lips and begin kissing them, starting with the swallows and then moving down to the antennae of the butterfly. It looks smaller now that he’s gained more muscle. There’s a bit of sweat on his torso, but I don’t mind. I love all of it.

“I am going to spend hours learning your body again,” Harry murmurs, holding in a laugh when I kiss his butterfly properly. “Hey, did you know your mom called me the other day?”

I pause my kisses and sharply glance up at him. “My...mother?”

“Yes. You told her we’re living together again so I think she assumed we’re back together. Don’t look at me like that. I used to talk to your mom all the time.”

“When you had a reason to.” Anxiety spikes through me. “What did she say?”

“Well, she told me to keep an eye on you. Said you haven’t been calling home a lot. That you were being too quiet.” He gently encourages me to lay my head back down onto his chest. “Why haven’t you been calling your mom?”

“I do call her! I called her a few days ago!”

“She said she missed the call but when she tried to reach you again, you didn’t pick up.”

“Why’s she telling on me? And to you, out of all people!”

Harry kisses the top of my head. “Your mother loved me, Luce. As soon as I picked up she said, ‘Where have you been, yernito?’ And then I told her that her daughter had so brutally broken up with me and left me to pick up the remains of my heart by myself.”

“You’re funny.”

His fingers gently card through my hair, laughing softly when my tangles catch them before reaching the ends. “She’s worried about you.”

“She doesn’t need to be.”

His heartbeat has returned to normal. I close my eyes, enjoying the soft rhythm. “I’m worried about you too,” Harry says quietly. “I worry about you a lot.”

My heart falls as I pick my head up to glance at him again. “Why? I’m fine.”

He takes a deep breath. “We broke up a week after your dad passed away, Luce. I didn’t even get to properly help. I didn't even know why we broke up. I didn’t hear from you until the next year. Your OCD has gotten worse. There is so much that I didn’t do in the years we weren’t together. I’m worried that I don’t know how to help you anymore.”

“You did too much for me when we were together before anyways.”

“That’s not true at all.”

“It is. And mi ángel, you didn’t have an obligation to take care of me. We weren’t together.”

His jaw tenses and then relaxes, the harsh lines of his frowns disappearing. Instead, he says softly, “I’ve missed you calling me that. You used to call me that more than my own name.”

I press a long kiss to his mouth and then one to his cheek. “I love you. Things aren’t ideal between us, but the fact that there is an ‘us’ now makes me happy.” I kiss his other cheek to even it out. “If I learned anything about our past relationship, it’s that life sometimes sucks, but we’ve just gotta deal with it, no matter how much we don’t want to. I didn’t deal with it properly. And I’ve learned my lesson. So you’re not running away from me, got it?”

Harry smiles, fondly tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Got it. And I love you.” He softly kisses me. “Please call your mom.”

“I will,” I whisper against his mouth, kissing him again, pressing my body more firmly against his. To my delight, I feel him against my thigh, once more demanding my attention. I slide a hand down between his legs and gently stroke him. He groans softly into my mouth.

“I need to give you a better orgasm, Luce.”

My ears perk up at that. “My orgasm was amazing, though. And what happened to being tired?”

“That conversation woke me up. Fuck’s sake.” He lets out a shaky breath and kisses my temple. “I promised I’d spend time with my face between your legs.” He wraps his hand around mine and gently pulls it off of him. “Let me do that and then I’ll fuck you again. Sounds good?”

“Sounds amazing.” He reaches for his hair tie and I watch, completely captivated by the man hovering over me. He ties his hair quickly and then pushes a pillow underneath my hips. My legs wrap around his shoulders and his hands splay over my stomach.

“I love you,” he tells me softly, kissing my inner thighs before pressing his mouth between my legs.

“Oh,” I whisper, lacing my fingers with his and squeezing tightly. “Te amo.”

[sugarbooger513]

Mine (Stepbrother!ChosoxFem!Reader)

This is my collaboration piece for @severelytalentless Are You Afraid of the Dark collab! I had a lot of fun writing this... work. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you to my very amazing friends who helped me out during this piece, especially my wifey @kentosovertime and my bestie @roughwithfluff. It wouldn't have ended up as well written as it did without the help.

Warnings: stepcest, possessive nature, unprotected sex (wrap your willies), oral (fem receiving), spit, Choso slaps reader in the face like once, he also slaps in another place, daddy kink, dom Choso, Choso is very petty, mentions of cheating ex, mentions of alcohol and nicotine consumption, degradation, praise, slight breeding kink if you squint

"Don't bother calling me anymore! I see what's more important to you.." You hang up your cell phone and throw it across the room. Your bed feels colder than it usually does, but you lay on it anyways, allowing your tears to flow onto your pillow.

Your boyfriend, now ex, of two years had called you with a plea, begging for your forgiveness. How could you forgive him, though? When you heard about your best friend sleeping with him, you couldn't get the image out of your head. You knew she thought he was attractive, but there was never a worry in your mind that either of them would take it anywhere.

You sit up, suddenly realizing that he would be on his way home from work in an hour, maybe two. You had to leave before he got home. It wasn't like you feared he would hurt you for leaving him, but he would certainly try to guilt you into staying with him.

Your heart rate increases when you realize that you have no idea where you can go. He knows all of your family, and is pretty loved by all of them. Your stepmom even has the habit of calling him her son. 'Her son...'

You rush to grab your phone, dialing the all too familiar number. If there's one person in your family you can call, it's the one he's scared of.

"Y/N," your step brother lets out a long yawn after answering, "what's up?" "B-bubs.." You can hear him drop something on his end. "Honey, why are you crying?" "He.. he cheated on me.. with her.. you were right.."

Choso bites the inside of his cheek, suddenly enraged at the thought. He never liked that guy. When they first met, Choso punched him in the jaw for being an asshole. You were mad at him at the time, but eventually understood why he did it. Since then, your ex was too scared to look Choso in the eyes.

Still, he now finds himself smiling.

"I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?" Your sniffle makes him clench his fist. "He's going.. to be home s-soon." "Drive over here. I'll set up the guest-" "C-can you get me..? I don't want him tracking my car.."

Your pitiful voice goes straight to his crotch. Even though no one else is at his home, he finds himself trying to conceal his half hard cock with the kitchen counter.

"Of course, honey. Pack a bag. I'll be there in twenty." "I-I love you, Choso.. thank you." He has to bite his lip to keep from moaning. "I love you too, honey."

When he hangs up, he groans loudly and places his head on the cool marble. "Okay," he talks to himself aloud, "just.. keep yourself in control. You got this, Choso. She's your step sister, for Christ's sake." He shakes his head, grabbing his keys.

Still, he can't deny the things you do to him. It makes him feel terrible, but you're so damn tempting. He always figured that your hugs would last a little too long, your eyes scanned him a little too much, your hands lingered on him a little too suggestively.

He knew better, though. Your teenage years were spent on tons of dates with guys who were the complete opposite of your stepbrother. He would sit in his bedroom, no doubt on a video game, while he listened to guy after guy go in and out of your bedroom. It wasn't like you were a whore.

Those guys just eventually showed their true colors.

He knows that when you love, you love with your entire heart. That's why he was there for you through every heartbreak. He would hold you for hours, dry your tears with his own shirts, make you your favorite snacks, take you on long walks so you weren't cooped in the house all day.

Why? Well, because in his mind you already belonged to him.

You pace your living room, already holding your overnight bag in your hand. Of course, you'll probably stay with Choso more than one night, unless your dad tells you to stay with him and your stepmom instead.

Who are you kidding? If Choso offers to let you stay longer, you would much rather stay there.

Your front door opens, and you jump in fear that your ex came back early. "Shhh, honey it's me." "C-Cho.." Choso walks across the room in quick strides to pull you into his strong embrace.

His hands gently cradle you against his body. "He doesn't deserve your tears Y/N. Don't give him the satisfaction." "Y-you tell me that after every breakup, Choso.." "I know. That's because none of them deserve your kindness."

You close your eyes and feel yourself relax in his strong arms. He's never let you down. Choso has been the only guy in your life to prove he would always be there for you. You truly trust him with your life.

That being said, you can't ignore the feelings that have formed over the years for your stepbrother.

Your fingers grip his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer to you. He sighs softly and buries his face in your hair. "Is there anything I can do for you, Y/N?" "Just... don't leave me. Please?"

His heart pounds in his chest at your feeble plea. His throat seems to dry, so he can't manage to speak. Finally, after what feels like an hour, he clears his throat.

"You know I won't, Y/N. I never have." "And never will?" His large hands squeeze your body a bit harshly, but your breath only increases at the feeling.

"I never will. Now, why don't we get you loaded into the car and get you home?" You finally pull away, blinking your still teary eyes at him so innocently. "Home..?"

The look on your face has his body on fire. You look so damn innocent, just like an angel. They're still red and puffy from your crying, but that only has him straining in his pants.

The things he would give to take the innocence from your face this second..

"Of course. My home is yours for as long as you need." He jingles his keys in an attempt for you to hurry and follow.

"What.. what about as long as I want..?"

That sentence has him blushing furiously. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. You're family and I love you, so my home is yours. We should go though. I don't want to-" His sentence is cut short when you wrap your small arms around his frame.

"Cho.. you're the only person in my life that cares this much.." "Don't say that, princess. You know that isn't true." His large hands are so gentle as they rub your back comfortingly. The small action has your heart pounding.

It also has your core burning for more.

"I-I want to stay with you." "Princess, then why are we still here?" There's a hint of laughter in his teasing tone. "I mean.. stay with you." You bury your face in his broad chest, hoping desperately that he gets the hint.

And oh boy does he ever. He can't help the small groan that escapes his throat at the mere thought.

"Y/N.. you don't mean that." You finally look up, shocked at the tint of rosiness on his usually pale cheeks.

"I-I do mean it.. You're the only guy who has ever-" "I'm family." "Not blood. D-Don't act like you don't feel the same Choso!" His eyes widen, and your accusation has him backing away from you, causing your hope to falter. Had you been mistaken this entire time? Had the stares and lingering touches really just been his own way of showing platonic affection.

"Choso.. I-" "Am I truly that obvious, Y/N?" You blink once, twice before giggling softly. "Y-yeah.. have I not been?" "No. Your.. attention always seemed to be on others. I just assumed.. you saw me as your big brother." You shake your head, walking slowly to stand directly in front of him again.

You've always thought his eyes were gorgeous, a slight grey tint over the almost golden color, they truly are their own unique shade, but right now they seem even brighter.

"I.. I was scared. People would.. call us freaks if anything came of any attraction to each other. I mean.. we've known forever that we weren't related, but our parents have been married-" "Going on ten years now. Even dated for five years before that. Trust me," his hand reaches to touch your cheek gently, as if he's afraid he could break you, "I've been bouncing the pros and cons in my head for so many fucking years."

Your cheek fits so easily in his palm, as if it was made to be there. "So.. who gives a damn about the cons anymore?" His eyes darken at your words, suddenly not focused on your gaze, but your lips. "I don't think I do, Princess." He suddenly turns the two of you, pressing your body into the wall that was originally behind him.

His lips hover centimeters over yours, making you whimper pathetically. "Tell me what you want. I'll give it to you, Y/N." His lips turn at the corners, making the already handsome guy seem even more so. Your hands reach out, gripping the loose t-shirt he's wearing tightly. "I-I need you, Cho. P-please?"

"Well, why don't we take this little.. fiasco to my place?" "No." He tilts his head in confusion as you smirk. "Fuck me on his bed.. onii-chan."

His lips are on yours the instant that word leaves your mouth. Despite the fact you're almost certain that Choso doesn't know what lip balm is, his lips are so plush and soft. It catches you off guard, causing you to moan softly in his mouth.

He isn't shy about exploring your body either. His hands grab every bit of plushness they can. Your hips, thighs, ass, until he finally reaches your breasts. His hands squeeze them harshly, not caring about any actual pain he could bring. You gasp in the kiss, which allows his tongue to finally invade your mouth, easily taking over as the dominant one.

He tastes faintly of cheap wine and cigarettes, but that doesn't shock you. You've spent multiple nights in his room smoking and drinking after rough breakups.

You have to smack at his shoulder a few times before he pulls away, leaving a strand of saliva connecting the two of you. He lets out a deep growl before grabbing your arm to yank you upstairs.

He kicks the bedroom door open, not caring about possibly busting the damn thing. "I have waited for so fucking long," he shoves you onto the queen sized bed that you once shared with your ex, "to have you all to myself. Now that I have you..." He pulls the shirt over his head, causing your eyes to shamelessly wander over his toned body. He catches your gaze, causing him to lick his bottom lip in anticipation. "Oh I am never letting you out of my grasp now, little one."

You sit up and, without a second thought, throw your shirt off and into the floor. "A bit possessive, are we?" He chuckles a bit darkly. "I don't see you complaining. Besides," he rips your pants off in one fluid motion, purring at the dark spot already staining your panties, "it seems you know who you belong to." His head is almost instantly between your legs, his hands shoving your thighs open effortlessly.

He licks a long stripe up your covered slit, causing you to mewl. "Go ahead, princess, tell me exactly who owns you." This time he places a small kiss just over your clit. "F-fuck, you!" "Hmmm," his hand comes down to smack your pussy with an unnecessary amount of force. "Not good enough. Try again." He lands another smack, this one making tears prick your eyes.

"W-what do y-you want-" you cry out as he lands two more smacks on you. The pain is startling at first, but it quickly has you moaning in pleasure. "How about that fun little nickname you've given so many men that have entered your bedroom?" You squeak, making him chuckle. "Oh come on, there's no way you thought I never heard you. Always had the fucking nerve," another smack, this one even harder, "to cry out for other men while I was in my bedroom dreaming of making those pretty eyes cry in my bed. Come on, call me that sweet little name and I'll fuck you better than any of those assholes could have."

The last smack has you screaming, and you can't seem to care that any of your neighbors could hear. "D-Daddy! Y-You own me! I-it's always been you, I swear daddy! P-Please fuck me, I-I need it!"

He groans loudly before ripping your panties from your body. "I'll have to remember that you beg beautifully once I get you home." Two of his fingers spread you apart, and he smirks at the puddle of essence already pooling on the bed. "So fucking wet for me, aren't you?" He doesn't give you a chance to answer before he buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved.

The sudden onslaught of pleasure makes you try and clamp your thighs closed, but one of his hands shoves it back down. His eyes look up at you as he continues to lap at your drooling pussy. The stare speaks every word he can't at the moment.

This is for his pleasure, not yours, and you're meant to lay back and take what he's giving you.

Your fingers tangle in his raven hair, and the slight pain has him growling against you. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit, sucking harshly, and he shoves two fingers into you without any warning.

You knew beforehand that Choso had slept with at least a few women, so he's not inexperienced, but you never knew that he was this experienced. His long fingers curl into you, pushing against the spot that has you screaming his name to the heavens. He has to rut against your mattress in a desperate attempt to get some sort of relief.

"D-Daddy.. I-I'm g-gonna cum.." He could already tell. Your walls sucked his fingers in as soon as they entered you, so he knew you wouldn't last much longer. "Hmmm," his sharp teeth nip your clit gently, but it still makes you squeak, "I sure hope you aren't telling daddy what you're going to do.. That would be awfully rude of you, little one."

The sheer dominance and control radiating from him has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Since when was your sweet step brother so demanding? "C-can I please cum, daddy? I-It feels t-too good.." You feel that damn smirk against your clit. "Of course, baby. Just scream my name when you do it, okay?"

He really must not like you talking much, because he doesn't let you answer him before he starts ruthlessly pounding his fingers into your cunt. Your entire body arches from the bed as you cry out for him. It takes one last flick of his tongue on your swollen bud to have you writing in the bed, coming completely undone before he even pulled his pants off.

He slows down, but doesn't completely stop, allowing you to ride out your high as he uses his tongue to lap up every drop of sweetness pouring from you. "Good girl, I've got you sweetheart. Are you feeling up for more, or do you need to stop until we go home?"

He sits up, eyeballing your form as he licks his lips clean, ignoring the fact he's dripping your own cum from his chin onto you.

You giggle, still a bit spaced out from the intense orgasm. "W-want you.. inside me, please daddy?" He chuckles softly before reaching to finally unhook your bra and fling it to the side. "Of course baby. Where are your condoms?" "D-Don't have any. I'm on.. the pill." His cheeks flush a bit, but he doesn't question anything else.

He makes quick work of his sweatpants, leaving him in only his boxers. The outline of his cock alone has you snapping back to reality. When he pulls the boxers down, you outwardly moan when it slaps back against his abdomen. He's much bigger than any guy you've had before. Also, it's so.. pretty.

The shaft is a lot like the rest of his skin, a very pale color that almost shines if sunlight hits it. The head is a soft pink, very reminiscent of the blushes he always seemed to get if you teased him too much, with droplets of precum around it. A large vein runs from the underside of it, and you can see it actually throb the more he stares at you.

"See something you like, love?" You whimper at the very affectionate nickname. "I-is it going to fit? I mean.. I've never.." "Don't worry, little one," he gently lays you back, "daddy will get it to fit. If it hurts too much, just let me know. Okay?" he grabs one of your exes' pillows, placing it gently under your lower back. "O-okay, daddy. I trust you."

His smile warms your heart. "That's my good girl. Spread your legs for me." You nod, following his instructions immediately. His hand reaches between the two of you, grabbing his cock and gently rubbing the tip around your entrance. "You sure you want this, Y/N? I don't want you to feel forced." You whimper, nodding instantly. "P-please fuck me, Choso.. I've waited so long.." You spread your legs more, effortlessly enticing him.

When his tip enters you, you're already a moaning mess. It just feels too good. He watches your expressions intently as he slowly pushes into you, searching for any signs of discomfort. Once he's about halfway in, he stops completely.

"How you doin' baby? Any pain?" He leans down to give you a gentle kiss. "G-good. I-it kinda burns, but nothing bad, I promise." He smiles against your mouth and starts to push in again. "We're almost there, little one. Just- fuuuuck." He finally bottoms out, the stretch of it making you whimper loudly and wiggle around. He pants on your face, the scent of you still heavy on his breath.

"S-so fucking tight.. can't believe this is happening..”

He chuckles softly, giving a tentative thrust into your heat. You bite down on your lip, finding both pain and pleasure in the burn that courses through your body. "D-daddy-" He cuts off the rest of your sentence by leaning back onto his knees and grabbing the back of both of your thighs. He manhandles you easily into what you can only assume is a mating press.

"So easy to throw around, aren't you? My pretty baby.." He pulls out of you until only his tip is still inside before slamming back in, causing you to see stars. "You take cock like a pro, baby. I wasn't sure a cute little thing like you could handle it." You tighten around him at his foul language, causing him to growl. "I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby. I'll make sure I'm the only one who can make you scream. You want that, baby? Want daddy to fuck the imprint of his cock into your slutty little hole?"

You throw your head back and cry out for him. "P-please! Make me your little toy, daddy. W-want you to own me.. prove who I belong to, please?" You know you've done it now from the way he snarls at you. However, the sudden ringing of your phone makes both of you freeze. He leans back up to wrap your thighs around his torso.

He's the first to reach to the floor and grab it, still buried deep inside of you. "Oh, lookie there.. a video call. Hello?" Did he-

"Choso? Where is Y/N? Why do you have her phone?" Your ex's voice sounds from the speaker, making your eyes shoot open. You meet Choso's eyes, mouthing the words 'hang up' over and over.

"What does it matter? She dumped you and called me." "Of course she did. Dude, let me talk to her." Choso chuckles darkly, finally thrusting into you, making you squeak loudly despite your best effort to stay quiet.

"What was that?" "Y/N. She's currently.. held up. Or.. down, rather." He smirks at his own joke, reaching down his free hand to start circling your clit with his middle finger. The feeling has you tightening your thighs around his waist.

"You... what?" "Are you deaf and stupid? I said she's busy, aren't you little one?" He smirks down at your form, panting and shaking your head in a desperate, silent plea. This can not be how everyone finds out about this. No way in hell.

Choso's mocking pout makes your face flare up. "She seems a little shy. Let me show you instead." "N-no! Choso I-!" The choking gasp from the phone call shuts you up. Choso's eyes show no mercy as he looks at you almost amused. "That isn't what you should be calling me, is it?"

You look directly at the camera on the back of your phone, your face a deep scarlet color. Before you can correct yourself, the hand that was idly playing with your clit launches up, smacking your cheek with enough force to have your eyes switch to his. He smirks and shoves his index and middle fingers in your mouth without warning, making the ring he wears clack a bit painfully into your teeth.

"Pretty little whore just needs to learn some manners. Don't you, love?" He gets a wicked grin seeing how you blabber around his digits, trying so desperately to behave and give him an answer. "Sorry, princess, I didn't quite hear you. Try again for daddy." He shoves his fingers farther down your throat, causing you to gag and cough. Spit pours out of your kiss bruised lips, making Choso moan above you.

Your teary eyes make him pull his fingers out, wiping the spit across your face. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't speak? Silly little girl. Now, what should you be calling me?" "D-Daddy! I'm s-so sorry.." He groans, running his thumb down your bottom lip. He gently pries your mouth open before leaning over you, letting spit fall from his tongue into your waiting mouth. He purrs as you swallow it so obediently. "I know you are. You're such a good girl for me. Oh, he hung up." Choso chuckles softly and tosses your phone back to the floor.

"I believe that I have some work to finish, right baby?" Both of his hands grab your hips, surely leaving bruises, before he starts to mercilessly ram into your sopping cunt. Your throat is still somewhat raw from his fingers being in it not two minutes ago, but he's determined to pull every sound he can from you.

He slides one hand down, harshly pinching and rolling your swollen clit between two fingers. Your cries only encourage his ruthless actions.

"D-daddy I-I.. something.. something doesn't-" Your pleas are cut off when the hand on your hip actually lifts you off the bed, giving him enough access for the tip of his cock to batter into your cervix.

If you aren't sore tomorrow, he hasn't done his job.

Sweat drips down his forehead and chest as he growls deeply. "There we go baby. T-that's the spot. Cum for daddy, want you screaming until my name is the only t-thing you know." His hand starts slapping your exposed clit again, finally throwing you over the edge. When the coil in your abdomen snaps, you scream his name, raw throat be damned.

Choso hisses as you tighten around his cock, spraying his lower abdomen in your essence. "Sh-shit I-" His sentence trails off when he thrusts into you one more time, letting out an animalistic snarl as his own climax washes over him.

You can feel his cock throb as he unloads his seed deep inside you. The feeling makes you tremble and mewl. There's so much of it that it still manages to spill out, staining the bed sheets under you.

He's still panting pretty heavily when he slides out of you, careful in case you're still too sensitive. When you squeak, he reaches up to cup your cheek. "You did so well, baby. I'm so proud of you." You nuzzle into his hand, placing a small kiss in the palm. "Th-thank you, daddy. I-I'm so tired." When your eyes start to flutter shut, he carefully stands from the bed, shamelessly admiring your disheveled state. "I'm sure you are. Let me get us cleaned up. Then I'll take you home, okay?"

Your small nod is plenty of an answer, so he rushes to the bathroom to search for a rag. He takes only a few seconds to wipe himself clean before rushing back to your side. You wince slightly at the feeling of the cloth wiping you down. "Shhhh, daddy's got you baby. I'll be done in just a second." He smiles to himself as you visibly relax into his touch, allowing him to finish.

"You know," he chuckles as he helps you pull your clothes back on, "your dad is going to try and kill me." "Your mom is going to call me every name in the book." He nods in agreement, finally starting to dress himself.

"So.. should we stay quiet? I imagine shit-for-brain isn't going to, but we can play that off as him being an idiot." You bite your lip, weighing the consequences of either decision.

There's no doubt in your mind, you want to be with Choso. It's clear he's willing to do whatever you want, but from the look in his eyes, the answer is obvious.

"I'm not hiding it." He blinks at you in shock. "B-baby.. your repu-" You stand up, despite your legs screaming in pain. He's quick to rush over and pull you into his chest. "I don't care.. I love you, and I don't want to hide it anymore." You squeak loudly when he picks you up bridal style, holding you easily with one arm.

The kiss he gives you is soft and loving, full of nothing but his affection for you. "I love you too, Y/N. I want nothing more than to tell the world that."

He carries you downstairs to grab your overnight bag, and then out to put you in his car. He really refuses to let you do anything, since he even leans inside to buckle you up. Your protests have him laughing. "When you're with me," he kisses your lips after getting into the driver's seat, "you're the spoiled princess. Got it?"

The drive to his house is quiet. He holds your hand the entire time, stroking along it with his thumb, occasionally bringing it to his mouth and kissing each knuckle.

"Oh.. oh shit." "What?" You open your eyes from almost falling asleep.

Your blood freezes when you see what he's looking at. Your dad's car is already parked in his driveway.

Tags: @katgalle, @savonline

[slowpoke-fics]

Sacrifice

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Pack x Reader

Request Summary: You're Scotts twin sister and make a sacrifice for the good of the pack

Warnings: death, panic attack, angst, murder described, death described, reader death; I know for a fact I've missed some and this one is pretty fucking rough, as always read at your own risk.

A/N: This one is angsty, and just a tad longer than normal, consider it my apology to nonnie for taking so damn long on this request. I hope you guys love it, and again, this one is rough, read at your own risk.

You're able to grab one of the fucking resilient demonic ninja's off of Isaac. You could smell his pain, his blood, and you could smell Allisons determination. The second one on Isaac was shot with Allisons arrow, it's glowing green, fighting with the clear pain it's experiencing. With a split decision you're next to Allison, pushing her out of the way, a sharp pain through your chest, and then you're numb.

Allison's face is rampant with fear, her shirt holding a tiny cut that didn't grace the skin. Good, she's okay, and then you're falling.

You don't hit the ground though, your brother, Scott, holding your face with a stray tear falling down his face. You reach up and wipe it away, "It's okay Scotty, it doesn't hurt." Scott chokes back a sob, his hand gently rubbing yours, "Is everyone else okay?" Scott starts to speak, his voice betraying him, sounding mangled, "Yeah, everyone is okay Y/n, you're gonna be okay too." You shook your head, "Not in the way you think I am," Scott finally releases a sob, "no, no, big brother," he tries to laugh, trying to give you a little peace with your joke that even though he's minutes older, he's still older, "it's okay, yeah? Me and you, fighting tooth and nail. This was the best gift I could've ever gotten, I love you, and I love the pack. This is okay." You reach behind him, fingers tangled into his hair, you pull him to you and kiss his forehead. "Don't let them blame themselves, and don't blame yourself," another kiss to his cheek, "I love you big brother."

Scott's memories with you flashes before his eyes as the color in yours goes out, how did we get here?

"Scott! You okay?" You look over his body for injuries, he hisses at you making contact with his torso. "Scott, what's wrong? Did you get bit by something too?" Scott's eyebrows raise, "What do you mean 'too'? Did you get bit?" You roll your eyes and turn around, shirt stained with blood, "Yeah, I managed to get away from the fucker while rolling down some hill, now let me see yours." You swat him away, lifting his shirt and taking a good look at the bite mark, "Okay, not too bad, you fix me up and I'll fix you up? Not a word to mom, got it?" Scott nods, walking with you into the house to take care of the bite marks.

Scott can't feel anything, surrounded by you, your lifeless body. His anger, no, pain, soars through him as his eyes glow, a roar deep within him. The only thing anyone in his pack can hear is the scream from Lydia's lips and the roar of pain from Scott.

Isaac barely notices the sound around him, only his own heartbeat in his ears as he listened to yours fade away.

"Isaac you fucking idiot!" You slapped Isaac on the back of the head, he looks at you with lost, glowing, puppy dog eyes, "Sorry, Y/n." His eyes dull to his normal brown and you frown, "You've gotta do better honey, you can't lose control like that, you'll kill someone and I know that's not what you want." Isaac sits on the metal bench in the locker room, head in his hands, "I don't know that I'll ever be able to."

You sigh, sitting next to him with your hand rubbing his back, "You will, just give it time, until then, you've gotta find something that works for you, something that prevents you from breaking someone fucking ribs Isaac." You voice becomes elevated again towards the end, irritated at Isaac's recklessness. "Yeah," he leans his head down to your shoulder, "I know firecracker."

Scott is blind to the feeling on his bloody hand, only noticing it when Allison's tears hit it. Allison brushes a hair out of your face, you looked peaceful, she's eternally grateful for you, for what you did for her tonight and what you've done for her up until this point.

"Allison, fuck," you huff, pulling yourself up from the ground, "let's do it again, I know that this isn't you, your aim is perfect, let it all go and focus on me okay?" She sighs, shaking the bow in her hand, "Maybe the fact that I could actually hurt you isn't helping." You're eye to eye with her, both hands on her face, eyes glowing, "No, you won't hurt me, I'm invincible remember?" She laughs, shaking her head, "Alright, last time." You grin ear to ear and took off running. Allison brings the bow up, listening to you run. She sees glimpses of you, through the trees, and the arrow is gone. She sighs, she didn't hit you, she's shouting at you "I told you! I can't do it!"

You touch her back, startling her, she lets out a small yelp and turns to you. Her eyes go wide when she sees the arrow sticking out of your shoulder. "Oh, Jesus Y/n," her bow drops and she's bringing her hands up to try and get it to stop bleeding. "Oh quit being a pussy and pull it out," you rolled your eyes, grabbing her wrist and bringing it to the arrow in your shoulder. "I'm so sorry I hit you-" she pulls it out and you let out a long groan, already feeling better with the object dislodged. "Don't be sorry, you hit me, let's do it again." Allisons eyes widen, if that's even possible, and shakes her head, "No, absolutely not." You laugh, "Lighten up buttercup, I'm invincible remember? And this time I'm not going easy." She scoffs at you, "Easy? Oh I see how it is, run little wolf, run." With that, you take off running, Allison laughing at your excitement.

Kira is frozen, she feels like she died, you were her best friend. Over anyone else, you'd been the first to accept her, the first to fight for her, the first one she'd confided in.

"Kira, what the hell are you saying?" You're sitting with your arms crossed at a picnic table, nose in your homework. "I-I know that we were friends first, so I was going to tell you first, before I said any-" You slam your hand one the table, "Kira, baby, spit it out, fuck." This is the you realize that Kira's scent holds fear and anxiety. "Kira, what's wrong?" You're more serious now, waiting for the bomb to drop that there's another fight to be had. "I like Scott, like like him, Jesus please don't be mad." You burst into full laughter, tears streaming from your eyes.

When you calm down Kira is staring at you, piddling with the strings on her sleeves. "Oh, my god," you laugh again, trying to calm yourself. "You're not mad?" You laugh harder, smacking the table a few times, "Jesus Christ no, I can't believe-" you stand up still laughing, hugging her. "I don't give a shit," rubbing her back, "you had nothing to worry about, as long as you don't get mad if I fuck your dad." Kira jerks back, shock on her face, "Y/n!" You laugh harder, "I'm fucking kidding, jeez," you sit back down, "fucking sit down and gush to me about my brother."

She shakes herself out of it when she feels her mother enclose her in a hug. Tears finally falling.

Lydia's scream has finally ended, and she's inconsolable. Memories flooding through her head as she lays her head on an unconscious Stiles.

"Lydia god dammit," you truck to the pool, "did you find another one?" You stop at the strong scent of blood, rushing to Lydia, Stiles right behind you. "Are you hurt?" Lydia shakes her head, staring at you, "I already called 911." Stiles looks hurt, arguing with Lydia over why she should call him before the police, but you push him to the side. "Heya honey," you wrap your arms around her waist, "it's okay, don't listen to Stiles grumpy ass, let's me and you go sit." You're not sure why you aren't phased by the body next to you, but you let Stiles do whatever he needs to do for Scott while you try and get Lydia's head back down to Earth.

"Hey Lyds, dontcha think you're a little overdressed to come to the pool?" She lets out a small chuckle and you relax a little, "This can't be my new normal, Y/n. Finding dead bodies? I can't take this." You hold her hand, sighing, "None of us asked for this Lydia, I'm so sorry. If you want I can stay with you for a few days, follow you if you zonk out again?" Lydia just nods, and she feels for the first time that you're as much her best friend as Allison.

Lydia can't stop crying, Scott is trying to get ahold of himself, Kira is crying with her mother, Isaac is breathless and in pain, and Allison is held by her father.

"She did it for me dad," Allison sobs, her father already made sure she wasn't hurt, "she did it for me and I don't know why." Chris shushes her, running his fingers through her hair, grateful for your sacrifice so his beautiful girl could live. "She did it because she loved you," Allison sobs harder, "I know sweet girl, but listen, we have to deal with this. You can cry, scream, break things later, but now? Now we get our stories straight." Allison nods, and her dad is off to Scott to prep him.

When Stiles finds out, it's like every cell in his body failed him. Scott caught him and pulled him into a hug, tears streaming down his face. "I know. I know brother." Stiles can't breathe, it's been a long time since he's had a panic attack, but here he is, without you, panicking.

"Stiles," you sigh, throwing a ball against his ceiling and back into your hand, sprawled out on his bed, "you've gotta stop." Stiles shakes his head, "No, no there is something here!" He tosses the books to the floor, you get off the bed, wrapping your arms around him from behind, "You'll find it but you're not going to without sleep. Come on." You tug him back to his bed, "Let's nap, and then we'll come back to all," you gesture to his board covered in multicolored string, "this." Stiles sighs heavily, letting you pull him to the bed. It's not the first time, and certainly wouldn't be the last, that you've convinced him to sleep. He crawls in next to you and you throw your arm open, allowing him to lay his head over your heart. He falls asleep to the lull of the thump thump thump.

Stiles shakes himself out of the memory, remembering that he'll never hear that beautiful sound again and vows to hold onto it. He lets out a pained, choked sob, "Scott-" Scotts arms are around him still, Scott can smell the guilt coming off of the small man, "Don't - It was not your fault Stiles. It wasn't anyone's fault." Scott lets Stiles cry, mourn his best friend, the woman he's come to love like his own sister. "Have you told Derek?" Scott sighs, Stiles already knows the answer.

When they get to Derek's place, Derek opens the door, already smelling them and their horribly displaced emotions. "What is it?" Scott lets himself in, Stiles following close behind him and he's checking for his little flame, and when you're nowhere to be found, his heart sinks. "Where's Y/n?" Derek can smell the grief coming off of Scott in waves, not missing the anger that hides beneath it. "Fuck, my little flame," his voice sounds broken, barely audible to the human boy who stares sorrowful at him.

"Derek Hale!" You kick the door open to home, "Derek Hale! Get your ass out here!" Derek almost materializes behind you, but you're just as quick as he is. "Derek Hale! I oughtta kill you, you son of a bitch!" You march to him, taking him off guard by your fist that collides into his face. He's knocked back a couple feet, staring at you with glowing eyes. Your eyes match his, "I am not afraid of your eyes, wolf boy! You turned three people!" Derek shrugs, "So what if I did?" You go for a second punch, this time caught by Derek, he can't smell a single ounce of fear, only fury.

"They knew what they were getting into," Derek lets go of your hand. "Oh, fuck you, Derek," you shove him back, "you can spin that stupid story to whoever you want, but you and I know better." Derek shrugs, "So what? They're better now, stronger, and they like it." You let out a deep growl, "Did you tell them about the death?" You step forward towards him, "Did you tell them how they'd be pulled into every murder in this town?" You shove him back again, following his step backwards, "Did you tell them of the pain? Did you? Of course not." Your hand grasps his chin, squeezing painfully with your claws out, making him look at you, "Hear me Derek Hale and hear me good. If anything," you squeezed him harder, bringing a hiss from him, "and I mean anything, happens to them, I will hurt you." You back away and head out of his house, stopping at his door, "And trust me, I'm a fire you can't put out." He laughs, watching you walk away, but mumbling just where you can barely hear, "I have a feeling I don't want to be burned by your flame."

A growl explodes from his lips, pain filling his entire being. You've been the glue that holds them all together, bringing them back from the brink again and again. How could they survive without you?

Months after your death, they've settled back into the groove of things, nothing ever feels the same without you though.

They talk about you all the time, Stiles has a tendency to try and calm people down like you did. Trying to help keep everyone grounded. He's nowhere near as good at it like you were, but he's trying. Allison keeps your memory around by never changing her lock screen, a picture of everyone in the pack resting on the screen she checks every five minutes. Isaac has found a new anchor, with Scott's help, using himself to be able to control the rage that flurries inside of him after your death. Lydia lives for adopting your fire, absolutely never keeping her mouth shut much to everyone's dismay, but it's a way to keep your image around. Kira has become closer to Allison and Lydia, but she knows they'll never replace you. They don't laugh at her like you did when she talks about Scott, and it's a painful memory. Derek's become much more involved with Scott's pack, dedicated to doing what he can for not fighting by your side the right you died, a debt he'll never repay. Scott finds his peace in his pack, but the hole in his heart for his sister will never fade, like the newly placed fire tattoo on his forearm will never fade.

They are all eternally grateful.

They all know it'll never be the same.

They all hate your sacrifice.

[idy-ll-ique]

a manny and a pedi

pairing: steve rogers x f!reader

genre: fluff, mild angst

warnings: lil bit of violence

requested: by @maximeevansblog

Its almost mine birthday so, a one with Steve, it is the readers birtday and steve is taking the reader to the hair and nail salon, and that night he has a suprise party for the reader and he is nervous that she wont like his gift but she loves his gift

word count: ~1.3k

summary: it was supposed to be "y/n y/l/n, will you marry me?" it was supposed to be romantic. why, then, did it become "that's my fiancée, you fucking asshole!" "your... your what?"

author's note: hiya peeps! okay firstly, happy birthday @maximeevansblog ! hope you have a wonderful birthday! also, im sorry if i changed your prompt a tiny bit, i hope you still like it. enjoy!

masterlist

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"Hey lover boy, what—"

"Oh Jesus Christ, Barnes!" Steve exclaimed, startled. Bucky laughed and clapped him on the back once. "What are you doing here, are you spying?" he teased his best friend, peeking past him to look into the room outside which he found Steve standing. Y/N was inside the room, talking to a guy while holding a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

"Y/N?! Your own girlfriend, Rogers?" Bucky admonished harshly in a whisper, pulling Steve away from the door. "It's not— I trust her completely, honest! It's the guy she's talking to, Manny. I swear to God he's trying to steal her from me—"

"Nobody is stealing me, Rogers, Manny's just a friend! No ulterior motives, he has already promised like a thousand times," Steve heard behind him and whirled around to see Y/N standing there with a smirk, an eyebrow raised. "You taking snooping lessons from Barnes now?" he muttered, "I know babe, I just—"

"Just nothing, Stevie, be happy! It's my birthday!" she laughed and gave him a tight hug, burrowing into his arms. To be honest, Y/N knew about Manny's intentions and Steve was right to worry; he flirted with her all the time, even when she insisted she was dating the ex-Captain America. But she knew better than to worry Steve.

He soothingly rubbed her back, swatting Bucky's hand away when he tried to run his fingers through her hair. "Stop it, that's my girlfriend," he pouted and both Bucky and Y/N burst out laughing. "She's like a sister; jeez, Rogers, tone it down a little bit," Bucky sighed and waved at the couple, walking away.

Steve and Y/N decided to go back to their room. They had been in a relationship for around 4 years now, and they weren't planning on stopping, ever. The only time Y/N would become Steve's ex-girlfriend was when she became his wife. Which he hoped she'd become soon, since he had a special birthday planned for her.

First, he was going to take her to a hair salon, then a manicure and pedicure, and finally, a picnic under the stars. There, he was finally going to pop the question: Y/N, will you marry me? After his retirement, that was all he wanted. A stable life; a wife, kids, maybe some pets. He was even ready to be a trophy husband, as Y/N was still in the Avengers Initiative.

"Steve? Steve!" He snapped out of his thoughts and gave Y/N a sheepish smile. "Sorry, pumpkin, lost in thoughts. So, uh, the flowers look nice," he stammered, looking everywhere but at the flowers which Y/N was putting in a vase. "Oh hush Rogers, you don't have to pretend to like them for me, I get it. I was just like that with you, you know?"

It was true, in the beginning of their relationship Y/N was what Steve was now. Jealous, overprotective, obsessed… somewhere along the line the roles were reversed. "I know, honey, I'm sorry… they're a birthday gift, I should be happy for you." He walked towards her and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her neck.

"It's fine. So, I've received everyone's gift but yours, where is it?" she grinned coyly, reaching up to cup his cheek. Steve smirked against her skin and spun her around, bringing them back chest to chest. "In my pants," he whispered seductively. A few seconds passed and both of them burst out laughing.

"I swear to God, Stevie, if that's your only gift I'm gonna be really disappointed." Steve pouted and leaned forward to give her a sweet kiss. "First of all, ouch," he began, "And second, no that's not the only gift. I have a really fun day planned for us, you up for it?" Y/N's eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly, jumping into his arms. "Aw, Steve, I love you so much!"

"I love you too, princess. Now for the first gift—"

"Ste— oh…"

---

"I. Look. Freaking. Amazing!"

Steve smiled softly as Y/N admired herself in the mirror. They had just returned from the mani-pedi session, and Y/N was feeling the most refreshed she had in years. She had also gotten a fantastic new hairstyle, complete with a different hair colour. Y/N was feeling like a new person, all thanks to Steve. She turned to him with a huge smile.

"Words cannot express how much I love you," she began, giving him a tight hug, "But numbers can. 1 million out of 10!" Steve laughed at her excitement, gently playing with her hair as he held her close. "But the best part awaits: the picnic! We still have a few hours to go, maybe I can go some for training?"

"Sure, and I'm going to take some pictures and post them to all my social media sites! Oh my God, this is fantastic—" Steve laughed at Y/N's squeals and left the room, feeling giddier and happier than he was in the morning. You see, Steve was kind of nervous the whole day. First, it was because of Manny, second, he was worried she wouldn't like his gifts and third, will she say yes?

Two out of the three concerns were gone. It was the pesky last one that ran through his mind the whole time he was in the gym. After an hour, Steve decided to go back to their room to relax for a while under the Air Conditioner; he didn't want to be a smelly, sweaty mess on the most important night of his life.

As he was walking towards their room, though, Steve happened to bump into Y/N. And… Manny. Manny took one step forward, Y/N took a step back. One step forward, one step back as Y/N held her hands out in front of her, protecting herself. Without even bothering to know the full story, Steve rushed over and punched Manny straight on the nose.

He fell back with a groan as Y/N gasped, covering her mouth. "That's my fiancée, you fucking asshole! Have some respect for other people's relationships, she said no, no means no!" he yelled, so loud that a few others came over to check on them. Bucky, Sam, Peter, Tony, Wanda, Vision, Bruce and Natasha, all stood a few feet away, watching with wide eyes.

Y/N's head snapped towards Steve when he called her his fiancée. "Your… your what?" she whispered, and Steve finally realized what he had blurted out. Shit. "I… I was going to ask you tonight at the picnic— it was supposed to be romantic, damn it Manny, you ruined—" His speech was cut short as Y/N immediately took him in her arms, kissing him deeply.

"Yes, Steve, I will marry you," she mumbled with a small, teary smile that Steve mimicked as he brought her in for another kiss. They only stopped when they heard the massive applause coming from the others. "Congratulations, you guys, this is brilliant news! Who's the best man?" Sam hollered.

Steve hugged Y/N closer, wiping his tears off with a chuckle. "Well, I was thinking—"

"I'll be honored," Sam grinned, scowling when Bucky smacked him across the head. "He was going to ask me," Bucky sneered and Steve rolled his eyes. "If you keep bickering like that, I'll ask Bruce," he snarked and Bruce laughed as both Bucky and Sam quieted instantly. "Where's the fucking ring, Rogers, there's no proposal without a ring!"

"The ring is in the bedroom, I was training and that's no place for a precious jewel," Steve answered and Y/N smiled into his arms, burrowing her face further into his chest.

"Yes, the hair salon was great. The mani and pedi— not that Manny, Steve— was also great. But this, by far, was the best birthday present I got today," she whispered to him. "What about the sex? Am I becoming an old man now—" Y/N pushed Steve with a disgusted look on her face as everyone else gagged and groaned. "Rogers, it was a sweet moment!"

"Sorry, sorry, couldn't help myself, it just came— there it is again!"

"Blergh, fuck you, man!"

"I deserved it."

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a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you liked it!