#he never found an old au and took it over

[andypantsx3]

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑣

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike.All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, knotting, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 7.6k | chapter 4 of 4

Then

“Shouto duty,” was the first thing Touya grumbled as he emerged from his house.

A little shadow with red and white hair peered out from behind him, big eyes staring up at you. Shouto was dressed in a periwinkle t-shirt and khaki shorts in the late spring heat, and he was nearly vibrating with excitement. You reached out reflexively to pat that fluff of hair, and Shouto seemed to lean into your touch like a cat, probably starved of affection from his fussy older brother.

“My lucky day,” you said, grinning at the way it made Touya roll his eyes.

Shouto nearly launched himself off the steps, looking quietly thrilled to be tagging along. He shoved himself in between you and Touya as you walked, as if unable to bear Touya’s proximity to you, making Touya bark out an annoyed, “Oi, watch it.”

Shouto ignored him, turning to you. “Y/N, I have something to tell you.”

You looked down at him curiously. “What?”

“I lost a tooth,” he said, staring up at you seriously. You laughed, knowing most kids would have smiled to show off their tooth gap, but Shouto had always been a little bit more withdrawn, though he was fairly open around you.

“When?” you asked, ignoring Touya’s scoff. “Did the tooth fairy come?”

Shouto nodded. “Last night. I am adding the money to my inheritance for you.”

That made you laugh again, and you bumped his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Shouto. I think you should buy yourself something with it though. Especially in this weather—it’s good popsicle weather.”

Shouto looked like he was seriously considering this. “Do you like popsicles?”

You nodded. “Definitely.”

He seemed to pocket that information, and you hid a fond smile. That kid was too sweet for his own good, when it came to you. You wondered when his little case of older-brother’s-friend worship would end. You hoped not for another few years, at least.

“Fucking finally,” Touya said when he caught sight of Rumi and Keigo at the end of his neighborhood, his booted steps growing faster, as if eager to get away from the two of you.

You didn’t mind—Shouto was easy company.

“Oi!” Keigo called out to you, waving a skinny arm. You accompanied Shouto over, watching with a little bit of self-satisfaction when Shouto ducked a hair ruffle from Rumi, the look on his face almost reminiscent of Touya.

You were still his favorite, it seemed.

The usual round of arguments commenced about what to play now that all of you were united, Touya snottily vetoing everyone’s suggestions—except, notably, Keigo’s. Eventually you settled on hide and seek, something Shouto could participate in too, since it didn’t involve convoluted rules, and established a set distance you could go.

Finally Shouto was dubbed the first seeker, and the rest of you took off into the surrounding neighborhood.

You immediately beelined for the sprawling oak at the edge of the neighborhood, its thick, leafy branches the perfect place to conceal yourself. Touya, Keigo, and Rumi had long caught on to the fact that you were almost always to be found up a tree, but Shouto hadn’t played this game with you before.

Thirty seconds and one bark-scraped palm later had you settled in your hiding place, just as you caught Shouto’s shout from afar, “Ready or not, here I come!”

You quieted your breath, listening for the sound of his approach. This late in spring, the cicadas were already roaring. The leaves rustled around you in the breeze and you could hear some other band of kids shrieking and laughing, far in the distance.

It was nearing ten minutes on by the time you heard the thump of Shouto’s sneakers approaching, and you could just make out that distinct mop of bright hair through the branches. He poked around behind bushes, peering at eye level, but didn’t seem to think to look up for you. You watched him hunt through the surrounding area, then dash off when you heard a distinctly Keigo squawk not too far away.

You were nearly asleep on your tree branch when you heard his return, and you sat up quietly to watch him again. You were impressed that he seemed to know you were somewhere nearby.

As you watched him rifle around, you wondered if you should drop a hint, just because he’d been so sweet to you earlier. He’d been so adorable insisting he’d save you his tooth money.

You deliberately rustled a branch, leaning on it so it made a loud creak.

Immediately, Shouto’s head snapped up. Two mismatched eyes narrowed in on you, and his face seemed to brighten when he saw you. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

“Caught you,” he called up to you.

You stuck a leg down tauntingly. “Not yet.”

Something passed over Shouto’s face, and his gaze seemed to sharpen. “I have, too.” You could almost hear a foot stamp in his voice.

You grinned. “Not until I get down.”

A determined look settled across Shouto’s features, and he prowled over to the tree. You watched him jump for a lower branch, catching it securely before hefting himself up. His arms were skinny, but his movements were sure, intent. In no time at all you were helping lever him onto your own branch, pulling him up alongside you.

“I caught you,” Shouto repeated, settling a proprietary hand on your arm. His hand was warm, and his fingers caught your wrist tightly.

You smiled. “I let you catch me by making all that noise, you mean.”

A tiny frown pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I knew you were around here,” he said, something almost like a pout in his voice.

You laughed. “I did notice you came back. Those are some good tracking skills—although don’t forget to look up. I’m usually always up a tree, when it comes to hide and seek, and Touya and the others I think have caught on too. They’re probably up their own trees somewhere.”

“I do not care about finding them,” Shouto said. His straightforward tone startled a laugh out of you.

You settled back against the branch, Shouto still gripping your arm firmly. “Should we let them wait, then?” you asked, grinning. “I bet Rumi will come out on her own pretty soon, she’s so impatient.”

Shouto nodded. “I will stay here with you.”

The sincerity of the statement warmed you, the way Shouto’s serious little proclamations always did. He was too sweet for this earth. “Then shall we discuss which popsicle you’re going to get later? I have some recommendations.”

Shouto nodded seriously, and you launched into your nonsense, pleased. The leaves rustled around you, the breeze cool and pleasant against your skin. It felt like time stretched out around you, thick like taffy, slow and lazy and easy in the late spring breeze.

You thought absently that wished you could have a million more moments, Shouto the easiest company beside you, just like this.

Now

The morning of the run dawned warm and dry, sunny with a light breeze.

It was perfect hiking weather, and that was the only thing that kept you in good spirits. You tried not to think about Shouto—about how he was going after someone today, how you’d possibly seen him for the last time before he did. He’d said he’d find your tree, but there was really no guarantee his omega was going to run in the same direction as you.

You ate breakfast on the couch with your mother, listening to her excitedly chatter about your prospects today. You hammed it up a little bit, pretending you had any interest in being chased by an alpha, so that you could milk it later and avoid promises to commit to next year’s run. You hoped it would be enough of a deterrent for her—every year you grew older without a mate, she seemed more desperate to find you one.

You repacked your bags, readying yourself to board your train back to the city tomorrow, feeling mournful. Then you spent the rest of the morning finishing up the small things your mother had let go while you were gone, YouTubing your way through a door knob repair, and some weather stripping replacements. You lifted her air-conditioning into the window, swearing and sweating the whole time and wishing you had even a fraction of Shouto’s easy alpha strength.

After everything was finished, you packed up for the run, placing all your snacks and the sandwich Shouto had helped assemble into a small backpack, stuffing in a water and a book after. Then you scrounged around in your clean laundry for some hiking clothes, settling on leggings and a tee-shirt, no reason to try to impress anyone.

It was late morning by the time you ducked out of your house and started the trek to the preserve on the edge of town. Throngs of people were already gathered when you got there, alphas and omegas alike crowding the entrance. An overwhelming mixture of scents washed over you, the sweetness and florals of the omegas, the tang and spice of the alphas, even the small muted underwash of a few betas.

The overstimulation was nostalgic, and brought to mind your first few runs—the anticipatory hope you felt, the determination not to get caught for some one-time mating with an alpha who wouldn’t prove to be your life mate. It had been years, and you knew the outcome already this time, but some small thrill of anticipation thrummed in your veins regardless.

You kept to the edge of the crowd, sprawling out on the grass until the organizers called for the omegas and running betas to come forward to their starting mark. The alphas and remaining betas would be called to the mark a half hour later, to follow their intended targets into the preserve.

Then the whistle was being blown, and the crowd of omegas around you surged into the forest.

The first hundred meters of the preserve were a tangle of wild trees and overgrowth—omegas typically stayed on the trails until the forest opened up, several paths intersecting and leading away into hills and towards a pond, with the last one stretching towards the coast. This was your usual route and you followed it until the trees thinned out, then stepped off the path to tromp through the woods in the direction of the coastline.

You kept a brisk pace, wanting to get as far in as you could before the alphas were let in. Eventually the spruces and firs gave way to mostly coastal scrub pines amid tall grass, and you could smell the ocean through the trees, hear the crash of the waves against the rocky outcroppings.

You stepped out of the woods along a small coastal path that stretched for miles, and followed it a few minutes more until it flattened out. There was a small meadow laid into the coastline, spanning several square meters of pale seagrass and flowering bushes, shaded by an enormous willow tree—your target.

The meadow had a beautiful view of the shining blue waves through the barren scrub trees, but more importantly it was out of the way, little known to people who did not frequent the coastline trails. The willow was the perfect cover, its trailing fingers and dense greenery more than enough to hide one disinterested beta.

You ducked through the leaves, latching onto one of the lower branches and heaving yourself up. It had been years since you’d climbed anything—the city not exactly chalk-full of great climbing trees—but you were pleased to find it just as satisfying. You scrambled up into the canopy, testing your weight against your designated branch, finding it still held you easily.

Perfect.

You immediately rewarded yourself with a granola bar, settling onto your branch and chewing contentedly, pleased with the temperature. The sun was hot, but in the shade of the leaves and the salty breeze drifting in off the sea, it was perfectly comfortable.

You’d just gotten out your book to read, flipping to the spot you’d last left off at, when the chirp of nearby birds stopped. The meadow seemed to grow quiet around you.

You sat up, alert, at the soft tread of a bootfall close by. Your breath froze in your lungs. An omega, looking for a place to hide? Or some alpha?

Except then a long-fingered hand parted the hanging tendrils of the willow, and a familiar head of scarlet and white hair was ducking inside the canopy.

Embarrassingly, your heart swelled. Shouto had made time to stop in before finding his omega.

“Shouto!” you shouted down, pleased.

Shouto’s face tipped up to you, a tiny smile on his mouth. He looked especially good today, you thought, a navy tee shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, baring the flesh of his biceps, a flush on his cheeks from the warm spring sun. He looked a little taken apart, windswept like he’d run here, and you furiously stamped down on the flash of heat in your tummy.

Nope. No.

“Y/N,” Shouto intoned quietly, his eyes glittering up at you. “Caught you.”

You were momentarily taken aback by the sound of something unfamiliar in his tone, some strange intensity in his voice and expression. It sounded almost like it meant something to find you here, something more than a momentary pitstop on his way to his omega—but of course that was ridiculous.

You waved down at him, smiling and sticking a leg down tauntingly like when you were kids. “Not yet.”

Shouto’s eyes narrowed, a flash of something predatory tinging his handsome features.

In the blink of an eye, he crossed to the tree, dense muscle coiling and pulling beneath his tee shirt as he pulled himself up. This time he needed none of your help, moving with a panther-like grace. He pulled himself onto the branch immediately below yours, close enough that it put him at eye level with the bottom of your chin.

Then he reached out and snared your ankle in one large, warm hand, a smug sort of glint in his eye. The follow up caught you went unspoken.

Another laugh bubbled up out of you. “Alright alright, this time you got me,” you agreed, flexing your ankle in his hold.

Shouto’s mouth turned up, clearly pleased, but he did not let go. A thumb stroked softly along the hollow beneath your ankle bone. A surprised shiver caught you, sliding up your spine.

“You, um, got here so quick,” you said, trying to think past the sudden fuzz of static in your brain. You hoped your voice sounded impressed and not embarrassingly breathy. “Did you at least note which way your life mate went?”

Shouto’s head tilted, his bangs falling into his eyes as his thumb petted across your skin again. “I did.”

You nodded approvingly, tensing against another shudder. “Did they come out this way? You’re probably the first alpha to make it out here but you won’t want to waste too much time.”

Shouto’s mouth twitched, those heterochromatic eyes trailing down your face. “No time spent with you is a waste.”

That made your face warm. You tried to prod him with your foot, but Shouto’s grip was firm. “You’re going to want to save the charm for your life mate, mister.”

“I am,” he said simply, tone sincere.

You felt your brow furrow—now what was that supposed to mean?—when suddenly Shouto leaned forward, abandoning his grip on your ankle. His hands found the branch at either side of your hip, trapping you inside his reach. You stared down at him, stunned with his sudden proximity.

You felt suddenly a little caged in, your breath pulling up short. What was he—?

“Will you come down to me?” Shouto asked, eyes intent on yours.

The ask felt significant, though you had no idea how. And he was so close, so focused on you.

But you had no clue exactly what he would need you to come down for. Maybe he wanted to split lunch or something? You had your sandwich in your bag, and it would be easier on the ground, you supposed.

Although Shouto probably shouldn’t go running around on too full a stomach, especially if he—with his omega, after—if they…

You found you couldn’t think it, your mind shying away like you’d prodded a nerve.

Really, Shouto should be going soon, before any ranging alphas made it this far out and sniped his life mate before he got to them.

With that thought, however, some selfish thing recoiled inside of you. You desperately craved just a few more minutes with him—this achingly familiar boy, this mind-numbingly beautiful man—before he wasn’t really yours to think of anymore. These were the last few moments you’d get to spend with him before everything changed. It took less than a second to make up your mind.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “I’ll come down.”

You shifted, gathering your backpack and maneuvering off your branch carefully. Shouto gave you just enough space to get down, a hand finding your waist as you steadied yourself. He shadowed you down, close at your back to make sure you didn’t slip.

He was acting the consummate gentleman—but there was a strange tension about him, something about the way he moved and the intensity with which he was trailing you. There was something expectant about it, something almost impatient.

Maybe he needed you to hurry up so he could get going. That was probably it.

You turned to your backpack as soon as he guided you safely to the ground. You’d barely gotten it unzipped, however, when Shouto suddenly crowded into your space, startling you.

You stumbled a reflexive step back, breath whooshing out of you when your back connected with the trunk of the willow. Shouto followed, still watching you with that unnerving intensity.

His fingers dipped under your chin, softly turning your face up to his. His gaze was serious—more solemn than you had ever seen him. You went still in his grasp, heartbeat rabbiting in your chest.

What was with him today?

“Shouto,” you said slowly. “Are you… alright?”

Shouto leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. His slow exhale ghosted over your mouth, thumb stroking across your jaw. It sent a swarm of shudders down your spine, and you suddenly weren’t breathing at all.

“I have dreamed of this moment a thousand times,” Shouto said, his tone reverent. It was almost a whisper.

His tone implied there was something incredibly significant about this moment, but you could not for the life of you think of what. Especially not with his face so close, clouding up your thoughts.

You felt your brow furrow against his, and you opened your mouth to ask him what on earth he could be talking about.

Except before you could, Shouto’s hands took either side of your face. And then he bent his head—and pressed his mouth to yours.

All higher thought immediately evacuated your brain, leaving only a sudden zing of panic and the horrible, wonderful excitement of Shouto’s mouth on yours, of Shouto’s strong body so close to yours. Rough bark scraped against your back as Shouto’s front slotted warm and firm against your chest, and the feeling of all that strength pressed so tightly to you made you dizzy.

“Sho–-? Whuh—?” you said, slightly muffled into his mouth.

But Shouto only took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, soft and wet and so unbelievably hot your brain short circuited. Every single nerve ending in your body lit up as you realized Todoroki Shouto had his tongue in your mouth, and that he was kissing you so thoroughly and meticulously it felt as though this was the last kiss he’d ever be allowed. You heard yourself let out a gasp that turned into an embarrassing moan as he pressed harder against you, pinning you between himself and the tree.

Your mind felt like it was melting, Shouto’s mouth doing terrible things to your thoughts’ coherence. Your hands went to his shoulders, and you found yourself opening up to him, every inch of your skin hot. Every flick of his tongue, every brush of his lips felt better than you could have ever imagined, and you were helpless to do anything but let him have you.

Your thoughts were a puddle when Shouto finally let your mouth free. All you could do was stare up at him, shocked.

“Y/N,” Shouto said, his eyes searching your face. “You came down for me.”

His handsome face wore an expression you hadn’t ever seen before as he regarded you, something almost—possessive? His hands had slid to your waist, his touch hot through the material of your shirt.

Your brain swam. Words, what were words? “I—? Uh, yes—?”

Shouto seemed to understand you weren’t getting his point. “‘If I’m not an alpha, and I have to hide somewhere, I’m going to find the best tree in the preserve and go up it and not come down until I find my life mate,’” he said.

It sounded like a quote, and it took you an embarrassingly long moment to realize it was something you had said, years and years and years ago, when you were both kids.

Was he saying—? But that was absurd. No, there was no way. You hadn’t—he wasn’t—

“But you’re Shouto,” you groped around your thoughts for logic and reasoning. “You’re Shouto.”

Shouto watched you patiently, a white eyebrow raising slightly.

“You can’t mean—?” you sputtered. “No. You’re Touya’s baby brother. I’m too old for you. The first time I held you, you were a baby.”

Shouto pressed impossibly closer to you, a long-fingered hand winding its way into yours. “I am not a child, Y/N. And you are not that much older than I.”

You struggled to think through the feeling of his body pressed to yours. You knew it. You knew he wasn’t a child. But all the same, you’d spent long enough telling yourself he’d been meant for someone else. Long enough convinced that you were too old for him.

Long enough that you were absolutely certain this had to be a mistake.

“You’re off limits,” you told him, trying to press him back. Shouto did not budge, however, as solid as stone under your hand.

“You are my life mate,” he said. He raised your joined hands to his mouth, kissing over your knuckles. An electric jolt went through you at the feeling of that mouth on you again, firm and warm. “I have known my whole life. I am off limits to all but you.”

A storm of emotion churned in your gut, everything from guilt to disbelief to pleasure to relief. To hear it said so plainly, after all this time—you are my life mate—by a man who was already so beloved to you. By a boy you’d loved as a friend, a man who you wanted to love as more.

But you couldn’t—he had to deserve better.

“I won’t take advantage of you,” you insisted.

A small smile pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I am not a child. And I am an alpha besides. Your alpha.”

You fought down a furious flush.

“But Shouto there’s so many things–!” you insisted. Beyond being older than him, beyond being a staple in his life since he was young. You were quickly realizing so many of the promises he’d made when he was younger, he actually meant.

“Your inheritance—I never meant to accept that from you for real. And your family, they would not like that I—”

The rest of your words were muffled in Shouto’s mouth, as he bent his head and kissed you again. A flick of his tongue turned even that into a muffled squeak instead. Why was he so good at this?

“Much of my family understands what it means to pursue something singularly,” Shouto said against your lips. “What it means to give everything you have in service of pursuit.”

Your stomach flipped. The Todoroki single-mindedness that you had been convinced had skipped right over Shouto. Suddenly years of solemn watchfulness over you, years of following you like a shadow, years of sharing all his toys and his thoughts and promising to take care of you—it all made a terrible, perfect sort of sense.

Single-mindedness. But not as destruction, as Enji’s and Touya’s had been. As devotion—as thoughtfulness, something so uniquely Shouto you wanted to cry.

God how had you missed this?

You rallied yourself for one last defense.

“Shouto. At the very least you need to consider if you’re making a mistake. Alpha-beta couplings are nontraditional—maybe your senses are off here. Maybe because I’m a beta and I was around when your brain was still forming and you liked me then it feels like there’s something but—”

Shouto’s grip on you flexed, and suddenly his determined expression flickered, a crease forming between those perfect brows.

“Do you see me as a child still?” he asked.

You shook your head. Not since you’d seen him prowl across the Todoroki kitchen, miles of sleek muscle flexing, that perfect campfire scent fogging your brain, tall and gorgeous and unmistakably alpha. And especially not since you’d come to understand the expanse of his life—the home he’d made, the job he had, the goals he’d taken.

“Then do you… not want me?” he asked.

Your heart immediately sank, aching with the soft flicker of hurt that crept across his features.

Your hands had shot out to hold his face before you knew what you were doing.

“Shouto, of course I want you,” you found yourself saying. “Who wouldn’t want you? You are perfect. You are so kind and have always been so good. You are sweet and funny and so beautiful it hurts to look at. Of course I want you. But I don’t want to hurt you—”

“Then say yes,” Shouto insisted.

God you wanted to. You wanted to. You had been so jealous this whole week, you realized, of whoever his life mate was going to be.

The realization crashed into you like a wave, knocking you off balance. You wanted all of Shouto’s time, all of his attention, wanted to curl up in his apartment on that plush couch with him and all but bodily fuse to him, never to come apart again. You wanted to spend a million afternoons cooking in that kitchen, running lunches to him at the firehouse, kissing him, laughing with him, indulging in him—in how kind and sweet and good he’d always been.

Your face must have said it all, because Shouto was crowding back into you.

“I am going to be so good to you, Y/N,” he promised, his mouth drawing closer.

You shivered. Some part of you still felt like you needed to resist him, needed to make him see. But the other part of you, the largest part, wanted to melt in his embrace. Wanted to let him kiss you and kiss him back, wanted to thread your fingers in that fluff of hair and sink into the relief of his companionship.

Shouto hammered the final nail into your coffin with the unerring precision of a boy who’d known you for twenty years.

“Trust me to take good care of you,” he said, his voice dipping to a low whisper.

And that was it—the refrain from all those years ago, before you’d ever understood what he was promising you. Even if you were uncertain about everything else, you would always be certain about Shouto’s care. Shouto’s inherent goodness.

Surrendering, you let yourself fall.

“I do,” you told him. “I trust you. I—always will.”

Then you closed your eyes and let him kiss you.

You could feel Shouto’s soft smile against your mouth, feel a renewed intensity in the way he poured himself into you with his next kiss. You almost sagged against him in sheer relief—the relief of knowing, against all odds, that your life mate had found you even across the years that had threatened to separate you.

Shouto kissed you with a startling vigor, leaving you breathless against the willow when he moved down to your neck, pulling your tee shirt wide to suck several very insistent markings into the hollow of your throat.

You leaned into the rough bark as he mapped his way lower, and lower, only startling when he dropped to his knees before you, pressing his face into the crease of your hip.

Your heart shot into your mouth, a shock of heat licking up your spine. “Shouto!” you stammered.

Shouto only uttered your name into the fabric of your leggings, the material thin enough that you could feel the heat of his exhalation on your skin. One of his hands came up to take your calf, the other creeping up into the band of your leggings, carefully pulling it down.

You watched him as he did, stomach fluttering.

He gently helped you step out of your leggings and panties, leaving you bare and vulnerable to him. You would have been more embarrassed if it wasn’t for the way his eyelashes fluttered appreciatively, and the immediate way he ducked his head to press his mouth right to your core.

You muffled a moan into your palm, thunking your head against the tree trunk.

You could feel Shouto’s slow smile as he hefted your thigh over his shoulder, hands grasping your waist. “Mine,” you heard him utter, soft and low, before licking right over you, possessive and deliberate. It made every inch of your skin flush hot, every nerve ending come to life under his mouth.

You could still hardly believe what was happening, even as you muffled more sounds into your palm as Shouto worked you, with the attentive diligence he’d always done everything when it came to you. You could feel those mismatched eyes on you, cataloging your every reaction to what he did.

He learned all too quickly exactly what you liked, and you were a writhing mess within minutes. Shouto pinned you to the tree with an iron arm across your stomach as you arched and screamed, not letting up until you’d come against his mouth, chanting his name like an oath.

He looked very pleased with himself when you were done, his hair ruffled from your hand, face flushed.

He looked too good to be real.

“I want—Shouto, please—” you said, nearly incoherent but apparently utterly shameless now that he’d had you.

Shouto got to his feet to kiss you again and you flushed when you could taste yourself on his mouth. “Come home with me,” he murmured, tone low.

“You don’t want—?” you said.

Shouto shook his head. “Not here. I’ve imagined this a thousand times, how I wanted it to happen. I’ve thought about what you deserve. I’ve thought about how I will not want to separate, after, not even to take you back home. Come home with me first.”

Fire spread across your cheeks at the idea of Shouto imagining it with you, over and over again. The way he said home, like it was both of yours.

“Okay. Okay yes,” you said, breathless.

Shouto helped you back into your leggings and gathered up your abandoned pack, which you’d apparently dropped and forgotten entirely the moment he’d kissed you. He held your hand in his the whole way back through the woods, occasionally cocking his head or scenting the air, and then taking a long detour around some place, like he didn’t want to share your presence with whoever else was in the woods.

The walk was long, but so easy in Shouto’s company, even with this new dimension of your relationship settling itself between you two. It was frighteningly easy, in fact, after everything.

You talked about everything and nothing, reliving the entire week together, Shouto sharing that he’d hoped you’d see him as a man, had taken the time right up until the run to try to be sure. Ears flaming, you’d shared that you’d been gone for him the moment you’d seen him in the doorway of the kitchen. Shouto’s smug look immediately mopped up any of the reflexive embarrassment you felt sharing that.

By the time you made it to Shouto’s you’d also managed to shoot a text off to your mother, and an emergency extension of your time off to your workplace.

Shouto was on you as soon as the door shut behind you, catching your noise of surprise in his mouth.

Your arms came around him, and he walked you back to his couch, following you down onto it and laying himself out over you. The weight of him made you shiver again, the heaviness of all that muscle anchoring you down.

Shouto kissed you absolutely boneless into the cushions of his couch, hands wandering everywhere, skimming under your shirt, calluses catching on the fabric of your leggings. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, your nerves singing with pleasure. Shouto seemed to be trying to take his time with you, but you could sense something underneath that, his usual layers of patience eroded.

Feeling brave, you let your hands wander to the buttons of his pants, working them open. Shouto’s breath left him in a hiss as you wrapped your hand around him, feeling him hard and hot and velvet smooth in your palm.

“Ah… fffuck, love,” he muttered into your neck. He chased it with the soft scrape of his teeth, groaning when it made your grip tighten on him reflexively.

His hips flexed, sliding him through your fingers, flush and full. Butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, and a hot streak of arousal licked up your spine. Your own hips shifted, lifting up into him, and you realized with a sudden desperation that you wanted him inside you, didn’t want to wait another second.

“Shouto please, please, please,” you found yourself babbling, stroking firmly down the shaft of him.

Shouto’s eyes were dark when they found yours again. “Anything, I would give you anything,” he said, his voice tight.

“I want you inside of me, please,” you said, your face burning with the admission.

The sheer elation flashing across his handsome face quelled any more embarrassment. In what felt like barely a breath, Shouto had you bare to him once more, flinging your leggings and shirt somewhere towards his kitchen. He covered you again, fitting himself between your thighs with another appreciative groan before pressing in.

You were so wild with want that he slid home easily, despite his impressive size. His skin burned hot against yours, and he felt so perfectly right over you, inside of you, that you had to fight down something like a sob.

Shouto looked equally as overwhelmed, staring at your face rapturously. “I have loved you my whole life,” he said, his tone wondering. “You are finally mine.”

Your entire body went hot with his declaration. You had not realized until today that you loved him too. But now that you did, it felt like everything made sense, that all was finally right.

You managed to gasp out as much between Shouto’s thrusts, as his hips bucked into yours, slowly at first, and then faster, more sure. He kissed you everywhere—your face, your neck, your shoulders, layering in soft bites like he could not help himself.

“Say it,” he groaned, mouthing at the underside of your jaw. “Please say it.”

“I love you,” you said. A yelp escaped you when Shouto suddenly seized you around the waist, rolling you on top of him and holding you to him as he levered the two of you upright. The position in his lap only made him sink deeper inside of you, and you hissed with the feeling, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Ah, fuck—Shouto!” you cried.

Shouto’s hands on your waist guided you with an easy strength—your head spun with the reminder of his power, the reminder that you had an alpha—your alpha—inside of you.

“Going to take good care of you,” he panted into your hair, pausing to kiss the shell of your ear even as the snap of his hips undid you. “Going to take such good care of you.”

Your fingers flexed on him, and you could feel your toes curl. You did not know what to do with all of the emotion welling up inside you, the well of your pleasure almost overflowing. He ground up into you, making your eyes nearly roll back in your head, and you fought down a scream when the pad of his thumb pressed to your clit, heightening every sensation.

“Oh Shouto, please—” was all you could manage.

Shouto looked enraptured, drinking in every change in your expression. As you squirmed and writhed under his touch, you felt him start to swell inside of you.

Both apprehension and arousal swirled inside of you, a beta’s body a little less adapted to knotting than an omega’s. But the firm circle Shouto’s thumb was drawing on your clit, and the low murmur of his voice in your ear, began to drown out any other thought.

“I have you, love,” Shouto said. His mouth dragged across your throat, leaving a sucking bruise along the column. Your nails scrabbled at his back as he swelled even further inside of you, starting to catch on your walls and make it harder to press back down on him.

“I have you,” Shouto said again, his voice rough with pleasure. The reassurance that he did, and the knowledge that he was barely managing his own pleasure struck you like a bolt of lightning. Something inside you unraveled and came loose, and you muffled a cry into Shouto’s broad shoulder as your orgasm slammed into you like a tidal wave.

A low swear escaped Shouto, and his knot swelled even further. His hands suddenly seized tight on either side of your waist, holding you down on him as he thrust up into you. You felt a sort of pressure you’d never anticipated, so overwhelming it was nearly painful—but then Shouto’s knot slid into you.

Shouto groaned into your neck, biting down hard. You writhed over him, your pleasure wringing you out until finally you slumped against him, shivering. Shouto eased back, propping himself up on the arm of the couch, you stuck to his chest like a sweat-slicked barnacle.

“That was—so much more intense than I ever imagined,” you said, when you’d recovered your faculty for human language.

You could feel the curve of Shouto’s smile against your neck. “For I, as well,” he said. “Though I had imagined it a great many times—we still have many other fantasies I intend to live out.”

You were embarrassed to feel yourself tighten around him. Shouto hissed, leaning back to pin you with a look—then looked more smug than you’d ever seen him.

“Like that, do you, love?” he asked.

The pet name made your ears heat, and you couldn’t help but pinch him. “You used to be so sweet, when did you get this fresh?” you demanded.

“Fresh is the least of what I intend to get with you,” Shouto informed you seriously. “I take my duties as a child bride very seriously.”

Your jaw dropped open, and you pressed back from him, gasping when it shifted him inside you. “You—! You heard—?”

Shouto’s smile was far too handsome and self-satisfied to be allowed. “That is when I knew I stood a chance.”

Your face burned. You couldn’t believe him. “You’re a menace.”

Shouto leaned into a press a kiss over where he’d sunk his teeth into you, butterfly-light. The touch of his mouth was warm and his campfire scent washed over you, fuzzing your thoughts. His mouth moved up to catch yours, and you let him kiss you until you realized you’d started to squirm in his lap again.

Several minutes later he had you coming on his knot again, locked against him and muffling the sounds of your pleasure into his neck.

He looked, if possible, even more satisfied, and you lifted a hand to thread through the strands of his hair, silky and damp.

“I can’t believe this is real,” you said, several orgasms having made you loose-tongued. You rubbed a strand of his hair between the pads of your fingers.

Shouto turned his head to drop a kiss to the base of your palm. “We have time enough to make you believe it, love.”

Another butterfly took wing in your stomach at the pet name. You wondered if you’d ever get used to hearing him say it.

“I’ll have to figure out my work—I don’t know if they’d let me work remotely all the way from here?” you said, thoughts suddenly shifting. You sort of doubted your company would make the exception for you, and a pang shot through your heart at the idea that you might have to leave Shouto to work in the city on weekdays. At least until you found another job, which might take months to arrange.

You did not want to be separated from him, now that you’d let yourself have him.

A hand caught your chin, thumb smoothing along your jaw. “I do not think you will have enough time,” Shouto said, a slim brow raising slightly. “What with the bookstore opening.”

You stared at him, wondering if you’d just had some sort of auditory hallucination.

“The—what?” you asked.

“The bookstore opening,” Shouto said. His mouth made the shape of the words exactly, and so it could not be that you’d hallucinated. But—

“What bookstore?” you asked.

Shouto’s mouth pressed into a deliberately flat line like he was trying not to smile.

“Yours. Downstairs,” he clarified—which did not clarify at all.

Your mouth dropped open against his fingers, your eyebrows shooting for the moon. “My—? Downstairs—?”

Your mind scanned back over the events of the last twenty-four hours, the first time you’d caught sight of the shop downstairs again as you’d followed Shouto home. The way it seemed so well-maintained, the windows glinting crystal-clear in the soft evening light. Your eyes reflexively dipped to the blonde wood of Shouto’s floor, the very same that had been installed across the floor of the shop, and an understanding suddenly dawned on you.

“I remember everything you have ever told me,” Shouto had said when you mentioned you’d been in love with the shop downstairs.

“No way,” was what left your mouth as you glanced back up at Shouto, disbelief rising.

Shouto was watching you carefully, his handsome face serious. “Your name is on the deed.”

A wellspring of emotion rose up inside you like a geyser, and you slammed yourself back into Shouto, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “Shouto—I. You didn’t need to—there’s no way I can accept—this is incredible, you’re incredible—but I’d be taking advantage—I can’t—”

A warm, long-fingered hand slid up your spine to rest on the back of your head, holding you against him. “I have always been yours,” Shouto murmured. “Everything I have has always been yours. If it is too much now, we can wait. But I, and everything I have, will always be yours.”

You blinked, embarrassed to realize you’d started dripping tears into Shouto’s shoulder. Shouto didn’t say anything, fingers petting through your hair as you tried to fight the emotion down.

“I promised to take good care of you, and I intend to,” he said. Pressed against him, you could feel the way the words rumbled in his chest.

You closed your eyes and shoved your face in his neck, letting him hold you to him. Everything about today felt too good to be true, but you knew with absolute certainty that Shouto had always been too good to be true, himself. And yet you’d told him you trusted it, when he said he’d take care of you.

And you did—you realized you would always trust it, trust the beautiful boy you’d known all your life.

“I’ll need to pay you back on your investment,” you said some minutes later, when you finally found your voice again. You leaned back to look Shouto in the face, trying not to be embarrassed about the drying tear tracks.

“There is no need,” he said, eyes finding yours.

You realized you were still in his lap, though his knot had softened, and you thought you might be able to separate now.

But now you had other plans—and an investment you wanted to enthusiastically return.

“I insist,” you said, leaning forward to mouth at Shouto’s neck.

You caught the flash of his eyes widening, and his head fell back as a sharp breath left him. “I—see,” he said, his voice growing rough as you sucked a careful mark into the skin of his shoulder.

You smiled against his skin. “You will,” you promised, feeling bolder than ever. It felt like you were daring to believe it, that you’d found your life mate, that you really got to have him, that he’d loved you as long as he’d lived.

You wanted to return all those years of love, now that you loved him too.

“I’m going to take good care of you too,” you informed Shouto, hips already flexing over his.

You felt him start to grow hard inside of you again, and he turned his head to catch your mouth. You could feel his smile against your lips.

“I trust it,” he said, his voice dropping low.

You smiled too, grinning against your lifemate’s mouth, intent on proving yourself worthy of that trust.

Though perhaps that could wait until you’d delivered some of the many fantasies it sounded like he’d stored up. There was no reason to rush.

You had the rest of your life together, after all.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto x y/n #todoroki x you #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #andie's writing #character: todoroki shouto

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I know the König x secret admirer reader is not gonna be officially continued but I was wondering if you could maybe explore part of it😭 there’s a part that mentioned that König gets laid in the military and I was wondering how angsty it would be if reader found out?🤭

Yes of course! ^^ It would be angsty... and fluffy! These two are the silliest people who ever lived tbh 🩷🐥

König is young in this AU (around his early 20s) and wildly inexperienced compared to some of the other recruits his age.

His first time was with a girl who joined the army when König had been there for about 1.5 years already. Desperate as he was with hiding the fact that he’s still a virgin, he tumbled into bed with this lady after a night out at the bar. She thoroughly seduced him, and König’s instincts told him she was only looking for fun, but he went with her anyway because, well. Loneliness can kill you, you know?!

He tried to woo her a bit after that until it became quite clear that this woman was not planning to settle down anytime soon. If anything, she was looking for a new conquest – and it’s fine, totally fine, except that König had surrendered a tiny piece of his heart to her along with his dick... That’s just how he is, and it took him more than a few months to get over the fact that it was “just a shag” and he “shouldn’t take things so seriously”.

That’s also why he closed off from people again, decided to concentrate on work and training and gym – until our cute little angel stumbled into his life like the prettiest saving grace! König was a goner from the start because this girl's approach was very different, so gentle and sweet compared to grimy shot glasses and smudgy lipstick and raunchy jokes. It’s a given that he was a little shocked when she sent her that pic 🙄 reminding him of promiscuous women who are not looking for a soul but a body, but because he is what he is the first thing he did was crank things up a notch and send her a dick pic back…

Yes, he’s desperate, but he’s also an go hard or go home man and this time, König is relatively sure he’s dealing with a lovely, delicate soul. Someone who wouldn’t just leave him out in the cold after getting what she wants.

And everything is like a fairytale between these two until she finds out he’s not a virgin despite he seemed a bit… like one… (in this scenario I think reader is a virgin and she thought König was one too because of obvious reasons? lol) And it’s fine, totally fine for her as well, except that the image of König having the night of his life with some military babe is haunting her from dusk till dawn.

There’s bound to be some drama when she starts asking timidly whether she’s still there… Whether they see each other every day. If they talk to each other, if he trains with her, etc. What if they test rifles together, or go out again with the sniper crew and get drunk and König feels… a little lonely?

She knows he would never cheat on her, not in a million years, but knowing how much of a wet dog he is she can’t promise that she’ll be all calm and relaxed during weekends, knowing her boyfriend is out there, full of testosterone and heart, his heart somewhat susceptible to female influence… Maybe even good old seduction…

And what’s even worse is the jealousy, the envy.

What if she’s more badass than her? That doesn't take much... She must be fierce if she’s in the military, something completely different, a forbidden apple König might want to taste again. It’s maddening, and when she finally opens up about it to him, spitting it out one night when he asks what’s bugging his sweet angel, there’s a big fat silence that follows.

König can't even believe she has torn her heart to pieces over something like this, alone and upset and ashamed when she's a literal angel. He sits her nice and pretty in his lap and talks her ear off about how he has nothing against this woman, truly, but that she is nothing compared to his first (and hopefully last!) girlfriend. Their love could never be compared to what happened between him and that girl, these things can’t even be spoken together in the same sentence. If he’s completely honest, his first time was... disappointing. Awkward, humbling, a total drunken mess of which he remembers nothing except that the woman wasn’t completely present either and that he was ashamed that his first time had to be like this.

Honestly, he felt like he lost his virginity on the night when he came to see her. She’s everything he’s ever dreamed of, all he thinks about these days... It’s quite annoying, actually, because he’s supposed to concentrate on how the wind blows and that the ammo doesn’t get wet and that he’s properly concealed.

He could be lying in a ditch with dummy rounds whirling past him and all he could think about are her eyes and lips and giggling and tits and, and… that. How warm it is, how nice it is, how he would just want to curl himself next to her when he hops back to his bunk in the evening. Her smile is the last thing he sees before he dreams, her voice is what he hears. All the things she said, all those sweet, silly little things, chime in his ear before he sleeps.

And all the precious moments they’ve already spent together, the times he made love to her under the trees... There’s nothing like that in the whole world and if she thinks something else can top that she's even sillier than he thought. He could comb through all the continents and he would never find a girl like her.

So tell him again... Why would he go to a shot glass of saltwater when he has a jar of wild honey right here at home?

#lmao what könig doesn’t tell her probablyyy is that the lady is not interested in him either #she just hops from D to D so she barely remembers König even exists #he’s only a co-star in some stories she tells her friends #like “Ooh yeah that one guy had a horse cock but he fussed around with the condom so much I almost fell asleep haha” #“what was his name again? shit I can’t remember” #meanwhile our angel reader is ascending to the 7th plane with the help of the horse cock in question like “Köniii T^T” #always the funniest thing when a secret admirer gets jealous of his object of obsession who’s actually fucking enamored with their no 1 fan #König gets jettisoned to the sun everytime she so much as *looks* his way #like are you both completely utterly dense or were you just born this way… #<3 sillies

[pokelolmc]

One of my new favourite Hazbin Hotel fic AUs is this weird crossover niche of "Alastor is/was a character from another fandom, before he snapped and became who he is today" AUs, eg. "Harry Potter becomes Alastor", and one random "Tim Drake becomes Alastor" fic I found on AO3. Because I find it interesting to try and figure out how to meld the other character's backstory, powers or personality with his.

And that inevitably led my traitorous brain to the idea of "Danny Fenton becomes Alastor" (because now DP and DC are forever associated in my lizard brain, curse you Phandom!).

Which is just...the weirdest thing ever, because they're just so different—like, how the fuck do you set up Danny to become Alastor, of all people?! It feels like the most unfitting character to do this with...

And that's exactly what my brain has decided to see it as a challenge.

Added caveat: this is an AU!Danny specifically from a generic angsty dissection fic scenario, where he's been traumatised by his parents and fucked over by the world (and he has no healthy way to cope)—then he's sent back in time, lost and completely alone

-Danny falls through a natural portal to 1900's Louisiana with no way back (something something, Clockwork's-out-of-the-picture, something something)

-Alastor being a mama's boy? Danny gets taken in by a loving mother figure after getting lost in time—a kind woman familiar with the supernatural who accepts his ghost half right off the bat. He sees her as his family. After a year or so, though, she dies. He spirals again. He dyes his hair brown and starts wearing glasses when he runs away to New Orleans to change himself and cover his tracks.

-Alastor feels like an interesting name for Danny to choose because it means "the avenger", and can also mean "defender of the people" (a meaning more apparent in the Scottish version "Alasdair/Alastair"), but could also have a negative connotation of "persecutor"; the character symbolism writes itself

-the normally tech-savvy Danny who finds old-timey stuff boring would be forced to find something to entertain himself in the 1900's. So he gravitates towards radio, with it being the closest thing he's got to modern tech. Give him several years or so to grow attached to it and enjoy the idea of working in it. He goes from fantasising of radio comms at NASA to a public radio host, playing with all the fancy knobs and dials.

-his ghost half is the reason Alastor's powers/magic in Hell is green

(also I heard someone say the typical human!Alastor design has the "Timmy Turner hairstyle", which I can't unsee now. And it's Danny's hairstyle too. Because we know how well Butch Hartman and originality mix. Male protagonist? There's only one hairstyle for that!)

-he becomes a serial killer because he's snapped over the years after all the shit that's happened to him; he's developed a bitter, cynical and self-aggrandised ego and thirst for justice and revenge, and he's all alone with no one to keep him out of the dark echo chamber leading to villainy

-a serial killer with ghost powers plays cat-and-mouse with cops, and never leaves a trace; before he starts killing, he's already made deals with and intimidated the ghosts that come to New Orleans through other natural portals (it's a portal hotspot) under a new ghostly persona. He has both sides of the city fearing or respecting his power. Every ghost who goes to New Orleans knows whose territory it is. They just never link the ghost and human together. He becomes like an even worse Plasmius. It sets him up for Overlord stuff in Hell from the getgo

-the cannibalism was a...happy accident. On a whim, he decided one guy's crime was too insufferable to die without torment, so he took the guy back and...tortured him the way his ol' folks knew best. He starts cutting people open as if trying to relive what his parents did to him, but from the other end—as the person with all the power. Taste-testing what he cut up came incidentally, but he decided he didn't mind it and made it a routine.

I can imagine a villain!Danny with more narcissistic tendencies, but my main trouble is where the overblown confidence and charming/manipulative skills come from. After all, Danny's pretty socially awkward. How exactly does he grow into that?

#danny phantom #danny fenton #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #crossover au #cw: murder and cannibalism #but I mean it's Alastor what did you expect?

[skumhuu]

✨👑 Throne 👑✨ pages 11-12

Beginning

< • >

#sku art #throne comic #unsympathetic killer #unsympathetic nightmare #dreammare #soft bad end #tasty bad end #Dubcon touching #fear #horror #at last the truth of nightmare’s castle is revealed #it was never a castle in the first place #but instead #the trees of the twins old forest full of ambient magic bending to Nightmare’s whims #he never found an old au and took it over #he never built anything #the world bends to his demands #Dream is understandably horrified #there is death in the walls #so much negativity that it’s snuffed out his magic #Nightmare is very pleased with this outcome 👀😏

[saetoru]

AGE IS NOTHING BUT A NUMBER — GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day two — overstimulation ; find masterlist here

synopsis. befriending nanako and mimiko has its perks—like fucking their father, for example. suguru might have aged over the years, but that doesn't mean he's lost his touch. don't believe him? that's okay—he can always just show you instead

length. 5.3k words (bro this fic was agonizing)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, dilf! suguru, college au (reader is a student), age gaps (20+ difference), jealous suguru, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, angel)

notes. this took me so long bc i hate it so im posting it and running away to play genshin to slave away for primos

most people can tell their best friends everything. not you, though—you have a secret. a dirty, shameful, horrible little secret, in fact.

no one knows that every chance you get, every small little moment you can possibly squeeze in, you fuck your two best friends’ father—and it’s going to stay that way, unknown and forever hidden. suguru is young as far as parents go, just barely in his twenties when he’s found himself a single father of two, but that doesn’t mean he’s not too old for you. and it especially doesn’t mean that it’s not inappropriate to fuck the man that raised your two closest friends.

you meet nanako and mimiko during your freshman year of college—the rest is history. the first time you spend the night at their place, suguru (he insists you call him that on your first meeting) is overjoyed that his girls have someone as lovely as you.

who wouldn’t be? you’re smart, well-mannered, respectable, and incredibly studious. what a perfect role model for his girls—after all, every father’s worst nightmare is his sweet, precious daughters venturing off to the real world. men are dogs—suguru should know. they’re sleazy and prey on young women who are naive and unsuspecting, taking advantage of their hopefulness before completely destroying their innocence. suguru can’t bear the idea of his perfect little girls becoming victims of such sinister behavior—but that’s all quelled when he meets you.

but he never thought, not even for one second, that he’d become one of those men.

those older men who fuck girls half their age—the girls that are barely in their twenties and still don’t even really understand how taxes work. the girls that have just started to learn how to hold their alcohol and can only recently buy it legally. the girls who don’t realize how complicated adulthood can be, just barely spreading their wings and learning what it’s like to be free.

suguru has always found those men deplorable. they’re the awful, disgusting, untamed vermin of society—women must be protected from them at all costs.

but now? well….now he’s one of them—and he finds, even as disgusted with himself as he is from time to time, he has little regrets.

not when you’re sprawled under him, hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin under your palms in wonder. suguru, though he’s not let himself go by any means, is past his prime—he still frequents the gym, and he has more time to go now that the girls are gone most of the day, but he’s not immune to the effects of aging.

his hair has more than a few strands of white sprinkled in now; nanako makes sure to remind him not to pull them out unless he wants more. he’s still managed to keep the abs he was once so proud of in his youth, but they’re still not as hard—layered over a slight belly that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter what he tries. his skin is a bit looser, and his eyes have slight wrinkles in the corners of them, but despite it all, suguru still looks as handsome as ever.

he’s aged well, still looks remarkably young for men his age, and still looks like that dashing young man he once was who stole hearts. in fact, he still hears about his looks, especially from nanako and mimiko’s friends—he’s always chuckled to himself and shook his head in amusement.

that’s your dad? god, he’s so hot.

what? he’s single? oh my gosh, do you need a mom?

i can’t believe he’s never been married—women in his generation don’t deserve him. i’ll take him off their hands.

wait, do you have pictures of him when he was younger?

oh my god, he’s so fine. are you sure he’s in his forties?

nanako and mimiko, bless their hearts, have always crinkled their noses at the…less than proper comments they’ve had to witness about their father. in fact, they’ve watched teachers practically throw themselves onto suguru at parent-teacher conferences. it’s bothersome—a little disturbing to hear their friends talk about all the things they’d let their dad, of all people, do to them.

but you? you don’t make unhinged comments. they appreciate that.

but if only they knew…

if only they knew that sometimes, like right now, when you’re spending the night, you don’t actually sleep—instead, you sneak off to their father’s room, lay on his mattress under his body, and feel his touch. you can feel him, hard and throbbing in his sweats as his clothed cock presses against your thigh—but he takes his time with you, and doesn’t do anything about the clear arousal pooling between your legs just yet. 

instead, he focuses on remembering your body—it’s been a while, after all. he hasn’t felt your hips, hasn’t tasted your skin, hasn’t heard your voice. 

“missed you,” suguru breathes, hovering over you as you hum, nipping at your skin as his nose brushes along your neck. your hand is playing with his hair, twisting long, black and white strands along your fingers. “haven’t seen you in a bit, angel.”

“i’ve had midterms,” you murmur.

suguru knows—nanako and mimiko have been studying for them themselves. he’s more than a little disappointed that you haven’t come over to study with them yet. but then, just the other night, mimiko mentions you’ve been spending your time with a boy at the library, sharing a table as you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop. nanako giggles that you might have finally gotten yourself a boyfriend. mimiko hums and nods as she murmurs it’s about time.

suguru swallows down every bite of dinner with an aftertaste of bile that night.

a boy—a boy? you’ve been skipping coming over to study with the girls (and, by default, seeing him) just to study with some boy? what’s got your attention on the guy so badly? why would you break the routine you’ve had for the last few semesters for someone you just recently met? have you finally started to realize that this is a mistake? is suguru a mistake?

he thinks maybe not, now that you’re back in his bed—but he still has too many unanswered questions. 

“so i’ve heard,” he says lowly, “i’ve also heard there’s a certain boy on your radar.” he smiles bitterly, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with those dark, sharp eyes of his. “a much younger, and fitting match for you, i suppose.”

you roll your eyes, snorting.

“is that what nanako and mimiko have told you? honestly, those two,” you huff fondly, “i told them already. he’s just my partner for a presentation. we’re practicing.”

“oh?” suguru raises a brow—and then he shivers lightly when you lean up and kiss his jaw, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.

“yes,” you giggle, “no need to be jealous of someone half your age, you know.”

“that’s exactly why i’m jealous,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss you softly.

your lips taste like honey—probably sweeter, in fact. they drip with that decadent, saccharine taste of youth. he feels twenty again every time he kisses you, feels not a day older than his glory days.

“oh, you poor thing,” you grin, cupping his face as you scatter kisses along his cheeks and nose, thumb tracing the skin. fuck, is this what it feels like to be in love? it makes him feel so young, so free, and hopeful for the future. when was the last time he felt this way? “have you been losing sleep over my nonexistent college boyfriend?”

“well, kids your age fool around quite a bit,” he says in that father tone that he uses on nanako and mimiko, “what was i supposed to think?”

you’ve heard that tone so many times before; the one where he talks like he knows better, like he’s wiser, like he’s aware of something you’re not. 

girls, make sure you share your location with me—i need to find you in case anything happens. it’s for your own safety, end of discussion.

make sure you watch over your drinks, okay? men these days take every chance they get to spike them when you’re not looking. mimiko, i was your age once, too. i’ve seen this happen plenty.

don’t walk alone in the streets at night. call me. i’ll pick you up—no, nanako, it’s not lame. the streets are dangerous at night. there are creeps, you know.

don’t get into any boy’s cars, girls. you never know what’ll happen; one mistake is all it takes to ruin your life—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. one day, you’ll understand i’m right.

“i’m not a kid,” you pout, and then, smugly this time, you wiggle your brows. “did’ya lose sleep over my imaginary boyfriend? you need plenty of sleep at your age, y’know.”

“no, you’re not a kid,” suguru agrees, “you’re a brat.” and then he’s back to pressing those hot, open-mouthed, hungry kisses along your jaw, humming in delight when you angle your head to give him better access. 

sometimes, it’s fun to get under suguru’s skin—it’s fun to break that carefully built, mature patience of his, pulling a twitch of his eye and a furrow of his brow from him. so, you grin widely as you murmur, “who knows? maybe he’d fuck better—more stamina, y’know?”

it’s supposed to just tease him, to make him glare at you unimpressed so you can giggle and kiss between his brows—but suguru stills at that, painfully stiff for a moment before he bites at your skin. hard. 

“oh yeah?” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous as he pulls away to glare down at you, “you think so? what, you think an old man like me can’t fuck you long enough?”

you don’t get a chance to reply—not before he pulls your pants down your waist to reveal your soaked panties, pulling a hum from him as he grins at the damp patch of fabric. his fingers circle over your clit for a moment, right over the cloth, making your breath hitch as you buck into his touch. 

“suguru—”

“look at that,” he chuckles, “wearing my favorite one, huh? can’t fuck you that bad if you try your best to impress me. isn’t that what you wanted? is that what you were thinking when you put these on before coming over? how precious,” he murmurs—he speaks so condescending, so knowingly, as if he’s read your mind just by looking at the red lace covering your dripping cunt. you cover your face in humiliation, but he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head, clicking his teeth in disapproval. 

part of you knows you should quit while you can—the other part? well…it wants to test the limits a bit longer. suguru has never been so easy to rile up, you want to indulge in it for just a bit longer if you can help it. 

“well,” you huff, “what’re you waiting for, then? don’t tell me the age has slowed you down—”

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he says in a low snarl, “fine, you want me to hurry up? you got it, princess.”

it all happens before you can even register—one moment, you’re grinning at him with mischief in your eyes; the next second, he has you in nothing but your bra, bare in his bed as he pulls your legs apart and leans close to your pussy.

“you know the thing about guys your age,” he hums, toying with your clit lazily as you gasp with a twitch, “is that they really don’t know how to take care of anyone but themselves. guess they just don’t have enough experience to really figure it out.”

his lips latch onto your clit, sucking before he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud as his fingers sink into your core, pushing past your folds and stretching you open. it’s slow—deliberately so, in fact. it makes your head spin, and your fingers curl into the bed sheets as you pant. 

“suguru, m-more—”

“don’t worry,” he coos, pulling away from you to grin up at your glossy eyes, “you’ll get plenty, baby. we’ll see if you’ve got the stamina. y’know, since you’re so young.”

his lips are back to wrap around your clit, fingers sinking and curling exactly where you’re most sensitive—suguru finds your sweet spots instantly the first time he has you sprawled under him. didn’t even take a moment of trial, just knew where to touch and kiss to have you unravel in his hold. that much still hasn’t changed—his fingertips press against the sensitive spot in the back of your walls, pulling pretty little whines from you as his tongue flicks over your clit. 

it’s always been a blessing that nanako and mimiko’s room is across the house—had they been closer, they might hear the mewl you let out as his fingers bully into you faster, unforgiving as they brush against your walls and build the ache up between your legs until it’s about to burst. 

“s-suguru, ‘m close, so, so close—”

“already?” he gasps, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your clit with a sly grin, “thought you had more in you than that, baby. so youthful—figured you’d last a bit longer.”

he’s mean about it—rubs it in your face some more that you’re so close so fast before he pulls his fingers away and doesn’t even give you the satisfaction of falling apart on his digits. it makes you sob, hips bucking up to chase the friction of his fingers, but he’s already gone, leaving your walls empty and fluttering around nothing.

“no,” your voice breaks, “n-no, so close, please. i want—”

“that’s what he would’ve done,” suguru hums, “pulled out before you even finished. that’s what guys your age always do—they don’t know how to make girls finish. you ever had that problem with me?”

“no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. you’re a pretty little thing, he thinks—pouty, wobbly lips and those glossy eyes as you sniffle. “no, you always make me cum—please, i wanna cum, sugu.”

“yeah?” he pouts with faux sympathy, “didn’t feel good, huh? feels better when i take care of you, doesn’t it?”

“uh huh,” you nod—you’re still panting through the aftershocks of having your orgasm ripped from you, chest rising and falling harsh enough that it fills him with pride he can pull such drastic reactions from you. no one knows your body like suguru—he’s too good at giving it what it wants for anyone else to compare. 

“think that boy—” he spits the last word like it’s poison on his tongue, “—can take care of you?”

“no,” you whimper, “no, he can’t. not like you, never like you.”

“that’s a good girl,” he nods approvingly, rubbing his slick-coated finger over your clit, toying with it teasingly as you writhe, whining for more. “you know something else about men your age? they don’t care to please a woman—don’t bother to appreciate them enough to make them feel good. you think that boy would be here—” he pauses to motion between your legs, where he’s currently situated, “—willingly? taste you willingly? let you cum on his tongue willingly?”

“i-i don’t…i never asked someone to—”

“did you ever ask me?” he interrupts, raising a brow at you, “you ever have to ask me? i just do it. wanna know why? because i know what i’m doing—know how to treat you right, how to give you what you need. isn’t that right?” 

“yes, yes—you always give me what i want—”

“what you need,” he corrects, “and you know what i think you need right now? this.”

his tongue licks a stripe along your entrances before you can say anything else, pulling a gasp out of you as your hands find his hair and tug—suguru groans at that, feels his pants get impossibly tighter as the aching erection he sports throbs between his legs at the way you pull at the strands so desperately, so needy. for him. only ever him. 

his tongue fucks into you, messy with the way he devours you, the slick arousal pooling from your cunt coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin. you moan—and really, it’s almost a squeal—when his fingers are sinking back into you, tongue flicking away at your clit mercilessly as he thrusts his digits in and out of your pussy. you’re close, painfully so, the pressure steadily building and building until you just can’t hold it back anymore. 

“sugu—’m c-cumming. god ‘s so good—feels good,” you babble, thighs closing around his head as his fingers curl into your sweet spot over and over again, not stopping for even a second as he helps you ride out your high. your walls spasm around his fingers, tight as they flutter around him and make him groan at the thought of being inside you. 

he watches, hungry and in awe, as your back arches off the mattress and your mouth parts, broken little wails of his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet melody. 

“i bet he’s never seen someone look like this,” suguru murmurs, watching the way the ecstasy takes over your features as your face falls slack from pleasure, “so pretty when falling apart. bet he’d never even get close to making you look so fucked from just his tongue.”

your orgasm ripples through you—it’s not new, the way he makes you feel so good, but it’s definitely nothing to get used to either. your body slumps back onto the mattress as you finish, panting harshly while he climbs up to hover over you once again. 

“that felt good?” he asks, nosing at your cheek as you nod breathlessly.

“yeah,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“hope you’re not tired out just yet,” he says smugly, eyeing the way sweat clings to your forehead and huffs of air exhale from your lungs with each labored breath, “because we’re nowhere near done, baby. not even close.”

just like that, your bra is unclasped and pulled off, freeing your tits for his mouth to latch onto a nipple, sucking and lightly grazing his teeth along the bud while his fingers tease at the other, pinching and rubbing over it with his thumb. you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hand cups the back of his head and keeps him in place. 

“bet i could make you cum just from this,” he says with a laugh, “i don’t even need to fuck you.”

“please,” you dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning as he switches to wrap his lips around the other nipple, “please, sugu—n-need more.”

“be more specific,” he says lowly, looking up at you in amusement, “gonna need more than that, princess. you gotta help me out here—i’m afraid i don’t know what i’m doing.”

suguru is doing everything he can to drag this out—if you’d known one small comment would have him riled up like this…well, truthfully, you can’t say you wouldn’t have made it anyway. it’s exciting in its own right when he’s so determined to show you why you need him, why no one else but him is meant to see you like this, make you fall apart like this, have you sprawled under them like this. 

no one can know about you and suguru—not nanako and mimiko, not your other friends, not your family. you know what they’d say, how they’d feel. 

disgust—shame, even. he’s far too old for you, you know they’d say; he’s a red flag for getting with someone so young. no one can know that you come here, dead in the middle of the night when your friends are asleep, and fuck their father. not only that—lay with their father, talk about your hopes and dreams for the future with their father, giggle as you gossip with their father, fall in love with their father. 

something tells you the feeling is not unreciprocated—that suguru feels the same, that he loves holding you in his arms just as much as you love laying in them. maybe it wasn’t a joke, what you’d said. not to him, at least—maybe deep down, it stung; maybe he had something to prove. that boy might be closer to you in age, but he’ll never, ever treat you the way suguru does—no one will, for that matter. perhaps he has to show it so you really know. 

so you look him in the eye, pull him closer until his forehead is pressed against yours and you can press a delicate kiss to his lips before you murmur against them, “fuck me, suguru. please—need you.”

he groans at that, closes his eyes before his hips move to press the thick tip of his cock against your folds, dragging it along your entrance as he coats his head with your slick. it’s flushed a deep pink—it’s been neglected for so long that he shudders at the way it aches, at the way even the slightest friction along the sensitive tip pulls a soft gasp from him. 

for a moment, he wonders if he really will last long enough to fuck you properly—he might not, with the way your walls always squeeze around him, always have him ready to fuck his load into you just as soon as he’s inside you. the thought alone almost makes his cock twitch—but suguru is a man of patience, so he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, looking down and watching as his girth disappears inside you. 

“look at that,” he coos, grinning wide as he looks back up at you, “took me so easily. ‘s cause when you do it right, it doesn’t take much, does it?”

“f-fuck—” your head presses back against the pillow, mouth hung open as you breathe heavily, trying to squirm and get even the slightest bit of friction from him as he stays painfully still. “move, suguru—please, c-can’t wait anymore. jus’ wanna feel you.”

“i know,” he chuckles, “patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

despite it all, suguru is not feeling very patient anymore—it’s been long enough. his hips roll slowly at first, a shallow thrust of his hips that makes you both moan lowly before he all but pulls out and slams back in, hard. you can feel the burning stretch of his girth practically splitting you open, every thick vein dragging along your cunt and every brush of his tip against the back of your walls. it’s loud—the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of his deep groans and your breathless whines, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as he fucks you into his mattress. 

“god—fuck, suguru—th-there,” you mewl as he slams into you right where you need him. 

you’ve lost count of how many times suguru has fucked you like you’re his. in his bed at night, in his shower in the mornings, on the couch when you drop by when the girls aren’t home, in his car that one time he drove you home when it rained, in your apartment that one time he dropped off your laptop because you forgot it. there’s one common denominator—the way he makes you feel, not just from the way his cock ruts into you, but from the way his fingers tangle with yours, from the way his mouth finds your jaw to kiss, from the way his forehead presses into your shoulder with warmth. 

it’s exciting, maybe. at first, it’s scandalous and a little thrilling in its own right. by now, it’s something much more than that—you don’t think anyone could make you feel the way he does, fuck you like he does, even if they tried. even if they knew where to touch and where to kiss. even if they knew what you liked and what you didn’t. 

they couldn’t be suguru—would never be suguru. 

“there, huh?” he pants, moaning softly as he feels your walls flutter around him tightly, “i know. i know how to fuck this pussy—my pussy. you think some boy you hardly know would know? think he’d care to learn? think he’d even try?”

“no,” you gasp, shaking your head as your hips buck up to meet his sharp thrusts, “no. no one would make me feel this good. make me feel so good, sugu.”

“ngh—sh-shit,” he hisses at your words, cock almost swelling harder at the way you praise him, at the way your words are almost slurred with no real thought behind him. it’s a little pride-inducing, the way you’re still able to sing his praises without having to really think about it first. he can hear it, the way you’re lost in the drag of his cock, drunk in the haze of pleasure, unfocused on everything else besides the way he bullies his thick girth into your abused cunt.

it’s a mess, it’s filthy the way there’s a mix of pre cum and your slick at the base of his cock, along your inner thighs, coating your skin as the squelching sound of him nudging past your folds fills the room.

it’s good, the way he makes you feel—he can hear it in your voice as you wail his name.

“s-suguru—oh.”

“what, you gettin’ all fucked out on me? ‘m not even close yet, princess,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck as he sucks softly into your sweet spot. you throw your head back, rasping out a cry of his name again as his balls slap against your ass with a harsh roll of his hips. 

and then his hand makes its way between your bodies, thumb attaching itself to your clit before rubbing punishing circles into the bundle of nerves—you sob at that, back arching up as your chest presses against his, nipples hard as they brush along his skin.

“s-sugu—close, ‘m gonna cum a-again—so close,” you pant brokenly, every sentence cut off with a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. 

you’re close—you can’t fight back the way the coil in your belly snaps as he teases your clit. it’s still sensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve still burning up from before as he gives you more, gives you too much, almost. you cum harder this time—your second high creeping up on you when you least expect it. 

it makes your eyes roll back, makes your thighs quiver, and tears stream down your cheeks as you chant his name over and over. suguru, ‘s so good. suguru, ‘m cumming. suguru, ‘s all for you.

every sentence makes his cock drill into you faster, sloppier in rhythm, maybe, but faster. needier. bordering on desperate. 

“f-fuck, baby,” he grunts, “squeezin’ me so tight—such a tight fuckin’ cunt. you think just anyone deserves this? think you can just walk around and let anyone fuck this? ‘s bullshit—ngh.”

you don’t answer—can’t answer, in fact. it’s all teary eyes and soft sniffles as you mewl with every thrust, voice breaking between every pretty little sound you make. he’s still fucking into you, still dragging his cock against those sensitive walls, still bumping against your clit with his navel, still nudging against your sweet spot with his thick, swollen tip. it’s almost too much—it is too much, making you writhe under his body as you try to form the words. 

“‘s t-too much, sugu—c-can’t anymore,” you try, “can’t.”

“what?” he gasps, furrowing his brows in mock confusion, “you’re tappin’ out on me already? but ‘m not even done yet, sweetheart. haven’t even finished yet—don’t tell me you’re already spent. how will you keep up with your little boyfriend’s stamina if you can’t even take an old man like me?”

“c-can’t take anyone but you,” you sob, “jus’ you—only you. promise.”

“yeah? you swear?”

“uh huh. jus’ you, sugu—don’ want anyone else. won’t fuck me the same.”

“atta girl,” he coos, chuckling as he leans down to kiss your jaw, trailing soft pecks until he meets your lips, “that’s what i thought. make sure you don’t forget, okay?”

“fuck, suguru—’m…g-gonna…”

“gonna what? cum? you’re cumming again?” you nod at that—he grins wide, pride settling into the crinkles of his eyes before his thumb rubs harsh circles into your swollen clit once more. he looks pretty like that—hair framing his face, the mix of black and white strands sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. his skin is flushed, abs flexing as he pants over you. sometimes you feel guilty that half of why you come over to visit nanako and mimiko is to fuck suguru—the guilt is quickly extinguished when you see him like this, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his arms barely hold him over you, eyes shut tight as he groans. 

“i-i’m—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you can’t form sentences anymore as you cum—again. not that you really could before that, but now all you can offer is croaked half-syllables and shaky sobs. your walls squeeze around him, tight as they hug around his throbbing cock. 

it takes one, two, three more sloppy rolls of his hips before he lets out at a low, “baby, fuck—’m gonna fill you up. want that? want me to cum in you? make you mine? always been mine, haven’t you?”

“yes, yes—yours, sugu. yours, yours, yours,” you babble, words slurred between breathy moans and broken sobs. “wanna be yours.”

you can feel him—feel the way his cock twitches in you, the way he grinds into you to ride out his high, the way sticky, hot ropes of cum fill your walls, the way he fucks his load deeper into you with every sloppy thrust of his hips. his arms quiver as he holds himself over you—just barely, though. you can hear the way his voice cracks as he gasps your name over and over, as he mutters lowly about how you’re his, how you’ll always only be his. 

“mine,” he grits, “you’re fuckin’ mine—see how you’re suckin’ me in? see how i fit in this pussy like it was made for me? ‘s cause you’re mine.”

his body slumps onto yours as he finishes, head pressed into the crook of your neck as he kisses the skin while you both catch your breaths. you whimper, still sensitive, as he pulls out of you, a soft chuckle falling past his lips as he pulls his head up to look at you and press a kiss to your cheek. 

“so,” he starts, eyes laced with amusement as he takes in the fucked out look on your face, the tears still drying your cheeks, the swollen flush of your bottom lip, “still think you need someone with more stamina? someone who’ll fuck you better—”

“god,” you groan, slapping his shoulder, “will you drop it already? you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“no,” he murmurs, pecking your lips, “still wanna hear it some more.”

“your ego needs a reality check,” you huff as you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, “think i’ve fed it plenty all night.”

“actually, i think you crushed it,” he pouts theatrically, “talking about some asshole who doesn’t care about you right in front of me. after i take such good care of you, too. the girls already think you should date him,” he adds the last part with a slightly bitter roll of his eyes, pulling a giggle out of you.

“they think i don’t know how to talk to men,” you snort, “imagine they knew i was talking to men old enough to be my father.”

“hey,” he clicks his teeth, falling onto the mattress beside you—he pulls you into his chest, letting your cheek rest on his bare skin. it’s so wrong—lying in bed with the father of your best friends. but somehow, suguru feels like the only thing you’ve ever done right. “age is nothing but a number, sweetheart.”

if i have to see the word cock one more time im going to eradicate all humans that have them

do not comment about a part 2 !!!!!!!!!!

#🎃 — kinkteeber !! #teepods.writings #fics. #thirstee! #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

[kooktrash]

lost & found | jeon jungkook

summary:your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.

➣ genre/au: jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], mid-20’s friendships. what kind of au is this? smut, plot

➣18.7k words

warnings: heavy plot. smut. a little bit of angst if you squint. tae is oc defender. shy oc. jk is an old college classmate. oc and jk got complicated, misunderstood history :(. oc is kinda insecure? bathroom sex. teasing. foreplay [f and m receiving]. very neeeedddy, long time waited sex.. unprotected. jk fucks oc on the counter, on the door. jk is tatted up but not in his college days. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk as a thx 🤧 jk dated oc’s bestie but there’s HISTORY. oc’s bestie is the real villain im sorry. took advantage of two insecure college kids >:( love lost, love found vibes. just read I swear it’s not that bad 😭 no cheating. FRIEND BREAK UPS. oc gets confident toward the end

song inspo: bff — jesse

As you settle into adulthood, you learn a few things about friendships. There tends to be a slight divide between those you’ve known since you were young and those you’ve collected over the years. Some might value the friendships they’ve held longer more than those that are more recent but for others, what matters is the trust that comes with friendship no matter with whom it might be with. You’re somewhere in between, you think.

You have people like Taehyung who you’ve only recently started to get to know and have had a chance to grow close with. He doesn’t know everything about you yet but he doesn’t need to, he seems to understand enough now to be an important person in your current life. He’s the kind of friend you're thankful you’ve met on some random occasion.

Then you have someone like your best friend, Miyoung. You’re not sure the last time you had ever been truly without her at your side. From your earlier school years to college, to now when you’re both settled into what would essentially be your careers and private lives. She’s… she's special to you in a way that you're not sure you could ever find in someone else—or at least that’s what she says?

There hasn’t been a time where it wasn’t the two of you practically glued together at the hip and you credit her for her outgoing nature that always seemed to balance with your more introverted demeanor. Of course it didn't mean you couldn’t make friends without her [take Taehyung for example] but she’s always seemed to gravitate people toward you with her energy. That’s why you're not at all surprised by tonight’s events and how everyone seemed surprised that you came alone.

”Honestly, I’m happy you made it, it feels like we haven’t seen each other in so long,” Your friend, Hoseok, pointed out as he led you to the private area of the lounge bar where it seemed like a reunion was taking place, “When Miyoung said she wasn’t going to make it, I thought you probably weren’t going to show up and—“

”Is that what you would have preferred?” You asked with a teasing smile as he began to stumble over his words, attempting to backtrack.

“What? Y/n, don’t you know I’ve been desperately enamored by you since your first year? Don’t make such crass comments,” He joked back, helping you out of your coat as you grew closer to the room filled with loud chatter. He led you with hands on your shoulders and said, “And between us, I’m a little happy she didn’t come. I wasn’t really in the mood for this to turn into a Battle of the Exes fighting ground.”

”What do you mean?” You barely had time to ask as you entered the room where an explosion of your name was heard by old college classmates of yours who all seemed on the border of tipsy and in a good mood. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at everyone at once till your eyes fell on the person in question.

He didn’t hesitate to meet your gaze with equal surprise as you sat across from him, just one person down the line. Immediately the people next to you tried sparking a conversation and you used it as a distraction to keep from gawking at him. When Miyoung told you she wouldn’t make it, you debated coming yourself but after some begging from Hoseok you decided to come along. Despite your best friend not joining, you're kind of glad she didn’t. Hoseok is right, it would have been a battlefield and you did not want to be caught in the middle of it.

“Y/n.”

Ignore, maybe? Just ignore and maybe he’ll forget trying to talk to you and your head won't be on the chopping block. You looked down the table at some of the other people you remember from campus activities or long lectures and tried to ignore the growing smile you could see on his face from the corner of your eye.

“Hungry?” The person next to you asked as he made you look his way. There were platters of hand food across the bar table and you happily took whatever Jimin offered. As much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but look across the table to make sure it really was who you thought it was,

Jeon Jungkook.

Better known as your best friend’s ex boyfriend.

Or worse, the first guy you liked when you started University.

”Hi,” he said in a low voice, catching you in the middle of staring at him. In your defense, he seemed so different—more matured if you will. Now he was covered in tattoos and piercings, he lost that sort of boyish charm but clearly gained something else along the way. He was buff and bigger, more intimidating yet alluring? Safe to say he didn’t look like the ‘Boy Next Door’ you had a crush on in your English seminar.

“You’re here,” was all you could think to say back, giving up on your sorry attempt at ignoring him for no real reason other than saving yourself from an awkward encounter.

”So are you,” Jungkook bit into his bottom lip as he looked at you closely. How is it that someone could look so different but the same all at once? In your gaze he could still see that curiosity in everything that he remembered from back then when he would spend lectures wondering what was on your mind. In your appearance, he can see how much you’ve changed physically. They were surely small differences in everyone else’s eyes but he always had a tendency to pay too much attention to you and it would get him in trouble.

You gave him a polite nod in response to his blatant observation that matched yours and attempted to shift your attention elsewhere but he didnt let it get too far. He cleared his throat, “How have you been?”

“Me?” You asked, “Okay, I guess. Busy with work.”

“So I’ve heard, you’re in marketing now, right? What happened to your writing?” Jungkook asked, seeming genuinely curious to know. He didn’t care for the conversations happening around him more than he did hearing your response now that you looked more willing to give him one.

“It wouldn’t have paid the bills—You remember my writing?” You asked, surprise evident in your features that he couldn’t help but smile.

It was hard for him to forget his biggest competition at the time. He let out a small sigh, ready to go on about being unable to forget a certain piece you wrote when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. Yoongi stood over him, “Smoke break?”

Say no, he thought. Jungkook could easily reject the offer and continue what he was going to say. Without meaning to, he looked back at you, but you had excused yourself from the table in the blink of an eye. Nodding hesitantly, he grabbed his jacket and followed his friend out while he wondered where you went so suddenly.

You were hiding in the washroom when you got the call from Miyoung, like she had a sixth sense telling her to reach out.

“So how is it? Is it as boring as I said it’d be?” Miyoung asked as she waited in line for some nightclub she was going to with some of her various other friends.

“Um, kind of?” You said without much thought—knowing it was what she wanted to hear. In reality, it was fun. You were greeted warmly that it washed away your earlier worries and you’re being taken care of by old friends you didn't get to talk to as much. Not to mention, you’re seeing Jungkook again after a couple years of hearing and thinking of nothing about the guy, so you don’t actually think it's boring.

Miyoung snorted, “Figures, good thing I didn’t go. I could not sit through more than an hour of everyone going on and on about what they’ve been up to. I mean, yeah I miss Hobi and stuff but I could see him whenever, y’know? Who all showed up?”

“I think everyone,” You admitted with a nervous bite of your lip. It was now or never. You tell her that it seems like Jungkook has come to visit or has come back to stay and you’re not sure how she’ll take that. She might even march over here just to tell him how she's felt these last two years and chances are that’ll ruin the easy vibe for everyone else. You leaned against the stall door and talked with her.

“So you’re back,” Yoongi asked with a smirk as he took a drag from his cigarette, “My Golden Boy’s back? Someone pinch me.”

“Funny guy,” Jungkook said sarcastically as he looked out onto the busy street. Yoongi shrugged, turning toward the bar window looking around to see the group, “Aren’t you happy you came?”

“Yeah, it’s great seeing everyone again,” Jungkook told him casually, flicking the end of his cigarette and watching the ash fall to the cold cement of the street.

“Want to know who surprised me tonight?” Yoongi asked, looking over at him to see if his expression would change at all, “Y/n.”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, dropping ash to the ground, “Y/n never comes out to these sorts of things, and if she does come it’s usually with Miyoung but she came by herself tonight.

“Yeah…” Jungkook zoned out a bit as he thought about it more, “Why doesn’t she meet up with you guys often?”

“You know Y/n doesn't really go out,” Yoongi said, “And she’s busy with work, at least that’s what Hobi says. I don’t know, when Hobi said Miyoung wasn’t coming tonight we both expected Y/n to not show too but… hey, aren’t you happy she isn’t here?”

“I don’t really care either way,” Jungkook confessed truthfully, “But do you know if… y’know, you might have heard something about Y/n and if she’s still seeing someone or—“

“Oh God,” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as he put his cigarette out, Jungkook doing the same, “It’s been like three years, man.”

Jungkook watched him laugh as he walked off leaving him to follow, “What?”

Yoongi held the door open for him, “You know what, but I’ll answer your question, anyway. Last I heard Y/n is single, so what now?”

He waited for Jungkook to respond but he wasn’t listening anymore. There were too many things on his mind that he needed to work out before you came back to the table.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You just got here,” Jimin said to you as he held your hand in his to stop you from leaving, “One more drink.”

“It’s late,” You tried to say, “I’ve got to be up early.”

“Liar, it’s a Saturday night, Y/n. Sit your ass back down,” Hobi said with a firm voice making you sit down immediately. He flashed you a cute smile before asking everyone if they wanted another round of drinks.

“So, what were we talking about earlier?” Jungkook asked, trying to get you to talk to him again, “Your writing? Yeah, how can I forget it? Remember we used to read each other’s essays all the time before… well.”

Before he broke up with your best friend.

“Yeah, I remember,” You admitted, trying to find something to say. What kind of questions would Miyoung want to know? What do you want to know? What should you prepare your friend to know? “How long are you visiting?”

“Actually, I just moved back, I got a job doing graphic design for a local company,” Jungkook told you with the hint of a smile, “It’s my first time meeting up with everyone again.”

You let yourself indulge in small talk with him here and there but usually when he started it. The night had been fine, you enjoyed your time but after a while all you wanted to do was go home and Hoseok couldn’t make you stay any longer. You ended your night wondering if you should go out more.

Everything has a backstory, right? How it all started and yours seems pretty tacky. You spent the first couple years of University doing what you had to do in school and letting Miyoung drag you to whatever outing she had on the weekends. Some time in your third year, you joined this English class with the most boring, monotonous professor ever and that’s where you met Jungkook.

In all honesty, you thought he was cute from the get go. Sitting through three hours of a boring lecture led people to do odd things and one of those for you was staring at the cute guy who sat down a couple rows from you. It was just a little thing you did to pass time so you never expected anything to actually happen from it.

Then one day most of the seats were taken [naturally, it was a large class] and he seemed to have been running late because his usual cycle of seats were all taken except the one next to yours. Despite all those times you would find yourself ogling the stranger, when he was right next to you, you didn’t say a single word.

It was Jungkook who spoke first and it was just to ask if you could help him catch up. That day you were supposed to read someone else’s prompt and revise it and you chose each other which then trickled down to a routine of it. Without speaking much, he would sit next to you or silently save you a seat whenever you were running late and the one time you decided to switch it up and sit elsewhere…

Well, he was practically pouting the whole day.

It had been a nearly perfect set up to what could have been if you just allowed yourself to go for things but it didn’t happen that way.

One random Tuesday night, Miyoung wanted to go out for some cheap drinks and you found yourselves at a bar not too far from campus where you ran into a senior in one of your classes. Yoongi had come up to you first, just greeting you and making small talk when Jungkook who apparently had come with him, recognized you too.

They drank with you and Miyoung for a bit and you honestly thought it had been fun. You had never had real conversations with him outside of school work and it was nice to have more people to hang with that it just felt natural. Though at some point through the night Miyoung had gotten kind of flirty. She claims she assumed you had wanted Yoongi and not Jungkook and practically called dibs on him despite meeting him for the first time that night.

When she made her intents obvious, you couldn’t help but backtrack.

You always considered yourself pretty self aware about yourself. There was nothing special really and when you compare yourself to Miyoung there just isn’t much competition.

She was the perfect Prom Queen type who always had the nicest clothes or the cutest boyfriends, the best awards and most interesting stories. The amount of guys she would pull who you didn’t even have a chance with was insane. And though you might sound bitter, you’re not. You’ve never been the type to want the spotlight or attention and being best friends with someone so damn perfect was that you could always stay in the shadows.

So when she started flirting with Jungkook, you didn’t really notice his awkward glances or how he shied away from her proximity. You only saw how he smiled politely and listened to her go on and on about how great she is and assumed he was into her like all the others had been.

You tried to act normal after that, you would talk to him every now and then and never questioned why he stopped talking to you as much until he started dating Miyoung but you weren’t bitter. You were understanding.

It made sense he would date her. She was beautiful and smart and someone people pine for. It was a given that that would happen so once again, you didn’t take it personal.

They dated for a couple months [nothing serious at all] and then he dumped her which resulted in Miyoung practically forbidding you from even looking his way at all. You completed your last year without thinking about him despite the various mutual friends you shared and went on with your life when he moved.

That was the backstory and why you felt so awkward seeing him the other night.

You haven’t told Miyoung yet because there’s a high chance she won’t care at all and would get annoyed that you even thought to bring it up. Your friend is very pretty and she likes being in relationships so she’s been in quite a few since they dated and probably doesn’t care to be reminded at all.

The only person you’ve told is Taehyung.

“But did you at least have fun?” He asked as the two of you sat at a small restaurant for lunch. You nodded your head, “Yeah, it was alright. It was just weird, for me at least.”

“Why?” Taehyung asked as he dug into his meal, stuffing his mouth with no care in the world, “I mean it’s obvious everyone was happy to see you and didn’t want you to leave. Who cares if Miyoung didn’t go, clearly it didn’t matter to anyone else.”

You didn’t say anything, taking your time to enjoy your meal as you drifted off in thought. He is right, you know that sometimes it’s just in your head and you overthink things. You always feel like you’re boring to others so it’s natural for you to assume no one would be happy to see just you and not your bubble of joy best friend. There has to be a certain level of comfort between you and another person to show personality and it’s rare people get to see it.

“But how’d it go with that guy? Did he ask you about her?” Taehyung asked with a hint of curiosity.

“Not that I can remember. I don’t know, it was kind of awkward but we talked a bit,” You told him honestly, “He just moved back down so that’s cool I guess.”

Taehyung looked at you skeptically but you avoided his gaze, trying to distract yourself with your phone.

yoongi: throwing a welcome back party for jk this weekend, u coming?

you: idk, if I’m free

yoongi: … ur always free🤒

yoongi: just say yes, bring whoever u want

you: but is he ok with me going

yoongi: y wouldn’t he be

yoongi: he’s the one who asked me to make sure u come

you: okkkkkk 🥹

“Tae, can you come with me to this party please?” You asked, immediately showing your friend your text messages leaning across the table for him to see them clearly.

Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he read through the texts carefully, “Jungkook is the ex boyfriend, right? Why’s he so interested in you going?”

“He’s not,” you said, “He’s probably just doing it to be nice, since everyone I know will be there.”

“What if he’s… y’know, interested?” Taehyung asked curiously and you nearly choked on your drink.

“No, oh my god,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “We were just classmates and we stopped talking after he dumped Miyoung so—“

“Yeah but did you ever stop to think ‘hm, I’m the one who knew this guy first and then Miyoung went and snatched him from me before I even got a chance to explore’,” Taehyung said in a high pitched voice, presumably mocking yours. You reached over to playfully shove his shoulder making him grin mischievously.

“What? No, it wasn’t like that at all,” You tried to say, “Him and I didn’t even really talk until the night he met her at the bar and… no, that’s crazy. He liked Miyoung right away.”

Taehyung just sighed, giving up on trying to get through to you, “If you say so, but who’s the one he approached first? Because I can tell you right now it wasn’t her.”

Despite how he expresses himself when he talks about your best friend, he doesn’t dislike her. He thinks Miyoung is alright, maybe a little too much for his tastes but that doesn’t mean anything. He understands the two of you are really close and although he has had many chances to befriend her too, he just hasn’t.

He’ll talk to her if you force them to hang out together but he would never go out of his way to be her friend. It might sound bad but Taehyung is pretty protective over you and rightfully so, he feels.

He doesn’t want to badmouth one of his closest friends but you have a tendency to overthink things. You don’t realize how great you are and make yourself seem smaller and he thinks Miyoung and other people like her in your life are at fault. He’s heard some of the things she says to you and it’s like you hold her up so highly there’s no room for you to see how pretty, smart, and talented you are. And before anyone gets the wrong idea, he’s not in love with you or anything.

You’re too good for him so he gave up on that idea long ago.

Plus, now that he’s able to connect some of those pieces from when you were in Uni, some things are clicking into place for him. Miyoung tends to dim your light a bit, or copy something you do and claim it as her own and when he hears this little backstory between all of your old college friends… he just can’t help but wonder if Jungkook was one of those things she claimed for herself.

With that thought in mind, he agreed to go with you to this party and see for himself what is there and what could be. He just wants what’s best for you and for you to be able to go and get it without worrying you’re not good enough or stepping on anyone’s toes.

When Friday night came, your apartment was filled with loud music and even louder complaints coming from one person in particular. Taehyung was just listening to you and Miyoung go back and forth about tonight’s plans and it got to the point where you couldn’t say anything but the truth about what you would be doing tonight.

“It’s a welcome back party for Jungkook,” You said, trying your hardest not to let your voice sound strained.

“What? When did he get back?” Miyoung asked, sitting up from your bed and tossing your pillow off her lap, “Like he moved back?”

“Yeah, I guess not too long ago,” You said with a shrug, looking in your mirror to see if you liked the way you looked or not, “I don’t know, Yoongi is the one who invited me.”

“Why didn’t I know? Why wasn’t I invited?” Miyoung asked, turning to Taehyung like he would have the answers.

“Probably because you’re his ex girlfriend and you ditched out on their little reunion so you could party,” Taehyung said, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Yeah but, why’d they ask Y/n? She’s not even friends with him,” Miyoung said with a slight scoff, “You’re not actually going right? We could go out, just the three of us. You already hung out with them, you and I haven’t gone out in weeks, let’s just do our own thing. Unless you’re trading me in for all of them.”

You looked at her with apologetic eyes. You’ve been busy with work recently and she is right. The last people you hung out with aside from Taehyung were all of them two weekends ago so it would only be fair to hang out with her this time. It shouldn’t mean anything that you were invited and that Jungkook wanted to make sure you were going. Miyoung was supposed to be your best friend so how could you go to a party she wasn’t invited to?

Just as you were going to give in and shoot Yoongi a text that you weren’t going to make it, Taehyung spoke up for you. “Why don’t you just come with? One of them said Y/n can bring whoever she wants and I’m already going so it’s not like you have to be by yourself. Plus, aren’t the rest of them supposed to be your friends too? Y/n already agreed.”

“Why didn’t you ask me first?”

“I didn’t realize I needed permission,” You couldn’t help but sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed to comfort her, “We can just stop by, have a drink or two and leave if it’s lame. Come on.”

After much convincing, the three of you arrive at Yoongi’s place which was a small house with good outdoor space and the inside was packed with people already. The amount of party goers made you anxious but at the same time slightly thrilled that surely the attention would never be on you with so many people around.

“Y/n! Miyoung!” Namjoon spotted you two first and he threw his arms around you both with a grin, “Surprised to see you here, Mimi.”

“Yeah, probably because I was the only one not invited,” Miyoung said bitterly, making Namjoon take a drink from his cup and look away nervously.

“Let’s get you guys drinks then,” He said with an awkward clear of his throat looking to Taehyung, “What’s up, I’m Namjoon.”

“Taehyung,” he said, following you to the drinks table. The music played loudly and there were a lot of people having a good time that it was somewhat easy to try and blend in and act normal. Miyoung had a pout on her face, looking around worried but Namjoon brightened her mood and every now and then another friend would stop by to greet her. Taehyung mostly clung to you and only drifted away when a friend would spark conversation with you but you were thankful he was around.

“Y/n,” someone called out to you from across the room. You couldn’t make them out through the crowd of people and it took a while before you spotted Jungkook making his way to your direction.

“Jungkook,” you said with a nervous breath, looking around for Miyoung but she was off with Namjoon talking about god knows what.

“How long have you been here? Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook asked, slightly more energetic than usual. His hair was messy, with strands out of place, he wore a basic black tee and baggy jeans so why did he look good? It’s still hard for you to wrap your mind around who this is.

He’s gotten so muscular and just… more intimidating with his tattoo sleeve and piercings and it’s so unexpected but in a good way.

“I, um, you know, I just assumed you were busy,” you lied, looking around for one of your friends. Taehyung was at the table getting a drink and he’ll be back soon to save you before Miyoung looks around.

Jungkook found himself looking around too, as if he could see what you did but he came up short, “Did you come with anyone?”

“Yeah, Miyoung and a friend of mine,” you rushed the words out in hopes of sounding casual but Jungkook didn’t even bat an eye.

“So what are you doing alone?” He asked with a raised brow, taking a step closer to you, “Actually, there’s something that’s been on my mind since last time I saw you and I uh… I haven’t had the chance to say it.”

You blinked nervously, looking up at him and how close he was to you, “What is it?”

He licked his lips, playing with his lip rings shyly, “Well, I was wondering if you would like to get together some time, just you and I. We’ve never had the chance to hang out.”

“We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?” You asked, feigning naivety that almost seemed teasing. In truth, you could sense what he was possibly asking and you needed him to stop. There was no reason for you two to hang out alone, no matter how much the thought made you giddy.

“I guess,” Jungkook couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together in confusion. He took another step closer to you, hand on the wall behind you for support. , “But I was still hoping… I know it’s probably kind of awkward but we’re grown, right? We can get together without worrying about anyone else.”

“Who says it’s because I’m worried?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to ease some of the growing tension caused by the way he looked at you, “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

That made him crack a smile, “All of a sudden?”

“Yes, all of a sudden,” another voice added in from behind him and you jumped at the sound. Jungkook didn’t bother to turn around, he was more focused on the way you tried to look behind him and meet Miyoung’s glare.

“Where’d you run off to?” You asked, pushing past him making Jungkook slide his hand off the wall and roll his eyes at the disruption.

“Somewhere I felt wanted,” she said bitterly, eyes on Jungkook as she spoke to you, “Let’s go, I’m bored.”

“I thought you were having a good ti—“

“I’m not, Y/n,” Miyoung almost snapped, “You said we could have a drink and go. We’ve been here for like forever and I want to leave. That’s what we agreed on.”

“Okay, jeez, let’s go then,” You said with a sigh, “Let me find Taehyung.”

“Go, then,” Miyoung said, making you take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself she had a right to be upset. She didn’t want you [as her best friend] talking to her ex boyfriend. And you did say you didn’t have to stick around for long…

“What?” Miyoung asked Jungkook with a roll of her eyes as she caught him staring, “Did I interrupt something?”

“You still don’t know how to speak to people like they’re human beings,” Jungkook said simply, “And it’s sad to watch.”

“Screw you,” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re just mad I stopped you from trying to ask my best friend out. My friends are off limits.”

“She was my friend too,” Jungkook said as a reminder, “And I can do whatever I want. You’re just childish.”

She snorted, “Right, says the guy who fumbled me.”

He couldn’t seem to act mature anymore and before he stop himself he said, “Remember, you’re not the one I wanted anyway.”

He walked off without much care for how she felt and found his other friends, wondering who it was you ran off to find.

“Tae, can we go now?” You asked your friend. Taehyung had found himself a group of people to entertain with his stories and had nearly forgotten who he had tagged along with until you pulled him to the side.

“Uh, okay,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly, “What happened? I thought everyone was having a good time.”

“Miyoung wants to leave,” You said with a small sigh, “She saw me talking to Jungkook and I just don’t want it to become this big problem so can we please just go?”

Taehyung placed an arm on your shoulder, leading you to Miyoung who waited at the door, “Yeah, sure let’s go.”

The car had only stayed silent for the first half of the drive to Miyoung’s apartment. Somewhere between the last red light and this short stretch of road, a fire had been lit underneath her which made her start up again.

“So what was that back there?” Miyoung asked from the backseat and you debated just acting asleep or like you were too drunk to listen properly. She leaned forward, looking at you closely.

“What do you mean?” You asked nervously.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Miyoun said with an annoyed tone, “First you get invited to a party for my ex boyfriend and next thing I know the two of you are whispering in the corner looking like you’re about to kiss and like I’m not even in the room.”

Taehyung had to bite his tongue from responding, worried that if he spoke too soon it would only make you seem more weak to her antics. He just tapped his fingers against the window trying to keep silent

“Miyoung,” You started with a sigh, “You’re overreacting. It was nothing, we’re friends—“

“Since when?” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re supposed to be my friend, Y/n.”

“I am,” You said defensively, “And if you want to talk about this tomorrow then that’s fine but right now it’s late and we’ve all been having a decent time so don’t ruin it…”

“Y/n’s right, let’s end the night on a good note,” Taehyung finally said but he seemed to go ignored by you two.

“You’re not though, real friends wouldn’t flirt with their best friend’s ex boyfriend—“

“You two dated for less than five months and it was years ago,” You blurted out, “I knew him before that so don’t act like I’m betraying you.”

“Oh my god, I knew you’d still be bitter I started seeing him,” Miyoung said, suddenly making you hide your face in your hand from exhaustion. “I didn’t know you had a thing for him back then. You should’ve said something instead of holding it against me like you do everything else.”

“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but scoff.

Miyoung’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “You know exactly what I’m talking about and it’s not fair.”

Taehyung took a deep breath, fingers clenched around the steering wheel unable to bite his tongue any longer, “Miyoung I don’t think you’re being fair. You’re clearly drunk and you just want to arg—“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” She snapped, slurring on her words a bit and not even realizing the car came to a stop in front of her building, “I’m not even talking you and you can stop acting like Y/n’s bodyguard because last time I checked she’s a grown adult who could speak for herself. God, I swear everyone is the same. Just because Y/n is boring and insecure, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to speak for herself.”

“Get out. We’re at your place so just go,” Taehyung said, annoyed with the harshness she was projecting on you, “Y/n might put up with you but I won’t.”

With an irritated scoff, she swung the back door open, “Fine, screw you guys too.”

The door slammed shut as she stormed up to her apartment and Taehyung waited till she was gone to say, “Fuck, what did that girl drink? Y/n, why do you put up with that? Hey.”

You stayed silent for a moment letting her words sink in. Whatever, she yelled and threw a tantrum, that’s fine, that’s normal. But she seriously thinks you’re just a bore and maybe you’re starting to believe it too. If it weren’t for you always being cautious over how she might feel about you and what you do, you wouldn’t seem so boring.

Or was that just how you were and now you’re trying to say it’s because of Miyoung? Jeez, you just can’t seem to make up your mind about anything but all you know is that… you’re not boring. Well, you don’t have to be. If she wants to think that always backing up whatever she says makes you boring, then maybe it’s time you just do what you want even if she doesn’t like it.

“Tae, can you do me a favor,” You finally said, making him look over at you curiously. The car is still parked in front of Miyoung’s place and he’s been waiting for you to speak anyway, “What?”

“Take me back to the party please.”

Miyoung was wrong, if you were boring it’s because she made you boring. Anytime you did anything on your own, she always had to ruin it and you just let her. You just let Miyoung monopolize your time and make you her right-hand in everything. You’ve never gotten the chance to truly put yourself out there because you firmly believed you didn’t compare.

Maybe you needed to stop overthinking and just do what you want, be confident—or at least act like you are.

“Y/n! You’re back?” Yoongi asked once you made it to the party again, “Let me tell you, I was mad because I thought you left before even talking to me.”

“I’m so very sorry,” You said playfully, “But do you know where Jungkook is?”

He seemed to freeze up, surprise written on his face and he looked down at you questioning. You held his gaze, watching the wheels turn in his head before he was blurting out, “I don’t know. The bathroom?”

You blinked nervously, letting him slip away from you when someone called for him and were left standing there. Your mind was racing with ideas yet you couldn’t think of what to do.

What did you expect coming back?

What does this prove?

You feel anxious and insecure and maybe she was right, you’re boring and you don’t even speak up or do anything exciting.

“Jungkook?” You called out to him as you walked down the hall of doors, knocking or opening whichever door you landed on. You got to the last door with a bated breath, realizing it’s a bedroom and closed yourself in.

Your sense of bravado had been short lived. Whatever burst of confidence you had was completely gone now that you sat alone in the guest room contemplating just going home or not.

In all honesty, this was stupid from the very beginning. You let Miyoung’s words get to you and you acted before you could think. You didn’t need to prove anything. Plus, you don’t want Jungkook. Maybe once before you did… but not… anymore?

God, you felt like an idiot.

“Y/n?”

Your heart dropped with a sense of disbelief as you looked up. The once pitch black room was illuminated by a block of light from the open bathroom door. Jungkook stood at the doorway, brows furrowed as he looked at who sat on the bed.

“Jungkook,” you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“You’re back?” He asked, looking you up and down with a hint of suspicion. You nodded your head silently, making him blink with confusion.

You stood up from the bed suddenly, “Are you done in there?”

“Uh, yeah,” he moved out of your way, watching you closely as you closed the door in his face before he could say anything else.

Maybe this had been a sign that you didn’t want to talk to him but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the privacy in the bedroom to go out where everyone else was. He could hear the faucet running but oblivious to how you wet your face to try and snap yourself out of this strange mood before drying off. When you opened the door, you didn’t expect to see him standing there right in front of you.

“Everything alright?” He asked, halfway in the doorway, walking forward making you step deeper into the bathroom.

“Yeah, everything’s great,” you said with a strained smile, backing away, “Just—what about you? Has it been fun, this is all for you, right?”

“I guess,” Jungkook shrugged, “But it would have been more fun if you stayed.”

“Good thing I came back then,” you couldn’t help but laugh nervously, leaning against the sink counter.

“Good thing,” Jungkook licked his dry lips, “Y/n, about what I was saying earlier… I would honestly like for us together sometime, just the two of us.”

A small, shy smile appeared on your lips as you thought about earlier and repeated yourself playfully, “We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?”

“I guess,” he blinked in confusion, looking down at you and struggling to keep his composure. Your response was a bit of a let down since he hoped you had come back to see him and he should have known better. You would never take him seriously after his mess with Miyoung and he was always reaching for the stars thinking it could work out.

Plus, you’re too good for him. You always have been.

He can’t explain why, but he’s always felt a sense of ease with you, like everything was perfect. As shameful as it is to admit, Miyoung had reasons to be worried.

When they dated… well, it didn’t stop him from thinking about you from time to time. Miyoung was aware of it too and he looks back on it now and realizes how wrong he was then. It was wrong for him to think about you when he was never able to have you, and he will be much less now.

“Am I wrong? Is it not just the two of us now?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat and looking to the bathroom door which was closed some time ago.

“Y/n,” he said it softly but you could sense his warning tone, like you were going to get yourself in trouble. Jungkook wanted to believe you were aware of what this looked like yet he knew there was a chance you weren’t. He couldn’t just go for it.

He could not just go for it.

Not even if you looked up at him with a look in your eyes that said you might want him to…

He could be dreaming it up.

Would you want him to?

No. No way, you would never, that’s how this all started right? You wouldn’t want him the way he wanted you and you’ll go be with someone else while he beats himself up for another failed attempt. He’s not in college anymore, he can’t make the same mistakes.

You do not want him.

“Y/n,” he said with a sigh, “I think we should get out n—“

It was soft but sudden. One second he was giving up on everything he had been hoping for and was ready to go on once again without telling you how he really felt. The next, your lips were on his, barely giving him a chance to feel the tenderness of it before pulling away with a gasp.

“Jungkook,” you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh my god. I’m s-sorry, I, that was not okay. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You were rambling, apologizing for doing it without asking him first but in all honesty, he couldn’t hear you anymore. There was a strange ringing in his ear that only seemed to stop when he grabbed your face in his hands, and pulled you into a real kiss.

To keep yourself from leaning back too far, you wrapped your arms around his neck and met him the rest of the way. You kissed him back with an equal sense of urgency that had his eyes falling shut and letting himself get lost in the moment. Your lips were soft against his own and his lip rings felt cold on your tongue the first couple times.

At one point you surprised him by nipping at his piercings with a soft tug and it had his hands tightening around your waist, using his strength to pull you onto the counter with ease. It made it easier to kiss you and he let the small sigh you let out guide his tongue between your lips. Your hands were in his dark hair, and you surprised him with the way you took lead of the kiss. It felt like he was melting into you and it was doing things to him.

“Y/n,” he mumbled softly, “I want you so bad.”

You pulled back from him with widened eyes. It was the first time you heard him sound that way and you knew he meant it. He looked at you with an intense gaze and it felt good to be looked at that way by him. You wanted him too, right? That’s why you came back. That's why you were so upset back then. Why can’t you have him now?

What was really stopping you?

Nothing.

The second time he kissed you, you didn’t hesitate from doing more and it had his mouth dropping when he felt your hand trace down his toned chest. He let that feeling motivate his hands to do the same to you and they ran along your sides till he could feel your front. His hands slipped under your top and found your chest, gently reaching to touch you as he kissed you with his tongue.

Your fingers trailed down his navel to the waistband of his jeans, tugging softly and teasingly that you felt the way he sucked in a shaky breath. When he didn’t pull away to tell you to stop, you took it as a sign to go a little farther and undo the button and zipper. Jungkook’s rough fingers caressed your breasts ever so softly but with an added pressure that made you let out a small sigh, especially when he ran his thumb over your nipples.

He released a light groan against your lips when you got more confident in your actions and slipped into the hem of his Calvin Klein’s. You barely touched his growing member but you felt it harden against you, the more attention you gave to it and it was all just exciting to you. His kisses were needy and his rough hands felt so good against your sensitive buds that you couldn’t hold yourself back. You wanted to make him feel good too and you could tell you were.

Jungkook helped you tug his jeans down enough for you to have more reign over him and you touched his bare dick so softly. The first touch was light and teasing, like you were still letting him get lost in the feeling before you actually did anything but it was soft that it made a tingle run down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin and blood ran straight to his cock making it easier for you softly palm him to full hardness.

You circled your fingers around his tip, softly running your thumb around the ring feeling him twitch with need and softly sliding down to his base.

His movement grew rougher, he was no longer softly caressing your breasts but more groping, never getting enough for the softness of them. When you began to stroke him gently, he found it hard to keep himself from digging his nails into your flesh to ground himself and it made a hand of his fall to your leg. His palm was wide and flat against your inner thigh, tracing his lips down your jaw and to your neck to try and distract himself from getting too lost into the feeling.

“Fuck,” he huffed, licking his dry lips as he began to slowly fuck into your closed fist, deaf to the sound of music just outside the bedroom you two were hiding in. The bathroom felt even smaller at this point yet he couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it now. Especially not when your hand began to fuck his cock faster, with more vigor as he twitched in your hold making his nails dig into your thigh harshly.

Your skirt was scrunched up around your hips at this point and he could see the soft blue of your laced underwear and couldn’t stop himself anymore. He had grown too curious to have you and with his hand so close already, he let his thumb trace along your covered folds.

They were already sensitive at this point and his sudden touch made your insides tighten with arousal, your back straightened in surprise and a light moan left your lips. The sound snapped his attention away from his own pleasure and when he did it again, he swallowed your moan with his mouth on yours.

He couldn’t take thing slow anymore, especially not when his dick felt so close to the edge already and was trying not to cum all over your hand and so soon.

You were withering against him, squirming on the counter to feel more of his hand against your heat. Your fingers tightened in his hair when he reached under to the hem of your panties, pulling them down as far as he could. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he tugged them down your thighs. Jungkook pulled away from your lips with a slight groan as he brought his fingers to your lips. He pressed into your bottom lip watching close as you drew your mouth open and took them in. As you licked between two fingers, your hand’s stroking sped up with more pressure that had him pushing them deeper down your throat.

When he pulled them out there was an obvious line of drool connecting his fingertips to your lips and he brought his hand between your legs once more. The mixture between his rough fingers and the slick that now coated them made a tingle run down your spine when they ran along your folds. You pinched the fabric of his shirt as he circled your hardening clit with his middle finger while his index finger began to tease your sensitive labor.

He ran the longer finger down your slit, dipping into the puddle of arousal that formed at your center before using it to wet your clit and massage you gently.

You looked into his eyes as he finally pressed his middle finger into your waiting cunt, giving you a second to respond and he couldn’t help but let his lips slip open with heavy breaths. Your hand stopped its actions as you took in the feeling of him pulling out his finger before pushing it forward once more. Each time felt hotter than the last and it made him want to take things further. When he thought you adjusted enough, he teased the tip of his ring finger in with his middle one and kept a steady pace of thrusting.

At this point you began to stroke him again, rubbing against his mushroom tip where a thick vein was felt along the underside of it. Your hips had began to move with the motion of his hand and you were fucking his fingers into you while fucking his cock with a closed fist. The both of you were left speechless, unsure how long you had been locked away in the bathroom but not caring either.

You felt more impatient than him but you couldn’t help it. You can’t remember the last time you let someone else touch you and none felt quite like this. Jungkook seemed to know where to kiss, where to press or pay attention to and he never left a part of you untouched. Even now as he thrusted his fingers into you, his other hand was at your chest again, fingers pinching your nipple and tugging harshly but it brought little whines from your lips.

“Jungkook,” You were breathlessly calling for him and you’re sure that if your back wasn’t to the mirror, you would be able to see how desperate you looked to him. Your other hand was on his hips, pulling him forward in hopes of getting him to get the hint that you needed more, “Fuck me.”

“What?” He asked with heavy breaths, looking down at the way the tip of his cock pressed against your inner thigh now, “Really?”

“Please,” You found yourself begging, desperately begging for him to give you something and oh, how it worked.

His eyes rolled back at the soft sound of your begs and with a hand on your thigh, he pulled you harshly to the edge of the counter. He placed his hand over yours and stroked himself once, twice, to slick his member with your arousal and his own.

His cock was hot to the touch and pointed straight to your waiting entrance. He had made such a mess of you already that when he pressed his tip into your clit, it nearly slid down from how wet you are. You had to bite your lip to keep from whining too loud when he teased you with that repeated motion, wetting his tip more and feeling the way your walls tightened and released for him.

Your back was fully against the mirror now, legs open waiting for him and you were getting impatient. The anticipo had been building up for too long and you brought your hand between your legs. All it took was a soft push down for his cock to sink into your waiting pussy.

His jaw went slack at the sudden tightness of it, he hadn’t expected it to be so snug. His tip barely pushed against the ring of nerves and your facial expression matched his own when he kept going. He held your thighs open, guiding himself in with a deep breath.

“Fucking hell,” he growled lowly, hands trembling as he kept you open and ready to take him in. He looked up at your eyes, completely enamored by the way your features softened with pleasure. Your eyes were glazed over with obvious lust that made him want to just fuck you into oblivion.

“Oh my god,” your hand circled around his neck, pulling him into a sloppy wet kiss that left him biting your lip softly. He groaned against your lips as he picked up the pace of his thrusting, letting his cock drag against your puffy walls so that you could feel every juncture on his length. Your back was arched into him, your chest nearly pressed against his and he snuck his arm around your waist to pull you firmly against him.

“That’s it baby,” Jungkook groaned into your ear, gripping onto the counter with his free hand to fuck you better. You were on the edge of the sink and he bucked his hips up to reach that pleasure spot he had found with his fingers just moments ago and had you moaned loudly into his ear, “You sound pretty, tell me how it feels.”

“Feels good,” you whispered softly against his neck, lips teasing kisses against his skin that made the veins in his arms bulge, “Don’t stop, please.”

“Ngh, Y/n, beg for me,” Jungkook said with a deep voice filled with lust as he fucked you with all his strength. There were too many layers of clothing between you but neither of you seemed to have the time or energy to tear them off. You were both too focused on the pleasure that came from feeling his skin against yours.

Your legs tightened around his waist forcing more of his length into your sopping cunt and his fingers pinched your sides roughly. Without thinking, Jungkook lifted you off the counter. You clung to him as he stepped back and he needed a second to just feel the way your pussy tightened around his hard, thick cock. He wanted to dig into your guts and it was nasty how badly he wanted to have you cum all over him.

It was so unexpected because you always came off as a quiet, reserved person but here you were letting him tear you in two with his fat dick. Jungkook used his strength to push you against the door, letting you drop onto his length before backing his hips up and pistoning them back into you.

“Fuck, I can’t,” your legs tightened around him with your face digging into his neck, “Jungkook, baby, I can’t.”

“You can,” He whispered, pressing you firmly into the wall, “Come on baby, take it.”

“Too much,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as he picked up the pace and you searched around for something to hold. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, trying to anchor yourself as he fucked you so good you could barely focus on anything but the pleasure, “I’m so close.”

Jungkook’s hand held you firmly by the waist while the other cupped your ass, groping you harshly as he fucked you onto his length trying to make you cum, “Cum baby, for me. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you moaned, “Kiss me, please?”

He didn’t hesitate to do so, kissing you with tongue as you clung to him, moaning into his ear and shaking slightly. His knees buckled tightly to hold you up and just as he gave one final thrust to the hilt, he felt your orgasm hit you.

Your walls tightened around him, nearly bringing him to his own orgasm before feeling his tip get flooded with your release. His thighs shook with the pressure of it and he felt his strength leaving him. His abdomen grew tense and he pushed you back to the counter where you let your head fall back with pleasure. You swallowed dryly, panting heavily, “Oh my god.”

You were sweaty, tired and overall unsure what to think but your mind hadn’t cleared yet. All you could focus on was the way Jungkook’s dick throbbed painfully hard when he pulled out of you with a slight pop. You eyed his red member, slightly hypnotized by how pretty it looked and you dropped to your knees wordlessly.

Jungkook watched you slip down on your knees in front of him and it took him a moment to process what was going on. He was hard, so fucking hard he couldn’t think straight and it wasn’t until your hands held his thighs, eyeing his cock hungrily did he realize what you wanted to do. He brought a hand fo attempt and gently brush your hair back, “Y/n, baby, you don’t have t—oh fuck.”

His jaw went slack when your hands circled his base, your lips on his tip and taking him down your throat suddenly. Your nose brushed against the base of his cock, eyes watering as you tried relaxing your throat around him and he nearly stumbled back with surprise, “Y/n.”

You ignored his call of your name, and began to bob your head against his length, your tongue licking along the thick vein you discovered earlier and feeling his hands sink into your hair to guide you, “That’s it, fuck.”

Jungkook looked at his reflection in the mirror, turned on by the way your head was seen bobbing against his length and his body was overheating so much he had to pull his shirt over his toned chest to cool down. It gave him a perfect view of the way his cock disappeared between your lips.

The thought of having you like this hadn’t dawned on him yet but now he couldn’t forget it. The memory would always be ingrained in his mind and although he doesn’t know if he’ll never get a chance to do this again, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

You gradually began to pick up the pace, using your hands to hold closed fists around his cock to help stroke what didn’t fit in your mouth. You swallowed and bobbed around his dick hungrily, moaning around him and hollowing your cheeks when you would pull your head back until only his tip was between your lips.

As ashamed as he was to admit it, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back anymore. Still wanting to warn you, he tried to guide your head off him, “I’m close.”

All it did was push you to take him deeper, stopping when he hit the back of your throat and sucked. Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut with a loud growl as his orgasm hit him harder than it had in a very long time.

You coughed as his cum sprayed down your throat, thick and creamy with a bittersweet taste that you tried to lick up. You would’ve cleaned him off fully despite his legs shaking but he pulled you off. He pulled his softening dick out of your wet mouth with a huff, panting heavily as he looked down at you.

“Y/n,” his voice was dry, pulling you up to your feet, “That was…”

He couldn’t even get the words out as he watched you lick the corner of your lips and without thinking about it, he pulled you into a heated kiss. You kissed him back with need, moaning against him as his tongue circled around yours hungrily, not caring for the way he tased on you. You only broke away to catch your breath, realization dawning at you as you looked at his messy appearance that surely mirrored yours.

You sat against the counter for a moment, attempting to catch your breath as Jungkook did the same. The two of you were silently readjusting your clothes again and you needed just a moment to yourself. He looked at you, buttoning his jeans back up, “Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah, um, can I just get a minute,” You said with a hoarse voice trying to pretend like you couldn’t see the way his shoulders slumped down. With a short nod of his head, he left the bathroom to let you wash up and for a moment you just looked at yourself in the mirror.

Your reflection looked different, maybe because what you had just done was so out of character and with your best friend’s ex but… why did it feel right?

Jungkook wondered what would happen now, if you expected him to leave the room or wait for you but he wanted to be with you. He didn’t want to walk out and think that because he got something he’s been wanting for years now, he’ll just leave. He knows the others are looking for him, mostly because he’s gotten a few texts now asking where he’s at but he can’t bring it in himself to care. When you opened the bathroom door into the dark room, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, rushing to his feet, “Are you sure everything is fine?”

“Yeah, yes,” you nodded stiffly, “If you want to go out there with everyone else that’s fine. I won’t be upset or anything.”

“Well, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to come back to mine?”

The first thing you noticed the following morning aside from the sun shining down on your face was the heavy arm across your waist. It made your eyes flutter awake with a small huff leaving your lips as you attempted to stretch your limbs but it tightened around you, securing you closer to Jungkook’s naked chest.

“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily into your hair as he hugged you closer.

“What time is it?” You asked awkwardly, trying to sit up making his arm slide to your hips instead. You reached for your cell phone, eyes widening by the number of text messages.

miyoung: bye I was drunkkkkkk 😳

miyoung: did I 🤮 at all?

miyoung: r u alive

miyoung: helloooooooo

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you read it over. Either she couldn’t remember how upset she was in the car or she’s going to pretend like nothing at all happened.

God, what did you do?

“Y/n,” Jungkook grumbled tiredly, “Lay back down.”

“I should go,” You bit your lip nervously. If Miyoung forgot what happened last night then maybe she forgot about Jungkook asking you and won’t know you… slept with him. Fuck, were you a bad friend?

He dated your best friend and dumped her out of the blue making it obvious he wanted nothing to do with her and here you are letting him fuck you in the bathroom. What did that make you? You had a poor lapse of judgment last night, you acted out of character and hadn’t been behaving like yourself at all.

“Why?” He sat up suddenly, “You don’t work today, right? Why don’t we go grab breakfast—well, brunch.”

You looked down at him, unable to stop yourself from taking in his appearance. He had bed hair, no shirt on and his blanket draped over his waist. He failed to take off his jewelry last night so he still wears silver chain necklaces around his neck and leather bracelets. You couldn’t possibly spend time with him still. It wasn’t right, right?

Just as you were ready to give him your answer, your phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. You looked down at the screen and a picture of you and Miyoung displayed on the screen that had Jungkook huffing quietly and laying back down, close to giving up.

In all honesty, you weren’t in the mood to talk to her. It still bothered you by how harsh she was last night but there’s a chance she doesn’t even remember and… “Hello?”

“Tell me why I have a raging headache when I barely drank last night?” Miyoung said immediately once the call went through, “It’s your fault y’know for upsetting me.”

You couldn’t see her but she was walking on a treadmill in her apartment acting like everything was completely normal. Jungkook didn’t care for your conversation either but he was focused on the way you looked first thing in the morning.

You looked cute, undeniably cute with circles under your eyes and a disheveled appearance. You wore an oversized shirt of his so you wouldn’t have to sleep in such uncomfortable clothes and he loved it. You looked good in his clothes.

Without thinking, he sat up and pressed his lips to yours in a short and surprising kiss. You flinched back with confusion, nearly dropping your phone in the process but he backed away with a small smile. You tried to glare at him but you couldn’t stop from smiling and it annoyed you when he placed a gentle kiss against your neck that made you feel flustered. You almost forgot you were on the phone when he leaned in for a kiss again and one you would surely grant.

“But I forgive you,” Miyoung said suddenly.

“What?”

“I forgive you, I’m over it,” Miyoung said with a shrug you couldn’t see, “Our friendship means more to me than Jungkook and I know you would never do anything that you know would upset me so… it’s whatever. In the past.”

“Wait,” You held up a hand to Jungkook as you said it to the both of them, “When did I apologize?”

He stopped immediately, looking at you with concern as Miyoung went on, “I mean, we both know you were going to. I’m just letting you know it’s alright.”

“No, Miyoung, I wasn’t going to,” you couldn’t help but scoff, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Technically.

Jungkook raised his brows, surprised by your tone and a little turned on? Was that okay to say?

“I didn’t mean it like that, but you know… you were flirting with the guy who dumped me,” Miyoung said, “It’s fine, whatever, you want to flirt with Jungkook, I don’t care anymore I just thought I meant more to you as a friend.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment as you looked down at Jungkook who couldn’t seem to go more than a minute without attention. He had your free hand in his measuring your size difference and you released a sigh, “You know what, I’m kind of busy right now so I’ll call you later.”

Miyoung wasn’t able to get a word in before you ended the call, turning your attention to Jungkook, “You’re getting me in trouble, sir.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, biting back a grin, “How should I make it up to you? Brunch?”

“You’re still thinking about that?” You asked with a slight laugh.

It was strange trying not to let your best friend’s feelings bring you down too.

“I’m hungry,” Jungkook said, hand on his toned stomach for detail.

“I don’t have clothes or, I don’t know, a toothbrush,” you couldn’t help but sound sarcastic, falling back on the bed with an arm on his chest.

“Don’t worry, I got you.”

In the end you caved to his incessant begging and found yourself dressed as casual as ever with an oversized tee and the skirt you wore last night clashing horribly. The only thing that had you regretting it was what stood [parked] in front of you.

“You’re not serious, are you?” You asked as you watched him walk up to you with a helmet in his hands, “I can’t get on that.”

“You can,” Jungkook said, putting it over your head, “I’m a very safe driver.”

“What about your car?” You asked nervously as he buckled[?] you into the head gear, “Can’t we just go in that.”

“We can but that won’t impress you,” Jungkook snorted a laugh as he got his own helmet on, “Come on Y/n, I won’t kill you, don’t worry.”

With a small sigh you nodded, letting him lead you to the bike and he swung a leg over to straddle it and patted the seat right behind him. Frankly, you didn’t care that you were in a skirt. You know that there’s an appropriate way for people in skirts to straddle something but you cared more about living so you straddled it the way he did. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he felt the softer touch of your hands on his waist and without saying a word, he pulled you into him suddenly. Your chest was pressed to his back and your arms snug around his waist.

“Atta girl, no time to be shy now,” he chuckled, feeling you smack his arm playfully.

If he were being honest, he liked this side of you. He’s never seen it before and it was breathtaking and enjoyable. Before when you were just classmates you were still stand offish from him and the only night he got you to open up was the first time he ran into you and met Miyoung. It was short lived and once he dated her, he rarely got to see you alone.

When he got back, you would barely even look at him yet whatever spurred last night’s events seemed to open up new possibilities for you two. You haven’t talked about what happened but he’s expecting it almost excitedly.

Jungkook’s hand ran up your thighs, securing you to him as he started up the motorcycle, feeling the smoothness of your leg and teasing the end of your skirt with a small tug, “Ready?”

He felt you squeeze harder before taking off.

The cafe was small and filled with warmth making this feel oddly close to a date… which is probably because it was? You’re still not sure how to take it.

“Did I really get you in trouble?” Jungkook asked as he cut his breakfast sandwich in half before doing the same with yours. When you looked at him he looked concerned by the notion. You didn’t have to ask to know what he was referring to and you couldn’t help but sigh, “Not really, sorry, it was more my fault than any—“

“Why though?” Jungkook cut you off, “Why is it always your fault? You can’t talk to me now?”

“You know we didn’t just talk,” you bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t meet his gaze and he didn’t like that.

He huffed in annoyance, “But she doesn’t know, or does she? I mean, what does it matter?”

“You dated. She’s my best friend and it bothers her, I already feel guilty for what happened last night—not that I regret it, don’t get me wrong but… well, it’s just confusing and it upsets her,” You rambled, still defending Miyoung even when she was slowly getting under your skin.

“We dated so long ago, it was such a short fling,” Jungkook said with a laugh as he went back to eating, “And she dumped me so why does it matter if you and I get together?”

“I don’t know, I just… she’s my best frie—wait, what did you say?” You met his stare suddenly making him set down his coffee cup to answer.

“She dumped me so why can’t you and I…” he stopped. Did you mean for him to repeat the part about being with you? Did you want him to say it again, maybe use the right words this time?

Why is he saying Miyoung dumped him? You remember the day exactly.

Miyoung called you while you were studying in the library late one night, not fully in tears but clearly under duress and she couldn’t stop herself from letting her emotions get to her. She went on to tell you how Jungkook dumped her suddenly over a phone call because he wasn’t interested anymore and was just using her or something.

You remember because you left the library to go comfort her and you almost ran into him on campus and he wouldn’t even look you in the eye…

He dumped her because he got bored, that’s why she asked you to stop talking to him. He was just like every other guy according to her and you owed her the promise to avoid him. It was you who introduced them anyway and…

Why is it that any guy you’ve ever thought you’ve liked would fall for her instead, only to dump her and in return make her ask you to not speak to them again?

Jungkook wasn’t the first so when she asked you to avoid him, it bothered you a little but you soon got over it and did as told.

You always do as told without questioning it.

“You broke up with her.”

He chuckled, shaking his head no, “I was going to but she beat me to it. I don’t know how honest you want me to be this early in the day.”

“Tell me,” you urged him on.

“I wanted to break up with her but I had this sick feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to you as much anymore or it would be awkward so I stuck it out,” Jungkook said it with a shrug, “But then she dumped me and suddenly you won’t even look at me so it was worse for me, I guess.”

Your eyebrows stitched together with confusion, “What are you saying? Why did you care if I talked to you or not? You went for Miyoung the second you met her—“

“That’s not true, actually,” Jungkook confessed, deciding if you wanted honesty he would give it even if it embarrassed him, “I wanted you.”

“And when I met her, I was obviously there at the bar trying to talk to you but she kept butting in and next thing I know, you were off talking to Yoongi and ignoring me,” Jungkook went on, “To be honest, I was kind of insecure back then, like really insecure and I was trying to get you to notice me but everytime someone would cu—“

“Jungkook, stop, I just… no, you did not like me, you dated Miyoung,” You cut him off, fidgeting in your seat anxiously, “It’s fine, it’s in the past.”

“No it’s not fine and I asked how honest you wanted me to be and you told me to tell you so I’m going to,” Jungkook said more seriously, “I was insecure, alright? I had just moved to the city and I shared class with this pretty, incredibly smart girl who would barely give me any time of day. Honestly it was kind of depressing, I was kinda depressed at the time and I needed a boost to talk to you so I asked Miyoung and… she said you were into someone else so I was pretty bummed out. Then she’s kind of just everywhere and she actually tries to talk to me so when she asks me out, I say yes but I realize I still have to see you.”

“And I liked being around you even though I probably shouldn’t have because technically I was dating her at this point and I realized that I practically screwed up whatever chance I might have had with you,” Jungkook couldn’t stop himself anymore. He was saying whatever was on his mind, barely giving you time to process any of it before continuing, “Yes, I know it’s fucked up because whenever I thought it might work and I might catch real feelings for her, you would came around and they just went out the window. So it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending and I wanted to break up with her but I was worried you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”

“She beat me to it and dumped me because she was bored and I was relieved, honestly, but then I see you on campus and you can’t even look at me anymore,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “Then life went on, I moved away, moved back, ran into you again and…”

“And what?” You asked breathlessly, lips dry and completely frozen in your seat.

He looked at you warmly, “I found you, everything just came back and I knew I didn’t want to lose you a second time. I wanted to ask you out the first night at the bar but you didn’t even want to talk to me so I tried again last night and you were so ready to blow me off when Miyoung came along. I don’t know what made you come back to the party and I don’t want you thinking I’m some sleazy guy who acts like that with just anyone. I was just… it was unexpected and I had been waiting years for something to happen between us.”

Suddenly, this didn’t feel like an easy brunch inside a warm and cozy cafe anymore. In all honesty, it felt a little suffocating now and you don’t know how to explain it, but you didn’t want to be here. So much has just been thrown at you and you don’t think you can handle it all.

What did he mean that he liked you first?

Why had Miyoung told him you were into someone else? You learned to stop sharing who you liked with her so long ago and had never once told her anything like that in school. Why couldn’t she just have asked you? Why did she ask him out after he made it known he wanted you?

You don’t care that he said yes, that really was in the past for you. Now you’re more focused on why someone who was supposed to be your best friend would act so sneaky? What did she gain from it?

Why did she lie and say he dumped her? Was it just so she can paint him as a villain and make you not want to talk to him anymore? Why would she do that?

“Y/n?” He called your name waiting for you to respond to him but you just sat there stunned, “I’m sorry, I know I was a piece of shit for dating her when I wanted you bu—Y/n.”

Your mind is filled with questions that you couldn’t answer and it was overwhelming. The cafe felt suddenly overwhelming and you just had to get out of there, so you did.

“Earth to Y/n, I don’t know how long you plan on ignoring the world but I know you’re not too busy with work to ignore your friends.”

Tacky, Taehyung was so very tacky leaving a concerning voicemail. Who left voicemails these days?

And he was being dramatic, he’s acting like you’ve fallen off the face of the Earth but that’s not true. You’ve just been holed up at either the office or your home for the past week, avoiding any call or text from anyone so you could be alone with your thoughts.

Alright it’s been over a week, almost two and maybe it is a little concerning but you’re telling yourself you’re just being dramatic.

“Y/n you better open the door before I break it down,” Taehyung’s muffled voice boomed from the other side of your front door and you begrudgingly went to let him in.

“Relax, I’m not dead,” You muttered under your breath as you let him in.

“Damn near!” Taehyung said loudly as he let himself through the door, “What is up with you? You haven’t responded to any text I was beginning to get worried.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you flopped down onto your couch, “I’ve just been tired.”

“Too tired to answer the phone?” Taehyung asked sitting down next to you, “Miyoung, I get. Ignore her all you want but me? What did I ever do to you? What’s up with you? I haven’t talked to you since the party. Did something happen?”

With a small sigh, you let your head rest against the back of the couch, “I slept with Jungkook.”

“Really?” Taehyung seemed genuinely surprised, “So fallout with Miyoung I’m assuming? Look, I personally don’t get why you try to make her happy but she’ll get over it. Did you like it? Like him?”

“Yes, I don’t know, I’m confused, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, “And I feel so dumb because this shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Alright well I need you to rewind and explain things better so my pea brain can handle it,” Taehyung made himself comfortable, “You’ve gone Ghost for over a week, I want to know why. Was it because of Jungkook? Miyoung? If you think sleeping with him makes you a bad friend the—“

“She’s a liar,” you cut in, “And it shouldn’t bother me so much because she’s my best friend but that’s why it bothers me, Tae. I’ve known her for so long, and I’ve always tried to be a good friend to her but it was never enough. So I tried harder and harder because who else would be there for me like her but… now that I’m looking back on it, I don’t think she’s ever cared about me as much as I care about her and it sucks, honestly.”

Taehyung wanted to tell you so many people cared about you but he wanted you to say whatever you needed to say first.

“You know what Jungkook said? He said Miyoung knew he apparently liked me before and still asked him out—and lied about how I felt about him,” You said, “And okay, why would I fight over a guy with my best friend but now that I’m thinking about it… it’s fucked up right? She lied that he dumped her and begged me to avoid him. You saw how she acted the other night just because he talked to me. What was that about?”

You weren’t going to go into full detail about the past because you owed Jungkook enough to not tell Taehyung about everything he said but he needed context.

“And I know it’s in the past so I should just move on but I can’t,” You admitted, “I still like him but if I… I get with him Miyoung would never let me forget that she dated him first, even if he liked me. It’s just all so confusing and overwhelming and it sucks that I’m letting it get to me like this but… it’s not fair.”

Once again, Taehyung didn’t say anything but he could tell you were feeling emotional by the way your voice began to shake.

“I like him, and not in the way I liked him before but I like this new him too, and it’s not fair that even if she lied or even if she snaps at me about shit that doesn’t matter, I will still feel guilty,” You finished.

“Y/n,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “Obviously I don’t know everything that happened back then but… I think that if you feel for him what he feels for you, it shouldn’t matter what she says. And honestly, I just… I wish you could see that there are so many people who care about you so much and you don’t have to put up with being belittled by someone who is supposed to be your best friend just because you have history. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, if it’s upsetting you now then clearly it still matters so don’t try to downplay your emotions.”

“But she’s my best friend,” your lip quivered.

“Then what am I?” He forced his lip to quiver as well.

“You’re my best friend too,” you sniffled.

Taehyung mimicked your expression, “Then as your best friend, I’m telling you to stop trying to make excuses for people who don’t treat you right—and go fix it with this guy.”

“Bu—“

“Y/n, I know you,” Taehyung sighed, “And I know that you’re not going to do anything if you think it upsets her but she doesn’t deserve a friend like you. You deserve to go be with whoever you want. I don’t care about what she says and at this point neither should you. I know that right now it’s confusing and you’re overwhelmed but if you’ve been ignoring me you’ve been ignoring him—I hope because if it’s just me that’s cold—and if the girl I had feelings for ghosted me… I’d be hurt.”

Jungkook was not hurt. He was… y'know, perfectly fine and that’s what he kept telling himself. It’s not like you made any real sign of feeling something for him too after hooking up and maybe that had just been a casual, one time thing. He can handle that, he’s grown.

Sure, he sort of spilled his damn heart out to you just for you to storm off on him and not reach out to him in days but he’s not bothered by it at all. That’s why when his two closest friends called Saturday night asking him to go clubbing… he said yes.

It was a chance to possibly let it go, forget it even, but it wasn’t easy. He was aware that he was possibly reading too into what happened the other night but could you blame him? You’re suddenly all about him and spend the night at his place where you wake up in his arms before going out to eat. It was like the perfect set up for a what if yet it went all wrong. Clearly it was his fault for being hopeful.

“So who else did you say is meeting us here?” Jungkook asked Hoseok for confirmation as he passed him a drink. The music played loudly in his eardrums that it was borderline painful and he wanted to leave more than anything but there was that stupid what if in his head.

“Jimin’s joining later on and so is Namjoon and his girl,” Hoseok said as he made sure everyone else had what they ordered, “Oh, and Y/n too, I think.”

“Y/n?” Jungkook tried clarifying. Hoseok smiled, “I know, it’s weird, Y/n seriously rarely comes out but all of a sudden she’s starting to more. I mean, lately she has, probably since around the time you got back?”

Jungkook let his friend go off to do whatever he wanted while he stood there seemingly frozen. Tonight would be the first time in days that he sees you—talks to you—and he’s not sure how to handle it. There’s nothing he can do about it either because he hasn’t confided in anyone yet but it’s painfully obvious that he’s waiting for you.

Yoongi noticed first, like he usually did, and tried talking to him, “What’s up with you? You’ve been antsy since the party, will you finally tell me where you ran off to?”

“Yeah man, don’t think we didn’t notice when you disappeared,” Jin said with a slight wink, “We just want to know with who.”

“Y/n.”

He could see you from the corner of his eye when you joined them at a table they had found. You came with Jimin by your side and a shy smile on your face. He assumed it was Hoseok who had screamed your name considering how he hogged your attention with a huge grin and Jungkook felt nervous all of a sudden.

As embarrassing as it was, Jungkook had nearly forgotten what he was asked until he looked back at Yoongi and Jin who looked at him expectantly. A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he shrugged, “Did you guys miss me too much?”

“Sneaky guy, don’t change the subject,” Jin laughed before letting Jungkook shift his attention back to you, making it painfully obvious where he was focused.

You felt a little nervous to be out tonight but after what you had talked about with Taehyung, you knew he was right. You acted strange with Jungkook after he opened up his side of things to you and it was plain wrong. Part of you isn’t even sure if he’s actually interested or not since he didn’t reach out to you this week and it made you wonder if he was really upset.

And if he was, would that mean that he didn’t want to speak to you?

“I need a drink,” you mumbled to yourself more than to the others but it made a good excuse to at least try. You looked at Jungkook for the first time since you got there and cleared your throat to awkwardly ask, “Jungkook, do you mind going with me?”

“Get me another, will ya?” Yoongi asked with a sudden wink that made Jungkook do a double take. Was he winking over the drink or him leaving with you?

He nodded his head in response and without question followed you to the bar once more. The bar was packed from all sides and Jungkook had to fight his way to the counter working as a barrier from people pushing at you. If he were to be honest, he wanted to skip the questions and get close to you again but he had to stay strong. He needed answers, right?

“Are we good?” Was the only thing he could think to ask.

You looked at him warmly, sitting down on the stool at the counter with him standing close to you, his hand itching to reach for you. Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, “Are we?”

For some reason he didn’t expect to be asked that back. It made him wonder if he thought you were. It was undeniably embarrassing to have you walk out on him like that after he thought it had been going good but did that mean he was truly upset with you?

“Yeah,” he nodded stiffly, blinking nervously and looking to the bartender who noticed them a while ago but had to attend to earlier customers first, “But uh, I guess I am just a little confused by it all. Did I do something to upset you? Was it what I said?”

“No, no, I’m sorry, it wasn’t you,” You blurted out, “It was me, I wasn’t thinking straight and I feel really bad about leaving like that.”

“Then why didn’t you just call or even text me?” Jungkook asked honestly, “I… I think that’s what bothered me the most.”

You looked down at your hands, “I'm sorry. I didn’t talk to anyone, seriously, and I did think about reaching out to you but I don’t know, I’m really bad at explaining things.”

“Well can you try? I know it was sudden but I thought it had been going good,” Jungkook said and the longer he tried getting to the bottom of this, the more annoyed he felt that you couldn’t just say it, “I think I’ve made it clear now how I feel about you and all I’m asking is for you to do the same.”

“I—yes,” you stumbled over your words, “I mean, I’m trying to be clear now but I’m doing a shit job at it. I did have a good time with you but it was honestly, really out of character for me to yknow… and then the whole Miyoung thing and I’m sorry but it was just a lot all at once. It’s definitely not fair to you that I acted that way, but I do have feelings for you.”

He let out a sigh, feeling unsure how to take it and stuck between wanting to smile in relief and wanting to be upset. You didn’t text him, nothing. How is that fair? He wanted to reach out to you but after the way you left he thought he would just make it worse if he kept bothering you. The bartender finally got to you two and he let you speak first as he tried gathering his thoughts a little more.

“But what does this mean?” Jungkook asked now, “I want you and you want me, right? So, what does this mean Y/n because right now I’m still confused by it all. If it’s because of Miyoung then—“

“No, it’s not, honestly,” You said, reaching for him, pinching the bottom of his shirt between your fingers to pull him toward you, “I don't care what she thinks anymore, I like you and I should have just said that from the beginning.”

The pull was harsh and had him looking down with his lips slightly parted in surprise, “Y/n, you’re not being fair.”

You knew it. You knew you probably ruined your chance now and coming to see him had just been a waste. You nearly let go of him when he continued, “You can’t ignore me and walk out on me and then just tell me you want me too, expecting everything to be fine.”

He had to be tough. He can’t just let it go even though you’re saying everything he wants to hear.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you said with a slight frown, “I can leave if you want me to.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, unable to help himself anymore as he closed the distance between you two. He circled an arm around you and pulled you into a hug, “Why would I want you to leave when I’ve been waiting for you to get here?”

“What?” You asked, hands finding his waist as he held you, “I thought you were mad.”

“I was,” Jungkook said, “So you don’t know how annoyed I am with myself right now. All it takes is for you to sweet talk me a bit and give me those eyes of yours for me to fold, that’s embarrassing.”

“Jungkook,” you said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I should have texted you and if you want to be mad, I get it. If you want to think it over an—“

“And what if I don’t?” He asked looking down at your pouty lips and glossy eyes, “What if I just want to let it go and be with you without any more problems? Can I do that?”

His tone was surprisingly firm and you couldn’t do anything but nod, “Okay.”

It didn’t change the fact that you still felt bad because it seemed like you were being let off the hook easily but what else could you do? Jungkook really did seem ready to move past it and that’s why you came here in the first place. You just hadn’t expected it to be so easy and it made you feel bad.

When your drinks were ready, you opened up a tab despite his protests to just put it on his and the two of you got back to the group like nothing had happened. There was still a lot that needed to be talked about before you told anyone about what happened but it’s not like they were all oblivious.

Jimin, for instance, had been keeping an eye on you two at the bar since you left and had seen the majority of your conversation but he didn’t bring it up. Instead he watched silently for your little glances in each other’s direction and shy smiles. It was obvious to Yoongi too that Jungkook was in a much better mood now than earlier and it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why.

Perhaps for the same reason you had suddenly started joining them more often, being more comfortable too.

It had been a slow start for the two of you after the night at the club. Neither one of you seemed to want to rush into things but at times there was a strong pull. Tonight was going to be your first official date but you were keeping that information to your friends until you figure out if this works or not.

Jungkook picked you up from your apartment and drove to a nice restaurant where the two of you sat for dinner. He was very attentive to you, making sure your glass was always full and all your needs met and it was a surprisingly good feeling to be taken care of this way. You’ve dated in the past but you can’t say you’ve always chosen the right ones. You had a tendency to lean toward the ones who were overly forward with you because in your mind there was no doubt they liked you.

At first it would be nice but then you would realize that it was more of a conquering feeling to them than actually wanting to be with you and you would be left heartbroken. That’s part of why you rarely put yourself out there.

Jungkook is different though, he always has been. When you first met him he was forward but aloof. You never expected him to actually like you because you couldn’t see the signs clearly and the way things turned out it just never worked. Now that he’s been back he’s almost like an entirely different person in the sense that he’s ready to go for what he wants and it’s sort of admirable.

If you had been able to do that back then maybe you would have had him sooner but there was no point in dwelling in the past. He was here now and so were you. Honestly, knowing that there's something that’s been brewing between you two for a long time made it easier to feel confident around him.

“Why are you so pretty?” Jungkook couldn’t help but ask even if his mouth was full. He was trying not to smile too as he said that.

“Oh my god,” You felt your face heat up, tempted to hide behind your hand. It took you a moment to think of a response and it was surprising for the both of you to hear you say, “Why are you?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly in hopes of not seeming too affected by your words. It didn’t work and he broke out into a grin, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Dinner was filled with small flirting here and there. It’s crazy how well you and him seemed to get along when you stopped worry about other things. He made you smile, really smile and you made him feel giddy whenever he talked to you. He wanted to spend his night with you and nobody else.

“Are we going to meet with everyone else after this?” You asked as he pulled your chair out for you and you got up from the table. After some back and forth arguing, he eventually took care of the bill despite your protests and the night felt near its finish much to your disappointment.

It was the weekend and you’ve been trying to go out with your friends more and they had asked to meet up later—but both you and Jungkook had to tell them maybe.

“Do we have to?” He asked, taking your bag in one hand and holding yours with the other, “You think they’ll get a little suspicious if we’re both gone?”

You walked with him across the restaurant toward the entrance. You weren’t paying much attention to the people you passed, “I’m sure they know.”

Your response surprised him a bit and he couldn’t help but ask, “Really? Has it been that obvious?”

“Yeah, Jimin called me out on it the other night,” you shrugged, reaching for your bag to look for chapstick while he led you to the front. You couldn’t meet his eyes because you sensed where this was going.

“What’d he say?” Jungkook asked slowing his pace for you.

You blinked nervously, distracting yourself with your lipbalm as you tried sounding casual, “He asked why we were being so sneaky at the bar.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, opening the door for you as he said, “Damn, what did you say?”

“I said because we’re together.”

You tried being slick about it and slide past him without much attention but it was useless. He stood in front of you with a smile on his face, “Oh, we are? I don’t remember you clarifying that. Can you remind me when you asked me to be your man?”

“Oh god, don’t act like that,” you whined shyly.

“I’m sorry baby, I gotta hear you say it with your own words. What’d you tell him?” Jungkook blocked your path, hands finding your waist and keeping you from running. He liked making you flustered and you had no idea how you left him with a racing heart.

You pouted, looking at him seriously, “Jungkook.”

The two of you stood outside the restaurant looking like a playful couple that maybe had one too many drinks but it was all Jungkook’s fault. He wouldn’t let it go to rest and even had the nerve to smirk as he teasingly said, “That’s not how you say ‘Boyfriend’.”

“You’re ridiculous, we talked about this,” you said, focused on his chest to hide your embarrassment.

Jungkook just grinned mischievously, “What did you tell him?”

“I said you were my boyfriend,” you mumbled into his chest.

“Your what?” He asked trying to step back and get a good look at your face, “Come on baby, don’t get shy on me now.”

You whined, “Jung—“

“Your what?” He was laughing now, not caring for whoever might pass them and stare because he felt good. Too good to be affected by a stranger’s judgement.

“My boyfriend,” you sighed with embarrassment, “You heard me the first time, goof.”

“That’s what I thought, alright, you ready to go?” He asked with a chuckled as he took your hand in his ready to walk with you to the car.

“Y/n?”

You both stopped in your step, wondering if it really was your name you had heard. You looked back toward the rest, eyes threatening to widen with surprise as you looked at the person who stood at the entrance. She was with a group of people all headed inside but when she saw you, she stopped.

“Miyoung, hey,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, your demeanor changing completely.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” She asked as her eyes trailed behind you where Jungkook was looking at you with worry and confusion. He wanted to make sure everything would be alright, knowing how Miyoung would react. He didn’t want your good night to be ruined over something petty.

“What do you mean? I’m uh, I was just having dinner,” you said stiffly, looking back at Jungkook which proved to be a mistake because it seemed to solidify his presence to her.

“With jungkook?” She asked with a snappy tone. Miyoung shooed away her friends, telling them to go in without her as she approached you.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Her brow arched with amusement, clearly ticked off and in disbelief by what she saw before her. Like usual, the situation seemed much worse than it really was.

It was time for you to be up front. What’s the point in putting yourself out there and letting yourself open up to him if you wouldn’t have the courage to make it known? You swallowed dryly, “Because we’re… dating.”

Jungkook had stepped back from the situation, not wanting to worsen it so he stood off by a light post not too far for a smoke break. He tried distracting himself with lighting his cigarette but he couldn’t help but freeze up when you said that. It brought a shy smile to his face as he waited for you to finish.

“No, you’re not,” Miyoung scoffed looking back at Jungkook as if betrayed by him too. You blinked with confusion, what did she mean you’re not? Did she expect you to be joking or back down? “We are.”

Miyoung stood in front of you now, slightly taller, “Y/n, you’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re saying you’re dating my ex boyfriend? What kind of friend are you?”

This time it was you who scoffed lightly, looking away from her to try and process what you would say but you had spent too much time already trying to think it over, “The thing is, um, I’ve been kind of wondering the same about you.”

“Me?” She looked down at you genuinely taken back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to gather the courage to just say it. You could feel Jungkook around, listening but giving you space and it was like a push start for you to say what was really on your mind, “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m the only one who puts effort into being friends and I don’t see the point in always fighting. We’re not together, we don’t have to be friends if it always has to be some sort of argument. It’s getting tiring at this point and I think maybe it’s best we just distance ourselves from each other.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m like the only person who really cares about you, Y/n. Don’t act stupid.”

Although that made Jungkook want to intervene and tell her how very wrong she was, he didn’t. He didn’t want to speak for you. He knew you could speak for yourself and he should let you, even if he was itching to cut in.

“No, I don’t think you are. I know you think you are so you always tell me you are, but you’re not. People like me for me and not just because I’m friends with you,” you said coldly and your tone was definitive it left her speechless. It had to be one of the first times you were ever remotely close to snappy with her and she didn’t expect it.

“I know it’s hard for you to think of me as my own person but I don’t have to do what you want,” You said, “And I think you only boss me around and act sneaky behind my back because you’re threatened by me.”

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. What you said left her rendered quiet. You waited too, waited to see if she would tell you to stand down but she didn’t and you didn’t give her time too, “ But I think I should go, I don’t want to bother your dinner any longer—and uh, maybe we just shouldn’t contact each other anymore.”

Jungkook had forgotten about his smoke break, jaw nearly to the floor at how confident you sounded. It was obvious you had never spoken to Miyoung that way but she couldn’t even deny what you said. You did it so casually and like you couldn’t care less which made you seem mature compared to Miyoung’s tantrums.

“Why was that kind of hot?” Jungkook asked as you finally reached him under the light post. Miyoung had stormed off with an evil glare that he ignored telling you how “You’re done”.

He looked down at you with hazed eyes, amazed and enamored. You scrunch your face curiously, “What was?”

“You, right now,” He chuckled, reaching for your hand in his, “Kind of scary too. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“You’re exaggerating,” you tried to laugh it off, “I wasn’t mean, was I?”

It was so dumb of you to still be worried about it but you couldn’t help it.

“No, you were calm and casual but that was so scary,” Jungkook gasped dramatically, “Because I know you were mad at her—… it was mean but only a little and so very very hot, and you’re doing all this in that dress…”

Without meaning to be, Jungkook was sort of like your hype man. You were worried about being too harsh, you still are, but he made you feel better about it. Part of you will never not feel in the wrong for being with Jungkook but you’ve gotten the rest off your chest and it felt good. Maybe you were a bit mean or maybe you weren’t, you could never be entirely sure but Jungkook seemed to be on your side no matter what.

“You like my dress?” You asked him with a teasing smile as he held the car door open for you.

“I really do,” he played with his lip ring, looking down at you.

“Then take it off me.”

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whispered to himself as he looked around the parking lot, “Here?”

You broke out into a laugh as you sat down. Your words got to him easier than you thought and he sighed, “You can’t say that shit to me, Y/n. I’ll actually do it.”

“Let’s go back to my place and see if you can keep your word then,” you told him, watching him close the door with a tense jaw just thinking about it.

You can’t do this to him. You can’t be shy and cute one second and then act like that. You can’t. That’s not fair to him. How is he supposed to not be affected when you say things that get his heart racing while looking so cute? Was this what it would be like dating you? Just constantly caught by surprise?

He did like the way you stood up for yourself. He liked that you spoke your mind more freely than before and he takes joy in hearing you flirt back. In the beginning it felt like he was the one always trying to get you to talk to him or notice him and now you’re saying things that make his head dizzy.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, yknow?” Jungkook asked after the painfully long car ride back to your apartment. He was removing his coat as you sat on the edge of your bed to undo your shoes.

You let out an amused laugh, “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you act all shy and innocent and then you say shit that…” Jungkook let out a groan, “I can’t explain it, you just drive me crazy.”

“In a good way or bad way?” You asked, following him with your eyes as he closed the space between you two until he was at the end of the bed standing in front of you.

“A good way,” he said softly, “I’m finding more sides of you I’ve never seen.”

“And you like it?” You asked shyly, feeling his hands curl around your jaw.

“I do, a lot,” he confessed brushing his lips against yours, “I don't know what I would’ve done if I lost my chance with you again.”

::.

NO PART TWO

oml yall this took me forever to come up with 😭 I went through at least six other ideas before deciding on this one and I can’t tell how happy I am with it yet but I tried my hardest not the disappoint 🥹 I miss being more active and taking to you all but life has been so busy lately

please let me know how you feel and I promise I’ll try to be more active 🫶🏽

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook one shot #jungkook oneshot #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook fiction #jungkook imagine #bts smut #lost & found #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic recs

[autisticsonic]

My take on a Sonadow fankid! She actually existed for a while now, but the trend gave me motivation to finally draw her!

Most sonadow fankids are purplish and tube-grown, so I decided to make her neither!

Background for the story under cut, in case it gets long!

So in this AU, stories from the more recent games happen when Sonic and Shadow are at most around 20 years old. Back then Sonic was rambunctious and reckless as we know him to be, and Shadow was a depressed, traumatized emo kid. While at first they were rivals as depicted in the games.

Over the years tho, just like their friends, the two matured. They started getting along a lot more, and became official friends, which eventually lead to dating. They both were afraid of getting serious though, so they took things slow and casual. Due to some of their unresolved issues, they couldn't get any closer. But not for much longer.

Some of it has been brought on by a Particular Event, and some of it due to restructuring how they go about saving the world, but things changed. As Forces has shown, putting so much responsibility on One Guy isn't wise. Sonic felt so quilty for failing, but it never should've been his job alone, so they created an organization, to share the load more evenly!

The org became global, with local groups of heroes being recruited all around, meaning that now the characters we know and love now had more time to take care of their personal lives.

While for some the change hasn't been much, Sonic, and to a lesser extent, Shadow, struggled quite a lot. Many of things happened in between, but eventually both of them grew to quite enjoy the domestic life.

They moved in together, and started taking things to the next level, now that both have done some healing and therapy. They found that they get along quite great. After a bit longer, they decided to start a family :)

Shadow came up with the name. He wanted to honor his sister's memory, but Mar-Mar was also a symbol of all his progress. He did go to therapy to make sure that he can handle them sharing a name, to see if it's a good idea, and well, it was!

She's now 4 and very loved, and her dads love each other very much as well. For a certain Sonic though, things won't go so great.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonadow #sonadow fankid #sonic oc #sth #sonic design #shadow the hedgehog #sonic #shadow #sonic au #my art #the art is kinda shitty bc i didnt wanna miss the train #feel free to ask any questions if ur curious abt any details this one is quite thought out #also they're married now :) they used matching earrings instead of wedding bands bc neither likes em #also i couldnt give less of a fuck about the shoes i Really wasnt in the mood so i halfassed it #gave up on shadow's completely ill design him new ones later

[after-witch]

Check Out Time is Eleven [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Title: Check Out Time is 11 [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Synopsis: You're invited to a hotel for a warm meal and a place to sleep by a mysterious stranger. Soulmate AU.

Word count: 7100ish

notes: yandere, kidnapping, mentions of drugging, a really useless and non-philosophical reference to My Dinner with Andre

The red thread on his finger loses slack for the very first time in his life, and for the smallest of moments, Chrollo Lucilfer forgets himself. His steps falter, expensive, stolen shoes nearly scuffing on the sidewalk, and a startled breath quivers through his chest. His mouth gapes, ever so slightly. 

In surprise.

In trepidation. 

In realization.

The red thread was, had always been, attached to you. His soulmate. Whoever you were. The gentle tugging of the thread meant that after years of fruitless searching, you were finally somewhere nearby, close enough to reach. Probably, given the tautness of the thread, even within walking distance. 

How lucky for him. 

How unfortunate for you. 

You were finally discovered. You were finally within his grasp, fingers itching, warm satisfaction blooming through his skin. How often had he ruminated over the fact that you had yet to belong to him? How often had he wondered what you would look like, how you would feel under his touch? And what you might do to him when he had you in person? Would he find himself changed, however slightly, as the others in the Troupe had been? Or would he mold you with his own presence, looming over you like a shadow?

The mere thought of you is enough to get his heart racing, bring a bead of sweat to his neck. It was so unlike him, and wasn’t that a thrill? 

And then, just like that, the moment is over. He recollects himself and his mouth closes and his mind whirs back into focused gear. 

He needed to find you, first thing. The rest of the logistics could come later. 

His eyes track the movements of the thread, and without missing a beat, he turns on his heels to follow the direction of the movement. It was possible--no, highly probable--that you were close enough to reach on foot. Within the city, certainly, and he didn’t mind the exercise. 

As he continues to walk, the cold gleam of the business district turning into rows of glitzy restaurants and downtown attractions, he’s glad that you weren’t too close. It gives him more time to think about what he wants to do with you. 

The Troupe members that had already found their soulmates--and Chrollo feels a surge of pride in his chest, counting himself among them now, fulfilled in that goal--had taken on different approaches. 

Some merely kidnapped their soulmates and kept them in secure locations. Simple, effective in terms of security, but that would ensure it would take him a long time to win you over. And he knows that he will do just that, eventually, no matter how he decides to keep you. Others took their time, attempting to strike up something of an ordinary relationship before revealing their knowledge of the red thread, and persuading their soul mates to come with them for safety (and romance)’s sake. Surely the more appealing of the two options, but it did come with the downside of expended time and energy. 

What he would do with you depended on so many factors. Did you live in some stationary location, or were you prone to travel? What did you do for a living? Were you already in a relationship, some inferior partnership with someone who could never appreciate you the way that he could, as your only soulmate? 

All of these questions circle heavily in his mind as he walks, following the thread that was becoming tighter and tighter between the pair of you. The ritzy downtown buildings were now gone, replaced by rows of old buildings that had seen better days. In place of fine dining were small cafes and diners that practically exuded grease, laundromats with blinking signs, and the occasional busted out window. The scores of people walking, gabbing, waving around fancy handbags were replaced by only the occasional person walking with clear destinations in mind, eyes in front. 

As the thread becomes even tighter, it leads him down an alley that most people would have surely avoided. But he doesn’t worry about the glances of the people leaning up against heavy exit doors, or the people crouching on the ground with needles against their arms. He thinks about you. Will he find you here, perhaps, curled up in the arms of a drug dealer pumping you full of toxic chemicals that flushed you with endorphins and heat? Or you might be on the other side of the needle, pocketing cash and going on your merry way? 

But, no. Perhaps not. Instead of leading him further into the den of seedy dealings, the thread brings him away, feet crunching on broken bottles, towards some type of fenced-in parking lot. Or it had been a parking lot, once

From a short distance through the metal fence, he can see burning barrels, tents, carts. The smells of cooking grills waft over, greasy foods, easy to cook outdoors. It wasn’t a new sight, in this city or otherwise. Chrollo had seen worse. Had lived worse.

And then, there--at the end of the red thread that weaved in between one of the fence’s metal honeycombs: you.

He sees you for the first time and knows, with a burning intensity that threatens to knock him over, that he needs you. He needs you now. He needs you always. You have something that he lacks and perhaps possessing you will give it to him. 

Is this what the others felt, when they first saw their soulmates? Or is it something unique to you and him? Some unfathomable bond that has shaken him to his core? Not for long, of course, never for long. He regains his senses within moments and catalogs the feeling away for later analysis. 

It’s you that he focuses on, now.  And the fact he will have you, as soon as he decides on the where, when, and how. He wouldn’t be the leader of the Phantom Troupe if he wasn’t skilled at taking what he wanted. 

Today what he wants is not a gallery of paintings or a rare gruesome artifact, but a person. 

You.

What to make of you? 

You’re standing in front of one of the burning barrels, rubbing your hands together. They look red and chapped, even from his vintage point. Behind you is a shopping cart filled with odds and ends. On the side nearest the fire, you had clearly laid out clothes over the edge of the cart--wet ones, from rain or maybe you’d had the opportunity to wash them. Your current ensemble is a simple hodgepodge. Clearly, you wore whatever was cleanest, whatever was warmest, whatever you could find. 

He remembers such a living. 

You appear to be on the outskirts, avoiding the groups scattered around the encampment. No one approaches you and you don’t approach them. A loner… by choice, or not? You wouldn’t be alone for long, if it wasn’t by choice, and in time you might be grateful for it. If it was by choice, well, there were ways to tame feral cats. 

It doesn’t take much analysis to decide what to do with you, to decide how best to approach things. He’s glad that he wore something casual today. Just some simple slacks and a nice sweater. If he was overdressed, it might be more difficult. Not that he couldn’t manage it, but he enjoys advantages when he can get them. 

With no hesitation, he walks through one of the ragged gaps in the metal fence and begins to approach you. 

Your head jerks towards him the moment that his steps become even remotely close. He doesn’t mind. It’s only natural, especially for someone who has been living the way you surely have. There’s a tugging somewhere inside him--memory of himself and connection with you.

He smiles, not broadly, but in a way meant to disarm. 

“Hello,” he says, stopping a few feet away from you. 

You stiffen. 

“I’m Chrollo,” he continues. His voice is undisturbed and calm. As if he was meeting you on a sunny afternoon in the park while you were both buying ice cream from the same cart. That might have been a more charming meeting, he muses, but this one can work to his advantage just as easily. “Won’t you tell me your name?”

You snatch your hands back from the barrel and step, refusing to turn your back to him, behind your cart.

“None of your business,” you say. 

And oh, he thinks, it would be heaven if he could somehow bottle the first time he hears your voice and listen to it on demand. But he supposes, he has the rest of his life--and yours--to hear you speak.

“That’s all right.”  He gestures towards you, the cart, your life. “I see you are in need.” You frown at him, but he continues. “How would you like to go somewhere warm?”

Your lip pulls back in a sneer and you move yourself on the other side of the cart.

“I don’t do that. Fuck off.”

Ah. You thought he wanted you to--well. It wouldn’t be the first time people took advantage of others in less fortunate situations. There had been enough of that in Meteor City. 

“No, nothing like that,” he says, voice going soft. “I should have clarified. I’m a… missionary of sorts. I look for people in need and offer what help I can give. I’d like to buy you a hotel room for the week.” He notices your wary expression. “Or even the day, if that would be more comfortable for you. Somewhere you can get some safe sleep, a shower, something to eat. I wouldn’t even be there.” 

He recognizes the look on your face all too well. Wariness. Suspicion. The face of someone who knows that people are tricky and greedy and cruel. That people will take things that they haven’t earned. Oh, yes-- he knows all of that so well, from both sides.

And he also knows how to get your guard to drop enough for him to accomplish his goal. Sure, mistrust is essential in an environment like this. But mistrust can always be overpowered when there’s something essential within reach. Like comfort. Or food. A warm place to stay, even if it’s just for a few hours. A private bathroom, a toilet, a tub.

“I don’t know,” you say, finally, having given him the appropriate stare down.

He nods his head.

“I understand. I would feel wary myself, in your position. It’s perfectly reasonable.” It is more than reasonable, he thinks, but you don’t need to know that. You just need to believe that coming with him will be worth your while, worth ignoring what he’s sure is a growing pit in your stomach. 

“What I would like to do is accompany you to a hotel where I often book rooms for those in need. It’s a private room, of course. And I will pay for your meals.” He sees the gears turning in your mind at the promise of a bed. The promise of food. “I have my own room in the hotel, but it’s on a different floor, and I won’t have to see you at all,” he adds, and this is how he will make you step over that cautionary line. “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everything is pre-paid on my card, of course, and you’re free to order whatever you’d like. What do you say?”

He lets his words hang in the air, wafting like smoke from the nearby barrels. 

You wet your lips. You glance around at the people around you. A few of them have taken notice of Chrollo, perhaps as a mark, perhaps more; but he pays them no mind. He could kill them in a fraction of a second and whisk you out of here just as easily, if he needs to… But he hopes it will not come to that. 

“All right,” you say suddenly, softly. “If… you’re just going to give me a room and feed me, then all right.”

Chrollo smiles. It is, he thinks, perhaps close to a genuine one.

“Wonderful. Follow me, if you please.”

--

The hotel is expensive, but thankfully not terribly ostentatious. Chrollo would hate to put you off by throwing you into some gilded lion’s den. But the hotel is more reserved, classy. Comfort and luxury without any of the ridiculous trappings that often come with them. 

Chrollo does bring you with him to the front desk, if only to reduce the chances that the security will kick you out for looking out of place. And you do look out of place, but perhaps that’s for the better. It will make you appreciate what he’s going to do for you more, won’t it? 

You’re quiet all the while, but that’s to be expected. You only hold tight to your backpack, where everything you hold dear has been crammed, and let him do the talking. A reservation is easily made under the guise that only you are to know the room number--you certainly don’t need to know that he’ll swing back and reserve the connected room next door--and the key is given without fanfare from the polite desk clerk who gives you curious glances but nothing more. 

Chrollo walks you to the elevator, ever the gentleman, and hands you the key. You stare at it. The uncertain expression on your face is unbelievably precious, he thinks. He hopes he can see more of it before it inevitably morphs into shock and anger and fear. 

“Would you like some new clothing?” Chrollo asks, after he pushes the button on the elevator for you. “I can have some sent up from the hotel’s boutique. I’ll tell the front desk, so they can give the concierge the room number. Ah, and I’ll need to know your size, if you’re willing to give it.” 

“You want to buy me clothes?”

You almost splutter out the words, and he has to restrain himself from kissing you right then and there. You are terribly cute, and there’s a slight disturbing tinge to how much he finds everything about you enticing so quickly. The way you furrow your eyebrows at his question. The slight look of embarrassment, the twitch of your lips. 

He needs you so much, and he’s only known you for a few moments.

You tell him your size, then glance at him before staring at the glossy metallic doors. “Um, I need something warm. No useless stuff.” Your head gestures back towards the hotel lobby, where a few women are walking on the arm of male companions, dressed in sleeveless dresses and likely heading for the restaurant. 

“Of course.” Chrollo does not tell you that he can envision you wearing all sorts of useless things in the future his mind is creating, brick by brick. You would look heavenly in something strapless, something slinky. Something that hangs off your shoulders. He would drape a fine wrap over them, were you behaving enough to go out with him--no one else but him will be privy to such delicacies. 

For now, though, he resolves to send you the clothes he knows you want. Things will be a little more seamless if your guard isn’t entirely raised. 

The elevator doors open.

Chrollo steps aside, and gestures for you to enter. 

“This is where I take my leave. I will let the restaurant host know your name, and you can order whatever you’d like. It’s on my card. Please, don’t feel the need to hold back.”

You take a step inside the elevator and ah, there it is. Just the slightest hesitation. The slightest jerk of your head as you look back at him. Do you feel bad, leaving him in a lurch when he’s giving you charity? Do you feel beholden to him in some way?

“I guess it’s okay if we share a meal. You’re paying for it, anyway. It’d be awkward otherwise.” You stare down at the elevator carpet as you say the words, and Chrollo realizes that he’s perhaps misjudged the gesture. Your sense of shame, maybe, outweighs your desire to be rid of him and his potential alternative motives for assisting you.

That might come in handy.

He nods, as you turn around and make brief eye contact with him. 

“Well, then. How about we meet here in 5 hours for dinner? I can send something dressy to your room, if you’d like.” 

You shrug your shoulders as the doors close, which is as good as assent in his view. The string on his finger rises with the elevator, but now there is no fear that he’ll lose you. The string, something which had been maddening in its slackness for so long, is now something of a treasure itself. A little leash, keeping you to him, wherever you go.

Which, for now, is your hotel room--meaning he needs to get moving. He won’t pick anything too flashy out from the boutique; something modest, something simple. There are delicate steps to take to avoid making you feel ashamed without offending your sense of dignity all in one go.

Thankfully--for you and himself--he’s attuned to such needs. 

5 hours. That would give you enough time to take a shower or bath, to change into the fresh clothing he’ll send up, to take a nap. Perhaps you’ll stare out the hotel window at the view or curl up in the bed, rolling on the fresh sheets. 

Five hours would give you time to freshen up and relax, yes. And it would give him enough time to get hold of Shalnark and procure anything he needs to make your removal from the hotel as smooth as possible.

--

The shower is running again. He doesn’t blame you. He remembers days where a hot shower was a luxury beyond imagining. 

He keeps his side pressed against the door connecting your rooms--not that you know he is on the other side with a key to yours, of course--and holds back a contended sigh as he watches the red string on his finger twirl and shift with your every movement. 

What are you thinking about? He wonders. Are you thinking about how long it’s been since you had a hot shower? Are you thinking about slipping the shampoo bottles into your backpack?

Perhaps more inviting… are you thinking about him?

He knows what’s on his mind, and has been for the last few hours now. You. 

What were you like, deep down, underneath your layers and justifiably guarded stance? Maybe you liked to read, maybe you once had a dream of being a dancer before life went to hell, maybe you were shy, maybe you liked to get drunk and sing your favorite songs at full volume. 

What would  you be like, once you were fully his? 

What do you look like, underneath all of your clothing? What has nature and nurture shown fit to bestow upon you, your skin, all those secret places you keep hidden? 

The thread bobbles again. Are you stepping out of the shower soon, or still scrubbing yourself? You’re so vulnerable, naked and unawares, just a few feet away from him. The water running is a delicious sound to his ears, because he knows that you’re underneath it. 

He imagines what you might look like naked. He imagines what sounds you might make, underneath him, gasping and--

Oh, but he’s getting ahead of himself. He smiles and shakes his head at the rush. He should slow down, yes. Slow down and savor it all.

He clenches both of his hands. In one is the duplicate key, in the other is a syringe. Both go into opposite pockets, awaiting their respective time to shine.

--

The dress that arrives at your door with a prim knock from a porter is not quite what you expected--which is a relief. You expected the stranger to send up something ridiculous. Something slinky and glittering, maybe with only a half shoulder. 

But instead it’s a simple dress with a flared skirt, all made from dark blue fabric. The sleeves are elbow length, the neckline isn’t too low, and there’s a matching black belt to go with it. He’s even sent up a pair of nylons, which are something you haven’t worn since you were a little kid, desperately trying to mimic your mother’s fancy outfits. 

He also--and maybe this is overkill--sent up a few pairs of shoes in different sizes, along with a transcribed note instructing you to call the front desk if none of them fit, or simply wear your own shoes if you are uncomfortable with it. 

This stranger--Chrollo--is awfully accommodating. And kind. And considerate. 

Which is exactly why, when the dress is on and your nylon-clad feet are resting in the shoes easiest to run in, you tuck your switchblade into one of the dress pockets for safekeeping. 

Maybe he is just kind. Or he’s one of those people that makes themselves feel better by occasionally being charitable; he’s harboring some sort of guilt that can be alleviated, however temporarily, by buying a person a sandwich or two. 

But maybe he’s not. You’ve known people who have been hurt or killed or sometimes worse by so-called charitable people. People that lure you in with showers and hotels, meals and clothing. People that slit your throat before or after they have their way with you.

Life was dark and life was shit, and you weren’t born yesterday. If this stranger had any nefarious intentions, you certainly weren’t going to walk into them like a bleating lamb. 

And yet, and yet… some part of you wanted to believe he had good intentions. You’re not sure why, exactly. You weren’t the type to look on the bright side or always see the good in people--or at least,  you hadn’t been that way since childhood. Yet something about this Chrollo made you hope that he was a good person. That you’d have a nice conversation and he wouldn’t do anything more than give you a nice afternoon and a place to sleep comfortably for a bit. 

It was an almost primal feeling, which made it all the more stranger. Your gut feelings usually told you something like: this place is dangerous, this guy’s probably got a gun, that alley’s too notorious to use as a shortcut. 

Your gut didn’t give you silly notions, like wanting to trust someone, hoping they would talk to you during dinner, wondering if they’d be pleasant to be around for longer. 

--

At least, not before today.

“And the lady will have the cailles aux raisins.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Quail,” Chrollo says, allowing the waiter to take the leather-bound menu from his hands. As if your issue was with the choice of food--okay, you didn’t know what it meant, but still--and not that he ordered for you. “Stuffed with shallots, grapes, liver, and ah, I believe, some cognac, if I’m not mistaken.”

“That’s correct, sir,” the waiter says, not giving you a second glance--you didn’t even get a menu, which irked you, but considering you had nothing to pay with and perhaps the hotel staff knew it, it was a practical snub.

Your lips twist into a frown, although you suppose you can’t complain. The dish does sound good.  Not that you’ve ever had quail. But it can’t be that different from chicken. Or duck. You had duck, once, as a kid. Your mother brought you to a hotel just like this for a Mother’s Day brunch and you sat at a table with an embroidered cloth and wore a pair of your mother’s white gloves, so that you would look extra fancy.

“I apologize,” Chrollo tells you. “I should have asked your preference first.” The strangest part is how sincere he sounds, like he really didn’t want to offend you. Like he actually might be interested in what you want to eat. Part of you can appreciate that, and part of you wants to finger the handle of your knife inside your pocket.

“It’s fine.” You shrug it all off. Because you can, and you choose to--but also because you’re famished and the smells wafting from the other tables is enough to make your stomach growl. “People usually don’t order things like this for me, anyway. If they do give me anything.”

Chrollo tilts his head slightly, looking at you like a particularly interesting painting on a wall. “No?” 

You smile thinly. “Nope. I’m lucky if I get someone’s leftover fries from a fast food shop.” 

“What a shame.” He places both hands on the table, clasping his fingers together. His gaze bores into yours. You look away, briefly, but find yourself wanting to look back. How odd. “I’m sure,” he begins, talking slowly, measuring out his words, “that must be demoralizing--to be treated as lesser-than.”

You can’t help the snort that comes out your nose, or the quick words that follow. “Yeah? And what would you know about that?” Your eyes rake over his outfit, your mind whirls over how much money he’s spent on you alone, as if it was nothing. A drop in the bucket. Some rich man playing with his money. Or daddy’s money, depending on the circumstance.

Of course, you expect him to get offended. You expect him to call you ungrateful and cancel the order and ship you out of here like yesterday’s trash. It wouldn’t be the first time someone has gotten angry that you didn’t play into their savior fantasies. Your muscles even prep to stand, your face goes stony, ready to block the anger that he’ll throw your way.

Only... none of that happens.

His face looks--it’s hard to describe, really. It’s almost like it glitches for a moment, and you see something you weren’t meant to see. You’re not even sure if he realizes it. And then his expression gets so remote and so quiet. He looks away from you for perhaps the first time, looking instead, at his hands.

“I know a lot about that, actually.”

It’s not offense in his expression but… sympathy? No, that’s not it either. You know “sympathy face” like the back of your hand, for all the good it does you. 

It’s empathy. Trace, but there. A shared experience between you. Maybe that’s why you’ve felt inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt all day. Why you went with him in the first place, hunger pangs aside. 

“So you’ve been…” You begin, but is there a need to finish. He’s been homeless, or something like it. Downtrodden. On the bottom. 

He nods.

“Sorry.” The word comes out blurted but soft. Well, I’m an asshole, you think. 

He smiles at you, a soft, thin thing--almost like a gloss that covers up his previous expression. “No, don’t be. You had no way of knowing, dear.” 

Dear.

The word hangs between you silently, as if it’s being dangled on some sort of invisible string. He opens his mouth slightly--maybe to apologize--but shuts it when you don’t say anything. Instead, he simply blinks, and watches you.

Perhaps a minute ago you might have bristled at the nickname, might have sought to cut it right down, in fact. But for now, you brush it aside. He’s being nice--he knows what you’re going through. And sure, there’s some sort of guilt relief in his actions, but it’s not coming from the place of a rich man making himself feel better. It’s coming, you think, from a place of not just knowing where you’ve been but having been there himself. 

Before either of you can speak, the waiter returns with your appetizer and despite the guilt in your gut, your hunger practically sings at the sight of the plate of bread and butter. It’s fancy bread, already cut, gleaming with what smells like garlic butter spread over the top. 

The flavored butter is shaped like a rose and it’s only after you childishly dip your bread right into it and take a loud, chewy bite of the delicious goodness that you realize you’ve committed a faux-pas. There’s a tiny butter knife on the plate, obviously meant to delicately smear the butter onto your bread. And here you are, gnawing on the piece like some sort of medieval peasant during a bad harvest. 

A pang of shame tingles over you. It’s a silly kind of shame--inconsequential, really. Who cares how you eat bread at some hotel you’ll never step foot in again in your life? But it lingers terribly. Until Chrollo picks up a piece of brand and dips it right into the butter, too, taking a chewy bite with far less graciousness than you imagined with his sophisticated appearance.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” He asks, not even bothering to cover his mouth.

You smile. You almost-snort. And the shame dissipates like ice crystals on a sunny day, as you and Chrollo both finish off the appetizer. He lets you eat more without saying a word, which you appreciate.

There’s a lot to appreciate about him, really. He’s been kind. He hasn’t been terribly condescending, dinner order notwithstanding. And he seems to know how to approach you with actual empathy and not just the sticky, coddling sympathy that most people do.

And you won’t lie--he is nice to look at. He even smells nice, but with the amount of money he had to spend on the clothing he sent up to your room, he can likely afford to buy expensive cologne.

If he notices you staring, he says nothing. Instead, he half-closes his eyes and appears to be deep in thought. Over… you? Or dinner? 

He hums a bit under his breath, and you realize: it’s the music. It’s a delicate song being played by a small group of musicians set up on a stage in the corner. It’s familiar… your brain strives to catch up with your ears. 

“You like this song?” You ask, because the silence has stretched too long, and the bread is now gone.

Chrollo opens his eyes and regards you with a sober smile. “Yes.” He pauses, then. “It’s--”

“Elgar's Chanson de matin,” you blurt, before he can. “I know it.”

His eyes widen, just a tad. Enough to show that he’s curious. A funny bit of pride thrums through you. It can be retribution for the quail earlier, you decide.

“You’re familiar with his work?”

You feel your cheeks heat up, even though you don’t get the sense that he asked to be cruel. He seems actually interested. Like he wants to know you. It’s nice, and confusing, and a little startling. 

You nod, wishing there was more bread to break up the conversation. “What, you think someone like me can’t be interested in classical music?

“Of course not.” He answers swiftly, resolutely.

 He reaches his hand towards yours and grasps it before you can think to pull away. It seems silly to yank your hand out of his, so you don’t. Even if the way he looks down at your interlocked fingers makes goosebumps dance up your arm. 

His expression is so strange. He looks… lonely. And desperate. And relieved. But why? 

Both of your gazes meet for one electric moment and for that moment, you feel like he sees you. And you see him. Not as clearly. But you see something inside him that is not quite on the surface. Something which does make you pull away, but not with distaste. You withdraw your hand from his slowly, like he’s a wild animal that you don’t want to startle.

The waiter, impeccable timing as ever, arrives with the main courses just as your hand makes its way into your lap. 

And just like that, the spell is broken. Ripples of water dash whatever it was between you, and he’s speaking charmingly to the waiter, who appears swiftly again with a glass of champagne for each of you. You weren’t intending to drink, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt. It could calm your nerves.

Neither of you talk much for the rest of dinner. It’s not tense, exactly, but you can tell there’s something in the air. Questions unspoken, maybe, or just an awkwardness between two strangers who seem to both understand and misunderstand each other in equal measure.

The hotel’s restaurant begins to thin out after your main courses are taken away. A dessert menu is brought, and Chrollo orders a simple slice of cake for both of you. 

Real vanilla bean frosting is on your lips when you ask your question. Quiet, but with most of the other guests gone, he has no trouble hearing it.

“So you were… homeless, before?”

You’re not sure why you need to know this. To confirm that he’s not some rich boy playing with his father’s money? To see how much he can really understand you? Maybe the champagne went to your head. You don’t normally drink, it wouldn’t be impossible.

His fork stalls as the question comes out. He glances up at you and there’s nothing offended or hurt in his eyes. He seems to weigh his answer before he gives it. It doesn’t really surprise you; he could be just as mistrustful of you as you are of him, couldn’t he?

“Something like that.” He rests his fork on his plate. “I suppose you are trying to decide just how much I can sympathize with your… situation.”

Heat floods your cheeks, and you’re grateful the water brought another glass of champagne that you can sip from to loosen the tightness in your chest.

If he notices your flushed countenance, he doesn’t remark on it. You like him better for it. He continues speaking, looking at you with a measured expression. Like before, his words come slowly and carefully, given to you with something akin to grace.

“Our situations were not exactly similar. I don’t find it terribly useful to compare them. Better in some ways, worse in others. Like anything.”

“Better?” You dab at your mouth with a napkin. 

“Ah.” He seems to weigh his next words with even more scrutiny before he decides on them. “I had something you didn’t, which surely benefited me.”

“Which was?”

There’s something wistful in his voice now. It makes you lean forward over the table. With most of the other guests gone, it feels strange to talk so openly about clearly delicate matters. Chrollo mimics your lean, and while he doesn’t take your hands across the table into his, you get the feeling he’d like to, if you let him.

“Companionship,” he says simply. The word settles in the air like a brick that seems to land right on your chest. You blink and feel the beginnings of tears in your eyes. You really did have too much champagne, and this is all getting to be a lot. You start to lean backward when he speaks again.

“Aren’t you lonely?”

“No,” you lie. The shock of the question does make you lean back fully. Then, to be spiteful. “Are you?”

He doesn’t answer. He only looks down at his hands and the empty spot where yours used to be, and then back at you. 

Nothing more is said on the matter. He pays for the meal and leaves a nice fat tip for the waiter--who has, you think, been lurking nearby either to witness your drama or to make sure no one swipes his tip from the table--before escorting you back to the elevators.

Shame slams back into you while you’re standing in front of the elevator doors.

“I’m sorry.” Sure, he asked it first, but fuck--you hate being rude. If you were rude. It was hard to tell how Chrollo felt about anything. The champagne making your head fuzzy doesn’t help. Not at all.  

He tilts his head a little. “What for?”

Your eyebrows furrow together. “You know, for asking… for being…” You wave your hands around a little. It’s too hard to put into words. You’re tired, you feel out of sorts, and you’re tipsy bordering on drunk. You can give yourself some forgiveness in a lack of coherency in this matter, at least.

Chrollo regards you for a moment before he shakes his head, scoffing a little as he smiles.

“For being yourself? Or at least showing some small part of it to me? I don’t mind.” He holds out his arm and you, unsteady champagne fuzz in your head, take it. “I’ll escort you to your room, if that’s all right. I don’t feel comfortable letting you go there alone.”

You should tell him that you’ll be fine. You should. But the champagne in your brain and the way you feel drawn to him--however slightly--makes “should” fly out the window. So you nod and let him lead you into the elevator, where the ride up makes you dizzy enough that Chrollo has to steady you carefully, and you mumble out another apology. 

He only chuckles a little and helps you walk out of the elevator without stumbling over the threshold. Your room is just down the hall and he keeps a steady grip on you the whole way, even though you’ve told yourself that you won’t stumble anymore. It feels weird, to have someone so close to you; to smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his skin.

It feels weird, yes, but giddy too. He is handsome. And he did buy you dinner. And clothes. And he’s not as shitty as you thought he might be at first. The way he ate the bread in solidarity with you earlier--you can’t forget that, can you? It was… cute, even. If someone like Chrollo could be called cute.

Is it the champagne, the newness of this stranger-but-not-entirely, the rich disarmament that comes with a full stomach and freshly washed face? All of the above? Whatever it is, it’s got you thinking too much about Chrollo as he gently takes the key from your hand and opens your hotel room door.

A gentleman, he only sees you just inside before taking his leave, promising to meet you for breakfast in the morning--if you’d like.

You would like, you tell him, and the door shuts and locks swiftly afterwards. Chrollo’s cologne lingers in the air, or maybe it rubbed off on you from all the steadying he had to do. 

The hotel room is just as you left it. Clean and pristine, smelling vaguely of lemon. Your duffel bags and personal belongings are shoved in the corner. Maybe you’ll try to read one of your books tonight, before you sleep? It would be the first time you read on an actual bed in ages. Maybe you could even call for room service? A little midnight snack? It’s not like Chrollo would mind, or at least, he probably wouldn’t. It’d be something small anyway, nothing wild. 

Unless you wanted a bubbly nightcap. 

Full of ideas, you take your giddy champagne self back to the bathroom to change into pajamas that he sent up earlier, humming Elgar’s Chanson, thinking about bread and quail and… Chrollo. The knife in your dress pocket gets left on the bathroom counter. It was silly to bring it, now that you think about it. 

Still humming, you flop on the bed and grab the menu for room service. It wouldn’t hurt to order some extra dessert. And another glass of champagne. Maybe two… 

You’re so out of sorts that at no point for the rest of the night, before your weary head hits the soft pillow, do you stop to wonder how Chrollo knew your room number.

--

There are few things Chrollo truly regrets in his life. One of them, he knows, will be that he couldn’t plant himself in this town for a few months in order to properly court you; to introduce you, gradually, to the concept of nen. To the knowledge that you were his soul mate.

But it can’t be helped. He has to leave tomorrow night, come hell or high water. And he certainly won’t let you drown here a moment longer. It’s for your sake. You’ll come to realize that eventually, just as you will--in time--come to forgive him for what he must do.

You’ll no doubt regret letting down your barriers in the morning. But if you hadn’t been so keen to trust in someone, to trust in him, then he wouldn’t have gotten to see something of the real you underneath all of that built-up survival instinct. And didn’t you see something of him, too? He thinks you did. Just a moment, a spark, but it was there. 

You sweet thing. He could hear you humming through the door earlier; heard you order room service (champagne and desserts) and he regretted not having Shalnark swoop in during dinner to set up some security cameras. 

The key to your room feels heavy in his hand. On this side, he is simply himself, staring ahead as the red thread of his soulmate leads away from him. But once he turns it into the lock and quietly opens the door, there will be nothing between you but sleep.

He opens the door and relishes in the way the thread sags even further downward. If only you could have seen how beautiful the thread looked during dinner, all tangled up as he clasped your hand in his. That’s how the thread was meant to look. Not tight and taut and unforgiving.

You’re fast asleep when he silently enters the room and unlocks the deadbolt so that Shalnark can help him remove you from the premises. Curled up underneath the covers, you look like you’re in bliss. It’s likely the first restful sleep you’ve had in a long time. Months? Years? 

How awful for you, to wake up tomorrow and realize that you’re no longer in the hotel bed. And that he’s the one to blame for it. How awful for him, too, to lose his grasp on the tentatively pleasant and revealing evening you had together. But he doesn’t think you’ll be empathetic on that matter. Not for a while, anyway.

He sits down on the bed next to you and it takes a considerable amount of self-control not to curl up against you. It’s not worth the risk of you waking, although the tranquilizer in his pocket could be jabbed into your thigh early, if need be. 

Besides… you’ll have a lifetime of nights together after this. 

There’s no need to rush what is finally his to keep forever. 

#yandere chrollo #yandere hunter x hunter #chrollo x reader #yandere #yandere chrollo lucilfer #afterwitch writes

[chrisevansonly]

Lando’s Ballerina (lando x poppy au)

lando norris x female reader

summary: poppy absolutely loves ballet, and finally her daddy has time to watch her dance

warnings: none very fluffy <3

a/n: i was missing lando and poppy so here we are, i just thought of this idea now🥺

Poppy absolutely loved all things pink, bows, dresses, tutu’s, ballet shoes and stockings you name it, so it was no surprise that she asked you and Lando to take ballet as soon as she was old enough. Of course you both agreed and she had fell in love with it, always excited for her classes, and eager to show you all her moves, there was just one thing wrong.

Lando had yet to see her dance.

He hasn’t intentionally been missing classes, they just always fell on a date he was busy, but today, his schedule was wide open, so he sat happily next to you on the side of the room.

“She’s going to be so happy you’re here my love…”

You squeezed his hand gently as he nodded eagerly, pressing a kiss to your cheek

“I can’t wait to see her dance…can’t believe my little petal is getting so old”

“Lan she’s only 5 baby…”

Sighing dramatically he dropped his head to your shoulder, a small laugh escaping your lips

“That’s so old…”

Rubbing his back soothingly you rolled your eyes in a joking matter

“Well in 7 months we’ll have another little one to be excited about won’t we?”

Sitting up Lando smiled, knowing you’d both just found out you were expecting baby number two, and Poppy was so excited to be a big sister.

“Daddy!!!”

Poppy yelled excitedly seeing her dad, taking off and jumping into his arms, Lando holding her tightly and pressing kisses to her cheek

“Hi my angel, you look so beautiful!!”

She smiled looking at him happily

“You came to see me dance!”

“Of course petal, I’m so excited…”

He put her down and she hugged you tightly, before clapping her hands together

“Daddy i’m wearing all pink look!!” she pointed out, twirling for him while Lando took photos of his precious little girl

“Yes you are Pop! You look perfect”

“Thank you Daddy!!!”

Before she could say anything else, her teacher called her over and she was quick to say bye before running over to where the rest of her class was. When you looked to Lando his eyes were shining and he had a proud smile on his face as he watched his little girl.

He was her biggest fan and he always would be, getting to see Poppy grow and Lando flourish in his role as a father and you never felt luckier. You had the best little family around, and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Even if your whole universe was now pink and sparkly.

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #rueschats💗 #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris blurb #lando norris fic #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris au #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 masterlist #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 drabble #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

[alisonfelixwrites]

the deal - part 1/3 (*) [harry styles au]

//

part two, part three.

summary: in which harry & claire are both single parents and their kids are best friends in school. atlas & finn are six years old and want to hang out all the time even if their parents don't get along .... at first.

word count: 23,973

content warning: smut!! (not too much for my standards lol). mentions of drug use, single parenthood with neglect from the other parent, mentions of physical/emotional abuse

this one is also already on my wp (to be found under 'muse')!! but she deserved her own moment on tumblr because this is one of my faves ❤️

//

“Oh my god.” The voice of a distressed woman behind the wheel sounded through the car.

Claire pressed her hand down on the honk once more, “Fucking move!” She roared before swerving to the side, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The many curse words easily tumbled from her dry lips as she made her way through a part of town she hadn’t often driven through.

Her old Toyota stood out like a sore thumb between all the fancy cars of the fancy people who resided here in these fancy homes. She was sure that if they took one look at her, her Burger King outfit would stand out too against the bright blue of her old car.

“Why the fuck do you drive a Tesla when you don’t even know how to use it!” Claire continued shouting, making hand gestures to the other drivers. An elderly woman driving a BMW gave her a disgusted look and Claire simply rolled her eyes, speeding off now that the intersection had finally cleared a bit.

Her heart was hammering in her throat and her hands were tightly clamped around the wheel. With her cap still on her head, Claire hadn’t had the time to get changed once she noticed the many missed calls on her phone. She simply jumped into her car after her shift and drove like a maniac to try and keep the damage to a minimum.

Waze finally showed the place she had to be at, and she came to a screeching halt before clumsily driving up a massive driveway which held a Land Rover and an old Volkswagen Beetle. Claire jumped out of the car and rushed up to the front door, completely out of breath.

Jamming her finger on the doorbell over and over again, she noticed a set of lights being turned on in the hallway before the door was yanked open.

“I’m so sorry!” She immediately blurted out, being met with a man who shot her an angry and very judging glare. Claire couldn’t blame him. She had fucked up.

He towered over her, blocking the doorway to his house as Claire shifted on her feet. He took a quick glance at her outfit, “I take it you’re Claire Carter?”

“Yes.” She breathed, “Shit, I-I’m so sorry I’m so late.” She palmed her forehead, fatigue taking over. Her entire body ached after standing on her feet for so many hours, faking polite smiles at the customers who did nothing but treat her like shit. She reeked of fries and couldn’t wait to take a shower.

The man in front of her wore joggers and a casual, white shirt. He had a clip holding his brown hair away and some scruff on his jaw. The judging look he sent her made Claire wish the ground could swallow her whole. He eventually exhaled, “You’re the one who forgot her child at school?” The snide tone of his voice made Claire press her lips together.

She lowered her eyes and swallowed, “Look, I’m just here to pick up Atlas.” Her voice was softer now, “Where is he?”

“Inside.” The man nudged his head inside his house, “Playing with my boy.”

Claire nodded, “Right. You’re Finn’s dad, aren’t you? Atlas talks about him a lot."

“Yeah.”

Silence took over and Claire glanced into the hallway behind him, “So… Can you tell him I’m here? Or can I come in?” A hint of impatience laced her voice. It was already late and Claire knew the never ending amount of chores that were waiting for her at home. Not to mention she had to get Atlas to bed on time to not disrupt their entire weekend schedule.

“He’s a good kid, you know?” The man spoke, snapping Claire out of her thoughts. She flicked her eyes up at him before frowning softly, “I’m aware. I’m raising him.”

“No, like… He’s a good kid. Teacher was raving about him. I went in to pick up Finn and they were the only two left. The teacher was about ready to leave and she couldn’t reach you. She was about to call the police.”

Claire’s cheeks turned an embarrassed shade of pink as she swallowed. She was being lectured by this man, who clearly judged her for not being a decent parent and forgetting to pick up her child after school. Claire’s stomach turned, knowing full well she already wasn’t making a good impression with the people of Atlas’ new school. She was hardly ever there to drop him off or pick him up and had a sitter do those things. She had never even met most of the teachers or the other parents, which was very frowned upon at that school.

“I’d like to take him home now.” Claire repeated, her voice a little hoarse, “It’s late.”

“Wonder why.” He scoffed before sighing and turning around, “Finn!” He yelled into the house. Claire felt her bottom lip wobbling, attempting to recompose herself before the sheer look of disgust of this man brought her to tears.

She soon heard little footsteps running over the wooden floors of the house, which honestly was more of a mansion. Even when Claire felt like shit, the sight of her little boy with his shaggy blonde hair, cheered her up immediately. With a wide grin on her face, she crouched down, opening up her arms for him to jump into her.

“Hi, baby!” Claire squeaked, spinning him around as Atlas clung to her. He had some sort of stain on his shirt but Claire didn’t mind, holding his body close to hers. “Hi, mummy! I missed you today.” Atlas bubbled in response. Claire hummed before putting him down, already feeling the massive ache in her back, “I know, I missed you too.”

Her eyes then flicked to the boy standing in the doorway too, his dad having a protective hand on the top of his back. “Hi.” Claire smiled, holding out her hand, “You must be Finn.”

“Yes.” He timidly spoke, offering her a small smile. He shook her hand with little enthusiasm, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”

“Yeah, ‘m Claire.” She smiled back before straightening up, “Well, thank you again. We should get going.”

“That your car?” Finn’s father nudged his head towards the blue Toyota and Claire exhaled, “Yes.”

“Hm.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes, “Have a good night.” She mumbled, not even waiting for his response. Atlas shouted a goodbye to Finn, waving excitedly before climbing into the passenger seat of the car. Claire checked her mirrors, avoiding the shocked eyes at all costs that her kid was getting in the front seat of the car.

Claire being the responsible parent she was couldn’t afford to fix the broken safety belts of the backseat, so Atlas drove up front with her. Backing out of the long driveway, she watched Finn and his father disappear back inside of the huge house.

“’M sorry, baby. Mum had to work late.” Claire yawned softly as they hit traffic again to drive home, “Did you have fun with your friend?”

“Yes, Finn’s really nice. A little quiet.” Atlas spoke. Claire hummed, “Are you hungry?”

“No! Harry made us dinner.”

“Harry.” Claire nodded, “That Finn’s dad?”

“Yes. He’s nice.”

Claire huffed and took a left, “Debatable.” She mumbled under her breath, not for Atlas to hear. The rest of the car ride was filled with Atlas’ babbles that Claire honestly loved. He spoke about nothing important most of the time but she loved hearing his voice and the way he saw the world, what observations he made. In her mind, she was already thinking about tomorrow though.

She had the Saturday-shift to cover too, so Atlas was spending the day with his father. The thought alone made Claire’s stomach clench but she tried to push it away. He deserved a shot at two parents and perhaps Evan really did deserve another chance to prove himself as a father.

The heavy door to the appartement hardly budged as Claire put her entire weight against it to open it up. The entire building shook as she did so, and she could tell the neighbours were listening to the news through the thin walls of this crappy building.

No one ever said it was this hard to be an uneducated, unsupported single mum.

With a heavy sigh, Claire ran her fingers through Atlas’ blonde whisps as he excitedly walked into their home. As always, both kicked off their shoes by the door and headed through the narrow hallway – passing both their bedrooms – towards the living area. Pizza boxes were on the counter from last night and Claire was glad Atlas had already eaten at his friend’s house because in all her haste, she even forgot to pick up groceries.

Ignoring the rumbling of her own stomach, she decided on a quick shower to feel fresh and clean again before snuggling up on the couch with Atlas to watch some of his favourite shows. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, refusing to go to sleep before her six year-old did.

Life was pathetic enough as it was.

She couldn’t shake the look of absolute judgement and despise she had received from Harry. Yes, she had forgotten to pick up her child after school. Yes, she had driven like a maniac and showed up at his door dressed in her Burger King outfit, hours late. Yes, they had been close on calling the cops on her.

But that didn’t make her a bad mother.

Claire sighed, gently stroking her fingers over Atlas’ forehead as he sucked on his thumb. It was a habit she tried to get him to shake, but simply didn’t have the energy to constantly point it out to him. He was too old to still be doing that, but part of Claire knew that even Atlas was traumatized from the shit he had witnessed as a baby and an infant.

It had taken Claire two years to get away from Evan and the past four years had been hell. And bliss at the same time.

She didn’t think she’d be a single mum at twenty-eight, making ends meet and having no savings to start something up. But Atlas was kind, fun and energetic. Now that he was a bit older, it was like having a mini-me. She could always talk to him and he was intelligent for his age, following along easily in the topics Claire spoke to him about. He was respectful albeit a little wild at certain times.

In his previous school they had called him a ‘wild child’ who ‘acted out because of the way his mother raised him’. Simply because he had learned the word ‘fuck’ from Claire and had yelled it out in class.

Once.

Claire thought she’d be done with the judgement, but after only a few weeks in his new school she could already sense it again. If not from the teachers, then definitely from the other parents. She was happy Atlas made friends so easily and that he was such an open, approachable kid, but she could really do without the critiques of the others.

It was on Monday that she saw Harry again.

After much whining from Atlas, Claire decided to drop him off at school herself for the first time. Along with all the other parents in line, she was crouched down in front of him to make sure everything was in his backpack for the day. She was parked with one wheel on the curb in front of a garage, so she really didn’t have much time.

Glancing around to check for police in the street, Claire hurried up and stuffed everything in his backpack, “There, you’ve got everything.”

“Thank you, mummy.” Atlas grinned. A dimple popped in his cheek, one of the things he inherited from Evan. Claire’s stomach turned at the memory. Another memory was the ache in her arm from the bruise she had there. A much more recent memory, from picking up Atlas on Saturday.

She wasn’t sure who had reacted worse to her being late for pick-up. Harry, who had stared her down and made her feel insignificant, or Evan, who had grabbed her and shoved her against the wall while yelling in her face.

“Good boy.” Claire proudly smiled, cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead, “You be good today, hm? Belle will be here to pick you up after school.”

Atlas’ face dropped, “Belle?” He pushed his bottom lip out into a pout, “Why not you?”

“I have to work, honey.” Claire sighed, “But I’ll be home for dinner.”

“But I don’t like Belle.” Atlas whined, “She stinks.”

Claire could feel a few pairs of eyes on her and rolled her lips inside of her mouth, “Well, that’s because she smokes so much. But I have to work, I’ve explained this to you.” Claire kept her voice down but Atlas whined louder, jutting out his lip, “But mummy!”

“Atlas.” Claire sternly whispered, shaking her head to him, “I’ll see you for dinner, end of discussion.”

He stared at the ground with a thick frown in his forehead, refusing to look at her, “Fuck.” He whispered.

Claire’s eyes widened, “Atlas! No,” She held up her finger, “you promised me you’d never say it again.” Her cheeks flamed up as the parents next to her had definitely heard that. Atlas shrugged while staring at the tips of his worn-out sneakers, “You say it all the time.”

“I’m an adult.” Claire sighed before scratching above her brow. Her hair was in a low bun and she wore jeans and a large hoodie, “Look, just go inside, hm? Class is about to begin, don’t want you to be late.”

Atlas didn’t look at her anymore, simply turned around and walked off. A lump formed in Claire’s throat as she watched him, and her hands fiddled with the sleeves of her jumper, “I love you! Have a good day!” She called after him, but he didn’t react. Exhaling a shaky breath, Claire tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hi!” She heard the voice from next to her, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”

Claire forced a smile, staring at the perfectly done make-up of one of the mums next to her, “Hi.” She nodded, “Yes, I’m Claire. Nice to mee you.”

“Hi, I’m Dolores.” The woman smiled back with her pearly white teeth, “One of my girls is in Atlas’ class. Betty.”

“Oh,” Claire raised her brows, “yeah, I think Atlas has mentioned her.”

Another mum joined the conversation, “So you’re Atlas’ mum, hm? We all thought it was that gothic sixteen year old.” She laughed, referring to Belle and her dark make-up and black clothes. Claire pressed her lips together, “No, that’s just his sitter. She lives in the building with us, so it’s easy.”

“Hm.” The third woman simply nodded, “Well, me and Dolores are off to have some coffee. Would you care to join?”

Claire forced a smile, “Thank you for the offer, but I have to get to work. It was nice to meet you.” She shot an awkward wave and turned around, stopping dead in her tracks when she near bumped into Harry. Claire was only eye level with his chest and shortly looked up, sending him a nod, “Hi.” She went to stride past him but Harry stopped her, turning around with her, “Nice outfit.”

She could hear the judgement in his voice and rolled her eyes before turning to face him, “Look, I could really do without all those comments of yours. I thanked you for looking after Atlas on Friday, there’s really no need for you to behave like that.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest while firmly keeping her feet on the ground. Harry wore a loose, grey cable knit jumper and some blue jeans that hung loosely around his legs. His hair was back in that little clip to keep it away.

The other mums were out of earshot and Harry frowned, taking a step closer to Claire, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She stood her ground although her voice wavered, “I know you think you’re better than me. And you probably are. Sue me for working a lot so I can provide for my kid. Sometimes it happens that I lose track of time or that I cover a shift. ” She bit before turning around and stomping off.

Harry watched her, scoffing under his breath. His eyes lingered as the blonde walked up to her horribly parked car, near flipping of another driver who honked at her for crossing randomly. The car moved from how harshly she slammed the door shut before she drove off. He shook his head to himself. That reckless driving with a six year-old next to her was dangerous.

He turned back with his hands in his pockets, feeling the eyes of the other mums on him. Harry was basically the only father who made it to drop-off moments. It caused most of the other mums to shoot their shot somehow and flirt with him, which he always rolled his eyes at.

He shot Finn one last wave, watching as he hurried up to walk next to Atlas. Both immediately broke out into a grin and Harry sighed, part of him wishing Finn could’ve found another friend in class. Finn was a little quiet and timid, which is why it surprised Harry that he gravitated towards someone as loud and extraverted as Atlas.

Before Atlas transferred schools, Finn never really mentioned many of his classmates. He often played by himself and never asked to invite anyone over for a playdate. Ever since a few weeks, he talked about Atlas all the time.

So when Harry saw the little blonde boy, waiting for his mum who had promised to pick him up, he took it upon himself to take him home and care for him until they got a hold of one of his parents. He had overheard the teachers talking about it, and only one name was on the call sheet.

Claire Carter.

A blonde-haired hurricane who showed up at his door by the time it was dark. The muted brown of her Burger King-outfit didn’t fit her or compliment her in any way. Even from the distance, Harry could see the fire in her eyes, hidden by a lot of fatigue.

But he didn’t really care in that moment. She had put her child in danger, and Harry could never imagine forgetting to pick up Finn from school or not notifying the teacher. He simply couldn’t understand how that happened.

He wasn’t able to keep his snide remarks down, somehow feeling so frustrated with her that she was so casual about fucking forgetting her child.

But he had quickly developed a soft spot for Atlas. Partly because he was making feel Finn so at ease, and partly because he was just a funny, goofy and playful kid. Harry had overheard them as they played together, and he constantly asked Finn questions. Asking how he was doing, asking if he felt okay, asking if he had a good day at school. It was gentle and caring.

Until he had heard Atlas slipping in a curse word and Harry’s eyes had widened tremendously.

After meeting his mum, he wasn’t really all that surprised anymore.

***

“Booze?” Harry frowned as Claire handed him the bottle of scotch.

She sheepishly shrugged, “You don’t drink?”

“Uh – no, I do.” Harry breathed, eyeing the label and seeing some knock-off version of cheap scotch. He cleared his throat, “’S just a bit of a weird gift to thank someone for looking after your kid.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to get you. Don’t think you need another stick to push up your ass.” Claire muttered and Harry glared at her, “Anything else?”

They were back in the same position. Claire was on the grass in front of Harry’s house as he stood in the doorway after Finn and Atlas ran inside. It was a Saturday and even though Claire had felt excited about spending a day with Atlas, he had asked her for a playdate with Finn.

And so here she was, dropping him off at his best friend’s house.

“No.” She breathed, “Not really. You’re just going to text me if I can come pick him up?”

Harry nodded, “Sure. Any allergies or something I need to be aware of for lunch?”

“No, he’s all good. Not a big fan of spinach if you were considering that.” Claire informed him. Harry softly nodded, “Fine then, bye.” He closed the door and Claire huffed, shaking her head. She hoped for Atlas’ sake that Finn wasn’t as much of a bitch as his father.

But disaster struck the moment Claire got in her car and tried to start it, only for her car the make the most pathetic noise and shut down.

“No.” She groaned, “God, please, no.” She tried again, jamming her key in it only to receive no response. Claire sat in the driver’s seat for a good ten minutes, simply refusing to get out and knock on Harry’s door again to ask him for help. She refused. Stubbornly, she sat in the seat until she got too bored and

Finally pushing her pride aside, she got out of the car in the scorching sun. Her arms crossed in front of her, she sighed while ringing Harry’s door again. He opened up with that same frown, “Forgot something?”

“I never left.” Claire deadpanned, “My car’s dead. Won’t start. Can I come inside to call a mechanic? It’s boiling.”

“I can feel that. ‘S like an oven.” Harry glanced outside before opening up the door wider, “Fine, come in.”

“Thank you.” She breathed. Harry cringed at her sandy shoes as she strolled through his hallway and straight into the kitchen like she had been here a billion times before. “Where are the kids?” She questioned while sitting down on a barstool.

“Yeah, make yourself at home, why don’t you.” Harry sarcastically spoke before leaning against the counter, “Upstairs. Finn’s got a playroom.”

“A playroom.” Claire nodded while scrolling her phone while searching for a mechanic, “Fancy.”

“Had to do something with my ex’s empty art studio.”

The comment made Claire flick her eyes up. Harry was staring out the window with his arms crossed. The stubble was more prominent now than a week before and the sun coming through definitely accentuated his prominent jaw and the shape of his lips. Claire put her phone down as she leaned her arms on the countertop, “Want to talk about it?”

Harry huffed softly, “No. Did you find a mechanic yet?”

“Do you know anyone in this neighbourhood? That I can like… afford.” Claire muttered the last part and Harry pressed his lips together, “Yeah, I’ll call my car guy. Don’t have to worry about money.”

“Your car guy?”

“Mhm.” Harry was on his phone, a concentrated frown on his forehead. Claire tilted her head to the side, “That’s… I mean, how often do you need a car guy?”

“Just sometimes.” Harry shrugged, “The old beetle outside gives up every once in a while. I call him and he comes here, it’s easy.”

“Both cars are yours?” Claire asked in clarification, and Harry hummed, “Yes.”

“Wow.” She mumbled, nodding to herself, “Must be nice.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her remark and then called his car guy, sharing a few quick words with him before hanging up again, “He’ll be here soon.”

Claire nodded, “Don’t you have jumper cables?”

“No, my car guy does.”

“Right.” She breathed. They were left in silence for a bit as the coffee was running. Harry hadn’t asked her if she wanted any, but poured her a cup either way and Claire didn’t complain. The longer the silence lasted, the more comfortable it became as both scrolled on their phones for a bit, the occasional sigh coming from Harry’s mouth.

Giggles and small feet carried themselves through the hallway.

“Daddy!!” Finn bubbled as both him and Atlas ran into the kitchen. Harry’s brows raised at the sight of his son, “Bub, where’s your shirt?”

“Atlas and I want to swim!” He ignored the question and Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “Now?”

Atlas excitedly jumped, “Swim!”

“Atlas.” Claire chuckled while shaking her head, “You don’t know how to swim.”

Harry flicked his eyes to hers, “He can’t swim?” And Claire shook her head, “No, he hasn’t been taught yet.”

“Hm.” Harry exhaled, “Uh – well, I have floaties. Finn, you should use them too.”

“But, daddy!” The boy whined, “I can swim!” He stomped his foot down and Harry huffed, “In a kiddie pool. Not in a pool this deep.”

Finn pouted and Claire fought her smile at how adorable he looked, “But, daddy…” He tried again, “you always come in the pool with me and swim with me and throw me around and then save me.” He explained. Claire’s lips curled up in a smile, “Oh, do you?” She flicked her eyes to Harry who scoffed slightly before crouching down to Finn’s level, “Buddy, I have to fix something with Atlas’ mum’s car, so I can’t come in the pool right now. Besides, I have some work to do in the office. I thought you guys would be nice and quiet for me today?”

“We can be quiet in the pool.” Atlas butted in and Harry shook his head, “It’s gonna be a no. I can’t supervise when you guys are in the pool and it’s too dangerous.”

“Mummy,” Atlas whispered, tugging on Claire’s sleeve. She turned to face him as Harry ruffled Finn’s hair, who couldn’t hide the disappointment for the life of him.

“Yes?” She smiled at Atlas, who nibbled his lip a little, “Why don’t we have a pool?”

Claire took a breath, “Because we live in an apartment.”

“Yeah.” Atlas lowered his eyes, “But I like being outside. Finn has a very big garden to play in.”

Claire’s heart clenched as she exhaled before pressing her lips together. Atlas looked at her with big, green eyes, expecting an answer she couldn’t give him. Claire couldn’t tell him she also really wanted a house with a garden and a pool and a dog, giving Atlas the room he craved to play and be wild. He had a lot of energy and no real way to get rid of that in their small, dingy apartment.

Harry saved her though, clearing his throat, “Atlas, you can borrow swimming trunks from Finn. You guys get in the pool for a while once I grab the floaties.” The cheers sounded loudly through the room even though Harry wasn’t finished yet, “Only for a little while!” He held his finger up, “I have to work!”

Before the final word had left his lips, Finn and Atlas had bolted out of the room and back up the stairs and Harry let out a sigh, checking his watch. Claire followed his gaze, noticing his bony fingers tapping on the countertop in thought. The veins wrapping around his arm led her eyes up to the tattoos on his skin.

“I can stay too.” She offered, taking a sip of her coffee.

Harry seemed snapped out of his thoughts, “Hm?”

Claire cleared her throat, “I can stay too. You said you need to get work done and I have a free day. I can stay by the pool with the boys. I don’t mind, if you don’t have the time for it.”

“I want to have the time for it.” Harry clarified and Claire nodded, “I know. But it’s fine if you don’t. You can’t have time for everything.”

Harry scratched his jaw in thought, “I don’t have like bathing suits here. Astrid took all her stuff.”

Astrid.

Claire shrugged, “I’m wearing black underwear. Decent enough, not like… a thong or anything.” She mumbled. Harry fought the flaming of his cheeks before huffing out a chuckle, “Or you could stay by the edge and just put your legs in.”

“Atlas doesn’t know how to swim. Floaties or not, I’m getting in the water with him.” Claire frowned.

Harry sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I mean – uh… If you don’t mind? I really have a project to finish today, I have to meet the deadline or I’m losing this client.”

“What is it that you do exactly?”

“I’m an architect.” Harry mumbled, clearly still lost in thought at Claire’s offer. He nibbled his lip as she nodded, digesting the information. It made sense. Harry worked from home and on his own schedule, which meant he was free to drop Finn off and pick him up from school all the time.

“And you didn’t have any other plans today? On your free day?”

Claire let out a breath, “I – uh… Seeing as Atlas asked for this playdate, I actually planned an actual date this afternoon.” She tilted her head to the side while squinting her eyes at her screen, “But judging by this guy’s texts… he’s about to cancel on me either way so, yeah.” She sighed and put her phone back down, forcing Harry a small smile.

He whistled teasingly, “A date, hm? Spicy.”

“Not all of us are a hundred years old.” She rolled her eyes and Harry huffed out a laugh, “How old do you think I am, Claire?” The playfulness in his tone was something Claire wasn’t used to from him. The Harry she had seen so far in their previous encounters, was uptight and moody. His dimple popped in his left cheek as he smirked slightly.

She faked a small smile back, “Considering your gigantic frown lines, I’d say nearing your forties.”

“Ouch.” Harry placed his hand on his chest, “You wound me. Thirty-four, actually, but thanks. I’ll make some changes to my skincare routine. Noted.”

Claire giggled and shook her head, “I was kidding.”

“Funny girl, aren’t you?”

Claire flicked her eyes up, sensing a shift in Harry’s tone. He had lose the tension in his shoulders, softly smirking at her now from the opposite side of the kitchen as he leaned against the countertop. She lowered her eyes again and Harry cleared his throat, “So, going on a date, hm? First date?”

“Yes.” Claire breathed, “First and last date, which is how it usually goes.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know,” She shrugged, her fingers toying together, “I show up in a pretty dress and flirt and play them a little. It’s all fun and games in the beginning until the real conversations start and it comes up that I’m a mother, raising Atlas by myself.”

Harry slowly nodded and Claire smiled, “You know, they’re usually fine with me having a son. Like, that’s alright mostly. But once they realize I don’t have a week-week schedule with my ex and actually have Atlas near every day, that’s where they draw the line. Like they don’t want to share.” She shrugged, “So that’s where it ends. I’m lucky if I can get some decent sex out of it. Which doesn’t happen often.”

Harry sputtered out a laugh at her bluntness before shaking his head to himself, “Wow. Yeah, I see why it sticks to one date. I could never be with someone who doesn’t appreciate Finn or doesn’t want to spend time with him.”

“It’s a package deal.”

He nodded in agreement, “Sure is.”

Claire leaned her elbow on the countertop and stared at him, “How about you?”

“Me?” Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “Nah. Eternal bachelor.”

She frowned while smiling, “I don’t believe that for a second. I know I’ve only been there to drop off Atlas once, but I could see all those soccer moms making eyes at you.”

“They’re all married.” He rolled his eyes, “And not my type.”

“Rich and beautiful is not your type?” Claire chuckled and Harry shrugged, “Apparently not.”

Silence fell over them again until Harry took a breath, “I’m gonna head up to the office. Grab whatever you want from the fridge or anything. There’s sunscreen in the bathroom and obviously the pool is outside. I’ll go grab the floaties from Finn’s room.”

“Yeah, okay.” Claire nodded. She checked her phone again, just seeing the message come in of her date, cancelling on her and asking to reschedule. She puckered her lips, remembering how he was some hot shot at an up and coming lawyer firm. She didn’t exactly expect him to have time for her on a Saturday.

With Harry’s footsteps heading up the stairs, Claire slowly got up from her barstool and roamed the kitchen. She stared out the window, seeing the pale blue pool in the large garden. It looked inviting, she had to admit. Even if it was nearing the end of September, it was exceptionally warm.

The house felt silent with both boys and Harry upstairs, and Claire’s feet took her to the crispy white living room. Every piece of furniture here looked like it was made by designers and she was nearly scared to touch anything. There weren’t much toys here and then Claire remembered Finn having a playroom upstairs.

As her eyes darted over the pictures on the wall, they stayed put on the brunette in some of the frames. There were about two of her and a younger Finn. The other ones were of Harry and Finn, or a standalone Finn.

Claire figured it was Astrid, Harry’s ex. She was beautiful, obviously. Looking at Finn, he was a gorgeous little boy with obvious great genes.

Just a few minutes later, Claire was outside with both excited boys. Finn and Atlas were around the same size, with Atlas just being a tad taller. Both wore little swimming trunks with either ducks or boats on them and stood perfectly still as Claire put sunscreen on them.

She didn’t see Harry staring at them from the window above. His laptop was open and he was drawing, he really was. Or he tried to. But he stood against the windowsill up on the first floor, staring down the length of his garden. The water of the pool looked inviting and he could see Finn’s wide grin from a mile away.

Claire grinned too, her blonde hair pinned back now with one of Harry’s ballpoints holding it together. It was inventive, he had to give her that. Her hands smoothed over Finn’s back to put the product on him before she gently slid the floaties around the boy’s arms. They both patiently waited at the edge of the pool, excited to jump in.

Harry’s leg twitched a little when his eyes were on her. She kicked off her shoes, a pair of mom jeans on her legs that she popped. The dryness in his throat once she slid the pants down her legs, was something Harry didn’t anticipate. Black underwear was revealed. Simple cotton with just a small lace border.

Harry thanked his impeccable eyesight to see every detail of Claire from a distance. She was shaped beautifully, with curvy thighs and a dip in her waist which was revealed as she lifted the navy top over her head to reveal an equally black bra.

He saw hints of a tattoo on the back of her shoulder, but Claire moved too quickly for Harry to notice it. Urging the boys to get in the pool, she elegantly got in with them.

A small smile tugged on Harry’s lips as he watched the first few minutes of their playing. Atlas and Finn mostly splashed around, ruining Claire’s plans to keep her hair dry. She tossed the ballpen to the side, ducking underneath the water to get in all the way.

She played with Atlas a bit, and Finn too. He laughed loudly as Claire threw him around a little bit, playing gently with him. They did a bit of a race where she purposely let him win while Atlas splashed a little more, without his swimming experience.

It was hours later, when Claire was fresh out of the pool and drying on the sunbed – with both boys running around the garden and giggling – that she felt a towel being dropped on her stomach. Her eyes snapped open in surprise and she squinted, Harry blocking the sunlight a little, “Hi.” He chuckled.

“Oh, hi.” She smiled, sitting up a bit and grabbing the towel, “Thank you.”

“’S fine.” His eyes glanced around the garden, “Did they have fun?”

Claire wrapped the towel around her to dry off, “Yeah. I don’t understand how they’ve got so much energy left, even I need a nap. Two is too much.”

“I’ve honestly never seen Finn this loud.” Harry smiled as his son ran through the garden with Atlas chasing him, “They’re pretty good friends.”

“They are.” Claire smiled as she followed his gaze, “Infectuous, really.”

“They didn’t give you too hard of a time?”

“Not at all. Finn’s a sweet a boy.”

Harry smiled as he nodded, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants, “He is.”

“How about you? Finished your project?”

“Yep.” Harry stretched his arms now, yawning a little, “I need a nap too.” He joked.

Claire got up with a mischievous glint in her eyes, the towel around her form as she took a few steps closer to Harry. He involuntary took a few back, but she was still close enough that he could see the freckles on her nose and the remains of an old scar above her brow.

“What are you doing?” He spoke in a strained voice, taking a few steps back still to create some distance. He could feel himself breaking out into a sweat when Claire just continued to step closer to him. “Claire.” He pushed.

“You know what’s a great substitute for a nap?” She purred, daring to take another step closer to him. She could inhale his perfume and Harry held his breath when she batted her lashes. He swallowed thickly, “Hm?”

“A dip in the water.” She smiled, using a hand that she placed against his covered chest to give him a shove back. Harry’s eyes widened as he lost his balance, “Wh- Wait!” He yelped, reaching his arm out. Claire laughed, hardly caring that Harry managed to take a hold of her wrist and pull her in. Unlike him – who made a gigantic splash as he tumbled down – Claire managed to get in a dive and dip in elegantly.

The coolness of the water did wake Harry up immediately and he sputtered out as he reached the surface, shaking his hair out with his clothes completely soaked. Claire was laughing as she quickly took the towel to throw it on the grass and get it out of the water.

“Oh my god!” Harry laughed, splashing water at Claire, who giggled. Harry flicked his eyes to their two boys who seemed unaware, chuckling as he shook his head, “You dick.”

Claire gasped in fake shock, “Are you cursing?”

Harry rolled his eyes as he swam back over to the side, pushing himself out of the pool. Claire was mesmerized for a second, watching the way his shirt clung to him. The muscles in his back bulged as he pushed himself up, showing off every ridge.

“Shit.” Harry chuckled, opening up the buttons of his shirt, “I can’t believe you pushed me in the pool. What are you, six?”

Claire grinned and also got out of the water, feeling Harry’s eyes on her as she wrung out her hair, “No, twenty-eight.”

“You wouldn’t say.”

Claire stuck out her tongue and Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Brat.” He scoffed, “’M gonna grab towels.” He turned around to head into the house, his pants soaking wet and his shirt off. The light reflected off his muscular back and Claire near drooled. Harry handed her another fluffy towel and both sat down on the sunbed.

“So around what time are you going to offer me a drink?” Claire teased and Harry hummed, “I don’t drink around Finn.”

“Well, ‘m not gonna get blind drunk but I wouldn’t say no to some pink wine.”

“Yeah, not blind drunk, just…” He shrugged, “I don’t want to give the wrong example.”

Claire leaned back on her hands, letting herself dry in the heat of the burning sun, “Having a drink every once in a while isn’t setting the wrong example, Harry. You’re an adult.” She shrugged, “I mean, it’s your own decision obviously, but it’s impossible to be responsible all the time around your child.”

“Responsible…” Harry mused, “Like remembering to pick them up from school?”

“Dick.” Claire chuckled, nudging her shoulder into his playfully. Harry grinned, staring at the pool as the boys played still. Harry had changed out of his pants and put on some swimming trunks this time, in case Claire decided to shove him in the pool again. His hair was wet and dripping down his back, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you again for that. Work just got… in the way.”

Harry turned his head to the side to watch her, “Don’t have to thank me again, that’s not why I said it. Was just making a joke.”

“I know.”

“You work a lot, don’t you? At Burger King?”

Claire exhaled a breath, “It’s not the most glamorous job and it doesn’t pay that much. But yes, I work a lot. I take a lot of shifts and often work weekends or late nights.”

“Is Atlas by himself when you work?”

“No,” Claire breathed, “I’m not that terrible of a mum.” Her voice held a hint of bitterness and she pressed her lips together, “There’s a young girl in my building who babysits for him. She’s like… seventeen maybe and she dropped out of school. She’s always available. The other mums said they’d seen her around to pick him up sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah…” Harry nodded, “like dark make-up, black hair?”

“Mhm, that’s Belle.”

“Isn’t it like… counter-productive? You have to pay her and then work while having to do so…”

“I earn more than whatever I have to pay her.” Claire mumbled, “Like I said, she’s not that expensive. I keep more than I have to give her.”

Harry nodded, “Right.” There was silence for a moment, “Look, ‘m sorry about giving you a hard time last week. I didn’t mean to like… shame you or anything.”

“No, I get it. It’s everyone’s first impression of me, trust me.” She chuckled, “That judgement is exactly why I pulled him out of his previous school, though. He heard people talking that I was never there, that I was leaving him on his own, that I wasn’t fit to be a parent. It’s painful because I’m really doing this all for him.”

Harry nodded again, listening to her. Claire fiddled with her fingers, “Like what he said about the pool earlier, you heard, right?"

“Mhm. I did.”

“Well, I want that too. I want to give him everything, I want him to have a nice childhood and I want to spend time with him. But I don’t have an education so I can’t really go for high-paying jobs. Just have to take what I can get and hope for flexible hours to be there for him.”

“You’re doing a lot, Claire.” Harry sympathized, “Seriously, ‘m sorry. I-I judged way too quick.”

“That’s fine.” She shot him a sly smile, “Happens when you’re old.”

Harry smiled and shook his head to himself, “And hey… I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you drop him off here whenever you have to work late or want some time for yourself? Finn and Atlas can spend time together, he could even stay the night if you want. And you don’t have to pay me.”

“What?” Claire frowned.

“I’m serious.” He shrugged, “It’s nice for Finn to have a friend. They’re joined at the hip.” Harry glanced over his shoulder to see both boys giggling together, a smile tugging on his lips, “I think they’d like it. He could eat here or I could grab him after school, bring him here. You can just come pick him up whenever you’re finished.”

Claire tilted her head to the side with a frown, “But… Don’t you have to work? Or go places?”

“Not really, to be honest.” Harry admitted, “I’m home all the time. A lot has changed since my divorce and I don’t have much of a social life anymore, just put Finn first. Wanted him to grow up with at least one present parent after all the arguing he had to witness as a baby. And I work for myself, got flexible hours. I work when he’s at school or when he goes to bed at night.”

Claire stared at him, “I-I mean… If you’re sure.”

“Of course.” Harry smiled, “Dead sure. You can even go on your dates on Saturday nights, or something.” He teased softly and Claire bit her lip, “You’re right. I can. I should text that guy to reschedule."

He hummed, “You can.” He then turned to face her, “So we’ve got a deal?”

Claire nibbled her lip, “And… you’d want nothing out of it?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, “Just doing it for Finn. And Atlas is a nice kid, Claire. He’s a good influence to bring Finn out of his shell.”

She smiled softly, her bubbly boy being a good influence made her so proud. “Okay. Then I guess we have a deal.”

They stupidly shook hands before bursting out in giggles. Claire hummed, bumping her shoulder into his again, “You’re not that bad, you know?”

“I know.” Harry playfully responded, “Neither are you."

“You’re the first mum-friend I’ve ever made in my life.”

“Oh god.” Harry groaned, “Don’t call me your mum-friend.”

Claire threw her head back in a laugh and Harry leaned back a little bit too, his eyes finally catching the ink on the back of Claire’s shoulder now that her hair dried a bit. He could see now, that it was a tattoo for Atlas. Literally a tattoo of Atlas, who carried the world. It was simple, and even a little disturbed with some dark bruises around it.

Harry swallowed, but decided not to comment on it.

***

“Hi, Harry!” Atlas bubbled as he waved at Harry. He was leaning against his car, sunglasses up his nose as he waved back, “Hi, bud.”

“Atlas!” Claire panted as she came running from across the street – having done another horrible parking job with her car. Harry smiled as she ran up to Atlas, crouching down to catch him in a hug. Atlas ran straight into her arms with a giggle and Claire hugged him, stroking his back, “Hi, baby. How was your day?”

“Good!” He smiled widely. Claire pressed a kiss to his cheek as she smiled.

“Bye Atlas! See you soon!” Finn’s voice sounded as he ran up to Harry, and Claire straightened up as she shot him a wave, “Oh, hi. Didn’t see you.”

Yeah, hey.” He smiled back, “Been here a while, I like to be early, Finn doesn’t like to wait.”

“Are you sure it’s still okay for tonight?”

He nodded, “Yep, ‘s fine.” Harry ruffled Atlas’ hair, “Gonna come over for a movie night, bud?”

“Can we watch Toy Story?!” Atlas excitedly gasped and Harry groaned a little under his breath, recovering quickly as he rolled his lips inside of her mouth, “Mhm.”

Claire chuckled, “Are you sure?” She softly asked him and Harry nodded again, “Positive, really. It’ll be fun.”

Her hair was up in a clip again, whisps of hair flying around. She wore a jumper even if it was boiling, and Harry could tell she was still wearing the Burger King shirt underneath, some of the muted brown sticking out of the neckline of her jumper. Claire took Atlas’ hand and waved at Harry and Finn, “See you tonight!”

“Bye!” Harry waved back, and Finn did too. As Harry urged Finn into the backseat, Dolores walked up to him. With her fresh bob-cut and perfect make-up, she sent him a smile, “Hi, Harry.”

“Dolores.” He nodded. She eyed him up and down, “Did I overhear you talking to Claire for a moment there?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded, “Mhm.” There was no point in lying about it, all eyes had been on them just a minute before. His eyes flicked to the other side of the street where Claire slammed her car door to drive off, not putting on her blinkers before she sped off. He wanted to roll his eyes at her driving behaviour but also knew he was super extreme with his careful driving.

“You know…” Dolores lowered her voice and came a little closer as Harry closed Finn’s car door. He straightened up and Dolores shortly glanced around, “There has been some talk. You know, a new mum… people always talk.” She shrugged as if it was the most normal thing. Harry stiffly nodded, “Naturally.” He vividly remembered all the gossip when word got around about what happened between him and Astrid.

“And well,” Dolores tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Natalie heard that Claire has a past in drug abuse.” She was near whispering now, “And that she was married to a dealer.”

Harry let out a soft sigh, “Right.” He hardly listened, if he was honest. He knew better. Word got around quickly here, but everything got changed and manipulated. He knew better than to believe everything he heard around this town.

Dolores cleared her throat, “And that she was using while being pregnant. That poor boy… I mean, it’s clear that he’s got ADHD, and that could be a result of her abusing drugs while pregnant.”

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, “Dolores,” He sighed, “even if it’s true, who cares? It’s her life and it’s been six years since she was pregnant. Let’s not meddle.” He simply spoke, forcing her a small smile.

“I’m just warning you,” Dolores put her hand on Harry’s arm and he flicked his eyes down to the touch with a frown in his forehead. Dolores swallowed, “She’s around Finn, Harry. Think about the influence…”

Harry cleared his throat and pulled his arm away, walking around his car to get behind the wheel, “Bye, Dolores.”

She opened her mouth to say more, but Harry was already in his car with the door closed. He didn’t spare her another glance before he drove off.

A few hours later, someone rang his door. Claire was fiddling with the top button of her dress as she waited for Harry to open his door. Atlas was by her side, excited for his movie night here as she had rescheduled with her date for tonight.

She was sort of excited, it had been a while since she had gone out. Her work schedule didn’t allow her to and she wanted to spend most nights with Atlas. Knowing he wasn’t just in the apartment with Belle scrolling on her phone, but was spending time with his friends eased her guilt a little of leaving him alone.

The lock clicked as Harry appeared, flashing a grin at Atlas, “Hey!”

“Hi, Harry!” He grinned back before turning to Claire, “Bye, mummy!!” He hardly waited for her response before sprinting into the house he knew rather well by now. Claire chuckled, “Yeah, bye. Love you too.”

Harry leaned against the doorpost, shortly scanning her outfit. He was used to seeing Claire either in her Burger King outfit or in jeans and a shirt. Now, she wore a dress. And make-up. It was clear to him she was making an effort. The slippers on her feet made his brows raise though, “Is he super short or something?” He nudged his head towards her feet.

Claire followed his eyes, “Oh, no, I don’t think so. I just can’t drive in heels so I’ll switch my shoes when I arrive.” She explained, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder, “By the way, if I’m done before midnight, I’m coming back over to pick him up.”

“In the middle of the night?” Harry frowned.

“Yeah, we sort of have our morning routing, Atlas and I. So I prefer picking him up and letting him sleep the rest of the night in his own bed. What time do you usually go to bed?”

Harry scratched his chin, “Yeah, around midnight.”

“Okay, but I’ll text you. Maybe he sucks and I’ll be back in an hour.”

His lips curled up in an amused smirk, “What’re dealbreakers to you, Claire?”

“I’d love to go over the list with you,” She grabbed a lipstick from her purse and blindly put it on, painting them a soft cherry red before rubbing them together, “but I’m going to be late if we get into that.”

Harry’s eyes zeroed in on Claire’s lips and he huffed out a chuckle, “Fine. Well, have fun. Be safe. Let me know when you’d come pick up Atlas.”

“Will do! Thank you.” Claire spun on her heel and headed back to her car, driving off the driveway to head to her date. Harry watched, feeling only slightly wary of her going by car instead of being picked up. He wondered if she’d drink during dinner and then drive, picking up Atlas to drive with him.

Dolores’ words ran through his head over and over again before he shook his head to himself and headed inside.

He checked his phone a few times, but Claire was actually having an okay time on her date. The guy who worked at the lawyer firm was charming and showed up in a suit. A bit stiff, Claire thought. And she was definitely underdressed. Her black dress looked classy but was cheap as fuck, and the buttons around her chest seemed near ready to pop.

His eyes were drawn to her tits most of the time as he drank the one scotch after the other. Their conversations started pleasantly and Claire got it out of the way first, immediately notifying him of the fact she had a six year-old son. He hadn’t responded much to it, just hummed and said it was cool.

As the evening progressed, Claire got a bit of an ick though. He seemed to talk mostly about herself and when he ended up not asking one single question about Atlas, Claire decided for herself that this was not it. He was near drunk once they finished their dinner and headed outside. He sloppily tried to kiss her and she turned him down, even having to stifle her laugh when he casually suggested they hook up just once.

He also called her a prude when she refused. Rolling her eyes, Claire got in her car. Before driving off, she quickly texted Harry.

Message to: Harry (Finn’s dad)

Coming back from the restaurant now, I’ll be there in twenty.

It was nowhere near midnight, but just past ten thirty in the evening. Claire had only been on her date a good few hours but it had felt like forever. With the window down, she drove up to Harry’s house again after another disappointing night. It had been the one shitty date after the other in the past few months.

Most lights in the house seemed off as Claire pulled up, getting out in her slippers and softly knocking on the door as to not alert the sleeping children. She heard footsteps, and soon Harry opened up. He looked a little sleepy and Claire suspected he had dozed off on the couch before she texted him that she was coming back.

“Hi.” She bit her lip, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

He stifled a yawn, “You didn’t. Put the boys to bed not too long ago and I was reading a little bit.” He opened the door wider for her, “Come in. How was the date?”

“Horrible.” Claire huffed, following him into the kitchen. Harry hummed, “Want some coffee? Or water? There’s also some dinner leftover if you want.”

“It actually smells so good in here.” Claire hummed, “If you’ve got any left, I’d like to.”

“Sure, I’ll heat some up. Tell me about the guy.”

Claire pushed herself up to sit on the countertop, ��Well, he was just…” She shrugged, “Boring. And arrogant. He only talked about himself, was just overall rude and he drank so much, god… I hope he didn’t yet have to drive.”

Harry smiled softly at her words as he put a plate in the microwave. “How responsible of you.” He teased, repeating the words from last week that she had mocked him with. Claire smiled and rolled her eyes, “Hey, I have morals.”

“Hm.” Harry hummed, remembering Dolores’ words again. He turned around, “Here you go. Atlas really liked it.”

“Holy shit. Did you make this yourself?”

“Think I’ve got some private chef here, Claire?”

She shrugged, “Honestly, yes.” Her fork poked into a piece of chicken as she stuffed it in her mouth.

“Nah, I’m quite an okay cook. I like cooking actually.” Harry went to sit on the opposite countertop, his legs dangling over the edge as they were in the dimly lit kitchen, “Go on now, tell me five positive things about the date.”

“Five?” Claire’s eyes widened, “Uh…” She chewed for a bit, “well, one… he paid. So that was nice.” She narrowed her eyes in thought and Lennon chuckled softly, “Only one?”

“No, no, wait, let me think.” Claire shook her head, “Oh, well, he didn’t shame me when I wanted to have dessert. And when I said I had a kid, he said it was cool.”

“Cool?” Harry frowned, “That’s supposed to be a positive thing? The bar is very low.”

“It’s on the floor, let’s be honest.”

“So I assume it’s safe to say there won’t be a second date.”

Claire scrunched her nose, “Definitely not. He tried to kiss me and suggested sex.”

Harry’s brows raised, “Seriously? Bold.”

“You’d be surprised, dating isn’t the same as it was ten years ago.”

He hummed, “Apparently. Thank god I don’t have to go through that.” He shook his head to himself. He knew it could be brutal out there. Hell, Astrid had made it brutal for him. The thought of her left his stomach in clenches and he quickly pushed it all away.

“Harry, this is really good. Wow.” Claire near moaned as she ate more food and Harry smiled, “Thanks.” He felt proud at her compliment and shyly glanced down. Claire swallowed her bite, “So what did you three do tonight?”

“Watched Toy Story. Twice.”

Claire sputtered out a giggle, “No way.”

“Atlas is quite persuasive.” Harry chuckled, “But I was reading a little throughout. They were nice and quiet though, had some popcorn. They wanted to swim but I said no.”

“Stern.” Claire nodded and Harry shrugged, “Some might say, yes.”

Claire crossed her legs over one another and leaned back, “So… I’m curious. If you never go on a date, how long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

Harry chuckled to himself while shaking his head, “Nope. None of your business.”

Claire shrugged, “Fair enough.”

They sat in silence for a bit until Claire decided to head home. Harry guided her up the stairs to show the spare room where Atlas was sleeping. He was dazed until he laid eyes on his mum, a wide grin spreading over his face. Claire carried him downstairs and gently put him in the car before thanking Harry again and driving off.

***

“Thank you so much for watching him.” Claire breathed as she was at the door in her Burger King outfit. She looked exhausted, Harry noticed. Her hair was a little messy and she had bags under her eyes. It was a Thursday and almost a week after she had dropped Atlas off here to go on her date.

He hadn’t seen much of her throughout the week, or just shortly to pick up Atlas after school. Today, she had to pick up another shift so Harry took Atlas home after school to hang out with Finn.

“’S no problem.” Harry shrugged, “I’ve told you, Atlas is a nice kid to have around. He’s polite.”

“Yeah.” Claire tiredly smiled, “Can you go grab him?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, “Mhm. Or – uh… we were just about to have dinner. You can join if you want.”

“That’s really nice,” Claire sighed, “but you’re already doing way too much for us. And I desperately need to shower.”

“I have showers.” He shrugged.

“Showers? Multiple?”

He chuckled, “Yes. C’mon,” he urged her, nodding his head inside the house, “it’ll be nice for the boys.”

It’s what he went with. That it was nice for the boys. Really trying to ignore the fact that it’d be nice for him too. Claire was easy to talk to and not as uptight or fake like all the other mums in the school. She was blunt and unapologetic, but very straightforward and without bullshit. He appreciated that now, whereas he didn’t at first.

She was trying her best, he could see that.

Claire eventually caved, nodding her head. She wore that horrific Burger King fit and Harry showed her where everything was in the bathroom, handing her a pair of joggers and a shirt of his.

The four of them sat around the dinner table later, with Claire only being slightly uncomfortable at how underdressed and casual she was. The clothes Harry handed her felt nice and soft, but she wasn’t used to having dinner in pyjamas with wet hair laying on her back and with anyone else besides Atlas.

“I have a question,” Harry popped, narrowing his eyes at Claire, “Do you ever eat burgers?”

She chuckled, shaking her head, “Absolutely not. Can’t stand burgers anymore. Besides, I see how they’re made and let me tell you… it’s a big no. I’m in the smell of it all day and I just…” She shuddered, “Nope.”

They fell silent again with just Finn and Atlas whispering something to one another until Finn nodded and cleared his throat, “Claire?” He spoke in a small, soft voice. Claire swallowed her bite and turned, “Yes?”

Finn looked a little nervous, shifting in his chair as he put his fork down and a slight flush rose over his cheeks, “Atlas said I could come to your house.”

Claire frowned slightly, shortly flicking her eyes to Atlas before clearing her throat, “I’m… what?”

“We always come here. I want to show Finn where we live.” Atlas piped up. Claire felt her cheeks heating up a little bit in embarrassment as she stared at her plate. Harry hummed, “That could be fun. Maybe we could all have dinner at your place?”

Claire licked her lip, refusing to look him in the eye, “That’s…well, that’s not possible. I-I don’t have a table that can fit four people.” She mumbled softly. Her shoulders slumped a little bit and Harry paused mid-chew to watch her as she kept her eyes on the food in her plate.

“Atlas, baby, we don’t really have the room for you and Finn to play the way you can here, right?” She softly spoke to her son.

Atlas pouted and Claire forced him a small smile, “Maybe some other time, yeah?”

“But I want to show him where we live.” Atlas murmured in a trembling voice, nearly on the verge of tears. Claire turned to him and kept her voice soft, “I know. But you know how mummy always says we won’t live there for too long? Because it’s so small and loud and dark?” She near whispered to Atlas, who nodded and sniffled once, “Well, maybe we should wait until we live somewhere nicer.”

“Are you poor?” Finn’s voice sounded curious and Claire’s eyes widened.

“Finn!” Harry scolded in shock, “You can’t ask people that!”

Finn looked completely horrified at the sudden volume his father used to talk to him. He stared at Harry with large, green eyes and even his lip was trembling, “B-But Atlas comes to school with dirty clothes.” He near whispered, sounding nervous. Claire’s stomach dropped and Finn sniffled again, “And we share my lunch because he’s still hungry after his.”

“Stop!” Harry snapped, his fist coming down on the table. Finn jumped up with a gasp in surprise and then burst into tears, scrambling from the table to run off. Claire held her breath as she stared at Harry, his fist clenched as he exhaled a sharp breath, “Shit.” He grumbled under his breath.

Claire swallowed and turned to Atlas, “Do you want to go check up on Finn, baby? Tell him his daddy’s not mad at him and neither am I? That we’re all okay?”

Atlas also seemed surprised with Harry’s outburst and timidly nodded before leaving the table to find Finn in the house. The moment he was out of sight, tears spilled from Claire’s eyes. She turned her head away from Harry, hiding it as she hastily wiped underneath her eyes. Her fingers trembled, repeating in her head what Finn had said.

That Atlas showed up with dirty clothes to school and not enough lunch, to the point he was still hungry and ate from the other kid’s lunchboxes.

“Claire.” Harry exhaled and she ignored him, her brain spinning. She was trying so hard. And all this time, she thought she had been doing good. That Atlas was at least happy even if they didn’t have all that much. But people talked, and soon enough the same thing would happen like it had done in his three previous schools. Word would get around, parents would tell their kids not to hang out with him and he’d be bullied.

Harry scooted his chair closer to hers, “Claire,” He repeated, “look at me.”

She pressed her lips together and flicked her eyes up. Harry noticed the wetness in her waterline, the red rimming around her lids. She was exhausted and sad, and it was written all over her face. He wasn’t sure what to do, so gently patted her knee, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” She shook her head, “it’s not his fault. I just – uh… I didn’t know.” She simply shrugged, staring down again, “We’re always in such a hurry in the mornings a-and I just grab whatever clothes of his I can find. And sometimes I don’t have time to do laundry in the weekends. And I swear, he fucking grows all the time, it’s like I have to buy new shirts every other week.” She tiredly scratched her forehead.

Harry listened to her soft rambling and Claire shook her head, “He’s never complained.” Her voice was a little raspy, “about being hungry, or not having enough food. He’s never mentioned it to me.”

“I’m sure Finn was exaggerating.” Harry murmured back, holding his hand on her knee now to give a gentle squeeze, “It maybe happened once. He’s an energized kid who eats a lot, I’ve noticed it here too. I’m sure that if he truly was hungry after lunch every single day, he would’ve told you. You guys are close, right?”

“Yeah.” Claire nodded, “He usually tells me everything.”

“See? I’m sure it’s not that bad. And so what he has a stain on his shirt? He’s a wild kid, always playing and running around… he’s bound to fuck up his clothes.”

Claire listened to him and really tried to hear him, but fresh tears welled in her eyes, “I’m really trying, Harry.” Her tone was shaky and he cooed, “I know. Fuck, I know. I can see it first-hand.”

“Shit.” Claire murmured as she buried her face in her hands and her shoulders trembled in quiet sobs. Harry squeezed her knee and then moved his hand up to her shoulder, “Hey, c’mere.” He urged her to stand up and Claire did so, letting herself be pulled into his chest for a hug. Her forehead was pressed to his clavicle as she sobbed into him, Harry’s arms rubbing up her back to comfort her and shush her softly.

“You’re doing incredible, Claire. And Atlas loves you so much.” He held her body to his, feeling as she weakly cried, both in exhaustion and in feeling powerless. It was a few minutes later that Harry swallowed, “And if you ever need help with money or anything…” He knew the moment he said it, that she’d refuse.

Claire sniffled and shook her head while being pressed to him, “We’ll be fine.”

“O-Or maybe your parents or something?”

“They cut me off. I haven’t been in contact with them since they knew I was pregnant.” Her voice was soft and Harry pressed his lips together, giving her another squeeze, “And doesn’t your ex need to pay? For Atlas?”

Claire sighed out into his neck, “You’d think so. The lawyers are working on it because he refuses to pay. But those things take so long, I’m not even hopeful anymore I’ll ever see a dime.”

It made Harry hate him even more. He had heard little bits about Evan, Atlas’ dad, from Finn. Not much, nothing detailed, just that Atlas didn’t see him that much and that he lived in the area. Any piece of information that Harry found out, made his blood boil. He couldn’t understand how he wouldn’t make an effort to hang out with Atlas, who was such a fun little boy to be around. Harry found there was nothing more satisfying than watching his son grow up and he couldn’t imagine missing it for the life of him.

“Well, you can always ask me. I won’t question it.” Harry concluded and Claire sniffled, “Thank you.”

They stood embraced for another good few minutes until Claire untangled herself, “I’m fine.” She took a breath, through most of her crying as she shot Harry an unconvincing smile, “I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” He nodded.

***

Message from: Claire

He’s wearing boat shoes. I don’t know what to do.

Harry chuckled at the screen of his phone as Finn had his head laying in his lap. Atlas was curled up in the couch too, eyes glued to the screen as they were having another Friday movie night. And Claire was out on a date.

It was nearing November now, and their little deal had been going on for a few months. Claire didn’t go out every weekend, but at least every other weekend. And Harry took Atlas here for the night to hang out with Finn so she could go on her date.

It was safe to say that it usually wasn’t that big of a success. Claire would text him underneath the table about all the horrible things they’d say or do and then come here to pick up Atlas. It resulted in at least an hour of gossiping and laughing before she eventually left and he’d watch her drive off in the darkness of the night.

Message to: Claire.

What colour are they?

His phone soon buzzed with a response.

Message from: Claire.

Who cares!! We’re in the city, not on a fucking boat!

Harry laughed again, shaking his head to himself as he stroked his fingers through Finn’s hair. He had a book next to him but found himself almost more interested in the movie playing. Tangled. It wasn’t half bad, to be honest.

Harry hardly noticed it as Atlas crawled closer to him until bumping his head into Harry’s bicep. He glanced to his side to see the blonde-haired little boy with half-tired eyes, cuddled into a blanket.

Harry hesitated for a moment before opening his arm and Atlas didn’t wait a second, simply nuzzled into Harry’s side with a content sigh. Harry’s heart felt full, with Atlas cuddled into him on one side and Finn resting on his lap. He gently stroked his fingers over Atlas’ head and the boy melted into him even more. There was trust here, after weeks and weeks of spending time together. Atlas was incredible, Harry had come to find out. He was clever and witty, making Finn laugh louder than Harry had ever heard.

Atlas was definitely more on the mischievous side where Finn was rather timid and quiet, but they compensated the other very well. And had grown to be very close friends.

Harry’s phone buzzed softly.

Message from: Claire.

Okay, I’m out of here. He just asked how much I make a month and if I can get him free burgers.

Harry snorted softly and typed back.

Message to: Claire.

Yeah, sounds like your cue to leave. You can catch the final bit of the movie if you’re lucky.

The movie progressed and before Harry truly and well realized it, the three of them were dozed off on the couch. Only when he heard the soft footsteps in the house – after he had showed Claire where he kept the spare key – did his eyes blink open.

Claire watched him with an amused smile, eyes darting over Atlas and Finn who were both asleep on parts of his body.

“This is cute.” She whispered. Harry yawned softly, “Sorry, fell asleep.”

“I can see that.” She sat down on the couch next to Atlas and stroked his back, “Baby?”

Atlas nuzzled further into Harry and Claire shook her head with a smile, “He’s taking the moment to his advantage.”

“He can’t cuddle you like that?”

“No,” Claire exhaled, “hurts my boobs.”

Harry chuckled, “Right. So I take it the date wasn’t a success?”

“A big fat no.” Claire sighed, “God, where am I supposed to meet a decent guy these days. I swear, every app I have downloaded has only lead me to horrible evenings like this. Maybe I should just stay single forever.”

“Yeah, come over to the dark side. It’s fun here.” Harry joked and Claire leaned back in the couch. She wore a sundress with sleeves tonight, pushing it a little in these rather cold temperatures. But Harry had yet to see her in pants whenever she went on a date, it was always a dress.

“So boat shoes…” Harry mused and Claire groaned, “I know.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t flip-flops. Like that guy you went out with a few weeks back.”

“Am I supposed to see the silver lining here?”

Harry smiled and it was quiet for a moment, “You want a drink? Or some food?”

Claire yawned, “No, thanks. I think we’re just going to go home.”

“Really?” His voice jumped a little, “I mean,” Harry shrugged while clearing his throat, “you could stay a bit. Or sleep in the guest room with Atlas. He’s asleep anyway.”

“Harry,” Claire laughed, “I know we’re friends but we’re a bit too old for sleepovers, no?”

Friends.

Well, that hurt.

Harry didn’t protest when Claire gently woke Atlas up, who immediately cuddled into her instead. She kissed his forehead, “Wanna go home?”

“Mhm.” He sleepily responded. Claire picked him up, wincing a bit at the ache in her back. Atlas weighed a bit too much to still be carried by her, but he was too sleepy. Harry gently nudged Finn off, who didn’t wake and rested on a pillow instead, before he let Claire and Atlas out.

“Bye.” He waved in a whisper and Claire waved back once she put Atlas in the passenger seat, “Bye!”

Harry groaned to himself once Claire was out of sight. Friends. Friends. God damn it. He knew it. He had let it go on for too long and now he was friendzoned. He was literally her mum-friend, the one she gossiped to about other guys. Holy fuck.

Harry ran his palms over his face and sighed out, picking up Finn from the couch to carry him to bed and then go to sleep himself.

With the colder temperatures approaching, the next few weeks consisted of thicker clothes and spending less time outside. It got a bit harder for Harry to entertain the boys as they couldn’t go in the pool or play outside too much. It was basically waiting for snow now.

December just rolled in and Harry was sitting in his car, waiting for Finn to be done with school and to take him home. He used to always wait outside his car but it was too cold now, so he waited inside. His eyes scanned the street in search of Claire’s old Toyota. They had seen each other on Friday after she came back from another date, dressed in heels, stockings and a skirt. It was a cute look on her, accentuating her figure.

She said it wasn’t horrible this time but there wasn’t really a connection there, so it would stick to the one date. Harry hummed at that, and he couldn’t really say he minded all that much. He found himself looking forward to her texts, or the moments she’d come home after another disappointment of a date, spilling to him. Even if he was in the friend zone, it still cheered him up to see her.

Dare he say, it was the highlight of his week right now.

So he scanned the streets, not seeing her car. Not when the bell rang and the children were let out. Harry exited his car, a wide grin on his face as Finn ran over to him excitedly.

“Hi, m’love.” Harry crouched down to take Finn into a hug, spotting a blonde head of hair in the corner of his eye. He patted Finn on the shoulder, “Do we need to take Atlas home today?”

Finn shook his head, “No, he said someone’s picking him up.”

Harry frowned slightly, scanning the line of parents until he spotted Atlas, walking over to a girl with black hair and a cigarette between her fingers. She hardly paid him attention and his head was a little low. Soon enough, they made way to the bus station and disappeared from sight.

Harry refrained from texting Claire that night. It could be crossing a line, asking if she was okay. They had never really done that before and usually texted in a very casual way or to discuss picking up Atlas.

He didn’t see her the remainder of the week and it was nearing Christmas break now. Although Harry vowed to never pull his kid into this, he couldn’t help himself but question Finn on Friday.

“So… Are you sad that Atlas hasn’t been here all week?” He asked as they were having dinner, just the two of them.

Finn shrugged. He wasn’t a kid to speak out of line, which is why the poor-comment he made about Claire shocked Harry so much. He had raised Finn to be very polite and respectful. He had taught him that whenever a friend told him a secret, he were to keep it to build an keep the trust. It’s why he felt like guilty now, prying.

“He said it’s busy at home.” Finn answered and Harry flicked his eyes to him, “Busy?”

“Mhm.” Finn nodded, “With his mummy. He says she’s not feeling too well so he stays with her.”

Harry slowly nodded, “That’s nice of him.”

“It is.” Finn agreed.

Silence fell over the dinner table and Harry cringed at himself, unable to let the topic go, “Did Finn mention why Claire’s feeling a little poorly?”

Finn softly shrugged as he poked his food, “He says her face hurts.”

Harry near dropped his fork, stomach twisting in discomfort as he heard the words coming from Finn’s mouth. He softly cleared his throat, “Her face hurts?”

Finn was more interested in his food, simply nodding as he continued eating and Harry finally dropped it. He had a pretty clear idea as to why Claire’s face would hurt. He tightly gripped his fork, staring at his phone on the table in contemplation whether or not to text her. If it was crossing a line.

They had known each other for months now but never really dipped into that part of their friendship – as Claire would call it. Their talks were mostly playful or consisting of their children. They didn’t actually know much about one another on a personal level, they never had conversations like that and Harry wasn’t sure if this was pushing it or not.

So he left it at that. And a few days later, she reached out to him. Claire texted him, saying a guy asked her out on a date on Friday, asking him if it was okay if Atlas stayed the evening and if Harry had the time.

He responded faster than ever, immediately agreeing. Even though the idea that she was going on a date gnawed at him and he was searching high and low for the courage to ask her out himself – it still made his chest flutter that he was going to see her and talk to her.

The gnawing feel overpowered though, especially when he opened his door and she was there in a silk mini dress with tights and a dark purple loose cardigan over her shoulders to keep her warm. The cold was biting and even to drop Atlas off, Harry shortly invited her in.

Only when she was in the lights of the kitchen, could he take a decent look at her.

“Holy shit, what the hell happened to your face?” Was the first thing flying out of his mouth. Luckily for Harry, both Finn and Atlas were out of earshot. Claire exhaled and tilted her head to the side, “Is it really that obvious? I thought I covered it.”

She looked at him with big, round eyes. Her blonde hair was in soft waves laying over her back and all he could really see was the bruise on her cheekbone. He could tell it had faded and had gone towards a muted purple colour with hints of green. He could also see the layer of make-up she had put on over that.

“It’s… I mean, I can tell, yeah. It looks like a shadow.” He explained. Claire sighed, “Great. That guy’s gonna think I’m some crazy woman.”

“What happened?” Harry asked again. Claire took a moment and forced him a smile as she tried to busy herself with the strap of her bag, “Just me being clumsy.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “I don’t believe that for a second. Why did you have Belle pick up Atlas every single day this week?”

“Because I was working and couldn’t do it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged, “So? You could’ve asked me. Been doing it for the past few months with pleasure, so why relay on Belle again?”

“She asked, said she could use the money.” Claire shrugged and Harry huffed, “That doesn’t sound like you. Seems unlikely.”

“Yeah, I’m just that much of a bitch, aren’t I?” She responded bitterly, shaking her head to herself, “I don’t know what the big deal is. You got a week free of me and Atlas.”

“Didn’t ask for a week free of either you or Atlas. Neither did Finn.” It sounded like a dig, and Claire flicked her eyes up in shock of his words. They sounded venomous and angry, as if Finn had been unhappy this week without Atlas here in the evenings, and it was Claire’s fault. Harry continued, “Besides, I think the real reason wasn’t you being a nice person to Belle. I think the real reason was that you didn’t want me or Finn to see you with your face beaten up, which is why you hid all week.”

His voice softened and Claire’s stare hardened too. She inhaled a shaky breath, trying to recompose herself even if her heart was hammering violently and she could feel the lump in her throat.

“I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Harry.” She murmured, “If a person shows up with bruises and you have a feeling they’re not telling you the truth, there’s a reason for that. Don’t fucking pry it out of me like that, and why on earth do you even think you have the right or the audacity to do so? I don’t owe you any sort of explanation.”

He opened his mouth but she cut him off, “No, I don’t want to fucking hear it. You don’t get a free pass into my personal life just because my son likes you and we’re acquainted.”

It had gone from friends to acquaintances now. Harry felt the jab to his chest, knowing he had fucked up tremendously. Claire was breathing heavily as she sniffled once, “Now, I’m going to go on a date and attempt to enjoy it. I’ll see you later.” She strode past him and didn’t wait for Harry to let her out. The door slammed harshly until the pictures of Astrid and Finn on the walls rattled and Harry was left in silence.

He sat brooding that night. Checking his phone constantly for updates. Claire’s dates had never been this quiet. Usually she at least texted him when she arrived to let him know what the guy was wearing. There’d be texts throughout if her date said something disgusting or stupid, and at the end of the night to update him on if they had split the check or not.

It had been hours and there hadn’t been anything. With each buzz, he hastily grabbed his phone only to find it was either his mum or some notification of an e-mail he didn’t care for. His leg bobbed impatiently as he sat through another movie night with Finn and Atlas. And there was nothing that could take his mind off of things.

So when he had put the boys to bed and sat down on the couch again to check his phone, it was still empty. He drew up a message to send her but deleted it again, realizing his apologies would never come across through text while she was out with another man. He had to tell her in person, so he forced himself to stay awake.

Claire never came.

She never texted him, she simply never showed up. Harry stayed up for a few hours until midnight passed and then one in the morning, and then two in the morning. His lids felt droopy before he dragged himself to bed with the harsh realization that Claire was spending the night with her date.

He knew. She’d never go home to sleep by herself and leave Atlas here. She always picked him up. The only reason she wouldn’t pick him up, is if she was sleeping with him at his house or in a hotel room.

She was getting fucked, having sex, and Harry knew it.

The dates in the past hadn’t bothered him that much because they always ended up being assholes or losers and Claire was never truly interested in any of them. She never minded that there wasn’t a second date and simply kept swiping on Tinder until finding someone else.

In all the months they had been doing this, she had never spent the night with someone. It made Harry’s chest sink so deep that it hurt. It physically hurt, knowing she was with someone else. Who got to kiss her, touch her, smell her and taste her. Hear her, feel her, be inside of her.

His fists balled as he suddenly couldn’t catch sleep after that realization. He was so fucking jealous.

Harry hardly slept, but when his phone buzzed at around eight in the morning, he was wide awake.

Message from: Claire.

I’ll be there in like ten minutes.

He jolted up in bed and hastily went into the bathroom to freshen up and brush his teeth. Both boys were still asleep but Harry didn’t know for how long. He rushed down the stairs to be there for when she arrived, and like clockwork he heard gentle taps against the door.

He saw her and it only confirmed his suspicions. Her face was free of make-up and her hair was in a bun, but she was wearing the same clothes as the night before. The bruise was more prominent now with the absence of make-up, but what he could see was a fresh bruise. In the form of a lovebite at the base of her neck. It wasn’t that deep or dark, but he noticed straightaway.

Harry cleared his throat, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Claire mumbled, “Is Atlas up yet?”

“He’s not. D’you want to come in? I’ll make some coffee.”

Claire hesitated and eventually followed him inside of the familiar house. She sat down on the barstool she had been sitting in that first time she spent the day here and Harry had his back to her, working his coffee machine.

He swallowed through the lump in his throat, “So I take it you had a good date?”

“You could say that.” Claire breathed. Harry pressed his lips together, keeping his back to her. Claire cleared her throat, “We’re actually going out again next week.”

He turned around in lightning speed, “What?”

Claire blinked, “We’re going out again next week.” She repeated in a soft voice. Harry felt his fingers tightly gripping the countertop, “Like… like a second date?”

“Mhm.”

His knees weakened and he felt the stinging behind his lids, quickly turning around again to face the coffee machine, “That’s great.”

“It is.” Claire agreed, “He’s nice.”

They fell into silence and Harry poured her a cup of coffee as Claire drew a breath, “I can ask Belle, you know? To watch him. Next week.”

Harry immediately shook his head, “No way. Besides, it’s Christmas break. I’m sure Belle will want to do something else than babysit. And I don’t mind. We’re going to set up the tree, I’m sure Atlas will like that.”

“He will.” Claire nodded, “He’s been wanting a tree for a long time. We don’t have room in the apartment.”

Harry flicked his eyes to her, “Right.”

She forced him a smile and they fell into silence again. Harry realized he had never heard silence quite this fucking loud.

***

The week moved agonizingly slow. Claire showed up at school again, her bruise now faded. She picked up Atlas and shot a brief smile to Harry and Finn before spending the evening with her little man.

They cuddled and played board games, even some video games. It was always a task to entertain Atlas during school breaks. Claire couldn’t stay away from work so she usually organized camps for him or he spent a little more time with his father.

Not this time. Claire refused. She didn’t mind finding sitters and paying for them as long as Atlas didn’t spend any more time with Evan than absolutely necessary.

The had realized, after last weekend. After Atlas witnessed the abuse Evan put her through, that she would do everything in her power to keep him away. She wanted to give Evan a chance to be a father to Atlas, but he let him down over and over again. And mostly, Claire didn’t want Atlas to look up to Evan. And inherit some of his less nice qualities, like hitting women.

She couldn’t even imagine – and the thought made her sick – that Atlas would grow up to be like his father. It had resulted in more calls with her lawyer because she was getting slightly desperate for the money Evan owed her.

What had been taking her mind off things, was the prospect of her second date with Alexander. He had been an absolute sweetheart during their first date, so much so that Claire had felt butterflies. She opened up about Atlas and life as a single mum, and he was one of the first who didn’t laugh at her when she said she worked at Burger King. He noticed the bruise but didn’t ask her about it, besides wondering if she was in any pain.

She was, after a moment, from smiling so wide. So he gently kissed her at the end of the night and things got heated. Claire didn’t hesitate when he asked her to come to his apartment and they had spent a night between the sheets. Alexander had some stuff to learn, but Claire could be patient and guide him so he could learn how to satisfy her. She had searched high and low for an orgasm all night while giving him two, but it still didn’t mean it wasn’t fun.

Harry’s eyes had felt heavy on her when she went to drop Atlas off. Claire knew she looked good. She wore black again, a form-fitting dress to show off her curves with high heels to elevate her. She wore a bit of make-up but nothing too crazy and her hair was pinned back with a little butterfly clip.

His eyes had dragged up and down her form, boosting Claire’s confidence tremendously. She could see the heaviness in his eyes as they made a bit of polite small talk. She knew he was sorry about the way he spoke to her the week prior and she knew he didn’t like the fact she was going on a second date with Alexander.

She saw it in his stance, in his eyes. Jealousy. It was fine, Claire felt. Her and Harry did spent a lot of time together and even she’d feel a slight jab to her chest if he’d suddenly announce he was dating someone. In some stupid, crazy way it almost felt like they both had a claim on one another. But neither said anything and Claire wasn’t patient. Maybe she was taunting him, and part of her was. The dates in the past few months had all been disappointing and she expected the date with Alexander to be the same.

But he pleasantly surprised her and Claire had fun and felt seen. After the way Harry had spoken to her, it’s what she needed. And she couldn’t sit and wait around for him to figure out his feelings. She was moving on.

Moving on wasn’t easy though when your date doesn’t show up.

Claire looked like an idiot, sitting alone at the table in the restaurant. She checked her watch again, noticing Alexander was forty minutes late. She had double-checked their reservation to make sure she got the time and date right. She had texted him, called him, without answer. Her texts didn’t even go through, making her think he had her blocked.

She sipped slowly on her red wine until she had been there an hour, and she decided enough was enough. It was nine in the evening when she asked for the check to pay for her wine. The waiter shot her a sympathetic look that Claire brushed off, and she exited the restaurant.

Driving back to Harry’s house, she hadn’t notified him. She had only dropped Atlas off about an hour and a half ago and she suspected the three of them to just be sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

Claire shivered in the evening air as the had rang the door, hearing the familiar footsteps of Harry rushing over to the door before opening up with a frown. It softened at the sight of her. He hadn’t expected Claire here, an hour after she had left. The exciting glint she had in her eyes when leaving, was replaced by something he couldn’t really place.

“What happened?” He asked and Claire shrugged, fighting the embarrassed flush in her cheeks, “He stood me up.” She mumbled under her breath, “Can you grab Atlas? I really want to go home.”

“He stood you up?” Harry frowned, “What the fuck?”

Claire rolled her eyes, “Harry, it’s nothing. I’d just like to leave.”

“We’re in the middle of Monopoly.” He exhaled, “Look, just come in for a bit, you must be freezing.”

Claire hesitated. All she really wanted to do was go home with Atlas and cry in her shower before cuddling him to sleep. Harry opened the door wider, ushering her in, “Come on.”

And so she did. Her feet carried her into the house, met with the familiar warmth that Harry’s house exuded.

“Mummy!” Atlas sounded exited at the sight of his mother, jumping out of his chair to hug her. Claire smiled and kissed his forehead, “Hi, bub. ‘M back soon, aren’t I?”

Atlas giggled and jumped around, clearly very pleased with Claire joining the Monopoly-party.

“D’you want some tea? Or wine?” Harry offered.

“Wine.” Claire breathed immediately and Harry nodded, taking two glasses and filling them with some red wine as Finn and Atlas filled Claire in on how the game was going so far. She didn’t seem too in it with her head but nodded either way, quickly catching up on Harry’s strategy on losing on purpose to let either of the other boys win.

Claire followed along, playing without thinking and losing on purpose. Her wine was finished by the time Finn was crowned as the Monopoly-king.

As Finn and Atlas quickly settled down in front of the television, Claire and Harry were left to clear out the board game from the dinner table they had played at. Claire had put her hair up again with one of Harry’s pencils as they both tucked Monopoly back into the box.

“Some more wine?” Harry suggested. Claire exhaled and shook her head, “No, thanks, I still have to drive.”

“You’re not going home, are you?” Harry frowned, leaning against one of the chairs, “Claire, just stay here. You can sleep in the bed with Atlas. Or there’s even another guest room if you want.”

And Claire was too tired to argue. She timidly gave in and lifted her glass, “Well in that case… refill please.”

About an hour later, they had tucked their boys into bed. It was past their bedtime already but Harry and Claire agreed to cut them so slack since it was winter break and they didn’t have school for a few weeks.

“Do you want a shower? Or just some clothes of mine?”

“Just some clothes, please.” Claire responded, “’M a little cold.”

And so Harry gave her sweats, a shirt, a jumper and a pair of socks she could fit her feet in about three times. It looked a little ridiculous, but Harry had hearts in his eyes when she joined him on the sectional couch. She looked cuddly and soft, and her eyes were a little heavy from being tired and sad.

“Are you tired or do you want to watch a movie or something?” Harry asked as he popped his feet up on the coffee table. Claire was on the other side of the couch with a blanket around her, “Your couch is so comfortable, I’m probably going to fall asleep here.” She contently sighed, “Don’t even need a bed.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her nuzzle into the pillow. With her feet stretched his way, he gently tapped her shin, “How come you’re so tired?”

“’S just been a long week.” She sighed, “Arranging things with my boss for the winter break, so I can hire sitters throughout the day but can stay with Atlas at night.” She explained, “Don’t want him to spend his break with his father.”

Harry took a sip of his wine and softly exhaled, “Can I ask why not?”

Claire flicked her eyes up, appreciating the way Harry was more careful in asking her this time instead of how he approached the subject last time. She swallowed, “Well, he’s abusive.” She softly spoke, avoiding his eyes, “I don’t want Atlas around someone like him.”

“Would he hurt Atlas?” Harry frowned and Claire shrugged, “I don’t think so. But then again, I also didn’t think he’d ever hurt me.”

“He hit you, didn’t he? Two weeks ago?” Harry softly asked and Claire let out a breath, “Mhm.”

“Shit, Claire…” He cursed, shaking his head, “I’m so sorry.”

“’S not your fault.”

“No, I’m sorry for prying. I-I had a hunch and I should’ve just left it at that, it wasn’t fair of me.” Harry apologized, staring at his fingers before he lifted his head and turned to face her. Claire had a sad look on her face, “Just another thing added to the plate this week. His lawyer is literally such a dick. I just… I want this all to be over. To cut ties, to never have to see him again. But I also want Atlas to know his father.” She shrugged, “It’s hard.”

“I can imagine.” Harry sympathized, stroking his fingers over her covered shin. He licked his lip before continuing, “Were you two together for a long time?”

Claire sat up and hugged her legs to her body, her chin on her knee, ��Few years. I made some wrong friends in school and went through a phase. I used drugs sometimes, I drank a lot, I partied, dropped out of school… I met Evan during that time and was already on thin ice with my parents. I sort of moved in with him in this little studio. He was – uh… a dealer. And he used a lot. Sort of pulled me into that.” She softly explained.

Claire closed her eyes for a moment, “I even used when pregnant. I didn’t know I was pregnant for the longest time and just kept drinking and doing drugs, I-I had no idea.” She murmured and Harry’s heart cracked, watching her as she blinked away some tears, “It’s literally a miracle that Atlas was born and that he was completely fine.”

It was silent for a bit as Claire relived some memories in her brain. Harry turned to face her more, scooting a little closer on the couch, “Was he happy that you were pregnant?”

“Ecstatic, actually.” Claire mumbled, “He was so happy. Of course, he was high most of the time. When sober, he hardly acknowledged me. He was… very difficult to read. When he was high, he was super happy or the complete opposite. When he was sober, he barely showed any emotion at all.”

Claire took a breath, “The moment my parents knew I was pregnant, they cut me off completely. I haven’t been in contact with them ever since. So I moved in with Evan permanently. Neither of us had a job and he got money from dealing, but it was a dangerous life. He got threatened a lot and was always stressed, he worked that out on me. He hit me, always when he was high. I forgave him, I had nowhere to go.” She shrugged, shaking her head to herself, “It was difficult for a few years. When Atlas was around two, I finally got away. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

The television was softly playing in the background but neither Harry or Claire paid it any attention. She lifted her head to send him a weak smile, “I’m happy now. Atlas is amazing and I love him so much. It’s just… hard sometimes. I don’t want to have to deal with him anymore, it just brings back so many memories and he keeps thinking he’s got some claim over me.” She nibbled her lip, “Atlas goes to his place sometimes on a Saturday. Like… once a month or something. He never stays the night. Two weeks ago he went there and obviously shared stuff about his life. About Finn, about… you.”

“Shit.” Harry murmured and Claire hummed, “Yeah. Evan lost it. I went to pick up Atlas again and he freaked out, said I was… well, every name in the book, really. Doesn’t usually bother me, but Atlas was around a-and I fought back, told him to stop. He just – well, yeah.” She pointed to the faded bruise on her face and sniffed once, “And that’s that.”

“Atlas saw?” Harry whispered and Claire nodded, “Yep.”

“Holy fuck… that guy is insane.” He scooted a little closer again, “Claire, you need like a restraining order. And you need full custody.”

“I’m trying.” She sighed, “I swear, these things take so long. I’ve been trying for months now, years maybe. It’s really not easy.”

Harry exhaled, “No, I know. I know.”

“Do you…” Claire asked warily, “do you have full custody?”

“Mhm.” Harry shortly nodded, “Astrid voluntarily wrote away her rights. She wanted nothing to do with Finn or me, so it was an easy arrangement. It’s more difficult when both parties fight the other.”

Claire frowned, “She… She chose to not be a part of Finn’s life?”

He shortly cleared his throat, “Yeah. Astrid… she’s a complex person, Claire. ‘M not even really sure how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want.” She softly spoke and Harry shook his head, “I think we’re sharing traumas here and it’s only fair if I share mine.” He tried to make it sound like a joke, but there was heaviness in the air. Harry licked his lip, “We met when we were young and got married. Always wanted a family. It didn’t work for some time until Astrid got pregnant with Finn. From the moment she was pregnant I just… saw her change. It’s like she felt suffocated all of a sudden and only then realized how much her life was going to change as a mum. She did all these things, took all these trips spontaneously, like she was scared to be an adult all of a sudden. I sort of let her do her thing, figuring it was just what she needed at that point.”

Claire listened as Harry continued, “When he was born, it got even worse. It was like she resented him. We talked to therapists who brought up the whole postpartum depression thing, but Astrid said it was more than that. She didn’t want anything to do with Finn and actually tried to be as far away from him. Her motherly instincts never kicked in. She took off with her friends, took trips, partied and whatnot, always leaving me here with him. It was like she regressed back to her life in her early twenties. We hardly saw one another, she missed a lot of his first few years. She just didn’t want him. And then one day she just announced that she was leaving. Moving to some island to start over, signing away her rights and… she was gone. We got divorced easily and I’ve been a single parent ever since.”

“Wow.” Claire breathed, “That’s… so crazy. When was the last time you saw her?”

Harry scratched above his brow, “Probably… four years ago? I have no idea where she is right now, or what she’s doing. She’s completely messed it up for me, I don’t want anything to do with her ever again.” He sounded bitter and Claire shortly nodded, “Understandable.”

“It’s just like a sense of responsibility. I don’t know…” Harry mumbled, “We actively tried to have a baby, it’s not like it was a surprise.”

They fell into a silence until Harry exhaled and held up his glass, “Cheers to our exes.”

“Cheers.” Claire chuckled before shaking her head, “How sad are we.”

Harry took a sip, “We’re not sad.” He argued with a soft smile and Claire puffed out a breath, “I am. Can’t believe I got stood up. That was super embarrassing.”

“It’s honestly insane. He’s a fucking asshole.”

Claire pressed her lips together, “I mean, if he just wanted sex, he could’ve said so. I’m not stupid, like I get it. Just fucking tell me the truth and don’t string me along.”

Harry shot her a sly smile, “At least you got an orgasm out of it.”

“He did.” Claire corrected him in a shrug, her voice nothing but a gentle mumble. Harry looked at Claire over the rim of his glass, “Hm?” He wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly.

She nibbled her lip, avoiding his eyes as she let out a soft breath, “Well – he did. I didn’t – uh… he didn’t get me off.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Harry sounded in complete disbelief before throwing his head back with a laugh.

Claire blushed red in embarrassment and rolled her eyes, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Harry laughed, shaking his head, “Holy shit, I can’t believe this guy?! He didn’t even get you off and then has the nerve to ghost you?!”

She took another sip, “Well, yeah.”

“He’s literally such a dick, what the hell…” Harry mumbled, “So was he just like… bad or anything?”

Claire’s red cheeks didn’t disappear as Harry continued the subject and she let out a shuddery breath, “I mean, not really. Although actually, yes. He tried, I think.” The more Claire thought about it, the more she hesitated. Sighing out, she forced Harry a small smile, “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, though. Who the fuck does he think he is.”

Harry’s anger was sort of infectious and she felt the fire in her chest, “You know what? Yes. You’re right. It does matter. Because I pulled out all my tricks, you know? Even gave him head! He came twice!” She rambled and Harry’s eyes widened. Claire let out a sigh, “I just want – you know?” She used hand gestures now and Harry watched intently, “What?” He asked in confusion.

Claire put her glass of wine down on the coffee table with a slight slam, “I just want a fucking guy to just… grab me! Like – “ She pressed her lips together, “just someone to throw me around, have his fucking way with me, shut me up. Make it rough, you know?”

It was Harry’s turn to get red cheeks as he listened to Claire explaining her sexual desires. She seemed lost in her head, sighing again with tense shoulders, “And just claim me?! I don’t know, just like fucking take me and kiss me a-“

Claire couldn’t finish her sentence before feeling Harry’s lips on hers. He had lunged forward at her, near knocking her backwards as his mouth was on hers. Claire yelped in surprise at the short kiss. Harry was panting as he pulled back, only an inch or two. His wine-stained lips brushed hers.

“W-What are you doing?” Claire murmured.

“God, just shut up.” Harry groaned, watching Claire’s wide eyes as he grabbed her waist and yanked her body on top of his. Claire near flew through the air, gasping in surprise as she found herself perched up on Harry’s lap with her thighs on each side of his. Her chest heaved in shallow breaths, hands bracing herself on his shoulders as she stared down at him.

His eyes were dark and deep, lust dripping from him as he sinfully slipped his hands up her covered thighs. They stared at each other for just a moment before Harry grabbed the back of her head to pull her down and reconnect their lips.

A moan from Claire got muffled against his lips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders before moving into his hair, cupping his jaw and sliding into his neck. She touched wherever she could reach, feeling his strong arms wrapped around her form to keep her tightly pressed into his chest. A tug on her hips made her scoot up on his lip, her mouth parting at the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Fuck.” Claire moaned, pushing her tongue into Harry’s mouth. Claire reciprocating was something Harry could’ve only dreamed of. Everything she had been describing was exactly what he had been wanting to do for weeks now, but felt too unsure to do so. He didn’t want to scare her off, yet now he felt fucking unhinged.

The moment his fingers tugged at the jumper covering Claire’s body, she caught on. Her blonde hair flew around as they broke apart and she tugged it off, leaving her in one of his shirts.

“Fucking finally.” Claire moaned as Harry pulled her hips down on his and her head rolled back on her shoulders, “Please – oh god…” She was bucking back into him, hips sensually rocking in wave-like motions to stimulate him. Harry felt the heat radiating from her core, his head dropping back on the couch, “Jesus.” He hissed in bliss.

He lifted his head again, brushing his lips over her pulse-point, “Should we go to the bedroom?”

“Uh-huh.” Claire panted, “Please, I need you.”

A surge of confidence shot through Harry, “Yeah?”

Claire wrapped her fingers in his hair, “Yes.” She whispered, “So bad.”

Harry’s lips nipped on her neck, “Do you need me or do you just need to get fucked?”

“You.” Claire spoke without missing a beat, “Been wanting this for so long.”

Harry pulled back with surprise written all over his face, “What? Really?”

“Yes.” She chuckled. Harry frowned, “Why didn’t you say anything? I-I’ve liked you for months.”

“I know.”

His cheeks turned pink again and Claire smiled in amusement, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. Harry swallowed thickly, “Y-You know? And you never said or did anything? Kept going on dates with other guys?”

“Well, I could’ve been wrong.” Claire shrugged, “Didn’t want to make a fool of myself and ruin our arrangement or ruin anything for Atlas.”

Harry was about to say something but Claire beat him to it, biting her lip and brushing her hair over her shoulder. Harry’s eyes dropped to the faded lovebite on her neck and his throat tightened as Claire batted her lashes, “Besides, it was funny to see you a little jealous.”

“Played me, hm?” Harry growled, tangling a hand in her hair and Claire gasped at the tight hold he had on her scalp, pulling her to the side a little as his mouth latched onto the still existing hickey. Claire’s eyes rolled back, her hips bucking on their own accord as he deepened the bruise, claiming her. She was ruining her underwear, a sob stuck in her throat from how desperate she was and how badly she needed him.

“Still funny?” Harry licked over the fresh bruise, throbbing and angry purple to disturb Claire’s skin. His fingers dug into her hip, “Answer me.”

“F-Fuck, no.” Claire panted, “God, Harry, please.”

He pulled her hips again, dragging her up his growing cock as he exhaled a shaky sigh. Claire blinked her eyes open, somehow sensing his hesitance, “Are you okay?” She questioned softly, cupping his cheeks. Her nose bumped his and Harry puckered his lips for her to give him a gentle kiss.

“Yeah.” He rasped, “I might – uh… be a little rusty. ‘S been a while.”

Claire nodded, “Okay.”

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, “No, it’s like been… years.” He mumbled the last part, too embarrassed to actually say out loud. Claire froze on top of him, staring at his eyes which refused to look back at her, “Wait, are you serious? You haven’t had sex in years?”

“Yep.” He exhaled, “It’s, uh… well, I’ve been with women after Astrid, just not many. Had a few one night stands and it just… well, didn’t really do it for me. And I just stopped then, focussing completely on raising Finn and then it didn’t happen anymore.”

Claire was quiet for a moment, taking in the information before she nodded, “Okay, that makes sense. But you… masturbate?”

“Mhm.”

“And… do you want this?” She checked. Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Fuck, yes. Wanted this for weeks.”

“Weeks?”

He flicked his eyes up, “Months, actually.”

Claire kissed him, “Take me to bed, Harry.”

He didn’t hesitate, grabbing Claire underneath her thighs to pick her up. She was astounded at his strength. She had seen Harry shirtless by the pool and had seen him in shirts all the time with exposed arms. She had never witnessed him working out or anything, but he was strong enough to not blink while carrying her up the stairs.

“We’re gonna have to be quiet.” He murmured into her neck, “Don’t want to wake our boys.”

“Definitely not.” Claire agreed.

Harry’s foot kicked open the door of his bedroom, “What I meant is you’re going to have to be quiet.” He quipped with a sly smirk as he dropped Claire on the mattress. She watched him, standing at the foot of the bed to rip off his shirt and leave him topless. Claire’s thigh quivered at the sight of his muscular body and the many tattoos. His abs flexed as he moved and she was mesmerized.

Harry felt another boost of confidence at the hungry look in Claire’s eyes. She laid on her beck and he took her ankle, sliding off the huge sock he had given her before moving over to the other foot, “How do you want it?”

Claire wanted to moan. She tipped her head back with closed eyes, biting her lip, “Hard.” She whimpered, “Deep.”

Harry chuckled, “A little greedy, hm?”

After taking off her socks, he tugged at the leg holes of her sweatpants. Due to the size of the clothes, they easily slipped off of Claire’s hips and thighs, easy for Harry to take off. Every inch of her legs became visible to him, as did the red thong she was wearing. His mouth watered, chucking the sweatpants over his shoulders before climbing on top of her.

Claire parted her legs immediately, arms reaching out to pull him into her. She hungrily kissed him, tangling a hand back in his hair as her legs curled around his thighs to keep him close, close enough to feel him between her thighs. With the disappearance of her sweatpants, she felt him much more clear, rubbing against her pussy.

Harry was hard as a rock, so turned on by her and this moment and the way he had imagined this. He had never been the most spontaneous person – something Astrid loved to complain about – so it took him a lot of courage to just grab Claire and hope for the best. He didn’t want to scare her off or cross any boundaries, and somehow they didn’t really know each other on a level that he knew if this was all okay or not.

But the way she whimpered in his mouth and desperately pulled at him, was enough proof that she needed him badly. And according to her, it was him she needed. No one else.

Claire got impatient, reaching for his hand to bring it between them. She left it at that, handing the reigns over to Harry. His cheeks turned slightly pink and with their lips still brushing together in kisses, Harry nervously skimmed his fingers over the hem of Claire’s panties.

She shuddered, holding her breath, “God – Harry, get on with it.” She pleaded. His eyes closed with a guttural moan, slipping his fingers inside her underwear to stroke between her folds with the rough pads of them. Claire immediately squeaked and jumped in sensitivity of the touch and Harry latched his lips onto her neck again to silence himself.

His fingers moved up and down to feel her, underwear tenting around his hand as he felt her so wet and warm for him, it could make him cry. Slick, dripping pussy as Claire opened her legs wider to allow him more room. It spread her for him, letting his fingers graze over every ridge and bump she had until he settled the pads of his fingers on her clit.

She gasped desperately, her legs so tense and her entire body so worked up. She wasn’t sure if she was hurting him with the firm grip on his hair, but she needed something to ground herself. Arching her back up, she whined, “F-Fuck me. Please.”

Harry groaned again, a sound that went straight between Claire’s legs as he kept touching her clit. He rubbed circles to arouse her more, to get her all wet and open. Harry knew he was rather well-endowed and even though Claire had sex on a much more regular basis than him, it would be presumptuous to assume the guy who couldn’t get her off last week was anywhere near his size.

“Need to get you ready.” Harry mumbled into her neck, lifting his head and finding the strength to look in her eyes. It hit him like a sledgehammer, the look she sent him. Horny, desperate, near crying for him. Her eyes glazed over, her lips in an inviting, swollen pout and her cheeks flushed.

“I am.” Claire breathed out, “So ready. P-Please.”

Harry bit his lip, “’M not teasing you here, Claire. You’ll thank me for it.” At that, he grabbed one of her hands to guide it to his crotch, inviting her to touch him. Claire did so without hesitation, panting out as she fought with the elastic band of his boxers before finally getting her hand in. She paused immediately, eyes flicking up and widening dramatically, “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Harry smirked arrogantly, “Still think you’re ready?”

Her hand felt small around the girth of his erection, stroking curiously from thick base to swollen tip. If there was anything Harry knew, it was that he was fucking ready for her.

Claire let out a shuddery exhale as her head thudded back into the mattress, “Yes, please – I can’t wait. I need you.” She panted, restlessly writhing on the mattress, “I need you inside of me, I need it to hurt. I can take it.”

“Holy shit.” Harry cursed, bucking his hips into her hand. He stared at her, losing his sense of hesitation as he licked his lip, “You have to tell me if I need to stop, okay?”

“Uh-huh. Promise.”

“Good girl.” He whispered, removing his hand from in between her legs. He quickly brought the tips of his fingers to his mouth to get them clean, his tongue swirling around casually before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Claire was fucking dumbfounded.

Harry jumped off the bed, rummaging one of his drawers as she pushed herself up on her elbows, “Are you going to tie me up?” She sounded almost hopeful and Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “No, I like having your hands in my hair. ‘M looking for a condom.”

“Right.” Claire took it upon herself to slip out of the shirt she was wearing and then remove her underwear to leave her completely naked. She laid on Harry’s dark blue sheets, staring up at the beamed ceiling of his house as Harry grumbled under his breath, closing the drawer to open another, “Found it!” He cheered.

He turned around in triumph but his smile quickly dropped as he laid eyes on a naked Claire. His throat ran dry, seeing the length of her torso, the dips of her ribs and her chest. Full, firm tits and hardened nipples sitting up and waiting to be taken into his mouth. The stretchmarks on her thighs, the lines of her underwear denting her skin and some faded tan lines gracing her.

“So fucking beautiful.” Harry sighed, slowly walking over to her. The pace had slowed a little bit and was less frantic now as he stood at the edge of the bed, letting his eyes drag over her. Where Claire assumed she’d feel shy, she actually felt confident. Harry’s eyes studied her and he looked mesmerized. He wasn’t judging any part of her, he just wanted to see her.

Harry exhaled shakily and shook his head to himself, “Should’ve done this way sooner.”

“I would’ve let you.” Claire teased. Harry smirked slightly as he took it upon himself to open up the square foil of the condom. He dropped his boxers, Claire’s eyes widening and her mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock bobbing up and standing up tall.

“Oh my god.” She whimpered when he shortly stroked himself before fiddling with the condom. “Wait!” Claire squeaked. Harry paused and his brows raised, “What is it?”

Claire swallowed, her eyes glued to his erection, “I want to suck you off.”

“Fuck, no.” Harry breathed, shaking his head sternly as he rolled the condom down his shaft, “If you take me in your mouth, I’m gonna cum immediately.”

Claire wanted to protest but Harry was already hovering over her, knees kicking her legs apart to allow him room. Goosebumps rose over her body at his closeness, his nose continuously brushing into hers as he had one hand around his base to guide towards her.

“Still okay?” He whispered and Claire let out a soft moan, “Yes, yes.”

“Still think your little pussy can take me?”

Her eyes shot open as a tingle of arousal ran down her spine. She bucked up while biting down her lip, somehow not expecting Harry to say anything like that. Claire fought for air, “Yes.” She rasped again, “Please.”

The second she felt Harry’s blunt tip against her opening, Claire focussed on relaxing. She attempted to spread her legs wider for him, focussing on not tensing up any of her muscles as he held the eye contact. Both their mouths opened in a breathless whine as he pushed in. He felt her walls rippling around him, fighting the intrusion for a moment. Hesitation flashed over Claire’s face for a brief second until she breathed through it, her eyes rolling back as her head lolled to the side from the stretch.

“Fuck, you’re so wet and tight.” Harry lowly commented, taking his sweet time in inching forward to fill her up. Claire was panting, her nails digging into his back as she felt the burn between her thighs. He was everywhere, and he wasn’t even fully in yet. Harry paused for a few seconds before rocking in again to get deeper. Claire bit her lip with a high moan escaping her lips.

“Quiet.” Harry whispered, kissing her shortly. She nodded frantically, “I-I know, fuck – you’re so big.”

“You can take it.”

Claire arched, Harry holding onto her waist before sliding his hand up to play with her nipple. He cupped her breast, giving a squeeze before using his thumb to tease her. He used his other hand to grip the bedding, holding himself up on his elbow.

“Fuck.” He whimpered when he finally bottomed out. Harry relaxed slightly, feeling his hips flush to Claire’s thighs. His cock twitched inside of her, a tight fit between her snug, wet walls. She was panting underneath him, the sight so erotic. He couldn’t help himself when he let go of her breast and grabbed her throat instead, giving a light squeeze while kissing her.

He swallowed down her moans as he started moving, rearing back about halfway before rocking in again. He kept the pace slow and gentle for now to let her adjust, and their tongues roamed each other’s mouths in the meantime. Harry was sure to have marks down his back from her nails as Claire clawed at him.

“Okay?” Harry checked breathlessly as he brushed his lips over hers. “Yes.” Claire confirmed, “You can go harder.”

Harry sighed, “Thank god.” And then he picked up his pace and the strength of his thrusts. The breath got knocked out of Claire’s lungs with each drop of his hips on hers, nudging up a spot so deep inside it felt near unbearable yet she still wanted more.

Harry shifted his hips, scooting closer as his lips were on her neck and he buried his face in her throat. “God, you feel so good.” He moaned, “Such a fucking tight cunt for me.”

With the constant shifting in his position, it didn’t take Harry long to find her g-spot. Claire jolted up with a high whine the moment his tip brushed up her front wall, and her legs spasmed. He could feel her gushing slightly as her muscles clamped around him tightly.

“Oh my god!” Claire moaned, causing Harry to slap his hand right over her mouth, “Keep it down.” He hissed, holding his hand to muffle her moans. A tear escaped her eye as he kept pounding her into the mattress in a murderous pace, just like she had asked him to.

“Am I getting you close, baby?” He near taunted, sweat pearling at his hairline and a smirk gracing his pink lips at the sight of her wrecked state, “Already?” He added.

Claire managed to nod and he tutted her, “Good. Found your sweet spot, didn’t I? Right…” He brought his hips back before thrusting sharply, “there?”

Claire’s eyes rolled back as she shook uncontrollably, another wave of squirt wetting Harry, who moaned at the feeling and the sight, “Fuck yes, get wet on my cock, hm? Need you to cum for me, Claire. You fucking deserve it.” He put force behind his words and power into his hips, relentlessly fucking into her.

He kept his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, and Claire sobbed as she was on the edge. Harry thought about it. Teasing her, torturing her. But her eyes were watery, her nails denting his skin and her pussy so good for him. He allowed her to cum. With two more deep thrusts, Claire convulsed. A scream ripped through her chest, muffled by Harry’s hand as he fucked her through the orgasm. Claire’s legs clenched around him as she arched and writhed.

“’S good, that’s good.” Harry praised, kissing away her tears, “Fuck, that’s so good. Y’feel so fucking amazing, cumming on my cock like that. Such a good girl.”

Claire whined against his hand, her fingers curling around his wrist to pull at his arm. Harry let go, letting Claire desperately inhale the breath her lungs so badly needed. She coughed slightly from the gagging, wheezing in air as her body trembled in the aftermath of her orgasm. Harry’s thrusts had turned into gentle grinding motions, smirking down at her, “Feel good?”

“Oh my god.” Claire whimpered, still shuddering, “S-So good. Holy shit. I’ve never had an orgasm like that.”

They both slowed down a little, Harry’s cock painfully twitching inside of her. Claire blinked her eyes open, “Can you still keep going?”

“Mhm.” Harry swallowed, “Little more. I think I could get you to cum again.”

She smiled, biting her lip, “That would be great.”

He kissed her, smiling against her lips. His heart fluttered as she ran a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp a little. Harry hummed against her lips, still inside of her, “I’m afraid I’m obsessed with you.”

“Same.” Claire breathed back without a thought, her eyes exuding warmth and comfort as she stared up at him. A slight clench of her pussy brought Harry back to his mission of the night. Getting her off again.

Without warning, he lifted up on his arms and slid back, slipping from her. Claire gasped at the loss of contact, watching dazedly as Harry leaned down between her legs and his hot mouth was on her. “Oh! Oh my god." Claire breathed, hips jolting up as he licked at her, tongue wiggling between her pussy lips and up to her clit to give a harsh suck. Claire bit her lip, “H-Harry…” She moaned.

He hummed back, sliding the flat of his tongue up her cunt before sitting up again. He licked around his lips, tasting her before tapping her thigh, “Are you gonna ride me?”

Claire was still catching her breath as she swallowed, “I don���t think my legs work.”

Harry chuckled, biting his lip, “Won’t have to do anything. Just get on top of me.” He urged her and Claire nodded, letting him help her as they switched positions. Much like on the couch, Claire straddled him. The wet of her pussy pressed into the base of his cock, grinding softly as they indulged in another making-out session.

Harry held her hair back and had one hand on her ass, cupping the flesh and squeezing, urging her to grind into him. When he felt like Claire was too scared to fully sit down on him, he slapped her ass and she gasped, no longer holding herself up.

“So beautiful.” Harry whispered, head popped up on a few pillows as Claire hovered over him. They shared little kisses as he urged her hips up to sink down on him. “God – fuck.” Claire whimpered as she took him, slowly sitting down on his cock and feeling him in a different angle.

“Good, good.” Harry praised, his eyes closing as her warm cunt swallowed him, “So fucking good.” It sounded like a slur and both took a moment to adjust again.

“Hands behind your back.” Harry instructed in a strained voice, “Fuck, ‘m not gonna last long.”

Claire quickly obliged, depending on Harry’s arms to hold her a little upright. She was leaned completely over him, face hovering over his. Harry held one hand in the back of her neck with her hair in a makeshift ponytail, and held his other hand around her throat to keep her head tilted up.

With Claire’s arms behind her back, she was completely folded up for him and she loved it. She could feel her wetness seeping from her pussy, making a mess of Harry’s thighs. He didn’t seem to mind one bit, hardly paying it any attention before he started fucking up into her.

The position made Claire gasp, her body going lax for a moment before the pleasure consumed her and she let herself get used by Harry. He was so insanely deep like this, it was almost painful but in the best way. She’d be sore, for sure. She’d feel him for days, the way he stretched her and claimed her. God, it was everything she had craved.

“Holy shit – Claire,” Harry panted, “I need you to cum again.”

“Uh-huh.” She managed to choke out, “Please, it’s so good.” Her eyes watered again and Harry groaned softly, staring at her. They kissed again, his hand no longer on her throat but affectionately cupping her cheek as her tongue slipped into his mouth.

It was like he needed that moment before turning into a full animal. Holding both hands on the makeshift ponytail, he gave her a sharp tug to have her staring up at the ceiling. With Claire folded back in half and her hands still behind her back, Harry was relentless in the way his hips snapped up and his cock moved inside of her wet pussy.

“O-Oh god, Harry!” Claire squeaked, “I’m gonna cum. So hard, fuck.” Her words were jumbled and stuttering, her eyes tightly screwed shut as her second orgasm washed over her. She was quiet this time, unable to get out a sound or a word. Harry let go of her hair and Claire dropped her face in the crook of his neck, panting out desperately as she clenched and shuddered and convulsed around him.

Harry’s eyes rolled back at the feeling, “Shit, oh god.” He cursed, sliding both hands down to her ass to knead her and keep her firmly pressed to him. He grabbed the flesh, spreading her cheeks and rolling her back down onto him as he finished inside of the condom. He was sweaty and clammy, and Claire was sprawled out on top of him without the ability to move.

Both stayed like that for a moment. Claire shuddered every so often, her muscles tensing after two harsh orgasms as Harry was melted into the bed with her on top of him. They shared gentle caresses, his fingers dancing over her spine as she stroked her thumb over his jaw, “Wow.” Claire whispered after a few minutes.

Harry lazily smiled with his eyes closed, “Yeah. Wow. Shit, that was good.”

“Mhm.” She hummed and Harry sighed, “We should clean up a bit, hm? And go to sleep?”

Claire was yawning as she agreed, “Yes.”

Grabbing her hip, Harry gently nudged her off. Claire let him, no strength in her legs as she fell on the mattress next to him. Harry’s cock slipped out of her, softening up inside of the condom and he hissed in sensitivity as he got up and headed into the en-suite bathroom to clean up and dispose of the condom.

After washing his hands, he went to get Claire. He pulled her up, “C’mon, you need to pee.” He whispered. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, fully naked as Harry helped her into the bathroom and gave her the privacy to use the toilet.

Both brushed their teeth after that and collapsed in the bed. No words were spoken when Harry pulled Claire into his side for her head to rest on his chest and her arms to wrap around him. He cuddled her back, brushing his lips over her forehead, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She whispered back, giving one more kiss to his neck before falling asleep.

Harry feared that it might be awkward in the morning, waking up with Claire after that. But it wasn’t. If anything, his heart soared as he was woken up with kisses to his chest, leading up to his neck and his jaw as her hand stroked over his side.

He shortly squeezed her body, eyes still closed, “Hey.” He rasped. Claire smiled into his neck, her leg hooked over his hips, “Hi, good morning.”

He kept his eyes closed as he lazily rolled around with her, changing the position until he was cuddled into her side with his face in her neck, “What time is it?”

“The sun’s coming up.” Claire responded in a whisper. Harry’s arms were around her and he inhaled her scent, puckering his lips, “Hmm.”

“Think we woke anyone last night?”

His lips curled into a soft smirk, remembering every second as he let out a breath, “Don’t think so, no. How are you feeling?”

“Good.” Claire whispered, shifting a little in his hold until she cupped his jaw. Harry’s eyes opened as he felt her kissing him, a few gentle pecks placed on his lips. He smiled involuntary, staring at Claire who looked giddy and sparkly in the morning.

“This is a nice way to wake up.” He whispered and she hummed, “It sure is.” They were in silence for a bit until Claire took a breath, “So what’s usually for breakfast on Saturdays?”

“Pancakes.” Harry yawned. He gently squeezed her waist, “Wanna help me?”

About ten minutes later, they were in the kitchen. Claire was dressed in her underwear and just a shirt of Harry’s, reaching well over her ass while they roamed around the kitchen to get everything for the pancakes and stealing kisses in between. Harry could hardly focus on the stupid pancakes, constantly having his hands on her and hiking up the shirt to get a peek of what was underneath.

“Harry.” Claire giggled, “The boys will be up soon.”

He stood behind her, pushing her into the countertop a little as his fingers toyed with the hem of the shirt. His lips were on her neck from behind, “We’ll hear.” He whispered, “Just a quickie.”

Claire didn’t say anything, and Harry felt her giving in as she relaxed. He smirked into her neck, “So good for me.” He murmured lowly, bunching the shirt up around her waist. He pulled back a little to stare at her ass, covered by the thin band of lace of the red thong. He bit his lip, grazing his thumb over the fabric, “Let me get a condom.” He whispered.

She whined in protest, grabbing his wrist to keep him right where he was, “No, fuck that. Just do me.” She sighed, “Fuck me bare. I wanna feel you.”

Harry groaned, not needing more convincing than that. He was quick, hooking her thong to the side and pushing his sweats down. He spat down into his hand to lube himself up, guiding between her ass cheeks to find her weeping pussy. Claire leaned over the countertop a bit more to make it easier, and Harry pushed in slowly again.

He watched, the way her fingers gripped around the edge of the countertop, the way her back tensed at the intrusion, the way her head dropped and the way her legs trembled as he entered her again.

“Are you sore?” He whispered, urging her to stand up straighter again so he could wrap his arms around her. They slipped underneath the shirt, palming her tits as Claire leaned her head back on his shoulder, “A bit, but it’s so okay.” She responded. Harry hummed, nipping on her neck as he started fucking her. He was sensitive, early in the morning. His cock was painfully hard and he sighed in bliss of being inside of her again.

The kitchen was silent apart from the steady ticking of the clock and the faint sound of a car driving by every once in a while. They breathed sharply and heavily, but both kept their moans down. The only other thing that could be heard was the sound of Harry’s hips slapping into her ass, fucking her from behind.

It didn’t feel like enough anymore, and after a few minutes he slipped out to turn her around. Grabbing her thighs, Harry easily lifted Claire up on the countertop, lips hovering over one another as he pushed in again. His cock shone in the slick of her arousal, easily sinking back into her pussy as she sat up at the perfect height.

He held one hand on her thigh, hiking it up over his hips as he fucked her quickly and sharp. “Fuck.” Harry choked out a whisper, tugging Claire to the edge to get deeper. She leaned back on one palm, watching him intently as Harry fucked her for his own pleasure. She didn’t mind. Claire was too sore and tired to reach an orgasm, but watching Harry as he neared his own end, was mesmerizing.

No words were spoken, but his jaw went slack and he buried himself deep inside of her when finishing. As Harry felt like he was unable to keep his moans down, he desperately kissed her, spurts of his cum filling Claire on an early, lazy Saturday morning in the kitchen. His fingers dented her hips as his orgasm seemed endless, fucking her bare. She felt amazing and he hadn’t expected anything less.

Both were panting as the ringing in Harry’s ears subsided. He relaxed a little, unclenching his muscles as he stroked up Claire’s sides, “Shit, you didn’t cum.” He panted out. She hummed, “That’s okay. You can make it up to me later.”

He breathed out a chuckle, it quickly disappearing as he heard a door upstairs. Claire’s eyes widened and Harry glanced around to reach for tissues. He slipped out of her, using the tissues to clean up any spilling of his cum. In an ideal world, he’d watch intently as it oozed out of her swollen cunt, possibly use his mouth on her decently this time.

But they didn’t have time. Footsteps from upstairs hurried down the stairs and he heard the giggling of two little boys as Claire hurried into the downstairs bathroom to clean up and get decent. Harry washed his hands and used a clean cloth to wipe down the countertop.

By the time Claire returned from the bathroom, the sight in front of her warmed her heart. Harry was playing around in the kitchen with Atlas and Finn. And everything just felt so normal. She walked up behind him as he stirred the pancake batter. It didn’t feel weird when she wrapped her arms around his form and pressed a kiss to his clothed shoulder, “Can we stay for breakfast?”

Harry glanced at her over his shoulder, seeing the softness in her eyes. He smiled and reached back further to bump his nose into hers, “You can stay forever.”

//

#alisonfelix #writers on tumblr #wattpad #writing #fanfiction #one direction #1dff #hs #harrystyles #harrystylesfanfiction #hsau #hs au #harry styles au #smutwarning #harry styles one shot #smutoneshot #hsoneshot #harrystylesoneshot #hsfanfic #hssmuttyfanfic #harrystylessmuttyfanfic

[velaryon-seahores]

Eclipsed Love Part II.

Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Fem!reader ( Modern au )

synopsis : You and Aemond shared a romantic bond during your high school years. However, your relationship took a turn when an unexpected pregnancy altered the dynamics. Aemond, driven by aspirations of pursuing a career in medicine, struggled to reconcile his dreams with the newfound responsibilities. Meanwhile, the financial constraints and fear of revealing the situation to your strict parents left you without options, making abortion unattainable. When Aemond chose to end the relationship, you made the difficult decision to vanish, seeking a fresh start. Years later, your son fell seriously ill, necessitating medical attention. The twist in the tale was that the doctor who held the key to your son's recovery happened to be none other than his biological father, Aemond.

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort. Literally that’s it.

Word count : 3.9k

A/n : comments likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!❤️

This chapter was superrrrrrrrr long I had to split it into two, this might be a boring chapter because Unfortunately I had to cut out the important scene but bare with me, I promise we will have grays anatomy type of drama

Part I Part III

Stabbed in the heart.

As you laid eyes on him and his voice reached your ears, it felt like a sharp dagger had been plunged into your heart.

Across the passing years, you toiled ceaselessly to mend the pain he had sown within you. Each effort, a step toward stitching the wounds he had inflicted, aiming to stride forward. But in a mere heartbeat, his very presence shattered it all. Your hand instinctively found your chest, fingers cradling the pieces of your broken heart, keeping them from falling apart.

And right then, a wave of understanding washed over you – the truth hit home with stunning clarity. You saw, as if for the first time, that your wounds had never fully healed, that the notion of moving on was a fragile illusion. Here, tears tracing a familiar path down your cheeks, you stood in that bathroom, a parallel to the sixteen-year-old you, the girl whose heart he shattered.

Oh, the heartlessness of fate, forcing you to revisit the day that haunted your fears, compelling you to endure once more the darkest hours of your existence. It was the day when dreams crumbled into dust, love turned into ashes, and you were never the same again.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as your gaze met its reflection in the mirror. Qoren's knocks at the door, your tears falling, Aemond as their cause – the scene was hauntingly familiar. Too familiar.

How cruel fate is for making you repeat the scenario.

How cruel.

Ten years ago..

During lunch break, you stood alone behind the school walls. In the same spot you and Aemond would usually meet to have some passionate sex session, but now you anxiously waited for Aemond, your hands tightly clenched in fear.

A hand embraced you, pulling you close against a firm chest. "Already missing me?"

Aemond.

A quivering exhale escaped your lips, carrying with it the weight of your emotions, as you turned gracefully into his embrace, enveloped by the security of his arms with your head buried in his warm chest.

“ Hey baby.. what’s wrong?” He asked as he pulled you away from him, cupping your face in his large hands to look at you “ What’s wrong!”

Tears flowed freely, your sobs becoming a river of emotions. Aemond pulled you into his embrace once more, holding you close and gently cradling your head as he hushed your cries. "Y/n, love, please tell me. What's happened? Talk to me."

With trembling lips, you managed to speak amidst the tears. "I... I'm pregnant."

You felt his hand go still, and you could sense him holding his breath as the weight of your words sank in. "What?" His voice was a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes, you saw his expression transform into one of horror and disbelief. "I'm pregnant," you repeated, your voice quivering.

"How?" The word escaped his lips, laden with a sense of disbelief and confusion.

Your voice was strained as you recounted the events leading up to this moment. "Your brother, Aegon's party," you explained, your voice catching as you relived the memory. "We were drunk, and you forgot to wear a condom... I think I forgot to take the pill."

Aemond's grip on you seemed to loosen, his hand slipping into his hair as his distress became evident. "My parents are going to kill me if they find out, Aemond! My mother... she noticed it before me, and she's going to take me to the ob—"

"Get rid of it," he interrupted sharply, his tone cutting through the air with a firmness you had never heard before, catching you off guard.

You tried to explain, your voice strained with fear and anxiety. "You know that my family only gives me a strict amount of money! And... I'm scared to have an abortion at home—"

"What do you want me to do?" His tone grew a little louder, causing you to flinch.

"Aemond!" You looked at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes. Why was he reacting this way? "My mother is taking me to the doctor tomorrow morning! She won't even let me go to school! You know how they view the whole 'being pregnant before marriage' thing."

Desperation filled your gaze as you took his hand in yours, holding it tightly. "Just lie to them! Tell them we'll get married after sch—"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He took steps back from you, his voice rising. "I'm not getting married. I'm still young."

"And you won't! I said just lie." You pleaded with your eyes, hoping he would understand. "Just until they forget abo—"

"I'm not raising kids," he interrupted once again, his tone unwavering. "I applied for college just a week ago! I need to focus on my studies, I need to focus on my dreams. I don't have time to look after a fucking child. I've worked hard for this, and I'm not dropping anything in my last fucking year." He glared at you. "Get rid of it. I don't care how, just... get rid of it and don’t talk to me until you do so!" And with that, he walked away.

You had held onto the hope that he would console you, reassure you that everything would be alright. But instead, his departure left you with a sense of vulnerability and pain. The person who had vowed to stand by you had vanished when you needed him most. The person who drew stars around every scar you had, left you to bleed, alone.

Your sweet Aemond left you with a bigger scar. A scar that you weren’t sure if the stars would heal.

An hour ticked by, and you remained rooted in the same place, tears flowing freely, unchecked. Uncertainty gripped you; you felt lost. The thought of your parents discovering the truth filled you with dread. Their strict beliefs would likely lead them to demand that you keep the baby, only to give it away or face disownment. It was a future you didn't want. The idea of nurturing this life within you, only to have it taken away, was agonizing.

In the end, you sought refuge in the school bathroom, seeking the seclusion of one of the stalls. There, you let your tears flow, a torrent of emotions consuming you. It was only when your friend Qoren broke through the door that you found a lifeline, pulling you out of the depths of your despair.

"Y/n, don't make me break this door!" Qoren's voice echoed urgently, and an unexpected laughter bubbled out of you.

Wiping away your tears, you gazed at your reflection in the mirror for a brief moment, collecting yourself. You knew you had to bury these overwhelming emotions; you had no other choice. Your son's health was fragile; his heart was weak, and the last thing you wanted was to stress him. Protecting him from worry was paramount.

Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, finding solace in the whispered reassurance you offered yourself. "I'm okay," you murmured, a quiet mantra, like a promise to both yourself and your sweet child.

You had intended to linger a bit longer, hoping to regain your composure, but as soon as you heard Luke's voice behind the door, an urgency propelled you to open it without delay.

"Mom! What happened? Are you okay?" Luke's worry spilled out as the door swung open. Your gaze flickered to Qoren first, who extended his hand to you immediately, guiding you out of the bathroom.

Glancing upwards, your eyes met Qoren's, his subtle shake of the head conveying a shared understanding.

"It's because of the doctor, is it not?" Luke's earnest eyes held yours once more.

Your breath caught in your throat as you formulated a response, the urge to shield your son from unease overpowering. "No, sweetheart, not because of that," you lied, masking your true emotions. "I'm just worried about you."

Unconvinced, Luke continued to study you. "I don't believe you."

Your reassurances faltered, and you stood, gently taking his small hand in yours, guiding him back to the bed. "It's true," you insisted, your voice bearing the weight of your sincerity. "He's a specialist, a heart surgeon. I've heard he only takes on serious cases, and it made me anxious."

"But I'm fine," Luke's voice held a note of certainty as he reassured you, his hand reaching out to clasp yours.

"We know, buddy," Qoren's presence offered additional comfort as he stood beside you, his arm enveloping your shoulders in a gesture of support. "But we still worry about you."

"Why did he walk away?"

"Perhaps he forgot something," you suggested.

"Yeah, like his stethoscope or something," Qoren added.

Luke surveyed the two of you for a contemplative moment before finally nodding.

Unable to resist the urge, you showered Luke's head with affectionate kisses before enveloping him in a tight embrace. "Hungry?" you inquired gently.

His next request pulled at your heartstrings. "Can I have a turkey sandwich?"

A soft chuckle escaped you, warmth filling your eyes. "Of course."

Glancing at Qoren, you exchanged a silent understanding, and with a nod, you indicated for him to step outside with you.

"I'll check with the doctor while you go grab something to eat from the cafeteria," Qoren suggested, his gaze on Luke. "Is it all right if you stays here alone for a little while?"

"Sure," Luke replied, his attention already shifting back to his iPad.

As you and Qoren stepped out, the door closing behind you, your apprehension spilled forth. "I don't want that fucker anywhere near my son," your voice was tense, carrying a hint of urgency that made Qoren look around nervously.

"We'll find another doctor," Qoren's voice was a soothing balm, his reassurance gentle. "There must be more skilled surgeons available. If you wish, we can even consider transferring him to another hospital. My father knows good doctors in Essos; we can explore that option. And please, don't worry about expenses—I'll take care of it all."

Gratitude swelled within you, your eyes misting over. He drew you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Come, let's go talk to the doctor," he urged softly.

Half an hour had slipped by, and Aemond remained confined within the hospital, in the bathroom in the surgeon's lounge. He couldn't bring himself to move, his body shaking too much to even get to his car and drive home. He sat on the bathroom floor, waiting anxiously for his sister Helaena to pick up the phone.

You…He saw you.

There you stood, a presence that seemed to pierce through his very being. The girl who had plagued his dreams, who had woven herself into every conscious moment and every corner of his mind. The girl he had fervently tried to erase, burying himself in the pages of books and the rigors of surgeries. For a decade, he had scoured the realms of social media, reached out to your parents, and maintained contact with your friends in the hopes of catching a glimpse of your existence. And now, here you were, finally in front of him. But he chose to walk away once more.

In truth, he had no choice but to leave. He couldn't ignore the pain etched in your eyes, the anger that radiated from you. He couldn't deny the depths of hurt that he had caused, nor could he offer any words that could possibly erase or atone for his actions.

Stupid Aemond... Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Regret and self-loathing coursed through his thoughts, a relentless self-critique that echoed within him. He recognized the depth of his mistake, the gravity of his choices. As he remained perched on the bathroom floor, he grappled with the weight of his own shortcomings, the realization of the missed opportunities and the pain he had caused.

Finally, as if an eternity had passed, Helaena's voice broke through the silence.

"What... What the hell do you w—gods, Aemond, are you crying?" Her voice trembled, faltering as it caught the rawness in his.

"...She's here..." Aemond's voice quivered, his words trembling on the precipice of his emotions. His eyes, blurred by the veil of his tears, bore a weight that seemed almost unbearable. "She... She's here, Helaena. I... I have a son."

There was a pause, a momentary silence on the other end of the line, as the gravity of his words began to unfurl. And then Helaena's voice, tinged with disbelief, spoke into his anguish. "Wait, wait, are you talking about... y/n?" Her words carried a mixture of confusion and shock. "She was in Dorne this whole ti—YOU HAVE A SON!"

Aemond's heart ached, a complex fusion of emotions waging a tempest within him. "I... She told me she had an abortion! She... She said she went through with it!" His grip on the phone faltered, and it tumbled from his hand to the floor, an emblem of his shattered resolve. "That was the last thing she said before she blocked me and disappeared."

The words hung heavily between them, a tapestry of regret and longing, of mistakes and missed chances. And then, Aemond's voice quivered with a tremor that seemed to encapsulate a lifetime of ache. "I know, Helaena. He's mine." His voice wavered, and in those words, a world of heartache was painted.

“ How do you know ?”

"He... He has my eyes, Helaena... purple eyes, just like mine. And his hair... He has our mother curls and a hint of silver “ The lump in his throat threatened to suffocate him, his words trembling on the brink of despair. "His nose, his lips... They're like mine."

But then, the dam broke. Aemond's voice cracked, and he was consumed by a tidal wave of sobs. "And he probably hates me... Just like I despised my father. Maybe he looks at me the way we once looked at Viserys."

In response, Helaena's voice was a soft anchor amidst the tumultuous sea of emotions. "You are not him, Aemond. You couldn't have known."

"I did," Aemond's voice quivered, his palm pressing against his chest as though to contain the shards of his own heart from shattering. "I knew... And yet, I asked her to get rid of him... I'm worse than Viserys."

"Have you talked to her?" Helaena's voice was a whisper, a thread of hope laced with a touch of reproach.

"No... I ran away," his admission was a painful whisper, an admission of his own inadequacy.

"Aemond..." Disappointment laced her voice, a mirror to the disappointment he felt in himself.

"What am I supposed to do?" The question held a pang of helplessness, a plea that seemed to stretch beyond the confines of words. "No matter what I say, it won't change anything. No matter what I do, I can't erase my past. I can't undo what's been done. I can't bring back y/n."

Helaena's response was a bittersweet echo, a reflection of truth and reconciliation. "You're right. You can't undo the past, and you won't get her back. But grant her the peace of mind by letting her know that you have suffered. Tell her you regret everything, that every breath is a reminder of the choices that drove her away. Tell her you're miserable, that life has lost its meaning, that the ambition you sought so tirelessly now rings hollow. She lost so much, Aemond. Her family, her dreams, her stability... she bore the weight of your absence alone. You won't get y/n, but you can at least do right by her ."

The dam within Aemond burst, his voice muffled by sobs"But I want her back. I want her to look at me again with those eyes that once held love."

There was a poignant pause "I'm afraid that won't happen, Aemond," her voice held a gentle sorrow, a reflection of the choices that had led them here. "You brought this upon yourself."

"Then what do I do, Helaena?" His voice was a fragile whisper, an echo of his vulnerability in its purest form. "Tell me, please."

"Go find her," her voice held a quiet resolve, a beacon of guidance through the haze of his pain. "Do what I told you. I'll book a flight, be with you in a few hours."

“Please hurry," Aemond's voice quivered with plea "Please, I need you."

"Gather yourself, Aemond," her voice was an anchor, a lifeline he desperately clung to. "Wash your face, and go."

And as the call ended, he was left alone with his shattered heart, the burden of his mistakes weighing heavily upon him. Struggling to his feet, Aemond rose from the cold bathroom floor, his hand clutching the sink for support. He gripped the faucet and let the frigid water flow, splashing it onto his face again and again in a desperate attempt to snap himself out of his overwhelming state. His gaze lingered on his own reflection in the mirror for a few moments, as if searching for answers that remained just out of reach.

With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the sink, leaving the lounge and heading towards his son room.

Standing behind lucerys room, Aemond gently knocked the door, his hand trembling and so is his breath and legs. Withe shakuy hand ge reach for the door handle and open it.

The room was empty, only his son in inside, Lucerys was looking at him up and down.

“ H..Hello, young man “ his lips trembled with each word leaving his mouth “ Where is your mother?”

Lucerys expression were that of disgust, but then he immediately turned them to neutral “ Cafeteria “

“ And.. and your ..father?” Those words that he forced out of his lips cuts him deep.

“ He was supposed to talk to you “ Lucerys let go of his ipad and flooded his arms in front of him.

“ Me?”

“ Yes you, aren’t you my heart doctor ? “ Lucerys raised his brows.

“ Ah. He must went to the pediatrician. And there has been some changes, so I’m not your doctor anymore “

Lucerys humm and looked him up and down before returning back to his ipad “ you should leave then “

Aemond looked at him for few minutes, swallowing thickly “ I .. Can I check on your heart ?”

“ sure “

Aemond nodded and hesitantly walked towards him, he got out his stethoscope and listened to his heart beat, it was irregular but there was no crackling sound so he was okay for now.

He then looked at his ancle and there was no swelling so he was safe and the danger of heart failure was not high.

“ You are fine, your heart is stable for now “ Aemond sadly smiled “ You will be alright “

Lucerys didn’t respond, he just put on his headphones and gave him a quick fake smile before paying attention to his ipad.

He took a step toward the door, a faint smile playing on his lips as he contemplated how much Lucerys resembled his uncle, Aegon. But as he moved to leave, something froze him in his tracks. His head snapped back toward the sound, eyes widening, and his throat tightened painfully.

"Qogralbar ao kepa, kirimvogon Jaes ziry geptot ao." ( Fuck you dad, thank god she left you )

Aemond turned back to face Lucerys, his expression a mix of shock and realization. His throat constricted, and his lips parted, but no words came forth.

"I’m not stupid, I have eyes and I can see the resemblance, I knew you looked familiar. Plus my mom’s behavior confirmed it all to me, crying over a silver head with eyes that look like mine? can’t she be more obvious. Not to mention that she is a terrible liar ” Luke shook and looked out the window for few minutes, “ You made her cry earlier, and if she sees you, she might cry again," his voice laced with determination as he returned to look at him "And I..." luke tilted his head, his young eyes locked onto Aemond's. "Don't like to see my mother cry. So get the fuck out and don’t you ever bother her again "

Aemond's heart weighed heavier than it ever had before, burdened by a sadness he had never known. His worst fears had materialized before him, unfolding like a nightmare he couldn't escape. In the story of Lucerys's life, he was cast as Viserys, and you, y/n, had become the haunting reflection of his own mother, Alicent. The parallels were undeniable, a stark reminder that history had a cruel way of repeating itself.

Yet, he knew, deep within, that he was not his father. He was not the same. He might not be able to win you back, but he was determined to be unlike the man who had hurt him and countless others. Just as Helaena had advised, he would give you the peace of mind you deserved, something his own mother had never found, not even in Viserys's final moments.

His voice trembled with regret as he whispered to Lucerys, "I'm sorry, kid. Forgive me." With those words, he left the room, his heart heavy with the weight of his past mistakes, and headed toward the cafeteria, where he would seek you out, hoping for a chance to make amends, even if he couldn't turn back time or erase his transgressions.

You stood in line at the bustling cafeteria, surrounded by a cacophony of chatter, clinking dishes, and the soft hum of refrigeration units. Your mind weighed heavily with the day's decisions, the uncertainty of your son's health, and the resurgence of someone you'd hoped to forget.

After leaving the doctor's office, you had meticulously sifted through profiles and recommendations until you found a new physician for Luke—Doctor Arthur Dayne. His impressive track record and friendly demeanor had reassured you.

Qoren had volunteered to stay behind, intent on gathering all necessary details about potential surgeries or treatments. It was a relief to know you had a friend who would shoulder some of the weight while you ventured to fetch a turkey sandwich for Luke.

Thoughts swirled like a tempest in your mind—Luke's health and the shadow it cast over his future, the practicalities of appointments and treatments, and, looming above all else, his fucking father.

the lady at the cafeteria counter snapped you out of your reverie with a cheery, "Hello, ma'am."

You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before responding, "Hi." Your voice carried a hint of distraction as you glanced at the menu. "I'll have a turkey sandwich, please. And could you cut it in half? Make one of them small."

The cafeteria worker nodded with practiced ease, jotting down your order before turning to assemble it.

You offered a small, reflexive smile but couldn't shake the heaviness that lingered within you. It was a weight you'd grown accustomed to, the burden of being a single parent facing life's uncertainties head-on.

While you waited, you couldn't help but contemplate your own well-being. You'd started to consider seeking therapy, recognizing that burying your feelings wouldn't help. You needed a way to express them, process the trauma, and find a path to healing.

"Here you go!" The cafeteria worker presented you with the bag, accompanied by a warm smile that momentarily lifted your spirits.

You reached into your purse to retrieve your wallet,"Thank you," you offered,

With your wallet safely back in your purse, you turned your attention to making your way through the cafeteria, eager to reunite with Luke. But as you moved, you accidentally bumped into a solid, warm form.

Looking up to apologize, your words caught in your throat as you realized who stood before you….

" Why did you tell me you had an abortion ? "

Taglist :

@namelesslosers @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @fernanda-reads @moonlightazriel @topaz125 @justrybca @girlwith-thepearlearring @anehkael @teamstorybooks @riseandreigns4u @noemienakamoto @lijeno @watercolorskyy @afro-hispwriter @khaleesihel @praline357 @fantasticpeaceharmony @brianochka @sweethoneyblossom1 @happinessinthebeing @snh96 @heavenly1927 @zenka69 @toodlesxcuddles @lunamoonbby @blairfox04 @multiple-fandoms-girl @tsujifreya @tempo-rary-fix @lipgloss05 @carriellie @dc-marvel-girl96 @fan-goddess @strangersunghoon @daenerysqueenofhearts @notnormalthings-blog @bluevxnus @Littlelilly27-blog

@misspascalpunk @exitpursuedbyavulcan @saminalloxo @trshngyn @docmartinis @drmeghanjones

My apologies if I forgot anyone.

— Next chapter we have a FIGHT

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen angst #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen fanfic #prince aemond #modern aemond #hotd au #aemond au #modern helaena #helaena targaryen

[steddieas-shegoes]

so glad i found you

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is coparenting'

rated t | 1,428 words | cw: mention of previous marriage (steve's) | tags: established relationship, single dad steve (except he isn't anymore *wink wink*), steddie dads, modern au, marriage proposal

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"Sarah, come on!" Steve yelled from the kitchen, his eyes drifting to the clock that he hoped was lying. They were gonna be late for school. Again.

"Daddy, I can't find my jacket!" Sarah came running through the kitchen, only half-dressed, no backpack in sight.

"What do you mean? It was on the hook last night."

"It's not now."

Steve groaned.

And then a jacket was thrust into his hands and a sleep-rough voice was in his ear. "Found it on the floor in the bathroom."

Steve grabbed the jacket from Eddie, kissing his cheek in thanks.

"Eddie found it, let's go!" Steve yelled before whispering to just Eddie. "Thank you, baby. Sorry for waking you up."

"Needed to get up anyway. Wanted to say bye to Sarah."

Steve watched as Eddie walked over to the cabinet that held their vitamins. He reached in and grabbed the gummies Sarah was supposed to take every day. Steve wasn't always the best about remembering them, but Eddie never forgot.

He reached in the fridge next, grabbing the smoothie Steve forgot about and handing it to him. "Since I know you didn't eat anything," Eddie kissed his cheek again and leaned against the counter holding the gummies for Sarah.

"Thanks, Eds," Steve said as Sarah came crashing back into the kitchen and reached for her jacket. "Why did you move this into the bathroom?"

"I didn't."

"Ah, I fear the ghosts are at it again, Steve," Eddie said, smirking when Sarah giggled. He handed her the gummies once she had her arms in the jacket. "Vitamins to make you big and strong, your highness."

"Thanks, Dad."

Everyone froze. The clock on the wall stopped ticking. The air was sucked out of the room.

Sarah was bright red, and because she wasn't the type to stick around an awkward situation, she turned and walked out of the room.

Eddie blinked at Steve, lips parted as he tried to remember how to breathe.

He'd been with Steve for just over a year, and while he didn't technically live with them, he spent more time at their apartment than his own. He was on Sarah's emergency pick-up list, took her with him to run errands when Steve had to work late, bought her things when the budget allowed just because he wanted to, and would read to her most nights that he stayed over. In many ways, he was her dad.

She hardly knew her mom, only spent two weeks every summer with her and was perfectly fine with that. Steve's ex-wife had admitted from the beginning of the pregnancy that she thought it was a mistake and when she filed for divorce when Sarah was six months old, Steve wasn't surprised. She had no interest in being a mom the way Steve had so desperately wanted to be a dad. But even still, Eddie never wanted them to feel like he was trying to force any type of parental power.

She'd called him Eddie until this moment, and he'd been completely fine with it. He would've been fine with it forever if it meant he got to have them both.

"I can talk to her. I don't think she meant to say it and it's okay if you don't want her to. She'll understand and-" Steve started rambling, trying to prevent Eddie from panicking.

But he wasn't. He was just doing his best not to start crying.

"But did she mean it?" He asked, voice shaking as he realized how much he did want her to call him Dad.

"I dunno, Eds. Probably. You know she never says things she doesn't mean. But we can talk to her-"

"No. I mean, yes, we should. But not because I don't want her to." Eddie took a deep breath. "I've kinda been her dad for a while now. It feels like it, at least. We've been in this together for most of the last year, ya know? I wanna be this for her and for you."

Steve was going to melt into a puddle, maybe right through the floor into the apartment below them. The nice old couple who lived there would have to mop him up.

"Daddy? Da-Eddie?" Sarah's small voice said from the doorway.

"Come here, sweet pea," Steve got down closer to her level. She was tall for her age, but even at eight years old, she was barely level with his chest. "Do you wanna call Eddie Dad? There's no wrong answer."

Eddie nodded, getting down to her level, too.

"It won't hurt my feelings if you just said it by accident, princess. I promise I love being your Eddie," he smiled at her.

He meant that, he wouldn't lie to her. But a small part of him hoped she wouldn't go back to calling him just Eddie after that. Not after he had a taste of what it could be like to be her dad.

"Well, you do dad stuff with me. Like when we built that birdhouse because I was scared the robin would have her eggs in a tree and they'd fall and crack and the babies would die. And when you took me shopping for a dress so I could go to Daddy's awards for work. And you always read to me with the voices and stuff." Sarah was playing with her hair, a nervous habit she'd somehow picked up from Eddie in such a short time. "And that's stuff that Daddy does with me all the time too, like when you're not here with us to do it. And sometimes even when you are and you both do it it feels like I have two dads. I like having two dads."

Steve and Eddie were both barely holding back tears as she spoke. She'd always been incredibly brave about her feelings.

"I like doing all that stuff with you, princess. But I would love it all no matter what you called me, okay?" Eddie said around a barely contained sob.

"But you love Daddy and me right?"

"Of course."

"And you kinda live with us."

He let out a wet laugh. "Yeah, I guess I kinda do."

"And you maybe will get married?"

Steve nearly choked on his own breath. "Sarah, honey, remember I told you that kind of decision is something that takes time and-"

"Yeah, princess. I think maybe we will. Not right now, but someday," Eddie interrupted.

Steve resisted glaring at him. He knew better than to make promises to a child, they'd already been over this before, and he could already see Sarah's wheels spinning.

"Wait-"

"So I can wear a pretty dress?" Sarah asked, as if that was the most important thing. "Can I hold both your hands?"

"If your Daddy is okay with it when it happens. But you know what has to happen first?" Eddie poked her dimple, smiling at her with teary eyes. "He has to say yes."

Sarah looked over at Steve, who was...confused.

"Daddy! Say yes!"

"He's gotta ask!" Steve exclaimed. "And he doesn't have a ring. We've only been together a year."

"Stevie."

Something in Eddie's voice made Steve pause and look at him instead of Sarah.

"I have a ring. Not with me, but. I already know you're it for me." Eddie held Sarah's hand and Steve's. "I just wanted to make sure Sarah was okay with it first. So. Sarah Harrington."

"Yes, Dad?"

Jesus, Steve was pretty sure he would die from this. In a good way, maybe the best way, but Jesus Christ.

"Would it be okay if I ask your dad to marry me? I could be your other dad and I promise I can read to you every night."

"Hm." Sarah thought for barely a second before she beamed at Steve. "Daddy, I'm saying yes. So you have to say yes. I want Eddie to live with us forever."

The most important thing to Steve was someone who Sarah loved and who loved Sarah in return, someone who was part of their family because they wanted to be, someone who felt proud to be theirs.

Eddie checked off all of that and then some.

He looked at Eddie and smiled. "Well, you heard the princess. Yes!"

Being late for school turned into being absent from school. Steve and Eddie skipped work for the day so they could all be together. Eddie went to his apartment to get the ring and Sarah made decorations for a "real" proposal.

He didn't mind that it wasn't anything extravagant. None of them did.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is coparenting

[tarjapearce]

Bad Teachings Pt. 2

College Proffesor AU! Miguel x fem!Reader

Warning: Smut, slight fluff

Hope you like c: Pt 3

It's been almost two years ever since you graduated college, two years since you last time saw Mr. O'Hara and kept in touch with him. To starters, you were pretty sure that making an advance on him after he had realigned your guts in his car and you gave him a blowjob in his classroom previous to the graduation ceremony, would only bring him trouble.

And now, a year and ten months later you had to 'integrate yourself to the proactive and laboral society' or so your parents always repeated. Thankfully enough, due your merits you had landed a not so shitty job in the branding consulting field.

The perks of your job were flexible schedules and some little luxuries like a place in a relatively good area, and finally, a car.

You often browsed through social media to check on your old class mates. Some got married, others moved from the country and others just stuck to themselves. Even though it was unlikely, you had searched Miguel, but he never showed up. Given the man's workaholic nature, it made sense for him to not have social media.

Wich kinda sucked since you had lost valuable contacts, including his. Not that you often talked though, a few how are yous here and there, and in the rare occasions, the conversations turned spicy and thigh clenching.

You went back to work.

-----

Adult life was often boring, in fact, that you were grocery shopping for the week had turned boring. The only thing sparking your interest was a new cereal brand on the top shelf, your fingers barely reaching them. You stopped however as a big hand hovered over you and grabbed the cereal like it was nothing.

"Thanks"

"Who said it was for you?"

A chill ran down your spine as you looked at none other than Miguel O'Hara cocking an eyebrow your way with a slight smirk.

"M-Mr. O'Hara! Hi. Uh... Hi."

"(Name)" He gave a brief acknowledge to you as he put some packaged-gourmet looking coffee on his cart.

"It's been a while. How do you do, sir?"

"Sir? What am I? Sixty?"

"At all, just-"

"Then fucking call me Miguel."

"It's really weird for me to say your name so casually."

He rolled his eyes and moved to get coffee filters.

"Thought you found a better chatting partner"

You stood there unable to comprehend his words right away, they weren't precisely tender, but they held a bit of a grudge. Finally your brain alighted with the idea of what he had meant.

"No, no. I was robbed actually, and lost a bunch of data, your contact included."

He stared your way, unwavering as you offered a small smile.

"Make it up, then... Unless you are seeing someone?"

"No!" You almost shouted and quieted down as some people in the back looked at your way.

"Sorry. I mean no. Im not seeing anyone. What about you?"

"Maybe you, at seven on saturday. "

Your cheeks burned at how casual he was acting. You had caged him in the teacher box for so long anything outside of it was odd, yet fascinating.

"Alright."

"Pásame tu teléfono*"

"What?"

"Give me your phone."

"Oh, right."

You handed your smartphone at him as he called his own number, registering both you and himself on each other's devices.

"I'll let you know if anything else shows up."

"Sure, I'll bring a gift."

He chuckled and shrugged

" If you want to. Not needed though. At 7 pm" ,

Nodding, you watched him leave, realizing he actually had put the cereal box in your cart.

-------

The rest of the week was torture, in every little chance you had, you checked your phone to see it was empty, you didn't even discuss where you'd meet or the dress code. You could surprise him, but the idea of being dressed inappropriately would just embarrass you.

Hi, sorry to just butt in. I wanna know though, do I need a dress code?

It took a long of 20 minutes for him to reply.

No

It was a simple yet not so mortifying reply. Even so you the urge of surprising him felt stronger. He was giving you, without realizing, the chance to make an impression on him.

-----

You went for a short, skin tight, black, thin strapped, heart shaped uppercut dress, black stilettos, natural looking makeup and a blown out hair. The stilettos made a show of your silky-feeling legs, you were all dolled up, quite literally.

Around 6:20 you got a text message from Miguel, he had shared his location to you. You had bought a good quality wine, something he might like. Or so you hoped. Giving a last look and some bit of  perfume, you went out the door and drove off to his place.

------

You couldn't help but feel a nervous wreck as you approached the apartment building. Nothing too fancy, but a good looking place in a good neighbor, you entered the elevator, earning some glances your way.

Fourth floor, apartment 5.

You had arrived right on time, so you knocked the door as you straightened any lump in your dress. His steps approached and you gulped, finally he opened the door. His behemoth of frame covering up the entrance.

"Hey" You smiled nervously as he raked you from head to toes with his eyes, subtly.

"Too much?"

He smirked at your hesitation and let you in, closing the door after you. If it wasn't for a a couple of boxes scattered around the place would look even more amazing. It was only a place you could afford if you worked for big companies.

"Got us some wine. Hope you enjoy." He took the bottle of your hands and pulled you in for a deep kiss. Your sweet perfume only added a little spark to his senses.

"Pinche morra toda preciosa*" He mumbled as he slapped your ass gently and motioned you to follow him to the kitchen, bottle in wine on hand. Obeying, you followed and he opened the seat for you.

"Thanks, Miguel."

He wore a white button shirt, rolled up to the sleeves, revealing his strong forearms. Dress pants, black shoes and a belt. The belt only accentuated his upper frame, you gulped at the sight of him, serving two plates of pasta to then sprinkle some cheese on top.

He then returned and offered you a plate. You could only stare at him, awestruck. He sat next to you and opened the bottle of your wine

"What?"

"Nothing, just..." He poured two cups of wine and removed his glasses off his face. How could you have missed them?

"Nice place, great cook, good looking." He chuckled as you sipped the wine, "Can't believe someone like you invited me over."

"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah never mind me. Im just rambling. Are you still teaching?"

"Not really. Just a consultant now. Teaching is good, but it pays shit. Had to go back to my old job."

"And that is?" You finally ate a forkful of pasta. Humming in approval.

"Genetic Engineering."

"Well, shit. Is there anything else I should know?"

"You surely did dress up for this. Or for me?"

"Both." You nodded softly and he followed.

"Maybe next time I should be more specific with the dress code and make sure you aren't bringing your panties with you."

"Who says I am wearing them?"

His eyes turned darker as he took your hand to kiss it softly.

"You sure you wanna play that game, princesa?"

"Isn't that what you invited me over for?"

"Maybe. Maybe Not. Who knows" he smirked and took a hold of, your chin softly, "Eat up, you'll need it."

"What if I'm actually hungry for something else?"

"As much as I'd love to just rip that dress off, I want you to enjoy first, we've got a whole night ahead."

-----

For some reason your head was barely getting a grip on it. Miguel O'Hara, retired college professor, now a genetic engineer, was being an absolute gentleman with you even though he had stated his intentions also. You didn't know if to just run away out of cowardy at someone actually giving you a good non sexual time or hope you could outlast him during the night, or at least hope to endure.

You didn't know if he actually was just lonely since he asked about you, what did you do after college, how your robbing happened and the like. But of course, it could only last for so long.

He removed your shoes and kissed your ankles, and inner thighs, but stopped before he could reach to his favorite place to dive in his head

"Come here, sweetie." He pulled you off the couch and embraced snugly your body as his hands roamed your body with need. He groaned upon touching the bare skin of your ass.

"You smell so good" He kissed you once more as he hoisted you by your legs, to wrap them around him, all with his lips still devouring yours. He had you groaning with a roll of his hips as he pressed you against the wall. His mouth leaving you to assault the tender and sensitive flesh of your neck.

His clothed erection rubbed against your moistening folds. Friction making your whole nerves to react, your toes curled, your nipples perked as they rubbed against his chest. He smelled just like you remembered, a sweet and earthy tinge of cologne and a bit musky.

His hands grope your glutes as he kept grinding his hips against yours.

"Miguel" You whimpered his name and he pulled you by the neck to kiss you. Your hips rolled against his, not wasting up a single movement to feel everything. His hands held a handful of your ass while he softly bit your neck and clawed at the plumpness of your ass. It made you squirm and gasp as he rubbed harder.

Shallow breaths, pressure rising as your legs trapped him as closely as you could. His arms held you, preventing your fall, his lips were drowning any weak and shaky moan. He then placed you on the bed, but you immediately straddled him.

"Let me return the favor"

Smirking, your hands unbuckled his belt, he just watched you struggling to tug his pants off, before pulling them down, along the boxers, releasing his girth to you.

Licking your lips, you kneeled before him, and soon, dragged your tongue from the base to the flushed tip. A low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands immediately went to hold your hair, as his other one held the base of his shaft, to slowly and surely feeding his cock to you.

Your tongue swirled before taking the whole tip inside. His body shuddered

"Just like that, mi amor." His hips bucked, pushing an inch deeper into your mouth. You began bobbing your head up and down, feeding yourself after he slapped his tip against your flattened tongue. He then used both hands to hold your hair and head in place as he slowly moved upwards, his hips inside your warm and moist plush lips.

Streaks of pre cum, dribbled down your chin as he kept slowly fucking your mouth. Your jaw muscles relaxed enough to allow him an inch more, but just as you were about to deep throat him, he pulled himself out and pulled you by the hair for a kiss. It was sloppy, but passionate.

He removed the dress, revealing your naked body underneath. Then wiped your chin carefully

"Me encantas. Puta madre, no sabes lo que me haces." He mumbled to your ear huskily

"I don't know what you're saying" you giggled as he slapped your ass once more.

He turned you around and placed you in all fours. Admiring the smoothness and dips of your curves. He removed the remaining of his clothes and draped in the curtains of his room, leaving the place dimly lit.

He placed a hand on your hip and gave a few strokes to your slit with his tongue while cooing how good you tasted for him. Slowly he pushed a finger inside you, giving gentle strokes. Your hands held his sheets tighter. Soon another finger was added and you pushed your hips to make his fingers go deeper.

"Such an eager baby" he tapped your ass and chuckled, "Relax"

He brought his slicked fingers to his lips and soon, pumped himself a couple of times to slowly fill you, as you clenched around him.

"You ok?" You sighed and nodded shakily.

"It's been a while" his hands gently caressed your hips before his pushed in softly. Gasping at the intrusion, he started off slowly as he peppered your neck and cheeks in kisses, his hands massaged and squeezed with care, your breast.

"So so beautiful." he cooed before thrusting his hips a bit harder, seeing your mouth contort in pure lust. He kissed you once more, before holding your hips in place, with a swift roll, he pushed all the way in, in one go, earning him a sweet whimper from you.

The bed creaked as he slapped his hips, slowly ascending to a rougher pace. You wailing his name, as your cunt welcomed him with a wet squelch was everything he needed. There was something about you taking him so well that made him go feral.

Your face and chest were pushed flat against the cushioned surface, ass high for him, he separated a bit further your legs before his hips began slapping your flesh, mercilessly. And god you loved it.

Your body shook with every deep thrust he did, mouth agape, moaning shamelessly. Your hair was pulled, his nails dragged down your spine before his hands slapped your ass.

The pressure began bubbling in the lowest of your pit, he could tell by how your inner walls began clenching and gripping him. He then brought you closer, your back collided against his sturdy chest, giving him a tighter and deeper angle inside you.

His arms held you in place as you scratched and dug your nails on him.

"You're such a good girl, princesa. So so good" he cooed as he cupped your pussy and toyed with your clit in slow motions

The new sensation was only added to the many you were already experiencing. Breathless, so ever tight around him, as his arms secured you in place while being pounded with such abandonment. Smirking, he trusted harder and harder, but stopped just before you were thrown in the bliss searing abyss.

You whined in frustration, as you tried to find relief on your own.

"Uh uh. Don't be bad."

"Please..." You heaved and put his hands on your body

"Please what?"

"Let me fucking cum, Miguel."

"Jesus..." He groaned and kissed your neck before resuming his rutting inside you. The pressure simmered as you were pushed in the brink of breaking once more.

His hot breath against your flushed skin, his hands holding you with such possessiveness as he whispered sweet nothings to your ear, was the perfect combination for you to snap.

Shaking and nearly convulsing at the hot white pleasure that flooded your system.

"Miguel!" you spoke his name in between gritted teeth

"There you go" he cooed and smiled. Despite your insides having a death grip around him, your pleasure was his priority. You felt so good and small, it tugged on the dark strings on his self control.

Your skin was flushed, covered by a thin layer of sweat. He turned you around and pulled you by your legs towards him. A hand was placed in your abdomen as he prodded in two fingers, plunging them deep enough to graze at that already sensitive spot.

Your toes curled in as he moved them dexterously inside your already sopping folds.

Faster, harder, faster and harder. In that order.

"Oh my god" you sobbed as the sheets crumpled under your touch, toes curling in as a new orgasm was ripped out of you with a wet gush on his hand and forearm. He groaned as you squirted.

"That's the sexiest shit I've seen you doing, preciosa."

You could only moan in return as he filled you up once more

"Hold on tight" Your legs were hoisted on his arms as he gathered you, your arms went around his neck, anchoring to his broad shoulders and he lifted you up with ease. His arms locking on your back as you bounced on his cock.

"Fuck!" you gasped at the new depth his tip reached inside, and each thrust only dug him deeper inside you, feeling completely full of him.

"Cómo me encantas" he breathed through soft growls, that were drowned by the obscene, continuous and wet slapping of flesh. Unable to mumble any coherent word. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, eyes heavy with overstimulation as the merciless slapping continued and your body bounced.

You clung to his body as if your life depended on it. Your nails scratched the top of his  back, creating red welts on his skin that only urged him to a whole new level of roughness you hadn't expected. His groans drowned your pathetic cries as your body shook with each thrust.

"Too much" you croaked in between deep pants as the pressure scrapped you raw. Eyes far too lost for him to reach, his control over you unwavering. Pleasure slowly chipped away his body, you closed your eyes as a breathless mewl announced your brewing of a next peak.

He inhaled sharply as his hips stopped for a moment, to then resume as you were propped against the wall. His muscles flexed as he fucked you in the way he knew you loved it, too pussy drunk to stop.

Your peak was shattering, almost splitting your mind in two, as you gushed all over his cock and lower abdomen, supple thighs squeezing his waist. He hissed at your clawing, as he spurted inside. Painting your walls white and hot.

"Mine" he growled. There was an acute whimper on his behalf as he tried to keep standing as his load was out inside you. He rushed to the bed and laid you on it.

His chest swelled in pride as it heaved.

"Such a good girl." He laid next to you, your head cradled closer, just like your body, he made one of your thighs to hook on his waist as he slowly entered you one more time.

You stirred and his arm snaked around your torso. He shushed you as he delivered slow strokes with his cock inside you. Your hands rested on his chest and your head on his arm, using it as a pillow.

"Toda para mí" He pushed his hips in languid, slow strokes, pulling soft mewls out your limp body. Your plush folds welcomed him with a soft suckling motion as he pushed all his seeping cum back in.

"I-I can't" you breathed as his hand pressed you closer

"Of course you can, corazón. One more."

"Miguel" you whimpered in despair. Not that you could move anyways, his lips kissed your temple as he rode you to bliss one more time.

----

You woke up in Miguel's bed, tangled up in sheets, sore and thirsty. Your phone buzzed with some texts from work. You stood and covered up in one of the sheets. The smell of food lingered in the air as your stomach grumbled in protest

"Miguel?"

"C'mon." he motioned you from the kitchen, you followed and sat on the table. He wore nothing but some sweatpants and his slippers

"Buenos días, guapa."

"Morning?" you smiled softly at your best guess of what he just said

"Sorry for... you know, uh, staying."

"It's fine. I was counting on it, anyways."

He served you a bit of a hearty looking meal. Chilaquiles with two fried eggs on top .

"Thank you."

He sat next to you and ate. You followed. Eating was quiet, but comfortable enough.

"I'll do the dishes" you stood and picked up after the both. He smiled softly, almost contemplating you from behind

"You should bring extra clothes next time."

Next time

"Might do, yeah." your cheeks flared up and you finished cleaning and went to his room, your clothes had been gathered on a chair, neatly.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure."

You quickly showered and changed, Miguel just watched you from afar.

"I shall go then."

"What? No kiss goodbye? So cold." He feigned hurt and you couldn't help but laugh. Then you kissed his cheek.

"Nah. Despídete bien." He pulled you closer for a deep kiss and smirked once you were at the door.

"Thank you, for everything. It was wonderful."

"Of course it was." he slapped your butt as you went out the door.

"Mejor vete antes de que me arrepienta."

"What?"

"Bye bye, preciosa."

You pursed your lips and shook your head softly, he just chuckled and you left. Your kiss still lingering in the air.

-------

*Pinche morra toda preciosa - Such a fucking gorgeous girl.

*Me encantas. Puta madre, no sabes lo que me haces -I love it. Holy shit, you don't know what you do to me.

*Cómo me encantas - God, I love you. (Mind you, this love is not the same as love love.)

*Toda para mí - All for me.

*Buenos días, guapa - Good morning, gorgeous

*Despídete bien - Say goodbye properly

*"Mejor vete antes de que me arrepienta - You better go before I regret it.

Taglist: <3

@averagefloydlover @mouse-teagreat @4rlybm @cosmoscoffeee @wanderlustingcastaway @allysunny @noblesavagex @miggyoharaswife

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #1

CH1. Home Style | The Menu [3.7K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Jim’s Midnight Grill wasn’t the magical place the name made it sound like.

In fact, it was worse at night. Hawkins' only diner sat on the outskirts of town, just before the road that took you out alongside the cornfields. In the height of a sunny day, the water tower cast a shadow over the old building and the gas station next door only had one working pump.

The leather booths were constantly sticky, the table tops grainy with spilled salt, but if you made your visit on a Thursday night after nine, milkshakes were two for one. The back alley was littered with cigarette butts, graffiti on the walls telling you who to call for a good time— and someone called King Steve used Farah Fawcett hairspray? The regulars were permanent fixtures on the bar stools, coffee stains on the counter in front of them, stolen sugar packets in their pockets, frowns on their faces.

The staff didn’t want to be there, the owner refused to replace the flickering lights and the cook had a bad attitude and liked to communicate with heavy sighs and eye rolls. But he made a mean grilled cheese. The walk in freezer was reserved for the pitiful weekly deliveries and breakdowns, a stolen kiss or two. Or three, or four. But no one liked to tackle the clogged sink and god forbid anyone change the TV channel— Mr Creel always had something to say about it.

—————

Honestly, Hawkins wasn’t your first choice when you decided to move to a smaller place. The idea of a big city was all fine and well until you lived a year in Chicago, the dream of a brownstone apartment quickly disappearing when you realised jobs were hard to come by and finding friends was even harder. Living alone wasn’t all that fun, especially when your landlord hinted at sexual favours to justify late payments and he didn’t care to fix the leaking radiator in your bedroom. The nights were never quiet and the city hardly slept, but instead of neon lights and late night bodega runs, you lay awake on the broken spring in your bed and flinched at the sound of backfiring cars and people arguing on the street below.

It was lonely, living somewhere so big and busy and always eating dinner by yourself. So you sold the old car you didn’t really use and cried enough that your landlord eventually gave in and ripped up your lease that still had four months to go. Packing your stuff was an easy enough job, hardly enough belongings to fill the duffel bag you’d dragged with you. You dug into the back of your freezer for the wad of cash your grandma gave you, threw it into the bag and grabbed your greyhound ticket and decided you’d get off the bus when the skyline turned a little more green. When the buildings shrunk, when the smog lifted and when wildflowers sprouted from between the cracks in the sidewalk.

So you rolled into Hawkins before the day broke, way before the sun crept up over the quarry, before the small town came alive. The apartment you’d found was the same tiny size as the one you’d had in Chicago but it was cleaner and the carpet was new. Nothing leaked. Nothing smelled weird. The parking lot was filled with cars and none of them had bullet holes in the side, your trash can wasn’t on fire and god, god, the first neighbour you saw - an elderly woman who was walking with a yorkie on a leash - smiled at you.

She smiled at you.

So despite the lack of twenty four hour stores and pizza parlours, Hawkins was already looking up. There wasn’t much on the Main Street, a library, a tiny bakery run by a couple who offered you a free croissant as a welcome to town gift. There was an outdoor pool with sun bleached bunting across its chain link fence, an arcade next to a video store, a high school that was derelict due to the summer months. The larger houses across from the park were lined with cherry trees, neat lawns with white mailboxes and flowers under the windows and suddenly Hawkins was a million miles away from Chicago and the buzz of traffic and car horns.

The librarian let you print out some resumes the day after you’d settled in, and you found your way around town by asking kind strangers, buying a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in exchange for directions out of your neighbourhood. It was easy to stroll along the sidewalk with an iced latte and your headphones around your neck, blue skies above you and the sound of sprinklers in their yards, breathing in air that didn’t smell like diesel. You found a man by a rundown garage, white haired and tired looking, mechanic scrubs tied around his waist as he smoked a cigarette.

You took a deep breath, and then another one, smiling politely - warily - as you approached. The man lifted a brow at you, a little suspicious, but he held the burning stub away from you, smoke billowing in the opposite direction.

“You lost, kid?”

You were. Just a little.

“I’m looking for Jim’s, uh,” you glanced down at the pink flyer that had been pinned on the library's notice board. “Jim’s Midnight Grill? I got told it was out this way, but—”

You looked around, noting that there wasn’t much out this way. The busiest part of Hawkins was behind you, tidy sidewalks giving way to long roads out of town, a lone bus stop by the garage, a farm in the distance across the street. You squinted against the sun and shrugged.

“You wanna keep going for ‘nother mile or so, it’s just before the town sign,” the man pointed further out where the cornfields were overgrown and the sun faded billboard told everyone ‘thanks for visiting Hawkins!’ You weren’t sure the bus ran that far out. “Jim should be there, but if he’s not, jus’ ask for Eddie, he’ll sort you out.”

“Eddie,” you nodded, peering into the distance. You couldn’t see another building, but this man didn’t seem like he was lying. “Right, okay. Just keep to the road?”

The man nodded and he cracked a smile, small but soft. He stubbed out the end of his cigarette and gestured to an old pick up that looked like it had seen better days. “You needin’ a ride?”

The urge to say yes was strong, especially after walking all the way from your apartment as the heat soared. It snuck up on you like a slow roll, going from pleasant to warm to too hot, far too quickly. Beads of sweat clung to your skin underneath your sundress but you shook your head, shyness crawling up the back of your neck. Accepting a ride from a stranger didn’t seem the wisest idea, no matter how kind he seemed.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “Thank you, though. I appreciate the help.”

The man smiled again, a little bigger this time, crows feet crinkling, the sunlight catching the white of his five o’clock shadow. “That’s alright, kid. Jus’ tell ‘em Wayne sent you, yeah? Follow the road, you’ll see Forest Hills - the trailer park - keep going a lil’ ways and it’s right across the road.”

It turned out Wayne was right.

You kept walking, the heat soaring, the fields on either side of you growing taller but you bit back a smile at the sight of the wildflowers that snuck through the cracks in the concrete. Eventually they gave way to a trailer park, just as Wayne side, a quaint place that hummed with generators and had lines of laundry between each mobile home. Across the road sat a sandy lot, a diner in the middle, a neon sign letting passer-bys know they’d arrived at Jim’s Midnight Grill. Except the ‘r’ was loose, hanging from its wire and buzzing blue and purple.

Cats patrolled along the roadside, going from trailer doorsteps to the back alley of the diner, hoping and waiting for a free meal that they all knew would eventually come. You stopped to pet an orange kitten, a little scruffy looking thing but cute all the same, your CV clutched in one hand as you peered suspiciously at the front of the restaurant. It looked too quiet, like it wasn’t open yet. But there was a black van parked along the side of the building and some steam leaked from a vent on the roof, so you opened the front door.

The bell jingled but the patrons at the dining bar who sat on their stools didn’t move, didn’t turn to look. The place was nearly empty, some people nursing a coffee, some staring blankly at the buzzing television screen that was mounted in the corner. No one stood at the host desk, the menus stacked messily, the phone off the hook. In fact, there wasn’t a server to be seen as you made your way to the counter. You grimaced as you leaned on the surface, elbows sticky, avoiding spilled coffee the best you could. You waited, resume still in your hand, patience on your features.

No one came.

So you rang the bell that was on the bar top for the very purpose of gaining attention, but the man beside you glared at the noise. Still, no one came. The fans overhead squeaked and whirred, the TV fizzed with bad signal and from somewhere behind the open serving hatch, you heard the clatter of pots and pans. You tried to crane your neck to see through the window, steam and smoke billowing from it, the slight shadow of maybe a person moving through it.

The person swore, dropped a skillet and swore again.

You leaned in further, elbows on spilled salt grains and drops of ketchup, trying to gain a better view into the kitchen from the bar top. “Hey, ‘scuse me? Can I— can someone—”

You huffed as the figure moved out of sight, falling back onto the stool that squeaked and the man next to you snorted into his coffee cup. You frowned and took further action, sundress falling back around your thighs as you hopped off the chair and made your way to the side of the counter that lifted up. No one paid you any mind, no one at all, but you still hesitated before ducking under the bar and hovering by the hatch. You could smell garlic and sage and something a little sweet now you were closer, the scents of the kitchen winning over the stale coffee, cigarette smoke and engine oil that clung to the patrons clothes behind you.

You peered into the kitchen, your paperwork still clutched to your chest. It wasn’t much cooler in here than it was outside, the AC unit broken and the fans working overtime to combat the heat. The kitchen seemed empty now, a stovetop still on despite no one to supervise it, flames licking high up the sides of a steel pot, big enough for you to fit both feet in. There was something inside bubbling, foam rising to the top and chopped courgette and red onions sat on the workbench beside it, abandoned. A radio played, staticky and fuzzy, an old sixties tune floating out to mix with the smoke.

“Come a little bit closer, you’re my kind of man. So big and so strong, come a little bit closer, I’m all alone.”

“H-hello?” You cleared your throat and braced yourself to speak a little louder. Stronger. Braver. “Hello?”

No one answered. In fact, it seemed like the entire diner was run by ghosts, no waiting staff, hosts or cooks to be seen. Maybe you’d imagined the silhouette in the smoke, maybe the heat was finally getting to you.

“No customers back here, what d’you think you’re doin’?”

You startled, jumping back a little only to knock an elbow into a half filled coffee pot, the brown liquid thankfully lukewarm but it still spilled across the countertop, soaking into stray packets of sugar and scattered napkins.

“Oh, fuck, uh—” you grabbed at whatever dry napkins were left, hurriedly mopping up the spill before it dripped to the floor. Old coffee dotted the red and cream tiles, into the gaps between your sandals. You grimaced and looked up, only half paying attention. “Shit, I’m really sorry, I just— there was no one there and—”

You stopped, swallowing hard, cheeks hot, eyes wide. The person in front of you was half hidden behind the serving hatch, but he was scowling through the window with a ladle in his hand. Big brown eyes, unnervingly expressive and dark hair to match, unruly looking curls that were pulled back with an elastic band in a bun that wouldn’t have passed a health inspection.

A boy, unfairly pretty, and annoyed looking with tattoos peeking out from his chef whites, a black paisley printed bandana knotted around his neck. There was a furrow between his brow, lines etched there so deep that it made you think they were a permanent fixture on his handsome face.

“—no customers behind the cash desk, sweetheart, you look bright enough to understand that.”

Your mouth fell open, a burn creeping across your cheeks. Annoyance settled in your chest but you realised you weren’t quite brave enough to do anything about it. So you lifted your resume and slapped it on the hot steel ledge that separated the kitchen from the coffee bar. “No one’s working,” you tried to explain, gesturing with one hand to the empty diner behind you. “I rang the bell—”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” The boy scoffed, raising a tattooed forearm to wipe away the sheer layer of sweat from his brow. “Havin’ a spa day? Shit, no one rings the damn bell, don’t you know that?”

You scrambled for a response, the burn on your face growing hotter, an awful clawing feeling coming across your chest. You swallowed, your throat tight, but you pointed at your CV once more. “I’m here for the job opening. I need to speak to Jim? About the kitchen porter role?”

The stranger laughed, a breathy thing that you didn’t think was supposed to come across as mean as it did, but it stung all the same. You shrunk a little, a hardly seen thing as the boy turned his head to check on whatever was bubbling in the big pot. “Look, sweetheart, I don’t wanna be a dick about it, but uh, I don’t think you’re cut out for the kitchen - sorry.” He turned back to you, a slightly more apologetic look on his face instead of the frown. “You understand, right?”

You were speechless, just for a second. Blinking away the confusion, you made noise of protest as the boy started to move away. Your hand touched his bicep and he swivelled back, scowling once more. You snatched your hand away, glancing at your fingertips as if the ink from his tattoos would have stained them black.

“Sorry— it’s just, I, I need a job.” You swallowed, hoping none of the customers could hear your desperate plea. “I just moved into town and honestly, I’ll take anything, like anything. I’m supposed to talk to Jim— or Eddie?”

The boy seemed to mull over your words for a second or two, a passing of sympathy or something just as kind coming over his features. He sighed and shrugged, turning away to stir the pot before it boiled over and he shouted at you through the smoke and steam. Not meanly, just enough for his voice to be heard over the music, the hissing of the stove, the hum of the freezer. “I dunno where Jim is, sorry.”

You deflated, sliding your stack of papers off of the ledge and back to your chest. You tried not to appear too frustrated as you asked, “what about Eddie? Someone - a guy, at the garage - he told me to ask for Eddie.”

The ladle clanged against the pot, some soup - or maybe stew - spilling out the sides. The boy frowned at the mess, dragging a rag over the spots before he glanced up at you. You tried to smile, tried to tamp down the watery doe eyes you knew you couldn’t help but have on show, but you felt desperate. Leaving Chicago with nothing more than the bag on your back and no plans was suddenly seeming like an awful idea.

“Sorry,” the stranger said again. “I dunno an Eddie.”

—————

Sitting in a sticky leather booth in the corner of Jim’s Midnight Grill for another hour turned out to be worth it.

Just before two o’clock, a man walked in, greeting the same customers who were still nursing their coffees with a muttered ‘hello,’ a familiar thing that everyone grunted back at. He was a tall man, broad shouldered with a moustache and a shaved head that was covered with a battered wide brimmed hat. He looked more cowboy than business owner, checked shirt dirt covered boots and all, but you heard someone call him Jim and you were up and running after him.

Your sneakers stuck to the linoleum tiles, the ‘shtick shtick shtick’ of your soles pattering between the aisles of empty tables until you caught up with the man just before he disappeared into the kitchen. He raised his brows at your sudden appearance at his elbow, wide eyed and hopeful as you clutched the same resume you’d tried to hand the cook, the pieces of paper stained with coffee now.

The man lifted his chin to a small table before you could speak, gesturing to two chairs by the window. You startled, wondering what was happening as he pulled out a seat and pointed at you to sit in the other one.

“You’re new, right?” The man - Jim - fumbled with a packet of cigarettes, most of them crushed and bent, but he found a good one to lift to his lips. He lit it and blew smoke upwards, staining the already yellowing ceiling. “Here, in town?”

You nodded, unsure how he knew that. You guessed that news travelled fast in a place as small as Hawkins, so you decided to elaborate for the sake of talking. “Uh, yeah. From Chicago. I’m inquiring about the, um, the porter job?”

“What’s your name?” Jim leaned forward in his chair and poked gently at your forearms. “You don’t got a lot of scars, you done soft jobs? No kitchen stuff before?”

The AC unit kicked in and rattled a vent above you as you stared at the man, trying to work out what he meant. Stammering, you told him your name and passed over a resume, pointing out your last few jobs, doing your best to try and make them sound more professional than they actually were.

Librarian's assistant.

Barista. For two weeks.

Cashier at a knock off Chuck E. Cheese.

“I guess they’re what you could call, uh,” you squinted Jim, floundering for the word he’d used, “soft jobs. But I’ve got a scar on my knee from pulling a kid out of the ball pit. He’d come straight from little league, he still had his spikes on and there was a considerable amount of blood even th—”

Jim stopped your spiel by jamming a thumb back towards the kitchen hatch. You could still see the boy there, pretty and scowling all the same, a dark curl falling from his hair band to fall over his cheek. You watched him blow it away and flip something in a skillet, the sizzle of it just heard over the music, the bad TV in the corner of the bar.

“You ever worked a kitchen?”

You shook your head, stomach sinking. ‘Fake it til’ you make it,’ failed you once before, and the owner of the coffee shop in Lincoln Park quickly realised you were wasting both your times when she discovered you didn’t know the difference between a mocha and a latte. “No, sir.”

“Our line cook is real particular ‘bout who we put in his kitchen with him,” Jim pointed to the boy, who’d now been joined by someone else. Another male, one with even longer hair, sleek and dark and they seemed to be arguing over blocks of cheese. “Now I don’t think it’s a good idea to throw you in there—”

Dread bubbled in your stomach. If you didn’t manage to land this job, you weren’t sure where else to look. A small town brought on few opportunities, and you’d already exhausted most of the businesses on Main Street. “Sir, please, I—”

“—but there is a waitressing gig available.” Jim frowned as he tried to remember the details. “Full time, forty odd hours if you don’t mind doing lates.”

“Yes!” You blurted out the answer too loud, loud enough for the customers to turn away from the TV screen for a second or two. The boys in the kitchen peered out the hatch, one curious, one annoyed. “Yes, sorry, yes. I’ll take it, thank you.”

Jim nodded and stubbed out the amber end of his cigarette in an ashtray beside the sauce bottles. “Easy enough job, minimum wage, you keep any tips you make.” He listed off each point on his fingers. “You start tomorrow.”

You could only nod back, eager and grateful. “Of course, yeah, sure. Uh— do I need—?”

Jim waved you off, already standing as he lit up another cigarette. “Just come by for eight, Eddie’ll sort you out with a uniform, locker, that kinda stuff.”

You frowned, confused. Looking around the quiet diner, you wondered if there was someone you hadn’t noticed before, but the number of visible staff members remained the same. The two boys in the kitchen, the pretty cool who you’d spoken to back at the stove, tasting its contents with a teaspoon.

“Uh,” you coughed awkwardly, feeling stupid. “I thought— I thought there wasn’t an Eddie who worked here?” You pointed warily to the boy with the messy curls, the black tattoos across his exposed forearms, he was staring at you, like he knew you were talking about him. He was scowling. “He said there wasn’t.”

The noise and heat of the diner and the summer outside didn’t do anything to diminish the embarrassment you felt at Jim’s next words. His gaze followed to where you were pointing and snorted. “Kid, that is Eddie.”

#Eddie munson #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson oneshot #Eddie munson imagine #linecook!eddie

[gyuuberryy]

mischief (definitely not) managed!

pairing: enemy!heeseung x reader

summary: you stumble upon heeseung in a late night adventure through the halls of hogwarts. what follows next is completely unexpected, but maybe not unwanted.

genre: hogwarts au, e2l?, angst, fluff

warnings: making out(kinda), flirty heeseung, simping, magic stuff ig

note: i literally rushed through this fic so i could make up for the time it’s taking to write jungwon fic. besides, i’ve seen way too many heeseung edits on tt and can’t stop thinking about him. i hope you like this!

word count: 2kish

If you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

it was a regular day. you woke up, had a basic breakfast, and went to classes where nothing special happened—just the usual tasks and lectures. the evening was ordinary too, with a simple dinner and some time spent with friends before it was curfew for all the students. nothing stood out; it was just a plain, ordinary day.

you lay in bed, staring blankly at the cream coloured ceiling above you. it had been three hours since you had laid down to sleep, but unfortunately you found no success in succumbing to it. groaning, you sat up and clutched your head due to sleep deprivation. looking around the room you noticed that all of your roommates were sound asleep. huffing in slight envy, you shuffled out of bed and poured yourself a glass of water.

gulping down the cool liquid, you looked outside the room’s window. soft streaks of moonlight cast the grounds in an ethereal glow. by the shuffling of leaves on the nearby trees you could tell that it was breezy as well. maybe you should go out for a little bit? it will definitely be relaxing.

you knew it wasn’t allowed but you were too exhausted to care. if you didn’t manage to get at least five hours of sleep, you wouldn’t be able to function the next day. making up your mind, you slid on your slippers, grabbed your wand and silently opened the door to your room and slipped out. 

you were just leaving your dorm’s entrance when something swished past you with remarkable speed. your eyes widened as you stopped in your tracks and looked around. there was no one in the dimly lit corridor except for you. frowning, you resumed your walk towards the open grounds. a few moments later, a loud whooshing sound on your right made you look there questioningly. slowly, you took baby steps in that direction, your eyes widened when you heard a low growl. 

curiosity took over you as you wondered what was happening. determined, you quietly walked into the direction where the sound was coming from. you were just about to peek into a classroom, when you were suddenly pulled behind the wall next to it. your back hit a sturdy chest and you were just about to scream before a warm hand covered your mouth.

a voice rasped softly into your ear, their warm breath hitting your nape “what are you doing here?”

you could recognise that voice from a mile away. it was none other than lee heeseung, the bane of your existence. your biggest rival. the handsome boy was always around you, never giving you a second to breathe peacefully, always annoying you and making fun of you. of course, you always quipped right back at him, never letting him win. it definitely is very hard to get him off of your back, because he was here with you also, the time where he was supposed to be sleeping in his dorm.

you were slowly becoming aware of the arm wrapped tightly around your waist. cheeks heating up at the proximity, you whacked his arm and pushed him away from yourself. 

“that’s none of your business lee”, you hissed.

unimpressed, he just raised an eyebrow at you. looking you up and down, he smirked.

“nice outfit.”

you mentally groaned as you realised you were still in your nightwear which consisted of an old baggy t-shirt and shorts. you frowned when you noticed that heeseung was in his school robes. stupid heeseung, he always has to be the best at everything doesn’t he.

ignoring his comment, you whispered in a frustrated tone, “what are you doing here? it’s not like you’re supposed to be here either”. 

“the same thing you are here for.”

a serious expression took over your face as you stepped closer to him. “you heard those noises too?”

he nodded and looked at the wall beside him as if he could see what was going on in the classroom behind it. 

you only shook your head at him and turned away, ready to walk out, “well, i don’t know why you pulled me here, but i’m going to check out what’s happening in there.”

before you could move, he grabbed your arm once again.

“are you mental? you can’t just walk in there!”

you frowned at his foolishness, “i’m not going to walk in there genius.” you pressed your lips, “i’m going to secretly watch them.”

shaking his hand off your arm, you went to do exactly what you had just said. situating yourself right next to the doorway of the classroom, you listened for the voices. it seemed like they were facing the other way, making your hideout spot perfect to not be seen.

once you felt it safe, you slightly peeked through the crack of the door. it was very dark but you vaguely made out two silhouettes standing at the corner of the class. suddenly, a shadow loomed over you and you rolled your eyes in annoyance as you realised the taller boy had followed you and was now doing what you were.

a few minutes passed as you watched what the two shadowy figures did inside the room. they were muttering some sort of a spell which created a small glowing ball of red light that hovered in the air before them. it made weird gurgling noises and let out occasional growls. it was quite creepy to be honest.

“whoa, that’s definitely illegal”, heeseung mumbled from above you.

you remained silent, trying to figure out what they were trying to do. you vaguely remember reading something about a spell which created that glowy thing. you were lost in your thoughts, when suddenly the ball burst and expanded into a red glow across the room. 

in shock, heeseung clutched onto your arm and dug his nails into it. you groaned and whipped your head to your side to look up at him.

“can you stop being such a weakling.”

“i just got startled okay!” he frowned, “why are you being so grumpy today?”

“that’s because you’re everywhere i go!” you snapped meanly, “i wanted to do this by myself, but no, you just had to be here as well.”

a moment of silence passed between you two, you growing uncomfortable by the second at the way heeseung was looking at you. there’s no way he felt hurt by your words right? you both do this all the time.

before you could say or do anything, he narrowed his eyes at you and spoke in a low tone, “fine then, i’ll get out of your business.”

he was turning around to walk away, but he tripped over your foot because of the way he was positioned behind you. he fell on the smooth marble floor with a loud thud, making you gasp and drop your wand at the sudden sound. 

you both looked at each other in fear as you heard sounds of shuffling come from the classroom behind you. they had  heard the commotion.

you quickly grabbed your wand and extended a hand out towards heeseung, “we have to hide, now!”

immediately, he grabbed your hand and pulled you behind the same wall as he had done earlier. your eyes widened in fear at his actions.

“this is not a good place you dimwit-”

“trust me”, he whispered to you, “we don’t have enough time to-”

just as the sound of the classroom door being opened was heard, heeseung pinned you to the wall and smashed his lips against yours. your eyes momentarily widened before you realised what he was doing. playing along, you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him closer to you.

his lips moved against yours furiously and in a rushed manner as he seemed to take out all the pent up frustration on you. you kissed him back with similar intensity, your legs feeling like jelly when he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. he immediately wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you, making you both impossibly closer. this was just supposed to be pretence, why is he literally making out with you?

suddenly, a voice whispered ‘lumos’ right next to you both, making you pull apart from each other in a haste. you gasped for breath as you looked at heeseung’s appearance; his blonde hair was sticking out in every direction (he looked really cute), his lips were shiny and swollen, cheeks flushed a deep colour of cherry. you were sure you looked something similar, making your cheeks heat up even more.

“what are you both doing here!”, the person next to you angrily spoke out.

you turned to look at the culprit who was none other than your professor for defence against the dark arts. you weren’t very surprised, he always gave off weird and evil vibes. he was definitely doing something shady.

neither of you said a word, waiting for him to make the next move.

the professor walked closer to you both and snarled, “you’re committing acts of public display of affection, during curfew that too!”

heeseung smiled at him sweetly as he said the next words, “but sir there’s no public here is there?”

you could literally see smoke coming out of the professor’s ears as his breathing grew heavy. you elbowed heeseung in the ribs and glared at him in warning but he just grinned back at you playfully. you sighed and turned back towards the man in front of you.

“we’re extremely sorry professor, this won’t happen aga-”

“back to your dorms, both of you” he yelled, interrupting you, “and fifty points from both of your houses!”

you grabbed heeseung’s hand and immediately scurried off, no longer wanting to stand in the presence of the angry professor. while on your run away from him, you almost stopped at the sight of a silhouette of a boy covered in school robes in one of the corridors. you frowned at that. that must be the second person from the room. 

slowing down to a stop once you got far enough, you tried removing your hand from his, but he didn’t let you and tightened his grasp instead. you looked up at him in question to see his doe eyes staring back at you in worry.

“are you okay love?”

you were sure you were going to combust on the spot from the endearing nickname he used for you. since when did that start?

“i’m fine”, you cleared your throat and looked anywhere but his eyes, your eyes unwantedly dropping down to his lips that were still a deep shade of pink from making out the kiss.

you immediately looked away, but it was too late. he had already noticed that. he smirked and walked towards you, making you back up till your back hit the wall behind you. he put up an arm beside your head and leaned down till he was towering over you only by a little. 

“you’re a good kisser, you know that?”

you gulped in nervousness as you stared back up at him. the close proximity was really not helping you hide it. he lowly chuckled at the change in your behaviour from your usual confident attitude. the low tone of his voice reached your ears, making your stomach do flips. in a feeble attempt to hide your attraction, you looked to your left where his arm was caging you in and almost drooled at the sight of veins bulging out from it. why is lee heeseung so unbelievably hot?

your eyes widened at his next words as he continued from the compliment.

“wanna do it again?”

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung fics #heeseung oneshots #kpop fics #hogwarts au #enhypen hogwarts au #ady_writes

[yeokii]

⌗ ADORE YOU ﹕이희승 (TEASER)

꒰ synopsis ꒱ all hopes were crushed when you realized there was no way to get close to your crush, choi beomgyu. your advances to get close to him never seemed to work. so, you decided to get closer to his best friend, heeseung, by joining the broadcasting club. but as scripts change, so do crushes, and you end up falling for his best friend instead.

▸ auditions are open . . . !

ㅤ❕MATCHMAKER ── crush bsf ! heeseung x reader

fast forward  ⃕ [ genre ] : written, fluff, angst, 90s au, unrequited love

meet the members ! beomgyu, gaeul, jungwon, taehyun, juyeon [more tba.]

warnings 𖧷 [only in this scene] unrequited love, yn kinda uses hee, thats all I think

ㅤhe's a real catch ▹ est. 2OK

⌕ [ archives ] one result found . . . hi (still on hiatus kinda) js came here to post the fic teaser :D (im prolly gna post this after mocks or after my igcses) also ty @yenqa sewlmate for writing the synopsis (ly dookie) send an ask or comment to be added in the taglist !

THE FALL OF NINETEEN-NINETY SIX MARKED A PIVOTAL MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE. Ever since you came into the world, you never really could grasp the concept of love.

You wrapped your head around the myths and tales your mother would read to you every night. You thought that every princess would have her own shining knight in armor. So, after thirteen years of living, where was yours?

Your knight in shining armor, or knights in shining armor, existed within the pages of the comic books you read. You often wondered if they would magically pop out of your books and transport you into their world. Similarly, you wondered whether any of the characters from your adored TV shows would step out and bring you into their lives.

So, it wasn't a surprise when your jaw dropped to the ground as you saw the most beautiful man in your life (well, technically, boy). If the epitome of beauty was a fourteen-year-old boy, it would be Beomgyu.

But it wasn’t just his face that made your thirteen-year-old self swoon over him, it was also the way he acted. You loved the way he conversed, his smooth way of talking at a young age and the way he smiled at you every time he made jokes with his friends. You loved how his eyes lightened every time he’d pull a silly prank.

But the problem was, he never talked to you. You admired him from afar. You never actually had the guts to talk to him, as if. You were content with watching his funny actions from a distance.

There were some moments when you pushed aside your nervousness and talked to him. You remember having butterflies in your stomach the moment you first talked to him. There were times when you both were paired up as project partners for a biology assessment and at that moment, you swore you could’ve worshiped the floor that your biology teacher walked on due to her giving you an opportunity like this.

You knew this was an opportunity to make your move. And you did. You brought him small snacks with little notes on them. Gave him gifts regularly. Maybe even took lessons from your best friend on how to subtly flirt with him. You really thought you had him. Because whenever you used to play out these little acts, you saw the subtle smile on his face. You were so close. It’s like the universe laid it out for you. Gosh, how lucky you were!

Luck. The luck that you thought you had. If luck was a person, you would’ve tackled it to the ground already. Because the day you were about to confess to him was the day he announced his new girlfriend. 

His first girlfriend. You doubt you called it ‘love’ since the only thing she cared about was that he was popular and pretty. That’s it! All that girl could get from Beomgyu was his looks and his reputation. You could’ve scoffed at the sight.

Beomgyu was so much more than that. He was loyal, kind, and trustworthy. And she went for his looks. Even though she had him, you felt as if she was missing out on so much. You were partly sad due to them getting together and also due to Beomgyu getting used to his looks.

So, you were practically prancing when you heard the news of their breakup a month later. Did you care that Beomgyu was absolutely heartbroken? Well, yes, but you felt relieved that Beomgyu was finally unleashed from that mean troll's wrath.

And as he got older, he grew more handsome. And God did you love it. When you entered high school he was a completely different person. He had gotten more flirty and way more pretty. He was way out of your league. 

Out of the years you were in this crappy high school, you made absolutely no improvement in your and Beomgyu’s relationship. Beomgyu, who kept getting new flings every summer and tons of situationships seemed to discard your existence. One could only say ‘What the fuck?’

Your thoughts swirled, and you had a collection of emotions roaming around your head until your best friend jolted you back into reality with a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

“Are you even listening?” Seori’s voice cut through your thoughts, annoyed, since she had to explain what she was talking about in the first place.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You blinked, focusing your attention on your best friend.

She sighs, “I was saying that I think Doyoung is going to ask me out.” Seori pouts “Why does he not get that I don’t like him that way, jeez.”

Her ramble about her current boy toy washed out in the background. You were once back in your thoughts until you saw him heading into the cafeteria. Beomgyu entered the cafeteria, his smile widening at something his best friend said. 

Lee Heeseung, Beomgyu’s best friend. His ride or die. As long as you can remember, they were attached to the hip. They were basically the package deal. If Beomgyu was the life of the party, Heeseung would hold up his hair while he threw up in the host’s toilet. While Beomgyu was the exact depiction of a social butterfly, Heeseung remained aloof, keeping people at arm’s length. You could only wonder how he dealt with Beomgyu’s outbursting personality.

“Earth to Yn!” Seori snapped her fingers in front of your face which once again, brought you back to reality.

“Sorry.” You sheepishly smiled looking at your best friend's annoyed face. Your friend followed the gaze you had fixed before looking over to her. And her eyes followed the trail of your alleged ‘man’–– Beomgyu.

“Him again.”A sigh erupted from Soeri, having enough of your rambling over your four-year-old crush.

“I’m sorry, alright!” You pouted, your back hunching over the disappointing development between you two which was nowhere to be found. “He’s just so cute, God!”

Your sigh was followed by your best friend. Not long after, your best friend’s fed-up expression converted into a rather eager one.

“I got it!” She exclaimed, her hand hitting your back while she practically screamed. You winced in pain as a few fellow students gave you judgemental stares.

“All you have to do is be close with his best friend, Lee Heeseung.” She slowly said, almost like a mastermind coming up with a villainous plan–well, you would consider your best friend to be some sort of evil criminal.

But this, this opened new angles in your head. It felt like the universe–or more like your best friend–laid it out for you again. Your once unsolvable puzzle showed a new direction, and the missing piece was all in front of you. 

Okay, maybe you felt bad that you were going to use Heeseung like that, even looking forward to it. But, you were really desperate. To the point where you would actually be eager to attend Sunday mass just to ask God for Beomgyu to like you back or even spare one glance at you. Well, what could you do? 

Out of excitement, you pulled Seori in for a hug with a squeal while giving her a kiss on the cheek which she in return, yelped. “Seori, you’re a genius!”

“Yes, I know.” She laughed a bit, escaping your tight grip on her before wiping the spot you kissed her hastily with her hands.

“I mean, how hard could it be?” 

You smiled and your gaze wet up to the boy you loved for most of your life, then slowly to the equally handsome boy.

Jackpot.

adore you tags . @wonsbaer @isoobie @armydrcamers @heegyuwrld @nxzz-skz @txtlyn @enhastolemyheart @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @sumzysworld @eleanorheartschishiya @petalsofink @bluujeans @jvjsssnaa @iamliacamila @m3chigo @oldjws @kyrjnie @heartswonn @aeminju @en-dream @yeahsspider

tags . @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom @redm4ri @hanniluvi @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss

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