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scaredpigeons · 4 months

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Aqua Regia VII: Saturate me, I can’t get enough.

Previous chapter // First Chapter

Neuvillette x Fem!reader

Warning: SMUT NSFW 18+ MDNI

Word count: 5.7k

Conifer forests quake in fear at the way you two pine. What do you get when you cross a very pent up dragon and the object of his affections? So much fucking love it will rot your teeth.

CW: sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (fem rec) neuvillette has a dragon tongue, claws appear but no wounds are made, Neuvillettes nest™️ nicknames: my dearest, my darling, love, pretty girl, perfect girl, very gendered language, im sorry :( unrealistic first time sex, multiple orgasms, implied multiple rounds.

Authors note: this is so fucking mushy gushy heavy fluff heavy romance. I literally couldn’t write his first time being any other way. He’s obsessed, okay? There is a lot of declarations of love, devotion, very flowery and flattering language. There are not many things hotter than an all powerful being declaring their utter devotion to you and then fucking you until the sun rises. I left it a little open ended, so maybe an epilogue chapter, if y’all are interested? Anyways, remember to reblog and comment your thoughts! It’s my literal favourite thing to read your opinions and compliments, even if you’re shy, just send an anon ask! I love you all, thank you so much for your support on this piece.

————————————

The sound of little pearls scattering onto the floor accompanied the press of your spine against the inside of Neuvillette’s front door as his mouth consumed yours.

You were panting, hands roaming over each other as your tongues danced. You’d never kissed like this before. The polite pecks you’ve given men after failed dates were nothing compared to the way Neuvillette drank in your lips like they were the finest water in the world.

His large, lean body pushed you against the fine wood of his door, hands pressing up into your hair as he pulled your face ever closer, scattering more little pearls along his entryway.

“Do you…” he panted, lips never leaving yours for more than necessary. “Truly want tea?” He asked.

You smiled as he continued to kiss you breathless. “Tea can wait.”

He picked you up and hoisted you against him once more, your bottom resting on his forearms as he twirled you around, making you giggle and squeal.

“Your perfection knows no bounds.” He murmured against your lips as he began to move towards the stairs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you up the stairs and down the hall, but he hesitated before bringing you into what you guessed was his room.

“Ah…” he said, a deeper blush working its way into his pale skin. “I forgot about my… well you see…”

You smiled, pulling him closer to press a peck to his lips. ”What? I can hardly imagine your room is messy, Neuvillette.”

He closed his eyes tight, opening the door to set you down inside. You turned, looking around the room.

A very large four poster bed was the main focal point of the room, lush sheer curtains hanging from the tall frame, making it seem luxurious and inviting. But the piles of silks, pillows and blankets surrounding the mattress making a large circle in the center was what stood out the most to you. Taking a step closer, you could see there were little things scattered throughout the barrier, the gloves you’d gifted him last month, a few shirts and coats, little trinkets and things here and there.

Your brow furrowed before you turned to look up at him, finding him looking between you and the bed with a hand covering the lower half of his face.

“It looks like…” you glanced back at the bed. “It looks like a nest?”

He breathed, nodding, pinching his temples in embarrassment. “When you were last here, we spoke of some subtle changes I’d been experiencing since gaining my full dragonhood, yes?”

You nodded, walking towards the bed to run your hands along the fabrics making up the walls of the nest.

“I’ve been experiencing strange urges, instincts I cannot seem to control no matter how hard I try.” He said lowly, somewhere behind you.

The blanket you ran your hands across was soft, fur of some sort, and it felt so luxurious you wanted to bury your face in it and never leave its soothing embrace.

“Urges?” You said, feeling a heat pool between your thighs at the thought.

“Yes.” His voice was suddenly right by your ear, his heat pressing up against your spine. “For example, right now, seeing you next to my bed, admiring my nest— it makes me want to pick you up and place you within it so that I may crawl over top of you to do deplorable, feral and unspeakable things to you.”

A deep, spine tingling shiver raced through you. You knew the general direction of where this was headed when you begged him to take you to his house, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect Neuvillette to admit something so… dirty… so openly.

You turned, meeting his eyes with a gasp as you came face to face with a version of your leader you’d never seen.

He was flushed, panting, his eyes glowing in the moonlight streaming into his dark room. His horns were glowing too, their blue hue radiating behind him as he loomed over you. To anyone else it might’ve been intimidating, but you felt so safe in this moment, so satisfied to know that he wanted you.

“I…” you wondered how you should phrase this, how to make him understand that you were not put off in the slightest by any of these changes in him. To you, he was still Neuvillette. His draconian quirks made him all the more desirable because it was just another part of him.

“I’d like to help you satisfy those urges, if you’ll let me.” You said, looking up at him through your lashes.

Very suddenly, he dropped to his knees, his hands clutching at your dress. The act startled you, and you stumbled back, bumping into the walls of fabrics lining his nest.

”I am undeserving,” he whimpers, and your legs nearly give out at how broken he sounds in this moment, looking up at you. “I know not how to pleasure you in the way you are so deserving, I only have these instincts, these feelings pushing me to take.”

He stumbled forward, almost blindly on his knees as his eyes kept yours locked to him. He pushes his face closer to your core, inhaling deeply against the fabric of your dress, his eyes fluttering back.

“And you always smell so sweet, it eats at my very soul to not taste you at every moment of every day.” His eyes look like they’re watering, begging and pleading as he keeps talking, keeps sending waves of pleasure to your core with every word spoken.

“You deserve more than this animal I’ve become, but I cannot help that you undo me. You unravel the very stitching that I have woven over these past five hundred years and the thought terrifies me because—“ he’s panting, chest heaving, hands gripping the crushed velvet of your gown. “Because I want you so completely, so entirely. My want for you consumes my very being.”

Your heart sings, because how could it not? You didn’t have very much experience with anything like this either— really none at all. And he was worried? He was worried he was too much? Not enough? This man was the sovereign ruler of a nation. The elemental dragon of your land, a primordial being with more power than you could even begin to fathom.

“Oh, Neuvillette,” you brought a hand to cup his cheek, the very same action you made the last time you were in his home, comforting him. “Will you do something for me?”

He clutched you closer, pupils nearly consuming his irises. “I would drain the seas if you told me you did not favor the way they glimmer in the sunshine. I would blot out the sun if you told me you did not enjoy the heat on your skin. Anything, my dearest. Anything for you.”

“Give in to it.” And you swore you could feel the breath catching in his chest. “Take me and give me everything your heart desires, because I am already yours.”

”Truly?” He pleaded, seeming so small below you.

You nodded, speaking softly to him as you ran your fingertips across his cheekbone. “From the moment I entered your office Neuvillette, I’ve been yours.”

Your world flipped upside down as Neuvillette lunged, tackling you over the wall of his nest and into the bed.

He kissed you so deeply it stole your breath away, you gasped as he pulled back to mouth across your jaw, nipping at your throat.

You noticed his teeth had grown sharper during your fervent kissing, but feeling those teeth drag like little daggers against the delicate skin of your throat made you shiver with something like fear— but it was laced with arousal, with anticipation.

You moaned as he licked and sucked on your neck, and he whimpered above you, clutching your waist as he went.

“I'm sorry, I’m sorry—“ he said between kisses along your skin. “I can’t control myself, I can't—“

You reached up, grabbing his face in your hands, making him look at you.

“Neuvillette, listen to me.” His eyes fluttered between yours, searching.

“When I told you I love you, that means I love you without conditions.” You said, leaning up to kiss his lips gently. “Which means I will love you when you are poise and regal, when you are the perfect gentleman, but I will also love you when you are not.”

You could see iridescent blue scales rising into his skin, framing his eyes so beautifully. You could see them form around his throat, and his horns continued to glow. When he told you he was becoming undone, you knew he was serious, but you didn't realize what exactly that would entail.

He was beautiful. Raw and open and completely yours.

“I will love you even if you are rough, or crude, or selfish. I will not watch you suffer against your instincts when I so desperately wish to see you dive headfirst into them.”

The subtlest of tears formed in his eyes, and the rain continued to batter the windows outside, pouring down around you— the perfect symphony to accompany this moment.

“I love every aspect of you, Neuvillette. Even this. Please,” you whispered, pulling him ever closer to your lips. “Please, just take what you need. Take me.”

———————————

He does not remember how your dress and petticoat managed to find themselves sprawled across his bedroom floor, or when his gloves and shirt followed, but he does remember the delightful squeak you gave when he tore them from your body.

You were shy, of course you were— but he was having none of that, gently and selfishly pinning your arms against the bed as his eyes consumed your body, your naked skin.

You squirmed and whimpered underneath him, and part of Neuvillette worried that you weren’t enjoying yourself— but the closer he came to your lower half the more he realized that the source of that mouthwatering smell was coming from between your legs, and his mouth did indeed water.

You had told him to let go of his restraint, to give in, but he had the sense to keep part of himself in check, knowing he needed to be somewhat gentle, attentive to your needs.

What knowledge he did have of this process was from books, and even then, he thinks the last time he read a romance novel was likely over a century ago.

He knew basic anatomical structures, their functions, but putting it all into practice was another thought entirely.

Through his lust filled haze of admiring your naked body, he swallowed the drool pooling in his mouth— so barbaric.

“Tell me,” he panted. “Tell me how to make this pleasurable for you.”

You were so red, it fluttered down to your chest, and he watched as your breasts heaved with each breath. He wanted to wrap his lips around them, suck on the delicate skin, so he did.

You whined as he leaned down, and he loved the feeling of your hands mussing up his hair, pulling his golden circlet away and tossing it into the void that had captured the rest of your clothes with a clattering sound.

“You, ah—” your breaths were heavy. “You have to work me open. So you don’t tear me.”

He gripped your waist again, licking and sucking gracelessly across your chest, just enjoying the taste of your skin.

“How?” He asked, tonguing his way down to your navel, slipping his tongue around the skin of your adorable stomach. Your skin tasted like pure relief, calming the aching fever inside of him one motion of his tongue at a time.

“F-fingers?” You said, looking down at his hands. He looked too, and you both seemed to notice at the same time that his hands weren’t exactly… normal anymore.

Those pesky scales had wound up coating his hands too, he could feel them aching around his eyes and throat, his nails forming long black claws that dragged the faintest red lines along your perfect skin.

“Hah— yeah,” you breathed a panicked laugh, making his chest flutter with anxiety. “Maybe no fingers this time.”

“What about my tongue?” He said, looking between your eyes and the apex of your thighs. He wanted so desperately to make this good for you, but he couldn't deny that the thought of tasting that delicious smell directly from the source was a more than appetizing idea.

You groaned, throwing your hands up to cover your flushed face. “You say it so casually, too—“

“Would you enjoy it if I used my tongue, darling?”

He watched your thighs clench the best they could with him between your legs, and your hands started shaking.

“Yes,” you whimpered, hands still covering your heated face. “Yes please.”

Your thighs quivered as he shifted down, his nostrils flaring as he came face to face with your covered core.

There was a small damp spot on the soft cotton covering you, and he brought his nose directly to it, inhaling deep and groaning as you whined.

He was truly drooling now, and the desire to taste you became too overwhelming for him to wait any longer.

The cotton was shredded off your body in delicate ribbons in the wake of his claws, but before you could react, his tongue was already swiping over the entire length of you.

“Oh!” Your back arched sinfully off the bed, your hands gripping into his hair as he swallowed and sucked and licked over you. You tasted like perfection. No water in the world could taste as crisp and pure as you did— like sweet ambrosia, like everything he never knew he needed until now.

He tongued over your clitoris, and you seemed to like that the most, keening out as he increased the pressure. But you said you needed to be worked open, which meant…

He pressed his tongue lower, circling it around your twitching hole. You jumped, your nails scraping his scalp— making him moan into you. Your fingers flexed around the base of his horns, and his whole body shuddered as he listened to you whine and keen.

He pressed in then, eyes blowing wide as a warm, tight heat enveloped the tip of his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further, pulling himself closer to press more of himself inside you.

”Neuvillette!” You gasped out as he pushed in further. Even so, He couldn't help but feel like it wasn’t enough, like you needed more.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, his tongue seemed to expand, thickening and rolling out into your twitching walls even further. He’d never felt a change like that before, but he kept going, moving and undulating it within your tight heat and savoring the taste of you so deep.

”Holy—“ you screeched, “Oh my Archons!”

A deep, chest rumbling growl reverberated from where Neuvillette was pressed into your core, and even though he knew it wasn’t truly a problem, something inside him did not enjoy hearing those words slip from your precious lips.

But you told him to let go, so he truly did lean into his instincts.

He pulled his tongue from within you, letting its new length dangle from his mouth a bit before licking up all the slick that had smeared across his face, delighted at the way your eyes popped and your mouth gaped open.

“There are no pathetic gods here, little one.” He growled, that primal aching welling up in his chest. “Only me.”

“N-Neuvillette,” you stuttered, hands grabbing at his hair as you tried to pull him between your legs again. “Please—“

“Better.”

He dove back in, using the new length of his tongue to thrust in and out of your dripping hole. He could feel your soft walls relaxing, and a deep, rumbling purr pulled from his chest as you writhed and moaned beneath him.

Tasting you like this, feeling you move and cry out beneath his hold… it was slowly soothing the ache inside of him that had been tormenting him for months. He could feel himself twitching in his pants, his cock pressing against the confines as it leaked all over the fine material of his pants and briefs.

In the back of his mind, he was grateful he had enough of a grip on his form to not be sporting one of his more… alarming draconic features, surely that would frighten you far too much to continue. Well, perhaps another time.

He continued his thrusting, working you open and relishing in the wetness coating his tongue, in the way you cried out his name, your fingertips brushing against his horns as you pulled at his hair. It only served to make him drool more, soaking you even further.

“Neuvillette—“ you keened as he arched his tongue upwards, feeling your walls clench and quiver around him. He repeated the motion, making you slap your hands down to the bed beside you, grasping at the sheets as your eyes popped wide.

He continued to press against the spot that seemed to make you fall deeper into your pleasure, his eyes never leaving your face as he thrust his tongue with vigor, watching as you quivered.

Yes, something inside him purred, watching you lose yourself. Keep going, take it from her.

He felt the moment your walls tightened so completely that he thought something might be wrong— only to watch as your face shattered into a broken sob of pure delight, your whole body twitching as you cried out. Your thighs tried to clamp around his head, but he pressed further, working you through it with his writhing tongue.

After a few moments of him working you through the height of your pleasure, you grasped at his hair again, only now you were pushing him back, gasping as your body violently twitched.

“Too much—“ you squeaked. “T-too much!”

He pulled back from you, licking your remaining juices from his lips as he watched you regain your breath.

You threw an arm over your eyes, your every breath heaving in your chest as parts of your body twitched in the aftershocks.

He crawled over your body, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he purred and murmured against your skin to comfort you.

”Your taste is divine,” he whispered. “Better than I ever could have dreamed, and my dreams were always drenched in your image.”

“I—“ you sighed, finally pulling air into your chest unlabored. “I dream of you too.”

“Oh?” He purred, smiling against your skin as he ran his hands down your arms. “And what exactly do you dream of, dearest?”

You smiled, staring up at the ceiling and avoiding his gaze with flushed cheeks.

“Your eyes.” You whispered, glancing down at him. “I dream of the way you look at me.”

———————

You knew this was going to be a lot.

Neuvillette is not a small man by any stretch of the imagination, but you always figured he would at least be a reasonable size — whatever that may be.

Clearly your expectations were a little on the small side, because when he unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down and off his body, exposing his naked skin in all its glory, your eyes ached with how wide they were staring openly at the apex of his creamy white thighs.

Flushed a ruddy purplish red at the tip, it was literally leaking as he knelt between your spread legs. It twitched—he must’ve noticed your staring, and you chewed on your bottom lip, wondering how in all the abyss you were supposed to fit that thing inside of you.

Neuvillette was panting. He looked irrevocably desperate, like he was ready to burst at the seams at any moment.

“Neuvillette,” you whimpered, spreading your thighs further for him.

He hadn’t touched you since he took his pants off, just staring down at you as you drank him in, watching your reactions.

“Are…” he seemed strained, like the words themselves pained him. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” you whined. “Please, inside me, I want you inside.”

He seemed to bite back a groan, eyes roaming over your soaked core, your blush traveling down your chest. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips.

It was delicate, loving, nothing like the unrestrained devouring before, but it still seemed like he was holding himself back. A beautiful bowstring pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Neuvillette,” you murmured against his lips. “Please, I want it. I trust you, I want you, please.”

Your pleading seemed to stir him, and you could feel the hot press of his length against your aching hole. You didn't know what it would feel like, the anticipation making you tense up and hold your breath.

“Breathe, my love.” Neuvillette said, though he himself was shaking as his hands held him up above you. “Relax, breathe.”

You released a breath and the tension from your spine, melting into the pillows as he chose that moment to breach your entrance, the slick pooling out of you allowing him to slide the crown in with no resistance.

You keened, your back arching as you felt the first push. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!”

Neuvillette was still shaking, his voice quivering and yet he still found it within himself to chuckle, low and deep as his eyes fluttered across your face, drinking in your pleasured reactions.

“Such vulgar language,” he breathed. “Where’d my polite little assistant go?”

You swear your eyes were about to bulge out of your skull as he pushed another inch in, slowly, his body vibrating above you in restraint.

It wasn’t hurting, but the stretch was so intense it was turning your brain into mush. You never swear in front of Neuvillette, gods, you never curse in front of anyone but Wriothesley, but your brain seems to short circuit as Neuvillette enters your body one delicious inch at a time.

You were thankful you told him to stretch you out, thankful for that gods forsaken tongue that just came out of nowhere, long and thick and surprisingly serpentine.

“P-politeness isn’t really…” you tossed your head back in the blankets as he sunk in further. “Isn’t really my main focus… r-right now.”

“Ah, yes.” Neuvillettes words spoke confidence, but his voice was shaking, his arms vibrating as they held him above you. “We have more pressing things to focus on at the moment, don’t we?”

You groaned, half in embarrassment at his wordplay and half at the way he pulled out a bit just to press back in further.

He just licked up the column of your throat, that ridiculously long tongue making your whole body shiver in delight as he pressed in further.

“Holy f—“ you grabbed his forearms, leaning up the best you could to look down at where your bodies were connected. “How much more is there? It’s so… so…”

Your stomach flipped at how much you still had to go, how little your brain could comprehend that this weapon was supposed to fit inside you.

“Do you need me to stop, my darling? Is it too much for you?” Neuvillette breathed against your neck. His words spoke one thing, but it was like his body was screaming for you to say anything but.

“No!” You panicked a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him against your lips, kissing him filthy. “Please, don’t stop.”

It took a couple more minutes of gentle thrusting, the rough texture of this thumb swirling against your throbbing clit and some very messy kisses, but when his hips finally pushed flush against yours, your eyes rolled back in your head, mind finally vacating all thought in favor focusing on how blindingly full you felt.

“Oh,” Neuvillette breathed. “—My darling. My sweet, sweet girl.” His hips were frozen, probably taking in how you clenched around him, because you could feel it— the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around his length as he remained motionless.

He twitched, and you keened, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring his face level with yours, panting into his mouth. “Please,” you whined. “Please move.”

He shuddered before hesitantly bringing his hips back, watching your every breath as he pressed forward again.

The deep, guttural moan it pulled from your chest must have flipped some kind of switch within him, because all sense of hesitancy seemed to drain from his body as his hips began a desperate rhythm, smacking against yours.

“Ah!” Your back arched, eyes rolling into your skull as he finally, finally fucked you. “Neuvi— Neuvillette!”

His eyes seemed glazed over with emotions, looking down at you with so much wonder. His expression was strained, breaths coming short as his hands snaked down to your hips, leaning back up and away from your grip.

The change in angle, though minuscule, drastically altered the way his cock pummeled your insides. It was intense before, your mind was nearly floating in the clouds— but now his cock bullied itself along your most sensitive spot and pressed so deep within you, you were sure you could nearly taste it.

”Perfect,” he breathed. “My perfect, perfect girl. So warm and tight— it's like you were made to take me.”

Your brain had exited the atmosphere, and was now drifting away into the deep nothingness of space. You swore you could feel your orgasm welling in the pit of your core, making your legs shake where they were perched on Neuvillettes hips.

“It— it feels so good,” your words were starting to slur, your vision hazy with unshed tears of pure ecstasy as you blinked up at him. “I n-never— I never wanna stop. I want this forever.”

His hips never faltered, not even once as he shuddered and groaned, the sound making you clench down around him even more. His hands gripped your waist tighter, the black claws digging into your skin, sure to leave marks.

A possessive sort of noise rumbled from his chest, his eyes flaring with need.

“I’ll give you all of myself until the end of time,” he murmurs, voice full of deep, rasping need. “Tell me you’re mine, I’ll give you everything.”

Your heart welled, your eyes blinking tears as your legs shook harder.

“I’m yours,” you cried. “I love you, Neuvillette. I’m yours.”

He pushed at your legs, hands grabbing your thighs to press them up and forward, nearly folding you in half as you sobbed out in pleasure. Your body ached, your orgasm now on the very precipice as he managed to fuck into you even deeper than before, and you didnt know how it was possible.

“Again.” He growled.

“I’m yours!” You keened.

His hands pressed harder into your thighs, his face leaning closer to yours. Through your haze, you could see how his pupils were blown wide, consuming all of his otherworldly irises. You could see how deeply he looked at you, drinking in your trembling form.

“Mine.” He whispered.

And that was all it took for the fraying cord inside you to snap.

You screamed into the darkness of his room, writhing and shaking as it pulsed through you, all consuming and more intense than anything you’d ever felt in your life. He gasped, muttering something in a language you didn't recognize as his hips stuttered. He pushed you through it, the mind melting pleasure pulsing out into your limbs, making you go limp into the bed.

His eyes were wild, and his pace slowed, hands holding onto you like you would slip away if he didn’t.

“My love,” he moaned, desperate as the fluttering aftershocks worked through you, your body twitching in the sensitive overstimulation. “My love, I want to— I need—“

“Inside me,” your voice cracked, hoarse from how loud you’d been in your revelry, but it only seemed to spur him on. “Please, inside me.”

And within the last three stuttering strokes, he was gone, his forehead pressing into yours as he leaned forward and moaned, long and wrecked and obscene. It made you flutter around him, milking him absolutely dry as he filled and filled and filled you.

You could feel it, hot and heavy— each jerk of him inside you coating you further, marking you in white, in the deepest places as his.

He was mumbling, his face moving to press into the curve of your neck and shoulder. Dazed, you couldn’t tell what he was saying— whether he was speaking in another language or if you were just too out of it to register his words.

You lifted an arm to rest on his back, feeling the heat and the sweat of him. Unfazed, you drag your hand up and down his shoulder blades, relishing in the feeling of his skin, his breath as he murmurs against your neck.

As your breath finally steadied in your lungs, no longer struggling, you ran your hands through his long, luscious hair, fingertips ghosting his horns.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said aloud, clear and in a language you understood. “I’m sorry.”

”What for?” You smiled, trying to get him to look at you. When you finally pried him from the crook of your shoulder, your heart skipped a beat at how flushed he still was, how guilty he looked.

It was then that you realized he was still inside you, still hard as before, twitching and throbbing as he held himself above you.

“You begged me to take you,” he breathed, clawed hands pulling at the sheets. “And I can’t help but crave more.”

————————————

The sun had just begun rising over the dewy cypress trees by the time Neuvillette sat in the warm bath, cradling you in his arms.

You twitched and groaned in displeasure as he ran the washcloth along your heated skin, but he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride at the marks scattered along your body.

He’d been too afraid to hurt you, but after the moan you let out when his teeth accidentally scraped across your collarbone during the second round, (or was it the third?) he’d lost all sense of decency. You seemed to like them as well, and you certainly liked when he ran his tongue across the red and purple splotches to soothe them. So, c’est la vie.

Your head lolled against his shoulder, you were barely conscious at this point, and he wanted to feel guilty, he really did. But you’d begged and begged and begged for him to take what he needed, how could he refuse?

He pulled the glass bottle he’d brought from the cooler to your lips, stirring you a bit to prompt you to drink.

“Please, my love. You need to rehydrate.” He smiled at the way you pouted, But opened your lips to take tentative sips anyways, your eyes still closed.

He watched a trail of water slip past your lax lips and run down your chin and throat, his eyes carefully following the movement. He swallowed deeply, willing away the erection that was still threatening the dark corners of his willpower.

He could honestly keep going, he couldn't get enough of you, but you were still so fragile, so incredibly mortal. He knew that he had to stop, give you a moment of reprieve. Force himself to behave until your sweet voice would sing to him again, begging him for more. He licked his lips at the thought.

“Are… are your urges… satisfied?” You mumbled as he pulled the bottle away. You cuddled up to him, so sleepy.

He thought very carefully on how to reply to you.

“For now, yes. They are, darling.” He finally said. “But I believe I will always desire you as strongly as I did then— as I do now, still.”

You gave a sleepy smirk, your eyes still closed as you snuggled closer to him, your bare skin pressed so beautifully against his.

This— this was perfect. He didn't think anything else could compare to the feeling of being inside you, so connected to your body and in tune with your emotions. But this… being with you, holding you and caring for you… it was just as beautiful. His heart felt full, and for the first time in months, he didn’t feel restless.

“I meant what I said, you know.” He said, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed wistfully. “Which part? Because when you said you were going to ‘spend the rest of your existence finding new ways to make me shatter into millions of delicious little pieces,’ I was rather inclined to believe you.”

He felt his cheeks heat a little. “Ah, well. I meant all of that too. But I’m referring to something I said earlier on in the evening.”

Your voice was wavering, and he could see sleep pulling at you, tugging you into its embrace one sleepy blink at a time. “Which part, my love?”

His chest still fluttered at those words, despite both of your endless proclamations of devotion and love last night, he was still so blissful at the prospect of being yours, of you being his. His love.

“The bit where I told you that I would give you all of me until the end of time. That I’ll give you everything.”

“Mm,” you said, eyes closed and words loose. “I know.”

He ran his hands along your back, his skin finally calmed down closer to the end of the night, his scales and claws retracting and freeing his fingers for nefarious purposes. But now, he was enjoying feeling your smooth skin against his own.

“I have things I must do, duties to this realm beyond that of my role as Iudex. It will be a long and perilous road, a road uneasy for myself and those I love. But in this, as in every other aspect of my life— I feel as though if you stood beside me, it would lighten the burden. You make every part of my life better, and I would be honored to have you beside me for the rest of time.”

He wasn’t sure how, but if he could free the people of Fontaine from their curse, surely he could find a way to keep you with him, if you so wished.

“Your voice is pretty,” you sighed. “I love you,” you were mumbling, and he realized you were already rather deep in the clutches of sleep, likely not even hearing a word he’d said.

He smiled, breathing out a sigh as he kissed the top of your head once more.

“Sleep well, my darling.”

La Fin.

—————————————————————

Authors Note: remember to drop a comment with your thoughts! I love you guys so much 🖤

#genshin impact #genshin impact neuvillette #neuvillette #neuvillette smut #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x reader smut #fem reader #neuvillette fluff #genshin impact smut

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kikohao · 2 months

Note

omg mia im so proud of you you have no idea

okay for event 2

"I just want to be sure we're on the same page." "Page?!? We're not even in the same library!"

this is giving kwannie casual vibes isnt it?

and i trust you <3

write whatever you want and its still gonna be a masterpiece so-

ᅠᅠᅠᅠ ⠀⠀⠀⋆˙. chinese food solves everything!

★ ㅤㅤpairing ; bf!seungkwan x gn!reader ★ ㅤㅤsummary ; in which seungkwan is upset that you didn't text him back ★ ㅤㅤthemes ; established relationship, fluff ★ ㅤㅤwarnings ; cursing, mentions of food, POUTY KWAN ★ ㅤㅤword count ; 0.2k ★ ㅤㅤtaglist ; @nonononranghaee @abodyhasbeenfound @staranghae @prpldahy @starshuas ★ ㅤㅤa/n ; craving chinese food rn + pls dont ask me what this is idk + thank youu hafss !! likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3

"Leave," Seungkwan huffed as he shuffled under his covers like a child who was forbidden sweets. "Oh my god, 'kwan," You sighed heavily, "You're being too dramatic!" As soon as those words left your mouth, he shot up from under the covers, hand on his chest. "Me? I'm being dramatic?" he whispered-yelled, pouting at the same time. "Yes, you. I apologized about a million times! I thought we were on the same page." "Page? We're not even in the same fucking library," He said before hiding underneath his covers again. You go sit next to him, sure he was being insanely dramatic, but that's just how he is. "'Kwan," You whined once more, pulling on the last few characters of his name in an attempt to get his attention. "I'm sorry I forgot to text you last night when I reached home, I forgot, then fell asleep. But come on, you're overreacting" No reply. You sighed, "Guess I've got no one to help me finish the Chinese food I just bought. Oh well, more for me, I guess." You muttered before turning around, head still towards him to see if he budges, which indeed he did.

"Chinese food?"

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miraculousmultifan · 7 months

Text

Steddie Bigbang - The Baby Project

hi everyone!! im so happy to post my submission for the @steddiebang!! i’ve worked really hard on this one, and i’m so proud of how it turned out <3

(also, this fic has art by @danadaria. its linked in the authors notes on ao3, but i’ll also be reblogging it here on tumblr!)

Title: The Baby Project

Author: miraculousmultifan

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Stranger Things

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & the Party, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, the Party, Corroded Coffin, Robin Buckley, Wayne Munson

Tags: Fluff and Humor, Fake/Pretend Relationship, kind of?, Accidental Baby Acquisition, also kind of?, School Project Partners, Aware of Own Bisexuality Steve Harrington, Post-Season 2, Pre-Season 3, Idiots in Love, Getting Together, Slight Angst, Slight Miscommunication

Summary:

Steve turned around with a grin and propped his elbows up on Munson's desk. Then, before he could really think about the words coming out of his mouth, he said, “Guess that makes us married then, huh darling?”

Munson, of course, stared back at him blankly, but instead of backtracking or something, Steve batted his eyelashes for good measure, really hamming it up.

Munson blinked at him once. Then twice. Then he raised an eyebrow and said, deadpan, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

***

In the last month and a half of Steve's senior year, he gets paired up with Eddie Munson for the final project in Mrs. O'Donnell's Home Economics class. The assignment? To take care of a fake baby for four weeks. For some reason, Steve finds himself surprisingly excited. Eddie, not so much.

Word Count: 33,968

#steddiebang23 #mira writes #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson #eddie munson/steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3

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neteyamsoare · 1 year

Text

Lucky.

༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Human!Rotxo x Fem! Human! Reader.

༉‧₊˚. Request From [@livelaughloak]. ok last one i swear. fluff #28 with rotxo please 🙏 thank you, also sia im so proud of you for reaching 500 you’re so amazing.

༉‧₊˚. Summary. You forget to do your homework, luckily you have an amazing best friend to help you.

༉‧₊˚. General Tags. Modern!au, college!au, and fluff.

༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Aged!up Rotxo.

༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 506.

༉‧₊˚. Notes. This is my first Rotxo fic, I’m so excited to put this out, I hope y’all like it!

༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist

Tick tock, tick tock. Time was running out and you still haven’t made any progress on the physics assignment you were supposed to do last night but were too busy binge-watching your [favorite show]. You decided it was best to go to the library and try to get it done before class started but you didn’t notice how hard it could be and now it’s only ten minutes till class starts.

‘I can’t fail this class, I need the credits,’ you thought to yourself as you stared at the blank sheet.

You look across the table to where Rotxo, your best friend, is sitting, studying his notes.

He always waited for when you’d arrive on campus with your [favorite coffee] in his hand and when you said to him that you couldn’t talk much and needed to go to the library, he decided to follow you there saying he needed to study but deep down, he just wanted to be with you.

‘What am I going to do? I can’t go to class empty-handed,’ You think to yourself when your eyes landed on Rotxo again.

“I…I mean… I can ask him if I can copy off of him, of course putting it in my own words,’ you cringe at the thought.

‘No, I can’t ask him to do that,’ ‘But if I go in with a blank sheet, I’m definitely going to fail the class, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,’ you finally made up your mind as you think of a way to bring up the question, you open your mouth slightly to say something but Rotxo beats you to it.

“Let me guess, you want to copy my homework?” he says as his eyes meet your confused gaze.

“W…What, why would you think that?” you let out a nervous chuckle as Rotxo gives an ‘Are you kidding’ face.

“You’re literally my best friend, I know you well enough to know you spent last night watching your show,” he says with a slight smirk on his face.

“Alright fine, I couldn’t resist, it was just so good if I didn’t watch it, I’d have been spoiled,” you said as you watched him playfully roll his eyes at you.

“Please let me copy your homework just this once,” you say as you give him puppy dog eyes knowing he couldn’t resist, he lets out a sigh as he goes into his bookbag, taking out a folder.

“You’re so lucky you’re hot,” he lets out a chuckle as he lays the sheet next to him and you smile as you get up and walk over to him pulling out the chair but before you sit down, you kiss his cheek.

“Thank you so much, Ro, you’re a lifesaver,” you sit and focus on the sheet. “Y...Your welcome,” he says softly as heat rushes to his cheeks knowing that he’ll not forget the kiss you gave him even if it was only on the cheek, he was going to treasure the memory for the rest of his life.

🔖 @livelaughloak, @jakesully-sbabygirl, @kenzi-woycehoski, @fanboyluvr, @onlytays, @amart-e, @vxncxntt, @blep24, @blackheart-stuff, @almondmilk8, @love-chx, @uniltsatirey, @23victoria, @saeayanaa, @aash3, @canaomfa, @neteyamsbaby, @0littlelucy0, @itszmedawn, @strawberryclouds22, @doulcha, @lixiesbrowniess, @liluvtojineteyam, @tinkerbelle05, @olivikiya, @neteyamyawne, @ratchetprime211, @cloudyl9, @mooniequeen, @kentfisherswifee6, @draiochtwrites, @ami-s-k.

#ಣ : sylaphone #rotxo x reader #rotxo x y/n #rotxo fanfiction #rotxo x you #rotxo fluff #rotxo drabble #atwow x reader #atwow x y/n #atwow x you #atwow fanfiction #atwow fluff #atwow modern au #avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water fanfiction #avatar the way of water x reader #atwow drabble

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angelshimaa-archive · 2 years

Note

hello, hello, look who's back.. ME! lol and i'm guessing i came on tumblr the right time,, so ofc i am joining your mini event!!

congratulations on finishing you exams! with that, you deserve ice cream and a tight hug from me ;)

enough blabbering i missed okay?

for the event!!

• shoto

• ❛ am i supposed to just let you go? ❜ (idk the number bc it's not numbered and i can't count jk im just lazy)

thank you love i hope you spend your free time resting and doing what you love. you deserve it ♡

selection :: list 5 ;; prompt 9

warnings :: angst, gn!reader

a/n :: hiiiii bestie oml oml i missed you so so much and im soooooo proud of all the work you did oml !! thank you for sending in lovely, please keep well and try to smile every now and again <33 gonna be collecting my ice cream and hug soon <3 thank you to @softiefeli for witnessing the chaos this was, love you pretty <3

˗ˏˋ event ! ´ˎ˗

“am i supposed to just let you go?”

it’s a last resort, the last attempt to rescue the sinking ship you worked so hard to keep afloat. an attempt to keep you on deck, scrambling along with him trying to patch up all damage as quickly as you could.

selfishness rings in the sentence, yet you can’t bring yourself to unleash the anger it stirs in you. he has to know what he’s asking of— shoto was anything but stupid.

he’s aware of the selfishness— he’s aware of the unfairness of his question.

he can’t say you were happy.

it was a thought that had bullied its way into his thoughts from the back of his head, making itself known every time he wished against it. nothing, not even your attempts at showing him otherwise silenced it.

shoto wasn’t an idiot— he saw the way you loved him. he saw every warm smile, he felt every lingering touch; he heard every patient word of yours, easing him gently into your love and letting him thaw without overwhelming him.

yet, he couldn’t convince himself you wanted to love him.

it shook him too much. were you actually happy, holding his hand through it all? were you actually happy, teaching him how to love? were you actually happy, giving your all to him in hopes of him returning it?

did you want to spend your time like that? pouring all your water into a bucket full of holes, trying your hardest to cover them all?

it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, the reminder of how you did all you could, yet he doubted it all at every turn. how you did all you could, but he couldn’t give you a glimmer of it back.

it’s sad, the situation he finds himself in— the situation he’s at fault for, he knows. yet, for some reason it can’t outdo the sadness swimming in those tired eyes of yours. it can’t outdo the disappointment that drowns you with it.

“you never gave me anything to hold onto.”

the ship that was your relationship can’t be saved, he knows it now. all shoto can do is watch you jump ship when you leave him behind.

as the water creeps up, soaking him into the ending of what was, shoto doesn’t move nor does he cry— he doesn’t have the audacity to after you kept it afloat for so long.

for he can’t say he tried as hard as you did. he can’t say he kept you happy.

reblogs are appreciated !

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ifidiedinadream · 1 year

Text

I posted 1,125 times in 2022

That's 711 more posts than 2021!

574 posts created (51%)

551 posts reblogged (49%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ao3userxnowimnothing

@mondscheinprinzessin

I tagged 838 of my posts in 2022

Only 26% of my posts had no tags

#answered - 348 posts

#my writing - 57 posts

#blind channel fanfic - 57 posts

#blind channel fanfiction - 57 posts

#joel hokka x aleksi kaunisvesi - 21 posts

#rpf - 21 posts

#aleksi kaunisvesi x reader - 11 posts

#joel hokka x reader - 9 posts

#joeleksi - 7 posts

#blind channel imagines - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 94 characters

#aaaaaaaaaaaahh my heart 😭😭😭😭💕💕💕💕💕🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻

My Top Posts in 2022:

what's the point in writing olli if you're not writing him as the himboest himbo to ever himbo

31 notes - Posted September 6, 2022

Can I request a reader insert with Allu where the reader has low self esteem and little to no sexual/romantic experience, and Allu tries to make them comfortable and feel good?

my pisces venus was more than happy to be given this request!! im not sure if it's what you wanted (i guess i went a bit heavy on the realism - i don't know about y'all but i think first times are kinda... Not It) but enjoy!

It's all so new for you.

It barely feels real. All this time, you thought romance just wasn't for you: all your friends had started dating years ago, but for you, the moment never seemed to come. You'd wait patiently, telling yourself you'll experience the same thing some day, but in the back of your mind there was always this shadow of a thought that said you weren't good enough for it. It was hard not to indulge it, especially when your friends told you about their latest dates, the things they'd do with their partners, how well they treated them. There was a hint of jealousy on your part, mixed with a painful inability to relate, that made you cry at night until one day you became numb to it. At some point, you accepted romance just wasn't something that happened to you. That was okay, you told yourself; there were many other things you could live for in your life, you could be happy regardless, but your heart still clenched whenever you thought about it for too long. So you tried not to.

Until Aleksi came along.

A handsome young man, with eyes bluer than the ocean and the sweetest smile you've ever seen. He's just taken you out on a date (the ninth; you've been counting) and you can't stop thinking about how he grabbed your hand on the table at the nice restaurant, the tenderness his gaze held when he looked at you, the way he smiled when you felt yourself blush. You can't help but sigh happily.

"What are you thinking about?" Aleksi asks, smile audible in his voice. You're sitting in his car, ready to go home for the night, though you wish you could stay together for longer. His passenger seat has become your favorite place to sit - it means he's by your side.

"You," you say. He takes your hand and strokes the back of it with his thumb. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the simple touch.

He leans in and kisses your cheek and that's when you open your eyes. You giggle as he gives you more kisses, covering your face in them, until you grab the side of his face to guide his lips to your own. The kiss is slow, languid, making you sigh in his mouth.

He was your first kiss. And he's still making you feel that same way now, after many, many kisses; the butterflies in your stomach, the jolt of electricity shooting down between your legs, making your toes curl.

"Aleksi," you breathe out, pulling back. His eyes are heavy-lidded as he looks back at you, his chest warm under your hand through his shirt. "I want you. I really do."

Your heart picks up as you utter the words. You never went this far but you just can't wait anymore. After two months, you feel ready.

His expression changes to that of concern. "What do you mean?"

"I want you, as in… I wanna go home with you. Spend the night together."

He pulls back further, his gaze serious. "Are you sure? We don't have to. There's no hurry."

"I know," you say and it's your turn grabbing his hand this time. "But I really want it... Aleksi, you have no idea just how much."

You feel him tense up at your words, like you turned on a switch. He smiles then.

"I want you too, baby," he says in a low voice, the pet name making you melt.

"Let's go, then."

***

You're at your apartment. Aleksi insisted a familiar place would make you feel more at ease - you'd argue that his place would've been fine as well, just as familiar, but you appreciate the thoughtfulness.

With your heart beating in your ears, you reach the living room. Here, you're ready to pull him in for a searing kiss and take him out of his clothes but he stops you with an amused snort, hands gently grabbing at your arms.

"Patience, baby," he says. "Let's go to bed. It's more comfortable."

You sigh, defeated, and he just laughs. You take his hand then and lead him to your bedroom.

You stop in your tracks once you're there, the gravity of the situation hitting at once. Aleksi passes by you and sits down on your bed carefully, glancing at you with serious eyes. Suddenly, all your impatience is gone, replaced by nervousness and anxiety.

"It's okay if you're not ready yet," Aleksi says with a reassuring smile.

"It's not that," you say. "There's no one I'd rather have my first time with. But…"

Aleksi's eyebrows raise, silently urging you to speak your mind. You wish you could tell him how much his patience and gentleness are appreciated - you don't feel pressured, you don't feel like you owe it to him, and it makes you feel like you're completely safe. Still…

"I don't know how to do this. What if it hurts and I tell you to stop? That'd be so disappointing for you. What if I can't make you feel good? What if I do something you don't like? What if you - once you see me - what if you decide I'm not attractive…"

"Hey," Aleksi says, voice low. He stood up and walked over to you and now he's cupping your face in his hands. "Stop thinking about me. Don't make it about me. Tonight's about you."

See the full post

32 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

could i request something fluffy with tommi/aleksi? the picture of aleksi on tommi's lap has been living in my head rent free for the past few days, they're so cute

of course 😌😌 it's not inspired by that picture but it's still soft and fluffy 🥰🥰

When Tommi wakes up there's only subtle light coming through the window and shining through the blinds. It must be early. Aleksi next to him is still asleep, wrapped in the sheets up to his chin to shield himself from the crisp night air now that it's fall. Tommi can barely make out his features in the soft light: he's relaxed, breathing quietly through parted lips, his gentle face and soft edges almost, almost making him look naive and innocent.

(He's everything but. Tommi knows oh so well.)

If he still had had long hair, Tommi would've brushed it off his face. Sadly, he has no excuse to touch his visage now, so he just sighs and gets up.

Seeing Aleksi so beautiful and peaceful made Tommi soft, and it's their day off anyway, so Tommi decides to indulge his feelings. He's not a man of many words, much less a man of grand gestures; for him it's in the little things, in the meaningful moments. Tommi doesn't miss the way Aleksi smiles and blushes when he brings him coffee when he's been in their home studio for hours. Nor does he miss how his face lights up when Tommi lets him play his precious drum kit in said studio to his heart's content. Sometimes Aleksi even asks him to teach him some cool tricks with the drums, and Tommi is sure Aleksi already knows everything he tries to show him, but the way he smiles happily when Tommi tells him he did a good job afterwards… it just never fails to swell his heart.

Through the kitchen window, the trees are starting to lose their leaves, the landscape mostly brown against a pastel purple sky. It's silent except for maybe some wind. Tommi feels particularly alive.

He enjoys the moment for a few seconds then gets to work. Pancakes. That's what he wanted to make. He vaguely remembers the recipe and the procedure but hasn't made them in a hot minute, and his phone is in the bedroom (no way he'll go back there and risk waking Aleksi up), so all he can do is hope for the best.

The first one he makes is rather fucked up. Shapeless and slightly burnt. He lets out an annoyed grunt, stern eyes fixed on the offending sorry excuse of a pancake. When he takes a bite, he ascertains he didn't mess up the ingredients at least, which is great news. He keeps on going. The second pancake isn't much better looking than the first, but at least it's the yellow-light brown color a pancake is supposed to be. Progress.

He loves Aleksi, he really does. Because otherwise why would he be preparing breakfast for him at the break of dawn, reminding himself about just how clueless he is in the kitchen, losing his mind over one of the easiest things to bake, uttering fuck every once in a while out of frustration?

After a few more tries, the pancakes actually start to look decent (though they're still all different sizes. Alas, Tommi is sure this is the best he can do). He starts piling them up on a plate, finally at peace again, the sky outside now baby blue.

He feels two arms around his sides and two hands snaking from behind until they're resting on his stomach. Aleksi's body, so small yet so warm, is pressed against his back and Tommi's eyelashes flutter closed. He opens his eyes again, back to his senses, when the dough starts making weird sizzling noises in the pan. Tommi is quick to tend to it again.

"This smells delicious," Aleksi says, voice still rough with sleep. He holds on to Tommi's middle for a moment longer, leaving a kiss between his shoulder blades when he pulls away. "Can I help?"

"Lay the table, please?"

Tommi doesn't turn around, too focused on the pancakes (but he's mostly done!). Still, he can hear Aleksi moving around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and drawers, and thinks it's what makes this house his home.

35 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

oh if you're taking prompts 👀👀 can i have joel/aleksi and "never been kissed" 🙏🏻💕

hey dear! of course you can 🥰😌

"Joel - Joel… wait," Aleksi says. Joel had sprinted towards the pond in the park they just reached, letting out words of awe. The day is coming to its end and the soft red evening is reflecting in the still body of water, no ripples altering the picture - a perfect mirror.

Joel stops in his tracks when he hears Aleksi's call, phone already in hand to take photos of the lovely sight. When Aleksi doesn't move Joel walks back to him with a smile.

"What's wrong?" Joel asks, fingertips moving to Aleksi's cheek tentatively as they've never done it before. Aleksi feels his hairs stand on end.

"There's something I still haven't told you," he says quietly. Joel is now caressing the side of his face with a thumb. Aleksi leans into the touch and it's as if his cheek was always made for Joel's hand.

The date had started off with a coffee by the harbor in the early afternoon. The coffee shop was playing a low fi beat that got stuck in Aleksi's head for the rest of the day and the coffee was a bit too bitter for his taste but Joel had been wonderful. He loved how he took his hand when they walked out and how attentively he was listening to everything Aleksi had to say, even when he himself thought he was being boring by disclosing insignificant personal details (such as what his favorite aftershave was and how his grandma used to make pulla with extra sugar just for him when he was a child).

Walking aimlessly, they ended up in the park. There were plenty of people at first and Aleksi briefly thought how Rilla would've had fun here with them, socializing with other dogs and running around while Joel and Aleksi walked side by side, holding hands. Aleksi could imagine them walking Rilla together as an established couple and it would feel like a Sunday family trip.

Now they're alone and the park is mostly silent. And there is something Joel has to know before their first date ends.

"I've never been kissed," Aleksi confesses and Joel's eyes go wide for a second. His gaze settles on his lips, as if it's all he can think about now that Aleksi mentioned it.

"Can't believe you," Joel says. "You're too kissable for anyone to resist."

Aleksi smiles bashfully, feeling himself blush. Joel's eyes move up to his own just for a split second where it's too heavy for Aleksi and then settle on his lips once again.

"May I have the honor to be the first?"

Aleksi's heart flutters at that, the joy of the first date being perfect now only intensified. Joel must've seen him glow because he smiles brightly, his left hand now joining the other on Aleksi's face, on the other side.

"You may."

36 notes - Posted July 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

my desire to write an aleksi reader insert request vs my inability to process how sweet the guy is and how soft his hugs feel

i wanna write him dom-leaning as i always do but he was so gentle with me irl that my brain struggles to perceive him as both now 😭 no that they're contradictory traits at all i just 😭😭😭😭 SOFT ALLU 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

38 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false #AGAIN I'M A FUCKING CLOWN

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truthofself · 2 years

Text

Title: wanna go out sometime? Pairing(s): hyungwon & changkun (monsta x) Word Count: 1,167 Warning(s): n/a Original Date: 2018

Likes & Reblogs Appreciated <;3 my ko-fi link

wѳuʆɗ yѳu wɑɳt tѳ gѳ ѳut รѳɱɛtiɱɛ?

uɦɱ, yɛɑɦ i wѳuʆɗɳ't รɛɛ wɦy ɳѳt.

Changkyun wasn’t normally Secretive. He was normally open about himself and feelings towards his friends. Expect this one time. This one time he didn’t speak a word of his feelings for Chae Hyungwon, the senior at his high school. Which wasn’t surprising, because it was normal for people to fall for that boy. It was normal to see someone saying they like him. But it was always the same, Chae Hyungwon turned everyone down with a small apologetic smile before leaving them alone. Maybe that's why Changkyun never spoke a word of his adoration for the older. Because rejection was just a scary thought to someone who was so young, and so in love with someone he saw out of his League. It pained the younger to even think about being rejected.

What is Chae Hyungwon wasn’t even attracted to males? What if he didn’t even know he existed. Those thoughts always worked their way into Changkyuns brain every time he saw the older or even thought of him. Which was a lot. Even if Changkyun was a Freshmen, and Hyungwon was a Senior, somehow he saw the older everywhere in the school. It was odd, and uncomforting. And just proved that the universe was having fun making Changkyun suffer, or prove that the universe was trying to get Hyungwon to know Changkyun. But it didn’t do anything. They never spoke, besides one time that they ran into each other during lunch Period. Changkyun lit up a bright red stumbling on his words briefly before apologizing like no tomorrow and scurrying off.

That day wasn’t Changkyuns best. Mostly because that incident tipped off the idea that he liked Hyungwon to his best friend. The teasing that dripped from Jooheons lips every time Changkyun was in the vicinity of Hyungwon was enough to make Changkyuns face go bright red and cause him to punch Jooheon in the arm, begging for him to stop making noise. Which Changkyun was a bit happy he didn’t shut up, because it drew Hyungwon closer, even prompted him to speak to them. Which made Changkyuns heart stop. This wasn’t happening.

“Uhm, Hey” Was all that was spoken from Hyungwon, he shifted his weight from foot to foot as his left hand found it's way to the back of his neck.

Changkyun was praying he didn’t actually hear anything Jooheon had said. Changkyun didn’t even speak, but Jooheon did. “Hey, aren’t you Hyungwon? The like, chick magnet?”

Hyungwon dipped his head slightly a soft chuckle leaving him, before he nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess I am a quote chick magnet, as you put it. Even if I’m not even into them”

Changkyun lit up, glancing at Jooheon before starting slightly astonished at Hyungwon. Not even into them? He didn’t even think before he spoke. “Like not into them in a gay way?” Changkyun covered his mouth. “Sorry, I um--”

Hyungwon just laughed again, now he seemed even more uncomfortable. “I guess you could say in a gay way. Yeah, I’m more attracted to guys.”

Changkyun almost screamed before he bowed his head, and excused himself. In which he quickly walked off and hid away in the bathroom.

Hyungwon just glanced at Jooheon, confusion etched into his face. “Is ehm, Is he alright?”

Jooheon just shrugged. “Most likely sitting in the bathroom freaking out because his crush spoke-” Jooheon cut himself off. “You didn’t hear that from me. Hell you didn’t even hear that” He spoke giving off a grin before excusing himself.

Hyungwon stood speechless. Unsure how to process the events that just occured or the information he just learned. He hardly knew Im Changkyun. Often seeing each other in the halls, he always thought he was cute. Changkyun even further proved to be cute when they had bumped into each other. He wouldn’t say he was exactly romantically into Changkyun, he had a fondness for him though.

Maybe the fondness is what drove him to follow suit into the restroom.

“I wanted to ask you something.” Hyungwon spoke when he saw Changkyun standing net to the skin.

“W-what?”

“Do you, wanna do out sometime?”

“Like a date??”

Hyungwon laughed and shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be date, maybe even just as friends? And then maybe once we’re friends you’ll let me take you out on a date?”

Changkyuns face wasn’t even back to it's normal shade yet, so those sentences made the red flare again, as he stumbled to find a proper reply and whilst attempting to gain his composure again. Once he finally had he spoke. “S-sure, I don’t see w-why not”

✧✦✧

Changkyun was at the Arcade first. They agreed to meet there the few days prior to hangout which did feel way more like a date than intended. But Changkyun stood outside the building on his phone, texting Jooheon a play by play of him waiting. It wasn’t eventful and Jooheon was just amused by the anxiety that was setting in through the text messages.

“Hey, Sorry for being late.”

Changkyun looked up, seeing the older male.

Goddamn, he was beautiful.

Changkyun just nodded. “It’s alright I haven’t been waiting long.” Sadly that was a lie, Changkyun arrived almost 30 minutes early and Hyungwon was another 15 minutes late. Jooheon dealt with 45 minutes of panicked texting and play by play of how the wind was or the weather and whatever else was happening in the area.

Both boys didn’t speak a word further after greeting. They silently walked into the building. Aimlessly walking about, looking about all the games that they were able to play. Hyungwon eyes were caught by the Classic DDR machine, and he dragged and begged Changkyun to play it with him. Even if Changkyun wasn’t much for dancing he agreed. He tried his best, but Hyungwon seemed to be an expert at this game. He moved so fluidly and swiftly to hit every note. Which had Changkyun watching in awe while also trying to play the game himself.

It was eventful. After Changkyun accepted his lose, they moved on to another game. Some Survival 4D horror game, which Changkyun survived longer in. Which earned him the right to tease Hyungwon about being frightened and how poor his aim with a gun was. Even after that they played a few more games before leaving to go buy something for dinner and than just aimlessly walking about the streets.

“Changkyun-ssi” Hyungwon spoke as they stopped in a park, even if the sun was long gone they peacefully enjoyed their time together.

Changkyun just hummed in reply.

“You wanna go out on another date sometime?”

Changkyun almost choked on his food. “T-this wasn’t a date I thought”

The older just snickered. “That was a lie so you’d actually come out with me”

The younger was astonished, this was so well planned. “I-I Don’t see why not”

Hyungwon smiled, “Nice, nice. Thank you Changkyun-ssi”

#monsta x #im changkyun #chae hyungwon #im #hyungwon #hyungkyun #changkyun #monsta x im #monsta x hyungwon #fanfic #one shot #this is so old #from 2018 #lmao #fanfiction #kpop fanfic #oneshot fanfic #im so tired of writing tags

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 3 years

Text

in which harry joins a new gym and you’re a trainer there.

a/n: happy new years loves! wishing you all a lovely and happy 2021! first fic of 2021 and im so excited to write more stories this year! to start the new year, here is boxer!harry for you, and this is for my very own timetravelathon fic challenge! if you’d like to join, please let me know, I’d love to have you on board! this story takes place in the 1990, and i know some of the songs mentioned weren’t released specifically in 1990 (just a few years after), but just pretend it was lol because they’re too good to not mention in this story hehe, but happy reading and pls reblog and leave feedback <3

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, love you always!

WORD COUNT: 22.6k of (kinda) boxer!harry x trainer!yn filled with angst and smut

WARNINGS: mentions of abandonment and blood

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘143’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

16 August 1990

With every move he made, Harry felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his face, down his back, and trailing down his chest. Small huffs of breath were released from his mouth, trying not to make it known that he was exhausted, but he continued until all of his energy was used up through the very end.

“C’mon,” he muttered to himself, anticipating the certain words to be yelled out.

He’d been going at it for a while now, muscles aching as he felt like he was about to collapse any minute. But he was determined to finish, to feel the satisfaction running through his veins, knowing that this was his best round.

“And time!” His trainer yelled at him, clicking the stop button on his timer.

Harry got in one last punch before putting his arms down, the soreness made his limbs feel like jello as he shook them out. The black leather punching bag was swinging back and forth, the chain that held up the speed bag rattled and slid against the metal bar. Harry loved that sound because it indicated that he was going his hardest to where the chain couldn’t keep up.

“Nice one, kid.” Henson, his trainer said as he fist-bumped Harry’s red glove.

Harry simply nodded in appreciation, too exhausted to speak as he placed his gloves onto his knees, leaning down as beads of sweat dripped down onto the matted floor. Several harsh breaths came out of his mouth as he sniffed in the fresh oxygen that was mixed with the musky scent of the gym.

Benny, Harry’s best friend, exited the ring, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his arm before walking towards Harry, who was still leaning on his knees. Benny tapped Harry’s glove, making him stand up straighter, and Harry patted Benny’s back.

“Good job out there, mate,” Harry told his best friend. Benny was in the ring with one of the other trainers, Mike, doing one of the nonstop routines. Harry liked training with Mike in the ring, but not when it was for cardio and timed rounds; he liked when it was chill, so he knew how hard he had to hit the target, which were the pads. But for the timed rounds they did, Harry was usually by the speed bags and Mike was in the ring.

“You too, man,” Benny breathed out with a smile.

They headed over to the bench to take their gloves off and catch a breather. The pair would do a cardio day every Thursday to get a good, sweaty workout in, and it always left them exhausted, but definitely much stronger.

“Hey, I’m not gonna be able to workout next Thursday,” Benny mentioned. Harry furrowed his brows as he put the end of the strap between his teeth to pull it off from the velcro, taking one glove off.

“What? Why not?” Harry asked confusingly. They never really had to call off a workout, especially Thursdays, unless one of them was sick, but other than that, neither of them missed any workout days.

“I’m taking the wife on a date,” Benny smirked, clearly very excited to spend some time with his wife, but Harry wasn’t amused.

“On a Thursday? Why can’t you do that on Friday?”

Benny rolled his eyes. “Because we both called off Friday, so we’re having a four day weekend to ourselves,” he explained.

Harry huffed, clearly not entertained. “Guess so…”

Benny knew Harry was always like this, ever since they were younger. The two had been so close ever since they met, now that Benny had a wife, Harry always felt like the third wheel and that he rarely saw Benny, however, that wasn’t entirely true Benny exercised with Harry every night during the weekdays, and sometimes they even grabbed a bite to eat afterward when Benny could use that time to be with his wife, Marianne.

Harry had an overwhelming fear of abandonment, it led him to have anxieties about how Benny could just get up and walk out of his life, even though he wouldn’t. Maybe it was why Harry is so attached to him; he’s the closest to Harry and it would completely destroy him if Benny ever decided that he didn’t want to be his friend anymore. That fear only grew based on an unfortunate turn of events that happened in college, four years ago, and it left Harry to pieces. Benny had never seen Harry so broken where he literally had to pick him up and take care of him. He never wanted to see his best friend like that ever again because it absolutely crushed him.

“It’s two days that we’re not going to be seeing each other, chill out. Didn’t know you were that in love with me,” Benny joked, hoping to lighten up Harry’s mood. Luckily, it worked because Harry breathed out a chuckle, throwing his towel at Benny’s face.

The two collected their belongings and walked over to the trainers as they always do at the end of every workout to have a light chat with them. Henson and Mike told them they did a great job and asked to confirm if they were still on for tomorrow, which Benny and Harry both agreed to. Benny also mentioned about not being able to work out next Thursday and Friday, including the reason why he wasn’t able to.

Henson and Mike looked at each other as if they were keeping something from the two. Harry titled his head and looked at Benny as if he was asking if he knew the reason why they were looking at each other weirdly, but Benny just shrugged his shoulders, just as clueless as Harry.

“Are you gonna tell us why you’re acting suspiciously?” Harry asked. The two trainers both sighed defeatedly.

“About that…” Henson started. “Next Friday…we’re closing,” he added.

“Like, closing for the day?” Benny asked innocently, hoping they didn’t mean what he really thought.

“No…for good,” Mike stated. Harry and Benny’s eyes both widened, words coming out of both of their mouths profusely. They were both talking over each other, disagreeing and not accepting the fact that the gym was shutting down.

“You can’t just do that-”

“-No, we refuse to let you close down-”

“Alright, guys! Settle down. You’re starting to act like kids, for god's sake,” Henson interrupted the tantrum that was about to start.

“You guys can’t just do that!” Benny exclaimed.

“Why are you guys even doing that?” Harry asked.

Mike sighed. “We mutually decided that it was best to close down because…we really need the money. My rent has been skyrocketing crazy high because more people have just decided that moving to Los Angeles is fun.” He rolled his eyes, and Harry slightly chuckled because it was true. Hollywood was the place to be and people from out of state had just figured out their new profound dream to move to one of the busiest cities.

“Fight Night will never be forgotten, alright? We’re just ready to let this place go. Plus, the roof is leaking and the wall is tearing apart, and that’s gonna be a pain to fix,” Henson added.

Mike and Henson were brothers and built Fight Night when they were in college. With the help of their father, they decided to build a place to gain strength and power, all while helping others defend themselves. Harry and Benny had been frequenting it ever since college, and it felt like home to them. Aside from the yelling and stuffy scent, it was a place for them to release any type of anger or stress.

Benny introduced Fight Night to Harry when he had physically picked Harry up from the ground on, what possibly was, the worst night of his life. It was something Harry looked forward to after classes, anxiously bouncing his leg up and down, waiting to get to the gym. Fight Night helped rebuild him, and now, he was in disbelief that the gym was closing.

“We’re old as fuck now. We wanna live our lives freely. Time to retire now, don’t you think?” Mike said with a sad chuckle. They were both in their late fifties, so Harry and Benny understood why they wanted to be free of work.

The four of them hugged it out, a very emotional and sentimental hug that was heartwarming but sad. Eyes were slightly watered before Henson pushed them and said, “We’re closing the gym next week, not fucking dying! We have time for this bullshit for an entire week.”

Harry and Benny left the gym with bittersweet hearts, but they kept Fight Night close to them, knowing that they owed a lot to the gym and the two men who built the facility. Mike had recommended some gyms that were close by if they were still interested in boxing, which they definitely were, so they were planning to check them out first before signing up.

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” Harry asked once they were outside of the gym. The air was humid, nothing different from inside the gym since it was summer and the sun was beginning to go down.

“Nah, I’m good. Gonna get home to Marianne. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Benny pat Harry’s back, nodding.

Harry waved. “See you.” He watched Benny walk away before getting into his silver 1990 BMW 5 series, sighing. He always hated going home, and he always tried staying out for as long as he possibly could.

As he drove home, he anxiously tapped his hands on the steering wheel as he couldn’t quite keep them still. It’d been happening for a while, a lot more often than he’d like, but he couldn’t help it.

Walking into the darkness and emptiness of his home, he sighed sadly as he sulked all the way to the restroom to shower. The hot steam relieved his achy and sore muscles, but he was hoping for this shower to also release any occurring and bad thoughts he had in his head.

He couldn’t help but think about the gym closing down. After going there for years, he couldn’t imagine going to a new gym; he’d adapted and adjusted to Fight Night that it would take him forever to find a gym that truly made him feel wanted. He was scared, to say the least.

Harry was never a big fan of change. He liked being comfortable and stable and didn't like to move around a lot. So, the thought of going to a different gym that wasn’t Fight Night, terrified him. It only added to the list of things that had abandoned him.

Once he was out of the shower, white towel secured lowly on his hips, showcasing his beautiful toned torso that was filled and inked with tattoos, his pager beeped. He wondered who it was as he walked over to his nightstand, considering that it was nearing nine in the evening.

He deeply sighed when he saw the pager read ‘345987,’ immediately knowing who it was. The pager code meaning ‘I’m horny’ could only mean it’s coming from Lizette.

Deciding not to answer the page, Harry set his pager down before walking back to the restroom, only for his home phone to ring, causing him to stop in his steps and answer the phone.

“Hello?” Harry answered.

“Hey, baby,” Lizette said seductively. His brows furrowed, holding the towel to his waist as it had loosened up a bit.

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want…” He knew exactly what she wanted. If she hadn’t paged him, he would still know what she wanted from him since all he provided to her was sex. “Isn’t it such a coincidence that I’m outside of your door right now?” Harry didn’t say anything but pinch the bridge of his nose before hanging up.

He walked towards his front door, sighing before opening the door that revealed Lizette on the other side, wearing a low cut top, cleavage clearly showing, and high waisted denim shorts. She leaned on the doorframe, smirking as she looked Harry up and down, noticing that he wasn’t wearing anything but a towel. Harry gulped as she stepped forward, placing her hands on his stomach before completely taking the towel off, and a smug smile plastered on her face.

Harry lets her take over like he always did. The feel of someone else’s body holding his, and lips kissing his own and his skin was something he couldn’t compare to anything else. Harry simply only did this to have some companionship, and Lizette made him feel a lot less lonely even if she was only there to have sex with him. He enjoys it twenty-five percent of the time—the other seventy-five percent was him actually wallowing in wanting someone to love him for him.

After they were done, Harry immediately covered himself with the blanket as Lizette got out of the bed to change back into her clothes. Even though they had sex multiple times and she’s seen him naked, there was something about the vulnerability after the sex that he didn’t want her to see because she didn’t quite deserve that if he was being honest.

“I had fun. Call you next time,” Lizette bid him goodbye before smacking a big kiss to his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain on his skin. She walked herself out, and once Harry heard the slam of the front door closing, he cringed slightly, wiping the lipstick off.

He turned onto his side, deeply exhaling. He didn’t feel anything but numbness—it was always like this. He used sex to cope with how he felt, but it only made it worse. Honestly, he didn’t know what else to do, so it was the only thing he turned to, other than boxing.

Harry fell asleep in his lonely room by himself. His heart was empty and felt like an isolated building that only carried his sadness.

The entire week had gone by in a flash — Fight Night was officially closed down for good.

Harry and Benny helped clean the space out as they reminisced and talked about the memories that were made in that gym. A lot of the stories had to do with girls walking by the gym, glancing through the window to see men working out, and then promptly walking into the gym to try and hit on the guys.

Harry had tried convincing Henson that he could run the gym, but he shot down the idea before Harry could convince him.

“Kid, look. If you want to run your own gym, do it. I want you to own a gym under your name. Not mine or Mike’s. You deserve to have something of your own, and whatever that may be, work for it. Work hard for it. I know you got it in you because you’re a hard worker, determined. You need to see that for yourself.”

A conversation that was supposed to convince Henson to let Harry run the gym turned into a sentimental series of words that Harry really needed to hear. Harry didn’t say anything else and nodded as he took in Henson’s words to his heart. Henson was someone Harry looked up to. He was an old man with wise words, and everything he said was either meaningful or mean, in a way to show tough love. So, his words were something Harry lived by.

The following Monday after Fight Night closed, Benny and Harry were on the search for their new gym. They didn’t plan on quitting the gym after their favorite one had closed down, and Henson and Mike made them swear they wouldn’t stop working out.

Now, the two were walking into a gym that was up the same amount of time Fight Night was. ‘Don’s Box’ was what the gym was called. The building was newly reconstructed, making the place seem more modern and a little less dingy. The space was quite big, able to fit two rings, six punching bags spread throughout, eight-speed bags, and a weight rack. The walls were painted black, but the amount of natural light from the window was plentiful enough to make the gym feel bigger and brighter.

A decent amount of people were at the gym, sectioned off with a few kids from eight to twelve on one side, and the rest of the adults on the other. There was a good mix between women and men, and everyone hyped everyone up with motivating words and claps over the music that was playing through two speakers that were hung in the corner.

“Can I help you?” An older man with gray hair had asked the two. He looked quite intimidating; wearing nylon sweatpants and a black long-sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, showing his gold watch. The look he had on his face was stern as he crossed his arms, waiting for an answer.

“Uh, yeah. We’re interested in joining your gym,” Benny told the man. The man looked the two up and down and scoffed.

“Sure you guys are ready for that?”

“We’ve been boxing for years, so yeah, we are.” Harry chimed in, a slightly defensive tone added to his words.

The man glared at Harry, stepping towards him. Harry was slightly taller than him, but he knew the man could definitely take him at any given moment, but Harry wasn’t looking to fight the man, honestly. He wanted to act and look tough in front of him, so the guy wouldn’t give him any crap for it later down the road during his workouts.

“Alright, alright. Take it easy, pa.” You interrupted, placing a hand on the man’s shoulders, making him turn his head. You raised your brows at him before tilting your head a bit, telling him to step back. The man backed off, giving Harry a snarly glance before huffing.

“I’m just messing. Gotta know how tough my athletes are to be here,” he spoke in a lighter tone than he was to the man in front of him, putting his arm around you.

“Thought you were gonna ‘stay on the sidelines’ and let me handle it?” You quoted your father’s words back to him, and he chuckled, putting his hands up, surrendering as he knew he couldn’t win against you.

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you handle it.” Don, your father, quickly looked at Harry up and down, and you rolled your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t do anything to potential customers. He walked away and you breathed out a chuckle, scratching your head.

“Sorry about that. You two are interested in joining?” You asked the two men in front of you. They were rather…attractive, you noticed. The one on the left was gorgeous with beautiful brown skin that looked so smooth. He was wearing a pair of red short-shorts and a white muscle tee. You noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring, so you averted your eyes off of him. The man next to him, however, was absolutely stunning. His left arm carried a sleeve-full of tattoos, and you wanted so badly to examine and look at every single one. With chocolate brown curls, his green eyes had a tad bit of a glimmer to them, not too much though, because if you were being honest, they were a bit dull, like he was exhausted and needed to let off some of the stress that he held based on how tense he looked.

You tried not to observe and think about it too much as your ability to read individuals thrived while meeting new people. You shook it off the thought, not wanting to assume things about their lives and seem too creepy in front of new and potential members.

“Yeah, we are. I’m Benny, by the way.” He shook your hand, smiling.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. I run this place.” You offered the same smile back. Your eyes looked over at his friend, and he gave you a soft smile. “Y/N,” you repeated, taking your hand out for him to shake.

“I’m Harry. Harry Styles,” he introduced fully. A beautiful name for a beautiful man, you thought. He shook your hand as you felt the softness of his skin mixed with a tad bit of roughness from the callouses, probably from heavy-lifting.

Something about Harry introducing his full name had made you a bit weak in the knees. His deep and accented voice had made you a bit flustered as chills ran up your body. You’re acting like a fool, your subconscious told you. You were never one to show your obvious attraction for men, you were more into watching them from the side. But once Harry walked in, it seemed like you didn’t know how to keep your chill.

“Perfect. Nice to meet you both. Signing up shouldn’t be too long—don’t want to keep you two from working out.” You led the two men to one of the offices, knocking on the wooden door to greet Jamie. “Hi. These two are looking to sign up. Do you mind helping them out?”

“Of course! Come on in, guys,” Jamie greeted them, offering them to take a seat along with some water, which they both said yes to.

“I have to get back to my session, but you both are in great hands. Jamie is one of our best,” you told the two. You sent an innocent wink at Jamie, which he sent one back while Harry watched the entire interaction, feeling uneasy.

It was quite obvious how attractive and pretty you were. The moment he first saw you, his breath had immediately hitched in his throat. You had the most gorgeous face he’d ever seen, and when you spoke, your voice was soft and gentle, making Harry a bit more safe in a place he’s new to.

Jamie had gotten their details and credit card information down before asking them if they needed a tour of the place. They both had said no, seeing as things were pretty self-explanatory and they’d been to a boxing gym before.

They headed out of Jamie’s office and to the main floor, walking over to the heavy bags since the section was less crowded to start stretching. Harry rolled his shoulders and neck around, swinging his arms forwards and backward as he looked around the gym.

This was something he had to get used to—being in a new place, surrounded by new people. At Fight Night, he was around the same people for four years, and he was comfortable — he was fine with it. But now, he had to go through the same process all over again. Nerves and anxiety crept up his skin as he tried to jump around lightly, warming up a bit but also trying to shake off the unwanted feelings.

“Hey, you okay?” Benny asked concerningly as he stretched.

Harry’s brows raised, covering up his anxiousness. “Hmm, yeah, I am. Y’know, just a, uh, new place, that’s all,” he brushed him off.

“Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready to go, just tell me,” Benny told him before going into his bag to grab the wrapping tape.

Harry nodded, smiling in appreciation. Benny had always been a great friend to him, and Harry was a great friend to Benny as well. They always took each other’s feelings and concerns into consideration—always making sure the other is okay. They both really appreciated it because some friends weren’t lucky enough to talk about their feelings and be that vulnerable with one another. They trusted each other; they were like brothers.

Harry grabbed his jump rope, deciding to do a little five-minute warm-up to get his heart rate going. He faced the boxing ring to the left of him, noticing that you were in the ring, so he decided to casually watch you box. He then noticed that you had boxing pads on instead of gloves, and the people you were training were the kids that he had seen earlier.

He watched you instruct the excited kids who were prancing around with their boxing gloves on, in every color imagined. You helped them fix their form, their stance, and their punch; telling them that they had to be quick with their hit to bring their glove back to the side of their face quickly, so their opponent doesn’t have a chance to take a hit. The kids demonstrated for you, punching your right hand that was covered with the pad. You praised all of them, of course, correcting a few things, but overall, everyone was a natural fighter.

Harry’s heart rate definitely started to pick up, and he didn’t know if it was how fast he was jumping rope or because of the flutter he felt as he watched you interact with the kids. He truly never felt this kind of feeling where his heart picked up from the simple act of looking at someone.

You had definitely noticed Harry staring at you from your peripheral view, and you had thought it was a simple glance, but he never looked away. So, you took the opportunity to take a quick look at him while the kids were practicing.

Your eyes met him and you sent him a small smile, along with a wave with your boxing pads. Harry’s eyes widened, realizing that you were waving at him, and what happened next had embarrassed him even more. With how fast he was jumping, he suddenly got tangled with the rope, causing him to trip against it. Luckily, he caught his fall, but he was already embarrassed enough.

Harry’s heart completely dropped, cheeks flushed. He couldn’t believe he had made a complete fool of himself, especially at his new gym. He so badly wanted to tell Benny that he was ready to leave, but when he looked over at his friend, he had already started his workout, being so focused and in the zone that Harry didn’t want to be a burden.

When he turned back around to see if you were still looking, he jolted back a bit as you were behind him.

“Are you okay?” You asked concerningly.

“Uh, yeah. I…yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” He cleared his throat, trying to cover up the fact that his voice almost cracked. He was so stunned by you. The way you made sure he was okay was possibly the nicest thing someone had done for him as you looked at him with your sweet eyes, and your posture was giving him your full attention. His heart pounded through his chest; the simple action and effort that was being put into this was making him overwhelmed.

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” You told him as you looked at him intently. He simply nodded, knowing that he couldn’t process any more words.

You gave him one last smile before quickly going back to your students. He watched you climb into the ring so effortlessly before continuing your training class.

Harry took a deep breath before walking over to one of the speed bags that was in the corner, hoping to hide away from the embarrassment that he felt. Wrapping his hands up, he anxiously scanned the room, noticing that everyone was doing their own thing. There was a possibility that no one else had seen him almost fall on his face, except you, which he really wished that it was the entire gym who saw him instead, not you. He lazily hit the speed bag, trying to warm up and shake off his mortification. Harry continued hitting the bag, eventually getting into a rhythm as his fists alternated between one another, along with the rhythm of the music of Montrell Jordan’s ‘This Is How We Do It.’

Soon enough, all the worry and stress that was in Harry’s head and body was shaken off and completely forgotten about as he focused on his strong punches, making sure to connect his mind to his muscles, so he could feel his muscles working.

And for the time being, life wasn’t all that bad.

A month had passed since being at Don’s Box, and Harry and Benny quite liked it. They had newer equipment and their music was always on point, playing the best of 90s R&B and Hip-Hop. It was their favorite music to listen to, especially while working out. The people there were nice and cool, never getting in each other’s way and letting everyone do their own thing while still having fun, keeping the space safe and comfortable.

Harry found himself walking into the gym at nine at night, an hour and a half before it closed. Usually, he wouldn’t work out this late, but during the day, he had felt so unmotivated and lazy to even get out of bed. He could put the blame on Lizette because she had gone to his house the night prior, doing the same thing they always do, but he knew she wasn’t the one to blame. Something about saying no to her and having her not talk to him had physically pained him. They were in a specific arrangement, he knew that. But having someone leave him again was something he couldn’t go through.

‘What’s Luv?’ by Fat Joe, Ja Rule, and Ashanti was playing when he set his bag down onto the ground against the wall, next to the heavy bag. He started to stretch as he took a look around; not many people were working out at this time, which he liked.

His eyes continued to search the gym, in hopes he would find you still here. Before the slightest bit of disappointment could settle, he saw you walk out of the hallway with Jamie, smiling and laughing at something he had said. He made a face as a hint of jealousy rushed through as he saw you with Jamie. He knew that there was no point in being jealous because he barely even knew you. But for the past month that he’s been at Don’s Box, you always had this look of excitement on your face when you saw and greeted Harry. It made his stomach flutter every time you would flash him your beautiful smile as you would carry the conversation, asking him about his day and if the music was good, which he commends you for putting his favorite songs on.

Looking away, he decided to just focus on the quick workout he could get in before the gym closed, so he retained his attention back to stretching before bending down to grab the tape from his bag to wrap his hands.

“Uh, hi, Harry,” you smiled as you greeted him. He looked up at you. The way the light was positioned behind your head made you look like an actual angel; you were ethereal.

He stood up and smiled softly. “Hi. How are you?” He asked, trying to contain his nerves from just looking at you. You were gorgeous, as you always are every day. You were wearing a pair of black leggings and a light pink t-shirt that was tied into a knot with the word ‘angel’ that was surrounded by wings printed in the middle. Kind of a coincidence, he thought, thinking back to when he called you an angel in his head.

“Good, good. You’re here later than usual—without Benny too,” you pointed out, but immediately cursed at yourself for making such an odd observation and telling it to his face as if you were keeping track of the times he’s gone into the gym.

“Yeah, I was pretty…tired during the day, so the only time I got a burst of energy was right now. And Benny is with his wife and in-laws tonight, so it’s just me tonight,” he explained with a soft chuckle.

“Well, glad you got the chance to make it in,” you said genuinely. He simply nodded, not knowing what else to say but instead he captured himself into you as you stared at him with your captivating eyes that spoke right through him. What was happening to him? He thought. This hadn’t really happened before, and he was good at letting his walls go up and guarding his precious heart.

“Hey, I’m gonna head out,” Jamie said, greeting you goodbye, and taking Harry out of his thoughts. “Hey, man. Have a good workout.” He shook Harry’s hand, and Harry smiled, nodding.

“See you tomorrow,” you told Jamie, smiling a bit as you waved. Jamie left the gym, and it was just you and Harry, along with a few other people who were wrapping up their workout.

“Are you not gonna go with him?” Harry asked, and you raised your brows in confusion.

“Why would I go with him?” You wondered.

“Oh, I just thought you would leave with him, y’know, your boyfriend…” he trailed off, slyly slipping in the word boyfriend in that sentence.

You giggled, shaking your head. “No, no. Jamie isn't my boyfriend. I’ve known him since I was ten, but nothing’s ever happened between us. Besides, he has a boyfriend of his own.” Harry raised his brows in shock as his shoulders visibly relaxed. “No need to worry, Harry. I’m all yours,” you flirted a bit. You normally wouldn’t flirt so easily with someone, especially if they were a member of your gym, but something about Harry had made you release all the stress you had once you saw and talked to him.

Harry blushed, grinning as his dimple popped out on his cheek. Your eyes lightened once you noticed that feature, making you think that he was ten times cuter than he already is.

“You’ve been in the ring, right?” You asked curiously. Harry nodded, and the corner of your lips turned up. “Great! We have about a little less than an hour and a half, so if you’re looking for some intense cardio, I could do it with you—y’know, train you and guide you, and whatnot,” you suggested.

If Harry’s being honest, he wasn’t planning on doing cardio today—just a few routines to get his muscles warm, but the way you’re looking at him and how you spoke to him so softly and effortlessly, he couldn’t say no.

“Yeah, I’m up for it,” he responded. Your eye brightened, resisting the urge to squeal from excitement, telling him that you were going to get the mitts and to meet you in the ring. He chuckled slightly as you walked over to the equipment room to get the mitts. Harry quickly hit the speed bag to warm up until he saw you walk out of the room.

He put on his gray sweater and a green packers beanie, so he could sweat more before he met you in the ring with his gloves pressed between his arm and the side of his body. You put the mitts in between your legs as Harry handed you one of the gloves. Holding onto the end of it, he put his hand inside as you pushed the glove towards him, so it would sit on his hand tightly before strapping it securely for him before proceeding to the next one. The proximity between you two was quite close as you helped him put on the gloves, and you could smell the faint scent of cologne mixed with the slightest bit of sweat, giving him that unique musk; the one that doesn’t smell horrible at all but lured you in.

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and looked up at Harry. “Good?” He nodded, punching the gloves together to make sure they felt comfortable. “Ready?”

“Let’s do this,” Harry said, skipping in place to warm his body up before getting into his stance. His left leg was a few feet away from his right leg as he bounced around a bit, waiting for you.

You faintly smirked, nodding your head before you put on the mitts. Since Harry was very familiar with the mitt workouts, you figured that you didn’t need to explain what each number represented since mostly all trainers and coaches use the same numbers for the same punch.

“Okay, let’s warm up a bit. Give me one,” you instructed. Harry put his gloves up to protect his face as you held your right mitt up. With his left hand, he punched your mitt, not giving his full strength. “Is that all you got?” You challenged, knowing that he had more power in him.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he said honestly with a small pout, standing straight from his boxing stance. Usually, you would take offense to that statement, barking back a comment saying that just because you were a girl it didn’t mean you couldn’t take a hit, but you didn’t go that far into it, knowing Harry didn’t mean it that way whatsoever.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Harry. I’ve trained so many people—all with different body types and strengths. My hand has felt all different types of power, so hit the mitt like you mean it.” You hit his shoulder, building up his motivation. He nodded, getting back into his stance as did you. “Now, give me one.”

This time, Harry’s glove met your mitt with full potential and force, and you took the hit well—not moving back or being stunned.

“There you go! Keep going,” you told him, and he continued giving you jabs. ‘In Da Club’ by 50 Cent was blaring through the speakers as Harry breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Several huffs of breath came out loudly as he punched, moving and dancing around the ring with you as the two of you occasionally shifted and switched positions.

Harry got in a few more punches before you switched it up, telling him, “1-2.” Harry jabbed with his left hand and crossed jabbed with his right hand, putting his full range of motion into his right punch. He did that combination five times as he started to feel sweat dripping down his back and the sides of his forehead.

You were yelling out words of encouragement and motivation, praising him for his punches, to which he responded back with a better and solid punch to your mitts.

“Nice!” You took a step back to move around the ring to take advantage of the space as Harry jumped and skipped around to wherever you directed him to. “Wanna take a break?” You asked. He shook his head no, determined to finish this workout that he couldn’t even think about wanting to take a break because he really didn’t want to. “Okay, 1-4-3,” you told him. With force, he jabbed, hooked with his left hand, and hooked with his right hand.

This feeling that he had felt—being in the ring with you—was something entirely different than when he was in the ring with Henson or Mike. The stress that he physically carried onto his shoulder had washed away into nothingness, leaving him with a drive that didn’t include overthinking and fear. The fear that had left him worried and depressed, that his life would amount to nothing—that fear disappeared inside him once he threw the first punch. It was exhilarating and fun, and he didn’t know he could have this much fun in the ring. But this was the most pleasure he’s ever felt while boxing.

You ordered him to do some different combinations, such as ‘1-2-3-5,’ which was a jab, cross jab, leading hook, and rear uppercut. You also included moments when he had to duck because you were swinging at him. He definitely had gotten into a rhythm, punching and moving faster. You were the trainer, the person that was supposed to instruct him, but you matched his rhythm and energy and moved quicker with him as well.

You were starting to get a sweat in as well, and that was mostly because of the adrenaline rushing through your blood as you moved excitedly around the ring.

After a while, a timer had gone off, telling you that it was time to close up as Harry’s focus was cut off—the sound making him look up hastily. Throughout the time you were working out with Harry, people were slowly starting to make their way out, but the two of you were too focused on working out that you hadn’t even noticed that it was just the two of you left in the gym.

“Oh, guess we’re closing.” You stood up straighter, wiping the sweat on your forehead with your forearm. “Feelin’ good?” You asked Harry with a proud smile.

“Feelin’ great,” he smirked.

“Good, I’m glad. You did great!” You complimented, ripping the velcro strap with your teeth as you took off the mitts. Harry did the same, shaking out his arms as he clenched and unclenched his fists to relieve the ache from making a fist for more than an hour.

“Thank you. You’re a really great trainer, by the way. This was…the first time I had fun in the ring,” he told you honestly, and without knowing, the slightest bit of him had opened up to you.

Your eyes brightened, a glimpse of shimmer reflected on your eyes. “Really? Thank you, that makes me really happy, actually.” You felt like you were going to cry on the spot. No one, except your younger students, had ever told you that they had fun in the ring since most people used boxing as a way to get stronger and improve their punches. But fun? That was the first, and you would definitely keep that with you forever.

You and Harry walked to one end of the ring as Harry held open the top two ropes with his hand as he stepped on the bottom two ropes with his foot, holding it open for you to get out. You blushed, thanking him before you got out of the ring as he followed you out.

Once you two were on the ground, you turned around to face him. You watched as he took off his beanie, shaking his hair out as they bounced; curls were now formed into waves because of the heat and the sweat that had produced in his beanie. He looked…extra good right now. With his cheeks flushed, hair messy, and sweat dripping down his forehead, you couldn’t put into words how incredibly sexy he looked.

You cleared your throat, not wanting to get caught for ogling him. “I, uh, have to check on some things before closing. Take your time! And I’ll see you on Monday?” You raised your brows and curled your lips in as you looked up at him. A sense of flustered-ness settled in you as you waited for his answer.

He breathed out a chuckle as he looked down briefly before looking back into your eyes again. “Yeah, I’ll see you.” You nodded your head, waving at him before you headed over to the office. Harry smiled as he watched you walk into the hallway until he couldn’t see you anymore.

A small blush formed onto his cheeks as he contained himself from smiling too big and too wide. He put all of his stuff back into his bag, grabbing his towel, ridding the sweat off his skin. Grabbing his belongings, he took another glance at the hallway, hoping to get another look at you before he took off, but you were occupied with closing the gym, so he didn’t bother staying any longer.

With a small smile on his face, he walked out of the gym, taking in this new profound feeling that he’d never felt before, hoping this feeling would last.

The next morning, Harry had a sudden urge to go back to the gym. His upper body was quite sore, but he figured he could do some leg exercises to balance the soreness he felt. He normally wouldn’t workout on the weekends since those were his rest days, but despite being sore, he didn’t feel tired. It could also do with the fact that he wanted to see you again, not wanting to wait until Monday to do that again.

When he walked into the gym, ‘Ride Wit Me’ by Nelly was playing and his head slightly bopped to the music, walking over to the corner of the gym to warm up. He scanned the gym, looking for a particular person, but couldn’t find you. There were a decent amount of people, not too crowded or too little, so it should’ve been easy to find you. Thinking that you were probably in your office, he shook off the slight disappointment and got ready to workout.

Throughout his workout, his head wasn’t in it. He kept glancing through the mirror to see if you had shown up, but you hadn’t. His eyes were always looking over at the front door every time someone would walk in, but a small frown settled onto his face when he realized it wasn’t you.

He wrapped up his workout an hour later, thinking that he somewhat still got a good workout in. He walked out of the gym, saying bye to some of the guys that had caught him before he left.

It was nearing noon when his stomach had growled, urging him to consume some food. There was a Mediterranean hole-in-the-wall restaurant right across Don’s Box, and his mouth watered at the thought of it. He walked to his car that was parked on the side of the street to drop his bag off before walking across the street to the restaurant.

He scanned the menu, standing on the side since he didn’t know what he was ordering yet. The sound of the door ringing and a voice that was speaking to him brought him out of his thoughts.

“Are you in line?” Harry turned his head towards the voice, and his heart nearly beating ten times faster when he saw you. He had a shocked expression on his face, not expecting to see you, especially when you were wearing the complete opposite of what he normally sees you in. You were wearing a pair of blue denim overalls with a black t-shirt underneath, along with white Reebok sneakers. You had a bit of makeup on; an orange sparkly eyeshadow look with some mascara that made your eyelashes look full and natural. Your lips were painted in a red-orange lipstick stain, bringing out more of your natural lip color.

The beauty that Harry’s eyes were blessed with made his knees weak, sending shivers to his skin. Your angelic appearance had struck him so hard that he was sure he would see the light of day, hoping to meet you up there since you were a real-life angel.

“Y/N…hi,” he managed to spit out.

“Hi, Harry. Did you just workout?” You asked.

He nodded, feeling a bit nervous. “Uh, yeah, I did.”

“You don’t usually go in on Saturdays…” you noticed, only seeing him during the weekdays. You’re off on Saturdays, but there was one Saturday that you had gone into the gym briefly, and you didn’t see him there.

“Yeah, I felt like going in today,” he said, obviously leaving out the part that he only went to the gym to see you again, but you didn’t need to know that bit. There was a moment of silence between you two until Harry remembered that he was probably holding up the line for you. “Oh, you could go ahead. I’m not ready to order yet.”

You smiled, nodding your head as you stepped forward in the line. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No, I haven’t. Do you have any suggestions?”

You slightly squinted your eyes at him. “Do you trust me?” You asked.

That was a difficult question for him, and somewhat vague. Did you mean overall, at the moment, or for his food order? Either way, he nodded because he knew that it didn’t matter what you meant--he had this sense of security with you that he would trust you with his life, and that said a lot, considering that he’d only known you for a month.

“Yeah, I do trust you,” he stated honestly.

His words brought a grin to your face, looking at him appreciatively. Based on your observations of him, you noticed that he was a bit closed off; he didn’t open himself up, and if he did, it took a lot in him to do just that. So, hearing him tell you that he trusts you made you grateful, and you would never do anything to take advantage of that trust because he didn’t just give it out easily.

“I got you,” you simply said before turning back around towards the cashier. Harry softly smirked as he took a step forward to stand next to you. You looked at him, flashing him a toothy grin before quickly facing forward.

You ordered your favorite dish from the restaurant, which was a beef kabab plate, for the both of you. Harry quickly got his wallet out, offering to pay, but you told him that you got it this time, hoping your words conveyed that you wanted there to be a next time. He shyly thanked you for the lunch, keeping your words in mind because he would definitely be up for a ‘next time.’

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for your order to come out, which was fortunate for Harry because he was starving. You suggested eating outside since it was a beautiful day out and Harry agreed, following you out of the restaurant.

You two sat on the metal chairs, digging into your dishes. Harry’s mouth watered as he ate, his stomach being satisfied. There was a comfortable silence that settled between you two, only making small conversation when you asked if he liked the food, which you were glad to hear that he loved.

“So, how long have you been running Don’s Box?” He suddenly asked, wanting to get to know you better.

You raised your brows at his question. “For about two years now. My father, Don, opened the gym when he was twenty-five, that’s when he had me as well. But when he opened the gym, it practically changed his life. He’d boxed all of his life, and he was happy training other people when he started getting more people to come into his gym. When I was about six, he told me that he wanted me to run the gym when I turned twenty-five, only if I wanted to. But of course, I did. I looked up to him all of my life, and the gym made me happy as well,” you explained, smiling at the memory of when you were younger, being excited to turn twenty-five to do the same thing your father did.

A soft smile appeared on Harry’s face as you reminisce on the memory.

“How long have you been boxing?”

“Since I was eight. Don showed me the ropes when I told him I was ready. There used to be a seating area on the side of the ring because when I was younger, I used to sit there and watch him work and train people. So, I was pretty interested and intrigued about fighting to get myself stronger, even at the young age of eight,” you chuckled.

You were a daddy’s girl, always had been since you were born. Don had always set a pretty amazing example of how you should go about living your life. He would always say ‘Live your life with a strong punch. Keep your head up, and don’t let anything get to you because you’re so much more than what other people say. But if you need to cry, you can—there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.’

As your eyes watered from the thought of your father’s words, Harry watched as you got emotional and he couldn’t help but think that you’ve crossed a line in asking too many questions.

“Sorry, I always get emotional-”

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped—I should’ve kept the questions to myself-”

“Oh, no! You didn’t overstep whatsoever. I’m glad you asked me those questions, I just get soft and emotional over my dad, so hence, I’m tearing up,” you let out a somewhat pathetic chuckle as you couldn’t believe that you almost cried in front of this gorgeous man. You dabbed the corners of your eyes with your napkin, stopping the tears from falling out.

Harry nodded understandingly, waiting for you to regroup yourself. You kept apologizing, but he kept telling you that you had nothing to be sorry for.

“Really, if you need to cry, you can…” he told you. Your eyes widened; you were just thinking about your dad’s words two minutes ago, and for Harry to say the exact same thing Don had always told you without even knowing that Don had said those words.

Not wanting to cry in front of him, you simply nodded your head, holding the napkin on the outer corner of your eye, so the napkin would catch your tears.

Harry quickly changed the subject, sensing that you needed it, and you really did, so you were grateful for that. He busied himself by telling you what his favorite ice cream flavor was since he was suddenly reminded that there was a shop just down the street. He kept you occupied by talking about all the sweet treats that he used to eat with his mom back home, and how much he missed walking down the streets in the city to eat some ice cream.

“My mum used to make this really great chocolate mousse pie, and we would eat it every weekend. It was extremely sweet, but it was delicious. I really miss it…” he told you. That had been a while ago, but it was like he could still taste the dessert as if he just ate it yesterday.

“Is your mom back home in England?” You asked, figuring that there wasn’t any harm in asking to get to know him since he asked you some questions as well.

“Uh…actually, I don’t know where she is…” he said honestly, and you knitted your brows in confusion. “I mean, honestly. I don’t know where she is. Ever since I went to uni, she’s been all over the place, taking vacations and barely calling. I-I feel like she’s forgotten about me,” he spoke ever so softly as he was fragile.

You listened to him intently, giving him your full attention as he was opening up a part of his life that you knew he doesn’t tell a lot of people. A part of him that he’s kept in for so long and just the passing sense of relief he felt saying those words and speaking up about this subject had made him feel so much better.

“I’m sure she didn’t forget about you.”

“Seemed like it. We inherited my grandfather’s will—left us a generous amount for each of us that’ll take care of us for the rest of our lives. And she took that and ran with it. I mean, I get it—she wants to live her life, and now’s the time to do that because she’s got the money for it, but I feel…abandoned. She got up, said goodbye, and just…left. It just makes me think that I’m not good enough—that I wasn’t good enough to stay.” Harry opened a can of worms that he can’t take back anymore. But the trust that he had in you already made him want to talk about everything with you; to open up about all of his stresses and insecurities.

Boldly, you reached your arm across the table but immediately pulled away because you didn’t want to touch him without asking. But before you could open your mouth and ask, Harry had reached forward, meeting your hand halfway as his palm was facing up as if it was a way of saying ‘you can hold my hand if you want.’ Blushing, you reached forward again and took your hand into his.

The touch was sweet and tender as you two held hands; the want to hold each other tighter was present, wanting to take away Harry’s pain.

“Harry, you will always be good enough. I know we just met a month ago, but I already know that you’re the sweetest, kindest person. Please know that. You are enough, and I’m grateful that you’re here and that I’m sitting across from you, eating lunch,” you declared. Harry sniffled, not knowing what to say as he put his head down, so you continued. “For as long as we’re friends, I’m gonna stay.” You spoke with complete honesty as you caressed the back of his hand with your thumb.

Harry’s head lifted up at your last statement in disbelief as if this was the first time someone had ever said that to him.

“Really?”

You squeezed his hand, making his heart flutter. “Yeah. As long as you want me to,” you reassured, nodding.

Harry gave you a soft and appreciating smile as he took a deep breath. The breath that he held in throughout the entirety of the conversation was finally let out in relief. He shrunk back into his seat, still holding your hand as you continued rubbing it, and he breathed out a chuckle. It was an overwhelming feeling that was riddled with happiness and a sense of security washed over him.

It was like he had been waiting for you; someone new that unexpectedly came into his life was scary because it was change, but it was a good change. A change for the better. He had been vulnerable enough to open himself up, and it all led to the tight bond and trust you two had with one another, sealing your friendship and relationship.

And you both knew this moment was going to change everything.

Time had passed by rather quickly as it was nearing the end of October. The weather was getting chillier as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the clouds earlier. There was something about the fall weather that Harry adored. It may have to do with the fact that the gloomy sky had occurred more often, or how he got to call it a night early. Whatever it may be, he liked it, or he used to.

In recent times, he wanted the sun to stay out until it was time to go to bed. He wanted warm days instead of gloomy. His new changed attitude towards life had to do with you.

You and Harry had been hanging out quite a lot; getting to know one another, getting a bite or drink, and working out together, it definitely gave Harry the chance to let go of his past. He was happier, smiled more, and laughed a lot which he didn’t know he was capable of doing those things again until he met you.

Benny loved it, though. He sure cherished it because seeing his best friend happy again was something he was afraid he wouldn’t see again. But that didn’t stop him from having a little talk with you, trying to protect Harry and set you straight.

When Harry was occupied with hitting the speed bag, Benny walked over to the ring, where you had just finished another class with your younger students.

“Hey, Benny!” You greeted him once you saw him walk towards you.

“Hey, do you mind chatting for a minute?” You raised your brows, nodding your head. Benny usually didn’t talk to you privately nor was it anything serious, but by the look on his face, it seemed pretty serious. “So, you’ve been hanging out with Harry a lot, hmm?”

You smiled softly. “Yeah! Hope you don’t mind that? Know I’m taking your best friend and all…”

“No, I don’t mind. I’m actually glad you are. He seems quite taken by you, and I haven’t seen him like that in a very long time,” Benny said honestly. You seemed to know where this conversation was going now, and now that you thought about it, you expected this from Benny because they were like brothers and Benny would do anything to protect Harry. “What I’m trying to say is…if you’re only hanging out with him to fuck with him, don’t bother. He’s been through enough, and I know he can’t handle anymore of that and I can’t stand to see him like that again.”

“Like what?” You hesitatingly asked.

“Like…just know that he was a mess. He couldn’t get up, eat, drink, shower, or anything. I had to physically help him. I don’t want to see him like that ever again.” Benny shook his head as if he was reliving the horrible nightmare that he went through a few years ago.

“Is this about his mom?”

“He told you that?” He asked, just to make sure, and you nodded. “Kind of. But that’s only half of it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, but I’ve already said too much. Just…take care of him, okay? He tries to act tough sometimes, but he’s trying his best to not break down. Although, I haven’t seen that kind of look on him since he’s been hanging out with you, so you’re probably doing something right.”

You nodded understandingly. “Thanks for talking to me. I don’t plan on breaking his heart at all, and I’m quite taken with him myself,” you admitted.

“Good. I’m glad you are. He’s a great guy.” Benny smiled, and you agreed.

Benny didn’t talk to you for much longer before he started getting cold from standing around, so he ended the conversation and went back to working out.

Meanwhile, as you and Benny were talking, Don took the chance himself to talk to Harry, seeing as you were occupied.

“Harry.” Don made himself present around him.

Harry immediately stopped his workout, greeting your father. “What’s up, Don?”

“So, I’ve noticed that you’ve been hanging around Y/N a lot.” Don’s stance changed as he crossed his arms, sporting a slight frown. Harry gulped; he always found Don to be quite intimidating, ever since he joined the gym, but Harry didn’t want to seem like he couldn’t have a serious conversation with the father of the woman that he’s slowly falling for--no, he couldn’t act like that. “What’s that all about?” Don added.

“I’m just…we’re friends, so we’re just hanging out. Nothing more,” he told Don honestly. Although he would like there to be more, he didn’t know how you felt about him or if you even felt anything for him at all.

Don nodded. He could tell that Harry was holding back on something he wanted to say, and he had an idea of what that was. So, he let loose of the intimidating and protective act, knowing that wasn’t really him anyway, and his expression softened as he uncrossed his arms. He placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder, taking a deep breath.

“You have this look of wanting to say more and you don’t have to tell me, but I will tell you this…if you want to date her and go out with her, you can. This isn’t approval and a ‘yes’ for you to take her out because I don’t need to do that--she can make her own decisions. All I’m saying is that if you want to, go for it. Life is too fuckin’ short to not do anything, to not say anything.”

Harry’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled in appreciation at Don’s words. “Thanks, Don. I definitely want to take her out, but I just don’t know how she feels about me.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure she feels something for you--she hasn’t told me, but I just know. You’re the first guy in a while that she’s been hanging around with consistently, and that comforts me, in a way. Knowing that she’s living her life and not holding back anymore.” Harry stayed silent, taking his words in. He tried not to overanalyze what Don had said because you’ll tell him and open up to him when you want to, just like how you’re patiently waiting for Harry to open up fully as well. “Just…don’t break her heart, okay? She’s been through enough and I just want her to be happy.”

Harry nodded understandingly, saying a soft ‘okay’ before Don changed the subject and talked about how Harry should train with him one of these days, which Harry immediately said yes to and they planned for the following week to train. Don left him to finish his workout, telling him to have a nice night as you and Harry were going out to dinner.

Benny and Harry finished up their workout, and before they were able to head out the front door, Harry stopped, telling Benny to give him a minute. Harry fast-walked towards you, lugging his bag on his shoulder. You were coming out of your office, which was why Harry couldn’t say goodbye to you after his workout.

“Hey, we’re heading out,” he said, wiping the bit of sweat on the back of his neck with his towel.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up,” Harry suggested, pursing his lips into his mouth as he contained his smile. You nodded, eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “I’ll, uh, page you,” he slightly smirked.

“Okay,” you mindlessly responded as you were getting quite lost in his green eyes that looked at you intently with a gleam that sat so perfectly against his irises, making his eyes glimmer brightly.

He gave you one last smile and a little wave before walking out of the gym with Benny. You were left stunned as you stood there, completely drifted away from reality as you were in a dream about Harry. You felt a small nudge on your shoulder, causing you to snap out of your thoughts and dream as you turned around to see your father laughing.

“Get back to work.” A smug plastered on his face.

A breathy chuckle was released from your mouth as a hint of embarrassment emerged onto your face with wide eyes. You got back to work, focusing your attention on training your next client, but your mind was racing at the thought of Harry.

As he promised, Harry paged you when he was outside of your apartment complex. He wanted to knock on your door like the proper gentleman that he is, but the buzzer machine to let people in wasn’t working, so paging you would have to do for now. He waited for you outside of his newly washed car, making sure it was nice and clean for you as he leaned against the passenger door.

You walked out of your building, and Harry was immediately blown away. You were wearing a black skirt with stockings that hugged your legs, and a white knitted sweater since it was on the chillier side.

Every time he saw you, his heart would beat incredibly fast, pulse pounding through his veins. His stomach was in flits of butterflies, soaring in his heart and stomach, making him extremely nervous. Every time he saw you, everything would stop, like you were the only person in the world and everything was okay.

“Hey, H,” you flashed him your smile, one that he looked forward to every time he saw you.

“H-Hi,” he stuttered, clearing his throat to start over. “Hi. You look really nice.”

You blushed. “Thank you! You look great as well. Love this top.” You reached forward, lightly tugging at his red-orange knitted long-sleeve. He paired it with blue jeans that flared at the bottom with white sneakers. His fingers were covered in beautiful silver rings, making his hands look quite gorgeous.

“Thank you, shall we?”

“Yeah, oh, I got you something.” You reached into your bag to take out the cased CD, and before Harry was about to protest, you handed it to him. “I made you this mixtape. Just some songs that I think you’ll like—I’m sure you know all of them, but they just made me think of you,” you said shyly.

You weren’t normally shy and you would call yourself a pretty strong and confident person, but you had been so nervous to give this to him—even making the tape left you anxious and shaking.

“Wow, this is…very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.” Harry looked at the CD with the songs written in your handwriting. There were 10 songs, and Harry knew all of them. They were all…romantic songs.

“That’s not weird, right? Y’know, making you a mixtape?” You asked unsurely. The odd feeling had popped into your mind at the last second as you watched Harry observe the CD, not giving a bad nor good reaction to your gift.

“No, not at all! I really appreciate this. No one has ever made a mixtape for me before, so this is really nice and special. Thank you again.” He reached forward, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as both of your arms found their way around his waist. You somewhat weren’t convinced that he liked it, and he could tell just by how you were looking at him--looking for some more reassurance--that it seemed like he didn’t like it. When he pulled away, he looked at you before saying, “Really, it makes me happy that you took the time to make this for me. It’s so sweet and thoughtful of you, and I already love all the songs on here, so I’m one-hundred-percent going to enjoy this.”

You nodded, smiling softly as he opened the door for you and you thanked him, blushing as you got in. It seemed very much like a date and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of that.

Harry drove to the sandwich shop that waited for you both. It was twenty minutes away on the other side of the town, but Harry had been raving about it so much to you that you told him that you two should go, which Harry was more than happy to take you.

The sound of Boyz II Men filled the speakers of Harry’s car as the two of you sang your hearts out to ‘On Bended Knees,’ putting full emotion and passion into singing. You held up your water bottle, pretending that it was a microphone, and Harry kept shifting his gaze on you, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but also wanting to look at you as you sang. He smiled to himself, absolutely loving how you were so carefree--something that he admired about you.

His heart fluttered, curling his lips into his mouth before he did something that was quite bold of him to do. Reaching over, he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. Your body was frozen, but you continued to sing, covering up the fact that Harry was holding your hand so casually. You were stiff as a board, so you tried loosening up, swaying your body from side to side, slightly averting your eyes towards him as he continued to drive.

The moonlight cast through the car window, giving him a dim glow, accentuating his features; jawline prominent, his lashes shadowed down onto his cheeks, and his eyes were calm; the light reflecting against his glassy green eyes. Your heartbeat a million miles a minute as you looked at him. You had this appreciation and admiration for him--that you were lucky and grateful that you have him and that there was nothing more beautiful than the man sitting beside you.

With your face on fire, you smiled as you carried on, singing with the warmth of Harry’s hand connected with yours.

You were sitting across Harry, munching on your sandwich as you listened to him talk about how he wanted to actually find a job. He’s been sitting around, living quite wealthy as his inheritance sat safely. But he’d been getting bored. Every day was a routine for him and it was a pretty boring routine, he would say. The only places he really went to were the gym and the places that the two of you went together, but that was it. He needed a hobby, something that he could escape to that doesn’t require breaking a sweat from punching bags and mitts.

“You said you like books, so maybe you could see if the bookstore down the street from the gym is hiring. That would be a nice little place to work at,” you suggested.

Harry’s eyes lightened up, apart from thinking that was a great idea and the other part from being surprised that you remembered such a small detail about him when he’d talked about books briefly with you.

“I should definitely do that, thank you. I love that bookstore, it’s-”

“Y/N?” Harry was interrupted by a man who had walked over to your table. Harry looked up, observing the guy as he was looking at you so intently. He quickly looked at you as you were looking up at the man with a shocked expression on your face, wide eyes and mouth slightly opened.

“Uh, hi,” you said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Your eyes glanced at Harry and he had a worried expression on his face, eyes asking if you were okay. You nodded softly, bringing your attention back to him.

“I-I’ve been calling the gym and paging you, but you haven’t been answering any of them…” the man mentioned slyly. You were quite speechless, not expecting him to be here and not knowing what to say.

“I, uh-”

“Can we talk right now?” He asked. You were flickering your eyes between Harry, someone that you were completely infatuated with, and the man that you were completely irritated with. But if you didn’t talk to him right now, he wouldn’t leave you alone and wouldn’t stop calling you, so you made the mistake of saying a soft ‘okay’ as you got up, looking over at Harry, giving a subtle smile.

Just by the way he was looking at you, you knew you had regretted your decision and you wished that you hadn’t given in so easily.

Once you were outside, you crossed your arms, in a way to seem reserved and closed off, but in reality, you really were. The uncomfortableness you felt was something you haven’t felt in a while as it felt like your stomach was boiling as bile salivated your mouth. Your fists were hidden underneath your arms, clenching, and your lips were curled into your mouth to immediately spew inappropriate sayings and vile remarks.

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, brows pinched together.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for quite a while now, but I just wanted to talk. I hate how we ended things…” he said remorsefully. You tried not to fall for the pouty look he was giving you as if he knew quite well you would fall for it.

“It’s been six months, Max,” you reminded him. You and Max had an ugly breakup, and you had been picking up your own pieces yourself. You two had been together for nearly a year until he started to act differently. Noticing that he was going home late, staying at the bars until the early hours of the morning, and being quite rude and dismissive towards you, it ended in a screaming match where he ended up spitting out rude comments at you--calling you ugly, useless, and boring. It also caused him to confess that he was cheating on you for half the time you were together with him, and you thought that was a lie he made up just to make you angry, but a month after the breakup, you had found out that was true because you had accidentally bumped into the girl he was cheating on you with. At the time, you couldn’t blame him because the girl was absolutely gorgeous and seemed a lot of fun, but now, you know your worth and you absolutely didn’t deserve that whatsoever.

For six months, you hadn’t seen him, but he had been leaving you countless calls to the gym phone. However, Max wouldn’t dare to step foot in the gym ever again because Don had clearly threatened him when he saw Max on the street, pinning him up against the brick wall by his shirt and yelling in his face that if he ever came close to you or the gym ever again, he wouldn’t see the end of the day.

Don would’ve lost his shit if he saw Max in front of you.

“This is pointless. I was fine living my life for the past six months without you. In fact, I haven’t even thought about you until you showed up. Couldn’t you see I was doing just fine? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Your tone was scornful, not wanting to be in front of him anymore but instead the lovely man inside.

“I just assumed you wanted some sort of closure…”

“If I wanted closure, then I would’ve called you. But I don’t need closure. I was doing okay-”

“With who? That man inside the restaurant?” He interrupted, brows raised. His demeanour suddenly changed just because you had given him the slightest bit of attitude. Max went from soft, wanting forgiveness to the Max that you saw last--completely offensive, rude, and a dickhead.

“Yeah, his name is Harry, by the way. I was doing okay until you showed up!” You rolled your eyes, making your way back inside to Harry, who was waiting for you inside.

Of course, Max wasn’t done until he got the last word, so he yelled out, “You know, whatever you’re doing with him, he’s gonna leave you; just like how I left you.” You slowly turned around, heart aching as his words had definitely done something this time. “You think Harry cares about you Y/N? Think again, he’s gonna leave you and you’re gonna be alone. You’re nothing, Y/N--not without me, at least. You aren’t worth anything, and you had to take over your dad’s gym to feel like you are. Stop fooling yourself.”

Your eyes watered, trying your hardest not to let them slip from your eyes. You had already felt weak tearing up in front of him, so you couldn’t imagine what he would think if you bawled your eyes out. Suddenly, you heard the bell above the restaurant door chime. You didn’t bother turning around, but you somehow knew that it was Harry who was behind you.

“Everything alright here?” Harry asked warily, eyes pointed towards you.

“Yeah, man. See you, Y/N.” With that, he walked away, hopefully for good. Harry knew everything wasn’t alright with how you’re ready to burst into tears. As much as he wanted to follow him, force an answer out of him as to why you were in such distress, he was more worried about you.

Standing in front of you, Harry placed an arm on your shoulder, his other hand held the brown paper bag that had both of your leftovers as he didn’t want to eat without you. Your body was tense, not because of Harry’s touch but because of the words that had taken such an effect on you, and you were doing everything to not break down in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Hey, you okay?” Harry asked softly, bending down slightly to look you in the eyes. Your eyes were pointed down at the ground, thinking that if you looked Harry in the eyes, you were going to break.

“Uh, c-can you take me to the gym, please?” You asked once you fully gained the courage to speak, but your voice was shaky.

Harry immediately nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go.” He put his arm around your shoulders and you comfortably nuzzled into his side as he guided you to his car.

The drive back was silent—the complete opposite from the drive to the restaurant. Instead of happiness radiating out of your bodies, the space felt gloomy. Harry’s mind had spiraled as he drove, thinking about what that man could have possibly said to you. He was torn between wanting to be angry, but he was more concerned for you because you had never been this silent before.

Once Harry was in front of the gym, you immediately got out before he was able to turn off the car. Using your keys, you unlocked the front door, turning off the alarm system before throwing your purse, not caring where it landed and rushed towards the heavy bags.

This was where you let all your anger out. The place where you screamed at the top of your lungs with no care on who might hear you. This was your safe space, and if someone was going to judge you for utilizing your safe space, then they didn’t belong there.

You screamed, punched, and kicked the heavy bag with full force as your tears had streamed down your face. Your heart was beating painfully with every scream you forced out of your body. Your punches were solid, making the bag swing back and forth, but your knuckles were starting to redden because you didn’t wrap your hands.

Harry quickly followed you, a frown plastered on his face as he watched you let your anger out all on the heavy bag. He let you do your thing, watching from the sidelines before he waited for the right moment to cut in.

“You. Fucking. Stupid. Piece. Of. Shit,” you yelled out with every punch. You sniffled, continuing to punch the bag, eyes glossy from your endless amount of tears.

The friction from the leather and your bare skin was rubbing against each other, cutting and peeling open your skin. Your hands had numbed the pain, so you carried on with your punches until Harry had wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and away from the heavy bag once he started to see redness and blood scattered onto your knuckles. You screamed, your body protesting, wanting to continue punching, but you knew you didn’t have any more energy.

Turning around in his arms, your face was met with his chest, sobbing into his shirt. Harry’s hands soothed your back, comforting you as his heart ached from the sadness you radiated. Your bloody hands clutched his shirt as you cried, tears staining his shirt. Your whines and whimpers filled the empty gym, echoing back at you.

Everything hurt—your heart, eyes, body, and your hands were now starting to sting. Harry held you tighter, carefully taking a seat onto the ground and bringing you down with him. You sat in between his legs and your head rested on his shoulder.

After a moment, he felt you calm down and your body physically relaxed. Mindlessly, his hand brushed your hair back from your forehead, pressing a kiss to your skin. Harry hadn’t realized he did that until he pulled away and he hoped he hadn’t crossed a line by doing that. But when he kissed your forehead, you pulled him closer, burying your face into his neck.

“Talk to me—tell me what you need, angel,” he said softly, wanting to help and be there for you. The nickname had completely slipped out as he’d been calling you that in his head. He’d never seen you break down at all, so this was very new to him.

You shook your head, nickname going over your head. “Nothing. Just you.”

Harry nodded his head, heart fluttering at your words as he held you tighter. He continued to soothe your hair and back as he heard you sigh deeply at the comfort. Looking down at your hands, he realized they were still bloody and cut up, and he knew that your cuts needed to be treated as soon as possible.

“Can I take care of your hands? I’m still gonna be close, just wanna bandage you up.” You sniffled, nodding your head. Harry slightly smiled, carefully getting up before helping you up. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, first asking you where the first aid kit was, and you two walked to one of the offices to get the kit before going to the restroom. “Wanna sit?” He asked, patting the cold counter. Nodding your head, you placed your hands on the counter, but he quickly stopped you, taking off his jacket for you to sit on.

“Thank you,” you softly said to him gratefully before jumping to sit on the counter.

Harry opened the box that contained multiple and different types of bandages, an instant cold pack, thermometer, antiseptic wipes, and scissors. Harry washed his hands well before grabbing the antiseptic wipe and ripping it open. He situated himself between your legs, gently grabbing your hand to rest on his. He looked up at you, first asking you if it was okay to start, and when you said yes, he slowly and carefully started to wipe the area around the cut.

You watched him as he cleaned your cuts; he was so focused on wiping the blood that stained your skin and was careful not to press too hard because you were starting to bruise already. As you watched him, you felt immensely grateful. It’d been a while since you had a true friend that would help you with anything and take care of you. Your feelings for him had skyrocketed, heart pounding so loud you could feel it in your ears.

“The guy at the restaurant was my ex-boyfriend, Max,” you suddenly said. Harry looked up at you to let you know that he was listening as he continued to clean your hands. “It was a bit of a messy breakup; he called me names, insulted me, and confessed that he was cheating on me. When I saw him at the restaurant, that was the first time since the breakup, and it was like I relived that day again.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Harry asked, holding back his anger because he knew the answer, Harry watched through the window the entire time and noticed your posture and demeanor change, causing Harry to quickly pay and rush outside just in case anything happened.

“Y-Yeah.” Your voice croaked. “Said I didn’t amount to anything—that I wasn’t anything without him-”

“That’s bullshit, Y/N-”

“I’m so mad at myself.” Tears were forming in your eyes again as you looked down at your lap. Redness brimmed your eyelids as you sniffled.

“What? Why?” Harry asked confusingly.

You shook your head at yourself. “For years, I’ve been training—learning how to defend myself for when I need it. I was raised to have a strong mindset, to not take shit from anyone because Don told me not to. But when he came around, I didn't say a word, let alone move a muscle. I hate how he made me weak. I hate how I didn’t stand up for myself.” Your voice was shaky and your tears streamed down your face as you paused for a moment. “He told me that you were gonna leave me just like everyone else in my life did,” you added.

Harry was seething, breathing in through his nose as his face hardened. He masked his anger because his priority was to comfort you, so he tried to let go of his anger for a moment.

“Listen to me.” He placed his hands on the outside of your legs, bending down to look you in the eyes. Your glossy eyes looked at him, a small pout on your face. “You’re the strongest person I know, alright, angel?” This time, you heard the pet name loud and clear, making your heart do backflips. “You didn’t let him walk all over you, no, you’re much more mature than him to ever start something. He wanted to see you angry, and frustrated. He wanted to add fuel to the fire, and you didn’t give him the satisfaction. You aren’t weak at all. You’ve got a strong heart, and I’m sure that punch of yours to his nose would damage it for good.”

You breathed out a chuckle at his last statement, nodding, knowing he was right. Harry smiled, dimples showing proudly as he wiped the tears that were falling from your eyes. Giving him a half-smile, you leaned forward, pressing your face against his collarbones. He stood up straight to wrap his arms around your back. You daringly placed a kiss onto the exposed skin that was peeking out from his shirt. Harry’s face warmed up at the touch that was so soft and delicate, yet felt like it was burning through his skin. You pulled away, looking up at him as you thanked him.

Your eyes darted between his eyes and his lips as your face was just inches away from him. His face was delicate and his beauty shined over the darkness of the world. It was as if he didn’t seem real like you couldn’t believe someone so beautiful and breathtaking was standing right in front of you. You studied every curve, movement, and freckle on his face as they all very well defined him, heightening your admiration with every look of his perfections and imperfections.

Harry blushed under your stare, clearing his throat as he felt nervous. He pulled his face away a tad bit, offering you a small smile. “Of course. Always gonna be here for you. Now, let me just finish cleaning your hands before taking you home.”

You nodded, letting him finish with his task. His hands were gentle as he wrapped the bandage around your hand. Your heart was filled with so much admiration and gratitude that you simply wouldn’t know what to do if Harry weren’t there today. The growing feelings had taken over your heart and mind that you were a bit scared, but nonetheless, you let them take over.

Harry sat at the bar next to Benny, nursing a beer he had ordered ten minutes ago. It had been a while since they hung out together, but that was because Benny was trying to get his wife pregnant, so when Marianne calls, they spent their time baby-making. The other reason was that Harry was spending most of his time with you, which he loved every minute of.

“So, a little bird told me that you’ve been going to the gym on Saturdays now,” Benny mentioned, a hint of tease in his tone.

Harry chuckled. “Really? And who told you that?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Starts with a D and ends with an N,” Benny laughed, giving you the obvious answer.

“Well, I’ve been going in on Saturdays because Don always schedules our training sessions on Saturdays. Nothing else,” he slightly lied. After his first training day with Don, Harry told Don that he wanted to continue training with him because he gets a good workout with him rather than by himself, hitting the heavy bag or speed bag, so Don always scheduled for Saturdays since those were the easiest days.

But other than the training sessions, he also got to see you on Saturdays, which he really enjoyed because sometimes after his workout, you two would grab a bite to eat or plan to hang out later that day. He liked it, he liked you.

“Hmm, interesting. It doesn’t have to do with a particular trainer who also happens to own the gym?” Benny raised his brows.

“Not really into Don, to be honest,” Harry joked, bouncing around Benny’s question. They both laughed, slamming their hand on the bar top.

“Really, though. I’m happy for you. You’ve been in such a happier mood, and that’s all I want—is for you to be happy. She’s doing a great job,” Benny said honestly. Seeing his friend happy after everything he’s been through had lifted a certain weight off of his shoulders, and it seemed like he didn’t need to worry about Harry.

Harry simply nodded, smiling as words weren’t necessary. He always felt like Benny was always concerned about him, and although he appreciated him being worried, he didn’t need to anymore because Harry was finally feeling much happier than he was before.

“There you are.” A voice was suddenly heard next to Harry along with a hand on his shoulder. Harry tensed up, and he hadn’t in a while, but he knew that wasn’t your voice nor was it your touch. Harry turned his head to the side to find Lizette sitting on the stool next to him, giving him a smug smile. He didn’t say anything but look at Benny, and saw his eyes narrow, confused as to why Lizette was here. “I’ve been calling your home and paging you. Why haven’t you been answering me?” She pouted.

Harry knew that pout all too well. She used it to trick you into saying yes to her and getting what she wanted, but Harry was stronger than that now; he knew how to hold his ground.

He hadn’t seen Lizette ever since the week before he joined Don’s Box. With all of his time spent with you, he hadn’t really thought about Lizette, if he’s being honest. You had fully taken every inch and space of his mind that it was maximum capacity, but he still found a way to make space from the invading thoughts of you.

“Just been…busy, Lizette, that’s all,” he said, not giving her his full attention as he looked at his bottle.

“Too busy for me?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He didn’t want to outright be rude to her because naturally, Harry was a kind and thoughtful man, so he kept his harsh thoughts to himself.

She inched closer to Harry, close enough to where her mouth was against his ear as she whispered, “Well, since I so happened to run into you, how about we go back to yours?”

Harry took a deep breath. He felt like he was his old self again—making impulsive and not so thought out decisions that end up fucking him and his emotions over in the future. Being with Lizette was something, and it helped make him feel a little less lonely, even though she immediately left right after she got what she wanted.

But Harry hadn’t felt lonely at the moment and in months. He had his best friend next to him, having a drink, and he had you. He wasn’t lonely at all. So, why was he getting off the stool and putting his coat on before closing his tab for the night?

Benny’s eyes widened, looking at Harry as if he was asking what the actual fuck was he doing. Harry simply shrugged, patting his friend on the back before following Lizette out of the bar. The air was cold, but it wasn’t a delightful cold that he wanted to be in. It almost seemed kind of eerie as the gray clouds hovered over them.

Lizette hugged Harry’s arm. “I’m glad you agreed.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek, but he immediately pulled away, taking his arm out of her hold.

“You should go home,” he told her. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out as she was confused. “Get a ride home. I’m not taking you home nor am I going with you. I don’t want to do this anymore, Lizette.”

“But you came with me-”

“That didn’t mean I was saying yes to your offer. I came out here with you to get you off of me and not embarrass me in front of my friend and the entire bar.” Harry’s voice was stern as he crossed his arms. “I know you’ve never really cared about me, so please just do me a favor and leave. I’m happier now-”

“You’re happier? With some other girl, huh?” Harry nodded and Lizette rolled her eyes, expression annoyed as she was beginning to get angry and defensive. “You think she cares? Guess what, Harry, she doesn’t. She’s gonna leave you just like your mom left you, your ex-girlfriend left you. Remember when she fucked your best friend in college? That she left you to be with him? And look at them now, they’re married! They don’t give a single fuck about you! What makes you think that this girl you’re seeing does?”

Lizette had definitely hit a nerve. Harry had gone four years without hearing the story on how his ex left him for one of his friends from uni. The situation was quite sad, and it left Harry in pieces. Not to mention, Lizette was his ex’s best friend and she somehow seduced him into regularly having sex with her, which wasn’t entirely her fault because Harry was lonely and needed to feel something to fill the void of his loneliness.

“Don’t think you’re so easy to love, Harry. It takes a lot of effort to do that, especially with you. You’re gonna continue being scared and closed off, and people are gonna continue to run away-”

“Harry?” Lizette was suddenly interrupted by you. You were walking to the bar because Benny had invited you, thinking that it would’ve been a nice surprise for Harry and to hang out with just the three of you. But you had seen Harry and some woman on the street and his face looked angry. “Uh, hi.”

You turned towards the unknown woman as she looked you up and down before turning towards Harry, raising her brows as she figured out who you were and who Harry had been spending so much time with.

Harry completely blocked you out, his attention was towards the statements Lizette had made. He had been doing so much better, and all of a sudden the relapse hit him ten times harder, like his accomplishment of being okay with himself completely disappeared.

Was he that hard to love? He knew that he pushed people away, that’s for sure, but he didn’t realize that it was difficult to love him. Harry then thought about the people that had left him because they didn’t love him enough to stay. His ex left him for his friend, it seemed like his mum had forgotten about him, and soon enough, Benny was gonna get tired of him and so were you.

“And you are?” You asked, scowling at the woman in front of you. Lizette smirked, seeing as there was an opportunity right in front of her. She didn’t find you

intimidating whatsoever.

“Oh, guess Harry didn’t tell you, but we’ve been sleeping with each other for years. Friends with benefits, if you will,” Lizette answered with some sass and a snarl to her tone as she watched your expression turn into a hurtful one.

Your face had softened as your eyes welled up with tears, but you didn’t dare let them fall. You looked at Harry and it seemed like he was in his head, but you had no clue he was ‘seeing someone.’ It felt like you had been cheated on, even though going out as friends didn’t mean anything to a fuck buddy. All of the moments you spent with him—the laughs, storytelling, training, and tension-filled moments had connected you both to one another. It made you feel special that you were seeing a side of Harry that no one else had, but you were wrong.

“Guess you’re the new girl he’s seeing?”

“What’s it to you?” Your brows knitted.

Lizette shrugged. “Nothing. Just know that Harry’s difficult and loveless. So, just get out while you can.” She reached over to touch your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back before she could. She was talking as if Harry wasn’t right next to you two, and if this was a ‘women looking out for women’ type of situation, you weren’t going to accept it because she outright just insulted Harry.

You were livid as your eyes turned dark, stepping closer to her. “Stay away from him, or I swear to god-”

“Or what? What are you gonna do?” Lizette challenged, stepping closer. She was slightly taller than you since she wore four-inch leather boots.

“Wanna find out? Next time I see you with him or hear you talk shit about him again, then you’ll find out because I can guarantee you’ll never see the light of day.” You held eye contact with her as she looked at you with such fierce emotion.

“Cute. Harry’s got a little bodyguard,” she scoffed, stepping back. “I should go,” Lizette suddenly said, breaking you out of your heartbreaking thoughts. “I’ll call you,” she told Harry, despite what you had just said. It seemed like he wasn’t even listening as his blank stare was trained onto the ground. She walked away, her heels clicking against the cement. The satisfaction she felt right now felt good, knowing her words had definitely affected you both.

When Lizette was far enough, you turned back towards Harry. This time, he was looking at you in a confused state, and it didn’t seem like him.

“I-I didn’t know you were seeing someone-”

“You should go…” he said straightforwardly. You raised your brows as you were taken back.

“I’m sorry?”

“You should leave. For good. Get out of my life while you can. I promise I won’t get mad.” His voice cracked and was shaky. He couldn’t even look you in the eye while he was talking because he knew that would break his heart even more, especially if you were to actually leave for good. The negative thoughts had taken over, and this was what he did—pushing people away and giving them a way out before they realized that Harry wasn’t a lovable or worthy enough person to stay around for.

“What makes you think I’m going anywhere?” You questioned confusingly. You wondered if he even thought about the conversation you two had a few moments ago when you had told him that you were staying for good.

“They all do, anyway. They all leave and they never come back.” His voice was starting to raise slightly, frustration and anger pouring out of his veins as his eyes were starting to tear up. A pout remained on your face as you watched the distress never leave his angelic face. “Just please go.”

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“Why won’t you-”

“Because I care! Why don’t you get that?” You raised your voice, not too loud to startle him, but enough to convey your emotions and frustrations to him.

“Because you’re going to eventually! You’re gonna leave and use me and never love me. I’m used to it, so you could go now!” Harry was starting to cry, light sobs were coming out of his mouth as he was trying to hold them back. You took a step forward, wanting to comfort him as your heart broke at the sight, but he stepped back, not wanting your touch.

Your heart sank when he stepped back away from you because he had never done that before. You two were always comfortable with one another that both of your touches had felt like security. Your tears had streamed down your face, quickly wiping them.

“Harry, I’m not gonna leave…”

“It’s fine. You don’t know what it’s like for someone to leave and never come back. You don’t know what it’s like to feel completely loveless that someone physically had to get out of your life and not want to be in it anymore. You don’t know what it’s like!” He spoke firmly as he cried, tugging his curly locks in frustration.

“I don’t know what it’s like?” You spoke loudly, and Harry looked up at you. “I know exactly what it’s like because my own mother left me when I was eleven-years-old, and I have no idea why!” You vented, sniffling. “You don’t think I know what it’s like to constantly wonder what you’re doing wrong because the people that were supposed to be there for you completely vanished? Because I do! I know that feeling quite well. So, don’t tell me I don’t know shit because it seems like we’re in the same boat.”

Harry was speechless. Sure, you two had been close and had talked about your lives and childhood, but this was something that you two had to dig deep for because it wasn’t something you regularly spoke about nor did you tell new people that you’d just met.

“I-I’m sorry I had no idea…”

“You couldn’t have had any idea, Harry. But just know that that day my mom left me still confuses me. The look on my dad’s face when he told me that mom left still haunts me. The crying I did since I was eleven hurts me because she didn’t love me enough to stay.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine, I get it. I know we’ve known each other for only a few months, but I did not expect this from you, especially because of all that we’d talked about. I’d say I’m the newest person in your life but I’m also the closest, besides Benny. So, don’t shut me out.” Your heart was beating through your chest and all of your emotions began to pile up like they were leaves, falling from the branches of the trees.

Harry looked defeated, knowing that you were right. He sniffled, not knowing what else to say because all he felt was a painful feeling in his chest since Lizette had gone up to him at the bar.

When he didn’t say anything, you just nodded, knowing that it was best to give him some space so he could realize that you were here for him and that you weren’t going anywhere.

“Call me when you wanna talk…” you told him before turning around. Harry watched you—he knew that he should go after you, not be scared and let you in, perhaps tell you that he’s practically in love with you, but he doesn’t move, feet glued to the ground.

When you were only a few feet away, you turned back around, knowing that you hadn’t gotten your final words out yet. Harry looked up when he heard footsteps approaching him.

“Fuck whatever people say to you; trying to degrade and bring you down because whatever they say, it’s not true. I will always be there to defend you, Harry. Don’t think I won’t be because I will always be on your side.” You paused for a moment. Your heart was fully opening and was beginning to be vulnerable. Trying not to let it overwhelm you, you continued. “Don’t think you’re not easy to love because you are. You’re extremely easy to love, y’know that? I would know because…I love you. And that’s crazy to say because we’ve only known each other for a short period of time, but I can’t help what I feel. So, there you go.”

Before Harry was able to say anything, you walked away, and he could hear you sniffling and crying. Harry’s mouth was ajar, completely speechless and shocked, but his heart fluttered as he took in your words. You really loved him, he thought. No one had said those words and really meant them or they hadn’t felt real to him when he heard them, so the shock that he felt was new.

You were far enough where Harry couldn’t see you. He hadn’t even moved an inch, and he knew that later on, he was going to be very disappointed in himself for not chasing you down and telling you that he loved you too. But for now, he needed to take it all in and hope that when he did tell you, it wouldn’t be too late.

Taking a deep breath, you walked inside to your apartment, sniffling as you went straight to the bathroom to take a long and hot shower. Before you left your place to go to the bar, you had been contemplating your appearance because you wanted to look good. Nerves were all over your body as you were getting ready, and you sulked at how the events had completely turned tonight around.

When you were out of the shower and changed, ready to get into bed despite the night only being nine in the evening, your pager beeped. Picking it up off the bedside table, the message was sent from Harry, reading ‘143.’ You raised your brows, reading it again and reading it once more. Your heart was pounding, studying the numbers to make sure you read them right. The simple code for ‘I love you’ was printed on your pager and you wanted to scream.

Before you could actually scream, there was a knock on your door. You walked quickly, opening it as Harry was standing behind it, holding his pager out as he smiled softly at you. You had just finished crying in the shower, so your eyes were red and a tad bit swollen, but you were close to crying again because of how overwhelmed you felt.

“Did you mean it?” You asked hesitantly, holding your pager up.

“Of course I do. Did you mean it?” He retaliated back, wondering if you meant your three words as well.

“Of course I mean it, Harry. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, wiping the tear that had slipped down your face.

“Because I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much that it hurts,” he claimed in one breath, feeling the tension and weight that he held in his shoulders release. “You’re everything to me, and you make my world less frightening. I just see your pretty smile and my day completely turns into a great one. I don’t wanna waste a day not telling you that now, and it feels pretty damn good to say it.”

You slightly nodded until you remembered one of your concerns earlier. “What about Lizette?”

“Lizette was someone I used to sleep with. I haven’t seen her nor slept with her in months—before I even met you, I promise. And I’m sorry for assuming that you didn’t know what it felt like for someone to leave and that you had to tell me under those circumstances. But just know, that I’m not gonna leave, unless you tell me to, that is.” Every bit of him was opening up and he wasn’t hiding away. He was being completely vulnerable and it had scared him a bit, but when his words came out, he felt himself get better.

You looked at him through your glassy eyes, vision blurred for a moment until you adjusted them and clearly saw the gorgeous man in front of you. His eyes were filled with tears as well, and you thought, how could someone still look so pretty while they cried? But that was Harry for you; someone who was genuinely beautiful no matter what. Someone who had a heart of gold and a flashing smile that made your heart swoon and knees weak.

You simply reached your hand out and Harry walked towards you, into your apartment as he came close to your face as your bodies were pressed up against one another. The back of his fingertips gently brushed the side of your face, admiring the beauty that stood before him as he opened his heart up completely, not wanting to go another day without saying those three words back to you.

The corners of your lips turned up and your tears were replaced by happy ones. You had walked away from Harry after you said I love you because he was looking at you like he had seen a ghost, not a friendly one, but more of a scary one. So, hearing those words were just music to your ears.

“You mean that? That you love me?” You wanted to hear it again and again and again.

“Ever word. I love you, angel,” he repeated, adding your nickname. He pressed his forehead against yours, inches away from your lips.

“Never stop calling me that,” you instructed him, smiling. The first time he had said it, you came to the conclusion that you absolutely loved hearing that name come out of his mouth, especially if it was specifically for you.

“Only if you never stop telling me that you love me,” he slightly smirked, dimples poking out. He was so immensely happy that his heart could burst just because of the love that he felt for you.

You giggled. “I love you, baby-”

“I, uh, wait. Do you mind…not calling me that?” He hesitated, and you raised your brows confused. “Someone else called me that, and I just don’t like hearing it. Never have since it came out of her mouth,” he explained shyly.

A sudden realization came to your face as you realized that Lizette probably called him that. “Okay. I won’t call you that, ever…darling.” Harry’s lips began to slowly turn up, already liking that name so much better than the other one. He hugged you; and you smiled, closing and opening your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Your arms snaked around Harry’s waist as he cradled your delicate face in his hands.

“Never stop calling me that,” he repeated your words as you two smiled and laughed until your jaws started hurting.

His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You pursed your lips, blushing as you watched his eyes glance back up and down. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, pulling him closer; hearts beating in sync as butterflies filled your stomach.

He brushed his lips against yours before fully connecting them, feeling every spark and shiver that traveled down his spine. You smiled into the kiss as the softness of his lips moved and molded against yours, feeling completely in bliss. The way his lips slotted perfectly with yours made you saturated and dizzy off of his love and touch. Butterflies were still in your stomach, but they were calm like they had been fluttering around for this moment, his touch, in order to relax.

Pulling back, he smiled down at you, eyes love-struck, before giving you another kiss, and pulling away and kissing you again once more.

“Kissing you is my new favorite thing,” he stated, drunk off kisses. You breathed out a giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you breathed in his scent. You felt his breath against your neck, feeling completely happy and content in each other’s arms.

There was no fear in the air; just the two of you with open hearts and arms, welcoming in the new and profound feeling that you both took in, knowing that it’s going to change everything for the better.

You pulled him inside and Harry kicked the door closed with his foot. His arms were holding you tight as you walked back to your bedroom. Opening your mouth slightly, Harry took the chance to meet your tongue with his, swiveling and tasting each other causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You pulled back when Harry laid down on the bed, taking in the gushy feeling you had as you smiled.

“Want you,” you simply stated.

“You have me, angel.”

“I know, but I want you. Need you,” your eyes pleaded for his touch, to feel him inside of you, for him to make you feel good. You desperately craved for his hands on all of you, his mouth kissing every inch of your skin, and his love passionately pouring out of his veins.

Harry nodded, smiling. “Need you too. Need you forever,” he said, connecting your lips again as he hovered over you.

You two kissed for a while, giggling against each other’s lips and having his weight on top of you as your hands roamed his back. You bucked your hips into his, feeling the hard-on that was growing in his pants, which made Harry grind into your center, moaning softly into your mouth.

“Please do something,” you said, and he nodded, getting off of you before taking his jacket and shirt off swiftly. His tattoos were showcased in front of you and all you wanted to do was kiss every single one of them. “You’re beautiful, Harry,” you complimented, and he blushed, a soft ‘thank you’ came out of his mouth. Next was his pants, and before he was able to take his briefs off, you stopped him, telling him that you wanted to do it.

You got off the bed, switching positions with him as you were now standing up as Harry laid down on the bed. You smiled, eyes glancing all around his body. He suddenly felt shy and intimidated under your stare, but he knew he had no reason to be because you were simply admiring him. This time around when it came to physically be vulnerable with someone, he knew he didn’t have to worry anymore when it came to you.

You took off your lilac nightgown, exposing your body to Harry’s eyes. Your nipples had hardened due to the exposure to the cold. His eyes glimmered as he gazed at your stunning and beautiful body. Every curve and inch was something he tried to remember, and he was quite speechless at the sight. He reached out, gently grabbing your hips as he roamed his hands up your body and to your breasts, grabbing both in each of his hands.

He looked up at you and you smiled down at him as he placed his mouth on your left pebbled nipple, sucking and licking it as his hand fondled with the other. You laced your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp as he did so, switching over to your right nipple.

Harry pulled away, looking at you. “You’re an actual angel. You’re so beautiful.”

“Harry…” you blushed.

“You are, angel. So beautiful. Can’t believe I get to see you like this.” He kissed the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before getting up and pushing you down onto the bed with ease. He settled in between your legs, arms hooked under your thighs.

Continuing kissing down your stomach, he reached the hem of your underwear, looking up at you before asking, “Can I take these off? Wanna make you feel good—the same way you always make me feel good.”

“Please. Take them off. Wanna feel your mouth on me,” you pleaded as your arousal heightened. You wrapped your legs around his back, eagerly pulling his head towards your center, making Harry let out a chuckle.

“Easy, angel. Not going anywhere.” Harry kissed your stomach once more before pulling off your beige underwear. You were glistening below him; you made a complete mess in your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet. This all for me?”

“Mhm. All for you, Harry, please,” you whispered impatiently. Harry’s dirty talk had only increased your need for him as it was quite surprising to see this side of him since he was more on the shy and reserved side outside, but nonetheless, you loved both sides—you loved him.

Harry leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your inner thighs, nibbling on the skin gently. You bucked your hips as he trailed his kisses towards your pussy that was eagerly waiting to be touched and licked. When he got there, he pressed a kiss to your clit before kitten-licking your sensitive button, making you softly moan.

His tongue licked into the entrance of your pussy, gathering your arousal on the tip of his tongue to lubricate your clit even more.

“Fuck,” you groaned as your hands found his curly locks, tugging at them gently.

“You could do that harder, I don’t mind it,” Harry told you before going back to eating you out. You pulled harder and Harry deeply groaned against you, sending vibrations up your body.

His hands wandered around your body, feeling the softness of your skin against his hands. Your skin had formed goosebumps due to his touch, and Harry smoothed out your skin so you were warm. He sucked on your clit quite harshly, earning a moan of his name from your lips as he grabbed both of your tits in his hands, squeezing them.

You placed your hands on top of his, squeezing them with him, and Harry almost came at the sight of that. There you were, moaning his name out, getting your pussy eaten, and squeezing your tits on top of his hands. A sight he truly was lucky enough to see.

Harry pulled one hand away to rub your clit as he tongued around your wet hole before tongue fucking you. He rubbed your clit at a moderate speed, enough for you to thrust your hips off the bed. Harry pulled his other hand that was still on one of your breasts away to pin your hips down onto the bed.

“Stay still for me, angel,” he instructed, voice deep that made you even wetter. “You taste so good. Could eat you out all day.”

“Harry…” you trailed, whining desperately for your release. “W-Wanna…cum…need to.” Your sentences were broken and Harry thought that was a good sign, knowing that he was doing so well you couldn’t form a proper sentence.

“Tell me what you need. Let me know, so I can get you there.”

“F-Fingers,” you told him, and he immediately brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing it before inserting two fingers inside your pussy. He thrust slowly, curling his fingers up to feel your walls.

He felt you pulsing around him as your legs were wrapped tightly around his back as you screamed his name over and over again.

“C’mon, love. Give me one,” he encouraged, thrusting his fingers a bit faster.

Once he hit the spot over and over again, you saw stars. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, and you felt dizzy. The pleasure that ran through your body was overwhelming in the best way possible and you choked out a few sobs. It had hit you like a brick that you saw coming, but you were still surprised and shocked by the impact.

Your hands held Harry’s hair tight that he thought for a moment that you might actually rip it off. Harry rubbed your pussy as you came down from your high, licking your orgasm that was seeping through your cunt, taking every drop of it. He looked up to see your head thrown back, chest heaving, and a vein that was bulging against your skin. He kissed your thighs while his other hand trailed across your body.

When you finally were able to catch your breath, Harry kissed up your body, leaving the softest and loving kisses to your skin as you were quite sensitive. You grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours as you immediately stuck your tongue in his mouth, swirling it with his to taste yourself on him—a mixture of his taste and your orgasm all on his tongue had made you wetter.

Harry was grinding himself against your leg, trying to relieve some pressure.

“Want you,” you told him once he pulled away, looking at him intently.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. Please? Only if you want to-”

“I definitely want to. Just wanna make sure you were sure,” he breathed out a chuckle.

“Course I want to.” There was a bit of silence between you two as you were simply just admiring him as he hovered over you. “Are you gonna fuck me, Harry?” You broke the silence, and Harry broke out of his trance, shyly giggling before getting off the bed.

He peeled away his briefs, cock standing straight up from the slight painful restraint. He was big—girth and length wise, and you felt your mouth salivating from just looking at him. He got back on the bed, in between your legs as he sat on his knees. Spitting on his hand, he grabbed a hold of his dick, stroking it to relieve the pressure. The view was beautiful in every single way possible, and you didn’t dare to bat an eye because you didn’t want to miss one second of it.

Wanting to take over for him, you reached forward, replacing his hand with yours as you slowly stroked his cock for him. Harry had a smug smile on his face but soon changed into a face of pure pleasure as your hand worked against him. His mouth was open as he let out a soft moan, looking down at your eyes as you were looking up, completely loving his reaction to your touch.

“You’re so pretty, Harry,” you complimented as you continued to touch him. Your other hand reached forward to fondle with his balls, rolling them into your hand as Harry whimpered. “Love seeing you like this. Most gorgeous man I’ve seen in my life.”

“Please, angel, you’re being too nice…” he managed to groan out, hands gripping your thighs.

“But it’s true. Look so pretty when you’re like this, but also when you’re hitting the heavy bags. When we go out to eat and you mindlessly drink your entire drink while waiting for the food. But I think you’ll look extra pretty than you already are if you cum.” Your words of declaration were getting him on the edge as you stroke him. The way your voice slightly changed as you looked up at him with the most innocent eyes made him thrust into your hand, gripping the flesh of your skin as he threw his head back.

“You think so?”

“Mhm. Gonna be so pretty when you cum all over my body, my tits. Can you do that? For me, can you do that? Please?” You were completely begging for it, but even with all the begging, he knew that you had all the control right now.

Your feet rubbed his calves up and down, and it was the simplest touch, but it heightened Harry’s need to let go.

“Wanna cum for you, yeah.” His breaths were heavy and harsh as your touch was focused on his tip, wrapping your delicate hands around the head where he was most sensitive.

Harry’s moans stuttered as a series of profanities slipped from his lips, spilling onto your stomach and breasts. You smiled to yourself as you studied his face when he came undone; his mouth was open, occasionally biting his lip, and eyes shut closed as his head was thrown back—he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, and the fact that you got to see him like this was an honor.

When he came down from his high, he slowly opened his eyes, meeting yours, staring right at him. You smirked, body covered in his orgasm, and he thought that was a picture worth taking. You were gorgeous covered in his pleasure that you caused, and you seemed to love it too since you made no effort to wipe it off.

Boldly, he leaned down, dragging his tongue from your stomach to your tit, spending the most time on your breasts as he nibbled and licked your nipples, collecting his orgasm from your skin and held it on the tip of his tongue until he reached your mouth. You willingly opened your mouth as his tongue delved right in, feeding you his cum.

You two passionately kissed, tasting him ever so sensually. You moaned into his mouth, thinking about how the sight of Harry licking his orgasm off of your body was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. With your hips jerking up, you felt yourself getting wet again and in need to release once more.

You whimpered, pulling away. “Please. Need you so bad.” Harry nodded, agreeing.

“Condom?” He asked, and you immediately reached over to your bedside table, ripping open the condom before rolling it onto his dick that was still hard.

Harry curled in his lips, watching you. You gave him a few extra strokes for good measure, earning a soft moan from his mouth. He took his length in his hand, running the tip up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and lubricating his cock. He gave you one last look and you nodded before he slowly pushed in, indulging in your wetness and softness.

A moan came out of both of your mouths, feeling completely full and warm for one another with the stretch Harry had on you. He planted his elbows on both sides of you, holding himself up over you as he slowly began to thrust.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feel so good for me.” He placed a kiss on your lips as he whispered. He found a rhythm as he started to move faster, rocking his hips against yours, making you moan.

It was a feeling like no other, and it was the amount of love you two had for one another that made this experience much more special. Love was practically oozing out of both of your veins, filling the room to its maximum capacity as the both of you moaned out in pleasure.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms looped around his back, hugging him closer to you as if he couldn’t get closer. You whined into his ear, the sounds of your pleasure were music to his eyes, sending a shiver down his body, making him jerk. But that jolt had hit your g-spot, and you screamed out in ecstasy.

“Right there. Keep doing that. Keep fucking me,” you managed to say. Harry maintained his pace, going deeper, and fucking you into oblivion as you kept crying and screaming his name out.

Harry’s lips attached to your neck, nibbling and licking your skin, leaving a few decent size love bites that he was sure to admire when they’d fully formed. Your nails had raked down his back, leaving a burning but pleasurable sting down his skin, letting him know that he was doing an amazing job.

“You like that?” He groaned into your ear, leaving chills rising onto your skin.

“Mhm. Just like that. Don’t stop. I-I’m so close.” You threw your head back into the pillows, and Harry took the opportunity to attack your exposed neck with kisses again. Your hands found Harry’s hair, tugging at his curls as he kissed you. That encouraged him to fuck you harder and faster, repeatedly hitting your special spot. “O-Oh…”

“Come on, angel love. Cum for me, please. Wanna see you make a mess around me,” he encouraged you.

With a few more thrusts, you were done. You had fully and completely released around him as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, head dizzy, and your breaths were caught in your throat as your hips involuntarily jolted, meeting his thrusts that were fucking you through your high.

Harry started to thrust sloppily, burying his face in your neck as he spilled into the condom. His hot breath was against your skin as he started to slow down, coming down from his orgasm.

The room was silent as the only sounds present were the heavy breaths and the post-orgasmic whimpers coming from your mouth as you two held one another. Your nails gently scratched down his back, contrasting to the desperate and needy scratches that you had given him just a few minutes ago.

Harry lifted his head up, meeting your eyes before connecting his lips against yours, tongue meeting first before your lips moved in sync so passionately and lovingly that you both unspokenly agreed to never taste another pair of lips again.

“I love you so much,” Harry said, resting his chin on your chest.

You smiled down at him, eyes gleaming as you looked at your love, your entire heart, the man that had stolen your breath and heart just by one look.

“And I love you too.”

Waking up to the warmth of the body next to you was your favorite thing in the morning—had been for six months now. The sight next to you was something you wouldn’t get used to as you always found yourself feeling so lucky every single time you woke up next to him.

But a pout formed onto your face when you saw that the space next to you was empty. The crinkled yellow sheets were left, missing a certain person that you had been excited to see this morning since you closed your eyes the night prior.

Turning over to your bedside table, you grabbed your pager, seeing if you had any messages, and one specifically stood out to you, making you sleepily smile at your pager.

“Goodmorning, angel,” Harry greeted as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. He was wearing a gray sweatsuit, holding a white paper bag in one hand and a smoothie tray, that held two smoothies, in the other hand with a loving smile plastered on his face, making his dimples poke out.

“Mm. Hi, darling.” Your arms reached forward, gesturing him to come to you, and he gladly did, situating himself on your body as you wrapped your arms around him.

You two stayed like that for a moment, basking in the presence and gratitude of one another. It was nice until your stomach started growling, making Harry chuckle.

“C’mon, gotta feed my girl before we head to the gym.” He got off of you, helping you up and out of the bed before helping you make the bed. He walked over to the kitchen before you went to the restroom, and when you walked out, Harry had your breakfast set on a plate.

You two made light conversation, mostly enjoying the silence and tastiness of the food before you got ready to go to the gym.

When you walked into Don’s Box, you were immediately greeted by a few of the members, giving you high fives, as well as saying hi to Harry. The entire gym had found out you two were together when they started to notice Harry coming into the gym almost every day and staying until the gym closed, so a few people had their speculations. Don was certain you two would get together from the very beginning, and he had told you that the only reason he was trying to act intimidating when Harry first walked in was that he sensed that something would happen, and he was right, something did happen.

Benny was ecstatic; jokingly telling Harry that he could now spend time with his wife since you had taken all of Harry’s time now, which Benny earned a push from Harry towards the ropes of the ring. Benny’s wife was also pregnant and wanted Harry to be the godfather, which Harry immediately took on that responsibility and role. But that also meant since you and Harry were planning on staying together for the long run, you were becoming a godmother as well, which you were very excited about.

You climbed up into the ring as Harry followed. You had a day off, and no one needed your attention other than Harry, so you helped him put on his gloves after you wrapped his hands in tape, and you put on your mitts, making sure they were tight before clapping the mitts together—Harry punched his gloves together, making sure they were comfortable.

You raised your brows at him teasingly. “Ready, darling?”

“Ready as always, my angel,” he responded, and you smirked.

“Give me a good one. Give me 1.”

talk to me about your favorite moments, your thoughts and feelings about this pls! thank you for reading <3

#timetravelathon #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #boyfriend!harry #boxer!harry #harry styles solo #harry #harry styles #harry styles story

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teklarn · 3 years

Text

𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓬𝓻𝔂 𝓽𝓸𝓸, 𝓲𝓯 𝓲𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾

character(s): izuku midoriya x gn!reader (x katsuki bakugou)

a/n: gosh i love angst (quick note!! i edit to the best of my ability, however it’s easy to miss things, and i type 100 words per minute, so im sorry if i miss some things!) this ain’t a poly relationship btw, i don’t feel like i could write that well (no shame to people who do!! personally i feel like i would butcher it)

reblogs are greatly appreciated!

based off the song: it’s my party by lesley gore

summary: y/n realizes going to katsuki bakugou’s wedding was a mistake

genre: angst all the way shawties

warnings: light cursing, heartbreak, alcohol, one-sided pining (reader), aged up/pro-hero au, sad reminiscing bc ahaha bakugou made us sad :’) and a crap load of references to the song, friend zoning (eesh)

word count: 2,566

ik yall are waiting for a part 2 of brutal and part 3 of you’re not my boyfriend but this idea just struck i had to get it down pls

- - -

“let’s raise a toast to our finest lovebirds, my best friend and his wife, katsuki bakugou and ochaco uraraka!” kirishima took a sip of champagne.

you lifted your beverage in unison with the others seated at your table but did not drink. you blinked down at the fizzing beverage.

“we wish you all the best,” kirishima said. “you and your best buds have no doubt you two’ll be known as some of the most indestructible symbols of peace.”

another wave of applause passed among the crowd. the last toast was finished and the music resumed. your entire table left you sitting. it wasn’t like you knew anyone here, anyways. nobody except for the few classmates bakugou was still in touch with.

those people consisted of izuku midoriya, who was sitting at the table across from you, as well as across the dance floor.

the lights twinkled up again, red, blue, and green flashing along the floor.

you couldn’t deny it. bakugou in a red suit, uraraka in a wedding dress fell just above her knees, a red bow tied around her waist. you did not doubt that if you were to be sold as a healthy person on the black market, that dress would still be worth more than you.

the only comfort you had was midoriya, who had greeted you when you came in, but the two of you had exchanged no further words. but he looked equally as miserable as you.

uraraka and bakugou were perfect together. they looked happy. and you were happy to see bakugou happy. happy to see uraraka happy with him.

bakugou dipped his newlywed wife to the beat of the music. her back arched perfectly into his large hands.

what hurts the most was that, while you wished it was you instead of her on that dance floor, you knew it wouldn’t work out.

not that you and bakugou wouldn’t have worked out. the two of you were a perfect couple!

what hurts the most was that it was a wish, and in every near universe, you still didn’t have that ring.

uravity and dynamight simply looked...happier.

you stormed out, shaking. why was your katsuki kissing her? holding her when it should have been you?

deep down, you knew you had no right. you and bakugou were barely a couple. throughout his years at yuuei, he’d calmed down immensely. so much that he could strike up a conversation with nearly everyone. as it turns out, introverted katsuki bakugou was a shameless flirt.

the two of you exchanged flitting glances from time to time, but it was never anything serious. at least to him, it wasn’t.

you knew he’d never taken the flirting seriously, and you also knew about his aching feelings for uraraka. how he covered his mouth whenever she walked by. how his voice raised just a bit, and how soft his eyes got.

you shouldn’t have been surprised. he never even hinted that he might have had romantic feelings for you.

the entire room erupted with applause as he kissed her. the katsuki bakugou, kissing someone? pfft, only in dreams.

for some, the dream would be good. like uraraka, who had shamelessly kissed him back.

for you, it was a complete nightmare.

the blaring music, the lights, the balloons, the ‘happy graduation class of 1-A!’

you drowned it all out. you curled your knees to your chest. you had no right to be hurt. not at all. they were his emotions. you had no control over them.

loneliness clouded over you. your chest screamed with longing. a longing to be held. be wanted by him.

you were alone. nobody was coming to comfort you. nobody was-

the door opened, clicking shut just as quickly. someone sniffled.

your eyes flicked up from your knees.

“y/n? i...i’m sorry, i had no idea anyone was out here...i can leave...”

“it’s alright, izuku.”

izuku took a swig from a bottle containing something much heavier than champagne.

that same tug in your chest came about. you were tired of seeing the billboards, the magazines. tired of seeing the unquestionably perfect relationship, perfect love bloom right before you.

dynamight and uravity this! dynamight and uravity that!

the music was loud enough, the lights were busy enough, and the people were ignorant enough to neglect your crying figure.

this was supposed to be my party. he loved me first.

“you okay?” you asked, swiping your nose.

izuku looked back at the graduation party. “no, y/n. i’m not.”

“then we’re both absolute shit.” you let him help you up. “why’re you crying?”

“just...just uraraka.”

“for me it’s just bakugou.”

just as bakugou had calmed down during his years at yuuei, izuku had earned a sense of sarcasm. “are they just oblivious or stupid?”

“goodness, izuku,” you joked, pressing a hand to your shuddering chest. “calling uraraka stupid?”

he gave you a sad side-smile. you listened in silence as the upbeat music played on.

“i guess we’re the stupid ones.” he sighed, chest heaving a little.

“i guess,” you agreed. he pulled you into a hug, and you let the tears flow. your sobs corrupted your chest as you curled into his arms. “why? why did it have to be her?”

“not all heroes end up happy, y/n.”

you looked up at him, eyes puffy, sniffling. “why can’t we be part of that small portion of heroes who are?”

izuku looked up, trying to neglect the water pooling in his own eyes. “i guess...well, not to be a narcissist—” he let out a breathy chuckle, “―but if you noticed, all the greatest heroes die with some kind of regret.”

“maybe i don’t want to be a good hero.” you ignored his efforts to lighten the mood.

“heroes don’t always get to choose whether they’ll be good or not. some things just happen.”

“i’m sorry, izuku.” you swiped at your eyes. “you’re hurt just as badly as me. i don’t want to make it—”

“hey.” izuku gently pried your hands away from your face, fingers ghosting over your wrists. his emerald eyes gleamed as they stared into yours. “don’t invalidate your feelings just because of me. we’re both hurting, but that doesn’t mean i won’t listen to you.”

your sobs came back again, and you fell into his chest.

bakugou spun uraraka, laughing gently as she twirled in his arms. his eyes lit up whenever he saw her. they twinkled. he sparkled. his smile was dazzling. and he was everything you never had.

you were a heartbroken mess, even after all these years. there was a list of all the reasons you were mad at him, and yourself.

your sobs were almost uncontrollable, and at this point, you were shocked nobody came to check on you. not that you cared very much. even if you were making a small effort to hide your face, it still would have been nice to feel a touch on your shoulder, someone perhaps shaking you gently to make sure you were awake.

not that you’d tell them what was wrong. you just wanted to know somebody cared, and to have the option to talk to somebody if you needed to do so.

but here you were. cheesy, upbeat fifties music echoed along the walls of the room. bakugou had secretly adored artists from back then, and you’d often catch him dancing and singing along to long-forgotten oldies.

if you weren’t his best friend, you would have blown off coming here and binge-watched ‘my best friend’s wedding’ and sobbed.

your head was down, forehead leaning on the backs of your forearms stacked upon each other. tears were streaming down, your shoulders shuddering with each weak breath sucked in and released.

until bakugou chose you, you had no reason to smile. at least not now. by no means were you desperate. love sometimes did that to people. made them look needy, look unwanted.

you’ve had plenty of options in the past, but the one person who you wanted didn’t want you back. didn’t even care.

since the graduation party, uraraka and you had been a bit tense. a part of her felt like she knew how you felt, and how bakugou mattered to you more than anyone in the world.

after the first year, she began abandoning izuku and ignoring his emotions towards her. after she and bakugou found each other, they had already known they would settle with one another.

you and izuku had never been close, but you were both good friends and were there when you needed one another.

he had walked you through your pain of senior year, and you’d helped him reach a lot of his goals, too. but bakugou just didn’t seem to care anymore. not even about becoming the number one hero. he looked at uraraka like she was his goal, his new dream, the reason he was happy. he looked at her and saw that he had the world in his hands and wanted to keep it that way.

you? you were pluto. exiled from the rest of the planets. exiled from the rest of his options, when you used to be his first.

“y/n?”

you and izuku backed away from each other. you’d both been crying for quite a bit. how long it had been, you were both unsure.

uraraka now stood at the door. you peeked into the window, leaning back a bit and catching glances of the blonde, who was currently being clapped on the back by his friends, congratulated for ‘getting the girl’.

“are you guys okay?’ uraraka asked.

“would you cry, uraraka?”

she tilted her head. “what?”

you pushed yourself off of izuku. “do you think you’d cry if you saw me kissing him, too?”

“what’re you―”

“you would cry, too! you would be sobbing!” you stabbed an accusatory finger at her. “you were my friend! you knew how i felt, and you’re kissing him?”

uraraka’s eyes widened. “i...i’m sorry. it all just happened, and i—”

“shut the hell up, uraraka. you ruined this party. for me and izuku.”

perhaps you went a bit far, but in your heart and your mind, you knew she deserved it. she knew. uraraka had known.

izuku gave uraraka a sympathetic look before pressing a hand to your back and leading you away.

it still came as a bit of a shock that uraraka had let bakugou invite you to their wedding. gosh. little, domestic bakugou, sealing invitations and batting his eyes at his oh-so-sweet wife so he could invite his best friend.

little domestic uraraka sweetly kissing her fiance on the cheek and pouting as she said, “how can i say no?”

it was disgusting, and everything you wanted to have with him.

you allowed yourself to be selfish this one time. after all, you deserved it. you’d endured hours of bakugou blabbering on about how sweet uraraka was. everything you weren’t.

you took the bottle to champagne. your ankles were aching as you stumbled out of the room. your vision blurred, becoming foggy with tears. not one person stopped you. you guessed because nobody noticed.

like graduation night, you slumped down right outside the doors to the party, the music, lights, and laughter muffled. the only difference was that you had a bottle of champagne and the man of your dreams was gone. for good, this time.

“i wish she noticed me. it was like, after first year, the uraraka i knew just vanished.”

you nodded. you and midoriya were wandering the streets, cool air brushing down your neck and on your face as cars passed.

“uraraka was so sweet, but she lost feelings so fast and...ugh.” midoriya ran a hand through his hair, ruffling his curls. “i’m still a bit...baffled. i know people change, but she and kacchan both switched up so fast.”

“i don’t want to say they’re jackasses, but they’re kind of jackasses.��

izuku rubbed your shoulder as you leaned on him while the two of you walked. “don’t say that.”

“sorry,” you breathed.

“no more being sorry. being sorry all the time leads to shit like this.”

you chuckled. “yeah, it does.” you sniffed. “did i take you away from the party? you can go back if you want.”

he shrugged. “’s all right. i don’t mind.”

“do you want to be here or would you rather be in there?”

“out here with you. i can’t be there right now.”

“me too.”

“let me guess.”

you looked up and scoffed softly.

“this was supposed to be your party?”

you nodded. “my party, my groom. i’m not supposed to be crying at my party, am i?”

your friend shook his head. “not at all. cheer up, y/n.”

izuku slid down the wall, sitting beside you. he rested his arms on his knees, twisting open his own bottle of champagne. “you look like a mess.”

“and you look like you need anger management.” you smiled.

he grinned back. “do i now?”

“yeah, you do. you should have seen yourself sitting there. all alone, the one person drinking something that wasn’t the fifty-thousand yen drinks.”

“54,795.75 yen, to be exact.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you’re insane. you kidding me? why do you know that?”

“i was the weird kid who took notes on everyone in the class. of course i would know this. i’m offended you think i wouldn’t.”

you tilted your head back in laughter. “gosh, izuku.”

“mhm.”

there was a pause. comfortable silence filled the space, broken by you sigh after gulping down your drink. “so they’re gone?”

“i’d rather not dwell on it.”

“how old are we now?”

izuku gave a breathy chuckle. “twenty-five.”

you smiled. “really, now? and i thought i would be married by now.”

“me too. ‘s a shame.”

“how about, if we’re both still not married by the time we’re forty, we get married to each other, adopt three children and we become hot parents.”

“three?”

“yeah, we can have a mini hero agency.”

“that’s horrifying. but i agree. having a mini hero agency would be pretty amazing.”

“i’m glad you agree with me, izuku.” you brushed a curl from his eyes.

“can’t wait until i’m forty,” he smirked.

“me neither.”

“maybe by then we would have forgotten all of this?”

“we’ll be fighting a villain, and we get our memories erased, and then we fall in love because we wake up beside each other in the hospital. we’re both equally confused.” you peppered him with jokes. “it’s a journey we will go on together.”

“can’t wait until my memory gets erased.”

“do you wanna get out of here?”

izuku shook his head. “it’s their wedding. we can’t. we shouldn’t.”

you gave him a silly look.

“you’re always such trouble, y/n.”

“if you hate it, then wipe that stupid grin off your face.”

izuku’s features softened. “maybe i like it. but only sometimes.” he took your head and lead you out, leaving his drink behind while you took yours.

a single tear rolled down your cheek. he didn’t erase all your pain, nor your feelings for bakugou. it wasn’t what you needed, no.

you just needed a friend. a real one. one that wouldn’t steal your dream from you. and that’s what you knew you had right now.

besides, things could happen in the future, right?

you smiled, and let the cold air touch your skin.

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danniburgh · 3 years

Text

Boca del Diablo (Javier Peña x f!reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: I was wrong but I was doing it right; and we would steal each other’s grief, we were thin but we were thick as thieves; you gotta hold me down, ‘cause I might slip away, slip into the past.

Word count: +5.7k

Warnings: ANGST, you guys this is AWFULLY SAD, so, beware. mentions of alcohol and drinking.

A/N: oh god, okay; this is technically a ficsong, based and inspired by Mouth of the Devil by Mother Mother. also, the first time i heard that song i knew it was SO made for Javier Peña, i couldn’t just not write something based on it... I JUST COULDNT. im not sorry. also also i wanna thank my forbidden kitties @ezrasbirdie and @starlightmornings for proofreading and telling me it makes sense, love you so much guys. Jesus Christ Superstar i really should stop hurting javi huh.

Masterlist // Read on ao3 // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

gif: @javierpcna

The first thing Javier did when he arrived to Laredo was tour his house around; he walked around the living room, looking at all the pictures his dad had hung onto the walks, he took his time to admire all the faces and the expressions and the situations; he took the time to reminisce about moments of his life he hadn’t given himself the time before to reminisce. He walked the narrow hallways of the house he grew up in.

It was like meeting the house again, even if after leaving he had visited, even if he knew exactly what was in what corner, even if he still remembered that stash of cigarettes he had hidden under a wooden panel in the floor when he was seventeen; he was familiarizing himself again with it; like the prodigal son coming back to a place he had forgotten because he need to forget it.

He discovered that day, after not living in that place for over thirteen years, that it was timeless.

It was as if the house itself was a spot in time that hadn’t moved; as if the place it was built on was rooted down so far into the ground that not even distance or time changed it.

The second thing Javier did when he arrived to Laredo was sleep.

He told Chucho he wouldn’t eat the dinner he had made and that he preferred to eat it for lunch the next day and just shut himself into his old room and slept for twelve hours.

When Javier woke up, he didn’t feel rested, but his mind had stopped reeling from all those excruciatingly exhaustive thoughts he had been carrying with him since he packed up the close to ten years he spent in Colombia into three suitcases and spent three hours inside a plane and two hours driving down from the airport.

In the twelve hours he slept, he didn’t dream at all, and for he was grateful to be so tired that his brain just had shut down for half a day; he didn’t need the constant reminders of what his life decisions had turned into. He didn’t need to dream about the pain he saw, tamed, and caused.

Javier didn’t want to go out of the house at all; because he knew there would be people that asked him about his doings like he was some kind of hero; they would ask him details about the things he did in what they called South America, details he wasn’t ready to even remember, as he wasn’t even ready to correct them; that it wasn’t South America, that it was just Colombia. As if he didn’t want to ruin their perceptions of him; when in reality he didn’t even want to be perceived.

The first time Javier went out of the house he drove to a convenience store that was there since before he was born; another proof that everything in that town he so wanted to get out of and leave behind him as a kid was timeless and immovable.

That time he forgo the cigarettes, as he was decided to try to quit smoking once again; and as he was walking out of the store with a plastic bag full of crap he shouldn’t eat and stuff he didn’t really need, across the street he saw you.

Javier just stood there, like a newly put statue, he watched you hop into a truck he was sure wasn’t yours or your dad’s and as the truck drove away with you in your pretty short sundress inside, he knew, once again, that he was completely and utterly screwed.

He had frozen in place because in that time, in the two minutes it took you to leave, the only thing that invaded his mind was what he did to you.

The second time Javier went out of the house, he had decided to visit some of his old friends that still lived in Laredo; the ones that, unlike him, had stayed there for reasons he, at the short age of twenty, didn’t really understand, but years later, at what he considered the middle of his life, comprehended at last.

None of them asked about Colombia; and, while he was grateful, he was sure it was because one of them told the others not to.

It was as if the subject of him working there had become a taboo; something that they spoke about and debated amongst themselves when he wasn’t there, and he preferred it that way.

Javier was enjoying the time he spent remembering stuff that hadn’t gotten people killed; he liked the feeling of nostalgia that sharing old stories and old experiences with friends made him heel; until someone mentioned you.

He learned then that what had gone down between you and him had also become a taboo; something only his and your generations and the parents of your mutual friends knew about but never said a thing, something that, as in most small towns happened, was a topic that someone brought up when they saw you walk by, or Lorraine, or his dad.

He had even escaped being the prompter of his own fall out being discussed by people on the narrow streets of downtown Laredo.

Javier also learned then that you were a month away from getting married.

The first emotion Javier felt when he heard the words “she's getting married on the fifteenth” was rage; not at you or at your husband to be, but at himself. Because he knew that if he had played his cards right, he would be the one you were sharing your life with.

The second emotion Javier felt was a profound, almost abysmal regret. Because if he had stayed put for thirty-six months he would've been the one you would’ve married. Because if he had stopped his unhealthy, obsessive desire to leave everything he knew and looked at you with all the love he felt for you, he wouldn’t have done what he did. But it was way too late to realize it.

The third emotion Javier felt was sadness. Because even when he had made sense of what he did and convinced himself he was doing the right thing, even when he was doing it wrong, the outcome had been the opposite of what he wanted.

He ruined his life trying to get a better one.

Javier had one too many beers that night and excused himself from the reunion; as he drove away he pulled over because there was an overwhelming question dragging itself from his brain to his chest and settled there like a rusty nail perforating his skin: when was the last time he had thought about you?

There was a difference that he noticed there; as he sat inside his truck in the middle of the country road with the crickets replying to the others and a few car noises at the distance; one thing was wondering about what was of you, asking himself in the little idle times he had in his job if you were doing fine, if you were mad at him, if you were happy, and another, polarizing, totally opposite thing was thinking about you and the years you spent together.

He avoided it.

Thinking about you consoling him with your body when words weren't enough, you understanding him to the deep ends of his persona, you, knowing him exactly as he was, as young as he was, complete as he wasn’t. You meeting him in vulnerability, in nudity, in cynicism, even meeting him in drinking and getting drunk with him every other weekend just to laugh about nothing and fuck like bunnies.

You and the perfect aura and the immaculate energy you exude at all times and that when he was inside you, he felt you share with him.

He avoided it because he knew that he didn’t deserve to get any of it back; but Jesus how much he wanted it.

So Javier decided, inside his semi-alcoholized head, that he had to do what he didn’t do when he had the chance.

He turned the truck back on and gave an U turn that he knew would get him fined if someone had seen him and drove back to where he came from.

He drove by muscle memory. Even after sixteen years he still knew the way and could drive with his eyes closed if he felt brave enough.

But he wasn’t feeling brave or encouraged or self assured; everything he was feeling as he drove was a heavy, disorienting need to fix what he broke.

Or try to.

He got into the driveway and started honking like a crazy man inside the afternoon traffic of the city; someone had to come out at some point.

And you did.

Javier couldn’t identify the emotions he felt when he saw you opening the door of your house or what he felt when he noticed your expression as you recognized the truck and him inside it. He couldn’t name the exact feeling of his chest tugging when you stood there, on your porch, dead on your feet, a hand covering your mouth when he got out of the truck.

He saw you see him; your face paled as he walked up to you, your eyes widened open, he felt like an apparition and guessed he was; nothing but an unwanted sight of a past he was sure you wanted to forget.

He noticed the simple and complex emotions your eyes poured out as he tried to say hi to you with a hand wave.

And even then, half drunk, standing on your porch after who knows how many years, he knew it was something that was supposed to happen.

“What… what are you doing here?” was the first question you asked him, Javier didn’t even have a response to it.

“If I say the truth you wouldn’t want to listen to me.” he said. He saw you shaking your head slightly and looked at you with clinical eyes.

It was as if the time hadn’t passed through you; you were still as beautiful as he remembered you. As terrifyingly gorgeous as the first time he saw you when he crashed your nineteenth party with his friends from college; as inexplicably stunning as a twenty-two year old guy could make sense of.

“What do you want?” was the second question you asked him, and Javier wanted so many things he didn’t know which one to say first.

He looked at you with that expression you had on your face the first and the last time you said goodbye to each other.

“Can we talk?” he replied, you looked at him and bit your lower lip and Javier had to close his eyes because he wanted to do that himself.

“Sure.” you muttered, Javier nodded a few times as he opened his eyes and you had crossed your arms tight on your chest.

“Can we go somewhere else?” he asked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his jeans.

You stood quiet again as he guessed you were pondering your reply, and he felt like he was asking you to go out with him two weeks after your birthday party.

“Where?” was the third question you asked him “I’m kinda busy.”

“Just for a drive, please.” Javier heard himself begging, but didn’t really care for it.

“I–I don’t th–”

“Please,” he cut you off, “I just… fuck, I just need to talk to you.” he sighed out.

Javier couldn’t stand the look you were giving him, he couldn’t bear the feeling that your eyes on him were giving him because he had a specific memory of you looking at him with a shine in your eyes he didn’t see anymore as you stood in front of him and he was hating it.

“Okay,” you murmured, “let me go get my bag.”

He nodded, and you turned around and walked back inside. You didn’t close the front door and from where he was standing, he could see some parts of the house and some chat inside he couldn’t make out.

He wasn’t half drunk anymore; the weight of the emotions he was feeling were enough to sober him up. But he knew, as he stood there waiting for you, with the most pressing feeling he had felt in decades, hitching his breath and cutting his flow of air, that it was most probably that he wouldn’t get what he wanted. And that was scraping at the well-manicured mask he had built for himself.

You walked out of the house with your bag hanging from your shoulder and gave him a brief glance as you walked to his truck. He let out a heavy sigh and jogged a bit to catch up.

Javier didn’t know where he was driving to. He just didn’t think you would say yes, so he didn’t bother to think of a place to take you; he knew you’d appreciate going somewhere without many people. As you were less than a month away from your wedding and Laredo was a place where if the wrong person saw you walking around with your ex, bad shit could happen.

The truck’s engine roaring was the only thing that made any noise. You were sitting on the opposite side of the seat, all but glued to the window, avoiding to look at him; he understood it; he didn’t even know why you had said yes in the first time.

Javier was still thinking of a place to stop the truck, and as you stirred on the seat, he saw a familiar deviation with an old, tattered, fainted wooden sign on the edge pointing to the right that read Boca del Diablo, leading to a narrow dirt path surrounded by semi-overgrown wild plants.

He turned there and saw you stiffen on your side of the seat out of the corner of his eyes; he wanted to ask you if you remembered the place but instead you glared at him.

“What are we doing here, Javier?” you asked. He wouldn’t admit even to himself that he felt his stomach turn around itself when he heard his name being pronounced by you.

“You remember this place?” he asked anyway as he drove to where the dirt path became a wide opening that led to the edge of a cliff.

“What is it to remember?” you muttered in response, Javier pulled over and turned to you.

“Well, this was our place.” he shrugged slightly and turned off the ignition.

“No, this wasn’t our place,” you murmured, looking back at him, “it was a place where every single couple in Laredo came to make out.”

Javier huffed and nodded a couple of times, he noticed the way you were looking at him and, even in the darkness of the open country and the inside of the truck, he could see the way your brow was furrowing slightly, he wished to know what you were thinking.

“We made it ours.” he whispered back.

“Javier,” you sighed out, he knew you were getting exasperated “fucking in the back of your truck hardly was making a place ours.”

Your words made something inside him sting. He wondered if his actions had made you shift the meaning of your memories; he wouldn’t find it hard to believe.

“Why are you here?” you asked him, Javier was looking for your eyes but he found them outside, on the walnut tree you and him used as shade when you came there before the sunset.

“It made sense,” he replied. You scoffed and turned to face him, Javier saw your eyes water in front of him and took a deep breath “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Right.” Javier saw you take a deep breath and swallow your tears. He wanted to hug you but instead gripped the steering wheel with a hand.

“You’re getting married.” he said, not as a question, but matter-of-factly.

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask why?” you bit your lip with a smirk on your face and Javier felt his chest compress.

“You really wanna know?” your voice was low and soft but it weighed on him like an anvil. He nodded. “I finally found someone brave enough to stay.” you replied with a shrug.

“I stayed.” Javier let out before he could stop himself and you glared at him with a frown.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his lids with the heel of his hand; he knew he was bad with the kind of conversations he wanted to have with you, and he knew you knew as well. But he still wanted to ask you so many things he didn’t even know he was curious about.

He knew exactly the moment he had fucked his and your lives, but he hadn’t stayed to look at the aftermath.

“You stayed,” you retorted “but you didn’t wait.”

“I know.”

“Why?” you asked him, now chasing for his eyes, Javier shook his head a couple of times and you shifted on the seat so you could face him with your body as well “why you didn’t wait?” you asked in a whisper.

“I don’t know.” he replied in a low voice and frowned when your reaction was to laugh.

As you looked around the truck’s cabin with that cynic smile of yours adorning your face, Javier saw a single tear rolling through your cheek that you didn’t bother to wipe off.

“You don’t know?” you let out a sob that sounded like a laugh, “you don't know why you threw away seven years of our lives?” he shook his head, and you opened your mouth in feigned amusement “seven years, Javier, unbelievable.”

“I tried to figure it out but I just couldn’t,” he murmured at you when you threw your head back and sniffed “it made sense at the time.”

“That’s bullshit.” you shrugged.

“It is.”

“I…” Javier started, he tried to find the correct words to phrase what he wanted to say “I know that what I did wasn’t good or an–”

“Wasn’t good?” you cut him off “that’s not really how I would phrase it, Javier.”

“I know, I’m trying, okay?”

“It doesn’t look like it,” you whispered again and rolled your eyes at the tears Javier could see flooding your eyes “you didn’t wait for me, you didn’t even try!”

“I did! I swear I did, but I wa–”

“Everyone knew us, Javier,” you cut him off again and he sighed “everybody in town thought that we would be that couple that stayed together forever,” you snarled as two thick tears made their way from your eyes to your cheeks and he had to refrain himself from leaning and brush them off “I thought that too.”

“Please,” he sighed. You shook your head slowly.

“And now, after what? twenty years? you com–”

“Sixteen.” he interrupted.

“What?”

“After sixteen years, it’s been sixteen years.” he muttered.

“Right, sixteen,” you huffed again and licked your lips. Javier remembered that little gesture as a sign of nervousness when you were barely an adult, “after all that time, you come back to break into my life,” you raised your hands in question, Javier chewed the inside of his cheek “for what? why?”

“Today Matt told me you were getting married,” he said, you rolled your eyes at him and Javier shifted slightly closer to you on the seat “I just knew I needed to see you first,” he saw you see through him and he felt once again like an apparition “I just realized I never stopped thinking about you.”

“Stop it,” you raised a finger to him, Javier stiffened up “don’t do that,” you shook your head at him “because when you should’ve thought about me, and about us, you didn’t,” Javier nodded his chin a few times “you don’t get to do that to me,” you sniffed and he closed his eyes when your voice started shaking “not after everything, not after you promised me you’d wait and then finding someone else.”

“I didn’t find her,” Javier opened his eyes as he said it, you rolled your eyes at him again, “I wasn’t even looking for someone else.”

“You’re lying,” you shook your head again, Javier mirrored the action, “don’t lie to me, that’s the only thing I’m asking, don’t lie.”

“You know I don’t like lying, I’m not.” he whispered, you let out a sob.

“Then what the fuck happened? huh?” you shifted closer “I asked for one thing, I asked you to wait, you knew I left town to do what I wanted, what happened that made you run to Lorraine?”

Javier moved closer to you and threw every sense of courtesy and respect out of the window; he grabbed you by the shoulders and pressed you against him. You didn’t try to fight him and he took it as a good sign, but you didn’t hug him back.

Your head rested on his collarbone and he could smell the softness of your shampoo, and wondered in the back of your head if you used the same strawberry conditioner he liked so much.

“Y’know,” you said, shifting your head so you could breathe “Lorraine and I talked when I came back,” Javier hummed in surprise but felt his body shiver at the thought of you and Lorraine sharing the only thing you two had in common with each other; him, “we tried to make sense of what happened but never actually could… what happened?”

“I wish I knew.” he whispered against your hair and felt you shiver, you buried your face in his chest.

“It’s not fair that you don’t know,” you muttered out, your voice being muffled by his shirt and his skin and him and he gripped you tighter “it’s not fair because I’ve been asking myself that question all this time.”

“I tried to make sense out of it,” he broke the brief silence that formed around you, his words like a knife that was sharp enough to mull but not cut, “I thought I was doing the right thing, even if I was doing it wrong.”

You separated from him suddenly and he immediately missed the warmth of your body on him; it was as if he had never stopped holding you.

“Help me understand this,” you murmured, “I left town to do something you knew I wanted to do for so long,” you recounted in a low, deep voice, Javier nodded, “I left with the promise that you would wait here, that it was my turn of doing something I wanted and that you would be here waiting for me, it was only three years, you told me you’d wait,” he nodded his head again, trying to shove away the need of breaking down as you did “but as soon as I crossed the state line you ran to Lorraine,” you said, Javier opened his mouth but you raised your hand to him before he could pronounce a word; he hated that your version was like that, he hated it, “you started dating her saying nothing to me, and I had to find out, because my dad saw you kissing her inside this same truck,” Javier saw you close your eyes in pain as another pair of charged tears fell from them “and he called me to tell me to never come back, and you’re telling me it was the right thing?” you shook your head and Javier felt his throat close at the sight of your face quirked in pain from an old wound he just reopened “what was I to you tha–”

“Everything,” he cut you off, you sighed “you were everything to me,” he cleared his throat and begged his brain for some reason and sense so he could explain to you and give you what he thought you needed to know “and you didn’t deserve me making you responsible for my own well being.”

He saw you frown as you wiped away the tears you had shed.

“That doesn’t make sense, Javier.”

“Think about it, miel,” he tried to explain, barely noticing he had slipped the old nickname he had given you when the first time he kissed you and whispered that your lips were as sweet as honey, he brushed it off and looked at you and your unsure eyes and your bouncy leg and he was regretting everything he had done in his life up to that point until he saw you tilt your head, asking him silently to continue “we were young and stupid and we were both vulnerable,” he reminisced and you nodded ever so slightly “when we met we had lost a lot and I instantly became dependent on you and you know it,” you nodded again, another tear rolling out, he raised his hand and brushed it off, his hand stayed on your cheek, cupping your face, “the only reason I was living and breathing for was you and I knew you didn’t deserve to be the reason I was alive,” he leaned closer “you didn’t deserve to be anything else than my girlfriend.”

You let out a soft sob and looked at him with dovey, dampened eyes, his own were watering as well.

“I’ve always regretted the way I dealt with things, and I’ve always wondered what would be of us if I talked to you instead.” he whispered and then you leaned to rest your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his middle.

Javier almost cradled you. He wrapped his arms around you too as you tried to drown your sobs and he felt the cold sting of a tear making its way out of his eye.

“You ran away.” you whispered, he nodded.

“I did,” he agreed and barely heard you asking why “everything fell on me out of the blue,” he shrugged with you still resting on his shoulder and his hand started gently rubbing your back “Lorraine almost forced me to propose, your dad was so mad at me he stopped doing business with my dad,” he explained, you hummed in affirmation “so my dad was mad at me too,” he scoffed, “and I couldn’t face you,” he whispered, gripping you tighter to him “I knew that you would throw everything on my face and I wouldn’t recover from that, so I just left everything behind.”

“What a fucking coward.” you whispered, Javier huffed a soft laugh.

“Yeah.” he blinked a few times. You sighed and Javier felt the warm breath that came out of your mouth clashing with his skin, making him think about all the times he had you between his arms inside that same truck in different circumstances. He yearned for those times to come back, he wished for a second chance he knew he wouldn’t get as soon as you pronounced:

“I’m supposed to be making the seating chart.”

Javier’s breath hitched when he heard it, and he scoffed at himself because in the back of his mind, deep inside himself, he held a glimpse of hope that maybe if you talked to each other, things would change. But it was a childish thought and of course… You weren’t ruining your own life again.

“You’re still getting married?” he asked.

Javier felt you undo the grip you had around him and you pushed yourself away from him.

“Don’t do this.” you shook your head. Javier saw you shift further away from him; you opened the door and jumped out of the truck and into the empty space that was the viewpoint of Boca del Diablo, he did the same; opened the door and got out of the truck to the cold air of the night and jogged around the truck to stand next to you as you threw your head back and looked at the dark, star-filled sky.

His logical side was screaming at him to stop, he knew he wasn’t being fair to you; he knew perfectly that you wouldn’t say yes; but he wanted to try so hard, he wanted to do whatever it was in his power to have you again.

He saw you there, standing in the middle of a darkish, barely moonlight illuminated, dry dirt viewpoint at the edge of a cliff he had taken you so many times when you were together, and all the feelings he had made sure to shove and hide deep inside himself came bubbling up. He never stopped loving you, and he had lost you once already, he didn’t want to lose you again even if he didn’t have you anymore.

“Miel,” he started next to you, he heard you let out a soft no “miel, is he good to you?” he asked.

You turned to see him and Javier saw the confusion in your face, he stepped closer and reached for your hand.

“As good as he can be.” you whispered in reply.

“What if…” he gripped your hand, you shook your head slowly “what if I told yo–”

“No.” you said before he could finish, Javier tugged you closer to him.

“Come with me.” he let out, softly, almost imperceptible even to his own ear.

“No.” you whined out after a sob.

“Please.” he heard himself beg again.

“Don’t, Javier please don’t do this.” you cried out again. He looked at you, the moonlight making your eyes shine with all the previously shed and yet to slide out tears.

“Miel,” he said, it was like his own judgement was blinded by the feelings he had been neglecting to process over the last sixteen years of his life; he knew he was talking but he wasn’t thinking about his own words, “I promise there was neve–”

“Javier, don’t.” you whispered, thick tears rolling out of your eyes that he brushed with his free hand.

“There was never anyone that could love me like you did…” he let out, you shook your head and he cupped your face.

“Stop it.” your voice was so thin he could barely hear it.

“...and I tried, miel, god knows I tried to find someone like you…” you opened your eyes to him and looked at him deeply.

“Please, stop.” you whispered again.

“...I was with so many women…” he whispered and leaned into you, you sighed and Javier could feel the warmth of your breath against his mouth “...so many of them and I couldn’t feel anything…” he felt another tear escaping from his eye and you reached to him, you didn’t brush it but your touch made his skin burn “...not one of them made me feel what you did, miel…” he pressed his forehead against yours “not a single one.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you whispered out, Javier tried to calm his racing heart as he fought himself from kissing you.

“Because no one was enough, miel, no one was you.” his voice was soft and he sighed slightly, you closed your eyes as a sob died inside your chest. Javier brushed his thumb on the skin of your cheek and you, out of the sudden, closed the distance with him.

Javier hummed in surprise but his lips acted by themselves. You tasted the same as the first and last time he had kissed you; sweet as honey.

You ate his lips gently, still whimpering and still crying, you brushed your tongue with this lower lip and he opened his mouth to let you in; he was willing to give you everything you wanted. He wanted to give you everything you asked for.

With the same sharpness you started the kiss you finished it.

Javier wanted to chase your mouth and keep kissing you until his lips went numb but you stepped back from him and shook your head as you licked your lower lip; he sighed once again with the wet flesh of his lip still tingling.

“You know that I can’t, right?” you asked, holding back his hand, he stood there, watching you look at him, “you know I won't risk my entire life just because the man I’ve been loving for twenty years came back, right?”

Javier dropped his gaze to the door and attempted to say that he knew; that he understood, that he wished you to be happy and that he only wanted to try because he loved you. He wanted to say that he was happy to know you still loved him after all those years and that he knew you had the right to decide what to do with your life. But he could only nod.

“I grew out of my pain, Javi,” you whispered, gripping his hand, he lifted his head to look at you, you were giving him a smile he thought he would never see again; small, soft, yours, “it doesn't hurt me anymore; you did what you did for yourself and I understood,” he nodded again, “now I’m doing what i need to do for myself.”

“Does he make you happy?” he asked in a mumble, you scoffed at him.

“Mostly.” you replied, Javier tugged you against him again and held you inside his arms.

“Good.” he whispered, burying his head inside the crook of your neck, he felt your hands roaming gently up and down his back and he wished you could touch him like that for the rest of his life.

“I’m gonna get married, Javier,” you said, he shook his head, “yeah, and I’m gonna move to San Antonio, too.”

“No.” he let out, his voice small, he felt you shake.

“Yes,” you sniffed, he held you tighter “and I’m gonna try to be happy,” you said before a sob came out of you, Javier felt your heartbeat against his nose and wished to feel it for the rest of his life, “even when I know I’m gonna forever feel sad that you’re not the one I wake up next to every morning.” you whispered.

“We can still do that.” he mumbled against your skin, he felt you shaking your head and he held you closer to him.

“I’m not gonna do that to him,” you replied, Javier sighed “because I love him too, he doesn’t deserve that.”

Javier lifted himself from where he was hidden in your body and looked at you; he slid his hands from your waist to your arms and your face and cupped it with both hands.

“What about you and me?” he let out; he heard himself and hated how broken his voice was. He felt the way your breath hitched as he finished asking and he saw you close your eyes.

“We don’t deserve each other anymore, Javi.”

let me know if you wanna be removed :)

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#javier peña #Javier Pena #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #narcos #narcos netflix #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal #pedro pascal characters

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littlebabyboybarzal · 3 years

Text

>> And Then Life Was Beautiful-Ch. 1

Fic rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 1.612

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex work

A/n: I do not claim to know him or any of his kinks, I just use him as a face claim. MINORS DNI. No one is permitted to copy/redistribute my work onto any other blog or website. Other than that, please reblog and comment!

Banner courtesy of @firefly-graphics

I can’t believe I’m doing this, Sidney thinks to himself as he scrolls through one of the many sugar daddy sites Kris gave him. Am I really that desperate for intimacy? Many of the girls are pretty, all of different races and backgrounds and most young. He can’t help but feel sleazy, like a creepy old guy trying to revitalize himself by proxy of these young girls youth.

“Not be that guy but when are you ever gonna get married?” Kris asks him as they wait in the car for his son’s, Alex, school to finish. Sid loves to tag along to see all the little ones race out of school and run to their parents who await them with open arms. He desperately wants that hot himself but he feels like the window of opportunity is closing.

“When I meet the right girl,” Sid says with a shrug. He shifts in his seat, the leather suddenly very uncomfortable and the car borderline claustrophobic. Sid has been hearing this question since he turned thirty, maybe even before I then. At first, it never bothered him. He chalked it up to people being nosy, wanting everyone to follow an imaginary social clock. By twenty-five have a job and be self sufficient, thirty be married and maybe have a kid. Yadda, yadda, yadda. He thought he had someone, through those dark times with his concussion but waiting around for him to get better was too much for her and the fact that he never popped the question after didn’t help matters.

~flashback~

“When the right girl comes along,” kris repeats with an incredulous huff. “Are you even trying to look for a partner?”

“I am!”

“Okay how? And don’t say at bars because that’s pathetic.” Sid closes his mouth before he can even get a word out. Fuck Kris for knowing him so well.

“Okay so maybe I’m out of practice. I don’t even know if I want a relationship right now. I just know I’d like to not come home to an empty house every game. Maybe have someone to talk to and be with who isn’t the team,” Sid says softly. Kris looks at his friend with sympathetic eyes.

“I understand. Maybe I can help.” Sid looks at Kris and sees the mischief on his face.

“Oh no, whatever you have planned I already don’t like it.”

“Oh come on! You haven’t even heard what it is!” Sid doesn’t hear the idea until after Alex is picked up and the two men talk over the phone later that night.

“A sugar baby?! That’s your great idea?!” Sid is appalled at the idea. Paying some girl to essentially be his not girlfriend? Insane. Absolutely insane. Sure, he knows guys in the league have done it and some have resulted in marriage but that’s such a small sample.

“Hey don’t knock it to you try it! Plus, you’re desperate enough,” Tanger snickers. Sid shoots him daggers at the phone even though he knows Kris can’t see him.

“I am not desperate.”

“Im just messing with you man, lighten up. Just give it a try, you never know. I’ll send you some sites for you to look at.” Sidney can’t help but think that Kris has been on these sites before.

“Have you been a-a sugar daddy?” Sid asks and cringes at his voice even saying the title. When did his life get so weird?

“It’s not a dirty word Sid and yeah. Before I met Catherine and I was enjoying my new found fortune. It was fun but not for me I guess.” Sid’s phone dings in his ear and he looks at it to see a text from Kris with links to to the websites.

With an annoyed sigh he tells Tanger he’ll talk to him later and hangs up.

Rianne Thomas is twenty-four and on her third potential sugar daddy date this week. What is wrong with men? They all think that she needs to be at their beck and call, given a small allowance on top of apparently fucking them. What these fake sugar daddies want is a prostitute and not that there is anything wrong with that, that isn’t what Rianne does and it isn’t what she wants to do.

The new guy, some real estate investor named Robert is talking her ear off about shit she doesn’t care about and how his wife is so awful, blah blah blah. Rianne bats her eyes and nods when appropriate, laughs at his not funny jokes and tries not to look so repulsed by his touch. She thought he was the one when they talked previously but he was a good liar she supposes. They part amicably, Rianne going home to her cozy townhome outside the city of Pittsburgh to unwind and forget about that weird ass date. The home was purchased for her by a previous sugar daddy, the perfect three-story brick townhome with a backyard. Sometimes she misses that SD but the two parting ways is for the better.

It’s the last week before school starts and she still doesn’t have a new SD which is a problem because her loan is big. Her parents helped her with her first degree, public policy and analysis from Emory University in Atlanta, her family’s hometown. She took a year off to work but after realizing she needed a bit more knowledge for her field, she decided to go back to school. Unfortunately for Rianne, grad school must be paid on her own. Spending your whole life in one city leaves it feeling small, so she decided to get out. There were too many bad memories in that city and the closeness to everyone she grew up with was annoying. Now was the time for Rianne to spread her wings and get a bit of freedom. She chose a program far from home and the University of Pittsburgh was the first school to accept her and it’s a good program for her master’s in public health, so she said fuck it and moved during the summer. At the time, she was with her former sugar daddy, and he offered to get her a home so she would have a nicer place to stay while she’s in school. He was always so generous with her, too bad he had to fuck it up. Rianne goes to her room and changes for a shower and afterward she dresses and winds down with some wine and trashy tv.

When Sid comes across Rianne’s profile on the sugaring site, he’s immediately smitten. She’s gorgeous and seems pretty normal compared to the other girls on the site. There’s the added bonus that she’s in Pittsburgh and doesn’t seem to care too much about sports, so no groupies thank God. Sid finds her Instagram account and scrolls through it, impressed at all her adventures and even more at how attractive he finds her.

It takes him nearly two weeks to message her on Instagram. Why would she want to get into this arrangement with an old guy like me? Sid thinks to himself, granted he had seen the profiles of the other men on the site, and they were much older than he is. If anything, he has a better shot than they do. One afternoon, he works up the courage to send her a message. Sid feels like a teenager again, anxiously waiting for a pretty girl to call or message him back and him still not knowing what to say to her when she does.

Rianne_Thomas: Um hey? Are you really Sidney Crosby?

SPC87: Last time I checked yes. Would you like proof?

Rianne_Thomas: Yeah, if you don’t mind

Sidney goes to fish out his license from his wallet and takes a picture of it. He remembers to thank his sister for teaching him how to use the editing tool in the photo app on his phone while he blacks out his address. He sends the picture to her and waits but the wait isn’t long.

Rianne_Thomas: Okay I believe you. So…how did you find me?

SPC87: This is embarrassing but through the sugaring site you posted your info on?

Rianne_Thomas: Ooohh! Are you interested in being my sugar daddy Sidney?

Sid blushes hard, no one has ever called him daddy. At least not to his face.

SPC87: I guess so, that is why I was on the website in the first place.

Rianne_Thomas: How do I know that you’re actually good for the money? I know you play hockey but do y’all actually make money?

Sid snorts at her insinuation that he’s broke.

SPC87: I have more money than I know what to do with. Feel free to look me up.

Rianne_Thomas: Ok maybe I will!

Rianne does a quick google search of the guy and her jaw drops. Perhaps he’s kind of cute and he’s not so fucking old. His award section on Wikipedia takes so fucking long to read though and his salary is pretty nice too.

Rianne_Thomas: Aight so you got some money and apparently aren’t half bad at hockey

SPC87: 😂 I do alright I guess

Rianne_Thomas: More than alright it seems. Well I’m intrigued, maybe we can meet up and get to know each other a little better

SPC87: I’d like that

Rianne_Thomas: Great! I’ll let you know when and where I’d like to meet, I am a busy woman you know

SPC87: I like a woman who takes charge plus this is about your needs if not more than mine

Rianne_Thomas: Ooohh keep talking like that and you might get more than you bargained for Sidney!

SPC87: That doesn’t sound so bad to me 😊

Tags: @princessphilly @prettybiching @izzylovestheworld @paintingtheice @rinkrats @barzzal

#and then life was beautiful #atlwb #atlwb update #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby x f!reader #sidney crosby #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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hrina · 4 years

Text

1923, Pt. II - The Week

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 8.4k REQUESTED: perhaps? idek anymore

hey yall, here’s PART 2 of the historical/groundskeeper!AU :) i really hope u guys like it, i spent the past two weeks trying to make it the best that i could. anywayyyy im sure everyone knows the drill by now: support content creators by reblogging their work and/or offering feedback! happy reading 💚💚💚

warning: parts of this fic will contain mature language and nsfw content. if it makes you uncomfortable, you absolutely do not have to read! take care of urselves <3

PART I: The Day

~*~

July 7th, 1923

It’s hot.

You set your glass of water back onto the little table to your left. Excess condensation coats your fingertips; you wipe them against your forehead, hoping that it will be enough to cool you down. No such luck—the droplets provide a momentarily chill before sinking into your skin, leaving you feeling just as scorched as before.

You recline against the cushy yellow lounger, closing your eyes and tilting your face up to the sky. The sun beats down against your cheeks. The thin, cottony material of your dress is pasted to your thighs; you flex your legs slightly, hoping that the fabric will unstick.

In the distance, Apollo and Artemis—no longer confined to their pens—roam around the small, girded pasture adjacent to the stables. The fountain in the middle of the back lawn is about one hundred feet away. Skinny streams of water shoot out from the stone hands of a carved angel, spilling picturesquely into the upwelling below.

You crack one eye open slowly, letting your focus drift over to where Harry is crouched on the cobbled staircase of the porch. Sweat glistens on the nape of his neck as he furiously scrubs the steps clean.

Your thoughts retreat to the night before, when he’d kissed the back of your hand whilst standing in that very same spot. As though triggered by the memory, your knuckles begin to tingle.

Harry sits back on his haunches and drags his forearm across his face, wiping away the excess perspiration on his skin. His white shirt is soaked through with moisture. When he lifts his attention from the ground, your gazes lock for a brief moment. Immediately, your open eye snaps shut.

And you can’t be entirely sure, but you think that he may have smiled.

You lay in silence for another five minutes or so, indulging in the occasional sip of water as the heat of the summer envelopes your body. You only sit up when someone clears their throat from behind you, pulling you from your tranquil daze.

“Good afternoon,” Martin says. He’s standing a bit too close for comfort, casting a looming shadow over your torso.

“Hello,” you reply. You try to mask the disappointment that threatens to seep into your tone. A small part of you—a tiny, microscopic part—had been hoping that he was someone else.

“Thought you could use something to drink,” he says, plopping onto the recliner to your right. Your attention falls lower—two glasses are nestled comfortably in his hands. The caramel-coloured liquid inside each cup glints alluringly, sloshing over a trio of ice cubes that have already begun to melt.

“Is that…scotch?” you say, narrowing your eyes slightly.

“Yes,” he says. He extends an arm, offering you one of the glasses. “Fancy a taste?”

“I’ve had it before,” you say smoothly, shaking your head. “Truthfully, it’s not my favourite. Besides—” You gesture to the little table on your left. There’s still a bit of water residing in your cup. “—I already have a drink.”

Martin’s face falls.

“Thank you, though,” you add, not wanting to sound rude. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

That seems to bolster him a bit, you think, because his shoulders straighten as he shoots you a satisfied smile.

You clear your throat, gazing pointedly up at the sky. “Where’s Andrew?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Martin taps one foot against the floor. He’s wearing a pair of shiny black loafers—they’re new, you guess, and extremely expensive. “He’s in the middle of a call. Private business pertaining to Markham Motors, I believe. It doesn’t concern me—not yet, anyway.”

“Not yet,” you echo.

He chuckles, nodding proudly. “Your brother is remarkably ambitious. Once our two companies merge, I reckon that we’ll be unstoppable.”

“How exciting,” you murmur, reaching over for your water. You raise the cup to your mouth, expelling a soft sigh. “You must be thrilled, I’d imagine.”

“All in a day’s work,” he grunts, setting one glass of scotch down onto the ground. He lifts the other to his lips, taking a delicate sip.

You sit there awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. Martin’s eyes roam the wide expanse of your backyard, jumping from the stables to the fountain and back again. He pauses, then, humming pensively when he spots Harry polishing the stairs less than fifteen feet away.

“It’s a bit…unconventional to be dining with the help, is it not?” he asks, cocking one eyebrow nonchalantly.

You stiffen and glance over your shoulder—Harry is on all fours, scowling as he scrubs a particularly stubborn stain from the bottom step. His chestnut hair tumbles onto his forehead, twisted into pretty ringlets. A spark of heat blazes up your spine.

You turn your attention back to Martin, only to find that he’s also watching the other man work. It’s different, however—his look is judgmental, austere. His thin upper lip curls in disdain and his eyebrows cinch together, radiating condescension.

“We are…” You choose your words carefully. “…a rather unconventional family. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose so,” he acquiesces, tilting his head to the side. “But does it not distress you, somewhat? Inviting them into your home, making yourself and your possessions vulnerable?”

Something gross festers in the pit of your stomach. You bite back the sound of disgust that threatens to spill from your mouth.

“No,” you state curtly. “Not at all.”

Silence falls over the two of you, thick and poignant and tremendously uncomfortable. After a long, tense moment, you sit up, dusting off the skirt of your dress and releasing a faint groan. “I think I’ll be heading in, now.”

“As will I,” Martin replies, jumping to pursue you.

You stand, clutching your glass of water in one hand. He quickly reaches out with extended fingers, trying to take it from you. Though chivalrous, the action is weak, and you both know it.

“Here, let me—”

“No, it’s quite alright—,” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I insist—”

“Mister Russell, really, it’s fine—”

The cup, slick with condensation, slips from your grasp and shatters loudly against the floor. You gasp when a jagged shard slices against your ankle. Pain flares up your shin; abruptly, you fall back onto the lounger. You angle your leg to the side, surveying the damage with wide eyes. The cut is about an inch long; blood drips from the injury, seeping down toward the sole of your bare foot. Bile gathers on your tongue.

“Good God!” Martin exclaims unhelpfully. “You’re bleeding!”

“I can see that,” you snap, bending down and pressing your fingertips against the laceration.

Heavy footsteps approach. When you cast a glance over your shoulder, you find Harry stalking toward you, his eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment.

“What happened?” he asks, but when you hold up one hand, he freezes in his tracks.

“Be careful!” you warn, your voice strained. “There’s glass everywhere.”

“What happened?” he repeats. His gaze lands on Martin, and his nostrils flare unnervingly. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” the other man protests, retreating a few steps away. “It just fell!”

“Go back inside,” Harry commands. “Check all the lavatories—there may be spare bandages in one of the cupboards.”

Martin frowns—you get the feeling that he’s not exactly used to being ordered around. “Now, you listen here—”

“Mister Russell!” you interrupt shrilly, fixing him with a stern glare. “Do as he says. Please.”

Martin closes his mouth and purses his lips, nodding tersely. He nearly trips over himself as he stumbles back into the house.

“He’s useless,” you mutter, bloody fingers slipping against your skin.

Harry doesn’t reply; instead, he situates himself on the opposite edge of the recliner, beckoning you closer with a quick flick of his hand.

“Face this way,” he instructs. “There’s no glass on this side.”

You obey him wordlessly. He gets you settled back into the chair, guiding your right leg over his thigh so that your foot lays comfortably in his lap. With no hesitation whatsoever, he grasps the white fabric covering the jut of his shoulder and gives a mighty tug. The sleeve rips cleanly at the seam. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“We’ll use this,” Harry says, pulling the material down to his wrist. “Just until he returns with proper bindings.”

“Alright,” you whisper. It takes every ounce of willpower in your body to avoid staring at his naked arm—golden, sweat-slicked skin stretched over smooth, corded muscle. A frighteningly large part of you wants to lean forward and sink your teeth into his bicep. You swiftly curb the urge, swallowing heavily and trying to focus your attention on something—anything—else.

“How did this happen?” Harry asks.

He balls the fabric up and dabs cautiously at the blood dripping from your wound.

“He was—well, I don’t even know, really,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “He was trying to be gallant, I suppose.”

“‘Gallant’?” he parrots, gazing down at your leg. “He fancies you, then?”

“Yes.” You pause, rethinking your answer. “No.” You sigh. “Perhaps; I’m not sure.”

He smirks. Despite the pain pulsating up your leg, you wiggle your toes and nudge him with your knee.

“What’s so amusing?” you ask, puzzled.

He simply chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s just that…you’re a bit oblivious, that’s all.”

And for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, you balk and say, “I beg your pardon?”

Harry laughs. Gingerly, he wraps his torn sleeve around your ankle, applying a gentle pressure to your skin. You wince, curling your fingers into fists. His hands—though rough and calloused—are surprisingly tender with their movements. He’s slow and practiced, treating you as though you’re made of porcelain. Your heartbeat quickens; you hope that he can’t hear the way it thunders beneath your ribs.

“You’re rather clueless when it comes to gauging a man’s affections for you,” he explains. He makes it sound as though it’s a phenomenon of which you should already be aware.

You narrow your eyes and purse your lips.

“Tread carefully,” you tell him, though you can’t hide the sardonic undertone in your voice. “You’re wading through dangerous waters, here.”

“What I mean to say is—” Harry clears his throat, shrugging coolly. “—since yesterday’s arrival, that fool’s chattering hasn’t ceased. Building oneself up with words…that’s the sign of a boy aiming to impress a girl.”

“You don’t sound too keen on that method,” you note.

He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Excellent observation. I am not.”

“And why is that?” you ask, cocking one eyebrow challengingly. “How exactly would you attempt to make your affections known?”

Harry places one of his palms on the skin just below your knee. You jump at the contact, shocked by his brazen move. Having his hands on your ankle is one thing—but your knee? It’s risky, bold, nearly scandalous…and with the way he’s looking at you, it’s clear that he knows it, too.

“Building oneself up with words is a boy’s game,” he tells you. “But building oneself up with actions…that’s the sign of a man aiming to impress a woman. It may be a bit unconventional, but—” He pins you with a deliberate stare. “I work for a rather unconventional family. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You say nothing. Harry’s green eyes pierce your face, peeling you open layer by layer. You’ve stopped breathing, your chest completely still. Goosebumps erupt across your arms. Instinctively, your concentration falls to his lips: twin pink petals, sinful and alluring and so incredibly—

“I’ve got the bandages!”

And just like that, the spell is broken. You drag your gaze away from the man in front of you, turning to the side and watching as Martin jogs back over with a thick spool of gauze clutched tightly to his chest.

“Here,” he pants. He passes the roll to Harry, who clears his throat loudly and begins to unwind the bindings with swift, proficient fingers.

Martin then fixes his attention on you, raising his eyebrows quizzically.

“Are you alright?” he asks, shooting you an expectant look.

“Fine,” you croak out, though the blood roaring in your ears sincerely begs to differ.

You blink yourself out of your stupor, running your tongue over the roof of your mouth and exhaling shakily. Harry has turned back to your ankle, replacing the makeshift bandages with proper ones. You glance up at Martin and nod your head, praying that he can’t see the flustered agitation brewing in your eyes.

“Yes, Mister Russell, I’m fine. Thank you.”

July 9th, 1923

The library is your favourite room in the house.

It’s quiet, peaceful, and is accompanied only by the rarest of disturbances. Lydia’s never really enjoyed reading—she can’t sit still long enough to do so. Andrew hasn’t stepped past the threshold in years—he’s been too busy running Markham Motors. So, that just leaves you, along with the freedom to choose from the hundreds of books lining the shelves. You’ve dabbled in fiction and non-fiction alike, soaking up the words from the page just as the ground soaks up rain from a storm.

The library has become your safe haven. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You trod over to your favourite spot to read: a small alcove in the wall, decked out with fluffy cushions and tucked right up against a wide window. It gives you a perfect view of the driveway and the front lawn down below. You’ve spent hours in this little nook, absorbed in novels and poems and biographies. You’ve passed entire nights curled up next to the windowpane, having dozed off in the middle of a story. It’s become a tradition of sorts, despite the dull ache in your neck that always ensues when you stir the next morning.

The book in your hands is heavy as you sink into the mess of pillows. Bright, natural light streams in from the window to your left. You release a soft sigh as your fingers flip to where you’d last left off during your previous visit.

She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me—

You scoff and roll your eyes. You’ve read this story a dozen times; you already know how it ends.

For the next twenty minutes, nothing matters save for the adventures of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You allow yourself to get lost in the world of Pride and Prejudice, eyes hungrily raking over every printed detail. You’re only pulled out of your reverie when a shrill, jubilant cry pierces through the silence.

Instinctively, your head snaps toward the direction of the noise. Through the spotless windowpane, you spy Harry and Lydia standing on the lawn. Harry is holding a brown hose, angling it downward and watering the grass beneath his feet. Your sister is next to him, babbling and gesturing animatedly with her hands. You smile at the sight.

You slip your thumb between the pages of the book to mark your place. The novel is forgotten as you study the scene playing out below.

Harry is wearing an ashen blue button-up and a pair of black trousers. A thin white undershirt peeks out from beneath his collar. He smirks at something that Lydia says, ducking his head and trying to conceal the fond expression on his face. She throws her hands up in the air and twirls around—when she staggers slightly, Harry holds out his arm. Her fingers dig into his elbow to regain balance, and the two of them dissolve into giggles. Warmth unfurls in your chest.

Harry tilts his head back, surveying the cloudless sky with squinted eyes and a wrinkled nose. His attention turns to the house, then, sweeping absentmindedly over the fair bricks and stone accents.

Suddenly, his gaze darts forward. You freeze when his green irises lock squarely on you.

Hot humiliation creeps up your neck, because of course. Staring at him and remaining undetected is a luxury that few can afford.

Your lips part with a soft gasp, and your shoulders stiffen. The corners of Harry’s mouth curl up slightly—so faint, you think it may just be a figment of your imagination. The gilded copy of Pride and Prejudice rests in your lap, abandoned. It mocks you and your preoccupation—your fascination—with the man on the ground.

Harry shoots you a small, mysterious smile, and lifts his chin. You sit up straight, processing his request.

“I shouldn’t—,” you start to say before remembering that he can’t actually hear you. You clench your jaw and shake your head, hoping that he’ll be able to register the movement through the glass.

But his teasing expression only deepens as he beckons you again. A ragged exhale falls from your lips, and a tepid swell of adrenaline floods your veins. You snap your book shut, tucking it against your chest and pushing yourself away from the window. You swear that your heart skips a beat when your feet hit the floor.

Don’t rush, don’t rush, don’t rush.

It’s hard to maintain a measured pace, especially when such a big part of you just wants to take off and sprint down the spiral staircase. You force yourself to dawdle, to smooth your fingers over the bannister and descend slowly. Your palms are clammy as you make your way across the foyer, eyes glued to the large double doors on the opposite wall.

And then you’re outside, the sun beating down against your face and the breeze blowing gently through your hair. You saunter toward the edge of the large portico, leaning against the stone railing with your novel still clutched tightly to your sternum.

“Dee!”

Lydia whips around, taken aback by the call of her name. Upon recognising you, her features morph into a mask of quizzical mockery.

“Where have you been?” she asks, jogging over.

“I was reading,” you say, shrugging indifferently. After a short moment, you add, “Beth’s looking for you.”

“Me? What for?”

In the periphery of your vision, you spy Harry approaching. Water leaks from the nozzle of the hose; he gathers a few droplets onto his knuckles before smearing them across his sweaty forehead. You bite your tongue to suppress a snort.

“Dinner, I believe,” you lie, turning back to your sister. “It’s your turn to choose, is it not?”

Lydia’s eyes light up. “You’re right! It’s Monday, isn’t it?”

Her feet smack loudly against the cobbled steps as she races toward the door. Before disappearing inside, however, she skids to a stop, spinning around and raising one arm high above her head. “Goodbye, Harry!”

Harry smiles, lifting two fingers to his temple in a lazy salute. “Goodbye, little bug.”

A moment later, she’s gone.

And a moment after that, you find yourself sincerely regretting your decision to send her away. Harry observes you with raised brows and a knowing smirk on his face. You gnaw anxiously on your bottom lip, avoiding his eyes. A long beat of silence ensues.

“Hello,” he finally says.

You exhale quietly, relieved. “Hello.”

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“It is,” you agree.

You lean against the stone bannister, peering down at him. The breeze picks up, gusting through your thin skirt and blouse. A small part of you notes the theatrical romanticism of it all: his being on the ground, the butterflies flapping around in your stomach—

“Do you always spend the majority of a nice day locked away in the library?” Harry asks. His pretty irises twinkle alluringly when your gazes meet.

“I—no,” you stammer. “I was just…reading.”

“As one does in a room full of books, I’d expect.”

Embarrassment blooms in your chest.

“Yes,” you say softly. “Precisely.”

He grins.

“How is your ankle?” he asks, motioning toward the bottom of your leg.

“Oh.” You look down, flexing your foot. “It’s healing. I should be fully rehabilitated in a few days.”

Harry chuckles, nodding. You purse your lips and try for a smile, but you’re afraid that it resembles more of a grimace.

“What’ve you got, there?” He lifts his chin, gesturing to the novel tucked between your forearm and your chest. You’re grasping it so tightly that you’re surprised the skin of your knuckles hasn’t split.

You clear your throat, revealing the embroidered inscription on the front cover. “Er—Pride and Prejudice. It’s my favourite.”

Harry hums. “Mine, too.”

And though it is extremely impolite, you can’t stop the look of shock that makes its way onto your face.

“You’ve read it?”

He chuckles sheepishly, dropping his chin. “You have bewitched me, body and soul,” he suddenly says, lifting his eyes from the ground and fixing his unwavering gaze on you, “and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you—”

“—from this day on,” you finish, breathless.

He smiles. Zaps of electricity surge down your spine. The two of you are silent, tripping over unspoken murmurs of indulgence. You scrape your tongue over your teeth, clueless.

Harry is the first one to break.

“I should get back to work,” he announces gently. He gestures to the hose hanging limply from his hand and gives a perfunctory shrug.

“Of course.” You nod, inhaling deeply. “I should get back to…”

He smirks when you trail off. “Reading?” he supplies.

“Yes,” you blurt. “Yes. Exactly.” You hesitate, drumming your fingers against the auburn cover of your book. “Good day, Harry.”

“Good day, miss!” he calls as you begin to walk away. You pause and cast a glance over your shoulder, an admonishment dancing on the tip of your tongue.

For the hundredth time, Harry, you mustn’t feel obligated to address me in such a formal—

But then you register the mischief on his face, and the realisation sinks in.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” you ask.

Crinkles dig into the corners of his eyes.

“I’m afraid that I don’t understand,” he says, tilting his head to the side in faux-confusion. You wipe a clammy palm against the waistband of your skirt and bite back a small smile. Harry’s playful expression deepens, poking a cavernous dimple into his left cheek.

“Have a little compassion on my nerves,” you say, pulling another quote from the novel clasped against your body. “You tear them to pieces.”

His lips twitch, impressed and amused.

“What a shame,” he counters, snickering quietly, “for I dearly love to laugh.”

July 13th, 1923

The past hour of your life has been spent rolling around in bed and resenting your glaring inability to fall asleep. You’re not really sure why you’re still awake after midnight, but you’ve long since given up on trying to solve the mystery that is your body’s biological clock. Smooth satin sheets tickle your bare legs. You groan into your pillow and push yourself up from the mattress, tossing your feet over the edge and shivering softly when they land on the cold hardwood floor.

You wrap yourself up in a thin silk robe; the hem falls only an inch or two above your knees. The rest of the house is silent as you quietly exit your room and pad across the hall. You tiptoe down the spiral staircase; a brief moment later (during which you slip on some comfortable footwear), you’re stepping out into the backyard, greeted by gentle zephyrs and temperate summer air.

As you hop down the porch steps and begin the familiar trek toward the stables, you note the blanket of stars dotting the clear night sky. They twinkle happily, winking at you as though they know something that you don’t.

You shake your head at the thought. They’re stars. Big, flaming balls of gas floating in space, stationed millions of miles away. They know nothing.

Your ears perk up as you approach your destination, struck by the low stream of words carried by the breeze.

“…lilies, and dahlias, too. They tend to bloom during the summer…”

You freeze, feet stalling in the dirt. Leaning in closer, you catch deep murmurs of a faceless voice. The stranger continues to list off different types of flowers; when a soft chuckle laces through the air, your eyes widen in disbelief.

Is that…?

Sure enough, when you creep into the stables, you find Harry standing in front of Artemis’ pen, running his fingers through her shiny mane. His back is to you, shoulder blades flexing beneath the dark button-up adorning his torso. The sleeves reach his biceps, stretching slightly whenever he lifts his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he’s saying as you inch closer, hopelessly engrossed in the pseudo-conversation. “Sugar cubes are a bit of a rarity in my home. I haven’t any others.”

A twig snaps beneath your foot. You wince.

Harry whips around, startled. Upon recognising you, he blows out a heavy breath. Tension leaks from his body, and twin pink spots form on his cheeks. You stare at the blush colouring his face, mesmerized—you’ve never seen him look so dumbfounded.

“Er—,” you say. You raise your hand in an awkward, half-hearted wave. “Hello.”

“Hello,” he replies.

A beat of silence ensues.

“What are you…?” you trail off, trying to keep your voice level. “Were you just—?”

“Yes,” he says quickly. A sheepish chuckle tumbles off his tongue. “I....I understand it, now. Talking to one’s horse is rather soothing.”

“She’s not yours, though.” Your response is blunt, unfeeling.

Harry’s nostrils flare, and his feet scuff against the ground. Now that he’s facing you, you’re able to get a better look at him. A white undershirt peeks out from beneath his button-up, leaving his collarbones exposed. A gold chain glints around his neck, illuminated under the dim light. He’s wearing brown trousers and those same black boots, but you think that he may have polished them, finally, because they’re considerably tidier than before.

“She’s not,” Harry agrees, swallowing nervously. “My sincerest apologies. I can see that I’ve crossed a line—”

You can’t stifle the giggle that bubbles up in your throat. Harry hesitates, fixing you with a bewildered expression. At last, you shoot him a small smile, shaking your head and waving away his regrets.

“I’m only teasing,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Breathe, Harry.”

He exhales raggedly, ruffling the curls at the back of his head. “Jesus. You frightened me.”

“Good. Perhaps you’ve finally learned your lesson, then.”

“My lesson?” he echoes, cocking his head to the side. “And what exactly would that be?”

“To avoid sneaking up on others at night,” you say. “Especially if they’re in the midst of conversing with their horse. It’s a very private exchange, you know—endless confessions have been made under this roof.”

Harry laughs.

“I think I’ve supplied my fair share of confessions, tonight,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly. “I can leave you to do the same.”

“No,” you blurt out. “Wait.”

He pauses, shocked by your immediate refutation. You purse your lips as hot shame unfurls in your chest.

“I just meant,” you start, hastening to make amends, “you can stay, if you’d like. Besides—” You shrug. “It’s far more pleasant talking to someone who can actually talk back.”

~*~

“Harry. No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. And I’ll be right next to you. I won’t leave your side.”

You gnaw apprehensively on your bottom lip as he frees Artemis from her pen. She trots out and whinnies softly, tossing her head to the side. He shushes her, dragging a comforting palm over her back. You step closer, mirroring his movements and glaring at him with terse, squinted eyes.

“We’ll go slowly,” he says, fixing you with an earnest look. “A few steps at a time. That doesn’t sound too daunting, does it?”

After a long, overwrought moment, you surrender.

“Very well,” you say. You point at him accusatorily, extending your arm over Artemis’ body. “But as soon as I want to stop, we stop. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Harry leans forward, bumping the pad of your finger with the tip of his nose. The contact makes you gasp. He pauses as well, having realised the implications of the thoughtless action. You swallow heavily; he clears his throat and averts his gaze.

“I’ll get the saddle,” he says.

His heel scrapes loudly against the dry dirt when he turns; you watch as he marches toward the pair of brown saddles hanging on the wooden wall. With a mighty groan, he heaves one from its rusted, metal hook, gathering the leather in his arms before making his way back over to you.

“Thank you,” you murmur shyly.

“You’re very welcome.”

You migrate to the side, petting Artemis’ mane as Harry slips the saddle onto her back. She huffs; you coo at her, holding her face in your hands to keep her calm. Harry spends the next several seconds strapping everything in place. After he’s finished, he gives a gentle tug, ensuring that you won’t slide and fall to the ground once you’re ready to mount.

“All set,” he says, squaring his shoulders.

You glance over at him with wide, frightened eyes. When he meets your gaze, his stoic expression melts into a pool of concern.

“Don’t be afraid,” he says, stepping closer to you.

“I—” Your throat burns. “I haven’t ridden in three years, Harry.”

“I know,” he says solemnly. He offers you his left hand. “Do you trust me?”

Your response is immediate. “I do.”

“Good.” The corners of his lips curl upward. His tone is unreservedly honest when he speaks again. “I won’t let anything happen to you, miss; I swear it.”

You slide your palm against his. A sharp tingle races up your arm, sending your heartbeat into a frenzy. You fight to keep your breathing even as Harry pulls you closer, positioning you in front of him and placing his fingers on your waist.

“Ready?” he murmurs. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear.

You nod.

He grunts as he lifts you. You kick out one leg, slinging it over Artemis’ back and pulling yourself up. Once you’ve settled into a comfortable position, you peer down at him, shoulders taut and ankles locked.

“Breathe,” Harry reminds you. He leads by example, inhaling deeply; you imitate him, trying to ignore the thin sheen of sweat gathered at the nape of your neck.

“What do I do, now?” you ask after a thin stretch of silence.

He chuckles good-naturedly, cocking one eyebrow. “You’ve forgotten?”

“No,” you say indignantly, frowning. “I just—”

You break off when he takes your hands and guides them forward. Your fingers wrap around the reins dangling from Artemis’ neck. You fist the leather firmly, swallowing down the hard lump in your throat. Harry’s nostrils flare as he retracts his arms. You’re fascinated by the way his tongue darts out of his mouth, swiping over his sunburnt lips.

“A few steps at a time,” he says, repeating his former words.

You nod, blowing out a shaky exhale. Gently, you dig your heels into Artemis’ belly and click your teeth. She snorts and takes a step forward; the air is swiftly knocked from your lungs.

“I’m right here,” Harry pipes up. He lays one palm against the back of the saddle, keeping pace. “I won’t let you fall.”

Gradually, you make it out of the stables. The distance can’t be more than fifteen or twenty feet, but it’s a start. You tug softly on the reins, and Artemis stops abruptly. The sudden pause has you lurching forward in your seat. You squeak; quicker than a lightning strike, Harry is there. His hand settles on the small of your back, keeping you steady.

You look down at him, and your gazes lock. Jade eyes gleam beneath the lustrous night sky. His attention falls lower, and only then do you realise that the hem of your robe has ridden up your leg. Most of your thigh is exposed—smooth skin on total display, mere inches from his face. You release an inaudible gasp, shifting your hips to the side so that the silk slips back down.

A muscle in Harry’s jaw twitches enticingly. He removes his touch from your back and turns away.

“Beautiful evening,” he says stiffly, peering up at the stars. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes,” you whisper. You clear your throat. “I’d like to dismount, now. Would you mind?”

He shakes his head and hums. “Not at all. Hold onto me.”

You place your hands on his shoulders, and he curls his fingertips into your waist. Wordlessly, he lifts you from Artemis’ back. You yelp when your ankle snags on one of the saddle’s leather straps. He stumbles backward, wrapping his arms tightly around your midsection and grunting in surprise. When you eventually regain your footing, your eyes widen at the compromising nature of your position.

Harry is clutching you against his torso, his face buried in your neck. Warm puffs of air leave his lips and coat the column of your throat; the sensation sends shivers down your spine. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, chest heaving with difficult, onerous breaths.

It’s a stance that should only be shared between lovers, you think. Between a husband and his wife.

Harry is not your husband.

And you are not his wife.

The two of you break apart almost immediately, choking on hasty, half-formed sentences.

“My apologies, miss—”

“No, you needn’t—I should have been more cautious—”

“It’s late; you must be spent—”

“I’m not ready to leave.”

Harry freezes, his jaw agape. Several seconds elapse before he can find it in himself to muster a reply.

“I beg your pardon?” He’s breathless, swept away by your confession.

You shift awkwardly.

“I’m not ready to leave,” you repeat. You clasp your hands behind your back and fix him with an even stare. You hope that he can’t hear the slight quiver at the base of your declaration. “I—I wish to spend more time with you.”

He blinks. “With me?”

You nod. “With you.”

“What…?” He hesitates. “What would you like to do?”

You shrug. “Anything.”

Harry puckers his lips, lost in thought. After a prolonged moment of deliberation, his features light up. “I know a place.”

“‘A place’?” you parrot, brows knitting together.

“A place,” he confirms. “You trust me, do you not?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” you say, scoffing quietly. “I believe I’ve made myself abundantly clear.”

He chuckles. You tug on the sleeves of your robe and grate your slippers into the dirt. Harry watches you with careful eyes.

“Do it now, then,” he says, nodding encouragingly. He holds out his hand once more, beckoning you closer. “Trust me, now.”

You chew on your bottom lip, gracing him with a curt bob of your head. Artemis huffs as you wrap her reins around your wrist and slide your fingers against Harry’s palm. He pats your knuckles gently, guiding them to the crook of his elbow.

“Shall we?” he asks. It’s impossible to read the emotion in his voice.

Your response of endorsement is meek. Gone is the confident woman from a minute ago: the one who stated what she wanted without a second thought. She slips through your grasp easily, disintegrating into a pile of dust and leaving nothing behind.

“We shall,” you choke out.

Harry’s lips twitch with the ghost of a smile, and Artemis’ hooves clunk against the ground as he leads you off into the night.

~*~

“This is so…”

“Nice, isn’t it?”

“‘Nice’?” You spin on your heel slowly, taking in your surroundings. “It’s incredible.”

The water trickling through the creek is crystal clear. A few shiny rocks peek out from the shallow stream, gleaming in the moonlight. You peer up at the stars—hundreds of diamonds, perfectly visible thanks to the large gap of the clearing. Crickets chirp along the edges of the bushes, and yellow-green fireflies ride the breeze.

“How did you find this place?” you breathe.

“It may sound foolish—,” Harry begins. He holds one hand out; you transfer Artemis’ reins into his palm. “—but I can’t remember.”

“Really?” you ask, stunned. You trail after him as he leads your horse to a nearby tree. He loops her leather harnesses around a thick branch, tying a proficient knot and giving it a few experimental tugs. Your gaze remains glued to his hands: the way his fingers work deftly, the way his knuckles flex with each pull—

“Really,” he says. A soft sigh tumbles from his mouth as he steps back. “Come with me.”

You follow him to the middle of the clearing, trying to anticipate his next move. What you don’t expect, however, is for him to drop to his knees. He falls backward, spine meeting the grass with a faint thump. You gasp, staring down at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“Don’t be afraid,” Harry hums, shooting you a playful smirk. He crosses his arms behind his head—you try to avoid staring at the prominent bulge of his biceps. “The weeds won’t bite.”

“O—Oh,” you stammer, nodding quickly. “Alright, then.”

Daintily, you lower yourself to the ground. He watches you with an amused expression on his face.

“What?” you say, pouting.

“Nothing.” He snickers quietly. You tuck your ankles beneath your thighs as he turns to the side, propping his head up with one hand. “Correct me if I’m wrong, miss, but…I presume that you don’t often make it a point to lay in the grass.”

“That would be an accurate presumption,” you say, laughing softly. Harry smiles.

“You should spend more time outside,” he says absentmindedly. “You’re always cooped up in the house.”

You cock one eyebrow teasingly. “Do you wish to see more of me, Harry?”

“Absolutely not,” he replies, humour evident in his tone. “I am simply trying to instill some sense of adventure into your life.”

The corners of your lips kink upward. In a matter of seconds, however, your delight melts away, replaced by a somberness that you can’t seem to shake.

“I was far more adventurous before the accident,” you murmur, dropping your gaze. You reach out, fiddling with a few blades of grass in an attempt to avoid Harry’s doleful eyes. “Now, I…I’m afraid of everything, it seems.”

Silence hangs in the air between you, filled only by the steady symphony of chirping crickets.

“If I may ask—,” Harry starts, shifting closer. “—what happened?”

You swallow down the lump in your throat. “Artemis shoved me off.”

“She did?”

“It wasn’t her fault!” you say quickly, holding up one hand. “She got spooked, I suppose. And I wasn’t expecting it, so…I fell.”

“What frightened her?” he asks, anxious creases digging into his forehead.

You shrug. “I don’t know. But since then, I’ve been uneasy about riding. If I’m oblivious to what alarmed her the first time, who’s to say that it won’t happen again?”

He nods. “I understand.”

You sigh, plucking a piece of grass from the dirt and twirling it between your fingers. “I wish I could be more like Drew,” you hum distantly. “Someone who throws themselves into their trauma instead of shying away from it.”

Harry’s brows knit together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You frown. “He—he never told you?”

He shakes his head. “I haven’t a clue. What is it exactly that you’re referring—?”

“Our parents,” you say softly.

Harry’s mouth clamps shut. He inhales deeply, gracing you with a curt nod. You take his silence as an invitation to elaborate.

“They perished in a car accident,” you murmur, looking away. “My father was head of Markham Motors, at the time. He had overlooked a flaw in the latest model, and when they finally took the vehicle out for a drive, it—”

You break off, unable to continue.

Harry reaches forward, covering one of your hands with his. A puff of stale air catches in your throat. You glance down at him timidly, hoping that he can’t identify the flustered distress on your face.

“I’m so sorry,” he tells you, squeezing your fingers tenderly. “That must’ve been awful.”

You exhale shakily. “It was.”

For the next few minutes, the two of you say nothing else. Instead, you melt into your surroundings—the grass brushing your legs, the slow trickle of water in the creek, the dim buzz of fireflies drifting in the wind. At the edge of the clearing, Artemis snorts, lowers her head, and begins to graze.

At last, you decide to break through the stillness.

“Enough about my family,” you say. You recoil, subtly pulling your hand away. Harry is far too distracting. You’re afraid that if he touches you one more time, tonight, your poor heart will give out. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he replies. He settles back into his previous position: spine pressed flush against the ground, arms tucked coolly beneath his head.

“How are you?” you say. “How is your sister, in Paris?”

He peers up at you with raised eyebrows, impressed. “You remembered?”

“Is there a particular reason as to why I shouldn’t?”

Harry chuckles. “No, I suppose not.”

“Well, go on, then.” You rest your chin on your palm. “What is she like?”

“You’re a bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

You scowl. “Harry.”

“Right, right.” He sighs, smiling fondly up at the sky. “She’s…she’s lovely, really. She just got engaged, as a matter of fact. I haven’t met her fiancé, but he’s stellar, based on how she describes him in her letters.”

“That’s wonderful,” you say. Your gaze drifts longingly over the bridge of his nose. “Send her my blessings, will you?”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, mouth twisting in a roguish smirk. “I reckon she’d find that a bit odd—the two of you have never met.”

“Oh.” You purse your lips, bashful. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Harry laughs; you’re captivated by the dimples embossed into his cheeks.

“I’m only joking,” he tells you, waving away your concerns. “She’ll appreciate that very much. I’m sure of it.”

You don’t reply. Silence hangs in the air, thick and heavy, until his next words slice through the tension like a knife.

“She and I used to do this almost every night,” he murmurs.

“Do what?”

“Come outside,” he says, shrugging. “Lay on the ground. Stare up at the stars.” His irises glaze over with a forlorn look. “We always raced to see who could find the greatest number of constellations.”

“Really?” You don’t know why you’re so taken aback by his confession.

He nods. “Really.”

“Have you found any, tonight?”

He smiles. “Why don’t you come down here and see for yourself?”

The soil is surprisingly comfortable. You join him, resting your back against the grass and gazing up at the night sky. It’s an endless tapestry of diamonds—sparkling, infinite, beautiful. Your chest swells with a deep, relaxed breath as it all sinks in.

“Anything?” Harry asks expectantly.

You squint. After a long moment, a dejected sigh falls from your lips. “No. I’m not very good at this.”

He laughs. You watch, enthralled, as he lifts one hand and points to your left, singling out a curved cluster of stars.

“See these ones, over here? Shaped a bit like a hook? That’s Scorpius.”

“‘Scorpius’?”

“It means ‘scorpion’ in Latin,” Harry explains. “Scorpius was sent by the gods to kill Orion. He was then placed in the sky to advise mortals against the perils of vanity and pride.”

Vanity and pride.

You bite your lip and turn to the side, tucking a palm under your cheek. The action draws Harry’s attention; he does a double take, stunned by the sudden, close proximity of your bodies. His mouth quirks up into a coy smile as he mimics your position, brows furrowed in diluted mystification.

“What is it?” he asks.

You shift, swallowing heavily.

“I’m afraid that I’ve been unfair to you,” you say softly, gazing straight into his eyes. “I—I’ve misjudged you terribly, and for that, I must apologise. I was a fool.”

“You needn’t—,” he starts, but you press on.

“You are kind,” you say, voice thick with emotion. “You are intelligent, and clever, and you have more class in a single finger than most men have in their entire bodies.”

“Miss—”

“I was wrong about you, and I regret allowing my biases to blind me in such an atrocious manner. Can you ever forgive—oomph!”

Harry’s kiss is passionate, bruising. You stiffen, muscles locking in astonishment. One of his hands rests on the ground, providing balance; the other is on your arm, calloused thumb stroking your skin through the thin silk of your robe. You’re frozen, unable to react, because his lips are on yours, and he’s touching your body, and you’re nearly certain that you’ve died and entered the afterlife.

When Harry pulls away after a few short seconds, he’s stupidly sheepish. His eyelashes flutter open, and his stare immediately floods with remorse.

“I—forgive me,” he stammers, tripping over the words. “That was deplorable. I should have asked—”

Roughly, you grab his face between your palms. His cheeks are soft and smooth, jawline dotted with the faintest hint of stubble. The two of you exchange a look—electric, charged, thrilling. A single, critical moment ensues, during which a distinct quote emerges from the deep recesses of your mind.

A girl likes to be crossed a little in love now and then. It is something to think of.

The words echo in your head as you abandon all semblance of common sense, yanking Harry in by the collar of his shirt and kissing him again.

July 14th, 1923

“Quickly! We haven’t got all day!”

“Patience!” you call from the top of the stairs. You guide one last strand of hair into place before hurrying down the flight.

Lydia is waiting for you on the main floor. You set your hands on your hips and fix her with a stern glare, huffing at her eagerness. She sticks her tongue out at you. When you open your mouth to admonish her, she whips around and scurries through the large double doors, disappearing into the backyard.

Upon stepping outside, you find Martin and Andrew already sat on the patio. Lydia settles into one of the chairs around the table, smiling brightly and beckoning you over.

“There you are,” Drew says as you approach. “Beth should be out with dinner any minute now.”

“Do you know what she’s prepared?” you ask, tucking yourself into your seat.

Andrew shrugs and emits a noncommittal sound, clueless.

“Very well,” you sigh, casting a shallow glance across the table. “Good evening, Mister Russell,” you say, tipping your chin in Martin’s direction.

“Good evening.” He beams, tugging on the lapels of his yellow blazer. “Haven’t seen you all day—where have you been hiding?”

You cluck your tongue, tugging nervously at the hem of your dress. “I hardly think it fair for a woman to disclose her spaces of refuge.”

“Stop being so cryptic!” Lydia laughs. She turns to Martin, declaring matter-of-factly, “She was locked up in the library. It’s her favourite room in the entire house.”

Martin hums, diverting his gaze back to you. The expression on his face is indecipherable. “You read?”

You nod. “I do.”

A subtle movement in the periphery of your vision catches your attention. You turn your head to the side, and your heart nearly stops when you spot Harry making his way across the lawn. It appears as though he’s done for the evening, hands caked in grime and shirt speckled with dirt. He steps onto the dusty trail leading into the woods, beginning his journey home.

You haven’t spoken to him since last night—since he kissed you, and then you kissed him, and then the two of you kissed each other until you ran out of air to breathe. He led Artemis to the stables and walked you back to the house just as dawn broke, lighting up the sky with faint hues of pink and blue. You remember sharing a final embrace at the base of the steps before bidding him goodbye, flashing a smile and disappearing inside without another word.

“Would you excuse me?” you say, pushing away from the table and scrambling up out of your seat. “I just—I need to ask Harry about the lilies that he planted yesterday—I’ll only be a moment.”

You scamper off without waiting for a response.

“Harry? Harry!”

He pauses at the call of his name, turning around gingerly. When he spies you hurrying over, his eyes immediately drop to the ground.

You stop in front of him, tilting your head to the side. “Hello.”

“Hello, miss.” He doesn’t lift his gaze. The realisation makes you frown.

“How—how are you?” you ask, licking your lips and clasping your hands behind your back.

“I’m well, thank you. And yourself?”

“I—” Your nostrils flare. “I’m alright. I saw you walking home, and I just wanted to—”

“Forgive me.” Harry cuts you off swiftly. He refuses to look at you, still. “I’m weary. It’s been a long day.”

You recoil slightly, stunned by his candour.

“Of course,” you splutter, nodding. “We were both up quite late last night; time evaded us, I suppose—”

“So, you understand,” he says, stepping back. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

You open your mouth to stop him, but your voice betrays you. Your chest grows tight when he lifts two fingers to his temple, offering up a half-hearted salute.

“Harry—”

He finally meets your gaze, and something inside of you breaks. His eyes are dull and gloomy, revealing nothing. You want to rush forward, to take his face in your hands and hold him close. To run your nails through his hair and smother him in a flurry of hard, worried kisses. To ask him why he’s acting this way. He had been so happy last night—what changed?

But the others are watching from the patio, and you’re a goddamned coward, and you can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

“Enjoy your dinner, miss,” Harry says. His tone is emotionless—it makes you want to cry. “Take care.”

~*~

PART III: The Month

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