#being just. in a bed. is like. too exposed?? its why weighted blankets help a lot but sometimes its just. not enough | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

searidings · 3 years

Note

hi, i just love you and your writing

can i suggest something - you are in love (taylor swift) and supercorp

i cannot listen to that song without going yeah, that's them

(also on ao3 if you prefer)

Five years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, five years from now, Lena will think back to this moment.

This moment, which is as close as Lena's come to happiness since she'd woken up ziptied to a chair in her brother's office. This moment which, despite the fuzzy feeling of her unbrushed teeth and the pungent aroma of burnt toast filling the air, is perfect.

Kara, bed-warm and sleep-heavy, is gazing beseechingly down at the charred remains of a slice of a bread as though if she only pouts hard enough, its edges will un-blacken and its corners will stop smoking.

“I'm so sorry,” she says as Lena rounds the screen separating Kara's bedroom from the rest of the apartment and perches herself on a barstool, tugging her borrowed sleep shorts a little lower down her thighs.

Kara's tone is mournful, her face so forlorn she looks to be one deep breath away from tears. “I wanted breakfast to be perfect, since it's your first time staying over and if it's terrible you might not want to stay again and I, I really want you to stay again, but I don't know why you would since you probably have a private chef waiting for you at home and I can’t even manage toast—”

“Kara,” Lena interrupts, biting at the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as Kara's bottom lip trembles. “It's fine, really. I once set fire to my dorm kitchen trying to boil an egg. And besides,” she winks as blue eyes meet hers. “I like to give my personal chef the weekends off.”

Kara huffs out a relieved chuckle, her face brightening. “Oh, well, in that case,” she grins, a sparkle returning to her eyes. “I'd better feed you up before you go home. Never let it be said that I don't look after you.”

Lena can't help the smile that pulls at her as the warm bright feeling in her chest grows and grows. She tugs the sleeves of Kara's sweatshirt over her hands, fighting the urge to fidget as the blonde orders a frankly obscene amount of food from the brunch place on the corner.

She feels exposed like this, face bare and hair sleep-mussed, unshowered with unbrushed teeth, huddled inside borrowed clothes after the impromptu invitation to stay over when last night's movie marathon ran late. It's a far cry from the regimented composure she fights so hard every day to project, and something in her chest twists anxiously.

Kara is a reporter, after all, and National City really doesn't need any more reasons to hate Lena right now. The darkest corner of her mind – the one which has been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everything to come crashing down ever since the whirlwind of Kara's too-good-to-be-true friendship had come blazing into her life – still worries that this may all be an elaborate ruse. A trap, a way to get close to her in order to assess her weaknesses, to bring her down with an inside scoop.

But in their six months of friendship, Kara's never given her any reason to believe she has any kind of ulterior motive. And despite the suspicions and anxieties hammered into her by a lifetime of hurt, Lena knows now that even if this is a trap, she'll take the bait willingly. Especially if it means Kara will keep looking at her like there might just be something in Lena that's worth her time.

"Hey,” the blonde says gently, leaning back against the counter opposite and pinning Lena with a searching look. “You okay? You kind of zoned out on me there.”

Lena jumps, blinking back into herself with a start. “Yes, sorry. I was miles away.”

The blonde only smiles, flicking on the coffee machine at her elbow. “You sleep okay?”

“Very well, thank you,” Lena answers, fighting to lessen the formality of her tone, to soften the edges her harsh childhood had sharpened into a fortress to keep the world at bay. “Your bed is surprisingly comfortable. I had a great night's sleep.”

"Perhaps the company had something to do with it,” Kara winks as she turns to pull two mugs down from the hooks at her shoulder. Lena thinks back to the smell of Kara's sheets and the soft pulls of her breathing, to the warmth of Kara's ankle against her calf and the strong fingers that had wrapped themselves in the sleeve of Lena's sweatshirt in sleep, anchoring them together. She blushes.

Kara only smirks, pouring their drinks and grabbing the milk from the fridge. “Well, the food's all ordered, it should be here soon,” she says over her shoulder, the waterfall of her golden ponytail mesmerising in the bright rays of morning light filtering in through the vaulted windows. “And you don't need to head off in a hurry, unless you have plans—?”

She glances back at Lena, who shakes her head. “Great!” she grins. “’Cause I was thinking, maybe we could check out the botanical gardens, since it's such a nice day? Oh, and there's a new bakery right across the street that I've been dying to try—”

Lena listens to the blonde's excited rambling with an endeared smile plastered to her face, feeling happy and warm and wanted with every fibre of her being. The feeling is new but so welcome she could cry, and Lena wonders – not for the first time – how she ever got so lucky.

Kara's presence in her life is like sugar in her coffee; meant only to sweeten that which has always been bitter.

Lena's always taken her coffee black. Softening the blow was never much her style.

But here, now, perched at Kara's breakfast bar with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug the blonde has brewed to perfection, sunlight streaming in and highlighting the angles and planes of Kara's face, the way she’s smiling at Lena like there's nowhere else in the world she'd rather be, she realises her reasoning is twofold.

Sugar isn't just appetising. It's addictive. And now that Lena's had a taste of sweetness, she's hooked.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

Four years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, four years from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which may well be one of the lowest of Lena's life. And she's had some doozies.

The two bottles of wine she'd managed to mainline between Sam leaving to orchestrate damage control at L-Corp and Kara arriving and attempting to confiscate her glass have well and truly caught up to her now. She sways heavily on her stool, the room spinning. Tears sting her vision and guilt scorches her throat as she presses a hand over her eyes so she won't have to look at Kara's face anymore.

“Please, just— just, stop believing in me, okay?” she slurs, heart full to shattering with the faces of lead-poisoned children. “I am not worth it.”

She hears Kara sigh, and the room falls silent for a long long time. Lena drops her head fully into her hands, fighting the nausea that's taken root in the pit of her stomach. It could be the booze that's causing it, of course, but it could also be the incessant headlines baying for her blood, the bullet James had taken for her that she'd fully deserved, the curse of her family finally fulfilling itself.

The guilt, the worry, the crushing disappointment of the knowledge that despite her very best efforts, she'll never be anything but a monster— it's too much to feel. It's too much to bear.

So, Lena drinks.

She drains her glass. She pours another. Kara watches, silent and disapproving, fingers twitching against the granite countertop between them.

Lena finishes her glass. Splashes the last dregs of the bottle into it, blood on ice. Still Kara watches, motionless and mute. It's only when Lena's swallowed the last of the red and is lurching unsteadily to her feet to source another that she moves, a hand reaching out to encircle her wrist.

Shame ignites beneath her skin and she pushes Kara away. Snaps at her to go home, to learn to recognise a lost cause when she sees one and just give up already. Kara refuses with a stoic shake of her head, and Lena sighs.

They repeat the same routine three times en route to Sam's wine rack, the blonde shadowing her every step. Each time, Lena wobbles, head fuzzy and room spinning. Each time, Kara steadies her, and Lena flinches from her touch like her palm is a brand, snarls at her to leave, to cut her losses, to just fuck off. Each time, Kara refuses.

She eventually retrieves the wine after a number of unsuccessful attempts but overbalances on her toes, bottle slipping from her grip as she sways dangerously. And then Kara is there, glass bottle caught a split second before it can shatter, a firm arm at her waist that will not be rebuffed.

Lena struggles, shoving and protesting, but this time Kara does not give in. “Enough,” she says quietly, firmly, blue eyes burning a mere inch from Lena's own. “Lena, enough.”

Lena's unsteady legs buckle further and Kara’s basically holding her up now, walking her slowly over to the couch and she shouldn't be this strong, surely, shouldn't be lifting Lena onto the cushions quite this easily. But it's such a minor concern when weighted against the fact that Lena is personally responsible for the hospitalisation of children that her mind brushes over it, forgets it immediately.

"Please go home,” she slurs as the blonde arranges her on the couch, as she stashes the unopened wine far out of reach and sets about finding blankets and pillows in various cupboards. “Please, just— leave me alone.”

“No,” Kara says, almost snaps, glancing back over her shoulder. Partially hidden in the linen cupboard, her face is cast deep in shadow, a splinter of half-concealed truth. “I made you a promise, I gave you my word. I'm your friend, and I will protect you. Always.”

She crosses back to the couch, soft blankets and pillows held out in invitation. When Lena refuses the offering Kara sighs, draping a knitted throw over her anyway and perching on the cushions beside Lena's hip. “I'm not going to leave you, so you might as well stop asking,” she hums, softer now, a hand reaching toward her that Lena no longer possesses the strength or coordination to bat away.

Long fingers make contact with her cheek, with the mussed curls tangling in her eyelashes, and Kara sighs. “You are not your brother,” she murmurs, fingertips grazing Lena's cheekbone, sliding back to thread into the fine hair at her temple. “And you never will be. There's too much light in you to allow for that kind of darkness, so put that fear down, Lena. Let it go. Be free of it.”

Tears spring unbidden to her eyes. “I poisoned children.”

Kara tilts forward and Lena wonders if it's just that her vision has upped its spinning, but then warm lips are pressing against her forehead, soft and delicate as gossamer wings. Kara's mouth moves against her skin, breath damp and sweet and unmistakeably her. “You saved the world.”

Neither one of them moves. When Lena speaks again, the words hit the elegant hollow of Kara's throat. “I don't deserve your kindness. I don't deserve you.”

Kara's lips are still on her forehead. “I don't care.”

Lena feels as if her throat is splitting open, every last fear and hatred and worry and insecurity gushing out of her in an unstoppable stream. “I'm scared.”

“I know.” Kara's lips press once more, and then withdraw. They watch each other in the dim light from the kitchen. Lena's vision is beginning to blur at the edges. Kara's hand is still in her hair.

“You will get through this,” the blonde whispers, so earnest Lena almost manages to believe her. “We'll figure it out. Together.”

Heart in her mouth, tongue sticking behind her teeth, Lena's eyes slide closed.

The sweetness of Kara's words, her gentle touches, seep inside her like honey. She doesn't deserve it but God, she wants it. She wants to be worthy of Kara's faith in her more than she's ever wanted anything in her life. She wants Kara more than she's ever wanted anything in her life.

And it's telling, she knows, that she's just lost the trust of all of National City, that she has no way of easing those children's suffering and no way to prove that she isn't the cause of it, that she's finally living up to the Luthor name she's been running from ever since she'd learned what it truly meant and yet in this moment, with Kara's hand in her hair and the ghostly imprint of her lips on Lena's skin, none of it seems to matter.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

Three years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, three years from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which stands alone as an oasis of calm in the turbulent tumult of the past days, weeks, months of chaos. Lex's escape from custody, Eve Teschmacher's betrayal, James’ shooting, the Harun-El serum, the whole shitty totality of it all has been weighing Lena down like an nth metal chain around her neck.

And Kara, Kara hasn't been around. The one person who has always managed to ease Lena's suffering has deserted her when she needs her the most and it feels like she's been sliced open, cracked in two.

She tells her as much, when Kara at last comes to see her. Tells her she's missed her, tells her she needs her, all but begs her to stay. And what does Kara do? She leaves.

And when she leaves, Lena is gripped by a panic so intense she fears she may never breathe freely again. So terrified is she that Kara is gone for good, that she's forced away the best thing that's ever happened to her, that almost before she knows what's happening she finds herself at Catco with apologies dripping from her own tongue.

Anything to get Kara back. Anything to keep her.

Lena apologises. Kara apologises. Lena cries, and Kara holds her, and tells her that the decision to help her brother when he was dying of cancer doesn't make her the monster she now believes herself to be. And standing on her office balcony with Kara's fingers wrapped around her biceps, with her own tears spotting dark on Kara's blazer, Lena manages to believe her.

When she's collected herself, smoothed away the wetness coursing down her cheeks, she speaks. “I really want to help you with your investigation on Lex.”

Kara's face lights up; Lena's whole world along with it.

“I'd love that,” Kara says, voice quiet and still a little tentative in the wake of their new truce. “But first— would you, um. Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Lena blinks. “Don't you want to get started on the exposé?”

“I do. But—” Kara's face is still painted that earnest shade from earlier, when she'd smoothed her hands over Lena's shoulders and whispered you are a brilliant, kind-hearted, beautiful soul against the sensitive skin of her neck. Lena feels her cheeks heat up at the memory, at the intensity in the blue eyes still roving her face.

Kara shuffles her feet but her gaze is clear, unwavering. “But you were right. I've spent too much time recently prioritising the wrong things. So, I want to work on this exposé with you, and I want to bring your brother down. But first, I'd really just like to have lunch with my best friend.”

Lena's heart trips in her chest. “I'd like that too.”

So, that's what they do. Kara asks her to wait, which she does, idly tapping out a few emails on her phone. And then the blonde is back, far quicker than should have been possible, with her arms full of takeout bags from the café on the third floor and she's taking Lena by the hand and leading her to Cat Grant's private elevator. She presses the button for the roof and Lena's gaze jumps to her face but Kara only smiles, and squeezes her fingers. “Trust me, it'll be worth it,” she hums, her excitement infectious. “You'll be safe with me.”

And Lena believes her.

That's how she ends up sitting at the edge of Catco's roof on a clean sheet Kara had borrowed from the builders on the second floor, heels kicked off, Kara's red blazer draped around her shoulders. It is worth it, she'll admit; the view from this high is phenomenal. The sun burns bright in a cloudless sky, glinting off the glass-sided skyscrapers of the business district, the glittering waters of the bay beyond.

Kara had picked up Lena's favourite salad, some flatbreads and dips, and they drink kombucha and eat strawberries in the sunshine. They talk and they laugh and they catch up and there's no more fighting, no animosity, no megalomaniac brothers or backstabbing secretaries or worlds needing to be saved. There's only them, she and Kara, and it feels like all she will ever need.

The blonde's hands are braced behind her on the rooftop and she looks happy and carefree as she regales Lena with stories of her upstairs neighbour's antics, and Lena feels the tight knot of tension that had taken up residence in her chest begin to unfurl.

"Hey,” Kara hums, pushing up straighter as Lena licks strawberry juice from her fingertips. The motion brings them closer, their shoulders brushing. “Look up.”

Lena does. High above them, a huge murmuration of starlings whirls and swoops through the air. Thousands of birds move together as one, a vast wave cresting but never breaking against the blue canvass of sky.

“Wow,” Lena gasps, awed.

Against her side, Kara hums. “Yeah.”

They watch the birds for a long moment, captivated by the ceaseless swirling and diving. When Lena at last tears her gaze away from the sky, Kara's eyes rest intently on her face. "Here,” the blonde murmurs, reaching out. The pad of one finger makes feather-light contact with her cheek. Lena's breath catches in her chest.

Kara holds out her finger, proffering the stray eyelash she'd captured with a smile. "Make a wish,” she whispers, her fingertip an inch from Lena's mouth. Her eyes never leave Lena’s.

Lena looks from Kara's face to the eyelash, and back again. From somewhere deep inside her heart, the truth bubbles its way to the surface. “I don't need to.”

Kara smiles, a brilliant, beautiful smile, and Lena knows. The stresses and anxieties of their current crisis feel far away here, harmless as birdsong. She's meted out forgiveness, received it in return. For the first time in her adult life Lena has communicated an issue with a loved one and been heard, understood. She has admitted her own mistake without having it spell out the end of her relationship.

Lena smiles back. The weight of the world sublimates into nothing beneath the bliss of a simple picnic in the sun.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

Two years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, two years from now, Lena will think back to this moment.

This moment, which has sapped the both of them to the bone. Another fight, another screaming match, another quick-fire back and forth of accusations and recriminations. Another night of cursing and crying and choking on all the things they never said before this, on all the things they can't now that Kara's secret has detonated in the shrinking space between them like a nuclear bomb.

Another round of bloodshed, and for what?

Lena sags against the arm of the couch, exhausted. Her face is hot, scratchy with salt from the tears still drying on her skin. She's dehydrated, probably, and half hoarse from shouting, tongue blistered with the bitter sting of betrayal.

Across the no man's land of her living room, Kara slumps against the floor-length windows, drops her temple to the cool glass. She's breathing heavily, cheeks wet, posture battered and eyes dark-bruised beneath the force of Lena's wrath. As Lena watches, her eyes slide closed.

It's been three months since Lena found out. Three weeks since Kara found out that Lena had found out.

Every night since, they've done this. Every night, Kara has shown up on her balcony and begged, pleaded, apologised, cajoled, defended, rebuffed, and sobbed. Every night, Lena has unleashed the hollow agony of Kara's deception masquerading as anger in her chest, incinerating the both of them in the fires of her desolation.

She would have expected the wounds to have cauterised by now. To feel some kind of release, the relief of catharsis. Or at least, to have expended some of her fury after all this time.

She hasn't.

They've been at this for three hours already this evening, and gotten nowhere. Kara's skin is pale above that fucking supersuit, face drawn and complexion sallow.

Lena knows how she feels. The singular exhaustion that is her rift with Kara has sapped her in every way imaginable. She can't sleep. She barely eats. She's no longer interested in work, research, friends. There's nothing in her life that isn't tainted by the shadow of the lies her best friend told and kept telling, every day for four years. Lena doesn't know how any amount of screaming and crying is ever going to get them past that.

Across the room, Kara sighs. It might be the saddest sound Lena has ever heard.

“Should we keep doing this?” she asks after an interminable silence, voice rough with tears still building. Her eyes are still closed.

Lena manages, with exorbitant effort, to raise her drooping head. “What?”

“Is there a point to all this?” Kara asks quietly, hunched body sliding a little further down the glass. "The explanations, the fighting?”

Blue eyes blink open. The weight of the sadness in them is unbearable. Lena struggles to find it within herself to care.

“Lying to you about who I am is the single biggest mistake I have ever made, and if it will make even one single shred of difference I will apologise to you every day for as long as I live,” Kara says into the aching chasm between them. “But I can't keep doing this. Not if it won't change anything. I can't— I don't want to keep hurting you.”

An hour ago, Lena would have scoffed at a sentiment like that. Would have parried back with some piercingly dry comment about how the blonde should have thought about that before she decided to betray Lena's trust as soundly as she possibly could.

Now, though— now, she's just too tired.

“So, should we keep doing this?” Kara whispers, throat working. “Or— God, Lena. Should we just— should we give up?”

Green eyes meet blue, two shattered hearts haemorrhaging between them. “Is that what you want?”

“No.” Kara's voice is loud, fiercely determined in the face of Lena's hesitant whisper. “God, no. Never. I don't ever want to give up on you, Lena. I don't ever want to give you up.”

Kara straightens then, with a strength Lena cannot imagine mustering herself. Perks of being a superhero, she supposes. Perks of being Kryptonian. The thought stakes another shard of ice through her bleeding heart.

“But I know that I've spent four years calling the shots for both of us by keeping you in the dark,” Kara continues. “I've taken away your agency. I've taken away your choice. I won't do that again.”

She sucks in a deep breath, a little of Supergirl's regality seeping back into the defeated slump of her shoulders. “So, I'm doing what I should have done from the start. I'm being honest with you, and hoping that you'll be honest back. I'm asking what you want.”

Kara's fingers twist anxiously before her, bottom lip bleaching white beneath the nervous pressure of her teeth. “Do you think we should keep doing this? Or do you— fuck.” Her voice cracks, the tears brimming in her eyes once again breaking free. “Do you want to give up?”

Jesus Christ. Lena never knew that the prospect of doing the right thing could hurt so much.

“Fuck,” she mutters as she kneads her knuckles over her closed eyelids, digging in until white lights starburst across her vision. “Fuck, Kara.”

“I know,” the blonde whispers from across the room, brittle and broken. “I know. I'm sorry.”

Lena slows her assault on her own eyelids, pinching thumb and forefinger hard at the bridge of her nose instead. “I want to give up,” she mutters, and in the taut silence between them she hears the blonde gasp, watery and thick.

Lena blinks open her eyes to find Kara's face crumpling, every facet of her seeming to fold in on itself even as she visibly fights to keep herself upright.

Lena sighs, and hates Kara, and hates herself even more. “I want to, but— I can't.” She sucks in a ragged breath, hating the truth that's just fallen from her lips, hating the lies that had necessitated it. Hating everything and everyone and most of all, hating just how much she's hurting. “I can't give this up.”

The tiniest spark of hope flares to life in Kara's eyes. Lena hates that she notices, hates that she cares, hates that the sight eases the tight knot of devastation clawing at her ribcage just the tiniest bit.

She also knows that this was inevitable. She knows that, though she hates Kara, though she's nowhere close to forgiving her, though she has no idea how they can rebuild from here or even if she truly wants to try, a question like Kara's could only ever have one answer.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

One year from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, one year from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which is barely even a moment at all. It's more like a dream, warm and faded and fogged in darkness, seconds stolen when sleep should have long since claimed them.

Kara's nightmare had woken them both. In the month since they'd pulled her out of the Phantom Zone, she hadn't slept alone once. Often, she stays with Alex, curling into her sister's side the way she would when they were just kids after one too many late-night horror movies. Once, she stays with Nia, tucked up snug in a borrowed pair of puppy print pyjamas.

Mostly, she stays with Lena. It's natural and unspoken and easy as breathing, the way Kara will show up at her place after a Supergirl save or Lena will let herself into the blonde's apartment after a late night in the lab. They cook dinner and watch Celebrity Masterchef and brush their teeth elbow to elbow at the bathroom sink and when Kara is inevitably tugged screaming and sobbing from her night terrors, the way she presses her face to Lena's neck and her hand over Lena's heart is natural and unspoken and easy as breathing, too.

Kara's racing pulse has calmed a little, her grip on Lena's body beneath her losing some of its urgent desperation. After a long moment of Lena's hand stroking her hair, of gentle reassurances and lips pressed to her temple the blonde pulls back, just enough to rest her head on the pillow facing her.

In the dim light filtering in through the bedroom window Kara's pupils are blown, her face solemn. There's something in her heavy gaze that Lena can't identify; something weighted and potent that prickles goosebumps up the length of her spine.

"Feeling better?” she whispers into the inch of warm air between them, reaching out to tuck a sweat-matted curl reverently behind the blonde's ear.

Kara catches her retreating hand and holds tight, twining their fingers together on the narrow swathe of pillow between them. If either of them were to move so much as a millimetre, their clasped hands would press against their lips.

The blonde nods and sure enough, the soft heat of her mouth brushes the back of Lena's knuckles. She shivers.

Kara is still watching her, the intensity of her gaze causing Lena's heart to thud hard in her throat. She squeezes lightly at the fingers threaded through her own. “What?”

A pause, heavy and sweet as overripe fruit. Kara blinks once, slow. “You're my best friend.”

Lena swallows down a sudden swell of emotion. The blonde nudges closer and when she speaks, the wet seam of her lips catches on the angle of Lena's bent knuckles, painting her skin with the words.

“You're the most important person in the world to me,” Kara whispers, breaths skating fire-flashes across Lena's fingers, voice muffling out past the mouth pressed to her skin. “You know that, right?”

Lena's voice deserts her in the wake of the quiet words. She leans forward instead, presses her lips to Kara's fingertips where they rest against the back of her own hand. It's answer enough.

She hears Kara's breath catch, feels the disruption mirrored in her own chest. Both their mouths are pressed to the joined hands clasped between them. If they were to move their fingers down even just a fraction, there would be nothing separating their lips but a promise, a prayer.

Kara's eyelashes flutter in the semi-darkness. The tip of her nose brushes Lena's own. Neither one of them moves their hands.

They only gaze at one another a long moment, and Lena wonders if the blonde is memorising the planes of her face the way she's memorising Kara's. She could look at her forever, be happy here with her forever, and in this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

For the first time, she wonders if she might not be the only one.

Right now, Kara is reaching across the table at Noonan's and taking Lena's hand.

It's been three weeks since they'd taken down Lex for the last time. Three weeks since Kara had stormed into the Tower's med bay to cup Lena's bloody, bruised face in her hands; since she'd brushed her thumbs feather-light over Lena's split eyebrow and purpling jaw and growled don't you ever scare me like that again. Three weeks since she'd leaned in and pressed her lips to Lena's.

It's been two weeks and six days since Lena, confined to a gurney but utterly uncaring thanks to the warm Kryptonian curled against her side, had pressed her aching face to Kara's shoulder and first whispered that she loved her. Two weeks and six days since Kara had first said it back.

It's been two weeks and five and a half days since Nia had walked in on Lena in Kara's arms, lips pressed to her neck and hands wandering beneath her sweatshirt, and promptly shrieked the place down. Since their friends had exchanged pointed glances and relieved sighs and congratulated them on finally making it official, their expressions ranging from overjoyed to exasperated to plain exhausted.

It's been two weeks and four days of she and Kara dating; of morning kisses and shared showers and the perfect partner at game night and all of Lena's wildest dreams coming true.

It's been less than a minute since Kara had admitted, hushed and wondering, that she'd known she was in love with Lena ever since she'd found herself suddenly prepared to poison National City's entire water supply rather than let Lena fall. That she hadn't been able to fully it admit it to herself until she'd found herself suddenly prepared to alter the course of all of history in order to get Lena back.

And right now, Kara is reaching across the table at Noonan's and taking her hand. She's looking deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice barely rises above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And now that she has, Lena is sure of her answer.

The highlight reel of her relationship with Kara lays itself at Lena's feet, each precious memory between them stretching out like a roadmap of her growing affection, with every hard-won step leading her right to this moment.

And in this moment, Lena knows. She's in love with Kara. Really, she always has been.

#sorry this took approximately 8932018207402 thousand years to materialise #if you've ever sent me a prompt and thought well fuck she's taking so long with this she's clearly forgotten about it i'm just here to say:#nope!#still here #unsure how inspired by the song this actually was in the end #it's either way too close to the lyrics or not close enough #who can say #but anyway yeah. supercorp song #thank your for the prompt and the lovely message! hope you like it #asks #anonymous #ridings writes #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers

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cellophaine · 3 years

Text

Home With You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3003

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I figured I should give you guys a break from my smutty contents lol. And I just wanted to write an indulgent fluff piece.

As always, every likes, comments, reblogs, feedbacks and ask submissions are greatly appreciated! My heart goes into cha-cha-cha mode whenever I receive notifications from you guys (it's a happy mode)

Prompt requested by: Anonyomous (love you anon <3)

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"Matt?!"

You called out as you walked into his apartment; the exhaustion crept into your voice. His name echoed back to you in the empty place, a tell-tale sign of Matt's absence. You huffed out a frustrated sigh as you stepped out of your heels, padding into the living room on bare feet, much to your relief. You dropped your briefcase to the floor with abandon, planting face-first onto the couch, releasing another weary sigh. This was the third night in a row you missed him on his way out, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. At this point, it had become a regular occurrence. You felt like you barely saw him as of late. All you had was the little time in the mornings with Matt's body wrapped around yours in the bed. And it wasn't enough. How could it be?

Your workload as a paralegal at Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz had picked up in the past few months. The pay was more than decent, but it resulted in more time assisting Jeri Hogarth in cases and less time spending with your boyfriend. The immense amount of guilt you felt kept building up, as you knew Matt was not happy about your situation, but he always knew what to say to make you feel better. You had spent time running around New York for researches, staying late at the office at Hogarth's requests.

The days would always end with you worn out to the bones. Matt hated how the job was clawing at you, chipping away a piece of you every day, leaving you stressed out and exhausted. But he was supportive anyway, understanding that it was your choice in the matter. And so, Matt was the only constant, comforting source in your life. He would be there every time you woke up, cuddling and kissing you, making sure that you had all your meals throughout the day, taking care of you when you couldn't do it yourself.

You dragged your enervated self into the shower, lathering yourself up with Matt's shampoo and body, indulging in his scent under the hot water. The clean smell of his soap in the shower steam helped relieve the ache of missing him in your chest. You had slept over his apartment every night. Still, ironic enough, you felt like you drifted away further from him, not of your own volition. Matt was the anchor that kept you close, but how long would it last? How long would he be willing to stay?

You patted yourself dry, walking into his bedroom, the air cool on your exposed skin. You opened the closet, pulling out a sweatshirt of his. You hugged it close to your chest, dropping your head low to inhale the smell of him. You pulled the shirt on along with his too-big sweatpants, tightening the strings at the waistband. You put on his socks, too, tucking them over the hems of the sweats, just like how he always did it. A habit of his that you had absorbed. A bittersweet thought struck you. Despite being in his apartment, often living in his space more than your own, you wore his clothes just to feel closer to him. He was close but never close enough.

You found your way to the couch again, plopping your head on the pillow. You curled into yourself, settling in a comfortable position. You didn't bother with dinner, for you craved something else. You just wanted him here. You wanted to spend every second you could get with him to make up for the time you had missed. You tried to stay up, waiting for him to come back. But the toll of the day pulled on your eyelids, luring you into sleep with much resistance from you.

A weightless feeling woke you from your sleep. You blinked sleepily; your hazy vision revealed Matt, still in his Daredevil suit, the helmet was nowhere in sight. His unseeing eyes radiated the comfort and affection you loved, and you hummed happily at the blessed sight of him. A smile pulled on the corner of Matt's lips as he laid you down on the bed, pulling the soft blanket over you. He brushed your hair off your eyes before leaning in, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled sleepily at his gesture, tilting your face up as his warmth left your skin. Your lips met his halfway, and you sighed into the kiss that you craved with the entirety of your being. You needed this, needed him; you yearned for him. Your hand found its way to him; his light stubble tickled your fingertips. You caressed his face, needing to touch, to feel him, as the kiss grew heavy. Finally, he pulled back from you with much reluctance, within your reach, just enough so you could hear his whisper.

"Have you had dinner? I left you your favourite in the fridge."

You pressed your head into the pillow before shaking your head, along with a muffled confirmation of his suspicion. His brows furrowed, and you quickly pulled on his jaw, drawing him closer. You resumed the kiss, and once again, Matt was the one who broke away. Lowering your voice in a soothing tone, you asked in the hope of distracting him.

"Do you have any injuries that needed to be looked at?"

"It was a pretty uneventful night. I know what you're doing, and it's not working."

He responded at once; his head shook slightly in disapproval. He knew you too well. You knew that. But you didn't want to get up while all you wanted was to bask in his familiarity, his warmth again.

"I had a very long day. I just want to go back to sleep, with you. Please?"

Your desperate plea tugged at his heart. His eyes softened as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Alright. But you will have a big breakfast, first thing when you get up."

You bit your lip, brows waggling at him, even though you knew he couldn't see that. A playful, suggestive tone glided into your voice.

"Oh, I definitely would like something 'big' for breakfast."

He let out a small laugh at your terrible tease.

"I'm serious. I was gone for a few hours, and you already neglected yourself."

"I promise. I'll be yours for the entire weekend. Now, can you get your ass in this bed, preferably naked? Pretty please."

He chuckled, standing up to pull his protective gear off. A few rustles later, the mattress dipped as Matt climbed into the bed behind you. He pulled you into his chest, pressing butterfly kisses on your hair. You turned onto your back, giving him easier access to your lips. He eagerly took you on your offer, pulling you in for a soft kiss, so soft that it made you melt into his embrace. He moved to kiss your cheeks, making his way to your eyelids, ending the kiss on your forehead.

"Sleep now, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up."

You turned to your side to cuddle into him, curling your hand behind his muscular back. You nuzzled your face into his firm chest, kissing and nibbling sleepily on the naked skin. You fell asleep promptly, grateful for the weekend ahead of you.

Your phone buzzed again and again on Matt's bedside table. You groaned, burrowing your face further into Matt's chest. The faint scent of blood and sweat, of Matt, infiltrated your senses through a daze. However, whoever on the other side stayed persistent; calls came in after calls. Finally, you untangled your limbs from Matt's with frustration, answering the call to hear Hogarth's voice on the other side.

"Where the fuck are you? Why didn't you pick up your damn phone?"

"It's… it's the weekend."

"And? This case won't go away itself. Come in now, or you're fired."

Your ears met with the dead tone from the other line. You fell back onto the warm bed, feeling like you could burst into tears. Pressing your face into the pillow, you muffled a silent scream. Matt propped on his elbow, caressing your back with the other hand.

"Stay here. Quit the job. You deserve so much better than how Hogarth's treating you."

You murmured.

"I can't. Her words have weight. She can really help me with my career. The pay isn't bad either."

"I know, but it's not worth it. I don't like seeing you bend over backward to every of her demand. I can feel your exhaustion every night. I hate seeing you so harrowed and stressed out."

You sighed heavily.

"It's not like I can quit right away. Not until I can secure a better job somewhere else. Rent in Hell's Kitchen is crazy. Until then, I'm stuck with her."

You moved around in the place, talking to Matt as you got ready. When you stepped out of the bathroom into the living room, dressed in your work attire, Matt walked over to where you stood, offering you a cup of tea. You smiled sadly at him, stroking his cheeks. Then, you raised on your tiptoe, kissing him swiftly before picking up your briefcase, making your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I can't drink the tea. I'm already late. I'll see you later tonight?"

Matt fell into silence; his head turned away from your direction. The mugs of tea in his hands stayed still and abandoned. You felt an awful jerk on your heartstring for leaving him like this. You spoke softly.

"I love you."

One moment of silence, then two. Matt reluctantly spoke, his voice small, barely audible.

"Love you, too."

You gnawed on your bottom lip in defeat, walking out the door. Your heart grew heavier with every step you took, carrying you further away from him.

When the elevator opened, you were working at your desk, just outside of Hogarth's office. You looked up just in time as the infamous P.I of Hell's Kitchen walked past your desk, sparing a glance towards you. You sprang up from your seat, running after her.

"Ms. Jones, I'm sorry, but you can't go in there. Unfortunately, Ms. Hogarth is not available at the moment."

Jones reeked of alcohol, but there was no sign of intoxication. She scoffed.

"I don't care if she's fucking another secretary in there. Step aside. I don't want to hurt you."

You stood in her path, taking your stance. Although preventing Jessica Jones from entering your boss' office wasn't your job, Hogarth made you do it anyway. She made you do many things that went beyond your responsibilities as a paralegal, as she always held her power over your head like an invisible sword, readied to strike at any given time.

Jessica rolled her eyes, sidestepping you. You stuck your foot out in her path, making her boot catch on your heel. She stumbled lightly, whirling around to face you.

"Seriously?"

You swallowed, shrugging.

"A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do."

"Maybe that girl should get another job and stop working for that monster."

Jessica quickened her pace, pushing the door open as you chased after her.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hogarth, but she …."

"… tired of your shit, Hogarth. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Jessica gritted out the words. Your boss sent a deathly glare at you.

"Leave us."

She flicked a wrist at you, and you closed the door behind you as fast as you could. You went back to your desk, speeding through your mountain of paperwork. About half an hour later, Jessica walked out with a menacing expression on her face, heading straight for the elevator. Jeri walked out about two minutes later, looming over your desk.

"If that happens again, I will personally destroy your little, pathetic career. You hear me?"

You nodded solemnly.

"Have them on my desk before 5."

Hogarth left you alone for the rest of your time there. You were done with the work at a little over 3 PM. You dropped it off, and it was refreshing to see a surprise expression on her face for once instead of the usual scowl you received. Then, you headed straight for Matt's place, couldn't wait to get back to your boyfriend, despite the little not-an-argument you had earlier that day.

He wasn't home when you got there. You sighed, afraid you had messed things up with him. After changing into something more comfortable, you sat down on Matt's kitchen table with your laptop open and a steamy plate of food Matt left you last night. You sat there, your fingers tapping away on your device for what felt like hours until you heard the sound of the door being opened. Matt walked in, dressed in his usual gym clothes with a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. His face was flushed, his hair stuck out adorably. You stood up, lingering at the chair. You cleared your throat.

"I'm… sorry for this morning. Are we … okay?"

You ached to hug him, to be gathered into his arms, to kiss him. Your bottom lip trembled slightly. You wouldn't know what to do if he said no.

He could sense your uncertainty with every word. His face softened at your vulnerable disposition, his arms opened wide, dropping his cane and bag to the floor with little care.

"Of course we are."

You lunged into his embrace, holding him tight as he picked you up easily, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You found his lips, pouring your heart and soul into the kiss. Eventually, you pulled away from each other as you gasped for air, your foreheads touching.

Matt lowered you down to the ground, still holding you in his arms, his hand caressing your spine in a soothing motion.

"I'm looking up other jobs. Hogarth is … horrible, and I'm always stressed out. You're right. It's not worth it."

"You know … Nelson & Murdock can use a helping hand."

Matt raised his brow at you; an endearing grin pulled at the corner of his lips. You smacked his chest playfully.

"As if I'm not helping you guys in my free time already."

You trailed a finger from the waistband of his sweats, ghosting over his abdomen and chest, ended your way at the pulse on his neck, stroking the delicate arc of his throat. Matt let out a small groan of pleasure.

"That means you already have an in with the firm."

You squinted your eyes at Matt while he feigned innocence.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I would love to have you there. We still have to discuss this with Foggy, but I think he'd be thrilled."

The earnestness in his voice was unconcealed. Working for Matt and Foggy was a tempting proposal, but you wanted to give it some thought first.

"Let me think about it."

The week started anew, with another visit from Jessica Jones. Only this time, you didn't cease your work pace, even as she walked past your desk. Jessica halted, looking at you skeptically.

"Why are you not stopping me right now? Did Hogarth call of her little guard dog?"

You looked up from your computer screen, giving her a nonchalant shrug.

"Nah, the order is still in effect. But I don't care."

The P.I gave you a nod and headed for Hogarth's office.

Before the workday ended, you were summoned by your fuming boss. Hogarth stood at her desk, a glass of whiskey clutched tight in her hand. She looked upon your entry, sneering at you.

"What part of preventing Jessica Jones from entering my office that you didn't understand? Do you —"

"I understand. I just don't care."

You dropped off the folder on Hogarth's desk. She narrowed her eyes at the manila envelope.

"This is my letter of resignation. I quit. I would say it was an honour to work with you, but that would be a lie."

You left the office that day feeling so much better than you had felt in months. There was a spring in your steps as you climbed the stairs to Matt's place. You walked in as an aroma of mouthwatering food being cooked engulfed you, welcoming you home. Matt was in the kitchen, facing the stove. You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Matt lifted an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in to kiss your forehead. Then, he turned off the stove, fully angled his body to you and gave you a warm embrace.

"So you did it? How did she take it?"

"She was furious, Matt. She threatened to make sure I could never practice law ever again. Over and over. But I'm not worried. She can threaten me however she wants. I know the law."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You're better off without her. And if she dared to do that, you wouldn't be alone. Foggy and I will have your back."

You hugged him even tighter, pressing your ear to the steady rhythm of his heart. You stayed like that for a moment as the sound of Hell's Kitchen played in the background. Matt buried his nose into your hair, peppering your face with kisses. Then, at last, he spoke up.

"So, have you given more thoughts on working for Nelson & Murdock?"

You made a tsk sound, tapping a finger against your lips, pretending to be in deep thoughts.

"I don't know. Wouldn't it make quite a scandal since I'm dating one of the bosses?"

"Considering the other boss already knows about the arrangement, no one else has to. We can keep a secret -"

Matt dipped his head; his lips brushed over the curve of your ear purposefully. The mere contact sent a shiver down your spine in anticipation. Finally, he released the last part of his sentence; his voice dropped dangerously low, dripped in an alluring invitation.

"- and have fun with it."

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock au #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #marvel imagine #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil au #daredevil imagine #daredevil fanfiction #cellophaine 100 followers event #no use of y/n

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Photo

Sometimes the girls butt heads, sometimes they tear each other to shreds. This got kinda long so im breaking it into two parts since i have two sketches for it anyways. Enjoy the gory angst under the cut my lovelies (and the sketch although kinda messy)

(Also in case there’s any confusion, here’s my hc on how the daughter’s mutations work. Just in case anyone looks at this and thinks why tf does she have weird bat wings)

Butting heads part 1 (p2)

“Shut up, Bela! Shut the fuck up!”

The shout, bordering on a howl, could be heard all throughout the lower levels of the castle. Cassandra was pinned to the wall by her older sister, an arm pressed firmly against her throat. She was thrashing wildly, talon tipped fingers ripping at anything they could reach. But Bela was more focused on the elongating sharp fangs snapping in her direction.

“Cassandra calm down-”

“No. You don’t know shit! Fuck you!”

Her skin was starting to turn ashy and thick, dark blood was dripping from her nose and mouth, some of it splattering on Bela’s face. The mutation was even causing her flies to destabilize, part of the swarm buzzing frantically around them, unable to find its place.

The situation was escalating quickly and Bela’s calm was cracking under her sister's talons. Too focused on keeping Cassandra in place, she couldn’t will her flies to break apart and reform when long claws were slashing at her arms. She could feel her own blood coating her skin and soaking her dress.

Even on a good day, Cassandra was physically the strongest. What she may have lacked in speed she made up for in sheer brute force. And that was when she looked like a semi normal human.

Daniela was well aware of this, so when she approached the two to help, Bela’s head quickly snapped in her direction.

“No, Dani stay ba-”

The small distraction was all Cassandra needed to push herself off the brick wall and come crashing down on top of her sister. Her hand was pushing down with all her weight crushing bone and muscle. A choked yelp escaped Bela’s lips when her sister suddenly bit down on her midsection, close to the bottom of her ribcage, and yanked her head back, pulling apart the blood soaked skin.

Then everything went black.

Bela could faintly hear a fourth voice drowned out by frantic buzzing. Were the flies hers or Cassandra’s? The heavy weight on top of her was lifted and all she could do was curl up and groan in pain. She instinctively tried to cover her abdomen but when her hand came in contact with exposed and torn muscle, pain shot through her entire body like a bullet. Her right arm also seemed to not obey her, pain joining in on the agony party each time she tried to lift it off the dirty floor. The floor had been clean before. Why did it feel so grimy under her body now? The only explanation that her hazy mind could come up with was that she was laying in a puddle of blood. Whether it was hers, Cassandra’s or both was up to debate.

A series of strangled growls reached her ears accompanied by a rushed exchange of words and the buzzing was starting to feel like static and everything was so goddamn loud.

She was somewhat snapped out of her haze when a pair of arms lifted her along with a gentle voice.

“Hey, hey, you’re good I got you”

“Daniela?”

Her youngest sister’s face came slowly into focus after realizing that her inability to see was caused by keeping her eyes tightly shut. She wouldn't normally allow such vulnerability but right now she was tired and the entirety of her upper body hurt and each breath was painfully ragged. So she defeatedly leaned on her sister’s shoulder and allowed herself to be carried to what she assumed was the infirmary.

----

A couple hallways away, Alcina was carrying her thrashing and growling middle daughter. Without another body to claw at, Cassandra resorted to sinking her talons into her own flesh, clearly in pain now. Her mother quickened her pace and finally ducked into a bedroom. It was one of the more barren rooms of the castle, with only a couple pieces of furniture and a large bed inside. It had no decoration that could be crashed into and cause her child any more injuries.

Cassandra was gingerly lowered on the soft sheets, Alcinas tenderness a stark contrast to her daughter’s violent shaking and clawing at the fabric on the bed.

Cassandra had yet to regain any semblance of conscious thought. All Alcina could do for her was sit beside her and wait for hunger to take over enough for her body to be too weak to exist in that state. She tried gentle strokes, but each touch, no matter how gentle, broke the skin into a small frantic swarm that seemed to struggle to find its place again. It felt like hours before Cassandra stopped spasming, but with how fast hunger settled in when the girls mutated it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes.

“Mom?” Her voice came out raspy and choked, probably due to the blood stuck in her throat.

“I’m here little one.”

Alcina tentatively stroked her daughter’s damp hair. When her form remained whole, she gently pulled her head in her lap.

“It hurts-”

Her complaint was cut short with a groan at the searing pain caused by hunger. She wrapped her arms around her midsection in an useless attempt to ease her own suffering.

Alcina winced at how Cassandra was dipping her talons into the skin of her abdomen, too delirious to realize that was only causing more pain. So she grabbed her hands and held them still.

Cassandra started to shake again, mumbling under her breath.

“We were-...were hunting and I” she interrupted herself with a sob “messed up. Bela an…. ‘m sorry-”

“Shh, it’s okay love. You need to focus on going back to normal now darling,” Alcina cooed.

Cassandra scrunched her nose and shut her eyes. She did her best to focus on the flies that formed her body, willing them to set back in their rightful place and to stop shifting and breaking apart. She had mild success and now the big frantic swarm was reduced to a smaller group of flies still buzzing about the room. The hunger and pain were still present as ever though, her bones and muscles breaking and tearing apart from the mutation’s effects.

Alcina praised her for regaining some semblance of control and told her something that fell on deaf ears. The next thing the brunette knew was that she was being shifted off her mother’s lap and out of instinct she grabbed the white dress in order to keep her near.

“Darling, did you hear me?” Alcina’s voice was soft and she waited until her daughter’s eyes were focused on her to continue. “I’m going to bring you something to eat. I’ll be back in 5 minutes.”

Cassandra only groaned in response, the mere mention of food worsening the pain in her abdomen. She nodded slowly and curled back into herself, allowing her mother to exit the room in a rush.

Left alone, she kept trying to fight against her own body. She could feel the sickening cracks of her bones placing themselves back in position. Her muscles felt like writhing parasites under her skin, shifting and twisting and occasionally falling apart into flies to reposition themselves. The hunger was the perfect cherry on top of the agony cake she was feeling.

It felt like an eternity before the door finally opened and her mother approached the bed with a big plate of fresh raw meat. Cassandra started to dig in the moment it was within her reach. She didn’t know exactly what body part she was chewing on at the moment but she didn’t care in the slightest. It took her no more than five minutes to finish everything, almost choking a couple of times.

She sighed in relief and let her head fall back on the now stained sheets. The pain was still present, but it felt more like a dull ache rather than jolts shaking her entire body. The comforting circles that her mother was rubbing on her back were also helping.

“How are you feeling, little one?”

“Better.”

Alcina smiled fondly at her daughter, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“Will you be alright on your own for a bit? I need to check on Bela-”

The brunette’s head snapped up, eyes wide. She had forgotten how this mess started in the first place and now that she remembered, guilt started to gnaw at her like the ache in her bones.

“I’ll come with y-”

“Ah ah ah, you will do no such thing. Rest for now, I’m sure she’s fine,” she lied. The image of Bela laying on the floor in a puddle of her own blood and her upper body almost torn to shreds was seared in her mind. The only comfort right now came from the fact that Daniela was taking care of her and, while unpredictable, her youngest cared deeply about her sisters and was more than capable of patching wounds.

Alcina planted another kiss on Cassandra's head and placed a blanket on top of her. She left her side with the promise of coming back shortly and exited the room, door left just slightly ajar so she could hear if her daughter called for her.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil village #fanfic #blood #gore

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l-strawberry-lawliet · 3 years

Text

Sniffle

L. Lawliet x S/I//Reader

Rating: Was General, now Mature

Type: Fluff and Smut all mixed together, oddly enough

Summary: Reader//S/I starts to get sick and L refuses to care about germs as he cuddles them and takes care of them. Technically gender neutral but with a DFAB SI in mind.

“No, don’t touch me, I’m sick,” I whined in protest as L crawled into bed with me. Not only did I not want him to see me when I felt so gross, I didn’t want him getting too close and making it easier for me to spread my germs.

“I’m quite aware that you’re sick,” he murmured, his arms sliding around me as he tugged me into his chest and nestled his face into my neck. “That’s why I’m here, to comfort you and take care of you.”

“But I’ll get you sick,” I protested weakly, my resolve already fading as I relaxed into his hold. Being around L always made me soft and weak. He held my heart in the palms of his hands.

“Mm, the likelihood exceeds sixty percent, but still, how could I leave my love to suffer?”

He kissed my pulse-point as he spooned me and I thought I might melt. “You don’t deserve to suffer with me, and you have a case, don’t you?”

His lips ghosting over the shell of my ear followed by the puff of his breath made me shudder. “Do you mean the case I just solved within five hours?”

One of his hands gently squeezed my breast, fingers lightly flicking my nipple through my thin nightgown.

“You already closed it?” Before he could answer, a vicious cough wracked by body, ripping itself free of my throat as I wheezed and sputtered.

“And I won’t be taking another for at least a week. My contacts know through Watari that I am taking care of a personal matter.”

“That’s one way to put taking care of your sick partner and intentionally getting sick with them.”

I could practically feel that small, self-satisfied twitch of his lips as he smirked, even without seeing his face. Another cough erupted, making me gasp as I scrabbled desperately for breath. The tickling itch in my throat intensified as the stream of coughing continued, lungs spasming helplessly with every breath I managed between gasps. L held me through it all, not flinching in the slightest.

When I finally regained control of my body, he eased me into an upright position. He allowed my tired body to slump against him, bearing most of my weight as he reached for one of the thermoses sitting on the nightstand. He unscrewed the cap and passed it to me, kissing my temple. “Drink. I made it for you.”

I unscrewed the lid, immediately hit by a combined sweet and herbal scent. Taking a small sip, I tasted honey, lemon, and ginger. The steam wafting from the mixture licked against my cheeks as I drank small mouthfuls in order to avoid scalding my tongue. It did an excellent job soothing my throat, some of the soreness abating almost instantly. I inhaled its fragrance again before replacing the lid, sighing as I handed the thermos back to L. “Thanks babe.”

He smiled, something soft, fond, and genuine, reaching out to caress my jawline with the knuckle of his index finger. “I do so adore seeing your cheeks flushed, just not like this.”

He kissed the side of my nose and I flinched back, still not wanting to drag him down with me. L, however, was having none of it as he cupped my cheek and leaned in for a kiss, thumb pressing on my bottom lip. His own lips were as soft as ever, his mouth just as inviting. My will to push him away faded, even when he slipped his tongue between my slightly parted lips. My breath quickened and I hoped to whatever gods were listening that I wouldn’t suddenly cough into his mouth. I hated making him sick. I wanted to push him off of me and demand he keep his distance when he guided me onto my back without breaking the kiss, but when one of his hands trailed up my inner thigh, my traitorous body parted my legs for him. Even sick I wanted him, wanted him to touch me. I craved it and he knew it.

“My my,” L purred. “No underwear, love? Were you secretly hoping all along that I would ignore your no-sick contact policy?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “No, of course not. I really don’t want to get you sick.”

“Too late, love.” He held my gaze as he penetrated me with three of his tantalizingly long fingers. I involuntarily clamped down on them with a soft moan. “Being that I have already been exposed, however, I think we should make the most of it.”

“Make the most of it?”

“Thoroughly.”

He lifted my nightgown with his free hand, meticulously placing a kiss on every inch of my breasts as his fingers worked, twisting and pressing and curling until my fists clenched in the blankets by my side, the muscles of my lower stomach and thighs tensing. “L,” I whimpered.

“It’s okay to let go,” he whispered, nose trailing along my collarbone. “I wanted you to come so you could get some proper rest and sleep well. After all, orgasm triggers the release of so many helpful substances: oxytocin, dopamine, serotonin, endorphins...”

The smooth current of his voice, so calm, so steady, so sure, washed over me as an orgasm hit, so intense that it obliterated the cough that wanted to form, my breath coming out in a ragged exhale. L’s fingers kept working as if trying to physically pluck the pleasure into the light. I was floating, mind clouded with a rush of bliss, but I still noticed when L’s weight shifted on the bed, his fingers receding from slick warmth. He curled up next to me again, drawing me into the circle of his arms with his fingers gently rubbing my clit. His nuzzled his cheek lovingly against my own. “Try to go to sleep now, love. When you wake up you can have some more soup.”

My hips bucked toward his hand, clit swollen and sensitive with stimulation even as my eyes drooped tiredly. “I love you.”

“As I love you.”

Already sleepy from my first orgasm, I went limp with euphoria from the second, fading from consciousness in L’s embrace as he peppered chaste kisses onto the side of my neck and stroked my embarrassingly sweaty hair away from my face. Maybe sharing my germs was worth it if it meant I could still fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat or his soft murmurs as he started to recite the details of his last case.

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cobaincreates · 3 years

Text

touch

warnings: freshly served smut :), oral (male receiving), 18+

count: 4k+

this is part one & wow i really did that. taglist is totally open by the way! let me know what you think!

— — —

what the hell was it about veins sticking out of an arm that had you nearly drooling? they shouldn’t be so attractive, yet here you were in a deep trance thinking about licking the prominent flexing of them in a specific forearm. you supposed it was your brain sending a slew of chemicals through your body, making your heartbeat spread from your chest to your fingertips. the longer you stared at the tiny mounds, the quicker the thrum of your heart spread to your center. science wasn’t really your strong suit, so you didn’t dare try to knit pick the core reason you were feeling a little (very) hot (and bothered).

if you could push down with the pad of your thumb at the peak of the vein, you’d most likely be grossed out, but it’d be intriguing to see it bloom back to its original place. you’d feel the warmth underneath the buttery skin, maybe even feel the pulse of a heartbeat. god, what you’d give to just—

“y/n?”

you jerked, eyelids fluttering as you processed where you were and why sarah was holding a large bowl out to you. the contents were leafy greens with pops of orange and yellow peppers. a few cherry tomatoes poked from under the blanket of lettuce. right, you thought, dinner. on the cameron’s boat. where you’d been for the past seven hours.

“you okay?” she asked slowly as your hands moved to life to take the bowl from her.

“mhm,” you hummed and picked out a good amount of salad to have. you then placed the tongs back in the bowl and held it across the table. catching sight of those veins from earlier, you swallowed thickly and flicked your eyes to a very interesting pepper.

“thanks.” sarah’s brother said as he lifted the weight from your hands. you swallowed again and sat up straight as the sounds of silverware scooping from dishes continued. once everyone had what they wanted and a conversation had started, you dove into your salad like it was your last meal on earth.

you stole a few glances directly across from you, your eyes skimming over rafe’s skin under his light blue t-shirt. it wasn’t helping that he was moving, making the veins pop more whenever he used his muscles in his forearm. you busied yourself with your food and nearly choked when rafe caught your glance. you thought you were being sly and not obvious in your stare, but you caught a glimpse of that tiny little curve at the corner of his mouth as he chewed.

you’d known the camerons for some time now, thanks to your parents mingling once you moved to the island. you had sparked an instant joy to having sarah cameron as one of your best friends and you loved her so much that it hurt even worse when you finally met her older, very infamous brother. it was like you’d been struck by lightning. you were left with a sensation you couldn’t quite put your finger on. sometimes it felt like the jolts of electricity whenever you caught his eye.

you weren’t in love. you knew that much. you were just very, very attracted to rafe. a perfect example would be your ridiculous obsession with the veins in his arms. god, why were they so addicting?

“what are you girls up to tonight?” rose, sarah’s stepmother, questioned from beside you. you chewed the food in your mouth, not quite tasting it as you waited for sarah to answer. you honestly had no idea what you planned to do during your sleepover.

“probably junk food and rom-coms.” sarah answered easily.

you were fine with the suggestion; it was usually what you two did during sleepovers. sometimes you’d sneak out to meet your friends at the boneyard, but it had been months since the last kegger and you weren’t exactly fond of the memory. maybe sarah would ditch you for a secret rendezvous with john b again, which would leave you in her room all by yourself. you could imagine yourself spread out on her floor, listening for soft shuffles in the hallway, and looking for rafe to come through the door. you shifted in your seat, coming back to reality on the cameron boat.

“when are we heading back?” wheezie asked, looking at ward at the head of the table.

“are we boring you?” rafe asked, causing your attention to shift from the youngest cameron to the oldest. and sexiest.

“i have plans tonight and to be honest, i'd much rather be anywhere but here.”

“you weren’t dragged on the boat. you had a choice to come just like any of us.” sarah said.

you looked at her then gauged wheezie’s reaction. she just sighed and sank into her seat. you pushed around a few noodles from the pasta salad rose had made earlier this morning.

“we’ll head out as soon as everyone is done.” ward said, reaching over to pat wheezie on the back of the hand.

sarah, wheezie, rafe, and you were on cleanup duty while ward prepped the boat to head back to tannyhill. you stacked all the dishes and brought them over to sarah at the sink in the makeshift kitchen. wheezie was on drying duty, leaving rafe to take care of the leftovers and cover all of the dishes back up. you watched for a moment as he picked up one of the dishes that was nearly empty and threw the rest out in the trash. you held your hands out for it to bring to sarah and he smiled at you.

“rafe!” you looked up at the sound of ward’s voice floating from above then over at rafe. “come up here please!”

rafe brushed his hands off on his thighs and moved around the table. “can you cover the rest?”

“sure.” you nodded and reached across the table for the pasta salad. a hot warmth appeared on your waist as rafe brushed past you, his hand touching your skin. you swallowed as the contact sent a whole heatwave through you and watched his back as he walked out onto the lower deck, his shirt brightening under the sun. going back to covering the food up, you turned around to bring them to rose who brought over the cooler. just as you did, you realized that rafe touching you had no correlation between needing to get by. he had perfectly enough space to do so in the dining area and kitchen. nothing was blocking his way.

—

“i'm really upset that i didn’t get to witness rob lowe in the 80s in person. like, really upset.” sarah whined with her hands over her eyes.

“he had no right with that hair and that stupid earring.” you said, arms crossed with a pout on your face.

“and that jumpsuit!” you both cried in unison then laughed loudly. st. elmo’s fire had been a whirlwind of emotions, strictly from rob lowe’s appearance. it just wasn’t fair to be born so late.

“okay,” sarah said as she snuggled further under her covers. “i'm exhausted.”

“no follow up with the outsiders?”

“say hi to rob lowe for me. night.” she said and turned onto her side with her back to you. the tv was still rolling the credits before you stopped it and got out of her bed to change the discs. you weren’t ready to sleep just yet. maybe seeing dally would coax you to dream of greased up characters played by actors who were now twice your age.

given that it was only eleven, it was too early for sarah to be going to sleep. usually she was all for staying up until three and munching on popcorn or playing a board game with dice. you knew she was only falling asleep early because john b had texted her about an early morning date he wanted to take her on. it was so disgustingly cute how quickly she wanted to sleep after reading his words. so while she fell asleep, you tried to focus on ponyboy and his dyed blonde locks instead of the veiny-armed off-limits cameron across the hall.

obviously, you failed. by the time it was nearing two and you already turned the tv off, you still weren’t tired. the ceiling wasn’t moving closer to you or providing any interesting details as you continued to stare up at it. your heart beat rhythmically throughout your body as you thought about the instance of rafe touching you today. you closed your eyes and felt his warm hand on your waist again, but then you felt it moving all over you. sarah made a small noise in her sleep as rafe’s hand was gliding over your stomach.

your eyes opened, his hand disappearing, and a huff leaving your lips. you looked toward sarah’s door, shut tight and separating you from her family, from her brother. you covered your eyes and rolled away from your sleeping best friend. you peeked through your fingers, looking where you last placed your phone and debating on sending an innocent text. maybe you could pretend you meant to send it to someone else. but maybe rafe would find it weird since you didn’t have a texting history with him. no, it would be too obvious.

rubbing your face, you sighed again and sat up. you needed a drink of water. the glass that sat beside you was empty from earlier and you and sarah had exhausted all the stashed drinks from your earlier preparations.

closing her door quietly behind you so you wouldn’t wake her, or anyone for that matter, you breathed a little easier and found your way to the stairs. about three steps down, you noticed a faint light from the ground floor, but you guessed it was a nightlight just in case anyone like you came down, looking for a snack or drink.

the tiled floor was crisply cold under your feet, sending a shiver up your bare legs and eliciting goosebumps on all exposed skin. you wound your arms across your chest for some semblance of warmth.

the chill you felt two seconds ago reappeared as you entered the large kitchen and found the source of the light coming from the fridge. it wasn’t a nightlight like you thought.

rafe stood there illuminated by the light, very shirtless and sweatpants hanging very low on his hips. you swallowed as you watched him munching on something.

“hey,” you whispered quietly so you wouldn’t scare him.

he looked over, stopping mid-bite. “hey. you okay?”

“yeah. just came to get some water.” you held the glass up as proof and stepped carefully to the sink installed in the island. rafe had a slew of condiments spread out on the countertop and you glanced over them curiously as you filled the glass. he had made himself a sandwich, the other half not in his hand sitting on a plate beside you. just as you turned the water off, his hand appeared and slid the plate over.

“you hungry?”

turning slightly and placing your hip against the island, you knew you needed something to lean on from the way he looked right now. as if you hadn’t just been thinking about him upstairs, it all came rushing back.

“don’t you want it?” you asked, taking a shaky sip from the glass.

rafe shook his head and swallowed his next bite. “i'd rather you eat it if you’re hungry.”

you looked away from him and picked up the sandwich, taking a small bite. rafe reached into the fridge and pulled out the pasta salad. fishing for a fork from the silverware drawer beside you, he leaned his elbows on the island and pierced a few noodles. you looked away from the muscles in his shoulders and took another bite in silence.

“it was nice having you on the boat today.” rafe said without prompt. you stopped chewing as you gauged his expression. “did you have fun?”

it was difficult to answer when he was looking at you as if you looked stunning in a tank top and sleep shorts. it was two in the morning. you should’ve been sleeping. but your heart leapt at his question.

“i did.” you nodded once you swallowed the next bite. you then thought about his hand on your waist and felt those shivers all over again like someone had opened a door behind you, letting the wintriest winter air in.

you decided on one more bite even though you weren’t hungry at all and now you were feeling rather nauseous with the way your stomach was rolling and leaping and doing all kinds of things. all the while, your heart started to beat louder in your chest. your fingers pulsed. rafe pushed off the counter, trapping the fork in between his lips to hold as he closed the container and put it back in the fridge. it was darker once he closed it, taking away any light so you couldn’t watch him as closely.

but once your eyes adjusted, you watched rafe come closer. you pressed yourself up against the counter, knowing that he needed to get to the sink when he took the fork from his mouth. you picked up your glass, taking a generous gulp. the water failed to distract you as rafe’s hand appeared on your hip, his chest brushing against you as he put the fork in the sink. your skin was totally exposed to his since your tank top had ridden up. you let out a shaky breath into the glass, your eyes closing momentarily until his hand disappeared and he stood next to you.

“why do you keep doing that?” you asked, your voice shaking a bit but you hoped he didn’t notice.

“doing what?” he busied himself with cleaning up the countertop. you stared at his back as he opened the fridge again.

“touching me.” you said. he turned to grab the packaged cheese, opening the drawer to drop it into. it annoyed you that he wasn’t paying attention or giving you all of his attention. “you’re either doing it just because or you’re trying to tell me something.”

rafe closed the fridge and gave you a questioning look. “you don’t touch people, rafe,” you clarified.

“how are you so sure?”

you wanted to groan about him playing dumb with you. why couldn’t he just tell you?

“because i've known you for a while now, at least i think i do, and i've never once seen you touch someone else.” rafe picked up the dish with your half the sandwich on it and tossed it into the trash. you stepped back so he could reach into the sink to leave the plate there. “so, what is it?”

“isn’t it obvious?” he questioned, frustrating you even further. you were getting confused, getting off track of trying to figure him out. you wanted to pull at your hair. why did he have to be mysterious all of the sudden?

“what do you want from me?” you questioned, hoping you’d get to the bottom of it. sure, you had ideas of what his answer would be, but you weren’t going to do anything until he told you himself.

your mouth nearly dropped open when he took your glass and downed a long sip. becoming angry, you reached up and took the glass from him, splashing a bit of water on his face from the sudden movement. he held in a laugh, water still in his mouth.

the grin fell from his face as you wedged yourself between him and the countertop. you knew you’d only done it out of frustration from his lack of answer. he was driving you crazy. rafe stared down at you, moving his hips away from yours very noticeably while his hands found your waist for extra measure. you looked at him almost daringly, trying to egg him on.

when he stayed put on his decision not to say much, you found your hands appearing over top of his. they were warm on your waist and under your palms. the hammer of your pulse started to feel like a cartoon character was taking a mallet and whacking as fast as they could to your insides.

you couldn’t describe how it felt touching rafe’s forearms finally after stressing over them hours earlier. if you had stayed a little while longer, you might have felt his own pulse through the vein. instead, you wanted to learn the contours of his biceps all the way up to his shoulders.

“this would be a lot easier if you just told me what you wanted.” you whispered like you’d done when you first walked into the kitchen.

rafe’s fingers dug a little deeper into your skin and his hips hovered over yours like they weren’t even there. you swallowed thickly and watched your fingers run down his chest, his torso that flexed faintly you thought you missed it like missing a sunset change color. rafe stayed still even as you traced his jutting hipbone down into his sweats. you lifted your eyes to his, finding his lips parted and slick. you licked at your own, watching his eyes never leave your face as you felt him through the fabric of his pants. he let out a shaky breath. his hips moved ever so slightly.

you stroked him once, painstakingly slow from the soft lift of his eyebrows. his eyes nearly slipped closed when his forehead sank to yours. it was as if he was so weak, he couldn’t stand to be touched. it made the mallet in your chest hammer harder.

the second time you stroked over him, tightening your grip a little, rafe let out a noise and shook his head softly against yours.

“what?” you prompted.

rafe removed a hand from your waist to catch your wrist. “not here.” he squeezed out and pulled away reluctantly before tugging you along.

you watched his back, taking in a few shaky breaths. you focused on controlling your breathing as he opened one of the french doors that led out onto the wrap-around porch. the air was cooler than the one you just shared with rafe. it was refreshing as it helped you relax. you heard a few chirps of the insects and the bloats from a few frogs somewhere closer to the marsh.

rafe led you over to the patio furniture. he sat down in one of rose’s white wicker chairs, creaking under his weight. he tried to pull you with him but wasn’t expecting you to sink down to your knees in front of him. he sat up in confusion, his hands resting on your shoulders as he watched you reach for his sweatpants. you needed them to come off, or at least be pulled down. you needed to taste him.

rafe’s hands slipped from your shoulders as he leaned back so you could tug his pants down. you bit your lip rather harshly as the sight of him. the whacking continued and sounded louder in your ears. you wanted to cry out of joy and laugh ridiculously at the vein running up the underside of him. you had to swallow to control the salivating, like a kid anticipating chocolate cake for breakfast.

the moon wasn’t even out, but you could see rafe’s arousal on his tip. you reached for it, wrapping your hand around him like a blanket. rafe heaved a breath.

“is this what you wanted?” you asked him, running your thumb over him and collecting the warm liquid.

rafe groaned. “oh, fuck. yes.”

you rubbed his thigh as your other hand moved over him slowly. the hairs tickled under your palm as you brought it all the way up and settled over his hip. you rubbed your thumb over him again, eyeing that vein that seemed to be taunting you now. rising higher on your knees, you looked up at rafe’s expectant and waiting gaze.

“tell me, rafe.”

you drew your lips between your teeth, waiting patiently for him to speak. he looked down at you between his legs and held back a moan as your hand moved over him. “i want you to suck my dick. fuck,” he panted in anticipation. “i want those pretty lips wrapped around me. please.”

you breathed in deeply with excitement, careful not to show it so you didn’t blow your cover of how badly you’d been wanting to do this. would he think it was ridiculous?

lowering your face closer, you dragged your hand to the base of him and pressed a kiss to his tip. you coated your lips with his arousal and wondered if he was coming undone at the seams. what did you look like, between his knees, on your own? you saw his hands reaching to grip the armrests at the precise moment you stuck your tongue out, finally tasting him. it was an innocent lick, probably showcasing just how anxious you were to have him in your mouth. but once you had that initial first taste, you were gone.

“oh, fuck.” he repeated, his chest heaving. you licked him again then traveled down the length of him in open-mouthed kisses. feeling that vein against your lips sent a large wave of shivers to your core. you hummed in delight to yourself without realizing until rafe’s hand appeared over yours on his hip. catching his eye at the right moment, you tilted your head upright, flattened your tongue on the underside of him, and licked all the way up that delicious vein. rafe’s face screwed up in agony, but you weren’t even done yet.

taking his tip between your lips, you applied the slightest bit of pressure. you swirled your tongue, moving your hand around him at the same time. “shit,” he said as his hips flinched off the chair in return, rutting into your mouth further. his fingers appeared at the side of your head, pushing into your hair. “fuck, baby, keep going.”

you did as he said, closing your eyes and willing yourself not to choke. you were unsuccessful as you gagged and recoiled off of him.

“go slow,” he coaxed and loosened his hold on your hair. your cheeks began to burn from the embarrassment. rafe rubbed soothingly into your scalp. you tried to relax; you didn’t want to stop now just because you couldn’t take all of him. you breathed through your nose and concentrated on taking him slowly. you took a little past his tip, sucking your lips around him. the second time, you took a little more and licked back up that vein.

“good girl,” he praised, reminding you that he was there and that you were doing okay. the phrase alone sent ripples down your spine.

minutes later with rafe’s grip on your hair not hurting anymore, he rutted his hips and pushed himself into your mouth. you took him, quite surprised at your ability to do so, but it felt good.

“y/n, i'm gonna come.” he gasped. the new opportunity had you rolling with determination as you moved your mouth over him. he groaned louder and for the first time, you thought about his sleeping family inside. god, what if you were caught? what if someone had already heard everything?

the possibility edged you on to go faster, to make rafe explode into your mouth. you then thought about tasting him, all of him, about how you’d have him in your system. it seemed weird almost, but you didn’t care as you listened to him coming undone beneath you and felt his fingers in your hair. he swore left and right just before you made your own noise, surprised, when he finally did come undone. he spilled into your mouth, coating your tongue. you slowed your movements over him, helping him through his high as his chest heaved.

you sank back onto your legs once you parted from him. you licked your lips, swallowing, and wiped the corner of your mouth. it was almost criminal the way you had the dark to hide your grin, like it was an accomplice. you looked up at rafe still lounged in the chair and felt another heatwave at the sight of him glistening in his lap. what you wouldn’t give to have another go.

“fuck.” he sighed to himself once he caught his breath. “where are you going?”

you looked down at him when you stood, adjusting your shorts. when you saw how he was looking up at you, you wanted to do everything you could to just crawl into his lap and stay there, to have the sun never come up. instead, you knew tomorrow had to come. “to bed. i'm tired.”

for a second, you pleaded with the universe to have him ask you to sleep with him. you wanted to walk upstairs hand-in-hand and close yourselves in his bedroom. you wanted to lay down under his covers, to have him touch you until the sun came up. but you knew you couldn’t risk that all in one night. you could wait, only if he wanted to.

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tales-unique · 3 years

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FAITH, LOST IV

Oh honey she starts off so spicy! Hence why it's all under a Read More since I don't wanna get done for showing the nasty straight out the gate. Minors better beware! ;3

Tagging the boos, for obvs reasons @chelseareferenced @buckysbaby1 hope you all like it! 😘😘

Chapter 4

It begins as soon as your eyes flutter open. The darkness, familiar, like an old friend, coerces your senses into a heightened state. Exposed, your skin prickles at the coolness of the room, writhing against soft sheets. You exhale in exhilaration; you know what’s to come. It starts small, a low thrum of electricity in the air that tickles your bare flesh. Then it builds, tantalizingly slow, a measured surge of power that has you twisting yourself in knots. You want more. Only He can give you more. His arrival is heralded by the scent of oil and whiskey, leather and smoke. It caresses you, embraces you, and sends you into overdrive. It’s instinctual, a primal desire. It corrupts your mind, the sequence disjointing in its take over. Thick boots echo on a wooden floor, your mouth falling open with a heated breath. Your back arches when you feel his weight dip the bed, heat radiating from him. The contrast has you trembling, body wired. His hands, strong and calloused, grip the backs of your thighs easily. A simple tug and you’re at his mercy, legs parting easily in his strong grip. You moan, he growls. He likes what he can see, those beast eyes glowing a dangerous red in the blackness. Sharp indents form against delicate skin, his claws marking your inner thighs. His little lamb, so sweet and so ready for the slaughter. Then there’s movement, the shuffle of fabric, the chink of a belt buckle. You tense, but you’re ready. The air surges with the oncoming crescendo, the room spinning, or maybe it’s you? You’re not sure, preoccupied with the molten heat that pools suddenly between your legs. You feel his grin, all teeth and tongue helping to blot out the sharp stab of pain. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned—

The sudden chaos of a burst steam pipe in the hallway outside your room abruptly shocks you from your slumber, a cacophony of sounds assaulting your sleep-hazed senses. You hear Heisenberg shouting, the scraping of metal being reshaped at will, the harsh hissing of escaping steam. Groaning at the rude awakening you flop back against the lumpy couch cushions, kicking off your blanket in protest. A light sheen of sweat covers your body, making your nightclothes stick to you in an uncomfortable way. As you stare up at the ceiling you try to decode the meaning behind your dream. You recall with an embarrassing amount of clarity just what it was you were doing and who you were enjoying it with. Humiliation blooms within you, coloring your cheeks a shade of scarlet. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t indulged in the past, you just never had desires so blatant before. Especially for someone who was your superior in every way. “Hey, you awake in there?” Heisenberg’s voice cuts your thoughts short. All the racket has stopped, there’s just the usual hum of the Factory. “Y-yes!” You squeak, stomach clenching uncharacteristically as you sit up, “I’m awake!” “Well get your ass up, we have work to do!” He claps his hands hard to exaggerate his point and you lament your new found torture as his footfalls recede down the corridor. Oh merciful Mother Miranda how were you supposed to face him anymore?

Heisenberg is, for lack of a better word, pissed. It surges through him and it shows in the haphazard, volatile approach he takes with his work. It isn’t rational, this level of response on his part, but he can’t help it. You’ve barely spoken a full sentence to him all day. Now, he’s under no illusions that you were going to become the best of friends. After all, you had been sent to him by Mother Bitch herself to be his servant and he knew that you were three sheets to the wind over this religious bullshit, but he’d thought that you’d been showing progress in becoming your own person. At least, you were , until that little incident where he had you pinned against his desk and decided to take his teasing to the next level. It isn’t often that Heisenberg considers that he may have gone too far with something, or someone , but he’s definitely considering the possibility now that you seem to be avoiding him wherever possible. You’d even brushed off his blatant last ditch attempt, an offer to accompany him to see his forge and the projects he’d been working on, in favour of praying to Mother Miranda. It’s the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen. You’d been so close to opening up, to no longer being a tool, but instead you’re become even more the meek little lamb of Miranda’s flock. Frustration bubbles within and his temper, short-fused as it already is, takes a critical hit. As a result everything he does has a sharp, volatile edge to it; even something as simple as opening a door is menacing in his current state. It serves to further deter you from him, giving you the space you so desperately desired. That is, until Heisenberg reaches his limit. “Just open up already! You can’t ignore me forever!” He thunders where he stands in the hallway, gritting his teeth in a vicious snarl. When he’s met with your persistent silence he howls in frustration, throwing his arms up in the air. The irony of him choosing to remain outside your door doesn’t go amiss, since it’s well known that he could easily rip the door from its hinges with the flick of his hand because of his nifty little ability to manipulate metal. Which, coincidentally, nearly everything in this Factory is made of in some form or another. But he doesn’t and you’re thankful for that, even if you still don’t want to face him. It continues on relentlessly, neither side backing down, and without realizing it, the whole thing becomes a game in its own right. One that pits you against one another to see who cracks first. So it’s a surprise when it’s Heisenberg that seeks you out first. It’s a situation of his own making, having followed you on the gritty live feed from his security cameras. With ease he catches you off guard on your way out of the elevator, taking your fright in his stride. “Easy now!” He exclaims, his hands raised in surrender. You’re cagey, looking for a way out. He isn’t going to give you one because he’s had about enough of you giving him the cold shoulder over a goddamn joke . You’ve pressed yourself tight against the wall, watching him like a hawk. He can hear the frantic flutter of your heart, the sharp intakes of breath, and his jaw tightens. He can’t get distracted now, he needs to focus — this was not the time to enjoy your distress. “Now I know that I can be a bit of a handful,” he starts, then falters, mouth working to try and word it just right, “but, really, hasn’t this gone on long enough? I didn’t mean any harm by it! Just a little teasing, you weren’t meant to get upset.” Oh, he thinks this is because of that time. You stare up at him in utter disbelief. You want to slap him. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt the innate burning desire to inflict bodily harm on anyone, but here you stand, about ready to knock those glasses right off his face. “You have literally no idea how you make me feel , do you?” You accuse him, incredulous, your posture straightening. Things might have slipped back to the way they were before all of this if he had just let you be, allowed you to warm back up to him, and maybe you might have been content with that. This was a turmoil of his own creation, after all, so why not let him stew in it a while. But now? Now you were at your limit. You’re tired of constantly tip-toeing around yourself because of him and his stupid games. If anything, you’re even more tentative to rekindle whatever this relationship is that you have with him, to throw in the towel and tell Mother Miranda she’d been wrong about you. It made you sour to think that what little progress you had made had been lost and it’s taken its toll on you. There’s a harsh look to you that has Heisenberg’s head spinning, apprehension gripping him. “H-Hold on a minute,” he attempts to defend himself, an uncomfortable blend of emotions sitting like a stone in his stomach. He’s conflicted over your new found confidence. You’re no longer the mild-mannered devotee that was wound around Mother Miranda’s finger, standing tall. You’re practically shining. It’s a good look on you, but he’s not exactly thrilled to be the one on the receiving end. “No!” You snap, squaring up to him. You see his brilliant eyes widen behind his circular glasses and for once in your life you feel powerful and in control . “I’ve done nothing but try my best here, trying to make something good out of this situation and you made me feel like a complete idiot !” The words feel heavy on your tongue, but you feel lighter now that they’re out in the open. Who knew that having your shame out in the open could feel so liberating. You take a deep breath when you feel the pinpricks of tears sting your eyes, trying to ground yourself. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him. Not in this lifetime, or the next. Heisenberg stares down at you with a look of realization on his face, now fully aware that there was more to this than your feelings of inadequacy, that you were little more than a joke to him. It’s always been there, in the way your heart races when he gets just that little bit too close or how your eyes soften when he’s agonizing over his work. He goes to speak this revelation but you shake your head, lower lip trembling. “I was just trying to help .” The way your voice breaks has him in a tailspin, the look of pure anguish in your eyes cutting him deep. This is in no way what he had envisioned when he spotted the chance to clear the air with you. “Oh come on, don’t cry!” It’s a desperate plea, something you never thought you would hear from him. “You’re making me feel really shitty here!” “That’s because you are!” You sob, unable to hold it back anymore. You feel like such a pathetic idiot. That overwhelming monster of self-degradation looms, fueling your misery. If only a dark abyss could just swallow you up and save you from this embarrassment, but you know that’s not going to happen. There’s only this awkward moment, lingering between you. You whimper, trying desperately to wipe away your tears. They stream down your cheeks, burning against your already flushed skin as you sniffle. Suddenly his hands are encasing your own in a firm grip. With a surprisingly gentle touch he tugs them down, exposing you. The whites of your eyes are marred with tiny lines of red and your long lashes clump together from your tears. You’re a mess, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he finds you oddly endearing in the moment. Swallowing, you try to understand what’s going on. Your hands are still held in his, the feel of soft leather almost comforting against your skin, and you wonder if you’re dreaming again. Something stirs in you, glowing embers kicking up from ashes, and you try to pull away. It’s an admirable attempt but Heisenberg easily catches you, holding you in a vice-like grip against him. You whine at the harshness of his grasp and he frowns, loosening his hold just enough to make it bearable. “I’m sorry, alright?” He mumbles, hesitating. It’s been so long, too long, since he’s been in such close proximity to someone who wasn’t prey. You aren’t fighting him, you aren’t trying your damnedest to get away. In fact, you look as though you’re captivated by him. It’s a side of him that no one has ever seen before, the dejection of a man twisted into being a monster. Something inside you breaks anew at how lost he looks, the last and most dangerous of the Lords at Mother Miranda’s disposal. He’s nothing more than a dog on a choke chain, to be used when it’s suited and then discarded afterwards. Just like you. “Heisenberg,” your voice is hushed, woeful. The words are so genuine and your heart isn’t yet made of stone to be immune to their plight. When you shift in his grasp there’s no resistance and you reach up to gently cup his cheeks in your hands. The stubble on his face tickles your palms and his skin is warm and smooth to the touch. You find you quite like it, the contrast of textures. He does little in the way to stop you. In fact, he encourages you. His hands find purchase on your hips, thumbs brushing the delicate spots just below your rib cage. It elicits a soft gasp from you, your body stiffening beneath him. Glistening eyes stare up at him, a swirling maelstrom threatening to drown him along with you. He’s curious whether or not you’re ready to commit to this. Heisenberg knows what you want, or better yet, what your body wants, but your mind eludes him. He waits with bated breath to see what path you will take, the uncomfortable feeling of anxiety creeping in his bones. It’s like poison, a crawling taint that threatens to take over him. What have you done to him? The exact same thing he did to you. It’s a disquieting notion, one that almost overtakes him, until it doesn’t. The doubts are suddenly banished and relief washes over him at the feel of your silken lips against his in a tender kiss. The chain breaks; you're both suddenly free, and it feels euphoric .

#RE #RE8 #RE 8 #Resident Evil #Resident Evil 8 #Resident Evil 8 Village #RE Imagine #RE Imagines #RE8 Imagine #RE8 Imagines #Resident Evil Imagine #Resident Evil Imagines #Karl Heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg Imagine #Karl Heisenberg Imagines #Karl Heisenberg x Reader #Heisenberg Imagine #Heinsenberg Imagines #Heisenberg x Reader

127 notes · View notes

rotshop · 3 years

Text

SORRRRYYYY i promise ill get 2 reqs soon,,,,it is just one of those times,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,fuxzzy brain momense

n e way here s this bc i am also haing another catperson moment. ill proof read this later maybe . who knows.

tw for one illusion to smoking / nicotine

You barely even heard your own growling. It was a lower and quieter one, you were sure it could be mistaken for purring if someone only took a quick glance at you. Though, the pinned back ears and light 'thump' your tail made against the floor was probably a definite indicator that wasn't right. To say that the frustration and irritation was clearly written on your figure was a complete lie.

You were a little too lost in your thoughts to really pay attention to anything else that was going on. Staring at the mess of cloth and fluff that was currently your bed, you allowed yourself to zone out. It'd all started with you tossing and turning for a little longer than liked. Sure, while you were out like a light most nights, there were some where you would stay up a bit longer.

This though? It'd been a little over two hours since you first dropped down, leaving your patience all too thin. At first, you'd deemed it was just you thinking too hard, shifting your thoughts to some lighter little story. Then, it was simply that you needed a drink of water. Then, it was some other thing. At some point, you'd figured that you were just uncomfortable ; either too cold or too hot, feeling bare and exposed or suffocated under the weight of your blankets, this or that endlessly.

With a little sigh you pried yourself from the depths of your subconscious, dragging yourself forward to try and fix things again. You knew all too well that you weren't going to accomplish much of anything, you'd likely just irritate yourself further and you'd end up just laying and staring at the ceiling all night. It definitely beat sitting there and listening to Sanford's snoring though, so it was something to do at least. Begrudgingly, you found your hands dragging blankets and pillows around once again.

Deimos was no stranger to waking up in the middle of the night, if anything he was more surprised if it didn't happen. It wasn't anything too bad, most times he'd just get up for a bit, get a drink or walk around, lay back down and conk out again. It was oddly peaceful in its own way, seeing and hearing just how quiet and still the base could be in the dead of night. He'd been able to train himself to pick up even the smallest of sounds on nights like this, so it wasn't difficult to pick up on all the shuffling.

He'd found himself padding over to your room quietly, just in case you really were just asleep. He'd learned the hard way just how spiteful cats can be when you wake them up before they'd like. Very quickly, he'd realized you were in fact awake, fidgeting endlessly and uncomfortably. He'd paused in the doorway for a moment before carefully drawing closer, you not taking any notice despite the little flicks your ears made at the sound.

With a grin, he'd leaned over you, placing his hands on your shoulders firmly.

"What'cha doin?"

You'd startled immediately, the beginnings of a louder-than-either-of-you-would-like yowl starting in your throat before he'd slapped a hand over your mouth.

"Hey- Chill out, 's just me!"

You'd glared back at him briefly, pushing his hand away from your mouth roughly as you ducked away.

"Yeah, thanks, I never would've guessed from the dusty-ass bandages. When was the last time you changed those?"

With a little frown at your response he leaned onto the bed, giving you a bit of space. "An 'Oh, hey my dearly loved friend, how are you doing on this wonderful night?' or something would'a been nice."

You'd scoffed a bit and rolled your eyes at that, turning back you attention to the tangle of your sheets. "Riight right, why exactly are you bothering me again?"

"Dunno, why aren't you asleep at the lord's hour of 3am?" He'd hummed, cynicism lacing into his voice.

You'd sighed, harsher than he'd expected, "Well- I would be asleep if it weren't for dumb luck deciding no! I don't get to get a wink of rest on some random night for no reason even though my survival kinda hinges on me, y'know, not being so tired I fatally fuck up."

He'd blinked a bit at your response, falling into silence temporarily. While most interactions between the two of you kept up a playfully argumentative and rough angle, there were times you both let that slip for a while. It was obvious this whole thing was getting to you a little more than you'd like to admit or at least more than you could without getting loud. So, with a glimmer of anxiety, he'd spoken up once more.

"You want me to help you?"

You'd paused briefly in your motions before looking back to him, "Huh? I..What do you mean by that? I swear, if this is some dumb shit now is not the time-"

"'M being serious!" He'd retorted, "Look, it's clear you're pissed and you aren't making much progress in here. So, why not just cut your losses and try and sleep in my room?"

You'd stared at him for a moment blankly, looking for something in his expression. He'd looked right back at you, ignoring that little bit of nervousness that'd tempted to make him waver in his ministrations. Eventually though, you decided you hadn't found it as you broke your gaze.

"Fine. Just let me grab my things first, you can go try and make sure it isn't a total wreck in there while you wait so I don't burst out laughing at the place and wake everyone else up."

He'd beamed at that, you having to bite back your own smile from the little bit of it you seen.

"Y'got it. Take your time, kitty!" he'd chimed before rushing off, nearly face first into the wall of the hall as he took off.

You'd allowed yourself some indulgence, smiling fondly as you heard his steps fade into the quiet of the night. Shaking your head, you'd turned to pluck a few blankets of yours up off the mattress, tucking them under your arm gingerly. You would never admit to yourself the way that you could feel how much looser you'd gotten after that. You would never truly acknowledge and affirm how you could feel the smile on your lips and the quiet little starts of a purr in the back of your throat.

--[ extra shit kinda maybe a little i GUESS ]

With a last little stretch you finally settled, a sigh prying its way past your lips as you let yourself go limp. You could feel exhaustion way heavy in your limbs and behind your eyes, words and thought beginning to fail you as you focused what little you had left on other things. You'd focused on the smell of nicotine that clung onto the ratted shirt he wore, the beating of his heart and the way he carefully dragged his nails behind your ears in little lines and circles.

"Y'comfy?" He'd asked, half-registering how quiet and gentle his own voice sounded.

You'd nodded lightly, nudging just a touch closer to him as his breath hitched.

"Yeah, thanks Dei."

"'S nothing, goodnight."

"Night, love you."

He couldn't help the grin that broke out onto his face at those words.

#experimenting w/ how i write deimos a little bit #by that i mean im making him scout tf2 voice #deimos x reader #madness combat imagines #madcom imagines #madness combat x reader #madcom x reader #rot writes

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fullmarvelheart · 3 years

Text

Crossing Lines (6/?)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x fbi!mob!Reader

Word Count: 5,199

Recommended: 18+ readers

Summary: A sudden and unsettling event rocks the underworld, and Y/N is immediately called in to prepare for what’s to come. What she isn’t prepared for is James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, also known as the new head of the Brooklyn mafia clan. When these two get shoved into a world of danger and deceit, will they ever learn to trust each other? Or will they be doomed from the start?

Warnings: Swearing, angst, a wee bit of fluff?, Grant Ward (because he’s his own warning), mentions of violence

A/N: Happy Black Widow Day! I’ve been waiting for this movie to come for so long and unfortunately I won’t be able to watch it tonight😢. But anyways, here’s part six with a surprise character😉 (literally didn’t think of adding her until yesterday). Hope you guys enjoy! This has not been beta read at all. All mistakes are my own. The GIF is not mine, so credit goes to the original creator!

Series Masterlist

“Skye, come on! Why the hell did you drive off to the middle of damn nowhere?”

“Just trust me.” She says calmly as she parks the car, completely ignoring my outburst in the process. “And stop complaining, Y/N/N. I know you had another fight with your dad, so I know you wanted to be out of the city.”

“Fine, ok. But what is going on? I’m guessing Ward has no idea what you’re doing.”

“You’re not serious, right? You know he hates me doing anything remotely dangerous.”

“Not that I’m against going behind your boyfriend’s back, but what did you do?” I ask my, running my fingers through my hair.

“So, you know how Ward mentioned HYDRA’s top runner, Crossbones, the other day?” I nod. “Well, I got curious. We know nothing about him, and Ward thinks he can set a trap for him. I just, I just don’t want him to get hurt when I could have done something.”

“And you know if you did this at the Bureau, he’d find out somehow and stop you. Or Gonzales would.” Now she nods. “Alright, but I’m helping you with this. I’ve got a weird feeling about the whole thing and as your partner, it’s my job to keep you safe.”

“You worry too much.” She chuckles. “Besides, I’ll practically be behind my computer screen the whole time. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“You’re right, I guess. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop worrying though. And why are you still with Ward?” I groan dramatically, causing her to laugh.

“Oh, be nice. He’s not bad once you get to know him.”

“I don’t know. Something about his arrogance just doesn’t settle well with me.” I shrug.

“You’re being over dramatic. He’s great!”

“He better be, he is dating my best friend after all. Now let’s find the next exit, I’m hungry!”

Her laughter echoes in my head as the car moves along the highway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stomp through the halls on a mission. The office was empty, and disturbingly dark and stuffy for nine in the morning. If he’s not in his office there’s only one other place I could imagine him in, his bedroom.

“Please, don’t kill me for this.” I mutter to myself before taking a deep breath and throwing the door open.

My eyes scan the room and zero in on the lump underneath the covers.

“Go away, Steve.” His usually pleasant rough voice is mixed with hints of sleep and something else. I can’t help it that my inner self finds it sexy while I try to stay concerned rather than turned on.

Now’s not the time for a daydream. Focus.

The door shuts with a soft click, giving him the impression ‘Steve’ left. You aren’t that lucky today. I’m no push over! My boot clad feet thud on the wooden floor as I march straight towards the end of the bed. With one strong grip at the end of the comforter, I yank the sheets off his body before turning towards the curtain clad windows.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He screeches, trying to pull the blankets back up to cover himself from the cold air of the room. That was nothing. “Hey! What the hell is this, Rogers?” I pull the curtains open; the intense sunlight illuminates the room causing even me to briefly squint.

After successfully finding a single blanket to cover back up with, I notice the fact that Barnes had curled himself into a human ball in the middle of his mattress to block out the light.

“Oh, for fucks sake.” I groan, grabbing onto an edge piece of the fabric. “Get up, now!”

I try to yank it off him in one swift motion, again, but he’s faster than I thought. He springs up into a sitting position, latching on to the blanket I almost had off him, commencing a tug-of-war over the stupid thing. The muscles and veins in his arms flex and bulge, and in normal situations, I’d be impressed. But I’m getting irritated.

“You’re an absolute child.” I grunt as I fight with him.

“Let go, you heathen.” He counters.

At his command, I let go, causing him to fly backwards and bounce slightly on the mattress.

“Dangerous mob boss my ass.” I chide, crossing my arms as he just looks at me with disbelief.

“What do you want, Fury?” He groans, rubbing his eyes.

“Too much for you to comprehend at the moment but let’s start with this. How about you get your head out of your ass, get out of bed, and do your damn job?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“You wouldn’t understand, Fury. And you’re crossing a line here. Get out.”

“It’s Maximoff to you right now. And what don’t I understand, Barnes?” I ask, ignoring his other remark.

“You have some nerve, coming here, into my room. Now get out.” He growls, tossing the blanket away, exposing me to the fact that he sleeps only in a pair of boxers. Damn, suits really don’t do his body justice, but damn does he look good in either.

“You have some nerve thinking this doesn’t concern me.” I snap back, regaining my focus, glad he didn’t catch me staring or was too annoyed to notice.

“And how,” He starts, finally standing up and slowly walking towards me, “Does this concern you?”

His muscles bulge as he crosses his arms, stopping at the foot of his massive king-sized bed. Though, there is an unsway of his body, and the shakiness that was in his hands that doesn’t evade my attention. Where I once noticed stubble, an unkept beard lies in its place. His hair looks knotted, unwashed, and greasy. Overall, he looks like an absolute train wreck.

“How does it not? Furthermore, how does it not concern you?! Barnes when did you last have a full meal, let alone showered!?” I exclaim, looking him over more closely. I can barely see the fact that he’s lost weight, but it’s there, it’s noticeable. The lack of a hot shower is more than just noticeable though.

He scoffs again.

“This is none of your business. Leave.”

“Stop being so fucking defensive with me. And this is my damn business, or have you forgotten the deal you have with my father? With Brooklyn on uneasy ground, especially after losing their last leader, you’re a target for HYDRA to attack. Not to mention the threat of the other mafia clans. And you know damn well that if my father has any idea that your alliance will cost him more than benefit him, he’ll watch you be fed to the sharks. But it just so happens that his daughter is in your territory, which gives you just a bit more wiggle room. However, if you put me in danger, he won’t just watch, he’ll feed you to the damn sharks himself!”

“I know!” He yells, walking closer to me.

“Then start acting like it.” I hiss.

“You don’t understand!” He argues, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Understand what?!”

“I can’t do this without him!”

The room falls into silence, and I stare at him, stunned.

“Okay? I can’t do this without my father. Yes, he’d been preparing me for years. But I always knew I could get advice from him or help if I needed it, once I took over. But this, all of this. I don’t know how to lead my men; I don’t know how prepare us. I don’t even have time to grieve the fact my father, not my boss, is gone forever, and I don’t know how to do this without him.” He chuckles dryly, hands on his hips. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.” And he’s turning away from me.

“You’re wrong.” I cringe at how shaky and quiet my voice comes out.

“What?”

“You’re wrong.” I repeat firmly. “To think I don’t understand.” The sting of tears forming in my eyes has me pausing to close them and take a deep breath.

When I open them again, Barnes faces me properly with a look of confusion and mild concern.

“No one knows exactly what to do in these situations. But from one ally to another, you have your training, and the people you trust to help you figure it out. And you have your friends. It might not always work the way you planned, but nothing ever really does. You aren’t the only one grieving the death of your father, the men also adored him. Keep that in mind.” I pause, watching him work through what I said to him. “But don’t you dare ever assume I don’t understand grief.” I sneer. “Or how to continue on with the weight of it constantly on my shoulders. You don’t know me. So don’t act like you do.” He gapes at me, like a fish. “Get your shit together Barnes, and get to work.”

I walk out of his room as quickly as I can, letting the door slam behind me. Two corners later and I finally let myself slump against the wall. I gasp for air I didn’t know I needed as I fight back the tears trying to escape. It’s been six months! It was just a stupid dream! Get it together!

When my breathing returns to normal, I pull out my phone. The message from the unsaved number glares at me as I ignore it, again, and type out a message to another party.

“Meet me at the shore this afternoon. More details will be given soon. Bring the info you have gathered and don’t tell the boss.”

The response is almost immediate.

“Understood. He’s getting antsy about the report...”

I groan to myself as I push off the wall. He’ll just have to wait longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The zippers of my backpack nearly shriek as I pull both of them together quickly. I’ve been frustrated with my more legal job before, but this is something different.

Why the fuck are they making me go to a check in with the case officer this early? A month! I’m supposed to have a month to gain traction and trust in the role they requested of me! They should know that it isn’t safe to possibly expose an undercover operative at all, why would they risk it this early on?!

I growl to myself under my breath as I lace up my boots, aggravated that they’re risking the objective of this mission. If I get made, my father will also lose the alliance, HYDRA might learn of my role in the government and go into hiding, and that’s a lot of fuck up that doesn’t need to happen. Gonzales better either know what he’s doing or have good intel for me.

I swing the backpack up on my shoulder, just as someone knocks on the door.

“Give me a second.” I call, letting the pack flop onto my bed.

I’m surprised to find Natasha on the other side of the door, waiting with her arms crossed patiently.

“Come on in.” I say before she can speak, nodding to the inside of my room.

She raises an eyebrow in suspicion but walks in anyways. She turns to face me just and the door closes.

“All I was going to say was that Barnes is requesting everyone to head to the warehouse, but I’m guessing there’s something else?”

I nod. “I got called for a check in.” I tell her with an eyebrow raised, not needing to tell her who I’m referring to.

“This soon?”

“I’m hoping to get something worth the risk for this, but my gut says otherwise.”

She hums to herself in thought as she processes.

“I can get you a cover this time.” She states sharply. “But they need to get their act together. The cover might work just enough, but there are still people in here who don’t trust you, yet.”

“They might never.” I shrug. “But I agree with your risk assessment. I’m prepared to chew out whoever it is.”

She smirks, then motions towards my door. “Get to the warehouse and leave your things here for now. I’ll make the arrangements.”

I give her a small smile before we’re both walking off in different directions.

The warehouse is packed with people, many of which I don’t recognize, all of whom are engaging in loud conversations. I begin to push my way through the crowd, though I don’t make it too far as I feel a hand grab onto my arm. When I turn towards the pull, Drax smiles at me, motioning for me to follow him. I laugh quietly to myself as people practically jump out of Drax’s way. When we stop, I spot Carol not too far away and walk over to her.

“For the record,” She says, not even looking at me. “This is odd for us too.”

“Is this everyone?” I ask, confused.

She scoffs. “No, there are still those on patrols or jobs that aren’t here. But I’m sure they’ll be brought up to speed, on whatever this is, later.”

I hum as an answer, my eyes scanning the crowd of faces, seeing who I’ll recognize. I just make out Rollins’ silhouette as the voices begin to fall silent. Barnes stands in front of the gathering on a small platform, Rogers and Wilson flank him on either side. He looked a lot better than what I saw earlier. His beard trimmed back to a five o’clock shadow, his hair washed, brushed, and tied into a small bun behind his head, and there was strength in his body showing that he was able to eat since I last saw him. If I hadn’t seen him this morning, I wouldn’t have believed anything was wrong in the first place.

Standing behind the three mafia men, I see Barton, the two Odinson brothers, and five other men and one woman that I don’t recognize. Natasha casually merges in with the group at the last second.

“Many of you have taken note of my absence recently.” Barnes starts talking, his voice booming across the warehouse, commanding everyone’s full attention. It sends a thrill down my spine that I suppress. “And I am aware of the rumors that have been spreading regarding such absence.

“I was reminded earlier today that I was as close to my father as he was with many of you, maybe just a little closer. And yes, I’ve been grieving. But that grief has not blinded me to the enemy that is still out there, just as it has not blinded you.

“The enemy that has let their guard down because HYDRA thinks it has weakened us!” Grumbles of disapproval make him pause. “But they have not weakened us! This clan, this family, is not weakened by the grief of our leader. We are angered, enraged, that they dare try to cross us.” He pauses, listening to the murmurs of agreement of his people. “They have no idea what awaits them. Since the fall of George Barnes, they’ve expected us to kneel before them, begging for mercy. But they will be the ones begging. Their days are number because we will find them, and we will bury every last one of them as we watch HYDRA burn!”

The men begin to shout out their support, the roar almost sounds deafening to my ears, but I follow their lead, yelling with them. Barnes holds up his hand, and the crowd silences.

“Get a move on. We have work to do.” The warehouse erupts in applause, shouts of affirmation, threats to HYDRA, and anything of the sort.

The men begin to clear out of the warehouse, and Carol motions for me to follow her before walking towards Barnes.

“It’s good to see you again, boss.” She tells him with a smile, one he reciprocates before glancing at me. “I was wondering if I’d be able to take new girl around for a drive. Just to show her around our territory.”

“That’ll have to wait, Danvers.” Natasha cuts in, before turning to me. “Let’s go.”

She’s walking away before Barnes or Danvers, who both share a curious glance with me, can say anything. I only slightly hesitate before hurrying after her.

“Thank you.” I mutter once we’re out of the warehouse.

“Don’t thank me, yet. The boss will have questions.”

“Hopefully it’ll be worth it. If it isn’t, I’m gonna chew out whatever unlucky soul is sent.”

“I have no doubt of that.” She replies, and I can hear a hint of a smirk in her voice.

We near one of the doors that serve as an exit to the base, and I see my backpack sitting at the bottom of it.

“Know you way around?” She asks as I swing the backpack over my shoulder.

“Well enough. It shouldn’t be too hard.” I say, shrugging.

“Good. If you do get lost, call me,” She hands me a piece of paper with a number on it. “And I’ll sent someone for you. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” I nod, folding the paper up and slipping it in the back pocket of my jeans.

She nods back, then walks away. I take a deep breath before throwing the door open and walking out in the direction of the nearest subway. When I’m a decent way away from the warehouse, I pull out my phone.

“Brooklyn Bridge Park, Pier 2, two hours.” I press send on the text before placing a call, one I admittedly should have done earlier.

“About damn time!” I cringe at the tone in his voice but carry on as if I didn’t piss him off.

“I thought I wouldn’t have any contact with the Family. But everything’s going well. There was a slight issue, but I handled it and everything’s back to the way it should be.�� I say over the noise of the street traffic.

“What issue? And why are you calling in public?”

“I was called in.” I grumble into the phone.

“Already?”

“Yes, but I swear if this is a waste of time, whoever I’m meeting is getting an earful.”

“I’d be concerned if they didn’t. But what issue?”

“It’s been fixed, it doesn’t matter, but I need a copy of the contract.” I state firmly, hopefully distracting him from the other thing.

“Y/N, you know-”

“Father!” I take a breath, so I don’t start arguing with him in public. “I need that copy. If I’m going to be doing this, I need to know every single condition, and every term.”

The other end of the line is silent, and I know he’s thinking things over.

“Alright. But in turn, when I ask for an update, you give me one that fucking day. Understood?”

“Yes.” I mumble, hating feeling like a scolded child.

“Good.”

“I’m getting on the subway, I have to go.”

“I expect an update tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.” I hang up the phone and let out a deep sigh before walking down the stairs.

As the subway approaches, my phone chimes and I glance at the text.

“Understood. I’ll see you there.”

The meeting place my case officer chose, a quaint little coffee shop, is two blocks away from my stop. The amount of people on the sidewalks has me wishing for my bike as I squeeze in between people, and there are several times I wished to shove the slow walkers out of my way when I couldn’t pass. Honestly being stuck in traffic was a bit more enjoyable to being stuck behind of group of gossiping women.

I come up to the corner of the street, where the shop is located, and spot its cute little sign. As I cross the street, I happen to take a glance in the window and immediately find a face I recognize.

“You got to be shitting me.” I growl to myself.

The door chimes as I walk through, and I head towards the table.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I grumble as I take a seat, using the heel of my boot to put pressure on the toes of his foot.

“Right, well,” He coughs, covering up a wince as he pulls his foot away from mine. I smirk to myself. “Considering I called for this, I’m not really surprised.”

“Ward, you son of a bitch.” I hiss, quiet enough not to draw attention, as I kick his shin sharply. “You’re an idiot. You better have a good reason for doing this Grant.”

He visibly winces and adjusts himself before clearing his throat to address me.

“As your case officer, I don’t need to explain this to you.”

“You do when you compromise my position. This was way too early!” I hiss before clearing my throat, remember not to cause a scene. “Do you have information for me or not?”

“We’ll get to that in a second. Look, if Skye was still alive, she’d want-”

“Yeah, well she’s not here. How does your new girlfriend, what was it, Kara, feel about you still being hung up on your dead ex?”

“Do not bring her into this.” He hisses, before straightening up and burying any hint of annoyance until there is barely any emotion visible on his face. I hate when he does this, it unnerves me how easy it is for him each time. “Here.” He states before putting a thin file on the table for me to grab. “This is everything that we’ve been able to find out about them recently.”

I swipe it off the tabletop and gently toss it into my backpack, without opening the folder.

“Hopefully, I don’t see you again anytime soon. This better not become a regular thing with you.” I mumble before getting up and ordering a cup of coffee to-go.

As I walk out of the store, I almost bump into a blonde woman that was on her phone. Luckily for both of us, the coffee didn’t spill. After a few seconds of hurried apologies, and foreign curse words on her end, I hurry to the station, hoping I won’t have to wait that long for my ride.

When I get to the park, I decide to wander around for a little bit. It feels good to be out in fresh air inside of being inside a building for the entire day. The clouds look fluffy and soft, the breeze is cool on my face, and the sun feels just warm enough to enjoy without sweating to death. I stop once I get to Pier 2 and just find myself leaning on the railing of the pier, looking out onto the river and the skyscrapers on the other side.

While I wait, I decide to enter Natasha’s number into my phone, then letting the piece of paper fall into the water of the river, the safest way to dispose of it. After I can no longer see the white of the paper, I return my gaze to my father’s city.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you like this.”

“Like what?” I ask, looking towards the voice.

“Content. Happy, even just a little bit.” She says with a small smile while moving to stand beside me.

“It’s the little things like this that make me happy, May. It helps me forget about the mess that is my life, even just for a few minutes.”

She hums and we just stand in silence for a moment.

“What have you been able to find?” I ask, breaking the silence and going into business mode.

“Not much. I doubt it’ll be much help to you.”

“A little may be what I need. I still have some of her research. At this point I just need anything on him.”

“Having nightmares about her again?” She asks, concerned.

It causes me to smile, even just a little bit. Sure, my father hired her, but she has always remained loyal to me, more so than to the family. Though, I have no doubt that if she had any concern about me, she’d go talk to my father.

“More like memories. Still, they leave me feeling restless because I haven’t been able to find a lead on this guy. Skye was getting close, I know that. Which is the only explanation as to why she was killed.”

She hums again. “Still not planning on telling your father?”

I scoff. “After he basically called me paranoid for looking into Ward? No. If he finds out I haven’t let this go like he thinks, he’s going to ask questions. Questions I’m not ready to answer. Not only that, but if he finds out I contacted you while on assignment, I’d get my head chewed off. I’m technically not even allowed to contact him, yet here we all are.”

She nods with a slight chuckle, then pulls a file out from underneath her jacket and hands it to me.

“I’ll keep checking in with my contacts on the street to see if anything new about him surfaces, but until then, this is all I have.”

I stare at the closed file for a moment, before sliding that into my backpack as well.

“Thank you again, May.” She smiles briefly before nodding.

“You should get out of here, before anyone questions why you’ve been gone for a while.” I nod and push away from the railing. “Oh, and Y/N?” I turn back around. “Stay safe.”

“You too, May.” I call back, walking away.

A flash of blonde hair in the corner of my eye has me pause for a second, but when I see nothing, I shrug to myself and keep going. It must have been in my head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door to my room shuts and I feel my body sag from the exhaustion of the day. I let my backpack slip to the ground with a soft thud and shuffle towards my bed. When my back meets the cool sheets of the mattress, a deep sigh escapes my lips and I close my eyes, finally enjoying a bit of rest. But, there’s a knock at my door that has me groaning loudly.

“Of course.” I grumble under my breath.

When I open the door, I’m very surprised to find Thor standing on the other side with a slight scowl on his face.

“Follow me.”

I do so, hesitantly, letting the door slowly click shut before catching up to him. The walk is silent, and for some reason, I feel uneasy for the first time since I walked in here. He leads me through the halls, and I find myself recognizing where we are going. James Barnes’ office.

Thor opens the door and motions for me to step inside, and I do, trying to maintain a façade of confidence. And I’m grateful for it, because the glare Barnes wears as he watches me enter almost has me reeling backwards. He sits behind his desk, looking regal, deadly, and in charge. No trace of friendliness shows on his face.

What really throws me for a loop is the petite redhead curled on his lap, her well-manicured nails raking through his hair in almost a possessive manner. The sight makes something churn uncomfortably in my stomach, and by the smirk on her face, she knows it too.

I look away from her, finding Rogers and Wilson in their places behind Barnes, leaning against the wall. Natasha stands off to the right, near the only window in the office.

“Dot, leave.” He says stiffly, not removing his gaze from mine.

“But Bucky Boo-”

“Now.” He growls, ignoring her high-shrieked protest. This is the infamous Barnes I’ve heard about on the streets.

She huffs in irritation, untangling herself from Barnes’ lap and starts stomping out of the room like a child throwing a small tantrum. She brushes past me, giving me the death glare on her way. I simply raise an eyebrow at her retreating form until the door shuts behind her.

“Lovely person, Bucky Boo.” I mutter under my breath, turning back around. “I haven’t looked at the information I was given, yet. I only just got back to the compound.” I say to Barnes, assuming that’s what got him so miffed.

“How was the meeting?” He asks, completely ignoring my remark, irritation still evident.

“I wanted to shove Ward’s head through the window only a few times. So, fairly well, I guess. Still pissed off he’s assigned as my case officer though.” I shrug still not seeing the point of this.

I see Barnes’ eye twitch and hear the soft click of the door closing. I turn around to see the blonde that I almost walked into on the sidewalk from earlier, and everything falls into place. With a click of my tongue in understanding, I turn back around towards Barnes.

“You had me followed.” I state.

“Yelena Belova, Nat’s sister, was sent to keep an eye on you. Make sure you stayed safe.”

“Hmmm. Interesting.” I hum towards the ground, frustrated that I didn’t see that coming earlier, as my hands find purchase on my hips, my nails digging into the fabric of my shirt.

“Imagine my surprise when I got a message saying you weren’t on your way back after the drop off, but was going to meet someone else.”

“Yeah, and I’m not telling you why.” I fire back stubbornly, my hands still on my waist.

Barnes blinks rapidly, shocked, because I didn’t deny it, that I said no to him so easily, or maybe because of something else completely. Whatever the reason, he recovers quickly. A scowl now twisting up his features.

“We had a deal with your f-”

“I’m not the one that needs reminder of that deal, it seems.” I snap. “What I did today, was for reasons you aren’t entitled to.” His scowl deepens. “Now, I could give you some information about it. If you were to tell me something in return.”

“And what’s that?” He growls, but willing to play my game.

“The last crate I picked up on my assignment.” Recognition dances over his eyes. “Yeah, it’s about that. Tell me what was in there because I know for a fact it wasn’t the shit on the manifest. That was just a cover. You tell me what the shipment was, and I’ll tell you what I was given.”

He clenches his jaw, but doesn’t say a word. I wait for a moment before nodding, more to myself than him.

“You’ll get the info the Bureau sent me, once I make sure it’s actually useful.”

I turn and exit the office quickly, no one saying a word to me before the door closes. My nails dig into my palms as I stomp back to my room, pissed off at the day I’ve had. My door slams shut, and I begin pacing the floor of my room. Anger flows through my veins like a fire that can’t be stopped. I had at least thought I was gaining some ground with Barnes and even some of the others, but apparently not. The only reason he let me go free is because of that stupid deal.

One thing’s certain after tonight, though. James Barnes is not to be trusted.

Part 7

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thefanbasewhore · 3 years

Text

United As One. || Part 2.

Summary: While Din is trying to convince the reader to marry him, the elders show their distaste while the reader finds out something that can impact her decision.

Warning/Content: 18+ please, fingering, oral (male on female), light smut, body hair (bc it's normal!!!) fighting between characters and angst. Also I don't ever write smut... Please be gentle with me lol this is one of my first times.

Paring: Din Djarin/female reader

Clan Leader Din AU

Part 1. || Master Post.

Light seeps through the gaps between thin curtains, eyelids flutter as the sun hits her skin, heat creeps up the nape of her neck, warming her forehead. The brightness makes her squeeze her eyes harshly, she uses her hands to try and face the other way but dead weight against her chest makes it impossible.

Thick brown curls rest against her chest, Din's face appreciating the warmth and comfort of her breast, his own chest pressed against her stomach with small, shallow breaths. She can't see his face, he's too low angled downward, facing the wall but it surprises her. Her eyes widen in embrassment, the sudden feeling to run her fingers through the ringlets that he's decided to show her for the first time.

Din has never removed his helmet in front of her, sometimes in the dark but this was different, his skin pressed against her chest, hair she dreamed about tickling her chin is an overwhelming feeling, to add to it the memories of his last words that Din admitted. She's conflicted, It looks more beautiful then what it felt like in the dark between her fingers but what if she wakes him and he demands an answer? Something she's unable to give at the moment.

"Marry me, I've always known you'd be my riduur since the day I met you."

Despite the nervousness fingers softly tug on the tips of hair that reached his collar, silky and well managed despite being in his helmet and the long night sleep. It's a soft sigh that falls from his lips as nails scratch his scalp, sleepily pushing his hips against her.

A breath his held as she feels the hardness against her inner thigh, swallow breaths still falling from Din's chest signaled he was still sleeping but hips unknowing to himself press harder and again wanting the friction.

Fingers stop, heart beating so fast she swears she can hear it in her ears. While they have laid next to each other many nights in the Razor Crest it was never like this. There wasn't enough room, someone would end up bumping into someone which would end up with a sleepy grunt for Din and him finding else where; leaving the bed for her.

Sex was out of the question, Grogu was the number one concern. Between finding a Jedi, keeping the Crest running before it was destroyed, and keeping up with the baby it never left the time too.

It wasn't by choice, there were many nights Din spent longing over her, greedy eyes running over any exposed skin she allowed, they showered together once after the battle against the Kypt Dragon, skin against skin but the lights cut leaving his creed intact.

Even now asleep all Din wanted to do is touch her, with the child's safety secured, and being able to come back to his clan, there was no reason not to.

He's not, heavy and throbbing against her bare thigh, Din's body weight shifting her pajama shorts up further exposing smooth skin. Finally, she takes in a deep breath, eyes shift to the child that lays feet away from them snuggling a pillow, sucking on his fingers for comfort.

"Mmmhmm." It's a soft moan, breath fanning against the swell of breast, that ever so tease him, hips indistinctly pressing further into her until he's sliding against the junction between her thigh and soaking heat. Shame makes her face red, mostly because of how much she wanted him, wants more.

Din's eyes flutter, eyelashes soothing the skin of her breast with a huff. He says for a second, evaluating the situation: his hardness throbbing, pressed between his girls creamy thighs, the worst part of it being he can feel how hot she is, see the wet spot the formed through the thin shorts, feel it.

The room was suddenly hotter, he doesn't dare move, freezes actually, would be absolutely horrified if she woke up finding him pushing against her. Lips gently lay a kiss against her chest, listening to the beats under her chest.

"Good morning cyar'ika." It's whispered against skin, not meant for her current consciousness, it's followed by a few more kisses, her eyes flutter shut at the feeling, breaths slow at a result. Din's hand press against the bed on each side of her, extending his arms to push himself fully up.

"Wait Din, I'm awake!" Her own hands come to cup her eyes as they catch a glimpse of his forehead. Din pauses, he doesn't move just keeps is face angular.

"Why... Why did you say anything?" Din's voice is caught in his own throat as she grinds her hips towards him. A small groan falling from the pressure against his hardness.

"I..." She trails off, Din looks up replacing her hand with his own, the other hand knotting the crown of her head, tangling into the hair with a slight pull that makes her whine. "I wanted to keep feeling you."

Din feels his own heart beat beginning to speed up, her fingers blindly in front pressing against the smooth skin of his throat, first cupping his chin feeling to thick hair there. Then they press against his throat, feeling the pulse thicken herself. Din might have thought it was more sexual then it was intended, truthfully honest she forgets how human he can really be.. the pulse helps remind her he's just as much as her, maybe even more.

"Din.." The whine of his name wanting and feral shoots straight to his aching cock.

Fingers soak the touch of her chin, gripping it just watch lips part with want, chest heaving that makes Din's face red. He's unexperienced, he'll be the first to admit it but it felt so, so right.

"Do you want me?" He doesn't mean to words like that, it makes him seem as if he is the prize when truthfully he's the lucky one to see her spread her legs further in response. "Can I touch you sweet girl?"

"Please, Please." She chants as he moves closer so he's on his knees in-between her legs. There's a few minutes of silence, he uses them commit this memory of her to his brain forever.

"Din." She's impatient as she calls for him, hand following it's own trail to the hem of her short but Din swats it away, tisking under his breath. "You look..." He gulps, "beautiful, so good for me."

Din's lips move agonizingly slow, pressing a piece of love across her neck, hands cupping both of her breast through her shirt feeling nipples react instantly, hard through the thin material of the shirt. "Keep your eyes closed."

"I-I.." Tears of frustration wet eyes, she want to cry, beg for him to touch her but he's to busy enjoying the feel of her, parts he's never been able to explore before. "The kid."

Suddenly Din feels like an idiot, eyes shifting across the bed, thankfully the kid is still sleeping unbothered. "I'll be right back, keep your eyes closed."

Once the child is safely tucked away, comfortable as Din made sure to cover him with blankets in the other room. Nothing could prepare Din for the sight in front of him, smooth bare legs, breast naked on display with soft nipples, his hand slips further down his abdomen to grasp his own arousal, hard and aching. A small moan makes her head raise but eyes stay closed. "Din?"

"I'm here pretty girl." Din finds himself between her legs again, hands stroke the sensative skin of her inner thighs, she managed to take her shorts off the only thing keeping Din from seeing her naked is the cotton underwear. Din cant help but stare, the light colored fabric left little to the imagination, dark hairs shape against it, the wet patching showing just how badly she wants him.

With her eyes closed, it's practically sensory overload. Her skin can feel his touch so much more, the warmness of him, not to mention his smells, musty and warm, it reminds her of old leather. Ears twitch at how horse his voice is, breath against her skin as lips touch her neck. "Do you, I mean, Do you want me to -"

Din's feels his own skin heat at the words, he didn't have much experience besides when he want younger and one of the clan members went down on him but it didn't feel like this. Nothing can make him feel the way the cry that falls from her lips do. "Please, please touch me Din."

Din mades sure to take his time, spreading the wetness around the bare mound with his thumb, his mouth parting with want. If this was the last thing he’s ever seen, he’d die happy watching her skin flush pink, chest heaving with deep breaths, grinding her desperate, needy hips against own hand.

He loves to watch, watching her mouth open to beg for more but he's greedy, he wants hear more. Hear that he is the reason for her wetness. Fingers pinch the most sensative part of her, eyes open in surprise but Din's too fast, covering them with a hiss. "Eyes closed."

She obeys almost instantly at the rough grunt, eyelashes fluttering against his palm. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to."

"Mhmm." He agrees inside his chest, his hand leaves her completely with a protest but it's soon gone and she's flipped onto her stomach, face pressed against the mattress as fingers dig into her hips, dragging them into the air. He found himself so wrapped up in her he didn't care if she saw his face, all that was on his mind was her pleasure, with her eyes against the wall there was no reason to worry.

His length straining against the back of her thigh, heavy. Pressing kisses against shoulder blades and his hand finds its self between them, lowering her down against the mattress with a hand. His other thumb spreading across her clit, whining with the contact. His finger’s hook inside with no warning, filling her completely.

They're large, there's only two of them as they scissor against her walls, coated with her arousal that helps them trust into her again.

When his fingers find that spot that makes her cry, whine his name he can't help but moan, "Stars, Din."

She squeezes around him, hips naturally fighting his own trust of his fingers. "So, so beautiful."

He groans at the tightness, it sends shivers down his skin. Finger’s never lead up, filling and entering as soon as they left, over and over again until she feels the bundle of heat in her stomach, bubbling for a release.

Din notices as he quickens the pace, chest against her back as he leans to press kisses against her neck, shirt discarded moments ago but neither could remember, lips sucking softly on the skin, huffing in frustration at his own arousal pressing against the back of her thigh for relief.

"Din.." it's a warning that make him suck harder, fingers so good it makes her mewl.

"Cum pretty girl, give it to me."

That's all it takes, from his fingers milking her through, the pretty girls that make her heart leap, his bare chest against her back, something snaps, squeezing against his fingers as a cry falls from them.

Her chest falls and raises quickly against the mattress, Din's fingers don't leave her heat but his head leans against her shoulders with a huff. Blind fingers reach behind her, squeezing his hardness so softly, it's an experimental touch that makes him groan but he pushes her hand away.

"Don't worry about me, I want you to cum again." She wants to protest, wants to say she can't but Din doesn't give her the chance to even catch her breath before fingers are leaving her, the dirty sound of his lips sucking on them making her gasp.

He uses this time to look at her, soaking begging for more under her breath. "Sweet, so sweet."

She couldn't tell if he was talking about her or her the cum on his fingers but eyes didn't miss a beat as legs lazily spread wider for him.

Hands spread across the back of bare thighs, trailing to squeeze a large handful of her cheek. "I always knew you would beautiful like this.. dreamed of it baby."

His arms flexing and expanding against thighs again as fingers curl into the softness of them, anchoring himself as lips closing down around her clit, suckling softly.

“Din!” it's a whine of surprise as his tongue flickers against the sensative bundle, taking his good time with. His fingers finding her heat once again, sinking into the gaping hole, his finger’s moving faster, pace increasing with every squeal, scream or sound that was made.

His tongue doesn't let up from her clit as his fingers pushed deeper inside, purposely messaging the spot found in the deepest of her pussy, his cock throbbing at the thought of feeling it.

Hips lifting off the bed trying to escape his brutal lips, but he doesn't allow it as his free hand fell to hips, roughly pushing her back down against it the pillows. "Stay." The vibrations make her cry, beg for more.

Finger’s curling in her, collecting any juice they possibly could spreading against her as much as he could as hips jolt once again, a soft mumble against her making her moan.

The familiar feeling of heat building up and bubbling in her lower abdomen spreading warmth through out her whole body as he continued to finger fuck her as fast he could. The heavenly sound of wetness dripping to his hand, covering his face and into the bed. "Give it to me, please, please sweet girl."

“I'm -." His name is like a prayer on her lips, his only reply is slamming his finger back into as hard as he could, lips puckering against her clit one more time. Eyes rolling back into her head, as her body let's go, Din sucks up anything he could manage. Her body slumps instantly but Din's finger grabbing her hips saves her from falling harshly against the bed. Loving lips press to her shoulder, laying his cheek against the warmth, slowly lowering her to the bed.

She wants to speak, but can't. Her head is still so high up in the clouds, mind so full with the thought of Din, Din, Din.

"Cyar'ika." The soft words make her heart jump, "Think about it.. I know it's not what you expected but I don't expect an answer right away."

Soft fingers trace her hairline as if they would never feel it again. His other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. Very prominent hardness against her back, but he ignores it. Eyelids flutter close, exhaustion taking over even when his lips meet her neck where he barries his head.

The sun once again is brutal, groaning as she blinks the tiredness away. Reaching behind her to feel for the loss of heavy weight but just to realize no one is there. Jumping up, looking for any sign of the green little monster as well but there is none. She moves to quickly, soreness from her legs reminds her of earlier, cheeks red with heat. It's been no long since anyone has touched her, she would feel it for days.

With shaky legs she stands, dressing rather quickly as she leaves the hut to search for them. The day is like any other, faces that aren't covered with helms show their distaste, while she can't see the other's faces she knows theirs match their conrads.

The temple is rather large, tikis of fire trail to the entrance and for some reason she finds herself drawn to it. The long pull over is stretched across her chest as she wraps it closer to herself as she moves towards the deep rasp she knows as Din.

Symbols and drawings are itched against the walls, the low light of the torches wouldn't let her decipher them, she wouldn't be able to anyways they are written in a language she does not understand. The doorway opens to a large room, space large enough to fit hundreds, tables and chairs fill the majority of it. There's a large throne in the center against the wall, followed by smaller ones that sit directly behind.

Throat dries as eyes run over the familiar plates of beskar covered thighs, up to the small green child who plays with a small stuffed toy on the mandalorian's lap. Basker doesn't notice the new eyes in the room, too busy snarling at the wrinkled men and woman in front of him. They all look identical, long cloaks that cover their baldness, charcoal symbols in a perfect line down their faces.

"No." The words fall from the woman who threatened her lips days ago, Din doesn't like the words as he lets out a huff.

"There is nothing against it, it's allowed." He argues, the elders around him show their distaste with a hiss.

"She is not mandalorian, she will bring shame on this clan. You will shame us Din Djarin." Once again she feels unwanted tears of embarrassment sting eyes, she wish they would just go away, that it didn't bother her.

She wants to curl up and disappear when she meets the gaze of sharp basker, the elders follow suit. "What are you doing here?" It's soft, low.

He doesn't like the look she sports, face twisted in anger, in sadness. She tries to hide the tears, faking a smile as she looks up at him. "I was worried... Grogu wasn't there.. you weren't there."

"I'll be done in a second, wait outside for me cyar'ika."

One of the elders hiss, "Do not speak our language to her, she does not deserve it!"

It happens before anyone can react, Din holds the baby close against his chest, the other hand drips the elder's cloak around the neck line, threatening him with rough gasp. "Don't you disrespect her. You may keep order of the clan but I am Mand'lor. I meant it when I said you have to go through me."

Din's eyes flicker to her, she gulps nervously at the display of power. It fit him so... Well. "Outside, take the child I will be out."

The sound of his voice, the authority in his voice has her feet moving before her brain can even process the words. Grogu reaches out for his mother with a giggle as he's notices her, before Din can turn his head in her direction she's gone.

It's not long after that Din is walking from the temple. Even though his emotions are often masked by his helm, anger just radiates from him. Hot, deep inside his veins. If shows with his slow steps roughly dug into the ground beneath him, shoulders high, alert, his trembling fingers at his side.

"Are.." she pauses, eyes meeting his visor as he's only inches away, towering over her. "Are you okay bear?"

The nickname makes him pause, a rare smile lifts his cheeks pressing his forehead against her own. "I'm fine, everything is going to be alright."

His heart pounds in his ears, heart warm with admiration? Love? Honestly, he couldn't quite place his feelings when it came to her but the nickname made him feel warm, happy at the affection. The nickname was a jab at his parenting, papa bear she called him, ever since then it stuck.

Grogu small hands wrap around her neck, breaking them apart in jealousy as his face finds warmth against her neck. Din rolls his eyes with a chuckle, hand slipping into her free one. The act makes her pause, looking for eyes to see but Din tugs her toward, not caring who sees.

The walk back is slow, cool while they enjoy the spoils the planet offers. A few stares but Din keeps her distracted, "There's a celebration tonight. I want you there."

"No." She admits too quickly for his liking, he sighs stopping movement all together. She feels guilty, redness blooming cheeks. "No one wants me there, I'll just spoil their fun."

"I want you there." He admits, fingers find silky strands of hair, playing with the tips with gentleness. "It's my coronation, it's the celebration of me.. there's no one else more deserving to be there."

Din can't help but notice the awkward shift from hip to hip, trying to shift weight to make standing just a little bit easier. "What is it?"

Cheeks are even hotter as she looks down at her feet. Worried hands tip her chin to meet her own reflection in his helmet. "Tell me."

"I'm just sore is all." It's Din's turn to blush, hear claims his cheeks, runs up the nape of his neck.

"Let's go back, get ready. The child needs a bath anyways." The way the petal like ears raise at the mention of a path with a lifting lip makes them both laugh under their breath.

There's laughter in the distance, the smell of fire, roasting meat, chatting among peers when she arrives. She tucks the child closer as she manages to walk past without being detected, her only concern being to find Din.

Tents scatter across the green ground, the largest which she guessed with hold him. Two mandalorians stand out front, as if they are looking for any kind of danger to pass through. The one's helm shift towards her face, looking her up and down before gesturing her entry into the tent.

Din is seated, a blonde woman's fingers pressing white lines along with symbols that have no meaning to her against his basker on his thighs. His head tilts up towards his girl, a small smile forming underneath the mask. Beads lay in layers on his chest, peaks of flowers tangled between them, he's almost covered from head to toe in white clay.

His eyes never leave hers, despite how nervously she stares at the woman who sat between his legs.

"Hi pretty girl." The words pinch her cheeks red as his fingers mention her closer, the woman kneeling in front him remains quiet. Din can sense her irritation so doesn't dare recognize the fact another woman is between his legs. He presses his hand against his lovers back pushing her close to press their foreheads together.

"Hi bear." The nickname makes him smile again, a simple word that makes him feel loved. Leather gloves stroke the petal shaped ears on the child with a soft coo, "Hey buddy, how was the bath?"

The displeasure isn't hidden on Grogu's face but he still climbs over the chair to his father's lap. The blonde woman looks up from her handiwork with a smile as the curious child peers at her. "Hi little guy."

"I'm done here Mand'lor." Din gives a pleased nod, dismissing her silently. The girl gets to her own knees, angling herself to stand between his legs. There's something about her flirty grin, eyes that meet her own with a looking that just screams, 'I know something you don't.'

Even though it makes her narrow her eyes, it really doesn't matter expect when she bares her neck to them. Wrapped around with a thin piece of string is the mud horn signet that exactly resembles Din's.

She tries not to think the worst, but it seems like a claim of some sort. Like she is his. While she silently moves to exit the tent, a long strand of beads run across the whole length of her hair, dark brown in color.

Din's hands try to move her to his lap but the look of confusion etched across her face makes him pause.

"She wears your signet?" Din is caught off guard, bitting his bottom lip under the helm. While it made complete sense to him, how do you explain it to someone how doesn't understand this way of life.

"Yes." He answers truthfully, "I made it for her."

The words make her take a step back, Din's fingers don't allow her as they fight to move her between the V of his legs. He's successful, stronger.

"I will make you one when you're my riduur."

"but why does she have one?" The hurt can't go unnoticed, pale in color, anxiety making her heart thump faster.

"It's not important."

"It is to me. Why does she have one?" Din doesn't want to talk about it, he wants to enjoy the night, enjoy it with his clan, his son and her.

"She is my breeder." While she doesn't know what it means, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. She's silent, chewing on the fat of her lip. "Sweetheart?" Din looks up, uneasy with the silence.

"Breeder? You mean as in -."

"Have my children." The fear is answered, "It's tradition, the clan needs an heir. If a riduur cannot produce a child, the breeder will be used. It's nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about? If I marry you and can't have children you will just have them with her?"

He doesn't like it, the way her voice fills with hurt. "Yes but it won't happen, it's just in case."

She's trying to distance herself, Din let's go, he doesn't like the way she struggles from his grasp. "If it does happen what I'm supposed to sit back and watch you two raise a child together?"

"It won't happ -."

"Who picks her?" It's a jab toward him, makes him regret his choice that he made years ago, before he knew her.

"I do but it -." He wants to say it was before her, before he feel in love but watching tears fill her eyes makes him pause, if he had one weakness in this world it would be watching her cry, something he's seen too much over the past week.

"Don't cry." He stands tall placing the child on the chair, with every step towards her she moves further away. Her chest is heavy, heart breaking as tears that slip past eyelids.

"I was never your first choice." Din can see it, the way her eyes show the fear of loving him. Hand pressing against her own chest as if it physically hurts.

"You are, you're my only choice." His words try to reason, hands try to comfort but she presses a hand against his chest to stop him. The wall of the tent is against her back, Din boxes her in.

"It's tradition, I don't want her. I want you."

She shakes her head, tears burn her cheeks. "Your traditions are ugly, I hate it here."

The words make his face drop, heart stuttering in his chest, it hurts. Her defiance, the way she admits those words about his home. He wants it to be her own.

"I can't change them. I can't help them." Her eyes flicker to the beads against his chest, reaching out to feel the hardness of them.

"What were the beads in her hair?"

Din doesn't want to say it but none the less cannot lie. "I don't want to lie to you." It was too much already, it would only bring her more pain.

"Then tell me the truth Din."

"She wears the color of my eyes in her hair."

.."What?"

The amount of time it took Din to even admit the color of his eyes to her was months.. she just walks around parading them and he allows her, he did pick her after all.

"Y-Your eyes?" The words choke up in her throat, bottom lip trembling. "I never got to see your eyes, you said they were brown. The first time I see the color is on another woman. Do the whole clan a favor, take me home and marry her."

"No, No. Stop." His hands grasp her wrist, pulling her close to his chest, the dried clay scratched her cheeks, beads press against her temple. "It was long ago, before I met you. You are my choice."

Tears smear, melting the clay with a cry. She pulls away, "You might want to have her come in and fix that."

Din Djarin is left speechless as he watches her walk away, his own heart breaking inside his chest. Not even a full week home and it's already managed to distance them. Now her own broken heart matching his.

#din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #the mandolorian imagine

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thesmokingguns · 3 years

Text

Phone Tag

Word count: 3512

Requested: “My idea was that the reader thought Kelly was cheating on her on tour, and when he comes home, he finds her really upset and comforts her and assures her that he only loves her”

Requested by @littlemisscare-all

A/N: I just want to thank @littlemisscare-all for the request and letting me message her about questions I had. Kelly Nickels is a new character I’m writing and she was patient with my questions and so helpful. This is a little longer than my usual one shots so I hope you like it. I have three requests I need to write on top of my regular stuff I want to put out so feel free to make a request but I’m going to say the time might be up to a week now. I also have a tag list you can be added to by just messaging me or filling out the form. Please let me know what you think ❤️

Tag List: @thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all , @agroupiewhore, @ayablackwood

Ring, Ring, Ring

The constant sound of the phone trying to connect with room 828 was filling my head. The high pitched sound bouncing around your mind as you wished he’d pick up. After another minute of the phone going unanswered you hung up, wiping my sweat filled palms on the denim dress hastily.

You could see your fingers trembling, the anxiety of the situation coming out in physical ailment as your trembling hands started to get numb. You shook out your hands, flexing them, cracking them, pushing them together, anything to just calm yourself down enough to feel them again. Your heart was beating so fast that it felt like it had turned on its engine and got lodged in your throat when it pressed the gas. You couldn’t swallow down the pounding so you tried instead to take a gulp of air. Breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Even though you felt like you were not getting enough air when you breathed through your nose you continued anyway trying to calm your body that seemed to be fighting you. You were trying anything to try and stop the full fledged anxiety attack from coming on.

You stepped back into the store, trying not to make eye contact with your friend and coworker as you started to fold the sweaters on the front side table. Your hands needed to stay busy as you tried to avert your eyes from anyone, tears pooling in them. You couldn’t think about the situation or you’d start crying. But fuck, it had been almost a week since You had heard from your boyfriend. Your hand went to my pocket, pulling out the ripped out notebook paper Kelly had given you with the name, date, room number and phone number for each hotel. He was supposed to be in Phoenix in room 828 at the Hilton Hotel. Which you had already called seven times throughout the day without any response.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your coworker touched your shoulder and you let out a sob, hands flying to your face. The feeling of someone touching you after the last month of being alone was too much. You broke feeling the loneliness blanketing over you, covering you. Your coworker was leading you to the breakroom, thankful no one was in the shop to see you have a complete mental breakdown.

He had promised you that you would talk every day; he had seen the nervous look in your eyes when the guys talked about the tour. All the girls that would be throwing themselves at the band. They were all about the three fundamentals: sex, drugs and rock n roll. How were you going to compete with something you weren't there to see?

“Jesus Fucking Christ, where the fuck is that paper?” Kelly was tearing apart the tour bus looking for a yellow piece of legal paper that you had written down all the numbers to call you on. He had lost it a week ago after he had drunkenly started a shot game with Phil that night and that had proved to be a horrible mistake.

When he had woken up, on the kitchen floor of the tour bus, a hangover so bad he wanted to fling himself into the highway all he could think about was calling the person that he loved and telling her about his night. The sound of her voice coaxing the hangover out of him and filling him up with the love she had for him. He had pushed himself off the floor, grabbing his cigarettes from his jacket and digging in the inside pocket for the list of numbers, but the paper was gone.

It had been six days since he had lost the numbers and as much as he tried to remember a phone number he couldn’t even think of one. He had expected a phone call to explain everything but the problem was that phone call had never come. This was just another layer of frustration that Kelly couldn't figure out. For the first few weeks of the tour he had gotten the calls at the hotel but a night before he lost the number the call hadn’t come in.

So now, being the very logical, even headed, and not complete maniac that he was, Kelly was tearing apart every single part of the tour bus. Ripping open trash bags, pulling apart beds, and crawling under the table that had a weird sticky substance underneath. As he pushed half drank beer cans aside he saw the flap of yellow sticking out. His heart leapt to his throat as he snatched up the paper, flipping it over and groaning audibly. The paper had gotten saturated. One number was partially visible with only a couple numbers melting together.

Walking off the tour bus he headed over to the payphone, setting a handful of change on the metal bottom as he started to dial different combinations of the number hoping that he could finally reach his girlfriend. Hoping that her lack of calls to him didn’t mean they had broken up or what if she had met someone else? She did have that fucking girlfriend who didn’t like him. What if she had gone out to The Roxy and met someone else?

He gripped the paper so hard in his hand as the phone rang and he thought of you with someone else. He needed to talk to you,

You were walking home, unable to work as your mind went a million miles a minute. Your heart thumping so loudly that your own thoughts were muted and just scenarios were popping in your head. Images of Kelly with his arm around another girl, disheveled hotel rooms with discarded clothes, his lips worshiping someone else's body. You stopped on the sidewalk closing your eyes, fists tightening as you told yourself not to scratch your arms. It was all in your head. This was all in your head and not real.

Another shaky step towards your apartment. Your eyes were on the payphone at the end of the block and you figured you could try one more time to call the hotel. Maybe when you heard his voice it would put out the fire of your mind. He could calm your anxiety, easing you from the panic attacks it caused and draw you in with the safety of his voice. He must have known how crazy you were going and when he finally talked to you he would have a logical explanation for why he had disappeared.

As you convinced yourself that he was going to answer this time, you could feel the burning bile in your gut start to be put out as the rational part of your mind tried to make a little room for you to have hope. The way your hands trembled as you took out a dime, sliding it into the slot and dialing the number, let you know that the temporary band aid your rational side had put on your anxiety wasn’t going to stick for very long. If Kelly didn’t answer it was going to be ripped off and you’d be left with the exposed wound that you would need to deal with..

Ring...Ring...Ri-

“Hello?” your heart caught in your throat, and you could feel your eyes widening as you heard a voice answer the phone on the other end, “Hello, is anyone there?” The very female voice that was answering the phone was not your boyfriend.

“Kelly?” his name left your lips, almost a whimper. All of the worst situations that you imagined could be happening in your head seemed to come to life now. It wasn’t just in your head, a woman was answering his hotel phone.

“Ohhhh, they’re in the shower. If you call back in an hour-” you hung up the phone. It took you four tries before you could get the receiver on the cradle because the shaking in your hand was running through your entire body now. You tried to crack your fingers, a weak attempt to get some control of the motions of your body.

In the shower. If he was taking a shower at 4pm what was he washing off of himself? Who was the girl who had answered the phone? Had he not answered because he had been so busy with her all day? You dry heaved in front of the payphone, sucking in air when nothing came out. You wanted to go home and hide, burying yourself under blankets until the weight of the sadness lifted. Not that you were sure it was ever going to lift because you had just caught him cheating on you.

It was a miracle that you made it to the apartment. You dropped your keys twice, your hands not working how they were supposed to. Your grip on them slipping and letting them fall through your fingers. Had you let Kelly fall through your fingers?

You hissed out a curse, shouldering into your apartment and locking the door behind you. You were off of work tomorrow so you could stay holed up inside the apartment for at least twenty four hours before anyone would think to call. That gave you time to wallow in your emotions and feel everything you needed to feel.

Looking around at the space it dawned on you that you would need to leave. Separate your things and get out of the city before he comes back to it. Which didn’t give you enough time at all because he would be back in two days for the LA show at the Whisky a Go Go, Where were you going to live? Maybe you could find a roommate or you could always stay with your best friend. She would let you in. There was so much to do and so much to figure out but you needed to lay down and figure it out from the comfort of the bed.

On the way to the bed you tripped over the phone you had kept beside it for the past few days hoping for Kelly to finally call you. You looked at the phone hanging off the hook, knowing if anyone called you they would just get the busy signal but you didn’t hang it back up. Kelly was too busy in some hotel room with a strange girl and he hadn’t bothered to call you in a week anyway. You needed to just get in bed and mourn your relationship. You’d move out tomorrow and start a new life without him.

Kelly hung up the phone, looking at his apartment phone number that the girl at the shop had just given to him. He had missed you by twenty minutes and from what he had just heard you were in bad shape.He sucked in his bottom lip as he dialed the home number. He would explain everything to you as soon as he had you on the phone. He could already picture you asking him if he had at least won the drinking game.

“What the fuck?” He looked at the phone when he got the busy signal. It had to be the right number. He had repeated the number twice to make sure that he got the correct number and now he was getting a busy signal. He dialed again, getting the same alert sound. Then again. And again. He stopped after constantly calling for ten minutes to take a breath. He was going to need to have a beer and try again.

He tried calling twenty minutes later, an hour, three hours, and before he went on stage for the show. His mind was thinking of how you could be on the phone for that long. He frowned as he grabbed his bass going over to the band's manager. He needed to get home sooner than the tour bus would take him.

You got out of the shower, wrapping your sweater around you over your nightgown. Your eyes skimmed the apartment where you had spent the last four hours cleaning like a maniac and separating everything. Your records were in a milkcrate by the door, along with a trash bag of all your clothes. Things like pots and pans didn’t seem worth fighting over. You would leave those for him. Even though you weren’t even sure if Kelly knew how to fry an egg.

Twirling a piece of hair around your finger you tried to calm the uneasy feeling filling you. He had been the one who hadn't answered your calls or called you. He was the one who had a girl answer the phone in his room. He wanted you to leave but he didn’t want to see the hurt he caused by telling you it was over. Your friends had all warned you about dating a rockstar so it wasn’t like you could expect much sympathy from them. But you had been with Kelly for over a year and hadn’t seen it coming. It felt like you were blindsided. To love someone so much had really just opened you up to the pain you were feeling now.

Moving to the bedroom you looked around the room, the pit of your stomach turning in sadness as you thought about this being the final time you sleep in this bed. The tears boiling up and tumbling down your face as you sat on his side, touching the pillow that he slept on. You could smell his aftershave and scent on his pillow just making you cry even harder. The feeling in the pit of your stomach growing as you missed someone who was gone.

Over your tears you didn’t hear the sound of the front door opening. You were wrapped around a pillow mind racing in a thick fog of all the reasons you weren’t good enough. Why couldn't he love you? Could anyone love you?

“Y/N, baby, what’s wrong?” Arms were wrapped around you. You were being pulled onto a lap, hair pushed away from your tear stained face.

“K-Kelly?” It comes out weekly, almost afraid you’re hallucinating arms wrapped around you, fingers touching your tears, pushing the puddles that gathered on your skin with an expert flick of a thumb.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. What happened? Why are you so upset? Who do I need to fight?” He was trying to defuse the situation with humor to drag you out of your hysterics. But he was the one that had gotten you to this place.

Sitting up you pushed yourself off his lap, a frown forming on his face from this action. You could feel the way your hands were starting to go numb as you wiped your tears, knowing there was going to be a confrontation with him.

“I called you for a week, Kelly. I called all the numbers multiple times a day and you didn’t answer. You didn’t call me back.” The way he frowned at this didn’t go unnoticed by you. You took it as a sign of his guilt. He had been ignoring you on purpose. “And I called this afternoon and a girl answered from your hotel room.” He stood up suddenly shaking his head.

“No, no, no.” You rolled your eyes at his weak attempt to lie about the fact you had spoken to a girl that was in his room, “Oh fuck, we didn’t even check into the hotel today. I was on the tour bus looking for the list of numbers you had written down for me.” He was digging into his leather jacket pocket looking for the yellow paper. You were trying to process what he was saying.

“But they said you were in the shower when I asked for you.” You said with a frown, trying to process what he was saying. It would be easy to believe him, tryst him blindly and forget all the drama but there were so many things that just weren’t adding up. He produced the yellow list holding it up with the missing pieces and wet pen running into a blurred mix of ink.

“Call the hotel now. I’m obviously here with you. Maybe they heard you wrong?” He knew you needed real proof. He looked at the phone on the floor that was off the receiver, “I tried to call you today. I guess this explains the busy signal.�� He moved to hang it back up.

“I called you and you didn’t answer all week and you didn’t even call me once.” You pointed out. “You’re on tour with all your horny band members and I’ve been out with you all before.” You didn’t want to ask him because you knew that he would answer you honestly. He couldn’t lie to you, even on little things he was always 100% honest. Which you had found out one night when you tried on a new dress and asked how you looked and he had told you the dress looked like a rejected extra from a Cyndi Lauper music video.

“I lost the phone numbers when I was drinking with Phil one night. It took me a week to find them on the bus.” He confessed. That story seemed pretty on par for who they were, “And are you asking if I was stupid enough to cheat on you?” At the words you went white, gripping the sheets. Kelly took in your reaction and knew that’s exactly what you were thinking had happened. “Listen, Y/N.” He moved over to the bed gripping your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs and giving him a soft smile, “I love you. Just you. And I wouldn’t do anything to ever lose your love. I spent a week trying to find a paper just so I could hear your voice. I was waiting for you to call all week, baby. Why didn’t you call me?” The soft way he spoke was melting the ice in your veins, calming you with the right touches and bringing you to the current situation happening in real life and not just in your head.

“I called you so much. I called all the hotels that you told me to call. But you never answered me.” You pointed to a crumpled up ball on the nightstand. Watching him grab it and smooth out the page of numbers.

“Oh shit.” He rubbed his chin and looked up at you with an almost embarrassed look. You knew exactly what that look was. He had made a mistake, “So, um, these hotels are out of order. I must have copied them backwards because this one.” He pointed at the last hotel you had called today. “Should have been here.” He pointed a few up and you sighed in relief. The tears still came flowing out but this time in relief, “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, baby.” He reached out, folding you to him. Your body was relaxed, allowing him to calm you with his back rubs and head kisses. Comforting you by holding you in his arms and reminding you that he loved you with his touch.

“I’m sewing my name and our telephone number into all your clothes tomorrow.” You muttered after a little while. He chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

“Next time, just come on tour with us. That way we never have to worry about playing phone tag.” You nodded your head listening to his heart beat. “We’re going to have to spend tomorrow morning unpacking your stuff. But I do respect your commitment to cut ties so thoroughly that you organized the records.” He got the laugh out of you that he was looking for. You sat up, shrugging your shoulders.

“I was just looking for an excuse to steal your Bowie records.” You teased him. He scoffed, pulling you to lay down beside him.

“I flew back here to be with you, Y/N. The least you could do is not threaten to steal my records.” Kelly pulled you close to him. “Do you feel better now that I’m back?” The concern in his voice warmed you to the core. You nodded your head at him. “Now you know you’re stuck with me and how wrapped around your finger I am.” You sighed out softly, eyes heavy as you felt like you could finally get some sleep after having a week of anxiety dreams and panic attacks preventing you from getting more than a tossing turning sleep for the week.

“Maybe next time send me a postcard to let me know you love me.” You said through a sleepy haze.

“Maybe I’ll train carrier ducks to send messages. Or learn how to do smoke signals.” A smile slipped out as you cuddled closer letting him lull you to sleep with his soft touches and soft mutters. He loved you, you could feel it. And that was all you needed

#kelly nickels #la guns #L.A Guns #kellly nickels imagine #Kelly nickels headcanon #Kelly nickels fanfic #request

87 notes · View notes

damnedparker · 3 years

Text

fugitives

pairing: alex law x reader (gender neutral; no y/n)

warnings: food mention, swearing, Extremely Soft alex, cliche flower date, literally all fluff because thats my brand i guess

summary: alex law is a lot of things, but he most definitely is not a shitty boyfriend.

3k words alex lawies! what! i dont even know what this is. soppy romantic stuff. i love this stupid criminal man too much and no one can stop me. all i can write is fluff. everyday i wake up and choose yearning

You almost groaned as you were brought out of a vague sort of sleep for the third time that night, your boyfriend going through another bout of shifting around for the thousandth time. Alex had always had on and off issues with falling asleep, what he attributed to having a brain that just never stopped or slowed down enough to relax unless he was completely exhausted. You understood what he meant, you only wished you could do something to help. You had tried getting him to read, or relaxing to music before sleep, but neither seemed to help much for him.

As he shifted around again, tangling and untangling his legs with yours multiple times before tossing his head to the side in frustration, you scooted away from your usual place tucked into his side. You had hopes that giving him space without you being half on top of him might help him find a comfortable enough position to fall asleep. Soon, you began to doze off again, your body tuning out his tossing and turning just enough before you were woken up by him whispering your name when he stilled. You replied in a sleepy hum, not quite coherent enough to form any words at the moment.

“Are you mad at me?” You blinked your eyes open at that, confused.

“No, Alex, why d’you think that?”

“You moved away from me.”

“I thought maybe you would be more comfortable that way is all.” You yawned, closing your eyes again.

“I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” There was a beat of silence, and you thought he had tried to fall asleep again before he reached out for you and pulled you back into his arms, his front pressed tightly against your back. You smiled at the return of his warmth, much preferring to sleep with him holding you or vice versa. More moments of quiet passed, and you began to get sleepy again. But once more, Alex’s voice brought you back to the waking world.

“When’s the last time we went on a date?”

“What?” You mumbled, not sure if you heard him right.

“I don’t know when the last time we went out together was.” He shifted against you again to push his legs between yours, his cold feet settling against your calves. You easily fought the urge to shiver, used to his icy palms and feet pressing against your skin or warmth during the night.

“We went out to the pub just last week.” You replied, becoming fully awake now. A frustrated puff of air from Alex met the back of your neck.

“I’d hardly call me getting shitfaced-drunk a proper date, love.” His fingers began to nervously play with the hem of your shirt as he spoke, a telling tick that Alex always smoothed over with brazen or loud words, pushing down the fact that he was distressed. You covered his hand with yours and pressed it to your tummy to still his movements, now exposed from all the shifting around the both of you had done.

“I don’t need a proper date, or whatever that even means, Alex. I just like being around you.” It sounded incredibly corny, sure, but it was true. You’d much rather get plastered or stay home watching movies with your boyfriend, than have to go through the motions at some overpriced restaurant only to come home and do the very same thing you would rather be doing in the first place.

You turned around in his arms, changing positions so that your head rested on his chest, your arms hugging his middle. He began playing with your hair quietly, not saying anything after your last statement. He had seemed to relax a little at your reassurance, but you could feel the insecurity lingering in his movements and the silence that followed without some kind of acceptance or witty comment.

This time it was you who broke the quiet.

“What’s got you thinking about this in the middle of the night?”

“A few days ago, when we were hanging around on the couch, David said some fuckin’ thing about us never going out on a date, and me being a shitty boyfriend. I don’t know why I keep thinking about it.” He mumbled bitterly, upset with himself for letting this get to him. You scooted up slightly, so your face was level with his, reaching out to brush the hair out of his face, which was quite the sight from all the tossing and turning in bed.

“Well, David’s a twat,” you murmured next to his ear, causing a small grin to break out on Alex’s face. He turned to look at you, dark circles present under his icy, soft eyes, his smile unfading. You had to actively stop yourself from bursting out with an I love you, not wanting to make the moment too serious, and you weren’t sure that Alex was the type to say it. You were also a little nervous to tell him, and mostly just hoped that somehow, he knew how much you cared for him. And, of course, you hoped he felt the same. “You are anything but a shitty boyfriend, my Alex. You’re my favorite person.” He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm, now resting against his cheek. A quiet sigh of contentment left his lips, and you closed the small gap between your faces to give him a long kiss.

“Let’s go somewhere tomorrow, get away from this stupid flat for a bit.” He pressed his cheek to yours, breath tickling your ear as he murmured softly to you. Tingles spread down your spine at the intimacy, and your hand found its way under his t-shirt, soft with wear, running up his back to feel his skin.

“Where to?” You raised an eyebrow. He sat up slightly to rest his cheek on his hand as he looked down at you, pretending to think hard before answering. Your heart fluttered when his other hand found yours, gently squeezing.

“Wherever you want.”

“Well, then I’d like to stay home.” Alex sighed dramatically and hung his head in lighthearted annoyance. The smile that had overtaken your lips since he’d woken you was incapable of leaving your face as you reached out to run your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. He peeked up at you with one eye.

“You’re so difficult, you know that?”

“I do it just to make you mad.” The smile on your face was wiped off briefly as you squeaked in surprise when Alex leapt up from his position, trying to pin you to the bed. Laughter rung out far too loudly from your lungs in the middle of the night as you scrambled to escape his hold, albeit not very successfully. Just as you had one foot on the floor to leave the bed, Alex grabbed your other ankle, and the movement of you pulling away resulted in you crashing onto the wood floor, with Alex following, landing on top of you with an almost comical oof. You groaned under him, a bit of pain coming from his weight, as well as the contact your body had made with the hard floor. There was barely a moment to register said pain, as the two of you wrestled on the floor for a bit, somehow bringing the blankets with you across the room within the struggle. You eventually yielded to your boyfriend, far too out of breath from laughter and effort to fight any longer, and also knowing you were making too much noise.

“I win.”

“Yeah, I think that happens when you give the other person a concussion.” You sarcastically replied, wincing when you tried to sit up. Alex’s eyebrows drew up in concern, but you stopped him. “I’m just kidding, Alex. But that fall did kinda hurt. You’re fucking heavy.”

“It’s all my muscles.” He grinned, letting you go to lay next to you. You pinched his bicep as he moved over.

“Yeah, these chicken arms are so strong.” You teased, and he scoffed again in feigned offence.

“You know, I’ll remember that the next time you’re drunk and you don’t want to walk home from the pub,” He pointed a finger at you, which your response was point your own at him. Except, you know, the middle one. “Ohh, you’re so sweet, darling.” He cooed. You rolled over to straddle his waist, taking his position from earlier. Alex rested his hands on your thighs, gently rubbing circles into them with his thumbs. It was a curiosity how this man didn’t get whatever he wanted when he was capable of looking at you the way he did. “Please can we go somewhere tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you finally agreed, and he sat up in excitement, making you slide down to his lap. You rested your hands on his shoulders. “Somewhere fun though. Not a fancy restaurant.”

“What about a… lower grade restaurant?”

“Alex…” He responded to your small whine with your own name in the same tone, tilting his head with the cutest puppy dog eyes in the world.

“I don’t like restaurants either, but we can get the food to go. I’ll take you to that park you like, with the botanical gardens,” he pouted. “Come on, I’ll pick you a flower or some romantic crap like that.”

“I don’t think those flowers are meant for picking, sweetheart,” His only response was a mischievous grin. You should have known better than to even try to say anything opposing his plans. You weren’t ever going to really say no in the first place; why would you reject any amount of time spent with your boyfriend? Especially when he was being uncharacteristically romantic, or at least romantic in his own way. “I suppose we can go.”

“Good,” His smile turned soft. “Now I really won’t be able to sleep.”

The next day, Alex burst into your apartment after you had gotten home from work. Literally right after. You had barely taken off your shoes.

“Sometimes I regret giving you a key to my flat.” Your hands gripped at the sofa you were leaning on, recovering from the minor heart attack he had given you from his sudden appearance.

“Why? I thought you liked me.” He teased, grabbing onto your waist from the side. Your eyes softened as you took in his appearance, dressed in your favorite combination of the approximately six options in clothes he had; a green sweatshirt, denim jacket, topped by his leather jacket.

“I like you very much, Alex.” your voice was almost dreamy as you said it, locking eyes with him for a moment too long. Your boyfriend shifted a little, seeming to get nervous and glancing down before he spoke.

“We best get going soon, huh?” The sudden change of subject made you swallow hard, worried you’d ruined something at his now fidgety state. You nodded and mumbled something about changing before rushing off to your room. That was weird, and the sudden shift in mood from Alex meant something was either wrong, or you had made him uncomfortable somehow. Great. Not like that won’t haunt you the rest of the night. Totally.

As soon as you emerged from your room, clothes changed and forcibly pushing down what had happened a moment ago, Alex seemed back to his regular, excited self, throwing you a grin that encouraged you to file the moment ago in the back of your mind. Along with how clammy his palm felt when he slid his fingers between yours. Maybe he was still anxious in relation to everything he said last night.

There was only a brief separation of touch as you both slid into the Mini Cooper. Key into ignition, gear shift in reverse; Alex threw his arm over the back of your seat as he backed out of the parking lot, stopping briefly with his foot on the brake to press a kiss to your cheek before switching gears and heading out onto the road. His hand soon landed in its regular affectionate spot on your thigh as he drove, turning up his favorite album so the two of you could sing along, your off-key screaming going in and out as you got swept up in random conversations. When it was warm enough, Alex would roll all the windows down, and you’d cruise forever until you end up parked in the shadows somewhere to make out like teenagers. It was torturous how much you loved him; how happy he made you feel. You hoped you made him feel the same way.

The oh-so romantic meal for the night were greasy chips to share, probably detrimental for your intestines later, and sandwiches from the place you both frequented often, as it was almost the exact middle distance between your flats. As per tradition, the two of you ate on the bench outside, as the weather was a little chilly as dusk approached, but not cold enough yet to scare you off. The two of you talked about the usual as you ate, jumping from topic to topic with the ease of trapeze artists, supporting each other with interest as you went. Alex was smiling far more than usual, especially when the two of you were talking about work of all things, and the way his eyes followed your every movement squeezed your heart just the same as his hugs did after a few days apart. Whatever was on his mind was clearly tinging his behavior, and you definitely could tell, with the other signals from other, something was up with him. You just didn’t know what.

What followed your dinner was another car ride, as the gardens you loved were too far of a walking distance. And although it wasn’t a long distance when driving, you were still anxious to get out as soon as you got there, throwing open the door mere seconds after Alex parked the car.

The gardens were fairly empty, but not totally so; a few people roamed about here and there, but they were mostly adults. Alex trailed close behind you as you began to explore, surveying all the new plants that had been added since the last time you’d been able to visit.

“I should’ve brought a camera,” he mentions as you study a patch of dahlias, maroons and oranges beautiful in the soft light of the scattered lampposts around the gardens. “You’re so pretty.” The last comment was softer than his first, amplified by his sudden presence next to you, an arm slipping around your waist. You glanced over to meet his gaze, already stuck on you, tilting your head just so. Something was definitely going on with him. But knowing Alex, he wasn’t telling you for a reason, so it’d be best to just let him get to whatever it is on his own. In all honesty, his tone had struck you silent, and you didn’t know what to say. A kiss on his jaw replaced any words you could’ve forced out of your mouth.

The two of you stuck to the other’s sides as you continued to stroll through the gardens, conversing about both the flowers and whatever tangential topic struck your thoughts.

Eventually, you ended up sitting on a bench next to your favorite flowers of the night, the honeysuckle. Something about them was drawing you towards them, and Alex had insisted you sit for a while and talk. His jacket had found its way to your shoulders a while ago, due to the slight shiver you had experienced a few times from a breeze that was a bit too strong, and your boyfriend immediately jumping on the idea that, god forbid, you were a bit too cold. He would never admit it, but sometimes he was very protective of your comfort level. It was sweet.

You were busy looking up at the stars which were growing brighter as the night wore on when Alex called your name softly. His hand slipped into yours again, beginning to play with your fingers like he always did when something was bothering him.

“You know,” he paused, looking down at his lap and seeming very interested in watching his thumb stroke and rub gently over your knuckles. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been the best boyfriend over the past year… I know I’m temperamental and annoying sometimes—”

“Alex,” you stopped him with a gentle smile. “Like I told you last night, you’re my favorite person. No conditions and no buts.” He still wouldn’t look at you, so you took the opportunity to brush his hair from his face to know you were listening attentively. “What is it?”

“I just—” He sighed, his shoulders readjusting as he sat up and finally turned his head to you. “I really love you.” His eyes were full of worry as he made his confession, and all you could do is squeeze his hand in reply with a soft, reassuring smile. “I’ve never really committed to someone before, so I’ve just been… really worried about telling you. I don’t know. I know you like me, every logical part of my brain shows me that. I know I would be devastated if you left. I just—I worry you don’t wanna be stuck with someone like me sometimes. Especially when my flatmates barely tolerate me. I don’t know how you manage to all the time.”

“It’s not something I have to think about, I just do,” you shrugged. Your brain was working on mostly auto-pilot at his words, the confession spreading warmth through your body like wildfire. “I love you, idiot. Of course I love you.” A grin spread across Alex’s face at your words, both in relief and in affection. Before you could add on to your statement, he rushed forward to smother you in an excited kiss, his hand slipping up to cradle your jaw. And then he repeated the motion, a few times over, a punctuation to his confession, and a release of worry.

“Fuck.” He murmured as he pulled away for the last time. You furrowed your eyebrows in question, as he tore his eyes away from you to lean over and pluck a honeysuckle flower from next to the bench.

“Alex, I wasn’t kidding when I said that’s not what those are for—"

“Be quiet, baby, I’m being romantic,” he shushed, tucking the flower gently above your ear. You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped from you and caused you to tilt your head; just a bit too much, as the flower drifted into your lap. Alex let out another curse and carefully slipped it back to where it was, eyeing it like a disobedient dog. “I was gonna do that before I told you.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, it’s still cute now,” you pressed a kiss to his forehead before standing and tugged on the hand joined with yours. ��Come on, let’s get out of here before the flower police arrest you for theft.”

“Please, they’d never catch us. I wouldn’t let them,” he scoffed, playing along. “Besides, we’re too cute to be prosecuted.”

#alex law x reader #alex law #ewan mcgregor x reader #alex law fluff #my fics

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ejlovespie · 3 years

Text

Hold Me Up

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: The reader falls very ill when she unknowingly touches a cursed object. Luckily, Dean is there to care for her.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1966

Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Fluff

Reader’s Request: Can I pleaaase request a dean x reader one shot where the reader gets hit by a witch curse but none of them noticed, then during their way back she starts getting sick and by the time they arrive to the bunker she has a raging fever and it keeps getting high no matter what dean and Sam do. I looove when dean gets worried and when he cares too much. Also I live for angst so feel free to make it as angsty as u can.

A/N: I tweaked a few details but this wrote itself, thank you for the request anon; I really hope you like it! 💙 Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :)

Driving down a long mountain road, you were headed back to the bunker after a difficult hunt in Colorado. Garth had called about a case where people were being burned alive in their homes. You, Sam, and Dean had found the cause was from a vengeful spirit who had happened to be a witch in life. Apparently, she had been killing the ancestors of a rival coven in order to get revenge when she and her people had all been rounded up and burned at the stake in the 1600’s. With no bones, this left you guys with the challenge of finding whatever was tying her to this world. It had taken longer than it should have but eventually you found the item; it was her old spell book. You were the one to salt and burn the thing. It had been small, fitting into the palm of your hand, but you remembered the weight it carried before you had tossed it into the flames.

You had been feeling strange ever since. It was almost like just by touching the book, you had been physically affected by its power and it was making you sick. Your head was pounding and you were fighting back the nauseous feeling in your stomach. Dean would kill you if you threw up in the backseat of his baby. Deep down, you knew something was wrong but you told yourself you were just feeling sick from the drive through burger you had eaten earlier. You had food poisoning. It was no big deal. You slept, off and on, during the long car ride and somehow managed to not throw up. Now, you were finally pulling up to the bunker. You heard Dean mumble something in front of you that sounded like, “Home sweet home.”

After Dean parked the car, you made the move to open your door but you kind of just slammed into it without properly pushing it open. Vertigo made your head and stomach swim and you rested your cheek on the cool window’s glass for a moment, breathing deeply. Dean had witnessed your attempt to get out and had come around to the other side of the car to open the door you weren’t currently laying on. Knowing something was wrong, he half climbed inside to unbuckle your seatbelt and pulled you to him. You flinched when a cool hand felt your forehead then moved to feel your cheeks. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see Dean’s handsome face full of worry. His green and gold eyes were concerned, looking you over, while he continued to move his hands. He pushed a few damp strands of hair from your face before cupping your cheeks again.

“You’re burning up Y/N.”

You could see Sam standing outside of the car, observing what was happening and you blushed a little. You brought your hands up to Dean’s larger ones on your face and pulled them away.

“I’m fine Dean. I think the burger I ate was bad, that’s all.”

To prove a point, you had turned back around and swung the door open but the motion was too fast and you toppled out of the car in a mess of limbs. You groaned when you hit your head on something and Dean swore behind you. A second later, Sam was helping you up and asking if you were alright. Before you could assure him that you were fine, your legs gave out and Dean was there, swinging you up into his strong arms. The movement had the vertigo coming back and you shut your eyes tightly and buried your face in Dean’s neck as he hurriedly carried you inside. You heard him telling Sam to go get the med kit before he brought you into your room and laid you down on your bed. Opening your eyes was a mistake. The room spun around you and shut them tightly again before the spinning made you puke. Oh God, you thought to yourself. Please don’t let me throw up in front of Dean Winchester.

You turned over on your side, away from Dean, just in case you lost your cookies. The spinning sensation was so strong, you groaned in pain and kept praying. Dean was sitting on the bed, running his hands over you, looking for some kind of evidence of the cause of your illness. He yelled at Sam to hurry when your breathing became more labored. Pointing to the trash can in the corner, you hoped Dean would understand. He jumped up quickly and brought it to you right before you started heaving. Sam was rounding the bed now, holding a large white case. He sat it down and started refilling through it. Breathe through it. Do NOT puke in front of both of these guys. Finally, the spinning had slowed down and you were able to calm your breathing a bit. Dean had his hands on your face again and was telling Sam to get the thermometer. A second later, he was shoving the tip into your mouth and telling Sam to go get towels while he waited for the reading. You tried pushing his hands away, to tell them you were fine but you felt so damn weak.

The thermometer beeped and you saw Dean’s eyes go wide when he read it. At some point you had started to shiver and Dean was now murmuring to you, telling you he was going to help you, while rubbing your back. Sam rushed in with towels and Dean put one on your forehead while he put another on your chest. Your teeth were chattering and it sounded so loud to your own ears. Was it loud to Dean too? Dean barked at Sam a few more times while he tried getting you to drink water, most of it dribbling down your chin. You had a hard time focusing on Dean and what he was telling Sam.

“She has a fever of 101 Sam. This sure as shit wasn’t caused by a burger. Can you hit the lore? I’m going to stay here and try to get it down.”

"Maybe we should take her to the hospital Dean."

Dean was opening a bottle and shaking a few pills into his palm. You complained a little when he reached over to bring them to your lips and then made you take a sip of water. You were so cold. You just wanted to curl into your blankets and go to sleep. Noticing your shivering, Dean took a minute to pull a blanket over you before he stood up and walked out of the room with Sam. You were so delirious it could have been a few minutes or a few hours but Dean came back into the room and sat on your bed again. You didn’t complain when he popped the thermometer back into your mouth. When the thermometer pinged again and Dean read your temperature, he cursed and started peeling the blanket off you. He jumped off the bed and was out of the room so fast your foggy brain couldn’t keep up with him. He was back in the room in a minute and bending to pick you up. You groaned and complained but he wasn’t listening to you. You were being carried again but this time he was rushing you to the bathroom.

The shower was running. Why was the shower running? Did you smell? You were pretty sure you hadn’t puked on yourself. Dean sat you on the toilet and was standing in front of you, peeling his clothes off. Wait, what? You questioned him groggily but he ignored you until he was stripped down to his boxer briefs. Turning to face you, he grimaced before saying,

“Your turn. I’m sorry for this sweetheart.”

Dean’s hands reached out, his fingers grazing your abdomen as he pulled your shirt above your head. You shrieked and pushed at his hands, confused about what was happening and somehow still feeling self-conscious in this moment. Gripping you around the waist, Dean stood you up and started unbuttoning your jeans. Your legs were so weak, you had to lean on him as he pulled your jeans down your legs before ripping them off completely. You were now left in your bra and panties and you felt so exposed but Dean was barely looking at you. He was laser focused and pulling you into the shower. If you were at full mental capacity you probably would have realized what was happening but as it was, you were shocked when the freezing spray of water touched you. You screamed and tried, weakly, to fight Dean, to get out. Gritting his teeth, he just wrapped you into his arms and stepped fully into the shower. Your teeth were chattering violently and goosebumps appeared on your skin. HIding your face in Dean’s chest, you let him hold you up as you shivered violently from the cold.

You both stood like for a while until your entire body was numb from the cold. After what seemed like an eternity, Dean reached over to turn off the water and pulled you with him out of the shower. He wrapped you up in a towel before slipping one of his shirts over your head and carried you back to your bed. He wrapped you back up in your blankets before stepping out of the room for a minute. When he came back, he was once again fully dressed. Dean brought a glass of water to your lips and made you drink half of it before he set the glass down and felt your forehead. Suddenly, Sam was stepping into the room again with a book. He started talking at a fast pace.

“I think Y/N’s illness was caused by her touching the spell book. I found some lore here that some witches would put curses on their spell books to keep people from being able to use them. If Y/N had read anything inside the book, she could have died. The lore says some cursed books can be so dangerous that just touching one can cause ‘disease to the bearer’.”

That didn’t sound good. In an impatient voice, Dean asked, ”I suspected as much. How do we fix it though?” You had started to lose focus again, fatigue was pulling you under as Sam explained the details to a cleansing ritual.

The next time you woke, you were surprised to find Dean sleeping next to you in bed, his large arm draped over your body. You had a slight headache and a hungry stomach but the aching fever was gone. You felt completely fine. Did they do the cleansing ritual or whatever? You gazed at Dean and his peacefully sleeping face and blushed remembering the events from the day before. Other than not puking, you had made a fool of yourself. Embarrassment heated your cheeks as you thought about falling out of the impala and being stripped down to take a cold shower. Dean had seen you in your underwear. You groaned and Dean stirred in his sleep before opening his eyes groggily. Looking up at you he smiled and asked you in a sleepy voice,

“How are you feeling sweetheart?”

“Much better...Uh thank you for taking care of me Dean. I didn’t know you could be so attentive and...motherly.” You giggled as Dean groaned and smacked you with a pillow at the last part of your statement. “Seriously. You’re good? No fever. No puking or anything?” Nodding, you leaned over and kissed his stubbled cheek. “I'm good. Thank you. You guys will have to fill me in on what happened but for now, I am going to go make us some breakfast.” Dean smiled and whispered, “Anytime Y/E. I’m just glad you're okay.”

His eyes were soft looking at you and you blushed before climbing out of bed. You blushed harder when you realized you weren't wearing pants and Dean laughed as you darted to your closet to find some. In a hurry, you got dressed and rushed out of your room, not missing Dean's teasing wink before you went.

Tags:

@akshi8278

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #sam winchester #garth #spn #supernatural #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction

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theasstour · 4 years

Photo

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟐𝟏𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

Tuesday, 4 August

There was a voice. It sounded far away, as if Y/N’s head was underwater and someone was talking above the surface, and she was swimming frantically to reach it. Oh, how she wanted to be close to that voice. How she wanted to wrap it around herself like a warm blanket, how it could build walls around her and keep her safe from oncoming storms. The world would be right if she could be around that voice and listen to it for eternity.

Slowly but surely, Y/N realised she was awake. It took her a few moments before she managed to place herself and see where she was. Bits and pieces from the previous night came back to her, making her bite her bottom lip as the giddiest grin spread out across her face. She squealed into her pillow, before looking properly around the now fully lit room, the pale morning sun that stood shining on the other side of the lighthouse made slight shadows appear around the room, but Y/N was wide awake now.

The voice she had heard was not a dream, it was Harry’s. She could hear him talking downstairs, the door into the lightkeeper bedroom open just a crack, his voice carrying up the one flight of stairs separating the station from the bedroom. She sat up in bed, looking around the room to realise that Harry’s jumper was still on the floor along with her clothes, making her feel very hot all of a sudden. There was just no way last night had happened. That her and Harry had opened up to one another like that and, only minutes later, had sex. In the lighthouse.

Y/N got out of bed, reaching for Harry’s red knitted jumper and put it on so she wasn’t only wearing her black knickers. Standing up, she tiptoed out of the room and down the stairs. However, though he was busy working, Harry must’ve heard her coming. He took a quick look over his shoulders at her before focusing back on writing something down in his notebook, listening to someone else talk over the speakers.

“Good morning, this is Lizard…”

Harry wrote down whatever was being spoken, clearly already having done his bit of reporting as she remembered him reporting fairly early on the last time she’d been with him. She walked over to a window, looking out at the cottage that had been unoccupied tonight, wondering if it had been weird for Harry to sleep in that room with her rather than his actual bed down there. The creak of his chair sounded as he leaned against its back, listening to the static across the speakers as two lighthouse keepers seemed to be conversing. Turning around, Y/N saw Harry staring ahead, as if listening intently to whatever was being said. She took this moment to walk over to him, gently laying a hand on his shoulder as not to take him completely off guard next.

She lifted her right leg, placing it on the other side of him and placing herself on his thighs. At first it seemed like it had taken him off guard, but as she settled into him, he placed his hands on her waist, bringing her closer to him. Instinctively, she placed her hands on either side of his neck, thumb resting under the tip of his jaw, making it impossible for him to look away from her. Not that he wanted to. He was smiling up at her, a small beam that had his deep dimples showing, a peaceful sort of look on his face that Y/N didn’t think she’d ever seen before. He reached upward, trying to steal a small peck from her, but she only bit her bottom lip, hovering a safe distance away from him. He let out a single breathy chuckle, mouth open in anticipation, were she to kiss him.

“Clodgy, the change of lightbulbs,” someone said, making Harry wrap an arm around Y/N’s waist, bringing her torso flush against his as he scooted the chair closer to the desk as best to answer his boss.

“Change of five lightbulbs at Clodgy August 3rd happened without disruptions,” Harry said into the end of his telephone, speaking over Y/N’s shoulder as he rested his chin on it. Y/N leaned down, kissing along his neck, nibbling slightly at his skin. She felt goosebumps appear down his back, a slight breath against the exposed skin of her shoulder. “They are all in working order.”

“Good,” said someone as Harry leaned back against the chair again, listening to the rest of what was being said as Y/N continued to kiss along his neck and jaw. He slid his hands down over her bum, giving it a light squeeze before he went to feel her thighs, gliding his nails ever so slightly along her skin. Reaching for her arse again, he brought his hands upward, bringing his jumper she was wearing up with him as he slid his hands up her back, feeling out every last bit of it like he had done last night when she’d been on top like this.

Y/N didn’t remember hearing a clear indication of the report meeting being over, but Harry took a firm grip of her thighs and arse, holding her to him as he rose from the chair. She wrapped her arms around him as he walked up the stairs again, humming against her skin as he kissed her neck and shoulder. Once back in the room, he threw her down on the bed again, making her squeal, and he followed after, wearing nothing but his pair of boxers and denim shorts. He grinned down at her, hoisting her legs around his waist. She gathered that he liked it when she wrapped them around him, heels resting at his buttocks.

“Bit mean that,” he mumbled against her lips. “Coming downstairs like that, wearing nothing but your knickers and me jumper.”

“Didn’t you like it?” she teased, grinning as he wiggled and settled in properly between her thighs.

“That’s a whole ‘nother bloody question, innit?”

She laughed, biting her bottom lip as he took a hold of her hands above her head, twining his fingers through hers.

“Of course I liked it, been thinking how you look amazing in that jumper.”

“You have?”

He nodded, sliding his nose along hers. “Shouldn’t have said that, should I? Been feeding your ego for the last 24 hours, dunno if you need more of that.”

She laughed again, grinning up at him as he grinned back. “Cheeky!”

He giggled, leaning down to hover his lips only inches from hers. “Speaking of being cheeky…” He slid his tongue discreetly over his lips, sliding them together before saying, “Why don’t we?”

“What?”

“Be cheeky.”

“We were cheeky all last night, weren’t we?”

“Hmm,” he hummed. “So what you’re saying is you’ve had enough of me?”

She smiled, letting go of his hands so she could play softly with the hair at the back of his neck. His eyes fluttered shut for a second. “I’ve barely gotten a taste of you.”

He grinned, leaning down and burying his face in her neck. “I like the sound of that.”

She wrapped her legs tighter around him, resting them at his buttocks and embracing him, bringing his weight down onto her. Slowly, he snaked his arms under her waist, wrapping his arms around her as well, just to feel her close. Closing her eyes again, she felt small pecks against her neck, slow and wet and tender as they traced her neck, collarbone, and jaw, taking in and covering what of her body he managed to without moving too much. She started running her hands through his hair, feeling him hum in delight against her, a slight smile covering his lips. Y/N wasn’t sure how long they lay there, tangled up in one another, not speaking a single word, just completely lost in each other’s closeness. It took a while before Harry spoke.

“I like this,” he mumbled, moving his head a bit away from her neck in order for her to hear him properly.

“Hmm, me too,” Y/N said, opening her eyes slowly.

“I like you.”

She couldn’t help her smile, moving her face so her nose touched Harry on the pillow. “I like you too.”

He smiled back, studying her face for a few seconds, silence settling over them for a minute or so. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“Promise not to, like, take the piss.”

“I’d never.”

Harry raised his eyebrows as if he did not believe that and Y/N laughed, knowing that he was completely right. “Don’t be a knobhead about this.”

“Tell me!”

“Alright,” Harry sighed, looking at her lips for a moment before he said, “I don’t… During sex I don’t usually take control.”

“Oh?” Y/N asked, resting her hand at the back of his neck again, sliding her fingers through his hair.

“I like to be bossed around a bit,” he explained. “I don’t usually do the bossing.”

“Why did you?”

“To be honest… I wanted to impress you. I didn’t want to disappoint, especially when I told you I’d make you come and all.”

“You don’t have to impress me, Harry.”

“I know, I just wanted to look a sex god, you know what I mean?” he said, making Y/N laugh. “I wanted us both to have a good time.”

She gave him a smile. “I was with you; I would’ve had a good time regardless.”

He took one of his hands out from under her, bringing it up to her cheek and slowly, gently, tenderly, he caressed her skin, sliding his thumb over her cheek and jaw. That crooked smile of his appeared on his face. “Hearing you say that makes me very happy.”

Her smile widened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Waking up here made me happy. I feel safe when I’m with you.”

“You’ll always be safe with me.”

She felt her cheeks heating up but didn’t feel embarrassed now that Harry would notice how flustered she was. He wrapped his arms around her again, closing his eyes as she dragged her hands up and down his back, a shiver shooting in a wave through him further down she reached.

“I want to bury myself with you and lay like this forever. I want our bodies to mould into one, that our corpses rot together-“

Y/N made a noise that sounded like something between a gag and laughter. “What are you on?!”

“Leave off, I’m just happy,” Harry chuckled, burying his face in her neck again. “Being happy makes me say weird things. Get used to it.”

Something inside Y/N was set on fire it seemed, because his words made her all warm and fuzzy, lulling her into a state of complete and utter contentment. She pulled a little at his hair, hoping he’d understand that she wanted to see his face. He only hummed, squeezing her tighter as if he liked it when she did that. Biting her bottom lip, she did it again, only to have him mumble a deep “Don’t stop” into her neck that made the heat from earlier concentrate on one particular place on her body. She pulled at him again, reaching up and kissing the tip of his jaw. This made him bring one arm to rest beside her head, lifting himself up and looking down at her with hooded eyes.

“Something I’ve been thinking about since last night,” he started.

“What’s that?”

“Your lips.”

She cocked her head a little to the side, letting her eyes fall to his, a slow smile settling over her lips. “What about them?”

“Missed them.”

“You did, did you?”

“Been wondering if I’ll ever have the privilege to taste you again.”

“Hmm.” She ran her hands down his back. “You don’t have to ask every time you want to kiss me.”

“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me when to kiss you. You’re the boss.”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “You want me to tell you what to do?”

“Use me.”

“I don’t want to use you.”

“Then-“ Harry sighed as he thought, making Y/N laugh. “Fuck’s sake. Take advantage of me. Tell me how to make you feel good. Command me.”

“You like that?”

“I fucking love it.”

“In that case,” she smiled, grinning up at him, adjusting her hips some and knowing exactly what she might be doing in the process.

Harry’s eyes grew a little darker and he leaned down, parting his lips slightly as he went in for a kiss.

“When you say ‘use me’,” Y/N started, wanting to get this very clear. “You mean you want me to take charge?”

“Essentially,” Harry answered. “Thing is, I like it when I can do something for you, you know what I mean?” He was quiet for a few seconds, his cheeks growing a little pink as he said, “I kind of get off when I know I get you off, does that make sense? If I know I’m making you feel good, I’m feeling good.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Y/N slid her finger down his neck.

“I also do like it when someone…” He blushed a little. “When someone puts their fingers up my bum when we’re shagging. It feels amazing.”

Y/N giggled. “Good to know.”

“What do you like?”

Y/N thought for a second, pursing her lips a little as she caressed Harry’s stubble. “I don’t know yet. I haven’t really explored or tried stuff, not like that anyway.”

Harry ran his hand over the top of her head, leaning down once again, his nose booping hers. “We’ll figure it out.”

The fact he said they’d figure this out together rather than her doing it alone, made her feel all fuzzy again. She couldn’t wait any longer. She reached up, kissing Harry on the lips and dragging him with her to the bed. It felt like an eternity since she had kissed him, though it had only been last night. If she could just stay there, in bed, in Clodgy Lighthouse, she didn’t think she’d ever complain about anything ever again. She’d be too happy to. She’d be right where she always wanted to be.

Harry breathed against her, moving so both his arms rested on either side of her face, holding himself up as they continued to kiss. The movement made them sink further into one another, appreciating the way he slid against her. Tired of being the one to bear all the weight – though she quite liked being cuddled up like that with him – she took a grip of his waist and tried to push him to the side. He must’ve understood what she wanted because he fell over, bumping his shoulder against the wall.

“Balls.”

Y/N laughed, and Harry smiled as he adjusted himself, sitting with his back against the wooden headrest. She straddled him and he pulled her closer, wanting her as near him as possible. Taking a light grip of his neck again, she reattached their lips, and they fell right where they’d left off. Harry gripped her thighs, moaning into her as their tongues met, his heart beating hard against Y/N’s chest. It seemed like their hearts started beating to the same rhythm. If they stayed like that long enough, would they become one? Would their hearts melt together, like they were supposed to? It didn’t seem far-fetched in that moment.

She couldn’t help the slight movement of her hips, mimicking what she had done last night. It got the exact reaction she had anticipated: Harry grabbing her thighs harder, instantly sliding up to rest at her rear. One of her hands came to rest at the back of his head, pulling slightly at the hair at the back of his neck like she had done earlier. Harry whimpered and she, much to her delight, felt him right there. Something that would normally have made Harry red with embarrassment just made him hungry for more and his kisses grew hungrier, wetter, deeper. She moved her hips over him again, making Harry move his legs a bit restlessly. However, he didn’t push it, and rather caressed all of Y/N as he slid his hands up and down her back under the red jumper.

Harry pressed harder against her, placing one of his hands at her neck and kissing down her jaw, tilting her head so he could touch his lips to her neck. The sensation of him paying so close attention to each little inch of her made her shut off the rest of the world. She was tuned in on Harry, on how he felt, tasted, smelt, the explosion of feelings inside her chest when they were close like this. Nothing would ever be better. She sought out his lips again, pushing him back against the headrest, resting one of her hands against the wall just above it, the other on his bare shoulder. Harry moaned again, unable to control himself.

“You’re so hot,” he mumbled, and she could feel herself smiling at the compliment, enjoying the feeling of his growing bulge beneath her.

They sat there just kissing for so long they completely lost track of time. Utterly, truly, absolutely lost in one another and the electricity they created. It didn’t seem important to them that Y/N had to revise for the UCAT, and Harry had loads of work to do, nothing but their company mattered. Nothing but this.

“Harry!”

They stopped kissing abruptly, looking to the window that led out to the courtyard beyond.

“Harry, where are you?!”

“Fuck,” Harry said, voice hoarse with disappointment as he glanced back up at Y/N. “Grace usually comes over in the mornings.”

“I know.”

Harry smiled, nodding his head as if he already knew that she knew. She smiled back at him, just seeing him beam made her return it right away. It was some sort of instinct.

“Harry!”

“Blimey.” Harry helped Y/N get off him, getting out of bed himself. “She’s a right pest, I’m up here having a grand time and she shows up.”

“She’s your sister.”

“And you’re my girlfriend,” Harry said, opening the window and looking out at Grace. Harry’s eyes grew wide as if he remembered something. “I-I mean…” Harry looked back at Y/N, quickly looking away when he saw her eyes on him. “I mean… Like, you’re my fake girlfriend-“

“-Harry!” Grace screamed. “Why are you there?!”

“I’m working, Grace!”

“Well, come down here!”

Harry sighed, running his hands over his face. “Right, I’m gonna need to go down there before she starts rummaging through my sweets drawer.”

Y/N gasped. “You have a sweets drawer?”

“Only for the times my blood sugar is low. Usually have some milk and some chocolate if it happens late at night.”

“Oh, well, that’s smart then.”

Harry chuckled, taking his socks and shoes on. “It is. Not only a sex god but the man’s got brains too.”

Y/N laughed and Harry grinned at her, leaning down onto the bed again so he could plant another kiss to her lips. She placed her hands at his neck again, and he moaned into her, kissing her bottom lip again.

“Harry!”

“Coming!”

He sent Y/N a look before took two steps toward the door, he looked over his shoulder at her, shaking his head as if he couldn’t properly believe this still, and then walked out. Y/N got up, looking out the window to see Harry greet Grace. The two walked toward Harry’s cottage, Grace skipping beside him. She smiled as she watched them, making sure they were inside before she started putting her clothes on. She put her green jumper over her shoulders and tied the arms at her chest, showing off her white summer dress and black rain boots. Folding Harry’s red jumper, she walked back downstairs and to the cottage, hearing Grace’s laughter the second she walked through the door.

“Y/N!” Grace ran over and Y/N hunched down, hugging Grace back. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

“To prep for the end of summer party? Yeah, of course,” Y/N smiled, adjusting the headband on Grace’s head that she had given her for her birthday in the beginning of summer. It felt like forever ago. “I’m gonna go buy some veggie food now.”

“You’re leaving?”

She glanced up at Harry who was now wearing a white Britney Spears tee shirt, brewing a new batch of tea for the two of them. He seemed a bit taken back by her sudden departure, but they hadn’t talked about her sticking around after staying the night. Though she would’ve loved to stay, she simply did not have the time. She had so much to do before going to the farm to help out that she couldn’t stay.

“Yeah, I need to revise, knit some with Bessie and the ladies, buy the veggie food, have a shower and maybe revise some more.”

“Stay,” Harry said, voice urgent. “Just… I’ll…” He looked about the room as if he was trying to find a reason for her to stick around a bit longer.

“What were you doing in the lighthouse?” Grace asked, looking back at Harry who was biting his lips together, eyes getting as big as bowling balls when an idea struck him.

“I was reporting,” he explained. “And I’m gonna show Y/N how to do just that now.”

“Now?”

But Y/N didn’t get another word out before Harry walked up to her, taking her hand and bringing her out the door again. Grace, happy that something was finally happening, squealed as she followed the two others out, a skip to her step that would only appear when she was excited about something. Harry smiled back at her, probably thinking himself very clever, Y/N thought, for having come up with this all so very quickly. He dragged her over to a small cupboard of sorts that stood a bit away from the lighthouse, and while Harry focused on that, Grace danced around them, humming along to a new melody.

“Right,” Harry said, clapping his hands together. “When we’re reporting the weather there are three different factors we need to look into. We do our local report, which is essentially how clear the weather is – if it’s cloudy or not, for example – and the wind condition as well as the temperature. So, today at 3 I said ‘Clodgy is clear, 15, calm, and rippled’, yeah?”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

Harry smiled. “So, at 3 and 6 we only do a local report, while at 9 and every other part of the day, we have to do a supplemental, where we take a closer look at our cloud cover and temperatures, and then we do our climate, which looks at temperatures throughout the day.” Harry pointed to a transparent instrument by the side of the cupboard they were standing in front of. “First when we’re gonna do an in-depth report, we check our rain gauge. It’s simple, really.” Harry leaned forward, pointing to the measurements on the side. “We take a look at all the water that’s inside, measure it, remember the number, and, once we’re done, we chuck that water away, and put it back. We then record the amount of rainfall down in our book in the lighthouse.”

Y/N leaned closer to look at the rain gauge. “There’s no water now.”

“Hasn’t rained since last night.” Harry pointed to the cupboards next. “This is the Stevenson Screen.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows slightly but nodded along, watching as Harry reached for the top and pulled the front screen down.

“Inside it there are four different thermometers that tell us different things. We have maximum temperature, minimum temperature, dry temperature, and wet temperature,” Harry explained, pointing to each of the different thermometers inside the Stevenson Screen. “We check all those temperatures, make sure we get all the information we need, and then we use that to calculate back at the lighthouse.”

Taking a small step closer to get a better look, Y/N felt something hot against the small of her back. Though it hadn’t been long since Harry had touched her last, she still missed his closeness.

“I use this,” Harry said, reaching for a magnifying glass that lay inside the Screen. “That way I know I won’t get the temperature wrong. Now, what do you think the maximum temperature is?”

Y/N giggled. “Feels like I’m back at school.”

“You’re attending St Styles Lighthouse Keeper University.”

She laughed, taking the magnifying glass out of Harry’s hand as he turned to look at her, a massive beam on his face. “You’ll be a good teacher, I hope.”

“The best.”

“Good, ‘cause I had amazing teachers at school, so you have a lot to live up to.”

Harry studied her for a few seconds as she looked at the temperatures, muttering them under her breath, Harry nodded along to indicate that she was correct. “You liked your teachers at school then?”

“Yeah, my parents didn’t often tell me that I was good at anything, but my teachers always did. They were the most positive aspect of my life, to be fair,” Y/N explained. “Miss Utterson was the one that encouraged me to take the UCAT, she’s a big reason why I’m doing it now.”

Harry smiled, nodding along. “Teachers make all the difference, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed. “Anyway, what do you teach at this Lighthouse Keeper University?”

Harry’s hand came to rest on her hip, pulling her even closer to him. “Next lecture is inside the cottage when we’re alone. Bedroom Etiquette.”

A shiver ran up her smile. “Oh?”

“Would hope you’d be the teacher in that one.”

“Hmm, I’ll step in as a substitute.”

“Fuck being a substitute, you’re the main lecturer.”

“Harry!” Grace sang from a little distance away; Y/N instantly took a small step away from him as his little sister came closer. “I want to go to Zennor on a picnic soon.”

“We’ll do that another day, Gracie, yeah?”

Grace nodded and ran off again.

Harry turned back to the Stevenson Screen. “Once we’ve checked the thermometers, we need to reset them. You only need to reset the minimum and the maximum thermometers. The minimum, the yellow one,” Harry said, pointing to the one in question. “You just detach it like so, and then raise it up so it’s vertical instead of horizontal, keep it like that for a few seconds inside the box, and then put it back.” Harry demonstrated as he talked, keeping close to Y/N the whole time. “And the maximum one, you need to flick.” Harry reached for the red one and brought it out, flicking it three times before putting it back again. “That resets them both. Then you just check to see that they’re all equal, you do that using the magnifying glass.”

Harry closed the Screen and led the way back into the lighthouse, Grace running in after them. Harry quickly closed the door into the lightkeeper bedroom, not wanting Grace to see that him and Y/N had spent the night there. Standing by the little office, Harry brought his book forth and pointed to the places where Y/N would write the numbers from the rain gauge and Stevenson Screen, showing her what he’d written that very morning. There was a specific way to calculate the dew point, and though it was complicated, Y/N found it rather fascinating.

“You mentioned local, supplemental, and climate reports earlier,” Y/N said.

“Want me to explain them?”

“Please.”

“A local report is a photo of what the weather looks like at a particular time, so that’s why we report that every single time we do a weather report, the most basic one for a lighthouse keeper,” Harry explained. “First thing you’d wanna look at is sky condition, so essentially cloud cover. So, it’s clear when there are no clouds, partly cloudy when about 50% of the sky is covered in clouds, from 50% till you can only barely make out some blue dots every here and there, that’s cloudy, and if you can’t see any of the sky, that’s overcast.”

“Right.”

“Second thing you’d look at is your distance of visibility. So, you take a look at your conditions and see if you can make out 15 miles out on the sea. You note if your visibility is limited due to fog, due to weather, due to anything along those lines.” Harry leaned against the wall as Y/N looked through the report book on the desk before her. “Third is our weather column, which is essentially what the weather is doing at that very moment, if it makes sense. You’d report things like rain, snow, fog, drizzle, rain showers, and the like. You also wanna look at wind, but that’s just the direction and the speed, and ‘cause we’re not out on sea and a little sheltered by land, we don’t normally see anything besides calm and rippled. I don’t think I’ve really experienced wind over 15 knots.”

“That’s good.”

Harry nodded. “And that’s what you do with a local report.”

“And the other two?”

Harry smiled and started explaining. She liked to listen to him talk about his lightkeeper duties, he got so passionate and so technical that everything he said sounded interesting. Besides, he’d raise his eyebrows just ever so slightly if what he was talking about was really interesting to him, a trait that Y/N had picked up on and always searched for when she got him talking like this. All while he explained the rest to her, she focused all the way through, but felt those butterflies in her tummy come to life again.

Passion was contagious, she reckoned, because whenever someone showed you theirs, you immediately - in whatever tiny or massive scope - found a new passion within theirs, or it made you love your own even more. There was life within that, a force and love more powerful than many people realised. And if she should be alive, it would simply be enough to only listen to Harry talk about his passions. She could not think of a greater reason to continue on existing herself. She felt so alive, so much love, so much adoration that it must radiate from her. It existed outside her own body, beyond her simple human brain comprehension. That was how it felt, being with Harry and knowing he felt the same way.

The three of them walked out of the lighthouse and back to the cottage, but Y/N stopped by the door, smiling at the two.

“I really need to leave now.”

Harry sighed. “Alright then.”

“Didn’t think I ever asked for your permission,” Y/N chuckled.

“But you have it either way.”

Grace took Y/N’s hand. “We’ll pick you up,” she smiled, and Y/N smiled back at her.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “We’ll pick you up.”

“Great, just send a text when you’ll be there, and I’ll come out.” Y/N beamed at them both and mouthed a ‘bye’ at Harry. She didn’t want to make a big scene in front of Grace. After all, she was only seven and Y/N was unaware of how much Harry wanted her to see. But he didn’t really seem to care. Just having walked across half the courtyard, she heard her name being called from the door of the cottage.

“You forgot your raincoat,” Harry said, holding it in his hand.

“You forgot your raincoat!” Grace screamed, her hands on either side of her face.

Y/N smiled and came back, but not before Harry walked over to his van and unlocked it, opening the door to the backseat for Grace who jumped in without question.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re driving you home,” Harry answered, opening the driver seat door and getting in, throwing Y/N’s raincoat into the passenger seat.

“You’ve got things to do-“

“-The thing I need to do right now is drive you home,” Harry said through the open driver side window. “I don’t want you to leave.”

She smiled at him. “I won’t leave you, I’m just going back to revise and stuff for a few hours.”

Harry only nodded, starting the engine and looking away from her, as if he didn’t quite believe what she was saying. Y/N didn’t bother to fight him, instead she walked to the other side of the car and got in, Grace started talking right away, chatting about how ready she was for school to start again soon. Harry drove away down the gravel path, reaching over and taking Y/N’s hand in his. The sun shone through the car window just as he brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her hand that made Y/N hot with delight. She wanted Harry to turn the car around so they could go back to the lighthouse. Go back to bed and spend all day tangled up in one another, not saving a single thought for anything or anyone else.

As they reached the Inn, Y/N got out and walked to the pavement where Harry was parked, window still down and eyes following her the entire way. She walked over to him and placed her hands against the door as she leaned in, Harry taking a gentle grip of the back of her neck as she kissed him. They both smiled into the kiss, unable to help themselves; overcome with joy and need to be constantly around and touching the other.

“I’ll miss you,” Harry said against her lips as they pulled away.

“You’ll see me in a few hours.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

Y/N giggled, placed another peck to his lips and walked indoors, watching as the van pulled away, driving back towards the lighthouse. She strolled upstairs, had a quick shower before she looked for her small tote bag where she kept her knitting stuff. Bessie, Camila, Barb, and Florence were already sitting in the back garden when Y/N came down, everyone coming with exclamations of joy at seeing her face. She got her squares out and started up where she had previously left off, now about to sew them all together. Nuzzling up next to Bessie, she made the older woman show her how to sew them together again, just wanting to make sure she was doing it right before she threw herself into it again. Though she had been at this stage for quite a while, she always liked to get a quick briefing with Bessie before she started up again.

The red and yellow squares looked great next to one another, the other rows she had sewn together were also solid. She knew what she wanted to do, knew how she wanted it to look, and when she had drawn the sketch for it the other day, Bessie had been mighty impressed. The week Y/N had spent mostly away from Harry because of the awkward tension had been spent mostly in the back garden with the ladies or in her room sewing the cardigan together. It now looked like something that could be presentable, that could be used.

“Oh,” Bessie suddenly said. “You got a visitor earlier, told them to wait in the dining area ‘cause you’d be back soon.”

“Spent the night at the lighthouse, did you?” Camila asked, her eyebrows high on her forehead and a cheeky smile on her face. The other ladies giggled amongst themselves and Y/N felt her cheeks flare up. “Bessie told us she didn’t hear you come back.”

Y/N stuck her tongue out at Bessie before she placed her squares on the table in the middle. “Hope they haven’t left yet then.”

She walked from the ladies and made her way over to the door, walking through it and taking a left into the dining area. She stopped dead in her tracks. She was sure she could recognise that stance anywhere. Could recognise the clothing, the short black hair, the hazel eyes, his expensive watch. He could’ve stood among thousands, and Y/N would still be able to pick him out. She usually sensed him, knew when he was near. But her senses had failed her this time. Just when she was starting to let her guard down. He must’ve heard her footsteps and how abruptly she stopped walking, because he looked up at her as if he had expected her arrival for quite some time now. As if he had been seated in that exact position that entire morning. Keeping watch over the street, the cars that came and went, the people.

“Y/N,” he said, and she suddenly realised how much she had tried to suppress his voice.

“Dom,” Y/N uttered, her voice sounding as weak and pathetic as she felt. How had she thought that she could escape her life in Winchester? Had she not thought they would come after her? That Dominic would be seated in The Roaming Crab Inn waiting for her at some point.

He smiled at her as he leaned back in the chair he was sitting in by the window, looking out at a particular spot on the street.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked him, hoping that he couldn’t guess how scared she was.

“What do you think I’m doing here, Y/N?” He looked back at her, as calm as ever.

“I… I dunno.”

He huffed. “You even talk like them now.”

“Like who?”

“Anyone from around here,” he said, as if it wasn’t already obvious. “Now, back to your question, what am I doing here?”

Y/N balled some of her summer dress into her fist, trying to relax. “I don’t know.”

“Precisely,” Dominic answered. “You don’t know.”

Y/N felt a very familiar feeling rush over her, that same one that would lurk at the back of her mind whenever she had been around her family and Dom. One she had thought was normal to experience around people that were clearly smarter than you and thought what was best for you. Humiliation, shame, not being good enough.

“I’m taking you home with me, this has been going on for too long.”

“What do you mean?”

“This rebellious side of yours? The one you’ve never shown before? The one none of us thought you had in you, why did it come just now? Why did it have to come just then? Did you realise you hadn’t gone on a little vacation by yourself, so you travelled to one of the least attractive places in Cornwall and decided to live out your dreams as… what, exactly? A revolutionary?”

“I’m not coming back to Winchester.”

“Yes, you are.”

“It’s not my home anymore.”

Dominic let out a small laugh, sitting back in his chair again. “And why is that?”

Y/N opened her mouth to say something when Dominic looked away from her again, eyes on the street, the exact spot he had stared at before. A sudden realisation came over her and she felt ice cold. She had not been this cold since arriving in St Ives.

“Gotten yourself a little summer fling, have you?” Dominic asked. She never noticed how void of proper emotion his voice was. Especially when he was angry. “Decided you’d come down here and act like a slag because your parents wouldn’t allow you to do that back home?”

“It’s not my home anymore.”

“You’re being pathetic.”

“And he’s not a summer fling, he’s way more than that,” Y/N said, suddenly feeling very protective and angry. Dominic did not get to talk about Harry like that. “Don’t talk about him.”

“I think I will, I think he’s a very big part of this, from what I gather,” Dominic uttered, pointing out towards the street where Harry’s van had been and raising his eyebrows as he glanced back at Y/N. “Asked that lovely Bessie, told me he was the lighthouse keeper. Can’t believe you’ve gone from being offered marriage by one of the most promising businessmen in London, to fucking a lighthouse keeper in an insignificant village in Cornwall.”

Y/N felt like she was a pot about to boil over. In another universe, she would have jumped Dominic and probably strangled him to death for even talking about Harry like that, referring to him as insignificant when he was so, so, so much more than that. And she’d make sure to torture him just a little bit for saying such vulgar things about her as well. He did not get to come to St Ives, say these things, and leave not knowing that Y/N did not bloody despise him for even opening his mouth in the first place.

During her time here she had realised how horribly she had hated her life in Hampshire, and that she deserved much more. She deserved to feel like the sun was shining from inside her own chest, that she could make great things happen. But with her parents and Dominic around, it had been like constant night-time. She hadn’t gotten to shine like she was supposed to.

“Is he just someone you let fuck you until you’re bored of playing rebel? Or are you fucking him-“

“-Don’t talk about me like that.”

Dominic stopped at once, clearly startled by her warning. It took him a moment before he regained his composure. “Y/N, you’ve been confused about what you want in life, we get it, but this has been going on for too long and we’re all waiting for you back home.”

“What… what I want in life?”

“Yes.” Dominic got up from his chair with a big sigh. “I understand that when I proposed to you, it might’ve been a bit too much, too soon.”

Y/N was lost for words.

“But I love you and I won’t stop fighting for us.”

“Dom, it’s been over for a while now. For almost three months.”

“Are you ready to throw three years of us away for a sort of quarter-life crisis you’re going through because I asked you to marry me?”

Y/N hadn’t thought about the proposal for a few days, it would eventually pop up in her head and torment her, but she guessed that was a good thing. It was a good thing that she remembered the reason why she left. She still remembered Dominic taking her out for dinner that night, and how he had proposed to her in the cathedral grounds only minutes after they left, the cathedral lighting up blue and the park deserted except for the two of them. It had been a nice location, even fairly romantic if it had been spent with someone she had genuinely been in love with, but that was the problem, she hadn’t been in love with Dominic.

Her whole life flashed before her eyes when he got down onto one knee. She stood still, just looking at him as if he were insane. She felt empty at first, as if she were totally alone and nothing around her mattered. Then, the next second, when Dominic said her name, she felt like she was jolted right out of a trance. Not the one she had presumably been in when he had gotten down on one knee, not the shock of the moment, no this was something else. As if someone had snapped their fingers right before her eyes, she realised that this was not what she wanted. Her entire life didn’t make sense. After telling Dominic no, the two had stared at each other for an eternity before Y/N ran back home. She didn’t even want to think about what happened there.

“Y/N, come on.”

“I’m not coming back there with you,” she said again, more firmly this time so he’d hear her correctly. It didn’t seem like he had the first time around.

“Don’t be like this.” Dominic took a step forward, reaching for her arm. She stepped out of his reach.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Y/N.” He tried again.

“No, Dom.”

“Stop acting like a child. Your parents will be here soon, you can’t act like this in front of them.”

Y/N froze. Dread filled her up from her toes and all the way up to her head, through each strand of hair and cell in her body. Instantly, she felt an urge to run. She didn’t want to be here when they eventually came. She didn’t want to face them, didn’t want to tell them what she was planning on doing and that she wanted nothing more to do with them.

“Y/N dear?” Bessie walked in through the back door, looking between Y/N and Dominic with suspicious eyes. “We heard some voices. You alright, me lover?”

“Yeah, I just…” Y/N focused all her attention on Dominic. “I was just saying goodbye to Dominic, then I need to go upstairs for a bit.”

“You’re not leaving now,” Dominic said in a low voice, reaching once again for Y/N’s hand, but she retracted. Bessie must have noticed something in Y/N’s body language because she stepped forward, twining her arm around Y/N’s.

“Lovely to see you, Dominic, but if you don’t mind, Y/N has a cardigan she needs to finish.”

Dominic would never make a scene, so he didn’t walk after Y/N and Bessie as they walked outside either. Y/N didn’t dare look over her shoulder to see if he chose to stay or leave, not knowing if she really wanted to know the answer.

Bessie placed her hand on Y/N’s thigh once they sat back down again, smiling at her as the others continued on with their conversation. “Alright?”

Y/N only nodded, not ready to tell Bessie that she was not.

Y/N stood by the door, wearing her red mini smock dress, the ditsy floral print on it making the outfit a bit fun and light because she reckoned she wouldn’t be much of that today. Her window was open, but she didn’t want to stand beside it and look out, worried who she might see standing outside if she did. Or who might see her. She waited by the door till she heard the familiar sound of Harry’s van, and then, quickly, she closed the window and her blinds and walked downstairs. On her way down she didn’t dare to look at the dining area, too afraid to find Dom still sitting there and taunting her. His arrival had been the fire that had lit the match, now all Y/N was waiting for was the bomb to explode and ruin everything she had built in St Ives.

“Hi, Y/N!” Grace shouted as Y/N opened the passenger side door.

“Hi,” Harry grinned, his entire face was lit up and a few of Y/N’s butterflies started fluttering around in her stomach again. The mere sight of him made her entire body buzz with excitement, but her fear immediately shut the eruption of emotion inside her down. She climbed into the van and shut the door behind her. At once, Y/N recognised Harry’s favourite’s playlist playing from the speakers, the volume of Everybody Wants to Rule the World having been turned down as not to overwhelm Y/N once she stepped inside.

“You forgot your raincoat again,” Grace said, sounding like she was giggling. “Harry left it at the cottage.”

“Should’ve brought it, would’ve been easier,” he said, and Y/N felt his eyes on her as she kept hers firmly set on the road in front of them. She knew that he was studying her, that he had instantly sensed that something was off. It was a blessing and a curse that she had connected with Harry on such a deep level. Now, whenever something was bothering her or she wasn’t quite herself, he noticed it, and the other way around. They had been around one another so much these last few months, they knew exactly what to look for and what would give the other away. Y/N suspected both her refusal to meet Harry’s eyes and her silence since entering the car was what had gotten Harry to study her.

She forced herself to look over at him and give him a small smile, something he returned, but she could tell he knew something was off. And, because she was acting weird, he would as well.

“Hey,” Harry said as Grace started singing along to the song in the backseat. He leaned a little closer to Y/N, a furrow to his brows that she knew only appeared when he was worried. She hated she was the one that put it there. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’ve just been reading all day. My head’s a bit all over the place.”

Harry’s furrow deepened. “You shouldn’t exhaust yourself, flower.”

“I’m not,” she assured, shaking her head a little. “There were just a lot of things to take in. The UCAT reading’s just been a bit heavy recently. You don’t have to worry.”

“That’s not really a decision I can consciously make myself.”

“Harry, why aren’t you driving?”

At Grace’s question, Harry sighed heavily, but began driving right away. They zoomed out of the city centre and to the farm. When they arrived, Jessa was already standing by the gate, waving at them enthusiastically. Y/N did the mano po, and followed Jessa inside so she could put the food Y/N had brought into the fridge. Lolo beamed at Y/N as she did the mano po, telling her how excited he was to have her there with them.

“Alright,” Jessa said, looking over Y/N’s shoulder after a few hours of food-prepping. “And then you put the green onion, water chestnuts, carrots, garlic, soy sauce, salt and pepper in the bowl and mix until it’s well distributed.”

Y/N nodded, putting everything into the bowl beside her and then started mixing with a wooden spoon as Jessa sat down opposite her again. The kitchen was lit to make it easier for everyone to chop, stir, or whatever else they were doing, though the sun had yet to set outside, so some of the late afternoon light still streamed through the kitchen windows.

“I should write you a recipe book,” Jessa chuckled, grinning over at Y/N. “With vegetarian Filipino recipes and everything else you might like.”

Y/N smiled back, looking down into the bowl to see it all well mixed. She glanced down at the recipe in front of her, reading what she was supposed to do next, and then reaching for the wrappers to put a tablespoon of mixture onto each individual wrapper. Y/N was very happy that Jessa was teaching her how to make vegetarian lumpia for the end of summer party. It was her favourite thing she had tasted all summer and she would memorise the recipe and use it many times over, she was sure. She wasn’t sure if she’d be around to receive the recipe book Jessa was talking about.

“Can you add halo halo to the recipe book as well, nay?” asked Grace who was looking at lolo as he sewed the head of one of Grace’s stuffed animals back on. “Maybe I can teach Y/N how to make it.”

“But if you do that, why don’t you write it down in the recipe book?” Jessa raised her eyebrows at her daughter, giving her a smile to tell her she was only joking.

Grace groaned and started bickering, but it only made Jessa and lolo laugh. Y/N, who had barely said a single word since arriving, tuned them out. Ever since this morning, she had just tuned out the outside world every once in a while, thinking about Dom and her parents, thinking about what could happen if they were to actually show up in St Ives. She sat in her room at the Inn shaking because she was so uncertain, so scared, of what would happen next. She had known that everything would catch up to her at some point, but she had not been prepared after the night and morning she just shared with Harry. Her guard had been down, she had allowed herself to feel untouchable; safe. When in reality, she was not.

She felt a nudge against her elbow, and when she looked to her left, Harry was already staring at her, in the middle of cutting some carrots. “You alright?” he whispered as Jessa laughed at something Grace said.

“Yeah,” Y/N whispered back, giving him an unconvincing smile before she turned back to the lumpia. The less she looked at Harry, the easier it would be to lie. He could see right through her now, and though that would usually be seen as a good thing, Y/N hated that fact right now.

She could tell that Harry was watching her for a few moments more, but was quickly brought out of his reverie when Jessa said his name.

“Gracie wants to pick some flowers.”

“Yeah? Can’t she do that by herself?”

Grace walked over to Harry and tugged at his arm. “We need new flowers in the living room, Harry.”

“We’re in the middle of making food for a horde of people, I don’t have the time, Gracie,” Harry said, making Grace stick her bottom lip out at him. He groaned. “Fine, but only for five minutes. Lolo?”

Lolo looked up at them, staring between an energetic Grace who was jumping up and down, and the exasperated Harry who just wanted to stay indoors and help Jessa. He smiled, thinking this might be something of an interesting combination to watch, so he got up from his seat and followed them outside. Harry glanced over his shoulder at Y/N, making sure to catch her eyes.

“Be back in a bit, yeah?”

She only smiled at him before he disappeared outside, walking at lolo’s pace while Grace ran towards the gate that led to the small field beyond where a few colourful flowers grew. Y/N took a deep breath, turning to the lumpia once again, trying to read some of the directions in the recipe but her mind suddenly wandered elsewhere.

“They’re a wonderful few, aren’t they?” Jessa said, and when Y/N glanced up at Harry’s stepmother, she was smiling, craning her neck to get a good look at her family. “I do sometimes wonder how I got so lucky, to have a son and a daughter that get along. Of course, he does everything to make her happy, even when he doesn’t want to do what she tells him to.” Jessa laughed heartily. “But she’s so incredibly lucky to have him, and him her. And amá is grateful for both of them, even though Gracie can be a handful sometimes.”

The amount of warmth and love that radiated off of Jessa when she talked about her family made the entire room shine a little brighter, gave colour to things that were otherwise dull, and made the birds outside chirp a little louder. Y/N felt it latch onto her, made her much appreciative of Jessa and the three outside. She glanced out, her eyes instantly falling on Harry, who was smiling at Grace, and lolo, who was talking to him. Whenever Harry was happy or peaceful, it was so incredibly visible on his face. That was something he could never hide, when he was happy.

“I sometimes wonder what it’s like to have a family like that,” Y/N suddenly said, not aware of what she was saying until it was out there. “Where love is constant.”

Y/N was aware that Jessa was watching her, contemplating Y/N’s words carefully. Suddenly aware that she had indirectly told Jessa that her family was complicated and without a fraction of the amount of love that was part of theirs, Y/N went back to prepping the lumpia.

“I noticed that you haven’t been as talkative as you usually are today,” Jessa said, her voice soft and deliberate as she spoke. “Is it because you have been thinking about your family back home? Do you miss them?”

“No.” The answer was out in the open so quickly that Y/N blinked a little, shocking herself. “I just… I dunno why I ended up with the family I did. When I was younger I used to think that I must’ve been swapped at the hospital, ‘cause surely I didn’t deserve…” She paused. “I was always so jealous of everyone at school with their mums and dads, ‘cause they would carry them and play with them, but mine never really did. I still get jealous. I wish I had something like this growing up.”

Y/N refused to look at Jessa, afraid of what she would see. The silence stretched on and Y/N continued to prep all the lumpia, being careful not to spill anything. Grace laughed loudly at something outside and she heard something joining her, sounding like lolo’s laughter, though Y/N had never heard it before so she couldn’t be certain. A lump started appearing in Y/N’s throat.

“What even is family?” Jessa said, her voice just as warm as when she talked about Harry, Grace, and lolo. Y/N glanced up at her, seeing that same smile on her face and feeling her eyes begin to sting instantly. “Family is what you want it to be. If you don’t want to be part of your birth family in Hampshire, then that is completely fine. You curate your life and weed out the people you don’t need.”

“But what if they want back in your life?” Y/N asked. “What if my family doesn’t want to let go of me?”

“That’s their problem, isn’t it?” Jessa smiled. “You can’t live your life for someone else. You were put on this earth to be yourself; you have something to give back to humanity, yourself and the people around you that no one else can. How ever will you manage that if the people around you are holding you back from being your true self?”

Y/N looked down at the mixture in the bowl beside her, willing herself not to cry because she could feel it coming on. As if an angel had come down from heaven to console her, Jessa placed her hand on top of Y/N’s, squeezing her ever so slightly.

“Darling, you do not need them. You are here now.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, shrugging her shoulders. She had no idea what to do. Dom was here, her parents would be here soon, and if she didn’t leave St Ives or tell someone what was actually going on soon, they would show up and ruin absolutely everything. They would do so regardless. She didn’t know why she’d ever thought otherwise.

“Who cares where you’re from, what you are, who you are, what family you used to belong to… love does not care. It doesn’t care about any of that. Love exists without restrictions, without limitations, without questions. Those that put ultimatums to love, don’t love fully and they don’t deserve you. There are no ultimatums here, Y/N. You are loved fully, wholly, and unconditionally. You’re home now, with us.”

Her heart beat so fast and her entire body was warm with love and adoration. Jessa had managed to tell Y/N something she had needed to hear for a very long time, and Y/N hadn’t been aware that she needed it till just that second. A tear escaped Y/N’s eye and Jessa huffed at her, wiping it away quickly, smiling that warm smile that made everyone around her soar with happiness. The door into the house opened again and Grace ran into the kitchen, Jessa and Y/N broke apart instantly. They had both been aware that the moment they just shared was to stay between the two of them only.

“Nanay! Look!”

“How beautiful!” Jessa exclaimed, getting up from her chair to fill up a glass with water so Grace could go put the bouquet in the living room. “I am so lucky I have my own florist!”

Grace giggled and walked to the living room just as Harry and lolo came back into the kitchen. Jessa met Y/N’s eyes again, giving her that smile and a small wink. Though everything Jessa had said would stay with Y/N forever, though this moment had been more precious to her than any moment spent with her actual mother, Y/N still knew what she had to do. She had allowed herself to feel safe in St Ives, untouchable by anything because of the amount of love she had been bathing in, but she could see the tidal wave approaching in the distance now, and there was no telling how much destruction it would leave in its wake.

Wednesday, 5 August

They were quiet on the drive to Zennor. Y/N had barely gotten any sleep last night, waking up at the slightest sound of anything to check the room and the streets below, ready to see her parents walking down at any second to get her. Rationally, she knew she was overreacting. They would never come during the night, they weren’t weird and sketchy like that, but Y/N was so scared of being dragged away against her own will that she was ready at any moment to get up and run off. This was the first time in her life that she had taken control of her own life. She had never before done anything for herself and what she wanted, but she was doing that now and she didn’t want anyone to take that away from her. Especially the two that had taken most from her in the last 25 years.

Y/N had been so deep inside her own head that she barely noticed that they had pulled up to the Zennor cliffs. Harry unbuckled his seatbelt, checked to make sure Grace managed her own in the back, and then got out. Y/N followed the two, bringing the picnic basket out with her as it had rested in her lap on the way here. Though it was fairly windy up there as it was, Harry managed to lay the picnic blanket out for them without too much difficulty. Grace, who had been singing most of the time there, hummed along to the same melody she had been singing to while Harry taught Y/N how to report the weather at the lighthouse. But from the times before, when she had caught Grace humming to something, she guessed it was one of Harry’s new pieces that he had been working on.

“Patience, Gracie,” Harry said as he sat down, offering to take the hamper so Y/N could sit down without difficulty. Y/N gave it to him and sat down, looking back toward the van for a quick second only to make sure. She hadn’t seen Dominic since he came to the Inn yesterday, and though she was sure he wouldn’t follow them all the way out there, she still found it weird that he hadn’t shown up at the Inn again or tried to look for her. He had just disappeared.

“Flower.”

Y/N looked in Harry’s direction, heart fluttering at the sound of that name.

“Alright?” he asked, eyes scanning her face for a few seconds.

She only nodded, turning to the picnic hamper to get one of the vegetarian pasties Bessie had made for her to bring. Grace was already eating something Jessa had made her, looking out over the ocean beyond the cliffs and squinting a little at the sun in her eyes. Harry took the heart-shaped sunglasses off the top of his head, perching them on Grace’s nose, smiling when she giggled to herself, pushing them further up. Y/N still remembered the day she had given them to Harry by mistake, how he had, without hesitation, begun to use them more and more. Sometimes, she would wear something and wish she still had them, but then she remembered how good Harry looked with them on and she was suddenly glad she didn’t own them anymore.

Harry pulled his camera out of the hamper, getting up to film Y/N and Grace as they ate and then the scenery around them, taking his sweet time to get it all on tape. He walked over, sat down, and reached for the hamper as well, pulling a toastie out and giving each of them a bottle of water. With that, he focused on eating, eyes falling into the landscape, studying nothing in particular. Y/N quickly started thinking about everything again, dreading when they’d actually have to return to St Ives later because she didn’t know what would be there waiting for her. Never before had she ever not wanted to return to St Ives. She always wanted to be in St Ives.

A wind blew past them, ruffling up Y/N’s hair. She took the time for just a few seconds to look around. The ocean was as blue as it was in St Ives, but it almost seemed turquoise as it reached closer to land, glittering in the powerful sun overhead. Green grass surrounded them, a few bushes here and there with different coloured flowers in them. Their surroundings were not as flat at Clodgy was, but definitely flat enough so that a salty breeze could make them all shut their eyes from its force every so often. Y/N enjoyed it, though. She quite liked how windy it was, it just reminded her of where she was, who she was with. She was used to this now; she wouldn’t have it any other way. Looking about at the landscape, Grace, Harry, she wished she could take a mental video tape and keep it in her brain forever. Whenever she wondered what happiness, what bliss, felt and looked like again, she’d just have to play this scene for herself and she would be reminded.

“Why’re you both so quiet?” Grace asked, looking down at her toastie before she stared at Harry and then Y/N.

“What you mean?” Harry retorted.

“You’re never quiet, you always joke around or talk.” Grace took another bite. “Is it because I’m here?”

“No, Gracie, we’re all just enjoying the view,” Harry smiled. “Sometimes, silence isn’t a bad thing.”

That didn’t seem to convince Grace, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she ate up her toastie and put the paper back in the hamper. When that was done, she got Harry’s camera and laughed evilly as she ran off.

“Gracie!” Harry warned but Grace only giggled and brought the camera up to her face. Y/N supposed that, watching Harry do this and probably having been taught this before, Grace knew what she was doing when she pressed the button and started filming Harry and Y/N, then herself. Harry watched her the entire time, unsure if he trusted her completely with his camera.

“You alright?” he asked suddenly, looking away from Grace for a second to look at Y/N. “Like… you’re… you’re good? We’re good?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dunno,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced back at Grace. “You’ve been a bit distant. All yesterday at the farm and now.”

“I’ve just-“ Y/N stopped herself, looking over at Grace who was now running around in circles, singing a song they’d heard on the radio on the way here. “It’s nothing.”

Harry studied her for a few seconds. “It’s not nothing, Y/N, I can tell.”

“Well,” Y/N said, looking right back at Harry with big eyes, shrugging her shoulders. “You’ve been weird, too.”

“How?”

She sighed, averting her eyes again. “Fine, you haven’t been weird, you’ve been lovely.”

They fell back into silence, Harry not taking his eyes off Y/N and Y/N not sure where to look. She wanted to tell Harry about yesterday, wanted to let him know that her ex was here, and before long, her parents would be too. It was about time she told him why she left Hampshire, it shouldn’t have taken her this long, but in a sense, in not opening up about it, she had tried to suppress everything from her past life. Not speaking about it was a way for her to forget.

“Is this…” Harry started, but he trailed off, a crease appearing between his brows as he thought. “Is this about us… us in the lighthouse two days ago? Is that why you’re acting strange?”

“No.” Y/N looked back at him, slightly offended that he’d even think that but understanding that he might’ve found her silence and odd behaviour these last two days confusing. “No, of course not.”

“I didn’t do something wrong?”

“No, Harry.”

“Will you tell me then? What’s bothering you?”

Y/N glanced back at Grace, completely transfixed by the flowers in some of the bushes surrounding them. Though Y/N felt part of her protesting, she knew that she had to tell Harry. Besides, if he didn’t want to be around her anymore, it would be okay because they said they would break up in August, so parting ways after the end of summer party at the farm seemed very fitting. They hadn’t discussed when it would happen yet, but they could do that later.

“Yeah, I will,” Y/N said, looking down at her hands. “Think it’s time I did.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, as if he were trying to make sense of what she was saying. Realising he couldn’t, he cleared his throat and moved a little closer to her, speaking in a lower voice. “I, uhm… I also want to talk about something.”

She glanced up at him again, feeling a strange sort of instant calmness roll through her at the sight of his green eyes. “What’s that?”

“Well…” His cheeks got a little pink and he scratched at the back of his neck, the flustered behaviour reminded Y/N so much of the beginning of their summer that she couldn’t help her smile. “Us.”

“Us?”

“I wanted to have a little chat about what happened two days ago and yesterday morning,” he said. “Figure out where your head’s at, ‘cause I don’t want there to be any mixed signals and stuff. Right now might not be the best time and place, I kind of don’t want Gracie around ‘cause I wanna chat in private. I-I know we said we’d…” He paused, trying to find a better way to phrase it. “Like, I just want us to be on the same page.”

She nodded, she knew they needed to have a chat about everything, especially what happened between them and what would happen next. But before they could do that, she needed to tell him about her parents and Dominic, about what happened that night she left and why she left in the first place. She was aware that he might already have a fairly decent overview as of right now of what had made her leave, but he only knew part of what she was feeling, not the whole story. He deserved to know the full story before they discussed anything further.

“Y/N, you sure you’re alright-“

“-Harry!” Grace came running over, holding a few red flowers in her hand. “Harry, you don’t have these by the lighthouse!”

Harry’s eyes lingered on Y/N for a second before he looked back at Grace, giving her a smile. “You’re right, never seen these before.”

“Can I bring them back to nanay?”

“Yeah, reckon she’ll love that.”

Grace placed the camera back in the hamper and sat down, drinking some of her water. The rest of their picnic at Zennor was fairly uneventful and they started their drive back to St Ives not long after. Harry drove by the farm, dropping Grace off and making sure she was okay all the way till she was inside before he started driving off again. Jessa poked her head out and waved at them just before they were gone up the gravel road.

“Right,” Harry said at last, a sort of shaky breath leaving his lips that made Y/N think he might be nervous. “Haven’t really had a chance to be alone since yesterday morning.”

Y/N nodded some, looking down at her lap and picking at the hem of her dress. “We haven’t.”

“You also forgot to take your raincoat with you yesterday, it’s at mine if you wanna come back and get it.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said. “Have a feeling I might need it when autumn comes around.”

Harry swallowed thickly, taking a quick look at Y/N before he glanced at the road again. “Actually… that’s what I wanted to have a chat with you about. August, autumn… the future.”

There was a slight pause as they both realised what they were about to discuss.

“Leave your raincoat at mine, so when you come around-“

“Harry, I need to tell you something-“

They both stopped, shared a quick glance as they had both interrupted each other. He nodded at her, telling her to continue on saying what she wanted to say, his cheeks a little pink again as if the nerves he had claimed were gone had come back again for today. The slight smile on his lips eased her nerves some, and she looked back at the road as she rummaged through her head and memories, trying to figure out the best way to tell him this.

“I think you might’ve gathered by now that I left Hampshire ‘cause I couldn’t be there any longer. It drained me.”

He nodded.

“It’s…” She furrowed her brows. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Harry stayed silent, waiting for her to elaborate. Y/N took her time finding her words again, not wanting to leave Harry confused in any way.

“My parents weren’t the only reason why I left.”

“The town made you feel claustrophobic.”

“I also had a boyfriend.”

This silenced him, even though she suspected he knew to some extent. She had kind of talked about him before, but not in detail. When Y/N looked over at him, he was staring straight ahead, it was hard to make out any sort of emotion on his face.

“His name was Dominic, and we were together for three years before I left in June. He was nice enough to me and we got on, much because, I’ve realised in retrospect, we never really talked about things that mattered. I think I acted the same way with him as you did with Emilia, didn’t really fight him and tried to stay as neutral and as non confrontational as possible in order to make it work. It was safe with him ‘cause I knew him, we had a sort of routine, he got on with my parents – who both adored him and told me multiple times how we should get married and that I had found myself someone to keep around forever.”

She took a small look at Harry, just to make sure he was still present and not having zoned out somewhere along the way. He looked rather concentrated on both the road and her confession, giving her as much of his focus as he could. She looked away again.

“My parents thought I was happy, but I really wasn’t. I think they saw what they wanted to see, something that’s always been the case with them. They were more interested in how it would look if I were to marry Dom than how I actually felt about him. I didn’t realise that staying with him ‘cause their happiness depended on it, would also make Dom happy.” They were in the middle of town now, people milling about the van. “I didn’t realise that none of it made me happy until the night I left. I just did everything for everyone else, made sure they were happy with my choice in order for me to be happy with it. I found happiness and reason in others’, if it makes sense.”

“Makes perfect sense,” he mumbled, not trying to speak over her or make her stop talking. Y/N couldn’t hear any definite emotion in his voice and wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“The night I left…” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Dom took me out for dinner, I thought it was a normal dinner, one he usually took me out on every once in a while. But… once we were walking over the cathedral grounds… he proposed to me.”

The van was deathly silent after that. Y/N hadn’t noticed how the radio hadn’t been playing this whole time. She dared a look at Harry who had both his hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead. He turned onto the gravel path leading to the lighthouse, stepping a bit more on the gas pedal than Y/N thought was necessary.

“And… before I tell you everything else, I need you to know how complicated it all was before I left. And still kind of is.”

“Okay.” Harry drove into the courtyard and stopped the van, turning the engine off.

She looked away from him again, knowing that she couldn’t look at him while she told him this. She just couldn’t. She didn’t want to see the look on his face.

“You know I told you about my dad? How he’d been some sort of warm entity when I was younger?”

“Yeah.”

“Well… most of that… happened inside a prison.”

Harry once again fell silent; she could feel him watching her.

“My dad’s… He’s not in any gang, he’s not in the mafia, he’s not notorious for doing anything like that. He’s not bad like that. He’s… he’s just not a good person. He would say things to my mum that would make me very uncomfortable, or not bother telling us where he’d been when he was gone for a day or two. He’d tell mum that she should clean the bathroom, even though she did so that same day. Or he’d tell her that she didn’t do a good job with the dinner ‘cause the mushrooms weren’t cut in small enough slices. He’s always made small comments about my mother’s weight, that she should wear more make-up, get lipfillers…” Y/N trailed off, biting the side of her mouth for a few seconds. “As I got older, when I wasn’t a child anymore, he started treating me the same way. And I think, ‘cause I was in lower rank in the family – my dad being the boss, then my mum, then me – my mum saw no problem treating me like that also.”

Harry was quiet still, hanging onto her every word.

“My dad worked as Deputy Chief Executive and Director of Corporate Resources for Hampshire County Council when he met my mum and worked there till he was told to resign, because…” Y/N paused for a second, feeling dread fill every little part of her at the thought of this. “When my mum was pregnant with me, she was walking home from a friend’s house, and a man kept walking behind her on the way back home. She thought she was being followed. Mum knew he wanted to get to her, she said he kept walking faster and followed her wherever she went. She called dad and told him she was being followed, and he waited outside the house for her.”

“Why didn’t he just meet her halfway?” Harry asked and Y/N jumped a little at the question. His voice was a tad darker than usual. When she looked at him, he looked furious.

“Because, when my mum walked up the street, he walked toward her and attacked the man who had followed her.” Another silence ensued as Y/N tried finding the courage to say, “My dad beat him to death.”

The tension in the air in the car was awful and Y/N usually got a migraine just thinking about this, so speaking about it made her physically nauseous.

“It had been their neighbour just walking home, but my dad never allowed my mum to talk to their neighbours, and it was too dark to properly make out who he was anyway. But… I’ve always secretly thought my dad didn’t really care, ‘cause he must’ve known who his neighbours were, he – as a high ranked County Council man – would’ve introduced himself when he moved in. He’s also always been very aware of his surroundings.”

Y/N hated the fact that Harry hadn’t looked at her since he stopped the car.

“He got 25 years in prison, my mum and I visited him a lot, and I think I was the only positive aspect of his life then. But, as I got older and maybe started showing a more independent nature, he stopped treating me like he cared about me at all.” She sighed. “Anyway, he claimed it was in self-defence, that he felt threatened by this man who was supposedly about to do something harmful against my mother. He was released eight years before his sentence stated.”

Quickly, she glanced at Harry in her peripheral vision, but he still made no sign to even turn in her direction. Part of her was panicking, the other half knew that now, if he hated her, it would be easier to leave. She could not stay here, not when Dominic told her her parents were going to come down to St Ives now as well.

“I met Dominic at school, he was the only one who didn’t treat me like I was insane ‘cause of what my father did. He made me smile, he made me feel seen. He had gone off to university after sixth form while I stayed put in Winchester where my parents wanted me. After a few years, when I was 22, he came back and asked me out for coffee. It took him a few weeks to actually ask me to be his girlfriend because I suspect he knew he needed my father’s approval, but Dominic was a businessman by then, doing quite well for someone who had just graduated uni. My dad approved of him right away. And… And, I now realise, I supposed that was because he could see parts of himself in Dom.”

Harry’s hands that had rested in the gap between his legs, were suddenly balled into fists.

“Dom was just like my dad in many aspects, but, unlike my dad, he was very good at hiding his manipulation. He’d blame it on me.” Y/N felt cold all over talking about Dominic. “I knew it was wrong. Deep inside, though it was all I had ever known, I watched a lot of telly in my spare time and I also had friends who picked up on Dom’s behaviour and who would tell me it was wrong. It didn’t sink in till he proposed and I realised that, if I said yes, I would have to spend my life with someone who I kept around ‘cause he validated me sometimes when my family and the world around me didn’t. He made me feel special when we were kids, and I always had this glorified picture of him inside my head, but when he proposed… I realised he wasn’t good for me. He was my trauma.”

Y/N looked up, eyes falling on the white lighthouse before them.

“My dad made this joke once, which made me very uncomfortable, and I could tell mum also didn’t appreciate it, but him and Dom laughed,” Y/N said. “It went something along the lines of ‘if you can’t defend your family- if you can’t kill for your loved ones, then that’s not true love.’ And Dom agreed. If you wouldn’t kill for the people you loved, then you didn’t love enough.” Y/N bit her lips together for a few seconds. “And that, along with the laughter and agreement from Dom that followed it, just went on repeat inside my head after he proposed. Not that the sentiment behind it isn’t genuine, I’m sure it is… in its own way, but you shouldn’t have to murder in order to show that you truly love someone. It sounded like my father was trying to initiate something, and, for some reason, I was sure that if I said yes to Dom, I would go through the exact same thing mum went through with dad.”

She glanced down at the purse in her lap, running her finger along the strap.

“When I told Dom no, I ran home, and my father met me in the foyer. He asked me how dinner was, and by the look on his face, I knew Dominic had told dad he was going to propose.” Y/N shuddered. “When I told him I turned Dom down, my dad continued to smile at me. It was as if he refused to acknowledge what I had just told him. He asked me again, and I told him I didn’t want to marry Dom.” Y/N paused, and Harry moved a little, almost as if to look at her. “He took a hold of my shoulders and pinned me up against the wall very forcefully, and asked me the same question a third time. This time he was still smiling, asked me through gritted teeth. I told him again that I said no. He didn’t like that. He started screaming at me, right in my face, told me how I had just ruined everything. I wouldn’t be as happy, as well off, as I would’ve been with Dom. He said I was a failure, that I wouldn’t amount to anything now.”

Y/N put her bag on the floor so she could pick at some lint on her dress. Anything to keep her only slightly distracted.

“My mother came out into the foyer, trying to get dad off me, but he shoved her off him and into a dresser. She fell to the ground, a vase shattered, and my mum started bleeding. My dad was distracted for long enough, so I ran to my mum. I had to help her. She was bleeding.” Y/N paused, regaining her breath. “I tried to help her up, but my dad pushed me away, telling me I was useless. I tried again, getting my mum to her feet, and into the kitchen where I cleaned her wound. It wasn’t anything big, but she was still bleeding from her palm. I kept thinking about all the shards of glass in the foyer, how my dad was still out there. I wanted to hide with mum in a room. I knew, logically, that my dad would never intentionally hurt my mum and I, but just the fact that he had taken a life before has always terrified me.”

She let silence fill the car for a few moments, tired of hearing her own voice, but also knowing that she had to tell him all of this now. She couldn’t keep it to herself any longer.

“I asked my mum if we should leave- if she wanted to leave with me. But before she could say anything, my dad came into the kitchen. I left instantly and walked to my room, where I locked my door, and started looking for places I could just… I could escape. And so I found The Roaming Crab Inn. Ever since, I’ve tried to force my past behind me, but… it’s caught up with me now.”

That was when Harry looked at her, eyes a little bigger than they normally were. “What do you mean?”

“Dominic’s here.”

Harry was frozen in place.

“When you drove me to the Inn… after that night in the lighthouse… he was at the Inn. He was waiting for me. Saw us kissing.”

Harry sat back in his seat, looking straight ahead with his lips parted now. “How did he know you were there?”

“I don’t think I want to know.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds, contemplating everything she had just told him. “Have you seen him since?”

“No, but I know he’s in town. He told me my parents are coming as well, they’re trying to take me back to Hampshire.”

“You’re not going back to Hampshire.”

She glanced at him.

His jaw clenched as another few moments in silence passed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I… I couldn’t find the right time to tell you, Grace was around all day, and I didn’t want to bring it up when we were making food with your family.”

“We spent so much time alone together all summer, Y/N, why didn’t you just tell me? If we’re gonna work out after summer ends, you need to tell me things. St Ives might’ve been a place for a new beginning, but your past shapes you, you can’t just forget it even though you’ve moved towns.”

She stayed silent, not really knowing the right way to approach this. She was about to open her mouth when Harry interrupted her.

“You don’t want to stay in St Ives, do you?”

She blinked. “What?”

“You don’t want to stay here. You can’t wait to put St Ives and me-“ He stopped himself. “You can’t wait to put everything here behind you and go live somewhere else far away from here.”

“Harry…” Y/N furrowed her brows. “That’s not… No.”

He looked at her, hopeful.

“I’m not leaving ‘cause I don’t want to stay, I’m leaving ‘cause I’m terrified of what might happen when my father comes here.”

Harry’s entire face well, his shoulders slumped a little and he dug the nail of his middle finger into the skin of his thumb. “I… You’re leaving? But you want to stay?”

“I want to stay here, but I’m not going to risk having my father come to St Ives and let him be close to you, Gracie, Jessa, Bessie, Dax, Fatima, or anyone else. I don’t know how he’s gonna react, I don’t want him close to any of you.”

“So you’re leaving?”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “Yes.”

“To protect people that can protect themselves? You even said you didn’t think your dad would hurt you-“

“-But he’s also been to prison for murder, Harry.”

“You’re aware that everyone in St Ives, who you’ve interacted with or spent time with this summer, all adore you, yeah? If your parents and Dom show up, they can try right about bloody anything, but we won’t let them touch you.”

“And I won’t let them come near you.”

“Too late, Dom’s already here.”

“Harry, you don’t get to decide what I’m gonna do now.”

“I’m kind of involved in this, ain’t I?!” he shouted suddenly, a sort of fury in his eyes that Y/N couldn’t quite place. She wasn’t sure if it was aimed at her not being truthful from the beginning or at her family for treating her the way they did and still were doing. “Dom already knows who I am, from what you’ve told me, and if your parents arrive, I’ll immediately be involved ‘cause I won’t let anything fucking happen to you, Y/N! God!” He ran both hands through his hair in utter frustration. “You can be so dense sometimes! Anything that happens to you, happens to me! I’m not leaving you just ‘cause of this!”

“You don’t really have a choice, Harry! I’m leaving St Ives ‘cause I don’t want to risk having my parents show up here and be near anyone I care about!”

“Dom’s already been close to Gracie and me!”

“Dom’s not a murderer, my father is!”

Harry sighed, running his hands over his face.

“Are you mad at me for leaving after the end of summer party, or for not telling you about my past?”

“Both,” he answered, sounding even more furious than he looked. “I don’t understand why you need to leave. Everyone here would do right about anything for you, I don’t get what you’re trying to achieve by leaving.”

“I want to protect you from my father, Harry! I don’t know how he’s going to react! He loved me with Dom, what’s he gonna do when he finds out I’ve been with you all summer?!”

“Y/N, I cannot let you leave knowing you have a fucking deranged murderer father chasing your every step, not knowing what he’s gonna do once he catches you!”

“You cannot let me leave?! I don’t need your permission to do anything! I don’t need you to protect me!”

“Maybe not, but I want to! I want to protect you, Y/N! I want to be with you always ‘cause I care about you! Everything that’s you, I care about! I love it!”

Neither of them said a word, they just stared at one another as the words Harry had just uttered dawned on them. They didn’t look away from one another, instead just gaping, trying to form words, but it was hard when the impact and implications of what Harry had just said hung in the air between them.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Harry said.

“I have to.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“No!” he shouted again. “You don’t! I want you to stay, you want to stay, why don’t you just fucking stay?! We can face your family together!”

“I don’t want you to ever face them, Harry!”

“Why?! I can-“

“-Because I fucking care about you, too!”

Both her cursing and admitting that stopped them from saying anything else. They just looked at one another, realising that they wouldn’t come anywhere if they kept on shouting at each other. Y/N wouldn’t budge, and Harry wouldn’t either. They were both too desperate, too panicked, to think rationally. She saw Harry’s eyes falling to her lips for a split second before looking into her eyes again, and in that moment, there was nothing Y/N wanted more than to kiss him just one more time. If this was the last private moment they would have together, then she wanted to use it well. She took her seatbelt off and at the sight, Harry did the same. They must’ve been thinking the exact same thing. If they couldn’t come to an agreement, if they were actually going to part that Friday, then they would do everything with this last moment they had together.

The kiss might have been a bit harder than they intended it to be. Their teeth clashed and they didn’t get each other right on the lips, but the impact was nonetheless immense. Y/N gripped onto the collar of Harry’s tee shirt, and Harry brought one of his hands to the back of her neck, the other resting on her hip as he brought her closer to him. Their tongues met instantly, and they fell into an easy, frantic rhythm that matched the one at the top of the lighthouse. Gripping onto one another, clinging to the other like their life depended on it, like they would slip away from each other forever if they did.

Harry moaned into her mouth and Y/N held him tighter, wanting to feel him there with her like she had done that night and the morning that followed. She missed him. She would miss him. After this day, after they parted, she would miss him always. As they had so clearly implied while fighting just now, their future was incredibly uncertain. If they couldn’t touch each other now, if they couldn’t be together right now, when would they get the chance again? Would they ever get the chance again? Y/N chose not to think about that now. Everything was so complicated, so uncertain, she just wanted to enjoy this moment with Harry.

Harry tried to drag her closer to him, over the gear stick and the space between the passenger and driver’s seat. Y/N let him, letting him take control of her for a little while. But the gap was bigger than both of them seemed to have anticipated, and Y/N almost fell into it, quickly taking a grip of the back of Harry’s seat to steady herself. She bit her lip from laughing, but Harry let a small breathy chuckle escape him. Their eyes met again, and, for a terrible moment, Y/N felt hopeless. All summer they had worked toward August, the end of summer party that was coming in two days, and now that it was here, they were supposed to part ways. She would never see St Ives, Grace, Jessa, the gang, the beaches, Bessie, or Harry ever again. Once she left after the party on Friday, she would never be here again.

Again, she pushed that thought to the back of her head and brought her lips to Harry’s again. Their kisses were even more intense, even more passionate, than before. Taking a grip of Harry’s shoulder, she got up from her seat and sat down onto Harry’s nearest leg. He spread them for her and sat further out in his seat, making it easier for her to sit comfortably on him. Placing his hands on her hips, he instantly squeezed her soft skin, bringing them to her lower back as to beckon her closer. She placed both of her hands on either of his shoulders, holding herself back from doing what Harry wanted her to. Remembering what he had told her that morning in the lighthouse, she gripped his shoulders harder, before bringing one hand to the back of his neck, pulling his lips away from hers.

“Are we doing this?” she asked, looking into his eyes for a long moment before daring a glance at his lips, feeling her heartbeat reverberate throughout her entire body.

“What?”

“Are we shagging?”

His eyes moved over her face, studying every single angle of her, as if he could never get enough, as if he had to memorise all of her. “Y/N, I’ll do whatever you want me to. Tell me what you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

She felt a small breath leaving her lips and she slid towards him, her centre reacting to the movement of her hips and the friction between her bud and Harry’s muscular thigh.

“If you want me head between your legs, if you want to fuck me, if you want me to fuck you-“ Harry stopped himself, completely taken off guard as Y/N mimicked her previous movement, grinding her hips against him “I’ll do anything. Order me.”

She rested her forehead against his, guiding his lips closer to hers. “Let me use your thigh.”

“God, yes.”

As she had done against Harry in the bed in the lighthouse, she moved her hips against him. Now she made sure to put extra pressure on herself on her bud. Closing her eyes, she focused on Harry’s breath against her wet lips, the feel of his hair in her hand, and his hands on her waist and thigh. The windows were just slightly open, letting in the harsh winds of the moors around and the screams of seagulls. Y/N wanted to remember every little thing about this. The smell, the feeling, her surroundings. As she opened her eyes, Harry was already staring up at her through hooded, concentrated eyes. His focus was entirely on her, she wasn’t sure he had even noticed that there was a world outside the van and them. So devoted, so attentive. Whenever he looked at her, especially like this, she felt like a goddess; so powerful, so important, so otherworldly. He cared about nothing but her when they were close like this.

Harry brought his hands to her bum, squeezing her tightly and deliciously. At that, she gasped and moved even faster, harder. She kissed him hard and he instantly melted into her, bringing one of his hands to the back of her head. Silently begging her not to move out of the kiss, wanting more than anything to have her tongue in his mouth, to feel her lips on his. The kisses were wet and drawn out, a lazy make-out session as she felt her entire body grow hot with what she knew was a climax only Harry could coax out of her. He wasn’t even touching her, wasn’t even eating her out or fucking her, but the mere thought that she was with Harry, that he got off as he watched her come undone using him, was enough to the spot between her legs ache.

“You’re so fucking hot like that,” he mumbled against. “You’re fuckin’… you’re so…” He breathed heavily, watching her as the flames in her core started to get more intense. When Harry got speechless like this, Y/N often found herself blushing, and she was sure she was doing that right now as well, but all her attention was focused on the man in front of her and the feeling inside her core. Looking into Harry’s eyes, a swarm of butterflies started circling around and around the fires in her core. The oncoming climax wasn’t the only thing making her dizzy, but her strong and unwavering feelings for Harry was also added into the mix.

“Like me like this, do you?” he asked, squeezing her bum. “Like me under you?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her clit getting more sensitive with each stroke. “Think you like it more, though.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he mumbled against her lips. “You’re so sexy when you know what you want. And I really like it when that’s me.”

She tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, making him whimper into her mouth. “Stop talking.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

It was hard not to smile, because whenever Harry said something stupid in his hoarse, sexy voice, it sounded funny. But Y/N quickly remembered everything they had just fought over and the smile disappeared instantly. They started kissing again, hungry and frantic and desperate. Harry held onto her arse again, helping her move faster, feeling her hips against his thigh. Y/N felt just how wet she was, her centre ached for something, for Harry. Her bud was so sensitive, her core was so hot, and she knew it was only a matter of seconds until she would come. She felt her nails dig into the skin of Harry’s neck and he shivered at the touch, willing her to do more.

Next second, she came. It was not the most overwhelming sensation she had ever felt, most of it was certainly because she enjoyed penetration more than just a clitoral stimulation. Regardless, she clung to Harry, feeling her heart beat fast as she came down from her orgasm. It washed over her, making her even hotter than she already was. Opening her eyes, she saw Harry watching her, an intense look on his face and a very visible bulge in his denim shorts. Y/N bit her lip at the sight, staring up into Harry’s eyes again. His lips were parted and though he had done nothing but just watch her just now, he was still panting slightly.

Slowly, Y/N brought her hand down, placing it over Harry’s crotch. His lips opened wider and his eyebrows raised ever so slightly, eyes not once leaving hers as she moved her hand up and down, feeling him out.

“You’re so hard,” she said, and Harry moved a little restlessly, his grip on her tightening. “So hard for me.”

“I’m everything for you,” he mumbled, reaching to kiss her, but she pulled him back against the seat by the hair at the nape of his neck. It took him by surprise, but Y/N could tell it turned him on. She quite liked having this control over him. She felt so powerful.

“I want you to fuck me,” she whispered against his lips, him letting a breath moan leave his mouth at her utterance. “I need you to fuck me.”

“I’ll fuck you,” he answered, pulling her against him. As she rubbed her clit against him again, she gasped. “I’ll do anything for you, Y/N.”

“Then go inside and get a condom.”

Harry breathed against her again, letting the thought sink in before he nodded. He opened the door and got out of the van, leaving her sitting in the front seat. He stumbled onto the gravel in the courtyard before he quite literally sprinted for the cottage. He fumbled frantically with his keys, dropping them once and cursing at himself before he ran inside. Y/N allowed herself to chuckle a little at him before she crawled out of the front seat and into the back.

She walked to the very back where they had been seated that time before on the way home from the barbecue karaoke night. The memory brought instant stinging to the backs of Y/N’s eyes and she blinked rapidly, not wanting to be found in the backseat crying. She just knew that, every single day for the rest of her life, she would think about her summer spent in St Ives and she would always want to go back, even though she could not.

Harry came back into the car, and when he didn’t see her in the front, he quickly slid the backdoor open and got inside. Y/N sat perfectly in the middle of the backseat, her legs spread for him and her head tilted to the side, bottom lip between her teeth. Harry could not help the breath that left his lips and he fell to his knees before her, lifting her right leg up, kissing the inside of her knee and all the way down her thigh, leaving a trail of wet spots that sent hot shivers up and down Y/N’s spine. He reached up, hooking his fingers around the hem of her knickers, bringing them down her legs. He placed them in a nearby seat and looked up at her, almost about to start eating her out, but Y/N took his head in her hands instead.

She guided him up to her, kissing him as she lay back down on the seat, bringing Harry with her. He placed one hand on her cheek and the other held him upright as they deepened their kiss. His tongue traced her bottom lip, a breath left his nose. Spreading her legs for him, he easily fell into her, and she finally got to feel his hardness through his jeans. The impact made her moan and Harry grinded his hips against her, making her grab at his arse, asking him to do it again. When he did as she begged, an audible moan left her lips, and Harry’s entire demeanour changed. He quickly grew into the frantic man he had been in the front of the car; eager to please and even more eager to feel her around his cock.

She started fumbling with the button of his denim shorts and his zipper, and Harry pulled the condom out of his pocket. As he opened it, she wiggled his shorts and boxers down his hip, revealing to her his cock. Biting her lip, she took a slight grip of him, running her thumb over his head and pumping him slowly. Harry groaned, looking down at Y/N and then down between them where she was touching him so tenderly. He glanced up at her, eyes big with interest and a need to take it all in while he could.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, voice a little shaky, he seemed to be in an almost dreamy state. She reached up, kissing him as she continued to run her hands over him. Harry kissed her back wildly, desperate to be as close to her as possible. He gave her the condom, and she stopped kissing for long enough to focus on it.

“Wait,” Harry said, reaching for the back pocket of his shorts. He brought the small bottle of lube Y/N remembered seeing in his bathroom cupboard out. “It’ll be better if you put some lube on before the condom goes on. Just a wee bit.”

Y/N gave the condom back to him and glanced at him to tell her when they had enough. They only needed two drops before Y/N put the lid back on and put the bottle on the floor of the car. She smeared it down his cock, another breath leaving his lips, his swollen lips parted as she caressed him slowly. The long and shaky moan that left Harry’s lips made every single hair on Y/N’s body stand on end. They kept eye contact as Y/N stroked Harry, making him more frantic with each stroke.

“If you’re gonna keep doing that, I’ll come.”

She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing, because for some reason she found this insanely adorable. Again, she took the condom from him, looking down to make sure she put it on right, and then, as she started pushing it down his prick, she met his eyes again.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, and Harry seemed to lose himself completely in her words and presence. Reaching down, he took a hold of himself, bringing his cock to her entrance and keeping eye contact as he slid into her. She gasped, gripping the back of his neck and looking up at him as he moved in and out slowly, trying to get a good feel of her and the position they were in. He brought her leg up along the back of the seat to rest at the top, giving him more space, and she effortlessly hooked her other one around his waist, spreading herself more for him. He hovered over her then, once again checking to see how well he could move, and once he felt confident, he slammed into her hard.

Y/N gasped, feeling an electric shock run through her at the feel of Harry’s hips colliding with hers. He fit her perfectly, stretched her out deliciously, made everything around them stop mattering for the time being. Nothing was more important than this, than them, than now. Harry put one elbow beside her head and the other hand came to rest under her bum, helping lift it ever so slightly so he could pound into her at a better angle. The pace he picked up then was just right, not too fast, not too slow. Y/N felt each thrust like an earthquake through every single cell of her being. Each molecule of her body came to focus on the spots where Harry touched her, concentrating especially on the intense, fire-like feeling in her core. With each stroke, Harry just looked down at her, wanting to see for himself just how well he was able to fuck her, how good he could make her feel.

The sounds they made, both bodily and verbal, echoed throughout the car, and Y/N was sure that if anyone were to approach the lighthouse or even sail by, they would see the yellow van moving with each of Harry’s forceful thrusts. She would normally have found this embarrassing, but something about spending this moment with Harry, being so caught up in him and everything they did, made every care for the rest of the world completely disappear.

If it was an accident or if it were their souls trying to communicate in some way, Y/N could simply not put her finger on it, but she was suddenly looking straight into Harry’s eyes again. As he pounded into her, moving with each of his thrusts that made a wild fire ignite inside both of them, he could not take his eyes off her. Those green eyes reminded her of everything that had happened that summer. It reminded her of days spent studying at his place, the kiss at Porthgwidden, the second one at the top of the lighthouse, the countless hours they had spent together. She wasn’t only staring up at the person she had started falling deeply in love with, she was looking into the eyes of her best friend. This summer, he had become everything to her. Everything that had happened, was thanks to Harry. Everything that would happen next in her life, every path she could walk down, his name would be etched into her history forever now.

He paused for a few moments, just looking down at her and regaining his breath and stamina. A thumb caressed her cheek, wiping some of the sweat off her forehead. The tenderness he had shown her and continued to show her made her throat hurt, no one had ever touched her like doing so was a holy privilege. She moved before she knew what she was doing, stroking a drop of sweat off his temple. As she touched him, Harry moved his face, kissing her palm and closing his eyes for a few seconds, lips resting against her skin. For some seconds, they just stayed like that, not wanting to move but to just feel the other there. They knew that, once this heated moment was over, they would maybe not see much of each other again.

He took a breath, opening his eyes again and thrust into her again. A specifically hard thrust made her arch her back, gasping as she clung even harder to him, bringing one of her hands up under his tee shirt. She ran her nails down his back, making Harry moan down onto her, kissing her fiercely. They lost themselves completely in the heat of the moment again, not caring about anything but the explosion of emotion that was transpiring between them now.

“Baby,” he moaned against her lips, the nickname made Y/N whimper under him. No one had ever called her that before. “Do that again.”

She arched her back again, the fire inside her core getting more and more intense with each of Harry’s deep strokes. Reaching all the way up his back, looking up at him as she said, “Make me.”

Harry groaned, squeezing her arse that he was still holding onto. Again, he lifted her slightly off the seat and started pounding into her at a faster pace. This instantly set something off inside Y/N, something she felt run up her spine, through her organs, through every fibre of her being. The cry she let out got Harry to let out his own, she was starting to suspect that her exclamations of bliss turned him on. She felt pleasure in absolutely every single part of her, all of it coming down to join the butterflies that swarmed around the fire that was rising and rising in her core. She ran her hand down his back again, Harry moaning at the feel of it.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Harry whimpered. “You feel so good. You’re… you’re fucking everything.”

Breath hitched in Y/N’s throat, and she clung to him harder, the distant feeling of her climax coming closer and closer.

“You’re everything, Y/N.” He rested his forehead against hers. “You’re everything to me-“

Before he could say more that would make her eyes begin to sting, Y/N took a hold of Harry’s throat. She willed him away from her face and he gasped, looking down at her with eyes that, to any normal person, should’ve been wide with shock, but Harry’s were filled with pure lust. The grip she had on him excited him, made a moan leave his lips and his movements halted just slightly. He must have been taken aback by it at first, but now he loved it. Reaching up, he placed two fingers over Y/N’s ring and index finger, and another over her thumb, asking her to press down on his neck just slightly. He took a grip of her thigh and started pounding into her harder, making Y/N cry out again, the fires in her core intensifying.

She had put her hand to his throat like that to stop him from talking. If she heard another word like that leave his lips, she would’ve most likely not been able to hold her tears back. But, to her surprise, she quite liked the feeling of having all this power of him. By gripping his throat, commanding him to do whatever she wanted him to, she felt a thrill run through each one of her veins. And upon realising that, Y/N suddenly came to think of something they had talked about in the lighthouse.

“The lube,” she started. “Can I use it on you?”

Once again, he stopped moving, looking down at her as he panted. A slight furrow appeared between his brows before they lifted when realisation dawned on him. “You… Yo-You want to… you want to…?”

“Only if you want,” she said, hearing now just how breathless she was. “I know you said you liked it.”

“Yes, I…” He cleared his throat, face growing redder than it already was. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.”

Harry let out a shaky breath. “Fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled, reaching for the lube and giving it to Y/N. They moved slightly so she was leaning slightly against the car wall behind her, getting a better vantage point to penetrate him. He watched as she put a few drops onto her fingers, biting her lip before meeting his eyes again. She supposed it was like getting her cunt wet before sex, so she circled his hole slowly. Harry blinked rapidly; his eyes fluttering shut as she slowly pushed her fingers into him. Instantly, he let out a moan, falling a little limp where Y/N still had a hand to his throat. She tried moving her fingers in and out, but Harry shook his head – or as much as he managed to in Y/N’s grip.

“Just keep them there,” he said, sounding completely breathless. “Curl them slightly.”

She did and bit her lip, looking up at him as he composed himself. Instead of moving his hips as much as he had before, he chose deep, quick thrusts now as to make it easier for Y/N to keep her fingers inside him. Y/N did not mind one bit. Harry did wonders to her insides. Each of his thrusts hit her deeper and just right, making each part of her sing in ecstasy. His movements grew more frantic, desperate for release. She let go of his throat, letting him breathe properly. Instantly, Harry moved forward, resting one hand by the wall behind Y/N and his forehead against hers. Whimpering, moaning loudly, repeating her name, and sweating down onto her, Harry moved in and out, bringing both of them closer and closer to orgasm. She moved her hips along with him, changing the position of her hand and curling her fingers more for him.

As he came, he came so hard that the veins in his neck and in the middle of his forehead were visible. The moan he let out was the loudest she’d ever heard from him, but it shook along with his body. She moved her hips with him when his thrusts became ragged, almost paralysed with the amount of pleasure running through his veins in those seconds. He just stayed on top of her, his forehead against hers, catching his breath for the longest time. Once he opened his eyes, looking into hers, Y/N suddenly realised that this was all coming to an end. He kissed her lips slowly before he got up from the seat. Taking a hold of her bottom, he dragged her towards him as he sat down on the floor by the middle of the van where he had the most space.

“Let me eat you out?” he asked, glancing up at her as he placed both her thighs on either of his shoulders. “Let me make you come.”

She nodded, bringing her hands to rest in his hair. He angled her some and pushed her dress further up so he had better access. Again, he moved his head to the side, kissing from her knee and all the way down her thigh, her centre already aching from having been prevented an orgasm.. Sucking, nibbling, kissing, he made his way down to her centre, closing his eyes as he got lost in the moment, but always looking at her when he opened his eyes again.

He wrapped an arm around her thigh as he kissed her cunt, spreading her legs and folds to reveal her wetness to him. He wrapped his lips around her bud and started sucking right away. She gasped at the already intense pleasure they had built up earlier, all of it coming right back at once. There was no denying that he wouldn’t have to work for long before she came again. He slid his fingers into her and she cried out, gripping his hair hard.

She looked down at him, seeing him already watching her through his dark lashes, green eyes bright with passion and eagerness, bordering on fanaticism. Those last few seconds when they were together like this, Y/N refused to look away. Her eyes stayed on Harry, her hands in his hair, his name leaving his lips. He licked over her, sucked her clit into his mouth, pounded his fingers into her, and nothing else mattered.

It felt like her entire life had just been her trying to find her way here. She had been led astray, doing things and meeting people of little significance, not moving forward emotionally, physically, or spiritually. Until she bumped into a lighthouse keeper in St Ives, Cornwall, and since then, she felt like her entire life before this had just been a miserable prologue. Right here, right now, with Harry and a town she loved, with people around her who treated her with nothing but unconditional love, she was living the beginning of her main plot. Because of her love for them, as well as her newfound love for herself, she would leave. She was not going to cause them any pain or suffering by having her past catch up to her here. No one deserved that. She needed to face her parents and Dominic, but she would not do it where they could also get a hold of everyone she had come to love.

Y/N arched her back, gasping and moaning as she came for the second time that day. Her eyes stayed locked on Harry, gripping him harder as he hummed into her. Her entire body seemed to be on fire; flames licked at every limb, every molecule, every feeling. No place was left untouched by her climax, it radiated through her for so long that she didn’t realise Harry had removed himself from between her legs.

He had taken the condom off and put his prick away, now sitting down beside Y/N and looking straight ahead, both of them trying to regain their breath away. What should have been a spur of the moment, in-the-middle-of-a-fight sex, had turned into more. They both realised that as they sat there just breathing, humid with sweat and hearts still beating a hundred miles an hour. Maybe they were incapable of doing something like that. Maybe acting on hate, on frustration, and on conflicted emotions running through them in the middle of a fight, was not something they could do. They were just not emotionally able to do that. The thought alone made Y/N want to cry. She felt too much for him.

“Y/N-“

“-I should go.”

She heard Harry’s head rolling against the back of the seat, looking at her beside him as his jaw tensed. He looked away.

“You should,” was all he said, and Y/N didn’t wait long before getting her knickers from the floor, putting them on as Harry walked out of the van. Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she forced herself to not cry. She could not cry now. Not yet. She got her purse from the passenger seat and turned around to see Harry standing in the doorway with her raincoat.

“Thank you,” she said as she took it from him, not meeting his eyes while she hung it over her forearm. She started walking in the direction of town.

“Are you really leaving?” he asked, his voice carrying over the harsh wind. She stopped, turning around to face him again, heart leaping out of her chest at the sound of his voice. “Are you actually leaving St Ives?”

“Harry, I can’t let my parents come here. I… I don’t want my dad near any of you, I don’t know what might happen when they come here. I don’t have any other choice.”

“You always have a fucking choice!” He sounded madder than she had ever heard him, even madder than he had been in the car earlier. “Leaving or staying! At least you’re able to make that decision!”

“I’m not doing this for me, I’m doing this for you-“

“-My father didn’t have a choice! He left!” Harry shouted. “And now you’re leaving just like Emilia did!”

The pain that erupted in her chest physically hurt every single part of her being.

“I’m glad you’re leaving, you’re just as good as each other, you and Emilia.” And with that, Harry slammed the door shut behind him, locking it as well. Y/N was left standing there, feeling worse than she ever had. Once she turned around and started walking, she couldn’t help herself. The tears started rolling down her cheeks right away and she was quick to wipe them away before reaching down. It hurt holding them back, but she put the hat she had brought on, and tried to shield her face from everyone she walked by, occasionally wiping a tear away.

Once she reached the Inn, she didn’t walk to the back garden where she heard Bessie, Camila, Barb, and Florence all sitting, instead she walked straight to her room. There, she closed the blinds, leaving no sunlight to stream into her room, and, after packing her bag, she read for the UCAT. Anything to keep her mind from wandering back up the path to the lighthouse and into the arms of the lighthouse keeper.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 8 November, 9PM GMT!

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