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lambtotheslaughterr · 26 days

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I Burn: Part Five

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.4k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART FOUR | MASTERLIST | PART SIX

For the last week you have felt more eyes on you than you would like. And none of them were eyes you wanted. The most daunting ones though were Dr. Mooney’s. He was disappointed in you. He didn’t need to say it, you felt it every time he looked at you. You had let him down. And you hated yourself for it. Hated Rafe even more because of it. You wish Rafe had never come here. It was all his fault, taking advantage of you. But a shameless part of you still wanted him. You worried you wouldn’t be satisfied until you finally did.

Dr. Mooney didn’t address the ‘incident’ until the following morning after catching you two in the quiet room. You & Rafe were removed from each other effectively & placed into your rooms. Doors locked. That rarely happened. But of course, it would happen to you.

The next morning you were to see Dr. Mooney, your routine be damned. Walking to his office that morning was excruciating. The longest walk of shame you had ever done. And once inside his office, you felt suffocated by the tension.

Unlike most times when you entered his office, Dr. Mooney did not greet you with a smile. He was already sitting in his chair across from the couch, one leg propped over the other & his notepad balanced on his knee. You stiffly moved towards the couch.

You wetted your lips, chewing your lower lip as you awaited his scolding.

“_____.” It was the first time he had said your name & it didn’t make you flutter. Instead, you wished you could sink into the couch & disappear from sight. You felt like a child about to get put into time out. That was essentially what happened.

“I want to understand your thoughts about last night.” Dr. Mooney eyed you from above his glasses, his brows crinkled.

There had been no thoughts. You had been influenced, manipulated, taken advantage of. And you said as such. But Dr. Mooney didn’t accept your answer.

“You are a grown woman. Placing blame entirely on Rafe is childish, is it not?” His rebuttal hurt. He had always been on your side; now it felt like he was admonishing you like you were no better than the worst.

“I went into that room alone, Dr. Mooney. I didn’t ask him to follow me.”

“Yes, free-will is a great thing. Something we want to empower our patients here with. Yet, you gave in to your addiction. You did not practice restraint.” He pressed his lips together as he stared hard at you.

You let out a shaky breath, “I tried…”

He frowned then, nodding once. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.”

“We didn’t even have sex. You made sure of that.” You battled though your voice was small.

“And I’m glad I did. You were doing so well, _____. It truly disappoints me that I must make a call to your parents about this.”

“No!” You shot forward at the mention of your parents, “Please Dr. Mooney, don’t. You can’t!”

“I can & I must. It’s our policy that when an incident happens with our patients regarding their recovery process that we inform the parents or guardians. No exceptions.” Dr. Mooney’s voice hardened, having grown quite unimpressed with you.

“Please, please! If you tell them I’ll never get out of here! You heard my dad!” You begged, “He even thinks I’m sleeping with you! He thinks the absolute worst of me. Please, Dr. Mooney. It won’t ever happen again.”

Dr. Mooney’s eyes softened momentarily as he listened to your pleas, but much to your dismay, he shook his head, “I’m sorry, _____, but it’s policy. And I can’t excuse what you got up to last night. Perhaps you should’ve thought about the consequences of your actions before you made the decision to follow through on them.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. You pulled your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly. You imagined your parents getting the call, learning the news. They left here hearing how well you were doing, an ‘excellent example’ Dr. Mooney had told them about your progress. Now, they would only be let down. Again.

You sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes harshly as a simmering rage settled within you.

“You’re punishing me.” You whispered, not looking at him.

Dr. Mooney clicked his tongue, “I wish you didn’t view it that way.”

You raised your eyes to glare at him, “You never wanted to help me.”

He stuffed his notepad between his thigh & the arm of the chair, leaning forward to stare at you, “You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” You questioned, “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it.”

“And I understand that it doesn’t.” He responded, “But I also thought you understood responsibility. It appears we still have much to work on.”

You shook your head in disagreement, glancing at the ground once more, unable to handle the look in his eyes as he looked at you.

“I’m never getting out of here.” You spoke to no one.

Dr. Mooney said nothing.

And so for the next week your sessions with Dr. Mooney were longer, though your conversations were brief. You didn’t trust him. You couldn’t. He had informed you in your second session with him following the incident that he did indeed call your parents. But you had not heard from them. You surmised you likely wouldn’t. You pictured your father not allowing your mother to call, to punish you further.

More so, group sessions were sporadic. Rafe & you had strict rules to not be allowed in the same room for at least a week, so you two took turns attending group therapy, & even got food during breakfast, lunch, & dinner at separate times. You hadn’t seen him all week, not even a peek. Dr. Mooney was taking your separation from each other seriously. So, you were watched like a hawk. Nurse Carney was with you most, if not all, the time. If the facility hadn’t felt like a prison before it sure did now.

But it was Friday now. The weekend was starting. And as much as you still blamed Rafe for what happened, you still longed to see him. At night, you imagined his face, his touch, his voice. It made you feel less alone, & it brought you comfort knowing that he was likely feeling the same you were. You two were opposing forces who couldn’t help but be drawn to each other. Why were you two being punished for that?

The only remotely ‘good’ thing to come out of this separation & prison treatment was that you hadn’t masturbated. You didn’t even have the urge. You were too angry to feel the burn. Dr. Mooney had said it was a good thing that you weren’t acting on your desires, but that it was unfortunate that it was due to negative feelings towards him & the recovery process. But restraint is restraint, he had said. It was the first time you imagined punching him. Desirable thoughts about Dr. Mooney had died quickly.

At this moment, you were dressed comfortably in a pair of shorts & a tank top. It was all your wardrobe really consisted of during your stay here. Your out & about clothes were unfortunately saved for community service days. Which was tomorrow. You wondered if Dr. Mooney would allow you out with your fellow patients, if he would let Rafe go. After all, it had been a week since you saw him, & there was no attempt to try to see him. Seeing him again would be your reward.

You reached Dr. Mooney’s office. The door was closed but you heard muffled voices inside. You couldn’t make out any words but there was a small laugh. It was a woman’s. You felt your skin burning hot, annoyed that whoever was inside was having a positive interaction with Dr. Mooney. That used to be you.

Knocking on the door, you didn’t care if you interrupted. There was the sound of footfalls before the door swung open. Dr. Mooney was dressed casually like he usually did on Friday’s before the weekend. And just behind him you saw Nurse Carney standing by his desk.

“_____ come in.” You kept your arms crossed in front of yourself as you stepped inside, not bothering to hide how you glanced between the two providers.

“Kiera, we’ll finish this later.”

She smiled politely at that, “Of course, Doctor.” She met your eyes in kind & nodded before leaving the two of you.

Dr. Mooney gestured to the couch & you dropped a knee onto it as he got situated in his chair, “My apologies, _____. I lost track of time.”

“What were you two talking about?” You knew you had no place to insert yourself in whatever private conversation they were having but you didn’t care.

“Tomorrow’s community service. I’m going to join in on this one.” The information surprised you. Dr. Mooney never came out on community service days. You had an inkling it was because of you & Rafe. But that meant that you two would indeed be together tomorrow.

“You are?”

“Mhmm.” He gave a closed lip grin, “My wife is going out of town & I figured it’d be a good opportunity to see my patients out in the real world. Take notes about their progress.”

You said nothing but shifted to get more comfortable.

“Okay, so.” He raised his hands lightly before bringing them back down to rest on his thighs, “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged, fingering the hem of your shorts, “Fine.”

“_____.” Dr. Mooney said your name concerningly, “You need to talk to me. I understand that you feel like you were being punished for this last week, but I really implore you to understand it’s for your well-being. You want to get better, don’t you?”

What a stupid fucking question. You nodded silently.

“The separation ends tomorrow. How are you feeling about that?”

Ecstatic. But you wouldn’t say so. You worried if you showed too much excitement towards it that he would extend the separation. “I’m just glad I won’t be treated like a prisoner anymore.”

“You’re not a prisoner. But you are under my care here. And I only separated the two of you to protect you.” Dr. Mooney frowned, “One day you’ll see that.”

“So, if Rafe & I even talk to each other tomorrow, we won’t get in trouble for that?” It wasn’t a silly question. You really needed to know how close you could be with him without getting in trouble for it.

“Of course not, _____. I am not to speak with you about other patient’s progress, but the separation was for you as much as it was for Rafe. You two are in very fragile, vulnerable stages of the recovery process. It’s typical for patients to find comfort or connection in one another, but physical comfort, physical connection is prohibited. Should you two succeed in your stay here & leave the facility, what transpires between the two of you is between the two of you, but our goal here is to have a healthy relationship. And in your case, a healthy relationship with a man is essential.”

“Is Rafe not healthy for me?” You questioned.

“Right now, no.” Dr. Mooney admitted, “And neither are you for him. You two tempt each other. You bring out each other’s recklessness. Recklessness for addicts is, as expected, always troublesome. I care about you, & Rafe, leaving here with the self-empowerment to recognize your respective addictive behaviors & the skills to navigate them in a safe, healthy manner.”

You bit your lip, frowning. You hated that he was making sense. But you were still angry.

“I’m sorry for saying you were punishing me. That you didn’t want to help me.”

Dr. Mooney smiled softly, “I accept your apology. But I am here for you, _____. I only want what is best for you.”

You nodded, “I know. I guess I just have a hard time believing that after everything.”

“Recovery is a tough, tough process. A lot of animosity, blame on others, resentment, anger, deep regret—all of those things make recovery difficult. But I still believe in you.”

For the first time in a week Dr. Mooney made your heart flutter with his praising words.

“Thank you for saying that.”

It was also the first time in a week that you smiled. Even if it was a small one.

Saturday saw you getting excitedly dressed for community service day. Nurse Carney had informed all the patients that today’s outing would be a two hour long drive to the coast for beach clean-up. You groaned at the thought of cleaning up other people’s garbage, but when she had told others to wear beach wear, your disgust quickly transitioned to anticipation. After beach clean-up, patients would be allowed to actually enjoy the beach. A reward for all your hard word & dedication to the recovery process.

So you changed into a navy blue one-piece suit then slipped into a pair of jeans & tugged on a lime green cropped hoodie. Since you were going to the beach, you wore a pair of your favorite sandals, though you knew the second you touched sand you’d be kicking them off. You couldn’t wait to feel the beach under your feet.

In the lobby, you joined the others as Nurse Carney & Dr. Mooney did a head count. You spotted Rafe along the furthest wall, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. He had yet to spot you. Glancing at Dr. Mooney briefly to see if he was curious as to what you were up to, you bravely began walking towards Rafe. But a figure stepped in front of you.

“Sit with me?” It was Albert. His hair was tied into a bun, a few strands hanging loose to kiss his forehead. You stuttered at his sudden request. And before you could even respond, Albert tugged on your arm to lead you outside where the van waited. Guess your reunion with Rafe would have to wait until the beach.

Inside the van, Albert gently pushed you back towards the furthest row before sitting beside you. Siena appeared behind him & sat on his other side. They traded looks that looked as if they were speaking to one another without words. You were about to ask them what the hell they were up to when Rafe appeared next. You let out a pleased exhale, but it was short-lived as he pointedly avoided looking in your direction.

Rafe slid into the second row, sitting directly in front of you, & Renne sat beside him. Then Dr. Mooney got into the passenger seat while Nurse Carney took to the drivers seat. Most everyone was talking jovially about today’s outing, but your elation slowly rotted away as you stared at the back of Rafe’s head. There was palpable energy rolling off him. The whole of the van was filled with laughter, screeches of joy, but where he sat was a dark cloud, & that cloud was beginning to cast over you.

You frowned to yourself. Something was wrong. Though you didn’t know Rafe well, he wasn’t the brooding type. Yet there he was slouched in his seat, staring straight ahead. You narrowed his eyes, willing him to feel the hole you were burning into the back of his head. But he never looked back. Not once.

“You okay?” You inhaled sharply as Albert broke your focus.

“Yeah, sure.” You forced a smile.

But you weren’t. You couldn’t be. Not when Rafe wasn’t.

The beach clean-up had been surprisingly a lot of fun. You contributed the fun of it to the sun & the feel of sand squished between your toes. Dr. Mooney & Nurse Carney kept a loose leash on all of you as you all traversed up & down the beach with stabbers & garbage bags. The clean-up itself lasted only a couple hours & then Nurse Carney called for everyone to join her & Dr. Mooney under a canopy they had set up for making lunch under.

Lunch was styled like a sandwich buffet. Breads, cheeses, meats, veggies, condiments, the whole shebang. You made yourself a simple ham & cheese sandwich & accepted a salad bowl from Nurse Carney that she had made. Then the seven of you ate on towels nearby. You had planned on going to sit with Rafe, but Albert & Siena snatched you up yet again, dragging you over to sit with them.

Though you were enjoying their sudden interest in you, you were mildly annoyed. You hadn’t been near Rafe in a week. All you wanted, more than anything, was just to at least eat with him. Dr. Mooney said it would be okay. And these two were preventing you from doing just that.

But once you were done eating, you were determined to approach Rafe, to spend whatever time left you had on the beach to be near him. After finishing your food, you hurriedly carried your trash back to the canopy. Nurse Carney was gathering up the lunch items & placing them back into a small chest.

“Thanks for lunch.” You told her.

She grinned, her red hair glistening against the beach backdrop, “Of course, I hope it was decent enough.”

You nodded then turned back around. Renee was down by the water in a pair of black shorts & a long sleeve. You rolled your eyes. Only she would be dressed in all black on a day out to the beach. Freak.

To your left, you watched as Albert & Siena dressed down to their respective bathing suits. Albert wore multi-colored board shorts & Siena sported a coral pink tankini. Then you peered around for the object of your desire. A couple yards away, Rafe sat on a beached log. He wore a white tank top & navy blue board shorts. Even from your vantage point you could still sense the cloud hanging over him. And on a beautiful day like this, you were set on parting the cloud hanging over him.

Removing your own hoodie, you placed on top of a nearby towel, followed by your jeans. Then you began walking towards him. It came naturally to you to walk with a little sass in your walk, it was how you often drew the male gaze to yourself, but as you grew closer to Rafe, he never once looked your eyes, even when you knew you were without a doubt in his peripheral. Once you were finally upon him, you gently kicked sand towards him.

“Why the long face?” You teased, choosing to sit on your knees on the sand before him rather than joining him on the log.

Rafe peered at you, his eyes squinting from the sun, “Did you need something?”

His cold tone & choice of words shocked you. You frowned at him, “What’s wrong?”

He chuckled darkly at your question but there was no amusement in it, “What do you want, _____?”

Words evaded you. What was his fucking deal? You were so happy, so so happy to finally be able to talk to him. And this was how he spoke to you after a week of not seeing each other? You expected him to be happier. So, why wasn’t he?

“I don’t know, I just…” His dark cloud was growing bigger. “Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”

You had just stood up & was about to walk away when a hand shot out & gripped your wrist, “Don’t leave.”

This time he spoke softly. But you couldn’t deal with his bipolar attitude. It was ruining your beach day.

You pulled your wrist from his grasp, not because you didn’t want him touching you—you did—but if Nurse Carney or, god forbid, Dr. Mooney saw, who knew what reparations may come your guys’ way.

Rafe sighed heavily, “I’m sorry. Just a lot on my mind.”

You returned to your knees, nodding in understanding, “Same here. What’s wrong though?”

Rafe shook his head, his tongue poking his lower lip out, “It’s fucking Dr. Mooney.”

At the mention of his name, you glanced over your shoulder back towards the canopy. Nurse Carney was talking animatedly by Dr. Mooney’s side, but his eyes were watching the two of you. You looked away.

“What happened?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, seemingly contemplating whether or not he would tell you, “He doesn’t want me near you.”

You shrugged, “That’s not true, Rafe. He just wants us to get better.”

Rafe scoffed at that, “Is that what he told you?”

“Well, yeah.” You brushed your hair out of your eyes as a light breeze picked up, “Isn’t that what he told you?”

Rafe glared over your shoulder, no doubt aiming it towards the doctor in question. “No. It isn’t.”

The look of malice on his face concerned you, “What did he say then?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m the only one here who would believe you.”

“You sure about that?” Rafe responded in short.

You felt doubt swell in your heart. What could Dr. Mooney possibly have said to upset Rafe?

“He wants you. He doesn’t care about you getting better. And he definitely doesn’t like how close we’ve become.”

His words shocked you. Dr. Mooney?! You stared hard at Rafe, not finding his jest funny, “Bullshit. Why are you lying?”

“See. I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” Rafe stood up, shaking his head, “Whatever. He’s obviously got you wrapped around his finger.”

Scared that Rafe was going to leave you, you rushed forward, grabbing his wrist like he had yours. You didn’t care if Dr. Mooney saw, “No, wait. I’m sorry. I’ll listen.”

Rafe stared down at you. He gently overturned his wrist, catching your hand in his, your fingers briefly tangling before he finally sat back down. You let go of his hand.

“He really said that?” You questioned. You had a hard time believing it, honestly. Dr. Mooney had never shown any interest in you like that. And you believed him when he said he was determined to help you get better. More so, why would he admit that to a patient of his own, that he was essentially going to prevent you from leaving the facility? It didn’t make sense, but you weren’t going to express that.

“He didn’t have to.” Rafe replied, his answer making you frown. “But I know him. Because I am him. He’s threatened by me.”

“No, that’s not—”

“Yes, _____. I see the way he watches you. Think about it. He knows you & your addiction better than anyone else, even yourself. He knows what to say, what to do to get you to listen to whatever he says. Even now, he hasn’t stopped looking at you once since you came over here.”

But that was because of the two of you getting caught. Nothing more. However, you couldn’t deny the burning sensation igniting deep within yourself. Was it true? Was it really true that Dr. Mooney saw you as more than a patient? You were conflicted on how to feel about it. Part of you was pleased, but the other part, disappointed.

“Something Dr. Mooney will never admit is that he’s as much of a man as any of us. He still has carnal wants. And he wants you.” Rafe told you, “And who wouldn’t. Look at you. You know what you do to men. Just because he’s your doctor doesn’t mean he doesn’t look at you like he wants a taste himself.”

His words left you feeling unwell.

“You should’ve seen the way he watched you when you got undressed just now. Probably wondering what else you have going on under there. I mean, he got a peek last week when he interrupted us. He knows you dressed down for me, not him, & it pisses him off. It pisses him off that you want someone other than him.”

You shook your head, “No. We’re at the beach! I wore this for the beach…” But you could hear the doubt in your own argument.

“You say that but we both know.” Rafe chided you, “And so does he. You’re caught in the middle, _____, don’t you see that? Being pulled between two men who want you.”

You were getting too hot, too flustered. You felt dizzy & your stomach lurched. No. Dr. Mooney didn’t want you. He couldn’t. Rafe was just fucking with you again. He had to be. Dr. Mooney was a good man, a good doctor. He cared about you. Rafe didn’t.

Angry, you stood up, glaring down at Rafe, “You’re lying. That’s what you do. You manipulate. Just like how you manipulated me in the quiet room.”

Rafe laughed loudly at that, “I manipulated you? Or were you just desperate for someone to want you?”

“Fuck you.” Your voice broke as tears pierced your vision.

“Well, I would’ve if your precious doctor hadn’t stopped us.” Rafe stood with you, stepping close enough to touch but he didn’t, “You know what I’m talking about. You know when a man wants you. You’re really telling me you haven’t noticed?”

Rafe’s words embedded themselves into your skin.

Not Dr. Mooney. No.

But you weren’t sure. Not anymore.

Rafe sniffed, licking his lips as he stared down the beach, “He may say he cares about you, but he doesn’t. You’ll see for yourself. Just wait.”

“You’re wrong.” Your voice shook.

“Fine.” Rafe caught your chin, forcing you look up at him, “You say that now. But when you see what I’m talking about, don’t come running to me.”

With that, Rafe left you where you stood. You kept your arms wrapped around yourself, uncomfortable. Today was supposed to be a good day. A beach day with Rafe. But now, you wished for nothing more than to be locked within the confines of your room.

Storming towards the canopy, you ignored the concerned looks Nurse Carney & Dr. Mooney were sending you way. Turning your back to them, you slipped back into your cropped hoodie & jeans.

“_____? Are you alright?” Dr. Mooney asked from behind you.

“Fine.” You feigned a smile, “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dr. Mooney stood to your right. You couldn’t look him in the eye, afraid you’d see what Rafe insisted was there.

“Yes. I’ll be nearby.”

Passing by him, you slipped your shades onto your face to hide the tears that threatened to fall. This beach day could go to hell for all you cared.

part five(:

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astrobei · 1 year

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every byler creator who has ever felt unappreciated or has never seen their work on a rec list or has stayed awake for hours working on something for it to get no interaction or has had their work passed up in favor of the big fandom favorites or has never been taken a chance on or has ever come last in a poll they didn’t ask to be on or has felt self conscious about posting or about calling themselves a creator if what they’re posting is not a magnum opus or has created something for themselves and still hoped deep down that people would love it: get behind me. i’ll protect u

#i’m five foot three and terrified of confrontation but i’ll go down swinging #andi would like me to add that she and i are standing on top of each other in a trench coat fighting for u all #thea is also wearing a trench coat but it’s just her and tutter in there #u all better fear thea’s fully developed frontal lobe and streamlined leadership experience (her words)#but seriously guys like #maybe i’m taking fandom too seriously or whatever but i know how scary it can be to put urself out there #especially in fandom spaces where the whole point is u want to enjoy urself and be accepted and not be judged #i’d be lying if i said that luck and timing wasn’t a huge part of why ppl enjoy my fics #and i’m flattered that my name shows up in rec lists a lot but. there are so so so many talented writers that go unnoticed when ppl fixate #on the same 5-6 names #and i know bc i’ve been them for other fandoms!#especially in this community there is such a big issue with putting big creators up on a pedestal #expecting them to be perfect and to keep churning out high quality stuff for free on demand #twt is something else too . like i’m not even talking abt that rn #and people always saying stuff like #‘atp i refuse to read fics unless they’re by _ or _ or _’#just know that even if u are not one of these names u are so so valued and appreciated #get behind me fr #ok Bye <3333333 #🫂#byler #/astro posts

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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

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with every beat of my heart

also on ao3 cw: grief, death of a parent, past child abuse, panic attack

Steve isn't in bed when Eddie wakes up.

That's what wakes him up in the first place. The lack of Steve's warmth, the way the mattress isn't dipping under his weight and dragging Eddie closer to him the way it usually does. It's still dark when Eddie blinks his eyes open, and he slides a hand out over the mattress, feeling the blankets that have been tossed back and set over Eddie's body. It's cold. Eddie pushes himself up, listening closely for the creaky floorboards in the hallway of their apartment, for any indication that Steve just went to the bathroom, went for some water or painkillers, but the apartment is silent.

Eddie sits up, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. His whole body aches the way it always does when he wakes up, but he pushes himself to his feet anyway, untangling from the blankets in the dark and tossing them back to the bed.

He creeps down the hall, squinting in the dark until he looks around the corner to see the kitchen light shining under the crooked door.

"Stevie?" he says weakly, his voice rough as he pushes the door open.

Steve is sitting at the dining table, his arms crossed on it in front of him. He's staring at the tablecloth like it's speaking to him, and he doesn't look up until Eddie says his name again. He blinks, his eyes raising up to look at Eddie blankly.

"Hey," he says, like it's perfectly normal for him to be here at two in the morning.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks, blinking his eyes in the bright light of the kitchen. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Steve breathes. "Fine."

"Steve." He goes to stand next to Steve so Steve is looking up at him, and he pushes a hand through Steve's tangled hair. It's longer now, unkempt and beautiful. Steve blinks up at him, exhaling. "What happened? You have a nightmare?"

"No," Steve says softly. "My mom called."

Eddie blinks, fully awake. She's not supposed to have their number. Steve went zero contact with his parents when they moved out of Hawkins.

"How did she..."

"Joyce gave it to her."

Eddie blinks again. Joyce knows all about Steve's parents. She wouldn't do that without a good fucking reason.

"What did she have to say?" Eddie asks softly, pulling a chair over and sitting down in front of Steve. The chairs are mismatched. All of them are. From garage sales and second-hand stores.

Steve stares at him for another few moments, his eyes almost empty. Absent. A pit grows in Eddie's stomach. Steve isn't even moving. He's usually fidgeting with something, tapping his fingers, bouncing his knee, rubbing the fabric of his shirt, rocking back and forth. Especially when Eddie made it very clear when they moved in together that it was all fine. None of it is annoying, or childish, or weird. Eddie waits while Steve stares at him, wanting to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand or his cheek, but the pit in Eddie's stomach says that's not what Steve needs right now.

"My dad's dead," Steve says finally, blinking. His eyes clear up a little bit, finally looking at Eddie instead of through him.

Eddie blinks, straightening.

"Oh."

He doesn't know what to say.

He doesn't know what there is he could say.

"He had a heart attack last night," Steve continues, possibly picking up on Eddie's speechlessness. "He didn't make it." He cracks an odd smile, tilting his head, but it fades just as quickly as it appeared. "Guess all that anger finally caught up with him."

Eddie feels sick. Like he has a fever. Too hot, almost shivering.

"How do you feel?" he asks softly.

"Mom's having a hard time," Steve says, like he's ignoring the question, but Eddie knows it just didn't register. He's not really hearing Eddie right now. "She was crying on the phone, I-- I didn't really know what to say? I said he's in a better place, but that feels so shallow, I mean--"

"Baby," Eddie interrupts. Steve shuts up, looking at him with wide eyes like he's in trouble, so Eddie finally reaches a hand out, holding it open and waiting. Steve looks at his hand like it's foreign for a moment before he slides his hand into it. He's shaking. "How do you feel?" Eddie asks again, slower.

"I..." Steve takes a deep breath, blinking at their hands, at the bands around their ring fingers they bought the day they left Hawkins. Not legal wedding rings, but neither of them has ever really cared about the law. "I don't know."

"Do you wanna go through it or around it?" Eddie asks gently. It's the same question they ask each other whenever they have nightmares or flashbacks or just generally hard days. Always a quicker way to other questions.Do you wanna tell me about it or go back to sleep? Do you wanna describe what happened or watch a movie? Do you wanna talk about it or have sex? Do you wanna cry for a while or go for a drive? But they always go through it eventually, even if they go around it first.

"I don't know," Steve breathes, his eyes suddenly glistening as he stares through the floor. "I don't know, I don't-- I don't know."

"You want me to decide?"

Steve looks into his eyes, looking scared and small and desperate. He nods. Eddie squeezes his hand and takes a deep breath.

"Let's go through it," he says softly, listening to the way Steve's voice stutters in his throat. Eddie nods encouragingly, squeezing again. "'S okay, I'm right here," he murmurs. "We'll go through it together, okay?"

"Okay," Steve says.

"Tell me what you're feeling."

Steve takes another breath.

"...Confused."

"Why?"

Steve licks his lips, looking at their hands, and his face hardens after a moment as he bites his lip, and his lip quivers, and Eddie can tell that he's aching to go around it instead. But Steve looks up into Eddie's eyes, and Eddie gives him a nod. You got it. Whatever it is you're feeling, it's okay. And Steve goes through it.

"That man," he says slowly. "Was a piece... of fucking shit."

Eddie almost smiles. He nods.

"He..." Steve takes a deep breath. Eddie squeezes his hand. "He made me fucking miserable. Every fucking day." His voice is firm, unwavering. "He made my life a living hell. And I don't..." He shakes his head like he's speechless, like he's in disbelief, and then his eyebrows furrow as his eyes fill with tears, but he squeezes them shut so the tears all fall down his cheeks, and he steadies himself. "I used to--" His voice breaks, and he chokes on it, pausing to swallow. "I used to lay in bed at night," he says, his voice softer. "And... And wish he'd fucking die. I would wish he'd have a heart attack, or-- or get in a car accident, or be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and it's so fucking shitty, but I--" He cuts off with a scoff, his expression lightening. "Every birthday wish, every eleven-eleven, every goddamn ladybug that landed on me in the summertime. I wished he'd die. I wished he'd be one of those shitty dads that just up and left his family for no good reason."

Eddie listens intently, his eyes burning, holding Steve's hand tightly.

"The only time I ever prayed," Steve says quietly, "to a god I never even believed in, it was to ask God to make my dad fuck off the face of the earth." He laughs again, dryly, weakly, shaking his head. "And now..." He swallows again. "Now, fucking what?" He looks up again, at Eddie, but he's looking through him again. Eddie nods anyway, listening. "Now I turn twenty-four, and I'm long fucking gone and he just... Now he dies." His lip is quivering, his eyes gleaming with tears. "That's not fair," he whispers.

Eddie shakes his head in agreement, because it's not fucking fair. It's not fucking fair that Steve lived in that goddamn house in fear for his whole life, his whole childhood, surviving instead of living, and only now, when he has a home, is it safe to go back.

"And that's--" Steve chokes. "That's cruel, and shitty of me to say, but I-- I don't care."

"'S not shitty, Steve," Eddie says, squeezing his hand.

"It is," Steve argues weakly. "But I don't care. He... He hurt me. For years," he says, and he's crying now, tears falling down his face that Eddie wipes away with every ounce of care he can. "And now he's dead, and I never got to tell him to his face how much he hurt me. Or how much he scared me, and I never got to tell him that I'm not scared of him anymore. Because he--" He swallows, blinking tears out of his eyes, emphasizing with a movement of the hand that Eddie isn't holding, like he doesn't want to let go of Eddie's. "Because he was nothing," Steve chokes, "but a fucking coward that put his hands on a child, and that really wasn't fair."

Eddie nods, pride glowing in his chest because Steve is getting it. He's getting everything that Eddie's tried to tell him for years, every time he's woken up from nightmares about coming home late to find his father waiting to interrogate him, about breaking a glass dish as a child because the counters were too high.

"But he-- I'm so angry," Steve says, the last word breaking on its way out, too breathy and soft. "Because why now?" A tear falls from Eddie's eye, and even in his anger and confusion, Steve wipes it away gently, almost mindlessly. "I'm twenty fucking four, and he-- he dies now. Why not-- Why not when I was eight? Or-- Or twelve? Or fifteen? Why not when I needed it to happen? Why not when I prayed for it to happen? It's not fucking fair."

"No," Eddie chokes. "'S not fair, Stevie."

"I'm so angry," Steve says, crying, gasping for breath, his hand trembling as it grips Eddie's. "I'm so angry, Eddie, I don't-- It's like there's no space in me for anything else."

Eddie lifts his hand and kisses it softly, because he can't find any words right now.

"Is this grief?" Steve wonders out loud, his eyes wandering to the floor, tracing the tiles desperately like they'll lead to an answer. "Do you have to love someone to grieve them?"

Eddie's chest aches. He wants to go around it. He doesn't want to go through it anymore.

"Because I have never loved him," Steve says almost thoughtfully, passionately. "But I..." He's still looking at the floor, and a part of Eddie wonders if Steve remembers that he's even here. If he's even still speaking to Eddie, or if he's just thinking out loud. "But if something happened to you," Steve says, answering Eddie's silent question, "or-- or Robbie, or Dustin, or..." He shakes his head, shrugging weakly. "I would be... on the floor. Screaming-- I-- I don't think I could handle it, I would be so... so angry." He looks up into Eddie's eyes. "At the fucking universe, at God, at everything that could possibly be responsible for it, but with him," Steve says. His head tilts forward, and his eyes widen. "I'm angry at him. It's like he died out of fucking spite. Like he knew, like he fucking waited. And that's not fair."

He's quiet for a moment before,

"Is it my fault?"

Eddie blinks a tear out of his eye, squeezing his hand tightly.

"Did he die because I left?" Steve asks. "Was it too much for him? Did he..."

"Steve," Eddie says firmly, prompting Steve to look into his eyes, and Eddie leans forward, speaking slowly, deliberately, firmly, leaving no room for argument. "This is not your fault. Nothing he ever did to you was your fault. You understand me?"

Steve's lip quivers, and tears spill from his eyes.

"I'm so angry, Eddie," he whispers brokenly, and Eddie nods.

"I know, honey," he says, and he stands, pulling at Steve's shoulders until Steve wraps his arms around Eddie's hips tightly, burying his face in Eddie's belly. Eddie pushes his fingers into his hair, tugging it firmly the way he likes, and he looks up at the cracked paint on the ceiling when Steve's shoulders shake as he cries. "You haven't done anything wrong," he says gently, his voice wavering. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"I'm so angry," Steve sobs into his shirt, and Eddie can barely understand him. He nods even though Steve can't see him, pulling his hair again, sliding a hand down to his upper back firmly. "I'm so angry."

"You can be angry," Eddie says softly.

The sun is rising by the time Steve stops crying. Eddie is tired from standing, but he'd stay here for days for him. Steve leaves his face buried in Eddie's belly for a little while as he catches his breath, and Eddie combs through his hair softly, holding him, loving him. When Steve finally pulls away, his eyes are wide.

"My heart," he says breathlessly. Eddie's stomach falls, and he lowers himself to kneel on the floor in front of Steve. "'S beating too-- 'S beating too fast."

"You're okay," Eddie says softly, taking Steve's hand. It's shaking almost violently, and Eddie holds it tightly. "You're okay."

"Heart attack," Steve says, his chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes flicking back and forth between Eddie's. "I'm--"

"You're not having a heart attack," Eddie says calmly, leaning close to look into his eyes, squeezing his hand before he holds it to his own chest. "You're having a panic attack. You're okay."

"Eddie, I'm-- I'm gonna die," Steve chokes, his voice slurred with panic, his words muddled together. Eddie blinks tears back, staying calm for him, and he shakes his head.

"You're not dying, my love," he says slowly. He reaches a hand up and pushes his fingers into Steve's hair, pulling it gently. "Take a deep breath for me."

Steve tries, but he's hyperventilating, his eyes wide and crying, looking desperately at Eddie, who nods, taking a deep breath himself, exaggerating the rise and fall of his chest, holding Steve's hand to it.

"You're okay," Eddie says. "Your heart is okay."

"'M angry," Steve says weakly, breathlessly.

"You can be angry," Eddie says calmly. "Your heart is okay, even if you're angry." He takes another breath, and Steve follows along, even though his breath catches and stutters and he gasps as Eddie is still exhaling. "You're not your father, Steve," Eddie says softly. "You're nothing like him."

"Eddie," Steve whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut, pressing his hand against Eddie's chest harder, his other hand gripping Eddie's forearm. "Please."

"I'm right here, baby," Eddie murmurs. "Take a deep breath for me."

Steve tries again.

"There you go," Eddie whispers. "You're okay."

"'M okay," Steve mumbles weakly.

"That's right, Stevie, you're okay. Deep breath, all the way in, all the way out."

Steve tries again.

And again.

Steve falls against Eddie when he finally gets a clear breath, like the exhale deflates him, and Eddie wraps his arms around him tightly. He's trembling, like he's freezing.

"I love you so much," Eddie murmurs in his ear. "You did so good, baby."

Steve whimpers. He's crying again. Eddie combs through his hair and keeps murmuring to him softly.

When he stops crying, Eddie carefully shifts to hold his head between his hands, and he presses kisses across his face, even though his skin is covered with tears, and his nose is running. He kisses over his forehead, and the bridge of his nose, and his cheeks, and his eyelids, and his lips, and his chin, and across his jaw and down his neck, all the while whispering to him.

I love you so much, Stevie. You did such a good job. You're okay, sweetheart.

When Steve opens his eyes, there's a soft sort of absence in them that only gets there after particularly bad nightmares. (The ones where Eddie doesn't make it.) Eddie lowers back to the floor, looking up into his eyes, and he runs his thumbs over his cheeks softly. Steve squeezes his wrist weakly, exhausted.

Eddie gets him a glass of water and stands next to him as he sips it slowly, running his hands through his hair, closing his eyes when Steve leans against him. It takes a while for Steve to finish it, but Eddie waits patiently, knowing the glass is heavy in his hand, knowing Steve wants to disappear right now. When he finishes the water, Eddie sits back in the chair in front of him, holding both his hands tightly. Steve is slouching over, looking at their hands. Eddie squeezes.

"Stevie," he whispers.

"Yeah," Steve breathes.

"Look at me for a minute."

Steve's eyes raise to his. They're glassy, shining brightly, and Eddie's chest hurts.

"It's okay to be angry," he says softly, intentionally and carefully. "And it's okay to cry. And there's nothing wrong with anything you're feeling. You understand me?"

"I don't wanna be angry," Steve says weakly, his voice small. "'M tired of being angry. I don't wanna turn into him."

"Steve," Eddie whispers. "You are nothing like him." He reaches a hand to Steve's chest and holds it there. "You have... the purest heart out of anyone I know," he says gently. "You would never do any of the things he did to you."

"I know," Steve breathes, but he doesn't seem to believe him.

"Do you trust me?" Eddie asks. Steve nods without hesitation. "Will you believe what I tell you?"

Steve stares into his eyes, now clutching Eddie's hand in both of his.

"...Okay."

"You have a beautiful soul," Eddie whispers. "And I trust you," he adds, raising his eyebrows, watching Steve's lips curve into the smallest smile Eddie's ever seen. The morning sunlight is shining on him now. He looks like an angel, his messy hair glowing in a golden halo. "You are a good, good man," Eddie says softly. "And I will remind you as many times as you need, I will remind you with every fucking beat of my heart, that you are a good man."

Steve's lip quivers again, and he closes his eyes like he's absorbing the words. A tear slides down his cheek. Eddie wipes it away tenderly.

"I love you so fucking much, Stevie."

"I love you too," Steve gasps, taking a hiccuping breath, but he exhales smoothly, blowing the air out so it blows Eddie's hair.

"Let's go to bed," Eddie murmurs.

"Okay."

Eddie leads him down the creaky hallway, holding his hand, after pouring him more water to drink. Steve gets in bed while Eddie pulls the curtains together more to block the sunlight, and then he crawls into bed too, already holding his arms out for Steve to lie in. He closes his eyes, pressing his face into Steve's hair, running his fingers through it when he feels him crying again.

He doesn't drift off until he knows Steve is asleep, when Steve is heavy against him, relaxed and breathing evenly, slowly.

Instead of going to the funeral, which his mother calls about the next week, Steve stays home with Eddie and watches a movie. Steve starts to cry halfway through it, wracked by guilt and fear and anger, and Eddie just wraps an arm around him silently, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Steve smiles the next day, light on his feet and bright in a way Eddie's never seen, and through all the years Eddie's known Steve, he's known about his father, but he realises after the funeral is done with that he never really knew the extent of it. Because after the funeral is done, Steve never has to worry about anything to do with his father again. And his eyes shine brightly, and Eddie thinks there might be a whole galaxy behind him that Eddie still hasn't explored.

Steve still gets angry sometimes, but that's okay. Because his father's face is fading from his memory, and his mother never calls him again. And Eddie reminds him as often as he can that he loves him, that he trusts him, that he's pure and beautiful and has a heart of gold. That he's okay, that he's good.

After his father dies, Steve never dreams about him again.

#me: i can finish part 14 of love me softly tonight it shouldn't take too long #my brain: no youre going to write a grief fic that'll make you cry at five in the morning #okay i am going to go to bed and hope i can maybe be productive in a few hours bc its almost six am #or at least that ill be so tired and out of it i can finish my tasks without think ing #i have so much laundry to do #wish me luck #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie oneshot #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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nerevar-quote-and-star · 2 months

Text

Dangerously close to plotting a real Skyrim/Lord of the Rings crossover for after Keeping Count because my secret desire for Leara/Glorfindel has reared its head again

Shhh Don't question it.

#look look now i must explain #the explanation is that leara simply works well with literally every male character I like at least for the most part #anyway #it'd be funny #i wish i could write a leara/astarion fic but i do NOT understand d&d at all alas #I understand lotr/silm on a crazy level so i guess sunshine hero elf it is #this is fine actually #actually what i really need to do is edit and finish my funny Skyrim/hobbit crack fic but that's a ten year old project #no really #I do NOT KNOW i am just having thoughts and i'm sharing them on my blog because it's mine and I can #also i was in the glorfindel/ofc tag on ao3 like five minutes ago and it looks empty and sad #so Leara can fix it #one day there will be more leara ships than there are for hermione granger jk maybe #i should make a list #I am talking out of my hair it is unlikely that i'll ever do anything the fact that keeping count even exists is a bloody miracle #mod post #oc: leara roseblade

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didhewinkback · 11 months

Text

Something Old: Part Five

word count: 20k (omfg); story page

warnings: smut smut smut

---

“No - mum - you’ve gotta tilt the - I can’t see - can you get Archie to help you?”

“Oi, I’m not a bloody senior citizen, I can handle a bit of tech.”

“Okay, but the way you’ve got the camera angled, I’m looking up your nostrils right now.” you say, watching as she tries to angle the camera differently, only making your view worse.

“Oh bugger it all…” she mutters before shouting: “Archie!!!” almost right into the microphone, making you cringe.

“Right in my ear, mum.”

“Sorry, love.” she says, before bringing the phone closer to her face, bringing you impossibly closer to her nose hairs. “You alright, bug? Looking a bit peaky.”

“Yeah, you look like shit.” Archie says as he snatches your mum’s phone out of her hand, making a face at you on the screen.

“Hello to you too, dickhead.” you shoot back.

“Language!!” your mum clucks.

“Mum, he literally started it.” you say as Archie snickers on the other end, flipping you off, before passing the phone back to your mum with a “it’s this button here”, and then suddenly you’re staring at her new garden, fresh azaleas that she and Anne planted fully in bloom.

“Oh, it looks great!”

“Changing the subject, I see,” she muses, before stage whispering, “Don’t worry, I won’t mention the H word.”

“Mummmm,” you groan, Archie’s laugh echoing as he heads back into the house. “I’m fine, honestly. Just haven’t been sleeping well, been a weird few days.”

“Yeah, gotta be a tough month, huh?” she says, quickly speaking over you when she sees you open your mouth. “I know, I know, we’re not talking about it. Let’s check out these pansies…”

Right. That. It had been one month since you last saw Harry. One month since you last spoke to him, since he last held your hand, since he last kissed you, since he last pressed you into the mattress…okay, best not think about that when you’re on the phone with your mum.

It’s been an adjustment, to say the least. Once you touched back down in London, you realized you had no plan for what you were going to tell the people in your life about what went down. The ones who knew you and Harry, the ones who were at the wedding, the ones who would have about 18 billion questions for you. Like your mum who was about to have your head if you didn’t give her some sort of update. Or your schoolmates from home, who were blowing up the group chat with their 8th conspiracy theory about what really went down by now. Or your roommate Roxy, who knew you like the back of her hand, and was the first to steer you towards the bar the first night you met Erin and was the one who held you while you cried when they announced their engagement. You trusted her with your life, but could you trust her with Harry’s?

To even question that made you ill. You had been so caught up in your Italian lovenest that you hadn’t taken any time to think about the reality you were coming back to. A wedding was supposed to happen but didn’t because of you. No matter how many times Harry tried to take the blame, you know your confession was the catalyst, the impetus for him calling it off. And now you had to face the consequences alone. Did you pretend you knew just about as much as everyone else, which you’re hoping is not much? Lie to the people you’re closest to? For two months?! That sounded insane but you also knew you couldn’t go around telling everyone the whole truth. Jesus Christ.

You hid in your room for a day or two, slowly digging your way out of the hole you found yourself in, taking it one step at a time, wishing you could talk this over with him, but knowing you couldn’t. You decided to operate on a strict need to know basis, which means your mates from out were out. You left the group chat alone, there were enough messages in there that maybe they won’t realize you never responded and it’d be far too suspicious to join the conversation now. Johnny definitely knew something was up, he had sent you a separate but simple “hope he went and got you x” that made your head spin a bit, as you realized he’s probably known something was up for years but you could deal with that later.

You called your mum to assure her you were alright, back safe in your flat, that you would come home to visit soon and explain everything when you could. She was not satisfied with that answer, you could practically feel her rolling her eyes at you through the phone, but she let you off the hook, this time. And, now that you think about it, you couldn’t go home because that would mean seeing Anne and who knows what she knows and what you could tell her and what Harry doesn’t want her to know quite yet -

Okay. No. You couldn’t live like this.

You had still been ruminating on what to do about Roxy as you snuck out to grab a glass of water, wondering how to approach this. You needed someone to talk to, you couldn’t just keep this all bottled up on your own and this was one of your best friends, and your newer, closer proximity to Harry wasn’t going to change that.

“Okay I let you have one day to mope but you had about two hours before I was going to stage an intervention.”

The sound of her voice made you jump in the air, so caught in your head you didn’t even hear her approach.

“Jesus Christ, Rox. Scared the shit out of me.” you said, turning to face her.

“I’m serious, babe. You’ve been like a little recluse.” she said, propping herself up to sit on the counter. “How bad was it? Didn’t hear from you all weekend and you haven’t left your room…so I’m assuming, pretty bad.”

Moment of truth. You could lie and pretend for the next two months or you could tell the truth. Have someone to confide in. She had been on this journey with you for years and she would absolutely kill you if she learned you were hiding this from her.

“Um. Actually. He didn’t get married.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m serious.”

“Is it because…” her eyes searched your face, widening when she realized. “Holy shit. Did you? Oh my god - I’m actually going to cry. Did you tell him?”

You nod.

“That’s my girl!!” she screamed before tackling you to the ground, the two of you cracking up the whole way as she demanded details.

After you swore her to secrecy, to which she scoffed “Mildly insulted you even had to ask, babe.” you told her everything. From the confession in the courtyard, to him asking you to leave with him, to a first date in Italy, to where you are now, on pause. It feels insane to say it all out loud, in disbelief that this is your life, that that whirlwind 72 hours actually happened.

“You’re going to make me believe in love again.” Roxy said, still laying on the kitchen floor with you.

“Shut up.” you said, rolling your eyes, unable to stop the blush on your cheeks.

“I’m serious. So happy for you. And proud of you. ” she said, reaching out her hand for you to hold on to. “I know this next bit is gonna be rough, but you got through all that shit to get here. And you got me. Yeah?”

So you thought, yeah, okay, maybe you could do this. You threw yourself into work and catching up with friends, doing anything you could to distract yourself, ignoring headlines and social media at all cost. Some weeks were easier than others, with Roxy always there to drag you out with your friends when you were getting too overwhelmed by it all.

You went home, which was awkward at first, until you assured your family that everything was good but complicated, that you were figuring things out and it would be easier not to talk about it. To which your parents reluctantly agreed, both looking chuffed and a bit red around the eyes as they squeezed you a little tighter. Archie tried his luck later at the pub when it was just the two of you, only dropping it after being sure you knew “if he hurts you, I’ll kill him” in a way only younger brothers can.

You could do this. As long as you were distracted with work, family, friends. As long as you didn’t let your mind wander, as long as you kept busy, as long as you didn’t think about Harry or Erin or the wedding you ruined or the relationship you were maybe in that was on pause. It was then you began to falter. Late nights where you found yourself seconds away from googling him, wanting to be sure that both teams held up their end of the bargain, before shutting off your phone, knowing if something changed, he would tell you.

You could drive yourself crazy wondering what he was up to, if he was happy, if he’d want this break to go on for longer, if the time away made him change his mind. As the weeks went on, you began missing him more than ever, his absence weighing more heavily on you than it ever had in years before. It felt different, this time.

You had never felt like this before, in a relationship. Like you needed the other person. Not even in any sort of way, just needed to hear their voice or see their face. You missed him so viscerally it was shocking to you, and made you question everything. Why were you missing him so much? Was it just because you loved him or was it because you were so insecure you couldn’t believe the relationship would work unless you had eyes on him? What type of person does that make you? Erin would be able to handle a two month pause. Doubts crept into your mind, as you tossed and turned on your bed in the late hours, unable to quiet your racing mind. Insecurity wove its way into your brain, feeling pathetic in a way you hadn’t in years.

So yeah, you hadn’t been getting much sleep.

“Is Roxy there, love? Would love to say hi.” your mum said, pulling you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to the present.

“Do a wellness check on me, you mean?” you ask ruefully as you get up to head to Roxy’s room, knocking softly before entering as she leaps up to take the phone from your hands, almost immediately closing the door on you, to have the conversation away from your prying ears.

“Mama Ang!!” you heard her crow before her voice dropped down to a whisper. “You know, babe, I know just about as much as you do. The girl won’t tell me anything…”

You rolled your eyes, though it was hardly annoying to be this looked after. You had a great support system to get you through this. You were fine. You could handle sleepless nights and moments of doubt, you had great people in your life there to support you and fill the gaping hole you were beginning to feel in his absence.

It was about a week and a half later when it all fell apart.

The distractions were becoming less effective, the questions and doubts rattling around in your brain more often than not. And then…it was just one of those days. You slept past your alarm, the line at the cafe down the street was too long to stop at before work and you were almost positive you were about to get your period, if the way you teared up watching a girl and her grandma reading together on the tube was any indication.

Then, you hadn’t been paying close attention at work and had missed an entire section on a grant proposal that had been sent in earlier that day. Your boss called you into her office and reamed you out, making you feel like a proper idiot. You never make mistakes like this but that didn’t seem to matter. You spent several hours on the phone before the board agreed to accept the edited proposal, which you stayed after hours to write up and send in. It was late when you arrived home, exhausted and wrung out, just looking forward to taking a hot shower and getting into bed when you saw a note from Roxy on the coffee table saying the hot water was off and the landlord couldn’t come until tomorrow to fix it.

And that was it.

You collapsed on the couch, tears immediately pouring out of your eyes in frustration, stress, exhaustion, all the emotions you had been trying to keep at bay the past month rushing forward. You were dialing your phone before you realized what you were doing, eyes flying open when you heard the first few rings and immediately hanging up. You couldn’t do that, not yet. There were still a few weeks until the end date and this hardly constituted an emergency, just a bad day you could get over by yourself despite how badly you wanted to hear his voice. Feeling so sorry for yourself another fresh round of tears sprung to your eyes.

He probably wouldn’t even notice the missed call but maybe you should text him just in case? Like a “please ignore, that was an accident”? You didn’t want to double down when you weren’t supposed to be in communication at all. You hated this feeling of overwhelming doubt, questioning yourself at every turn, resistant to even slightly overstep the boundaries he had asked for. You hadn’t been thinking. Why did you dial his number?!

Your phone started to vibrate in your hands.

Shit.

It was him.

You wiped your face, clearing your throat in an attempt to sound like you hadn’t in fact been having a mental breakdown, adjusting your airpods before you answered.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly, as if he ran to pick up the phone. “Just saw you called - wouldn’t have missed it if I saw.”

“Oh you could have missed it. It’s not important.” Your words were flying out of your mouth, tripping over your tongue in embarrassment. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean -”

“Whoa, hey. ‘S alright.” he says gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” you say, your voice coming out choked, a bit strained, completely unconvincing. You clear your throat. “Just a shit day and wasn’t thinking and called your number on instinct. Wasn’t trying - I didn’t mean to break the pause.”

“Fuck the pause. We started it, we can break it.”

“It’s really not important –”

“Sounds like y’ crying, that sounds important to me –”

“But H, you asked for space –”

“Yeah space to sort my life out, not to leave you alone when you’re upset.” he says adamantly. “Know what I asked for but y’called me crying and I don’t care if it was an accident or not, ‘m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

“But I’m not gonna just barrel all over the boundaries we set and the space you needed because I had a bad day.”

“I appreciate that and I promise I’d tell you if I thought this was crossing a line that I didn’t want to. But ‘s not. Want you to talk to me.”

“If you’re sure - ”

“Dead sure. Quite flattered that I’m your go-to call.”

“Okay,” you say, snorting a laugh as you roll your eyes. “Now I’m gonna hang up.”

“Heeey. Talk to me. Please?”

And you do. You catch him up on your day, your boss being an asshole but also you feeling so stupid because you did in fact mess up and it wasn't like you were getting yelled at for nothing. He responds in all the right places, each hum, gasp or “fuck them” he utters making your heart warm, the feeling of talking to him for the first time in weeks settling something in you, tears long forgotten.

“Shit day,” he says emphatically once you finish as you hum in response. “Know I don’t know much about that world but I do know that you’re brilliant at that job. And there are very few people who would own up to a mistake and stay late to make it even better than before. They’re lucky to have you and they better bloody know it.”

You snort out a laugh.

“‘M serious.”

“I know you are.” you say softly, playing with the pillow on your lap, fingers scratching over the patterns. “Thank you for listening.”

“Course.” he says, just as soft. “I miss you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he says, scoffing a laugh. ‘Why do y’sound surprised?”

“I’m not, I just was getting so in my head the last few weeks, it’s been nice to hear your voice.”

“Getting in your head about what?”

“Oh, no, it’s going to sound so stupid -”

“Try me.”

You heave a sigh, feeling your cheeks warm. He says your name gently, pleadingly.

“I’m not sure I even know how to articulate it.”

“Take your time, love. ‘S just me. Not going anywhere.”

You pause, listening to the sounds of him breathing on the other end, the silence helping you focus.

“I just think I…” you pause, taking a breath. “I’ve been surprised by how different this feels? Like I’ve gone this long without seeing you or talking to you before and it’s been fine but the last two weeks I’ve felt like, needy for you in a way I’ve not felt before.”

He hums in surprise, you can practically see the way his eyebrows shoot up, can hear the smile growing on his face.

“Okay, you arse, not like that.” you say, laughing when he does. “Okay - not entirely like that. I just think… I didn’t expect to miss you this much. Like I miss you more than I ever have. And the stakes are different this time, I just –”

You pause, every thought you’ve had these past few days rattling around in your brain as you try to sort them out. He stays silent on the other end, patient. Not pushing you into speaking before you’re ready.

“I think I didn’t realize how much I was affected by what happened the last time we saw each other. To go from not having you to having you to suddenly not having you again...it scares me that something like that could happen again.”

You hear him inhale sharply on the other end, every self conscious fiber of your being telling you to be quiet, to tell him you’re fine, it’s all good and you’ll see him in a month. It’s what you’ve always done with him, it’s what you did all those years ago, scrubbing at dishes in the sink at Christmas when he looked so confused and lost, wanting to scream all your emotions at the top of your lungs but instead swallowing them down and hiding yourself away. It’s not like that anymore, things are different and you’re different. You have to plow through.

“And I know that’s why we’re doing what we’re doing, why we’re on pause, to sort everything out which was necessary and I don’t regret it at all. And I know this pause isn’t how our relationship will feel, like a pause is different, in the future we’ll be talking more often and seeing each other. I just think I wasn’t expecting to feel all this much.”

“It’s never felt like this before, for me. A relationship, I mean. I got so self conscious about why I was missing you so much that I started to doubt things and feel insecure but talking to you now I think I just…”

“You just what?” he asks gently.

“Just…really love you?” You say with an embarrassed laugh, hearing the almost startled sound he makes, like his emotions got caught in his throat. “I've not felt like this before about anyone. Not even you. Which is amazing and scary and… I’m so used to closing parts of myself off to you in order to hide my true feelings for you which aren’t a secret anymore. So it's an adjustment, to fight against the instinct to keep things to myself, not to show all my cards. Because I want you to know all of me, all the cards, I'm just not used to knowing that can happen.”

“Makes sense. I think there’s definitely going to be adjustments as we’re entering new territory. But I’m here for all of it. I don’t want you keeping your feelings from me.”

“I know, I’m still getting used to it, I guess.”

“Yeah, I get that. But I love when you need me.”

“Yeah, I’m well aware –”

“Oiii you didn’t let me finish,” he all but whines. “Just mean you can be kind of a closed book–”

“Hmm, sound familiar?”

“Y’keep interrupting me and ‘m gonna hang up.”

“No, you won’t.”

He pauses.

“No, I won’t. You’re lucky you’re hot.”

That startles a laugh out of you, his chuckles on the other end warming you down to your toes.

“If you would let me finish - my sentence you numpty -” he says quickly the second he hears your intake of breath, effectively cutting off the sexual innuendo he somehow knew you were gearing up to say. “Y’ always encourage me to tell you what’s on my mind, but so rarely do the same for yourself. And I…I want all of it, with you. All of the mess and the ugly feelings. Think we got ourselves into this mess by keeping too much to ourselves and that’s the last thing I want. When it comes to you, I want it all.”

“And it goes both ways, ‘ve gotta be letting you in too. Like..” he takes a deep breath, letting out a sheepish laugh at himself. “I almost called you about 8 times that first week, convinced y’ were going to realize I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

“What?”

“We were in so many meetings about when I would first be photographed again, how long I should stay away from the public for ‘nd I was just like why would anyone sign up for a lifetime of this if they didn’t have to?”

“Harry - “

“I know it’s crazy and we can talk about it more when we see each other again - just wanted you to know that the doubts are happening to me, too. And then I talk to you and it’s exactly as you said.” he says and you can practically hear the smile in his voice. God, you miss him. “‘S never felt like this for me, either. And it’s nice to know that all the bullshit and fears don’t come close to how I feel about you. Really love you too, you know.”

You can’t explain the noise you make at that, gripping your phone a bit tighter, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. This was real. All the anxiety fueled doubts couldn’t come close to the reality. He was yours. You were his.

“I miss you.” you say, the words barely scratching the surface of all you want to say to him.

“Ah, now she says it -”

“Oh my god -”

“Couldn’t be bothered earlier but she hears three little words and suddenly –”

“I’m actually going to kill you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t.” you agree. “Turns out I’m not so keen on doing life without you.”

“Me either,” he says softly.

You sit there in silence, a small grin on your face, as your fingers scratch the pillow on your lap.

“Can I ask how things are going over there? Or would you rather wait?”

“No y’ can, it’s –” There’s a loud crashing sound on his end, followed by laughter. “Shit - hang on.”

“Are you with people right now? You didn’t have to -”

“Wanted to.” he says, not even entertaining your argument for a second. “‘S just Tom and Tyler. Came out a few days ago to write with me. Was writing a bit like mad on my own. Turns out I had quite the inspirational weekend a month ago.”

“I mean you did experience about every emotion on the spectrum.”

“Nah, think it was just being with you.”

“Oh yeah? Writing songs about me?”

“Mmm, wouldn’t be the first time.” he says, your mouth dropping open in shock. “Got lots of lines written about those eyes of yours…the way you get a little dimple when you’re smiling really hard, the look on your face when you tell me you love me…”

He pauses, inhaling deeply, his voice coming out like gravel when he says the next bit:

“How you feel wrapped around me.”

Your mouth goes completely dry, hands tightening on the pillow, heart racing.

“How you look when you’re about to –”

“Gonna cut you off before we get in trouble.” you say shakily.

“Don’t mind a bit of trouble, me.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar. But feel like that would absolutely fracture the rules of the pause.”

“Fuck the pause. Throw the pause in the bin –”

“I should let you go back to your friends.”

“I’ll get new friends.”

“Harry!” you say with a laugh, hearing him chuckle on the other end. “I’ll see slash talk to you in like 3 weeks yeah?

“Okay,” he grumbles. “But y’ can call me any time before then, if you need.”

“Appreciate that. You can too. Going to try to get through these next few weeks on my own, though.” He hums in response. “Aaaand pause resumed.”

“You’re so stupid.” he says laughing. “Talk to you in three weeks, baby.”

“Didn’t mean to cut you off I just … I’ve dreamt about our reunion sex so much the last place I want to have it is over the phone.” you say, hearing him splutter on the other end. “See you in three weeks love you bye.”

He practically squawks in protest as you giggle and hang up, feeling ages better than you had before you called him. You’ve never had that before in a relationship. You feel lighter, freer. And loved.

Your phone buzzes with a text.

That was just mean.

Love you. Just 3 weeks xxx

Yeah, you were loved.

—-

You were absolutely about to jump out of your skin, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning as you woke up hours before your first alarm. You grabbed your phone, immediately reading over the flight details he had sent you a few days earlier with several “xxxxx” in tow.

Today. He was coming back to you today. Holy shit.

You had taken a far healthier approach this past month, letting the bad feelings happen instead of trying to ignore them with distractions, getting back in touch with your therapist to explore those fears of letting yourself be fully seen, and being Roxy’s ultimate wingwoman, though she did see right through you when you kept encouraging her to see that guy from the bar again tonight. What you were calling being a supportive friend, she was calling a blatant attempt to not get cockblocked. Tomato, tomahto.

You had been sleeping better, feeling better and were more than ready to see Harry again. It was nerve wracking, heading into this new chapter, knowing there were no planned pauses, no other people entering the chat, it was just going to be you and him. After all this time. Holy. Shit.

You were cleaning your living room for the umpteenth time, still having a few hours to go before Harry’s plane was supposed to land and there was a knock on your door. Roxy had just left, swearing she would not return, flying out the door with a tight squeeze and kiss on your cheek.

“Forgot your keys again —?” you say, swinging the door open and absolutely stopping in your tracks. There he was. After two months. Right in front of you. You could cry. You might cry.

“Thought you were Roxy.”

“‘S it okay that I’m not?”

“Jury’s still out.” you say breathlessly as he snorts. “You’re early.”

“Changed my flight. Couldn’t wait.” he says with a glint in his eye. You quickly scan him, noting the deep tan, the longer strands of curls falling out of his hat, the sweatshirt and joggers combo that makes you want to eat him, the facial hair. Hold on.

“You’ve got facial hair.” you say, rather stupidly, as he tilts his head back in laughter.

“Yeah I do.”

“Like a proper beard. You’ve never been able to grow facial hair.”

“Times are changing, babe. You gonna let me in anytime soon or keep staring at me?”

“Gonna keep staring for a bit, I think.”

“Get the fuck over here.” he says, practically plowing you over as he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, all but carrying you into the flat as the door closes behind him. You wrap your arms around him, knocking off his hat in the process, and hold on tight. He’s murmuring something into your hair but you’re not paying attention, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his body against yours, his arms holding you close, his new beard scratching against your cheek.

You stand there, holding so tight, feeling like you’re taking the first real breath you’ve taken in months, a part of you setting into place. You’ve got no idea how long you stand there and don’t care, refusing to let go even for a moment.

You pull your head back slightly, bringing your hands up to his face, fingers scratching at the beard.

“Not gonna get over this.”

“You like it?”

“Looks good. Really good. You look good.” you say, your hands coming down to rest on his chest, playing with the strings of his hoodie.

“Yeah?” he says, his eyes scanning down your body. “So do you.”

You lock eyes, staring at each other for a moment, smiles fighting their way onto your faces.

“Hi.”

“Missed you.”

“Me too.” he says, nudging his nose against your cheek before planting a kiss there, inhaling deeply. Eyes flicking up to yours before his gaze falls to your lips, he licks his own before leaning in, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in two months.

Yes.

It’s like coming home, like the first day of spring after a long cold winter, a lemonade on a hot summer day. You practically melt into him, his hands coming up to cup your face as he presses another tender kiss to your mouth. He’s holding you so delicately, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek like you’re made of glass. You’ve never been kissed like this. You grip his sweatshirt, pulling him closer to you, not wanting even a centimeter of space between you. He sighs into your mouth, pressing another sweet kiss against your lips before pulling away, never straying too far as he kisses your jaw, your temple, your hairline before ducking in and placing another soft kiss on your lips.

He pulls back slightly, his arms dropping to wrap around your waist once more, looking down at you with a small smile on his face.

“Missed that.” he says, pressing his lips to yours before dragging them down your jaw, nuzzling into your neck, tightening his grip around you. “Missed you so much, baby.”

“Can’t believe you’re here. In my flat. Kissing me.” you say, as he hums, planting a kiss on your neck before pulling back to look at you, soft eyes grazing over your features as a grin grows on your face. “You’re kissing me in my flat.”

“Planning on doing a whole lot more in this flat if you let me.” he says.

“Yeah, I’m counting on it.” you say, as his grip on your waist tightens. “Just mean like…so much of Italy felt like a fever dream. But you’re here. This is real. It’s… overwhelming.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“In the best way.” you say, emotion clogging your throat as you look back at him, the way he’s softly staring back at you. You’d feel silly getting this emotional about something so mundane, but it felt monumental. This wasn’t a special occasion, spur of the moment fling. This was who you’d get to see after a long day of work, who you’d go grocery shopping with, spend your weekends with, clean the bathroom with. He was your person. Even in your wildest teenage fantasies you could never imagine it feeling like this. Like home. Tears spring to your eyes, as he gently brings his thumb up to wipe them away, emotion clouding over his own features.

“I just - I got so excited at the idea of doing laundry with you. Like the mundane, everyday, kissing in my flat stuff. Running errands, doing chores...”

“Just wait until we load the dishwasher together,” he says, kissing your cheek. “Get the groceries…”

“You’re gonna rile me up.” you say as he huffs a laugh against your skin, before pulling back to look at you, his own eyes glassy, lips quirking up in a small smile.

“I’m so ready for it. All of it. I’ve never…” he says, taking a deep breath, glimmering eyes never straying from your face. “Never been more ready for anything in my life, I don’t think. Life with you, ‘s the dream.”

You stand there, letting his words wash over you, warmth flowing through you in waves as you bite your lip and try in vain to blink back tears, not sure you could ever find the words to articulate how you feel right now. You open your mouth and promptly close it, not even sure where to begin.

“Got y’ speechless, have I?” he asks with a soft smile.

You shake your head, trying in vain to bite down your smile, before leaning up and kissing him, hoping every drag of your lips can begin to express what words are failing to. He hums into the kiss as you slide your hands into his hair, bringing one arm up to wrap around your upper back, holding you as close as possible.

He kisses you slowly, gently, the exact way you want to be kissed, his tongue sweeping over yours in smooth passes. You sigh into his mouth as his hold tightens and you’re content to stay there forever, wrapped up in his arms, being taken apart with every soft drag of his lips.

“For me too.” you frantically mumble in between kisses, hands grasping tighter. “It’s –”

“I know, baby. I know.” he says, his hand coming up to settle around the back of your neck, tightening his grip as he pulls you in. “Come here.”

Time passes but you’re not aware of it, too caught up in the feel of his body against yours, the grip of his hands, the curl of his tongue. He eventually pulls away with a gentle suck to your bottom lip, kissing a line across your jaw before burying his head into your neck.

You stand there, breathing each other in, holding on to each other, your brain trying to process the fact that the person you always dreamed would be yours is, in fact, yours. And wants you back just as much. It makes you tighten your hold, your breath catching in your throat as his hand starts to rub soothing circles on your back, instinctively knowing what you need without you ever saying it.

“How was your flight?” you mumble against his shoulder. He huffs a laugh against your skin, pressing a kiss on your jaw before pulling back, his hands sliding down your back to hold your waist.

“Was fine. Long. Just wanted to get here.” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Left all my stuff in the car. Just needed to see you.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Thought you might,” he says, kissing your temple, his thumbs drawing small circles on your hips.

“Probably should have our big chat about our feelings, yeah? Talk about our time apart…how we’ve grown as individuals…” you say as he hums against your skin. “You could sing me those songs you wrote about me…”

“Yeah that’s not happening.” he says, snorting out a laugh, grazing his finger against your cheek, his tone softening when he says: “Not yet.”

The look on his face makes your heart flutter, his whispered words combined with that smile of his making you weak at the knees. You could get lost in his eyes if you stand here too long but you have a mission. You were meant to be responsible.

“Talking.” you say and he smirks at you, amused by your absolute lack of eloquence. “We- we should talk.

“Right. Let’s talk, baby. Wanna hear what you’ve been up to.” he says, his eyes roaming over your body. “Because once I get you in bed, I’m not planning on letting you out of it.”

“Is that a promise?” you ask, your pulse skyrocketing as he licks his lips, eyes darkening as he nods, his grip on your waist tightening, making your brain go a bit hazy before you snap yourself out of it. “Responsible. We’re going to be responsible. I got snacks.”

You take a step away from him and try to turn towards your kitchen and out of his hold, though he doesn’t let you get very far, his arm winding over your shoulder and across your chest to pull you back against him.

“Harry. Snacks.”

“Wherever you go, I go, baby.” he says as you snort. You can feel his laughter on your neck as he plants a kiss on your jaw, his thumb rubbing along your shoulder before you start to move.

“Fancy a cuppa?” you ask, making your way over to the kitchen counter, doing your best to gather supplies with this oaf attached to your back.

“Please.”

“I went to that bakery you like and got those rank profiteroles you love.” you say, relaxing back into him. “The woman behind the counter was like ‘oh no one ever orders these, the owners will be so pleased and i was like ‘yeah, well my boyfriend’s obsessed with them -”

You immediately freeze. It’s the first time you’ve ever said it out loud, ever called him that, and by the way he stiffens against your back, barely breathing, you know he knows.

“Your who?” he whispers against your neck.

“You heard me.” you say quietly, hoping the low volume will hide the waver in your voice.

“Yeah, but I want to hear y’ say it again.” he says, hooking his chin over your shoulder, squeezing your arm, you can hear the grin in his voice. “Who is obsessed with them?”

“Are you 12?”

“Baby.” he says, planting a kiss behind your ear. “Please. What did y’ call me?”

“My boyfriend.” you say softly. “I called you my boyfriend –”

He spins you in his hold, bringing his hands up to cup your face as he kisses you so thoroughly it makes your head spin. His tongue glides over yours smoothly as his thumb softly strokes your face. A man of multitudes. He pulls back slowly, planting one more chaste kiss to your mouth, his hands not leaving your face.

“Is that – “ you say, still trying to catch your breath. “Is that okay?”

His brow furrows in disbelief, not letting you move out of his grip. “Just told you a minute ago I wanna do life with you.”

“I know, but this is putting an official label on it. Which feels different. It feels right but it’s, like, official. For real..”

“Are y’ asking me to go steady with you?”

“Oh my god I don’t know why I even bother –”

“Hey, heeey. None of that.” he says with a laugh, pinning you to the counter with his hips while his lips kiss a pattern across your face before he gently bites at your cheek and pulls away.

He just looks at you, that soft, just for you smile on his face as he takes a deep breath, looking like he’s about to burst with the love radiating off of him. It’s contagious, making a wide grin spread on your face as you feel like you’re buzzing from the inside out.

“Let’s make it official, baby. ‘M your boyfriend. And you’re my girlfriend. And we’re…” he says, taking a deep breath, a small blink-and-you’ll-miss-it blush growing across his cheeks. “And we’re in a relationship. ”

You’re suddenly 15 again trying to slow your galloping heart rate any time Harry hugs you hello, you’re 18 trying not to stare too hard at your best mate’s bare chest as he does a cannonball into the ocean, you’re 22 trying to steady the shake in your hands as you cut his ponytail because he insisted you be the one to chop it, you’re 25 going on 26, in your kitchen, with your best mate who’s now your boyfriend. A fantasy you used to write about in your journal, used to cry yourself to sleep over.

If you could grin any wider, your face would split in half, heat rushing to your cheeks as you look up at him. The two of you standing there, big smiles on your faces, looking at each other in joy, in awe. It feels a bit juvenile to be getting so worked up over a label but you can’t help it. It’s different with him. Everything’s different with him.

Your face crumples slightly, overwhelmed by the love flowing through you, the love you’ve always felt for the man looking back at you.

“I know, I know.” he mutters, pulling you closer. “Long time coming, huh?”

“You could say that,” you whisper back as he wraps his arms around you, planting a kiss on your temple.

“Thank you for waiting for me to catch up.” he whispers, smiling down at you as butterflies erupt in your stomach, your heart feeling on the cusp of bursting.

You gently wind your arms around his neck, pushing your hand up into his hair as he closes his eyes briefly at the feeling of your nails against his scalp. He opens his eyes, those green irises focusing right on you, looking at you like you’re the only person on the planet, his expression so sincere it all but bowls you over.

“Would’ve waited my whole life for you, I think.”

You can see the words hit him as his eyes go glassy, blinking a few times while looking back at you. He lets out a sheepish laugh when you bring a hand up to gently wipe away the tears pooling in his eyes, biting his lip as he grins at you before planting a kiss on your palm. His index finger brushes down the side of your face gently as he looks at you in awe, in wonder and you feel like you’re on fire.

You’re not sure who closes the gap first but you know it doesn’t matter, clutching each other so tight that you feel his groan before you hear it as you swipe your tongue over his. He kisses you deeply, reverently, his tongue licking into your mouth in languid, all encompassing passes that make you feel like you’re going to explode. He pulls away slowly, kisses trailing down your neck as he takes his time licking and biting at the skin there.

“Do you -” you gasp out, sparks flying through you with each drag of his lips. “Would it be alright if we -”

“Being so polite. You trying ask me to tea or ask me to take y’ to bed?” he mumbles, mouth not straying far from its spot on your neck, laughing against your skin when you smack him.

“You know,” you say with a huff of frustration, “I’m usually quite good at this but but you’ve got me flustered -”

“Promise y’ you’re still good,” he mumbles, kissing his way across your throat and taking his time on the other side, letting out a deep breath. “So good.”

“I just - I know I said we should talk but I -” you breathe out, the mindless patterns of his hands against your sides making it impossible to finish a sentence. The way he’s dragging his hands up and down, giving you an occasional squeeze. Those big hands. Jesus. “I want -”

“What do y’ want? Need you to tell me.”

“Want you.” you say as he bites down on your neck, hands squeezing you tight.

He groans, leaning his head against your collarbone, his palms clutching your hips.

“Do y’ have any idea what y’ do to me -” he grunts out. “Calling me up to say you’re needy, that you’ve dreamt of –”

He cuts himself off as he leans up, his lips claiming yours. This kiss is not like the others, it's deep from the start, as he licks into your mouth with a groan. His hands can’t seem to find a place to settle, roaming from your hips, your sides, your breasts, your arse. His breaths are ragged as he bites your lower lip before diving in for more, nothing gentle or sweet about the way he’s making you moan into his mouth, each drag of his tongue driving you mad.

“Bedroom,” he says, wrenching his mouth away from yours. “Let’s – bedroom. Unless you want your boyfriend to fuck you on the counter.”

You choke on air, your nails digging into the muscles on his shoulders.

“Need you horizontal c’mon baby -” he mutters, already pulling you back from the counter as you grab his hand and take off down the hallway towards your bedroom, faltering only slightly when you look back to see him lacing your hands together and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You both practically trip over yourselves in eagerness once your door is closed, laughing into each other’s mouths. His hands fall to your waist, sliding up your skin as he pulls your shirt up and over your head, mouths disconnecting before crashing together again. He kisses his way down your neck, making quick work of your bra as he kisses across your chest, mouth wrapping around your nipple as his hands slide further down, pausing at the waistband of your jeans. He pulls his head back to look at you, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Can I?” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you when you nod, hands slipping on your skin. “Sorry, my palms are sweaty.”

“Mine too,” you whisper as you both laugh sheepishly.

“We’ve done this bit before.”

“Yeah, but it still feels new. It always …everything feels new with you.”

He nods once, marveling at you for a second before pressing his lips to yours, sweet in contrast with the way his hand keeps inching closer to where you need him most. You fist his sweatshirt, pulling at it in frustration.

“Can we get this off please?” you huff, trying in vain to start to push it up when he simply won’t budge.

“Patience is a virtue, darling” he says, taking his sweet time unbuttoning your jeans as he kisses along your jaw, heat spreading through every ounce of your body and you want to kill him.

“Yeah but I’m practically naked while you’re fully dressed.”

“Cause I got my priorities straight,” he says, hands finally sliding past your waistband into your underwear, biting down on your lip when you gasp at his fingers pushing past your folds, feeling the wetness there. “Fuck, baby. Did I get y’ this wet?”

He kisses you before you can respond, licking hotly into your mouth as he pulls his hand away, shushing you when you whine. He uses both hands to pull your jeans and underwear off, helping you balance when you kick them to the ground.

“On the bed,” he mumbles, “need y’ on the bed.”

He walks you backwards until your legs hit the mattress and you lie back, pushing yourself up with your arms until you’re in the middle of the bed, propped up on your elbows, eyes never leaving his.

His eyes roam all over your body, jaw set as his intent gaze sweeps over you, making every inch of you feel like it’s burning up from the inside out. He reaches behind his head to pull his sweatshirt and t-shirt up and over in one fell swoop, throwing them to the ground before clamoring onto the bed as he kneels between your legs, jogger-clad thighs nudging yours further apart.

You barely have time to take in the expanse of skin before he’s ducking down to kiss you again, getting temporarily lost in the mind-numbing drag of his lips, the soft moans he lets out when you push your hand up into his hair and tug it every so often.

He pulls away slowly, eyes sweeping up and down your body as he puffs out a big breath and shakes his head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, pressing one more kiss to your lips before slowly making his way down your body, his tongue against your skin mixed with the deep timbre of his voice making you grip the bed sheets tighter, your breath coming in shorter bursts, hand falling away from his head as he makes his way down to your core.

“So sexy,” he mumbles, tongue sweeping along your stomach before he pauses to suck a mark into the skin. “All mine.”

A soft moan leaves your lips, his words and mouth against your skin proving to be a deadly combination, as arousal pools between your thighs. You shift on the sheets, deep desire flowing into restless anticipation.

“I know, baby, I know.” he says, kissing a line along your thigh, inching ever so close. “Gonna give y’ what y’ need.”

Your brain barely has time to catch up before his mouth is on you, humming as he licks a stripe up your slit, the sensation making you gasp. His hands slide up your legs to hold your hips down as he sucks your clit into his mouth, your eyes roll into the back of your head as heat sears through you.

He’s good at this and he knows it, eyes never wavering from your face as he watches the way you react to his tongue, moaning into you when your hand slides into his hair. You look down at him and almost come on the spot, the way his back muscles strain as he expertly moves his head, the image of him headfirst into you with his joggers still on doing something to you that you could never explain. Like he was so eager to get his mouth on you he didn’t stop to pull his sweats off. Fuck.

“Dreamt of this.” he mumbles, kissing a line up your stomach, your arousal already evident in that new 'stache of his. “Dreamt of you.”

“H-” you can’t do anything beyond moaning his name at this point, already gone past the point of coherence, using your hand in his hair to guide his head back down.

“Alright, needy girl, ‘m going” he says, kissing his way back down before biting down on the skin of your thigh, groaning out: “love you like this.”

He dives in tongue first, licking his way down to your entrance before dragging his tongue up to your clit, sucking it into his mouth in steady pulls. He’s getting sloppy with it, the feeling of his beard against your skin making you pull at his hair, while he kisses, licks and sucks. You’re so wet you can hear it, it would embarrass you if not for the way he clearly loves it, his eyes closed tight with his brow furrowed in concentration, nose nudging against your center as his tongue curls over you, grunting and groaning into you in a way that has you seeing stars.

“Want you to come like this. Want it in my mouth.” he mumbles, hooded eyes opening to look at you, take you in. “Can y’ do that for me?”

“Fuck - please I -” you’re cut off by your own moan, as he gets his mouth back on you. His hands on your hips no longer hold you down but encourage you to buck up into him. It’s overwhelming, heat searing through you and you can’t keep your eyes open, feeling yourself hurdle towards your orgasm with every slurp, lick, and suck. His grip tightens, nails making crescent marks into your skin as he latches onto your clit once more and sucks, hard.

And that’s it, your eyes roll back in your head as you come, so intense that you can’t hear the praise he’s mumbling, can feel nothing but endless heat, pleasure rolling through you, hand gripping his hair so tight as his mouth works you through your orgasm, only pulling away when you whimper from the overstimulation.

He plants one kiss against your core before kissing his way up your body, self-satisfied smirk on his face when his head hovers over yours, evidence of how hard you just came present in his beard. You look up at him, panting, sentences still jumbling in your brain as he settles next to you, laying a possessive hand on your stomach, thumb drawing mindless patterns on your skin.

“That good, huh?”

“Like you didn’t know.” you breathe out, thumb coming up to wipe his bottom lip, heat swirling through you when he grabs your wrist and sucks your thumb into his mouth, never once breaking eye contact.

“Christ.”

He hums, releasing your thumb with a pop before leaning in to kiss you, both of you moaning when your tongue swipes over his. Your hand drags down his chest, damp with sweat from the exertion of his efforts, and falls to the waistband of his joggers.

“I can’t believe you still have these on.” you say snapping the waistband against his abs as he moves to pull them off.

“Had you naked on your bed, time was of the essence,” he says, as you snort, watching as he successfully pulls his joggers and briefs all the way off and throws them on the ground, his hard cock slapping against his belly. Did he get that hard just from getting you off?

“Took your shirt off, though.” you say, voice wavering at how affected you are at the sight in front of you. This gorgeous man in all his naked glory.

“Yeah, well, I know how you feel about my arms. Wanted to give you a proper show.” he says with a shrug, hand sliding up your neck to grip at the nape, pulling you in for a deep kiss.

Your hand slides further down his abs, wrapping around him as he moans into your mouth. You pull away from him slowly, making full eye contact as you lick your palm, his eyes widening at the sight, before wrapping around him again. He moans, his grip on you tightening as he bites at your jaw.

“Got this hard from eating me out?”

“Y’ have no idea what you look like.” he says, pulling back to look at you, eyes roaming all over your face. “What you taste like.”

He captures your lips once more, breaths more ragged than before the more you play with him, your thumb swiping over the head as he bites your lip.

“Gotta stop -” he pants out. “Unless you don’t want -”

“No, I do.” you say, letting go of his cock in favor of straddling him. He sits up, trying to get close to your mouth but you shake your head and push him back down. He goes easily, eyes flickering all over your body, unable to settle on just one spot before looking back into your eyes, his own pupils blown wide.

“What’ve y’ got planned, love?”

“Wanna ride you.” you say, your hands staying planted on his chest.

“Fuck - yes please.” he groans, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “You have stuff?”

You falter. You do, you know exactly where it is but that’s not what you want tonight. You curse yourself, knowing you should’ve brought this up earlier, and not when you’re straddling him on your bed. The hesitation must be written on your face because he sits up quickly - damn those ab muscles - his hand coming up to cup your face, thumb rubbing on your cheek.

“What’s up? Do you not have any? Need me to pop to the -”

You shake your head. “Uh - no. I have stuff. I just - sorry I should have brought this up before -”

“‘S okay.” he says gently, patiently, as if you both can’t feel how hard he is against your thighs.

“I just - I got tested and I’m clean,” you say, his eyebrows shooting up before he schools his expression into something more neutral, though the sudden clamminess of his palm against your face gives him away. “And I’m on the pill. I have condoms and totally understand if that makes you more comfortable but I want this, with you. I want to feel –”

“Me too.” he says gruffly, a mix of emotions passing over his face as he stares back at you, so intently it makes your head spin. “I got tested a few weeks ago and I’m also clean - if you want that -”

“I do.”

He crushes his lips against yours, kissing you deeply as you clutch at his shoulders, giving it back just as good. His tongue passes over yours as he tightens his hold on your face, his other arm coming to wrap around your waist. You lose track of how long you stay there, kissing each other until your lips go numb, but he pulls back slowly, emotion clouding over his eyes as he looks at you, taking a few moments just to stare before he clears his throat.

“I know my reputation precedes me with this sort of thing-”

“That doesn’t matter to me.” you say, the look on his face making your heart clench. “At all.”

“I know I just - I want you to know that I don’t take this lightly. You trusting me like this. Me trusting you the same.” he says, with a shake of his head, looking at you with glassy eyes. “It’s - I haven’t done this very often and to get to do it with you is…”

“Yeah. For me, too.” you whisper, emotion caught in your throat, as the two of you just look at each other, biting down smiles.

You lean in to kiss him slowly, hands sliding up into his hair as he sighs into your mouth.

“I love you.” you say softly, the words almost getting caught in your throat as you look at him, hold him tight.

“Oh, angel.” he breathes out. “I love you too.”

You lean in at the same time, soft kisses slowly devolving into pure heat, tongues curling as you moan into each other’s mouths.

“Wanna make you feel good.” you mumble against his mouth.

“Yeah?” he says, kissing you once before kissing a line down your jaw. “Gonna take care of me?”

You nod, leaning in to slowly kiss at his neck as his hand slides down your body and rests on your thigh, squeezing once. You reach down to stroke him slowly as he groans, your tongue darting out to suck at the skin, leaving a mark in its wake.

You bring a hand down to balance on his shoulder as you line him up with your center, and slowly start to sink down, both of you moaning almost instantly at the sensation.

“Slow - baby, slow” he grits out, hands sliding up to your hips to hold on, to ease you down. Once you're fully seated, his hands come up to rub your back, his jaw set as he exhales through his nose, his eyes fluttering closed as he tries to maintain eye contact. “Shit.”

“Okay?” you whisper, not doing much better yourself, being able to feel all of him like this makes your mouth hang open, sparks of arousal shooting up your spine.

“Yeah,” he mutters, huffing out a laugh. “Feel so good.”

He brings one hand around to massage at your breast as the other slides down to knead your ass as he leans in to kiss you deeply, both groaning when your tongues meet. You slowly lift up and back down, a sharp grunt leaving his chest as you start to find your rhythm, his hands gripping tightly at your hips. You find your pace slowly, the look on his face guiding every twist, turn and bounce of your hips.

He’s usually talkative during sex, a never ending stream of praise falling from his lips but you seem to have stunned him into silence as he sits there, grasping you tightly, mouth never moving far from yours. For a while, the only noise in the room is the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans, grunts and groans mixing together as you find a delicious rhythm that has left you both speechless, panting against each other's mouths.

You lose all sense of time, getting lost in the look on his face, the way he swallows harshly, his breath coming out shallow when you swivel your hips just so. It’s sweltering, it’s heady, overwhelming. The two of you losing yourselves to the pleasure as you ride him into the mattress, his hooded eyes watching your every move.

“‘S like a dream.” he mumbles against your lips. “Jesus.”

He kisses at your neck, the sensation making you clench around him, as he groans and bites down. Your hand slips on his sweaty chest, overwhelmed at the sight of him, jaw set, teeth gritted, eyes wild. He looks wrecked in a way you’ve never seen him, eyes squeezing shut and a deep exhale leaving his lips at a particularly tight swivel of your hips. Knowing you did that, that you’re making him feel this way, causes a fire in your belly unlike you’ve ever experienced before. You place your hand on his cheek and he opens his eyes to look at you, the look of pure ecstasy making you moan his name as you lean in to kiss him, gasping into his mouth when his grip on your hips tightens and he plants his feet, starting to thrust up into you.

Your rhythm falters, having lost any sense of control as he takes over, each drive of his hips hitting you just right. His face now steeled in determination, brow furrowed as he expertly guides his hips into yours, the bliss from before replaced by desperate need.

“Fucking me so good, baby.” he mumbles. “Couldn’t do anything but sit here and take it - y’ feel so -.”

“H-”

“Does it feel good?” he grunts, “Fucking yourself on my cock?”

“‘M close I -” you gasp out, nails digging into his scalp at a particularly hard thrust.

“Need to feel you come around me.” he mumbles, kissing along your collarbone. “What’s gonna get y’ there?”

“Want you on top.” you say, your legs all but turned to jelly as you try to keep up with his relenting pace.

“Give y’ anything.” he groans, “Anything y’ need. Hold on.”

He slows down his hips, holding you in place on top of him as you wrap your arms around his neck. He slides his arms up your back, warm palm sliding up to grip the back of your neck as he holds you tightly to him, leaning forward to lay you back on the mattress, never once disconnecting himself from you. He hovers over you, both groaning at the new angle. He slides his other hand down your body, grabbing the outer edge of your thigh to wrap around his hip as you bring your other leg up to do the same.

He leans in to kiss you deeply, grip tightening on the back of your neck as he starts to slowly grind his hips. You gasp into his mouth as you drag your nails down his back, his grinds turning into slow, deep thrusts that have both of you moaning.

“Y’ so wet,” he groans out. “Can feel all of it. All for me. Christ -”

His pace picks up, thrusting so hard you can hear the bed frame against the wall at the other end. Your hand falls to the bed, grasping at the bedsheets as he keeps driving his hips into yours, mumbling incoherently against your cheek, the feeling of his abs sliding against your skin sending sparks through you. You can see how hard he’s working, arms and thighs bulging as he works to give it to you as good as he can.

He squeezes your neck once, before sliding his hand over to where yours is gripping the sheets, lacing your fingers together and holding tight and you just about lose your mind.

“Y’ close? Squeezing me like y’ close.”

“Harry -”

“Love when you say my name like that.” he mumbles and you do it again just to see the look on his face. You slide your hand not holding his down your body to flick at your clit, watching his eyes go impossibly darker as you clench down on him.

“That’s it. Be my good girl and go after it.” he grunts, thrusting even harder than before. “Want y’ to soak me.”

It only takes a few more tight circles from your fingers and one perfectly timed thrust and then you’re coming, stars in your eyes as you shake with aftershocks, clenching down so hard his rhythm falters, a series of expletives falling from his lips.

“So good. That’s it. Y’ gonna make me come - fuck”

“Please - want you to.” you say, trying in vain to catch your breath as you clench down on him once more, overstimulation be damned. “Come inside me.”

“Jesus - fuck” he grunts out, brows furrowed, eyes focused on you, hips driving into yours once, twice, and then that’s it, a guttural groan punches out of him as strings of his come paint your walls, the sensation making you squeeze his hand tightly as he shakes through it, a look of utter bliss on his face.

He buries his head into your neck, panting heavily. You slowly lower your legs down to the mattress, sliding your hand out from in between your bodies and threading it through his sweaty hair, scratching at his scalp as your heart rates start to slow down and sync up.

You lay there for a few moments, just breathing each other in. He grunts wordlessly into your neck, the sound making you laugh, feeling of your bodies shaking against each other setting the two of you off.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, kissing your neck as he squeezes your hand once before pulling away, planting his hands on the bed to pull out, murmuring apologies into your skin when you hiss at the feeling before plopping on the bed next to you.

You turn your head to face him as he props himself up on his elbow, an indescribable glow on his features as he smiles softly at you, his arm splaying across you to wrap around your waist.

“It’s a good look on you.”

“What?”

“Satisfaction.” you say with a grin. He honks out a laugh, pulling you closer to him to kiss your face.

“Ah, a bit cheeky after riding my brains out, are ya?” he asks, kissing a line down your neck. “After fucking me bare?”

“That’s me. Cheeky and full of your cum.” you say, giggling when he tightens his grip on your waist, his breath leaving him in one big exhale.

“Can’t say shit like that, baby.” he mutters against your neck, tongue darting out to lick at the skin. “Gonna turn me into a bloody neanderthal. C’mere.”

He slides his hand up your body to grip at your jaw, pulling you towards him as he captures your lips with his, letting out a soft moan into your mouth when your tongue passes over his.

“You’re unreal.” he murmurs against your mouth. “So good to me.”

He kisses you again, somehow deeper this time as you sigh into his mouth, his hand gripping you tighter as you slide your hand across his chest. He pulls away slowly, kissing your cheek and temple before leaning back to look at you, soft smile on his face as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

“And it was good for you, yeah?”

“Think you could feel that it was.”

“I could, yeah. Came pretty hard, didn’t you?” he says with a smirk. “Soaked me.”

“What was that you were saying earlier? About being a neanderthal?”

“Ah, so she can dish it out but can’t take it.”

“I can take it!” you scoff in indignation.

“Yeah, you can.” he all but growls, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Oh my god -” you say, trying in vain to suppress the giggles escaping you as he laughs along with you, wrapping his arm around your waist again, nuzzling into your neck as you try to catch your breath before you both crack up again, laughing at nothing and everything, at this feeling of lightness, of love, effervescent joy.

Your laughter slowly subsides, just the occasional giggle coming out as you smile at each other. He kisses your cheek, your jaw and presses one soft, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling back. You shift your hips a bit, the reality of the no condom situation leaking out of you and you grimace slightly as his eyes track the moment.

“Not exactly comfortable, is it?”

“Can’t say it is, no. Loved it when it happened but now - ”

“Yeah. Hang on a sec.” he smacks a kiss to your forehead before pushing himself up and off the bed and jogging out of the room, you try in vain to tilt your head back to follow his movement but can only go so far. You hear the sounds of the sink turning on and promptly shutting off, his shuffle footsteps re-entering the room as he hops back on the bed next to you, wet washcloth in hand.

“May I?” he asks, holding up the washcloth.

“Not exactly sexy, is it?”

“Yeah, but I put it there.” he says with a shrug as he crawls between your thighs. “Least I can do is help clean it out.”

“Thank you.” you whisper, affection flowing through you as you prop yourself up on your elbows, planting your feet on the mattress. He presses a kiss to your knee as he starts to clean you up. There's a lot to be said about praising men for doing the bare minimum, how women should have higher standards but this isn’t common practice, something you’ve usually had to do on your own, grabbing a spare t-shirt or something for a quick fix. And this, letting him take care of you like this, makes you feel open and trusting in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever felt. You’re not sure you’ve ever been this cared for, a thought that makes tears spring to your eyes.

You quickly blink them away though when he looks up at you, you know he sees them, a gentle shake of his head as if to say “it’s nothing”, as if to say “you’re welcome”, as if to say “i’ll always take care of you”. He throws the washcloth into the laundry bin and crawls back up your body to plank over you, leaning down to give you a sweet kiss. You bring your hand up into his hair, kissing him back before pulling away and nudging your nose against his.

“Do you want to shower with me?” you ask.

“Yes please.”

You head to the washroom hand in hand, exchanging lazy kisses in front of the shower as you wait for it to heat up before squeezing in and attempting to be productive. You manage to completely wash your body and get most of your hair when he pulls you against him with a hand on your hip, planting deadly kisses along your neck as his hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts, drawing circles on your belly before sliding down in between your thighs.

He waits until you’re ready and takes you right there, one hand splaying out across your stomach with the other is pressed against yours on the shower wall, his mouth pressed to your shoulder, hips driving into yours over and over with in a way that has you moaning out so loud you’re sure your neighbors can hear but you don’t care. Content to just lean back and lean into the pleasure until you’re both shaking with orgasms faster than you expected.

After snogging under the spray long after the hot water has run out, you get dried off and changed, throwing him an old pair of sweats and hoodie of his that you’ve kept all these years as you pass your phone back and forth to order from the local thai place you both love.

Once the food arrives you set up camp on the couch, laughing and reminiscing, though tactfully avoiding any discussion of the past two months, as you share plates, both eating more of what the other ordered than you’d ever admit. Once you’ve had your fill, the empty boxes stacked on the coffee table, you settle back on the couch, he grabs your feet and pulls them into his lap, resting a warm palm on your ankles as you lean back against the pillows.

“I really like this,” he says softly, a light squeeze on your ankle when you smile over at him. “Just like… everything about this day.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Nothing we’re running away from, nothing looming over our heads.” he says as you hum in agreement. “‘S all I could think about getting to these last few weeks and ‘s better than I imagined.”

“I know. Felt like it wasn’t gonna happen some days.”

“Yeah.” he says, looking down in his lap, small frown on his face. “Did it - y’never called me so I assumed but - how were the last few weeks for you? Better or just as shit as the first?”

“Better. Talking to you really helped and then I decided to, you know, actually feel my feelings instead of ignoring them? A novel concept.” you say, as he huffs out a laugh, attentive eyes on you. “Also started talking to my therapist again about, like all the guilt and weirdness from the wedding and my hesitation to be completely open and vulnerable with you, which is a bit of a work in progress.”

“Meant what I said on the phone, you know.” he says, hand sliding up to your calf, thumb moving soothing circles. “When I say I love you, I mean all of you. Nothing’s gonna scare me off or make me feel differently about you.”

You just look at him for a moment, his eyes full of warm, open affection staring back at you as you nod, biting your lip at the onset of emotions running through you. He squeezes your calf gently.

“Did your boss ever apologize?” he asks, frowning when you shake your head. “Wanker.”

You snort. “It’s alright. She’ll be groveling once the grant comes through. It’s not confirmed but have heard whispers that it’s likely going to us.”

“That’s my girl. Proud of you.”

“Thanks, H.” you say with a soft smile. “What about you? How has it been? Not gonna let you do that thing where you ask me loads of questions and be such a good listener that we never talk about you.”

“Ah, she knows my tricks.”

“Ah, yes she does.” you say as he laughs, looking down at his lap with a smile, thumb rubbing circles on your leg as he takes his time to find the words.

“It was…a lot. There was loads of bullshit in the first few weeks, meetings where I felt like I was back in the band again, all this talk about my image and how to best preserve it, not a lot about how I was doing or feeling.”

“That’s fucked.”

“Yeah. Didn’t feel good. It got better…once I drew my lines in the sand, established what was necessary for me to know and what wasn’t. Like if Erin’s team goes rogue and tries to talk about you or if anyone who was working the wedding comes forward - they can’t and they won’t.” he says quickly. “They signed some pretty ironclad NDAs.”

“Oh.” you say, not sure how to process that.

“Yeah. Now y’ know why I almost called you 8 times.” he says, pausing as a deep frown falls over his face. “I know I - last time we saw each other, I was angry and scared and snapped but…there was some truth to what I said. This bullshit never goes away with me. Not entirely. We can get good at tuning it out, but it’s always gonna be there. And I know it’s selfish of me to ask you to subject yourself -”

“Harry-”

“Just let me say this bit.” he says gently, cutting you off. “I know being with me has a price, however big or small you may think it is, it’s there. ‘nd I know you’ve experienced it as my friend but it’s…much different for who I’m dating, no matter how private we are. And I just want you to know that if it ever gets to be too much, I understand. I won’t hold it against you.”

“This is a legitimate fear of yours? That I’ll leave if the attention gets to be too much?”

“I know you don’t pay attention to any of it - it’s one of the things that makes me feel so lucky with all of this, that you really couldn’t give a shit about that. That you just love me for me. But… it can seep into every aspect of your life and force you to make sacrifices you never planned on making.”

“And I think a part of me is scared that ‘m not worth all that.” he says. “That I won’t be good enough to you or for you to make up for how difficult I may make parts of your life. You deserve privacy and normalcy in a way I can’t provide. At least not all of the time. And I just need you to know that you always have an out.”

You stare at him for a moment, the determined, slightly defeated look in his eyes before you sit up, pulling your legs off his lap and crossing them in front of you on the couch, knees bumping against his thigh. You take his hand, holding it between both of yours.

“And I just need you to know that I’m never going to use it.” you say, rushing to keep talking when he opens his mouth. “I know I don’t know the full extent of what your world can feel like, being involved in it in this new way, but I can say for sure it’s never going to make me want to give you up. Or like, run away when the scrutiny gets too intense. This isn’t conditional, for me. I’d do a lot worse and sacrifice a lot more to get to have you like this. We’re in this together. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to want to.”

He stares at you, blinking rapidly as he takes a deep breath, squeezing your hand.

“Thank you.” he says softly, brow furrowing as his lip twitches, trying to hold his emotions in. “I don’t take that lightly, you know. And you can change your mind at any -”

“I’m not going to. Not about that. Not about you. I don’t want you constantly worrying that if something goes wrong with your public life, I’m gonna go. I won’t. That’s not going to happen. Those are easy sacrifices to make.”

He closes the distance between you before you even realize what’s happening, kissing you deeply as his hand cups your jaw. He gently pulls his other hand from yours, bringing it up to frame your face, thumbs brushing over your cheek when you sigh into his mouth.

“Thank you.” he mumbles in between kisses. “Don’t know what I did to deserve…”

He shakes his head, eyes darting over your face before pressing his lips to yours once more, humming into the kiss. You just sit there and let yourself be kissed, head reeling from how good this all feels, how right, when he pulls back suddenly.

“I don’t want it to be just you giving things up or changing things for me.” he says sincerely, eyes not wavering from yours. “Like y’ said, we’re in this together. I want to make sacrifices for you, too. I want to be meeting you in the middle.”

“That’s really good to hear.” you say solemnly, taking a deep breath. “Because the paps surrounding the nonprofit world can be vultures.”

“Alright,” he says, rolling his eyes as he pinches your cheek before you swat his hand away. “Little jokester are ya?”

“It’s just so refreshing to finally be with someone willing to make those life changes for me.” you say, placing your hand on his shoulder.

Your sincere facade lasts all of two seconds, shrieking as his hands fall to your sides, trying to jab the most ticklish spots he’s learned over the years.

“The intense scrutiny that comes from being - ah! - with someone who sits at a desk for 8 hours writing proposals—”

“Are y' done?”

“I’ve got about 5 more minutes of material –”

He honks out a laugh, pulling you across his lap with minimal struggle from you lying you flat on your back on the other end of the couch as he plants his hands on either side of your head.

“Here I am, baring my soul… telling y’ my deepest fears,” he says one hand coming to tickle at your side as you try to dodge him. “And you’re just taking the piss -”

“Oh my god -”

“I’m afraid I’ll never be able to be vulnerable again…”

“Gonna nominate you for a BAFTA for this performance.”

“I’d like to thank the academy –”

“Alright, pal,” you laugh as you grab his wrist and pull, effectively knocking him off balance and he collapses onto you with a big “oof”, both of you giggling as you try to catch your breath.

“I can’t believe you tickled me.” you say, as he laughs against your neck.

“Ah, but in a battle of wits against you, darling, I’m guaranteed to lose. I needed backup.” he says, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “All hands on deck.”

You sputter out a laugh at that, warmth rushing through you as you look over at him, the wide grin on his face, the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs with you. It wasn’t even that funny, it was just so stupid, so him, said with such sincerity it makes your heart race. You can’t stop replaying his line delivery as another wave of laughter rolls through you.

“You are such an idiot.” you laugh, shaking your head at him.

“Yeah, might be.” he says with a shrug, eyes twinkling as he looks at you. “But I think I’d say just about anything to make y’ laugh like that.”

You can’t stop the smile that grows on your face, his words rendering you speechless, warmth blooming on your cheeks as the laughter all but dies in your throat when you take in the way he’s looking back at you.

“‘S my favorite sound.” he says, so softly it’s almost to himself as he leans in, eyes locked on your mouth before they drift up, smiling when you lock eyes. You lean up to close the distance between you, running your fingers through his hair as he hums into the kiss, his hand slowly sliding up and down your arm as your lips slide against each other. It’s soft, warm, reverential, this kiss.

You pull back slowly as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, pulling you back to him, mumbling “‘m not done yet” against your mouth.

He kisses you slowly, his hand a steady presence against your jaw as his lips drag against yours, smiling against your lips with you let out a little sigh, tilting his head to get the angle right. You’re practically melting against the couch, every kiss feeling better than the last.

He pulls away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back to look at you, warm eyes slowly passing over your features.

“That got ya to stop teasing me, didn’t it?” he says, leaning back in to plant kisses along your cheek.

“Mm, much more effective than tickling.”

“Mutually beneficial as well.” he says, laughing when you do before pulling back to grin at you.

You shake your head at him, a mumbled “idiot” leaving your lips though your smile detracts any potential sting of your words.

“Yours.” he murmurs, kissing you softly.

He presses a kiss to your cheek before scootching down the couch a little, getting comfortable as he lays his head on your chest, arms wrapping around you as his legs intertwine with yours. Your hand comes up to play with his hair, scratching at his scalp as he hums.

“This couch is kinda small for those long legs of yours.”

“Nah, I like it.” he says, wiggling his hips for emphasis, making you snort. “‘S cozy. ”

“It’s nice, innit?” you say, as he hums, hand squeezing your waist.

You lay there for a bit, playing with his hair in comfortable silence. It’s so nice, being with him like this, two of you able to just enjoy each other's company, having each other close after all this time. You don’t want to disturb the peace, but curiosity is gnawing at you.

“Could you tell me more about what you’ve been up to?” you ask softly. “Gonna depress me if I keep thinking about you being stuck in those bloody meetings. Did it ever ease up or am I going to have to beat someone up?”

“Defending my honor, are ya?”

“Always.”

“My girl.” he says with a grin, before taking a deep breath, squinting off into space as he thinks through his next words. “It definitely got better… especially when Jeff and Sadie took over that side of things, knowing to only contact me if things got bad, which they didn’t. Let me deal with the aftermath of the wedding and breakup like a human ‘nd not a machine.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, was nice to finally realize that I - I can’t be everything to everyone all the time. To, like release that standard I always held myself to felt really good.” he says, the look on his face making your heart clench. “Was able to really think about what I want and who I want to be for the first time in ages.”

“That's what you deserve, you know.” you say softly. “A life lived for you and not for anyone else. It’s what you’ve always deserved.”

You can see the emotion pass over his face as he clears his throat, propping himself up on an elbow and leaning back against the couch cushions to get a good look at your face. He takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.

“Thanks, baby.” he says, taking a deep breath as he runs his thumb over your knuckles. “Was good to finally have the time to realize that. To start to figure out how to do that… I didn’t have to work at all - I had taken that time off for the wedding and um, honeymoon and haven’t had that much time off in about a decade - to just like be with myself for any amount of time longer than a couple of hours was a bit of a mindfuck. Lasted about a week before I called Tom up.” he says with a sheepish laugh, leaning into your hand when you run it through his hair.

“Some things never change.” you say as he hums in agreement, before his brow furrows as he thinks through what he’s going to say next.

“I just - I spent my time working on myself in a way I’ve never had time to do before. Working on being a better friend, going to therapy to really unpack everything I’ve been through. Was definitely scary and challenging in a way I hadn’t expected, to face the truth of everything and really reflect on the past year I had, all the things I’d been running from. Got more in touch with myself than I have in years and it…” he pauses, looking up at you, eyes flitting over your features as he inhales deeply through his nose.

“It made me so grateful for the present moment and for the people I have in my life, my relationships with my family ‘nd friends ‘nd…you. Especially you. I really needed that time to get closure on a lot of things. Still a work in progress, like y’ said, but it was a good start. Made it easier to deal with the logistics stuff - like moving out of the place Erin and I had in Kensington.”

“Oh shit. How was that?”

“Was… okay.” he says. “Erin really wants nothing to do with me right now, which I understand, so it was mostly handled by our assistants, as mad as that sounds. So Joanna really did most of the work and I was able to stay out of it. Was weird but… it never felt like home, that place. None of that really did. Or it did for the beginning but stopped feeling like it far earlier than I was willing to admit.”

“So you haven’t talked with Erin at all?”

“No, not directly, just through our teams and stuff.” he says. “I would’ve loved to have a chat about everything but when she tried to go after you that changed things for me. But… I also know that what I did really hurt her and she doesn’t owe me her forgiveness or anything. I think how we’ve been doing things - just through our teams - is the best way for now.”

“Right. That makes sense”

“How’s all that been for you?” he asks. “I know it was rough for both of us to come to terms with, starting this relationship like that.”

“Yeah it … I don’t know, it’s definitely easier than it was. Think the amount of time that’s passed since that weekend really helped,” you say. “Like the nagging guilt that was there for that first month has mostly faded. Think I’ve gotten better at coming to terms with the fact that what’s done is done and I can’t change the past or rewrite our history. And now it doesn’t feel like a shadow over this, or something holding us back. It feels more like we can just be us. Which just feels… so good and right and ….”

You cut yourself off, nose scrunching as you try to hold your emotions in, his hand squeezing yours in encouragement.

“Feels like everything I’ve ever wanted.” you say softly, voice cracking with emotion as a wide smile grows across your face. He just looks at you, his own eyes filled with emotion as they graze over your features carefully, reverently.

“‘M coming over there.”

“Over where?! You are already on top of me -”

“Not all the way give me a mo -” he says, sliding over you until his head is right above yours, bringing one hand up to cup your face, open emotion on his face.

“I… I feel so ready to be in this with you ‘nd ‘m so grateful you chose me. Don’t really know what I did to deserve any of it but I … thank you for giving me that time and space and sticking with me through this.”

“H, I was never gonna go anywhere.”

“No, I know I just… Being with you feels different than anything I’ve never experienced before ‘nd I am just…” he cuts himself off, taking a shaky breath before shaking his head, leaning in to kiss you.

“Bloody in love with you.” he says against your mouth, diving in to capture your lips once more before you can even respond. His thumb brushes along your cheek as he drags his lips against your, kissing you reverently while holding you tight against him.

He pulls back slowly, his lips kissing a line up your face before resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, lightly panting against your mouth.

“Love you, too.” you whisper, the words hardly capturing how this moment feels or how you feel about him. The love flowing through you stronger than you’ve ever felt it before. Heartbeats syncing up as you hold each other close. Finally.

“Alright, your turn.” he says after a while, settling back down with his head on your chest.

“My turn? H, I already –”

“C’mon love I just talked for ages, ‘m sure you still got some stories for me.”

“Pressure is on, okay…oh !” you say, smiling at the eager look on his face as you start to tell him about a particularly wild night out you had with your mates a few weeks back, that almost ended with Jenna getting a few stitches at the A&E, living for how along for the ride he is, reacting at all the right spots. He’s always been your favorite person to tell stories to; no one listens with quite the same intensity as he does, no pay off feels better than shocking a laugh out of him.

You swap stories from there, him telling you the hijinks that him, Tom and Tyler got up to, his long phone calls he had with his mum, you tell him how you parents cried even when you gave them the bare minimum about what was going on with you two, how Roxy tackled you to the ground when she found out, how Archie threatened him. He starts to launch into a story about a very stoned writing session him and Tyler had and you’re listening, you swear you are…it’s just you hadn’t really slept very well last night and his voice is so soothing, his body so warm, you can feel the vibrations of his voice and you try to stay awake, you do, but you can feel your eye drift shut…

“Falling asleep on me?” he asks, hand brushing through your hair as you quickly blink your eyes open.

“No, no I’m not -”

“Baby -”

“‘S just … you’re so warm and your voice is so nice.” your words were slurring a bit but you were too tired to fix it. “Just didn’t sleep a lot last night. Was too excited.”

“To see me?”

“Felt like Christmas.” you mumble, your exhaustion erasing any possible brain to mouth filter.

“Oh angel,” he says, kissing your forehead as his hands draw up and down your arms. “Want to go to bed?”

“Noo, want to stay right here. Keep talking, I’m listening..”

“Okay,” he says with a chuckle, “Hang on, then.”

He wraps one arm around you and plants the other on the couch, gently flipping the two of you over so you’re laying on his chest as he lays against the pillows. You sigh sleepily, nuzzling your head into his chest. He’s got one arm behind his head and the other brushing up and down your back. “‘S better, isn’t it?”

“Mmmf” you mumble, words failing you at this point, your attempt at being awake slipping through your fingers.

He kisses your forehead, picking up right where he left off in the story. You think. You could feel yourself start to nod off again, trying to shake yourself out of it but everything felt so comfortable, so right…

When you open your eyes, it’s morning. And you’re in bed. How did you…?

You slowly shift, trying to get more oriented to the day as you squint into the early light, looking over to see him sound asleep, stretched out next to you and - oh.

Hazy memories of last night fill your head, of him softly telling you to go back to sleep as he carried you - he carried you?! - from the couch to the bed, strong arms looped under your knees and back, holding you tight against his chest as his lips brushed against your hairline. Memories of him whispering “I love you” as he slid next to you in bed, memories of you grunting back at him, his soft laughter against your neck as he pulled you closer.

It makes you flush, warmth flowing through every fiber of your being. You quietly slip out from under the covers, careful not to wake him as you slip out of your room and into the washroom to quickly brush your teeth, heart fluttering as the memories from last night swirl around in your head. You head back to your room and lean against the doorframe for a moment, just watching him. The man you love, the boy you’ve always loved, asleep in your bed. Your boyfriend. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you bite down on the wide smile growing across your face. God, you love him. You really, really love him.

You pad over to the bed, quickly and quietly pulling off your joggers and tossing them on the floor. You slide a knee up and over the bed until you’re straddling him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Good morning,” you whisper and he snuffles sleepily, one arm instinctively coming up to wrap around your waist as he grunts. You stretch out so you’re laying on top of him, kissing a line up his neck, his arm sliding up to hold you close as he turns his head into the pillow, eyes still closed.

“H.” you whisper and he grunts and you laugh against his skin, kissing along his jaw. “Did you carry me to bed last night?”

He peeks one eye open at you, a faint blush blooming on his cheeks that makes your heart skip a beat, his hand coming up to rub his eyes as he shrugs.

“Yeah. You were dead to the world, love.”

“So you carried me?”

“Should’ve left you out there if I knew you were gonna tease me about it –”

“No no no” you say quickly, grabbing his face in both hands, as he blinks sleepily back at you, thumb brushing over his bottom lip, leaning in as you whisper: “Thank you.”

You kiss him softly, his hand around your back pulling you impossibly closer as you drag your lips against his. You’re murmuring thank yous, love yous in between kisses, feeling delirious with how much you want him. How much you need him. You rake your hands into his hair as you deepen the kiss, heat searing through you when he groans into your mouth.

“It's so crazy,” you say when you pull away, relishing the dazed look in his eyes, the way his gaze keeps falling back to your lips. “That you just look like this and it isn’t even the best thing about you.”

“Baby - “

“I’m serious, it's like… I fell in love with your heart and your mind and your stupid sense of humor and how patient you are, how kind,” you say, your fingers running through his hair, heart clenching when he leans into your touch. “And then you had to go and grow up like this with a six pack and these bloody arms and that face - it’s my favorite face. God, you’re maddening.”

You drag your hands down from his hair to his chest, resting on the muscles there, drawing mindless patterns, stomach twisting when his eyes darken. His hand slides up your back and rests on the back of your neck.

“C’mere.” his voice comes out as deep as gravel, pulling you towards him and kissing you hard. You feel overwhelmed with your love for him, each slide of his lips against yours making you dig your hands into his chest as you slowly rock your hips against his, consumed by need.

“What’s gotten into y’ this morning?” he pants out when you pull away, kissing along his neck down to his shoulders, tongue darting out to taste the skin.

“Woke up with you in my bed,” you say, lips dragging against his skin, your words reminiscent of his that first morning in Italy. “Looking this good. Driving me mental.”

“Yeah? Tell me.” he rasps out, hand sliding up into your hair as you start to kiss along his tattoos, stopping amongst your favorites to suck a mark into the skin. “Love hearing what I do t’ you.”

“Just keep remembering how it felt to be wrapped up in your arms yesterday,” you say, lips dragging across his skin. “Felt so nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm, but it’s… nothing compared to how it feels when you grab a hold of me with your hands.” you say, “Know it's archaic but something about you getting possessive gets me so hot.”

“Gets you wet, doesn’t it?” he rumbles out, his hands sliding up and down your body, squeezing at all the right places as you gasp against his skin. “‘S cause I like taking hold of what’s mine.”

You can’t help the moan that escapes you at that, rocking your hips down against his, feeling him get hard for you. His hands slide down to grab your ass, smirking at you when you lock eyes and you just want to wreck him.

“And your tattoos…thought they were so stupid at first,” you say, focusing back on the task at hand as he huffs a laugh, his hand sliding up into your hair and pulling as you bite down on a cluster on his arm, tongue smoothing over the skin. “And now…”

“Now?” he says, his breath coming in a bit more ragged, the audible effect you’re having on him making heat surge through you as you look up at him.

“Wanna get my mouth on all of them.”

A groan punches out of him as he pulls your head back up to his to kiss you deeply. It’s rough and messy from the start, his other hand sliding up your legs to your hips, encouraging their rolls against his. You moan into his mouth as his tongue sweeps over yours. You know you could get lost in this sensation, the way his breath stutters against your mouth when you grind your hips just so, how he pulls a bit harder on your hair when you kiss him deep, the feeling of his big, warm hands on you. But you’re a woman on a mission here.

You pull back slowly, kissing a line down his jaw, hands drawing mindless circles against his chest, feeling the way it’s warming under your touch, the way his heart is racing. You slide down his body, taking the sheet with you as your lips drag against his chest, taking your time to stop and suck a mark on each tattoo that adorns his chest, stopping when you get to the laurels on his hips, lips dancing against his skin as you wrap your hand around his cock, already halfway hard and waiting for you.

He inhales deeply the second your hand makes contact, a hissed “fuck” leaving his lips as you slide further down the bed, settling between his thighs, lips dragging from his hips to kiss a line up his cock. You look up at him as you pump your hand, taking in the flush crawling up his neck, the way his chest is heaving, how he bites at his lip, his hooded eyes never leaving your face.

You kiss the tip, tongue splaying out to take him into your mouth. His head slams back against the pillows, long neck straining as he inhales sharply through his nose. From this angle, you can see your handiwork, the bruises starting to bloom on his skin, proof that you were there. That he’s yours for the taking. The thought makes you moan around his cock as you suck more of him into your mouth, a trail of expletives leaving his mouth at the sensation as his arm falls over his eyes.

You pull off with a louder than intended slurp, keeping your eyes on him as you drag kisses up and down his length.

“Don’t you want to watch me?” you ask, as your tongue darts out to lick along his vein. A groan punches out of his chest as his arm falls to his side, other hand coming up to slide your hair away from your face and stays there, a steady presence on the back of your head, never pushing down, just holding tight.

“Fuck, baby” he grunts out. “Look so good -”

He cuts himself off with a moan as you take him in your mouth again, his blown eyes locking with yours, flitting down to your mouth and back again. You watch him watch you before you have to close your eyes, getting lost in the taste of him, the sounds he’s making, how he feels in your hands, your mouth. Heat sears through you and you can feel how wet you’re getting, just at having him like this, like putty in your hands, every flick of your tongue drawing a new sound out of him.

You keep one hand on him as you close your eyes, working him further down into your mouth, gagging slightly when he hits the back of your throat, his hand tightening in your hair as he grunts, tongue flicking along the vein running up the underside of his cock, other hand falling to gently cup his balls.

“Oh shit - angel, just like that -”

You open your eyes, blinking away the tears, taking him into the back of your throat again just to watch the way his face crumples, flush spreading across his cheeks as he looks back at you, eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them, chest heaving.

You pull off again, tongue flicking up and down his cock as you catch your breath, continuing to pump him as his head falls back to the pillow, mouth open as he pants for air.

“Can y’ get back on me, love? ‘M so close - gonna - yes.” he moans when you take him down once more, sucking hard and pumping your hand once and that’s all it takes for him to shoot off into your mouth, lips tightening as you swallow it down, feeling his eyes on you as you close your eyes and give one final suck, pulling off slowly.

You sit back on your heels, licking your lips before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You hear a soft groan and look up to see his eyes peeking at you from where he had thrown his arm over his head, his chest moving rapidly up and down as he tried to catch his breath. He looks wrecked, something that fills you with pride even as you absolutely ache for him. You shift a bit, able to feel yourself dripping through your underwear as you rub your hands up and down his legs.

“Y’ got me good. Fuck.” he says, making you snort. His arm falls to his side, eyes taking you in fully as he slowly gathers his bearings. “Where did that come from?”

You shrug, squeezing his thigh. “Missed you. Was a long two months”

“Gonna have me leaving more often if that’s how you welcome me home.”

“Noooo,” you say, crawling your way back up his body and planking over him, his dark eyes gazing up at you, the flush on his cheeks not yet faded. You did that. His hand comes up to brush your hair away from your face, his thumb dragging down your cheek. “Please don’t.”

“Not going anywhere, not gonna leave you again,” he says, muttering utter nonsense as he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down for a kiss, “C’mere.”

It’s rough and wet from the start, his tongue swiping over yours, moaning the second he can taste himself on your tongue.

“Fuck you’re so fit,” he says, pulling back to kiss any part of your face he could touch as he sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you sit in his lap. He grabs the hem of your shirt, shaking it in frustration, “Get this off.”

You reach down and pull your shirt off, his eyes immediately falling to your chest, hands sliding up your back as he kisses down your chest, one hand squeezing your breast while he sucks your other nipple into his mouth, biting down lightly when you moan. He switches sides, each drag of his tongue hurtling you towards the edge. You’ve been on fire since you first put your mouth on him, feeling closer to your high than ever.

“These too.” he says, hand sliding down to snap the waistband of your underwear, helping you lean back to pull them off, settling you back on his lap once they’re gone.

“Said you liked my tattoos, yeah?” he says, kissing a line down your neck, sucking at the skin as you nod. He pulls back to look at your face, leaning in to kiss you before biting your lip and pulling away, hands squeezing your arse. “Sit on my tiger, love.”

He shifts you onto his thigh, flexing the muscle, both of you moaning when you’re seated. You are soaked, moreso than you thought, and the feeling of his hairy thigh right against your dripping core sends heat down your spine. His hands fall to your hips, encouraging you to roll against him.

“Tha’s it. Ride my thigh, baby.” he says, one hand sliding down to grip at your ass as his lips fall to your neck. “Did y’ like having me in your mouth? Looked like y’ did…feels like y’ did.”

“H, I -” you gasped out, hands digging into his shoulders as you found your rhythm, each drag of your hips sending you closer to the edge. “‘M so wet -”

“Know y’ are, can feel it -” he groans, “Gonna make a mess on me?”

“Fucking - shit.” you moan, one hand sliding up into his hair and pulling at the strands as you grind down hard, stomach twisting as a wave of pleasure rolls through you.

“Feels good, yeah?” he mumbles against your skin, biting down when you gasp. “Y’ can push down a little harder, love - yeah tha’s it, baby. Go after it for me.”

Your mind is hazy, the movement of your hips getting sloppy as you get closer to the edge. You pulled his head up to yours, kissing him deeply, moaning into his mouth when both of his hands slid down to grip your bum, heat flowing through every part of your body as you pant against his lips.

“I’m close - I-”

“C’mon angel, come for me. Soak that tiger -”

“Fuck -” you moan, hands pulling on his hair as you come, feeling him groan against you as you rode out your high. You slump into him once you’re done, breathing heavily onto his neck. He shifts you so you’re sat fully in his lap, hands sliding up your back, rubbing soothing patterns as he kisses along your hairline, mumbling praise into your hair.

He kisses down the side of your face and you pull back to stare at him, both of you smiling when you lock eyes. He holds your chin in between his pointer finger and thumb, pulling you into him as he kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls kiss after kiss from you, the two of you getting lost in each other as you come back down to earth.

You pull back slowly, his lips drifting to your cheek, your temple, your nose, as he pulls his head back to look at you, soft smile on his face, light sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Love you,” you whisper.

“Love you so much,” he says, planting a kiss to the corner of your mouth, to your cheek before pulling away, emotion clouding over his face.

“Y’ missed a spot,” he says softly, eyes widening when you thumb at the corner of your mouth. “No - Jesus - i didn’t mean -”

He cuts himself off with a shake of his head, looking down at his lap before looking back at you, his expression almost unreadable. He seems nervous, though you’ve got no clue why. You slide a hand up into his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp while he gathers his thoughts.

“Meant with the um, tattoos.” he says, rubbing at his nose with his knuckle as he clears his throat. “Y’ missed one.”

“Pretty sure I got all of them.”

“Nah,” he says with a light shake of his head. “Got a new one.”

“What?!” you say, mouth dropping in shock, both hands immediately grabbing his arm, poring over the countless tattoos to see how you missed one. “Where? Oh shit - am I like, sat on it?”

“Nooo,” he says, laughter punching through his words, though his eyes remain focused on you, soft and full of love, you’re so busy trying to find the new tattoo you’re barely paying attention. “Other arm, love.”

“You barely have any on that arm - how did I miss it?” you say, already grabbing for that other arm, looking up at him when he doesn’t move it towards you.

“‘M mean, it’s quite small and a bit hidden -”

“Oh my god,” you say, swatting at his chest, “Let me see it!”

He slowly lifts his arm up and there, right on his inner bicep, is his new tattoo.

It’s like all the air got sucked out of the room, your eyes hardly believing what they’re seeing, your heart skipping a beat. It’s a single letter, just your first initial like the ones he has for his mum and sister but this one is different…the font is different. It’s - oh.

It’s in your handwriting.

“Know it’s not much -” he starts to say before you blindly cover his mouth with your hand, refusing to take your eyes off the tattoo for one second. He huffs a laugh against your palm, pressing a kiss to it and keeping his mouth shut. His eyes are burning holes in the side of your face but you can’t look away from his arm. From your initial on his arm. A permanent tattoo of your initial on his arm.

There’s no redness, no raised skin, so he must have had it for a while, a thought that sends butterflies through your stomach.

“When did you get this?”

“‘Bout a month ago. Two hours after you called me, give or take.” he says, and you look over at him, the open affection on his face knocking the wind out of you, tears pricking your eyes.

“Is that -” you say, swallowing heavily against the wave of emotion flowing through you, “That’s my handwriting, yeah?”

He nods. “From a birthday card y’ wrote me ages ago. Always loved how you signed your name.”

You just look at him and back at his arm, biting down on your lip. It’s not to say that any of this felt temporary, you had no doubts you were both in this for the long haul, there is just something about the permanence of a tattoo for you on his skin that is making your head whirl in the best possible way.

“D’ you like it?” he asks quietly and you pull your eyes away to face him once again, his thumb coming up to brush away the tears that start to fall from your eyes. “Are y’ crying because it’s ugly and y’ hate it?”

You shake your head, biting at your lip as any words you try to come up with to describe this feeling inside you feel utterly inadequate.

“Know it’s small but I wanted to have something just for me, that only I could see most of th’ time. To remind me of you, to have with me wherever I go.”

“On your skin. Forever.”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing a laugh. “Forever. After that conversation we had … think I’ve always been a bit scared of permanence, feeling trapped in something, always thinking of what else is out there. There’s none of that, with you. No fear. Just feel so bloody excited, to get to be with you and know and love you in this new way.”

“Me too.” you say, heart racing at the smile that grows on his face. “I love the tattoo.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, sliding one hand up into his hair, taking a deep breath, wanting to get this right. You have time to tell him how you feel now. There’s no looming party guests, nothing you’re hiding from, nothing you’re rushing to. It’s you and him, with all the time in the world.

“When I confessed my feelings the first time, felt like I rushed it a bit. Didn’t mean to say it out loud and just told you you’re my favorite person about eight times.”

“No complaints here,” he says, his shining eyes not once drifting away from yours.

“Yeah but I want to say more this time. You are my best friend and my favorite person.” you say, heart fluttering when he smiles so wide his dimple pops out. “And… I’ve spent most of my life loving you and thought I had a pretty good handle on what that felt like, what it meant to be utterly in love with you. But after these last few months… turns out I’ve been barely scratching the surface. I can’t believe the amount of love I feel for you - I’ve never felt like this with anyone before and to have it be with you…not sure there are words for it, really. I think you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You see the way your words hit him, tears clouding his eyes as he tightens his mouth in an attempt to hold it all in, looking at you in awe, in love. Nothing but love.

You lean in at the same time, mouths connecting in a sweet kiss, arms holding each other tight, as close as you can possibly be. In disbelief that you’re here, marveling at how far you’ve come from that courtyard, reveling in the feeling of his mouth on yours, his hands sliding over your skin. Thinking back to those two kids dancing together in the school gym, the two 22 year old best friends fighting in the pub for reasons you couldn’t decipher, stares lingering at his mum’s birthday years later for reasons you refused to admit.

The one who tried to be your first kiss when you were thirteen but got too nervous, who held you when your granddad died, who called you from across an ocean when the pressure got too much, who cried in the courtyard when you told him you loved him the night before his wedding, who knocked on your hotel room door at four in the morning to say, “‘m leaving and I want you to come with me.”, the one who made love to you in his bedroom in Italy, the one who held you in your tiny kitchen and made your relationship official, the one who has a tattoo for you on his arm, permanent. Yours. Yours. Yours.

You pull away slowly, wide smiles and tear tracks covering both of your faces, cheeks flushed and eyes full of love. He nudges his nose against yours, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back.

“You and me, yeah?” he whispers, arms holding you so carefully, strongly, tightly.

“Yeah,” you say, leaning in to kiss him again and again and again. “You and me.”

----

a/n: holy fucking shit can we believe it?! man how deeeply i appreciate all of you who have waited this long for this part, i worked on it for months and truly cant believe its here, lots of days felt like it was never going to come together. endless gratitude for everyone who reads and loves them like i do and was nagging me to keep working on it. there is still more of their story to tell that i wasnt possibly going to add on too this 20k saga so ill see u at the epilogue <3. never spent more time on a piece of writing in my life, pleease let me know what you think. ily ily ily.

taglist: @tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen,

#something old #something old part five #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #best friends to lovers #lol can we BELIEVE WE ARE HERE

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xx-thedarklord-xx · 8 months

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I’m swooning

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #swooning just like Draco #writing a small part for the next chapter #of my five seconds fic

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snek-panini · 7 months

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It is Monday, and Monday is for books. Look at these beautiful things! They took me five months to make. I tried so many new things in the process and I am extremely proud of them. This is a binding of @racketghost's amazing Good Omens fic Strange Moons (Hi. I hope it's ok I tagged you in this. Your fic has been one of my favorites since I found it in 2019.) The story is a series of short fics (and one long one) that really need no introduction from me. They're set throughout the 20th century, and they are beautiful and sensual and moody and you should definitely read them if you haven't already. This is the longest work I've bound so far, but I was fortunate that the word count on the shorter fics added up to almost exactly the length of the final, longest one, making them the perfect choice for a two-volume set. I tried very hard to get them to be an exact match, and they turned out even better than I pictured.

More pics under the cut! Two books means twice the pics, and all the stuff I tried here means it's a very long post, so be warned.

Individual images of the covers. The titles are done in silver htv over brown faux leather, edged in charcoal bookcloth. The graphics are the same on both, except for the title text, and they have the same image of the reaching hands on the back. All the art assets are from rawpixel, I just flipped and rotated some of them to make the back image.

The cover materials were an interesting challenge. I'd worked with both before and wanted to incorporate them both in the design, but after measuring and checking grain direction I found I didn't have enough of either of them to do a full book, or even a half bind. So they're actually made by affixing the faux leather to the book board, then layering strips of book cloth over the top. The corners are actually mitered at a 45-degree angle. Here's a close-up:

It's two long strips of cloth (spine and fore edge, not mitered) with two short strips (top and bottom, mitered) glued over the top. There was so much measuring, omg. I bought a new tool to make sure I got it right. Hilariously, I still didn't have enough leather and had to order another roll anyway. Also hilariously, I got the idea to do this after seeing an image of a leather-bound book made by a professional that appeared to have the same feature, i.e. multiple materials with an inset and mitered corners. Wow, I said, looking at a video thumbnail, I'm going to do that! So I did, even though I didn't watch the video. Much later, after I watched his tutorial, it was clear that the design was from leather dye and tooling, not the thing that I did at all. But I do like the effect, and now I know it's possible I think it'll be great for using up weird offcuts from making other covers.

Look, spines! With TITLES on them! And LITTLE RIDGES! Both firsts for me. I'm a little obsessed with them. The cricut has opened up entirely new worlds, though I suspect the little silver lines might have been easier to do with a foil pen (which I don't have) than they were with a heat press. I did them by making the cricut cut out several "=" symbols that were the same width as the spine. The raised bands are false bands; I made them by layering little pieces of chipboard on the spine stiffener, then molding the book cloth around them when I covered them. I was worried it wouldn't work, since this is usually done with leather and book cloth is apparently way less stretchy, but it worked fine. Probably because it's a small straight design, no curves or fancy bits. I'd layer the chipboard thicker next time so they stand up higher (this is 2 layers, I'd do 3 in future) but I'm delighted by how this turned out. They look so professional.

The endpapers on both books are a constellation print. I had a really hard time trying to find something to go with the typeset, and the only ones I liked were from an etsy seller who kept selling out of them. I got lucky eventually but it was one of many hassles that befell this project. I also made my own end bands using a tutorial from the Renegade Bindery discord. I had some issues and I didn't quite nail them but I think they're pretty good for a first time (ok, second time, the first one was on a practice text block, but my point stands). I had originally intended this to be a split boards binding, my first time trying that, but when I got the boards glued on I found that they were crooked. Really crooked. Completely misaligned. Much swearing followed this discovery. I ended up having to cut the boards free, cutting the mull and tapes in the process. The mull was easily replaced, but the parts of the tapes that are usually glued to the boards were a lost cause. I reused the boards, but flipped them so the edge with the cut tapes inside is at the fore edge so I could have a cleaner hinge. You can see in the last photo that the cover board is a little wider at the fore edge. On the plus side, there are no tapes to wrinkle my pretty endpapers and it combated the small bit of spine swell I had. On the downside, the hinge has less support and the only thing I learned was How Not To Make A Sewn Boards Binding.

I may have gone a little nuts with the images in this typeset. In my defense they look very pretty. In order, that's the title page, table of contents, section break image (same as the back cover, just tiny), chapter header and ender (each chapter has one on its first and last pages, they just look particularly cool when you can get a full page spread like this), and the image on the last page of the book (same as the cover image, almost). The cover image was also supposed to have little rays coming off its moon like this one does, but the lines proved too thin for the cricut and it ate them. I still like how it looks though. The prose in this story is really rich and I was in the mood for opulence when I did it. I have absolutely no regrets.

Here's a feature that's unique to this typeset. One of the chapters in the second volume has three alternating, interwoven timelines. I read them fine on Ao3 but had trouble following them when I formatted it for printing. Usually I'd use the section break image to denote when there's a scene skip but there are literally dozens in this chapter, like 40-60 breaks over the course of 10 or so pages, and it looked very busy with images in it. So I left them out, made the line skips single instead of double like they are elsewhere in the book, and I color-coded the text instead. One timeline is printed in black, one is dark gray, and one is dark blue. And it's a very surreal chapter, with the characters having some very confusing and conflicting emotions, so I feel like reading multicolored text when you're not expecting it (the rest of the book is all normal black and this bit is near the middle) sort of reflects that unbalanced feeling? I hope so anyway, because I love the way it looks so much.

I learned so many things in the course of making these. I'm absolutely doing all of them again. Part of the reason it took so long was that I wanted it to be perfect, or as near as I could get, and I had to take the time to solve all the puzzles it threw at me. But it stretched my creativity and ingenuity and I could not be more in love with the finished product.

#bookbinding #fanbinding #snek makes books #good omens #fic rec #this got super long #and considerably more journal-like than I planned #i guess when you work on something for five months it becomes part of you huh #there were more images too #i took so many photos of these

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kiwiana-writes · 3 months

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Okay, hear me out, an au in which Alex and Henry are supernatural beings who are at war with each other. Alex is hired to kill Henry and he would do so happily. Only it is all a ploy of Mary to incite a brutal war between the two clans and justify it. Happy ending,ofc

Please know that I audibly gasped reading this lmao

ONE: When Alex is hired, he doesn't tell June. He doesn't tell his parents. He does, however, tell Nora—he honestly doesn't know if he tells her so she'll support him or so she'll talk him out of it, but she doesn't do either. Instead, she quizzes him to within an inch of his life about who hired him (some random guy), what reason they gave (did they really need one? I mean, it's Henry), how did they get the money (who cares as long as they have it?)

TWO: The thing is. The thing. Is. Alex doesn't even believe in this whole fucking war. He's not stupid. All the propaganda he's been fed his whole life—the other side are being fed the same lies about them. He doesn't hate Henry for what he is. He hates Henry for who he is.

THREE: The first time he finds Henry alone, Alex has his dagger halfway out of his sheath when he realises that the grassy patch Henry is sitting on is, in fact, a grave. His father's grave. And... well. Some things are sacred.

FOUR: Nora finds him in the tavern, watching the way Henry laughs with the bartender, something ugly rolling through his stomach. She tells him that something about the way he was hired didn't sit right, she tells him she's been asking questions, she tells him...

FIVE: He tells Henry. Of course he tells Henry. He breaks Henry's heart and saves his life in the same breath.

[Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.]

#au five fun facts game #ask meme response #bareacts #the best part about games like this is I can fuck with things that sooooooo aren't my genre without having to commit to a whole fic lmao

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lambtotheslaughterr · 2 months

Text

Rise : Chapter Five

A Rafe Cameron Series

WC: 4.1k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER FOUR | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER SIX

35 days since the world ended

Twigs snapped under the weight of your boot. It was hot, humid; living next to a lake didn’t make it any easier but at least being able to cool off daily & wash was a perk. It’s been a month since you & your friends decided not to move north. Shortly after the decision was made, Bear & Rafe had departed on their own to go looking for a safe place to stay. They eventually found a sizeable lakeside home that fit you all perfectly. Sayyed & you stayed in a room on the bottom floor, Millie & Micah in what was once a teenage boy’s room on the second floor, Adrianna & Nuha in the master bedroom, Bear & Kai shared the basement with, & Rafe would switch between the couch in the living room to a tent he had set up in the bed of his truck.

Tension in the group slowly dissipated over the last months & soon enough everyone was working alongside one another greatly, even Sayyed & Rafe. It wasn’t known when help would come, if it ever would, so you all had a role to play until then. Adrianna was in charge of checking in with everyone every morning on their symptoms. She & Rafe were also in charge of teaching all of you how to handle the guns that Tobias had given you.

Millie & Nuha were happy to be stuck with the gardening & cooking, Micah & Kai would spend a lot of time out fishing on the lake or setting traps in the woods. There was plenty of non-perishable foods but those were mostly avoided in case there was a need to leave in a hurry from the house. Sayyed was often holed up in a spare room with a radio hoping to make contact with someone. And that left you, Rafe, & Bear as part of the venture group.

When roles were first getting tossed around, seeing who thrived where, Sayyed had been against you venturing out with Rafe to seek out help or goods for survival. He insisted that you had plenty to survive off of thanks to Tobias, but you had argued that the world was unpredictable now, it was better to have things & not need them rather than need them & not have them. Eventually he caved, but he always gave you a look of concern when you would leave in the morning.

On this particular day, Bear had stayed behind. He had a cough. Nothing crazy but Adrianna insisted he isolate in the small garage until his cough went away, so it was only you & Rafe out scavenging. You never went far from the house, but every day you would go just a little bit further. In the first week of staying at the house, you, Rafe, & Bear had cleared what you could from nearby lakeside homes around the lake. There were few houses, & they were much smaller than the ones you had been staying in. You gathered plenty of clothes, more non-perishable foods, & on good days—as Rafe would say—would find more protection like knives, guns, & ammo.

“Living in the south is a second amendment preacher’s dream.” Rafe joked when the three of you hit the jackpot.

A few of the others were wary about having so many guns. After all, you all had plenty already, but no one argued against them as they agreed it was better to have them then to let someone more violent & paranoid get the same idea. So, the guns & knives were hidden throughout the house, all in places where you all could access them easily if need be but also would be difficult to find to a stranger. Ultimately, everyone was happy.

So, life was okay. The world was still ended, but you all kept moving forward.

Another twig snapped underneath you, followed by one behind you. You glanced over your shoulder to see Rafe watching you as he followed behind.

“It’s too hot.” You commented, loathing how wet your skin was. It was midday, sometime in June you knew; the heat would only get worse, & having lived in the south your whole life didn’t make you as accepting of the humidity as one would think.

“You can say that again.” Rafe returned, his voice low.

Fortunately, you had found plenty of clothes that fit you perfectly, if not a little baggy. The outfit you wore today kept you cool enough, but left you exposed to any blood-sucking bugs. Today’s plan was to reach a small town eleven miles north of the house you lived in. Adrianna’s map in the office showed a lot of forestry which was okay with you & Rafe. You often chose to avoid the roads to avoid people. People couldn’t be trusted in this world anymore. So, you two would make the four hour trek together.

Of course, you could take one of the cars, but it was decided early on when settling into the house that the vehicles would be used for emergency only. Plus the sound of an engine drew unwanted attention.

“Fuck, how much longer?” Rafe groaned. You smiled to yourself, shaking your head, “You could’ve stayed behind, ya know.”

Rafe scoffed, “Yeah, right. Like I’m going to let you be out here by yourself.”

You rolled your eyes at that, “Micah would’ve traded you.”

“I’d rather it me.” Your heart hammered at his statement.

Since the world ended, since finding the lakeside house, Rafe had become more obvious in his draw towards you. You weren’t sure how to feel about it, honestly. You loved Rafe, he was one of your closest friends, but you didn’t know how to navigate this new development in your friendship. You surmised it to being that he was lonely & horny, craving some female attention, but he never acted this way towards the other women in the group. Fuck, he was sleeping with all sorts of girls back during school & always had the pick of the litter. But now that it was just you he seemed to be clinging to, it was clear that he would always choose to be by your side.

“Lets take a break.” You changed the subject, finding a small clearing to sit on a rock. You swung the backpack you were wearing around to your front, pulling out two waters & two apples. Rafe accepted the water you handed to him, sitting his butt down on the forest floor to chug it.

You drank yours slowly, wanting to ration it. Water was harder to come by. Of course, in the panic of the world going to shit, water had to of been the first thing people took with them. On top of that, on these scavenging trips, it wouldn’t be the first time that you had gotten lost & needed to sleep overnight somewhere so you didn’t want to drink all your water in one sitting in case it happened again.

Rafe wiped the sweat from his forehead with the cloth of his shirt, exposing his lower abdomen. You looked away, guilty.

It was moments like these, raw carnal ones, that you couldn’t deny your own minor attraction to Rafe. You, of course, blamed it on life meaning something new & nothing was guaranteed anymore. Sayyed & you still had sex but not nearly as much. Oftentimes you were too tired & feeling gross from a days’ worth of walking. Thankfully, he never seemed miffed about it & was happy to just hold your hand as you two slept. But you were human. You craved sex just as much as the next human. It was just too bad that the next human was your good friend who had made it obvious that he wanted you, too.

But you wouldn’t. Couldn’t. It didn’t matter that this world was a different one from before, you still had your loyalty & morals to live by. And you would be damned if you’d break them for the man-whore of your friend group.

“So, how much further?” He asked.

Your backpack carried the essentials for your venture: food, water, two small sleeping bags, toilet paper, a flashlight, compass, a map of South Carolina you had gotten from a gas station, & of course, your own handgun. Fortunately, you had yet to need to use it & you hoped it stayed that way, but it made your long walks much more exhausting with the weight of it. Sometimes Rafe or Bear would trade with you since their backpacks were often empty meant for bringing back whatever you found, which was often heavier than yours, but if nothing of much use was found then they would do the gentlemanly thing & carry the backpack for you.

“We shouldn’t be too far now.” You told him, pointing out an estimate of where you two were on the map compared to the little town you were walking to.

“Thank fuck.” He sighed.

The two of you sat there for about ten more minutes, trying to cool off in the shade, but it was only late morning. The sun had yet to reach it’s highest point & the walk back would be even hotter. You were not looking forward to it.

“Want one?” You looked up to see Rafe offering you a cigarette.

“Nah, I’m good. If I smoke in this heat I’ll get nauseous then we won’t make any progress.”

“I wouldn’t mind another sleepover in the woods with you.” Rafe smirked as he lit the cigarette.

“Dude.” You laughed awkwardly, shaking your head, “Never gonna happen.”

“Never say never.” He quipped.

“You do know if I told Sayyed how much you flirt with me you two would be back on your bullshit, right?”

“But you won’t.” He said matter-of-factly, “That’ll ruin the whole group dynamic & you care a lot about that.”

You rolled your eyes, “You should, too. We’re a team. Surviving in this world without each other would be hard.”

Rafe shrugged his shoulders, “I think we’d be just fine.”

The conversation ended there. You didn’t want to entertain his thoughts, even if it was just banter.

“Right, well. You finish that, I’m gonna go pee.” Leaving Rafe to his vice, you walked a couple yards away out of sight. Very little urine came out, but you felt relieved at the same time, not realizing how sweaty your crotch was getting. After wiping & burying the toilet paper, you made your way back to Rafe.

“Ready, girl scout.” He asked, hiking up the backpack you had been carrying, leaving the empty one for you.

“Let’s get this over with. Millie is making a cold stew tonight & I’m already starving for it.”

The small town was abandoned. That had been expected. But it’d only been a month or so since the world ended & the few houses & buildings in the town seemed to be abandoned long before that. Majority of places were boarded up, so Rafe had to use a crowbar to remove the boards. There wasn’t a whole lot to find this time around. Rafe had secured some more ammo & another handgun while you were dead set on one thing: pads & tampons.

You had gotten your period a couple days back & it had been a nightmare. When the world ended, the last thing you thought about was feminine hygiene products. Nuha had a little to last you your heaviest day but after that it was a lot of toilet paper & layering underwear. You were determined to stock up plenty to last of you females the next couple periods.

Fortunately, you found two boxes of tampons in one house. It wasn’t a lot, but the others would be relieved until you could find more.

“Getting your period is a good sign, I bet.” Rafe had commented once you guys re-entered the woods to head back.

You tossed him a confused look, “Are you kidding? It’s the worst. Sucks.”

He nodded in agreement but shrugged, “Well if you don’t get your period then it means you’re pregnant. And since you & Sayyed still fuck—”

“Alright!” You held up your hands, giving him a glare, “That’s enough.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, I know, Rafe. I’m not stupid. I also took sex ed in high school. It’s nothing to concern yourself with. We’re safe.”

“So you two use condoms?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” You shook your head, not wanting to have this conversation.

“Sometimes?”

“Jesus, Rafe, c’mon. It’s none of your business.”

Rafe half-laughed at that, “I think if you have a baby it’ll become everyone’s business.”

“I’m not gonna have a baby!” You raised your voice, stopping in your steps to stare wide-eyed at him, “Besides, we barely have sex as it is so we’re gonna be fine. Just…stop.”

You walked ahead of him then, wanting to block him out for the time being. Thankfully, it was quiet for a short while as he followed behind you, but you could feel the energy between you too. Rafe had a constant curious smile on his face, you could see it in your peripheral. It drove you crazy.

“Oh, my god, just say what you want to say.” You stopped to glare, your lips pursed.

Rafe laughed, holding his hands up in defense, “I didn’t say anything.”

“But you want to,” You pointed out, “so get it over with.”

“Pssh.” Rafe cocked an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling. “I just remember you guys going at it like bunnies. You’re not very quiet.”

Humiliation flooded you, making you hotter than the summer heat. It was true. Your entire relationship with Sayyed, you two had had plenty of sex, all. The. Time. Mostly at the frat house, but you never knew the walls were so thin, after all, you never heard any of the other guys during their hook-ups.

“Kept me up a lot.” Rafe continued. “But I guess that explains why I sleep so peacefully now. Sayyed & _____ are not having sex.”

“Ugh.” You stomped off, “Just shut up. It’s none of your business.”

“Well, what’s the problem?” Rafe caught up to you, eager to get under your skin, “Sayyed not performing as well as before.”

“Rafe, quit.” You tried to ignore him, resentful that there was four hours ahead of you before you made it back to the house.

“I mean, it’s not surprising. He spends more time with the radio then he does with you, & he’s always been the more submissive one in your relationship so of course he’s not going to push you if you’re not wanting him.”

“Okay.” You stopped for a second time, turning to face him, “Let’s get one thing straight. I do want Sayyed, I will always want Sayyed. This has nothing to do with him. Our lack of sex has nothing to do with him & everything to do with me. Got it? Now, drop it. I’m not gonna talk about this with you.”

With that, you marched on ahead, uncaring if he rushed to follow you, but soon enough you heard his footfalls. The two of you remained quiet for the next hour, just focused on getting back. You would have been happy to not take a break, just push through & get there, but that was until Rafe hissed & cussed behind you.

“Ah, fuck!” He gritted. You spun around, suddenly alert. Rafe was holding his arm which was turning bright red.

“What the hell?” You rushed forward, grabbing his arm.

“I was looking for a switch & found poison ivy instead.” He bit his lip as you inspected his arm.

“Damnit, Rafe.” You shook your head, “I don’t think there’s anything in the pack for this.”

Rafe nodded, “I’ll be fine.”

“Just hold on.” You went behind him to search in the backpack for your water. Once you found it you poured some on his arm. “It’s not gonna fix it but should help keep it from burning for a little while.”

After pouring the water onto his reddened arm, you blew at the skin. You did this for a couple seconds when you felt Rafe’s eyes on you. Looking up, you realized how close his face was to yours. You backed away immediately, nodding at his arm, “We’ll do it again in a bit if it starts burning to a point where it’s uncomfortable.”

“Thanks.”

You said nothing, just mustered a smile, “Try not to touch any other plants, alright?”

“Aye aye, captain.”

The sun was still in the sky but low by the time you two made it back. Micah & Kai spotted you two first as you came out from the woods.

“Any luck?” Micah hollered from the lake, the water up to his calves.

Rafe walked towards them to talk & you headed towards the house, passing Nuha in the garden. In the kitchen, you found Millie.

“Hey!” She greeted with her infamous sunshine smile, “How was it today?”

You shrugged, throwing the backpack down on the counter, “Not much today but.” You reached into the bag, pulling out the box of tampons you found.

“Oh, thank god.” She breathed a sigh of relief, “I’ve been getting cramps so I’m going to start any day now.”

“They’re cardboard tampons.” You informed her & she made a sour face at that but nodded anyway, “Guess we can’t be picky.”

“Cold stew still the plan for tonight?” You questioned. It was your turn to make a sour face when Millie frowned, “Unfortunately, no. The generator in the shed busted for some reason so the cooler out there isn’t working now. So…just regular stew.”

As grateful as you were to have full, healthy meals in a world like this, you were looking forward to something cool to take the heat away.

“We’re just eating the fruits & veggies for now, so they don’t go bad & we’ll have the stew later tonight once it’s cooled down outside.”

You nodded, looking around the house, “Sayyed come out at all?”

Millie shook her head, “I wouldn’t know.”

“Alright, well thanks for dinner. I’ll be back.” You left Millie in the kitchen, heading down the hallway to where Sayyed spent most of his time. Before entering, you placed your ear against the door, listening. All you heard was the white noise from the radio.

You knocked gently first before entering. Sayyed wasn’t in the chair at the desk like he normally was. Across the small space you saw him passed out on a loveseat, an arm draped over his eyes.

“Hey.” You whispered, sitting beside him & rubbing his chest, “Sayyed.”

He groaned, inhaling sharply as he slowly woke up. When he peeled his eyes open, a small smile graced his features, “Hey, when’d you get back?”

“Just now.” You replied, “Any luck with the radio?”

Sayyed pressed his lips together, shaking his head. You didn’t know what to expect or hope for, but anything would be great at this point.

“Millie says the generator in the shed shit out.”

“Ah, damnit.” Sayyed sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “I’ll get to it.”

“It’s fine.” You reached out & stopped him, “It can wait.”

Sayyed leaned back on the couch, looking at you, his brows creased, “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, readjusting yourself.

“You just seem… off.”

You shook your head, dismissing him with a sigh, “Just tired. Long day.”

Sayyed nodded, seemingly unconvinced but didn’t push. He placed a hand on your knee, rubbing the exposed skin there, “I got an idea of how you can relax.”

His flirtatious tone made you smile, rolling your eyes at him, “I’m sure you do, stud.” You stood up though, watching his hand fall. “But I’m all sweaty. Later after I wash, okay?”

You could tell Sayyed looked defeated, but he faked a smile for your sake, “Yeah, of course. Guess I’ll get back to the radio.”

As he stood up, you hugged him, basking in his touch. He kissed the top of your head, hugging you back, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mhmm.” You looked up at him, vaguely recalling Rafe’s teasing in the woods, “I love you.”

Sayyed grinned at that, leaning down to kiss you, “You.”

After dinner, everyone was sitting on the deck overlooking the lake. The sun had set a couple hours ago but the sky wasn’t entirely dark yet. Since Millie & Nuha cooked, you offered to clean the dishes in a basin near the shed since running water no longer existed. You were almost finished drying the dishes off when a shadow appeared in the dim light from the lamp you carried.

“Fuck, you scared me.” You jumped back, seeing Rafe leaning against the shed as he watched you.

He had his eyebrows cocked, amused by your response, “Wanna hang for a sec?”

You knew what that meant. Drying off your hands on a hand towel, you glanced back at the house where most of your friends sat, enjoying a few beers & talking about nothing. It was a secret that Rafe still had a good amount of coke on him. No one else in the group participated much in the drug before the end of the world, so it was you & Rafe who snuck away to do a bump or two.

“Sure.” Following Rafe to the edge of the woods, he pulled out the familiar baggie.

“This isn’t gonna last forever.” You reminded him for the umpteenth time.

“Quit trying to be a party pooper.” Rafe gave you a coy look, “You used to be so much fun.”

“Shut up.” You backhanded his upper arm lightly, “I’m still fun.”

He brought his hand to your nose & you sniffed, enjoying the chalky & grainy feel of the drug as it filled your passage, “See?”

“Uh-huh.” Rafe smile, taking one for himself.

He leaned against a tree then, eyeing you in the dark. You bent your neck every which way, cracking the stiff bones there. When you finished, you looked at him, “What?”

“I could give you a massage.”

“Ha.” You responded sarcastically, not nearly high enough to flirt back, “Nice try. How’s your arm?”

Rafe peered down at his arm that was wrapped, “Adrianna put some ointment on it, said to leave it alone or I’ll irritate it further.”

“That’ll be hard for you.” You poked fun, “You’re just so naturally irritating.”

Rafe smirked at that, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. You watched as he slowly raked his eyes over you, pausing at your thighs briefly before meeting your scrutinizing gaze.

“Never,” You stepped forward, “going” you closed the distance, “to happen.”

His lips parted as you reached down for his hand that held the baggie.

“What do I get in return?” Rafe’s voice was low, full of want.

You gave him a shit-eating grin, “Not a damn thing.”

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?” Rafe shook his head but poured out another bump for you.

“Just giving you a taste of your own medicine.” You countered, happily snorting the white substance.

“I wouldn’t tease like that & you know it.” Rafe gripped your elbow lightly, just enough to keep you near him, “Let me show you.”

You damned the coke for making his touch feel like liquid fire, sending pleasurable tingles up your spine that sourced from where his skin touched yours. You turned your head up to meet his eyes in the dark. You could still make out the light blue of them behind his hooded lids. But you wouldn’t let your body or coke-riddled mind win. You pushed back from him, shaking your finger at him.

“In your dreams, Rafe.” You noted the mild look of annoyance on his face before turning your back on him to head towards the house, “Thanks for the goods, though, friend.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, _____.” Rafe called out behind you, “With the world ending & this shit getting low, I may start charging.”

You didn’t doubt he would, but you wouldn’t let him get the best of you.

You were almost to the deck of the house, ready to avoid the curious look of your friends, but just as you were rounding to the backside of the house, you saw all your friends standing up, looking at something in the distance.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, suddenly filled with concern. You were climbing the steps to see what they were seeing when Nuha pointed it out.

Following her line of sight, on the other side of the lake, somewhere within the trees was the first sign of human life you had seen in a month. Smoke.

another filler chapter before things start heating up. expect some dystopian, survival drama in the next chapter.

as always, please share your thoughts with me via commenting, reblogs with reviews, or talking to me through the ask box. any & support is seriously so appreciated.

thank you for reading!

beau<3

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Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

taglist: @jsrafesgirl @superbreadsoul

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #dark!rafe cameron #dark!fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #dark!fic #non con fic #dark!outer banks #rise part five

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