angywritesstuff

[angywritesstuff]

Kid?

Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader A/N: I haven’t watched X-Men since I was a child, so I can’t promise this is going to be canon-compliant. I haven’t watched DP & W either, I’ve just been influenced by that one gif where Hugh Jackman shakes his head like a dog. I feel FERAL Also, I am not good at superhero names or coming up with creative powers. So you’re a mutant with matter manipulation and they call you Flux. I mean, superhero names are inherently ridiculous so I think this works. (Don’t judge me, I’m just here for the sexy man) Summary: You walk in on Logan and Jean in a compromising position and feel your heart break. You really thought he loved you, you were so wrong. (Or were you?)

It was your own fault, you should have knocked before you busted through the door. You only have yourself to blame as you struggle to catch your breath and swallow down the lump in your throat. The image of Logan standing between Jean’s bare legs is going to haunt you for a while. Their faces will keep you awake at night, cringing at yourself while you remember the humiliating moment. 

You rush towards the door, a stupidly giddy skip to your step. You were a mutant, a superhuman, and getting a chance to talk to your crush should not have you giggling like a schoolgirl. Still, you’re blind to all logic when it comes to Logan. 

You turn the corner, spotting the medbay and nearly ramming into the door you know he’s lurking behind. Charles had told you where to find him. Of course, you hadn’t paid attention to the odd tone of voice when he had very clearly warned you to knock. All you’d heard was Logan’s name and you’d zoned out for the rest of the conversation. 

And, of course, you don’t knock. You grab the door’s handle and bust in, “Hey!” Your eyes widen and your stomach plummets with a depressing plop to the floor. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the way Jean and Logan are entangled in each other. He’s leaning over her, the muscles and veins in his neck pulsing with strain. Normally, that sight would have you nearly drooling. 

Instead, all you can see is the flush on Jean’s cheeks and the way her pupils are dilated with want. Her nails are digging into his back, bare legs twined around his waist. There’s no way to misinterpret this. No way for you to later assure yourself that this was all just a misunderstanding. 

The words stumble out of your mouth in a disjointed mess that even you can’t decipher. You stand there, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water before you finally get it together. “Charles,” you stutter out, his name sounding like a question. You wince and finally tear your gaze away from them. “Sorry,” you chuckle, trying to play off your hurt as humor. “Charles needs us all for a mission.”

You don’t give them a chance to respond, you slam the door closed, ignoring what you think might be someone calling your name. 

You shake off the mortifying memory and groan. Your head falls into your hands and you grip at your face until the pain distracts you from the embarrassment. It’s not too hard to push it all down, to pretend what happened didn’t make your heart crumble away into nothing.

Maybe it’s because you’re a mutant that you’re so used to rejection. You’re used to constantly being disappointed by people around you. Your childhood was nothing but cruelty, your crush not liking you back can’t compare to half of what you went through. 

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, to try and pretend it doesn’t hurt as much as it does. You shove it down until you think you can’t feel that dull ache anymore. And when Jean and Logan walk into the room, looking more put together, you smile at Logan like you always do. It doesn’t turn down at the corners, your eyes don’t water. You take in a deep breath and look utterly unaffected. 

He sits down beside you and leans towards you. “I can explain-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “Forget about it. I should have knocked.” You turn towards Charles who wheels himself to the front of the room. You dismiss Logan and ignore the way his stare burns into the side of your head. 

Charles looks to Jean and Logan, a smile starting. Then his gaze drifts towards you and your chest deflates when you see the look on his face. He knows, the old miser probably coasted over your thoughts and he knows. He sends you a sympathetic look that makes you feel like a little girl who just got told unicorns don’t exist. “Jean, Logan, glad that you’ve finally joined us.”

Logan nods and leans back in his chair. But his eyes remain fixed on you and it makes you wish you could stab a fork into them. You let out a short, irritated huff of air and frown at yourself. Maybe you were a little more angry than you would like to admit. 

You blame Logan for that. You never would have fallen so deep into infatuation if you hadn’t believed there was even a sliver of a chance with him. Always speaking so kindly with you when he would barely spare anyone a second glance. Constantly doing checkups on you after a particularly harsh training session with Charles. 

Your mind runs over all the small things with him, everything you’ve done together. And you’re hit with a sudden nauseating thought. Oh my god, what if he sees me paternally?

You force yourself not to physically react but inside your throwing up and fucking freaking out. You feel a sudden spark of alarm from Charles and quickly do your best to fortify your mind so he doesn’t see your major mental freakout. 

You’re not that much younger than him. Well, it’s not illegal, your crush on Logan. But what if this entire time, when you’ve been falling harder and harder for him, he’s just been platonically taking care of you? You’ve seen him do it plenty of times for the younger kids, as reluctant as he is to admit it. 

You’re spiraling further and further into panic. So much so that you have no idea what’s even being discussed or what’s going on. You get onto the jet and have to ask Storm what you’re doing. She gives you a confused look but tells you nonetheless. Just some recon on a potential mutant trafficking ring. Nothing out of the ordinary, as depressing as that is. There shouldn’t be much violence, which is why your group is particularly small today.

You nod your head, moving like you’re in a daze as you throw yourself onto a seat. Logan sits beside you, an alarmed look on his face. “You alright, kid?”

The nickname, which is used to make your stomach flutter, makes you want to throw up. How have you missed it for this long? It was laid out so plainly before you. Of course, he doesn’t want you. Not when he has perfect Jean. Bile rises in your throat with a vicious ferocity when you glare over at Jean. 

There’s a sudden petty, vindictive rage fueling you. The type you should have abandoned in high school, especially now that you’re grown. Instead, you feel like giving into Logan’s idea of what you are. You feel like reacting to all of this petulantly. 

You ignore Logan and instead catch Jean’s eyes. Slowly, and with as much intention as you can force into your gaze, you look from her to Logan and then Scott. Her eyes widen and Logan scoffs beside you. She shakes her head minutely, silently begging you not to say anything. You smile at her and stand up.

You take a step towards Scott and Logan calls out an irritated, “Kid.” You ignore him and Jean eyes you warily as you approach. She stands like she’s ready to fight you and take the jet down just to keep you quiet. You reach Scott and can hear the way Jean takes in a sharp breath. 

“Scott,” he looks up at you with his brows raised. There's a pause before you speak. Dragged on too long for Scott not to realize you’re planning something. 

Jean takes a step towards you and you grin, “Mind checking my cuffs?” Scott gives you an odd look and his confusion only gets worse as Jean slumps onto the seat beside him. She’s not even trying to hide her relief. Scott shakes his head and holds his hands out, fingers gently probing around the cuffs on your wrists. The ones that keep your powers in check. 

You’re still new to welding them. And they’re too entwined with your emotions for you to just have free range with them. If you hadn’t had the cuffs on this morning, you’re afraid you might have just turned everything around you into nothing but dust.

“They look fine, Flux.” His tone betrays his thoughts. He doesn’t know why you’d come to him for this when it’s Charles who usually deals with it. But this stupid, petty little display wasn’t for poor oblivious Scott. It was for the woman sitting next to him. The redhead whose still drilling holes into your skull. 

You’ve got leverage over her that you’ve never had before. Scott wouldn’t take her little foray with Logan very well. And all it would take is a flick of your wrist to give him a very clear image of exactly what you’d seen. Then, her picture-perfect relationship would be over in a matter of seconds. You’re sure Logan would be more than pleased. But he doesn’t seem to understand that Jean just wants to have fun with him, she’d never choose him over Scott. 

“Thanks,” there’s a bite to your tone that you’re not used to. You usually keep your emotions relatively in control. That way you won’t have to wear these cuffs one day. But you feel volatile today. You’re channeling your hurt and turning it into misguided anger. 

You drop your wrists to your sides and stalk toward the front, hovering behind Charle’s and Storm’s chairs so you don’t have to look at the others. It doesn’t take long for you to feel the floor trembling under heavy booted steps. 

Logan’s arms rest on the headrest of the chairs, bracketing you in between them so you can’t escape. He leans forward until his chest is pushed against yours and you can feel every ridge of his muscled torso pressing into you. You try not to suck in a breath, try not to play into the cliche of instantly forgetting why you’re angry when you’re faced with those muscles of his. It is hard, though, because he’s so handsome and so warm and you just want to melt into him. 

“Wanna explain what the hell that was?” His voice is so low, whispering against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. You feel the vibrations of it against your back, his tone more gravelly than it should be. 

You glance over your shoulder at him, face placid and blank. “What? Just needed some help.” Storm looks over at you both and rolls her eyes. 

Logan opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off. “Put a pin in the lover’s spat, we’re landing.” Using just a bit of your power, you push Logan off of you and head towards the back of the jet. There’s a slight jolt as you land and then the ramp opens up and you’re practically running into the snowy forest. 

You don’t know where you are, mainly because you weren’t paying attention, you just know it's fucking freezing. The leather of your suit isn’t doing much to help fight against the chill. Charles stays on the jet and reminds you all that this is only meant to be recon. You’re partnered up with Logan, and as much as it irritates you, you’re not stupid enough to argue against it.

You have to put aside your personal grievances for this mission. You can’t risk the safety of mutants because the guy you like likes another girl. Logan seems pleased about it, stubbornly staying by your side even when you make it clear you want space. 

You both linger behind the other’s as Storm leads you through the forest. Jean is being more touchy with Scott than normal. Either to assuage her own guilt or to rub it in Logan’s face, you’re not sure which. You nearly gag as you watch them whisper to one another, you glance over at Logan to see if he notices. 

You’re startled when you see him already staring at you. His lips tick up into something mischievous when he catches your eye. That smug smirk on his face as he leans in towards you. “Wanna tell me what’s got you so pissed off?”

You roll your eyes and tamp down the rising tide of anger. “Nothing,” you bite out, jaw clenching the longer you stare at the back of Jean’s head. You’re surprised you haven’t chipped a tooth with how hard you’re grinding your teeth together. 

He scoffs, not believing you for a second. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you an expectant stare. You can taste the words forming on your tongue, an irritating urge to just spill your guts overcoming you. Before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “I’m a little surprised that’s all.”

“Oh yeah, ‘bout what?” You hate how amused he sounds, the chuckle just lying in wait under his words. Like your anger is funny to him, like he didn’t just break your stupid fucking heart. 

You stop walking, not feeling as intimidating as you want while you shiver and huddle into yourself. He seems perfectly at ease in his leather jacket and beater, still refusing to wear the uniform. He leans back and looks at you with a fondness that you can’t tell if you love or hate. “You and little Miss Perfect.” You spit the nickname with enough venom to make both of your eyes widen. 

Logan rolls his eyes and takes a step towards you, again, Storm interrupts you both. “Guys, really?” Everyone turns around to stare and you will the heat in your face away. “Not the time,” she scolds and you brush past Logan to catch up with the others. 

You come upon a warehouse, it’s nearly camouflaged under all the snow. You see two guards waiting outside the metal doors and you all disperse behind the trees. Storm glances towards Jean who focuses on the guards. They drop to the floor and you wave your hands, their guns melting into puddles of metal. 

Logan and Scott move forward, sliding the large metal doors open. You wince at the loud screeching as the rust flakes off the sides. There’s a collective quiet as you all hold your breath, waiting for them to give the all-clear. Once they run inside and run back out, you and the others quickly get to your feet and rush into the warehouse. Logan closes the doors again as you make it inside. 

“No one here?” Storm checks. Scott shakes his head and you frown. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would there be guards if there was nothing inside?

Your question is, unfortunately, answered a minute later. You find a pile of metal crates stacked on top of each other. A large beige tarp covers them. You tug at the corner, letting the fabric slide off. Your eyes flutter with disappointment, “Guys! Over here,” mutants sit inside the crates. Each of them stares at you with varying degrees of mistrust and fear. 

As awful as it is, you’ve gotten used to these quiet depressing missions. There aren’t usually many mutants in one place. They don’t like to keep the product in one spot for too long. There are only four kids here. The youngest is eleven and the oldest is seventeen. There’s nothing physically telling about their abilities so you assume it must be psychic powers. 

They don’t want to come with you until you all give them a demonstration of your powers. Proving that you’re not just trapping them and taking them somewhere worse. You’re nearly out the door when Charles's voice rings loudly through all of your minds. 

You wince at the volume, hands coming up to grip at your hair as he shouts, “Behind you!” A gunshot rings out, something hot rips across your wrist and you gasp in pain. There’s a clatter of metal as your cuff drops to the ground, the bullet having destroyed it. Without them both, they’re useless. One won’t work without the other. 

You glance up at Logan, a panicked look on your face. You can already feel the tidal wave of power thrashing and building in your chest. It’s been so long with the safety net that you forgot how bad it gets without the cuffs. 

“We need to get you out of here!” He shouts over the gunfire. He herds the group behind a cluster of metal shipment boxes. It provides enough cover for you all to try and figure out an escape plan. 

You listen to the other’s worried voices, each of them trying to console the kids. You don’t know their powers yet. Don’t know what might go wrong if they get too scared and can’t control their abilities. 

You can’t speak, breaths coming short and fast as you clutch your wrist to your chest. You know it’s delusional, hoping that if you keep a tight grip like the cuff you might be able to control yourself. You can already feel the energy leaking out of you, the ends of everyone’s hair stands on end. The wall in front of you warps and cracks like it can’t decide if it’s liquid or solid. 

You grit your teeth and look only at Storm. “You need to get out,” you force the words out. It causes physical pain to try and keep everything at bay. You can feel pressure building in your forehead, pushing out until you think you might explode. 

“We’re not leaving you,” Logan snaps. There’s shouting going on behind you, a pause as they all reload their guns. 

“Wasn’t a question,” you grit out. You look towards Jean and there’s a moment where you both put aside your differences. You both know how stubborn he is, how much he’ll fight against leaving you behind. Regenerative powers or not, it's dangerous to even be close to your gift now. You can see them all straining against the ebbing flow of your powers. Their skin shifts unnaturally like you’re already altering the atoms of their being. 

This is why you’re only allowed to train with Charles and Jean. They can get in your head, shut it down when you can’t. You’re not sure you’re going to survive yourself. Logan glances between the two of you and practically growls at Jean, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare-”

His words trail off into an unintelligible slur as he slumps forward, Jean having knocked him out with her powers. Scott grabs him and grunts under the weight of his body. “I’ll cover you,” you gasp the words out. Anything but focusing on your powers causes physical strain that makes you feel like you’re being tugged in a hundred different directions. “Just get them out,” you nod towards the kids. 

Storm nods and you slip out of cover. It isn’t hard to push your powers in one direction, to solidify the air in front of you so the bullets ricochet harmlessly off. You listen to the whine of the metal door and wait for the others to be gone. 

“They’re in the jet,” Charles's voice rings out. “Don’t do this,” he warns. You can’t think of a response, you’re not even sure what you would say. You never thought you would be able to approach death this calmly, or that this would be how you die. It feels almost pathetic, dying because you lost control on a recon mission. 

At least those kids are safe. It’s not a bad reason to die. Just not great. You glance down at the other cuff on your right hand, the air around it fluctuates until it melts off your wrist like liquid metal. With the last barely there tether off your powers, you close your eyes and release the tidal wave. 

It feels like a dam exploding. It doesn’t leak fluidly from you, it rips through you like a hailstorm of knives. Tears apart anything in its path and rewrites the molecular build of everything in its path. Screams echo through the air as men’s bones turn into brittle dust and their hearts morph into something inorganic. You’re blind to everything around you, vision clouded by the horrific release of energy. 

You can feel warmth leaking down your face. Blood still pours from the wound on your wrist, and fresh blood from other wounds you can’t even feel. You don’t know when the screams stop, or when you’re finally drained. But you feel like an empty husk as you drop to the floor, your head bouncing harshly against the cement as everything goes black. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Logan says with a grin, glaring at Scott even though it’s Charles who is holding him back. He’s got a firm mental grasp on Logan, keeping him locked into place while he focuses on the warehouse. 

They’re waiting for the all-clear. The others know there’s always the possibility that they’re going to be collecting a body. But none of them are willing to say that, not with the look on Logan’s face. His muscles look ready to pop out of his skin with how much he’s fighting against Charles’s hold. 

Scott backs away from Logan with a scoff. He stands near Jean, but she can’t take her eyes off the restrained man. Nothing had happened this morning, Flux had seen to that. Interrupting them just as they’d started. Seeing the way he’s acting now, she’s starting to believe that nothing is ever going to happen. 

He’d looked like he was about to dismiss her when she started making a move. She can see the anger on his face, it seems he’s only ever pissed off. But underneath that, as much as he hides it, she can see the fear. He’s terrified that they're going to walk in there and you’re going to be dead. 

Jean can feel the fear of the others as well. They’ve only seen you lose control once and that had almost leveled the mansion. Charles had stopped you then, but the loss of the cuff had been so sudden Jean just barely had enough strength to keep the others blocked from your powers. She didn’t have enough time to shut you down. 

Jean, as much as she’s tried to deny it and dismiss her suspicions, can’t look Logan in the eye and ignore it anymore. It’s never been her that he’s wanted. The way he trails along beside you, always prodding and poking until you’re pissy and mouthing off. It’s not done because he finds antagonizing people fun, it's because he loves seeing you all worked up and passionate. He doesn’t view you through the same platonic lens he does the others. You’re something else to him, something she doesn’t want to name, afraid of the bitter taste it will leave on her tongue. 

Charles slumps back in his chair and Logan suddenly lunges forward. He looks a little surprised by the sudden freedom of movement, but before any of them can stop him he’s running out of the jet. “Logan,” Jean tries to call after him but he’s already a distant blur. 

Scott sighs and starts down the ramp. “Come on,” he mutters. He’s the last one who should be coming along. If anything is wrong with you, he’ll end up being Logan’s punching bag. Jean follows reluctantly, she’s not sure she wants to see what’s happened. 

Your powers are too similar in their volatile nature. The way they rule you and come so close to destroying you when you use them too much, is too familiar to Jean. She doesn’t want to see you lying dead on the floor and be reminded of her own mortality. But someone needs to make sure Logan is stuck on a leash. 

They reach where the warehouse should be. It’s nothing but a pile of rubble now. Throughout the wreckage, Jean can make out odd pools of liquid, some writhing, others still. She can only assume that these had been the men shooting at them. She doesn’t see your body, none of them do. But Logan isn’t giving up. 

He lifts different pieces of metal and tosses them off into the forest. Jean doesn’t sense your presence anywhere but she doesn’t have the heart to tell Logan to give up. After a few minutes of searching, she almost tells him to quit. But she can’t see him anymore. He’s disappeared somewhere behind a particularly large pile of roofing. A moment later, Logan stands up. His jacket is gone, wrapped around the body in his arms. None of them are close enough to see if you’re breathing. And he doesn’t say a word as he brushes past them, just keeps going back to the jet. Ororo, Scott, and Jean all share a silent look. None of them prepared for the potential fallout that’s going to happen after this. 

The first thing you feel is two familiar bands of metal around your wrists. The comforting feeling of the cuffs is enough to have you sinking further into the pillows surrounding you. Then you hear the beeping in your ear, feel the cool blow of AC, and become startlingly aware of the fact that you’re in a bed you don’t recognize. 

You groan, eyes peeling open painfully as your lashes get stuck on your skin. You reach up to rub at your face but your arms feel too weak to lift. You give up on the thought, instead staring up at the ceiling and waiting for your vision to refocus. 

A throat clears in front of you and you nearly jump out of your skin. Sitting at the end of your bed, arms crossed and a fierce glare on his face is Logan. His feet are propped up on the small table beside you. He quirks a brow and gives you a sardonic grin, “Finally awake, princess?”

Normally the name would have you up and doing somersaults, but there’s something distinctly negative and disappointed lacing his tone. It squashes any and all butterflies in your stomach. You grimace as you try and sit up. Logan is up in an instant, an annoyed look still on his face as he helps you up. 

You can’t help your dopey smile at how gentle his hands are on you. Even pissed off, he treats you so kindly. Maybe it’s the drugs relaxing you, or the fact that you almost died, but you can’t remember whatever made you mad at him. You can only feel the slide of his calloused hands against your arms, the way you shiver under his touch and crave more. 

He pulls the chair closer to you with a loud scratch of metal feet on the linoleum. You groan at the loud sound and he huffs, throwing himself down in the seat. “How do you feel?”

Your head sinks back against the wall and you finally realize you’re in the medbay. It’s why everything smells so sterile. “Like I got hit by a semi.”

He barely lets you finish your thought before he spits out, “What the fuck were you thinking?” He doesn’t ease you into this at all and you frown. You’re not sure why you would expect him to ever beat around the bush. That’s not his style, he’s always been blunt. Even when others wish he wouldn’t be. 

“What else was I supposed to do?” You ask, voice weak. Your throat feels like it’s been ripped apart. Idly, you wonder if you had been screaming in the warehouse or if this was just general strain from the whole ordeal. 

“Not put yourself at risk like that.” He leans forward, voice stern and bordering on shouting. You know he’s holding back. As much as he wants to lay into you right now, he’s stopping himself from going completely out of his mind. You appreciate it, but you almost wish he would just yell at you. You wish you had a reason to resent him, to finally get over him. “Not have Jean knock me out like that. You don’t get to make those decisions for me.”

It’s completely inappropriate and horrible timing, but you can’t help but scoff at the mention of Jean’s name. Can you not have one conversation that’s not tainted by the mention of the redhead?

Logan’s mouth snaps shut and he glares at you in disbelief. You squeeze your eyes shut, not willing to face him as embarrassment washes over you. No wonder he always calls you kid. You’re not exactly acting like an adult. You’re being a brat and for such a stupid reason too. 

Just because you like him doesn’t mean he has to reciprocate. You can’t just force your feelings on someone. “Logan,” you whisper his name, “Sorry. I’m sorry-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. Some of the anger, but not all, has ebbed from his expression. He almost looks like he’s smiling. “Jean? That’s what this is about? Jealous or something, sweetheart?”

You sputter, shocked little noises leaving you but no words. After a solid minute of restarting a sentence you don’t know how to end you finally land on a squeaky, “Who?” If you weren’t so mortified, you might have just thrown yourself out the window. Out of every cop-out you could have gone with you chose to just pretend you didn’t know who she was. Maybe you could make this work, like selective amnesia. 

Your shame only builds as Logan laughs. You cover your face and wish you could bury yourself six feet deep and never come up. You feel two rough hands wrap around your wrists, tugging your own away from your face. You don’t have the energy to fight back, so you keep your eyes on his chin. Too afraid to meet his gaze. 

“Come on,” he mutters, gently nudging your chin up until you’re forced to look at him. You're caught off guard by the look in his eyes. You recognize it, but you’d only ever seen it directed at Jean. It’s the same way you’ve always looked at him. Pure unguarded want and desire. 

The hand on your chin drifts back, fingers tangling in your hair and gently resting on your jaw. He tugs you forward until your lips are nearly touching, breaths mingling with every exhale. “Only ever wanted you, darlin'.’”

The kiss catches you off guard. It shouldn’t, deep down you knew it was coming, but the intensity behind it, the way you can practically taste how bad he wants this, wants you, catches you off guard. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting yourself melt into his hold. 

His free hand drifts to your waist and clutches the flimsy hospital gown until you hear it tear. You part your lips, deepening the kiss so you can finally taste him. It’s cigars and whiskey, something you should hate but is entirely intoxicating when he’s holding you so tightly. Fireworks are going off in your mind, sparks darting between your fingers as the cuffs struggle to contain all the energy suddenly pushing out of you. 

He can feel you holding back, squeezing you like it’s a promise he can take it. Take everything you throw at him. You let go as much as your cuffs will allow you. Let the energy blanket you both so you can’t hear your heart monitor going off like crazy. So you don’t feel anything other than each other. You think you’re going to devour each other like you’ll just keep kissing until neither of you can take it anymore. You don’t want to let go of him, don’t want to lose this moment. 

But you have to breathe. You don’t get to just keep living the way he does. You pull away from him slowly, every part of you dreading separating from him. His forehead drops against your own, his laughter playing along your lips as he finally hears the monitor going haywire. 

You groan, flicking your wrist and shutting it off so it can’t betray how flustered you are anymore. He gently nudges you aside so he can sit beside you on the bed. You don’t waste a second before you’re draping yourself across his chest and siphoning his warmth. He chuckles, arms coming up to wrap around you. 

“Can’t believe you were jealous of Jean.”

“Shut up,” you snipe. You look up at him and glare, “How else do you explain what you two were doing?”

He leans forward and gives you a smug grin. “She came onto me, sweetheart.” Your face screws up in distaste and jealousy. She’s going to need to learn to keep her hands to herself. He seems to feel the way you tense up, he huffs in amusement and rubs your back. “Relax, you’re gonna blow your fuse again.”

You glance down at your wrists and nuzzle further into him. You can’t believe you could have been laying on him this whole time. You never want to use a blanket again, not when you’ve got him. “I’ll be fine now that I’ve got my cuffs.”

His hand stills on your bicep. He squeezes it before his hand drifts up to your chin and he tilts your face up again. “I don’t ever want to see that again.” You’re a little surprised by the sudden shift in tone, but you knew this was coming. 

“I had to, Logan. I either took you all down with me or I went on my own.”

Logan frowns and takes in a deep breath. You place a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He smiles down at you, “Next time, take me with you. I’m not fucking dealing with Summers without you.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Your face grows warm and your chest expands with some odd gleeful feeling as he laces your fingers together. “Deal,” you whisper, still smiling at him. 

A/N: Okay, this might be shit, I’m not sure. I sort of rushed the ending because as I was writing this I had another idea for him. I guess I’m officially off my hiatus. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[angywritesstuff]

Jay Halstead x Reader

He keeps crawling into your bed and taking a piece of your heart every time.

Smut with a little plot??

You followed Kevin through rollup and could feel Jay’s eyes on you as if they left a physical trail behind. He was pissed, you knew he was. Every time you pulled a stunt like you just did it pissed him off. Even when Voight let it go because you got it done, you got the case closed and no one was killed he wouldn’t let it go.

You had a gun pointed to your head “Stand back bitch” you grinned “That’s detective bitch and let the kid go then maybe I’ll step back” you were antagonizing the guy at this point but you needed his eyes on you along with that gun being pointed at you instead of the fifteen year old he’d grabbed. He tossed the kid to the side and raised the gun higher “I’m going to prison anyways, might as well kill a lady cop” you flinched when a shot was fired but blood splattered across the ground in front of you.

“You’re welcome” Jay’s voice came across the com. He’d taken the shot in the half a second before the guy managed to pull the trigger, just like you knew he’d be able to. You weren’t the only member of the unit to have ever placed your life in Jay’s hands when it came to his sniper capabilities. Hell Voight himself had done it.

You made it up to the bullpen, unbuttoning the collar of your gear as you walked and felt Jay’s hand barely brush against yours as he walked past you,a little too close. “I’ll see you later” it was all but a whisper but he knew you heard him. The promise in his words made you bite down on the inside of your cheek.

This thing had started a while back between the two of you, you were friends and worked in the same unit so you understood the high stress of each other’s jobs and why neither of you had the energy to pursue dating. The solution was to use each other as a means to blow off steam when needed. How did it even start? Hell at this point you couldn’t quite remember. The rules were simple, no overlap into your job and no catching feelings.

Easier said than done when you had Jay Halstead’s hands and mouth all over you multiple times a week most of the time. You’d never meant for it to happen but every single time he came crawling into your bed you fell a little more. Everyone was finishing up their reports to head home. You cut your eyes at Jay about the time he glanced up at you and winked before turning back to his paperwork. Yeah, you were fucked.

You had your hand on your truck door when you felt that familiar arm slip around your waist followed by Jay’s warm breath hitting your neck “If we weren’t in public right now I’d have my head buried between your legs. Do you have any idea how bad you pissed me off?” you glanced over your shoulder at him, letting a smirk slip onto your face “I got the kid, you had my back. No big deal”

You saw a flash of anger in those sea blue  eyes, “No big deal? I’ll follow you to your place. I may just cuff your ass to the bed so you can’t push my head away after I make you cum” you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth at his words and felt your panties soak when you saw the way his eyes tracked the movement “Yeah, I bet you’d love that” you shook your head “See you at my place” then shrugged his hand off and opened your truck door. He took a step back, that damn smirk of his in place.

____________________

You parked and the moment your truck was off and you were out of it you spotted Jay’s truck pulling up behind yours. You didn’t bother a look back and just walked up to your steps. You barely got the door open before he was slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest. You smiled despite yourself when you felt his teeth teasing at the sensitive flesh of your neck “Can we make it inside Halstead?” you asked and he barely made a sound in response, guiding you over the threshold. You could feel him kissing and sucking the skin at the bend of your neck but he’d never left a mark before so that wasn’t a worry. A light moan escaped you when he caught a sensitive spot and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You reached out to lock the door but his hand came out to cover yours. He broke away from your skin and spun you around to face him, you tried and failed to not smile at him “You’re kinda hot when you’re mad” he shook his head. “Come here” he leaned down just far enough to get his hands under your thighs. You gasped lightly when he scooped you up into his arms, leaving you no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist. “Jay?” he grinned “Since I’m kinda hot, I’m taking you to bed. Now” you shrugged “I’m not complaining”

He knew the way through your apartment by now just as well as he knew his own. He kicked open your bedroom door and had you on the bed, stripping both of you free of clothes within minutes. 

Once you were down to your panties Jay leaned back and let his eyes roam across you “What?” you asked and he shook his head with a grin “You’re so beautiful all spread out like this for me” you felt your face warm “Christ Jay.Not so tough now, huh? What happened to being pissed?” He raised an eyebrow “Oh  I’m still pissed” and caught your lips in a rough kiss as his hands slipped under your panties, tugging them off your legs.

You felt one of his thick fingers slip through your folds before plunging into you.When you moaned into his mouth he grinned and added a second digit, curling them up until he hit that spot inside of you that made your back arch off the bed. He broke free from your lips and watched your face “Come on baby, let me see you fall apart. Be a good girl and spread your legs just a little further”

Your legs fell apart and he lowered his lips to your breasts “You feel so good, squeezing my fingers like that..you wanna cum?” you nodded, practically panting from how close you were to an orgasm. He grinned “Admit what you did was fucking stupid” you shook your head, stubborness winning out over just how bad you wanted him to pleasure you. You hadn’t been in the wrong, dammit.

He pulled his fingers out of you with a shrug “Ok then” you whined, fully whined at the loss of contact “You fucking asshole! I was right there!” he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips “Admit I’m right” you glared at him “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself” and slid a hand down towards your pussy but before you could touch it he was grabbing both of your wrists in one of his, pinning them over your head “No ma’am”

You glared up at him from your position under him. You could feel just how hard he was through his boxers and that mixed with the denied orgasm had you pissed “Jay, I swear on everything just please fuck me already!” He smiled “Don’t worry i’ll take of you” he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips and released your hands, pressing them into the mattress with his own as he laced your fingers together, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he rutted his hips down against yours.

You whimpered in his mouth, the contact not what you needed but better than nothing. He bit your bottom lip gently then pulled back from the kiss to reach down and slip his boxers off “Grab a condom” 

You turned enough to slip a hand in your nightstand and felt him curl his palm against your ass as you did so. You pushed back into his touch and he chuckled lightly. 

____________________

Once he had the condom on he caught your chin to press another kiss to your lips “Turn over baby” he helped you move over onto your stomach and slipped a pillow under you before pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. You felt the head of his cock teasing at your opening before he pushed into you, bottoming out with one hard thrust. A loud moan of his name escaped you as your head fell to the bed. 

“You good?” he asked and you nodded “So damn good” he laughed “Good” you felt one of his hands on your hips, gripping tightly as the other pushed your shoulders down further into the mattress. 

Your hands balled into the comforter, every snap of his hip pulling screams of his name from you. It felt so damn good but  was borderline too much, “Can’t you handle it, baby?” he asked through gritted teeth.  “I can-fuck, I can handle it” you moaned. You were so damn close. He folded his body over yours, one hand supporting his weight on the mattress while the other slipped under you to find your clit, rubbing tight circles. You felt your orgasm slam into you as you clenched down on him, your entire body shaking slightly. He buried himself into you with a final thrust and came with a low moan of your name.

He stayed like that for a little while, hands rubbing across your body and lips following them. Working to soothe the muscles. “You ok?” he asked and you nodded “I’m good” he kissed your shoulder then gently pulled out, apologizing when you hissed between your teeth from the action. He helped you turn on your side then kissed you “I’m gonna toss the condom and get cleaned up. You need a water?” you nodded and he smiled “I’ll be right back”

________________

Once Jay came back you took the offered water and thanked him with a smile. He offered you his shirt from the floor after he slipped his boxers on and you slipped it over your head in favor of not being completely bare. He sat down on the bed next to you, fingers trailing over your thigh “You seriously pissed me off. What if he moved just a little faster? What if I missed?” you cut your eyes at him and shrugged “He didn’t and you didn’t. I trust you Jay, hell the entire unit trusts you. We could have swat on scene and Voight will look at the man in charge, literally roll his eyes then say get Halstead on the roof. I knew I was safe with you”

He shook his head “I told you over the com to back off” you grinned “I don’t like being told what to do unless I’m naked” he glared at you “I’m well aware of that sweetheart”  you laughed “I can lie and say it won’t happen again but it will. You’ve known me for how long?” he laughed “As long as I’m there I’ll do my best to get you home” and leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips. 

You looked down at the shirt you were wearing “You need this” he nodded “Unless I can stay here tonight?” you raised an eyebrow “Jay you don’t do overnights” he shrugged “It’s not the same thing with you” “What about work? They’ll notice you wearing the same shirt two days in a row” he shrugged “I’ll leave early enough to swing by my place, c’mon. It’s late and I’m tired” you shook your head “Fine”

He grinned and slipped under the sheet next to you. He turned to face you “Are you coming out on the water with everyone this weekend?” you nodded “Yeah, Kim and Hailey already asked me to go shopping with them for new swimsuits” he raised an eyebrow “Do I get some photos from the shopping trip?” you shook your head “That’s not very friend material there Jay” and turned with your back to him.

He slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you back against his chest before saying “If a friend can’t tell you what bathing suit makes them hard, what good is that friend?” you shook your head, trying to ignore how fast your heart was beating “Go to sleep Jay” he pressed a kiss to your neck “Goodnight” “Night Jay”

You hated the fact that you were falling for Jay. Why did you think you could ever manage to have sex with him on a regular basis, have his hands and lips all over you, hear him call you baby and sweetheart and not fall? 

You’d had casual sex before,a random hookup here or there. Maybe that’s why you thought you could sleep with one of your closest friends and not fall for him? Not catch yourself looking towards him in the field, not catch yourself smiling slightly when he had your back despite arguing with you over it. You knew it didn’t mean to him what it meant to you. Jay was such a good man but to him? It was just blowing off steam with a friend. 

When the weekend rolled around you found yourself almost backing out, almost. Kim and Hailey would kill you if you didn’t show up.

__________________

You stepped out your truck at the docks and heard a loud whistle but knew it was Kim from the tone. You turned and saw her standing next to her car with a grin “Looking good!” you did a little spin, despite the fact that you were just wearing sandals and cut off shorts over your swimsuit. She nodded towards the water “Let’s get a move on, the guys are already on the boat”

You grabbed her arm and the two of you headed that way. You locked eyes with Jay as you made it to the boat and his eyes trailed down your body before he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked away. Adam moved to help Kim onto the boat and you started to take Kevin’s hand but to your surprise a different hand was offered to you. You smiled when you locked eyes with Connor, your only ex you were still friends with “Will didn’t say he was bringing the riffraff with him”

He grinned “Well yeah, he wanted to make sure you actually came” you laughed and stepped over onto the boat, pulling him into a hug. “Good to see you Con” he nodded as he pulled back, his hand on your side “Especially since it doesn’t involve you being in med”

You cut your eyes up and saw Jay staring at you. What was going on with him? He slipped his shirt off and tossed it into the growing pile the men had started before grabbing a beer from Adam and going to the other side of the boat. All of you were leaving the dock.

___________________

You laughed at something Adam said as Kevin and Antonio dove off into the water. This was actually the most fun you’d had in a while. “Not swimming?” Connor asked, stepping up next to you and you shook your head “Naw, I’m not feeling up to that” he laughed “Still not too big a fan of open water swimming unless it's a necessity?” you nodded “Yup”

He laughed and shook his head “Can’t blame ya” Kevin had climbed back up on the lower level of the boat and whistled up to you “Yo partner! Grab me a beer!” “Two please!” Antonio hollered and you nodded “I got ya” and patted Connor “I gotta get my fellas some drinks” he nodded.

You headed for the cooler at the far end of the boat and felt someone behind you when you leaned over into it even before you heard Jay’s voice “You and Connor sure have been talking a lot” 

You grabbed the two beers and straightened up before facing him, the sun was beating down on him and he was covered in a fine sheet of sweat which made it a little hard to be mad at him when he looked so damn delicious. “He’s my friend Jay, same as you” he raised an eyebrow “Oh he’s nothing like me”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked and he smirked before stepping closer “He never fucked you like I do” you rolled your eyes and bit back the response you wanted to give which was “Maybe but he actually deemed me worthy of dating” and instead you “How do you know how he fucked me?” and turned and walked away when his eyebrows were still scrunched together like they got when he was good and pissed off, trying and failing to keep the proud smirk off your face.

_______________________

You were sitting on a lounge chair with Kim when you spotted Jay talking to a nurse from med, no he was flirting. Right in view of you. Fucking asshole. Kim called your name and you blinked then looked at her “Yeah?” she laughed “I was asking have you thought about that task force position? They’re really hungry after you”

You shrugged “I don’t know, I would be gone for a month and half. I wouldn’t know my team plus the feds?” Antonio shrugged “It’s only six weeks. Plus you could wrack up some favors for us in that time” you shook your head “Thanks Dawson, spin it to me that I need to do it to help everyone” and that caused Kim, Adam and Kevin to laugh. You started in major crimes before intelligence and now had a task force wanting you on it. They’d approached Voight about loaning you out but he’d told them “I don’t loan my people without them being ok with it” so now it was up to you.

You cut your eyes back up and saw the nurse with Jay’s phone, typing in it. She was adding her number. You were falling for him and he was getting someone else’s number in front of you. “Maybe I’ll do it. I’ll schedule a meeting with them and Voight monday” you said and Antonio patted your leg “Attagirl! You can handle it” Kim grinned “I’ll take care of your place while you’re gone”

_____________________

When you got back to the dock Antonio helped you off the boat and you practically ran to your truck. You didn’t want the risk of seeing Jay or the damn nurse. The moment you were in your truck and pulling out you spotted Jay and his eyes followed you. You tried not to let your heart hurt, you’d known what it was when you two started but did he have to get her number in front of you?

____________________ 

You were showered and in just a big tshirt and panties when you heard a knock at your door. You didn’t have to look to know who it was. You snatched open the door to find Jay standing on your doorstep. His eyes widened “Sweetheart, it’s still early enough people can see you” you shrugged “Oh well. Where’s your nurse?”

He chuckled lightly, “What’s wrong?” you shook your head “Nothing” he grinned “Can I come in?” you stepped back and waved a hand “By all means Halstead” he walked in and closed the door behind himself “Why did you run off?” you shrugged, crossing your arms “You looked busy”

He shrugged “Figured you may be leaving with Rhodes” “Fuck you Halstead” a smirk slipped onto his face “Is that what’s wrong? You need a fuck?” you rolled your eyes “Why? The nurse wouldn’t give it up so you went to the easy option?” He took a step towards you and you cursed when your back hit the door. He placed a hand on either side of your head “Don’t talk about yourself like that”

“Fucking bite me” you growled and he grinned “If you want” before you knew what was happening the fucker had one hand around your throat, loosely but firm enough to hold you in place and was leaning down to sink his teeth into the soft skin of your neck. You moaned low and your hand went to his wrist, nails digging in but not trying to move it. He pulled back from your neck and smiled “Look how pretty you are with my hand wrapped around your neck” he squeezed gently and you felt your eyes roll back in your head.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips before whispering in your ear “How about I fuck you hard enough you forget how Connor ever fucked you?” you cut your eyes up at him “What about your nurse?” he grinned “She can wait” you shook your head “Fuck it” and pulled him into a kiss.

You were half asleep with Jay’s arms wrapped tightly around you. He was fast asleep behind you with his face buried in the bend of your neck, you were startled by his phone chiming. You reached for it with intentions to wake him up and hand it to him before you saw the name Erika as an incoming text and read that it say Call me Jay. Would love to get together again soon

Again? AGAIN? Had he left her and come fucked you? You felt your stomach roll and it took everything in you to not wake him up and kick him out then and there. You felt nauseous. You grabbed your phone and checked the time to see it was still early enough to send Voight a text I’m taking the task force position for 6 weeks you laid your phone down and then scooted your way out of Jay’s arms. Once you were sure he wouldn’t wake up you grabbed your shirt off the floor and slipped it on. You needed a hot shower and then you’d sleep on the couch and possibly burn the sheets you’d just fucked him on come tommorow.

 Monday morning, the lead agent on the task force was in Voight’s office when you got into work. You cut your eyes at Kevin who gave you a nod. You walked into Voight’s office as she stood up and offered her hand “Detective. I was happy to get your sergeant’s call” you smiled “I’m agreeing to the six week but then I’m coming home to my unit, understand” she nodded “Of course”

You sat down across from Voight and he nodded “Don’t worry sweetheart intelligence is your home. It’ll be waiting” so you started talking to Agent Miller about what the task force would entail, your living and travel expenses.

“So you need me to leave tomorrow? That’s short notice?” you asked and Voight shrugged “We kind of waited until last minute to get back to them” you glanced out at the bullpen where everyone kept looking at the office door. “Ok, I’ll have to make some arrangements today but I can swing it” 

Agent Miller looked at Voight “She seems like she’s going to be as good as you say” he shook his head “She’s better”

You were walking out of your place with your duffle bag when you heard a truck door slam and looked up to see Jay storming up the sidewalk “You’re fucking leaving?” “It’s six weeks” you replied and he scoffed “In D.C! You don’t know those assholes! How do you know they’ll have your back! What if something happens?” 

You shrugged “Then I guess Voight is gonna have a slot to fill” his face fell at your words “And what about me?”  “I’m just your friend Jay, you’ve got plenty of those” you told him, sighing in relief when the taxi pulled up. He followed you down the steps “We’re not just friends you know that” 

You tossed your bag in the trunk of the taxi then turned to look at him “Yeah? Tell Erika that. I’ll see ya in six weeks. Then I’ll have an option to come home to intelligence or join the international team” you pushed past him and climbed in the taxi, telling the driver you needed the airport.

______________________

“Tell Erika that?” Jay repeated your words. What the hell did you mean by that? He hadn’t seen her since the day on the water. Hell he’d only gotten her number because he was being a jealous asshole when he saw you with Connor most of the day. He remembered when you were with Connor, everyone thought that was it, that you were gonna marry him. 

When he saw you in that damn swimsuit, the way it hugged your curves…then to see Connor touching you to help you on the boat and you hugging him? He’d wanted to knock him off the damn boat. That was why he’d come to your place that day, to see if Connor was there. What he would’ve done, well he didn’t want to think about because taking you out of the equation he liked Connor.

He pulled his phone out and clicked through his texts and saw an unopened one from Erika that read  Call me Jay. Would love to get together again soon Again? He hadn’t gotten together with her past being on the water. He checked the time and cursed under his breath. That was after he fell asleep, meaning you were probably either awake or woke up by the text. If you saw the word again after specifically asking about her….FUCK

He clicked your name and texted you Sweetheart I saw the text from her, It is NOT what you think it is. Please call me when you land

What was he supposed to do if you didn’t believe him or if something happened to you or hell if you chose the international team? He never should’ve let this go this far. The moment he started feeling something for you he should’ve manned up but he hadn’t wanted to lose you. Joke was on him, he lost you anyways.

You checked your phone to see what Jay had texted today Can you just let me know you’re ok? He knew you were ok. You talked to Hailey or Kim every day. He was just trying to get you to talk to him. “Boyfriend?” Charity asked with a raised eyebrow from where she was breaking down her long gun across from you. You shook your head “Friend from back in Chicago” 

She nodded “They the one that’s been blowing you up?” you nodded “Pissed me off pretty good before I left, trying to make sure I come back and not just to pack my shit up” she laughed loudly, her bright green eyes sparkling “Have you made a decision yet?” you nodded “I have really enjoyed working with the task force and anytime I’m needed in a temp position I’d hop back in but Chicago is home”

She grinned “I get it. You miss your unit” you nodded “That too” she cut her eyes at your phone “What ya gonna do about the friend?” you rolled your eyes “I have no clue” and she laughed “You poor thing”

“Coming home tomorrow” “Is she staying?” “I don’t know yet” that was the conversation Jay picked up between Antonio and Hailey but it was enough to figure out you were finally coming home. He’d talked to Erika, gotten slapped for using her as a jealousy plot and then got forgiven when he explained that he truly had feelings for you. 

Hopefully you’d forgive him with just a slap. Hell he’d let you get by with a lot more than a slap if it meant you forgiving him. 

He was quiet, trying to hear anything more. When he didn’t he figured he’d just go to your place after work. If you were there he’d try to talk to you and if not, he’d wait.

When the taxi pulled up in front of your place you cursed under your breath when you saw Jay was sitting on your steps. The driver looked at him then back at you “Everything ok? Should I call the cops?”

You laughed lightly “We both are the cops sir, it’s fine. He’s a friend” you paired the fare and grabbed your bag then climbed out. Jay stayed leaning against the rail but his eyes tracked your every movement “Hey” he greeted and you nodded “Hey” you walked past him, shifting your bag to your left hand to offer him your right. He gripped it with his larger hand and pulled himself to his feet. He looked down at you for a moment before you turned to unlock the door. 

__________________________

You walked in and cut your eyes back at him before heading to the laundry room to drop your duffle to the floor. You walked back into the living room to find Jay standing next to the couch. “Gonna sit or stand there?” you asked, sitting down on the couch. 

He sat down next to you, watching as you took your boots off and tossed your jacket too. Once you were comfortable he said “I missed you” you laughed lightly “Erika not good company? Or you already got a new one?” he sighed “I wasn’t with her before I came here that night. I know your line of thinking”

You cut your eyes up at him “Then why did she text that?” he shrugged “She said she hadn’t thought to text before then” you nodded “So you talked to her” “To explain that I never should’ve asked for her number and apologize for doing it” “Why?” you asked and he shrugged “Why what?” “Why shouldn’t you have gotten her number?” you asked and he turned his head to be fully facing you “I came here that night to see if Connor was with you”

“Why?” you asked and he smiled “Because I would’ve probably taught him not to touch things that aren’t his” you laughed “Oh so I’m just your friend but you can claim me?” his head fell back on the couch “Dear lord woman, I am trying here! Go ask Erika if you don’t believe me. I told her I was being a jealous asshole because you were talking to Connor and I just wanted you to want me like you once wanted him!”

“What?” you asked,honestly in shock and he nodded “I want you, fully” you swallowed hard “Really?” and he nodded “More than anything” you rolled your bottom lip then turned to slip your leg over his waist, effectively straddling his lap. He grinned once you were settled and put his hands on your hips. “Jay?” you called his name quietly and he nodded “Yeah?” “How long were you sitting there?” he flinched “A few hours”

“Guess you should get something in return then huh?” you asked before pulling him towards you, catching his lips in a kiss that started gentle but when you rolled your hips down against his he nipped at your bottom lip causing you to gasp lightly and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, rolling it against yours. 

Your hands went to his shoulders, gripping tightly as he deepened the kiss then broke from your lips to kiss across your jaw then down to your neck “Jay?” you called his name and he cut his eyes up at you “Yeah baby?” you smiled “I’m yours?” he nodded “And I’m yours baby” you looked over your shoulder towards your bedroom before asking “Stay with me tonight?” a broad grin split his face “That’s the first time you’ve asked me to stay” you pulled him into a kiss before saying “First time you’re my boyfriend instead of friend. Now take me to bed Halstead” 

He grinned against your lips and stood, causing you to have to wrap your legs around his waist “Anything you want baby”

[angywritesstuff]

prosecco masterlist

prosecco

harry is just on the edge of thirty-five, and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out, anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated.

including: older!harry, and a fluffy 'friend' date wordcount: 14k+

sangiovese

y/n has a bad night and the only person she can think of asking for help is harry. he did always promise to be there if she needed him

including: drunk!y/n, mean friends, and fluffy harry wordcount: 9k+

moscato

harry didn't mean to find out the hard way the truth about y/n's feelings.

including: another 'friend' date, a little jealous!y/n, and first kisses wordcount: 12.5k+

malvasia

dating y/n was different now that he knew how she felt, especially the things that happen when he takes her home

including: finally some real dates, private relationship stuff, and lots and lots of kissing wordcount: 10.5k+

parellada

harry knew this was going to have to happen at some point, he just wished it didn't involve y/n crying in his car

including: misogynistic ex, little bit of crying, and a little kissing wordcount: 8.5k+

merlot

harry wanted nothing more than to take his time with y/n and get to know everything about her, in every sense she'd allow

including: basically just smut (inexperienced!y/n sex, oral—m receiving—, praise kink, and lots of kissing and love), aftercare and morning after fluff wordcount: 15k+

—————

all blurbs can be found here

[angywritesstuff]

prosecco

prosecco part one: harry is just on the edge of thirty-five, and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out, anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated.

wordcount: 14k+

—————

Harry hadn't realized how long it had been until he walked through the chattering restaurant.

He hadn't realized how long it had been since he had gone out; out for something more than a business meeting or picking up takeout to bring back home where he would eat while pouring over paperwork for the next day. It wasn't until he spotted the door to the private room where a friend's birthday party was being held that he realized it had been a little over six months since he had allowed himself to relax and enjoy the life his hard work had earned him. He could barely contain the bubbling excitement he felt as he reached the door to the party, able to hear the quiet chatter of his friends on the other side.

"Harry! You made it!"

He heard the slightly drunken voice call for him as soon as he slipped through the door. The room was bathed in soft lighting, a private bar lined the back wall of the room with various tables set up throughout, people sat at some while others were only used to house gifts and food. Strips of windows allowed for a look outside the restaurant, both of the city life outside and the quiet patio out back. The patio area was left with only a few others milling about, having been rented out in conjunction with the main party room.

Harry looked to whoever it was that called for him, finding his friend, Tawny, already making her way over with a flute of a bubbling, amber liquid in her hand. A smile stretched across his features at the sight. He had missed this.

"I was just telling them how I was worried you weren't going to make it, thinking you got called into some meeting last minute," she continued as she reached him, clumsily gesturing behind her with the flute in her hand. She settled a friendly hand on his bicep, using the hold to steady herself as she looked up at him with flushed cheeks.

"Not tonight. Nice to see you again," Harry smiled, leaning down and wrapping an arm around her waist in a hug. "Where's Charlotte?" he asked as he drew away, referencing the birthday girl for the night.

"Oh! She's by the bar with Tom and Jenny." Tawny pointed him in the direction of the bar, Charlotte being the one dressed in a pair of bright, paisley printed bottoms with a sparkling birthday tiara on her head.

Harry nodded his head, turning to match Tawny's gaze again before stepping towards the bar. "I'll find you later, yeah? 'M gonna go say hi."

She only nodded her head before flitting off to another group, leaving Harry to navigate through to the bar. He greeted each person who noticed him, promising to return later to catch everyone up on what he had been doing since they last saw him (just a bunch of nothing filled with paperwork and late nights at the office).

"Charlotte! Happy Birthday!" he bubbled when he reached the bar, opening his arms to wrap her in a hug.

"Thank you so much for coming, H. It's been so long since you've come out with us," she smiled at him, reciprocating his hug.

Harry pulled up a barstool after they parted from their hug, setting his gift for her down on the bartop. "I know, 'm sorry. Jus' been busy lately, but 'm gonna try to come out more. I miss everyone."

"Don't be sorry, its okay! We all understand, I'm just happy you made it" she insisted, the tinseled base of her birthday crown catching the light as she shook her head. Her eyes brightened as she caught sight of something behind his head, a beaming smile tugging at her lips as she waved whoever it was over. "Mitch, look who's here! Harry finally made it!"

"Harry! How have you been?! You haven't been out with us in so long!"

It felt good to be back.

—————

"'M gonna grab another drink, I'll be right back!" Harry called over his shoulder, waving behind him to the group that had brought him out to the patio with them. Once everyone got over the whole how are you, its been so long small talk, the group settled into the swing of things just as they used to. It felt nice to be surrounded by people he didn't know through work, both the patio and the main room now filled with people celebrating Charlotte's birthday and people he hadn't seen for the better part of the year. He did feel a bit guilty, though, feeling like people were paying as much—if not more—attention to him than Charlotte for the night. But, she didn't seem to mind (or notice at all, really) as she flitted about the party with a flushed smile on her face, draping herself across every person she talked to.

When he reached the bar, the bartender raised a questioning brow at him with a smile on her face. "Jus' another Old Fashioned, please," Harry requested, leaning over the bar before pulling out his phone and scrolling through his missed notifications. He tried his best to peel away from the work related emails that generated on his lock screen, but he couldn't help but peek at the subject line before someone saved him from his self-inflicted torture.

"You never came and found me again, asshole," Tawny giggled behind him, coming up to stand beside him at the bar.

"Sorry," he laughed, gratefully locking his phone and putting away the emails, "Mitch and everyone pulled me outside, and you know I can't be pulled away from karaoke."

Tawny playfully rolled her eyes at him, twisting against the bar so her back was against the structure as she faced the main room. Harry mimicked her gaze, looking over his shoulder to find what had taken her attention. A few new faces had shown up since he had arrived; faces of people he couldn't wait to catch up with. He pretended as if he wasn't looking for one guest in particular, though he knew his shoulders minutely dropped in disappointment when his fleeting scan of the room came up empty. Maybe, she wasn't coming tonight.

"Oh, my god," Tawny breathed, her voice low as a look of disbelief crossed her features. She spared a glance towards Harry before returning her eyes to the subject of her shock. "I think Andrew came with Iris tonight."

He recognized the names but couldn't place why Tawny would be so surprised to see them together. They both were apart of their friend group, though Andrew always left a sour taste in Harry's mouth.

He was a bit of a dick who acted as if he were still some college frat guy despite being only a year younger than Harry himself; he was rude in the name of being 'blunt', and enjoyed entertaining a playboy lifestyle while promising these women a future of the opposite with him. Harry didn't like him, but he tolerated him for the sake of being the bigger person. As for Iris, he only really hung out with her when the whole group was present but she was very nice and very funny as far as he could remember. It wasn't odd for some of their group to pair off with each other, so he didn't understand what Tawny was getting at. Had he really missed so much?

"What's wrong with that?" he questioned, watching the way Iris leaned against Andrew's side as they talked to one of Charlotte's friends he didn't recognize.

"Oh, that's right, you haven't hung out in a while," Tawny mused, pulling her disappointed stare from the couple, "You haven't heard what happened with (Y/N) yet, have you?"

(Y/N).

A smile threatened to tug at his lips at the mention of her name. That's who he'd been looking for.

Harry couldn't deny the small crush he harbored for her, never able to pull his eyes from her or his attention away when he was in her presence. She was funny, and smart, and so kind, and entirely too beautiful to be fair. He remembered when Iris brought her around the very first time, the two of them being close, and Harry could already tell she was going to be hard to forget. It had been at a little get together at Charlotte's house, only the core group of people in attendance with Iris' plus one, and he remembers being so caught up when he first saw her, he completely stopped speaking in the middle of a conversation with Mitch.

After promptly being teased, Harry made it his mission to get to know her that night, listening intently to each of her little stories and the small introduction Iris offered on her behalf. He found that they had the same taste in music and a similar sense of humor that Harry could see made her feel more at ease when he would laugh at her jokes. He had planned on asking for her number and hoping to make plans to see her again by the end of the night, having decided he wanted to see more of her without the pressure of their friend group watching on. It wasn't until (Y/N) tossed out some throw away comment to Iris just as everyone was saying their goodbyes, that he put his phone away and realized he was going to need to minimize his affection for her to see her as nothing but a friend.

"No, I have to go to bed early tonight. I have a lecture at eight tomorrow morning with that one professor that marks you off if you're not at least five minutes early." He remembers the way she rolled her eyes as she finished off her comment, shrugging her jacket on her shoulders before following after Iris to say goodnight to everyone.

She was in school. She was young enough to still be in college, and Harry couldn't help but feel guilty for spending so much time flirting with her that night and planning his next move. He'd never really considered himself old before, still being on the so-called 'right side' of thirty-five (though he figured he's more so on the precipice of the right side, his birthday only a few months away), but there was something about the fact that she was young enough to be taking classes to prepare her for a career ahead while he had already been established for years in his, that made him feel guilty. He knew by all intents and purposes, there wasn't anything wrong with being interested in her, but he couldn't help but feel like the creepy older man that he'd heard women complain about so often. She probably didn't want him following her around and trying to earn her affection when she was just trying to make friends.

So, that night, Harry remembers the way he quickly shoved his phone back into his pocket—earning a confused glance from Mitch—before offering (Y/N) a friendly hug goodbye, and a quiet nice to meet you! falling from his lips. He lingered only a few minutes longer afterwards, following after Mitch who left soon after his own goodbyes. Since then, he'd made a choice every time she came out with them, to keep things on a level just below professional. He cared about her, but he'd rather keep her at an arm's length than make her any degree of uncomfortable, even if that crush he had for her never really dissipated.

"Um, no," Harry answered, the bartender sliding him his icy glass, "What happened?" He dreaded to hear what could have conspired between (Y/N) and Andrew, the latter's name already causing a tick in his jaw.

A downturned expression pulled at Tawny's features, the kind of look he imagined she would pull after watching a commercial with sad animals. "Apparently," she started, waving her hand in front of her, "(Y/N) and Andrew had been talking for the past couple of weeks, and they were supposed to go out last weekend, on a real date. (Y/N) told Charlotte that they were supposed to meet at a restaurant, but Andrew just stood her up. She waited for over an hour, I'm pretty sure, and he didn't even say anything until almost midnight that night. He told her he was 'sorry'"—she curled her fingers in the air to mimic quotation marks around the word, as well as a roll of her eyes,—"but that it was 'probably for the best, anyway', and that he'd been seeing someone else or something like that. She told Charlotte everything after she got home from the restaurant that night, but no one's really heard from her since. And it seems like whoever Andrew was seeing, though, turned out to be Iris."

Harry followed Tawny's line of sight, viewing the way Iris held onto Andrew's arm so tightly through a different lens. Of course, Andrew would try it with (Y/N), of course he would. Not only did he try to worm his way into her life, but he took the same chance Harry had been dying to take for months, and used it to tear (Y/N) down and replace her with someone he knew was close to her. Harry felt a bout of anger flare through him at the realization of what Andrew had most likely done to (Y/N). He always bragged on and on about how he was able to charm one girl this night, and another the next, telling them sweet stories of their beauty and the way they made his heart race and how he would do anything to be with them. He was good at playing the shy, crushing boy just before he got the attention he wanted—typically some kind of sexual favor—, then leaving. Harry was always more than disinterested and disgusted with these stories, and to add (Y/N)'s face into the mix did nothing to settle the tense that fell over his shoulders and the irrational thought of marching over to Andrew and finally laying into him the way he'd wanted since he met him.

"Fucking dick, right?" Tawny interrupted his stewing, her words coming out as an exasperated sigh.

"'S what I've been sayin' since he started coming around," Harry grumbled, sipping on the drink in his hand as a way to stop himself from throwing it over Andrew's head. "How do any of us even fucking know him?"

Tawny laughed at his question, shaking her head as if she had no idea either. She settled after a moment, her features taking on that pity look again. "It just sucks because (Y/N)'s so nice, and she told Charlotte that she thought he really liked her. I don't think she's even talked to anyone since she got here tonight, she's still so upset."

"She's here?" A furrow pulled at Harry's brow as he faced Tawny. Since becoming more comfortable around everyone, (Y/N) had turned into something of a butterfly that flitted around every get-together and left a trail of bright laughter and sparkling smiles behind her. She typically left the wallflower position open for Harry to fill, allowing him the privilege of admiring her.

"Exactly," Tawny mumbled, casting her gaze off to a table to the side of the room, hidden by the pile of gifts on another. Harry could just barely see the pink of (Y/N)'s top around the gift bags flooding the table in front of her, her face lit up by her phone in her hands and a watered down glass of something next to her with only chips of ice left in place of the cubes. "Are you going to talk to her?" Tawny asked, sipping on her own drink beside Harry.

He thought about it for a moment, figuring that if she wanted to talk about it, she would have. And she would probably want to talk to someone she actually knew, not some guy that hung out with her friends occasionally. "I don't know. If she wanted to talk about it, she would have with one of y'guys, already. I don't want to push her."

"If she's going to talk about it with anyone, I think it'd be you, actually. She really likes you, you know." Tawny spoke so nonchalantly, Harry didn't think she realized just how hard his heart was beating in that moment. "Every time we've gone out since you got promoted, she's asked if you were going to be there, and when you were going to be coming out with us again; she missed you. I think she'd be really happy to talk to you, H."

Harry took one more glance at (Y/N), finding her gaze still fixed on her phone though it didn't look like she was even seeing what was on her screen.

He slowly nodded his head, picking his drink up from the bar before looking towards Tawny. "I'll be right back."

Harry only saw Tawny nod at him with a small smile on her face before he made his way towards (Y/N)'s private table. She didn't notice him as he rounded the corner around the gift table.

"Do y'mind if I sit with you?" Harry had barely gotten his question out of his mouth before (Y/N) snapped her head up to look at him, her phone falling flat onto the table in front of her. It wasn't until then that Harry saw the smallest of glittery little tears sitting in the waterline of her eyes.

(Y/N) was quick to wipe them away, feigning the action as a motion to move her hair from her face. She beamed up at him with a surprised look on her face, one that eased his heart just a bit from the revelation that she had been on the verge of crying just a minute ago. "Harry! Of course, you can! I didn't know you were coming tonight, its been so long."

A small smile tugged at Harry's features as he pulled out the chair beside her. "It has been a while," he affirmed, biting his tongue to stop himself from immediately diving into calling Andrew every horrible name in the book.

"How have you been? I heard you got promoted at your marketing firm, right?" She voice titled upward at around the title of his job, posing a question around if he really worked in marketing or if she'd got it wrong.

Harry couldn't stop the lopsided smile that hit his features. She remembered.

"Marketing, yeah," he confirmed, nodding his head as his fingers traced around his glass, "Jus' been busy with work. Definitely a lot more paperwork now, but 's worth it. How 'bout you? How are your classes and everything?"

(Y/N)'s gaze fell when he started his line of questioning, her smile dropping just the smallest bit at the corners. "I've been good. It's been a long week, lots of homework since finals are coming up. But it's really nice to see everyone again, I feel like it's been so long. Longer for you, though, I'm sure." She ended with a small laugh, one that didn't quite reach her eyes, but Harry wasn't surprised. He knew she was lying.

He remembers being her age, and wanting so badly for everyone to like him. The ways he shifted and changed his personality to be the person he thought others wanted him to be, in hopes of earning their acceptance. She was trying so hard to make it seem like she was just as happy as usual, make it easy for others to interact with her. She was much too good for Andrew, and for anyone really—including, himself. How Andrew could act so nonchalantly after blowing out her light, Harry would never understand. And, if he had a better back and didn't have a meeting tomorrow morning, he would have dragged Andrew outside and finally tried out all the moves he's learned since he's taken up boxing. But he couldn't leave (Y/N), not when she so obviously didn't want to be alone, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

"If y'need any help, I could try," he offered, a small smile on his face as he tried to meet her downturned gaze, "Don't know if m'business degree would be much help in your english classes, though."

Harry felt his heart skip a beat as a ghost of a smile crossed her features, accompanied by a breathy laugh she stifled down. "You mean you've never had to analyze Beowulf and describe each of the pagan elements and how they pertained to the Christian beliefs of the eighth century?" She tried her best to keep her face straight as she spoke, but Harry could still see the smile edging at her lips.

"'S crazy the way they jus' gave out degrees when I was in school, cause I've got no idea what you're even talking about," Harry laughed, absently leaning over the table as he spoke, closer to (Y/N). His eyes were glued to the way she laughed at his teasing, the bright smile that covered her face and, if he hadn't known any better, he would have thought she was the happiest girl in the room with the way sunshine poured from her giggle.

Harry let a beat pass between them, feeling his own smile fade as he remembered why he came over in the first place. He didn't want to pull the small shred of happiness that had wormed its way onto her features, but he also didn't want her to feel like she had to hide the way she felt just because she wanted others to feel comfortable around her.

He swallowed, fixing his gaze to his glass, following the droplets of water dotting the outside. "Tawny told me, by the way," he mumbled, flicking his gaze to her for just a second before settling back on his drink. "About—um—about Andrew."

"Oh, that" she breathed, her tone edged with a laugh Harry wasn't expecting. He shifted his eyes to see her reaction, finding a forced kind of amusement tainting her features. Though she tried to feign lightheartedness, there was an embarrassed edge that lined her features in the way she bit the inside of her cheek and refused to match his gaze.

He rolled his lips between his teeth as he figured his next words, cautiously eyeing the reddened waterline of her eyes and the sheen that now covered her irises. "I jus' wanted to tell y'that 'm sorry, and y'don't deserve that. Andrew's a dick and 'm here for you, even though I can't come around all the time. 'M always here."

She pursed her lips as he spoke, seemingly unable to even process his words as she fought off the small collection of tears that pooled in the waterline of her eyes. Her bottom lip wobbled the harder she tried to fight off the sobs that were working in her chest, sniffling her nose. Against her wishes, the tears lacquering her eyes overwhelmed the ledge of her waterline, her tears flowing in hot streaks that left streams down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaky and barely audible over the distant chatter around the room. She delicately brought her fingers to her eyes, trying her best to stop the tears from pouring down her face. She refused to look at Harry, or even in the other direction where Andrew and Iris were still fawning over one another, her gaze fixed to her glass that was now more water than lemonade. "I don't know why I'm cr-crying. It's not even that big of a deal, I'm just being over-overdramatic. I'm sorry."

Harry waved away her apologies with a shake of his head, his brow furrowing as he scooted his chair closer to her's. He hesitantly put his arm around her shoulder, knowing she needed comfort more than any rules he had set for himself. He pulled her closer to his side, her tears now carrying small bits of black from her mascara. She leaned gratefully into him, her cheek laying against his shoulder as Harry propped his chin on the top of her head.

"Don't need to be sorry, love, really. You're not being overdramatic, promise." His voice was quiet as he spoke against her hair, even sparing a small kiss to her temple as he squeezed his arm around her shoulder. He let her cry into him for a moment, her hands fluttering over her face in an attempt to clean her face from the already smudged black under her eyes and the tracks trailing down her cheeks.

He cooed small reassuring words to her, hoping she would still be able to hear them over the stuttered breathing that filtered through her lungs. He tried to shield her as best he could from the party, covering most of her with his own body so she could feel some semblance of privacy. He heard her breathe something similar to that of This is so embarrassing, broken up by stuttered breaths and her crackling voice.

"C'mon," he whispered to her, ducking his head to her ear. He started getting up from his seat, offering his hand out for (Y/N) to take, "Let's go somewhere quiet, yeah?"

"Okay," she peeped, keeping her head down as she stood up, pressing her palm to Harry's before lacing their fingers together.

He led her through to the patio, the space now cleared as the temperature had dropped. He pulled her to one of the tables in the corner, so no one could peek at them from the main room. One side of the table had a booth setup, allowing (Y/N) to pull Harry along to slide in next to her. Once settled into the farthest corner of the booth, she slipped her hand out from his and tended to the petite tears that had continued to fall down her cheeks as he led them outside.

Her fingertips were smudged with the black of her mascara, matching that of the soft skin of her undereyes. A crease formed in Harry's brow, watching the way she began harshly scrubbing at her cheeks as her breathing came in stuttering inhales.

"Sweetheart," he cooed, gently wrapping his fingers around her wrist, "Stop, 's okay."

He pulled her hands from her face, before grabbing one of the cloth napkins set out on the table. Twisting in his spot, he brought the linen to her face, the tip of his finger wrapped in the fabric. He pat the dewy skin on her cheeks, flakes of black from her lashes being transferred on to the clean white of the napkin.

"I'm being s-so dumb, I'm so sorry, Harry," she swallowed around the lump in her throat, her voice nasally as Harry delicately pat at her undereyes. "The one time you're able t-to come out with us and I cry all over you for no-no reason."

"Stop," Harry repeated with a sigh. Pinching her chin between his index finger and thumb, he gently positioned her head as he continued to wipe at her eyes and try his best to lessen the tears still slowly leaking from her ducts. "You're not dumb. Or overdramatic. 'S normal t'feel this way. What he did was awful, (Y/N), and I can't imagine how it feels to see him again so soon with someone else. Y'don't deserve that. You're not dumb for feeling."

As he spoke, Harry was aware of the way her bottom lip wobbled under his hold and the rejuvenated sheen of tears that fell over her eyes. She drew her gaze to match his own concerned one before she fell into his chest, Harry abandoning the now dirtied linen in his hand in favor of wrapping his arms around her. She cuddled closely to his chest, her face buried in his neck with her own arms looped round his middle.

"Just sucks," she whispered into his skin, her voice lighter than the kiss of her lashes against the column of his throat.

"I know, but 's gonna be okay," Harry sighed, cautiously resting his cheek on the top of her head. He wanted to say more, his thoughts wiped of all other goals than to make her happy. All he wanted was to speak the truth, sing her praises and promise her just how much better she was than Andrew and the grief he had caused her. But he didn't want to scare her, or make her any kind of uncomfortable, especially since she had sought out comfort in him.

"Harry?"

"Hm?" He stroked his hand down her back, (Y/N)'s own hands fisting at the softened fabric of his shirt.

She swallowed, Harry able to feel the motion against his shoulder before she spoke. "Is this always going to happen to me?"

Harry swore his heart broke at her words. The resigned edging to her voice made it all that much more painful as it felt like the edges of his cracked heart raked down his chest. He gently peeled her from the home she had made against his chest, his hands on her shoulders. He ducked his head to match her downcast gaze.

"(Y/N)," he started, a stern edging to the honey coated call, "You are so kind, and smart, and funny, and gorgeous. There are so many people who realize all of those things, I promise you. And those are the people who are going to treat y'right, and take care of you the way y'deserve." A wild idea flittered through Harry's head, threatening to slip from his mouth before he stopped himself. Though he wished he could allow them to fall, he was scared of the reaction he would garner, especially when (Y/N) was already so emotional. He didn't want to push any harder.

She shook her head as she looked off to the side, avoiding his relentless gaze. The leftover tears from her previous sessions pooled on her waterline, dripping down in slow succession. "But this is what happens every time. How else am I supposed to be treated?"

Harry's eyes flicked down to his hands that laid in his lap, twisting his rings around his fingers. He rolled his lips between his teeth, making a last minute decision he hoped he wouldn't regret.

He brought his head up to find (Y/N) also looking towards his hands, the saddened look on her face he hoped would be wiped away. "Y'deserve so much, (Y/N). Anyone would be lucky to show y'how y'should be treated,"—he nervously gulped before squaring his shoulders and feigning confidence—"How a man should treat you, not whatever it is that Andrew thinks he is."

Her eyes were wide as she finally matched his gaze, the dotted glow of the fairy lights around them adding a shine to her eyes he noticed was no longer from tears. She didn't offer any commentary, only looking to him for answers to questions she hadn't even posed yet. But he knew. And he knew just how he was going to answer them, even if he had to pretend he had no doubt in his mind of her reaction.

"I could show you," he started, tracing his gaze along her features in an effort to gauge her reaction. "If y'wanted, I could take y'out and show y'how that date should have gone, and how they all should be after. As friends, though, of course."

His final statement was added in a rush. All he wanted was to see her smile again, this picture of her with tears in her eyes and tracks down her cheeks doing more destruction on his heart than he thought possible. Although this was a bit of a self-indulgent way of getting her to smile, he would never expect anything from her or their time together.

"A date?" she asked, a tint of disbelief to her voice.

Harry bit back his smile, teeth digging into the full of his bottom lip. He nodded his head, hoping he hadn't blown his chance at even just a friendship with her.

He watched on as a smile bloomed across (Y/N)'s features. "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course, I would." The matching dimples on either cheek made themselves known as Harry matched her smile. "Heard y'missed me anyway, so it'd be nice to spend time together." His voice held a teasing lilt as the moment turned to a much lighter note.

Her jaw dropped in a shocked expression, her eyes wide. "Who told you that?! Was it Tawny? I told her not to tell you!"

"Why not, love?" Harry beamed, his heart skipping a beat over her admission of missing him. "I think 's cute."

"Stop," she whined, a shy smile on her face as she flitted her gaze to the scene behind him.

Harry couldn't stop himself before his response dropped from his mouth, but he felt like he could say anything at this point. He could say and do anything as long as she looked at him with the stars in her eyes (even though he was pretty sure those were just the fairy lights). "I missed y'too, you know. 'M really happy I got to see you tonight."

Her smile only widened as she dropped her gaze to her lap where her hands suddenly became restless under the attention. "Me too, even if I started crying two minutes into talking." Harry could see the roll of her eyes.

"I mean, y'still got a date out of it, so I think y'did alright."

"Yeah," she smiled, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to her head, "I've never been on a 'friend date' before. Thank you for asking me, Harry. It means a lot."

Though the addition of the word 'friend' caused a small drop to his shoulders, he was more than excited for the date, even with the predetermined conditions. The night wasn't going to be about him and his feelings for her, it was going to be about the way she deserved to be treated and the wiping away of the imprint Andrew left on her. The night was going to be about making her happy. That was all Harry wanted from her.

"Y'deserve it, sweetheart."

————��

As soon as she was ready, Harry led them back to the thick of the party with her following closely behind him. He had spent the rest of the party closer to (Y/N) than he had ever allowed himself. Especially as the night was winding down, the main group of them (minus Iris and Andrew, who had snuck off earlier in the night and never returned) being the only people remaining, (Y/N) seemed to have made it her mission to stick by Harry's side as much as she could. They hadn't talked much more about the date other than setting it up for next Friday night after he got off work, allowing Harry to fall back into his favored wallflower position as (Y/N) lit up the room despite the red rim around her eyes and the puff of her cry-swollen lips.

It was only after Charlotte had started dozing off with her birthday tiara going sideways on the top of her head, that the night was called to be wrapped up. Even after all of the chattering goodbyes were shared, and the joking requests that Harry shouldn't wait so long before coming out again, he couldn't help himself from delaying his departure from (Y/N).

She had just shrugged on her purple jacket, clumsily tugging up the zipper when (Y/N) looked to Harry who was lent against the doorway with his car keys in one hand and phone in the other. Harry had looked at her through his lashes, a small smile on his lips as he caught her gaze.

"Bye, Harry," she said, her voice soft and quiet to match the warming glow of the last few threads of light strung across the room.

"Don't sound so sad," he started with a coo, opening his arms for her to fall into, "We'll see each other again really soon, remember?" She nodded her head against his chest, Harry able to feel the smush of her cheek against his skin as she smiled.

She was the first to pull back, Harry allowing her to set the the pace of their contact though he wished he could have frozen that moment and just held her for even a second longer. Now that he knew what it felt like to have her warmth seeping through his skin, he couldn't get enough of it.

She looked to him with a softness to her gaze he was sure no one but her could ever achieve, as if her irises were melting before him. "Yeah, we will," her voice just barely louder than a whisper. Harry felt his breathing hitch in his throat as her hands slid from his neck and down his chest with her palms laying flat against the fabric of his jacket. Her own gaze followed her hands, only bashfully looking to Harry through her lashes. "Thank you again, by the way. For staying with me tonight, I'm sure it wasn't how you were planning on spending your first night hanging out with us all again."

A lopsided smile tugged at his features, leaving a soft kink in his lips as he gave a reassuring squeeze with his hands on her waist. "Of course. Whenever y'need me I'll be there. I wouldn't have wanted to spend it any other way."

She dropped her eyes to his feet as she took in his words, the toes of his boots just a hair away from touching her own shoes. Small strands of hair fell and obstructed Harry's view of her face, something he had to stop himself from fixing by brushing the hairs back and cradling her cheeks so she would face him again. Instead he allowed her that small moment of shy privacy, knowing that with the grouping of people who were distractedly eyeing their interaction, they would both surely be interrogated soon enough.

"I should probably go," she mumbled, reluctantly pulling her hands from his chest and taking a step back as she pulled her keys from her jacket. "But we'll see each other soon, right?"

Her reiteration of his words only solidified the smile on his face.

Harry nodded his head, dropping his hands from her waist and sliding them back into the pockets of his jacket. "'M excited already."

"Me too."

(Y/N) made her exit after that, tossing a wave to the rest of the group before looking to Harry one more time with a quiet smile on her face. He wanted to walk her out tonight, indulge himself the smallest bit and give himself more time with her, but he wanted to save everything for when he took her out for real.

It wasn't until Harry had made his own exit and was getting his car started to go home did he receive the text he was expecting from the moment he pulled (Y/N) outside with him.

Tawny

I told you so.

—————

Harry doesn't think he's been this nervous in a long time. Maybe it was because he hadn't been on a date since his last relationship (a little over two years, then), or because he's never wanted a first date to go so perfectly in his life. He had made reservations the next morning after Charlotte's party and had gotten to know just how few florists were in his area with the amount of time he spent browsing over bouquets. The whole seven days he had to wait to see (Y/N) again were spent with Harry trying his best to plan out every single detail, right down to the outfit he wanted to wear in the event that she wore a this dress he had seen posted to her instagram in the weeks prior. He wanted to match her.

He looked at himself in the mirror one more time, the bouquet of peach colored roses and white daisies resting on the table below. Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair. His curls tumbled through his fingers as he puffed out his cheeks with a heavy exhale. His gaze traveled down his form, hands distractedly smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in his black blazer. He carefully tugged on the mint green dress shirt underneath, pulling the lapels out just far enough that the delicate baby's breath flower embroidery could be seen. He worried for a minute, debating if he should button his top back up—if his show of skin, with the tips of his bird tattoos showing, was too much. He shook off his indecision, instead adjusting the string of pearls around his neck so the clasp faced the back.

He had to stop himself when he swore he saw a chip in his freshly painted black nails, knowing he was convincing himself of such flaws out of jittery nerves. He double checked the time on his phone; thirty-two minutes before he promised he would be at her door. He wanted to ensure he wasn't a second late to pick her up. He cradled the bouquet delicately to his chest, and took in a deep breath before leaving.

The drive was familiar from the few times (Y/N) opted to host gatherings and Harry was able to make it. While he was eased by the knowledge—the possibility of him showing up at the wrong complex at a slim-to-none chance—the familiarity caused the time to go by faster than Harry even realized. With nerves still fluttering through his fingers and seeping into his veins, he walked the staircase up to her apartment. He gripped the bouquet like a lifeline as the pacing off is footsteps matched the thrumming of his heart. The path to her door was a blur, Harry acting on autopilot until the golden lettering declaring her apartment number stared him in the face. With a practiced breath, he knocked on the door.

Each second felt like an hour with his heartbeat creating a soundtrack that rushed through his ears. He held the bouquet in front of his chest, hoping for the flowers to be the first thing she saw when she opened the door. He could faintly hear the rattling of the doorknob on the other side before it was swung open to unveil his date for the night.

In her pajamas.

"Harry?" (Y/N) looked to him with her eyes wide and her jaw dropped in a small gape. Her skin was clean of makeup with her hair pinned into a knot on the top of her head. Strawberry printed pajama shorts adorned her legs with a worn grey top slouching off her shoulder.

This wasn't quite how Harry had pictured her outfit for the night, assuming she would have opted for one of those flirty outfits she posted on her social medias, but if this is what she wanted, he had no quarrels. He couldn't deny she still looked beautiful, so he had no reason to complain.

"Are you ready?" he questioned, a lopsided smile on his lips as he gazed down at her. She most likely needed to put shoes on at the very least, if the fuzzy socks with cat faces printed all over them had anything to say.

Her gaze dropped to flowers held tightly in his grip. "You were serious? About the date?"

Harry's heart dropped at her words. Had she not been serious in her acceptance? Had he just made a huge fool of himself? He guessed he's avoided her before, but maybe now he would have to be much more deliberate with his appearances.

His free hand rubbed at the back of his burning neck, lowering his gaze to the flowers that now smelled too sweet. "Yeah," he breathed, an embarrassed flush working its way up his chest, "But if y'changed your mind or anything, I completely understand. I apologize for interrupting your ni—"

"No!" she rushed, flailing her hand in front of her to match her shaking head, "I-I didn't! I just thought you had only asked to make me feel better last week, since I was crying all over you and everything." Her voice ended in a humorless breath of a laugh, her gaze matching his with a bashful softness to her irises he had missed in her absence.

His smile turned a shy corner as the dimple in his cheek deepened. "I did want y'to feel better, but I meant it when I asked you. I really do wanna take y'out and show y'how you're supposed to be treated. If you'll let me."

"I want you to, really!" she stressed, bouncing in place with stray strands of hair leaking from her bun, "I'm so sorry, Harry, I guess I just—I don't know. I need to get ready, but I'll be right back! You can come in and wait, if you want." She stepped back from the doorframe, allowing Harry the space to slip in, the heels of his boots soundless against the fluffy grey rug in her walkway.

"These are for you, by the way," Harry smiled, handing the arrangement out for her as she locked he door behind him.

Her eyes rounded out as with a puppy dog's softness as she gazed solely up at him, as if she hadn't seen the bouquet at all. "They're so pretty, Harry. Thank you." She gave him the sweetest smile as she took them from his grip, muttering something about putting them in water. "You can put on some Netflix or something if you want, I'm so sorry you have to wait on me!" she called from the kitchen, her voice trailing farther away as she moved towards her room.

"'S not a problem, take your time," he answered back, moving towards the living room to her secondhand, brown suede sofa.

Just as he was about to take a seat on one of the cushions, he heard the sound of feet pattering along the hardwood. A moment later (Y/N) popped up beside him, still in her pajamas with her hair now pulled back by a pearl studded headband. She wrapped her arms around his middle with the full of her cheek smushed against his chest.

"Thank you so much, Harry," she mumbled against the fabric of his jacket, her grip tight. Sincerity dripped from her words, cloaking over his heart in a warming glow.

Without a thought, Harry draped his arms around her as best he could from the angle she offered. He dropped his head to rest on her hair, his cheek atop her head. With his eyes fluttering closed, he savored the contact and held her just as tightly as she.

"Of course, love," he whispered against her hair, lips brushing the crown of her head.

She reluctantly pulled back first, a soft smile on her face Harry hoped he would be able to memorize by the end of the night. "I'm gonna go finish, but I'll be as fast as I can."

With that, she scuttled off back down the hall. Harry couldn't shake the smile on his face as he settled on her couch, the ghost of her silhouette burned against his form. He mindlessly looked through the titles on the TV with no comprehension of what he was seeing, much too distracted with the memory of her hold. If he wasn't already completely gone for her before, he figured he would be going home love-drunk after this date.

Time passed with half an episode of Bake Off Harry didn't remember selecting playing from the television, he heard the sound of her feet, now clad in what had to be a set of heels, stepping down the hall. He stood from his spot on the couch, turning around to find her adjusting her outfit in the full length mirror posted on the wall beside the bathroom.

Just as he had hoped, the same clean, white dress she had posed in on her instagram weeks earlier adorned her body, embroidered with flowers the same shade of cream that matched the ones on Harry's own shirt. The satin base of the dress wrapped around her body, the hem ending at the middle of her thighs while the tulle overlay boasting the delicate blossoms reached her ankles. The silken tie in the waist tugged one side of the dress to the other, allowing the tulle skirt to split and sway behind her with each step she took. The neckline laid wide across her shoulders, framing her collarbones before the tulle of the sleeves wisped around her arms and cinched at her wrist. Her hair was simply held back by the pearl headband, the clean white matching that of her dress with her dewy lips and wide eyes stealing most of Harry's attention.

He was sure his jaw had dropped as soon as he caught sight of her. There was no other reaction that could have properly suited her appearance beside dropping to his knees in worship.

She looked to him once she gave up on taming the flyaways that escaped her hairstyle. She gave him a soft, apologetic smile, her lashes curving outwards with a flick towards her brows. "I tried to be as fast as I could, I hope I didn't mess up your plans."

"Y'look... gorgeous, (Y/N)." He couldn't manage any other thoughts to leave his mouth, nothing coherent enough to make sense.

She released her gaze from his with a shy smile on her face, finding interest in the white heels on her feet. "Thank you. I wanted to look like I belonged next to you."

Could a heart break and swell at the same time? In what world would she have to work at being on his level when she was so clearly leagues above him in all senses of the word?

"I dunno, love," Harry smiled, "I think everyone is gonna know I was the one that had to beg for a date with you." He couldn't find it in himself to be ashamed of his forward flirting, allowing himself the smallest of indulgences for the night knowing this would be a one time thing.

(Y/N) only held a bashful smile on her face at his words, the shine of the satin wrapped around her body rivaling that of the gleam in her eyes.

"Ready?" he asked again, mimicking that of when he first arrived at her apartment.

She was quick to nod her head and take his offered arm, still shy as she leaned against his side with the skirt of her dress brushing against his leg.

"We match! Like our flowers, I mean!" (Y/N) bubbled once he opened the car door for her, gaze attached to the flowers stitched on his top.

Harry smiled, nodding his head and mumbling out a small we do, huh. Just as he had hoped.

—————

"Reservation under Styles, please."

The hostess nodded her head, tapping away at the tablet in front of her as she offered a polite smile. (Y/N)'s hand was placed in the crook of Harry's elbow, her hold tight as she looked above at the crystalline chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. He couldn't help but feel a bit of pride puff at his chest from the way she seemed to be in awe of the restaurant he had picked for them that night. This was just the beginning of the follow through to his promise he made a week earlier. He planned on thoroughly proving how she deserved to be treated after other's had convinced her otherwise.

"C'mon," he whispered to her, his voice hush as he shuffled towards the friendly waitress that beckoned them to their table. (Y/N) snapped her head in his direction with her eyes still wide, reflecting the prismatic drops that hung from the chandeliers.

Harry maneuvered her in front of him, reluctantly pulling her delicate hold from his arm in favor of nudging her ahead of him. He stayed close behind (Y/N) as she followed the smartly dressed waitress, reassuringly cuddling her hand in his when she reached back. He smiled as he listened in to the way she shyly engaged in small talk with their waitress—who introduced herself to be Tara—with her free hand nervously toying with the satin bow at her waist.

"Is this table to your liking?" Tara asked, her smile bright as she stopped next to a small table set in an intimate corner of the restaurant.

"Yes, thank you," Harry responded for the both of them. He was quick to move around (Y/N), pulling out her chair before looking to her with a smile. She shyly thanked him with her voice quiet enough for only him to hear before settling in the offered seat. Harry pushed the chair in before rounding the table and sitting in his own across from her's.

The waitress made her exit after dropping off the menus with a promise to return in just a moment for their drink orders. Harry answered for the both of them, leaving (Y/N) to examine the menu in front of her with wide eyes and careful fingers lingering along the edges. He admired her with a small smile on his lips, taking in the way she seemed to attempt to memorize every single detail of everything in her sight.

"What do y'think?" he mused, leaning forward with his elbow balanced on the table and his chin propped in his hand.

She snapped her head up to face him, her eyes holding a moony sparkle as she looked at him. "Harry," she sighed, a dreamy tint to her tone, "You didn't have to take me somewhere this nice. I would've been happy to go anywhere with you."

"I know," Harry smiled, enjoying the sound of her affection for him, even if it was only as friends. "But I wanted to make this really special for you. Jus' like I promised, right?"

A timid smile spread over her features with the curl softened by his words. She lowered her gaze from his, Harry too caught up in how endearingly sweet she was to miss the sight of her melted irises.

Just then, Tara approached their table. Her smile was bright and polite as she greeted them. "What can I get you started with?" Tara looked to (Y/N) first, instinctually starting with ladies first.

She floundered under her gaze, flicking her wide eyes to Harry before glancing down at the menu in front of her. "Um—a water, please?" Her answer sounded like a question before she looked back to Harry, her expression akin to the embarrassed look she held just before crying at the party a week ago.

Tara nodded her head, her eyes fixed on the small notepad in her hand before placing her attention on Harry. "And you, sir?"

"Water as well, please. But, we'll share a bottle of your Château de Salle, if possible." He handed back the small drink menu to Tara, offering a smile as she scribbled his request.

"Of course, Mr. Styles. Good choice," she praised, sliding the small notepad into the pocket of her apron, "I'll be back with your drinks and for your dinner orders in just a minute." With that, Tara disappeared to tend to her other tables.

"What's a Ch-Chateau de Salle?" (Y/N) asked, her pronunciation of the wine shaky.

A smile spread across Harry's features. She was so cute. "'S wine," he explained, "A rosé. I think you'll like it."

"Oh," she breathed, her brows raised, "I probably shouldn't drink tonight actually."

"And why is that?" A pinch formed in his own as he gazed at her.

A timid smile pulled at her lips. "I don't know if you remember, but I'm a huge lightweight. I don't want to act too silly in a restaurant this nice." She finished with a laugh, surely recalling some memory of a party Harry halfway attended while the rest of him focused on ensuring he didn't run into (Y/N) too many times.

"'M sure you'll be fine, love. Don't worry about anyone else," he murmured, his voice low as he gestured vaguely around them to the other patrons, "Do whatever y'want, I'll be here to take care of y'anyway." He ended his words with a softened smile, hoping she would heed his advice and do whatever made her happy for the night.

After earning a bashful nod from her, Harry dropped his eyes to the menu in his hands. He quickly skimmed over the options, the menu familiar from the several times he had attended business dinners at the venue.

He allowed his gaze to travel from the menu to slyly glance at the girl across from him through the vignette of his lashes, the dinner lighting creating a divine glow around her form. The pearly headband holding her hair back created a small bump of volume with the accessory emulating a crown on the top of her head. Her fingers tenderly toyed with the ends of her hair, swaying the strands and curling them around her fingertip before allowing them to fall against her collarbones. He delicately traced her features with his eyes, catching the small gape in her glossy lips and the way her gaze darted across the shining pages of the menu in front of her.

"What's looking good, love?" Harry asked, referring to the dinner selection laid out in front of her.

She looked up at him with indecision painted over her features. "I'm not sure," she said, a pinch in her brow appearing as she kept her voice hush, "It's all really expensive, H."

Now it was his turn to furrow his brow, genuinely confused over why she would be worried about the price. "Don't worry about that, okay? I don't mind paying for whatever y'want. I jus' want y'to enjoy this."

Her eyes rounded out at the sound of his words, brows relaxing and going downturned as she gazed at him. "You're paying for me?"

"Of course, (Y/N). So don't worry about any of that, okay? Jus' pick whatever sounds good and I'll take care of the rest." Harry had to hold back a scoff at the idea that he would be anything less than a gentleman and make her pay for her own dinner. He had invited her in the first place, of course he was in charge of paying. He couldn't help but wonder how many other shitty, Andrew-level dates she had been on that had treated her so flagrantly.

She straightened up in her chair, leaning over the table while sliding her menu over to Harry's side. "Th-This sounds good, however you pronounce it," she mumbled, pointing at a pasta dish labeled with Verdi e Bianchi in a delicate curving font. She looked to him for approval, as if asking if her choice was up to par.

"Sounds really good," Harry smiled, hoping she would relax now that she had his approval, though she didn't need it in the first place. Harry pointed at his own choice for the night, (Y/N)'s eyes following his black painted nail as he stopped at Scampi Pomodora e Manta. "I think 'm gonna get that, what do you think?"

She nodded happily while reading the description, body language visibly relaxing. "That looks really good! You're gonna make me change my mind if I think about it too long," she laughed, much more settled than she had been since sitting down. Harry didn't realize how much he had missed her airy giggles and lax smiles until she had become stiff with her nerves.

Just then, Tara returned with the crystalline bottle of rosé in her hand and a bright smile on her face. "Sorry about that wait, are you ready to order?"

Harry nodded his head, answering with a polite yes, please for the both of them while (Y/N) sat back in her seat with her menu flat in front of her. Tara, of course, started with (Y/N) again. She flicked her gaze to the menu in front of her, skimming quickly in an effort to find the ravioli dish she had showed to Harry, before looking to him with a pleading look through her panicked gaze.

Harry straightened in his seat, grabbing his own copy of the menu. "She'll have the Verdi e Bianchi, please," he started, Tara quickly turning to face him before nodding her head and writing down the order, "And I'll have the Scampi Pomodora e Manta. Thank you."

He collected both of the menus and handed them off to Tara before she made her rounds attending to each of her tables. He shifted his gaze to (Y/N), finding her already looking at him with her lips set in a tender smile.

"That alright?" he asked, "Y'still wanted that?"

She quickly nodded her head. "Yeah, thank you for ordering for me. I just get nervous when it's my turn for some reason, especially since I didn't know how to say that one." She shot him a shy smile as she finished, her fingers absently trailing over a bundle of embroidered flowers along the neckline of her dress.

Harry did remember the few times they had all gone out for dinner as a group, (Y/N) always wanting to go last, assuming that by the time it time for her request, everyone was too busy interacting with one another to pay any attention. He hadn't thought it was because of something cute like that fact she didn't want everyone to hear in case she had messed up her order on accident.

Harry gently shook his head with his gaze on the table, a small smile on his face. "S'cute," he mumbled to himself, basically mouthing the words with how quiet he kept his voice.

"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed, perking up in her seat with her lashes fluttering as she gazed at him.

"Nothing, love," he brushed off, reaching for the wine Tara left chilling in an ice bucket stationed table side, "Want to try some? Supposed to have 'notes of peach', the bottle says." He nodded to the crystal in his hand as he carefully uncorked the pink tinged glass with the opener left beside the ice.

He saw the way she thought about it for a second, pursing her lips before her gaze landed on the bottle in his hand. She gently nodded her head, a smile blooming across her features as her eyes brightened and matched his own gaze.

He happily complied, pouring her glass first. He stopped just barely halfway filling the bowl, "That good?"

She nodded her head, the tendrils of her hair that escaped from her headband and framed her face bounced alone with her. Harry kept an eye on her as poured his own glass, observing the way she delicately pinched the stem of her cup. He matched her motions, much less hesitant than she, sipping the wine and letting the bubbled peach notes slide over his tongue. She brought the glass to her lips, the spotless crystalline of the bowl making it easy for Harry to catch the way the full of her mouth cushioned the edge of the glass as the pink wine waved towards her.

(Y/N) was quick to pull that glass from her lips after the first sip, her shoulders stiffening and face screwed up in distaste. "I thought you said it was supposed to taste like peach," she accused, her eyes wide under her cinched brow.

Harry's smile seemed to be permanent at this point as he gazed at her with what he was sure was adoring eyes. "Y'don't taste the peach? I thought it was pretty obvious," he teased, figuring she was a bigger fan of the mixed, fruity cocktails she usually drank and not the fermented wine he was sipping from.

"Its sour," she mumbled, dropping her gaze to look accusingly at the glass still held in her hand.

"I can order y'something else if y'want?" he offered, settling his glass down as he tried to recall what the raspberry and sage cocktail was nicknamed on the menu.

She was quick to shake her head in response, "No, no its okay! I just need to get used to it, that's all. I usually drink super cheap, sweet vodka in a can, obviously." She finished with a laugh, bringing the wine to her lips to try another sip despite the way she clenched her eyes shut at the taste.

She caught his gaze over the rim of her glass resting on the full of her bottom lip. He watched on as her lips curved into a sweet smile. He felt his own gaze drop as his eyes scanned over her face, taking each small detail under the dinner lighting.

"What?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side just a bit.

For a split second, Harry pictured himself reaching across the table and fitting his hand around the back of her neck and pulling (Y/N) in for a kiss. He wanted to know if her lips felt just as plush as they looked, what flavor her lip gloss held, and how tangled their lashes would be when he got close enough. He wanted to kiss her so bad, but thats not what friends do; especially not friends who are in different stages of their lives with years between.

"'S nothing," he mumbled, shaking his head as he straightened in his seat and adjusted his jacket over the broad of his shoulders.

Just then, Tara returned with a pair of pristine white plates in her hands and her perfect smile on her face. She started with (Y/N), setting the plate of her ravioli in front of her before reaching over and tending to Harry. She did the usual spiel of asking for cracked pepper or cheese grated atop their dishes. He declined the pepper, but (Y/N) shot him a look when the cheese was offered.

"She would like some, please," he smiled, nodding to (Y/N). She shot him a smile, clearly pleased with the way she picked up in her signal.

Tara quickly rounded the table, the fancy crank grater in her hand as she recited to (Y/N) to just say when! Harry kept his eyes glued on her face, waiting for the look she would surely give him when she'd had her fill.

"That's good, thank you," Harry interrupted when (Y/N) glanced at him, her smile turning grateful at his words.

Tara politely nodded her head, standing off to the side of the table. She gave a practiced speech, asking if there was anything else that the couple needed before leaving with a promise to check on them in a few moments.

Once alone, (Y/N) trailed her gaze from the food in front of her to the man sitting across from her. "Thank you again, Harry. This has been the best date I've ever been on already."

He couldn't help but feel breath of pride puff up his chest. He nonchalantly lifted his shoulder in a half shrug with a lopsided smile on his face. "Still have the rest of the night left, sweetheart, don't speak too soon."

She rolled her eyes with her softened smile stuck on her features. She looked down at the food in front of her, absently grabbing her fork and sectioning off a bite of ravioli before speaking, "It's gonna be amazing no matter what, because I'm with you."

She spoke so simply, as if that was the answer Harry should have been expecting from the start. But, that wasn't at all something he thought would ever leave her lips. He expected a sentiment like that to come from him and the endless pining he held over her, not for her to speak them so surely and cause his heart to race and drop at the same time. Race because it fulfilled a tiny part of him that allowed him to pretend this was a real date, and drop since the rest of him knew this whole night was nothing more than a friendly distraction and held nothing more than platonic affection.

Harry was sure his cheeks were flushed a cherried hue at her words, opting to distract himself by twirling his noodles around his fork and popping the bite into his mouth. They were quiet as they began to eat, Harry running her words through his mind over and over, trying his best to untwist them from his own slew of affectionate thoughts. Every time he would flick his gaze to her, he swore he saw her look away just before he could meet her eyes.

That is until he caught her. He found her gaze locked across the table—at his food.

Her own plate was halfway finished, the cheese from the raviolis oozing into the marinara sauce around them though she didn't pay it any attention. A small smile tugged at Harry lips, recalling the way she almost switched her order to match his, his brows raised as he looked to her.

"Wanna try some?" he offered, already twirling a bite of noodles around the prongs of the fork and picking up a small cut of shrimp.

She looked to him with a bashful look on her face, eyes rounded out and cheeks soft. "Can I?" she laughed, "Sorry, it just looks really good. You can try mine if you want!"

"'S okay, love, I don't mind." He offered her his fork, intending to pass the utensil off to her.

Instead, he watched as she leaned over the table, tossing her hair over her shoulders to keep it out of the way. The glow of the candlelit center piece wafted upward to dance over her features, bathing her skin in a soft warmth. She delicately placed her fingers on his wrist, just a brush of a touch against his arm as she took the bite directly off the fork with her lips around the utensil. She drew back as she chewed, her eyes going wide before she swallowed and looked to Harry with a beaming smile on her face.

"That's so good!" she bubbled, "We're gonna have to come back and I want to get that next time!"

She wanted there to be a next time.

A smile spread across his features at the idea. "Definitely."

—————

"What's mascara-pone?"

Harry smiled at (Y/N)'s pronunciation, sliding her the other spoon around the strawberry crostata he order for them to share for desert. "'S a kind of sweet cheese, like cream cheese but—in m'opinion—much better," Harry explained, cutting into the crust and taking the first bite of the tart.

"Oh," she answered simply, following suit and scooping up her own bite.

They were both leaning closer to one another over the table, meeting in the middle with their shared plate. The chatter of the other patrons had grown significantly quieter over the course of the meal, making it that much easier for Harry to lose himself in the idea that it was just the two of them out that night.

He had known he was fairly gone for (Y/N), but the whole night had forcibly pulled each pining thought and affectionate scenario from the corner he had shoved them. It felt like a movie to him, a cheesy romcom where he cast himself as the overworked business man and (Y/N) as the bright, kind and beautiful heroine that would color the movie and turn Harry into the lovestruck fool he knew he could play perfectly. He never wanted the night to end, even as he watched their dessert become whittled down to a single bite with a sliced strawberry dotted on the top.

"Y'have the last bite," Harry offered, using his spoon to push it towards (Y/N) who absently licked away a swipe of strawberry sauce on the full of her bottom lip.

"Are you sure?" she asked, eyes bright.

"Positive." Harry lent back in his chair, letting (Y/N) finish off the dessert as he plucked the leather book Tara had dropped at the table a few moments prior.

He slipped his card inside, and fixed his gaze back on (Y/N). Thanks to the distraction of the pout of (Y/N)'s lips, he was only absently aware of Tara ghosting by to pick up the bill with a promise to be right back!

"Is it stupid that I don't want to go home, yet?" (Y/N) questioned, sitting back in her own seat with her fingers absently tracing along the neckline of her dress.

"'S not stupid at all," he smile, shaking his head before becoming momentarily distracted as Tara returned with their processed bill and a wish for them to have a nice rest of their night. "'M not ready to end the night either, if 'm being honest," he continued, signing the receipt and adjusting his jacket before standing up, "Was thinking I could take y'to this sculpture park that's not too far a walk from here. 'S really pretty at night and I think you'd like it. Only if y'want to, though."

He rounded the table and pulled (Y/N)'s own chair out, offering her his hand after she adjusted her dress and grabbed the small yellow bag she had brought along. "I would love to," she agreed, wrapping her hand in his and shooting him a soft smile.

Harry led them out of the restaurant, politely waving and wishing a goodnight to the staff gathered at the hostess stand before holding the door open for (Y/N) to step into the star-filled night. His gaze kept flicking from their joined hands to the sidewalk in front of them, careful about the steps he took as he was aware of the heels on her feet. He felt a shudder go through his chest despite the warmth her hand provided in his, especially after she adjusted her hold to slip her fingers between his and hug their palms together.

She drew his attention to her face when she looked to him with the starlight reflected in her eyes and the moonglow dusting over her features. "Lead the way."

—————

"What's that supposed to be?"

(Y/N) posed the question as they stood in front of a sculpture that held neither rhyme or reason. The structure boasted swirling shapes and abstract forms somewhat resembling an elephant but if Harry tilted his head the other way, he could see what looked like it could be a constellation of stars.

"'M not sure," Harry mused, a pinch in his brow as he read the small plaque that titled the piece as Farmer's Market.

"At least the lights around it look pretty," (Y/N) added, her gaze tracing the rope of lights set up around the base of the sculpture.

Harry's lips quirked into a smile as he gazed down at her. "Yeah, very pretty."

"What do you think the next one's gonna be called?" (Y/N) asked, squeezing his hand with their fingers still laced together before moving towards the next sculpture.

"Mm," Harry hummed, swinging their joined hands between them, as he continued the game (Y/N) had started a couple pieces back. "Thinks its gonna have somethin' to do with bread."

"Bread?" (Y/N) repeated, looking up at him with a confused pinch in her brow and kink in her lips.

"Mhm," he confirmed, looking towards the sculpture that looked to have nothing to do with bread.

(Y/N) took an awkward step beside him, her shoulder bumping his arm as a hiss escaped her lips. "Sorry," she apologized, slowing beside him and letting go of his hand in favor of reaching toward her heel covered foot.

"What's wrong? Are y'okay?" His voice held a current of concern, unsure of where to start though he knew he wanted to help her.

"I'm okay, my feet just hurt from my shoes and I stepped wrong," she stood straight as she spoke, carefully balancing her weight off her seemingly injured foot. "I've only worn these a couple times, and I forget every time how much they hurt." She breathed a laugh after her words reaching for Harry's hand to resume their twined position.

Harry stood still in his spot, unwilling to go any farther if she was in pain. "Do y'want to sit down for a minute?" he offered, already tugging her towards a plain white bench across from the so-called bread sculpture.

"Could we?" She shot him a relieved look and followed after his pulls on delicate steps of her feet.

He muttered an of course! to her as he pulled off his blazer and folded it before laying it on the seat of the bench, protecting her white dress from anything lingering on the surface. She thanked him before sitting on he homemade cot, her shoulders dropping from relief.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, an apologetic smile on his face as he looked to her, "Didn't even think about that when I asked if we could walk around."

"It's okay," she beamed folding one of her legs under her before facing Harry, "I just need to sit down for a little, then I'll be okay."

"Do y'want my shoes? I don't think they'll fit well, but they'll work," he offered half joking. He knew if she had actually taken him up on it he would have no qualms about finishing the night barefoot.

She laughed at his offering, already brushing it off with a shake of her head. "I'll be okay, but thank you, H. You're very sweet."

A lopsided smile tugged at his features, his gaze falling to his fingers where he twisted his rings around the digits. A slew of tender reciprocations came to mind, compliments he would hope would heat her cheeks and cause her eyes to go soft like he's daydreamed about since Charlotte's party. But, he kept quiet, heady reminders of the fact this was just a night between friends and nothing more running through his head.

Beside him, he saw (Y/N) perk up with a petite gasp leaving her lips. A bright smile colored her features as she gazed at her phone in front of her. "The lights look so pretty like this! Would you want to take a picture with me?" She leaned closer to him, her own shoulder pressed against his, showing him her screen with the front camera on.

She was right, the stream of lights decorating each sculpture and strung through the trees cast a pearlescent glow upon their faces. Shades of pink and purple with pops of a baby blue shimmered across (Y/N)'s face, where his eyes were fixed on her phone screen.

Harry was already slinging his arm over her shoulder when he responded with a smile on his face. "'Course. Jus' promise to send it to me." He tugged her closer to him with his arm around her, their thighs touching as they drew nearer.

She bubbled off a vow to text the picture to him later before positioning her phone in front of them with the camera capturing their faces. (Y/N) posed with a soft smile on her features, resting her cheek on this shoulder. Harry hoped she couldn't hear the way his heart skipped a beat at the contact as she tapped the screen and caught the moment.

She was quick to pull up the photo, adjusting her posture and removing her cheek from his shoulder. Harry's arm reluctantly dropped from around her, her warmth missing from his skin. She smiled at the image on her phone before turning it towards him.

"What do you think?" she bubbled.

Harry barely passed a glance over himself, only aware of the softened gaze he held before he fixed his attention on (Y/N)'s half of the screen. The lighting glazed over her features to cast an angelic glow across the planes of her face, highlighting the points of her features in pasteled hues. He really hoped she would remember to send it to him.

"'S perfect" he breathed, gazing at her over the edge her phone.

She quickly nodded her head in agreement, the same bright smile stuck on her features. "Would it be okay if I posted this later? On my instagram? I just really like it."

A breath of satisfaction swept through his chest, almost giddy at the thought that she wanted to show off their date, even if it was only a friendly night together.

"Anything y'want."

—————

Harry ended the night pulling up to (Y/N)'s apartment building, reluctantly putting his car in park. He wasn't sure when he would see her again, and that introduced a cloudy feeling to his chest, muggy and thick. He dreaded the uncertainty of when he would be able to allow himself to be with her like this again, or if that time would come again at all.

(Y/N) broke him from his thoughts, placing a hand on his arm from the passenger seat. She delicately wrapped her fingers around his forearm, the skin bare from rolling the sleeves of his shirt up and forgoing his jacket that now laid in the backseat. "Thank you, again, for tonight. This is the best date I've ever been on, Harry."

She looked to him with a tender gaze, her irises melted into silken pools of starlight that he swore only existed in fairytales.

"Y'promise?" he joked, watching as a smile bloomed across her lips at his teasing.

"I promise," she affirmed, squeezing his arm one more time before reaching towards the doorhandle. "I'll see you again soon, right?"

Though Harry couldn't be sure when soon was, he knew he wouldn't be able to last without seeing her for very long. "Of course. Whenever y'need me, love, I'll be there."

She dropped her gaze to the small yellow bag that laid in her lap, her softened lips still quirked in that shy smile he'd had the privilege of detailing throughout the night. She met his own eyes after a moment, looking to him expectantly. "Walk me up?"

Harry didn't even hesitate before he agreed, already stepping out of the driver's side door. He rushed around the front of the car, just barely beating (Y/N) before she opened the door and stepped out.

"Gotta wait for me. Still on our date, right," he teasingly chastised, offering her his hand just as he had all night long. He wanted to get one last moment with her fingers laced between his, hoping the walk up to her apartment was long enough that he could memorize the feeling.

The ascent up the stairs was a moment of dejavu, Harry felt. The steps familiar in the sense that his heart was running a racetrack through his chest, but this time he was anchored to the moment with more than a bouquet of flowers as a buoy. (Y/N)'s hand in his and the matching pacing of her heel-clad steps kept him grounded in the fact he was still with her, no matter if the moments with that comfort was waning.

"I'll be looking forward to that invitation to go to that restaurant again," (Y/N) mused, leaning against her front door as Harry stopped in front of her.

He kept his hands deep in his pockets, refraining from wrapping them around her waist and keeping her warm against his chest. "Y'let me know when you're free, and I'll set up the reservations."

A beat of silence passed between them, as (Y/N) lowered her gaze towards the floor with her fingers nervously picking at the satin tie around her waist. "We're still on our date, right?"

A smile poked at Harry's cheeks, "Yeah, I'd sa—"

(Y/N) cut him off by taking a bold step in his direction and placing her hands on her chest. She leaned up as far as she could with the help of her heels before placing a sweet kiss on his cheek (more like his jaw, but she reached as far as she could). Harry was hyperaware of how close she was to his lips, the leftover gloss on her mouth leaving a slight pink kiss mark printed on his skin.

"Goodnight, Harry," she mumbled after pulling away, glancing at him from over her shoulder as she let herself in her apartment.

Harry was left with a whiff of her scent as she closed the door behind her, her kiss sitting on his cheek with a blushing warmth radiating from the spot. He hadn't even realized he had fluttered his eyes closed until he blinked them open to find himself still in the spot she left him in.

He practically floated down to his car, forgetting each step he took as soon as he made it. The drive home was a matching blur, each turn and brake tinted with rose petals. It wasn't until he had just got home and had made it to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed (and stare at the kiss mark against his skin), that he was pulled out of his stupor by the buzz of his phone.

He reached for the device after unbuttoning his shirt, his chest bare as he swiped on the notification. His screen brightened with a familiar photo posted on Instagram, the notification coming from the tag that hovering above a perfect ringlet in his hair.

The photo taken in the sculpture park now held a caption at the bottom.

best date with my best friend. thank u, h. 🌼

He was gonna need to set up that next reservation soon.

—————

prosecco is a sparkling wine, vibrant and sweet, boasting notes of crisp apple and honeysuckle. peach notes linger long after finished.

ahhh!!! this is the series that was supposed to be a one shot!! I started writing this almost a year ago and pictured it finishing off at 10k and now its just gotten too long w too much story to fit in one thing but !!!! I really hope u all like it and thank u so much for reading!! you can find the completed piece with all following parts already up on my patreon or I will be posting every Friday!! thank u for reading, sorry for any mistakes and if u have any ideas or anything please send them in!!!!

[angywritesstuff]

Irresistible

Summary : Falling in love with Bucky Barnes is a little complicated when you also happen to be Yelena’s ex-girlfriend. 

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x ex Red Room!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Sex (a prominent theme but not graphic), Yelena is your ex-girlfriend / bi!reader, mentions of the Red Room and Hydra, alcohol consumption (Let me know if I miss anything.)

Word count : 7.4k

Note : In this fic, Bucky and Yelena are already friends, so it’s set post-Thunderbolts. The title is inspired by a Fall Out Boy song of the same title! The taglist is open so lmk if you wanna be added. Enjoy!

Yelena Belova was a lot of things—dangerous, blunt, stubborn—but most of all, she was a good person. That’s why, despite the fact that she was your ex-girlfriend, you stayed good friends. 

For the most part, the breakup had been mutual— you’d both recognised that even though you loved each other, you needed different things. Yelena was very private, and infuriatingly so, to the point that she would not even let you in. You, on the other hand, wanted just a sliver of vulnerability— something she simply couldn’t give.  

Still, the spark between the two of you didn’t just… die. Old habits were hard to break, after all. 

Every so often, when the nights became too lonely and your apartment felt too empty, you’d find yourselves back in each other’s bed. 

Her kisses were familiar, her touch knew your body. 

She was safe. It was easy with her.

So, it wasn’t long before you had a friends-with-benefits arrangement. 

Tonight, though, Yelena had other plans. She dragged you to a dive bar because she wanted you to meet someone. She was practically bouncing on her heels as she grabbed your wrist and guided you through the crowded space.  

You didn’t expect him.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and devastatingly handsome, Bucky Barnes was a man that made it impossible for you to look away.

“This is Bucky,” Yelena introduced, slinging an arm around his shoulder like they’d known each other for years. “He’s my new friend.”  

“Since when does Yelena have new friends?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. 

Bucky smirked, the corner of his mouth curving up in a way that sent a pleasant thrill down your spine. “Since I saved her sorry ass a couple of months ago. Guess that makes us trauma buddies.”  

Yelena barked out a laugh tinged with her Russian accent and waved him off. “He exaggerates. I had it handled.”  

“She did not,” Bucky deadpanned. When Yelena ignored him to buy herself a drink, he turned his attention back to you. “So, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You shrugged, nursing an overpriced drink you had no intention of finishing. “We go way back,” you said vaguely, letting him fill in the blanks.  

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but didn’t push. Instead, he leaned against the bar. “She didn’t mention you’d be easy on the eyes.”  

You glanced at Yelena, but she was too busy flagging down the bartender to notice the tension simmering between you and her new friend.

At first, you did not know what to make of this flirting, but you had to admit: you liked to be entertained. “And she didn’t mention how charming you were.”  

The banter between you was easy— the chemistry was there. His wit kept you on your toes, and there was something so unexpectedly gentle about him that caught you off guard— a contrast to Yelena’s brashness.  

Yelena, oblivious to the growing tension, downed another drink and slung an arm around your shoulders. “You like him?” she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.  

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “He’s alright.”  

Bucky chuckled, his eyes still lingering on you as the night wore on. It wasn’t long before Yelena’s drinking caught up to her, and she declared she was too tired to stay out.  

“I need to go home,” she slurred, leaning heavily on you. “Take me home.”  

“Guess that’s my cue,” you said, sliding an arm around her waist, a movement that still felt so… comfortable.

“I’ll help,” Bucky offered, and the three of you stumbled out of the bar together.  

By the time you got her back to her apartment, she was out cold, leaving you and Bucky alone in her living room.  

“She’s got a lot of pictures of you,” he observed, his eyes scanning the wall.  

You followed his eyes, your chest constricting as you relived the memories in the photos and Polaroids of you and Yelena from years ago— among others, there was in you eating sandwiches in her favourite diner, another one by the Museum of Natural History. Laughing and smiling in memories that felt like a lifetime ago.  

“We’re close,” you said simply, brushing it off.  

“Close?” he pressed, curious but not invasive.  

“You know, met in the Red Room. And….” You hesitated before shrugging. He had to find out some time, right? “We used to date.”  

Bucky’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn’t seem surprised. “That explains a lot.”  

“Does it?” you challenged.

“Yeah. Explains why you’re so comfortable with each other. Why she always talks about you.” He stepped closer, chuckling at a photo of you and Yelena at the Statue of Liberty, face squished against each other. “Why she dragged you out to meet me. Guess she wanted to show you off.”  

Your cheeks flushed. “And what do you think?”  

“I think,” he said, his voice low, “she didn’t do you justice.”  

—

After properly tucking Yelena into bed and double-checking that her stoves were off and her windows locked, Bucky leaned casually against the doorframe. There was a small, mischievous smile on his lips.

“Late-night ice cream?” he asked.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Do you super soldiers ever sleep?”  

“Not when there’s better company to keep us awake,” he quipped. That look—half smirk, half smolder—sent your stomach into an involuntary flip. Still, you managed to play it cool, rolling your eyes.

Before you knew it, he’d whisked you off to a quiet spot overlooking the river. The two of you sat side by side on the hood of his car, munching on small tubs of convenience store ice cream.

“Vanilla, huh?” you teased, giving him a sidelong glance as you tugged his jacket tighter around your shoulders. He’d draped it over you without hesitation the moment he noticed your shivers. The leather was warm, carrying a faint scent of his subtle woodsy cologne.

Bucky winked and leaned in slightly. “That’s the only thing vanilla about me, Doll.”

You chuckled, trying to keep it together as heat crept up your cheeks. You’d never expected this connection with anyone after Yelena, and yet… here it was.

Every casual brush of his arm against yours sent tiny shivers down your spine, an electric current that was impossible to ignore. The conversation had started innocently enough, with chats about the weather and the city, but it quickly took a turn. You talked about life, his childhood, Hydra, and the Red Room. To your surprise, Bucky was an open book—a contrast to Yelena’s guarded nature. With her, pulling out even a shred of vulnerability felt like cracking a safe. With him, it was effortless, like the two of you had known each other for years instead of hours. 

The ice cream in your hand melted slowly, completely forgotten now. 

“It’s funny,” Bucky said thoughtfully, “I hated therapy at first.” His eyes were fixed on the river as if searching for answers in the reflection of the shifting lights. “But it... it made me better. Made me feel human again.”

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Me, too. The Red Room really fucked me up. Fucked both of us up.” You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. “I told Yelena she should go, too. Therapy, I mean. But she just... waved it off. Called me too sentimental.”

Bucky’s hand twitched almost imperceptibly, a flicker of something—sympathy, frustration, understanding, maybe—crossing his face. “That's why you broke up?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral. 

You sighed, staring at the now-liquid ice cream in your cup as you absentmindedly traced patterns on its rim. “It was part of it,” you admitted. “She’s just... not emotionally available. And I think I need someone who can really be there. Someone who wants to do the work, you know?” Your eyes lifted to meet his, searching for understanding, for connection— and you found both. 

Bucky held your stare. “I get it,” he said. He studied you for a moment before a shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You know… you’ve got options.”

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a small smile. “Oh? You volunteering, Barnes?” The question was meant to be teasing, but there was genuine curiosity there, too.

Bucky shrugged, his smirk growing into something more mischievous. “Maybe,” he said, “Or, at the very least, I’m good for blowing off some steam.”

You laughed. “I’ll think about it,” you said, though you would never admit how much you already were. 

—

The next time you hung out with Yelena, Bucky tagged along, too. It didn’t take long to realize that this was a friendship that would stand the test of time— all three of you got along like a house on fire. 

That night, Yelena kept telling funny stories about growing up with Alexei as a dad, Bucky kept doing a funny bit with a killer John Walker impression— and somehow you found yourself laughing so much your sides began to hurt. 

It was a rare kind of fun, the kind you didn't realise you needed.

Over the following weeks, you hung out with both of them more and more. Yelena and Bucky both had their quirks, and you balanced them out. After all, you often played mediator or instigator, depending on the situation. 

And while things felt so fun with Bucky, your relationship with Yelena remained… complicated. 

Despite everything, the two of you continued sleeping together— always on her terms, never something discussed or defined. It was like scratching an itch.  

You knew it wasn’t love anymore, that it was always going to be a dead end, but old habits die hard, and this one was just too familiar to stop.

—

One night, Yelena drank too much. Again. 

Too much even for her, who drank like a Russian Sailor on leave. 

You, Bucky, and Yelena had been out at a bar, the laughter flowing as freely as the drinks. But as the night wore on, it became clear Yelena was crossing a line. 

She slurred her words, her sharp wit dulled by one too many shots of vodka. When it was time to go, she could barely stand.  

“I’ll take her home,” you said, your heart twisting at the sight of her like this.  

Bucky nodded without hesitation. “I’ll help.”  

Between the two of you, getting her back to her apartment was easy— if not a little comical, with Yelena swaying and mumbling incoherently about how you both needed to lighten up. Once inside, you managed to guide her to bed, where she promptly passed out.  

“She shouldn’t be left alone,” you murmured, glancing at Bucky.  

He nodded again, “You staying?”  

“Yeah. I’ll keep an eye on her.”  

“Alright,” he said simply, compassionate but not all intrusive. “Text me if you need anything.”  

He left, and you found yourself oddly touched by the way he didn’t question it. He trusted you to handle it, and even offered help. It was something you weren’t used to—someone like him, emotionally available and dependable. And, damn it, ridiculously hot, too.  

Once Yelena was tucked in, you made sure there was a glass of water and some aspirin within arm’s reach. Then you grabbed a spare blanket and crashed on the small couch in her living room. 

Bucky texted you about an hour later:  

Bucky: Everything okay?  

You: Yeah, she’s out cold. Thanks for helping me get her here.  

Bucky: Of course. Call me if you need me. :)

—

The next morning, Yelena woke up groggy and grumpy. You, already armed with a cup of shitty coffee and a fresh lecture, didn’t hold back.  

“You need to stop drinking like that,” you said firmly, crossing your arms as you stood by her bed.  

“I’m fine,” she groaned, covering her face with a pillow. “Stop being dramatic.”  

“You’re not fine,” you insisted, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “It’s not healthy, Yelena.”  

She peeked at you from under the pillow, her expression half-irritated, half-amused. “You and Bucky drank as much as me.”  

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Bucky’s a super soldier. He cannot get drunk. And I was drinking non-alc beer all night because I knew I’d have to take care of you!”

Yelena sat up slowly, wincing as the movement made her headache worse. “Okay, okay. You’re so responsible,” she muttered sarcastically.

Your hands curled into fists. “I’m serious,” you pressed. “You need to take better care of yourself.”  

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she looked like she might lash out. But instead, she sighed and leaned back against the headboard. “You’re not my girlfriend anymore,” she said, almost sadly. “You shouldn’t be telling me what to do.”  

The words stung, but it was true. “I know,” you replied, managing you to keep your voice even. “But I’m still your friend. And you know I’m right.”  

Yelena sighed again, her shoulders slumping. “Fine,” she muttered. “I won’t get that drunk again. Happy?”  

“Ecstatic,” you said dryly, though a small smile formed on your lips.  

You made up, as you always did.

This… the tension was all too safe. You and Yelena would bicker. You fought. At the end, you always find a middle ground. It was a never-ending circle. 

But as you watched her sip the coffee you made for her, you couldn’t help but think about Bucky again—about how easy things were with him. 

About how he was there in ways Yelena never could be.

—

The following week, you, Yelena, and Bucky were going to check out the new mini-golf place that had just opened in the neighbourhood. Yelena would not shut up about it all week, bragging about how she was going to absolutely destroy both of you.  

Bucky arrived at your apartment first, looking maddeningly handsome in a casual black jacket and jeans. He had that effortless, jaw-dropping thing about him, the kind that made you wonder how he didn’t leave a trail of broken hearts wherever he went.  

“She’s late,” he said, leaning against your kitchen counter, sipping the glass of water you’d handed him.  

“She’s always late,” you replied, rolling your eyes, though the corner of your mouth twitched.  

Right on cue, your phone buzzed with a notification in the group chat the three of you had un-ironically titled Ex-Assassins BFFs <3.

Yelena: Can’t make it. Got a cold. Feel like shit. You two go without me. 

You: Want us to bring you anything?

Bucky: I can run and grab you Pierogi from the 42nd and 2nd that you like so much. 

Yelena: Nyet. Just wanna die in peace. Have fun, losers. 

Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through the kitchen like music to your ears. “Guess it’s just the two of us,” he said, though he didn't sound disappointed. 

“Guess so,” you replied, trying to keep your heartbeat controlled.

The Mini-golf plan was quickly abandoned. Instead, you and Bucky ended up on the couch with sodas, falling into an effortless conversation that always seemed to happen between you two. He had a way of making you feel seen, feel heard. 

“Admit it,” Bucky teased, leaning back against the cushions with a smirk. “You’re just upset Yelena bailed because she was your best shot at beating me.”  

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, nudging his knee with your own. “The only thing you’d be good at in mini-golf is looking good while losing.”  

His smirk widened, and there was a flicker of flirtation behind his blue eyes. “You think I look good, huh?”  

You rolled your eyes, your cheeks warming. “That’s the part you focused on?”  

“I’m a simple man,” he replied. “I like compliments.”  

You laughed a little too breathlessly, trying to play it cool even as the tension in the room began to grow with every passing moment.  

As the hours slipped by, the teasing grew bolder. At one point, you caught him staring at you—not in the way a friend should. 

“You know,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes far too sincere, “I think this is the most fun I’ve had staying in for a while.”

“Flattering,” you replied with a smirk, though your voice shook ever so slightly.  

His eyes dropped to your lips for the briefest of moments before he caught himself. “I mean it. You’re—” He paused, as if debating whether to finish the sentence, but I stead pivoted to something else entirely. “You’re really fucking hot when you laugh like that.”

Your nervous chuckles came out a little breathless. It wasn’t the first time he called you hot or pretty. But it was banter, right? The kind of casual compliments you give to friends you’re comfortable with. “Careful, Barnes,” you warned. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“Only one way to find out,” he shrugged, but let it go. He was testing the waters, making sure you were alright with this— and you seem to be.

The conversation eventually drifted—though the tension never really left—and somehow landed on Yelena. 

You and Yelena didn’t bring it up often to him, but Bucky knew enough about your past relationship.

“She drives me insane sometimes,” you admitted with a frustrated sigh. “Not in a romantic way anymore, but, God… she just has this way of getting under my skin.”

“Do you miss her?” Bucky asked cautiously.

You shook your head. “Not like that. I swear I don’t love her anymore—it’s just… exes, you know? They stick with you in weird ways.”

For a moment, Bucky only studied you, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The way he said it made your stomach flip. It wasn’t just about Yelena—it was about you. About him. About how the two of you are sitting here in the kind of tension that begged to be broken.

And goddammit, you have been flirting all night. One of you had to do something about it. 

You leaned back slightly, letting a small, knowing smile form on your lips. “You know,” you said, your voice coy, “I’ve been thinking about that offer you made the first night we went out.”

His eyebrow lifted, but there was excitement—and heat—in the way he looked at you. “Oh?”

“You know the one,” you said, your confidence catching up with your pounding heartbeat. “About blowing off steam.”

For a split second, he just looked at you, and the room felt impossibly still. Then, as if the tension had finally snapped, he leaned in. “You sure about this?” he murmured.

“Mmhmm,” you whispered, feeling his weight shifting on you. 

He moved closer, so impossibly close that you could hear his heartbeat hammer. 

Oh. 

Oh.

This was happening.

This was really happening.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was tentative at first. But when you didn’t pull away—when you kissed him back with just as much need—his metal hand came up to cradle your cheeks with a tenderness that was almost angelic.

He was everything Yelena wasn’t—grounded, gentle, steady—and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself sink into the moment without overthinking.

He told himself he shouldn’t do this, that it was a line he shouldn’t cross no matter how much he flirted with you. Flirting was harmless, right? 

You were Yelena’s ex. She wasn’t just his coworker—she was his friend.

And it’s not like Bucky had planned this. Not tonight, anyway. But now, he couldn’t bring himself to care about plans or logic or guilt.  

He felt it in every nerve of his body, every alarm in his head screaming at him to pull back, to stop.  

But… he couldn’t.

Not when you asked him to make you forget about Yelena. Not when you brought up the offer.

Not when you looked at him with your beautiful eyes. Not when your breath hitched when his fingers brushed yours.

Your lips were utterly intoxicating. It felt like surrender. The way you melted into him, your hands sliding up his arms, pulling him closer— it undid him completely.  

The guilt was still there, somewhere in the back of his mind. He knew Yelena wouldn’t take this well. She was protective, possessive, in her own way, even when you weren’t hers anymore. 

He wondered, would this feel like a betrayal to her? Did it matter how long it had been since you two had ended things? 

But as much as he respected her, cared about her, the guilt wasn’t enough to make him stop.  

Not when it was you.  

Because this wasn’t just lust, though he couldn’t deny the heat coursing through him as your lips parted and let his tongue in.

It was something more. It was the way you made him feel like James Buchanan Barnes again, not just the Winter Soldier. 

You were irresistible.  

He knew it wasn’t fair, it wasn't simple. But as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and your fingers tangled in his hair, he realised something else: he couldn’t regret this. Not even a little.  

Not when you kissed him back like this, as if you’d been waiting for it forever, too.

When you finally broke apart, your breath came fast, and you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “Well,” you said, your voice a little shaky, “that was… not bad.”

Bucky chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. “Not bad?” he repeated.

“Okay, fine,” you teased, leaning in again, your lips hovering just above his. “Better than not bad.”

And when he kissed you again, you let yourself forget everything else.

Before you knew it, you were stumbling into your bedroom.

The door barely had time to close before Bucky pressed you firmly against the wall, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. He kissed, bit, and sucked in a way that made your head tilt back, a moan escaping your lips before you could stop it. 

His metal hand traced lines along your waist, sending shivers down your spine and making you press even closer to him, desperate for more.  

"You thought Yelena was good?" Bucky murmured against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. He lifted you effortlessly, pressing you higher against the wall, "I’m better."  

The way he said it wasn’t just a boast—it was a promise.  

You couldn’t form a single coherent thought, let alone a response. His lips and hands explored every inch of you for the first time. It was almost infuriating in how good it felt. 

And god, he wasn’t wrong. No offense to Yelena—she had her strengths—but Bucky... Bucky was something else entirely. He knew how to handle you, how to read your body like he’d studied you for years. He was attentive and commanding, knowing exactly when to push you to the brink and when to pull back.

“Say it,” he growled softly, his lips brushing against your collarbone as his hands gripped your hips, pinning you in place to your bed.

“Say what?” you managed to gasp.

“That I’m better,” he almost growled. 

You didn’t have to think about it. “You’re better,” you whispered, your nails digging into his shoulders as his mouth found yours again.

Every moment with him felt designed to unravel you, to strip away any semblance of control you thought you had. His touch was rough when you needed it, slow and teasing when you begged for it. 

His stamina was otherworldly—he knew how to keep you teetering on the edge, dragging you back again and again until your body felt like it was going to combust.

Somewhere in the haze, you realised that even though Yelena was good in bed— Bucky was just. much better fit for you.

By the time the first rays of sunlight began to stream through the curtains, your body was spent, aching in the best way. You lay sprawled across the sheets, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. Bucky was beside you, his arm draped possessively over your waist, his lips pressing soft, lazy kisses to your shoulder.

Yelena, with all her lingering memories and history, was the furthest thing from your mind now— she wasn’t even a passing thought.  

All you could think about was Bucky— and the way he held your heart in the palm of his vibranium hand.

—

Even as  you slept with Bucky more and more, you still found yourself hooking up with Yelena. You knew it was fine. You told him you didn’t want labels, that you weren’t exclusive— not yet, anyway. And he was giving you space to figure it out. 

See, Yelena was familiar in a way that Bucky wasn’t—a comfortable rhythm you’d fallen into time and time again. With Yelena, you didn’t have to think or second-guess yourself. The boundaries were clear, the expectations set. Sex with her was just sex, because you’d already tried the dating thing, and it didn’t work out. There were no illusions— just the kind of physical connection that felt like it was never going to be more than surface level ever again.  

So when Yelena called you up a week later, asking if you wanted to hang out, you didn’t hesitate. It was almost automatic. She came over, and within minutes, the two of you were falling into bed.

But this time, something was different. Even as Yelena’s lips trailed down your neck, and even as her hands moved over your body, your mind kept drifting to Bucky.  

You thought of his hands, how they made you feel like you were falling apart and being held together at the same time. You thought of his lips, the way they explored you like an astronaut who just landed on the moon. And you thought of the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered with those sapphire eyes.

It wasn’t fair to Yelena. You knew that. She didn’t deserve to be someone you used to distract from your own confusion, from how scared you were of whatever it was with Bucky. But Yelena was so familiar, so easy. And you were terrified of fucking things up with him.  

With Yelena, you knew where you stood. But with Bucky... it was different. It was new and untested, and it scared you to death. And so, you found yourself alternating between the two of them—Bucky more often than Yelena, though you weren’t sure if that was by design or by accident.  

The strangest part was how nothing seemed to change when the three of you hung out together. There was no tension, no comments, no awkwardness. It was almost surreal. You’d all joke around like usual, teasing each other about missions or sparring sessions, and no one ever brought up what was happening in the background.  

Bucky never asked if you were seeing anyone else. Yelena never mentioned Bucky when you were together. And neither of them brought it up when you were all in the same room.  

Still, every time you kissed Yelena after being with Bucky, your stomach twisted. You’d feel her lips against yours, and your mind would race. What am I doing? you’d think.

She had loved you before, and now she loved you as a friend. But would that change if she knew you were sneaking around with her new friend? Probably the first new friend she had in years?

Would she hate you? Would she hate Bucky?

And yet… every time Bucky held you the night after, all that guilt melted away.  

When his lips met yours, it felt like your world finally made sense. His touch was comforting; it quickly felt like home.

At first, you’d told yourself this was just physical. 

You’d been lonely. Bucky was a fresh face, easy to be around, and it didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous. But as the weeks went on, it became harder to lie to yourself. The way he looked at you, the way his touch lingered like he couldn’t bear to let go— this wasn’t just hooking up.  

You were falling for him.  

But that only made things more complicated.  

You cared about Yelena. You always would. You knew she’d been hurt when things ended between you two, even if she’d pretended otherwise. And now, you were falling in love with her friend.  

You told yourself it was fine. That it didn’t need to be complicated unless you made it that way. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were on the verge of the emotional equivalent to a nuclear disaster. 

—

Before you knew it, three months had passed.

Once again, you found yourself in Bucky’s bed.

Bucky leaned back against the pillows, his arm lazily draped around your shoulders as your head rested on his chest, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your back. This should’ve been a moment of calm, but his mind was anything but.  

Every time he was with you—kissing you, holding you, making love to you—there was a small, nagging voice in the back of his head reminding him of who you used to belong to. 

Yelena trusted him, fought alongside him, laughed with him. And now here he was, fucking her ex.  

The guilt was always there, a low hum beneath the surface.  

But then you shifted slightly, your arm sliding over his stomach. He looked down at you, your eyebrows relaxed, your breathing steady. And just like that, the guilt didn’t matter.  

Because the truth was, he was falling for you, too.

He hadn’t admitted it to himself, not really. He’d tried to tell himself this was just hooking up, but every time he kissed you, it felt like his world realigned.

There was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before. Maybe it had, but you were just too scared to acknowledge it. 

“Are you seeing anyone else?” he asked suddenly. 

He had a sinking feeling of who it might be, but he had to ask. 

The question made your stomach drop. You could have lied, smoothed things over, pretended there was no one else. But you cared too much to lie.

“I still sleep with Yelena sometimes,” you admitted, almost bracing for impact.

You felt his fingers tense. His jaw clicked, shifting slightly as he turned you to face him. “You think I’m sleeping with anyone else?”  

You tried to defuse the tension with a scoff, hoping humour would smooth over the cracks you didn’t know how to patch over. “Look at you. Surely you must be.”  

“I’m not,” he said gently, rubbing circles around your waist with his human hand. The sincerity of his words hit you like a punch to the gut.  

His blue eyes locked onto yours, and the confidence you’d always associated with Bucky was stripped away, replaced with a fragile vulnerability that left your heart hammering in your chest. 

“I don’t want anyone else,” he said, his voice low and trembling, the edges fraying with a jealousy he could no longer contain. “Fuck, if it makes me selfish. I’m not good at sharing. Especially not you.”  

His words weren’t just a confession—it was a plea. 

He wasn’t asking you to stop seeing Yelena out of pride. It was more than that. The thought of someone else touching you, someone else holding you the way he did, was tearing him apart piece by piece.  

“I care about you,” he continued, his hand lifting to cradle your jawline, the cool metal brushing your skin with surprising tenderness. His thumb swept over your cheekbone. “More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. And I can’t—I won’t—pretend I’m okay with this. You and Yelena being friends? Fine. Hell, she’s my friend, too. But knowing she gets to touch you, kiss you?” His muscles tightened, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely more than a whisper. “It’s… killing me.”  

The crack in his voice shattered something inside you. 

Yelena was your past. Bucky was your future.  

You hadn’t wanted to admit it to yourself before, afraid of what it would mean. But now, with him laying himself bare before you, there was no denying it anymore. 

You were in love with him.

Your hand moved to cover where it rested on your cheek, pressing it closer as if anchoring yourself to the moment. You leaned into his touch, your voice trembling when you finally spoke. “Bucky,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t realise—”  

He shook his head, silencing you with a soft, reassuring touch of his thumb over your lips. “You don’t have to explain,” he said, his voice steady now. “I just need to know where I stand. Where we stand.”  

You took a deep breath, your chest heaving. “I loved her,” you admitted, the words tasting bittersweet as they left your mouth. “But not like I love you. Not even close.”  

His eyes widened slightly, his lips. He looked almost stunned, as if he hadn’t dared to believe he could hear those words from you. Slowly, his expression softened, and a small, cautious smile began to spread across his face.  

“You love me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you nodded, smiling despite the lump in your throat. You nodded with a certainty you’ve never felt before. “I think I have for a while.”  

“I love you too,” he said. It’s like the confession wrapped around your heart and refused to let go.  

He pulled you closer then, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but casual. It was fiery and lingering, filled with everything that had been building between you for months. His hands holding you like you were something precious, something he couldn’t bear to let slip away.  

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I want you all to myself.”

“I want us, too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t know how to tell her.”

Bucky’s hand cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin.“You don’t have to tell her anything,” he whispered gently, “It’s about us. It’s always been.”

“Okay,” you whispered, the promise slipping out before you could stop it. 

And you meant it.

—

That was how you found yourself dodging Yelena’s calls.

It started innocently enough. The first time she called, she asked if you wanted to come over—just another casual thing, nothing serious. You had spent so many nights like that with her, but now, you didn’t want to.

"Sorry, I can’t," you’d said, trying to sound casual, "I’m... busy."

"Busy?" Yelena repeated, her tone skeptical. "You’re never too busy for this."

"I am now," you replied vaguely, refusing to give away any details.

The next time she called, it was the same. 

You tried to feign a vague excuse, and she pressed you for more, her voice laced with confusion and… maybe a little hurt. But you kept deflecting, not knowing how to answer her questions. Not knowing how to break it to her that someone else had taken up more and more space in your heart. And that someone else happened to be Bucky.

By the time the third night rolled around, you were back at Bucky’s apartment, his arms wrapped around you like a cosy wool blanket on a winter night. You were curled up on his couch, watching a movie.

You were still adjusting to… all this, but it felt right. It was easier to breathe in his arms than it had been anywhere else.

That’s when your phone buzzed on the coffee table. You didn’t need to check the screen to know who it was. 

Yelena. 

You didn’t move. 

Bucky shifted slightly, his eyes flicking over to the phone. An encouraging smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Not gonna answer?” he asked.

You stared at the phone, and for a brief second, you felt the pressure born out of guilt and indecision. 

“I... can’t,” you muttered, a frown tugging at your mouth. You reached for your phone, swiping it to silent without even checking the message that came after. “I’m running out of excuses,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, like you were confessing a secret you weren’t entirely ready to face.

Bucky sighed, and he propped himself up on the armrest. "We… can’t keep running from this forever." he said gently. His hand moved to your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. 

Sometimes, you had to remind yourself that he felt the guilt, same as you. Yelena was his friend, too.

“I know.”

It was hard. So hard. Because you had built this history with Yelena, a bond that ran deep even if it wasn’t entirely healthy in the past. You’d been through so much with her— the endless missions and the red room, so many years of laughter and arguments.

But this... what you had with Bucky was new, exciting. 

And he was everything you needed that Yelena couldn’t be. 

He was good for you. And you hoped one day Yelena would find someone that was good for her, too. 

—

The next day, Bucky met Yelena in training.  

Yelena and Bucky sparred often— it was part of their job. 

Most of their matches ended with both of them sprawled on the mats, bruised, breathless, and begrudgingly (yet playfully) respectful of the other's skill.  

But today was different.  

Today, Yelena was distracted.  

Bucky noticed it immediately— the split-second delays in her reactions, the weird openings she left in her defense. By the third round, he had swept her leg cleanly out from under her. Again. 

He wasn’t one to gloat, but it was rare to get the better of her so decisively.  

“Something on your mind?” he asked, tossing her a water bottle as she sat up. 

He’d learned to read Yelena like a map over their time working together, and worse— he had a feeling he already knew the answer.  

Yelena caught the bottle one-handed, wiping her brow with the other. She hesitated, only for a second.

Finally, she spoke.  

“You’re a guy who sleeps with girls, right?”  

Bucky blinked, startled by the bluntness of her question. He knew exactly where this was going, but he couldn’t stop now.

“Uh... last time I checked.” He narrowed his eyes, gulping. “Why?”  

Yelena didn’t answer right away. She rose to her feet and began pacing across the mats.

“Good,” she said. “Maybe you’ll understand.” She stopped, sighing in defeat. “I think she’s... seeing someone else.”  

Bucky froze, his muscles tensing as if bracing for impact. He didn’t need her to clarify who she was. Yelena’s only ever talked about one person with this much care— you.

Bucky forced himself to keep his expression neutral. Taking a long sip from his water bottle, he said, “That’s not illegal.” His voice was almost teasing, but there was a flicker of guilt in his tone—one Yelena hadn’t noticed. Yet.

“I know,” Yelena snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “But it’s weird. She rarely ever turns me down… And now—three times? Three! She’s my friend. She wouldn’t just... get into a relationship and leave me in the dark. Not after everything we’ve been through. If she was serious about someone, she’d tell me.”  

Bucky leaned back against the ropes, considering his words carefully. “You sure about that?” he asked.

Yelena stopped pacing abruptly and turned to him.

Wait.

His tone had been too casual. Too measured.

Her instincts kicked in, and suspicion crept into her brain.  

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?” she asked, taking a step closer.  

Bucky met her glare head-on. He knew he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say the truth aloud. Not without you. “Not my place to say.”  

“That’s not a no,” Yelena said flatly, disappointed.

Bucky didn’t flinch. “She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Yelena,” he reminded. “She’s free to make her own choices.”  

Yelena’s fist clenched, trying to piece together the puzzle. 

That’s when she noticed the changes in you lately—how you seemed… happier. She’d noticed how much time you’d been spending with…

Bucky. 

Now, his defensive answers only confirmed what she’d been unwilling to see for herself.  

She didn’t press any further, but she made up her mind. If Bucky wasn’t going to give her answers, she’d get them herself.

—

You answered the phone when Yelena called that night.  

You knew you couldn't keep avoiding her, no matter how much you wanted to.  

“You’re in the neighborhood?” you asked, holding the phone to your ear as you tugged on Bucky’s t-shirt, the clothing dropping past your thighs on you.  

“Mmhm,” Yelena hummed, her voice deceptively casual. “Figured I’d stop by. Catch up. It’s been a while.”  

“Don’t.”  

The single word cut across the line.

Fuck. 

“Why?”

“I can’t,” you said, glancing over at Bucky.  

He was sprawled on your couch, shirtless, his chest still glistening from the sweat of your… strenuous activities. He looked completely relaxed, his head tilted back against the cushions. When he caught your eye, he gave you a small, lazy smile.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Yelena asked, her voice carrying the strain of a warning.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat before you forced them out. “I’m with someone.”  

The silence on the other end of the line stretched too long. You were unwilling to admit with who. 

“Who’s that, doll?” Bucky called out mindlessly as he changed the channels of the TV.

Your blood ran cold. 

Fuckfuckfuck.

She must have heard that, right?

Yelena didn’t speak immediately, but when she did, it sounded like she was holding back a sob. “Bucky?”  

You winced, closing your eyes briefly as if it would soften the blow. “Yes.” You gripped the edge of the counter to steady yourself, your heart pounding out of your ribcage.

“Oh,” Yelena finally said. It was just a single syllable, but you could feel it: the hurt, the resignation. So you braced yourself for the explosion you thought was coming.  

But it didn’t come.  

Instead, she asked, carefully, “Does he treat you well?”  

W-what?

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation.  

Yelena was silent again for a moment, but you could feel her processing. She wasn’t stupid. Bucky told you of their conversation in the gym this morning and by now, she’d probably already guessed.  

It was bitter. But it wasn’t unexpected. And now that it was confirmed… Yelena felt strangely relieved.

She didn’t hate you. She didn’t even blame you. If anything, she was glad. If she couldn’t have you, at least it was Bucky. Someone she trusted to protect you when she couldn’t. Someone she knew would love you with the same ferocity she once had.  

She let out a long breath she didn't realise she was holding. “Good,” she said finally. “Tell Barnes I’ll kill him if he breaks your heart.”  

A surprised laugh bubbled up from your chest before you could stop it. Oh god. She’s okay. We’re okay, you thought. “I’ll let him know.”  

—

Yelena sat in her car after hanging up, staring out at the empty street. A part of her wanted to hate you both, to be fucking angry at how unfair it had been. She introduced you to him, for fuck’s sake, doesn’t she deserve love, too? 

She gripped the steering wheel tightened, her knuckles white. She had held on to you for too long, hoping that somehow, against all odds, you would remember what it felt like to love her again.

But you hadn’t. And now you never would.  

She could hate you, she could hate Bucky, but what would be the point? What good would it do to keep feeding a fire that only burned her? 

Besides, she loved you both too much— as friends— to hold on to this grudge. 

Deep down, she knew this was her sign— it was the universe finally giving her the permission to move on. 

The street remained empty, and for the first time, she saw it for what it was: a blank canvas, not a void.

—

Back in your apartment, Bucky reached for you with his adorable grabby hands motion. “Everything good?” he asked.

You nodded, climbing onto the couch and curling up beside him, your head resting against his chest. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. 

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Everything’s good.”  

You’d tell him about the conversation tomorrow—if Yelena didn’t bring it up herself during the karaoke night that the three of you had planned. 

But for now, you just wanted this. You just wanted him.  

-end.

General Bucky taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added) :

@hotlinepanda @snflwr-vol6 @ruexj283 @2honeybees @read-just-cant

@winchestert101 @shanksstrawhat @mystictf @globetrotter28 @thebuckybarnesvault

@read-just-cant @winchestert101 @shanksstrawhat @mystictf @globetrotter28

@scariusaquarius @reckless007 @hextech-bros

January Posting Schedule taglist :

@starsmoonn @my-mind-is-incognito 

[angywritesstuff]

That's my Girl

Jay Halstead x Reader

You've been with Jay since your daughter was a baby and he loves her like she was his own. When your ex winds up back in Chicago and comes looking to play dad Jay isn't backing down.

“Daddy” you heard Vivian giggle as Jay scooped her up, tickling under her arms. “How was your day, baby girl?” She went into telling him about preschool, stumbling over a few words here and there but he listened like it was the most important thing in the world.

Times like this you swore you fell in love with Jay all over again. You weren't sure how he'd handle the fact of you being a single mom the day he asked you out, especially considering at that time she'd barely hit seven months.

He handled it in stride, making some dates to include her and paying your sister to babysit (even though she'd do it for free) so some dates would be just the two of you.

It took you months to trust him enough to open your heart, your ex Paul Victors cheated on you midway through your pregnancy. You had actually come in from the gender scan to find him in bed with another woman, the bed you'd bought.

Everyone at med was there for you, supporting you and keeping him from coming anywhere around you. When Paul had come in one day after you'd come back from maternity leave and wouldn't leave that was how you met Jay, Will called him.

_________________

Jay was everything your Paul wasn't. He was the type of man that could make you feel like everything was going to work out by giving you one of those smiles you adored. He always tried to show kindness where he could, to protect those who needed it. When his anger did flare it up it was never without reason and never pointed at you.

He was patient in the fact that you'd been hurt and that Vivian came first in your life. The first time you slept with him you were fairly certain he'd been more nervous than you.

The way he touched you, kissed you, whispered how beautiful you were…you knew then it wouldn't be long before Jay would own your heart completely.

_________________

The day Jay proposed to you he'd also made a promise to always be there for Vivian. Your wedding was in a few months and Jay was in the process of officially adopting her. Your stomach was in knots over the fact that you had to legally send a notice to Paul's last known address because he had signed the birth certificate.

Jay turned to look at you with a smile, Vivian dangling from his neck “What ya say mommy? Can we get pizza?” You nodded “Of course. If that's what little miss wants” he grinned and turned to sit her on her feet “Ok sweetheart. Go get your jacket” she grinned up at him “Ok daddy” and ran towards her room.

You watched her go then felt him pull you into his arms “You're overthinking Mrs Halstead” you cut your eyes up at him, his blue eyes holding you in place “I just don't want him messing up my life again. I'm happy” a smile slipped onto his face “You're engaged to a detective baby. You have all of the twenty first backing you. He won't come near you or her. The adoption will go through and you both will be Halsteads by the end of the year”

You shook your head “I love you Jay” he pulled you into a kiss, speaking against your lips “I love you too”

You were walking out to your car, talking to Will. He was planning to come over for him and Jay to watch the game that weekend and was asking what food he could bring “Not for you and Jay, for my niece”

You laughed lightly “She has Jay's appetite” both of his eyebrows shot up “God help us” you were almost to your car but stopped in your tracks when you spotted the orange carnation on the windshield.

Will didn't notice the flower but knew something was wrong. “Hey, what is it?” He followed your line of sight and saw the flower “Who's that from?” He asked and you barely got out “Paul”

_____________

When Jay rolled up Hailey barely got the car to a stop before he was out. “Did he come near you? I sent Kev and Kim to pick her up. I'll fucking kill him”

He pulled you into his arms after visibly checking you for injuries. “I'm ok Jay just a little freaked out” he nodded “It's ok. I'll take care of it. I'll get Voight to put a patrol on her school, we'll alert hospital security and we'll keep an eye out for him”

“He's not gonna get near her or you” Hailey assured you with a smile. You nodded, laying your head over on Jay's chest.

You were young when you got pregnant with Vivian and had done a lot of stupid shit. You'd been honest with Jay, of course but what if it was brought up in court?

What if your daughter's life was ruined because of decisions you'd made?

_______________

A few days later you got a call from Jay to meet him and Vivian's school. The patrol car had to stop Paul from entering. He'd ran before Jay got there however.

You stood in the middle of the floor intelligence used at the twenty first precinct holding Vivian in your arms. You knew you were safe here, she was safe but the thought of him trying to take her still had you shaken.

Voight walked up behind you and gently touched your back “Sweetheart, why don't you and her take my office?” You cut your eyes at Jay who nodded so you smiled “Thank you” and walked towards the office, closing the door behind yourself to sit on the leather couch.

____________

“We're finding this asshole right?” Adam asked as soon as the office door was closed and Jay nodded “Oh yeah but whoever finds him first doesn't lay a finger on him. You don't scare my fiance and threaten to take my daughter”

Voight nodded “Kim, stay here with her and Vivian. I've got to talk to a few people. If I'm needed to clean anything up, call me Halstead”

________________

“Paul Victors..drunk and disorderly…resisting arrest..minor possession charges…big jump to attempted kidnapping” Adam spoke as he walked up behind him in the bar they'd tracked him to.

“That's my daughter” he argued and Kevin's hand came to rest of his neck “Let's walk outside my man”

The two of them walked him out between them. Jay and Hailey stood against the wall. The moment he saw Jay he tried to run but Kevin pushed him towards Jay who grabbed him by the collar and slammed him back against the wall.

“You scared the woman I love, you threatened my daughter” Hailey kept an eye on the people around to ensure no one was paying too much attention while Kevin and Adam kept an eye on the bar.

“She's my dau..” Paul didn't get anything else out before Jay's fist hit his stomach “MY daughter” Paul coughed hard “You son of a bitch”

“Did you spit on my partner?” Hailey asked and Jay nodded, wiping his face like Paul had “He did”

Adam tsk tsked “That's assault Paul” and grabbed his cuffs.

Paul was taken to holding while the unit came back up to find you, Kim and Vivian playing a game in Voight's office.

“Hey baby” Jay greeted, pressing a kiss to your lips then kissed Vivian's forehead “Hey baby girl”

You raised an eyebrow at him and he winked at you “C'mon. We gotta meet Voight” “What about her?” You asked, looking at Vivian.

“We got her” Kim assured you so you let Jay pull you to your feet. “Where are we going?” You asked him on the stairs. He whispered “Voight pulled a Voight baby. That's all you need to know”

Voight called in a few favors he was owed. You and Jay ended up meeting with a judge in his chambers. “Jay if you sign here Vivian will officially be your daughter”

You felt his left hand slip around your waist as his right picked up the pen “I love you” he kissed the top of your head then leaned down and signed the paper.

Voight stood to the side, watching. “Congrats Jay” Jay smiled “Thanks Hank”

Hank looked at you “Now you just gotta get the Halstead last name” “What about Paul?” You asked and Jay shrugged “Platt took care of that. He's leaving Chicago. Only way to not face charges”

“I'm free?” You asked and Jay pulled you into his arms “We're free. Let's go get our daughter”

[angywritesstuff]

Loose Ends

Summary : Your husband, Bucky Barnes, finally meets your multiversal best friend, Wade Wilson.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x multiverse traveller!reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : Fluff. Mentions of Bi!reader. Sexual references. Canon-typical Deadpool banter. Best friend!Wade (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count : 4.6k

Note : I loved writing Wade dialogues. @marvel I have a whole document of Deadpool oneliners after writing this so hmu lol. MCU timeline is referred to as 616. This has been renamed from the January Schedule Post. The original title was “missing pieces” but I think this feels more right! Enjoy!

The multiverse was infinite, chaotic, and unpredictable, and for most of your life, it was home. You weren’t born in 616—but your home universe had been destroyed when you were very young. Your life had been a constant or travelling universes and timelines since the day you discovered your ability to hop between them.  

At first, it was an accident—a desperate, unexplainable reaction during a moment of danger. You were barely old enough to understand what had happened when you ripped yourself from your original reality and landed in a completely different one. 

The sensation was terrifying: your body felt like it had been pulled apart at the seams, stitched back together in the wrong places, and then smoothed out with sandpaper.

For years, you became a nomad, leaping from universe to universe, trying to survive in places that didn’t always make sense. You learned to fight. You learned to blend in. You became friends with mutants, gods, and space-faring explorers. You fought alongside rebels, helped topple tyrants, and saved a few realities in the process.  

And that’s where Wade Willson came in.  

His universe, Earth-10005, was a jumping point to many other universes, so you were there often. 

One day… you crossed paths with him.

Somehow, the two of you ended up handcuffed together, dodging explosions, assassins, and angry mutant job bosses for days on end. Wade was loud, obnoxious, and a little too comfortable talking about bodily fluids, but he also made you laugh—something you hadn’t done in a long time. By the time you both made it out alive, Wade declared himself your “multiversal BFF,” and you didn’t have the heart to tell him no.  

For years, you stuck together. As you bounced  between realities, you would always visit Wade and Blind Al every time you had a day off. Wade was the one constant in your ever-changing life, and despite his endless stream of inappropriate jokes, you trusted him with your life.  

But dimension-hopping wasn’t just exhausting—it was dangerous. The toll it took on your body and mind grew worse with every leap. At first, it was just migraines and nausea. Then came the memory lapses, the hallucinations, the moments where you weren’t sure which universe you were in. Every jump felt like tearing yourself apart and stitching yourself back together with thread that was just a little thinner than before.  

You started to wonder if you’d ever be able to stop. 

Then you landed on Earth-616.  

You’d met heroes before—so many that it felt like you couldn’t throw a rock without hitting one—but there was something different about this world. 

Something different about him.

Meeting Bucky Barnes wasn’t love at first sight.  

You had been tracking some idiot with access to stolen Stark tech who had decided to play warlord, and just accidentally ran into Captain America and The Winter Soldier. 

Bucky had taken one look at you, muttered something about “another goddamn wildcard,” and kept his distance.  

You didn’t blame him. Trust didn’t come easily to someone like Bucky, and you weren’t exactly an open book yourself. But somewhere between dodging explosions and dismantling killer drones, the two of you found common ground.  

It started small—quiet conversations during downtime, a shared drink after a mission. He didn’t ask too many questions about your past, and you didn’t pry into his. But there was something about Bucky that made you want to stay. For once, you weren’t itching to leap to the next universe.  

You didn’t realize how much he meant to you until you stopped hopping altogether.  

The decision wasn’t easy. Giving up universe-hopping felt like giving up a piece of yourself. But every time you looked at Bucky, every time you thought about the life you could have here, it felt worth it.  

Meeting Bucky Barnes was the final nail in your coffin when you made the decision to stay. He was steady in all the ways you never had been, and you adored him for it. You fell in love fast and hard, and for the first time in your chaotic life, you settled down. Now you were semi-retired—a "break-glass-in-case-of-emergency" kind of hero, and you preferred it that way. You even took a protege in America Chavez— always very careful to tell her to avoid hopping unless absolutely necessary— after all, your side effects probably only happened because you were overusing your abilities— jumping realities every other day.

But there were loose ends and missing pieces, one in particular: Wade Wilson.

You never said goodbye. You couldn’t. Telling him, the merc who had grown to be a brother to you, that you could not see him again would break your heart, besides, you weren’t sure your mind would survive it. You left him behind without a word. You figured he’d understand, or at least get distracted by something shiny before he could hold a grudge. 

Turns out, you were wrong.

—

One night, doorbell rang.  

You and Bucky exchanged a glance. It was late—too late for visitors, and just the right time for enemies. And you and Bucky had made a lot of enemies.

You reached for the knife tucked into the block on the counter, while Bucky’s hand brushed against the pistol he kept stashed in a kitchen drawer.  

When you opened the door, you didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or slam it shut. 

So you slammed it shut. Hard.

“Who is it?” Bucky asked from behind you.

You turned to your husband, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the absurdity standing just outside your front door. “Step back for a second,” you said, raising a hand to calm him. “Let me handle this first.”

Bucky hesitated, his eyes flicking to the door and then back to you. Slowly, he lowered the gun. “You sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” you replied. And because he trusted you—completely and without question—he nodded, stepping out of the way.

Taking a steadying breath, you opened the door again. And there he was.

Wade Wilson. Deadpool. The Merc with a Mouth. He was decked out in his full red-and-black suit, the unmistakable adamantium twin katanas crossed over his back, and a frankly excessive number of guns strapped to his thighs. A duffel bag slung over one shoulder looked suspiciously heavy, probably filled with even more weapons—or snacks. With Wade, it could go either way. Or both.

“You—you—you LEFT! I’ve been looking for you for five fucking years!” Wade’s voice cracked with a mix of anger and relief as he stood in front of you, his hands gesturing wildly. “You didn’t call! You didn’t text! I was worried sick! And now—”

Before you could react, he pulled you into a crushing bear hug, squeezing like he was afraid you’d disappear again. His red suit smelled faintly of gunpowder, sweat, and something suspiciously like old tacos.

“Wade—” you tried, your voice muffled against his chest.

“No, no, don’t ‘Wade’ me!” he cut you off, releasing you just as suddenly as he’d grabbed you and beginning to pace across the porch. “Do you know how long I looked for you? I had to bribe a Watcher, for fuck’s sake— with four chimichangas and a rare Pokémon card just to get a lead. FOUR! And I didn’t even get to eat one of them!”

He stopped and whirled around to face you, his hands on his hips like an exasperated parent.

“Wow,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms and leaning casually against the doorframe. “What a sacrifice.”

Wade’s head snapped toward you, and through the expressive eyes of his mask, you could tell he was glaring. He jabbed a finger in your direction. “Don’t you sass me, young lady.”

“‘Young lady?’” you repeated, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smirk. “What are you, my dad?”

“More like your cooler, better-looking big brother,” Wade shot back, straightening up and puffing out his chest. “Who you abandoned, by the way.”

“I didn’t abandon you,” you said, trying to keep your cool despite the guilt that started to creep in. “I just… retired. And forgot to tell you.”

He groaned, throwing his arms in the air. “Do you know how many terrible jokes I’ve had to tell to Peter because you weren’t around to laugh at them?”

You bit back a laugh. “Do you know how many terrible jokes I avoided because I wasn’t around to hear them?”

Wade gasped so dramatically you half-expected him to swoon. His hand flew to his chest as though you’d stabbed him with one of his own katanas. “Wow. Wow. That was low, even for—oh my god, is that a wedding ring?”

His voice hit a pitch that could shatter glass, and you instinctively hid your hand behind your back, like a kid caught sneaking your mouth full of cookies. “Um… yes?”

Wade’s eyes widened—or rather, the exaggerated white circles on his mask made it seem like they did. “YOU’RE MARRIED?!” he screeched, his voice breaking into octaves that would make a soprano jealous. “Married?!” He repeated, staggering back like the mere concept had physically assaulted him. “Who’s the lucky sucker. Is it Thor? Please tell me it’s Thor. I’ve always wanted to be the cool uncle to a little demigod baby. Imagine the family reunions—me teaching a tiny hammer-wielding munchkin how to blow stuff up. Incredible.”

“Wade—” you tried, but the train had left the station, and it wasn’t stopping for anyone.

“No, no, wait. Let me guess!” he said, thrusting a finger in the air like a detective cracking the case. “Steve Rogers? Nah, too noble. He’d insist on taking you on, like, a billion proper dates before even thinking about proposing. Clint Barton? No way, the dude’s got more kids than bullets in Quicksilver. Oh!” He spun around, gasping as though struck by divine inspiration. “Is it Black Widow? Oh, wait. No. Been there, done that.”

“Wade!” you said sharply, grabbing his arm before he could start naming literally everyone in the Avengers roster. “Stop.”

He froze mid-ramble, turning to you with exaggerated curiosity. “What? Who is it? Is it Vision? Please say it’s not Vision. I mean, I’m not kinkshaming, but the guy’s basically a walking USB drive.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose and opened the door a bit wider. “Just— look.”

Wade tilted his head. And there, standing behind you, with his arms crossed, was Bucky Barnes. He was watching the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and confusion, his metal fingers tapping a steady rhythm against his bicep. You’ve told Bucky about Wade, of course, but you didn’t think he’d actually meet him. “So,” he began, “this is Wade.”

“Wow,” Wade whispered, his voice dropping to a reverent hush as he took in the sight before him. He turned back to you, his hands flapping excitedly like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You mean to tell me,” Wade began, pacing uninvited into your living room as if he owned the place. He dropped a duffel bag on the floor with a dramatic flourish and pressed one hand over his heart like he was delivering a Shakespearean monologue. “That you, my best interdimensional buddy, married this glorious hunk of beef and vibranium?”

You sighed, shutting the door behind him. You supposed Wade was just here now. No going back.

Bucky, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, raised an unimpressed brow but didn’t seem particularly bothered. “You’re laying it on pretty thick, pal.”

“Thick?” Wade echoed, whirling around to face Bucky with wide eyes as if he had personally offended him. “Thick doesn’t even begin to cover it. This—this right here—is grade-A, USDA-approved beefcake. We’re talking prime rib, Winter Soldier.”

He took a step back and began circling Bucky, appraising him like a contestant at a county fair judging show ponied. His movements were exaggerated, tapping his chin thoughtfully. 

“Wade,” you said, voice tight as you rubbed your temples, though you must admit: you kinda missed this typical Deadpool nonesense. “Please.”

But Wade was on a roll now. “And the hair!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air like he’d just discovered the eighth wonder of the world. He gestured wildly to Bucky’s slightly tousled, shoulder-length locks. “What is this? A shampoo commercial? A romance novel cover? I mean, look at this man! He’s like Rapunzel’s broody assassin cousin!”

Bucky’s lips twitched ever so slightly, and you caught the faintest hint of a smirk forming.

But Wade wasn’t done yet. He leaned in close to Bucky’s face, squinting dramatically like he was examining a masterpiece in a gallery. “And those eyes. Piercing icy blue! Are they legal? Tell me, do you smolder like this on purpose, or is it just natural?”

“Wade,” you warned again, burying your face in your hands. You were halfway between mortification and resignation, but Wade was completely oblivious—or just didn’t care.

He spun back to you, pointing an accusatory finger. “Be honest with me. Every morning, do you wake up, roll over, and thank god you’re alive to witness his Magnum Opus?”

Bucky snorted, finally breaking his silence. He glanced at you, his eyes sparkling with thinly veiled amusement. “Is he always like this?” he asked.

“Yes,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “And somehow, it’s worse when he’s complimenting people.”

“And the voice!” Wade continued, throwing his hands in the air. “Oh my god, that gravelly, low, I’ve-seen-some-shit tone. Say something, Soldier Boy. Anything. Just talk to me.”  

Bucky blinked, clearly caught between humoring Wade and being mildly uncomfortable. “Something.”  

Wade gasped as if he’d just heard angels sing. “Jesus Christ, that did things to me.”  

“Paws off my husband,” you said, swatting Wade’s shoulder.  

“Seriously,” Wade said, crouching in front of Bucky like he was about to propose. “What’s it like being this hot? Is it a burden?”

Bucky was starting to smirk.  

“Look at this!” Wade said, standing up and gesturing broadly to Bucky. “Broad shoulders. Stupidly dainty waist. Those thighs could crush my skull, and I’d thank him for it.”  

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “Should I be flattered or worried?”  

“Flattered,” Wade said immediately. “I’m harmless. Mostly.” He turned to you. “You lucky bitch. You bagged a walking wet dream. How?” He demanded, “Blackmail? Hypnosis? Some ancient magic spell?”  

“I’m charming,” you deadpanned.  

“You know what? I get it,” Wade declared, pacing around your living room like a man on a mission. He waved a hand in Bucky’s general direction, as though he were appraising a luxury car. “I’d retire too if I got to be railed by this Terminator daily.”  

You slapped a hand over your face, your skin heating with embarrassment. “Wade…”  

He ignored you completely, flopping onto your couch as if it had been personally reserved for him. He peeled his mask up sad put it on the coffee table. “This is definitely an upgrade from your exes.”  

Your face flushed further, frustration bubbling up alongside the mortification. Bucky had never heard of this before. It’s  not like it mattered, these were all people in different universes, after all. “I’m warning you—”  

Bucky, meanwhile, casually sat down on the sofa across from Wade, one arm draped along the backrest. He looked calm, eyes gleaming with amusement. You plopped into the armchair, already feeling the headache forming.  

But Wade wasn’t done. “No, no,” He gestured wildly toward Bucky with both hands, his tone becoming even more conspiratorial. “Let’s talk about this. Because, Beefcake, you need to know where you stand. You’re miles better than the disasters she used to date.”  

Bucky crossed his arms, smirking faintly. He was enjoying this was too much. “Oh, yeah?”  

“Lets start a with President Loki,” Wade replied with a grin that practically split his face. He spun dramatically to face you, eyes wide with mock disbelief. “Imagine a gold-plated turd sprouted legs and started giving speeches. Her first mistake was thinking he had a personality under all that ego. Her second mistake was sticking around long enough to find out he didn’t.”  

Bucky arched an eyebrow at you, tilting his head slightly. “President Loki?”  

You groaned, rubbing your temples as if that could erase the memory. “It’s… complicated.”  

Wade snorted, adjusting the strap of one of his katanas. “Next up: Mystique,” he continued. “Gorgeous smurf, obviously. Great for roleplay, but terrible for trust. I mean, she’s a shapeshifter. Talk about an identity crisis.”

Bucky let out a chuckle, his shoulders shaking slightly. “She sounds… interesting.”  

“Interesting?” Wade repeated, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation. “Oh, I’m just getting started. Let’s talk about Johnny Storm.” He faced you again, gesturing wildly like a frustrated dad. “The Human Torch? The guy whose entire personality is setting himself on fire? Sure, he was pretty, but the dude had the emotional depth of a kiddie pool.”  

Bucky smirked now, openly entertained. “Are there others?”  

Wade’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with unholy glee. “Oh, there were others. Oh- oh! Rogue and Gambit?” He turned to Bucky, lowering his voice to a faux-whisper. “At the same time. It’s like watching a soap opera unfold in real time.”  

Bucky was laughing outright now. “And you’re saying I’m the upgrade?”  

“Oh, beefcake,” Wade said, leaning in. “Not just an upgrade. You’re the crème de la crème. Like season five of Breaking Bad—pretty fucking perfect. You’re probably the healthiest, most emotionally available person she’s ever been with.”  

“Stop,” you groaned, sinking deeper into the cushions and wishing you could disappear completely.  

“Oh, please don’t,” Bucky teased, his lips curving into a charming grin. “Explains a lot, actually. No wonder you’re so—”  

“Don’t.”

“Kinky,” Bucky finished, ignoring your warning entirely.  

Wade cackled, his laughter loud and unhinged. “You think she picked it up from her exes?” He leaned in closer to Bucky, stage-whispering, “Beefcake, she didn’t pick up shit from her raccoon trash exes. She’s just built different. Probably came out of the womb with a pair of handcuffs and a ball gag in her mouth.”  

“Wade!” you snapped, your face burning.  

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, and don’t worry. We never banged. Too much like siblings. It’s like if Monica and Ross—” He gagged, pausing to mime vomiting on your carpet. “Blegh. See? Nope.”  

Bucky shook his head, still chuckling. “Good to know.”  

“But listen, Beefcake,” Wade said, clapping his hands together. “If this ever goes south—”  

“Wade,” you warned sharply.  

“—just call me.“  

“WADE!” you snapped, reaching out to smack his arm.  

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Possessive much?”  

“I’m literally right here!”

Wade laughed, throwing up his hands. “Relax, I’m kidding! I’d never steal him. You two are disgustingly perfect for each other.”

“We do make a great couple,” Bucky said smoothly, a hint of pride in his voice. He shot Wade a look, his tone deadpan. “And no offense, you’re not my type.”  

“Ouch?” Wade tilted his head, mockingly intrigued. “What is your type?”  

Bucky turned his gaze to you, his voice softening as he said simply, “Her.”  

For once, Wade was silent. Then he sighed dramatically, collapsing back onto the couch. “Ugh. You two make me sick. I love it.”  

You buried your face in your hands, groaning into your palms. “Why me? Why is this happening to me?”  

Wade, utterly unfazed, asked. “Hey, Beefcake, got any beer?”  

Bucky, who has how seeming embraced hus new nickname, leaned back against the arm of the couch. “Top shelf in the fridge.”  

Without missing a beat, Wade strutted off to the kitchen like he owned the place, humming a Cher song off-key. 

You shot Bucky a glare, your eyes narrowing in exasperation.  

“Really?” you hissed sarcastically, gesturing toward the kitchen. “You’re encouraging this?”  

Bucky shrugged, the picture of calm. “He’s entertaining.”  

Entertaining wasn’t the word you’d use. You leaned back against the cushions, crossing your arms. You were annoyed… but you can’t help but smile. 

Wade reappeared, holding two bottles of beer and popping one open with what looked like a throwing star. He plopped down beside Bucky, handing him a bottle, and pointed at you with the knife.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Wade said to you. “You’re the one who retired, didn’t tell me, and married this sex god. This is all on you.”  

The audacity. You opened your mouth to retort, but Bucky’s low chuckle stopped you in your tracks. You saw the look on your husband’s face, the relaxed posture, the lack of tension in his muscles that he usually had with new people.

Oh no.  

They were bonding.  

Over you.

And… it got worse.  

For the next hour, you sat there in growing horror (and giggles, if you were being honest) as the two of them swapped stories. Wade launched into an over-the-top retelling of the time you “accidentally” blew up a Friends of Humanity base, leaving out the part where he’d distracted you mid-mission with a ridiculous bet.

By the time Wade sprawled across your couch, feet on the coffee table and an empty beer bottle in hand, you were ready to choke the ever living shit out of both if them.

“And then she just left me on Earth-10005 because she was ‘too busy’ dealing with a rogue celestial,” Wade commented, throwing a hand over his heart. “Too busy for me. Can you believe it?”  

Bucky, sitting comfortably in the armchair, glanced at you with a teasing smile. “Sounds about right.”  

“Hey!” you protested, leaning forward. “That celestial was about to eat the moon!”

Wade wagged a finger at you. “Sure, sure, always saving the world. What about saving me?”He looked at Bucky for support, widening his eyes dramatically.  

Bucky snorted. 

You glared between the two of them, crushing under your breath. 

But dinner rolled around, and things didn’t get any better.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Wade said as he finished dinner leaning so far forward over the table he nearly tipped his chair. “You’re telling me she punched a god because she thought they were just a really smug human?”  

Bucky raised an eyebrow, fighting back a gig of laughter. “It’s true. Happened on our second date.”  

“Oh, for the love of—” you groaned. “You’re both the worst,” you slumped in your seat. “I hate both of you,” you muttered, glaring at Bucky.  

Bucky leaned over, brushing a hand against yours with a teasing smile. “No, you don’t.”  

That night, you decided to let Wade crash on your couch. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice—he was sprawled on the couch, snoring loud enough to wake the neighbours, and there was no moving him to the guest bed without a forklift. Besides, you secretly loved seeing your best friend and your husband bond (even if it had been at your expense).

But as you slipped into bed, Bucky pulled you into his arms. His metal arm gripped your waist, his other hand stroked a lazy pattern on your back. He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple.

“I love you, doll,” he murmured.

You sighed, nestling closer to him, the smell of him—vanilla and a bit woodsy—filled your lungs. “I love you, too.”  

Bucky chuckled, a low rumble forming in his chest. “Gotta say, glad to finally meet your… ‘bestie’.”  

You groaned, flipping to face him.

“Hmmph,” you muttered, half-buried in his chest.  

“Admit it,” He chuckled, pulling you closer. “You’re happy we get along.”  

You tilted your head back to meet his eyes, pretending to pout. “Whatever.”  

He arched a brow. He knew you inside and out and there was no point trying to hide anything from the man who could tell you were lying but the way your eyes moved. “You’re very happy about it,” he insisted.

You huffed, but your lips curved up. “Maybe. Just a little.”  

“Thought so,” he teased, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. His thumb brushed your cheek as he moved his mouth against yours.

When you finally pulled back, his blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “So… President Loki, huh?” He teased. He was aware of your multiversal travel, but he never pried before, not unless you started the conversation.

Your eyes widened and you groaned, face disappearing under the blankets. “Don’t even start.”  

He gently pried the duvet away, his grin wickedly handsome. “Come on. I bet he was self-absorbed.” 

You glared at him. “Yes,” you admitted, “of course.”

“Guess that I-Can-Fix-Him attitude didn’t work with him as well as he worked with me, huh?” He raised his eyebrow. 

“Ugh,” you shook your head and smacked his chest as he leaned in to nip at your lower lip.  

After a while, he asked. “So… I’m better in bed, right?”  

You raised an eyebrow, was he… jealous?

He tried to conceal it behind a coy smile. 

Yes, he was still partly amused, but you just knew a part of him was just dying to know. 

“Of course,” You said gently, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re the best sex I’ve ever had.”  

His eyes darkened slightly. 

Oh. 

Should you not have said that? Was it going to get into that pretty head of his? “Even better than the shapeshifter?”  

“Way better,” you admitted, and the look on his face was nothing short of triumphant.  

Bucky’s smirk turned downright devilish. “Damn right.”  

You didn’t even have time to protest before he rolled you beneath him, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His hands braced on either side of your head as he leaned down, his breath warm against your lips. “Say it again.”  

“Bucky—”  

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding.  

Your heart raced, your breath hitching as his mouth skimmed along your jawline, planting slow, teasing kisses down your neck. “You’re the best—,” you whispered out a breathy moan, “—I’ve ever had.” 

“Good,” his hand slid beneath your shirt to rest against the curve of your waist. “Because I don’t ever plan on letting you forget it.”  

—

The next morning was somehow even more absurd. 

When you wandered into the kitchen, still groggy from sleep, the first thing you saw was Wade. He was sitting on the table, wearing a pair of Bucky’s sweatpants—comically loose around the thighs—and one of your crop tops, which didn’t even reach his navel. He was cheerfully devouring a stack of pancakes that Bucky had apparently made.  

Bucky turned and kissed you good morning as you entered.  

“Morning, bestie,” Wade said as you plopped down at the table. He pointed his fork at you. “I’ve decided something very important.” 

“Oh, God,” you groaned, rubbing your temples as you slid into a chair at the table. Bucky set a plate of pancakes in front of you before sitting down beside you. “What now?”  

“I’m the godfather of your second child,” Wade announced with the conviction of a man unveiling a revolutionary plan. “It’s decided. No take-backs.”  

You froze mid-reach for the syrup, blinking. Slowly, you turned to Bucky, who looked just as bewildered as you, before turning back to Wade. “We don’t even have a first child.”  

“Exactly,” Wade said, shoving a mouthful of pancake into his mouth. “First kids are always screw-ups. It’s like a trial run. Logan can have that one.”  

“Logan?” Bucky asked, brow furrowing.

“Oh, he’s great,” Wade said, waving his fork dismissively. “Huge, jacked man. Got claws.” He made a stabbing motion with his free hand, as if that explained everything. “I’ll bring him next time.”  

You sighed, shaking your head. Bucky was still staring at Wade like he was a walking question mark, wondering if giving your hypothetical kid a trigger-happy god father was a good idea. 

But this was your life now, and you should have realised that just because you stopped traveling to different multiverses didn’t mean the multiverse would ever stop coming to you.

-end.

extra note: should I open a general Bucky Taglist since I write for him a lot?

Taglist from January Posting Schedule: @mathcat345 @starsmoonn @my-mind-is-incognito

[angywritesstuff]

I looooved Stains! Thank you so much for that and all you do for our mental health in these turbulent times.

Here's another request for your very long list of requests :) Reader and the Mikaelson family are very close friends. She used to have a little fling with Klaus maybe, best friends with Rebekah and so on. Elijah is always shy and Rebekah and Reader are trying to set him up after realizing he's been a monk since his last relationship ended. Elijah is failing hard at all the set-up attempts because he is madly in love with Reader. Eventually, smut ensues :)

Inevitable

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} A playful night of banter leads to Elijah's siblings setting him up on a dating app, but the only match he wants is you...

♡♡ Ahhh!!! Thank you so much, @originals23, for this amazing request! I’ve been stuck in a bit of a writing slump lately (I even scrapped my New Year’s fic... I’m so sorry, I just wasn’t happy with it). But your ideas always light a spark of inspiration for me! Thank you, and I hope you enjoy this! ♡♡

6.9k words - Warnings: smutt, dating apps, drinking, mutual pining, Elijah in a vesttt (hot & underrated), teasing, kissing, oral (m!receiving), super sappy and romantic, mild jealousy, Kol being such a little shit, Klaus being Klaus, Rebekah always trying her best, Elijah being shy and sweet, && some good old-fashioned Mikaelson bullying...

@starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

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@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble @darth-laeka

@sleepmusicland @chaoticfanpeach @prettyinpinkandblack @brunettebri @aerangi

From the moment Kol walked in with a giant bottle of scotch, you knew that tonight was going to be a late one. Rebekah had called you, inviting you over for a drink and some girl time. But Kol and Klaus decided to insert themselves into the mix. You weren’t complaining; the company was good. The Mikaelsons were your closest friends, having met them years ago. Klaus had been a brief fling, but the friendship was what truly stuck.

The playful atmosphere was infectious as you all sat around the living room, laughter bubbling at some joke Klaus made. Kol poured drinks with dramatic flair, teasing Klaus about his awkward blunders with his crush, Camille. Klaus’s glare didn’t faze his younger brother in the slightest.

"I hardly think you have any room to speak. What is the state of your love life? It seems quite nonexistent," Klaus shot back, his tone laced with mock indignation.

Kol, unfazed, chuckled and took a long swig of his drink, shaking his head. "I'd like to think it is quite thriving, thank you very much," he retorted, settling onto the couch. He leaned back smugly before adding, "In fact, I had a date yesterday."

The rest of you murmured in surprise, exchanging knowing looks.

"With who?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you as you sat next to Rebekah. She arched an eyebrow at you, clearly already anticipating Kol’s response.

"This pretty little-" Kol began with a grin, only to be cut off by his sister’s wicked smirk.

"Witch," Rebekah finished for him, and Kol’s laugh was one of agreement rather than embarrassment.

"I suppose I have a type," he admitted with an exaggerated shrug, unbothered by the teasing. His gaze flicked to you, eyes gleaming mischievously. "What about you, love?"

The sudden attention caught you mid-sip, and you glanced at him with a raised brow. "What about me?" you asked, setting your glass down and wiping the excess liquid off your lips.

Kol’s wicked grin widened. "We all know Niklaus has thoroughly disappointed you, so I’m sure you’ve found someone more worthy to keep your bed warm."

Klaus scoffed loudly before you could respond. "Hardly disappointing. We had a grand time," he insisted, smirking at you with a glint of pride.

This time, your playful grin faltered for just a second. The memory of your fleeting fling with Klaus still lingered, though it was far behind you. While the chemistry between you and Klaus had fizzled into camaraderie, you couldn’t help the pang of something unspoken when your thoughts drifted elsewhere…toward another Mikaelson.

You shrugged, masking your thoughts with a casual smile. "Nik did just fine. Better than most of the men I find myself with," you quipped, winking at Klaus. His dimples deepened in a smug grin, clearly satisfied with your answer.

Kol, never one to let a moment slide, laughed heartily. "Those dating apps not doing you any favors, darling?" he taunted, causing you and Rebekah to share a knowing chuckle.

"Here, Kol, see for yourself," you replied, tossing him your phone with a grin that was a mix of challenge and resignation. Kol’s eyes lit up with delight as he caught it effortlessly.

He immediately began swiping through your dating app, his expression shifting between mock horror and glee. Rebekah leaned over his shoulder, giggling at the profiles and messages he unearthed.

"Men these days," Kol lamented dramatically, "back in my day, we wrote poems and courted properly. This is far too impersonal."

You raised an eyebrow, unable to resist. "Is that how you charm all the young witches? With poetry?"

Kol grinned, unabashed. "Oh, I hardly need to do any charming. They fall over themselves for me. It’s quite endearing."

"You are such a womanizer," Rebekah pointed out, shaking her head at Kol. Klaus, surprisingly, nodded in agreement, raising his glass to emphasize the point.

"You know who isn’t?" Kol mused, still swiping through the dating app on your phone. "Elijah."

The mention of Elijah caught your attention, and your curiosity piqued. "When was the last time he was in a relationship?" you asked, genuinely intrigued. You tried to recall, but nothing serious came to mind. Elijah had always seemed… reserved in that regard.

Before Kol or Rebekah could answer, they glanced behind you, their faces lighting up with amusement. You followed their gaze and felt your stomach do a little flip. Elijah had appeared, clad in a crisp white button-down and a tailored vest that seemed to fit him too perfectly for your peace of mind.

He greeted everyone with a polite smile before effortlessly slipping into the seat beside you. As he leaned over and stole your glass, his proximity made your pulse quicken. He took a sip, closing his eyes briefly as if savoring the taste, and then turned his attention to you. 

"It has been a while," he replied smoothly, finally answering your question. "Why do you ask?"

For a moment, you were distracted. Not just by his words, but by the way his shirt hugged his frame and the way his sleeves were rolled up just enough to reveal strong forearms. You realized he was waiting for an answer, and heat rushed to your cheeks.

"I-I… we were wondering when you were going to get back out there," you stammered, your usual composure faltering under his steady gaze. Elijah had a way of doing that, making you nervous in the most exhilarating way.

"It has been a while," he admitted, his voice calm and measured as he shrugged. His siblings, however, were far less composed, their expressions brimming with mischief. "What?" Elijah asked, his tone tinged with suspicion.

"How long? Weeks? Months?" Kol asked, his grin widening. Then, raising his eyebrows with mock disbelief, he added, "Years?"

"None of your business," Elijah replied, a small but unmistakable smile tugging at his lips. His usual composure didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of exasperated fondness in his tone.

"Oh, it's definitely years," Klaus exclaimed with a bark of laughter. "That is quite a long time. I am shocked you have not gone mad." He took a long sip of his drink, smirking over the rim of his glass.

Elijah rolled his eyes, brushing off their jabs with practiced ease. "It hasn’t been that long," he insisted, though his siblings’ skepticism was palpable.

"Sure, sure," Rebekah teased, sharing a conspiratorial glance with Kol. You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at their antics. The Mikaelson siblings were relentless when it came to teasing each other.

"I have an idea," Rebekah said suddenly, a devilish glint in her eye. "Let’s make you a dating profile." Before Elijah could protest, she was already reaching for his phone.

"You are not putting me on a dating website," Elijah said firmly, his brow furrowing as he attempted to grab his phone back. Rebekah, ever the quick one, held it just out of his reach, sticking her tongue out like a mischievous child.

"I think it’s a great idea," Klaus chimed in with a smirk. "You could use the release. Perhaps it will even help dislodge the stick in your ass." His laugh echoed through the room as Elijah retaliated by tossing a throw pillow at him.

Rebekah ignored the commotion and began typing on Elijah’s phone. "Let’s see… what should your bio say?" she mused aloud. Kol leaned over her shoulder, already snickering as he threw out suggestions.

"How about, 'Hi, my name is Elijah Mikaelson: your next regret. I specialize in brooding, being a bore, and eating pus-'" Kol’s suggestion was abruptly cut off by Rebekah’s sharp interruption.

"Too far, Kol!" she scolded, though she could barely suppress her own laughter.

Elijah shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance.

Klaus, having recovered from his own laughter, chimed in, "You forgot, 'Hi, I’m Elijah. Chivalry isn’t dead because I refuse to let it die. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for anyone who crosses my family.'"

For a moment, Elijah gave him the sternest of looks, but then his lips betrayed him, curving into a reluctant smile. You caught the faint crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and it made your heart skip a beat.

"I do just fine without any of this nonsense," he said, gesturing to the phones.

Kol was quick to retort, "Well, clearly that’s not the case if it’s been years since you’ve been laid," his cheeky grin earning a round of laughter from everyone except Elijah.

"Let’s see here," Kol continued, unabashed. "What are you into?"

"You know the answer to that, Kol. It'll be something boring like books and classical music," Rebekah quipped, not even glancing up from the phone as she continued crafting Elijah’s profile.

"Those things aren't boring," you interjected, your tone firmer than you intended. You glanced at Elijah, catching the way his gaze softened in response. He offered you a small, grateful smile, the kind that made your stomach flutter despite yourself.

"Okay, I'm almost done," Rebekah announced, clearly pleased with herself as her fingers danced over the screen. A triumphant grin spread across her face. "There we go! Your profile is all set," she said, tossing his phone back to him.

Elijah caught it effortlessly, letting out a resigned sigh. "This is ridiculous," he muttered, though he dutifully swiped through the profiles, his brows furrowing slightly as he took in the absurdity of it all.

You leaned over his shoulder, your curiosity getting the better of you. His proximity sent a wave of warmth coursing through you, but you focused on the screen. "Look, you’ve got a message already!" you exclaimed, pointing out the flashing notification.

"Oh, please no," he said with a weary shake of his head, clearly dreading whatever awaited him.

"Read it aloud," Rebekah urged, pouring herself another generous glass of scotch, her eyes alight with amusement.

"What’s the point? He’s going to turn them down anyway," Klaus drawled, swirling his drink lazily.

"I’m curious as to what she’s going to say," Kol added, his grin positively wicked as he leaned in for a better look.

"She’s really pretty," you observed, noting the woman’s profile picture. Your tone was meant to sound detached, but a trace of something else…envy?..slipped through. Elijah let out a heavy sigh, his finger hovering over the message before finally opening it.

His cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as he read the text, his usually composed expression betraying a flicker of embarrassment. "You can’t be serious," he murmured, his voice low as he kept his eyes fixed on the screen.

From your angle, you caught enough of the message to know it was... bold. The woman wasn’t shy about what she wanted, and she was eager to meet him later that night. Your chest tightened, an unwelcome pang of jealousy sparking before you quickly brushed it aside.

"Oh, I’m dying to know what it says," Rebekah pressed, leaning closer in her attempt to sneak a look. "What’s her name?"

"Amanda," Elijah muttered, still scrolling through the message as if hoping it would suddenly become more tasteful.

"I bet it’s kinky," Kol teased, his voice dripping with mischief. His grin only widened when Elijah shot him a sharp glare.

"I will not dignify that with a response," Elijah said, slipping his phone back into his pocket with a firm finality. "Besides, I have no desire to go out tonight," he added, finishing his drink in a single, graceful motion.

"Oh, come on," you found yourself saying, nudging him lightly. "She’s gorgeous and looks like a lot of fun. Just meet up with her."

The words felt foreign as they left your lips, like they belonged to someone else entirely. Why were you encouraging him? Perhaps it was the alcohol clouding your judgment, or maybe it was a feeble attempt to appear unaffected. But deep down, the idea of him spending the night with another woman gnawed at you.

"As much as I appreciate the effort, I have no interest," Elijah said, his tone firm but calm. He poured himself another glass of scotch, his movements graceful and unhurried. "Besides, I've never been one for one-night stands."

"Why not? You should live a little," Rebekah mused, her gaze flickering between you two as if sensing the unspoken tension.

"It's not that I don’t enjoy life," Elijah countered, his voice steady. "I simply choose not to act on every impulse."

"So, you've never had a fling? Just for the hell of it?" you asked, genuinely surprised. The thought of someone as composed as Elijah letting go of his control intrigued you.

"I highly recommend it," Klaus interjected, a smirk tugging at his lips as he gave you a knowing look.

You quickly averted your eyes, heat creeping up your neck. You didn’t want Klaus to think his past fling with you still lingered in your mind. Clearing your throat, you forced a casual tone. "Well, it’s just not healthy to go without some kind of release. That’s all I’m saying."

Elijah’s lips curved upward, his expression almost teasing. "I’ve been alive for centuries. I think I’ll manage," he replied, taking a deliberate sip of his drink.

"Alright, alright, well, we tried," Rebekah said with a laugh, effectively steering the conversation elsewhere. Yet, as the banter continued around you, you found it impossible to focus.

Your mind was spinning, refusing to let go of the idea of Elijah… with someone else. You tried to dismiss the thought, but instead, it spiraled into something entirely different. Unbidden, an image of him shirtless, his composure unraveling, flooded your thoughts. The heat that crept up your cheeks was undeniable now.

You attempted to shake it off, but every glance in his direction seemed to pull you deeper. The way his tongue flicked to catch the remnants of scotch on his lips, the slow bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the way his sleeves were rolled just high enough to reveal strong, lean forearms. It was all maddeningly distracting.

But what captivated you most was his smile. Those faint creases around his eyes when he smiled. That smile that was both rare and disarming…made him impossibly handsome. It wasn’t just the smile itself; it was the way it softened his otherwise sharp, controlled features. Those creases hinted at warmth beneath his stoic exterior, and every time you saw them, your heart fluttered.

"(Y/N)?" Rebekah’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts.

"Huh? What?" you asked, blinking rapidly as you looked around the room.

"You’re flushed. Are you alright?" Rebekah asked, concern furrowing her brow.

"I think I’ve had a bit too much," you said quickly, forcing a nervous laugh.

You reached for your phone, desperate for a distraction. Scrolling through your notifications, you tried to focus on something, anything, that wasn’t Elijah. But when you opened the dating app, you froze.

There it was: Elijah’s profile. Rebekah had chosen a group photo for him, zooming in on his face, because the man had never taken a single selfie in his life. He looked effortlessly perfect, dressed in a three-piece suit, his hair slicked back, dimples on display, and his eyes warm yet piercing. Without thinking, your thumb swiped right.

The realization hit you like a freight train when Elijah’s phone buzzed almost immediately. He ignored it at first, leaving it face down on the table as he continued chatting with his siblings. Panic bubbled in your chest. Had you really just… matched with him? With him sitting right next to you? 

Your hands were clammy, your heart racing as another buzz sounded. Elijah reached for his phone casually, swiping it open. His brows furrowed slightly as he read the notification, his expression shifting from confusion to stillness. Then, as if in slow motion, a small smile crept across his face. Those familiar creases at the corners of his eyes deepened, and your breath caught in your throat.

"Well, what does it say?" Kol asked, clearly reveling in the suspense.

Elijah didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slid his phone into his pocket. His eyes met yours, and that small smile widened into something warmer, something that made your chest tighten and your pulse quicken. "Looks like I might have some fun after all," he murmured, his voice low and velvety.

Your heart skipped a beat, and a rush of heat coursed through you. Despite yourself, you couldn’t hide the grin that tugged at your lips. What had you done? And why did his reaction make you feel so… giddy?

"What? Who messaged you?" Rebekah asked.

"It’s nothing," he said dismissively, finishing his drink with a calmness that belied the electricity sparking between you.

"Oh, come on, just tell us!" Klaus pressed, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "Did you receive some nudes?"

Kol chuckled, leaning forward eagerly. "Please say yes."

Elijah rolled his eyes, his expression a mix of exasperation and fond amusement. "No, I did not," he replied, his tone calm but laced with dry humor. The corner of his mouth curved upward ever so slightly.

"You are impossible," Rebekah huffed, crossing her arms. Her annoyance at being left in the dark was clear.

Elijah straightened, adjusting his sleeves with characteristic precision. "This has been fun, but I have to go. Some of us actually have work to do tomorrow," he said smoothly, rising to his feet.

Rebekah rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath as he moved to leave.

"Goodnight," Elijah called, his voice steady as he glanced at each of his siblings. When his gaze finally settled on you, the rest of the room seemed to fade into the background. That magical smile returned, his features softening as his eyes lingered on yours. Your stomach flipped, a warmth spreading through your chest.

"Goodnight," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. There was a tightness in your chest, an anticipation that left you breathless. He lingered a moment longer, his eyes holding yours as if trying to convey something unspoken. Then, with a faint smile and a slight tilt of his head, he turned and disappeared upstairs.

One by one, the remaining Mikaelson siblings retired to their rooms until only you and Klaus were left. The silence between you was comfortable, broken only by the occasional clink of glasses as you both sipped on scotch.

"So," Klaus began, his voice soft as he broke the silence. "Want to go up to my room?" His tone was casual, but there was something thoughtful in his gaze as he regarded you.

You couldn’t deny the pull of his charm or the familiarity between you. It would have been so easy. To let yourself fall into old patterns, to escape into the comfort of his arms and forget everything else. But tonight, something was different.

"Not tonight," you replied with a sad smile, brushing the back of his hand affectionately. "Cami wouldn’t be very happy with you," you teased gently, hoping to lighten the moment.

"Fair enough," he relented, though a flicker of disappointment crossed his features. After a pause, his lips curved into a wry grin. "I guess Elijah wouldn’t approve either."

You blinked, startled by the mention. Before you could respond, Klaus continued, his voice quieter this time. "If there was ever anyone worthy of my brother, it’s you. You two deserve each other," he mused, his tone tinged with an unreadable emotion.

The sincerity in his words left you momentarily stunned. "Thanks," you murmured, your voice soft, unsure of what else to say.

Klaus chuckled, draining the last of his drink. "Now, get out of here," he said, his tone turning playful. "And tell my brother I said hello."

His wink was mischievous, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Just as you stood to leave, your phone buzzed in your hand. Glancing down, you saw a message from Elijah. Your breath caught.

Klaus leaned over with unabashed curiosity, catching a glimpse of the screen. His brows lifted, a smirk spreading across his face. "He’s not wasting any time," he quipped, earning an eye roll and a glare from you.

"Shut up," you muttered, though a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. As you turned to leave, a wave of nervous anticipation washed over you. You had no idea what awaited you upstairs, but the thought of seeing Elijah in private sent a shiver of excitement through your body.

"Goodnight," you called over your shoulder, already halfway out the door.

"Good luck," Klaus called back, his laughter following you as you ascended the staircase.

The walk to Elijah’s room was a blur. Your pulse quickened with every step, your mind racing with possibilities. When you finally reached his door, your knuckles felt shaky as you knocked. The moments that followed felt endless until the door opened, revealing him.

Elijah stood there, his hair slightly disheveled, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked less composed than usual but no less striking. His gaze flickered over you, a faint smile curving his lips.

"Hey," you managed, your voice catching in your throat.

"Hey," he replied, his voice low and warm. His eyes roamed over you, his appreciation evident, and for a moment, the space between you seemed to disappear.

"So," he began, his voice steady, his eyes searching yours. "Did you get my message?"

Your heart fluttered, each beat reverberating in your chest. "Yes," you murmured, suddenly breathless under the weight of his gaze.

He tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile, his eyes never leaving yours. "And?" he prompted, his tone soft but teasing.

"And... I'm here," you said, your voice trembling, the words escaping more unsteadily than you intended.

That smile deepened, his eyes twinkling with amusement and something far more intense. "Would you like to come in?" he asked, gesturing inside.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your pulse hammering in your ears. He stepped aside, his gaze still locked on yours as you crossed the threshold. The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly, the air between you felt heavier, charged. The tension was almost tangible, a magnetic pull keeping you rooted to the spot as he moved closer.

The silence stretched, the tingling warmth of his presence washing over you. For a moment, you were paralyzed by indecision. Should you kiss him? Was he about to kiss you?

Then, as if reading your thoughts, his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, his hands coming up to cradle your face with a tenderness that made your knees weak. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate to close the gap between you.

He broke the kiss first, his breathing uneven, his dark eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "I have to admit, I’m surprised," he murmured, his voice low.

You blinked, trying to focus despite the lingering sensation of his lips on yours. "About what?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You. This. Everything," he said, his expression softening, though his gaze remained searching. "I thought you only had eyes for Niklaus," he teased gently, though there was something deeper in his tone, as if he was testing the waters.

You hesitated, hyper-aware of how close you were standing. The heat radiating off his body, the faint scent of his cologne, the brush of his breath against your skin. "It wasn’t anything serious," you said quietly, your words tentative but honest.

His thumb brushed along your jawline, the gesture achingly tender. "So, you're single then," he murmured, his voice dipping lower, the sound a mix of relief and desire.

"Yes," you breathed, the word barely audible.

"Good," he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. "Because I have no intention of sharing you."

The possessive edge in his tone sent a thrill down your spine, igniting something deep within you. Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, this time with more urgency. The kiss was deeper, hungrier, his tongue parting your lips and exploring, tasting you in a way that made your knees buckle.

You groaned softly, the sound muffled by his mouth, and began fumbling with the buttons on his vest, desperate to remove the barriers between you. He smiled against your lips, his hands sliding down your back to cup your ass, pulling you against him with a boldness that surprised you.

You had expected his gentlemanly demeanor to carry over, but his touch was insistent, his movements deliberate and confident. His grip tightened, and before you knew it, he had lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

Your heart pounded as he carried you to the bed, the world narrowing to the feel of his body pressed against yours and the heat building between you. When he laid you down gently, his weight above you, the realization hit. You wanted this. Every moment, every touch, every kiss.

This was happening.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he trailed kisses along your jawline and down the sensitive column of your neck. You continued to fumble with the buttons on his vest, the task made more difficult by his mouth, which was now exploring the sensitive skin below your ear.

"Impatient, aren't we?" he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, the sound making your skin tingle.

"Maybe a little," you gasped, arching your hips into his as he bit down gently, his tongue soothing the mark immediately after.

You felt his weight shift as he shrugged off his vest, the sound of fabric falling to the floor making your heart race even faster. His hands were everywhere, firm yet gentle. As though he couldn’t decide whether to savor or devour you.

His hands slid down your sides, tracing the curve of your waist and settling on your hips. His grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you at the contact. Every move, every touch seemed to stoke the fire between you, the heat building to an unbearable intensity.

You tugged at the collar of his shirt, urging him to remove it, the need for his bare skin against yours overwhelming. With a low chuckle, he pulled away long enough to comply, discarding the shirt onto the growing pile of clothing.

You had always suspected he was hiding an impressive physique underneath his suit, but the sight of him still managed to catch you off guard. Toned muscles, smooth skin, those broad shoulders… and those arms. God, his arms.

You traced the outline of his bicep appreciatively, your fingers moving upward to follow the lines of his collarbone. He watched you explore, the way your eyes moved over his chest, following the faint trail of dark hair leading to his abdomen. A hint of a smirk pulled at his lips, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.

You felt your cheeks go warm, and you reached down and pulled your dress up and over your head in one fluid motion. It was his turn to blush, the look on his face shifting from amusement to unmistakable desire. His gaze trailed over you, taking in the sight of your newly exposed skin, his eyes darkening with need.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, dipping his head to plant kisses along your collarbone, his lips brushing against the tops of your breasts.

He shifted his weight, rolling you both onto your sides. His hand lifting your thigh and hooking your leg around his hip, and his fingertips grazed the soft skin on the inside. Your eyes met his, and the heat pooling between your legs was impossible to ignore.

His fingers gently grazed the edge of your panties, the fabric already soaked through with need. He let out a soft groan at the discovery, his thumb moving steadily over the little nub of nerves through the thin cotton.

A sharp intake of breath was all you could manage as his deft fingers continued their torture. He was drawing patterns against the fabric, sending jolts of pleasure through your body with every stroke. Your hips rocked against him, your hands pressed into his chest, nails digging into his skin.

He hummed softly, a hint of amusement in the sound. He was enjoying this. Seeing you squirm beneath him, reduced to a mess of desire. Your eyes met his, and his gaze was filled with a mix of fondness and lust.

"Don't tease," you managed, your voice hoarse with need.

"As you wish," he murmured, slipping his hand inside your panties.

He was nothing like Klaus, who was rough and urgent, taking what he wanted and giving just enough to leave you wanting more. No, Elijah was a different beast entirely.

You felt his fingers trace your entrance, slick and ready for him, before finally easing inside. He groaned, a sound so low and primal it made your toes curl. You arched into his hand, the feeling of his thick fingers filling you completely.

"'Lijah," you gasped, your words trailing off into a breathless moan as he began moving inside you with deep, slow strokes.

He continued his unhurried pace, smiling as he watched you squirm and pant beside him. His thumb returned to circle your clit, the combination exquisite. He seemed to know exactly how you liked it. How much pressure to apply, when to quicken the pace, when to slow down. All you could do was cling to him, your head spinning as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body.

You felt the familiar pressure building, and you closed your eyes, lost in the sensation. His free hand cupped your cheek, tilting your chin up. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, dark and intense.

"Eyes on me," he whispered, his voice commanding but tender.

You couldn't look away, caught in his spell, as your release began to crest. You felt him increase the pressure, the rhythmic stroking of his fingers pushing you over the edge. A sharp cry left your lips as the tension snapped, ripples of pleasure spreading through your body.

Your fingers curled into his skin, nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on his shoulder. He looked down at the marks, a small, satisfied smile curving his lips.

You kissed him slowly, lazily, your body still humming with pleasure. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, his erection pressing against your thigh, a silent plea.

You reached between you, cupping his length through his pants, he let out a soft hiss, watching you through hooded eyes, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks flushed.

"Let me take care of you now," you whispered, palming his length.

He nodded, his lips parting in anticipation as you reached for his belt. You made quick work of it, freeing his erection from its confines.

You hummed appreciatively, admiring the way he filled your palm, so hard and smooth. With your other hand you pushed on his chest, guiding him to lie flat, his head on the pillow.

Your heart thudded as you positioned yourself over him, taking in the sight of him, laid out before you. His eyes were filled with anticipation and need, his expression almost boyish. He looked almost... innocent? Nervous? It was hard to read.

With a wicked grin, you bent down and wrapped your lips around him, sucking gently. A guttural moan tore from his throat, his hands finding their way into your hair. He didn't push, but held on as if his life depended on it.

You swirled your tongue around the tip, teasing and tasting. You took him further, relaxing your throat to accommodate his length. You moaned around him, the vibration eliciting a gasp from him.

You pressed a hand into his hips, keeping him steady, as your head bobbed up and down. Your other hand stroked the base of his shaft, coaxing him further, deeper. His hips jerked, trying to gain leverage, but your grip was firm.

His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling in short bursts. You had never seen him so disheveled, so undone. It was a heady feeling. Knowing that you were responsible for making the most refined man you had ever known fall apart.

You continued working him, using every trick you knew, drawing him closer and closer to the edge. He was murmuring things, his words tumbling out in a string of barely coherent compliments.

You hummed, enjoying his incoherence, the way his fingers tugged at your hair. The pressure was building, his breath becoming shorter and shallower. He was so close, you could taste it. You pulled back slightly, your tongue swirling around the tip once more.

He let out a low groan, his hips stilling as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed him greedily, savoring the taste of him, the sounds he made.

You looked up at him, taking in the sight of his parted lips, the sheen of sweat covering his forehead. He looked beautiful. Wild and untamed. And completely yours.

The realization washed over you, sending a jolt of something unfamiliar through your body. Before you could examine it, he was pulling you underneath him, taking back control. His lips found yours, kissing you deeply, his hands sliding under your hips, pressing you closer.

The two of you just kissed for awhile, unhurried, enjoying the feel of each other. Your fingers explored his body, learning every dip and curve, committing him to memory.

"I must confess, it actually has been years," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. His words were spoken into the crook of your neck, his voice slightly muffled.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, his confession so unexpected.

"It's alright, I won't tell anyone," you teased, carding your fingers through his hair.

He leaned back, his eyes shining with amusement. "That would be preferable," he agreed, planting a kiss on the underside of your jaw.

"The wait was worth it," he whispered, his voice low and full of promise.

You couldn't stop the blush that crept up your neck, his words sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. He had that effect on you. Making you feel things you had never experienced before. He was so commanding yet tender. So confident, yet vulnerable.

You tugged him closer, wanting to be engulfed by his scent, his warmth. He obliged, slowly parting your legs with his knee, his erection pressing into the apex of your thighs.

He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath warm against your cheek. "Is this okay?" he whispered, his question genuine.

You nodded, not used to the way he was taking his time. You had never had someone take such care, treating your body like something delicate, precious. It was an odd feeling, and you found yourself craving it, eager to see what he would do next.

He brushed his nose against yours, a tender gesture, his hands lifting your thighs, pressing them against your stomach. You could feel his hard length against you, but he remained still, his gaze searching yours.

You realized he was waiting for an invitation. "Please," you breathed, unable to say more, your mind too focused on the feel of him, the heat building inside you.

His fingers gripped the back of your thighs, the pressure enough to bruise, as he eased into you slowly. Your eyes fluttered shut, his thickness stretching you, filling you completely. You moaned, your fingers digging into his biceps.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He set a perfect rhythm, his hips rolling against yours in a way that left you breathless.

Your hips rose to meet his, colliding in perfect harmony, his breath warm against your cheek. He murmured words of encouragement, his voice hoarse and low. Your name escaped his lips in a breathless gasp, the sound almost a prayer.

You could feel his love, his admiration, in every touch, every kiss, every stroke. It wasn't just sex. It was Elijah pouring every ounce of his devotion into you. You understood why he wasn't a man for one-night stands. He couldn't separate the act from the emotion. And for some reason, you couldn't either. Not with him.

His hands slid to your hips, steadying your movements as he slowed his thrusts, savoring the way you fit together. "Perfect," he breathed, his lips grazing the side of your neck, his breath hot on your skin.

"Elijah," you whimpered, his name escaping in a gasp.

He was unraveling you, piece by piece, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. You could feel the pressure building, the familiar heat pooling deep inside you. You closed your eyes, your fingers curling into his skin as the first waves of your orgasm washed over you.

"That’s it," Elijah whispered, his voice like velvet against your ear, low and intimate.

Your body trembled, a moan escaping your lips as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body tensing, then relaxing. He rode you through it, his own release following yours, he groaned, his forehead resting against yours.

For a moment, the world around you faded away, your thoughts only of him. You breathed each other in, the two of you still joined, hearts racing.

When the fog cleared, and reality came rushing back, all you could think about was the way his skin felt against yours. His body, warm and solid above you. You had never had sex like that before. It was intense, almost spiritual. You couldn't explain it, but there was something different about him. Something you had never experienced with anyone else.

"Well, that was..." you trailed off, looking up at him through your lashes.

He met your gaze, a hint of amusement in his expression. "Indeed," he murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You let out a soft giggle, your cheeks warming under the weight of his stare. You snuggled into his chest, his strong arm wrapping around you, holding you close.

You stayed like that for a while, enjoying the feel of his bare skin against yours. Your fingers absently traced patterns along his chest, his heartbeat steady and strong. You had never felt more content, more at ease.

"You're welcome to stay," he whispered, his lips brushing against the top of your head.

You hummed in agreement, letting him pull the blankets around you. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so comfortable. So safe.

The soft buzzing of his phone pulled you both back to reality, a reminder that the world outside still existed. Elijah sighed, the sound half-amused, half-irritated.

"Who is it?" you asked, the question partially muffled by his chest.

"It doesn't matter," he replied, his voice soft and reassuring.

You lifted your head, looking at the screen, and noticed all the messages notifications from the dating app. You chuckled.

"Someone is popular," you said, teasing him lightly.

He shrugged, a sheepish look on his face. You reached out and opened a message from one of his many suitors, a blonde woman who was unafraid to get right to the point.

‘My place? ;)’, the message read, along with a very provocative picture.

"I don't understand why people think sending a photo like that is appropriate," Elijah mused, his tone indignant.

You burst out laughing, the thought of Elijah, in all his old-fashioned glory, unable to comprehend the dating app culture, was too much.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you didn't expect this," you teased, poking him gently in the ribs.

He caught your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the gesture so intimate, you could feel your cheeks flush.

"I'm aware of what dating apps are for, I'm just not interested in the kind of attention she's offering," he replied, his eyes meeting yours, the warmth in his gaze making your heart race.

"It's not all bad, you know," you said, a hint of mischief in your voice. "It worked for us," you pointed out.

He arched an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful. "I suppose you're right," he conceded, his lips curving into a small smile. "But we would have ended up here regardless," he added, his confidence unwavering.

"Is that so?" you replied, trying to hide the way your heart was hammering against your chest.

"Yes," he said simply, the certainty in his voice leaving no room for doubt.

"And why is that?" you pressed, enjoying the way he was looking at you, his gaze full of adoration.

“This,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, “was always meant to happen. You and I… we’re inevitable.”

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing along his jawline. “Inevitable,” you repeated, the word tasting like a promise on your tongue. Whatever doubts or fears you had melted away in the warmth of his gaze, the quiet certainty that seemed to anchor you to this moment. As his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, you realized that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

Wrapped in his embrace, your future unfolding one shared heartbeat at a time.

[angywritesstuff]

Hello, please keep writing about "The one with the one night stand" with Henry Cavill. I'm collapsing, we need this. I love your writing, sorry for the bad English, it's not my native language. 🤍

Hi, thank you and don’t worry about your English, I’m not native either

I want to keep writing I swear, I’m just swamped with university, I’ll try my best

[angywritesstuff]

Broken Bonds- Part 9

Former (ish) Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader, BabyDaddy! Jay Halstead x Reader

When an undercover op leaves Jay struggling you don't leave him to face it alone

Warnings: talks of violence, hate crimes

“So are we doing a co-ed baby shower or am I gonna be the only guy there?” Kevin asked, sitting on the edge of your desk with a broad grin. You pushed your chair back a little to look up at him and shook your head with a laugh “Didn’t really think it was an issue of guy or gal. If anyone who loves me and Jay wants to come celebrate our daughter, they’re welcome to”

He nodded “Well then you know I’m gonna be there. Vanessa and Jordan have even sent gifts once they found out she was a girl and you know uncle Kev has to make sure she’s looking right” time he said that apparently Addy wanted to make her opinion known because you could feel what was either her elbow or knee running across your stomach. Kevin watched the movement with a small smile until you grabbed his hand and felt around a little before placing it right on top of her movements. His smile grew when he felt her “Damn. She’s as strong as her mama”

Kevin was one person you hadn’t worried about judging you in the least from the word go in any of this. He’d always had the biggest heart and if he cared about you? He’d go to war in a heartbeat. “I’m sorry we haven’t really gotten to spend any time together in the last few months Kev. I swear you’re still my best friend” you told him and he laughed lightly, turning his hand from holding your stomach to holding yours “I know lil mama. You’ve been going through a lot. I’m just glad it seems to be calming down a little because I was worried there for a while”

You cut your eyes around to where Hailey was talking to Kim, Hank was on the phone and Adam was gone with Jay. “Did everyone notice how insane my emotions were?” he shrugged “Upton pushed it off on hormones anytime anyone mentioned it so they wouldn’t push the subject but I know you. You know I love Jay and Mouse but if those two would’ve put enough stress on you that something would’ve happened to you two? I would’ve been helping Stella drop bodies”

You laughed at the thought of your fire lieutenant sister and detective best friend sneaking onto a military base in an active war zone to go after someone, only after taking out a detective in Chicago. “Neither of them would’ve purposely done that” he nodded “I know but that wouldn’t have helped our feelings” you shook your head “You two are insane, you know that?” he shrugged “You are her sister and damn near mine. We’re just as protective of you as you are of us” 

You gave his hand a squeeze “And I always will be” he winked at you then stood up “In that case since I know I don’t gotta crash next week I’m gonna get back to work” you motioned to your computer “Me too”

Things had gotten better. Things were still pretty silent from Mouse but you hadn’t expected him to exactly be chatty. That man had taken more than anyone should’ve had to in stride and still put your health first. 

The first time you’d gotten an email from him after telling him about Addy you’d nearly cried even if it was just a photo of a crescent moon over the base with one line that said Made me think of you

You’d changed the background of your phone to the photo and planned to keep it like that until Addy was born and took its place. The standing plan was that he’d only call if his unit was moving, his orders changed or his contract got an end date. Beyond that or the emails you sent him he didn’t want any contact and you couldn’t blame him. That was why you always kept the emails short, just told him you hoped he was safe and left it at that. You refused to hurt him worse, even if it made you ache not to tell him at every chance just how much you loved him and hoped like hell you’d get to see his face again one day.

It was about noon, everyone was just finishing up lunch at their desks when Hank came walking out of his office “Listen up. We had a shooting at a mosque on the south side. Three confirmed dead, two on their way to med. Upton and Burgess, go to med and interview the families. See if anyone remembers anything. Kidd see if you can pull anything from any traffic cams or security cams nearby. The rest of us will head to the scene”

You nodded and turned to your computer as everyone started grabbing their jackets. You felt Jay’s hand on the back of your chair before he was leaning over you to gently touch your stomach. “I’ll see you when I get back” “Talking to me or her?” you teased so he kissed the top of your head “You’re carrying her so both”

You heard him turn to catch up with Kevin who he was no doubt riding with so you turned your attention to trying to find any footage you could of the shooter.

___________________

By the time everyone got back to the precinct the knot in your stomach was growing. You’d clocked the posture and formation of the guys the moment you saw it. When you pulled the partial of the tag you’d gotten from the getaway car it had confirmed your fear. It belonged to Matthew Riley, an Army vet who was medically discharged about four years before.

When you dug deeper you found out he’d struggled with PTSD, depression then that turned into substance abuse which in turn caused his wife to leave him and get granted full custody of his two kids. The last social media footprint you could find was on a page for a militia type group that was ranting about the “outsiders” in the country and how they needed to “purify” it.

“Kidd, what ya got?” Voight asked as everyone filed in from the back hallway because you were at the board, adding everything you’d found. Your eyes flickered towards Jay before you ran down everything you’d found out.

“Ok, do we have anything more on this group?” you shook your head “I’ve put in some calls but so far nothing. This is the first big move they’ve made. Considering the gear I couldn’t identify any of the other men and on their site there’s too many to narrow it down before they could hit another target. I’ve got an address on Riley’s ex wife and an A.P.B. out on his car”

Hank nodded “Ruzek and Burgess go talk to the ex. Atwater, Upton and Halstead hit the streets, see if any of your C.I.s may have heard something” “Got it boss” Adam nodded then him and Kim headed for the back hall. 

You grabbed Jay’s hand on the way by “Hey, you good?” you knew how these types of cases affected him in the past. He smiled slightly  “Yeah, I’m good” then slowly pulled his hand out of yours and headed behind Adam and Kim. Kevin patted your shoulder on the way by and Hailey assured you “We’ll keep an eye on him”

The ex wife proved to be a bust. She hadn’t spoken to him since their divorce two years before. “She stuck with him as long as she could. It just became too much” Kim explained from where she sat on Hailey’s desk. Jay hadn’t spoken since him, Kevin and Hailey had come back from talking to C.I.s and you were starting to worry but you weren’t going to say anything.

“Kidd, anything on any of the other members of the group?” Hank asked you so you shook your head “The ones that actually have phones I’ve got but they’re inactive. The ones that have cars I’ve yet to find on any traffic cams. It’s like they’re all hold up somewhere just out of eyesight and that thought alone is scary as hell”

Kim’s phone started ringing so she answered it, looking around as she said “Thank you for letting us know” when she hung up she stood and walked to the board to move one of the victim’s faces over to the deceased slot. “Damn” Kevin breathed. 

Adam ran a hand down his face “How do we find a fricking unit that has just as much, if not more training as we do and doesn’t want to be found?” Jay cut his eyes up “Put a prime new member out in the open for them” you felt your heart drop. Was he really offering to go under?

You could practically feel everyone’s eyes on you when Hank said “You think that’s a good idea Jay?” Jay nodded “C’mon Voight. We set up somewhere with a few other undercovers. Make it big enough and look good enough to get their attention. They’ll find me then we got em”

Your hand went to your stomach without thinking. You wouldn’t interfere with Jay’s job anymore than you’d want him to interfere with yours. That didn’t mean you had to like it and that didn’t mean you wouldn't be keeping Stella and Will on speed dial for the entirety of this op.

Hank nodded slowly “I’ll make some calls and get your uc apartment in line” Jay nodded as Hank walked towards his office. You refused to look anyone in the eye but a pin drop could’ve been heard when Jay stood and walked over to your desk “Hey, can we talk?” you looked up to see he was holding a hand out. Hailey, Kevin, Adam and Kim were all four trying their best to make it look like they weren’t paying attention.

You stood without Jay’s help and walked towards the breakroom. He walked in behind you and shut the door then pulled the blinds. You turned to face him after taking a deep breath. “I don’t fucking like this Jay. The last time you went under like this you and Mouse were up for a week straight after”   

He took a step towards you so you met him halfway, letting him slip his arms around you. He rested one hand on your lower back and one on your stomach “I’ll be ok. It’ll just be a few days but you saw what those guys did. What if that was the beginning? You pulled the videos off their site, saw what their ideas are. We can’t leave them on the street”

You nodded “I know. I know it’s our job. That doesn’t mean I have to fucking like it” he smiled and leaned closer to press a kiss to your temple “Can I ask one favor?” you nodded “Yeah” he pulled away to look down at you “Will you stay with Stel while I do this?”

“Why?” you asked and he moved the hand on your stomach around just enough that Addy reacted to it. “Because you’ll be worried. Here you’ll have everyone around you but when you go home I know your mind will get too loud. With her and Kelly there it wont. Plus if something went wrong they would be there. That helps me focus knowing you two are good”

“Low blow Halstead” you grumbled and he grinned “See? I can play that game too” you shook your head “I’ll text her to let her know” “Thank you”

It was decided Adam would go under with Jay because a two man team taking out a clinic of “outsiders” was more believable than one. While Adam’s undercover persona Jon didn’t have the military background Jay’s undercover persona Curtis did because he didn’t know the things Jay did, you did make Jon’s father former military to make him more attractive to the group.

You sat watching the security footage of the “clinic” from the precinct. The plan was for “Jon” and “Curtis” to attack the clinic around ten and the CPD to barely miss catching them. You had rooted their online manifesto right to the militia group’s front door. All you had to do now was sit back and let it play out.

________________________

Once Voight called it you made sure the false news report would be everywhere online any member of the group looked. They’d have no choice but to find “Jon” and “Curtis” 

You sat at your desk,waiting to get a text from Jay. He was supposed to let you know when he and Adam got back to the uc apartment. Hailey, Kim, Kevin and Hank were on their way back along with a loaner detective from major crimes that worked well with the unit in the past since you couldn’t exactly hit the streets.

You were on the verge of panicking when your phone chimed we’re under. Stay safe. See you soon. That would be the last contact you could have with Jay until the actual meet with the group came down. All other contact would be through Voight or Kevin.

You let out a breath and laid your phone down, running a hand over your stomach. Why had your life gotten so complicated? You couldn’t dwell because all at once the group’s phones started lighting up one by one “Took the bait” you whispered to yourself with a smile before going to work to try to triangulate their locations.

You couldn’t sleep. Why the hell did you expect yourself to be able to sleep? Your baby was planning soccer with your internal organs, the father of said child was undercover waiting to be plucked up by an extremist group with one of your closest friends.

You turned over for what felt like the thousandth time when the door opened of Kelly and Stella’s spare bedroom you were back staying in. You looked over your shoulder to see Stella. “Did I wake you up?” you asked with a grimace. She shook her head “No. I was worried about you”

She walked over and climbed into the bed behind you, sliding her arm around your waist to rest her hand on your stomach. “Mouse will survive this tour. Jay will survive this undercover op. Addy will be the healthy and happy and everything will eventually work out ” “I know” you whispered and she buried her face into your hair “Then sleep because my niece needs it” you laughed lightly and said “Yes ma’am” 

It wasn’t long before you did indeed find yourself lulled to sleep simply by the comfort of being held.

It took exactly two days before Adam and Jay were neck deep with the group and privy to their next target. It was the larger mosque on the north end that was hosting a celebration. Over two hundred people planned to be in attendance. They also didn’t plan to just use guns this time.

The unit’s floor had never been more insane than it currently was. Detectives from Major crimes, a couple marshals and even an agent or two from ATF was slammed into the tight quarters ready to swoop down upon Voight’s all clear. 

You’d had one or two of them doubt your being there with how far along you were until you hacked one agent’s phone while smiling in his face. “What she can’t do in the field she’s learned to do behind a computer” Hank told them with a smug smirk. You shrugged at the agent “That was slow compared to who I learned from”

After that no one doubted you being there and instead was routing questions your way too. Especially when Hank added in one of the detectives that had gone under was your child’s father. That had earned you a look of respect from the marshals at the fact that you were working so calmly under pressure, if only they knew it was a fake it till you make it kind of thing.

_______________________

You watched everyone leave and was left listening to the coms and watching surveillance from the convenience store across the street. You felt your stomach flip when a truck rolled up outside of the mosque and men started to step out. Even in full gear, with a mask on you would recognize Jay anywhere. Next to him you clocked Adam along with half a dozen other men. 

According to the message Adam got out to Hank there were four other men that would plan the explosive while the rest of them were supposed to take out who they could with the firearms. “Hold until my signal. Those are my guys” Hank warned across the coms and you smiled. He was an asshole but his unit was his. 

You saw Jay say something to another man and assumed that was probably Matthew Riley. Damn you wished he had a com to know what was going on. Another car rolled up and that must have been the signal because the men spread out and moved towards the mosque. Four went to the front entrance and four towards the back.

You said a silent prayer when the group with Jay and Adam disappeared from the screen. You didn’t have eyes inside so you would be blind. The sound of automatic gunfire made you flinch right before Voight’s voice “Go go go”

You watched as agents poured out of homes and cars that were around the mosque. You saw Hailey’s blonde hair next to Kevin’s broad frame followed by Kim’s dark brown hair and took a deep breath. Your unit would bring him back. You had to trust that.

Out of the ten members of the group, eight arrests were made. One guy got shot drawing on Hailey and unfortunately Matthew forced Jay’s hand into putting him down.

In total the group had thirty three members. One of the arrests rolled over on the rest of the names and after that addresses were easy to find. Judges were lining up to sign their warrants. It was nearly ten at night by the time the final arrest was made and your unit made it back to the precinct to finish up and head home.

You were talking to Trudy when Hank led the unit up through the back hallway. Adam was first through and he gave you a tired smile then was Kim who smiled “That was exhausting” Hailey walked over to whisper in your ear “He tried to talk Matthew down. Adam said the two spoke a lot over the last couple days” you nodded and she patted your shoulder with a small smile.

Kevin walked over and leaned down to hug you when he walked in “I hate these kind of cases but love when they’re done” you laughed lightly “Yeah, they’re even worse when you’re stuck here”

Jay was last through the door. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the last time you saw him. There was blood splattered on his jeans, what looked like dirt or soot smeared across one side of his face and the look in his eyes told you his mind was anywhere but there. You cut your eyes at Hailey who gave you a small nod. “Everyone head on home” Voight dismissed you all as soon as he saw Jay was in the bullpen as if he was waiting on him. 

You stood up and walked over to where Jay was now leaning against the wall, hands resting on the vest he still wore which alone told you his head wasn’t on right because normally he would’ve already stripped the vest. You didn’t quite touch him, afraid of startling him because you didn’t know how bad it was “Jay?” you called his name lightly and he blinked before his eyes finally focused on you and the look in them softened automatically “Hey”

“Hey” you smiled and held your hand out “You headed home?” he nodded and took your hand. He didn’t say anything as the two of you walked downstairs behind Kevin who looked over his shoulder at you twice. You shrugged because you didn’t really know what Jay needed at that moment so you had to trust he’d let you know.

Once you were outside in the cool night air Kevin wished you both goodnight and headed for his car. You walked with Jay to his truck. “So I’m gonna go home tonight since you’re not under anymore” you spoke and he nodded “Ok” he reached out a hand to your stomach but stopped and curled it closed “I’ll see you later” he spoke low, eyes moving from your stomach to your face. You nodded “If you need anything you know where I am” 

He watched you walk over to your jeep and get in before climbing in his truck. A part of you started to ask if he wanted to stay with you but you weren’t sure that was the right idea either. You sighed as you pulled out onto the road, glancing down at the polaroid and ultrasound on your dash before turning your attention to the road.

You were asleep, curled up on your side  when your phone started ringing. You groaned as you pushed yourself up the bed and tried to find it without opening your eyes. When your hand finally wrapped around it you brought it to your ear and just answered it with a “Kidd”

At first you thought whoever it was had hung up before Jay’s voice finally hit your ears “I’m sorry for waking you up but can I please come over?” you wiped a hand down your face,worry for him pushing sleep out of you. “Of course” “I’m on the way” he replied then hung up.

You laid the phone down then climbed out of bed. You needed to put on sleep pants considering you’d gone to bed in just a maternity camisole, which considering it was winter was probably insane but she was making you a human furnace most night.

_________________

You’d nearly dozed back off on the couch by the time Jay knocked on the front door. You walked over and opened it to let him in and closed it behind him. The moment he crossed the threshold he pulled you into a hug, one hand going to your stomach. “Please don’t take her from me” he begged, voice breaking.

“Jay?” you asked, leaning back as far as you could from his grip to look up at him. Dark circles were under his eyes, that same hollow look still there along with unshed tears. He’d showered and changed but you doubted he’d ate or slept since leaving work.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling your own tears threaten to fall at seeing his. “It broke him losing his kids sweetheart. That’s what made him not care. Everything he saw, everything he did. He could deal with it by going home to his kids but when he lost them he didn’t care anymore. Please don’t take my little girl, I love her so damn much already. I know the shit in my head gets to be a lot at times but I am trying to be better for her I really am”

You pulled him down into a hug and felt him bury his face into the bend of your neck, tears wetting your skin “Jay you listen to me. You are her father.I would never take her from you. I see that you’re trying. You’re a good man and if you stumble I won’t leave you down there I’m gonna help you to your feet. We’re partners, remember?” 

He nodded and you blinked hard a few times to stop your own tears from falling. “I knew this case would mess with your head” “I’m sorry for waking you up for this” he whispered and you stepped back to look up at him, really look at him “How much have you slept in the last week Jay?”

At his silence you shook your head and grabbed his hand “C’mon” He let you lead him through the apartment and to your bedroom, his eyes widening slightly “Don’t get excited cowboy. We ain’t hitting round two” you teased, reaching to take his jacket off then nodded to his boots “Kick those off”

He did as you told then looked at you questioningly so you said “Take your jeans off unless you’d rather sleep in them and if you would it’s nice knowing I’m pregnant by a psychopath”  “I didn’t come over here to try to get in your bed” he whispered, eyes dropping to the floor as a look of shame flashed across his face at the thought that you were thinking this was a show to get you to take him to bed. You nodded “I know but you have said and I’ve seen that you sleep pretty well when you’re near her and currently being near her means near me. So get comfortable and get in the bed. I’m pregnant and tired. You’re exhausted so let's go to bed”

He nodded slowly and unzipped his jeans before pushing them off his hips. He folded them in half and sat them on top of your dresser. You smiled “See? No big deal since I have seen you naked after all” you ran a hand over your stomach and he smiled so you waved a hand “I’ve got the left side so you’ve got right” you slipped under the covers and motioned to him.

“Is it ok if I take my shirt off?” he asked and you touched your hand to your chest in mock shock “Oh my Mr Halstead! Topless! That’s indecent” and was rewarded with a full grin before he slipped his shirt off and put it with his jeans before joining you in the bed. 

He turned on his side facing you and brushed the hair out of your face, hand cupping your chin. “Thank you. I know I’m not who you want here but thank you” you covered his hand with yours and smiled softly “Get some sleep Jay. You deserve it” his hand moved from your face to your stomach “What happens if Mouse decides to come home when his contract ends?”

That was the first time in weeks he’d directly said anything about Mouse. You raised your eyes to look up at him “What do you mean?” he raised his eyes to yours “He still loves you now just as much as he ever did.Addy doesn’t change that..Are we still going to be good if he comes back? Don’t get me wrong baby I want him home safe and I want you happy but I want us good”

You reached a hand up to his face “What happens if you date?” he smiled “They’ll have to accept that you’re my partner, the mother of my child and my other half in some ways. No matter if we’re not together we’re gonna be in each other’s lives regardless”  You nodded “Same goes for me, now like I said before..get some sleep and for the record, if I didn't want you here, I wouldn't have told you to get in the bed”

“Goodnight” he whispered, hand gently rubbing your stomach. “Goodnight” you replied with a yawn. You fell asleep with his hand stretched wide across your stomach.

@desimarie12

@allisonargent144

@waywardhunter95

[angywritesstuff]

Since you did Buck could you do Eddie Diaz??

I definitely can! This one is a bit sweeter than Buck's

Three Times Eddie Wanted to Sleep with You (and the One Time He Kissed You)

Description: Three times Eddie had to hold himself back and the one time he tried something a little different.

Eddie knows it’s not smart, falling for you, wanting you. You’re Buck’s girlfriend’s cousin, and he’s never seen someone so protective in his life. She’ll skin him alive if she catches him, but he can’t help it, he’s a sucker for pretty eyes, and you’ve got the prettiest he’s ever seen. So, he tries to distance himself, tries to stay friendly and think about anything but how pretty you are, how perfect and kind you are to everyone you meet. Luckily, he’s got a lot of practice pushing his emotions aside for the good of others. Unluckily, you’re far more tempting than he thought you’d be.

One: It starts with a pool day, and he’s focused on keeping his eyes at respectful levels. Everyone is having fun, Chris is in the shallow end with Harry, and someone’s just brought him a drink, Bobby is at the grill, and Eddie thinks he’s doing pretty good. Then he sees you. You’re in a bikini because of course you are, he can’t catch a break. It’s cherry red with gold ties, it’s aesthetic apparently, but he just sees it as the bane of his self-control.

His mouth goes dry when you make your way over to him with a bottle of sunscreen in your hand. “Eddie? Do you mind helping me?”

He thinks he says yes, he must’ve said yes because you sit with your back to him, gathering your hair in one hand, sweeping it away from your neck. He takes the sunscreen from you, and starts applying it, apologizing when you hiss from the change in temperature.

You both sit quietly as he rubs the sunscreen in, making sure there’s no white cast, his large hands smoothing over your back, and shoulders, taking care to get every inch while trying to remain as respectful as possible.

“I have to—do you mind—?” He lifts the strips of fabric that keep your bathing suit top tied together ever so slightly, waiting for you to nod, or pull away.

“No, no, you’re good, I’ll just…” You hold your top to your body with one hand just in case as Eddie rubs the sunscreen in, much quicker than before.

“Okay, I think you’re all good.” He says, snapping the cap back on the bottle, and setting it aside.

You turn to face him hand still pressed to your top, your breasts are right there, in his face, slightly pushed up by your hand, and you smile at him. “Thanks!”

He wants to grab you, feel the soft flesh beneath his hands, see what sounds you make, what sounds he can get you to make. “Yeah, no problem, it’s a nice suit.”

You toy with the strings of your bikini bottoms. “Thanks, it’s part of the new line I did a shoot for, the designer said I wore it so well she wanted me to keep it”

His mind plies him with a montage of you undoing those strings and letting him feast, suffocating him with your soft thighs, his hand over your mouth to keep the others from hearing your moans.

“She was right.” He says breathlessly, because you’re a model, an actual model who’s sitting next to him in a bathing suit that’s probably worth more than he wants to know, and you’re smiling at him again, brighter, and happier than before.

You squeeze his bicep gratefully, looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. “You’re always so sweet to me, Eddie.”

“It’s uh, it’s easy to be sweet to you.” His heart is tripping over itself in his chest as your fingertips dance down to trace the lines of his tattoo.

You smile at him again, and he tries to focus on the sounds of the pool rather than the way his skin tingles under your touch.

Two: You’re in front of him with your cousin, who’s gently teasing you about your inability to pick a nail color, so you ask him what he thinks.

“Don’t you usually decide that at the salon?” He asks, trying to remember the last time someone asked him what color they should get for anything.

“Usually, but it goes a bit faster if you already know what you want.” You say, smiling when you see the color bloom across your cousin’s cheeks as Buck leans closer to her, one arm around her waist.

“Get whatever you want, sweetheart, you know what I like.” He says, in a low, seductive tone.

She clicks her tongue but smiles, “scoundrel.”

“So, which colors were you thinking about?” Eddie asks, drawing your attention back to him.

You push out your bottom lip in a pout, “I don’t know, I really can’t decide.”

Eddie takes one of your hands in his own and tries not to audibly react to the fact that they’re so much smaller and more delicate than his own. “Maybe a light blue or a green? That could look nice.”

“Like an army green?” You ask him, giving him a stunning, playful smile.

He looks up from your hand, shrugging, the corners of his lips quirking up. “It’s a good color.”

“Oh yeah?” You look up at him coyly, tilting your head to the side, and it makes all his blood rush south.

“I think so.” He says, managing to return your smile without dropping to his knees and begging you to let him feel your hands somewhere other than in his own.

“Y/N, let’s go, we can’t be late.” Your cousin calls, linking her arm with yours and dragging you away before you can respond.

Eddie’s phone buzzes in his pocket right as he unlocks the door to his apartment, luckily, he’s got some time to shower before Chris and Carla return from the movies.

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone and unlocking it, clicking on the text notification from you.

It’s an image, your hand flat on a white marble table with long almond shaped nails, and they’re green, army green with little white flowers.

Y/N: What do you think, Sergeant? Do I pass inspection?

Eddie: With flying colors

He sends the message then chucks his phone on his bed, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, the darkness doing him no favors. Images of your hand splayed out on his chest, gripping his sheets, wrapped around his cock, all moving front and center now that there’s nothing else for him to focus on.

He groans and lets his hands fall to his sides, eyes opening just in time to see another text come in.

Y/N: Glad to hear it, wouldn’t want to disappoint my superior officer

You’re going to kill him, slowly and painfully, he thinks as he types back a safe neutral response then forces himself to leave his phone on the bed heading towards the shower. He’s going to need to take a cold one.

Three: You approach him anxiously, fiddling with your hands, dressed in a cream sundress, the sunlight framing you from behind, catching in your hair, giving you a halo. An angel, you look like an angel.

“So, Chris told me about the thing they’re doing at his school where the kids bring in their moms to talk about their jobs or what they do day to day...” You start, and guilt twists in his chest. “He said some of the other kids are bringing their aunts, or sisters, or grandmas, and he asked me if I would come and talk about my job.”

He sighs and drags a hand down his face. “Y/N I’m so sorry, I’ll talk to Chris when I get hom—”

“No, no, I want to go, I just wanted to check and see if it’s okay with you. I don’t want to overstep, I mean I adore Chris, and I’m honored he asked me, but I just want to…I don’t know, I don’t want to cause any problems, or accidentally cause him any trauma, I just want to do right by him.”

And angel you’re an actual angel; he could kiss you, he wants to kiss you, so badly, but he can’t, not here, not now.

“If you’re comfortable with it, and Chris wants you to go then, yeah, I’d really appreciate it.” He says, giving you the smile that earned him the nickname Hollywood.

“And then Y/N told everyone about how she’s went to Paris four times last year for photoshoots, and how she’s been in a bunch of fashion shows, and how she’s been all over the world, and all the other moms looked super jealous.” Chris says, excitedly retelling the day’s events to Eddie when he comes to pick you both up at the end of the day.

You’re smiling a bit embarrassedly, but ruffle Chris’ hair. “I think they were just tired of everyone asking me questions.”

“No way, everyone thought you were the coolest.” Chris insists, begrudgingly letting Eddie take his backpack.

“That’s because I brought cupcakes from that designer bakery downtown.” You say, and Eddie’s eyes are drawn to the box resting on your hip, the gold embossed lettering, the ribbon hanging from the sides.

Then you lean towards him, lowering your voice. “Though one mom pulled me aside afterward to ask how I got my figure back in time for the 2011 fashion week, which was a slightly awkward conversation.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, he doesn’t necessarily think you and Chris look all that alike, so he’s not sure why anyone would mistake you for his mom, especially since other maternal type figures were supposed to be there. “She thought you were his mom?”

“I guess she wasn’t listening when Chris introduced me.” You shrug. “Anyways I told her I do coke and that’s how I got the weight off.”

He freezes dumbfounded staring at you, no way you do coke, he would’ve seen the signs, right?

You burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I told her I’m not his mom, so I never gained any pregnancy weight. But honestly, I should’ve said that, would’ve served her right for being nosy.”

He laughs breathily, relief washing over him. “You scared me for a second.”

You elbow him playfully, “come on Eddie, you know I work too hard to let drugs get the credit.”

“Of course, of course, I don’t know why I doubted you.”

“I don’t either, oh no, don’t look.” You grab onto his bicep and duck behind him.

He doesn’t see anyone, just Chris’ teacher. “Y/N?”

“Um, Chris’ teacher might definitely have a crush on you, and she did not like hearing him talk about how cool it is that his dad’s best friend is a model and how much time I spend with you guys.” You explain, looking covertly over his shoulder, your breasts pressed against his arm.

He tries not to look, tries not to think, he’s at his kid’s school for goodness sakes, he needs to get control of himself. Seriously, seriously, needs to get control of himself.

The one time: It’s his birthday, his family sends him well wishes, the 118 throw him a little party but it’s the sight that greets him when he gets home that stirs something within him. He can hear giggles and shushing, the lights are off, and he flicks them on, to be greeted with two cheers of “surprise!”

You, and Chris, are holding a cake with way too many candles. The icing is messy, there’s ten different types of sprinkles on it, and when he spots the flour on your neck and the icing staining the end of Chris’s sleeve, he realizes what you two have done for him.

He moves to the table in a blur, shedding his coat and keys, happiness making his steps light.

“Come on Dad, you have to taste it, we spent hours making it.” Chris urges, dragging out the word hours in a perfect mimicry of you. How had he not noticed you’ve spent so together much time together that his son was starting to sound like you?

You hand him a piece of cake, waiting until Chris wasn’t looking to go up on your toes, and press a fleeting kiss to his cheek. “Happy birthday Eddie.”

“Thank you for this.” He says quietly.

You bump your shoulder into his lightly. “How can I say no to my favorite boys?”

Your favorite, he and his son are your favorites. You took time out of your busy schedule to make a cake with his son for him. He thinks he might be in love with you, and he watches as you help Chris carry out a neatly wrapped gift, smiling brightly as Chris bounces around excitedly.

It’s a scrapbook filled with pictures of him and Chris, even ones he didn’t know you’d taken. Each photo has dates and details written below in your handwriting, with little blurbs and commentary added in by Christopher on bright blue stickers.

He takes a bite of the cake to keep from tearing up. It’s decent, not the best, a little lumpy, but it’s homemade and the smile on Chris’s face makes it taste better than anything he’s ever eaten before.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Chris says suddenly, taking off back towards his room.

He’s alone with you, and he brushes the flour from your neck, a sudden urge to taste your skin striking him. His bent finger is at his lips before he can even think, flour and something sweeter underneath on his tongue.

Your eyes widen, but you lean closer to him, tilting your head ever so slightly exposing more of your throat to him, inviting him to have another taste. His hands settle on your hips, and he scans your face, finding nothing but acceptance and anticipation. He strokes the side of your throat with the same bent finger, breath catching when you shiver under his touch.

“Y/N, you couldn’t have given me a better gift.” He breathes, dipping his head down, lips ghosting over yours.

You tilt your head up, hands resting on his chest, “I know. I know you, Eddie.”

He’s nearly bowled over by his desire, wanting desperately to feel this way forever, wanted, loved, seen. He needs Chris to stay in his room for the next few hours or so. Give him enough time for him to get on his knees and thank you properly before taking you on the couch, until he can’t remember a time when desire, and you weren’t intertwined.

You smile softly, eyes on his lips. “Oh, you have a sprinkle on your lip.”

And now he needs Chris to come back before he dies of embarrassment, he moves to pull away to wipe at his mouth, but your hands fist in his shirt and pull him down to meet you. Your lips are warm against his, sweet, like the insane amount of sugar on his birthday cake, and when the tip of your tongue flicks out, he groans softly, tightening his grip on you.

“Got it,” you whisper against his lips, a shiver running down his spine at the barely restrained longing in your voice.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his hands moving, one splayed out on your lower back, the other remaining at your hip, adjusting his grip, keeping you close. “I think you might have missed it.”

“I think you’re right, let me try again.” Your hand finds its way up, manicured fingernails carding through his hair, as you close the gap between you two, the taste of sugar on his tongue.

[angywritesstuff]

Adore You

Harry is a single father and Y/N is a well known song-writer that happens to befriend Harry and collaborates on his album Fine Line. 

Will it be friendship or develop into something more? 

Word count: 17, 845 (i don’t know how that happened)

A/N: I was fearful of never finishing this because online school is a lot more reading and work than I expected but I made it and I’m proud. I hope you love it as much as I do. Please reblog and let me know what you thought. 

“Jeff, I don’t need a new pair of ears. No more songwriters are needed. I love doing all the writing.” 

Jeff sighs. “She’s not going to write unless you ask her to, maybe she’ll help you see things in a new perspective. You’re close to being done, and I know you hate being hours away from Atticus.” 

Harry is stubborn though not at all accepting what Jeff is trying to say. “I like my team; we work well together. It’ll happen. You have to trust me.” 

“You said that two months ago. She’s coming in just give her a chance.”

Harry groans but nods. “Sure. When is she coming?”

“30 minutes.” 

“Okay, great, let me show you what I have in front of the team before she gets here.” 

Y/N was nervous when she got the call to come for a meeting with Columbia for potential collaborating with Harry Styles. She was over the moon. She loved his first album; his songwriting was impressive. Getting a chance to work with him would be great knowing she’d learn a lot from him, and hopefully, he’d learn something from her. 

Continua a leggere

[angywritesstuff]

incandescent glow (your touch brought forth)

summary -> Your shoulder knocks against his softly, just before the doors to your floor open and you step away. “You should come for dinner, if you’re not too beat. I know Ophelia would love to see her favorite firefighter.”

“I’m the only firefighter she knows.” Bucky smiles teasingly, but he steps out of the elevator after you. You raise your eyebrows and Buck holds his hands up in surrender. “I would love to. Thank you, sunshine.”

or; bucky barnes has a knack for finding warmth. his job as a firefighter. steve and nat and their unwavering warmth and kindness. you, and your daughter, and the sunshine filled smiles and laughs. 

he’s just trying to figure out how to tell you he wants it all with you. [bucky barnes x single mom! reader]

words -> 5.7k

warnings -> firefighter!bucky (this story in no way reflects the actual life & work firefighters do) single mom! reader (daughter is named ophelia) found family, background! steve x nat & pure softness

notes -> hello! my welcome back to writing is a little fun piece with firefighter bucky (bc i have been watching 9-1-1 nonstop) & single mom reader. this was gonna be sexier but i was in such a soft mood, so enjoy.

make sure to check out the bonus scene after my author notes at the end

eighteen plus blog.

— ➶ —

Bucky knows warmth. He feels it all the time.

He feels the heat of the Los Angeles sun beating against his back as he and Steve fight against whatever metal warps in car doors to save lives.

He feels it in the fire that almost burns as he pulls out families because the stove was long forgotten or a candle was just too close to the curtain.

But he never feels the kind of warmth at work that he feels around you. Your smile is always warm and eyes as bright as sunshine.

Bucky knows warmth, but no warmth can make him quite as happy as yours.

Continua a leggere

[angywritesstuff]

adore you

summary // bucky and alpine enjoy their solitude, but the girl across the hall is slowly creeping into their hearts. (bucky x fem!reader)

words // 7.4k

warnings // diverges from canon & no major spoilers.

notes // just thousands of words of fluff bc that’s all i know how to write. maybe one day i’ll venture into anything else. fluffy bucky has my heart 

reblogs & replies are greatly appreciated!

Continua a leggere

[angywritesstuff]

Part 2 of Sunkissed

The continuation to surfer!H and single mom!reader

Warnings: Sexual content, a bit of domination, nothing too heavy

Word count: 10k

Thanks again to my bestie Sarah for beta reading it!!

Read part 1 here, or read on wattpad

The car ride to her place was exciting at least..

Harry was driving as fast as the speed limit allowed, his hand never left her thigh, constantly squeezing it. (Y/n)thought he couldn't get hotter, but then she saw his drivin, Something about the way he would hold the stare wheel made her feel on fire.

When they finally got to her neighborhood Harry was a bit too impatient, parking the car in front of her neighbor’s house.

"Fuck love, you feel so good,” he moaned in her ear, while she was trying to find the key of the house, hidden somewhere in her purse. "You have no idea the things I'm gonna do with you."

(Y/n) loved her son very much, but she was so fucking happy he was with his aunt right now.

"Who told you were the one doing anything?" she teased, looking back and finding those green eyes filled with lust.

When she finally opened the door, Harry was quick to turn her around, putting her legs around his own hips, and pressed her back into the closest wall, closing the door with his foot.

"I know you are a bossy little thing, but now tonight." His lips sucking on her neck, the tongue was caressing the skin. "And damn, your ass looks so good in this dress–"

Before he could finish, one of (Y/n)'s hands went all the way to his lower belly, feeling the wet spot caused by pre-cum. "Let's see about that, alright Mr. Styles?" She heard a moan leaving his mouth when she applied pressure on the growing shaft. “But hey, don't suck too hard, I don't wanna walk around having a hickey.”

"Ok, no hickeys," His voice was raspy, his breath going directly to her jawline. “But I will ruin you, angel.” He kissed her like she hadn't been kissed in years, that kiss had the promise of a long and good night.

Their lips were glued to each other, feeling the softness, and the taste of the shared drink long forgotten.

His hips were grinding shamelessly against her center, his hand holding into the love handles under the dress.

"Where is your room? Or do you prefer here on the couch?" he asked, grabbing her behind.

"No no, let's go to my room, it's the last one in the hallway." She wouldn't do anything in the living room knowing Cauã would be there tomorrow.

Harry was still holding the woman against his body when they got to her bedroom, it was very... yellow. He didn't have much time to think about it, feeling her pretty lips marking him slightly, he hoped the lipsticks would stain on his skin for a long time.

He gently laid her on the bed, taking his shirt off in the process, her eyes met his inked body.

(Y/n)'s nails met Harry's tattooed chest. "I never realized you had so many tattoos, these two birds are cute," She scratched his body until she got into his hips, on his fern tattoo. "But I like those better."

Her hands went to his pants, undoing the zipper, Harry hushedly taking them off, leaving the man in only a black boxer brief.

She was ready to take him out when Harry stopped her.

"No, Petal." He was on his knees, pushing her down to lay on her back. "Did you genuinely think I wouldn't get a taste of you?" he asked, petting her cheek.

She was ready to fight back when Harry intervened, putting his finger on her lips.

"Shh, don't wanna hear anything coming from your mouth, already talked an awful lot tonight."

He lifted her dress, resting the fabric on her navel, she was wearing black underwear, her wetness was already visible. He opened her thighs, sliding the finger up and down the inside of the soft skin.

"You were terribly sassy for someone who is this wet over a few kisses," he hooked his finger on the black underwear, bringing it to the side. "Such a pretty little pussy, can't wait to taste it."

"Would you let me taste it? Tell me."

The girl was already putty in his hand, and she hated it, but she couldn't fight the control, it was already his.

"Yes, yes! Please,” begged the girl, closing her thighs to make some friction.

He only made her thighs open up more, his cold rings on the meaty flesh. "Oh, look at you saying please, you must really be desperate."

His lips first met the inside of her thighs, kissing the skin tenderly, his hand squeezing (Y/n)'s hips. "Let me take your underwear off."

(Y/n) raised her hips, and Harry took the fabric off, throwing it on the floor. Suddenly she felt exposed, it's been some time since somebody saw that part of her body, a wave of embarrassment went through her.

But the feeling was quickly replaced by pleasure, Harry was slowly sucking on her clit, lapping his tongue in her warm center.

Harry proceeded to put her legs around his shoulder, making his face go even deeper than before. The woman's body tensed up when she felt his two fingers in her opening.

"What's wrong? Don't wanna my fingers? he asked, with surprise gentleness in his tone.

"It's been some time, just go slow, please" whispered the woman, grinding her hips, but his big hands clutched her, making her stay still.

"Ok love, gonna go slow." His mouth went back to (Y/n)'s pussy, with only one finger making its way into her.

(Y/n) could only feel pleasure. Sweet moans leaving her mouth with every lick on her clit, his finger was pumping that sweet spot inside her.

When he felt she was lubricated enough, he put a second finger, sliding it inside gently. She could feel a warm feeling growing, her high was close.

She threw her head into the pillow, one hand clutching the duvet and the other one pulling Harry's hair, this time she heard one moan, and it wasn't from her.

She could feel Harry grinding his hips against the bed, one of his hands making its way up her body, placing it in her lower rib cage.

(Y/n) couldn't stay still now, as much as Harry's hands tried to hold her. The pleasure was becoming too much.

"Gonna cum love?" he asked, grinning up at her, his finger never stopping the movement.

"Yes, H, I-I need it." Her eyes were closed, and there was a faint red in her cheeks, Harry then decided to be merciful and let the poor woman cum, curling his finger in her sweet spot.

It was very easy to know the places (Y/n) was the most sensitive, she was very responsive over everything Harry did so far.

Good how much he loved those little moans, they would go directly to his cock, making it harder and bigger each second.

"Harry don’t stop that, oh–" her voice seized when her wave of orgasm came, washing Harry's mouth away with her cum. (Y/n)'s back arched in such a beautiful way, her walls tightening against his long finger.

He helped (Y/n) ride out her high, slowly pumping his finger in and out until she whispered it was too much.

As she was slowly getting her consciousness back, he cleaned his fingers with his mouth, drying them on the duvet.

(Y/n) was still feeling the cozy feeling that came with an orgasm when cold hands met hers, making her own hands relax and let it go off the duvet she once held for dear life.

"Gonna hurt yourself if you keep on pulling it like that, angel," said Harry, his face wet with her release and his boxers doing little to nothing to hide the growing erection. "Feeling ok? Want some water?"

"No, I just want you," panted (Y/n). She truly enjoyed how caring Harry was to her, but she wanted, needed more of him.

“Alright, love, whenever you want,” beamed Harry, getting off the bed and picking up his pants, a silver pack in his hands, in a small movement he took off his boxer, his cock now free from the piece of clothing, was standing up above his naval.

“Staring much darling? That does wonders to my ego," he brought the pack to his lips, opening the condom and putting it on his length. “Turn around, hands on the headboard.”

His demanding voice tone was making (Y/n) wetter than she was, she could feel the blush in her cheeks as she did what he ordered, on her knees, hands holding on tightly to the wooden material.

The man was back in bed, his ringed hands taking her dress off completely, leaving (Y/n) completely nude. As he got closer (Y/n) could feel the rubbered head touching her, her body tensed with the sudden contact.

Harry was teasing her with his cock, running it up and down her cunt. “I could swear you would find it hard to handle with all that brat attitude, but look at you, did everything I told you without a peep," he murmured in her ear, “Do you get off by me telling you what to do?”

“Yes, I do, please fuck me.” A keening voice fell from the girl's lips as Harry’s cock slowly sank into her, hands wrapping around her waist and the other met her tit, pinching the rigid nipple. “Harry it feels so good, need you deeper.”

“Deeper? Like that?” In seconds his whole shaft was inside of her, her soft walls could feel every vein. He was bigger than every guy she had been before, so the soreness didn’t surprise her. “Lean forward (Y/n), let me properly fuck you.”

(Y/n)’s knees went back and her arms distanced from each other to gain more balance as Harry practically mounted her from behind, his cooed moans telling that he was enjoying it as much as she was.

His thrusts were fast and hard, the headboard leg hitting the wall with every push, thank god (Y/n) didn't need to worry about the neighbors hearing anything since the houses had a pretty big space between one another.

That also meant they could moan as much as they liked.

"Like that, Angel? Do I make you feel good?" Harry asked amusedly, his knees making their way into the inside of her thighs to make her stay still.

"But you need something more.” He could hear the shallow breaths coming out of her mouth. "Want me to play with your clit?"

"Y-yes, please,” crooned the girl, holding his arm on the headboard for more steadiness, his other arm left her waist, going to her center, her body wincing at the sudden sensation. “More to the side, Harry.” Her small hand guided him to the most sensitive part of her nub.

His hips were rocking into her, moans leavening his mouth as his hand was rapidly working on her clit, getting her closer and closer to her second release of the night while he built his way into his own.

“Gonna cum for me, love? I can feel you squeezing around my cock," he cooed, swirling his hand on her center.

“I’m so close, H.” (Y/n) tossed her head back, laying it against Harry's shoulder, the pit on her tummy getting more intense at every thrust Harry would give her.

“Go on then baby.” Harry’s clumsy thrust indicated he wasn't too far from his apex as well. “Drench me,” he ordered, and for what felt like the tenth time in the night, (Y/n) did what Harry told her.

The bliss washed over her body, her back arched at the same moments her nails pierce Harry's skin, sweet whimpers leaving her mouth as she felt her body going limp as she lost the strength on her knees. Harry held her closer to his body, taking his hand off her wet pussy, placing it on her waist again, slamming his cock into her with more urgency.

“Give it to me, Harry,” said the girl in a tired voice, coaxing Harry to his release “‘know you’re ready, your cock is twitching already.”

“Fuck (Y/n)," he hummed in a deep tone, speeding up his pace, slamming into her pussy while he held her throat softly, his finger leaving marks on her hips. ‘Gonna cum, fuck.”

With two more thrusts Harry high, emptying spurt of spurt inside the sweet girl right in front of him, his hand left her throat as he gave the last push into the girl's pussy. His whole body went numb, holding the girl as they laid on the bed.

They stayed still for a few minutes, trying to regain their breath and sense back to their body

"You good, H?" whispered (Y/n) in a low voice, trying to keep her breath steady. "Do you need some water?"

Harry laughed, trying to get comfortable on the messy bed. The pillows were on the floor along with his clothes.

"Guess I didn't fuck you right if you are still able to give sassy remarks." he answered, standing up, grabbing his pants.

"Are you leaving already?" asked the girl concerned, she knew it was only a one night stand, but not even a bit of cuddle? No nothing? He said he liked being pampered himself!

"No sweetheart, unless you want me to," he picked up his shirt and gave it to her. "Here, put this one, yeah?"

The girl accepted, feeling better having her nudity only to herself again.

"Where is the bathroom, love? Is this door? asked Harry standing in front of the door beside her mirror. "Got a bit of a situation here," asked Harry, referring to the used condom still attached to his dick.

"Yes, feel free to use it" (Y/n) was trying not to make eye contact while he was like that. "Just be fast, please, I really need to pee."

Harry just chuckled. "You are pretty, (Y/n)." That was the last thing he said when the bathroom door closed.

Yeah, getting a house with a bathroom to herself was a good choice, she thought while she was getting her dress from the floor, putting them on her dresser. She also picked all the pillows that were thrown on the ground at some moment of their night.

Fuck, she really had sex with her son's teacher. She was totally gonna get the mother of the year award.

"You can go now, love. I'm going to the kitchen to get some water, gonna bring you something to eat too," said Harry, walking out of the bathroom already wearing his pants, or trousers as he used to say. "Where do you keep your glasses?"

"It's on the bottom shelf, right by the side of the fridge."

"Alright, you wait here looking pretty," he teased with a grin, leaving the room.

She went to the bathroom and relieved herself, when (Y/n) was done she cuddled up to the bed, feeling her cheeks warm by the thought of what happened minutes ago. It had been such a long time she wasn't fucked like that, it was a miracle she could still use her legs.

She didn't walk much but the little amount she did was enough to show how sore she was in between her thighs

Harry came back to the room, holding one glass of water in one hand and an apple in the other. “Ok here it is, eat it up, I know how tired you must be," he winked, giving her the apple and placing the glass on the nightstand, handing her the red fruit, but she declined.

“Thank you, but I don't really like fruits.”

“What? How can you not like them? They are sweet and-” He stopped as if he was thinking of what other good qualities they could have. “Colorful, yeah, they all have different colors, you are an artist, you should like ‘em.”

“Well, they are pretty, but I hate the texture.” She answered yawning while Harry sat next to her on the comfy bed.

He gave one bite on the red apple, offering it to her a second time, putting it right in front of her mouth. “Just a few bits, it has fructose, it’s good for you.”

She opened her mouth, biting it while he was feeding her. After she was done both of them laid together, one next to each other.

“This was just a one time thing, ok?” (Y/n) started saying while she looked at the roof. “This is gonna become too messy, whatever this is, and I just can’t ha-”

Harry placed a hand on her belly, making her stay quiet. “Shh love, it’s late, yeah? We can talk about this some other time, go to sleep, you're barely keeping your eyes open.

“Ok, you can stay and take a nap, but you need to be gone in the morning, understood? My sister is dropping Cauã off at noon.”

“Yeah yeah, know that. I've already set an alarm for 8 pm, now go to sleep.” His hand didn’t leave her body as he said his last words before falling asleep “Jesus you do talk quite a lot.”

(Y/n) woke up hearing a very know sentence, one that made her heart and warm and her happy, but for right now it only made her wish she could disappear,

“Mom!- Cauã screamed from far away, probably the kitchen. (Y/n) woke up abruptly, trying to comprehend what was happening, when she looked at the man lying next to her she understood she was fucked.

She ran to the door, promptly locking it. She didn’t need her son to see his surf teacher snoring on his mother’s bed.

What time was it and why the fuck Harry was still there? She needed to focus on one thing at a time before the boy came knocking into her room.

Clothes, she- they needed clothes.

(Y/n) took Harry’s shirt, throwing it at him while she went to her dresser looking for a decent summer dress “Harry, wake up, damn! Come on, Cauã is here.” She screamed at Harry, hoping the two people standing not too far away wouldn't listen to it.

“Why are you screaming an- oh, you are pretty much naked," he said groggily, a boyish smile on his face seeing the girl’s ass while she was with her back turned to him.

“Can you put clothes on? He is here, hurry!”

“Ok, ok!” he mumbled grumpily, “I see you’re back to being your old bossy little self.”

She was gonna kill Harry, she was certain of it. With a pink dress covering her body, (Y/n) went open the door, but before she turned around. “Cover yourself and do not leave the room until I tell you, understood?”

“You say to me to cover myself as if you weren’t the one getting me naked last night,” he argues, standing up and putting the shirt on. “And I have my pants on, you were the one wearing my shirt, th-”

Before Harry could finish (Y/n) left the room, letting him wait for her ‘call’. Who did she think he was? Some kinda obedient pet who would do whatever she told him to? Harry asked himself while sitting on the bed, waiting.

(Y/n) could hear Jesse’s voice as she made her way to the kitchen, trying to put on the face of ‘nothing happened, 'no, of course, I didn’t spend one night with a man I’ve known for less than a couple of weeks.’

“(Y/n)? Are you here?” Asks Jesse, standing with Cauã in the kitchen. “The door was unlocked, did you let it like that for the whole night?”

“Oh hi, guys! Sorry, I had a bit of a hard night.” laughed (Y/n) nervously while hugging Cauã and greeting her sister. “Must have forgotten to lock the door.”

“Did you guys have a good night? Wanna go out for lunch?” question the girl, ignoring the conspiratory looks her big sister was giving her.

“Lunch mom? It’s 8 am, did you not see the clock?” asked Cauã.

Oh damn, maybe this whole situation wasn’t completely Harry’s fault.

“I-I forgot to check the clock too, I just woke up.” She was not looking at any of their faces, only staring at the wall behind them where Harry had kissed her. They would know she was lying. “But what happened for you guys to be here so early? I thought you said you would be here near noon?” asked (Y/n) to her sister.

“My gig was advanced, I have to leave in 1 hour to San Francisco.” The older sister explained. “Cauã, baby, why don’t you go watch some tv while me and your mom talk for a bit?

“No! Stay here,” (Y/n) meddled. He couldn’t go down the hall.

“Why (Y/n), did you forget something in your bedroom too?” muttered Jesse to (Y/n) in a way Cauã couldn’t hear.

Cauã.

Cauã who wasn’t in the kitchen anymore.

“Harry! Hey!” The sisters overheard Cauã from (Y/n)'s room.

“Harry? Harry as in the surf teacher? What did you do last night?!” Jesse asked, looking at her sister waiting for a response that didn’t come. “No fucking way.” She laughed.

“He was there, ok? We had a nice time and we decided to come here, but he was supposed to leave before you could see him. Don’t judge me ok, I know it’s wrong-”

“Judge you? Honey, I’m happy for you! Do you like him?! Let me introduce myself to him.”

“What? No!”

And just like that, the sisters were heading in the direction of Harry and Cauã’s, the younger chasing the older one.

“Mom, Did you know Harry has a dog named Kiara?" Cauã asked first thing when he saw the woman getting into the room. Harry seemed very unbothered by the whole circumstances, sitting on the edge of the bed with a smile on his face. “She is a golden retriever, isn’t that nice?

“So nice, right Cauã?.” Jesse answered for (Y/n), offering her hand to Harry. “Hi! I’m Jesse.”

Harry grabbed her hand, shaking it. “I’m Harry! I suppose you are the sister? (Y/n) talked about you.”

“Oh, so we have something in common because (Y/n) also talked about you.”

Harry turned his head to (Y/n), who looked mortified and angry at the same time, still standing on the door. “You talk to people about me, sweetheart? That’s so nice of you.” A challenging grin appeared on his face, daring her to be rude to him in front of Cauã, who was sitting on the bed not understanding a thing.

“Mom, I still don’t get it, why is Harry here?”

“He’s my- friend!” she explained, lying to her son, something that she’s used to doing since motherhood came around. “And friends like to spend time together, like you and Clara!”

“But what did you two do?”

“We played games,” (Y/n) answered impulsively with the first thing that she thought.

��What kind of games?”

“Video Games.”

“Mom, we don’t have a videogame," said the boy, looking at her like she was crazy. She could see her sister and Harry trying hard not to laugh.

“Yeah, but Harry has it, but he already put it back in his car because he needs to go, right Harry?” She challenged him back with her stare.

“Yes, sorry Cauã, I need to go back home to take care of Kiara.” He petted Cauã’s head. "but we’ll see each other late today at the lessons”

He left the boy on the bed, standing in front of Jesse.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Jesse, I’m looking forward to gossiping about (Y/n) with you the same way she does with us.” Joked Harry, going in (Y/n)'s direction, kissing her on the cheek. “And it was a pleasure to play with you, angel. Maybe next time we can play Daredevil.”

“Bye, Harry,” (Y/n)'s cheeks flushed with warmth, letting him go alone, he already knew the way to the door anyway. Her sister and son also said their goodbyes.

“You are going to tell me everything that happened when I get back.” (Y/n) was in the middle of protesting when Jesse cut her off. “No, this is non negotiable.” Jesse turned to Cauã. “Come give me a hug bug, I also have to go.”

“Bye Auntie, I’ll miss you.’ mumbled the boy against Jesse’s shirt.

“I’ll miss you too honey, keep an eye on your mom, ok?”

Cauã nodded, kissing her cheek and going to his room.

“I love you, thank you for taking him for the night.” sighed (Y/n), putting Jesse in an embrace.

“You should really thank me, for the scratches on his arm. The night was really good.” Jesse laughed. “Bye, I have to go, and I love you too little sis, don’t do anything too wild until I get back.”

(Y/n) followed Jesse to the door. “Have a safe trip and don’t forget to call me. Hope you have a good job.”

“Okie! Don’t have to worry about me, you know it.” She blew (Y/n) a kiss and with that, she drove down the street, in the direction of San Francisco.

She also noticed Harry’s car wasn’t in front of the neighbor’s house anymore, before she could think more about the man, she received a message.

Unknown number: Hi sweetheart ;) It’s Harry btw.

(Y/n)’s phone: How did you get my number?!!

Unknown number: You had to inform it on the form when you signed up for Cauã’s lessons.

(Y/n)’s phone: Isn’t that a crime? Stealing private information for your own purpose?

Harry surf: Hm… Nah, don’t think so.

(Y/n)’s phone: Alright, what do you want??

Harry surf: I’m pretty sure I left my right sock on your bedroom somewhere, bring it to me at the lessons later, please :D

(Y/n)’s phone: Really, Harry? I won’t show up there with a sock

Harry surf: Well, if you don't THAT will be considered a crime, you’re stealing something of mine.

(Y/n)’s phone: YOU were the one who left it at MY house.

Harry surf: Feisty today, aren't we? What are you saying next? That I robbed your house?

(Y/n)’s: Bye Harry

Harry surf: Don't forget my sock. xoxo

Stupid Harry, (Y/n) thought while bending next to the bed, looking for the stupid sock.

“Hello Miss (Y/L/n) You are here earlier!" said Harry with a grin on his face.

His hair and surf suit were already wet, insicading he was surfing before class, from the blush on his cheek he was there for a long time, even before 13 pm even

“Hey little man, how are you? Excited for waves today?” he asked Cauã who was bouncing on his own feet.

“Yes Harry! I ate spinach yesterday at my auntie’s, she said it would help today.”

“She was right! every green food helps us get stronger, that’s how hulk gets his muscles.” Harry showed off his muscles to Cauã.

“Didn't he get his power because of gamma radiation?” asked Cauã, her proud little nerd.

(Y/n) looked up to Harry with an amused expression seeing his face falling after having his words questioned.

“Yeah, that and broccoli.” mumbled Harry to the boy while (Y/n) laughed.

Cauã decided to go play on the sand near to the sea, when he was far (Y/n) opened her bag, taking off Harry's sock and giving it to him so he could put it into his own bag.

“I thought you weren't bringing it?” Mocked Harry.

“I was thinking about burning it, but I didn't want the smell to be in the house.”

She actually thought about it, but she didn't want to explain to the neighbours why she was starting a bonfire at 9 am.

“You look pretty today,” Began Harry. “I hear orgasmns does wonders to the skin.”

Cheeky jerk.

“Well, I wouldn't know.” shuddered (Y/n).

“Of course you wouldn't be an angel.” agreed with him ironically. “Were you happy with my message today? How did you save my number? ‘Best I ever had’?

“Bold of you to assume I saved it in the first place.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, alright,” laughed him, “So you know, I put a little warmelon on your name.”

She found it funny, but that couldn't begin to happen, or else it would become too messy too fast. She had to remind that he was the surf teacher, and he was just gonna be that.

“But don’t send more messages, okay? Cauã plays on my pho-” She said kindly not wanting to hurt him.

“Don’t worry about it darling.” muttered Harry, not looking at her.

When she was about to respond Mrs Mila arrived, needing Harry’s help to carry her surfboard. (Y/n) and Harry didn’t have any more conversations, just some bickering before the lessons started.

It was a Tuesday and (Y/n) was feeling shitty.

When she woke up to go to work she instantly felt sick, running to her bathroom and emptying her stomach, which was already pretty much empty since she still hadn’t had her breakfast.

When she felt it was safe to leave the bedroom she decided to go to bed again, taking her phone texting her students, saying the class total was canceled because she wasn’t feeling well.

If Jesse wasn’t in San Fransisco she could go to the studio with (Y/n) and give her a hand there, but unfortunately, she was still there, so it was only her and Cauã today.

(Y/n) decided to go to the couch and turn the tv on while Cauã was in his room, playing with her phone. She placed a heating pad on her lower stomach and took her temperature before catching up on a TV show she hadn't watched in a week..

Even Cauã decided to leave him room, giving (Y/n)’s phone back and sitting on the rug in front of the couch, playing with his legos.

When (Y/n) was almost done with season 3, she heard the bell rang and immediately frowned, no one was supposed to be here today, Jesse wasn't even in town!

She put the heating pad in some place on the couch thighed the robe against her body as she slowly made her way to the door. The bell rang a second time, as if the person behind it was impatient she opened the door.

"Hello wh–."

"(Y/n), are you ok?!" asked a very worried Harry.

Harry.

At the door.

At her door.

"I– Yes, I am, what are you doing here?" asked (Y/n), letting him in. "Did something happen?"

"You sent me a message telling me you were feeling bad, almost going to the hospital!" said Harry, he sure looked like he left his house in a hurry, he was wearing sweatpants and a very old t-shirt, was he wearing unmatched sh–.

"(Y/n) damn it! Can you answer me?" The man in front of her looked like he was about to have a stroke, and she was as well, what was happening?

"Ok, first thing: don't scream, my head is killing me, second, I did not send you any messages, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Look at this then," he pulled his phone out of his pocket, showing the big message she sent saying everything Harry informed.

Her mind went straight to the only person that could have done that. Turning around, looking at the boy still sitting on the rug, face screaming 'guilty'.

"Cauã, why did you text, Harry? You know lying is bad." She asked sternly, he had no reason to do that!

She went in his direction, kneeling in front of him, trying to be the same height as him. Harry sat on the couch just listening to the conversation, trying to calm his nerves down.

"I didn't lie, mom! You told me to call auntie if we ever have an emergency, but she's not here so I thought I would text Harry instead. I saw the contact with his name the other day when I was playing Roblox," The boy was rambling, talking so fast she almost couldn't understand. "Don't be mad, mommy."

"Cauã, baby, I'm fine, I'm just a little sick, I won't go to the hospital, you don't need to worry about me," (Y/n) wrapped her arms around her son, hugging him. "You are the kid here, I am the one who takes care of you."

"How did you even get all the words right, buddy?" asked Harry, looking more tranquil now that he realized she wasn't dead.

"I used the voice speech," explained the boy, not looking at Harry's face. " I didn’t know how to spell hospital and infection."

(Y/n) picked him up, sitting him on her lap as they sat on the couch next to Harry.

"Infection? Baby, mommy is only with some cramps and a bit of fever! It's only food poisoning at its worst." The woman clarified, trying to make the boy understand this wasn't a life and death situation.

"Cramps? Like the ones you get sometimes?" asked the boy, meaning the painful period cramps (Y/n) would get sometimes.

"Yeah, but not quite." Laughed (Y/n) brushing the hair on his forehead with her fingers, feeling more relaxed now. She should've had explained the situation to him instead of just saying ‘mom is sick so we are staying home today’

"Why don't you go play in your room, Cauã? I can take care of your mom now" said Harry sweetly, (Y/n) only gave him a side eye.

"Oh, can I play with your videogame Harry? Did you bring it?" Peep the boy with excitement

Not the video game again, (Y/n) thought.

"Sorry little man,I was too busy driving here like a crazy man," joked Harry tickling Cauã's side "But we can set up a playdate, ok? Then you can play all the games you want."

"Ok, Harry, I'll wait for it," said the boy, a bit disappointed, heading to his room.

"A video game playdate?" asked (Y/n), raising one eyebrow. "Really?"

"I wouldn't mind having a 'playdate' with you," he teased, putting his hand on her forehead "Damn, you really are hot, when did you last take your temperature?"

"Earlier today– What are you doing?" (Y/n) asked coldly.

"Looking for a thermometer," hummed him, opening the white box with a little cross on it where she kept all of the medicine. "Found it! Open your mouth, angel."

"What? No? Why are you doing that? I'm ok, I already told you that."

"I say this in the kindest way possible, but you look horrible," answered the man, sticking the thermometer in her mouth, in a very unkind way.

"He, I don–" Before (Y/n) could finish his finger was in her lips.

"Shh, gotta be quiet." muttered Harry

She thought about fighting back, but when a wave of pain went through her body she decided to stay calm. She could kick him out after she got her temperature.

"Just let me take off my shoes."

(Y/n)'s eyes wilded, was he planning to stay?

The thermometer's noise went off, indicating it was done. She had a fever of 102. Great, just great, it was worse than before.

"How bad is it?" asked Harry, taking the object from her, looking at the small numbers

"Not that bad, I'm gonna put an ice pack on my head and take some medicine, I'll be fine tomorrow, so you can go."

"Go? Go home? I already drove all the way here, plus, I don't think it's safe to leave you alone. And before you can say anything, what if you get worse? What if you end up needing to go see a doctor?" Questioned Harry putting the thermometer away.

(Y/n) just cuddled up more to the couch, bringing the fluff blanket closer to her. She just wanted to rest for a bit, having Harry there wasn't that bad. She could take a nap for a few hours and wait until her fever came down.

"Alright, but only for Cauã, don't want him feeling scared," mumbled (Y/n), already drifting to sleep.

"Yeah, only for Cauã," Agreed Harry with a small package of medicine in his hand, "Put your heating pad back on your tummy and take these pills, they are supposed to help."

(Y/n) hugged the pad into her lower stomach, taking the pills with the water bottle Harry gave to her.

After (Y/n) closed her eyes Harry decided to organize the house a bit, putting plates and toys away, he noticed a lot of her art stuff was on the kitchen table.

Some papers were scrawled over as if she gave up on the drawing, but the ones who weren't, were pretty and colorful, she really was a talented little artist.

He had the chance to peek at some sketches she was doing when they were at the beach, but seeing them from close was way better.

Harry decided not to move any of her pencils and paints, concentrating on the kitchen with some plates waiting to be cleaned.

Their whole house had a lot of colorful decorations and plants. Very different from Harry's house, which was very simple, only having furniture and white walls.

(Y/n) could bring color to his life, they could bring color to his life.

Harry didn't consider himself lonely, he had made a lot of new friends once he got into UCLA, and kept the closest relationship he could to his family, considering the distance.

But surely moving from London all the way to sunny California made a real change in his social life. It wasn't necessarily bad, Harry had more time to focus on his surfing, something that he couldn't do in England.

The championship was almost there, Harry needed to use all of his time to practice and exercise, and still, here he was, taking care of his mom's student who he also had sex with days ago.

Well, she was more than a mom's student, he was very aware of that but (Y/n) was always so persistent to build a barrier between them.

Harry knew by what she told him at the bar that her past relationships didn't end up well, but if she could give him a chance he could show that he would never treat her or Cauã badly.

It was weird to Harry, to care for someone he knew for a short amount of time, but the way she talked about art and surfing to Cauã at the beach made Harry feel warm inside.

She had a beautiful way of seeing life and a more beautiful way to express what she saw in beautiful drawings.

Maybe people do fall in love with people's passions.

(Y/n) woke up after a long nap feeling a little better. She wasn’t feeling that hot sensation of fever in her face or the discomfort in her stomach.

When she opened her eyes the luminosity didn’t ache in her head anymore, so she could focus on the scene in front of her.

Harry and Cauã playing lego on the floor, talking in low tones as if to not wake her up, Cauã’s glasses were too big for his face, falling every time he looked down, she needed to get him new ones. She was a bit surprised Harry was still there.

“Mom! You are awake.” Screamed the boy once he saw his mom’s eyes open, he suddenly jumped on (Y/n), giving her a big hug.

“Hey man, you gotta be careful with her, ok?” laughed Harry, picking the boy from (Y/n)’s lap , placing him on her side of the couch, forgetting the legos on the floor.

(Y/n) thanked him for that, Cauã was growing, getting heavier and taller every day, but he acted like he was still small, well, he will certainly always be her baby, anyways.

“Sorry, mom.” Apologized to the boy. “Are you feeling better?”

She sat up upright, making more room for Cauã and Harry to be comfortable on the couch. “I am Love. My body is still a little sore but I’ll be brand new tomorrow.”

“I took your temperature again while you were sleeping, you got down to 101, so it’s getting down.” Answered Harry, smiling sweetly at her. “I also made mac and cheese! Cauã said you two liked it. The table is already set so come on.”

Damn, he was being nice, too nice. “Yeah, mac and cheese is our favorite.” Answered (Y/n), taking off the blanket from her body, pushing her body out of the couch, failing miserably. She was still feeling weak.

Harry made his way to (Y/n), grabbing her arms gently lifting her off the furniture.” Once you eat you’ll be even better.” comforted him, helping her sit on the table.

“I could do that myself," said the girl grumpily, but accepted the help.

“Yeah, right,” Harry said ironically, bringing three plates of food to the table, one for each person, his head going in Cauã's direction. “Alright little man, I need you to tell me what you think of it, alright? Your opinion is very valid to me.” Joked him to Cauã, who smiled devouring the food, (Y/n) and Harry did the same.

“I think it’s good, but it needs more salt," said the boy, a wise look on his face, as if he was judging plates in Masterchef.

“More salt? Of course not! It has the right amount,” (Y/n) protested before Harry could say anything. “You can’t eat too much salt, or else you're gonna have high blood pressure before you turn ten.”

“Sweetheart, please. This is a safe zone where everybody can express their true feelings, right?” The grin on his face indicated the true feelings he was talking about weren’t about the mac and cheese.

(Y/n) just rolled her eyes, continuing to eat her food until suddenly Cauã stopped, pointing at Harry's arm, a confused look on his face.

“Harry! Is that a naked lady on your arm?” He was sitting on his knees on the chair, trying to get a closer look.

Harry chuckles, putting his arm below the table so the boy wouldn’t see it. (Y/n) wanted to throw her fork at him. Harry was corrupting her son. Ok, maybe she was being dramatic, Harry was a great person, but no mother wants their children looking at nude figures!

“Well, She is not a lady, she is a mermaid. And she is naked because she is half fish, and fish don’t wear clothes," explained Harry, looking at (Y/n), asking her if his explanation was good enough, she just nodded, going back to her mac and cheese.

But Cauã didn’t do the same, still questioning Harry. “But Ariel is a mermaid and she wears a bikini!”

“Well, Ariel has decency, different from Harry,” (Y/n) remarked, looking at Harry with a mocking face.

“You would be the one to know about my decorum habits, darling," he mocked back.

"Why don't we all get back to eating?" Suggested (Y/n), trying to end the conversation. To her delight they all did it

'Mom, can we go for ice cream in the afternoon?" Pleaded Cauã, looking at her with puppy eyes, she, unfortunately, had to decline.

"Sorry baby, I'm still not feeling 100% good, maybe another day, alright?"

He just nodded sadly.

"I can take him if you want." Harry proposed. "I can bring him back in the evening, what do you think, Cauã?"

The boy's response was to jump off the chair and hug Harry, who hugged the boy back.

"Thank you, Harry! We can go to the one near the park, mommy's ex-boyfriend used to take me there!"

No, no, no.

This couldn't happen, that's exactly why (Y/n) didn't want Harry to be with her. Now Cauã would get attached the same way he did with John.

Then she would be left with a broken heart and a disappointed child, just like the other two other times. She wouldn't let Cauã get hurt again, she wouldn't let herself get hurt again.

"Cauã, I said no," said (Y/n), a tone she rarely used with him, which made the two boys turn their heads.

"It's not a bother (Y/n), we're gonna have a nice time together." Argued Harry, not understanding why she was acting like that. She was still a bit grumpy, but now she looked like a man, mad at him.

(Y/n) ignored the man, focusing her attention on her son. "Since you are done you can go play in the yard, go on, mommy needs to talk to Harry alone."

"Are you angry mom?" asked the boy, unhooking his arms that were once around Harry.

"No, it's just grown-up talk, you don't need to worry about that." (Y/n) said with a soft voice now, she didn’t wanna upset the poor boy.

The boy made his way to the door, when they heard the sound that indicated they were alone Harry stood up, taking his and Cauã's plate, putting it on the sink.

"Is there something wrong, (Y/n)? I didn't know taking him out would upset you," said Harry, turning around and facing the girl he was so fond of.

"Well, it does bother me. That's why you shouldn't have come here. This–"She made a movement with her finger pointing at her and him. "–Is becoming too messy, exactly how I said it would."

"Well, it's only messy because you are making it more complicated than it should be." Harry talked back, his voice not so calmed anymore. "It's only an ice cream date, I don't see a problem with it."

"It's not only an ice cream date, Harry. It will start with that, then he will start to invite you to pizza nights,'' she explained, moving to the living room, Harry close behind. "Next thing you will be at his school on career day."

"And I would love to be there, (Y/n), I think I made it very clear by now that I want to be there. And I want to be here," said Harry, anger printed on his face. "I am here after all, right?"

"I didn't ask you to be here, I didn't invite you. Cauã did, and now he is becoming attached to you, and that can't happen."

"Damn (Y/n)! You are not scared of Cauã becoming attached to me, you are scared of you becoming attached to me,” barked Harry

(Y/n) didn't answer him. She just stood quiet, tears slowly coming into her eyes. This conversation shouldn’t even be happening.

"Look, I get that you two went through a lot of shit together, but you shouldn't close yourself because of that,” said Harry more calmly now. "You and Cauã are lovely, and you deserve love."

His hands were making his way into her shoulder, holding softly, he could see her teary eyes

"Not everyone will go away. I'm sure as hell won't," he said, trying to get a response from her.

But from her mouth came out the last response he would want to hear.

"I think you should go." She said, taking his hand off her and taking a step back.

This fight would lead to nowhere, she liked Harry, but this was just too scary, she had too many bad experiences already.

"Wh– No angel, come on," he tried to coax her. "Let's talk about it."

"No, get out, please." Some tears were rolling down her face, sadness came into her body as she watched the way his body went rigid.

Harry looked at her, face with disbelief, he thought about fighting her, but he didn't want to make her upset, if they were to figure out what they were, it wasn't going to be in the state of mind they both are.

Harry did what she asked, picking his shoes, heading to the door. He was going to turn the handle when he abruptly turned to her again, tears already making a home in her cheeks.

"I don't wanna bring any kind of problem for you, so I will fuck off if you really want," he said, looking deeply into her eyes." But I want to know you two better, and if you are open to give me a chance I will show you I'm here to stick around."

He made his way out. "You need to take your medicine in two hours, don't forget it,” mumbled Harry for the last time after closing the door behind him.

(Y/n)'s old past made her stay still as she watched the man leaving. She already had to go through that sight a couple of times, but this time she was different. He was the one wanting her and she was the one telling him to go.

Since the fight with Harry the house was gloomy, (Y/n) had gotten better from her stomach bug in two days, but she still didn’t feel good and Cauã was sad because he missed Harry.

The boy was big enough to acknowledge what a fight was, but not big enough to understand that (Y/n) missed him too, even though she was the one who made him leave.

It’s been four days since the fight and (Y/n) would curse herself at least three times a day for the way she spoke to him, he didn’t deserve that, he never made anything harmful, it was only her stupid fear of getting her heartbroken again.

When she wasn’t at work she would spend some time checking her phone, hoping she would receive any messages from him, but the only one who was texting her was Jesse, asking who had the bad fight with Harry.

Bad, very bad, she would respond.

It was selfish of her to wait for Harry to text her, she was the one who screwed it up in the first place, but whenever she thought about calling him she would try to believe their withdrawal was for the best.

Whether it was for the best or not, she was still feeling shitty, and the anxious boy in front of her wasn’t helping either.

Cauã’s dad was supposed to pick him up to spend a weekend, he got his bag ready and was just waiting for him on the couch bouncing his leg.

But the reality was that his dad wasn’t picking up her calls, it was already 5 pm, 2 hours later than what he was supposed to be here. He probably wouldn't come at all.

I was always like that with him, and she was the one who needed to break the sad news to her son. He shouldn't be having to deal with an absent father who couldn't keep up with his promises.

She sat carefully on Cauã's side, she was gonna be her most delicate self, hugging her arms around him. “Baby, I think he is a bit late and-”

“He’s not coming, right mom?” uttered him, getting closer to his mom. “He never does.”

“Maybe an emergency happened, or he got caught up in his work.” (Y/n) blurbed, trying to come up with some excuse so Cauã won’t think he is the reason

“Or maybe he just doesn’t want to be here,” murmured Cauão with a teary voice. “I was so excited mom.”

(Y/n) hugged the boy closer to her. “I know baby, I’m sorry.” Damn his dad, Cauã had nothing of him in his personality, he was the sweetest soul. “What about we go somewhere? Would that make you feel better?”

The boy cleaned his tears with the inside of his hand. “Can we go to the beach, mom? I feel happy there.”

(Y/n) and Cauã haven’t been at the beach since last week, today was supposed to be lesson day, but they skipped since Cauã’s dad said he would come. Skipping class secretly made (Y/n) feel better, she wasn’t ready to face Harry, but maybe the beach could make both of them feel better.

“We are not spending a lot of time here, ok? Just for a bit,” said (Y/n), gazing at the view beside her, they went to the same one as always: Windansea beach. The weather was warm and the sunset was happening, making the sky orange and yellow. She could paint it if she would have brought her little notebook, the one she hasn’t used much lately anymore.

She set the duvet on the sand while watching Cauã building the sandcastles he loved so much, he seemed a bit better, but still looked hurt.

(Y/n) decided to spend some time on her phone, while she was scrolling through her social media she saw a text that Jesse sent with a link, when she tapped it a picture of Cauã’s dad with a woman appeared.

No way he rejected his weekend with his own kid to spend time with her, (Y/n) couldn't say anything, she wasn't surprised by it. Quickly typing a ‘jerk’ to her sister she closed the phone, her heart beated fast as she did it, because the scene in front of her was one she was not ready to face.

Harry. Harry talking to Cauã.

He was here, of course he would be, this is the beach he always surfed! He was even wearing his normal surf suit.

Cauã was talking to Harry, a smile on his face, the first one she saw from him since the beginning of the afternoon. Harry also seemed happy while speaking to Cauã, he always seemed happy whenever he was with her or the boy.

She realised she missed him, even though they didn’t spend a lot of time together. She wanted to enjoy more nights with him, more days.

“Mom! Look! It’s Harry,” exclaimed Cauã.

Despite the fact that she wanted to talk to him, she still panicked when Cauã held his hand, bringing him to her direction. Harry wasn't feeling that great either, a nervous look on his face, not sure if he should let the boy pull him into (Y/n)’s direction.

“Hi,” Harry simply said.

He looked beautiful, his wet curls on his temples and his eyes a bit red, probably irritated by the salty water, making his green eyes even more noticeable.

“Hi Harry,” she said uncomfortably. “I didn’t expect to meet you here.”

Liar.

He looked into her eyes, smiling softly while caressing Cauã’s hair. “Didn’t expect either, you guys didn’t show up today, though you had given up on surfing.”

“Oh no! Cauã’s dad was supposed to pick him up today, but something unexpected happened," explained (Y/n), hoping he would pick up by her voice that it wasn’t a good subject to talk about while Cauã was here.

She knew he understood when his face quickly changed to a worried one. “That’s bad, huh buddy? I’m sorry.” murmured Harry. “Sometimes my dad couldn't hang out either, but you know what helped? Surfing.”

“I’m sorry your dad didn’t show up too Harry,” whispered the sweet boy sincerely. “Maybe we can surf together? Like right now?” Hoped the boy really has been enjoying surfing more lately.

“Is that alright with you? Taking him surfing? He can have my surfboard,” Suggested Harry, with uneasiness, looking at (Y/n).

(Y/n) just stared at the man. The one who went to her house just because her son called him, the one who made her feel beautiful and talented, the one who gave love and kindness to her little family and never waited for anything in return.

She needed to be brave, she needed to be open, even if she was scared. Because Harry was worthy, she always knew he was.

“Yeah, it’s alright, he can surf with you," said the girl, feeling her heartbeat fast. ”And maybe an ice cream date after, if you are not too busy?” Mumble (Y/n), feeling like a high schooler asking their crush for prom.”

Harry’s eyes went wild, he stared at her for a few seconds, until his face broke into a smile.

“You know I’m never too busy for you, angel.”

(Y/n)’s face mirrored his, smiling at him softly.

They were going to be ok.

“I’m gonna get a mint ice cream, alright mom?” said Cauã in excitement.

“Ok, baby, you can get whatever you want,” laughed (Y/n) still looking at Harry.

The man stopped staring when two little hands started pulling Harry. “Wow, calm down man, when did you get so strong?” joked Harry. “Bet I can get to the sea faster than you.”

“No way!” screamed Cauã, running down the beach while Harry chased him with his surfboard in hand.

(Y/n) just stood back laughing, watching the two boys she was so fond of having the time of their life. She still didn’t know what Harry and her were, but that was okay, they would learn their way around each other.

What matters is that she took the first step, and Harry was there waiting for her.

She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard Harry calling her, pointing to his right where Cauã was riding a small wave for the first time without falling.

(Y/n) started cheering him.

If Cauã could stick up to surfing, she could stick up with Harry.

[angywritesstuff]

Masterlist of Fic Recs

Every writer mentioned is so talented and I highly recommend liking,reblogging and following them they all deserve it!!!

Actress/Singer/Model/Influencer/Famous!Reader

Age Gap 

Angst 

Assistant!Reader

Baker!Harry/Baker!Reader

Boxer/Personal Trainer/Athlete!Harry

Cheater!Harry & Cheater!Reader

CEO/Business/Boss Harry 

College/Uni!Harry

Dads Best Friend

Enemies to Lovers

Fics Inspired by Taylor Swift Songs

Florist!Harry/Florist!Reader

Frat Boy 

Friends to Lovers 

Highschool!Harry

Mafia/Gang/Mob 

Professor/Teacher!Harry 

Roommates 

Royalty

Single Parent 

Soulmates AU

Sugar Daddy!Harry

[angywritesstuff]

sunshine (part 2)

In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine (part 1)

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Y/n’s apartment is filled with a bunch of people she doesn’t know. Maddie has a bunch of people over – not really a party, but a fairly large gathering. A few of her school friends, a couple of her co-workers…. nobody that y/n is really close with, though. 

That’s why she locked herself in her room, away from the music and the stuffy, smoke-filled air. She said her polite hello and everything, of course! But… she just wasn’t in the mood to hang out with Maddie’s friends. They weren’t really y/n’s type of people, and the smell of weed is giving her a terrible headache. 

She bunches up her hair in her fists as she stares at the math problem in front of her. She had been able to do integrals just fine with Harry, but when you add trig into the equation? She’s thoroughly fucked. Not even The Organic Chemistry Tutor could help her work through this problem. 

A knock on her door makes her jump. “Come in,” she says politely, though her brows are still furrowed grumpily as she stares at the calculus in front of her. 

“S’this room taken?” a deep voice murmurs. 

She whips her head around, heart fluttering excitedly in her chest. “Harry,” she says softly. “What are you doing here?”

“Maddie invited Blake,” he says, sitting down on her bed. “And Blake invited me.” 

Oh. She should’ve known. 

She rolls away from her desk and faces Harry, who’s making himself more than comfortable on her bed, laying down with his head on her pillow. “Smells like shit out there,” he grunts. 

“Yeah,” she shrugs. She’s accepted that her apartment will always reek of weed, no matter how hard she tries to get rid of the smell. “Did you smoke anything with them?” she asks. 

“No, not in the mood.” Honestly, the only reason he decided to come over with Blake was because he knew that he’d be able to go chill in y/n’s room. Hanging out in Maddie’s smelly apartment was the last thing he wanted to do on a Thursday night, but… he knew y/n would be there, sitting quietly in her room like the good girl she is. “Did you?”

“No.” She fiddles with her fingers. “I– I don’t smoke.”

He snorts. “You don’t smoke but you live with Maddie?” Maddie cannot survive two seconds without her vape. “That doesn’t make sense.” 

“The smell of it gives me a headache,” she tries to explain. 

“Your apartment literally always smells like weed,” he deadpans. 

She blinks. “Yeah…” she trails off quietly. “If I close my door though the smell isn’t that bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “What are you working on?” he asks, pointing to the textbook sitting on her desk.

“Um– math.” His lips quirk up, while she pouts. “S’not making sense again.”

“Lemme see,” he says, sitting up. She looks at him for a second, not moving, but when he nods towards her ipad again she scrambles to pick it up and sit next to him on the bed. 

“So, what were you going to try and do?” he asks, grabbing her pen. She’s hyper aware of how their thighs are touching, how she can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Um… I feel like I need to use one of the trig rules here but I can’t think of any that would do anything here.” 

“Okay you’re right… the issue is that none of your sins or cosins fit any of the rules. But you can break cos^3x down into cos^2x times cosx, right?” 

“Okay…” she looks up at him like a lost puppy, still not fully getting it. 

“Do you have any trig identities with cos^2x?”

“Um…” she shuffles through her notes, “ cos^2x equals 1 minus sin^2x?”

He nods his head, “yeah. So now that everything is in terms of sin, you can do a u-sub.”

“Oh,” she blinks quietly, staring down at the paper. “Why’s it so easy when you explain it?” 

He shrugs, leaning back down onto her bed, “y’just need a lot of practice.”

The bottom of his shirt rises up as he puts his hands behind his head, revealing a pair of black ferns that point towards a yummy v-line. Y/n tries her best not to look, but she’s reminded of the night where she showed up to his apartment to pick up Maddie… how he’d been shirtless, his abdomen so chiseled and firm. The swallows on his collarbones, the butterfly that seemed to jump with every breath. She finds herself getting a bit short of breath as she thinks about all of the things hidden beneath his shirt currently.

That’s the thing about being a touch-deprived, romantic girl like y/n. The littlest things get her going. 

He was nice to her once, helped her with her math homework and comforted her when she cried, and now her heart flutters like crazy when she sees him. Just the smallest rise of Harry’s shirt has her spiraling. 

She can’t help but notice the way his biceps bulge subtly as he puts his hands behind his head, and finds herself overwhelmed with the fact that this boy – an attractive boy – was just laying in her bed casually.

She knows it’s no big deal for Harry, he’s probably just in here because the living room stinks and he needs to clear his head. But for her, it’s a lot. She never has boys in her room, has never had a romantic interaction with a boy. Hasn’t even been kissed. It’s always just very friendly – getting notes from a guy in her class, joking around with some of Maddie’s friends. She’s never had a boy talk to her any more than that. 

Harry, though… Harry comes into her room and talks to her even when there’s a whole party going on outside. He kept her company when she was stranded at his apartment, he took her home and took care of her when she was drunk and emotional. It probably meant nothing to him, but the way he grabbed her ankle and told her to lie down when he was helping her into bed was one of the most tender things she’s ever experienced. He put his hand on her waist, and held her arm while she stumbled, he’d guided her through the door with his hand on the small of her waist. 

And when he saw her crying at the library, he came over and talked to her. Comforted her and let her rant about her classes. He’d let her into his room and helped her with her homework, murmured soft praises to her when she got a question right, his arm brushing against hers, or his chest rubbing against her shoulder. 

The stupidest little things, that are probably so insignificant for him, have been on her mind for days.

“Hey,” Harry says, snapping her out of her daydreams. She tears her eyes away from his ferns embarrassedly, hoping he didn’t notice. “What are you thinkin’ about?”

She averts her eyes, looking down at her bedsheet. “Um, nothing.”

He quirks his brows. “Nothing?”

“Mhm,” she nods her head innocently.

‘Really?” he asks again, his lip twitching with the slightest hint of amusement, sitting up on his elbows now. He raises himself up so that they’re face to face. He’s not an idiot.

She bites her lip nervously, and her heart stops when Harry’s eyes flicker down to watch. He stares at her with a strange look in his eye… a glimmer in them that she’s only ever read about in books. His eyebrows furrow as though he’s deep in thought, eyes still glued to her lips. 

She wonders if she’s hallucinating when he leans in. 

She thought she was being silly for starting to feel things for him – that she was just being classic y/n, crushing on a guy even though she knows she’s too shy to ever make a move. Now, with how close he is, she can see every freckle on his tan skin, every lash that frames his bright green eyes. She breathes with a tight chest, swallowing thickly as her eyes flicker between his, wide and curious. His eyes still haven’t left her lips.

Her heart stutters as his large hand makes its way to her thigh, his palm warm and smooth, gently grazing her skin. He unconsciously inches closer and closer, incapable of pulling his eyes away from her mouth. 

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and finally looks her in the eye. His irises have turned a dark green, pupils dilated, and his breathing has deepened. She has no idea what’s going on in his head, but he looks serious. Deep in thought. His hand still rests on her thigh, the contact sending sparks of electricity all over her body, especially when his fingers gently start to trail upwards. 

Her eyes flutter shut as she tries to take deep, calm breaths, but he’s gotten so close that she can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, inhaling his every exhale. It makes her lightheaded. He’s so close… so, so close…

A loud pounding on the door makes y/n jump away from him. 

Her eyes are blown out when she jerks them open, her heart pounding harshly with anticipation that’s been left unsatisfied. “Who is it?” she calls out with a shaky voice. 

Harry hasn’t moved an inch. He sits there and stares at her, hand still on her thigh. 

“Is Harry in there?” Maddie yells. “Blake is ready to go.”

He brings a hand up and tugs on her bottom lip with his thumb, then watches it bounce back into place, hypnotizing himself with the sight. Y/n, unable to get any words out, sits there and watches him as he stares at her lips.

“Hellooo?” Maddie obnoxiously yells again.

Harry’s nose flares and he shuts his eyes, frustratedly pulling himself away from y/n. She says nothing, still in a daze, watching as he leaves her bed. He stands and runs a hair through his messy curls, before heading towards the door and opening it. Maddie stands in front of the door with her fist raised, ready to knock on the door again. 

“Calm down,” he says, eyeing her coldly. Maddie rolls her eyes and walks away to tell Blake that she found Harry.

He turns around for a moment and glances at y/n. “See ya,” he says. 

She blinks, her hand coming up to touch her lips, searching for some confirmation that this was real and she hadn’t imagined it. “Bye,” she nearly whispers, breathless. 

The door shuts with a click and she finds herself alone with her thoughts. Her math homework sits abandoned on her bed, and will probably remain untouched for the rest of the night.

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Finally, y/n has Harry all to herself.

She’d been dancing around him all night, constantly catching his eye from across the room in a game of cat and mouse. He watched her from the corner of the room he was stationed in with his dark eyes, a teasing smirk on his face. He knew what she was doing – trying to distract him. It was working. 

He watched her as she mingled and talked, watched as she sipped on her drink, watched as she weaved her way through the passes of people in her apartment, pushing past the hot bodies and sweaty skin until she disappeared in her room. 

He followed her in, less than a minute later.

She hears him walk into the room, the sound of him turning the lock and his heavy footsteps approaching her. A shiver runs down her spine when his hands grab her shoulders from behind, goosebumps rising on her arms almost instantaneously. His firm front pushes against her back, toned stomach pressed against the curve of spine. 

His fingers are warm and gentle on her shoulders, comforting yet teasing at the same time. He doesn’t hold her firmly – his featherlight touch more tantalizing than any other form of contact. These light, delicate brushes of his skin keep her on her toes, never knowing what to expect next. She holds her breath as his fingers travel from her shoulders, down the length of her arms. 

Suddenly, she feels his lips against her ear. She can’t help the soft, aroused breath that leaves her as his lips skim the shell of her ear. He chuckles, low and taunting, and she can feel the deep reverberations of his chest against her back.

“I’ve been waiting f’this,” he murmurs softly. His warm breath tickles her ear, sending waves of pleasure straight down to her core, and his hands have migrated from her arms to her hips now. He grips them, fingers digging into the soft flesh there, and pulls her back, grinding her into his front. She swallows a whimper down, eyes fluttering shut. A hard bulge presses against her ass, and she can’t resist the urge to press back on it, wriggle her hips even though Harry’s holding her still. “You’ve been teasing me…” he presses a kiss right underneath her earlobe. “Playing all innocent when I know you’re actually filthy.” Another kiss, and another kiss, trailing his lips down the curve of her neck.

She lets out a pathetic, shaky whimper, and it makes him chuckle tauntingly. “Your head is just filled with dirty thoughts, isn’t it?” Her knees go weak as he wraps a hand around her throat, tilting her head to the side so that he can look at her. “Bet you’re just dying for me to fuck you.” 

Her eyes are wide and round, and her entire body turns into jelly. The only reason she’s standing right now is because Harry’s holding her up. She can’t get any words out, pathetically wrapped around his finger. She looks up at him with a pleading gaze, begging him to do something… anything…

The sound of her 8 AM alarm yanks her straight out of dreamland.

Her eyes are bleary as she frantically looks around her bed, gathering her bearings. She has to triple check that Harry isn’t anywhere in her room – looking at every corner and patting around her sheets as well – before she can confirm that it was all a dream. 

Oh gosh. This is like the third time this week! 

She doesn’t mean to be having these dreams. It's a rather embarrassing situation for her and she honest to god would much rather just read a couple of steamy romance books about fictional vampires to get the horniness out of her system, instead of having repeated wet dreams about a very real Harry. 

They make her feel icky because, like– isn’t it a bit disrespectful to be having such dirty thoughts about someone who’s just been helping her with her math homework and potentially also kissing her had they not been interrupted? Like what are the boundaries there? You can’t really ask someone for consent to having wet dreams about them… but it’s not like she was consenting to those dreams either! She can’t control what her subconscious mind decides to stir up for her nightly dream! 

She tries to logic it out – how would she feel if Harry was having wet dreams about her? Well… actually the thought of it makes her a little bit excited, cos that would mean he likes her, right? Ugh, no, she’s getting distracted!

It’s all very typical horny virgin behavior. Ever since her almost kiss with Harry, her mind has been in shambles. Her first issue is trying to wrap her head around the entire thing – had Harry actually wanted to kiss her? She hadn’t made that up, right? 

She’s replayed the night a hundred times in her head. Remembers exactly how his hand felt on her thigh, how he’d stared at her lips, how their eyes had fluttered shut, how their noses brushed… all the things she’s read about in her books! All the ingredients for a first kiss! 

How tragic that it’d been interrupted. She thinks that’s why her brain has been overly active this past week – her subconscious has been trying to fulfill the insatisfaction she felt when she jumped away from Harry, just seconds before their lips touched. It feels like she’s been edged over and over again and been denied an orgasm five times – but the orgasm is her first kiss and she’s being edged by Maddie, who stole that kiss away by knocking on her door! 

She flops around in her bed frustratedly, smushing her face into her pillow with a sad groan. What if Harry doesn’t wanna kiss her the next time he sees her? What if this was a one time opportunity? She doesn’t want to sound desperate… but she really wanted to kiss Harry! She’d be really sad if it was just a whim of the moment kinda thing. 

But also… if it wasn’t just a one time thing… if he did actually want to kiss her… well how was she gonna end up in the situation to be kissed by him again? 

She’s thinking about this way too hard, way too early in the morning. And she’s uncomfortably wet from her dream.

She needs to get herself sorted out. 

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The chair in front of y/n screeches loudly as it’s pulled from under the table she’s sitting at. She jumps at the sound of it, having been too engrossed in her book to be aware of what’s going on around her. When she looks up, she finds Harry standing at her tiny table in the campus coffee shop.

“Can I sit here?” he asks, his jaw tight. He’s wearing a gray Kendrick Lamar hoodie with the words DAMN. written in bold font across the front, his curly hair messily hidden underneath. All the other tables in the shop were taken (it tends to get pretty busy at noonish when everyone needs somewhere to sit and study), and Harry needs somewhere to sit before his next lecture.

She nods, eyes wide like a baby sheep. It’s quite jarring to just randomly see the guy you’ve been having sexy dreams about – especially for someone like y/n who apparently can’t be normal about having a crush or having an almost first kiss. She hopes she’s acting normal enough to not raise any suspicion. 

Trying to not get distracted by his green eyes and pretty pink lips, y/n looks down at the table, but finds herself instead staring at Harry’s hands. He has nice hands, she thinks to herself. The cross tattoo on his left hand compliments his tan skin nicely, and he has these thick knuckles that she just wants to run her fingers over. In one of his hands he holds a coffee cup, and even though she and him both got a medium sized coffee, his drink looks smaller, dwarfed in his massive hands. His thumb is fingering the lid of his drink mindlessly, and she remembers how that same thumb had touched her lips just over a week ago… how he’d tugged on her bottom lip and hypnotized himself with the sight of it bouncing back into place. And while she’s on that train of thought, she can’t help but remember how his hands portrayed such a significant role in her dream last night. Hadn’t she imagined them being wrapped around her throat–?

Harry clears his throat. Y/n glows with heat. She has absolutely no capability of being normal around him. “Sorry, what?” She hadn’t heard a word he’d said in the past minute, too caught up in her own thoughts. 

He smirks. Is she always this distracted? “Just asked how it’s going.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah– good, I’m good,” she closes the book, folding the corner of the page she’s on as a bookmark. “How about you?”

He shrugs. “Just got out of class. Needed a coffee.”

“What’d you get?”

“Just a black coffee.”

She can’t stop herself from wrinkling her nose, “Ew.” 

 He quirks a brow, “Well what’d you get?” “Vanilla latte with oat milk.” Yeah. She would be an oat milk girl.

Considering their recent frequency in seeing each other and his newfound… fondness towards her, he doesn’t find it difficult to start picking and prodding at her, getting to know her. He realizes Blake was right – she wasn’t a super duper shy girl, she probably had just been scared of him. Once he started talking to her and smiling every once in a while, it seems like she loosened up. What used to be painfully awkward conversations have now become free flowing and casual.

He picks up the book she was reading and reads the cover. “Book Lovers by Emily Henry. Awfully fitting for you.”

She furrows her brow, already offended. She hates it when people make fun of her books – especially boys who make fun of her for reading romance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a book lover, aren’t you? Can never find you without your nose in a book.” 

She relaxes. “Oh… yeah,” a soft chuckle escapes her. “Yeah, I guess I’m a book lover.”

“You think I’d like this one?” he asks, flipping through the first few pages. 

“Um… maybe.” She can’t imagine Harry being a huge fan of her soft romance books. “Are you a reader?”

“God, no,” he puts the book down. “Not smart enough for that.”

Her jaw drops. “You are totally smart, Harry! Way smarter than me!” she exclaims.

“M’just good at math,” he shrugs, “You’re little miss smartie, with your color coded notes. Reading your books for fun.” 

She grows shy. Part of her thought that Harry thought she was stupid – not the over-emotional-girl-who-cries-too-much kind of stupid, but rather the kind of stupid that makes you wonder how she even got into this school because she’s doing so bad in math. 

It was a massive hit to her girlboss mentality when she had to ask Harry for help, and even though Harry never actually made her feel dumb when answering her questions… she just had this mean voice in the back of her head that constantly nagged her, convincing her that Harry thought she was a stupid girl who should just give up and drop out. And ignoring that voice is really hard, so…  it was just nice to hear that he didn’t think she was a stupid little baby. It made that mean voice in her head shut up. 

“Um… by the way. My next calc midterm is next Friday. I was wondering if, um…” she tucks her hair behind her ear nervously. 

He fills in the rest for her. “Do you want to revise together this weekend?” 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” she says bashfully. “Your tutoring is super helpful.” 

“You can come over on Saturday,” he sips on his coffee. “No trouble.”

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“Is this right?” Y/n shows her work to Harry, and he nods. They’re both on his bed, except Harry’s lying down with his head on a pillow, scrolling through tiktok, while y/n’s hunched over her ipad. She’s been doing practice problems for the past three hours, asking Harry for help every once in a while. That's how it’s been most of the night – her study session is mostly just him checking her work to make sure she’s not doing anything funky and giving her hints if she’s stuck. 

She’s studied a lot in the past two weeks and luckily doesn’t need Harry to be guiding her through every problem, which makes her really happy. And she’s only gotten a couple of the practice problems wrong! Some of them were particularly tricky and had her stumped, but that’s why she has Harry. He helped her out of roadblocks and kept her motivated. Without him here, she probably would’ve given up after the first question that she didn’t know how to solve.

“You should take a break,” he says.

She’d refused to take any breaks since she got here – determined to finish the practice test that her professor had posted while she had Harry next to her to help. Now that she finished all the problems, she locks her ipad and puts it on Harry’s bedside table. She leans back on one of Harry’s pillows and copies Harry, holding her phone above her face. Except instead of scrolling through tiktok, she opens up her kindle app and starts reading.

He sees the tiny font on her screen from the corner of his eye. “Reading?” he asks.

“Mhm,” she shuffles around on his bed, getting comfortable. 

He thinks it’s kind of cute that she’s always reading. “Is it the same one as last time? Book Lovers?”

“No, I finished that one yesterday! This is by the same author though. S’called Beach Read.”

“What’s it about?” he turns off his own phone and sits up, turning to look down at y/n. Her hair is splayed across his pillows, and her eyes glimmer softly in his bedroom lighting.

She feels a little shy describing one of her favorite books to Harry – she’s often been ridiculed by her friends for being so lovey dovey and reading her silly romance books. But he seemed genuine when he asked. “Um– there are these two writers. The girl writes romance and the guy writes like these serious fiction books. And they’re kinda rivals.” 

He hums. “Let me read a little bit,” he looks down at the screen of her phone. “I tightened my thighs around the sides of his body–” he reads aloud, before she yanks her phone out of his sight.

“No!” she yelps, turning her phone off and practically throwing it across the room. “You are not allowed to read it!” 

He laughs, a fully amused belly laugh, and the sound is beautiful but she doesn’t allow herself to revel in it due to her embarrassment. “What are you reading?” he giggles.

“Oh my gosh,” she hides her face in her hands. 

“Didn’t expect you to be reading such dirty stories,” he teases, “I thought you were a good girl.”

“It’s not all dirty!” she defends herself. “It’s– it’s sweet! It’s a love story… it’s romantic.” Her voice gets quiet near the end. 

Harry’s laughter bubbles down and he’s left with a smirk on his face, while y/n lays in front of him, an embarrassed pout on her face. “M’only teasing,” he says as he reaches a hand out to rest on her thigh, not wanting her to look so sad. “Read whatever you want. Seems like a cute book, maybe I should pick it up, hm?” 

Her mind goes a little blank when his hand meets her thigh, his palm warming her skin once more – just like that night he’d almost kissed her. “Y-yeah, you might like it,” she clears her throat. “S’one of my favorites.”

That same look glazes over Harry’s eyes – that dark look, as if he’s deep in thought. 

She swallows thickly. Could this be it? Her second chance at a kiss with Harry?

She pushes herself up on her elbows, more alert. Her palms feel sweaty and she finds her fingers nervously toying with his comforter. A million thoughts are racing in her head as she searches Harry’s eyes, flickering back and forth, trying to see what he might be thinking of. He’s so hard to read. She feels like she’s drowning in his eyes. 

Almost as if he can read her thoughts, he leans forwards. She hopes she doesn’t look like an over-eager puppy, but her eyes light up and practically beg him to come closer, to just kiss her! He smiles to himself a bit, and obliges. 

With y/n laying on his bed, propped up by her elbows, and Harry already having been sat up on the bed, he doesn’t need to move that much closer for their faces to be aligned. He’s leaning over her, one hand holding him up, while the other hand comes up to her cheek.

She gasps when his large palm comes up to cup her face, his palm on her jaw and fingers sliding into her hair. He inches closer and closer, his eyes fluttering shut when his nose brushes against hers ever so lightly. She can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, breathing in each of his exhales as she tries to stay calm. She forces her eyes shut, her entire body alive with butterflies.

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and nudges his nose against hers. She tilts her head to the side. He teases her for a second, gives her the chance to pull away by just grazing their lips together teasingly, and feels her sharp intake of breath at the contact. He can’t help but smirk against her lips.

With her eyes closed, she’s hyper aware of how it feels. The way his curls brush against her face… the warmth of his palm as he tilts her head upwards… the wetness of his lips as he finally… connects them… in a kiss. 

This was it. Her first kiss. 

There’s not one thought in her head, a stark contrast to how she’d spent countless sleepless nights overthinking the mechanics of kissing someone. She’d always worried that she’d mess it up, that she’d freeze and wouldn’t know what to do. 

But falling into the gentle caress of Harry’s lips is easy. Her nerves spill, her muscles relax, and she just lets herself melt against Harry’s lips. He suckles on her bottom lip gently, folds their lips together, pulls away with soft clicks just to reattach a second later. She sighs dreamily into his mouth and lets herself fall back into the bed, her head against his pillow. He doesn’t let their lips disconnect, following her down and climbing on top of her so that one of his legs is stationed between her thighs. 

She wonders if all kisses are this magnificent, or if it’s just Harry. Is it normal to feel your heart stuttering in your chest, or feel electricity flowing through your veins at just the touch of someone’s lips? Would she always lean her face into the palm of his hand, and let herself relax in the bliss of feeling his lips against hers?

It’s wonderful – a head-spinning, heart-fluttering, electrifying kiss. 

Harry’s hand that isn’t holding himself up comes down to rest on her thigh, goosebumps rising under his touch. His kisses start to grow more pressured, inhaling sharply and breathing heavily against her, tongue licking at the seam of her lips eagerly. His nose bends against her face as he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tastes the sweet chapstick on her lips. Her skin is warm and soft and plushy underneath his touch, and her lips are addictive. 

He uses his grip on her thigh to hike her leg up, fitting his hips between hers and sliding his hand up and down her leg tantalizingly. He can feel her losing her breath, so he forces himself off of her lips and starts kissing down her neck. He skims his lips down, presses wet, hot kisses on her throat, his every breath making her core clench. 

She squeezes her eyes shut, eyes rolling into the back of her head, and takes heavy breaths, chest rising and falling shakily. Her hands come up to grab onto him – just hold onto him in any way – and the first thing her hands land on are his biceps. His firm, toned biceps, that are flexing as he hovers above her. In an effort to feel more grounded, she squeezes her fingers, but it just ends up making her even more lightheaded because god he’s so strong and muscular and he’s kissing her right now! 

She’s overwhelmed and her head is spinning and it feels like she’s in a dream, an amazing dream that feels so good and that she never wants to end – she can smell his aftershave and his shampoo and his overall yummy boy smell, and her lips are tingling with the aftermath of his kiss. She’d always imagined what it would be like to have her neck kissed and sucked on by a boy and now that it’s happening it’s better than she could’ve ever imagined, and she’s so sensitive, and it’s just different to have a real person touching you and kissing you all over, especially someone that she’s majorly attracted to and–

Harry presses his hips into her center and, wow, if it isn't the most arousing thing she’s ever experienced. Excitement and anticipation fill her veins… but then a trickle of doubt starts to filter in. She’d only just had her first kiss, was she ready to go any further than that? 

‘H-Harry,” she says, but it’s more of a moan because his fingers squeeze her hips and he’s kissing right underneath her earlobe right now and it’s sending shivers down all over her body. “M-maybe we should stop.”

“Hm?” He pulls away from where he was buried in her neck, his eyes blown out and lips slicked with a mix of their spit. 

“I-I’m not ready to have sex with you, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s okay,” he says, licking his lips. “I could just eat you out.”

And, god, if that doesn’t make her whimper. “I– no, I um…” she stammers over herself.

He smiles. “What is it?” he murmurs, an amused lilt to his voice.

“I… I haven’t done any of… that.” She swallows, looking at him nervously. Her heart, which had once been racing with excitement, now pounds with apprehension. This is the first time she’s been in this position and she’s feeling so vulnerable. 

It’s extremely scary and nerve-wracking and Harry’s silence is not doing anything to help her feel better.

“You’re a virgin?” he asks after a beat.

She nods. She feels insecure under his gaze, and even though she’s fully clothed, she feels totally exposed.

He laughs. “Are you really?” he asks again.

Her eyes flash with hurt. She just shared something extremely intimate with him, shared her very first kiss with him… and he was laughing at her?

She feels her heart drop, and her cheeks flame with insecurity. 

“Um–" she swallows around the lump developing in her throat. "I should go,” she says, barely over a whisper. She puts her hands on his chest and pushes him away, sliding out from underneath him and climbing out of his bed. Grabbing her ipad, she shoves it into her backpack, along with her notes that were scattered along his desk and her phone lying at the foot of his bed. Her cheeks burn hot and her heart is aching in her chest.

“What?” He doesn’t challenge her when she pushes him away, but he stares at her with his eyebrows furrowed, confused at the sudden mood shift. “What happened?”

She doesn’t answer. Her throat is hurting, the painful lump a tell-tale sign of the tears getting ready to fall.

“Y/n?” he asks again, getting off his bed and walking towards her. All amusement has left his face, brows furrowed in a concerned manner. She shrugs him off when he approaches her.

“Don’t.” She feels embarrassed, her mind only filled with insecurity. He was making fun of her for being a virgin, teasing her. As if she wasn’t already embarrassed enough about it herself.

She’d planned on calling Maddie to come pick her up when she was ready to go, but it doesn’t matter anymore. She leaves his room hastily, before any of the tears can fall, and nearly runs out of his apartment. 

She’ll walk home. 

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OMG!!! HOPE U GUYS LIKED ITTTTTT HEHEHEHE :-) part 3 is up on my patreon already and will come to tumblr next saturday (augsut 5) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u think and give her a rb and a comment i LOVE U GUYS SO SO MUCH!!!!

sunshine (part 3) - in which y/n just wants to get this whole virginity thing out of the way, and Harry needs to grovel a bit before she forgives him.

sunshine masterlist