bea0206

[bea0206]

All the Way Home

Toto Wolff x Lauda!Reader

Summary: growing up, you were the closest thing to a princess the paddock had, but then your Opa died and your father stole everything that was supposed to be yours while making sure to ship you far away from everything you called home … until a chance encounter with Toto brings back hope you were too afraid to feel for years

“You know,” Toto mutters, flicking a drop of latte foam off his blazer, “I think this is the universe telling me to stop drinking oat milk.”

You blink up at him, brows lifted, expression somewhere between mortified and amused. “Or maybe just … stop walking while texting.”

The coffee has already started to soak into his shirt. You’re holding what’s left of yours — lid cracked, brown ring around the rim, paper sleeve twisted halfway off. The crowd of students on Harvard Yard swirls around you like you’re a rock in a stream.

He squints at you. There’s something — some flicker of recognition behind his eyes. And for a moment you think maybe you imagined it, but then he tilts his head. “I know you.”

You’re already taking a step back. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes,” he insists. “I do. That voice. That accent.”

“Lots of people have accents,” you reply, sharper than you meant. It’s reflex. That blade in your voice — that edge you honed after years of learning how to disappear without actually vanishing.

He studies you more closely now. Tall and deliberate. Eyes narrowing like he’s squinting through fog.

You turn. “Sorry about your shirt.”

“Wait-” He reaches for your arm but doesn’t touch. “Please. Just a second.”

You stop. Only just. You don’t know why. Maybe it’s the way he says it. Not commanding. Not pushy. Just … asking.

He exhales. “You’re her. You’re Niki’s-”

“Don’t,” you cut in. Quietly. But it lands like a punch.

Toto’s mouth snaps shut. You stare at him for a moment, jaw tight, chest taut with that old ache that always finds a way to crawl back up your throat.

You don’t want to cry. Not here. Not now.

He clears his throat, gestures vaguely to the now-soggy sleeve of his shirt. “You owe me a new coffee.”

You arch a brow. That old Lauda move. He sees it and his expression flickers. Something like heartbreak and wonder at once. “I don’t owe you anything,” you say, but it doesn’t have bite this time. It’s … tired.

“I was joking,” he says quickly, raising both hands. “Of course.”

You sigh. The cup in your hand is still warm, but it doesn’t comfort you. You glance down at it. Then back up.

He looks older. But grounded. Solid. He doesn’t wear grief like you do, but you can see it. There. Behind the smile lines. In the slower way he breathes.

“I didn’t know you were here,” he says, after a long pause.

“Clearly.”

“You’re a student?”

“Yes.” You hesitate. “A bit over a year left.”

Toto’s brows rise, impressed. “What are you studying?”

“Finance.”

He chuckles. “Of course you are.”

You shift, uncomfortable. “Why are you here?”

“Guest lecture,” he says. “Leadership series.”

You nod, even though you don’t really care. Not about that, at least.

“I didn’t expect to see you,” he adds, softer now. “None of us knew where you went.”

“That was the point.”

His jaw ticks. There’s silence between you again, thick and humming. The background chatter of students, birds, bikes zipping by — it all fades for a second.

“I looked for you,” he says. “After Niki passed.”

You feel that pang in your chest again, sharp and raw. You push it down. “Well,” you say, “my father made sure no one would find me.”

Toto’s face hardens. “I know.”

You cross your arms. “Do you?”

“I know what he did. I tried to intervene, but-”

“But it wasn’t your fight,” you finish for him. You don’t mean to sound bitter, but maybe you do.

He takes that. Doesn’t flinch. “I wish I’d made it mine.”

You blink. That hits somewhere unexpected.

“I’m sorry,” he adds.

You shake your head. “Doesn’t matter now.”

“It does.”

“No.” You take a step back. “It really doesn’t.”

He watches you, carefully. “Let me buy you another coffee.”

“I don’t want a coffee.”

“Something else, then.”

You hesitate. For a beat too long. He sees it.

You don’t know what it is. Something about his voice? His presence? The way he says it like it’s not an offer, but a peace treaty?

You look away. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know I don’t.” He shrugs. “I want to.”

You almost laugh. “What, out of guilt?”

“No,” he says. “Out of care.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

There’s a pause. He glances at your hand. The way your fingers tighten around the cup. The way your nails dig into the paper sleeve.

“How long has it been since you spoke to anyone from the paddock?” He asks.

You laugh. Just once. Dry. “Since the day I was forced to leave.”

“Anyone?”

You shake your head. “I cut everyone off.”

“But why?”

You look him dead in the eyes. “Because it was easier.”

His expression falters. Just slightly.

“I had to survive,” you continue. “And no one was going to save me. Not back then.”

He breathes out slowly. “I’m sorry we didn’t.”

“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad.”

“I know.” A pause. “But I still do.”

You look at him. For a long, quiet moment. This man who used to call you “mäuschen” when you would wander around the Mercedes garage in your soundproof headphones, gripping Niki’s hand like it was the only thing tethering you to the earth. This man who used to sneak you chocolate and sit you on the pit wall during debriefs, even when it pissed everyone off.

You exhale.

“It’s been a long time,” you say.

“I know.”

“I’m not the same person anymore.”

“Neither am I.”

You nod slowly. “You should change your shirt.”

He grins. “That bad?”

“Very.”

“Will you be at the lecture?”

You snort. “God, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have three final projects, a CAPSTONE defense, and a job offer for next summer I haven’t decided if I’m taking.”

“Impressive.”

You shrug. “It keeps me busy.”

“Where’s the offer?”

“London.”

That surprises him. He doesn’t say anything for a second. “You’d be closer to the team.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s not why I’m going.”

He smiles. “Still. It’s a nice thought.”

You fidget with your sleeve. “I don’t know if I’ll take it.”

“Well,” he says, “if you do … maybe we talk again?”

You hesitate. That familiar voice in your head wants to say no. The one that’s protected you for years. But you look at him. And suddenly you’re eight again, in the paddock, sitting on Niki’s shoulders, watching Toto yell at a race strategist with one hand while handing you a juice box with the other.

Maybe you’re allowed to want a sliver of something soft again.

“Maybe,” you say.

He beams.

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t get excited.”

“Too late.”

You roll your eyes. “Goodbye, Toto.”

He gives you a little wave as you turn to go.

But just before you vanish into the stream of students, you hear him call out. “Hey!”

You stop. Half-turn.

His smile is lopsided. “You look just like him, you know.”

You don’t ask who. You don’t have to. You nod. Once. And then you’re gone.

But he’s still standing there, dripping coffee and smiling like someone just handed him back something he thought was lost forever.

***

It starts with an email.

You’re curled up in a library armchair, shoes kicked off under the table, your laptop balanced on your knees. The screen glows with half-finished spreadsheets and a cruelly blinking cursor in the middle of a thesis sentence that refuses to write itself.

Your phone buzzes. You glance down, expecting a reminder or another notification about graduation regalia, but it’s an email.

From: toto.wolff@mercedesamgf1.com

Subject: An Apology, Properly This Time

You stare at it for a full ten seconds before clicking.

Dear Y/N,

I wanted to say again how sorry I am — for the coffee, for the past, for losing track of you when it mattered most.

It was a surprise to see you, but a welcome one. If you’re willing, I’d love the chance to talk properly. Maybe I can buy you that replacement coffee after all.

Wishing you a good rest of the semester.

Warmly,

Toto

You roll your eyes. Warmly. He always did try too hard to be approachable in emails. You and Niki used to laugh at that.

Your fingers hover over the keys. You type three words.

I’m fine, thanks.

And hit send. Done.

Or so you think.

***

A day later, another email.

This time, the subject line is just your name.

Y/N,

I hope you won’t mind me writing again. I keep thinking about what you said or didn’t say. I know you don’t want to talk about Niki. Or the past. But not seeing you at races has been … strange.

The paddock still feels like it’s waiting for you to show up. Sometimes I catch myself turning, expecting to see you sitting in your old seat on the pit wall.

You were always there. Every race. Every season. You were a part of this world.

I suppose I just wanted you to know … we noticed when you disappeared. And I’m sorry we didn’t say so sooner.

- Toto

This one sits in your inbox all afternoon. You reread it between lectures. You tell yourself it’s just curiosity. Just nostalgia. But something in your chest cracks open just a little — hairline, nothing dangerous — and you find yourself hitting reply.

Fine. One lunch. You pick the place. I pick the time. You’re paying.

Don’t get used to it.

***

You meet at a little café near campus — somewhere he won’t be recognized, you hope. He’s already there when you arrive, sitting on the outdoor patio, awkwardly tall in a chair clearly not built for someone with his legs.

He stands when he sees you.

“You came,” he says, as if surprised.

You shrug, sliding into the seat across from him. “You wouldn’t shut up.”

He grins. “Persistent, not annoying.”

“Debatable.”

The waitress brings menus, but you barely glance at yours.

Toto peers over his. “You know what you want?”

“Anything that’s not ramen,” you mutter.

He chuckles. “That bad?”

“I’ve had instant noodles for dinner every night this week.”

There’s a pause. Then he looks up. “You don’t have to-”

“Don’t,” you say, sharply. “Don’t offer money. Or help. Or sympathy. This isn’t a rescue lunch.”

He nods slowly, lips pressing together. “Understood.”

A beat passes. The air between you cools. You open your menu again, mostly to avoid his eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he murmurs, “we would have taken care of you.”

You don’t look up. “You didn’t get the chance.”

Toto lets that hang in the air for a moment. He doesn’t push. That’s always been his thing. Niki used to call him the tactician. Playing the long game.

Finally, you sigh. “You know, I thought maybe the F1 world would forget about me. Or pretend I was never there.”

He tilts his head. “You really think that?”

You glance up. “Don’t tell me I’m some legendary mystery now.”

Toto smiles faintly. “Actually, yes. Sort of. You vanished. No one knew where you went. People asked.”

“Who?”

“Lewis. Nico. Valterri. Everyone at Brackley. People from Ferrari. Red Bull, even. You were … part of the paddock.”

“Were,” you say. “Past tense.”

He shakes his head. “Not for us.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you don’t say anything.

The waitress returns. You order something with actual protein and real vegetables, just because you can. Toto gets a quiche. You hand her the menus and fold your arms on the table.

“Fine,” you say. “You want the story? Here it is.”

He straightens slightly. He doesn’t interrupt.

“My father,” you begin, “never wanted me. Not when I was born. Not ever.”

Toto’s jaw tightens, but he nods for you to go on.

“I was an inconvenience. An accident. Opa … he took one look at me and decided I was his. That was it. He raised me like I was a second chance.”

Toto smiles, almost wistfully. “He adored you.”

You nod. “I know. I know he did.”

Your throat tightens. You swallow hard.

“He brought me to every race. Every meeting. Every single Grand Prix. I knew the names of every mechanic before I could spell my own. You were all my family.”

Toto doesn’t speak. Just listens.

“And then he died. And everything stopped.”

You pause. The air turns heavier.

“My father used a loophole in the will. Something buried in the Austrian estate law. It took a week — one week — and everything was gone.”

Toto’s brows furrow. “Gone?”

“Everything Opa left me. Every cent. Every asset. The houses. The trust fund. Gone.” You laugh, short and bitter. “He even took the watch Opa gave me on my sixteenth birthday.”

Toto looks like he’s going to be sick.

You go on. “Next thing I knew, I was on a plane to Geneva with a suitcase and a pre-paid tuition slip. No more phone. No contacts. No access. Just silence.”

“But the team-”

“I wasn’t allowed to reach out,” you say. “He made it very clear. And honestly? I didn’t want anyone to see me like that.”

Toto’s face hardens. “You were a child.”

You smile faintly. “Not really. Not after that.”

He runs a hand down his face. “Jesus.”

You tap the table. “So yeah. That’s how I went from the paddock to scholarship kid eating ramen.”

There’s a silence after that. A deep one. Then Toto says, voice low, “We would’ve fought for you.”

You meet his eyes. “It would’ve ruined you.”

“I don’t care.”

You believe him. But it doesn’t change anything.

“You’re here now,” he says. “That’s-”

“I work three jobs,” you interrupt. “One in the library, one at the student union, and one grading econ papers. I live on black coffee and stolen WiFi.”

His mouth opens, then closes again.

You smirk. “Still think I’m the girl from the pit wall?”

“I think you’re stronger than anyone I know,” he says, quietly.

That hits somewhere it shouldn’t.

The food arrives. You both pretend to eat.

Finally, you say, “Why did you really email me?”

Toto blinks. “I told you.”

“No,” you press. “Not just guilt. Not just Niki. Why?”

He hesitates. “Because I think you still belong with us.”

You laugh. “You don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“I think I’m getting a pretty good picture.”

You sit back, watching him. Measuring. “Lunch doesn’t mean anything,” you say.

“I know.”

“I’m not coming back.”

He nods. “You don’t have to.”

“I don’t want your charity.”

“Then don’t take it.”

You narrow your eyes. “You always this persistent?”

He smiles. “Only for people who matter.”

You look away. Pretend the food matters more than the ache in your chest. But for the first time in years, the ache feels just a little less lonely.

***

Toto doesn’t sleep that night. He tells himself it’s the jet lag. Or the speech he has to deliver tomorrow. Or the espresso shot he downed at 8 PM like he wasn’t fifty-something with a tendency toward insomnia. But it’s not any of those things.

It’s you. It’s the way you said it — flat, matter-of-fact, like you were reciting the weather. My father stole everything. I work three jobs. I live on coffee and WiFi.

He’s haunted by the image of you sitting across from him at that little café, shoulders squared like armor, voice steady in a way that only people who’ve had to grow up too fast can manage. Niki would’ve lost his mind.

Toto rubs a hand down his face and opens his laptop. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for at first. Then he types:

Niki Lauda probate case.

The search results light up instantly. Austrian court records. Legal filings. Estate dispute. It’s all there — cold, clinical, digitized.

He clicks through, heart in his throat. And then he sees it. Niki’s will.

Filed one week after the funeral. A scanned PDF, official letterhead, stiff legalese.

To my only granddaughter, Y/N Lauda, I leave all personal assets, properties, and financial holdings under the Lauda Family Trust …

Toto’s mouth goes dry. There. In black and white. Niki left you everything. Just like he said he would.

But there’s more. A new filing. Contested. Your father’s name plastered all over it. Lawyers arguing that the will was “not consistent with existing family arrangements.” That Niki was “mentally compromised” in his final months. That the Lauda Trust should revert to the immediate heir under Austrian inheritance law.

And somehow they won.

Toto leans back in his chair, stunned. The legal gymnastics are breathtaking. Technicalities stacked on loopholes stacked on decades-old clauses Niki probably never even remembered existed. And no one fought it. No one even appealed.

You were seventeen. Still in shock. Still reeling. And they took everything.

He exhales sharply, pushes away from the desk. Stands. Paces. Swears under his breath. Then he grabs his phone.

***

You’re still half-asleep when it buzzes. Four times. You groan, roll over, slap at the screen until you find the call.

“Toto,” you croak, voice hoarse. “It’s six-thirty in the morning.”

“I read the will.”

You sit up. “What?”

“I pulled the court records. Niki left everything to you.”

Your stomach drops.

“Toto-”

“They stole it,” he says. “Your father. His lawyers. They-”

“I know,” you snap.

Silence.

You rub your eyes. “I know. Okay? I read it too. Years ago.”

“You didn’t tell me-”

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

He makes a strangled sound, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “It matters.”

“No, it’s over,” you say. “The case is closed. It’s done.”

He doesn’t speak right away. Then, “You don’t believe that.”

“I do.”

“You’re lying.”

You grit your teeth. “Toto, I swear to God-”

“He left it to you,” he says again, quieter now. “He meant for you to have it. Every bit of it.”

You exhale, long and shaky. “And he’s dead. And I didn’t have the money or the power to fight them. So I lost.”

“But I do,” he says.

You freeze.

“No,” you say quickly. “Don’t.”

“You know I can help.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not some lost cause you need to fix!” Your voice breaks. “I’m not a team project, Toto. I’m not a race strategy you can outmaneuver.”

His breath catches on the line.

And then, softly, “That’s not what this is.”

You close your eyes. “I can’t do this again. I can’t lose more.”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

Another long silence.

Then he says, quietly, “You’re allowed to let someone help you.”

You hang up.

***

You avoid him for two days.

It’s childish, maybe, but you’re exhausted. From finals, from pretending, from carrying this thing like it’s not heavy. And now there’s him. Toto. This immovable force from your past suddenly crashing back into your orbit, and he’s not like you remember.

He’s worse. He’s older, yes — but not in the way you expected. Not smaller. Not dimmer. If anything, he’s more. More commanding. More composed. But also warmer. Gentler.

It throws you off balance.

The Toto you remember barked orders, clapped shoulders too hard, handed you protein bars and told you to “eat something that isn’t sugar.”

This one … This one looks at you like you matter. Like you still belong. And that’s worse than anything.

Because you don’t. Not anymore.

***

You’re walking across the quad when you spot him.

He’s standing near the gates, sunglasses pushed into his hair, hands in his coat pockets like he’s trying to look casual but failing spectacularly.

You stop. Groan. “Seriously?”

He turns. Smiles.

“I thought you were leaving,” you say.

“Tonight.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Taking a walk,” he says, clearly lying.

You walk past him. He falls into step beside you.

You glare. “You don’t know how to quit, do you?”

“No,” he says. “I really don’t.”

You sigh.

For a moment, it’s quiet. Just footsteps on pavement. Then he says, “I talked to a friend in Vienna.”

Your jaw tightens. “Toto-”

“She’s a probate lawyer. And a pain in the ass. She took one look at the filings and said they reek of manipulation.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“She wants to talk to you.”

You stop walking.

“I said no,” you say, firmly.

“I know.”

“And you did it anyway.”

He looks at you then. Really looks.

And not in that polite, professional, Toto way. This is something else. Like he’s trying to memorize you. Every wall, every scar.

“You shouldn’t have to carry this alone,” he says.

You hate how it sounds. Like kindness. Like care.

You look away. “You don’t get to care now.”

“I never stopped.”

That makes your breath catch.

He softens. “You think we all forgot. We didn’t. We were told you were … taken care of.”

You snort. “Yeah. I was.”

“Not the way you deserved.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, cold despite the sun. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“This,” you say. “This thing where you swoop in like some — some savior. You’re not responsible for what happened.”

“Maybe not,” he says. “But I can still do something about it.”

You shake your head. “I’ve already rebuilt everything from nothing. I have a life now. A plan.”

He steps closer. “And what if you could have your life back?”

Your eyes meet. The air shifts. You don’t say it, but he sees it. That flicker of longing. The one you’ve buried so deep it hardly breathes anymore. But it’s still there.

You look away. “You should go.”

He doesn’t move. Just watches you.

“Goodbye, Toto.”

He nods, once. “For now.”

***

That night, you sit on your bed, staring at your ceiling. Your laptop is still open to your resume draft. You have a final in two days. Your phone is dark.

And still — you can’t stop thinking about him. The way he stood there. Solid. Unshaken. Like he’d tear the sky apart if it meant fixing this for you. Like he cared. Really, really cared.

You remember being ten, sitting on his shoulders after a podium, Niki laughing beside you, champagne sticky on your shirt. You remember Toto carrying you out of the garage when you fell asleep under a desk during FP2. You remember trust.

And now? Now he’s a man. And you’re a woman who’s spent the last six years learning not to want things she can’t have.

You close your laptop and turn off the light. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself imagine what it would feel like to let someone fight for you.

Even if it’s him. Especially if it’s him.

***

The subject line of the email reads:

Austrian Grand Prix — A Terribly Unconvincing Excuse to Kidnap You for a Weekend.

You open it, already sighing.

From: toto.wolff@mercedesamgf1.com

I think you should come.

Not for the politics. Not for the will. Not for me. Come because it’s Austria. Come because it’s Spielberg. Come because the garage still has your name written into its bones.

Take a break. We’ll call it … strategic recovery. I’ll arrange everything.

- Toto

You stare at it for a long time. Your cursor hovers over “delete.”

You hit reply instead.

This doesn’t mean anything.

Y/N

Two minutes later:

Understood. But I’m still putting wine in your hotel room.

- Toto

***

The private flight makes you uncomfortable. Too much legroom. Too quiet. The kind of luxury you were once too used to and now don’t know how to exist inside. The flight attendant offers you fresh berries and coffee in a porcelain cup. You accept both out of guilt.

When you land in Austria, the air hits you differently. Sharper. Familiar in a way that makes your chest ache.

It’s been six years. Six years since you left the track in tears and didn’t return. Since the headlines turned to nothing at all. Since you buried Niki and yourself all in the same summer.

Toto meets you at the entrance to the paddock.

“Welcome home,” he says.

You give him a look. “It’s not home.”

He lifts a brow. “Isn’t it?”

You don’t answer.

***

The moment you step through the paddock gates, time collapses.

People stop in their tracks. A Mercedes engineer drops his clipboard. Another one — the tall one with the silver hair, you can’t remember his name — just stares. His lip trembles.

You nod politely. Keep walking.

Toto walks beside you, a steady presence. Subtle, quiet, unmistakable. His hand never touches you, not quite, but it hovers behind your back like a safety net. Invisible unless you’re paying attention.

You are.

The Mercedes garage comes into view.

You stop. Your breath catches.

And then the crowd parts.

“Y/N?”

The voice is soft, stunned.

You turn. Lewis Hamilton.

He’s in red now — Ferrari. The suit fits him differently, like he’s carrying someone else’s legacy for a while. But his eyes are the same. Kind. Knowing.

“Holy sh-” He doesn’t finish. Just crosses the space between you in seconds and hugs you.

Hard.

You freeze for a beat. Then you melt.

He smells like sweat and tire rubber and something that’s always felt like safety. He pulls back to look at you, eyes wet. “You disappeared.”

“I know.”

“No one knew what happened.”

“I know.”

He studies your face. “You okay?”

You open your mouth. Close it again. Then nod. Barely.

“You’re here now,” he says.

It shouldn’t matter that much. But it does.

***

More people come. Mechanics. Engineers. James Vowles, now in Williams blue. Even Nico Rosberg takes a detour from reporting in the pit lane. They all say the same thing.

We missed you.

Where have you been?

Is it really you?

You smile until your face hurts. Nod until your neck aches. When someone asks if you’re back for good, you excuse yourself.

Toto finds you five minutes later behind the hospitality unit. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay. Just offers a bottle of water and waits.

You take it.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“Don’t be.”

“It’s just a lot.”

“I know.”

You sit on the edge of a storage crate. He leans beside you.

“You knew this would happen,” you say.

“I hoped,” he admits.

You glance at him. “You’re not even pretending this was about rest.”

“Wasn’t my best lie.”

“No,” you say. “It really wasn’t.”

He grins.

***

By the time the day winds down, your nerves are shot. You let Toto walk you to your hotel room because you’re too tired to argue. It’s nice. Warm. The lights glow low. The view faces the hills.

There’s wine waiting. Of course.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he says at the door.

You hesitate. “You could … stay.”

His brow lifts.

“I mean for a glass,” you say quickly. “Just a glass.”

“Right,” he says, smiling. “Just a glass.”

***

The wine is good. Too good. You’re on your second glass before you feel your shoulders loosen.

You sit cross-legged on the couch, barefoot, legs tucked under you. He’s in the armchair, his jacket shed, tie loosened. He watches you like he used to. Carefully. Kindly.

“So,” you say. “This was your plan.”

“Plan is a strong word.”

“Plot, then.”

“I prefer ‘gentle manipulation.��”

You laugh. You didn’t expect to. It surprises both of you.

You sip your wine. “It was nice. Today.”

He nods.

“Also horrible,” you add.

He nods again.

You stare into your glass. “I really loved it here.”

“I know.”

You trace the rim of the glass. “I was going to work for the team, you know? After university. Opa wanted me in strategy. Said I had the right kind of cruel.”

Toto smiles faintly. “He did say that.”

You swallow. “It’s like I lost him, and then I lost myself.”

You don’t mean to say it. But it slips out, raw and quiet.

Toto puts down his glass. You keep talking.

“And I didn’t know how to fight them. His lawyers. My father. They talked about trust funds and family trusts and implied Niki was confused when he wrote that will. And I was seventeen. I didn’t know who to call. I just … I shut down.”

Your hands shake. You place your glass on the table carefully. Toto says nothing. Just listens.

“I hate them,” you whisper. “And I hate myself for not fighting harder.”

He leans forward. “You were a child.”

“I was supposed to be smarter.”

“You were grieving.”

You blink hard. “I thought I could make it all mean something. Like if I just kept going. Got good grades. Worked hard. Became someone worth the Lauda name — maybe it would matter less that I lost everything else.”

Toto doesn’t speak.

You curl your fingers into fists. “But I still wake up sometimes thinking about the garage. The smell of rubber and champagne. Opa yelling at me in German because I forgot to zip up my jacket. You picking me up after I got too close to the pit lane.”

You glance at him. He’s already looking at you.

“I miss being part of something,” you say. “I miss belonging.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. You don’t know why it breaks you.

Maybe it’s the wine. Maybe it’s the room. Maybe it’s just him. But the tears come fast. You curl in on yourself. Press your knuckles to your eyes. Try to swallow it down.

And then Toto is there. He moves carefully, slowly, like you’re a deer in the woods. He sits beside you on the couch and opens his arms.

You don’t hesitate. You fold into him like you’re made to fit there.

He holds you. Not tightly. Not possessively. But completely. Like you’re something precious. Something once lost and newly found.

You cry until your throat hurts. Until your chest unclenches. Until all that’s left is the sound of his heartbeat under your cheek.

He doesn’t speak. He just holds you.

Eventually, your breathing evens. Your hands unclench. And you whisper, “Thank you.”

He says nothing. Just brushes his thumb gently over your shoulder.

You don’t move. You don’t want to. Nothing happens. But everything changes.

***

Cambridge looks different after Spielberg. Quieter. Greyer. Like someone turned down the saturation on the world.

You sit at your desk, textbooks spread open, half-read papers blinking on your laptop screen, but nothing sticks. Not the words, not the purpose. Everything’s a fog of too-late thoughts and echoing memories.

You haven’t responded to Toto’s last message. It’s not that you’re avoiding him — though, if pressed, you’d admit that you are. It’s just that being near him feels dangerous. He makes everything feel too sharp and too soft at once. He makes it harder to pretend that you're fine with the scraps. With the half-life you’ve built out of what was taken.

So you pull back. You don’t text. You don’t email. You don’t call.

He doesn’t chase. But he doesn’t vanish, either.

***

The package arrives on a Thursday. A long, sleek box in matte black with no return address.

You almost don’t open it. You tell yourself it’s nothing. A mistake. You set it on the corner of your desk like it doesn’t matter. But an hour later, when your nerves fray and your hands won’t stop fidgeting, you reach for it.

Inside is a leather-bound book, thick and heavy. Handmade. The cover is etched with the words:

LAUDA: A HISTORY IN MOTION

Your chest tightens. It’s not just any book. It’s yours. Photos you didn’t know existed. Notes in Niki’s handwriting. Marginalia from strategy meetings, race notes, printed-out emails between you and the engineers when you were sixteen and insufferable.

You flip to the first page. A card rests inside, handwritten in firm, slanted script.

For when you miss home.

No pressure. No agenda. Just memory.

- Toto

You put the book down. You pick it back up a second later. Then you cry for the first time in a week.

***

Three days later, a message lights up your phone.

I’m in New York for business. If you happen to feel like taking the train down … dinner’s on me.

You stare at it.

You type: I can’t.

You delete it.

You type: Maybe.

You delete that, too.

You end up sending just: When?

His reply is instant.

Tomorrow. 8pm. I’ll send the address. No pressure. Just food.

***

The hotel is expensive. Of course it is. Glass and stone and sleek grey walls with too many sconces. You feel out of place in your jeans and boots. But when you knock on the suite door and Toto opens it, he smiles like you’re exactly what belongs.

“You came.”

“You invited me,” you say, shrugging.

“You still came.”

You glance around. “This room costs more than my monthly rent.”

“Technically,” he says, stepping aside to let you in, “it costs more than your yearly rent.”

You snort. “You’re disgusting.”

He pours wine. “I’ve been called worse.”

***

Dinner is on the coffee table, not the dining table. You’re both cross-legged on the rug, barefoot, chopsticks in hand, picking at spicy tuna rolls and soft dumplings like it’s a sleepover.

Toto watches you closely. You try not to look back too much. But it’s hard. He looks stupid good in casual clothes — black t-shirt, dark jeans, hair a little messier than usual. His laugh is soft and infrequent, but when it happens, it’s like heat curling in your chest.

He tops off your wine. You sip too fast.

“You okay?” He asks after a long silence.

You nod. He waits. You cave.

“I’ve just … never been looked after by anyone who didn’t think they were owed something.”

The words hang there. Soft and sharp at the same time.

He doesn’t speak right away. Just looks at you like he’s seeing every version of you at once. Then, slowly, he reaches over and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You never owed me anything,” he says.

Your breath catches. It’s stupid, but that one sentence hits deeper than any gesture anyone’s made in years.

You blink quickly. “You’re going to ruin me.”

He smiles faintly. “No, you’ve done that part already.”

You laugh. You don’t mean to. It spills out broken and surprised. You’re still laughing when you kiss him.

It’s instinct. Gravity. You lean forward without thinking. One hand on his cheek. His fingers on your wrist. His mouth is warm. Familiar and new all at once. He kisses you like he’s never known another language, like this is the only word he’s fluent in.

But just as you start to fall into it — just as your hand slips down his chest and he moves closer — he stops. Pulls back. Breath ragged.

You freeze.

“I’m sorry,” you say immediately. “Shit. I-”

“No,” he says, firm. “Don’t apologize.”

He presses his forehead to yours.

“I want this,” he says. “God, I want this.”

You’re holding your breath.

“But not like this,” he adds, softer. “Not while you’re still unsure. Not while you think this is something you don’t deserve.”

Your chest aches.

“I don’t think that.”

He tilts his head, eyes searching yours. “Don’t you?”

You close your eyes. Because yes. Yes, you do.

Not always. Not when you’re with him. But the second he leaves, the doubt comes crawling back. That you’re broken. That you’re baggage. That you’re something people have to carry, not choose.

“You deserve to be kissed,” he says, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, “like you’re not a weight.”

You open your eyes again.

He’s still close. He kisses your forehead — gently, like a promise — and leans back.

You sit in the silence for a while. Breathing.

“You could’ve taken advantage,” you say quietly.

“I’d never.”

“I know,” you whisper. “That’s what breaks me.”

***

You fall asleep on the couch. He covers you with a blanket. Turns off the lights. Leaves a bottle of water on the table.

In the morning, there’s a note.

Didn’t want to wake you.

I’ll be back in Cambridge soon.

In the meantime …

Remember you were never lost. Just waiting.

- Toto

You fold the note and tuck it into the back of the book he gave you. It’s the first thing you’ve kept in years.

***

The call comes while you’re walking out of a seminar, your phone vibrating insistently in the pocket of your coat. You answer without checking.

“Hello?”

“It’s done.”

Toto’s voice is calm. Steady. There’s something final in it.

You stop on the steps, heart stuttering. “What do you mean, it’s done?”

“Check your inbox.”

You already know before you open it. You already feel it, like a shift under your skin.

The subject line on the email reads Final Settlement Agreement - Lauda v. Lauda

Your stomach flips.

“You didn’t,” you say. “Toto, tell me you didn’t go behind my back-”

“I told you I would take care of it.”

“You said-” You press a hand to your forehead, trying to steady your breathing. “You said no pressure. That you wouldn’t interfere unless I asked.”

“I lied,” he says, bluntly. “I’m not sorry.”

You close your eyes.

***

It started two months ago.

You had mentioned it in passing — how your father’s lawyers had buried Niki’s will under a pile of counterclaims, how no one fought back. Because there was no one left to fight.

You remember the silence that followed. Heavy. Intentional.

Then Toto, voice like steel wrapped in velvet, had said, “Let me make this right.”

You’d shaken your head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It should be.”

“It’s over.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

You’d stood then, pacing, angry and cornered.

“I don’t want you to do this out of guilt. Or obligation. Or because you loved him.”

“I’m doing this,” he said evenly, “because someone should have the decency to protect you.”

You winced.

Toto took a breath. “I’m not asking for permission,” he said. “I’m just telling you you’re not alone in this.”

***

The legal battle is fast. Brutal. Clinical.

His team — six lawyers, two forensic accountants, and someone who used to work for the Austrian Ministry of Finance — descends like a controlled fire.

You never attend a single meeting. Toto won’t let you. Instead, he updates you in short bursts. Texts. Occasional calls. Never too much.

He’s panicking.

Tried to get the press involved.

We stopped it.

The judge reviewed the original will. It’s solid. Your father never stood a chance.

You don’t respond to most of them. You’re scared to feel hope. But it creeps in anyway.

***

When the settlement is finalized, your father demands a private meeting. Toto insists on being there.

It’s held in a sterile conference room in Vienna. You watch your father walk in, sunburned and stiff-jawed, flanked by two suits and an ego that’s been allowed to rot in peace for too long.

He doesn’t look at you. Just nods once at Toto.

“She wanted to waste it all,” your father says. “Planes. Champagne. Charity. That’s not what he built the company for.”

“She was seventeen,” Toto replies coolly. “What she wanted was time.”

Your father sneers. “You think this is noble? Giving it all back to a little girl who hasn’t worked a real job in her life?”

“I think,” Toto says, standing slowly, “that if you ever say her name with that tone again, I’ll bury you so far in litigation your great-grandchildren will need passports to find you.”

Your father laughs — short, bitter. “I could’ve gone to the press,” he says.

Toto slides a folder across the table.

“NDA,” he says. “If you breathe a word of this, the penalty clause will leave you selling furniture on Willhaben by spring.”

There’s a beat. Then your father signs. And just like that, it’s over.

***

The accounts transfer. The assets are returned. Property titles. Investments. Control of the Lauda Family Trust.

You are, technically, one of the wealthiest young women in Europe.

You should feel triumphant. You don’t. The moment the final document is notarized, you sit in Toto’s car in front of the legal office, staring at the streets you grew up knowing.

Vienna hasn’t changed. You have.

He’s silent beside you.

“You okay?” He asks eventually.

You nod. “Sure.”

“You don’t look okay.”

You laugh under your breath. “What does okay look like, exactly?”

He doesn't answer.

“I keep waiting to feel like her again,” you admit, finally. “The girl I was. But she’s gone.”

He turns to you. “You’re not gone.”

“I don’t know how to be her anymore. She trusted people. She believed the world would take care of her.”

“She was allowed to believe that,” he says gently.

You glance at him. “And now?”

“Now,” he says, “you don’t have to trust the world. You just have to trust me.”

That breaks something open in you. Quietly. Invisibly. Because it’s not a grand promise. It’s not a vow.

It’s a fact.

***

You don’t go back to Cambridge right away. Instead, you stay in Vienna for a few days. Walk old streets. Visit the empty house Niki left behind.

You don’t cry. Not until you find a scarf of his — still faintly smelling of aftershave — and sit on the edge of the tub in the master bathroom, holding it like a life vest.

Toto gives you space. But he doesn’t go far.

He cooks most nights. Texts you to remind you to eat. Doesn’t press when you go quiet, but he’s always there when you emerge, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

On the last night, he pours you a glass of wine and hands you the scarf you left folded on the table. “You should take it.”

“I don’t want to ruin it.”

“You won’t.”

You hold it for a moment. Then press it to your face.

“It still smells like him.”

Toto nods. “Sometimes I still wait for him to walk around the corner.”

You look up. “Me too.”

He smiles, faint and sad. “He’d be so damn proud of you.”

You shake your head.

“No, really,” he insists. “He’d be furious about what happened. But he’d be proud of how you survived.”

You take a long sip of wine.

“It doesn’t feel like surviving,” you admit.

He leans forward, forearms braced on his knees.

“It is,” he says. “And soon, it’ll feel like living again.”

You don’t believe him. But God, you want to.

***

You fly back to Massachusetts with a new bank account, a new title, and a legal team on retainer.

Everyone treats you differently now. You hate it.

So you don’t tell anyone. You don’t flaunt it. You keep wearing your old boots and your beat-up coat and sipping your $2 coffee because it still tastes better than the espresso in Vienna ever did.

But you write one check. One. To a foundation in Niki’s name. Quiet, unpublicized. Enough to fund STEM programs for underprivileged girls across Austria and the U.S. for the next ten years.

When the foundation director calls to thank you, you hang up before she finishes. You’re not ready for gratitude yet. You’re still learning how to hold good things without flinching.

***

Toto calls on a Wednesday. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

He pauses. “You always say that.”

“It’s the safest answer.”

There’s a beat.

“Come to Hungary,” he says.

You smile despite yourself. “Don’t you ever get tired of trying to drag me out of hiding?”

“No,” he says. “It’s become a hobby.”

You laugh. It feels like the first real one in weeks. You say yes. Not because you’re ready. But because maybe you want to be.

***

It starts with a knock at your door. No warning. No text. Just a steady, confident knock like he has every right to be here.

You open it in sweatpants and a t-shirt from the university bookstore, hair unbrushed, a pencil still tucked behind your ear.

And there he is. Toto Wolff. In Cambridge. On a Thursday night.

He’s in jeans and a black sweater, somehow making it look like formalwear, his hair slightly windblown, hands in his pockets.

“You flew here,” you say, deadpan.

“Yes.”

You blink at him. “Why?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me?”

“I did,” he says simply.

“Did you consider texting?”

“I thought about it. Then I thought, no — she’ll say she’s busy.”

You fold your arms. “Because I am.”

He tilts his head. “Are you, though?”

You narrow your eyes at him.

He shrugs, like he can’t help himself. “Also, I missed you.”

You stare at him for a long beat. Then step aside. “Come in.”

***

You don’t go out. It’s raining, and you’re tired, and everything in you resists the idea of putting on makeup just to sit under fluorescent lights and be seen.

So you order in. Italian. Pasta and a bottle of red.

You eat at the small table in your apartment, legs tangled under the wood, like two people who’ve done this a thousand times.

He keeps looking at you. Not in a way that makes you self-conscious, just … quiet, constant awareness. Like he’s memorizing you.

“You’re staring,” you say, without looking up from your bowl.

“I know.”

You chew slowly. Swallow.

“Toto,” you murmur, “why are you here?”

“I told you. I missed you.”

“You’re not the kind of man who misses people.”

He nods once. “You’re right. I’m not.”

Silence.

Then you push your bowl away and rest your elbows on the table. “Why me?”

He doesn’t flinch. “Because I care about you,” he says. “Because I remember who you were before the world got cruel. And I see who you are now, and I think you’re even stronger.”

You look down at your hands. “Toto-”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” You exhale shakily. “You didn’t see what it did to me. What it still does. You come in and you fix things and you’re kind and capable and impossible not to trust, but-”

You break off.

“But?”

“But I don’t know how to do this.”

He leans in, voice low.

“Do what?”

You look at him — eyes wide, raw, stripped of every defense.

“Let someone care about me without thinking it’ll cost me something.”

He goes still. Then he reaches out, slow and measured, and brushes a thumb against your cheek.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying.

“You don’t owe me gratitude,” he says softly. “You owe yourself peace.”

Your face crumples. God, you’re so tired of being strong.

***

After dinner, he insists on doing the dishes. You try to stop him — he ignores you. It’s so normal it almost feels like something sacred.

You lean against the counter, arms crossed. “Why do you do that?”

He glances over his shoulder. “What?”

“Take care of everything.”

He shrugs. “I like it.”

“No, seriously. Why?”

He puts down the sponge, dries his hands, then turns to face you fully.

“Because I’ve learned,” he says, “what it feels like to be taken care of. And what it feels like not to be. And I’d rather be the one doing the taking care, if I can help it.”

You study him. The lines around his eyes. The way he says things without softening them.

“And what if I want to take care of you?” You ask quietly.

That makes him smile, just a little. A flicker of something. “I wouldn’t mind,” he says.

***

You sit on the couch, side by side. The rain taps gently at the windows. Your knee bumps his. Neither of you moves.

You glance at him. “I meant what I said earlier.”

He nods, not asking which part.

“I want you.”

He turns his head. His voice is gentle. “You have me.”

“No, I mean-” You sigh, frustrated with yourself. “I mean, I want this. Us. Whatever we’re doing. But I don’t know how to trust it yet.”

He doesn’t move toward you. Doesn’t pull or push. He just waits. And somehow, that undoes you even more than if he’d kissed you senseless.

“I’m scared,” you admit.

“I know.”

You look down. “It’s not because of you. I just …”

“You’ve had to survive on your own for too long.”

You nod.

“And you learned not to need anyone.”

Another nod.

“But needing someone isn’t weakness,” he says. “It’s just proof that you’re human.”

You huff out a breath. “Spoken like someone who’s never had their world collapse.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “You forget, I lost Niki too.”

You go quiet.

Toto shifts closer, but still not touching you.

“I know what it feels like to lose the one person who saw you. Really saw you. And then you’re left in a world where everything feels … too sharp. Too fake. Too loud.”

Your throat tightens.

“I didn’t think anyone noticed,” you whisper.

“I noticed.”

You finally look up at him. And when he reaches out, slow and careful, you let him touch you. His fingers trail softly along your jaw, then sweep your hair behind your ear. His hand lingers there, warm and steady.

“I’m not asking for all of you tonight,” he says. “I’m just asking for now. For this.”

You nod.

Then, with aching slowness, you lean in. And he kisses you. Not possessive. Not rushed. Just a gentle submission to something that’s been building for months — years, even.

A truth you’ve both tried to ignore.

His mouth moves against yours with reverence. His hand slides to the back of your neck, grounding you. You fist his sweater, afraid if you let go he’ll vanish.

But he doesn’t. He stays. And when the kiss breaks, he rests his forehead against yours.

“I won’t let you be alone,” he says.

You close your eyes. “Okay.”

***

You fall asleep on the couch, curled against him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders. Your cheek pressed to his chest.

No sex. No declarations. Just presence. Just the soft, steady rhythm of a man who made a promise without ever saying the words.

You’re safe now.

And for the first time in years, you believe it.

***

The wind coming off the North Sea smells like brine and smoke and burnt rubber. Zandvoort is alive, vibrating, a sea of orange and thunder. The kind of race weekend that doesn’t let you breathe unless you’re used to the air here.

You’re not used to it anymore. Not really. But you pretend you are. Because this time, you’re not sneaking in through a side gate, head low, eyes half-hidden behind sunglasses. You’re not here as a memory.

You’re here as someone real. Someone seen. Someone beside him.

You wear black, but the cut of the trousers is elegant, the blouse soft, and your posture straighter than it's been in years. You walk with Toto into the paddock at 10:47 a.m. sharp, his hand at your back as he nods to mechanics and engineers and PR staff who blink at you like a ghost just walked in and decided to stay.

But no one says it too loud.

Toto’s presence is a shield. And you walk with him like you’ve always walked beside giants.

You don’t flinch. You don’t look away. You belong here. God, you almost believe it.

***

It doesn’t take long for the cameras to catch on.

By FP2, the rumors are viral. TikTok’s already clipped a shot of Toto brushing something — dust, or a leaf, or maybe just a phantom — from your shoulder. There’s a still image of you two laughing at something George says in the garage. A blurry video of you standing just slightly behind Toto during a pre-race meeting with the press officers.

Commentators pick it up like they’ve been waiting for it. By the time the race goes live Sunday afternoon, Sky Sports is in full speculation mode.

“… well, she’s certainly not a new face to the paddock,” one of them says lightly. “If you’ve been around long enough, you’ll remember her-”

But they don’t get to finish. Because Nico Rosberg cuts in, voice hard and deliberate.

“Let’s be clear,” he says. “She’s not some mystery woman. That’s Niki’s granddaughter. She grew up in the garage with us. I remember her playing UNO with our engineers during rain delays.”

There’s an awkward pause. Nico keeps going.

“She disappeared because people failed her. That’s not gossip — that’s fact. She was seventeen when her life got pulled out from under her. And now that she’s back? Maybe the more respectful thing would be to welcome her, not turn her into a headline.”

Even the producer doesn’t know how to cut him off. Nico leans back in his chair like he just did what he’s always done — drove straight through the bullshit with no brakes.

You watch it later in your hotel room, stunned.

Toto grins at the screen. “Remind me to send him a bottle of something expensive.”

***

The paddock changes after that. The questions don’t stop — but they get quieter. People look you in the eye when they greet you. Mechanics you haven’t seen in nearly a decade stop you in the hallway.

“You look like your grandfather,” one says, voice thick. “You always did.”

Lewis finds you again in the back corridor of the hospitality suite on Sunday evening, just after podiums wrap.

He’s still in his race suit, zipped down to his waist, red fireproofs damp with sweat. You’ve barely opened your mouth when he pulls you into a tight, quiet hug that lasts almost too long.

“I missed you,” he says.

“I missed you more.”

He smiles, but his eyes are glassy. “You good?”

You nod.

“You sure?”

You pause. Then nod again. “Better than I’ve been in years.”

Lewis glances behind you, toward where Toto’s voice carries from the other room. “Yeah,” he says, smiling wider. “I can see that.”

***

It’s late when you return to the hotel. The lights in the hallway hum gently. Your heels click across the polished floor.

He unlocks the suite door for you. You step inside. It’s quiet.

And then-

“I saw you,” he says.

You turn.

Toto stands near the window, jacket off, sleeves rolled, shirt undone at the throat.

“I saw you today,” he says again. “Really saw you.”

You breathe in slow. “I was terrified.”

“You didn’t show it.”

You step closer. “I didn’t want to.”

He studies you. “You were magnificent.”

Your breath hitches.

He takes a step. Then another. And another. Until his hands are cupping your face and your eyes are locked on his.

“You don’t have to be strong right now,” he says quietly.

You nod.

His thumbs brush your cheeks. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Another nod.

He leans in. And kisses you.

***

The door shuts behind him with a soft click. The world stays outside.

His fingers are in your hair, at your waist, guiding without pulling, urging without demanding. You follow. The bed is too soft. The sheets too white. But his hands are steady, and you anchor yourself in the weight of him.

When your blouse slides from your shoulders, you think this isn’t about sex. It’s about being seen.

He doesn’t undress you. He undresses with you. Like it’s a slow collaboration. His mouth doesn’t take. It gives. Praise and patience, murmured reverence.

“Beautiful.”

“Every part of you.”

“You’re not broken.”

You tremble under the weight of it.

“You don’t have to rush,” he says against your neck.

“I want to,” you whisper.

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.

“No,” he says. “You don’t have to want this like it’s an obligation. You deserve to be wanted for you. No guilt. No debts.”

You look up at him — this man who’s so much older, so much taller, so much more — and you don’t feel young. You feel safe.

And when his mouth trails reverent kisses down your skin, when he touches you like he’s been dreaming of it for years — like it’s a privilege, not a right — you understand what people mean when they say worship.

It’s not about power. It’s about surrender. You let yourself fall. You let him catch you.

You lose track of time. Of shame. Of the version of yourself who thought she didn’t deserve this.

After, you lie tangled together in the dark. His hand stroking your hair. Your fingers curled at his chest. He breathes, slow and quiet, like he could stay like this forever.

You whisper, “I don’t know what this is.”

He says, “It doesn’t have to be defined yet.”

You press your mouth to his collarbone. “But it’s real.”

“Yes,” he says, voice low. “Very real.”

You fall asleep there — his arms around you, your skin still humming, your heart finally still. And for the first time in your adult life, the future doesn’t feel like something to brace for. It feels like something to reach toward. With him.

***

The email comes at 3:08 a.m.

You’re awake. Not because you can’t sleep — those nights are mostly over — but because you flew halfway around the globe on a long weekend, the world feels lighter lately, and you’re learning to hold it in your hands without gripping too tight.

You read it twice. Then again.

Dear Miss Lauda,

We’re pleased to offer you a summer position with the Petersen-Welling Foundation. Your application was exceptional, and we’re eager to have your voice on the upcoming F1 Heritage and Inclusion initiative …

You don’t smile at first. You just exhale. Slowly. Like you’ve been holding your breath for a very long time.

***

Toto finds you in the kitchen of the penthouse in Monaco — barefoot, hair tied back, his hoodie drowning you. He’s already showered from his morning run, towel slung around his neck, coffee in hand.

He pauses when he sees your face.

“What happened?”

You hold out your phone.

He scans the screen. His mouth twitches.

“That’s a hell of a line on your resume,” he says, leaning on the counter. “Harvard, Lauda, and now an F1 foundation. Soon you’ll outrank me.”

You roll your eyes. “I already do.”

He hums. “True.”

There’s a beat. You pick at your thumbnail.

He softens. “What’s the hesitation?”

You shrug. “It’s … a lot. Another adjustment. Another version of me.”

“You don’t need to become anything you’re not.”

You glance at him. “Even if who I am isn’t enough?”

His voice lowers. “You are more than enough.”

You look down. Then up again. “Harvard said they’ll work with the Foundation to let me finish the final term remote. Conditionally. Since I’ll need to be based in Europe.”

“And?” He prompts gently.

“I think I want that.”

He nods. “Good.”

You blink at him. “That’s it?”

“I was hoping you’d say yes.” He grins. “I already made a copy of my keys-”

You groan. “Toto.”

He’s smiling too much to apologize.

***

It doesn’t happen all at once. Because nothing between you ever does.

You don’t move into his life like a storm. You settle like sunlight across the floor — gradual, warm, steady.

First, it’s the right side of the bed at his house near Brackley.

You joke that it’s more like a hotel than a home. He tells you to put your books on the shelves. You bring two at first. Then twelve. Then your sweaters. Then the half-finished sketchpad you stopped using at nineteen.

“Is this permanent?” You ask one night, curled beside him.

“Only if you want it to be,” he answers.

Then it’s Monaco. His penthouse. Your toothbrush beside his. Your name added to the concierge’s approved list. The first time someone calls you Madam Wolff, you laugh for five minutes straight. He grins, wide and unguarded, and doesn’t correct them.

Switzerland comes next. The chalet is silent but not lonely. He lights the fireplace. You bake (badly). He eats your too-dense banana bread like it’s gold.

“This is dry,” you say.

He shrugs. “It’s perfect.”

“You’re lying.”

“Of course.”

You both laugh until it hurts.

***

But Austria is the hardest. The Lauda estate feels frozen in amber. Rooms locked. Curtains drawn. Silence echoing down marble halls.

You stand in the entryway, keys shaking in your hand. Toto waits beside you, quiet.

“I don’t know if I can go in,” you whisper.

“You don’t have to.”

You pause. Then step forward.

The door opens with a groan.bIt smells like dust and memories.

The first room you enter is the library.

You stop cold. Nothing’s changed.

The old desk. The leather chair. The framed photo of you and Niki at age fourteen, covered in grease and pride, standing between Lewis and a smiling Toto.

You sink to your knees. He kneels with you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice breaking. “I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve-”

Toto catches your face in his hands.

“You were a child. And they failed you. We all failed you.”

You shake your head. “You didn’t.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “Let’s bring it back to life. Together.”

***

You do. Not quickly. Not easily. But you do.

The internship is demanding, exhilarating, and so completely you. You organize roundtables on legacy, inclusion, youth development. You write memos late at night in Monaco, edit presentations in Brackley, fly to interviews from Switzerland, and finally host your first panel in Austria.

At the Lauda estate.

You host something here. By choice. It’s full circle and forward motion all at once.

The old house feels different now. Softer. There are photos of you and Toto on the mantle. A few of your old sketches, framed. Your books. Your grandmother’s piano.

A home. Your home. Not just because it has your name on the deed again. But because you live in it on your own terms.

***

The night after the panel, you and Toto walk the long slope behind the house. The air is cool. The stars are out. You carry your heels in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

“You haven’t stopped working in weeks,” he murmurs beside you.

“I’m trying to catch up.”

“You don’t owe the world an apology for existing.”

You look at him. “Sometimes I think I owe Opa.”

He stops walking. “You don’t.”

You glance down.

“He’d be proud,” Toto says. “But he wouldn’t ask you to pay some imaginary debt to keep his memory alive. You do that just by being you.”

Your throat tightens.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you say softly.

“Anything.”

You face him fully.

“Do you think I belong here?”

He frowns. “Here as in …”

“In F1. In this world. In your world.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he takes your wineglass. Sets it on the stone wall.

Then takes your face in his hands. “I think,” he says, “that for six years, this world has been missing something vital. And now it’s whole again.”

You blink too fast.

“I think,” he continues, “that you belong here more than anyone.”

He presses his lips to your forehead. “But more than that … you belong in your world. Whatever shape that takes. Wherever you build it. And whoever you let into it.”

You don’t answer with words. You answer with your arms, sliding around his waist. Your cheek against his chest. His heart steady against your ear.

***

Later that night, back inside, you open your laptop. There’s an email waiting from Harvard.

Term completion approved.

Dean’s note: we expect great things. You’ve already begun delivering them.

You sit back.

Toto passes you a cup of tea and slides onto the couch beside you.

“Big news?” He asks, eyes amused.

You look at him. And then you say it. Not for the first time. But for the first time with full, undiluted certainty.

“I’m home.”

He sets his tea aside. Pulls you close. Whispers into your hair, “You always were.”

And for once, the past doesn’t pull at you. The future doesn’t scare you.

Because it’s not just about where you live or what you’ve lost. It’s about what you’ve claimed. What you’ve chosen. What you’ve built.

A home. A career. A future. A man beside you — not in front, not above — but beside.

And a life, finally, that is yours.

All the way home.

[bea0206]

The Geneva Convention Bed and Breakfast Masterlist (Complete)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Reader x Frank Castle x Billy Russo

Features: Smut, NSFW 18+ Only! Multiple partners, Knife kink, rough sex, dom/sub, cumplay, aftercare, gangbang, bondage, oral sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, anal sex, vaginal sex, etc. 

Summary: When both your favorite duos show up to lay low for a night, you have to calm a tense situation. What better way to do that than on your knees?

Updates and taglist: My taglist is closed. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction for update notifications. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

Part 1: A Night to Remember

Part 2: The Morning After

Part 3: An Afternoon Delight

Tuiccim’s Masterlist

[bea0206]

Hi ms guru, I just wanted to let some things off my chest and I can’t help but wonder why no one mentioned it before. Harry tumblr nowadays is sooo dry🫠 I miss how it used to be around a year ago or a bit before. So many amazing creators left like harrysonlylover :/ i wonder how she’s doing her stories always brought me joy and she had an amazing persona. It was so sad to see her get harassed followed by other creators starting drama against her and you. There are also creators that aren’t posting anymore like lukesaprince, freedomfireflies, and many more😔 I used to wait for updates and even though they were just for fun but they comforted me on days when I had no one. I’m so glad we still have you and jarofstyles ❤️ and i hope all the other creators are doing well we miss them a lot😭 it was such a golden and iconic era🔥

I know hon. Things do feel so different around here 😭 But there are some new writers and some who are still posting!

Here are some new writers who are active! @cloudyluun @maudie-duan @this-is-tiny-mia @ghstyles @alohajix @ijustmissyouraccenths @ellewritesx @pinkboaclub

And here are some that have been around and are still posting! @heartateasee @musicforastylesrestaurant @harrysfolklore (writes for other fandoms too) @harrysbabycherry @1d1195 @watchmegetobsessed @missmielyhoran @harrywavycurly @jarofstyles (as mentioned of course but ICON so needed to add here)

(Also y'all let me know if I missed anyone who's still actively posting or any newbies out there cause we should be supporting them all! This is just from the top of my head so I'm sure I missed a few)

Harrysonlylover is missed here. Not too long ago someone was looking for one her fics 😭 There really is something about those days when it seemed writers were happily supporting other writers instead of trying to make drama where there was none. I wish things could go back to how they were before ☹️

Anyway! I'll let harrysonlylover know you're thinking of her and that we miss her 💕

xoxo

[bea0206]

Out Of The Darkness

Summary: Y/N finds herself lost in deep subspace after an intense scene with Harry. As the emotional and physical toll of the experience starts to overwhelm her, Harry realizes she’s slipping too far away. He gently but urgently calls it, determined to guide her back from the depths with tender aftercare. As he holds her and reassures her, he struggles to help her reconnect with the present, and together, they slowly navigate the space between vulnerability and comfort, reminding each other of the deep connection they share.

A/N: hi sweet angels!! 🥺 thank you so much for reading Out of the Darkness—this one is so special to me. i really wanted to explore the softer, more vulnerable side of kink—how intense trust, aftercare, and emotional connection are just as important (if not more!) than the scene itself. this fic is deeply personal and tender, and writing it felt like wrapping someone in a warm hug after a storm. i hope it made you feel seen, held, and reminded you how powerful love can be when it’s gentle. Based on this request.

sending you all the cozy vibes, forehead kisses, and soft blankets!! pls don’t forget to drink water and check in with yourselves today

Word Count: 9,4k

Warnings: 

BDSM dynamics (consensual power exchange)

Intense subspace / subdrop themes

Mentions of emotional vulnerability and disorientation

Aftercare-heavy content

Safe, sane, consensual kink (but very emotionally raw)

Soft dom!Harry

Reader experiencing physical and emotional overwhelm (handled gently)

Mentions of crying / tears

Very intimate and introspective

Wasn’t proofread sorry!!

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The room was quiet, except for the low hum of music playing through the speakers—soft, atmospheric, barely there. It wasn't anything with lyrics, just a slow, rolling rhythm that matched the pulsing dim light from the corner lamp. The air was warm, heavy with that lived-in scent of home and the subtle spice of the candle Harry had lit an hour ago. Vanilla and sandalwood. The curtains were drawn, shadows stretching gently across the walls, and everything in the room felt like it belonged to this moment—contained, intimate, untouched by the world outside.

Y/N was on her knees, her breathing slow and steady, fingers loosely curled against her thighs. She wasn't bound—Harry hadn’t gone for ropes tonight. This was about something different. It was about trust, about surrendering in a way that had nothing to do with restraints and everything to do with her choosing to stay. Choosing to give him control, and herself completely. Her eyes were cast downward, lashes soft against her cheeks, and the way her chest rose and fell said she was calm. Present. But already teetering close to that edge where the world begins to fade a little.

Harry knelt in front of her, not touching, just watching. He’d been guiding her through this for the past hour, shifting slowly from playful commands to something quieter, more intense. There was nothing rushed in the way he moved or spoke—every gesture deliberate, every word purposeful. He wanted her to feel it, to let herself sink into it fully. There had been teasing at first, a bit of light pain, some breathy laughs exchanged when she challenged him with a look or a smirk. But those had faded as the energy shifted between them, as he brought her deeper into the space they shared.

“Doing alright, baby?” he asked, voice low and smooth, one hand lifting to gently brush her cheek. She leaned into the touch without speaking, just nodding slowly, eyes fluttering closed. That small gesture told him more than words could. She was already starting to let go, piece by piece, surrendering control the way they’d talked about. He dragged his thumb along her lower lip, a ghost of a smile playing on his face as he watched her react—barely. Slower now. More internal.

“Color?” he prompted again, soft but clear.

“Green,” she murmured, almost too quiet, but not quite.

He nodded, satisfied. “Good girl.”

It landed with weight, those two words. Not just praise, but a promise. That he saw her. That she was safe. That he was right here, watching every shift in her body, every flicker of change behind her expression.

He stood, circling her slowly, his bare feet making no sound on the plush rug beneath them. She didn’t move, didn’t flinch—completely still, waiting. Trusting. The tension was thick now, not from fear, but from anticipation. She was in it with him, deeply so, and Harry could feel it in the air, the invisible thread connecting them stretched taut.

“Hands behind your back,” he said quietly, returning to stand behind her. She obeyed instantly, lacing her fingers without hesitation. He didn’t bind them—didn’t need to. The power exchange was enough. He leaned down, close to her ear. “You’re being so good for me.”

She let out a soft exhale, and he could hear it—how much she needed to hear that, how much the reassurance anchored her. Harry’s fingers grazed her shoulders, moved down slowly along her arms, not grabbing, just mapping her, reminding her he was there. Present. In control.

He took his time. There was no rush to the build-up, no urgency to escalate. This was where he thrived—slow tension, psychological depth, the long draw of anticipation. Y/N trembled slightly when his fingers brushed the inside of her thigh, but she didn’t break form. He was careful to keep checking in without overwhelming her. Whispered questions. Gentle touches. Watching the rise and fall of her breath. Watching the way her body responded before her voice did.

At one point, she wavered—not out of uncertainty, but from being so deep in it already. Harry noticed. Her knees shifted, her spine curved ever so slightly forward. It was subtle, but he caught it, and he moved closer again, kneeling behind her and wrapping one arm gently around her waist to steady her.

“Still with me, baby?” he asked, his mouth close to her ear.

She nodded again, slower this time. “Yeah. I’m here.”

Her voice was breathy, a little distant. Not quite gone, but slipping. He filed that away. Her edges were softening. It was early still, but she was going deeper than she usually did. He didn't panic. Just adjusted.

He ran his hand down her side, grounding her, and kissed the curve of her shoulder. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered.

The scene kept unfolding like that—unhurried, deliberate, deep. He shifted her position, had her lay on the padded blanket near the foot of the bed, kissed her lips softly before slipping a silk blindfold over her eyes. Her breathing hitched, but she didn’t protest. That was a new layer for them—giving up her sight—and it thrilled him that she trusted him enough to accept it without fear. He checked in again, a gentle squeeze to her hand, a quiet word, and her whispered response confirmed it.

Green.

He explored her slowly, using his voice, his hands, and careful temperature play to blur her awareness. Ice against her inner wrist. Warm breath against her neck. Fingertips grazing, never staying long in one place. Every reaction she gave—every sigh, every shiver—was noted, responded to, drawn out. He watched the way her mouth parted when he dragged a soft feather across the back of her knee, the way she squirmed when he pressed his lips to the inside of her arm, the skin so sensitive there. He watched her unravel with infinite care.

The deeper she sank, the quieter she became. Not silent in a distant way—just unmoored. Her limbs loosened. Her jaw slackened. Her responses grew slower, like she was underwater and everything was moving through syrup. Harry recognized it instantly. Subspace. She was slipping into it earlier than he expected tonight, and it was beautiful to watch. But it also meant he had to be even more careful now. She was vulnerable in a different way.

He leaned down, brushing his nose against her cheek. “Color?”

It took a second. Too long. But eventually, she whispered, “Green.”

Still green, but only just. The moment she said it, Harry felt a flicker of something tighten in his chest. Not fear exactly, but awareness. She was floating, and she was floating fast.

He didn't stop.

Not yet.

Instead, he adjusted. He slowed down even more, dropped his voice lower, touched her with even more intention. He wasn’t going to push her—he wasn’t trying to break her—but he wanted to see where she could go. Wanted to give her the space to explore the limits they’d talked about, to feel the surrender she’d asked for. She’d told him she wanted to go deeper this time, and she trusted him to guide her there. And he would. As far as she wanted. No further.

Her chest rose and fell in a rhythm that was no longer steady. More shallow now. Her fingers twitched when he kissed just beneath her ear, and her lips parted with a quiet whimper when he whispered her name again. She didn’t respond with words. Just the sound. Soft. Distant.

Harry moved back slightly, his brows drawing together. He brushed a finger along her jaw, her lips, watching her try to focus.

“Y/N?”

She blinked beneath the blindfold. Her lips moved, but nothing came out.

He tilted her chin gently. “Baby, can you answer me?”

A pause.

Then a whisper: “I’m… here.”

But the way she said it told him everything.

She was barely tethered. Floating. Her voice had no weight to it. Her body was completely relaxed, pliant in a way that almost made him ache. It was beautiful, but it was time.

Harry pulled the blindfold off, watching her lashes flutter open, though her gaze didn’t fully land. She was too far under.

He exhaled, brushing the hair from her face with both hands, grounding himself as much as her.

The scene had gone exactly the way she wanted. Intense. Emotional. Intimate.

But she’d given everything.

And now, he had to bring her back.

Harry stayed perfectly still for a second, holding his breath, watching her. The dazed look in her eyes, the way her lashes trembled but didn’t lift to meet his gaze—it was all there. The signs. Her breathing was shallow, her lips slightly parted, and the tiny frown between her brows said her body was still reacting, but her mind was already slipping into the haze. She looked like she was drifting through fog, floating somewhere too far from him now.

“Y/N,” he murmured again, quieter this time. A thread of emotion wound tight through his voice. He cupped her face with both hands, thumbs brushing along her cheeks. “Sweetheart, you with me?”

No answer.

She blinked once, slowly, like her eyes were moving through water. She wasn't panicking, wasn’t afraid—but she was clearly gone. Not in a dangerous way, not yet. But if he didn’t handle it carefully, the drop could become too steep. Harry recognized that shift. He knew subspace when he saw it, had seen it in her before. But tonight it was different. She wasn’t just skimming the edges. She’d fallen deep.

Her body was heavier in his arms when he reached for her. She didn’t move away, didn’t resist, but her limbs had lost their tension, her muscles too relaxed. She was warm and pliant, completely surrendered to whatever came next. It made his chest tighten in ways he hadn’t expected.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, trying not to let the flicker of worry in his stomach reach his hands. His voice was soft, measured. “It’s alright, baby. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

No reaction. Not even a nod.

Harry swallowed, steadying his tone. “Can you hear me, love?”

She made a small sound in the back of her throat, a breath that barely counted as a response. Her head tilted slightly toward him, but it wasn’t conscious. Not really. Her eyes had gone glassy, her lips twitching with some faraway thought she couldn’t seem to place. She was floating in that place where nothing felt quite real, where sensation blurred with emotion and time slowed down.

He adjusted, easing her back into a seated position on the padded blanket, guiding her gently with firm hands. Her body followed him, soft and loose, like a doll. She blinked again, but the world wasn’t there behind her eyes. He could see it clearly. She didn’t even know she was gone yet.

And that scared him a little.

Not because he didn’t know what to do—he did. But because of how much trust she’d given him. How far she’d let herself go. That kind of vulnerability was rare, even between them, and it hit him hard in the chest. She’d given him everything and asked for nothing but care in return.

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, brushing her hair away from her face. “You’re deep, huh?”

A breath. A barely-there sigh.

He nodded to himself. “Alright. No more.”

His hands moved with calm precision, pulling a soft throw from the edge of the bed and wrapping it around her shoulders. Her skin was warm, but he knew how fast that could shift once the adrenaline wore off. He needed to start anchoring her now—physically, emotionally—before she drifted too far to feel any of it.

Her body sagged into him when he wrapped the blanket tighter. That tiny act of pressure seemed to soothe something in her. Her head lolled against his chest, and he let her stay there, holding her without restraint, one hand running up and down her back in slow, even strokes. He kept his voice low, a steady current in her ear.

“You’re okay, Y/N. I’m right here.”

His other hand found hers and squeezed gently. Nothing back. Just her fingers lying limp in his palm. He exhaled quietly, pressing his forehead to hers for a moment. He wasn’t panicking. He couldn’t panic. She needed calm. She needed consistency. But he hated seeing her like this—so far gone that even blinking looked like effort.

Still, there was something achingly beautiful in it. The depth of her trust. The soft lines of her face, relaxed and open. She wasn’t distressed—just detached. And that was the difference.

She wasn’t scared.

But she was lost.

He leaned back slightly, his hand never leaving her arm. “Can you give me a little nod, sweetheart? Just a small one.”

Her head twitched, barely a centimeter. It was unclear if she was responding or if her body just shifted with the rhythm of his voice. He took it anyway.

“Good girl. That’s it. Just stay with me.”

The silence stretched between them, thick and full. He could hear the music still playing in the background, slow piano chords drifting through the space, but it felt miles away. The rest of the world didn’t exist in this moment. It was just her and him. The weight of her against his chest. The feel of her breath against his neck.

He checked her pulse with practiced fingers—not because he was worried something was wrong, but because it grounded him too. It was steady, slow. A little fluttery, but not dangerous. Just the after-effects of a scene that had taken her deeper than either of them expected.

“Y/N,” he said again, more firmly this time, but still gentle. “If you can hear me, I want you to take a deep breath. In through your nose. Come on, love. For me.”

Nothing.

Then, a shaky inhale.

Shallow, but it was something.

He smiled softly, brushing his knuckles along her jaw. “That’s my girl. That’s it. Just like that.”

It would be slow, he knew that. The return always was. But this—this kind of depth—would take longer. He wasn’t trying to rush her. He just needed to keep reaching. Keep showing her that she wasn’t alone in the dark.

He shifted her slightly, letting her body drape sideways so he could cradle her more easily, her head resting against his collarbone now. She whimpered faintly, some part of her responding to the closeness, the safety. His fingers slid through her hair, soft and slow, again and again, while he whispered to her.

“I’m right here. Not going anywhere. Just breathe.”

The blanket slipped slightly, and he adjusted it, tucking it around her legs, rubbing gentle circles into her knee with his palm. Her skin twitched beneath his touch, sensitive, raw, but not resisting.

Her head moved, just barely. Like she was trying to say something. Her lips parted again, a soft noise escaping. Not a word, but a feeling. He caught it anyway.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his throat tight. “You don’t have to talk yet. Just rest. I’ll do the talking.”

His thumb brushed over her cheek again. Her face was flushed, her lashes damp at the corners. Had she cried? Maybe. Subspace could do that—blur all the boundaries until everything poured out. He’d hold that for her too. All of it.

“You were amazing,” he said quietly. “So strong for me. I’m proud of you.”

Her fingers twitched in his. Not much, but enough that he noticed.

He kissed her temple, lingering there for a long beat. She smelled like warmth and skin and the faint spice of the candle.

Everything in him softened.

Even now, when she was unreachable, she was still choosing to be with him. That kind of trust wasn’t something he took lightly. It wasn’t just about the scene or the play. It was about the space they built together. The way she let him see her when she had nothing left to give.

He held her tighter, not smothering, but firm. Secure.

“You’re safe,” he whispered again. “You’re not alone.”

Another small breath. Her lashes fluttered again. Still no words. Still drifting. But maybe, just maybe, she was starting to hear him.

Harry's heart thudded steadily under her cheek, a rhythmic beat against her temple, but his chest was tight. Every breath he took felt heavier now, like something inside him had clicked into a different mode. The part of him that thrived in control—the one that could read her like a book, respond with perfect timing, guide her through any scene—was now yielding to something else entirely. Not panic. But something close. Awareness. The kind that settles in your stomach with a quiet thud. She was too far. Too soft. Too silent. Not gone in a dangerous way, but gone in a way that made it clear he needed to stop.

His eyes scanned her face again, looking for some flicker of connection. A sign that she was aware. Present. But her gaze was vacant, unfocused, and every time her lips parted, it was like a thought tried to surface but didn’t quite make it. Her body rested heavily against his, limp and surrendered, and while it was beautiful—achingly so—it wasn’t sustainable. Not for where she was now. Not for what she needed.

Harry exhaled slowly, pressing a long kiss to her forehead. “Alright,” he whispered, letting the words settle in the space between them. He moved gently, loosening his hold just enough to shift their position, his hands never leaving her body. “Okay, love. That’s enough now.”

He guided her with care, repositioning himself so they were face to face. Her body swayed slightly with the movement, unresisting. Her head lolled a little, and he caught it quickly with one hand, steadying her chin.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. “I’m calling it, baby. We’re done, alright? You gave me everything. You did so good.”

Still nothing more than a whisper of breath against his skin. No nod. No shift. Just her body pressing instinctively into him, like his touch was the only thing anchoring her now.

His tone softened further, almost pleading. “It’s okay, love. I’ve got you.”

He said it again—not because she hadn’t heard, but because she needed to hear it more than once. Because sometimes words don’t sink in the first time, not in this state. She was floating too far out to grab them fully. So he kept speaking, slow and steady, letting the cadence of his voice wrap around her like the blanket still tucked around her shoulders.

Inside, though, Harry was wrestling with himself. Not visibly, never that. He kept his face calm, his hands steady. But there was a war happening in the quiet spaces between his words. He’d seen subspace before. He’d been here with her before, too. But not like this. Not quite this deep. Not where her responses were this slow, where the line between pleasure and overwhelm blurred so thin that even he couldn’t tell which side of it she was on anymore.

He had to make the right call, and he had to make it now.

A part of him wanted to see if she’d come back on her own. Wanted to trust that she’d find her way, like she had before. But something told him that wasn’t fair to ask of her this time. She’d gone deeper than she knew, and waiting too long could turn this from an intimate high to an emotional freefall. He wouldn’t let that happen.

So he shut it down, gently but completely. No hesitation in his actions now, even if his heart still squeezed every time he looked at her dazed expression.

He shifted her into his lap fully, one arm around her back, the other cradling her head. Her face pressed against his collarbone, her breath hot and shallow. He rocked them slightly, letting the motion soothe them both, grounding himself as much as her. The blanket rustled softly around them, and the room held its silence, dim light flickering gently across the walls.

He kept whispering to her. Telling her she was safe. That she did well. That he was proud. And all of it was true. But beneath the words, there was a thread of guilt he couldn’t quite shake. Not because he’d pushed her too far—they had clear boundaries, and he’d watched her carefully. But because there was always that voice in the back of his head that whispered: Should I have seen it sooner? Should I have stopped earlier?

He hated that voice. It wasn’t helpful. It wasn’t productive. But it was persistent.

His fingers traced soft lines up and down her spine, the rhythm meant to soothe. But inside, he was tightening under the weight of responsibility. He didn’t need to be perfect. She never asked him to be. But he wanted to be. Wanted to be everything she needed—her guide, her anchor, her safe place to land. And right now, that meant being calm even when his own chest ached with the urgency to make sure she was okay.

Her lips brushed against the side of his neck, not a kiss, not deliberate. Just a reflex, maybe. Or a sign that she was trying to orient herself again. He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling against her temple.

“That’s it, love,” he said softly. “Come back to me.”

He repeated it like a prayer, quiet and full of care. He wasn’t trying to pull her out too fast. That could do more harm than good. He just needed to be there, ready, while she made her slow return. He didn’t need her to talk, or move, or even understand yet. He just needed her to know she was held.

Time moved differently in this space. Seconds stretched. Minutes lingered. He didn’t look at the clock. He just kept holding her, kept grounding her with his presence. Every now and then, she’d shift slightly, like her body was trying to remember where it was. Her fingers twitched once, curled faintly against his thigh. He took it as a sign, however small.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered, pressing another kiss into her hair. “Just breathe. That’s all you need to do right now.”

His hand moved to her cheek, cupping it gently. Her skin was warm beneath his palm, soft and flushed. She didn’t lean into it, not yet, but she didn’t pull away either. That was enough for now.

And still, the voice inside him stirred. Wondering if he should have eased them out of the scene sooner. Wondering if she’d felt overwhelmed before he saw it. Wondering if she’d felt alone, even for a moment. The thought made his chest ache.

He pushed it down, not because it didn’t matter, but because right now wasn’t about him. He’d unpack all of that later. When she was back, when she could tell him with words how she felt and what she needed. But for now, he just had to be steady. Gentle. Unshakable.

So he kept whispering. Kept holding her close. Kept rocking them slightly back and forth in that tiny world they’d created. He let his voice wrap around her like a lifeline.

“It’s over now, baby. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

And even though she didn’t say it back, even though her eyes were still unfocused and her breath still shaky, he knew she heard him.

Not with her ears.

But with whatever part of her still knew he’d never let her go.

Harry held her a little closer, as if that alone could tether her more firmly to the present. He could feel her heartbeat where her chest pressed against him—still slow, a little uneven. Her breathing was shallow, drifting in and out of rhythm, like she was hovering between sleep and something deeper. He didn’t rush her. Didn’t speak right away. Just let her feel him, the solidity of his arms around her, the warmth of his skin, the steady, quiet way he breathed through his nose.

Finally, he tilted his head slightly so his lips brushed her temple. “You’re safe, sweetheart. Just breathe for me.”

The words weren’t just words—they were deliberate, grounding, gentle. He repeated them, softer this time, and let the silence that followed stretch between them like a bridge. Slowly, he felt her fingers twitch again, her head shift just barely against his shoulder. It was like her body was trying to catch up with her mind, still working out how to function now that the intensity of the scene had passed.

Harry adjusted the blanket around her, carefully tugging it up over her shoulders and tucking it beneath her legs. Every movement was deliberate, slow, never abrupt. He knew the sensation of coming down could feel like free-falling if you weren’t held properly, so he made sure she was cocooned in warmth. Every adjustment he made was a quiet promise—I’m here, I’m watching, I won’t let you go.

He reached behind him for the glass of water he’d set aside earlier, anticipating the moment she’d need it. When he gently nudged it against her lips, she didn’t respond at first, just let it rest there. So he whispered again, “Just a little sip, love. Just to help you feel better.”

Her lips parted slightly, not because she fully understood, but because she trusted him enough to let him guide her through even this. He tipped the glass just enough to wet her mouth, watching closely as she swallowed. Slow. Weak. But she did it.

“That’s it,” he murmured, setting the glass down again. “That’s my girl.”

He stroked her back, hand broad and warm, moving in steady circles. Her breathing was starting to even out, little by little, and he matched her pace, syncing his own breath with hers to help her find some kind of rhythm again.

She still hadn’t said a word. He didn’t expect her to.

Coming back from subspace wasn’t like flipping a switch. It was a climb, and sometimes your limbs didn’t work the way you wanted them to. Sometimes the world felt too loud, or too sharp, or too heavy. And Harry had learned—through time, through trust, through their conversations after scenes—that the most important thing wasn’t fixing it. It was just being there. Letting her know she wasn’t climbing back alone.

He shifted slightly, cradling her head more securely in the crook of his arm, and brought his other hand to her hair. His fingers combed through it slowly, brushing it back from her face, careful not to tug. The strands were damp with sweat at the roots, and he could feel the heat still radiating off her skin. She’d given him everything—her control, her voice, her strength—and now she was running on empty.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered against her hair, his lips barely moving. “Just keep breathing.”

She made a sound then—barely a hum, more breath than anything else. But it was different. It wasn’t random. It had weight, however small. He didn’t pause or react too much. Just let his fingers keep moving through her hair, down to her neck, then back up again. Over and over, until he felt her body start to respond to the rhythm of his touch.

He glanced down, watching her face. Her brows had softened. That slight crease in her forehead was gone. Her lips were parted just a little, her cheeks pink with the remnants of exertion and heat. She looked like she was sleeping, but he knew she wasn’t. Not yet. She was still somewhere between, still floating—but now he could feel the direction shifting.

She was starting to return.

He didn’t speak again for a while. Just let her rest against him, adjusting the blanket when it slipped slightly, brushing his hand over her arms, making sure she stayed warm. He reached for the cooling pad he kept nearby—just in case—and gently slipped it behind her back, giving her body a chance to stabilize. He’d learned the signs over time. When her body dipped too far, her temperature could drop fast, and he wasn’t about to let that happen.

She shifted slightly against him, her nose brushing his chest. He looked down and saw her brows twitch together, like her mind was catching up to what her body had just done.

“There you are,” he whispered with a smile, keeping his tone light, reassuring. “Took a little trip, huh?”

No answer. But her hand moved—not much, just a curl of her fingers against his arm. Still, it was enough. Enough for him to know she was starting to feel him again.

He tilted his head to press a kiss to her forehead, long and slow, letting it linger. His lips stayed there for several seconds, not rushing the moment. Just offering warmth. Contact. Love.

Then he pulled back and brushed the hair away from her face again, this time tucking it behind her ear. His thumb followed the curve of her cheekbone, gentle enough that it didn’t startle her, but firm enough to register.

“I’ve got you,” he said again, not because she didn’t know it, but because she needed to keep hearing it until she believed it all the way down.

He felt her shift again, this time a little more purposefully. Her arm moved just enough to slip around his waist, her fingers weakly pressing into the side of his shirt. She still hadn’t lifted her head, but she was holding him now. Choosing to cling instead of just leaning.

His heart ached with tenderness.

“Hey,” he whispered. “That’s it, baby. Come on back.”

She let out a shaky breath, a little more defined this time. Like it caught somewhere in her chest before leaving her lungs. It wasn’t quite a sob, but it was raw, and it made him hold her tighter without hesitation.

“I know,” he murmured, kissing the side of her head again. “I know, love. It’s a lot. Just take your time.”

He didn’t press for words. Didn’t ask if she was okay yet. He’d wait. She didn’t need questions right now—she needed presence. And he’d give it to her for as long as it took.

The pads of his fingers traced soft circles along her shoulder. Slow, mindless. Grounding. The kind of touch that didn’t demand anything from her but reminded her she wasn’t alone in her body. That she was loved in it, no matter how out of it she felt.

He reached for the water again, easing the glass to her lips once more. “Just another sip, love. Then we can lie down if you want.”

She opened her mouth slightly, this time more on her own. He helped her drink, just a little, before setting the glass aside. Her breath shuddered as she swallowed, and she let out the smallest sigh when he brushed his fingers along her jaw again.

“You’re doing so well,” he said, his voice hoarse now, not from emotion but from speaking so low, so steady, for so long. “I’m right here. Always.”

The room was quiet again, except for the music still playing softly in the background. She was still wrapped around him, blanket tucked tight, body slowly relaxing against his. Her breathing had settled. Still light, still delicate, but not panicked.

He held her for a long time after that. Let the moment stretch and settle around them. Let her come back on her own terms. Let her feel what she needed to feel without trying to fill the space too quickly.

Because he knew the road back from subspace could be confusing. It wasn’t always linear. Sometimes it meant silence. Sometimes it meant tears. Sometimes it meant curling up and letting someone else carry the weight of you for a while.

And he would carry her. For as long as she needed.

Harry kept his arms around her like they were the only thing tethering her to the world. Maybe they were. His hand hadn’t stopped moving, tracing slow, familiar circles over her back, his fingers slipping just under the hem of the blanket to stroke her skin in soft, grounding motions. She hadn’t spoken, but her body had started to respond—little things. The subtle way she held on to his shirt. The shift of her weight as she tried to settle. The way her breath caught every now and then like her system was rebooting, trying to remember how to be in her body again.

“You’re here with me, love,” he whispered, close to her ear. “You’re safe. It’s okay, we’ve got all the time you need.”

He could feel her heartbeat against him, still fluttery and a bit uneven, but it was steadier than before. Her skin was warm and damp, like her body was finally realizing it wasn’t in fight-or-flight anymore. Just floating in that confusing middle place. She still hadn’t lifted her head, and he wasn’t rushing her. She was curled into him like it was the only place she remembered how to be, and if that’s what she needed, then that’s what he’d give her.

Her fingers clenched slightly against his side. He looked down to see her face—barely lifted now, her lips parted like she was trying to form a word, but her brow was tight with confusion.

“Hey,” he said softly, shifting to brush his thumb across her cheek. “You with me?”

Her eyes opened, hazy and slow, and she blinked up at him. There was no recognition at first—just that same lost, foggy stare that made his chest pull tight. But then something flickered. Not clarity, not yet. Just awareness.

“I… I don’t…” Her voice was a whisper, hoarse and cracked like she’d been silent for days. She didn’t finish the sentence.

Harry leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to hers. “It’s alright. Don’t try to talk yet. You’re safe, yeah? Just stay right here.”

Her mouth opened again, and this time she let out a sound—somewhere between a breath and a sob. It wasn’t sharp, wasn’t loud. Just a release. Like the weight of being present again was heavier than she expected.

“I don’t know where I am,” she murmured. Her voice was trembling. “I can’t… think.”

Harry’s heart broke a little at the words. Not because she was in pain—though part of her was—but because he knew that feeling. Knew that kind of mental disorientation that came when you gave everything and came back to a world that suddenly felt too loud, too sharp, too fast.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, cupping her face in both hands. “You don’t have to think right now. I’ve got you. Just stay close, yeah? Feel me holding you.”

She nodded slowly, eyes fluttering shut again like the act of being awake was too much. He kissed her forehead, then the bridge of her nose. She was trembling now, almost imperceptibly, and he wrapped the blanket tighter around her again.

“It’s okay,” he kept saying, not because he thought she didn’t hear him the first time, but because she needed to hear it over and over until it stuck. “You’re here. With me. You’re safe.”

The blanket shifted with her breathing. She was trying to regulate herself, but he could tell it was a struggle. Her face was flushed, but not with embarrassment. It was the kind of flush that came after emotional overwhelm. Her mind was fighting to come back, and she didn’t know what to do with everything she was feeling.

“I feel…” she started, then trailed off. “I don’t know. Weird. Not right.”

“I know,” Harry said gently, brushing his fingers along the back of her neck. “It’s normal, baby. You went deep, deeper than before. Your body’s still catching up, but it’s all okay. You’re safe now.”

She nodded again, but it looked automatic, like she was trying to agree just to make sense of it all. Her body shifted against his, like she couldn’t quite find the right way to sit, to breathe, to exist in herself again. He could feel how unsteady she was—not physically, but emotionally. Vulnerable didn’t even begin to cover it.

“I feel stupid,” she whispered suddenly, her voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to go that far.”

Harry's hands stilled for just a second before resuming their motion. “Hey,” he said firmly, but still soft. “No. None of that. Don’t do that to yourself.”

She let out a shaky breath and buried her face in his chest.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he continued, lowering his voice again. “You gave me your trust. That’s never something to be ashamed of. Ever.”

She didn’t respond, but her fingers curled tighter into his shirt.

He could feel it—her panic edging in. Not loud. Not explosive. But quiet and inward, the kind that made you shrink in on yourself, question everything, doubt your own reactions. He’d seen it before. He hated seeing it now.

So he wrapped his arms around her tighter, held her like a shield.

“You were perfect,” he said into her hair. “I mean that. I was watching you every second. You were strong and soft and everything I love about you, all at once.”

A small, broken noise escaped her throat.

“You didn’t mess up,” he said again. “You just let go. That’s what you needed. That’s what we talked about, remember?”

She nodded against his chest.

“I’m proud of you,” he added quietly. “So proud. You were safe the whole time. Still are.”

He felt her shoulders rise and fall with another shaky breath, then again, slower this time. She was settling—but it was a delicate balance. He kept his hand moving over her back, slow and steady, a constant rhythm. Her breathing began to mimic it, syncing up, like her body was finally listening to the cues he was giving it.

“Can I touch your face?” he asked quietly.

She gave the faintest nod.

He brought one hand up to cup her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek slowly. Her skin was damp—sweat, maybe tears, maybe both—but she didn’t shy away from the touch. Her eyes opened again, unfocused but no longer empty.

“There you are,” he murmured. “That’s better.”

She blinked, and this time her lips moved like she was about to say something but didn’t. He could see the words forming behind her eyes but getting stuck somewhere between her brain and her mouth.

“It’s okay,” he said again. “You don’t have to talk until you’re ready. I’ll just be here.”

And he meant it. For as long as it took. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Still, inside, he felt the pull. The deep ache of wanting to do more. To fix it. To speed up her return. But he knew better. Knew that pushing, even with good intentions, would only make her feel worse. So he stayed still. Present. Soft.

She pulled her head back slightly, just enough to look up at him.

“I felt… like I disappeared,” she whispered, finally managing a full thought.

He nodded slowly. “I know. I saw it. But I was with you the whole time.”

“I didn’t know where I was,” she said. “And now I feel like… like everything’s too much. Too loud.”

“That’s normal, love,” he said gently. “You were deep in it. But you’re back now. It’s just going to take a little time for everything to feel normal again.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and one slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. She looked like she was trying to apologize for it, but he caught her chin in his hand before she could turn away.

“None of that,” he whispered. “Tears are okay. All of this is okay.”

She nodded, and the smallest smile tugged at the corner of her lips—a sad smile, a grateful one. Then she leaned back into him, burying her face against his chest again.

His hand returned to her back, tracing those soft circles again, a rhythm they both knew by heart now.

“You’re safe,” he whispered once more. “You’re with me. And you did so well.”

He felt her breath hitch again, but this time, it wasn’t panic. It was release. The kind that came from being held exactly how you needed. The kind that meant she was still floating, but no longer alone.

Harry didn’t speak for a while after that. He just held her, feeling the rhythm of her breathing gradually settle against him. The tension that had been coiled through her muscles for what felt like hours slowly began to slip away. Every time she exhaled, it came with a little more ease. A little more surrender—not the kind from earlier, not the kind that put her into subspace—but the quieter, grounded kind. The kind you only gave when you knew you were safe.

Her head rested on his chest, the weight of it familiar and comforting, and he could tell she was listening—not just to his words, but to the sound of his heart beating under her ear. That steady thump, slow and reassuring. He wasn’t doing anything special. He wasn’t trying to guide her out anymore. Now, he was just there, present, letting his body do the talking. The strong arms around her, the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his breath. It said everything she needed to hear.

His hand stroked slowly up and down her back, fingers curling slightly as they passed over the fabric of the blanket. She murmured something soft—not quite a word—but it had weight to it, like it came from somewhere deep, like it was all she could manage. He dipped his head, pressing a kiss to her hair, just above her ear.

“I know, baby,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

She didn’t move, but he felt her shift inwardly, felt her body lean more fully into his. It was the kind of surrender that came not from giving up, but from feeling safe enough to be small. To let someone else take the weight. She didn’t have to be anything right now. Not strong, not brave, not in control. Just held.

His fingers moved up to her shoulder, gently kneading the tightness he knew was probably starting to settle in. The tension that came after the drop, the kind that didn’t announce itself until you’d come back to your body. She didn’t flinch, didn’t even twitch. Just breathed through it, her cheek pressed into his chest. He let his touch be light, circular, soothing. He wasn’t trying to fix anything—just offering relief, piece by piece.

“You’re alright now,” he said softly. “You’re doing so well.”

She was still so quiet, and he didn’t mind it. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was full. Full of everything they couldn’t say yet but understood anyway. There was comfort in it, in just existing together like this. She didn’t need to talk. She didn’t need to explain. Her body was telling him everything he needed to know.

He shifted slightly, pulling her even closer, adjusting the blanket so it wrapped tighter around her legs. He could feel her skin starting to cool, and he didn’t want her catching a chill. When he reached behind him and grabbed the throw pillow off the couch, he carefully slid it under her arm so she could rest more comfortably without lifting her head.

She let out the smallest hum in response—a sound of appreciation, maybe—but didn’t lift her face. He ran his fingers along her spine again, slow and steady.

“I’m so proud of you,” he murmured into her hair. “You went so deep, and you did it with so much trust. I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

He didn’t expect her to answer. He wasn’t even saying it for a response. He was saying it because it was true. Because she needed to hear it. Because sometimes, when you come out of a place that vulnerable, your first instinct is to doubt yourself. To question whether you did it right, whether you were too much, whether you made it harder for the other person. And Harry wanted to make sure she never even started down that path.

He pressed another kiss to the top of her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing. You were perfect.”

Her arm moved slightly, adjusting the way she held onto him. She didn’t speak, but he felt her thumb brush against his side, a small, barely-there motion that felt like her way of saying thank you. Of saying I hear you. He held onto that moment, let it settle in his chest like warmth.

The music in the background had faded to near silence now, the playlist looping back to its softer, slower tracks. It gave the room a muted, timeless feel, like they were suspended in a space that didn’t require movement or sound. Just presence.

After a few more minutes, Harry leaned back enough to look at her face. Her eyes were still closed, but her expression had shifted. The crease in her brow was gone. Her lips were soft, relaxed. He brushed his thumb along her cheek again, watching for any reaction.

Her eyes fluttered open at the touch, hazy but clearer now. Still dazed, but not lost.

“Hi,” he whispered with a small smile.

She blinked slowly, her gaze meeting his with the smallest bit of awareness. Her lips moved, just slightly, and this time, it sounded like a word.

“Hi.”

He smiled wider, nodding. “There you are.”

She didn’t say anything else, and he didn’t push. He just kissed her forehead again, then her temple, then the corner of her mouth. Slow, careful, not overwhelming. She let out a breath that trembled but didn’t break.

He adjusted her again, helping her lie back slightly so her body could stretch out. Her limbs were stiff, uncooperative, but he moved with her, supporting every joint, every shift, like he was handling something precious. Which, to him, she was.

“There,” he murmured. “Better?”

She nodded faintly, eyes fluttering closed again. Her head rested against the pillow now, and he lay beside her, their legs tangled, one of his hands resting lightly on her stomach. His thumb rubbed slow circles just below her navel.

He stayed like that, just watching her breathe, adjusting the blanket every time it slipped an inch. At one point, he reached for another one, draping it over them both. The warmth cocooned them, and she shifted just enough to press her face against his neck again.

He felt her lips move against his skin. A whisper.

“Love you.”

It was the first full thing she’d said, and it hit him in the chest with a kind of quiet force that made his eyes sting.

He turned his head, brushing his lips against her hair.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “So much.”

She curled into him a little more after that, and he knew she was finally starting to feel safe in her own skin again. Not fully there yet—but close enough to let the world come back in without it hurting. Close enough to let herself feel his love and not question whether she deserved it.

He kept touching her, massaging her shoulders, her arms, the back of her neck. Every part of her he could reach without making her move. His hands were steady, warm, never leaving her for long. Sometimes she’d sigh. Sometimes she’d make a tiny noise of appreciation. But mostly, she just let herself be cared for.

And that was enough.

That was everything.

Time didn’t seem to move in the usual way. It passed in a hush, measured not by the clock on the wall but by the rhythm of breathing, the gentle drift of limbs finding comfort, the quiet rustle of blankets shifting as their bodies adjusted to being still. Harry stayed close, never letting more than a few inches come between them. His hand stayed over her stomach, thumb sweeping slow, grounding circles against the fabric of her shirt, while his other hand remained tangled gently in hers.

She didn’t speak. He didn’t either, not for a long time. There was nothing urgent left to say. Nothing that couldn’t be said through closeness, through the weight of presence. The room felt warm now in the way only deep stillness could bring—like even the walls knew not to interrupt.

Eventually, after a while—ten minutes maybe, or thirty, he didn’t know—he felt it. A shift. The almost imperceptible way her body came back into itself. A deeper breath. A longer exhale. The slight way her fingers moved under his, like she was remembering they were there.

Harry tilted his head, eyes flicking down to her face. She was still tucked into his chest, but her brows had relaxed, her jaw no longer clenched. Her breathing had changed, too—not quite normal, but no longer erratic. Controlled now. Calmer.

Then she stirred. Just a little. Her hand pulled from his to brush softly at the blanket on her lap, like she was grounding herself, checking to make sure she was really there.

Harry didn’t speak, not yet. He just watched as she moved her head, a slow, tentative lift off his chest, blinking a few times like the light was new again. Her lashes were damp, and her eyes shimmered when they finally met his.

They didn’t need to smile. They didn’t need to rush into anything light or playful. This wasn’t that kind of moment.

Y/N blinked again, and a tear slid down her cheek—silent, soft, not from sadness.

Harry reached up instantly, thumb catching it before it could fall too far. His eyes didn’t waver from hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, voice scratchy and faint, but real. There was a weight behind it now that hadn’t been there earlier.

He smiled, small and full of tenderness. “Hey.”

More tears came, but she didn’t turn away from him. Her body didn’t flinch like it had before. She didn’t try to hide.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, and Harry’s chest pulled tight—not in frustration, but in heartbreak that she even felt the need to say it.

“No,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize for trusting me.”

She swallowed hard, eyes blinking fast as more tears rolled down her face. She was fully here now—present, aware, raw. And it hit her all at once, the depth of what she’d experienced, the intensity of her vulnerability. She reached up, her hand trembling slightly, and cupped his face. Her thumb grazed his cheekbone, the smallest, gentlest touch, but it was enough to still him completely.

Harry closed his eyes for a second, letting out a quiet breath as he leaned into her palm. The weight of her hand, the intent behind it—it was everything.

They stayed like that for a moment, locked in silence, her hand on his face, his heart beating steady beneath the hand still curled in her lap. Nothing else existed. Not the room. Not the world outside. Just the connection stretching between them, so fragile and so unbreakable all at once.

Her fingers traced the edge of his jaw, then moved up to brush his hair back from his face. He let her, not because he needed to be soothed, but because she needed to give something now—something soft, something real, something hers. And he’d take it, all of it, every time.

“I felt like I disappeared,” she said, voice quieter than ever. “Like I wasn’t even in my body anymore.”

Harry nodded gently, his hand coming up to wrap around her wrist, anchoring her hand where it rested on his cheek.

“I know,” he murmured. “I saw it happening. I was right there with you.”

She took a shaky breath. “It was beautiful. And scary. At the same time.”

“I know,” he said again, rubbing his thumb over the inside of her wrist. “But you were never alone. Not for one second.”

“I know,” she whispered back.

They fell into another silence after that—not because there was nothing left to say, but because they were both holding so much, and the quiet felt like the only way to carry it. It wrapped around them like a blanket, warm and familiar, allowing her to keep leaning into him without needing to justify it, without needing to explain why she couldn’t stop crying yet.

He let her cry. Let her feel it all. Didn’t try to stop the tears or change the subject or make her laugh. He just held her. Kissed the crown of her head. Traced circles into her skin. And when the tears slowed, when her breathing evened out again, when her hand dropped from his cheek to rest against his chest, she looked at him once more.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

His smile returned, quiet and full of emotion. “Always.”

She nestled closer again, cheek against his shoulder now, arm draped over his stomach. Her body fit into his like she belonged there, like she’d been made to be held just like this. And maybe she had.

Harry stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, his fingers stroking up and down her spine. He was tired—emotionally, physically—but there wasn’t even a flicker of regret or hesitation in him. She was worth every ounce of it. The vulnerability she’d shown tonight, the rawness, the depth of surrender—it had taken everything out of her. And he would give everything in return.

He tilted his head and kissed her temple again, lingering.

“You did so well, love,” he whispered, his voice soft but certain. “I’m so proud of you. You’re amazing.”

She didn’t say anything right away. But he felt her press closer, felt her breath hitch in that same way it had earlier—only now, it wasn’t release or panic. It was peace.

And with those words, she knew.

She was back.

Safe.

Loved.

Grounded.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading, you’re a total angel! Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! It means everything to me! 💖

taglist: @oscahpastry @mema10 @angelbabyyy99 @iloveharrystyles04 @cinemharry @drwho06 @donutsandpalmtrees @panini @mads3502 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @one-sweet-gubler @rizosrizos26 @ciriceimpera @everyscarisahealingplace @hello-heyhi @sexymfharriet @lizsogolden @hannah9921 @chicabonitasblog @huhidontknowstuff @berrywoods1245 @jennovaaa @angeldavis777 @prettygurl-2009 @almostcontentcreator @run-for-the-hills @maudie-duan @dipmeinhoneyh @harrrrystylesslut @georgiarose94 @stylestarkey @watarmelon212 @hopefullimaginer123, @fangirl509east @bethiegurl19 @adoredeanna @secretisme4 @harry2121 @hopefullimaginer123 @fangirl509east @uncassettodiricordi @2601-london @zbaby @harryscherries28 @michellekstyles @alohajix

[bea0206]

Loved this so much, all the emotions!! 💕

Learn To Love Me

Note - SURPRISE!!!! I know ive been gone for like a week but im feeling loads better and ive missed you guys so so much 🩷 I’ll reply to any anons ive been sent whilst I was away in a bit but thank you for being so so kind and understanding 😘 this fic has been a labour of love for so long and thank you to my queen Elisa for all of her help and support through it all 😭 I know it might not be everyone’s cup of tea but if you like drama than I hope you like this 😂 feedback is appreciated as always and ily guys so much 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 25k

Warnings - smut, angst and fluff

‘You nervous?’

‘A little bit’ you answered, twiddling your thumbs nervously as you sat on the end of your bed for the evening. Whenever you had a night out planned like you had tonight, you liked to splash out on a nice hotel room so you didn’t have to worry about getting home at stupid o’clock and this hotel was always your favourite.

‘It’s just Mason, what’s there to be worried about?’ You heard from the bathroom and when your best friend Betsy walked back out all dressed up you felt even worse because now you knew you couldn't back out even if you wanted to.

‘I know I know, it’s just… What if he doesn’t want to? Then the whole plan is ruined’ you told her as she took a seat next to you in order to put her shoes on and you knew she was about to be as persistent as usual.

‘Trust me, he will. You look hot and that boy will eat you up. Let’s head over early and get some drinks down you, yeah? I bet you’ll feel better about it with a bit of liquid courage’ she told you and all you could do was nod. ‘I’m just popping to the loo and we’ll head over okay?’

Whilst Betsy was gone you sent Mason a quick text, thinking if you did that you definitely couldn’t back out and not even a minute after you’d sent it he’d replied.

How you’d managed to get yourself into this situation, only you knew

Mason was a friend from school, but you liked to use the term friend lightly. You had a few classes together and whilst you were always polite to him you weren’t exactly besties, only really talking because your best friend at the time and his were dating on and off so you were around each other sometimes. Your parents also sort of knew each other too and sometimes you’d see him outside of school but apart from that he was like any other person you went to school with.

Except he had a big fat crush on you and everyone knew it.

It was the worst kept secret at school, but you ignored the heart eyes and longing looks he’d often send your way and pretend like you didn’t know. You knew he was getting stick for it and you actually found it admirable that he wasn’t backing down and denying his feelings but he wasn’t your type at all and you knew no matter how hard you tried you’d never feel the same for him.

How you’d both ended up in Manchester was a bit of a mystery. When you both lived at home, Manchester seemed like the furthest place away in the world yet here you were, Mason playing for man united and you, running your parents business so they could have an easy time back home.

You couldn’t deny they deserved it. Back when your dad was your age he opened up a record store in Portsmouth that was still going strong, however he soon transitioned from selling vinyls into making them. Opening up a factory in Manchester as it was cheaper than near you but they were able to manage from home and at one point he was the market leader. Things had slowed down when you were growing up as they fell out of fashion but now they were back on the rise and business was booming.

You knew why they’d put you in charge, them telling you it was because you were the eldest sibling so therefore the business was yours to take over but you knew that wasn’t the whole truth. Your younger sister Suzi was the one blessed with all the brains and therefore it would be 10x easier for her to get a job rather than a sixth form drop out like yourself.

You’d been fully in charge of the factory on your own for three years now after you’d spent a few years learning everything from your parents and whilst the business hadn’t grown at all, it also wasn't failing and you took that as a sign of a win. If you were completely honest with yourself, you knew why the business was the way it was and you knew it was your fault but at this moment in time it didn’t bother you too much. You were happy living away from everyone and getting to reinvent yourself whilst you spent your money that you probably didn’t deserve.

It probably didn’t help that you didn’t have much of a team helping you run things. You had an assistant named Flo who was basically running the business for you but your right hand woman was Betsy. You’d met her in a club toilet one night, bonding over the designer bag you had with you and by the end of the night you’d hired her. Betsy came from a well off family and had never had a job before so when you told her you were looking for some help she jumped at the chance to join you but you both knew with her around you wouldn’t be working.

She was much help at all, you spent more time having lunch and having ‘business meetings’ than actually doing what you were supposed to be but she was your best friend in Manchester and she was helping you live the life you’d always wanted.

It's not that you didn’t care, the company made you a lot of money to fund the life you wanted so it’s not like you were happy about the fact it was flat lining but you weren’t really in the mood to help fix the situation either. You knew you had to grow the business but that would cut into the time you spent with your friends so you just… didn’t.

Since moving here, you and Mason had grown a little closer. He was relentless sometimes, liking all your instagram posts and replying to your stories with the heart eyes emoji. You'd often see each other on nights out as you ran in the same circles, money always attracted money and everyone would comment on how love sick Mason seemed with you but you just brushed it off. Accepting the bottles of water he’d get you at the end of each party and letting him know you were fine to get back to your hotel safe when it was just you left. Most of his friends knew you’d known each other growing up and some of them were really trying hard to get you to give him a chance but you just didn’t have it in you. Your eyes only set on one man.

Ross was a music agent you’d met at an event around a year ago and after six months of putting the work in and trying to catch his eye, he agreed to take you out.

He was handsome and successful and everything you wanted in a guy. You both spent your time partying and wasting your money on silly things but he was yours and you were his. He was fun and exciting and seemed like the missing piece to your life up here. That was until earlier that week when he told you he didn’t see things going anywhere and that he wanted to end it. Following it up by spending that evening in a club with a load of random girls before posting pictures of himself with them draped all over him on his stories.

You found them the next morning after having spent the night in tears, a sticky and uncomfortable feeling migrating over your skin as you saw his hands on a girl's waist in one picture whilst they were on a different girl's bum in the next. You couldn’t face looking anymore and quickly shut your phone off but it didn’t stop the tears from silently streaming down your face as you hid your face in your pillow and tried to block the world out.

‘What am I gonna do, Betsy? My life is over’ you huffed later that day. Flopping down onto your bed next to her in hopes you’d get a bit of sympathy from her but her nose was stuck in her phone like usual. She’d invited herself over after you’d sent her the pictures but right now you wished you were on your own again.

‘You’re life isn’t over, stop being so dramatic’ she sighed but you didn’t have a chance to respond. Your phone buzzing by your side and you quickly sat up and opened it in hopes it was Ross messaging you to apologise.

‘Oh great, even bloody Mason’s messaging me now’ you huffed. Falling back again and covering your eyes with your arm but you could hear Betsy’s stupid laugh from next to you.

‘Oh no, not a hot footballer. Whatever will you do?’ She asked sarcastically and you knew she was rolling her eyes at you. ‘Of course he is, that boys like a love sick puppy when it comes to you’

‘Don’t remind me’ you grumbled. Not wanting to think about that right this second as Mason was the least of your worries.

‘You know you could always use that to your advantage’ Betsy told you. Turning on her side and moving your arm away from your eyes so you could look at each other but you didn’t understand the expression on her face.

‘What do you mean?’

‘What’s the one thing you could do that always had Ross running back to you?’ She asked but as hard as you tried, your mind was blank.

‘I don’t know’ you shrugged and she rolled her eyes at you playfully like it was obvious.

‘Oh come on girl. Another guy so much as looked your way and he couldn't take it’ she told you and you couldn’t help but agree. He barely let you look at another boy when you were out with him even if you were all out together. It was annoying sometimes but you just figured it was because he loved you so much and wanted you all for himself.

There was an odd look on Betsy’s face, a bit like she was scheming something and when you raised your eyebrows at her she sent you a devilish smile.

‘Why don’t you and Mason take a few cheeky pictures together and let Ross accidentally see them? He’d be yours again in no time I bet’ she suggested and her idea shocked you. Wondering if she was right and it would make Ross come running back but there was something about that just didn’t sit right with you.

‘When you say a few cheeky pictures? Do you mean …?’

‘You need to fuck him, babe’ she told you matter of factly and you couldn’t stop the frown that took over your face.

‘You think? That seems a bit harsh on Mason and won’t he think it’s weird if I’m suddenly all over him?‘

‘So butter him up a bit? He’s so hung up on you I bet he’d take whatever you gave him’ she told you nonchalantly and just like always you were starting to see her point of view. Mason was probably the easiest person to help you get Ross back and it’s like you were besties anyway so he shouldn’t be too upset.

‘He’ll probably be out with the boys at the weekend right?’ You questioned but Betsy just shrugged.

‘Text him back and ask. I bet he’ll be there if you are’ she reassured you and you quickly sat up in ordered to text him back.

‘He said he’ll come’ you told her, a wide but devious smile spreading over her face and you knew she was pleased with herself.

‘Told you it would be easy’

‘I don’t know Betsy, I might have to think about this’ you told her. Hearing her sigh behind you before shuffling down your bed to sit with you and when she placed her arm around you shoulder you rested your head on hers.

‘Babe, listen. You realise who this is right?’ She questioned but just shrugged. ‘Mason's a rich footballer with girls after him all the time. He’s probably got a whole list he can pick from and he’ll just be happy he got a chance with you. Don’t overthink it, yeah? I’m sure he’ll be over it and onto the next one quicker than you think’

‘Yeah?’

‘Of course. You know what these footballers are like he’s probably got a whole phone book of girls he can call up and no doubt he will be doing just that after you've slept with him. He’s just a boy at the end of the day and they’re all the same’

You knew Betsy was trying to downplay the situation to make it easier for you and whilst it was working to a certain extent you were still a little uncomfortable about it all. You’d never had a one night stand before let alone done it for payback so this felt like a whole new world to you.

You didn’t want to think about it too much more but you knew you had to go through with it if you wanted Ross back so you booked a hotel room like usual in hopes you could lure him back there and got to work on what you were going to say to him.

You knew it was only a few days later but time seemed to be faster than it ever had been and as soon as Betsy was out of the loo the pair of you went out for some pre drinks in the hotel bar before making your way over to the club you had arranged to meet him at.

You saw him straight away, standing with the boys over the back but you’d barely been inside for two minutes and you couldn’t help but notice the way he kept checking his phone. Wondering if he was checking in to see if you’d messaged him so after a quick once over and an final pep talk from Betsy you made your way over to him.

‘Hi Mason’ you smiled, tapping his shoulder so he’d look at you and when his eyes finally landed on your face you watched him flush under the dim light. His mouth slightly agape as he couldn’t quite find the words to say to you but you made the first move and pulled him in for a hug. The smell of his aftershave was seemingly the same one he’d worn when you were growing up and it was like you were instantly transported back to being 14 again. Your eyes pricking as a sense of home flooded you and your grip on him tightened a touch as this was the first proper hug you’d had from someone since the news broke. You didn’t realise how much you needed one and he squeezed you back just as tightly. ‘Thanks for coming’ you smiled as you pulled away. Noticing he looked more with it now but he was still blushing like a fool.

‘You all on your own? Where’s Buster or whatever her name is?’ Mason asked and you couldn’t help but laugh as you led him over to your little table and took a seat opposite him.

‘Betsy’ you smiled, watching him shrug like he wasn’t that bothered. ‘She’s around somewhere’

‘Fair enough. I’m surprised you wanted to see me’ he laughed awkwardly and you knew you had to turn the charm on a little bit to convince him you weren’t up to anything. Betsy’s words from earlier still fresh in your mind and as you looked back up at him you sent him a gentle smile In hopes he’d believe everything you were about to say.

‘Well it’s times like these you work out who your true friends are’ you told him. Implying that he was the only person to come forward in your hour of need and you could tell he was feeling pretty pleased with himself. ‘I know we don’t talk too much but you know I appreciate you right? Now more than ever. Maybe we can use this as a turning point?’

‘I’d like that’ he whispered, a grateful smile on his face as he was so happy that you finally wanted to give him some of your time and you couldn’t deny you thought he was being really cute. ‘But it’s okay, we’re both busy people and I know it’s not always possible to talk like we did when we were 13. Even though I’m still convinced you hated me back then’

‘I never hated you’ you giggled and this time you were telling the truth, you’d never hated Mason you just never took the time to work out if you could like him as you always had your focus on someone else. ‘I was just a moody teenager’

‘Oh yeah? What’s your excuse now?’ He teased, his tongue poking out the side of his lips as he raised his brows at you but it was the shit eating grin that let you know he was just joking.

‘Meanie’ you pouted but he was quick you place his hand on your bare knee and give it a squeeze. You didn’t give him a chance to pull away though as you seized your opportunity and placed your hand over his and threaded your fingers together. Looking up just in time to see him gulping heavily as he looked down at your conjoined hands and you knew then and there you had him right where you wanted him.

You sat with him for hours but it only felt like minutes, talking about everything from what you’d been up to lately to how much you missed home and how you hated that you couldn't see the sea from your office here like you could back in Portsmouth.

It was obvious he was really listening and was constantly asking you questions about yourself which you were more than happy to answer. Between Ross and Betsy you never got a word in sometimes and whenever you did talk you had the feeling it was going in one ear and out the other so it was nice to be sat and listened to for once. The night was soon coming to a close though and you knew you had to kick things up a notch in order to get him to agree to come back with you.

‘I’ve enjoyed this tonight’ you smiled up at him. More truth to your words than you even realised and as he nodded down at you, you shuffled a little closer into his body and placed a hand on his knee. ‘You know, I’m only staying across the road. Do you fancy coming back for a bit? We can have another drink and carry on… talking’ you all but purred into his ear. His body going stiff as you turned your body to face his and you could tell his eyes were dark with desire.

‘Oh? I don’t know-‘

‘Why not?’ You pouted. Running your fingers gently up his thigh to try and tease him and even in the dark you could see that his pupils had blown out. Eyes glued to yours as you gently caressed him but it was the way he was taking shallow breaths through his slightly agape mouth that let you know this was a lot for him.

‘I’m not sure’ he whispered. His voice scared like he knew what was about to happen but you knew it wouldn’t take much more to break him and make him come back to your room.

'I thought you knew me Mase.. and you know I always get what I want’ you told him. Walking your fingers up his chest until you reached his neck and you watched his eyes flutter shut as you scratched the back of his head gently as you pulled his face closer to yours. 'You're not gonna deny me what I want, are you?'

'No'

'So you'll come up to my room? And we can carry on... talking' You whispered. Lips ghosting his jaw before kissing just below his ear and from the way he was gripping your waist you knew the effect you were having on him.

'Okay'

'Good boy'

If the music hadn't been so loud you might have been able to hear the small whimper that left his lips at your words. All the breath from his lungs expelling at once as he tried to control himself but there was something about you that always had him wanting more.

‘Just let me say bye to the boys and we’ll go’

‘Meet back here in five?’ You questioned, and with a quick kiss to your cheek, you watched him disappear into the crowd.

‘That was impressive’ you suddenly heard behind you. Turning to see Betsy looking at you with a proud smile and you took a calming breath in her presence. Switching off the persona you’d had turned on whilst Mason was around and you were thankful to see her as you needed a pep talk. ‘I would say I can’t believe how well you’re playing him but I actually can. Like I knew he was in love with you but damn girl he’s obsessed’

‘Are you sure I’m doing the right thing?’ You gulped, nerves hitting you with full force but the determined look on her face perked you up a bit.

‘Of course you are’ she grinned. ‘You can’t back out now’

‘I’m just nervous’ you shrugged. ‘Maybe going the whole way isn’t necessary? If I get some pictures of us like close but not-‘

‘No no, that’s not the plan’ Betsy cut in, her brows drawn together in what looked like frustration. ‘Ross won’t care if you’re just pictured together. You need more, okay? Come on you’ve put most of the work in, now’s the fun part. Even if you don’t get pictures or whatever the best way to get over someone is by getting under someone else’ she winked. ‘I know you can do this’

‘You’re right, I can’ you nodded. Clearing your mind of all your doubts and with a quick hug and a kiss goodbye Betsy was off. Leaving you to wait for Mason on your own but he wasn’t too far away. Making his way back to you with Luke by his side and you couldn’t miss the looks they were exchanging.

You’d known Luke for a few years now and you knew he’d taken up the big brother role when Mason had moved here. The pair of them clearly disagreeing about Mason leaving with you but Mason wasn’t going down without a fight. The pair of them eventually saying goodbye before Mason came back to you and when you reached out he took your hand instantly. Following behind you as you made your way outside and over to the hotel opposite.

You kept him close the whole way up to your room. Standing in front of him and wrapping his arm across your body in the lift so he was forced to cuddle you but when he caged you in with the other you knew he was game. Taking every chance he couldn’t be close to you by the looks of it and you knew you could use this to your advantage.

‘Make yourself comfortable, I’m just gonna get changed quickly. I feel like a sausage trapped in this dress’ you joked nervously and you finally entered your room. Wondering now you were in here if you could actually do it but as you set your phone down a new notification from Betsy flashed up on screen.

She was right, you did and all you needed was to put your brave face on to get into the mood and the rest would be easy. It’s not like you were sleeping with an ogre and even if this had no effect on Ross then at least you were about to have a bit of fun for the evening.

You stripped yourself down to your underwear, keeping your shoes on still as you propped yourself up on the side next to the sink and once you were happy with how your boobs looked in your bra you took a deep breath and put your game face on.

‘Hey Mase? You think you could come in here a sec?’ You called. Sitting back on your hands and pushing your chest out whilst crossing one leg over the other and as soon as he rounded inside to the bathroom his face was one of shock and awe.

‘W-what are you doing?’

‘I can’t get my shoes off, do you think you could help?’ You asked. Biting your lip seductively as you batted your lashes at him but he didn't need asking twice. Cautiously walking over as you extended your leg for him to hold and as soon as his fingers clasped around your ankle you felt a shiver roll through you.

He was so gentle and delicate as he held you. Carefully undoing the clasp and setting it on the floor so he could make a start on the other and you kept your eyes on his face the whole time. Watching his cheeks and the bridge of his nose flush while his tongue slipped from between his lips to concentrate on the task at hand.

Once he was done and had released your leg you were ready for phase two. Spreading your thighs and beckoning him over with your finger until he was positioned right up against you and you rested your hands on his strong chest as you sent him what you hoped was an alluring smile.

‘Thank you’

‘That’s okay’ he replied softly. Gripping your thighs gently as he looked down at you. ‘You need a hand down?’

‘Yes please’ you nodded. Letting him grip your waist as he gently picked you up and placed you on the floor but you were quick to turn and face the mirror so his crotch was now tightly nestled against your bum and the feel of him excited you. Hard against your soft skin but rather than step away his hands wrapped themselves around your waist as he hid his face in your neck.

‘Are you trying to give me a heart attack’

‘Not quite’ you chuckled, carefully reaching for your phone that was sat on the side and as he held you close and you quickly snapped your first picture of the night.

‘Hey Mase? There's a bottle of wine in the mini fridge, will you pour me a glass?’ You asked. Feeling him nod into your neck before he straightened up a bit and as he placed a quick kiss to your temple you felt your knees wobble slightly.

‘Okay’ he smiled, looking up at you in the mirror and you were ready to up the ante again.

‘Thank you brown eyes’ you whispered and you knew you’d got him as his face turned redder than you’d ever seen it before.

‘You better make sure you’ve got some more clothes on when you come back out’ he winked just before he left and as soon as he was out of sight you let out a breath. This was going better than planned and you were actually really enjoying being around him so you excitedly threw on an old baggy t-shirt you’d packed to sleep in and went in search of him again.

He wasn’t hard to spot, sat on the sofa at the end of your bed as he twiddled his thumbs and you noticed your glass of wine he’d poured you sat on the coffee table next to a bottle of water he’d opened.

‘You don’t want something a bit stronger?’

‘Best not, I’ll get killed if I get caught drinking loads’ he nodded and you sent him an understanding nod as you fell into the spot next to him.

‘Well if you change your mind you know where it is’ you smiled as you placed your hand on his knee and turned to him. ‘Now where were we?’

You fell back into conversation pretty easily, but you couldn’t stop your hands from wandering this time. Lightly tracing your fingers up and down his arm and you watched in delight as his skin became covered in goosebumps. His speech a little distracted and stuttery and you continued to brush against his skin and when you took the plunge to scratch over the back of his head you noticed his eyes flutter closed in delight.

You were surprised at how handsy he was in return to. He’d always come across as touchy when he was around other people and you’d noticed he was always grabbing peoples shoulders or patting their backs but with you he never pushed your boundaries. Seemingly with you making the moves on him though it was giving him the push to stroke your thighs and waist and you could see it in his eyes he wanted more of you but you knew he was still unsure of himself.

‘You seem nervous, Mase’ you teased. His eyes flashing up to yours for a brief moment before he looked away and shrugged his shoulders.

‘I’m fine’

‘You sure? I can get you another drink, our secret?’ You teased before you put the idea of something more on the table for him to see how he reacted. ‘Or you know I can always… relax you In other ways’

‘Oh um-‘

‘You know, you’re cute when you’re scared’ you winked, watching his face and the back of his neck flush and when you flicked his nose lightly he looked at you in a mix of fright and awe.

You knew he wasn’t about to brush everything off and give you what you wanted, you knew it was you that had to initiate whatever was about to happen and you figured now would be the perfect time. Flinging your leg across his lap so you could straddle his thighs but his hands on your hips as he steadied you made your inside swirl.

You weren’t sure where to start but it was hard not to touch him. You could tell just from the way his clothes sat on him that his body was insane and you’d been aching for a peek of him upclose ever since he’d held you in the bathroom so you went bulldozing in knowing he wouldn't stop you. Running your hands up his chest to his neck before dipping your hands into his open shirt so you could push it from his shoulders and the sight and feel of him sent a tingle through you in a way no one else had.

‘Where have you been hiding these bad boys’ you smiled. Fingers trailing over his toned biceps before you lent forward. Your lips landing on his collarbone so you could kiss inwards until you reached the base of his throat and lick a stripe up his neck but you weren’t expecting his voice to sound as hoarse as it did when he spoke next l.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Just exploring a little, you don’t mind do you?’ You murmured as you kissed the length of his neck but you could tell by the way he was holding you tightly that he didn’t at all.

‘N-no I don’t’ he sighed, sounding like he was in bliss and all you wanted was to hear what other noises he could make but soon enough you felt his nose nudge the side of your head and you were looking up into his blown out eyes. ‘Are you sure about this’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Well Ross-‘

‘Is nothing to me. I don’t care about him or what he’s doing or anything. We’ve been over for a while and I’m just over the whole thing I swear. I just wanna let loose a bit and I was hoping you’d be up for joining me’ you confirmed and the slight smile on his lips filled you with confidence.

‘Okay’ he whispered sweetly. ‘I just don’t want you to regret anything’

‘Mason, what can I do to make you stop worrying?’ You asked, gently gripping his hands so you could move them to rest on your bum and when he gave your cheeks a soft squeeze you felt your eyes roll back in your head. ‘How about I just keep going, yeah?’ You offered. Reaching for his shirt so you could remove it fully and once he was sat in just his vest you couldn't wait to get the rest off of him. ‘You smell so good’ you murmured and you attached your lips back to his neck, feeling his hands go straight back to your bum.

As much as you wanted to kiss him, you kept your lips on his neck as he seemed to be enjoying what you were doing. Licking and kissing his skin before sucking gently at the base of his neck and you knew you had him just where you wanted him.

‘You want me to be a bad girl? Or a good girl’ you whispered as you kissed your way back up his neck and you knew instantly what he wanted he wanted from the way he groaned in your ear. ‘Ah, good girl it is’

‘Go lay down’ he told you as he pulled you away from him. His voice gentle but firm at the same time and as you felt a thrill run through you as he squeezed your bum. Mason was always so kind and sweet with you so to see him switch up like this a little bit was exciting and the fact he wasn’t telling you no made you giggle.

You did what he said and let him help you up but before you went any further you stripped yourself of the t-shirt you were wearing so you were back in just the underwear from before and you knew he was watching your every move until you were out of sight.

It took him a second to come and join you. His shoulders tense and it looked as though he was giving himself a mental pep talk before he stood up and joined you. His knee resting on the end of the bed as he looked in your eyes and you knew he was getting ready to climb up with you.

‘You wanna be a good girl for me, huh?’ He questioned. His eyes trailing over your exposed skin and it only really hit you then that he was still basically fully clothed apart from the open shirt you’d removed from him earlier. The belted trousers accentuating his little waist and all you could think about was undoing it and ridding him of everything he had on.

‘For now, yes’ you told him, watching him shake his head as he giggled. A sense of triumph washing over you that you’d made him laugh but soon enough he had his game face back on and he tapped one of your ankles.

‘Well good girls, they don’t talk back’ he told you, gently moving your legs apart so he could kneel in between them and you made sure to mime zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key which he appeared to be amused by. You didn’t miss the way his eyes were still exploring you though and as he placed his hands by your ribs and hovered himself directly over you it was like you could feel the air thicken instantly. Reaching out to place your hands on his broad shoulders but he just tutted and shook his head as he caught on to what you were about to do.

‘Nuh uh, good girls ask for permission’ he whispered and your spine tingled in anticipation. You’d barely gotten started and Mason was already making you feel like you couldn’t take anymore, a whole new side of him that you’d never seen and you couldn’t deny you were excited by it.

‘Can I touch you?’ You asked quietly and the subtle nod of his head was all you needed to reach out and run your fingers over his arms as he hovered himself down a bit further and began to kiss your cheek and along to your ear. Each press of his lips made you throb and when he began to trail his lips even further down you ran your fingers through his hair to hold him in place as you began to wrap your legs around him.

‘Good girls also say please and thank you’ he mumbled against your neck and soon enough his eyes were locked on yours as his face hovered directly above you again. ‘So what do you say?’

‘Please’

‘Please what?’ He demanded, bumping his nose with yours softly and you could barely catch your breath.

‘Please fuck me, Mase’ you whimpered, sounding more desperate that you intended too but he’d managed to work you up in such a short space of time it’s like you’d lost all control of yourself. It seemed to have the desired effect though as his dark eyes rolled back in his head and you knew he was feeling exactly the same until his face returned to how it had been all night.

‘Soon okay? I wanna play with you first‘ he murmured and the groan that left your lips was unholy.

‘M-Mase? Can I have a kiss first?’ You asked shyly. Suddenly feeling a little unsure of yourself but as his face softened you knew you were fine. Watching him get comfortable next to you so he could hover slightly beside you as he brushed the hair out of your eyes but before he was leaning in you knew he was about to ask you that dreaded question again.

‘You sure this is what you want?’

‘I couldn’t be more sure. Please just kiss me’ you told him. Your voice determined as you really couldn’t take another second without his lips on yours but he didn’t need telling again. Dipping his head slowly to drop a soft kiss to your lips but you didn’t give him a chance to pull away too far. Your hand on the back of his head as your fingers got lost in his hair so you could pull him back down and as he moaned into your mouth you had to stop yourself from doing the same.

It was obvious from the way he was kissing you he’d been waiting a while for this. His focus just on you as he cupped your jaw but there was no way you were moving away from him as he kissed better than you imagined. He kissed better than anyone had ever kissed you and when his tongue dipped past your lips it was you that finally gave in and was moaning this time. Feeling his hand mov from your jaw to lightly trace over your body and as his fingers danced over your underwear you felt your hips buck up at the sensation.

He was so confident. No awkward pauses or laughter as he tried to figure you out, it was like he knew your body already and as his fingers began to trace circles over the front of your underwear you couldn’t help but groan into his mouth. Letting him bite your lip playfully as his fingers dipped below the fabric and the first touch of his fingers directly on you made you shiver.

That was all it took for his lips to leave yours but you felt them again soon against your cheek and then your jaw and then your neck. His lips traveling over every inch of you until you felt the playful pinch on his teeth on your chest and you both began to giggle.

You knew where he was going, his lips continuing their pilgrimage of your skin until he was kissing over the front of your underwear and you knew you were in for a good time just from the way he looked up at you through his lashes.

‘What the hell is this?’ You heard him laugh. Sitting up on your elbows so you could look at what he was referring to but as soon as you felt his finger brush over the two little words you couldn’t help but smile.

‘A moment of madness’ you groaned. Flopping back onto the bed as you covered your face with your hands and laughed at how stupid you’d been. ‘Most people dye their hair after a break up, I was convinced a tattoo was the right way to go for some reason’

‘Well it’s very cute’ he laughed, fingertips gently tracing the words Hey There that you’d had tattooed on your right hip just below your bikini line. ‘Does this make me the first person to see it?’

‘It does’

‘Well then, I better make sure I’m the last too’ he murdered against your skin. His lips kissing over the letters softly and you didn’t have any time to take in what he’d said as his hands were pulling your underwear off and pushing your thighs up to your chest so he had full access to you

His grip was strong, so much so you knew you'd have print marks from his fingers tomorrow but right now you didn't care. Bucking your hips up as he kissed over the backs of your thighs to tease you a little and you knew he was waiting for you to ask for what you wanted.

'Masey please, please do something'

'What do you want me to do?' He murmured. A smile in his voice that was easily detectable and you knew he was loving every second of this.

"You know what'

'Yeah I do' he chuckled, almost sounding cocky as if he was telling you he knew just how to make you crumble and from the first flick of his tongue you knew he was right. Melting into sheets as he licked and sucked away at you like he'd done this to you a million times before and all thoughts of anything you were meant to be doing that night vanished from your mind immediately.

Your hands were fisting the sheets as you had no idea what to do with them but soon enough they were in his hair and you knew he liked it because he growled into your skin and you sighed at the new sensation. He was doing everything just how you like with no direction from you. Slow and steady to work you up until you were a quivering mess and it felt so good you forgot about what you were meant to be doing entirely. Only remembering when you looked down to see his pretty brown eyes looking back at you but as he looked away to focus back on you, you sneakily grabbed your phone to take a few blurry snaps.

You were seeing stars soon enough as he brought you to your high. Never changing his speed to try and get you there any quicker as he knew you were feeling good with what he was currently doing and as soon as it hit, his name was falling off your tongue like a prayer.

You could see him through your tired eyes getting undressed but you could detect a hint of uncertainty around him and you knew he wasn’t sure if you wanted to go the whole hog. You’d been nervous in the day thinking about it but after the display he’d just put on for you there was nothing more you wanted so you sat up carefully to remove your bra so you were completely bare for him. Not even caring about what pictures you needed to take as right now all you wanted was to enjoy him.

‘You gonna stand there all night or do you want some help?’ You asked. Your eyes flickering all over his body that was now only covered by his boxers and when he took a big gulp you knew he needed a push.

You waited until he sent you a nod before you began pulling his boxers down. You’re mouth watering as he sprung free but you could tell he was still nervous so you held his waist and began to pepper kisses over his abs and lower stomach until he was pulling away from you and nodding for you to shuffle back on the bed with a smile.

As soon as your head hit the pillow you felt his chest on yours. A faint taste of yourself on his tongue as he kissed you and as you wrapped your legs around his waist his warm skin enveloped you. He was so soft and smooth but hard and solid at the same time and as he began to grind himself down on you, you wanted to feel him inside you.

It was you that reached down to grab a hold of him, to guide him to where you needed him and without much resistance he was pushing himself inside of you. Gasping into each other's mouths as you both got accustomed to the feel of the other and as he picked up his pace you couldn’t help but drag your nails down his back.

It wasn’t long before you wanted to switch things up a bit. To watch him crumble under you as you took control and when you pushed on his shoulders he was quick to roll over and lay on his back.

‘What are you doing?’ He laughed, helping you climb on top so you could take over and when you sent him a wink he scrunched his face up adorably.

‘I can’t be good all the time Mase’ you shrugged and even though you were ready to get going again you took a moment to grind yourself along him as he guided your hips with a devious smile.

‘You feel that, yeah?’ He whispered, his grip firm once more but it was only adding to the experience and you whimpered at the feel of gliding along him. ‘You have no idea what you do to me, do you?’

‘I have a good guess’ you groaned, finally reaching down to guide him back inside and even though you started slow you were desperate to show Mason a good time after how he’d treated you all night. Bouncing up and down on him like your life depended on it but even though his eyes were rolling in the back of his head he was quick to stop you.

‘Hey, hey baby it’s okay. Take your time, yeah?’’ he managed to get out as his hands stilled your hips. Stopping you in your tracks as you looked down into his eyes but all you could see was warmth and when he sent you an affectionate smile your skin broke out in goosebumps. ‘It’s all about you tonight, yeah? So you just let it out for me when you’re ready, you don’t have to rush anything’

His voice was soft and soothing, a million miles away from how you thought it would be as the pair of you had been at it so intensely the room could have been on fire and you wouldn’t have noticed but it washed over you delicately and made you feel safe.

‘But I want you to cum. I want to make you feel good like you did to me’

‘Listen, sweetheart’ he whispered. Sitting up slightly so he could reposition you a bit and you went with him as he sat up against the headboard, resting his chin on your chest so he could look up at you through his lashes you almost lost it as he looked so good. Not something you ever thought you’d be thinking about Mason of all people yet here you were looking down and his big brown eyes and freckled nose thinking he was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. This wasn’t how you expected tonight to be but you were so caught up in all of him you didn’t know how to act anymore and you hung on his every word. ‘I will, trust me. Watching you is all I need so just forget about me for a second and focus on you’

‘All we’ve done is focus on me’

‘Exactly’ he teased, squeezing your waist gently and the action made you squirm as you giggled but you could see Mason's face change as you moved on top of him. ‘So be my good girl and take your time. I promise I’m right behind you’

You couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. Not one other person you’d ever had sex with before had treated you like this and cared for in this way. It was making you feel so many different emotions and by now you’d completely forgotten the whole reason as to why he was here in your hotel room in the first place.

So you did what he asked, and you rested your hands on his chest, dangerously close to his neck, and placed your forehead on his before starting to move your hips again but slowly just like he’d requested. Feeling him slide in and out of you as he gripped your bum and moaned audibly into your mouth.

‘You like that?’ You whispered, a teasing tone to your voice but Mason just nodded. Not caring how desperate he may have been coming across.

‘F-fuck yeah, I’ve imagined this with you so many times but it’s never felt this good’ he told you and you couldn’t help but groan as you bit your lip. Wanting to tease him a bit more in hopes he’d tell you how he feels some more and since he was in this position under you, you figured you had a good chance.

‘Oh yeah, you been thinking about me?’

‘All the time’ he gulped. His voice hoarse now as you slowly pushed each other to the finish line but were stuck between savouring the moment and finally making him cum but you just went with the flow and circled your hips over him as he guided your hips with his strong hands.

‘I hope I’m as good as you imagined’

‘You’re even better’ he praised lowly. A soft smile on his lips as his eyes flickered all over your face. ‘So fucking perfect, always have been’

It wasn’t long after that you were cuming for the second time that night. Mason's lips on your neck so he could suck your skin softly before he was gently biting your shoulder as he finally hit his own high and as soon as you were both finished you felt yourself slump forward as he wrapped his arms around you.

‘You okay?’ He whispered, his fingers lightly running up and down your spine as you tried to catch your breath. Moving them down to your thighs as he massaged them gently and you could feel yourself melting onto him.

‘I’m good’ you smiled. Feeling him chuckle underneath you, kissing the side of your head sporadically and you’d never felt so content in your life. ‘I need to go and get cleaned up but I’m too comfortable here’

‘Come on, let me help you’ he whispered but you just groaned playfully in annoyance. Not wanting to move from his arms and when he kissed your forehead lightly you nuzzled into his neck. ‘You sure you’re still okay? you know with everything we’ve done’

‘More than okay’ you whispered, sitting up slightly so you could look at him and without thinking you leaned in to kiss him softly. You didn’t take it any further but he was so gentle with you as he squeezed your thighs and kissed you as sweetly as he could. ‘Thank you’ you whispered as you pulled apart but he was looking up a you with a confused expression.

‘What for?’

‘I thought good girl’s say please and thank you’ you winked but he just laughed as he squeezed you again.

‘I don’t think you’re up for being a good girl, you’re too naughty’

‘Well then I think I need a timeout’ you winked as you began to shuffle off of him. ‘I won’t be long, okay? Keep my space warm’ you told him and with that you were quick to run off into the bathroom.

You didn’t want to be too long, hoping that he might be up for round two shortly but you sent Betsy a quick message to let her know you had what you needed so she wasn’t harassing you for the rest of the night, but when you returned to the bedroom he was nowhere to be seen.

‘Mase? Where are you, you were meant to be keeping my space warm’ you called playfully. Grabbing the shirt you’d been wearing off the floor and throwing it on so you weren’t walking around with nothing on and when you turned the corner and looked in the living room you could see him getting dressed in a rush. ‘Mase? What are you doing?’

When he ignored you and continued getting dressed with a huff you felt your stomach drop to the floor, not knowing what to say or what was going on but you pressed him again so you could get to the bottom of what was happening. ‘Mason? What’s going on?’

‘Maybe you should double check who you think you’re messaging before you press send’ he spoke. Not even looking at you as he stuffed himself into his shoes and your blood ran cold at the thought of what you might have done. Quickly opening up your phone to look at the last message you sent and when you realised it had gone to Mason you felt frozen to the spot.

‘Look, Mase-‘

‘Have you seriously been taking pictures of me? Of us, to send to him to make him jealous. Is that really all I’m good for? I know you know how I feel, fuck everyone knows, but I’ve always brushed it off and gone with it cause I thought you were worth the teasing’

‘But I-‘

‘I’m not dumb alright? I knew what this was’ he cut you off. Clearly furious at you about everything but you didn’t know how to react so you let him go on his little rant. ‘I knew I was just the rebound to make you feel better but I’m so hopelessly wrapped around your fucking finger I thought I’d just take my shot’

‘Well that’s not my fault’ you told him. Wishing he would calm down a bit but you could tell from the way he was getting dressed with such vigour that he was still furious.

‘No you’re right, it’s not. But thank you very much for proving to me what everyone’s said about you all along’ he laughed but you knew there was no humour in it. ‘And don’t worry, any feelings I did have for you are long gone I promise’

‘What are people saying about me?’

‘That you’re a heartless, manipulative cow who does whatever she likes to get what she wants and the fact all you took from what I said just then was about you proves it’ he spat. The coldness of his voice sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine and you were pretty certain you’d never heard him speak like this before to anyone.

‘Mason you’re overreacting, it was just a joke’ you tried but little did you know it would just anger him more. Making him stop in his tracks so he could send you an incredulous look.

‘So now I’m a joke?’

‘No, I meant like a bit of fun’ you shrugged. Hoping he would get where you were coming from but every word that came out of your mouth seemed to wind him up even further.

‘For you maybe, not for me’ he grumbled. Looking around for his keys as he was now fully dressed and once his eyes landed on them he picked them up forcefully. ‘Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m done. That fact you don’t get how fucked up this is tells me everything’

‘If you knew what this was then why are you so mad?’ You asked. His anger now rubbing you up the wrong way as you couldn’t understand why he was so upset with you but you getting annoyed at him didn’t have the desired effect and when his sad eyes locked onto yours it was like he knocked the wind out of you.

‘Cause I could deal with a one night stand, at least I could kid myself into thinking you might like me in some way. But this?’ He asked. Voice thick like he was about to start sobbing but you saw him swallow it down before looking away from you. ‘You don’t give a shit about me more than I thought. Fourteen years I’ve known you. And for what? Fuck all apparently’

‘Mason you need to calm down-‘

‘Calm down?’ He snapped and you felt yourself shrink. ‘You fucking lied right to my face, told me this could be a turning point for us but you knew the whole time it meant nothing. Lying may not mean anything to you but it does to me’

‘People in our circle lie and do what they have to to get what they want, I thought you knew that’ you pushed back, knowing that what you were saying was awful but you were clutching at straws to make out what you’d done wasn’t as bad as he was making out. ‘Since when do you care about me that much?’

‘Since always, you idiot’ be mumbled. His voice calmer than you’d heard it this whole time but it seemed to shock you a bit. His sad eyes and distraught expression were trying their best to tear you down but you held strong. You’d got what you wanted and there was no need for all these emotions. ‘I would have given you fucking everything’ he told you, emotion laced through his voice and you tried not to let it get it to you but instinctively you moved forward but he backed away. ‘Just leave me alone’ he huffed, walking around past you to the door and when you heard it slam you let out another big sigh. Walking back to the bedroom and flopping down to the bed before unlocking your phone to speak to the one person you knew would be on your side.

Sleep didn’t come easy to you that night. Taking a quick shower and changing into your pjs so you could get some shut eye but all you could see was the heartbroken expression on Mason's face.

You tried to forget about him, to ignore the twisting in your gut at how awful you were starting to feel and tried to focus on what you were going to say to Ross to not sound like a complete crazy person when you sent him the pictures but you couldn’t face it right now. Those damn brown eyes looking back at you everywhere you turned.

Two weeks passed by and nothing changed. In fact you felt worse with each day that went by and as much as Betsy was in your ear telling you you’d done the right thing and to just send the pictures, but you kept them to yourself for now. At this point you weren't even sure you wanted to be with Ross anymore as one night with Mason has made you see exactly what you were missing out on and the fact Ross was still posting stories of himself with girls throwing themselves at him was giving you the ick.

When you were in a funk like this there was only one thing that could get you out of it. A trip to the beach usually cleared the cobwebs away but there was only one beach you wanted to be on and you weren’t sure if it was possible right now.

You always missed home but right now you really missed home. You missed your mum's hugs and comforting words and your dads amazing cooking and stupid jokes but you knew if you made the trip they’d pick up that something was wrong straight away and you knew you couldn’t confess to them what you’d done.

You were halfway through week three when you broke down and messaged your mum. You were desperate to get out of Manchester for a few days and away from Betsy’s constant nagging about Ross and Mason as every time you heard the laters name your tummy would twist and the guilt was eating you alive. You knew Betsy could see it was upsetting you too but she still carried on with you no matter how much you asked her to stop.

You left work at lunch on Friday without another word to Betsy. She’d left around 11am anyway for an appointment so as soon as the clock hit half 12 you were jumping straight in your car so you could get on the road. Thankfully the traffic was light and you made it in good time with only one stop on the way as you were so anxious to get there.

You were emotional as soon as you saw the Welcome to Portsmouth sign on the way in and when you were pulling onto the drive you were barely holding it together. You hadn't told your family about the break up with Ross yet so you were hoping you could pin your emotions on that but you knew that wasn’t why you were so upset. Mason had been weighing heavy on your mind all week and everywhere you looked he was creeping into your thoughts. You just needed a break from feeling like the worst human in the world and you were hoping some home comforts would cure you.

Your mum was the first one to answer the door, bundling you into her arms and it took every ounce of your strength to hold it together as she swayed you from side to side. Telling you how much she missed you and how excited she was to have you there and before you knew it your dad was there too to wrap his arms around the both of you.

‘Dinner won’t be long, why don't you pop your suitcase in your room and grab Suzi whilst you're up there’ you mum told you and felt your body go stiff.

‘Suzi? I didn’t know she’d be here’ you mumbled but she just sent you a wide and excited smile.

‘Yeah, neither did we’ she laughed. ‘But it’s nice to have you both back for the weekend’

You could see why she would think that, both of her babies back together for some quality family time but you hadn't spoken to her in months and now you just felt awkward about everything.

You did as she asked though, knocking on her door and giving her a small wave as she looked over at you with a bright expression before she jumped up to give you a small hug.

‘Sorry for gate crashing, you remember Annie don’t you? Well it’s her engagement party tomorrow in town and I didn’t want to miss it’ she explained but you just nodded as the pair of you made your way to the stairs. You knew you should have said more, asked how she’d been and tried to make small talk but you mind was blank and you didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

Dinner was still being plated up so your mum ushered you both outside to sit at the garden table so you could all eat in the sun. Your eyes trained on the kitchen window in hopes they weren’t too long but before you knew it Suzi had started the conversation as she was the master of it.

You knew she meant well, but you weren’t in the mood for 21 questions and by the 5th you figured she realised. Taking over from asking to just telling you what she’d been up to and in comparison to you she was living the high life. She’d only graduated around six months ago yet she’d managed to find herself a great paying job in one of the best law firms in the country, telling you she was nearing her first promotion already and soon enough she’d be able to move out of her flat share and into her own two bed flat on the outskirts of London.

You knew she wasn’t bragging, she never was, but the fact you knew in soul you’d never be able to achieve even half of what she had on your own stung so when your parents finally made their way outside you couldn’t deny you were grateful.

You relaxed as the evening went on, joining in with the conversation much to everyone’s delight but you all decided on an early night as you’d spent so much time travelling and you all wanted to be up early for the beach tomorrow.

Once again you couldn’t sleep, this time it wasn’t just thoughts of Mason keeping you up but now it was also your tummy rumbling as you tossed and turned. The only thought in your head was the leftovers in the fridge and before you knew it you were up and sneaking downstairs to grab yourself some.

You were trying to be as quiet as you could but you could see a dim light coming from the kitchen and you figured it had been kept on accidently. Heading straight for the fridge with only one thing on your mind but you had to contain your screams as you rounded the corner and were shocked out of your skin.

There sat Suzi, chowing down on a bowl of cereal by the light of the fridge and she smiled as you jumped six feet in the air at the sight of her.

‘What are you doing?’ You whisper shouted, clutching your chest as your heart threatened to burst free. You could see she was trying not to laugh at you and as much as you tried to remain stoney faced you knew you wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation yourself.

‘I needed something to eat’ she told you, nodding down to her little pile of snacks in front of her like it was supposed to be obvious.

‘I’ll come back in a bit then’ you nodded, turning on your heel to leave her to it but you didn’t get far as she was calling after you before you’d taken your first step.

‘Wait don’t go’ she yelped and when you turned back to face her you could tell she seemed a bit sad. ‘Look I know things are different but surely we can sit and eat together on our own’ she told you and you realised how ridiculous you must have looked.

‘Okay’ you nodded, realising she was right and you were just being silly. She was your sister after all not some random stranger off the street so you grabbed the leftovers you were after and heated them up in the microwave before taking a seat opposite her.

‘So how have you been?’ She asked, a slight smile behind her voice almost as if she knew how she sounded and you did your best to hide your grin as you shrugged.

‘Fine’

‘Yeah alright’ she scoffed, shovelling in another spoonful of cereal into her mouth as she rolled her eyes.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I know we may not be close anymore but it’s as clear as day you’re not yourself’ She told you softly, her eyes gentle now as she tried to get you to open up. ‘You can tell me, you know’ she prodded but as you weren’t taking the bait she decided to take a different route. ‘How’s Ross?’

‘Um… we’re not-‘

‘Oh crap, I’m so sorry. I had no idea’ she cut you off but you noticed you didn’t get the usual pang in your chest talking about him like you had done in the beginning.

‘It’s alright’ you smiled. ‘It’s probably for the best’

‘He was a bit of a dick’ she laughed and you couldn’t help but smile along with her before her face got serious once more. ‘Is that why you’re so upset? Cause he’s really not worth any feelings for. You’re so out of his league’

‘No I think I’m kinda over it now’

‘So what’s up then?’ She questioned and you were about to shrug her off until you realised you could probably use her advice. She was younger than you but had such an old head on her shoulders and you didn’t really have another girl in your life like this to get advice from so after a quick deep breath you tried to think of a way to tell her what was going on without telling her everything.

‘You remember Betsy?’ You asked. Her face immediately turning sour and you knew she remembered her from one of your parties last summer.

‘Unfortunately’

‘Yeah well, I don’t think she’s all she’s cracked up to be either’ you told her quietly, your head dropping as you pushed your food around with your fork

‘I could have told you that months ago’ she teased before her voice suddenly dropped an octave and became more gentle. ‘What’s happened, have you fallen out?’

‘Not exactly, she doesn’t even know I feel like this’ you shrugged and now you were talking about it, it was like word vomit coming out of your mouth that you couldn’t stop. ‘I’ve realised I don’t like who I am when I’m with her’ you admitted. ‘I’m not putting all the blame on her but looking back at the last year and a half or so, I barely recognise myself. I’ve done some awful things and it’s like why am I being such an arsehole?’

‘What have you done? Are you In trouble?’ She asked and even though you were spilling the beans there was no way you were admitting to what you’d done to Mason.

‘No no, it’s nothing’ you coughed, hoping she’d believe your lies. ‘I just feel so disconnected to everything at the moment’

‘Is that why you’re here?’

‘A little bit. I just needed a break from up there’ you shrugged and you could feel the tears pooling in your eyes that you were so desperately trying to blink away. You’d never been so vulnerable in front of her before and clearly she was taking pity on you as her voice softened when she spoke to you.

‘You don’t have to tell me I’m right, but I know why you're not my biggest fan’ Suzi started and you looked up to find her looking back at you sympatheticly. ‘I should have been a better sister though and been there for you over the years. I just didn’t want to keep getting pushed away you know?’

‘No don't, I should have been a better big sister’ you gulped. ‘It's just jealousy at the end of the day. You can literally do anything you want and I’ve only got this job cause they knew I’d never be able to do anything else’

‘Hey no, don’t say that. They would never have given it to you if they didn’t think you could make it a success. That’s their whole life you should be so proud that they would trust you with it’

‘Well a fat lot of good I’m doing with it’ you huffed. ‘Sorry I didn’t mean to turn this into a pity party’

‘It’s okay’ she smiled before reaching her hand over to your side of the table. ‘How about we start fresh? I could come and stay with you for a bit maybe? You can show me around Manchester and maybe we can do something for your birthday together?’

‘Betsy organised me a party I think’ you told her and you watched her face fall, thinking you were brushing her off and you felt awful instantly as she began to withdraw her hand so you quickly grabbed it and squeezed it tightly. ‘But I’d love it if you would come

‘Consider me there’ she nodded and you felt a weight lift from your shoulders that you didn’t know you’d been carrying.

You were up and out bright and early the next day so you could all head to the beach. Your parents eyeing you and Suzie curiously as to them it seemed as if you’d turned into besties overnight but you could tell they were happy about it, and when Suzie dragged you down into the cold water you just went with it and dove right in.

You used to love the sea, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore calming you like nothing else and even though the water was freezing cold, there was nowhere else you wanted to be rather than here. Floating on your back so you could look up to the sky and clear your mind just how you’d been picturing for weeks but it only lasted so long as your dad had come to join you and belly flopped in right by you so water splashed all over you.

It was needed though and as the four of you sat on the beach and gossiped like you used to you felt even lighter. All the troubles you’d left in Manchester seemed so far away now and it was all helping you gain a much clearer perspective on it all to the point where when you got back, you knew you needed to take things into your own hands and sort your life out.

It was the evening when things took a turn for the worst. Suzie was out for her friend's engagement party which you’d helped her get ready for and you were staying up to pick her up later so you’d taken a nap just before dinner. When you eventually came down though there was no food in sight and your parents were sitting in the kitchen with their laptops open and you knew they meant business.

‘Is everything okay?’ You asked carefully, praying this wasn’t what you thought it might be but you could tell this wasn’t about to be fun for you.

‘I think it’s best you sit down, so we can talk’ your dad said. Patting the space next to him that was opposite your mum and you hated the way she was sending you such a sad smile.

‘We need to talk about work’

‘Oh?’ You replied, trying to make out like you didn’t know what they were about to say but you’d been waiting for this chat for months.

‘Look love, this isn’t easy for us to say but we have to put the needs of the business first and you know it’s not going well right now don’t you?’ your mum told you gently and you felt your face burn.

‘I know’ you sniffed, your mind reeling with all the possibilities of what they could say to you and what you should say back but right now you felt like you were on the verge of being fired.

‘We don’t want to interfere or take anything away from you, we’re just asking for a bit more effort, okay? We can’t keep floating by like this’ you dad told you, tapping your knee lightly as he was trying to comfort you but if anything it was just making you more sad.

They were being nicer than you expected them to be, but when every single part of your life was falling apart, this felt like a huge deal.

‘It’s okay to admit if you need help too, pumpkin. We can always come up for a bit and help you out if you need it’ your mum offered and her sweet tone was enough to push you over the edge as you hid your face in your hands.

‘I’m sorry’ you blubbed, hating the fact they were being so kind after practically abusing everything this worked for and you knew it was the time to step up. Uncovering your face as you looked at their sympathetic expressions. ‘I know I’ve been rubbish but I promise I can do this’ you told them but you were sure if they believed you. ‘I tell you what, give me three months and if I haven’t put us in the green then you can come up and help me’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I promise, please just give me a chance’ you begged and even though they both looked unsure it was your dad who finally nodded.

‘Three months okay? And then we’ll see where we are and what to do next’ your dad told you and you felt relief roll through you. You knew you could do it with a little help from your assistant Flo, she had good ideas but you’d never had the need to put them to any use until now and you made a mental note to put a meeting in with her first thing on Monday.

Once your dad had gone to bed later that night, your mum came and found you. Asking if there was anything else you’d wanted to talk about as she’d noticed your change in demeanour and that was all it took for you to start crying again. Telling her about Ross and how you felt like a failure a lot of the time but she was quick to big you up. Letting you know that life was full of ups and downs and even though this felt like the end of the world you’d be on the up soon.

Once she was gone you had a little more time to kill before you had to go and get Suzi. Your phone was boring you though and just like always when you didn’t know what you wanted to look at you ended up in your photos, scrolling until you hit a certain few and heart thumped as you looked at them.

One last look you told yourself. You’d known from the day after you’d taken them that you wouldn’t be sending them anywhere but you’d kept them just to relive that night sometimes. To remember how he’d held you and kissed you and made you feel better than anything else until your stupidness had ruined everything. You knew you needed to get rid of them though so with one last glance you selected each one from that night and got rid of them all in one go before deleting them from your recently deleted to make sure they were completely gone.

You went home the next day feeling a lot lighter than when you’d arrived and thankfully when you went to work on Monday Betsy had taken the morning off, leaving you and Flo to have a meeting to discuss some of her ideas and plan for the next few weeks. She was more than excited to get going and you were so impressed by her ideas as they were simple and smart and you knew you’d see results straight away.

The pair of you kept chugging along whilst Betsy was left to her own devices. Never once questioning what you were doing which just proved to you how little notice she took at work but you were ready for a break and to lose after a week or so and you used the excuse of Suzi being around to keep your distance from Betsy. Not that the pair of you had spoken too much since that night with Mason but she was constantly texting you to ask if you’d sent the pictures to Ross yet and you were running out of excuses as to why you hadn't.

Suzi stuck to her promise and came to visit for your birthday. It gave you a great excuse to not see Betsy in the build up to your party and a few days before the pair of you went out shopping for outfits. Usually you wouldn’t have left it this late but not being in the mood to be celebrating anything meant you’d not even thought about what to wear.

The pair of you headed to selfridges to have a browse but nothing was taking your fancy. In the end you split up to cover more ground and told each other to pick three things for the other person as you clearly weren’t having much luck for yourself.

You were two dresses down and looking for the third when you heard his laugh, turning a corner to see Suzi and Mason talking animatedly with big grins on their faces and you wanted the ground to swallow you up. This was the first time you’d seen him since he’d walked out of your hotel room and it was like a punch to the gut seeing him smile and chat with her. Suzi was a yapper and they knew each other pretty well from home but you knew they hadn’t spoken lately and that’s why they seemed so excited to see each other.

‘Oh here she is’ you suddenly heard, your eyes flashing up to the pair of them as Suzie was still smiling wildly but Mason had gone red in the face and you knew you looked like a deer caught in headlights. ‘Look who I bumped into, small word huh?’

You were speechless, not knowing if you should play along and say hello to him or just run away and never speak to anyone ever again but Mason took it out of your hands and sent you a sympathetic smile.

‘Hey, y/n. Good to see you’

Was it?

‘H-hi Mase- uh Mason’ you stuttered. Shaking your head but thankfully you were saved by the bell as Masons phone started ringing.

‘That’s jaz, she probably thinks I’m lost somewhere’ he nodded and with a quick see you around he was off, leaving you alone with Suzi who was looking over at you like you’d grown an extra head.

‘Look I know it’s well known he’s got a crush on you but you don’t have to act like that around him, I’m surprised you’ve not scared the poor boy off’ she joked and you realised how it must have looked with the pair of you being so awkward with each other.

‘Sorry, things are just a bit complicated’ you shrugged and you watched her face fall as she didn’t understand what you meant.

‘What do you mean?

‘Nothing, come on let’s not get distracted’ you told her, holding up the dresses you’d picked out for her and thankfully that was enough for her to pull you towards the dressing rooms to try everything on.

You seemed to have more luck picking something else out for each other. Suzi falling in love with the white strapless mini dress you’d found her whilst you picked a leafy green velvet one that hung off your shoulders and pulled you in at the waist she had picked for you. The pair of you leaving with big smiles on your faces as you’d managed to find something but the image of Mason's face was fresh in your mind and it still made your heart beat wildly as you thought about the way he looked at you.

You got ready for your party with Suzi, letting Betsy know you’d see her there and as soon as you turned up she was on you. Parading you around everywhere so you could see what she’d done for you and even though it was beautiful and you were really grateful, you knew it was just an excuse to throw a party for her and it didn’t matter that it was your birthday at all.

You spent most of the night floating between hanging out with her and all her rich friends that you spoke to every so often to then hunting down Suzi for a bit of a rest and some normality. Thinking it was funny how if that was even two months ago you’d probably be thinking the exact opposite and would be spending your whole time with Betsy but today you’d given anything to get away from her.

‘Is that Mason over there?’ You heard Betsy giggle as your mind was off thinking about something else. You were a few hours in and you’d been standing with her for the last ten minutes however you’d been looking for a way out you just wished it wasn’t this. Following her eyeline to see him stood on the other side of the room with Luke and it was like someone had punched you in the gut.

You knew why he was there, you’d invited him before everything had happened and you knew he didn’t want to cause a scene by not coming as Suzi must have spoken to him too, but this was a lot for you to deal with right now as so much had changed since you’d last seen and spoken to him properly.

You had changed more than anything.

‘What do you mean? I invited him ages ago?’ You told her hoping she would drop it but she wouldn’t stop looking at him and laughing and you were pretty sure he’d noticed the way she was acting.

‘I just thought after everything that happened he wouldn’t go anywhere near you, surely he’s not that pathetic’ she commented and you saw red instantly. Mason wasn’t the pathetic one, you were

‘It’s not pathetic at all, he’s got every right to be here’

‘I was just-‘

‘No you were being awful, just like always’ you told her, grabbing your drink so you could walk away but your mouth was running away from you before you could. ‘Mason is kind, and loyal and there’s not a bad bone in his body. You know who’s pathetic? Me, for trusting you and listening to your crap like always’

‘Y/n-‘

‘No Betsy, I’ve had enough’ you told her whilst standing up. ‘We weren’t close but Mason was my friend and now I can’t even look at him without feeling shit about myself for what I did. He didn’t deserve it, hell no one does but definitely not him’

‘Oh come on, y/n. You weren’t saying all this just before you did it, don’t try being the bigger person now’

‘I’m not claiming to be, but at least I’m not so far up my own arse I can’t see my own mistakes. I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to him and until you realise the same I think we should have some time apart’ you told her. Not letting her reply or respond in any way as you walked off but as soon as you rounded the corner of your booth you were face to face with the last person you wanted to be.

You could tell with just one look at him that he’d overheard what you’d said. How much you were unsure of but it was Suzi’s voice that had snapped you out of your daze. You hadn’t even realised she was also there so the fact that she’d maybe overheard parts of it too was making your tummy sink and you didn’t know if you should answer her or flee the scene.

‘What was that about? What have you done?’ She asked but even if you’d wanted to tell her, no words were coming out of your mouth. ‘Y/n?’ She pressed but still nothing in your end.

‘It’s okay, leave it’ you heard Mason mumble. His voice making you dizzy as your breathing quickened and you knew if you didn’t get out of there soon you’d end up embarrassing yourself in front of everyone. This was meant to be your night and the thought of having a panic attack in the middle of the room was bottom of the list of tonight’s activities.

‘No it’s not, tell me what you did’ she pressed but you didn’t. Your eyes flying to the floor as they stung with tears and all you could think about was getting out of there and away from everyone.

‘I can’t, I’m sorry’ you whispered, turning on your head and fighting your way through the swarms of people to make your way to the loo so you could have five minutes peace but you could barely see as you were so emotional.

This wasn’t how you imagined your birthday party, stood in a dingy toilet as you tried to contain your sobs. Hiding from everyone in your life as you knew you’d let them all down and you didn’t know how you were meant to go back out there and face everyone. You were pretty sure only a few people had seen what happened but you knew Betsy would probably be bitching about you to her other friends and the thought of explaining everything to Suzi was making you feel sick.

You didn’t know where to go once you’d left the bathroom, taking a moment to make sure your eyes were less puffy and you looked presentable before making your way back but thankfully life was carrying on as normal without you. Realising that most people here you didn’t actually know or talk to but in the search of looking for something to do, your eyes wandered over to a table of gifts in the corner and you thought you’d take a peek.

One caught your eye immediately, knowing the handwriting on the tag as soon as you looked at it and you couldn’t help but open it then and there. Your eyes filling for the millionth time that night as you held the picture frame in your hands and you knew you’d give anything to be there right now.

‘You okay?’ You heard from behind you. Suzie’s voice was soft and understanding now, a complete 180 from how it was ten minutes ago but you knew you couldn’t face her.

‘I’m fine’ you coughed, trying to cover up the emotion in your voice but you knew she’d see right through it and when you heard her sigh you didn’t know if she was being sympathetic or she was fed up with you.

‘Listen, Mason told me what happened’ she told you quietly and you felt a shiver run though you. ‘Well, not everything, but I can get the jist of it. Why didn’t you just tell me?’

‘Why would I? It was an awful thing to do, I don’t exactly want to broadcast it everywhere’ you said quietly. Finally turning yearling to look up to her with tear filled eyes and even though you could barely see, you couldn’t help but look for him. ‘Where is he?’

‘Gone home, he’s got training early tomorrow’ she explained and you didn’t know if you were relieved or upset about the fact he’d gone. ‘What do you want to do?’

‘Go home, too’ you laughed, knowing that wasn’t really an option but her face didn’t change as she grabbed your hand.

‘Let’s go home then’ she nodded and after you’d grabbed your things you were both out of the door without a word said to anyone else.

Just because Suzi hadn't shouted at you didn’t mean she wasn’t upset with you. The pair of you jumping into your double bed once you were home and changed into your pjs and you knew you were in for a dose of much needed tough love after you finally explained what you’d done. She was definitely disappointed in you and you hated the way she was looking at you but it was no worse than how you felt about yourself.

‘You know, Mason’s not mad at you’ she told you after your tears had subsided and you gulped hard as you looked up at her in confusion. ‘I think listening to you defend his honour helped a bit but he wanted me to tell you he’s okay and he wants to clear the air’

‘He’s insane’ you laughed, wiping your eyes with the cuff of your sleeve and for the first time in a while you heard Suzi laugh too.

‘Maybe’ she giggled. ‘I know if someone had done the same to me I’d have them hung, drawn and quartered but he’s not like that. All he’s worried about is making sure you’re okay’

‘I don’t know if I can talk to him yet’ you whispered, feeling more like a coward and the moments passed by but Suzi just gave you a sympathetic smile. ‘Everytime I look at him I feel sick’

‘Give it some time, I’m sure he’ll wait’ she nodded, squeezing your hand gently as she tucked herself further into the covers and you knew she was getting ready to sleep. ‘We can talk more in the morning, yeah? Let’s just sleep on it and we can figure it out tomorrow’

‘Thank you, Suzi’

‘Don’t mention it’ she yawned as she relaxed into the sheets. ‘You ever pull a stunt like this again though and I won’t be as forgiving’

‘I’ve learnt my lesson I promise’ you gulped, her hand squeezing yours one more time before she rolled over and fell asleep.

Your feelings were pretty much the same in the morning. Not ready to have it out with Mason just yet but you knew you needed to clear the air with Betsy. Calling her into the office on Monday morning to figure out where to go from there and after half an hour, the pair of you were on the same page about the future.

All you wanted now was to focus on the promises you’d made to your family and after two weeks of intense work with Flo you were sat with her in the back of an uber on the way to something that could change the game for you. A meeting with one of the country's biggest record labels so you could pitch the idea of producing their artist’s vinyls exclusively and you were more nervous than you’d ever been for anything. This was the most effort you’d put into the business in years, maybe even ever, but you knew you needed to push yourself and this seemed like the perfect way to do it.

Your car pulled up to their offices in good time and you and Flo made your way straight inside. Pushing the button for the lift to take you to the right floor but as the doors pinged opened you stopped in your tracks.

‘Mason?’ You breathed. Him smiling at you almost guiltily as he swallowed a hard lump and as he moved out of the lift so others could get in, it was like you were frozen to the spot.

‘Y/n? What are you doing here?’ He asked, his cheeks pink at the sight of you and you were surprised he was even speaking to you in the first place so you crossed your arms over your body and bit the inside of your cheek.

‘I’ve got a meeting. What are you doing here?’

‘I’ve just come from a meeting’ he nodded. ‘My management are on the top floor’

‘’I see’ you nodded back, not sure what else to say to him but he surprised you once again by carrying on the conversation.

‘Where’s Betsy?’ He asked, his eyes falling to Flo who’d taken the hint and taken a few steps away so you could talk to Mason in private.

‘I fired her’

‘Shit’ he laughed, the sound making your chest flutter and the corners of your mouth tilt up and once he’d seen you were smiling he was looking at you sympathetically. ‘Listen, I'm glad I’ve caught you. I was hoping we could talk?’

‘What about?’

‘I think you know what’ he nodded but you just swallowed hard as you didn’t know what to say or do right now. ‘Look it’s okay, I don't want us to be like this with each other yeah? I want us to put it behind us’ he told you softly but you still couldn’t look at him. Crossing your arms across your body even further to try and protect yourself but you could hear his gentle sigh before you felt him getting closer again. ‘C’mere’ he asked gently. His hand reaching forwards in hopes you’d take it but you couldn’t bring yourself to touch him.

‘Please don’t be nice to me Mason, I don’t deserve it’ you whispered. Not trusting yourself to talk at a normal volume as your voice was bound to break and you watched through bleary eyes as his hand fell back to his side.

‘You don’t deserve to beat yourself about it forever either’ he told you. Closing the gap between you so he could place his hands on your arms and the sudden proximity of him made you dizzy. Looking up into his big brown eyes that still held so much sadness and you hated that you were the cause. ‘If I can learn to move on from it then you need to as well’

‘You haven’t moved on though, have you’ You told him. The tears welling in your eyes finally spilling over onto your cheeks and he was quick to wipe them away before cupping your jaw. His touch warming your skin and you had to fight every instinct not to rest your cheek into his hand as he sent you a barely there smile.

‘I’m getting there’ he nodded. ‘Please don’t cry, I don’t want you going in there upset’

‘I’ll be fine, I should get going’ you told him and as soon as the words left your mouth he dropped his hands back to his sides.

‘Good luck, okay. You got it’

‘Thank you’ you whispered. Giving him one last smile before he was walking away but just as he got to the door you knew you had to say something before you forgot.

‘Mason wait’ you called, watching him turn to you with his brows raised in confusion and you closed the gap as you didn’t want what you were about to say to be heard by everyone there. ‘Those pictures, I never sent them anywhere. I deleted them all I promise’ you told him.

‘Thank you’ he whispered, a grateful expression on his face and you felt your heart settle a bit knowing he was happy about it. ‘Text me when you’re done? I wanna know how you got on’

‘Okay’ you whispered, sending one last smile his way before you went back to Flo and you were thankful she didn’t mention another word about it.

You did as Mason asked and let him know the meeting went really well, the label agreeing then and there to the deal and once you let him know you were on the phone to your parents to tell them all about it too and you could tell they were shocked but more than anything they were pleased you’d taken their words on board so quickly.

Texting Mason became somewhat of a regular thing after that. Suzi pushing you to message him to say thank you for the birthday gift he’d gotten you and since you were putting it to such good use, you figured you could send him a little picture of where you’d decided to put it. You were full of dread and panic as soon as you hit send until he messaged you back and soon enough you got into a rhythm with it.

You’d message each other here and there about random things. You knew he was busy and now you were becoming busy with work it wasn’t always possible to talk everyday, that coupled with the fact you didn’t feel worthy of his forgiveness and the possibility you thought he could turn on you and call you out any second for your behaviour made your nervous and unsure about talking to him.

Suzi was always there to talk you up though, spending a night on facetime with you when one of Mason's games was on so she could teach you the rules and even though you had no idea what everyone was doing, it was fun watching him run around and go for people. The bridge of his nose getting redder as the minutes passed by but his smile was wide and that’s all you cared about.

‘You should text him, congratulate him on the win’ she told you when it was over and even though you’d been texting back and forth for a little while you were doubtful of if you should. Your face crinkling in uncertainty which in turn made her giggle and no matter how much she tried to talk you around for the next half an hour you were on the phone with her, you told her you thought it was best you left it and she didn’t want to push you.

It was as soon as you got in bed that the itch to speak to him started. She’d planted the seed in your head but as you hadn't heard from him in a few days you were unsure if he wanted to talk to you again. Thinking maybe he was coming to realise he was still unhappy with you and wanted some space but before you could overthink it more than you already had you’d typed up a small message and hit send.

The emoji and use of the name love had you grinning like a schoolgirl. Catching yourself for a moment and wondering what the hell you were doing but you couldn’t deny you were seeing Mason in a whole new way and you were hoping you could someday get to be friends again just like you thought he wanted.

Everything with Flo was going well too, she was smart and on it and excited for all the new projects the two of you were starting but for the plans you had today you were flying solo. In fact she had no idea what you were up to but you’d told her to man the fort as you were out on a special mission.

The original record store was In Portsmouth but since the factory had opened in Manchester it made sense in your mind to open a store up here too. In fact it was your idea when you’d first moved up here and it was something that had impressed your parents in the beginning but just like the rest of the business, it was plodding along and needed a bit of spicing up.

The store had only been open for an hour when you showed up unannounced and apart from your store manager Clive, the shop was empty. To say he was surprised to see you was an understatement as this wasn’t somewhere you frequented a lot but he also seemed happy enough to see you.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure’ he smiled, popping down his pen from where he was doodling on a scrap piece of paper.

‘Well I was hoping I could come and work here today?’ You asked and the mask of shock that took over his face made you giggle. ‘I want to see what’s going on and maybe pick your brains a bit? I’d love to get more people in and I’m sure you’ve got some ideas’

You knew you were onto something special when he grabbed his notebook and began rattling off all the thoughts he had about the shop. From ‘album of the week’ displays to being more active on social media, you loved everything he came up with and once you’d discussed more concrete plans it was nearly lunch time.

‘Why don’t you take a proper break today? I’ll look after everything’ you assured him and it didn’t take much to get him to agree and after quickly showing you how to use the till he was off out and you were on your own.

Half an hour had passed and still no one had entered the shop so you got working putting some new stock out and tidying up a bit. Not that there was much to do as Clive clearly ran a tight ship but there wasn’t much else to do so you started making up jobs.

You were reorganising a shelf when you heard the bell on the door go. Looking around to see a girl around your age walking in with someone behind them and you gave her a quick smile before carrying on with what you were doing.

Whoever she was with clearly didn’t want to be here. You could hear her calling him a grump and asking him to cheer up but his little grunts of annoyance were making you laugh.

You didn’t stay hidden for too much longer, running out of things to put away so you stood up and made your way back to the front to grab another handful of things to sort out but you were stopped in your tracks as you turned in the aisle. Almost walking into the grumpy man that you hadn’t caught a glimpse of yet but as soon as you had you felt shock roll through you.

‘Mason?’ You gulped, your eyes peering up at him in surprise but he was sending you a warm smile which made you feel better. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I could ask you the same thing’ he smiled and it settled your heart a bit to know this wouldn’t be awkward. Yes you’d been texting but you haddn’t seen him since your meeting and that was a couple of weeks ago now.

‘Well I do kind of own the place’ you joked, wondering if he’d laugh or get a bit awkward with you but thankfully for you, you knew he found it funny as his eyes crinkled at the sides.

‘Okay, you’ve got me there’ he nodded. Ducking his head and pressing his lips together like he was suppressing a smile and you almost smiled back yourself but the presence of the girl he was with was making you feel a bit awkward and you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the fact you didn’t know he was dating, in fact you’d never seen him with a girl ever, but you tried not to let it show you were feeling weird about it.

‘It’s nice to see you, but I’ll let you get back to your date’

‘Date?’ He laughed, following your eye line to the pretty brunette in the corner but he just shook his head. ‘That’s my stylist, Carlotta. We’re just in between shoots and she wanted to look for something’

‘Oh’ you gulped, not sure what that feeling was but you knew you felt good about the fact he wasn’t on a date and it confused you. You couldn’t think about it for too long though as the bell on the shop door was going again and you were surprised to see Clive looking at the pair of you with such a big smile on his face.

‘Mason, good to see you man’

‘You know each other?’ You asked Clive as you joined him at the till and you could feel Mason was following on behind.

‘He’s one of my regulars’ Clive told you, turning to Mason so you could raise a brow at him and you could see him blushing before he shrugged at you. ‘Oh y/n, I thought of another idea whilst I was getting lunch. What do you think about setting up a record player at the album of the month display? We can pop some headphones in and have a little listening stand so people can listen before they buy’

‘I like that’ you nodded. I’ve got a few knocking around at the factory, I can bring one over’

‘I remember you used to have that in the shop at home’ Mason nodded. ‘I tell you what though, the best thing you guys ever had there was the live sessions’ he smiled before tending his attention to Clive. ‘Last Thursday of every month they’d get someone in to do a set and I’d always go with my brother’

‘Well why don’t we do that here?’ Clive asked, looking at you with an excited smile and you knew what he’d be asking next.

‘We stopped doing it at Portsmouth cause we couldn't afford to pay people back then but I bet I could set aside some budget and bring it back here. Maybe we can invite some more up and coming artists? Give them a bit of a platform and a chance to show themselves’

‘This is the best day ever’ Clive said more to himself than to you but you couldn’t help but share a secret smile with Mason as Clive typed away on his laptop. Mouthing him a quick thank you and you really were thankful for seeing him today.

You carried on like that for a few weeks, texting Mason most days as you sent each other silly things and as your friendship slowly developed again you started to feel even worse about what you’d done.

Mason was a sweetheart, constantly making time for you when you didn’t deserve it but knowing you made him happy with a few silly texts made your heart thump and all you wanted was to make him happier. To make up for all the times you’d let him down in all the years you’d known him as you fully came to terms with the fact you’d never treated him how he should have been.

You wanted to say sorry to him properly but you didn’t really know how to do it. You wanted it to be personal and meaningful so he knew it was sincere but you’d been thinking for days and nothing felt right.

It came to you one night as you were getting your things ready for work, hoping you could use the resources you had available at your fingertips to put something together for him and after some careful planning and a late night in the factory, you’d managed to pull together something you thought was worthy of an apology he deserved.

It was the thought of giving it to him that was putting you off, not wanting to get upset in front of him again but you wanted him to have what you’d made him so on a rare day off you’d taken to sort some things out at home, you made the trip to his house. It was just after lunch when you arrived to drop it off by his door, hoping he was out so you could leave it there for him to look at when he was back but your plans were thwarted as soon as you began walking up his drive.

His car wasn’t parked on the drive which had given you the confidence to walk up in the first place, hoping you could pop it by his front door, but you were about halfway up when his front door swung open and his eyes landed on you immediately.

‘What you doing here?’ He laughed, walking out of his door and clicking his key to open the garage behind him as he chuckled at you and you weren’t sure if you wanted to say something or run back down his drive. His garage door now fully open to reveal his cars and you realised how stupid you were to not realise they were in there.

‘I’ve got something for you’ you gulped as you approached him, deciding to take the plunge and tell the truth but the way he was looking at you with a confused smile as he tilted his head to the side was making you want to run. ‘I was just gonna leave it somewhere’

‘What is it?’ He asked cheekily, holding his hand out to take it from you and even though you felt embarrassed now and didn’t want to give it up, you handed it over to him.

‘A mixtape, of sorts’ you mumbled. ‘I realised the other day I never actually apologised for what I did and I wanted to do something nice for you. Although I’m just realising you’ll probably think of it whenever you play this and I’ve probably ruined all the songs on there for you so maybe this was a bad idea’

‘Nah, I love it’ he laughed, his face lighting up as he read over the handwritten tracklist on the back but you could feel your face heating up with every second that went by and before you knew it, your mouth was running away with you.

‘I really am sorry, Mase. I can’t even begin to explain how much’ you croaked. You didn’t want to get emotional again but every time you saw him it just slapped you in the face what an awful person you were and what an awful thing you had done.

‘It’s okay, I know you are’ he told you softly but all you could do was sob as you hid your face. Not even pushing him away when he wrapped his arms around you, simply melting into his frame as he stroked your back gently and rested his cheek on the top of your head. ‘Hey come on, what’s all these tears for?’

‘I just can’t help but feel like I’ve messed up probably the best thing I could have ever had’ you confessed and you could sense he was a little shocked as his body stiffened before his posture softened once more.

‘I’m not one to hold a grudge, especially not when it comes to you’ he told you quietly, pulling away so he could look at you before reaching up to stroke your cheek softly in order to get you to look at him. ‘I get why you did it, yeah? We’ve all been fucked up for someone once’

‘Yeah but you don’t go and do what I did’

‘Not to that extreme maybe, no’ he chuckled, stroking your cheek to get rid of your tears. ‘But I’ve forgiven you, yeah? We don’t have to be all awkward with each other. I was hoping we could go back to being friends at least? And I mean proper friends, not whatever it was before’ he joked, trying his best to make you smile but you seemed to just be sobbing more.

‘You can’t forgive me Mase, not when I can’t forgive myself’ you sobbed, trying your hardest to stop your bottom lip from wobbling and as he quickly wiped the tears from your cheeks you found the strength to carry on. ‘When I look at you, I just feel sad… and guilty. I don’t wanna live like that forever’

‘You don’t have to’ he told you, shaking his head softly as he looked at you with so much concern it made your chest ache. ‘Why don’t we do something together?’

‘Like what?’ You laughed, thinking this was the last thing you expected him to say but you loved the way his face lit up knowing you were a little bit happier.

‘I don’t know, spend the rest of the day together doing something? Make some new memories and turn that frown upside down’ he joked, moving his hands to squeeze your shoulders and it was almost as if you couldn't believe what he was saying.

‘You don’t wanna spend the day with me’ you laughed, trying to test him a little bit to see if he was just having a laugh with you but his face remained serious.

‘Yeah I do’ he shrugged like it was the most simple thing in the world and you still didn’t understand why he was being so kind. ‘Why don’t we go and get some ice cream?’

‘Ice cream?’

‘Yeah, remember at school when you had that awful maths teacher, what was his name again?’ He asked and you knew exactly who he meant.

‘Mr Smith. Or Mr Shit as I called him’ you scowled, the mere mention of his name annoying you but the sound of Mason's giggles brought you back to reality.

‘Exactly, and there was that one day where he’d pepper chewed you out so you, me, Jamie and Rach got ice cream and sat on the beach’

‘How do you remember that?’

‘I remember a lot about you’ he smiled with a shrug. ‘But i remember you were a lot happier by the time we were done’

‘I haven’t had ice cream in months’

‘That might explain why you’re such a mardy arse then’ he teased but before you could say anything back he was leading you into his garage and opening the passenger door to his car with a smile. ‘Come on, my treat. We can go by the canal and pretend it’s the sea’

‘Maybe we can feed the ducks if we see any?’ You asked excitedly and he was nodding back with just as much enthusiasm and all thoughts of not wanting to hang out with him were out the window. Jumping in his car as he ran around to the other side after shutting your door and the soft smile he sent you as he set off made your heart thump.

It wasn’t exactly the time of year for it, but you were still annoyed you couldn’t find an ice cream van for love nor money. In the end, parking up and running into a small Tesco so you could pick one out of the freezer before Mason let you know there was a good view of old Trafford not too far away and suggested that you should walk by that section of the canal. You happily went along with it as you were up for doing whatever he wanted but it was nice you get some fresh air and sun on your face for a bit.

You’d never been this close to old Trafford before and you stopped by a railing so you could lean on it and take a better look. Mason's arm brushing up against yours as you stood side by side and ate in silence until your mouth started talking before you’d even realised.

‘It's huge’ you commented, nodding your head towards the stadium as you both finished your ice creams and when he held his hand out to take your rubbish you passed it over so he could pop it in the bin. ‘Do you ever get scared?’

‘Sometimes, I have a little trick though’ he smiled, moving to stand behind you with a hand on your hip and as his chest hit your back you felt your knees go weak. You weren’t expecting him to get this close to you but you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying it.

‘On the other side the corner to the left, well that’s the one that faces south. So everything I feel scared or like I don’t think I can do it, I just look that way and I know I’m facing home. Things don’t feel so scary then’ he told you softly and you felt your eyes fill up at his words.

You were as stiff as a board and you knew it, willing yourself to relax a bit but as his free hand flanked your other side once he’d stopped talking you felt even more awkward. It was like you were too nervous to concentrate on anything other than the way his hands felt holding you again and you hadn't realised how much you’d missed being this close to him.

‘Hey, relax’ he laughed in your ear quietly, clearly feeling how stiff you were in his hold but with one squeeze of your waist you felt yourself melting into him a bit. His arms now circling you as he pulled you closer into his body but it was when he rested his cheek on the top of your head that you finally went with it. Your arms now on top of his to hold him back and it was like you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as a sense of belonging washed over you.

The view was beautiful from here, but there was one thing you couldn’t see that you knew was even more beautiful. Turning your head to the side and looking up so you could catch a glimpse of his chocolate eyes and as soon as you did you were turning in his arms to face him. No longer content with being stood like this as you wanted to hold him properly and as you carefully wrapped your arms around his neck he pulled you impossibly closer.

You’d never had a hug like this before, that felt like this before and you could fell your eyes sting as his touch set you alight. Feeling as though he was filling you up with his love with each stroke of his thumbs on your back and as you felt him nuzzle his face into the side of your neck you let out a shuddery breath.

‘You okay, sweetheart?’ He whispered into your skin, his arms gently swaying you from side to side in the most comforting way and you willed yourself to keep your emotions in check.

‘I’m fine’ you sniffed, pulling away just enough so that you could look at him and the sympathetic expression on his face almost set you off again. ‘Just a lot on my mind’ you laughed as you rolled your eyes but he just squeezed you a little tighter in response.

‘Tell me’

‘I know you keep saying it’s fine and you've forgiven me but I just still feel like crap’ you laughed. ‘Moving up here, I suppose it was meant to be a bit of a fresh start for me and I wanted to show everyone who I could be. Like you all thought I was a dork at school but look at me now but I’ve gone so far the other way it’s like I don’t know who I am anymore. I should have never thought it was okay to do what I did’

‘I never thought you were a dork. I’ve always seen you, you know? But this… how you are up here… it’s not you, y/n’

‘I know’ you sniffed, it really hitting home that he knew you probably better than you knew yourself at this point and as your eyes selfishly flashed to his lips all you could think about was kissing him again after he’d taken your breath away all those weeks ago. ‘No one’s ever seen me like you before’

‘That’s cause no one’s ever loved you like me before’ he told you softly and even though you’d always known it, it was still a shock to hear the words coming from him. A wobbly breath falling from your lungs as his words hit you whilst his loving smile made you want to smile back at him twice as wide. ‘Stupidly or not, I’ve always loved you. I figured if I was nice enough then maybe one day you could learn to love me back’ he confessed and you felt your bottom lip drop.

‘I know what I did was awful, but I’m not horrible. I’m just a bit dumb, you know?’ You told him tearily but you smiled as he laughed along with you. Tucking your hair behind your ear softly as his happy eyes bore into yours and you knew you wanted to keep talking. ‘One day I think, well I know, that I’ll be able to love you too. I just hope it’s not too late’ you nodded and your heart swelled as he nodded along with you. ‘I know sorry won’t make up for everything but it’s all I have for you right now. Just give me some time to prove myself’

‘You don’t realise it but I can tell you’re on the way back already. If you would have carried on like you were then I wouldn't have bothered trying to talk to you again’ he laughed but you didn’t have a chance to reply as a flash in the corner of your eye startled you before a loud crash of thunder made you squeal in terror.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay’ he reassured you, pulling you into his body carefully as you froze in terror and after a frightened whimper left your lips he was pulling you back in the direction of his car. ‘Come let’s go back to mine’

It was around a half an hour drive back to Masons house and when you pulled up onto his drive you were wondering if he was going to invite you in or send you on your way but once you were out of his car he was pulling you up the drive to his front door and taking you inside without even asking.

‘You want a drink or anything?’

‘Oh I’m… it’s okay I can go if you’re busy’ you told him, not wanting to interrupt his day anymore than you had but he just smiled at you warmly.

‘No no, rest of the day today remember? I’m not letting the rain stop that’ he winked ‘Come on, we can go relax for a bit’

‘Mase-‘ you started but another crash of thunder made you jump and his eyes softened as he reached for you.

‘Y/n come on’ he probed gently. ‘You’re exhausted’

‘I’m okay’

‘Not you’re not. Come lay down’ he all but demanded, and when he pulled you to his living room by your hand you went with him.

‘Mase-‘

‘Just do it, It’s okay’ he reassured you, stopping by his sofa so he could rearrange the cushions for you and when he reached for the blanket you felt your heart warm. ‘Just relax, okay? I’ve got some stuff to do but I’ll be in the other room so I’ll be quiet’ he told you but he could clearly tell you were still unsure. ‘Please’

‘Fine’ you huffed, rolling your eyes playfully as you flopped onto his sofa and you couldn’t stop the giggles as he tucked you in and popped a kiss on your temple.

You tried to sleep, your body aching from how knackered you were but after Mason had finished whatever he was up to in the house you could feel his presence on the other side of the room and you turned to face him. His eyes on you as you got comfortable on your side to look at him and you sent a shy smile his way which he returned.

‘I thought you were having a kip? It’s only been fifteen minutes’ Mason asked as he looked over to you from the other side of the sofa. Noticing he’d been scrolling on his phone waiting for you for a few minutes but now you were looking at him, his phone was away so he could focus just on you. You just shrugged your shoulders though as you didn’t know how to tell him you couldn’t sleep as all you could think about was him.

‘Not tired now’ you mumbled but as you tapped the space next to you but you knew that wasn’t the only reason. ‘Come and lay with me’

You didn’t really ask him, more like demanded that he come over to you but just like always he did exactly as you asked. Carefully getting up before squishing himself in next to you and after a little bit of a tangle with your arms and legs, his arm was around your waist as you half laid on top of him and rested your head in your hand so you could look down at him.

You’d never really taken the time to look at him properly before. Even from a mile away anyone could see he was handsome, and you’d always known he was objectively good looking, but looking at him up close was a whole different ball game.

His lashes were so long as they brushed his cheeks when he looked down but it was the big brown eyes that they framed that melted you. It’s like they were telling you all you needed to know about how he felt and you loved that he was so open with his feelings for you. You just hoped you could repay the favour one day if he was willing to wait.

‘What are you blushing for?’ You whispered. Noticing the way his nose and cheeks were now tinged pink but as soon as the words left your mouth he was just blushing deeper until the bridge of his nose was a deep red.

‘I’m not’ he scoffed, trying to look away and hide his face but you held his jaw and made him keep looking at you.

‘You are’ you giggled, stroking the bridge of his nose ever so gently as he looked up at you in awe. ‘Right here, you’re all red’

‘I’m always red there’ he smiled before his face got a little more serious. ‘I know this is practically common knowledge at this point, but I’ve had a crush on you since I was 13’ he confessed and you loved the fact he wasn’t shy with it but you noticed he could no longer hold your eye contact. ‘I’ve always dreamt of moments like this with you. I’ve never once not wanted this, even when I said my feelings for you were gone they never went anywhere’

You were left speechless by his declaration. In the back of your mind you’d known when you hurt him and he’d thrown all those angry words in your face he was speaking out of frustration rather than from the heart, but you couldn’t believe how good it felt to have him speak about you so positively. If Mason, who was a ray of sunshine in your life thought so highly of you then you couldn’t be that bad, right?

You'd been awful and you knew you didn’t deserve it, but you wanted him to carry on. To talk about you like no one else would so he could make you feel like no one else ever had and as you smiled down at him you could see he was looking up at you suspiciously.

‘Tell me more’ you whispered, watching his eyes roll sarcastically and you knew he was embarrassed a little bit.

‘You know how I feel about you’

‘I know but I wanna hear more’ you asked him with a cheeky smile. The hand that had been settled on his chest moving up to cup his jaw and as you stroked his cheek gently it was like you could feel him relax into the cushions even more.

‘I think you're beautiful’ he whispered, his eyes flicking all over your face. ‘And funny and kind-‘

‘That a lie’ you scoffed, cutting him off with a laugh and thankfully he was laughing with you.

‘Well not all the time’ he teased with a wink but you knew he was just trying to have a laugh with you so you sent him a wink back. ‘But I know you’ve got a lot of love to give, even to people who don’t deserve it’

‘How can you talk about me like this after everything I did? You should hate me’

‘I’ve never hated you, never have never will’ he confirmed cheekily before he face got serious again. ‘I was just disappointed, that’s all. I thought that could have been the start of something for us’ he told you sadly and you couldn’t look at him anymore, your eyes now fixed on his chest as your fingers played with the strings on his hoodie. ‘But like I said, no one’s loved you like I do and even something like that won’t make me feel any different and I don’t care if that’s stupid or whatever. I’d rather take my chances and have you while I can than not at all and I knew it might have only lasted that one night. I just figured you were worth it’

‘God I’ve been a right bitch to you’ you laughed, your eyes filling up again. ‘Not even just these past few months but since we’ve known each other. I never even bothered to get to know you and it’s it’s like you’ve been here the whole time’

‘Well I knew I’d wear you down eventually, I just didn’t think it would take 14 years’ he chuckled, trying to make you smile as he could tell you were getting upset again. ‘These last few weeks, everytime the doors gone I always wonder if it’s you. And I think about what I’d do if it was’ he smiled. ‘Hours Ive sat here, thinking about bringing you inside and sitting you down. Talking about everything’s that happened like we have done and thinking about what I wanna say’

‘Do you have anything else left?’

‘I think I’ve got it all out’ he laughed. ‘But I just want you to remember that I’m okay, and I think if we put our minds to it we can move on from this. I basically have but I don’t want you to stress anymore’ he told you. Reaching up to tuck some hair behind your ear and the action made your breath hitch in your throat. ‘Do you have anything else you want to say?’

‘A little thing’ you laughed, hoping he’d see the funny side of what you were about to say. ‘Remember when I said I deleted all those pictures?’ You told him and you saw his brows crease as he nodded. ‘Well I may have kept one of them. Just the one of us in the bathroom and you can’t even see your face’ you explained and thankfully he was smiling at you. ‘I just… if you never wanted to speak to me again, I just wanted a reminder that it was all real’

‘I’ll allow it’ he winked. ‘Thank you for being honest’

‘I’m trying my best’ you giggled and as he squeezed your thigh you felt your heart stutter.

‘Did you have a nice day today?’ He asked and you were happy for the change of subject as it had all been pretty heavy so far. Looking back to his kind face that radiated warmth and all you could think about was kissing him but you knew it was off the cards.

‘I did, yeah’ you smiled, stroking his cheek lightly as he smiled up at you. ‘I’m a bit upset we never got to see any ducks though’

‘That’s cause they don’t live down that way’ he said matter of factly and you felt your eyebrows pinch in confusion before you laughed.

‘What? Why didn’t you tell me before?’ You giggled. Watching him blush a bit as he smiled back at you and you couldn’t remember a time where you’d ever felt happier.

‘Cause you were excited to look for them’ he shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to disappoint you but telling you they weren’t there’

‘Well thank you’ you laughed, rolling your eyes playfully but he just winked back at you.

‘You know, I never thanked you actually’ he told you, bumping his leg into yours before trapping it between his own.

‘What for?’ You giggled, not being able to think of a single thing he would ever have to thank you for.

‘For standing up for me at your birthday’ he told you and the fact he’d confirmed that he’d definitely overheard what you’d said made your cheeks redden. ‘Even if you didn’t mean it at the time it was still nice to hear’

‘I did mean it’ you nodded. ‘And when I told you you work out who your friends are when things are tough, I meant that too. You were the only one who messaged me to check in on me, you know. Not just asking questions or trying to get any gossip from me but to actually ask about me. And I just threw it back in your face’

‘Y/n-‘

‘I can’t stop thinking about you’ you whispered, cutting him off as he looked up at you sweetly and hung on your every word. ‘And not in a bad way like I said earlier. It's like I can’t stop thinking about your smile, the way you touched me… kissed me’ you gulped and the slight smirk that formed on his lips made your heart race. ‘You know I’d give anything to go back and change that night’

‘I know love’ he nodded sympathetically and just like always it’s like he could read your mind. Knowing exactly what to say to make you feel better but you weren’t expecting what was about to come out of his mouth. ‘You know, you don’t have to close the door on anything, my door is still very much open’ he told you as he tried to wiggle himself into you further and you carried on lazily brushing your fingers over his chest as you peered down at him.

‘What?’ You questioned but you knew from his expression what he meant. ‘Why?’

‘You do stupid things when you love someone’ he whispered and you knew his words applied to the both of you.

‘I don’t… I don’t love him. Not anymore’ you gulped as you shook your head vigorously. ‘In all honesty I don’t think I ever really did, not how you’re supposed to love someone anyway. I think I just loved the image of him, you know? Like what we could be in my mind was better than what we actually were’

‘I know’

‘We never said that to each other anyway. I tried once and didn’t exactly get the response I wanted so I never tried again’ you smiled, trying to laugh it off a bit but he just carried on looking at your earnestly.

‘You deserve to be told you’re loved every single day, he was never good enough for you. And that's not me saying I am-

‘Mase-‘

‘Wait let me finish’ he laughed before his face got serious again. ‘You’re so special to me and I can’t even explain why. It’s like my soul knows you’re meant to be mine or something’ he laughed. ‘And I’m not expecting you to feel the same, I accepted it a long time ago that you don’t but you’re so hard to move on from’

‘So don't’ you whispered and you knew your answer confused him as his brows pinched together.

‘Don’t what?’

‘Move on from me’ you gulped, hoping he would understand what you were saying. ‘Don’t move on, stay right where you are and I’ll come to you. I’m really not that far away, I’ve been on my way to you for a while now I just didn’t realise it’ you reassured him but he wasn’t giving much away as he looked up at your face. ‘You can trust me Mase’

‘I know’

‘You don’t’ you smiled sadly. You hadn't given him anything to trust ever and you wanted him to know it was okay that he doubted you. ‘But I’ll prove it, I promise’

You didn’t know if you were allowed but you couldn't stop yourself anymore. Cradling his cheek in your hand as you peered down at him and you could see it in his eyes how much he wanted to kiss you even though he was scared. You took charge though and tilted his head ever so slightly before leaning down and pressing your lips to his.

You forgot how good it felt to kiss him, the world around you blurring at the edges and all you could see and feel was Mason. His strong heartbeat pounding away under your fingers that were laid on his chest and no matter how soft you tried to keep things it was Mason who was deeping it. His free hand holding the back of your head so you wouldn’t part from him but you didn’t want to anyway. He felt safe, like home, and you only pulled away when you absolutely had to so you could take a breath.

‘Will you let me take you out? On a proper date, not for a walk to look for imaginary ducks’ Mason whispered to you after a while. Your forehead still resting on his and as you giggled he squeezed your sides gently.

‘I’d like that’ you grinned. Dipping back down to kiss him and you knew you’d finally be okay.

Three Months Later

‘Will you stop checking your phone?’ You heard from next to you. Turning to see Suzi stood there with her arms crossed over her body and you realised instantly you hadn't even realised she’d joined you as you were so engrossed with your phone.

‘He said he’d be here’ you pouted. Chancing a look again at your messages but it was exactly the same as you’d left it 5 seconds ago.

‘And he will be, it’s his bloody idea after all’ she laughed as she walked off but the sound of the bell going off on the shop door caught your attention. His eyes finding yours immediately and you knew the smile on your face was just as wide as his.

‘Hello beautiful’ Mason whispered as he approached you. Dipping down to kiss your cheek gently and you were blushing hard at the gesture instantly. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t find a parking space it’s rammo out there’

‘That’s okay, you’re here now’ you laughed, letting him stand behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and once he was settled you were looking up at him over your shoulder softly. ‘Missed you’

‘Missed you too’ he grinned down at you, your head tilting up in hopes he’d lean down to kiss you and he didn’t need telling twice. Dipping his head to place the sweetest kiss on your lips that made your head spin and you finally felt like you were back where you belonged now you were in his arms.

‘Ugh’ Suzie gagged from next to you as just rejoined you both with a drink in her hand and her disgust caused you both to pull away with a giggle. ‘I think I preferred it when you two didn’t talk’ she teased but you knew she was just joking. She had been the one to push to hang out with Mason more and more since you told her you’d made up that day on his sofa and when you told her two weeks ago you’d finally become official, she was over the moon for you both.

You watched as Mason greated Suzi quickly before moving onto your parents. Big smiles on all their faces as they hugged and chatted away like they’d always known him and it warmed your heart to know they were all getting on so well. Wanting to go and join them now that everything was set up in the shop but as you approached you could hear Mason and your dad deep in conversation.

‘Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. She’s got her spark back since you’ve been back around’ he told Mason and you could see from a mile off his much it meant to Mason to hear that from him.

‘Well if I’m being honest she’s done the same for me, I think we both just needed a reminder of home’ he shrugged, trying to brush it off just like everytime you complimented him but your dad just laughed and patted him on the back.

‘Yeah well, I think it was a bit more than that’ he teased. ‘But I’m glad you’ve got each other’

‘Me too’ Mason smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides before they were searching for you and once he’d found what he was looking for he held his hand out for you to take.

‘I got you a drink’ you smiled and the way he beamed back at you made your heart swell. Taking it from your hand to place on the side next to yours before popping a kiss on your forehead.

‘Thank you, gorgeous’

‘I should be saying that to you’ you laughed. Wrapping an arm around his waist as he wrapped his around your shoulders protectively and you wanted to melt into him as you felt so safe and warm. ‘This is amazing Mase I can’t believe we did it’

‘You did it’ he told you pointedly but you weren’t having any of it.

‘Well it was your idea, and you helped plan and set up so I’d say you did it’

‘Well you’re very pretty’ he winked. His random compliment throwing you off a little but you knew you were blushing as you hid your face in his shoulder. ‘I mean it, you look beautiful’

‘Well then you’re very pretty too’ you chuckled but he didn’t have time to respond however the blush on his cheeks told you everything. The lights darkening as the artist you’d booked finally came out to a loud applause and after a quick introduction she started to perform.

She was four songs in when she announced she was mixing things up a bit and was going to sing a cover and as soon as her fingers hit the keys you knew the song. One you’d put on Masons I’m sorry playlist and you knew he realised too as he squeezed your waist gently in response and pulled you closer into his body. Your face tilted up and over your shoulder to see his and he was looking back down at you so softly you felt your eyes well up. An unspoken realisation between the pair of you that thing song was special to you and as he placed a kiss to your forehead you realised again how far you both had come.

It was you that pulled Mason away and out of the crowd so you could stand off to the side on your own. The pair of you in your own little bubble as you held each other and whispered the lyrics in each other's ear until you couldn’t take it anymore and reached up to kiss him.

You still couldn’t get over the feeling of being so close with him. The way he would hold you as he poured himself into you, the way his hold was always so gentle but strong and the way he didn’t care that anyone could see you he just wanted to kiss you and you wanted the same just as much.

I wanna say, Without you, everything's wrong

And you were everything I need all along

I wanna say, I wish that you never left

I love you so much’ you whispered as you pulled away, the words falling from your lips for the first time ever and you could tell Mason was shocked before the biggest grin you’d ever seen took over his face. His hands gripping your cheeks so he could pull you in for another heated kiss before his forehead rested on yours.

‘I love you too’ he whispered, his eyes bright and happy and you knew you’d never get over the feeling of being the one to make him smile. ‘I can’t believe you just said that to me’

‘Well you did say you’d wear me down eventually’ you winked, your heart swelling as he laughed with you and you knew you were finally on the right path with the boy who brought you peace.

Thanks so much for reading you beautiful people 😘 if you feel like, I’d love to know what you think so feel free to leave me some feedback if you’d like 🩷

[bea0206]

So so good 💕

greed ☆ op81

genre: smut, affair, erotic literature, angst, forbidden romance, enemies to "lovers", a bit angst/yearning, established relationships, voyeurism

word count: 16.4k

greed (noun) — intense and selfish desire for something, especially wealth, power, or food.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...pwp, unprotected sex, missionary, riding, fingering, f!receiving, deep throat, m!receiving, finger sucking

inspired by red sex (re-strung) [rakhi singh]

cherry here!...had fun writing this one teheee. it's a long one, so definitely take breaks in between and enjoy. missed you guys!

Twirling your tongue around the bright pink straw, you blink blankly, quietly taking in the conversation that occurs in front of you. You should probably talk a bit, you remember thinking. Smile, at least, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to lie—you didn't want to be here.  

“I thought you hated pineapple?” 

Turning, you shrug half-heartedly over at Lando. “It makes my mouth itch,” you mumble, not enjoying a single sip of the smoothie. Well, except for the whipped cream. Taking a lick, your eyes stay connected onto his blue ones as he shakes his head. 

“Don’t drink it, then,” he tries, but you simply turn a blind eye, facing the complete opposite direction. From where you're sitting, you spot a group of kids playing jump rope. Even when one of them falls with a loud splat and starts to cry, you continue to stare.

“Oh no,” a soft voice gasps.  As soon as you hear it, you grind your teeth, hearing a slight crack immediately. “Poor baby.”

You like to think of yourself as an even person. Everyone who enters your life deserves a fair chance. You’ll get to know them—befriend them, perhaps—and if it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, but no one can say you never tried.

But oh, how you hated Lily Zneimer.

The worst part of all is that there isn’t really a single reason for your sudden distaste towards her. On paper, you two should be the best of friends, but the one thing holding you back is sitting right in front of you.

Oscar clicks his tongue, a nice tick coming through as his sharp brows raise with surprise as he watches the scene unfold. He, too, sort of remains as stoic as you, but the one difference is that he has a bit more empathy. You lack a lot of that, you’ll be the first to admit. 

The cries continue, the young boy's parents suddenly alert by now as they run towards their child. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he says, squinting his eyes due to the bright sun. “It builds character.”

“Getting hurt?” Lily asks, frowning as she gently shoves his shoulder. “You really do have a heart made of ice.”

This gets a snicker out of your boyfriend, making you sigh, instantly checking out, but Lando is as happy as can be. While he enjoys the moment, you lack interest in it, and if it weren’t for the fact that the Australian was the one that invited you both out for drinks, then you would have happily been tucked away in bed. Make good use of the hotel perks and whatnot. 

The brown eyed driver swings a hand behind his girlfriend's chair, playfully tugging her hair, making her blush and making you recoil with disgust. Not that you ever show it, but you definitely feel it. “Maybe I do, but only you can make it melt.”

That’s enough to call it a day. Standing abruptly, the chair squeaks against the pavement as you share a tight lipped smile. All at once, their eyes look up at you as you force a yawn. “I think I’m going to head up now. Thanks for the invite,” you say. 

Lily pouts subtly, blue eyes round and hazy. “So soon? It’s still early.”

You nod, sparing her small smile, but deep within, the sound of her sweet voice begins to irritate you to the point you think you might snap. “The sun’s got me tired. I just need to lay down a bit.” Leaning forward, you peck Lando’s cheek, warm and sandy. “But I'll see you later, yeah?” 

“Sure,” she squeaks, waving numbly as they watch you walk away—practically fleeting, really. Humming sadly, the British girl looks down onto her lap, toying with her bracelets. “I don’t think she likes me much,” she mutters, wincing sheepishly. 

Oscar frowns. “That’s not true…”

Lando frantically nods, feeling bad for Lily and her first encounter with you being a total bust. Come to think of it, ever since the blue eyed girl has been around, you’ve been quite distant. “She hasn’t been sleeping well.” Lie. “She just needs to recharge, that’s all.”

-

You end up spending the next few days locked up in yours and Lando’s room. You avoid the paddock at all costs because you’re really not in the mood to see anyone—especially her. The British driver tried his best to get you out from these four walls, but gave up shortly after you blamed it on a migraine. You haven’t had one of those in years, but he learns to respect your decision. You do promise to be there for his race, though.

And as expected, you see her. Sat perfectly with her legs crossed, the young girl beams, motioning for you to join her on the open chair. At first you act like you don’t see her, preferring to stay standing for the next few hours rather than being pushed up next to her, but when she calls your name, you curse beneath your breath before making your way. 

“Hey,” you cheer, hugging her briefly before taking a seat. 

A giggle. “Hey. I heard you’ve been feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Huh?”

Lily blinks. “Lando said—”

In one quick motion, you click your fingers, nodding along. Right—Lando had lied on your behalf. It completely slipped your mind. Letting out a muffled groan, you wince theatrically, hoping she buys it. She does, worry quickly taking over her gentle gaze. “I have, yeah, I have.” Cheer’s erupt as the camera pans over to the fan zone, then back to the drivers that line up for the National Anthem. “But I'm much better now!”

Her concern slowly melts away as she smiles. “That’s good to hear.”

You would have not traveled with Lando to this week's race if you had known she would be here. Usually, she’s not, but you almost feel as if you know everything about her from how much Oscar talks about her. It gets exhausting hearing the same stories being told over and over again, as if she was the best thing to come around. Was it really that hard to just not bring her up?

But alas, you are here, and so is she. 

It feels like an eternity slowly goes by, so you’re quick to dart out the garage as you make your way towards the podium. The good thing is that she doesn’t need to because Oscar secured a lucky fourth place. Close, but not close enough. 

Running towards you after a round of media, Lando pecks your lips. He smells like a mix of champagne and sweat, not a completely unpleasant scent. He wiggles his brows. “Proud?”

You grin, eyes crinkling just the same as his. “Super.” Another kiss. “You were great out there.”

A subtle shade of red burns his nose as he smiles widely, pulling you towards the direction of McLaren Hospitality, leaving you to follow him as you admire the way everyone looks at him the same way you do. 

You like that he’s a winner. You like that you’re dating the winner. And that’s why you admire him, because he gives you the right to brag about him by simply being his girlfriend. The kind everyone wishes to be. Entering the familiar orange motorhome, you two are caught at a stop as soon as Zak calls out for Lando who turns curiously. 

“My man!” he cheers, making you take a step back and letting them have their moment. You listen for the first few minutes, but when it looks like the congratulatory might run deep, you claim a seat on the nearby sofa, scrolling through your phone to kill time. At some point, you look up to see them bid goodbye, sighing tiredly as you make your way up. Zak grins from ear to ear, pointing at you with nothing but radiant energy. “See you there!”

With that, he walks away, leaving you two alone once again. Raising a sharp brow, you tap Lando’s shoulder with confusion. “What does he mean by that?”

“He’s rented a yacht for the team to celebrate today's win,” he explains, guiding you towards the privacy of his room with a large hand on your lower back. “You know him—he likes to go all out.”

You hum, still walking up in front of him. “I figured you would want to go clubbing…”

There’s a cloudy sigh behind you as he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I mean, yeah, I do, but we should probably skip that and do this instead.” Reaching to twist the knob, you pause, turning to face him with a surprised expression. “What?”

“Nothing,” you respond, shaking your head. “Look at you maturing. You see, my Lando would have never preferred a classy yacht party instead of a trashy club.” 

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’ve changed.”

“Right,” you tease, finally opening the door, but as soon as you do, the room next to you squeaks, indicating someone exiting. Oscar and Lily come to a halt as soon as they spot you both. Your lips open in the smallest of gaps as they smile politely. 

“Congratulations,” the British girl is the first to break the silence as she goes in for a quick side hug, one that Lando accepts without missing a beat. “You must be over the moon.”

“I am,” your boyfriend lets out, still not used to the feeling of being first. A beat. “Hey, did Zak mention anything about—”

“The yacht party?” Oscar fills in with a loopy grin. Lando snickers, nodding at his guess. He shakes his head. “Yeah, but we can’t. I have to drive Lily to the airport.”

Intrigued by the fact, your brows dart up. “Ah, no way—you’re leaving already?”

“Yeah,” she says, smiling tiredly. “I have a few tests lined up for next week, and I can’t miss them.”

“Shame,” you hum, but the relief of not having her around anymore makes you feel a thousand times lighter. “I was going to suggest grabbing dinner next week…”

“Really?” Lando and Lily question in sync, both equally as surprised as one another. On the flipside, Oscar stands with an unrecognizable expression, making you avoid even looking at him because something about it somehow convinces you that he can see right past your lie.

Coughing awkwardly, you bob your head, catching the glimmer in her blue eyes as she holds her breath, almost. Something about it makes you feel bad, but just for a split second. “Yes, really, but it looks like we got a bit unlucky.”

Swiftly, Lily turns to face Oscar with a helpless expression, as if pleading for aid, but for him it was an easy decision. “You can’t skip out on exams,” he whispers lowly, but still clear enough for you to hear. “You know that.”

And sure—she does—but ever since she got here, she’s felt so out of place. Not with the team, not with two McLaren drivers as a duo, but rather with you. And now this? Any opportunity to have you as a friend is as good as gold in her eyes.

And to be quite honest, you didn’t expect for someone as truthful as Lily to lie to their professor in a lengthy email, claiming to be severely down with the flu in order to stay a couple extra days and catch that unpromising dinner you had made up as some way to get her to think you’d miss not having her around. This was your reality and you just had to deal with it.

But Oscar? 

Watching you carefully as you hug Lily back when she leaps with excitement into your arms, he squints with subtle suspicion in your character. Something in your rigidness and mannequin smile makes him want to pull the British girl away from you, feeling the need to protect his girlfriend's innocence. 

Smiling softly over her shoulder, you catch a glimpse of Oscar, making your stomach churn. His eyes remain on you for a second longer before sharing a smile of his own.

Yup, you think to yourself. 

He knows.

_

A week goes by at a snail's place. 

The four of you fly together to the next continent with nothing but fake enthusiasm. Well, fake from you, and unbeknownst, fake from Oscar, too.

He doesn’t know why he doesn’t trust you completely. In hindsight, you haven’t done anything wrong, but everytime you and Lily are together—which is most of the week—it feels like you have. Maybe it had something to do with the sinister glares you’d send her way when you thought no one was looking, or the fact that you’d have to take a heavy breath in preparation every time she’d greet you with a warm hug. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was seeing something that wasn’t there, but that doesn’t mean he’d be at ease for the rest of the week. 

Hence, dinner. 

You find yourself forced to make a reservation at one of the fanciest cuisine restaurants close to where you’re staying and that itself was annoying. You shouldn’t be doing any of this—she shouldn’t even be here.

Smiling gingerly, the British girl let out a small giggle at some joke Lando made. By the looks of it, it’s pretty funny, so you numbly follow her lead, though you have yet to know what it was. “You must be laughing all the time,” Lily notes, blue eyes focused on you with wonder. You hum, pursing your lips with uncertainty. She giggles harder. “Well because of how funny he is.”

Lando claps once, making you flinch in return. “Thank you! It’s about damn time someone appreciates my humor.”

“I do appreciate it,” you defend, slowly losing your patience. Licking your lips, you look back towards Lily who remains with a smile. “Don’t listen to him, he just likes the attention.”

“That I can agree on,” Oscar adds, cracking a grin of his own. Suddenly, you’re all into the discussion. The Australian sneers childishly. “You can’t seem to live a single moment without making things about yourself.”

“Oscar,” Lily warns, faint pink painting her pale skin. “Be nice.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Lando says, waving her off like it’s no big deal—which it’s not. He leans back against his chair, flipping his teammate off who scoffs lightheartedly. “This is how we talk. Right, Osc?”

“Right.”

Somewhere in between dessert, while you’re in the middle of licking your spoon clean, the invitation that came to ruin your life, comes up. Lily clears her throat nervously, suddenly worried by the thought of you turning her down. “I was meaning to ask…” Puzzled, you keep your eyes on her, awaiting her next words. She shrugs sheepishly. “Well, I graduate this summer, and Oscar is throwing me a party up in North Carolina…” She trails off, gathering her words. “I was wondering if you two would like to come?”

“Oh,” Lando's voice comes through like a muffle, mouth full of cheesecake. He swallows, blue eyes flickering between the couple and his girlfriend who remains with a blank expression, metal spoon still in place. “I mean—yeah. Right?”

Unfreezing, you place the utensil down onto your plate, smiling weakly. “Uh…yeah.” Lily grins, letting out a breath of relief, making Oscar frown over the realization that your response mattered so much to her. You nod robotically. “Sure, why not?”

“Great!” Lily cheers, beaming like a kid on Christmas Day. “And don’t worry about spending on a hotel—we’ve got you covered.”

You blink, bewildered. “You do?” 

She nods. “Of course, we do! You’re our guests, you’ll be staying with us.”

Your boyfriend smiles faintly. “That’s kind of you, but it’s really no problem. We wouldn’t want to overcrowd.”

“Nonsense,” the Australian speaks up, shaking his head, brown strands of hair swinging in the slightest. “We have plenty of room. All of our family and friends are already staying in the hotel nearby—it’d be nice to have a bit of company.” His eyes soften, making your heart beat a little faster. “What do you say?”

It feels like he’s looking directly at you—chocolate orbs as sweet as can be. As if nothing else exists in this moment if it’s not you or him. But in reality, his attention is focused on your boyfriend, awaiting his response.

Not yours.

Flustered, you poke Lando’s leg beneath the table, hoping he takes the hint. Blue eyes flicker towards your direction for a millisecond before returning with a nod. “Looks like you have two roomies.”

Lily squeals, smiling brightly as Oscar’s lips remain in a thin line, his version of a smile. 

And if he could turn back time…

He really fucking would.

-

Once the season ends, everyone is on a high. Lando for coming in second in the Driver’s Championship and for bringing in the Constructors Championship for the first time in years, and Oscar for the latter. Regardless, it was an outstanding season for the two of them. 

You and the Brit end up flying in a few days later due to going back home to pack a few more necessities, but once you’ve got that all figured out, you find yourselves in the middle of a heatstroke, making you second guess all your life's choices all at once. 

“It feels as if my skin’s melting off,” you groan, fanning yourself with the roadmap, because as it came, satellites are utter shit when it comes to where you’re staying. Lando tries to convince you that having no internet for a few weeks isn’t all that bad, but as soon as a twenty minute drive turns into a one hour drive due to getting lost without the guidance of a GPS, he regrets his words. You roll your eyes, narrating as he finally pulls up to the driveway of what appears to be the best looking house in all of North Carolina. 

He whistles. “If it weren’t so hot during the summer, I’d definitely move here.”

Scoffing, you exit the car rental, looking up at the navy blue house where green ivy hangs. “We are not moving here. I’d rather die.”

“Fair,” he mumbles as he makes his way towards the front door, you right on his heels. Swinging the door open, you two are instantly hit with the fresh gust of air. “Thank God,” Lando moans, loving the fact that the AC is the only thing preventing him from fainting. 

Pushing him in, you make sure to close the door behind you as you shut your eyes with sweet relief. Somewhere towards the end of the hall, you hear shoes squeak against the wooden tiles. Lily waves, hair up in a similar ponytail as yours, as she smiles as warm as the weather that nearly cost you your life. “You made it!”

“We sure did,” you respond, gritting your teeth in order to prevent yourself from letting out some snarky remark. Not that she deserves it, of course she doesn’t, but you couldn’t help it. Pointing back towards the wooden door, you wince apologetically. “Sorry to barge in. Someone didn’t bother knocking.”

Lando makes a face, then turns to the blue eyed girl with a playful smile. “You don’t mind, do you, Lily?”

She shakes her head, pursuing her lips with delight. “Not at all. We left it open knowing you two would show up. We’ve been fixing the guest bedroom for the past hour and we didn’t want to run the risk of not hearing you knock, so…I guess it all worked out just fine.”

“See? Lily says it worked out just fine,” your boyfriend says smugly as you roll your eyes, not at all impressed with his sudden cockines. “Where is Oscar, by the way?”

Lily signals upstairs, then blushes. “Do you mind helping me grab a few things from the car, Lando?” A shy chuckle. “It’s just we went out for some party essentials last night, but we were too tired to bring them in, and the box is too heavy, and Oscar is pretty busy, and I’d hate to bother him, and—”

“Sure,” Lando cuts off her rambling. “That way I can grab our suitcases, too.”

“Fantastic,” she hoots, dusting her hands against her shorts as she grabs a set of car keys from the kitchen table. Turning to you, she grimaces. “Do you mind checking up on Oscar?”

Your plump lips part, a line of dehydration hung upon them. “I would, but I should help Lando—”

“It’s okay,” your boyfriend fills in. “I’ve got it all under control.”

Lily pleads silently, brows drawn in together. “You’d really be doing me a favor. It’s just that he was in the middle of fixing the duvet and he tends to run out of patience if he doesn’t get it right away.” A chuckle. “Please?”

Which is how you find yourself in a room, alone with the one person you probably shouldn’t be alone with, but find yourself wishing that were always the case. Alone with one another, that is. Gently knocking on the already open door feels like the right thing to do, so you do just that. Alerted by the sound, the Australian’s head jerks up, brown eyes caught against yours.

You tilt your head slightly, like some greet. “Lily sent me,” you find yourself explaining as he sighs, resting on the unmade bed. Leaning against the doorframe, you bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say next.

He huffs. “Of course she did.” A snort. “Sorry your room still isn’t ready. It's just that, I, uh…can't seem to get this right,” he admits, shyly scratching the back of his neck as he motions towards the unmade mess. “Lily always helps, but she’s a bit busy right now, and I'd hate to bother her, and—”

“I can help.”

A pause, then: “Oh, don't worry, you don't need to do that. You’re our guests.”

Chuckling, you shake your head, already making a move to grab the sheets. Taking hold of one corner, you signal for him to do the same, the Australian instantly catching on and taking hold of the opposite side. Aligning it, you look up at him, watching as he focuses on your hands and repeats the order. You smile, going for more and doing it all over again. Once it's perfectly laid out, you take a step back. “Not too shabby.”

“Huh,” he muttered, blinking with amazement. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you say, fixing the mountain of pillows before taking it in with a gentle smile. “Lando’s excited to be here.”

Oscar looks up, neat brows raising. “Is he?”

“Mhm,” you hum, finally connecting your gaze to his. From this distance—close—you note the faint trace of cologne that hugs him, along with a thin layer of sweat. Grinding your molars, you fume silently within you as you catch it—her perfume. You wonder how close she had to have been in order for it to imprint on him, but as soon as you ponder for too long about it, you shake your head, acting as if you’re brushing away some invisible dust. “He’s looking forward to jet skiing.”

A deep chuckle. Pressing his back against the wall, he crosses his arm, giving you a clear view of his muscles that pulse like the world's biggest temptation. If you had the chance—just one—you’d kiss them the way you've fantasized for so long now.

He opens his mouth, about to say something that's going to change everything amongst you two, but bails at the last minute, shaking his head as if he barely caught himself. Intrigued, you raise a neat brow. “What's wrong?” you ask, feeling far too curious. 

Oscar tsks. “No, uh, it's nothing.” A beat, then he looks up, squinting his eyes skeptically, as if you're a puzzle he can't quite figure out. He's looking at you the same way he did that day you lied about planning the dinner, and that itself makes your stomach dip. Suddenly, you're not as interested in finding out what he has to say anymore. “Lily loves you, you know that?”

Not what you were expecting. “She does?”

“Yeah…” he mumbles, orbs still trained on you. You want him to look away—you need him to look away. Pink lips curl into something of a scoff. The Australian’s eyes darken, making you freeze with trepidation. “She thinks you’re great.” Opening his arms like some grand gesture, he motions towards the lively room. “I mean, look at her. She’s trying her best to please you.”

Something about the way he says it makes you feel as if he’s not that fond of Lily’s behavior. As if you don’t deserve her kindness, even just a sprinkle of it. Pursing your lips, you rock against the heels of your feet. “And I appreciate that, I really do.” A hint of hesitation. “And I like Lily, as well—”

A raw chuckle. Blinking, you catch him shaking his head, brown eyes shut in disbelief, and when he opens them once again, it’s not that kind-hearted and easy-going Australian you’ve come to know—no. He’s broad, and cold, and guarded. 

“No you don’t.”

You gulp, laughing awkwardly as you rub your forearm, feeling the heat of shame radiate off your body. “What are you talking about? She’s super sweet—”

“I never said she wasn’t,” he cuts you off again, this time a bit harsher. Enough to take a step back. Your heart races times a million at this point, palms moist with sweat. “I never said she wasn’t sweet—I don’t doubt that even for a second. But I know that you’re lying, and I know that you hate her.” A beat. “Why?”

“I do like her,” you continue to insist, feeling claustrophobic all of a sudden. “What makes you even think otherwise?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her,” he says, accent sharper than usual. “Like you wish her the worst—I know what hate looks like.”

This time, you grab what’s left of your courage, and look at him straight in the eyes, not backing down. “Yeah? And what does hate look like?”

“You’re looking at it.”

It’s as if an ice cold bucket of water is thrown at you with no alert. His insinuation makes you want to recoil, but if you do, then he’d know he’s gotten to you, and if he gets to you, then he’ll figure the rest of it out. 

“I’m sorry, that was rude.” He smiles tauntingly, inching close and tilting his head as he opens his mouth. “I just don’t like you, that’s all. I’m not cruel enough to hate.” Cruel. He’s calling you cruel. He knows, therefore, you’re cruel. The word itself shouldn’t affect you this much, but it does. Narrowing your eyes, you push him away, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he cocks his head in question with little to no surprise. “What? You don’t like hearing the truth of what you are? Did you really think you were a good person?”

“Look,” you finally speak, glaring. “I don’t know what you think you’ve seen, but I don’t hate Lily. For God sakes, I barely even know her!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, breaking. “Which is why I’m more than confused! What has she done to you?”

Have possession over you, you think to yourself as you pant, blink with defeat. I hate her because what she’s done to me is have possession over you, and that’s not fair.

“I—”

“Hey,” a soft voice melts into the room, Lily coming into view, cheeks flushed. “Is everything alright in here? We thought we heard yelling.” 

Standing behind her, frowning over her shoulder, Lando stares with a lost expression. Everything indicates that there had been some sort of altercation, but the smiles you two wear are enough to try and convince them otherwise. Walking towards her, Oscar wraps his arm around her waist, pecking her temple as she blinks, still worried. “What? That’s absurd. We were simply talking. Weren’t we?”

It takes you a minute to register that he’s talking to you, so when you do answer, it’s nothing but a whisper. “Yeah… just, yeah.” You shake your head, blinking hastily. “We were just talking.”

“Are you sure?” Lando asks, pushing past the couple as he rushes to you, large hand grabbing your wrist softly as he looks at you. His gaze flickers momentarily toward Oscar, as if accusing him for doing something, in return, making the Australian frown for his sudden distrust. As if he’s the bad guy. 

You nod, plump lips formed into a thin line. “Yup,” you say, attention flickering down to where Oscar keeps Lily secure against his touch. As if you’re the bad guy. You chuckle, shrugging. “He was thanking me for helping him do something so easy as setting a bed.”

Oscar clenches his jaw. “Yeah. Thanking you.”

Anyone who knows you, knows that you’re a decent human being. There’s not much to contradict that. But no one will ever know you the way you know yourself. Because if they did?

They’d find out that there was no one greedier….

Than you.

-

Dinner that night is homemade pizza. Lily followed a recipe. 

It’s quite delicious, sure, and you’re able to make that note due to that one small bite you had before you ditch it for your mimosa. Lando tries to get you to eat, but you gently promise him that you’re just not that hungry. You see the way Oscar stares, feeling bad for his girlfriend who spent hours making this for you. She excuses herself, rushing towards the kitchen as the Australian apologizes, following after her.

Turning abruptly, the British boy huffs, causing commotion. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”

“This again?” you groan. “I already told you—nothing. Drop it.”

“What’d he say to you?” he questions, a layer of curiosity making an appearance. “Did he say something to offend you?”

“No,” you hum against your glass. “He did not.”

“Did you say something to offend him?” he switches the inquiry, making you glare. 

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

Lando sighs, relaxing against his chair once again. He takes a bite, swallows, then takes another. “I get the sense that you’re keeping something from me—you’re not like that.”

Actually, you are. He just doesn’t know it. Placing a hand over his, you hum, calming him down as he connects his gaze onto yours, eyes as soft as jello. “He might’ve lost his temper on me a bit.”

“What?” he screeches, making you hush him.

“Let me finish,” you hiss. He nods, curls bouncing. “He couldn’t get the sheets to stay in place. Remember how Lily said he tends to lose patience because of that?” Another nod. You shrug. “Well, that was it. We just didn’t want you two to make a big deal out of nothing. Much like now,” you point out, spotting a subtle blush threatening his cheeks. 

“Well, forgive me for looking out for you,” he sings. “I care, you know?”

“And I thank you for that, darling, but you can let go of it now, right?”

“Definitely.”

He doesn’t. Matter of fact, as soon as the couple makes their way back, it’s the first thing he brings up, teasing his teammate who blinks, confused, then: “Oh. Yeah. Right. I had a bit of a moment where I couldn’t get the…yeah. That was it.”

Lily rolls her blue eyes. “Didn’t I warn ya?”

You giggle. “You did, you really did.”

There isn’t much to do from that point on, the sun has set and the moon hangs as bright as headlights. Lando knocks out after a much needed shower, and while you can’t sleep with wet hair, you settle on fixing yourself up a tea now that it’s cooled down. 

Walking barefoot towards the lake, you hum, finding peace with the way crickets sing. Blue, gentle waves sway back and forth as you look beyond, mind at peace. That is until you hear a small cough. Startled, you search for the culprit and you find him, laid down on the grass. 

“Can’t sleep?”

Oscar sighs. “I’d rather not talk to you right now.”

“Or ever?” you offer, but he doesn’t find you humor all that entertaining. Making your way, you find a space next to him. “You can’t ignore me, you know that? We’re about to spend a month together. That, and you’re my boyfriend's teammate. I see you on track.”

He disregards the fact that you're right, sitting up instead, laying his arms over his bent knees. “What’s your game?”

“I don’t have one,” you say softly. “I’m just here to have fun—it’s summer.”

A scoff. “I’m serious—what do you want from us?”

There was a point in time when you first met the Australian where you remember thinking: this is a boy. His arms were twigs, his neck was small, and his fireproofs fit him loosely.

Fastword, a year later: everything has taken a turn. Oscar Piastri has matured, and now—now you want him. 

“My parents had my sister three years after they had me.” Oscar cocks his head, puzzled as to why you’re telling him this. You continue, occasionally sipping on your tea. “And the months leading to her birth, they always told me how lucky I’d feel to have her once she was born. Then she was,” you say. “And you know what I felt?”

“Lucky?” he finds himself guessing quietly. 

You shake your head, causing his brows to jump up with surprise. “I love her, I do, but I think that was the moment I realized I didn’t like to share. I wanted my parents to stay my parents, and not hers. I wanted my grandparents to stay my grandparents, and not hers. And…once we grew up and we were old enough to date—I wanted her boyfriends to like me more than they liked her.”

Quiet, his eyes linger with disgust. “I love knowing that I can get away with it—get what I want.” This time, you look at him, and it hits him all at once: you want him. You smile, like what you’re saying is funny and not fucked. A giggle. “You’re a smart individual, Oscar. Do you get what I’m saying?”

He does. And it makes his stomach knot. 

“I’m in love with Lily,” he states, as if that will make you back off. “I’m. In. Love. With. Lily.”

But he can tell you don’t care. You never have, and you never will. And the fact that she has you is why you hate her. He sees that now. 

Standing, your knees are at his eye level, forcing him to look away, forcing him to look up. You hold power in this stance, and he’s basically at your knees—worshiping you. He doesn’t like that. In one fast movement, he jumps up, towering over you, but that’s fine. It doesn’t matter. And he realizes he can never win when it comes to you because it seems you like that too. 

He gulps. You grin.

“Doesn't matter.”

-

You’re playing a dangerous game.

It starts early in the morning and ends late at night. At times, he feels like a kid hiding behind his mum's skirt, practically sticking to Lily like superglue, and normally she loves that, but with how busy she is with graduation, she pushes him off most times now. It’s always: Oscar, no or Oscar, what now? He can’t seem to get it right.

“Why don’t you go jet skiing with Lando?” you speak up and he finds it weird that you’re helping him out. The British girl nods. Yeah! Why don’t you? He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

They come back with fresh sunburns and a couple new freckles. Lando’s curls are hard from the sea salt, so he gives you a quick kiss, running up stairs for a quick shower. He’s been having lots of those. Not even a minute later, Oscar goes on to do the same. 

Somewhere along the line, you hear your name, and you know what that means. Rolling your eyes, you look over at the blue eyed girl. “I bet you he forgot his towels—”

I forgot my towels!

Giggling, Lily shakes her head, muttering ‘boys’, then signals towards her room. “I just washed some, you can grab them from our cabinet.”

“Thanks,” you chirp, making your way. While yours and Lando’s room sits at the far right side of the hall, Oscar’s and Lily’s is on the left. And you never meant to walk in on him, not at all, but you did. 

Swinging the door open, you’re caught face to face with a shirtless Oscar, dying his wet hair with a blue towel. He freezes. “W-what are you doing here?” he stutters.

You try not to stare, you really do, but you can’t help it. His body is solid, chiseled, even. His skin is moist from lathering lotion and that’s enough to make your head spin. And yet, you don’t let him see that. Pushing past him, you dig your hand deep into the cabinet, pulling two fresh towels, similar to his. He frowns.

“Just grabbing towels for my boyfriend.” Smile. “See you.”

Is this how you get people to fall for you? By not seeming desperate? Because while he knows that you want him, you sure don’t show it, and that definitely confuses him.

That same night, you four are watching a movie in the living room. Cherry Falls to be exact. The entire way through, you’re curled into Lando’s chest under a blanket. On the other side of the long couch, Lily and Oscar sit as straight as can be, but his arm remains over her shoulder, keeping her safe. 

You’re not jealous over something like that, but when she flinches during certain scenes and he comforts her, that gets you. “Hey,” you start, whispering into the Brit’s ear. Green eyes are stuck on the screen, nodding robotically. Yeah? You kiss his warm skin, making him jump. “Why don’t you and I go to bed?”

“Bed?” he asks, slow and unsure where you’re headed. “Already? But…we’re halfway through.” You yawn, rubbing a hand along his thigh. He blushes, impressed with how cool you’re able to play it. Coughing, he nods excitedly. “I think we’re done for the day,” he announces, a bit too loud.

Lily pauses the movie, tilting her head curiously. “Aw, but we’re halfway through…”

“I know,” you add, smiling apologetically. “But I’m just so tired.”

“As am I!” Lando cuts you off, voice squeaky. He shakes his head, blinking hastily, then clears his throat. “But please, don’t let us stop you from finishing the movie.”

“Yeah,” you quip, getting up, about to walk away when Lando reaches for your hips, keeping you in front of him. It doesn’t take much to feel his bulge pressed against your ass. He laughs awkwardly. “We still have that picnic tomorrow, don’t we?”

“We do,” Lily cheers, smiling widely. “Oh, I’m so excited!” Turning to face the Australian, who hasn’t said much up until now, just stares blankly, she taps his knee. “We should probably go to sleep, too.”

“No!” Lando yelps, blushing bright red as the blue eyed girl frowns. “Keep on watching. Keep the telly on. In fact…” He reaches for the control. “Turn up the volume.” 

“Great idea,” Lily says, pursing her lips as the numbers go up on the screen. “Alright then, you two go rest.”

“Thank you,” you reply, walking carefully in front of the British boy who still tries his best to hide behind you, waving sheepishly. “See you in the morning!”

Oscar really underestimated how naive Lily can be. While she was wide-eyed enough to believe that you two were ready to knock out, he knew the truth. Pecking her cheek, he makes a stand, making his girlfriend pout. “Where are you going? I thought we were gonna finish the movie?”

“We are,” he promises, smiling gently. “I’m just gonna run to the restroom real quick. Be right back.”

Running up the stairs, two steps at a time, he rushes to your side of the hall, quickly identifying small moans. He stops dead in his tracks, heart stuck in his throat, and he doesn’t know why. 

Fuck, baby, he hears Lando groan. Oscar grimaces, shutting his eyes with discomfort. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn’t have his ear pressed against the door, intruding in your guys’ private sex life. 

He shouldn't be bothered so much. Or at all.

Lando, you whine, surely writhing with pleasure. The sound makes him break a sweat, makes his brain go fuzzy. He can’t even think properly. And he knows this is wrong—on so many levels—but what’s worse is that he wishes Lando were dead. 

Skin to skin contact makes his jaw clench with anger. The fact that he knows what you feel like makes him want to barge in and rip you two apart. And it dawns on him—why does he care so much?

“No,” he mutters, taking a step back as if the door were made out of lava. He blinks hastily, shaking his head harshly until he feels his brain jump from side to side. “God, no…”

It’s official—you have his attention.

Without even making a move.

-

You feel his gaze on you. You don’t even have to look and see to know that it’s him and not Lando. Lando’s gaze doesn’t burn, but his? His zaps. Looking up from where you rested on the red gingham blanket Lily rolled onto the fresh grass, you squinted behind your glasses, making eye contact with the Australian. 

You know you have him.

Reaching into your bag, you grab your sunscreen, squirting it onto your legs, making sure to lather it on in a teasing manner. You rub up and down, slow and steady. Briskly, he looks away, paying attention to his teammate who continues to ramble on and on about nothing in particular. 

Not as particular as you.

“I love having you two around,” Lily says, ripping your gaze away like one would their band aid. She hums, gingerly fixing her floppy hat and motioning towards your sunscreen. Go right ahead. “Thank you,” she replies sweetly. A beat. “I have a favor to ask.” This get’s your attention. Furrowing your brows, you nod, urging her to continue. “So, I’m in a bit of a predicament.”

“What is it?”

Lily blushes, as if she’s too embarrassed to admit. “Remember how I skipped a few exams in order to extend my stay the first time we met? In order to have that dinner with both you and Lando?”

“Yeah,” you say, still uncertain about where this might possibly lead. “I think I do.”

She cringes. “I never took them.”

“What?”

“I know! And now my advisor is telling me I won’t be able to graduate if I don’t find a way to take them, and I don’t know what to do!” She groans, bumping the edge of her palm against her forehead. “Oh God, Oscar is going to be so mad at me.”

“Okay, calm down,” you soothe her. “Have you tried reaching out to your professor?”

“Not yet,” she mumbles, tears pooling the corner of her eyes, making you feel just a dash of pity. “Should I?”

“Yes,” you respond quickly. “You should. Ask them if there’s any way to take those exams. Say you’re sorry—like really sorry. They have to be able to tell that you never meant to skip out in the first place.”

“I didn’t,” she squeaks, voice wavering. “I’m not usually like this, but…” Her blue eyes flicker down to her lap, fingers playing nervously with the hem of her shirt. “I just really want to fix this and graduate on time. Everyone is counting on that!”

“You’re going to walk that stage, Lily, alright? You just need to keep your eye on the prize.” Sighing, you unlock your phone, handing it to her. “E-mail them right now.”

“O-okay,” she sutter, eyes softening. “Thank you for being such a great friend.”

You blink. “Oh. Yeah—anytime.”

She finds privacy back in the parking lot, leaving you alone with the boys deep in the horizon. It’s peak golden-hour, so they look significantly tan. You smile, lying back down, glasses hugging the curve of your nose. You’re halfway asleep at one point, but as soon as you feel a droplet fall onto you, you peek an eye open.

“Where’s Lily?” Oscar questions, furrowing his dark brows.

You roll your eyes. “She went to get something from the car.” She probably wouldn’t like Oscar knowing the truth, and you’re not one to tell it. You wave your hand dismissively. “Now move—you’re blocking the sun.”

Grinding his teeth, the Australian scoots, but his eyes remain down on you. You lay tan now, white bikini standing out against your skin. Brown eyes trails down your legs, spotting an ankle bracelet. He hums. “What’s it say?”

You sigh. “Could you be more specific?”

He kicks your feet, making you lean against your elbows, staring at him coldly. Noticing what he was referring to, you lick your lips. “It's the number four.”

“Four?” he asks plainly. “Why four?”

“I’m really trying to relax,” you spit, taking your sunglasses off and glaring. “You’d be doing me a huge favor if you just left me alone.”

Aren’t you supposed to want him? Aren’t you the one who's supposed to be chasing after him? 

The tips of his ears burn bright red, and not from the sun. Seeing as he wasn’t leaving, you let out a heavy breath. “He asked me out on April fourth—fourth month, fourth day. His racing number is four.” You make a face. “Do you get it or do you need further explanation?”

He ignores the dig. “Why an ankle bracelet, though? Why not a ring or a necklace?”

Your red lips part open, then close. His guts twist with jealousy once he comes to the realization. The reason it’s an ankle bracelet its so that anytime he fucks you, legs dangled over his shoulders, he could admire it. Seeing as he figured it out without having you respond makes you blush. 

“Ankle bracelets are my favorite.”

His eyes darken. “You know what? Next time you two fuck, why don’t you moan a little less loud?”

Your neat brows lift up with surprise. “How are you so sure we already did?”

He pauses, clearly caught on spying. He swallows. “You sound like a pornstar.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” You laugh. “Lando doesn’t seem to mind. In fact…” Biting down on your bottom lip, you blink innocently up at him as his breathing pattern becomes uneven. “He fucking loves it.”

God—what were you doing to him?

Just as he’s about to speak, Lando calls out for him and Lily calls out for you. Where are the beers, mate? The Australian spins back and lets out a lousy smile. “On it, give me a second!”

As he turns again, you’re already up on your feet, adjusting your bikini and throwing Lando’s shirt over your head. The sight alone irks Oscar more than he’d like to admit. “I should go see what Lily needs,” you sing teasingly. Spinning on your heels, you stop, cocking your head to the side and giving him one last glance. “Oh, and Oscar?”

You point down to his hard on imprinted on his short. Horrified, heat rushes to his cheeks.

“Don't get so excited over nothing.”

-

What appears to be the first time in her life, Lily lies to Oscar. 

They need some last minute measurements for my cap and gown, she explains, puffing her cheeks as if the thought of flying back home is too much of a tassel, and not a necessity—she has to go back and take her exams. She had received an extension, but the only catch was that she had to take them in person, as originally planned. I’ll be back in a week. 

The Australian tries to tag along with his girlfriend because the thought of being left alone to third wheel a couple who probably fucks 24/7 is too unbearble. But as expected, Lily declines, claiming it’d be rude for both hostesses to leave their guests behind. And all would’ve been fine if Lando’s father hadn't broken his clavicle playing rugby. 

“Do you really have to leave?” you sigh, zipping his suitcase. 

He nods. “Mum would kill me if I didn't show up.”

“I’ll miss you.”

A soft smile. Pecking your lips, his thumb rubs against your cheek lovingly. “I’ll be back before you know it. Time will fly by.”

Which is how you and Oscar find yourselves sharing a large house with a million desires. He's quick to note that you have a thing for summer dresses—and so does he, apparently. Jaw clenched, he carefully watches as you cut up a variety of fruit, humming as you prepare yourself a plate. You hum a soft melody, making him more and more intrigued to know what it was. 

“Love in the Morning. Ennio Morricone,” he hears you say, munching on a slice of watermelon, walking towards the living room. There, on T.V., plays an unknown reality show, but he's not paying much attention, either way. No, his gaze is stuck on you, focused on the way you stretch your legs onto the coffee table, the rest of your upper body resting against the comfy couch. You swallow, reaching for a piece of mango. “One of my favorite instrumentals.”

It's one of his, too, and not because he knows it by heart, but because you do. Because you sound so beautiful, like a siren, when you hum it. He wonders if you're aware of the power you hold. Though, the way you ignore him lets him know that you do. 

Against the sunlight, the one that peeks through the open window and summer skies, your ankle bracelet shines, blinding him, almost. He feels his chest grow tight—so much so, that it hurts to breathe regularly—and he has to remind himself that this isn’t normal—this isn’t normal. 

Since when did you matter this much to him? Since when did you affect him this much? 

Without a second thought, he claims a spot next to you on the couch, reaching for a berry and popping it in his mouth. You bite the inside of your cheek, somehow satisfied by this small action of his. “Tell me a bit about yourself.”

You blink, caught off guard. In all your time of knowing the Australian, he never once bothered to get to know you—really get to know you. He never cared, not even in the slightest. But now, in a turn of events, he does. Squinting suspiciously—teasingly—you shake your head, vanilla perfume radiating off your skin. 

“No.”

His lips turn downwards. “No?”

“No,” you repeat, flipping through the channels, pretending he wasn’t even there. A click. “Why should I?”

Because suddenly, you’re the only one in my mind.

He bites down on his tongue, tasting a hint of blood. “I’m not into you, don’t flatter yourself.”

“I never said you were,” you say, a bored tone evident. 

Oscar’s hands get clammy, thankful for having them pressed against his lap. Maybe he can still make a run for it. To his room. Back to Australia. He doesn’t even care where, exactly, but far, far, far from you. That way, he wouldn’t feel so grossed out in wanting to know more about his teammate's girlfriend. The one whom he never thought about once before this trip. And how can he even defend his honor?

You got into his head.

You don’t register what he’s doing—not instantly, at least—but before you know it, he’s pushing your legs off the coffee table, claiming a seat there, instead. Now, rather than having a clear view of the television, you have one of him. Large and desperate and perfect. 

He narrows his eyes, sharp and threatening. “Are you glad that both Lily and Lando are gone?”

“Nope,” you respond, popping the p. “Why would I?”

Why would you? Geez, who really knows? Oh, maybe because now you have me all to yourself, and isn’t that what you wanted all along? Why don’t you want me anymore? 

Slightly grinning, Oscar lets out a raw chuckle, making you want to jump onto his thick lap and lick up his neck. You bet it’d taste like salt and cologne, but the mere thought sounds like a dream. A wild, wild dream. 

“I know you think about me.”

Zero reaction. Unimpressed, you push your bottom lip out, wagging your index finger at him before pressing it against his cheek, making him pause because that alone makes his skin burn. You push, forcing a dimple before doing the last thing he’d ever thought you’d do.

Slap him.

He thinks he’s imagining it, and you didn’t just do that, but the smug look on your face and the sting on his lets him know that he isn’t picturing it, and you did just do that. You smile sweetly, standing and ditching your place right in front of him, making your way towards the stairs. 

“Get a life, Oscar. Not everything is about you.”

You like to mess with people’s sanity. That must be it because—what the fuck is wrong with you?

First, you insinuate lusting over him. Later, you put on a show for him every chance you get. And now? Now you toy with him, making him feel like the crazy one. And one thing’s for sure.

He is not crazy.

You barely have a foot up one stair when you’re pulled back, and before you know it, pushed down to sit on the step, the Australian kneeled down in front of you. You breath hitches, eyes as wide as cherry pies. His brows are drawn in softly, a pink tint dusting his ears like some shy teen. 

“Maybe not—but everything is about you.”

You always knew you’d get him, and you knew exactly how you’d do it. You’d plant the seed and have him come running to you. It always works. I mean, it’s how you got Lando, after all. 

But Lando was a want. Oscar is a need.

With his knees still glued onto the ground, the brunette leans down and kisses your ankle, laying his lips flat as you gasp softly, feeling the familiar bracelet dig into your skin. 

“Tell me you think about me too,” he whispers pathetically—fragile. Another kiss, this time up your calf. “What do I have to do in order to get you to say it?” 

“You’re insane,” you mumble, orbs stuck on the top of his head, shaggy hair hanging loosely before he looks up at you, past his lashes. Butterflies erupt. 

Up your thigh, he licks you, tasting your lotion, but he doesn’t seem to mind the bitter taste. “Come on—I want you.” He sucks, forming a purple bruise. “Don’t you want me, too?”

You do. You fucking crave every piece of him. But you can’t let him know that. And you really do try your best to fight him off, but as soon as he starts curling his fist around your small dress, you’re just as good as gone. 

A tiny moan rings through the air, then a pant follows. He’s barely even touched you and he’s already knocked the air straight from your lungs. 

“I d-do, Oscar.” Whine. “I do want you.”

And just like that—he’s taken whatever power you were claiming onto—back.

Letting go of your dress, he chuckles, enjoying your out of breath state, and standing, making you feel small as you blink, confused as to why he stopped.

Dark eyes glint sinisterly as he kicks your open legs together, not too hard, but still enough to make you jolt with surprise, leaning your elbows up against the step, brows furrowed. 

A beat. “You really are a pretty little thing.”

And with that, he walks away, leaving you to feel abandoned.

-

It’s a brutal game of tug-of-war. One where both of your guys’ hands are burning from trying not to be the first to let go.

The first to admit defeat.

Though, it seems like the days grow longer, your dresses fall shorter, and his mind is hazier. All of which is making it more difficult to keep a distance. That is, until Lily FaceTimes Oscar.

“I need to buy some flowers.”

Mid-bite, his teeth push down on his apple, eyes glued on her. He pulls away, drying his mouth with the back of his hand. “Won’t they dry out before the party?”

She shakes her head, highlighting what looks to be a set of notes. “That's why you're going to get carnations. They last longer.”

“Is that so?” he entertains, smiling gently when she bites down on her marker, brows furrowed as she reads her piece of paper. Throwing away what's left of his fruit, he hums. “Alright, I’ll take care of it tomorrow, don't worry.”

“Oh no, tomorrow won’t work. You have to do it today.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“Because she's only available today. She's going dress shopping tomorrow.”

He doesn't even have to ask who she is because he already knows. Shaking his head adamantly, the Australian rejects her idea before it even has a chance to lift off the ground. “I could do it myself,” he snaps, his usually tranquilent voice coming out a bit harsher than intended. And it’s not like him. He never, ever, speaks to Lily this way. So, obviously, it surprises her, a wounded expression mapping out immediately. 

And she could have been mad. She really could have been mad—but she wasn’t. “Is everything okay?” she asks carefully, as if walking on eggshells. It makes him feel like shit. “What's wrong, Oscar?”

“I…” His tongue goes numb. The vivid image of you looking at him, like you hold him in the palm of your hand, comes through. And he doesn’t completely hate it, not right away. But once the British girl hums softly through the phone, he’s ashamed. “I just wish you were here. I miss you.”

A beat, then: I love you.

You had not been the biggest fan of going floral shopping with Oscar, either. Quite frankly, you didn't think being with him for hours on end was a good idea. At least, here in the house, you could escape, but out in the open, your chances were ironically not that good. Where would you run off to if you depended on him for a ride back?

Yet, you found yourself saying yes, and you didn’t know why. You had no clue why you felt the need to help her out. You had no clue why you felt a certain way towards her all of sudden. 

You had no clue when Lily Zneimer—the girl you're supposed to hate—was someone you saw as a friend.

It was a tough pill to swallow, because on one hand, you were still attracted to her boyfriend. But on the other hand, you suddenly had self-control. You didn't want to ruin their relationship anymore. You didn't want to lose her amity. 

You were trying to be better.

“Ready?”

Looking up from your book, you nod. “Let me just go grab my sunglasses.”

As he watches you run upstairs, he feels something—different. From your end, that is. As if something has shifted. But he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it, because before he knows it, you’re back. 

The car is quiet and his music can barely even be heard, but nothing is far more awkward than the tension between you two. It’s suffocating, so much so, you roll down the window. He makes a noise, making you tilt your head to look at him. He’s frowning. “It’s a hundred degree’s out, roll it back up. I can turn on the AC.”

You don’t utter a single word, just follow his instructions. He finds that weird. See, usually, you’d be doing something to get him hot and bothered, but these days you seem to be playing it safe. If anything, he should be thankful. He should be glad that you’ve left him alone for whatever reason. 

But now he wants in on your game.

“How’d you meet Lando?”

“Don’t. We don’t have to talk.”

He ignores you. “I met Lily in school. She was in the class next to mine and I used to think she was the most beautiful girl in the world.” His mind panics as soon as he realizes what he’s just said, but you don’t seem to have done the same. A cough. “How’d you meet Lando?”

Seeing as he probably wasn’t going to let this go unless you answer his question, you sigh, twisting your body and adjusting yourself to have a good view of him. Like this, you can count every mole on his skin if you really wanted to, but you don’t. “I never really met Lando, per se. I just always…knew him, I guess.” His brows furrowed and you chuckle. “We grew up as neighbors.”

“You did?” he asks, brows jumping up with shock. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, chewing on your bottom lip. “He was my sister’s boyfriend for two years.” This shouldn’t surprise him. Coming to a red light, he turns to look at you, fighting the urge to show any kind of reaction, he doesn’t want to scare you off. You look away, wincing. “I knew what I was ruining the moment he and I started talking behind her back, and I did it anyway.” 

“So…they were still dating?”

Nod. “She caught us locked up in the bathroom. There really wasn’t any explanation to that.” Green flashes as you point numbly and he steps on the gas once again. “And you know what? I didn’t even feel all that bad, and you want to know why?”

“Why?” 

“Because I got what I wanted.”

I love knowing that I can get away with it—get what I want, that is.

Your words from nights ago replay inside his overly crowded mind, making it pound like a sore thumb. His lips open, but he has nothing to say, and it appears you’re done talking, too. Or so he thought. 

“Oscar…” you whisper. “I can’t taint another relationship.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, jaw slacked. You don’t want him anymore. You want nothing to do with him. Shouldn’t he be pleased? Shouldn’t he be ecstatic that your diabolical plan has expired? One you never admitted to, but still. 

So then why does he feel let down?

“Lily is great,” you continue, eyes closed as you nod gingerly. “She’s the best, and she deserves the friend she thinks she has.”

“Except you two aren’t friends.”

You blink. “Wh-wha—yes we are. What are you talking about?”

He grits his teeth. “You two aren’t friends. You could never be.”

This gets a rise out of you. Straightening your back, your brows pinch together with offense. “And why not?”

“Because.”

“Because?” You scoff, not impressed by his bland response. “We can’t be friends simply ‘because’?”

Switching lanes, he huffs, spotting pink carnations in his rear view mirror. You had chosen those on Lily’s behalf. He didn’t really care at the moment, but now he wishes you had gone with white. What were you two arguing about again? 

Spotting the familiar blue house, he lets out a breath, pulling into the driveway, quickly putting the car in park, and turning off the ignition. This almost makes you back down because suddenly his sole focus is on you, not the road. 

“You’re on my mind.”

Oh. Biting down onto your bottom lip, you shake your head. “I’m n—”

“Yes,” he says, firmly, reaching for your hands and pulling them up to his mouth, kissing them over and over. “You are and you know it.”

“Oscar, no…” you let out, trying to pull away, but his grip tightens. A crazed look colors his irises as his chest rises fast, up and down, as if he’s close to hyperventilating. Bewildered, your lips turn to a downward spiral. “You don’t know what you’re saying—”

“Yes, I do!” he yelps, voice cracking as you stare with shock. “You did this to me, you got in my head on purpose!”

“I didn’t do anything!” you squeal, frightened by his tone. “Did I tell you that I wanted you?”

“You implied it,” he defends rapidly, pleading with eyes for you to show any signs of recollection. “What changed?”

“I already told you,” you snap, this time using all your power to yank your hands back. “I don’t want to be this way anymore. I can’t.”

Silence. 

Slow breaths explore the car as he stares blankly. “That’s not fair.”

“What isn’t fair?” you hiss, aiming a glare. 

Oscar shakes his head, flinging his door open and hopping out, leaving you dumbfounded as you watch him go. Unbuckling yourself, you make a beeline for him, barely even reaching him as you tug on his shirt, making him turn back with a dark look in his eyes. Your heart nearly flat lines from how scared you are of him from this point of view. 

“What isn’t fair, huh?” you ask, trying to sound brave, but there’s a slight tremble in your voice. 

Glowering down on you, the Australian’s lips form a slow smile, almost in a sinister way. Mocking, too. He chuckles to himself. “You like to have your own fun, don’t you?” Your shoulders drop, taking a clumsy step back, but he takes a dominating one forward. “Yeah…you do. You get to knead your fingers into someone’s brain until all they can think about is you, and once they do, you’re out.” Pause. “It’s no longer fun.”

“That’s not—” You let out a shaky breath, wincing at his accuracy.  “Where are you going with this?”

Oscar shrugs, broad shoulders going up before falling sourly. “I’m gonna do the same.”

You freeze, stomach twisting with trepidation. “Huh?”

He nods, clicking his tongue. “How come you only get to have your fun?” He leans down, coming eye level with you, and narrowing his gaze until you see his iris dilate. Something about that sends a shiver down your spine. “Why can’t I do the same, too?”

Taking a step back, he makes sure to send a sly smile, the kind that lets you see he has a hidden dimple. He sighs as he steps into the house, forcing you to watch him go with a smug reaction and leaving you with a poor one. Last minute, he turns around, inclining against the doorframe, making him appear larger than the world. 

Oscar squints teasingly. 

“I’m going to have you begging me to fuck you.”

-

There was a moment in the past week where you nearly fell for it—almost. 

It happened one morning, and all he had done was walk into the house, all big and sweaty. He had just come back from a run.

“Excuse me,” he says, reaching over to grab a glass from the cabinet, intending to pour himself a bit of water. A certain warmth radiates off him and you feel it cling onto you immediately, pushing you towards him. You physically have to stop yourself. 

Pursing your lips, you move, allowing him to easily grab what he needs. Without a single thank you, he hums, the cool water tasting heavenly. The way his Adam’s Apple juts up and down makes you want to scream, looking away as rub your eyes fiercely. He smiles, setting the glass down. “I need your opinion on something.”

“What is it?” you ask, still not looking. Maybe you should leave to go buy your dress for the party. Time is running out, and you have nothing. Though, at this point, you didn't want to be here anymore. 

“It's about Lily’s graduation gift. Should I get her a necklace with her birthstone, or—” 

An ankle bracelet with my number on it?

Immediately, you turn to face him, cheekbones beet red and a slight twitch in your eyes, those that are now dark and looming. Satisfaction plays a role in his features as he stares innocently. “I was leaning towards the ankle bracelet. I really do think you and Lando are onto something.”

“What’s your game?” you ask, bitterness evident in your tone. Your question takes him back to when he was the one asking it. To you. Neat brows furrow with anticipation.

The brunette shrugs. “I don't have one. I'm just here to have fun.” He smirks. “It's summer—isn't it?”

This is all a bad case of deja vu, one you don't find appealing. How dare he ask you something like this with a dirty smile on his face? The look is just the right amount of disgusting, and the right amount of intriguing. 

He was getting to you.

Clicking your tongue, you roll your eyes. “Whatever your plan is—stop it.” Pointing a finger, you shake your head firmly. “Because it's not going to work on me.”

“It’s not?” he asks, closing the gap and towering over you dangerously so. He sees the way your breathing becomes a tad bit irregular, letting him know that this was working, no matter how much you denied it. “Because you’re a better friend now? Because you got one taste of loyalty and now you've decided to be loyal to yourself?” A large hand reaches for your chin, forcing your head to tilt back and look up at him. And you hate how handsome he is in an infuriating moment like this. “People don't change overnight. I doubt you'd be the first.”

Old habits die hard, but over time, and he's right. You're still the same avaricious girl as yesterday. 

Pushing his thumb against the corner of your lips, you instinctively open your mouth, making room. A soft smile tugs at his own lips as his eyes admire your lipstick coating his finger. Slowly, he eases the digit in, feeling your wet tongue hug it. And then, suck.

“Fuck,” he groans beneath his shaggy breath, brown orbs not wanting to miss a single second of this. Humming, your vibrations send a chill down his spine, finding it harder to not bend you over amd just fuck you into oblivion. But no—he had to hear you say it. 

Pink tongue laps around his thumb, doe eyes blinking prettily, lashes fluttering like butterflies. Instant jealousy enters the room as his mind begins to race with the fact that Lando has probably had you like this millions of times. He pushes down on your tongue, making you whine and bite down. And he doesn't even flinch.

“Tell me you want me…” His brows knit with need. “The same way I want you. Please, just—say it.”

Without warning, you bite down hard, this time getting a reaction out of him as he grunts with pain, and you push him away harshly until his back pounds against the nearest wall, letting out a loud thud. 

“Let me tell you one thing, Oscar,” you start, strolling over to him like a fallen angel. Today you wear a white dress, clung to your body like a glove, allowing him to see every curve of yours, in return, making his palms sweat. You grin, reaching him. “You won't ever see me begging for anyone—especially you.” His stomach drops. “No matter how much I want this to happen, too.”

Are you willing to get down on your knees and supplicate?

The answer is an obvious one for him: yes. He’d spend hours at your feet if that meant having you, for even just a second. Normally, he isn't this submissive, nor this desperate, but it seems like only you bring this side out of him. He doesn't entirely hate it.

“Ye—”

Ring! Ring!

Sighing, you walk up to your phone that sits on the nearest counter, and pick it up. “Hi, baby,” you greet sweetly. “How’s Adam?”

Ring! Ring!

Digging into his back pocket, he curses, picking up. “Hello, darling,” he says warmly, making you flicker your gaze over at him with accusation. “How’s everything going?”

Turns out, Adam’s bone wasn't actually broken and Lily had aced her exams. She ended up telling Oscar the truth, to which he was surprised she had kept it hidden from him for so long, but was far more surprised when she told him that you knew. Long story short, by some twist of fate, they’ll be back in the next couple of days. They land on the same day, so they’ll save the Australian the hassle and just drive in together. 

“See you in a couple of days. Alright. Bye,” you say, rubbing your temples. 

Oscar looks up, chewing the inside of his cheek before letting go. “I’ll see you, then. Fly safe.”

A moment passes by. “Did she tell you—”

“That they’re flying in together? Yeah. They were both in London, after all. It makes sense.”

“Sure,” you mumble, brushing a strand of hair away. “They land Wednesday, then?”

“Correct,” he says, nodding along. It’s already Monday, so that was…soon. 

Too soon.

“I should probably start fixing up the arrangements,” you announce. “Lily asked me a couple of days ago, but I haven't gotten around to it. I just pray they haven't died yet.”

“They haven't,” he states, making you curl a brow. He smiles sheepishly. “Carnations last longer. Lily said so.”

“Of course,” you say, grinding your teeth. “Lily said so, so it must be true.”

Nothing more, nothing less. You just walk towards the flowers, and feel the irritation paint your silhouette, because as expected, Lily was right—like always. 

Thing is, Oscar has come to learn your behavior. The way you tell a lie, the way you tell the truth. He's learned your body language, and right now, he can tell one thing for sure.

You never stopped hating Lily.

He smiles.

And that makes him happy. Because he knows this isn't over yet.

-

By Tuesday, the entire setup is ready. The flowers sit beautifully at every table, and the lights hang nicely around the trees. The sound of the lake singing is your only reminder that you could use a break. And apparently, it was also Oscar’s.

“The event decorators just left. But you did an excellent job with the florals,” he adds last minute.

A hum. “I tried my best.”

The dock creaks. The frog's ribbit. The crickets harmonize. And you two are too close to one another. Your shoulders brush, making you flinch and for him to cough awkwardly. “Despite everything, I had fun having you around. A summer well spent, don't you think?”

With a deadpan expression, you turn to look at him, making him laugh, and the corners of your lips fight back a smile. You haven't heard him laugh in so long, you come to realize. In all sincerity, that is. “It was alright,” you respond, shrugging it off as if nothing. “But yeah. I had fun, too.”

Fun teasing each other. Fun trying to get each other to crack. But fun, nonetheless.

And he thinks: if not now, when? You don't know at what moment he catches you off guard, but he does, because in a single second, he's kissing with urgency. Like he's never kissed anyone before and he was making sure to get it right. And it was more than right. Heat pools in between your legs as you try your best to keep up with him, but the taste of cheap beer makes you get high on life. Since when is he much of a drinker?

Since you.

The good thing is that the entrance back to the house isn't that far, so your guys’ tumble is pretty successful. Though, you don't make it to either’ bedroom, but rather the couch, where a bunch of disposables lay. Lily had them shipped a couple days ago. Says she wants as many pictures as possible, savor the memories for a lifetime.

Without any precaution, he wipes his arms across the cushion, sending the cameras to crash against the floor and throwing you onto the couch, smiling once you squeal with excitement. All except one camera—but neither of you notice that yet.

Your soft hair lays around you like a halo, making him wonder if he’s gone straight to heaven. You gesture him to come in closer, and he’s quick to obey, diving for your neck. You giggle, a lazy hand finding its way into his locks. “No marks,” you pant, squirming as he licks a line down your throat before going up towards your lips. 

“No marks,” he confirms. “On your neck.”

You pause momentarily, disattaching your mouth from his. “No marks anywhere.” He grins, nodding just because. You frown. “I’m serious, Oscar.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles. “Sure.”

Then, he’s on his knees, kissing your ankle like that one time on the stairs, except now, he’s taking it nice and slow. Steady. Your mind grows dizzy as he grazes his fingers gently down your skin. It sends goosebumps, seeing him like this. So…submissive.

“I never wanted you,” he whispers as he presses his pink lips onto your left ankle this time. He hums. “You were just another girl to me. My teammate’s girlfriend—that’s it.” Another kiss. “You never crossed my mind, not even once.”

And now…

Making his way up, he kisses in between your thighs, nuzzling into your warmth. You let out a weak moan, chest rising raggedly. Playing with his earlobe, you massage it gently as you try your best not to ruin this moment. Though it seems like nothing could. Not when he’s devoted to it already. And so were you.

Feeling a slight burn, you furrow your brows as you spot him sucking gently against your inner thighs. You squirm, pushing his head away as he keeps his position. “I said no marks.”

And you actually feel his smile start to spread against your skin.

“He won’t see these, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Another suck, this time harder. “Well…unless you want him to. Then that’s your decision.” Looking past his lashes, he bites down on the flesh, making you flinch. “So what? Are you gonna let him see how someone else has fucked you while he was gone?”

Pulling your panties to the side, he dips his tongue into your pussy, making your hips fly off the couch, and for him to push them back down, holding you in place. Sloppily, he kisses it—practically making out—and groans like a madman with the way you taste. Your sweet nectar makes his cock grow hard instantaneously, and he can’t help but grind against the edge of the cushion where your legs hang. 

“Holy.” Whine. “Fucking.” Moan. “Shit.” Groan.

Twisting with an obscene amount of pleasure, you tangle a shaky hand through his hair, ignoring how soft it feels. The need to run away and stay is a confusing pattern, but as soon as he adds a finger, curling it just the right amount, you let out a high pitched moan. 

Just like that, Oscar, just like t-that. 

Adding another digit, he picks up the pace of his tongue, drawing figure eights as the knot in your stomach burns brutally. You feel a white cloud surface over your eyes as they close, screwed shut as if that might help you last longer. But he knows what your body needs, and that itself was an alarming thing to realize. 

With one last mewl, you finish all over his tongue as he licks you clean, not wasting a single drop. And the way you taste—makes him not want to go back to not knowing. With a smile filled with bliss, and that familiar afterglow, you giggle, nose scrunching like a bunny as your cheeks remain as red as a rose. The sight alone makes him struggle to comprehend that this is most likely a one time thing, and not something he’ll be able to relieve whenever he wants. 

At the end of the day—you're not his.

But he can still reminisce about this moment from time to time.

Mid-giggle, a flash goes through as you come to a stop. Oscar grins, shaking the green disposable, showing it off. “Beautiful. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Your breath hitches, his words tugging at your heart strings. You haven't experienced something like that in so long. Shaking your head, you push your dress down, climbing off the couch and pushing him to sit. “I like to play fair.” Sliding down to your wobbly knees, you shoot a gentle smirk, something that makes his cock grow painfully harder. “Let me take care of you, Oscar.”

Undoing his belt, you hurriedly unzip his jeans, fighting the urge to take him completely. You don’t, though. No, you first kiss the tip, making him groan, feeling as if pushing you head down is a good idea. Then, you suck at a comfortable speed, like a baby sucking their thumb, and watch past your lashes how his chest begins to rise slowly. 

“You’re huge,” you hum, pecking it. “How am I gonna fit you into my small mouth?” 

Moaning, the brunette drags a hand over his tired expression, faking a smile. “You’re saying you can’t?”

You suck harder, still treating it like a lollipop. Licking his tip like a kitten licks their bowl clean. It’s starting to cut his patience thin. “I can figure it out…”

I’ve done it with Lando. How much harder can this be?

That’s it. Pushing the back of your head, he forces you to deepthroat him, keeping you in place as you drool on either side of his lap, soft gurgles coming through. You try to push off him, but it seems like that makes him shove you down twice as hard.

“Something to say, baby?” he pants under his breath, raising a brow. “What was that?”

Slapping his thigh, tapping out, you find yourself being pulled off of him, dragged onto his lap as in one swift movement, he pushes your panties to the side once again and thrusts his thick cock deep inside of you. So much happens so fast that you barely have a chance to adjust to his girth. 

“Does Lando make you feel half as much as I make you feel?”

He’s not talking about sex. It hasn’t been about sex for a while now. 

Moaning, you bounce up and down, your hair hanging like a curtain as you give your best to keep up with him and his rhythm. But he practically controls you, snapping his hips up with anger. At least, that’s what it feels like. 

“Does he make you feel good?”

“Yes,” you sigh against his ear as you clutch an arm around his shoulder, keeping as steady as possible. “He does.”

But you make me feel better. 

The sound of your praise does something to him, something inexplicable. And while he can’t quite put a name to it, he does know that you’re telling the truth. You had to be. 

Again, pulling you off his swollen cock, he flips you around, having you use him as a chair as he squeezes his girth into your tight pussy, strong arms looping under your legs and spreading them open as he abuses your cunt, feeling your head fall back as you gasp. 

“F-fuck,” you shriek, head bopping with each thrust, and your throat growing dry. “Fuck me—fuck me.”

“I’m trying,” he chuckles, continuing as you try your best to understand how he was able to learn that he knew how to do all this. “Look at you. Just…look at you.”

There comes a time of life where someone is meant for you, and you’ll find your way to each other, no matter what. He’d like to think that it’s true. Sure. It is. But have you ever thought that maybe it’s not? 

Maybe the person you think you’re supposed to be with is busy thinking the same thing as you? Living a full life with someone else who isn’t their soulmate? Romantically, that is. 

Lando and Lily. They’re both place holders. They’re nice, yeah, and they’re amazing, too—but that’s about it.

You hold his entire destiny. 

He just wants to live by it. 

But the way he has you—it’s temporary. And nothing good ever lasts forever. But God, he really fucking wishes it did. 

Close, he hears you whisper, followed by a squeal as he holds your legs up higher, still fucking you in the same position. So, so close. 

“Not. Yet.”

Hauling you off, you’re quick to whine, feeling empty as he spreads you onto the couch, admiring your glistening lips. He presses a thumb down against your bud, feeling the pulse that enlightens him to smile. You copy him, toying with your dress. 

“Should I—”

“Keep it,” he says firmly. A beat. “Please. Keep it.”

When you nod, your hair only gets tangled against the cushion, but that’s the least of your worries. You frown. “You haven’t cum yet…”

“I will, don’t worry.” Silence. Pushing this thumb inside, you squirm, wincing slightly as your eyes remain on him, waiting for his next move. “Open.”

Opening your legs wider, he chuckles, shaking his head. Your mouth. You gulp, then open wide as he hums, bringing his wet finger into your mouth, making you taste yourselves. And normally, you’d be grossed out. God, you don’t let Lando even do this, but something about Oscar makes you feel okay. That, and like a pathetic freak. 

“Good, no?” It’s an awkward thing to ask, you can’t help but blush against his digit, lashes fluttering. The Australian tsks, pressing his large finger against your tongue as your eyes grow wide. “Right?”

In a heartbeat, you nod because it just felt like the right thing to do. Satisfied, he smiles, taking another photo of this beautiful sight. Your eyes are round and full of life, and slightly teary, and that’s what he likes to see. 

Retracting his thumb, he smirks. He makes room for both of you on this small couch, towering over you and he starts raising both your legs over your shoulders. Your stomach twists. 

“I wanna see it when I fuck you.”

With your dresses scrunched up, and his cock cutting you in half, you both moan in sync as the wet sounds echo through the hall of the empty house. And this wouldn’t have happened—probably ever—if you hadn’t accepted their invitation to spend the summer in North fucking Carolina. 

The number four dangles, and not only is the sounder a reminder that it’s there, but he can spot it from his peripheral vision every time he pounds into you a little harder. And he should be jealous—God knows that’s true—but surprisingly, he’s not. 

Because he’s heard the way Lando fucks you. And nothing—nothing—compares to now. 

It feels as if he’s practiced moves like this for a lifetime. As if he were to promise you that this could all work out, then you’d believe him.

You really would.

A sloppy thrust. “I never wanted you to begin with,” he grunts, screwing his eyes shut as your body reacts to his harsh confession. “I saw you with Lando, and I felt absolutely nothing. I had Lily to focus on. But God—what have you done to me?”

His tip seems to find your g-spot as you cry out, withering around. “I was taught to respect others. To respect what’s theirs. Whether that be a journal, or a remote control car, it didn’t matter. But you do,” he confesses, watching as you continue to whimper, probably not catching any of this anymore. “You did this to me…”

You filled me with greed.

Grabbing your ankles, he lurches them over his left shoulder as he continues to pound into your tight cunt, hearing you gasp before erupting into a string of moans. 

“Now, everything he has, I want.” You whine. “I’m going after his Championship.” You whine louder, eyes opening as you watch a bead of sweat roll down his nose. “I’m going after his team.” 

Oscar chuckles darkly. “And I’d love to say that I’m going after you, but hey…looks like I already have you.”

And just like that, the pit in your stomach bursts as you two clash against one another, your orgasms riding out together as your legs finally fall, but not before he makes sure to press a gentle kiss. 

A flash. 

“Really?” you ask, glaring. 

“Stick your tongue out.”

Without any questions, where you lay, you open your mouth, watching as he stands up to tower over you, jerking his cock one last time as his drops of cum fall against your tongue, white and thick. 

Your eyes flicker with excitement as he makes sure to take a picture. If he can’t have you later, or probably ever again, then he’ll make sure that he gets an angle of you that only he could ever dream of years down the line. 

Pulling his pants back up, he makes sure to clean you up before making you sit, him only a few inches away, but honestly, it feels like miles. All of a sudden, he’s distant, which shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it does. 

Biting down onto your wobbly lip, you comb your fingers through your hair—you’re doing your own after care. 

“I know things with us won't ever be the same, but…” You wince. “Please don’t treat Lando any differently. He sees you as a brother.”

He flinches because he knows it's true. Of course it is, everybody knows it. Oscar nods in agreement. “Only if you promise to stop hating Lily.”

You snort. “Sure. Sounds fair.”

The sound of tires is what ultimately gets your two to spring up, rushing towards the window as you look onto the driveway. Laughing, you first see Lily, then Lando, then you frantically twist your heels to face the Australian who remains with a blank expression, clearly not expecting them. 

“They were supposed to be here tomorrow, you said!” you hiss, rubbing your temples. “What the fuck?”

“They must’ve upgraded their tickets to get here sooner,” he shoots back, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He grimaces. “Hurry! Help me pick up the disposables from the floor!”

“Right!” you screech, running toward the living room as you fall onto your knees, picking up the cameras and tossing them back onto the couch. Oscar does the same, but with his eyes stuck in the door, waiting for a knock. 

Knock! Knock!

Freezing, you two look at each other, as if debating whether to make a run for it together or not. Though, as soon as you hear Lando call out for you, you’re sure you have no chance. Taking one last glance at the pile of cameras, you huff, skipping towards the door, fixing your knot up hair as best as possible. 

“Hey!” you greet, nearly over exaggerating, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he beams, grinning from ear to ear. Lando pecks your lips, lingering for a moment, making your heart drop. Because he can’t know—can he? Distancing himself, he wears a subtle frown, sort of there, sort of not, so you’re quick to smile. “I’m so happy you’re back.” You turn to face Lily, who’s stayed in the background, letting you have your moment. “That you’re both back.”

“It's nice seeing you, too,” she says before her eyes wander to a place behind you. Suddenly, her eyes twinkle as she grins at Oscar who comes closer with lips drawn into a firm line. “Look who just woke up from a nap.” Kissing his cheek swiftly, she tippy toes, fixing his messy hair into a neat comb over. “You look as if you got into some kind of bar fight.”

“Yeah,” Lando hums, looking over at you with dark eyes. “It sort of does…”

“We were fixing the outside tables—”

“We were fixing the floral arrangements—”

Lily and Lando quirk a glance at each other, then back towards you and Oscar whose faces are flushed. Oscar coughs, scratching the back of his neck. “Why don’t you guys come and check it out?”

“Yes, please!” Lily squeals, already making her way out the door, the Australian not that far behind. 

Sighing, you go on to follow as well, but there’s this hold on your wrist that just won’t let go. You spin, staring at Lando who clenches his jaw.

“Did you fuck him?”

You flinch. “No—I didn’t.”

Blue eyes fill with warning as he nods, silently thinking to himself before rubbing his chin harshly. “Don’t lie to me. I know what you’re capable of.”

This physically makes you feel sick, ashamed that he knows you for being a lying cheater. “You’re one to talk,” you shoot back, wishing to take it back as soon as it comes out. He raises a brow, clearly surprised. You gulp. “You’re capable of doing the same thing as me, aren’t you? Isn’t that why we’re together?”

“We’re together because I love you.”

“Yeah, well, I love you, too. I’ve literally given up the relationship I had with my sister—for you.” Taking his hands into yours, you knit your brows together softly, and just like that, he melts. “I love you, Lando. There's no need for anyone else.”

Looking past the clear window, Oscar stares at you and the Brit, who share a hug, taking occasional loving pecks as if nothing else matters. 

As if his feelings aren't worth anything. 

“I love it,” Lily says, ripping his gaze from getting hurt any further. Because that’s what this has all led to —him getting hurt. She grins happily, making her way closer. “I really appreciate you two working on this together, it all looks so wonderful.”

Guilt makes his tongue trip as he tries to say something, but when all fails, he settles with a warm smile, pulling her against his chest, kissing the top of her head. “I’d do anything for you, Lily Zneimer.”

With your head resting on Lando’s shoulders, you look out to where the couple stand, in the same embrace. This makes your eyes sting, which is silly because—why do you feel so invalidated? 

Despite being so far apart, you and Oscar are still able to connect, looking at each other with a certain yearning. This is not what this was supposed to be. The Australian would have never dreamt of any other girl that wasn’t Lily, so what happened? 

“I love you,” Lando mumbles, securing his hold on you.

“I love you,” Lily mumbles, face pressed against his heart, feeling it thump fiercely. 

You spare Oscar a smile, and Oscar spares you the same. And neither of you two can bring yourselves to lie.

So, instead, neither of you say it back.

-

It all comes crashing down on you one Sunday morning. 

By now, Lily has graduated, summer is over, and you’re back in Monaco. And for some reason, Lando offered to help get Lily’s picture’s developed. He knew a guy who’d get him a nice discount, apparently. Film is expensive as it is, so of course the British girl accepted. 

You’re sitting outside on the balcony. It’s windy today, and you should probably go back inside, but the ocean looks particularly blue today, so you decide to stay. 

Curling yourself tighter with your blanket, you sigh, staring numbly, mind racing. Because this is a daily occurrence now. 

All. You. Think. About. Is. Him.

Him and his obnoxious smile. Him and his warm brown eyes. Him and his chuckle that sounds dry to everyone else, but lively to you. 

Just…him.

And without a doubt, Lando has figured out that something was wrong with you, but he never asked questions.

Until now.

“Hey,” he says, plopping down next to you, pressing his lips against your temple quickly before smiling. “Have you been here all day?”

You blush, shivering by the sudden breeze. “If I say no, would you believe me?”

“Yes,” he admits, clicking his tongue. “Because apparently I believe almost everything you have to say.”

Including your lies. 

You hear him, but his voice is muffled by now with all that you’re feeling. He handed you an envelope, and you first opened it with curiosity, then with dread and shame when you realized what was inside.

The film.

You’re laughing, eyes shut with delight. 

Your lips are wrapped around his thumb.

Around his cock, too.

Drops of cum lay flat on your tongue.

One where his head is beneath your dress.

One of his hands wrapped around your ankles, a certain number four glimmering.

All of this, and more.

Licking your lips repeatedly, you sit up, staring at him with an open mouth. “Lando—”

“I’m not mad.”

You blink.

He shrugs, taking the pictures, making you want to snatch them back and figure out what to do with them yourself. How could you and Oscar forget to set this one aside?

He can tell that you’re mortified, so he sends a reassuring smile, but it does no good. “I’m not, alright? I’m just…disappointed.” His reaction is confusing, he can tell what you’re thinking. Why is he so okay with this? “I’m not the biggest fan of you lying to me, but whatever, it’s fine.”

“And sure, I should be furious that you two went behind my back, and maybe I am—but I’m willing to let it go because I love you.” The blue eyed boy pecks your lips, you still frozen with shock. He chuckles. “This is what I get, right? This is my karma? For sleeping with you while I was still dating your sister?”

When you still don’t say anything, he nods to himself, as if this is all making sense to him, and only him. “Must be.” A beat. “I forgive you.”

“What about him?” you squeak, scared of his response.

Lando clenches his jaw before breaking into a helpless smile. “He doesn’t have to know, I know. This will just remain between you and I—just like always. He doesn’t have to know. Lily doesn’t have to know.”

You hold yourself from crying because in a way, he’s right. Out of everyone, Lily Zneimer doesn’t deserve any of this. She has been nothing but good to you, and you’re embarrassed to notice now that you ruined a perfectly good friendship. And while she may have no clue, you do, and that’s enough for you to probably wince every time you look at her from now on.

“Just don’t do it again. M’kay?”

Rubbing his thumb against your lips, it’s almost like he’s waiting for something, but when you don’t seem to do whatever he was thinking, his eyes darken, and he gets up with a bitter smile. 

He takes the pictures with him and you don’t know what for.

But you don’t dare ask a single question.

It’s just you. Your thoughts.

And Oscar.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting @chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire @alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna @wanderingreigns @aykxz98 @ruti26-11 @esposamultifandom @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @r0nnsblog @aeriblu @inchidentofftrack @natashaklein @rutaceae-gelato @bowielovesyou @lilypat @folklaur21 @dustie-faerie @ajordan2020 @oscobabe @briefkittenearthquake @anayaverse

[bea0206]

Loved this whole series 🥰

𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖊 ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

“𝐁𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧” - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐀𝐔

𝙽𝙷𝙻!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 | 𝙿𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝙹𝙹 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜. 𝙻𝙰 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙽𝙷𝙻 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚋 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝙳𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚎.

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘’𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑?

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚎?

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | +𝟷𝟾, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 (𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎), 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚡 | 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚏 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍.

𝕽𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 - 𝚓𝚓 (𝚋𝚏), 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚔𝚢𝚢 (𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚘𝚙 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛), 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚎 (𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚛 + 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎), 𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚎 (𝚕𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚎 + 𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎), 𝚌𝚑𝚕𝚘é 𝚕𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎 (𝚙𝚘𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚕 + 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛), 𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 (𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍; #𝟼𝟾 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚓𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚜), 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 (𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚎’𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚛)

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝓣𝓪𝓰 𝓛𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟻 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟼 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟽 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟾 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟿 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷𝟶 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷𝟷 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷𝟸 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷𝟹 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷𝟺 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷𝟻 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷𝟼 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷𝟽 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷𝟾 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷𝟿 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸𝟶 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸𝟷 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸𝟸 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸𝟹 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸𝟺 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸𝟻 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸𝟼 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸𝟽 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸𝟾 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸𝟿 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹𝟶 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹𝟷 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹𝟸 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹𝟹 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹𝟺 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹𝟻 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹𝟼 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹𝟽 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹𝟾 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹𝟿 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺𝟶 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺𝟷 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺𝟸 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺𝟹 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺�� 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺𝟻 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺𝟼 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺𝟽 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺𝟾 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺𝟿 𝜗𝜚 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟻𝟶 (𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕)

𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓮 “𝓑𝓪𝓻 𝓓𝓸𝔀𝓷”…

𝕓𝕒𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕞𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕣𝕕

[bea0206]

Love this ❤️

scary? my god, you're divine

Hitman/Mob!Bucky x Reader 

Run-through: Your marriage to Bucky Barnes was crucial in stopping the rivalry that had been getting rather violent recently between the two families. You agreed to it. But there was one little problem. Although people knew of Bucky as being a ruthless, fiercely loyal, and feared hitman, no one had ever seen his face. In the rare occasions when he’d been seen out during assignments, it was rumoured that he always wore some sort of mask which covered most of his face. So you ended up marrying a man, and had no idea what he looked like. But surely that wouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like his one touch would get you addicted. Who cared what he looked like? It’s not like you could grow to love someone like him anyway… right? 

Themes: arranged marriage, age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, bucky’s in his late thirties), mentions of violence and death, hitman!Bucky, smut, fluff, explicit language, virgin!reader, HEA

Something woke you up in the middle of the night. 

And you’d been staring at the dark ceiling above your bed for the past few minutes now. What had woken you up? It could’ve been the strong winds hitting the large Georgian windows. Or perhaps it was the soft ticking of the nearby clock. Or maybe even the weight of all the incessant thoughts running through your head. 

Gods, you thought, what a day. 

It had started out like any other. Your father was pacing around, worried and barking orders on the phone, trying to find a way to put a stop to this chaos that was quickly forming into a full war between him and his number one rival. Small attacks had turned to frequent drive-bys, threats had turned into taking turns and blowing up each other’s warehouses and clubs. And it would only get worse and worse. 

But this morning, as he watched you come downstairs and into the dining room for breakfast, something in his eyes was different. And you could tell what was coming. You had been thinking about this for days. So when he sat you down and discussed how you could do your part in helping to put an end to all of this. 

“It’s only a matter of time before he sends his son, his favourite weapon after us all,” Your father sounded defeated. “And none of us would survive him. No one ever does. You know that.” 

You nodded, understanding what he meant. “I know.” 

The son of your father’s rival, Bucky Barnes, was a name which could make even powerful men like your father tremble in fear. He was like a ghost. No one ever saw him. No one knew what he looked like. Those who had seen him claimed that he always wore a muzzle-like mask to conceal his identity. He was known for being his father’s most prized weapon. They say he never misses, that his aim is and has always been as sure as Eros’ arrows. He was like an evil Cupid. 

“The marriage would only be on paper of course, you don’t have to live with him.” Your father explained, seeming desolated, “But you being married to him would make us family, and…” He trailed off, sighing. 

But you knew what he meant. Family meant everything in this society. If your family and the rival’s were joined to each other by marriage, all attacks would cease. Because keeping family safe was everyone’s number one priority, even in this line of work. 

So this was all up to you now. Your family’s safety, the safety of people who worked with and for your father, all the allies, and friends, and acquaintances. It was a heavy weight to carry. 

“I’ll do it.” 

Things happened so quickly after that. Phone calls were had, arrangements and deals were made, and by the afternoon, a sheet of paper was brought to you. That’s it. No groom, no fancy shit. Just a piece of paper on which Bucky Barnes had already signed. And with your signature added next to his, you two were now forever husband and wife by law. 

It was weird, being married to a man you had never seen before. He was just a name. Granted, a name with immense magnitude in the society, but still just a name. No face to go with it. 

By the evening, your things were packed. It was an order by your new husband. He wanted his new bride in his home, and things were so freshly mended that neither you nor your father wanted to argue. So Bucky sent cars and a bunch of his soldiers to escort you to his house. It was not unexpected that he was so absent from all this. Bucky Barnes had a reputation of living in the shadows. He was so rarely seen.

Bucky’s house was not too far from your family home. In fact, the closer you got to your new home, the more you realised that despite everything, you did not mind this as much as you thought you would. 

Your husband’s home was this stunning piece of architecture. A lavish Georgian-style mansion. Beige stone, carved details and mouldings around the many windows and main entrance. Dark shingles on the roof, well-manicured lawn, a long driveway giving it a sense of both elegance and exclusivity. The mansion sat on a beautiful, seemingly endless estate. Lush and green. It was a testament to the wealth and the power of its owner. 

You were politely led inside the home by one of the many staff members who took care of the house. And the interior was just as breathtaking. Luxurious, with the right amount of vintage accents. 

“We did what we could with the limited time we had to prepare a room for you.” The kind lady had said to you. She also mentioned that this room would be entirely yours. Bucky apparently had his own on the other side of the mansion. 

You murmured that it was alright, and when she finally showed you to the room they had ready for you, you were pleasantly impressed. The layout, the colour theme, the decor, all of it was to your liking. You even had a personal little balcony which looked over the endless green backyard. 

That night you dined alone, which was not a surprise. Everyone knew Bucky Barnes was a busy man, and he was apparently above trivial things like dining with his new wife. But the silence was welcomed. After dinner you found yourself back in your bedroom, and soon in bed with a book. 

Well, maybe this was your new life now. Grand mansion with an impressive library. Solo dinners and kind staff members. A giant, dreamy bedroom all for you. Dare you say, it wasn’t too bad. 

–

But here you were now, unable to fall back asleep after some mysterious thing woke you up. You sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. You couldn’t even blame your new surroundings for your inability to sleep. Everything here was so quiet, and comfortable. Even this new bed felt like laying on the fluffiest cloud. Perhaps you could read some more–

You froze when you heard it. 

Someone breathing. Someone else’s breaths. A soft exhale, but it was enough to make your heart race in panic. It was the middle of the night. And there was someone in this dark room with you. 

Slowly, you tried to reach for the lamp on your bedside table to turn it on, but then you heard a voice say, “Don’t.” 

A smooth, relaxed, male voice. Sounding like it came from one corner of the room. It could only be one man, couldn’t it? 

“Bucky?” You questioned, for some reasons pulling the covers up to your chin as if he was not a man but a ghost. 

A pause, then he said, like he was gently teasing you, “Hello, wife. Can’t sleep?” 

You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness better. You strained your eyes until you could see the silhouette of a man in the corner of the room. He was sitting in one of the sofas near the unlit fireplace, quiet, still like a marble statue. 

There was almost no light coming into the room. The thick curtains allowed very little moonlight in, and it was hard to see. But you couldn’t ignore that large silhouette now that you’d noticed him. Something near him was shiny, almost metal like, you couldn’t tell what it was. 

“Do you always lurk around in the shadows like a ghost?” You asked, wondering where the hell you found the confidence to talk to one of the finest hitmen like this. It’s not like he would shoot you if he didn’t like you. A small voice said. Would he? 

A chuckle. Deep, and careless. A boyish sound. 

“It’s my house,” He responded in that same gentle but teasing tone, “I lurk wherever I please.” 

Well, he did have a point there. 

“Well then,” You said in a casual tone, “If you’re done lurking and spying on me, I’d like to go back to bed.” 

A soft scoff. Then he said, “I’ve watched you toss and turn for the past half an hour. I’d say you’re having trouble turning your brain off.” 

Half an hour?! 

“Wouldn’t you?” You retorted, keeping your voice calm and steady. “If you were forced to marry someone who’s so mysterious that no one’s ever seen them before, wouldn’t you have some trouble turning your brain off?” 

“Ah.” He got up, and you could tell by the sound of his footsteps that he was approaching the bed, “No one forced you to marry me. A suggestion was made and you agreed to it.” 

You replied quickly, “The alternative was watching everyone I love and myself be murdered by you, so semantics.” 

Another chuckle as he stopped at the edge of the bed, so close to you. You refused to move. You tilted your head up but could still only see his silhouette. He spoke in that teasing tone again, “They said you were smart, and beautiful. Guess they forgot to mention you were bratty too.” 

You frowned. “What?” 

Silence. Then he began moving away from your bed and towards the door. “Good night, wife.” 

“Good night,” You muttered, slightly annoyed and confused, “Ghost.” 

You heard his soft chuckle right as he shut the door behind him and left you all alone again in the dark. You didn’t dare turn the lamp on even after he left. 

— 

“Is Bucky ever home?” 

You asked one of the staff members at breakfast the next morning. The lady smiled at you and answered, “He keeps to himself. We rarely ever know if he’s home or not. He works at odd hours, you see? Besides, our job is to take care of the house. We clean, we make the meals and leave them in the fridge, we get our paychecks each month. Everyone is happy. We don’t pry.” 

You nodded, sipping on some tea. “So… are you one of the people who don’t know what he looks like?” 

“Oh no. I saw him recently.” She said, smiling. 

“How recent?” You asked. 

“A couple of months ago. He’s a busy man, he’s rarely ever home.” 

Unbelievable. 

“Doesn’t it feel like you’re employed by a ghost?” 

She smiled again, refilled your cup and said, “Oh, we’re used to Mr. Barnes. Sure, sometimes it feels like the house is way too empty. But look, now you’re here! We get to take proper care of someone for once.” 

She was so cheery and kind that you couldn’t help but smile at her words. How on earth did a man that grim manage to have the best staff members in the whole world? 

— 

The following night, Bucky came to see you again. 

You woke up upon hearing the door of your bedroom opening. You sat up again, leaning against the headboard. You didn’t reach for the lamp on your bedside table this time. Instead you said, “Lurking again, I see.” 

“Oh yes,” He answered, taking a seat on the same sofa by the dark fireplace. “How was your day, wife?” He asked, as if this was the most normal way to have a conversation. 

“Good.” You said, “I spoke with your staff members. They say they barely ever see you at home.” 

He sighed, “I barely ever am at home.” 

You rolled your eyes even though you knew he couldn’t see it. He was too… intangible. Faceless. There was nothing you knew about him aside from his profession. And not knowing was starting to annoy you. 

“Why can’t I see you?” You asked. “I mean it’s not fair. I married you. I’ll eventually see you someday.” 

He was silent for a moment. Then asked, “Will you?” 

“Well, yes.” 

“What for?” There was that teasing tone again. So subtle. But it was there. 

Your face burned. “Well… we’re married.” You stated the obvious. “And it won’t be long till our families start asking for, you know, grandbabies.” 

“Babies can be made in the dark.” His smooth voice felt like a gentle caress. Like the finest, cool silk sliding over your warm body… 

Oh no. You can’t like his voice. Not yet. 

“That’s not what I–,” You sighed, “Why are you so against showing your face? Are you ugly?” 

He chuckled then. Loudly, if you could see him you’d surely see his shoulders shaking. “You think too much, wife.” He got up again, ready to leave. “Good night.” 

You sighed, defeated, and listened to the sounds of him leaving the room. Then almost angrily whispered, “Good night, husband.” 

—

“It’s because he’s ugly, isn’t it?” You asked two of the staff members one morning while they set the table for your breakfast. “That’s why he doesn’t show his face?” 

The two ladies chuckled to themselves, and one of them said, “No he isn’t.” She sounded confident too. 

“Have you seen his face? Like properly?” 

They both nodded. 

“And? You don’t find it weird that he doesn’t show his face?” You questioned. “He refuses to let me see him. He only comes to talk to me in the dark. Like some messed up Eros.” You whispered the last part to yourself. 

One of the ladies said, gently, “Give him time. He’s not… terrible.” 

— 

“Your staff speaks highly of you.” You said to him when he came to see you that night. Again, sat in that corner like a ghost whose only purpose was to haunt your bedroom specifically. 

“Do they?” 

“Yes,” You made yourself comfortable, leaning against the headboard like you had the habit of doing. “Do you pay them to sing your praises?” 

He chuckled. “Is it that hard to believe that I’m not some sort of monster?” 

You sighed. “If not then why can’t I see you?” 

“Not yet.” He said. 

“Why?” 

“Because I said so.” He replied, and by the sounds of it, he stood up. Surely ready to leave. “Now, is there anything you need?” 

You tried to see if you could tell where he was standing but the room was too dark. However, it seemed like, judging by the sound of footsteps, that he’d gotten closer to the end of your bed. “There’s nothing to do around the house. The ladies take care of everything. I appreciate the library, but…” 

He was quiet, like he was thinking. Then said, “I’ll see to it.” 

“I’m assuming you won’t let me go back to work in my family’s companies.” You could tell he wouldn’t. 

“No,” He said, as expected. “You’re my wife now. I’m well equipped to provide for you and see to your needs for the rest of our lives. But if you have any hobbies, please, indulge away.” 

Something about his calm tone made you confess your little secret, “I like to paint. I’ve always wanted to be an artist.” 

You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Perhaps the dark helped you open up better. Maybe the fact that you didn’t know him made it easier to talk. Like how people tend to prefer texting over calls. Him being so invisible made it so much more effortless. 

You continued, “I always wonder what it must be like to have an exhibition of my works.” You chuckled. “I know it sounds vain but… I’ve always wanted to let my mind and soul leak all over canvases, and share it with the world. I think it’s such a brave thing when people do that.” 

He was quiet for a few seconds, then spoke in that teasing tone, “Painting, huh?” 

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t get to make fun of me, ghost.” 

He chuckled. “Get some sleep, wife.” 

And then he left. 

— 

The following morning, you woke up to two surprises. 

The first one was waiting for you at the breakfast table. You noticed the box on the floor immediately. It was partially opened, and had a note stuck to it. 

The note read: ‘Since there’s nothing to do around the house…’ written in a messy handwriting. Surely Bucky’s. 

You opened the box and in there, on a folded blanket, was a sleeping, fluffy little puppy. A black lab it seemed. With a pink collar around her neck. You gasped as you gently picked it up and couldn’t resist bringing it up to your face. Puppies always smelt so good. 

The little one yawned and let out some cute noises as you held her up to look at her properly. By now the two ladies whom you saw frequently around the house walked up to you and one of them said, “He left something else for you.” 

You followed the ladies, new puppy in hand, and they led you to what seemed like a newly built studio. It was in an area of the mansion where you didn’t go very often. And as you walked in, you gasped in surprise for the second time that morning. 

It was located on the ground floor. A bright and spacious space. The beige walls felt like a giant blank canvas in itself. The large Georgian windows allowed the perfect amount of light in. And everything in the room was neatly organised. Art supplies, paints, canvases, palettes, easels. 

Oh, it was perfect. 

The ladies left you to explore on your own, saying something about bringing you breakfast in here. But you were distracted by the bright yellow sticky note on one of the easels. You walked up to it and it read: ‘For your mind and soul to leak all over. Paint me something. I’ll consider it a wedding gift.’ 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read and re-read the note left by your mysterious husband. You whispered to your sleeping puppy, “Maybe our ghost isn’t so bad, huh?” 

-

Hours went by. 

The ladies brought you and the puppy your meals, a bed for the pup, snacks for you, all while you were busy letting your creativity flow as much as possible. 

The first few canvases were horrible according to you. You hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in so long so it felt like day one all over again. But gradually, over the next few canvases, you could see what your brain was trying to create. 

The blank canvas soon turned into flowy shapes. Curves, facial features, hands. Entwining bodies. Two of them. And the colour purple, lots of it. It didn’t make too much sense at first, but the more you worked on it the more you realised what you were painting. 

It was your version of ‘The Abduction of Psyche’. How fitting. 

By the time you were done and happy with it, your back was aching from sitting on that stool all day. It was almost time for dinner. The sun had set. The puppy was awake so you held her up to show her the canvas and asked, “You think our ghost will like it?” 

She let out the tiniest, softest howl. 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

You left to shower and have dinner. Then once it was time for bed you asked one of the staff members, “Does Bucky have some kind of an office?” 

She replied saying yes he does, and that she could show you where it was. You grabbed the not yet dry canvas and carefully carried it all the way to where Bucky’s office was. The lady again left you all by yourself to explore. 

At first you didn’t want to spend too much time in there. It was Bucky’s space after all. But then you thought, if he was comfortable walking into your bedroom at odd times during the night, why shouldn’t you check out his office? 

So you did. You left the canvas where it could dry without any problem and where Bucky would see it upon entering the room. Then you began exploring. The room was not what you were expecting for someone like Bucky. You thought it would be less… old school. 

He had a vintage looking typewriter on his desk for gods’ sake. Not one he used of course, but it added layers to his character you thought. Dark wooden furniture, comfortable looking chairs, more bookshelves filled with cloth-bound books. It was… cosy. 

So cosy in fact that you grabbed a book and made yourself comfortable on one of the chairs. You’d read for an hour or so then head off to bed, you thought. 

But soon, you drifted off to sleep. Right there. In Bucky’s office. 

-

You woke up and felt something soft and fluffy moving around on your lap. You opened your eyes and quickly realised you weren’t in bed. The room was dark. With very little light coming in from the outside. There were no curtains in this room, but also it was situated in an area of the mansion where very little moonlight came in.

Before you could panic though, a voice spoke up from not too far away, “You’ve been busy today, I see.” 

Ah, Bucky. And fuck. You’d fallen asleep in his office. 

You refused to feel embarrassed. So you asked, “Did you like your wedding gift?” 

“Yes.” He replied, and gauging by the sound you could tell he was sitting at his desk, in the darkest corner of the room. “I’ll hang it in my office.” 

You smiled in the dark, feeling a little proud of yourself. “And where’s my wedding gift?” 

“In your lap.” 

Fair. 

“What should we name her?” You asked, reaching to caress your puppy who let out an adorable grunt. “Hedone? Donnie, for short?” 

He let out a chuckle. “You are really leaning into this whole Eros-Psyche thing, huh?” 

You shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t have to if you’d just show me your face. But you keep choosing not to, so deal with it.” 

A pause. Then he asked, “You like your new studio?” 

That made you sit up straighter. “I love it. Thank you.” Then you added, “My family always thought painting was a waste of time. They said it kept my head in the clouds too much. That it was… pointless.” 

He was quick to say, “It’s not. Besides, your hobbies don’t have to make sense to anyone else but yourself. And I’ve seen the other canvases you left in the studio. They’re good.” 

You turned to face the dark corner he was in. “You think?” 

“Yes,” He said. “We can hold an exhibition if you want. Let me know when you’re ready.” 

You let out a surprised chuckle. And when he didn’t laugh you realised he was serious. “Bucky, it's not so easy.” You explained calmly. “There’s so much work that goes into it, there needs to be some cohesion to the art pieces. There’s marketing, there’s research, there’s…” You exhaled, “There’s a lot of work to be done. Art exhibitions aren’t as easy or quick as you think it is.” 

He replied, “Leave all that to me. Just let me know when you want to hold one.” 

Just like that? 

“I… okay.” 

You felt warm in a way you’d never felt before. No one had ever taken your interests so seriously before. You’d never even been able to discuss this freely about your hobbies. And here Bucky was, ready to listen and interact with it. 

You got up to leave because this was… a lot to process. “Well then. Good night, Bucky.” 

A soft scoff. “Think I liked it more when you called me a ghost.” 

You smiled as you approached the door, puppy in hand and amazed at how well you were able to navigate in the dark. “Night, ghost.” 

He gave you a satisfied hum, then, “Good night, wife.” 

— 

It was bizarre to admit but you’d gotten used to those conversations in the dark with your husband. Days went by quickly given how engrossed you were with painting. Especially with the thought of a potential exhibition now in the back of your mind. Gods, that would be a dream. 

And while your days consisted of painting, playing and training your puppy, exploring more and more of the grounds and your new home, making quick trips to the stores to get more supplies, catching up with your friends who were still trying to grasp the fact that you got married so quickly, getting to know the household staff and the guards better, your night consisted of waiting and fighting your sleep until Bucky came to talk to you. 

It was always short conversations. Filled with easy banter and teasing tones, sarcastic comments and you asking each and every night if he was in the mood to show his face. Bucky always said no. And you always sent him off with a ‘good night, ghost’. 

You had gotten used to your ghost. As had your puppy. She would bark happily each time Bucky would enter your bedroom door at night. She’d run to him for playtime and cuddles as he sat in his dark corner and spoke with you until you fell asleep. 

Bucky would often leave you some kind of a note, for you to read in the morning. At the breakfast table, or in your studio. Sometimes he would leave compliments and comments on your dry canvases. Eventually, you stopped fighting the smiles which formed on your face as you read his notes. 

But all of it only made you want to see him more. Not that it would change anything. Bucky had quickly become… a friend, you’d say. A confidant if you will. He had become a habit. Part of your routine. 

And then one night, he didn’t come to see you. 

You waited. He usually came around midnight. It was well past 2 a.m. and he never came. 

At some point you went downstairs, pretending as if you just needed some water. One of the guards caught you trying to peek out into the driveway from the kitchen window. 

“Boss is not home yet, ma’am.” He said. 

You acted like you didn’t care. But still asked, “He does this often?” 

“Sometimes.” 

You nodded. You took your drink and with your puppy in your arms you walked back upstairs, passing by the many guards who were on duty inside the house at nighttime. 

“It’s alright, he’s probably just busy.” You whispered to the sleeping pup as you made your way up. “Or maybe he’s hurt and tending to his wounds somewhere else.” You felt a gentle pinch in your chest at the thought of Bucky hurt and alone out there. So you forced yourself to think of something else. Something way worse. “Or maybe he’s with someone else.” You scoffed, nuzzling the soft fur of your pup, “This marriage means nothing to him anyway. But that’s alright, we don’t need him. I’ve got you. We’ve got each other. Don’t we?” 

Safe to say, you went to bed slightly annoyed that night. And in denial too because you refused to admit that you missed him. 

– 

There was a note waiting for you in your studio the next morning. 

It read: ‘No I did not spend the night with someone else. I’ll explain later. See you tonight, wife.’ 

Huh. Looks like the guards have really good ears. 

Well, whatever. It’s not like you were impatiently waiting for night to come just so you could talk to your ghost of a husband. Right? 

Except you were though. So much that you couldn’t paint a decent thing. You were easily giving up on each canvas, and leaving a trail of unfinished work the more time went on. 

Eventually you sighed and left the studio. You tried reading but that wasn’t happening either. So you did the only thing you knew would take your mind off things. You asked the ladies to show you where everything was kept in the kitchen and you got to baking. 

Which you did until it was time for bed. Your mood was off, and it was all because of a faceless man. And that somehow annoyed you even more. 

You grabbed a plate of the mini muffins you’d made earlier and made your way upstairs. Your puppy had just gotten used to the stairs so she happily followed you everywhere you went now. 

You proceeded to sit in bed, and eat your muffins angrily and forced yourself to try to sleep. 

-

You woke up sometime later. And you just knew who was in the room with you. 

Except he wasn’t in his usual spot. 

He was standing by the windows which faced your bed this time, with his back to you. The curtains were pulled, the moonlight came and there was his dark silhouette. And… you frowned as you noticed the shiny metal arm. 

“You’re home.” You said. 

Bucky turned his head to the side, “I am.” He said. 

You took a second or two to admire the side profile. With the moonlight shining all around his silhouette he looked like a fallen angel of sorts. “You didn’t come home last night.” 

“I was out working,” He said. 

“Maiming and killing?” 

“You know me so well.” 

“Is that a… metal arm?” You questioned. 

“It is.”  

“Were you hurt?” 

“I was.” 

You sighed again. “Is it always going to be bland answers and mystery with you?” 

“Get used to it.” He said in that teasing tone. 

You got out of bed as quietly as you could. “I think I liked you better without the attitude, when you sat in the corner like a ghost.” You took some steps away from the bed, approaching the giant windows. The room was rather spacious so it would take some more steps to get close to him. If you’d only– 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” He warned, but remained in the same spot. 

You groaned. “Don’t you think this is getting tiring? I mean, I’m married to a man I’ve never seen before. In fact, no one has ever seen you. Why? What are you hiding?” You added, sounding defeated.  

Bucky lowered his head, which only accentuated how broad his shoulders really were. He sighed. “Do you know how much trouble could’ve been avoided if only Psyche trusted Eros?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I think she had her reasons. A mysterious, faceless lover who only shows up in the dark and hides in the shadows is bound to raise some doubts. Don’t you think so?” 

He chuckled. You blinked and he’d turned around to face you. But despite that, you couldn’t see his face at all. Even though he was inches away. 

He was quiet. Observing you with interest. The moonlight allowed him to see all of you, and he just… stared for a moment or two. A shiver ran down your back. An unfamiliar, but pleasant shiver. 

Without a word said, Bucky reached out and gently touched the thin strap of your silky night dress resting on your shoulder. His metal finger gliding along your skin and making you gasp at his cold touch. 

“What’s this?” He asked in his usual teasing tone. “Trying to tempt me with this excuse of a night dress, wife?” 

Fuck. Had his voice dropped lower? 

Fuck! He was so close to you. You didn’t even notice that your heart had begun racing. Your breaths had deepened. Shit. Why was this so hot?! 

“Are you? Tempted?” You asked with a steady voice, without thinking obviously. You just needed to say something so he wouldn’t notice the way you were basically panting after him like a thirsty dog. 

He chuckled. But remained quiet. 

So you said, “Thought so.” You sounded smug but you were feeling the complete opposite. 

Bucky scoffed in that arrogant way he often did. It was insane how easily you were able to pick up on his mannerism when you hadn’t even known him for that long. “Is that what you think? That I don’t want to sleep with you?” 

Oh. 

Oh this was bad. Because now your brain was making up hot, steamy scenes in your head. Scenes involving you and your faceless, mysterious husband in the dark. Entwining bodies on soft bed sheets. Fuck, you should paint that. No, what?  

“Then why haven’t you?” You found yourself asking. 

Okay then, bold as fuck it is. You’d gone past the point of no return now. Guess it was time for this conversation. 

Bucky’s fingers remained on your shoulder, tracing the thin strap there. And you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the smirk in his voice when he asked, “You want me to?” His metal hand dropped to your waist and before you could fully process it, he pulled you closer, leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You want my hands all over you, wife?” 

You could feel his slight stubble against your skin as he spoke. His lips brushing against your ear, making you gasp and tremble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders. And oh, he was pulling you even closer. Your chest pressing against his. The cool material of his suit felt amazing against your warm skin. 

“Look at you,” He cooed into your ear. “Is this what you want? Hmm?” He placed both his hands on your waist, pulling you into him. His lips moved lower, brushing against your neck as he spoke. “You like how rough my hands feel?” He moved his hands up and down your sides. “Do you know how many people I’ve hurt with these hands?” He chuckled when he heard the tiniest moan leave your mouth. “You’re so soft and warm, aren’t you worried what these hands might do to you?” 

He nuzzled your neck, hands roaming all over your sides and back and squeezing your butt. You became so pliant under his touch. Tilting your head back to allow him to kiss all over your neck, pressing your chest more and more against his like you couldn’t get enough. The layers of clothing, you wanted them gone. 

With a shaky voice you murmured, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to scare me or turn me on.” 

He laughed. And it was the best sound you’d ever heard. 

“You’re sick in that pretty head, huh?” He teased. “That beautiful brain is filled with filthy, dirty, dark thoughts, isn’t it?” His metal hand reached up and carefully wrapped around your throat. 

You gasped as he squeezed just a little bit. Those dirty thoughts he spoke about really started to fill your head. 

“Are you just all talk or–,” 

He cut you off by dragging you all the way to your bed, still holding you by the throat. 

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he gave you a slight push, ending with you falling onto your bed on your back. You looked up at him, hovering above you, his lower body pressing into yours. 

“Do you just run that mouth?,” He asked, supporting himself with one hand while the metal one remained wrapped around your throat, his voice low and menacing but in a way that made your legs part on their own so his hips settled in between them. Your bodies fit together like the most perfect puzzle pieces. “Or do you know how to take it like a brat as well?” 

You felt the need to let him know then. “I don’t know,” You said, sounding both breathless and bratty. “I’ve never had to take it.” 

He paused for a moment. Then asked in subtle surprise, “What do you mean?” Even his grip around your throat loosened completely. 

You squirmed in slight embarrassment but that only caused your hips to grind against his and for a moment there both of you let out a strained moan. Fuck. The tension between the two of you was almost physical now. Even in the dark, even with Bucky being nothing more than just a shadow above you. 

“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, still feeling his cold fingers all over your skin, “I’ve never been with anyone before.” 

He was quiet. As if thinking. You tried your hardest but you couldn’t see any of his facial features. You knew he had a slight stubble because you’d felt it earlier. But aside from that, you knew nothing. Not even his eye colour. 

“You want us to stop?” He asked, shifting his body slightly as if he was ready to pull away if you asked him to. 

“No,” You answered way too quickly. Then you got bold again and let your hands find their way back to his shoulders. You pulled him down, closer to you just a little and said, “This is okay.” 

His fingers moved up, from your neck to your mouth. “Yeah? You want this, huh?” He mumbled, tracing your mouth with his fingers. You shivered under his touch. “You’ve been a whiny little brat lately, haven’t you, wife? Pouting and all just because I wouldn’t show myself to you.” He whispered, leaning in to just brush his lips against yours. You gasped at the sensation of his soft lips rubbing against yours. Bucky chuckled at your reaction. “Don’t think my staff doesn’t report back to me. I’ve been well aware of all the times you asked the ladies to give you details about me.” 

Now that made you squirm in embarrassment. Still you said, sounding a little annoyed at being caught. “Can you blame me?”

“Can’t you just trust me?” He argued. 

The danger and authority in his tone had your thighs clenching together to try and alleviate the torturous pain in between your legs. You were almost certain you had never been this turned on and annoyed at the same damn time before. You sighed in frustration. “This isn’t fair.” 

“No, it isn’t,” He said, pulling away and began undressing you to your pleasant surprise. “Deal with it.” 

Oh fuck. 

Fuck… You had to hold back from whimpering each time his hands rubbed against your skin. He took his time in sliding the straps of your night dress down your shoulders, dragging the silky fabric down your body, leaving you more and more naked under him. 

You shivered once he left your night dress bunched around your waist carelessly. It wasn’t just because of the slightly cold air. It was because even though you couldn’t see him, you could tell he was staring right at you. 

You spoke in a hushed voice, not daring to speak loud in fear that it might break whatever spell you were under. “So you get to see me naked all you want, but I can’t see your face?” 

He chuckled. “You want me to leave this room right now? Leave you here all wet and squirming? Or do you want me to take care of it and make you come? Huh?” 

That shut you up really quickly. 

“I thought so.” He sounded smug again when he said that. “I should spank you for the brat you are. But since it’s your first time… I’ll be nice.” 

His hands touched you everywhere, your thighs, your stomach, your sides, your chest, your neck… everywhere. He left you gasping and trembling under him. 

“Please.” You caught yourself whispering. 

Bucky leaned down, his soft mouth brushing against your cheek as he said, “Please what?” 

You squirmed, “Touch me, please.” 

He chuckled. You felt his warm breath against your skin as he kissed his way down your naked body. “Look at you,” He murmured, lips brushing against your stomach, “You’re so eager already.” 

You heard the faint chuckle which left his mouth the moment he noticed your legs spread apart for him naturally. Your face felt like it was burning but fuck, you were too turned on to even be properly embarrassed. Also, being in complete darkness helped. 

Damn. You were really getting intimate with your husband whom you hadn’t even seen yet. And somehow that fact was making you want this even more. 

But that mystery stopped being an issue the moment Bucky leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.

He poked at your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than before. Back arching off the bed as you let out a soft moan at the foreign feeling. Fuck he felt good. You whimpered as you felt his tongue stroke your most sensitive parts. Your immediate reaction was to pull your hips back from the overwhelmingly good sensation his mouth was causing. And that made him grip your thighs tighter, keeping them pinned to the bed. 

“Stop moving.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble. 

You whined as you felt his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to his mouth. The metal hand on your warm skin made you shiver and tremble so much that you were thankful for the darkness. 

The small amount of moonlight which came in allowed you to only see the silhouette of his broad shoulders, and his head moving slowly, sensually in between your legs. Fuck… somehow the mystery only made it hotter.

Oh you were fucked in the head for real. 

And oh, Bucky was a fucking tease. Once he noticed how easily you cried out and moaned for him, he slowed down and began kissing around your clit just to purposely mess with you. He kissed your thighs, purposely avoiding touching where he knew you needed him the most. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin around your inner thighs. 

“Bucky, please!” You cried out, hand reaching for his hair. When you managed to grab a fistful of his soft hair, you gave it a gentle tug. “Stop teasing me.” 

“You don’t get to give me orders, wife.” He said, sounding all proud and mighty. “I could just walk out of here and leave you like this. Naked and squirming.” 

“Please,” You begged again. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you. 

A scoff. Then he leaned in again. You whined and whimpered under him, with your legs wrapped around his head. Fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp instinctively as he flicked, and sucked, and teasing your clit as much as he could. 

“You’ve been a brat because you wanted your husband’s attention so badly, huh?” He taunted. “Is that what you wanted? Just my attention?” He chuckled. “You’re as calm as a happy kitten now, aren’t you?” 

His stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin, and the friction burned a little but it was the kind of pain you kept wanting more of. You wanted more of him. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” You murmured, throwing your head back, moaning as he kept teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. 

“Come for me, wife.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. 

You couldn’t even hold on for much longer, and ended up coming undone all over his tongue. Heart racing, legs trembling in his grip as you came. Your moans were soft and incessant. 

Fuck… that felt amazing. 

You had barely gotten your heart to stop racing, and Bucky was already standing up and in the dark you couldn’t see very well but it did look like he was moving away from the bed. 

“You’re leaving?” You asked, unable to stop yourself from sounding a little upset at his departure. 

All he said was, “Good night, wife. See you tomorrow.” 

You scoffed after he shut the door behind him, leaving you in darkness yet again. “Ghost.” 

— 

That night ended up being the first of many. 

Your days consisted of painting, and finally finding a flow in most of your pieces. Perhaps if you’re able to make a decent collection, you could start thinking about the exhibition seriously, you thought. When you weren’t painting you were either training your rapidly growing puppy, or baking. You’d begun taking your puppy out for walks around the mansion, consequently doing some more exploring of the grounds. 

After all that, each night you’d get in bed and wait for Bucky. It became part of your routine. And each night with him was different. He’d spend his time touching you slowly until you were purring for him like a kitten. Kissing you all over your body in the dark. Making you come all over his tongue and fingers. Kissing you until you moaned and pulled him closer just to feel his weight pressing down on you. 

But he would always leave after making you come. And you two never actually fucked. Neither would he let you make him come. 

On nights when he wouldn’t make it home, you’d worry yourself to sleep. But then each morning you’d find a note from him either in your studio or the breakfast table. He would always say some cheesy shit. And he would always promise to come see you later that night. 

On nights when you two didn’t engage in anything sexual, it was still just as fulfilling. Bucky would tell you things about his work, his past, his family. You learnt that he was over a decade older than you, and teased him about being an old man until he pinned you to the bed and tickled you until you couldn’t breathe. 

You learnt that he liked to keep to himself and stay as far away from his family as possible. He liked peace and quiet, which would explain his lovely home being here away from most people. 

The more you learned about him, the easier it was to grow fond of him. But the more you grew fond of him, the greedier you got. You wanted more. More of his time, his touch, his attention, and most of all, you wanted to see him. 

The mystery, while hot as fuck, was killing you. 

—

One night, things changed. 

Bucky came into your room as usual. He’d gotten bolder lately, he wouldn’t sit in the corner like a ghost anymore, instead he would find his way to your bed and only leave that bed after making you come hard. 

Tonight started out the same way.  

You felt his hands all over you as he pulled you closer to him under the covers. You giggled as he bit and licked that one sensitive spot on your neck. Your fingers had a habit of finding themselves in his hair. It was insane how easily you’d gotten used to being with him in the dark. How easily you could find his mouth with your own. How easily you’d find your way into his arms. 

It was weirdly comforting. His warmth, his voice, his touch. 

“Tell me about your day,” He murmured, kissing your neck while his hands grabbed you and caressed you wherever he could reach. 

You squealed when you felt his metal fingers wandering dangerously close to your clit. Then said, “It went pretty well. I went out to buy some supplies, made a new friend at the store, I went to see my father but he wasn’t home. I took our dog for a walk, I painted…,” You gasped when his mouth trailed down till he took a nipple into his warm mouth, while he slid two fingers inside you gently. “Oh fuck…” You whined. 

He kissed his way up to your mouth again and said, “You sound so good when you moan for me, wife.” His lips brushed against yours. 

He was so close. And it was dark. And you wanted so desperately to see him. 

He moved his fingers expertly in and out of you. Making sure to brush against your most sensitive spots each time, turning you into a whimpering mess under him. He gave you a gentle kiss, swallowing your moans as he brought you closer to the edge. 

You whimpered and whined, then in the moment you just blurted out, “Can I please see you now?” 

Bucky stopped. He pulled away from you, making you whimper again as he got up and got out of your bed. 

In the dark it took a while for you to figure out where he was, whether he was still nearby or already making his way out the door. But he was here, standing near the bed. 

“We talked about this.” He said, sounding grave and disappointed. 

“But it’s been so long.” You argued. “I trust you.” 

He let out a loud exhale and said, “Then trust me when I say, it’s better this way.” 

You let out a sigh. “You can’t keep me in the dark forever, Bucky. Literally!” 

“Yes I can. I will.” He said arrogantly. That tone of his bothered you. “It’s better this way.” He repeated, but it sounded a lot like he was trying to convince himself instead of you. 

“Oh screw you!” You said with enough bitterness to make a grown man flinch. “If you won’t let me see you then stop coming into my bedroom. I don’t want to see you unless you agree to let go of this weird persona.” 

“Fine.” 

—

That night was the last time you heard from Bucky. 

He didn’t come home the following day. Nor the one after that. 

And no one knew where he went. 

You could tell something was wrong when you began noticing that the guards were talking in hushed voices whenever you were around. You noticed that the amount of security around the house doubled. That’s when you began to worry. 

By the third night, the entire house was filled with this almost tangible tension, worry, and fear. The house staff wouldn’t talk to you as much. The guards were always in and out of the house. The head of security advised you to not wander too far away from the house while you roam the grounds. 

You noticed the guards would follow you whenever you left the property. Be it when you left to visit your father at your old house or when you went out to buy supplies. 

Then you worried some more. But no one had answers to your questions. Nobody knew where he went. Whether he’s away for an assignment or if he’s simply choosing to be away from home. 

You tried your hardest to pretend that you didn’t care. You were still a little angry. After all, why couldn’t you see what he looked like? You’d spend so much time with him in the dark, running your hands all over him, tracing the outline of his facial features, he never had an issue with that. But why couldn’t you see him? 

You were angry, but also very much worried by the fourth day. You missed him, you realised. He had become such a habit, such a constant in your days. His sarcastic humour, his gentle hands, his comforting embrace, the way he left you notes in the morning, the way he took your art seriously. 

Fuck. You sat up in bed one night, patting ‘his’ side of the bed softly. You missed him. Badly. You felt a pinch inside your chest which you had never felt before. It hurt. You wanted him home. You admitted to yourself with a painful sigh. 

“Where are you?” You whispered, looking at the dark corner of your bedroom where he used to sit in silence like a ghost. “It’s okay if you want to stay in the dark forever.” You looked around the dark room which now without him seemed so much bigger and empty, “Just come home.” 

—

The next morning, as you half-heartedly approached the kitchen, you overheard something. And quickly realised you shouldn’t have heard it. It was the two ladies talking in hushed tones, the ones who usually served you your meals and often kept you company while you baked. 

“...cannot tell her, she’ll be heartbroken.” One of them said gravely. 

Sudden panic made your body freeze. You pressed your back against the nearest wall to keep yourself hidden while you processed those cryptic words. No, no, no. Is he hurt? Do they know something you don’t? 

The other replied, “But she deserves to know. Even if it’s not confirmed yet. I mean, do you see how she smiles when she reads his notes? Clearly she had grown to care for him. She needs to know.” 

The other argued, “I know, but I cannot imagine how hurt she will be when she hears about the rumours that her own father kidnapped her husband due to some past rivalry which was supposedly laid to rest after their wedding.” 

“They’ve been looking for him for days now. It’s been too long, he should’ve been found by now.” 

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! 

No. This cannot be happening. 

You carefully walked away from the kitchen. Thinking, processing, analysing. 

If your father did it, it must’ve been for some shitty, arrogant reason. He probably just wanted to rub it in Bucky’s family’s face that he could still eliminate his biggest threat if he wanted to. To show that he could still get rid of them by holding their most precious weapon hostage. To toy with them by making them wait in anticipation. Your father had done it before. Not with Bucky, but other people. He usually never asked for ransom but he liked having his rivals beg him for mercy. 

Shit. He’s had Bucky for days now. 

You moved without thinking twice about it. For some reason, your brain knew exactly what to do even though your heart was still bothered by a multitude of emotions. It felt like you were on autopilot. 

You rushed into Bucky’s office and grabbed a handgun from his desk drawer, checked if it was loaded. It was. You knew Bucky kept it there for safety, he had told you that one time when you two were in bed together. 

You let out a frustrated sigh, then felt movement around your ankles. You looked down at your puppy and gave her a sad smile as you bent down to pet her. “I’m gonna go find daddy, okay? I’ll be home soon.” You left her with a kiss. 

You rushed back downstairs and found a group of armed guards in the foyer near the front door. You didn’t have the time to explain it all to them, especially since you were driven by a gut feeling. Instead you asked, “Do you guys have a way of tracking my phone, or my car?” 

One of them nodded. The rest frowned in confusion. 

You tried to keep your calm as much as you could even though your heart was racing. “Okay, I’m gonna go to my father’s house. Don’t follow me yet, but I need some of you to come find me as soon as I begin driving away from there.” 

Surprisingly, they just nodded and let you go. 

The whole time you drove to your father’s house, it felt you were constantly having to force yourself to keep calm. After four days of having no idea where he was, and now as all the puzzle pieces fit together, it was hard to remain calm. You just wanted to get to him. 

And while you drove, unanswered questions tormented you. 

Was he hurt? Where was he being kept? Was he beaten up? Was he even conscious? Would this end badly? How far would your father take this? Would he hurt him? 

Before you knew it, you were entering your father’s property. The guards let you in like they always did. You had to take a minute to breathe in your car before stepping out and going inside your old home. 

Luckily your father was home. 

You walked in and stopped in the middle of the foyer as you saw him making his way down the stairs. He slowed down when he noticed the glare you sent his way. And when he stopped in the middle of the grand staircase, with you still glaring at him, the guards who were scattered around the entrance noticed. You caught the way they silently got closer and closer, slowly reaching for their guns. 

Good thing you’d brought your own. 

The guards, as well as your father, froze in place the moment you pulled out Bucky’s gun and pointed it at the man responsible for all of this shit. No one made a single sound. No guard moved to even try to disarm you. 

You looked at your hand, which was surprisingly steady as it held the gun. And there, on the side of the shiny metal, you spotted Bucky’s initials. Your heart throbbed in a painful way, but you refused to be emotional right now, even though you needed a good cry after having bottled up your feelings for the last few days. 

You glared at your father, who was still shocked, and asked in a cold tone you’d never used before, “Where’s my husband?” 

Your father frowned. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

You repeated, “Where is he?” 

Your father scoffed, “You’ll shoot your own father? Is this how I raised you?” 

“And you’ll kidnap your own son-in-law? For what? To show that you’re still the shit?” You questioned in a slightly raised voice. 

He sighed like he was disappointed, “You don’t know what–,” 

You cut him off. “We had a deal, right? That these petty attacks would stop after the wedding? That’s why I got married, isn’t it? Because we’re supposed to keep family safe?” 

He was quiet for a moment. Then began talking again, “If I could just get them to–,” 

“Enough!” You sounded just as tired of his bullshit as you were. “Whatever plan you have, just stop!” Then it came spilling out of your mouth, “You were supposed to protect me. All of us,” You said, referring to your older siblings, “Instead you married each of us off in exchange for whatever or whoever was going to benefit you more.” 

He argued, “If this works, you can come back home. Don’t you want that?” 

“No,” You said, and realised you meant it. “This was never home.” You admitted. “He treats me better than my own family ever did. He doesn’t tell me that my art is a waste of time. He doesn’t keep me imprisoned inside his home. He doesn’t choose who I should mingle with and who I shouldn’t. He doesn’t force me to join family businesses because it’ll be good for his image.” You taunted your father. “And he’ll never sell me to the highest bidder.” 

Your father made a sound like he was disgusted. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him?” 

You remained quiet. I care for him, you wanted to say, deeply. But that would be lying, wouldn’t it? Truth was… you did fall for him. His calm voice. His gentle but playful demeanour. His dark humour. His brilliant mind and sharp tongue, always ready to argue and debate. His gentle touch… you loved him. 

“What I do and who I care for is none of your concern anymore.” You concluded, stepping forward and keeping the gun aimed at his face. “Now, where is my husband?” 

The smirk on your father’s face was maddening. “You’ll never find him,” He said. “I’ve hidden him well.” He added.  

You gave him a smirk as well. One which mirrored his. 

“Oh don’t make me do this.” You cooed. “Did you forget all those times you got drunk and confessed all the bad things you did?” You began listing, “All those times you spilled all your little secrets. About our family businesses, about your allies, the lies and betrayal. The bodies that are buried on this very property. The skeletons in your closet.” You gave him a sick, sweet smile. “Imagine if all that information just magically ends up in the ears of your rivals, dad. Imagine the carnage.” 

His smirk disappeared. “You would betray me by siding with them?” He asked in disbelief. 

You were getting tired of this. So you lowered your gun and said, “I am one of them.” 

You walked out without a single glance back at your father, but you could tell he had his jaws clenched in anger. He hated being outsmarted. But his mistake was underestimating you. 

And as for Bucky’s location, well your father gave it away when he said ‘I’ve hidden him well.’ 

There was only one place he believed you knew nothing about since at the time that he told you about it, he was drunk out of his mind as he confessed more of his crimes: the rundown warehouse which he used as a hideout/storage for weapons and arms. 

Your father had always referred to Bucky being a ‘weapon’ so it was only fitting that he would think to hide him there. Thinking no one would find him. 

But you would. 

As you drove to the warehouse, you hoped that the guards were tracking you as you had instructed them to. Because if Bucky was truly there, there was a high chance that there would be some guards, and that Bucky must be injured. And you’d need help getting him out of there. 

Driving to the warehouse, you had silent tears streaming down your face. Not just out of sadness, but also frustration. Fuck, what had your life become? 

The warehouse was a disaster, you realised as you approached it. Large, crumbling, windows boarded up with rotting wood, broken machinery scattered around the outside. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades. And it was exactly the type of structure no one would bother to look twice at. The perfect place to hide illegal things, and son-in-laws you hate. 

There weren’t as many guards as you expected. Which would mean that Bucky was either chained and locked up like an animal, or that he was injured to the point where he was too weak to fight his way out of here. 

Or both. 

You shivered as you got out of your car. The few guards who were around noticed you and one of them began walking faster towards you the more you got closer to the entrance. 

“Miss, you can’t be here. Your father explicitly said no one is allowed–,” 

You scoffed and said, “Oh, I know what he said.” You kept walking. “What will you do? Shoot me?” 

“Miss,” He tried again, “I can’t let you–,” 

You turned towards him and placed the barrel of Bucky’s gun right under the guard’s chin. “You were saying?” 

Then you heard it. A fleet of cars approaching. The guards heard it too. You heard them yelling at one another while the one in front of you remained frozen in place. You smirked at him and said, “Now go play with them.” 

You had just enough time to duck and run inside before the gunshots began. You didn’t stop. The interior of the warehouse was just as dilapidated as the outside, and by the sound of it, there were quite some guards on the roof. Their heavy footsteps as they ran to duck and try to escape the bullets raining down on them echoed inside the empty warehouse. 

It was fairly easy to spot Bucky. But fuck was it painful to see him that way. 

He was chained to the wall, shackles around his wrists and ankles. His body slumped on the ground, his breaths ragged. You could tell he was tired. Perhaps tired of fighting against the chains. You couldn’t hold back your soft sob as you ran to him. 

They had left his muzzle-like mask on him, covering the lower half of his face. The leather jacket and gloves he wore were covered in blood and dirt. A lot of blood. You knelt down in front of him and that’s when you noticed the bullet wound on his thigh. It looked fresh. 

“Bucky?” You called, reaching a hand to touch his face. He was cold to the touch, but stirred at the sound of your voice. “Bucky, come on. Wake up. Please.” You sniffled and inched closer to him, “I’m here, I’m gonna get us out of here, okay?” 

He let out a weak cough. You could barely hear it over the sound of the gunshots outside. 

“Bucky,” You tried to get the chains and shackles off of him, “Come on, wake up. We need to go home.” Your own voice cracked as you felt the silent tears streaming down your face as you were unable to get the shackles off. “Please,” You begged. 

Then as the gunshots outside faded away, you heard Bucky’s faint voice saying, “Use the gun.” 

You turned to face him. “What?” 

He spoke again, his voice raspier than usual and sounding muffled due to the mask. “Shoot at the chains.” 

Your hands trembled just a little as you reached for the gun you had brought. His gun. And you said, “Okay, don’t move.” 

You did. And only missed twice. 

Breaking the chains left the shackles still around his wrists and ankles but that could be dealt with later. You were panicking, wondering how you’d get him out of here but the guards barged in just in time. And you let out a sigh of relief when they ran straight to Bucky and carefully picked him up. 

As a couple of them managed to get Bucky in the backseat of your car, one of them let you know that there was a doctor and his assistants already waiting at home to tend to Bucky. Another one asked you what to do regarding the warehouse. 

“Burn it.” You told him. “I’ll deal with my father later, right now we need to get Bucky home.” 

On the drive home, Bucky kept trying to talk. But he was so weak he could barely get full sentences out. 

“Weren’t you mad at me?” He asked.

You sniffled and said refused to answer that. Instead you said, “Try not to talk. You’ve been shot, we don’t know how much blood you’ve lost,” You rambled. “Let’s get you to the doctor, okay?”  

“S’okay,” He mumbled, “It went through.” 

That only hurt more. “Bucky please, you need to save energy, okay? We’re almost home.” 

“They… shot me with my own gun.” He refused to keep quiet. 

At first you thought his brain was being delirious and making him ramble. Because of the pain, exhaustion, thirst, hunger. But then a weak sound left his mouth. Still muffled by the mask because no one removed it, and it sounded a lot like a very weak, faint laugh. 

“Eros got pierced by his own arrow after all.” He mumbled. 

You held back a sob. Then muttered, “I hate you so much, Bucky Barnes.” 

Another weak laugh. “No, you don’t, wife.” 

Then he passed out cold. 

— 

The next few days which followed Bucky’s rescue went by so fast and so painfully. The medical team kept close watch on him for days. Bucky was in and out of consciousness a lot. All the meds and the exhaustion kept him constantly out cold. 

The nurses and the house staff were constantly around him. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to go into his room. Not yet. You’d linger near the door and the doctors and the staff would constantly update you about his condition, but you never went in. 

Mainly it was because of shame. At what your father had done to him. But also you were still making peace with and processing your own emotions and you couldn’t face him until you were fully ready. What was important was that he was rescued and safe in his home. 

About a week later, the medical team finally left. And promised they would do frequent check ups and told you that Bucky needed a lot of rest. 

And that night, you managed to find the courage to finally step inside Bucky’s bedroom. It was a lot like yours, just larger. The room was dark when you walked in. But the open curtains allowed some light in from the outside. 

Okay. You spoke to yourself as you approached Bucky’s bed. It’s high time you find out who you married. 

Your hands shook a little as you reached for the dim lamp on his bedside table. But you turned it on quickly before you could talk yourself out of it. 

The golden light illuminated the room partly, and there he was. A little bruised, with a cut on his lip. His handsome face made you smile and tear up at the same time. You couldn’t hold back from reaching to touch his face softly, carefully. You ran your knuckles along his cheek and whispered, “There you are, ghost.” 

He stirred. And soon, a pair of sparkling blue eyes look up at you. For a moment you panicked, wondering if he would be upset. But instead he said, “This is cheating.” 

You let out a soft laugh and asked, “How are you feeling? You’ve been asleep for days.” 

“I feel like beating your father up.” He mumbled. 

“Oh, same.” You agreed. Then added, “I’m so sorry for what he did to you.” 

Over the past few days, the guards had gathered what had truly happened the day Bucky went missing. Turns out, he did leave for an assignment but your father and his men had been keeping a close eye on him for days, and since the wedding was supposed to have ended all rivalry, Bucky had his guard down as he entered your father’s territory. And your father had the upper hand for once and took advantage of it. Bucky was cornered, outnumbered and taken. He was kept in that warehouse up until you found him. 

“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered, reaching for your hand on your lap. He gave your hand a soft squeeze and said, “You saved me.” 

You couldn’t look away from Bucky. It felt so intimate to finally be able to see his face. Then rather sheepishly, you asked, “Can I sleep here? I’ll be careful.” He was still injured and in pain, but you just wanted to be close to him. You needed to. 

He smirked, “Come on.” You walked to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers, keeping some distance between you and him. He turned to look at you and said, “Want me to leave the light on?” 

You nodded. And he did. 

— 

A lot changed after that. 

Bucky was healing from his injury and was starting to walk again. Which meant that he was home a lot. He did ‘work’ but it mainly consisted of him ordering people around on the phone. 

Him being at home meant that he followed you around as much as he physically could. He would spend time in your studio, sometimes he’d stay for hours and watch you finish your pieces. He also spent a lot more time with your dog, taking her on short walks and teaching her new tricks. 

He’d stay with you in the kitchen while you baked. He’d go with you whenever you went shopping for supplies. Bucky became your shadow. And consequently, spending this much together made you feel closer than ever to him. 

He became your best friend. 

He also became a lot more… bold. 

—

One night Bucky found you in his bathroom. After that night when you first slept in his bed, you hadn’t gone back to your bedroom. So now, most of your things slowly found their way into his space. Like your night time skin care products. 

Bucky crept up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. 

You met his eyes through the mirror and gave him a smile. “Your limp is nearly gone.” You announced, noticing the way he walked was so much better now. 

He gave you a look which meant nothing but mischief, “And you know what that means?” 

You could already tell where this was going. You immediately turned him down. “Bucky, we cannot. You’re still injured.” 

“But it’s been weeks.” He said it like it was the ultimate torture. “Don’t you miss those nights we spent together? Hmm?” He whispered, leaning in to kiss your neck. He knew it was one of your weaknesses. “Remember how good it feels when I make you come?” 

You sighed, letting him kiss you and hold you for a moment. “Buck… you’re still healing.” 

“Come on, baby,” He cooed, nuzzling your neck, “I’ll make it so good. I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts.” 

You almost gave in the moment he playfully bit your neck, his hands finding the belt of your robe and shamelessly undoing it before sliding in to touch your warm skin. “But,” You tried to find something even though all you wanted was to drag him to bed, “Your stitches…” Your words ended in a soft moan as his metal fingers found their way in between your legs, circling around your clit. 

Bucky growled. Growled. Then said, “Fine, you get to be on top then.” 

You froze, and let out a nervous chuckle. “But I…,” You opened your eyes and met his through the mirror. “I–,” 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He reassured you, remembering the time you told him you’d never done anything with anyone before. “I know.” He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll teach you.” 

And he did. Patiently. 

He took his time in undressing both of you and held your hand in his as he laid down and pulled you on top of him. 

“I’m scared I’ll hurt you.” You murmured. 

He gave you a reassuring smile. “You won’t, baby. Now come on.” 

He watched as you carefully straddled him, settling comfortably around his waist. One hand holding his metal one tightly while the other remained splayed over his chest. 

Bucky looked up at you with nothing but adoration and lust as he tugged on your hand, pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned down gently and pressed your mouth to his. His warm hand immediately rubbed up and down your side lovingly. He pulled away just a little and whispered against your mouth, “We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?” 

You nodded, already breathless. 

“Tell me, baby. What do you want?” 

You told him the one thing you desperately wanted. “I want to touch you.” 

Bucky smirked and supported his upper body up on his elbows, with you still straddling his waist, your core pressing down on his crotch. “Go on then, touch me.” He murmured. 

He watched you intently as you reached out and touched his face first. Bucky’s heart was racing, you could tell by the way he breathed, as your finger slowly trailed down his face, along his neck and down till his abs, so slowly that you could feel his muscles tensing underneath your touch. 

You gave him a teasing smile when you noticed the effect you have on him, and how he couldn’t help but stare at your naked body. 

“Don’t tease me,” He mumbled. 

You chuckled and leaned in to give him a brief kiss before hesitantly wrapping your hand around his cock. Part of the reason why you kissed him while doing it was because you were worried about your lack of experience, so you did it to distract him. 

But he caught it. And wrapped his own hand around yours, making you grip him tighter. You pulled away from the kiss and looked into his pretty eyes. Bucky was breathing heavily. You let his hand guide you as you gave him an experimental stroke, a gentle up and down movement. 

He felt thick and hard, and big. You looked down for a quick minute as you let him continue guiding your hand, lazily stroking his cock, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you looked back up at him and kissed your way down his neck, around the base of his throat, making him gasp in pleasure. 

“See?” He whispered, “You’re learning already.” He said as he slowly let go of your hand and let you touch him on your own. 

You continued exploring this new feeling. He was completely fine with just being there and letting you take your time. And you did take your time, touching him everywhere you could, stroking him as slowly or as quickly as you wanted to. Until he was so close to the edge, eyes rolled to the back of his head, lips parted and occasional moans escaping his open mouth as  pre cum started dripping down his cock. 

Oh he was a sight to behold. But you were getting impatient, and you wanted him in you as soon as possible. So you stopped, earning a groan from him. 

“I want you,” You said. 

Bucky looked like he was barely able to hold back either. “Come on,” He held your hand again, pulled you in for a quick kiss as you straddled him properly. His hand reached down and aligned the tip of his cock to your hole, teasing you with it by sliding it up and down your slit a few times until you were whimpering. “Now sit on it baby come on,” He encouraged you as you began sinking down on him, gasping as his cock stretched you out. “You can do it.” He murmured, breathless as he watched his cock disappear inside you more and more. “That's it. All the way down, come on baby.” 

You were a moaning mess by the time you sunk all the way down, impaling yourself down on his cock. Fuck. You had never felt so full before. So fucking full. 

“You okay, baby?” He asked, holding you by your hips, moving you back and forth just a little bit to create some friction. 

You nodded, moaning at the slight movement. 

“Want me to help you move?” He asked, lips parted and he had that wild look in his eyes.

Fuck, he was beautiful. 

“Yes, please,” You whined, placing your hands on his chest to brace yourself for what was coming. 

He wasted no time. Bucky grabbed you by the hips and helped you move up and down his cock. Your wet warmth wrapped all around him, making him swear under his breath and groan at how good you felt. 

You couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes while you rocked your hips against his. You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and feeling him twitch inside you. 

“Look at you.” He cooed. “Look how well you're taking it.” 

You couldn’t help but lean in to kiss his open mouth. He was so perfect. He was everything you had ever dreamt of, you realised. 

His metal fingers moved to touch your clit while you rode his cock, teasing you and bringing you closer to that edge. It wouldn’t take much. You were so overwhelmed already. 

“Bucky…” You whined, dragging your hands down and pressing both your palms against his toned abdomen, carefully avoiding touching him around his thigh area, where he was shot. 

Bucky watched you, your breasts bouncing gently, lips parted, softly gasping as you got so, so close to the edge. 

And he knew. So he quickened his pace, still moving you up and down his cock while he rubbed your throbbing clit. 

“Baby, I’m gonna need you to come for me, okay?” His voice was low, barely even a whisper. His desperation was quite clear. He began to thrust his hips up even harder, matching your movements.

The air around you got hotter, and that look in his eyes made you want to live in this moment forever. Bucky was the most beautiful mess you’d ever seen. A sweaty, moaning mess under you, messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock. 

You were sure you looked like a mess too as you felt your walls clench around him, gripping him and milking him perfectly. 

“Come for me,” He whispered, “Come on, baby.” 

You came without a warning, crying out loud and impaling yourself down on him one last time as you did. Bucky thrust up into you one last time and came undone as well, both of you breathing hard and fast. 

You carefully got up from his lap and laid down beside him, body limp and slightly sore in between your legs. 

You were still catching your breath as you asked, “Did I hurt you?” You sounded just as worried as you were. 

Bucky chuckled. “I should be the one asking you that.” 

You smiled and snuggled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer. 

“I’m fine, baby.” He said and kissed your forehead. 

You both laid there in silence for a while. 

Cuddling and relishing each other’s warmth, caressing each other’s skin. 

You felt his fingers drawing random shapes on your back as you laid your head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeats against your cheek. You felt the need to ask him, “Why were you so against showing yourself to me?” 

He gave you a soft chuckle. “You just can’t let that go, huh?” 

“Nope.” 

He sighed, pulling you closer. “I was… afraid.” 

You frowned. “Afraid of what?” You pulled away and looked up at him. “Why did you hide this pretty face from me?” You gave him a quick kiss on his chest as you waited for his answer. 

He sighed again. “Everywhere I go, I… whenever people see me up close, it’s already too late. They don’t see a human anymore, they see death staring back at them.” He paused. You remained quiet. He continued. “I see it, you know? In their eyes. When they look at me and plead, or beg, or curse me.” A humourless laugh, then, “After some years of that, I began seeing it in the mirror as well. I saw the same thing they see. After years of brutality, and killing, and spilling blood,” A soft chuckle, “Years of being an evil Eros as you call it, I grew to hate my face.” 

You felt tears forming at your waterline but you couldn’t look away from him. Not when he was being so brave and vulnerable. 

He continued. “And then before our wedding, I looked you up.” He confessed, a little embarrassed. “And you were so beautiful.” He looked you right in the eyes and repeated, “You are so beautiful. I guess, I didn’t want you to look at me and see death, and ugly and all the other dark stuff. I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes, the same one I see in everyone. That look of fear and disgust.” He finally admitted, “So I thought, I’d just hide and be a ghost.” 

“My ghost.” You corrected him, reaching out to cup his chin in your palm. “And I’m gonna need you to never stop haunting me.” You said, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on his lips. “I want you to always be in the shadows. Be with me, even in the dark.” You gave him a smile. “I look at you now and you know what I see? I see a man who treated me with respect. A man who wouldn’t touch me unless I asked for it. A man who gave me so much space for my creativity.” A faint smile, then you added, “You made me fall in love with art all over again, and now everything I paint, I paint with you in my mind.” 

He gave you a smile which both broke and mended your heart. 

“Oh Buck,” You cupped his gorgeous face with both hands and said, “You’re not death, or scary, or any other dark shit. You’re mine, and I love you.” 

He pulled you in for a kiss so quickly you barely processed it. “And I love you.” 

You giggled into the kiss and only pulled away when you were breathless. You kissed your way down his chin and nuzzled his neck, sighing in delight. 

Bucky said, “I think I should retire.” 

“Hmm,” You asked, “And what would you do in retirement?” 

“Watch you paint, raise our dog, adopt some more animals, attend your art exhibitions, and eventually make some babies with you.” He listed it all so easily. 

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed.

[bea0206]

🥵🥵

Kingdom Come

summary: you ask Noah, your Dom best friend, for a big favor.

pairing: sub!fem!reader x dom!noah

word count: 7.4k

THIS IS PURE FICTION!!

warnings: 18+!! BDSM, restraints, slapping/impact play, light degradation, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, p in v, oral (f receiving), subspace

A/N: this was purely self indulgent. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed 🥰

~Berry🫐

Life was kicking your ass. Harder than normal and the weight of the world was getting harder the bear.

Your job sucked, your body ached all the time and the one guy who you thought was going to be it for you, ended up ghosting you. All of it was a slap in the face and it was even worse when your landlord calls you to let you know the water would be off for a couple weeks due to maintenance issues. You guess you could tolerate it since he’s reducing rent during the time that the water will be off.

So, once you find out this information, you’re calling your best friend to see if you can crash there for a while. He had no problem with it. He no longer had roommates and often found himself missing having someone around.

So when you arrived and got yourself situated after a steamy shower to wash the day off, you find yourself sitting beside Noah with a question burning a hole in your tongue.

“I know this idea is out there but,” you choke on the words and realize how ridiculous this sounds.

“What?,” he keeps clicking away at his controller as he played his game, not taking his eyes off the screen. When you don’t answer, he takes a peak over at you and can see you biting your lip so hard it looks like it’ll bleed.

“Stop doing that,” he paused his game and used his thumb to gently pull your lip down from between the grip of your teeth, “What’s going on. It’s just me, Y/N,”

You look to him, twiddling your thumbs and decide it’s all or nothing, if he says no you guys can just forget you ever said anything.

“I need to turn my brain off,” you blurt out.

“Okay?,” he shrugs as if there was nothing to it, “I can have Folio bring some weed by,”

“No, I-,” you throw your face in your hands, cheeks burning as you think about it, “You are in the…. the BDSM scene and I want you to help me turn my brain off,”

His mouth drops in an ‘o’ shape as it clicks what exactly you mean. His hesitation has you feeling so silly. You should have just showered, went home and rubbed one out.

“Sugar, I’m not exactly sure you know what you’re asking for,”

You were his little sugar cube. Too sweet to know exactly what his life entailed behind the scenes. You never really seemed interested in it before. But little did he know, you were just nervous to show it.

He could be mean at the request of his subs during sessions and you were requesting it now but you were his best friend and he didn’t want to cross that line unless you were 110% sure.

“N-no, no I do,”

He’s briefly talked about his sessions enough for it to cause a burning of desire in your gut. You’ve never been in the scene but with the way things are going lately, you just need to be taken care of, to be manhandled and you’d rather do that with someone you trust.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you mumble, humiliated now that you’d expect your hot, dom, best friend to do that for and to you, “I just made a fool of myself,”

The silence that he was giving after your initial ask was gnawing at your emotions, you just wanted to disappear right now.

“Sugar, it would be an honor but if we do this, there’s no going back because I’m going to want you forever,” his words spilled like the smoothest whiskey on the market. Sure, now this sounds like a typical cliche of friends to lovers but what’s wrong with that? Sometimes things like this are meant to become something more. Maybe that’s why long term relationship never worked for either of you… because you two were it for each other?

“Please,” your voice cracks with need. You had showered while he stayed on the couch playing a video game and yet your body is still tense.

“Follow me,” he stands tall before you, extending a hand in which you take easily. You could already feel some tension relieving from simply holding his hand.

He kept his pace slow, easy for you to keep up with as one of his steps equaled three of yours.

He had a spare bedroom that no one was allowed in, not even you and you guys had been friends for almost a decade now. So when he reached above the door to grab the key, you snatched your hand from his and took a giant step back.

“I can’t go in there,”

“Right, without my consent,” he peaked over his shoulder, “But you have that now and then some,”

You looked at him with wary eyes and he dropped his shoulders with a knowing sigh.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” his hands made their way onto your shoulders to deliver a comforting squeeze, “This is the way,”

One of his hands is gently cradling your cheek now and it’s so soothing that you can’t help but lean into it and he notices the way your eyes flutter.

He already knows you’re going to be so good for him tonight.

Noah leans his forehead down to yours and your lips are only a few centimeters a part.

“You trust me… don’t you, Sugar?,”

Immediately weak in the knees, noticing he’s already entering into his persona. You nod feverishly against him.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,”

A gentle peck on your lips has you leaning in for more when he pulls away.

“Take your hands off the wheel and let me drive,” is all he says before turning his back to you to unlock the door.

Time seemed to slow down when he pushed it open, a part of you wanted to close your eyes, still feeling nervous about seeing a space he deemed so private that he kept it locked up. Your hand is in his once more with him pulling you through the threshold as he flicks the light on.

Red fluorescent lights filling your vision.

It smells so good in here and you wonder how, considering what possibly goes down based simply off of what’s in here.

The bed frame looks like one luxurious bird cage, bolted to the floor and a sheer canopy draping over it. There’s bars hanging from the ceiling with cuffs hanging from them.

Open cupboards of different items like floggers, paddles then another filled with masks and gags, one full of toys. There’s a full fridge in here with a clear door and you can see different replenishing beverages and snacks.

This is his sex dungeon

“Something like that,” he spoke aloud.

Realizing your thoughts weren’t kept in your head you avert your gaze to the ground.

“I don’t use it much other than personal uses, any time I have a scene with someone I meet them at theirs. I’ve just been keeping this a secret until I found the one worthy to be in here,”

Your eyes widen as you raise your head to meet his.

“M-me?!,” poking yourself in the chest, “I… you mean me?!,”

His shoulders tremble in soft laughter, shaking his head at your disbelief.

“This entire time, I’ve just been wanting to bring you here but you never expressed any interest in the scene,” he played with your fingers in his grasp, something he always found comfort in doing.

“I didn’t know if you’d take me seriously. I’m not exactly… what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive,”

“You’re exactly what comes to mind,” he brings you to a plush crimson couch, covered in velvet material. When your ass meets the cushions, he’s reaching to a table beside you to light a candle, bringing it over with him as he lowers himself into his knees before you.

“I’m going to go over a few house rules while I get you relaxed okay?,”

You offer a simple nod and he smirks,

“Rule number one- I always need a verbal answer. I don’t want to leave anything to the imagination and possibly misread body language, got it?,”

Swallowing thickly you nod once more, “I understand,”

“Good girl,” his hands make their way onto your calves, kneading the tight muscles, causing an involuntary moan in which you try to subdue.

“Number two, don’t be shy,” he says plainly, “I know this is new but you know me and I’m here to keep you safe so don’t shy away from me. Be as vocal and as emotional as you need to be,”

“I understand,” you answer once more. Your eyes watch his hands, curious when he picks up the candle, the flame flickering in his eyes.

“Three. Trust that I will never hurt you outside of what you ask for,” he tips the candle and a quiet gasp leaves your lips, quickly turning into a moan when the wax drips onto your tired legs, Noah instantly setting the candle down and massaging it into your skin.

“Pheromone massage candles,” he answered your unasked question.

“Four. I usually go by King during these scenes but since this is new for you I don’t want you to feel detached from me so call me Noah until you feel comfortable, okay?,”

“Y-yes,” your eyes cross slightly while his thumbs work into the sore soles of your feet. This was helping so much and just from this simple interaction, your core is buzzing already.

“Five. If you need to stop or directions are not okay or unclear- speak up. I’m going to need you to pick a safeword for me,”

You squirm on the couch, becoming putty in his hands as they move from your feet to your calves and now your thighs.

“Kingdom,” you answer with ease, if he goes by King might as well make it coordinate right?

“Good one,” he plants a kiss by your knee, “Rule six, no negative self talk or thoughts. I may degrade you but I will always follow it up with praise. You are loved and cared about, you understand me?,”

“I understand,” you nod.

“Seven. Have fun and let go. We are here together so remember I will always catch you,”

With his last rule he spreads your thighs, squeezing them to get a reaction out of you.

“Do you have any rules for me?,” eyes dark yet caring in the red glow.

“Don’t hold back,” an embarrassing whimper escapes, “I know I’m a rookie but I can take it and I know you’ll take care of me just…,”

Your hands grab his, holding them tight so he knows how bad you need this.

“Just don’t hold back. I need it, I know I’m safe so I just need you to hurt me, I need you to help me turn my brain off and surrender myself to you,”

Your words from earlier echoed in Noah’s head and he thought they were a crock of shit.

I’m not exactly what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive

Bullshit. You were perfect.

He wipes his hands on a towel that he kept on the table with the candle, setting it and the candle back in their original spot when he was finished.

His hands are now sheltering your face because he can see your mind is still running a million miles a minute.

“What do you need from me right now?,”

You were embarrassed to say it.

“What were rules 2 and 7, Sugar?,” his voice pulled you from your own thoughts.

“To not be shy and to let go,”

He nodded in understanding, “So why are you breaking my rules and overthinking?,”

God, he was so good at this. The twinge of disappointment in his tone had your heart aching, you wanted to be good.

“Can.. c-can you smack me?,” your voice was barely a whisper and you knew he wouldn’t let that slide.

“Speak up, baby. Closed mouths don’t get fed,” his thumbs were rubbing such comforting circles on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but oblige.

“I need you to smack me,” it wasn’t a plea, it was a declaration.

Noah just reads your face. Studying your expression to see if there’s any doubt, any hesitation. He stands you up and then he leans in to kiss you with a sort of need that you’ve never been kissed with before. You two are breathing heavily in between and you can barely keep up. Your hands tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, just wanting him to consume you.

He pulls away but before you can protest, you feel the searing heat of his open palm meeting your cheek. A gasp of surprise comes from you and yet again you’re left with no time to react when he does it again.

“Fuck,” you mewl, “More,”

He answers your demand with a little more power behind this one, the pain feeling so good you almost fall to your knees but luckily, he held you upright.

“Turn it off,” he says through clenched teeth, smacking you once more. If you were naked you know for a fact you’d be dripping down your legs, “Turn it off, Sugar. I see you trying,”

Hand on your neck, he’s pushing you backward and each step is another slap until he pins you to the wall, you can feel your eyes burn as the tears of desire being to rise.

You need this so bad.

“I said. Turn,” a harder slap, “It. Off!!,” with one more smack, you’re practically howling at how exceptional it felt, eyes closed as you welcome the sting that lingered on your flesh, feeling the heat running down to your neck and up to your temples.

Your head feels like you’re in limbo and when you open your eyes, he can see the change in yours and you can see the change in his.

You’re both in your designated positions. He has his hands on the wheel now. Your brain was off and the part of you that needed to be taken care of has entered the chat, the stressed version was locked away in a dark cell of your mind and would stay there until it was time to let her out.

“There she goes,” his hand soothed your cheek and you were liquid in his hands

“Thank you,” doe eyes shining up at him, he feels so proud of himself.

“Oh baby, it’s my pleasure,” he cooed, “Can you be good and undress for me?,”

“Can you help?,” your body was feeling fuzzy, like you had a few shots and were floating now. You felt like if you tried to undress yourself you’d topple over.

“Of course,” he felt gratified to be asked.

One article of clothing at a time until you were bare in front of him, pinned against the crimson paint on the wall.

“How are we doing? You okay?,” a kiss planted to your neck, his large hands running up and down your body had you sighing in content.

“On cloud nine,” you answer dreamily. You were in a daze, this room felt like your own amusement park now.

A room you once weren’t allowed in because this is his sanctuary. How many others were close to being brought here? How many others did he put in a hypnotic state?

“Put her away,” his gruff voice echoed in your ears, “She doesn’t get to come back. Lock it away,”

He could tell through your body language that you were starting to overthink again.

“Do we need to stop?,”

“No,” rearing back to look him in his eyes so he can see how bad you truly need and want this, “No. It’s turned off,”

“That’s what I need to hear,”

He brings you back over to the couch you were on a few minutes ago but this time he’s sitting on the cushion and he’s positioning you over his lap.

“Think you can handle a few spanks?,”

“Uh huh!,” excitement coursing through your veins, body jolting when you feel his lips press against the supple flesh that he was soon about to tenderize.

But first, he had to feel you. He has to feel your wetness coat his fingers. So his fingers trace figures on the back of your thighs and you’re jutting your ass up to get him to touch you, he delivers a light smack as a warning.

“Patience,” is all he speaks. Slowly but surely, his middle finger swipes your clit and lightly presses into your entrance.

He pulls a long drawn out moan from you when he fully pushes his finger inside. A quiet growl emits from his chest and your toes are curling.

“Noah pleeeeaaase,” you grip his calves, eyes rolling at his slow movement of removing his finger and reinserting it.

“What do you need, Sugar?,” you could hear the smile in his tone. The way he was speaking to you and touching you just made the anxiety melt away.

“Wanna feel your fingers. Always wanted to feel your fingers,” you couldn’t help but be unapologetically honest. For years you’ve watched his hands and how he talks with them, how he uses them to hold multiple things at once, how he sucks on them when he gets ice cream or ranch on them.

But until now you’ve always buried your desires deep.

“Oh yeah?,” without a warning, he’s stretching you open and you’re bracing yourself against his thighs, spreading your legs as open as possible so you’re not falling off his lap.

“You feel so good, Sugar,” he affirms, “So wet for me, so fucking warm,”

His fingers were reaching so deep it was intoxicating, never having experienced anyone with fingers as long as his has you going cross eyed.

“Thank you, Noah!!!,” your walls pulsing around his middle and ring fingers while his free hand soothed your ass cheeks before taking a big strike against them, the sound of his palm meeting your flesh bouncing off the walls.

“You’re so welcome, baby,” he picks up the pace of his fingers and he can feel the way you’re trying to get friction on your clit.

“Nuh uh,” he spanks you once more, “Be good, take what I give you,”

“Please,” singing a beautiful tune, you just want to let go for him, you want to crumble in his lap, you want him to feel what he does to you.

“Please what?,” another strike on your ass and another curl of his fingers inside you.

“W-wanna cum for you,”

“Is that right?,” there’s that teasing tone again, it makes you feel small but it only tightens the coil in your core. He moves his fingers with expertise inside of you and you think you’re about to orgasm strictly off of penetration which is rare for you. You almost always need clitoral stimulation.

“Please. Please. Wanna be good for you, wanna let go for you,”

You two have only just begun and you’re already a mess. You can hear the squelching, you can hear your heart thumping in your ears, you’re trembling.

You’re a fucking mess in his grasp.

“I think we should make your first one easy enough to earn,” he observed, positioning his knee right under your pelvis, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his fingers stroked the deepest depths of you.

“C‘mon, Sugar. Give it to me. Let it out,”

Your nails are digging into his calf and you’re drooling, rocking back into him but he didn’t mind this time, he’s enjoys seeing how desperate you are to cum, not just for yourself but for him.

You want to offer all you can to him. All of your emotions, all of your whimpers and cries, your mind, body and spirit.

“I’m gonna… can I cum, Noah? Please”

He gives a hum of approval and he can feel it, he watched your body swell with a deep breath and watched it deflate as you let out the most beautiful, guttural moan he’s ever heard.

His fingers halt their movements inside of you and he makes sure to rub your back to bring you back down.

“You’re okay,” a soft murmur leaves his lips while he slowly removes his fingers from your soaked hole, sitting you up and repositioning you in his lap so you’re straddling him.

“Be good and open for me,”

You follow his directions and bask in the glory of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, making you taste yourself. You collect your flavor but before you can close your mouth and swallow it down, he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

Your eyes instantly roll in the back of your head, relishing the taste of his mouth sharing the taste of you.

“Need you,” you pull away, hands cupping his face as if he’s made of glass, “Always needed you,”

His gaze softens for a moment, letting you know that ‘regular’ Noah hears you, that it’s not just his persona hearing those words.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he purred, “You have me, Sugar. Just as I have you,”

With ease, he lifts you up and walks with you to the cupboards.

“Pick a toy, a gag and a restraint and come to the bed when you’ve made your decision,” a kiss is given to your temple and he walks away, leaving you to make your choices without any pressure. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and makes his way to the bed.

He has so many trinkets to choose from. He just stock piled all of this stuff until he found the one? He really is a stickler for this kind of thing.

After some careful self-deliberation, you grabbed your chosen items and made your way over to him. Noah sat patiently within the doorway of the cage-like bed.

“I chose these,” you offer them to him and he gave an intrigued ‘hmph’

A rose, a silicone bar gag and wrist-to-thigh cuffs.

“Good choices, baby” standing up and kissing your forehead, he moves out of the way so you can see the bed. Silk red sheets, chains hanging from the bars, and the sheer canopy keeping secrets in with just a glimpse of what was to come.

“Climb up,” he pats your ass and you do just that, at a leisure pace so he can get a good view of you from behind. When you sit flat, you see him entering and closing the door behind him.

This feels much more intimate than just any ole bedroom. The lighting, the enclosed space, all of it made you feel closer to Noah.

“Before we start, take a drink for me,”

“But I’m okay,”

“Did I ask that?,” he tilts his head, eyes squinting as if to tell you ‘watch it.’

“I’m sorry,”

He cracks open the bottle and holds it to your lips, giving you a knowing look as if to say ‘I told you so’ when you drink down half the bottle.

When you’re finish he sets it to the side and hovers over you until you’re laying back on your elbows, eyes not leaving his.

“How are we doing? You still okay?,”

“I’m perfect, Noah,” a tender smirk made its way into your face, “I know I’m safe,” you assure.

“Are you okay? I know this kind of thing takes time, just don’t want you to feel pressured,” you inquire.

“There you go overthinking,” he kisses your neck, “For you, it’s easy to turn on. You never took notice to how I always took control? No matter what we did?,”

He’s got a point. Any time you two went out grocery shopping because you were anxious and didn’t want to go alone, he hooked his arm with yours, took your list and did all the shopping. Any time you two went out to the movies, he’s picking your snacks and drinks and doing all the talking. A hand on the small of your back each time you two were out, always helping you zip up your dresses or fastening your necklaces.

It was subtle, but it was always there.

“I was made for you. I was made to take care of you,” he continues his trail of kisses, planting them wherever he pleases, “And you let me. Which means you were always mine,”

A relaxed sigh is released at his words. He’s right and you know it.

“So, knowing this. I’m more than okay and am filled with joy of knowing that I get to break you and put you back together again, over and over,”

Bucking your hips up wasn’t a good idea, considering he pinned them down and got your restraints ready.

“I need this. Noah, please I need you” a shameful cry bounces off the bars of the enclosure you found yourself in.

“I know,” he growled, fastening your hands into the cuffs and attaching the other bands to each thigh. With your hands tied to your thighs now, you wouldn’t be able to touch him.

“You need me to wreck you. To hurt you so that the stressors of your everyday light aren’t plaguing your brain for once,”

He squeezes your cheeks so your lips are parted and lifts your head up to move your hair out of the way so he can tighten the gag.

You looked so beautiful like this.

“I’m here to give you just that,” he grabs the rose, “I don’t care how many orgasms it takes. I’m going to reduce you to nothing and fill you back up with worth again. I will end you and resuscitate you over and over again until you’ve had enough. Is that understood?,”

“Yeth,” you slur around the gag.

“Good,” on his knees, between your legs, he turns the rose on and the low hum fills the space, he leans forward to spit on your nipples before placing the opening of the toy over your harden buds, your back swiftly arching off the bed with a moan around the silicone.

He’s at this for a while, just teasing your nipples, biting at your jawline, groaning in your ear until you’re leaking onto the silk sheets.

You’re begging around the gag but he just teasingly looks at you as if he can’t understand you. But he knows. He knows where you need him.

“It’s a lot, are you sure you can handle it on your clit?,” he smirks so devilishly it’s almost scary. But the twinge of fear makes you ache.

“Mmhmm mmhm!,” already drooling around the bar, you nod feverishly, just wanting to feel something, no, needing to feel something.

You get what you desire when he sits back up on his heels to spread your legs even wider to get a perfect view of your swollen clit, glistening as your arousal is painted all over your core.

When he finally attaches the toy to your clit, your toes are curling, your eyes are rolling and your back is arching.

Maybe you weren’t ready for this, maybe you should have gotten a wand or something.

“Relax,” he says simply, using his own legs to pin yours down.

“Breathe, Sugar. Just breathe. Look at me,” he sees the way your eyes are swimming with tears and it brings him satisfaction, especially when your chest is trembling from him keeping the buzzing toy on your sensitive bundle.

“It’s a lot, I know but I wouldn’t give you more than you could handle,”

He slowly inhaled with you, guiding you to calm you down but it was just too much, so much that you’re already cumming and groaning behind the gag which causes Noah to darkly chuckle.

But he keeps it there. He keeps the rose there and you’re convulsing under him when he sinks his fingers into your messy core.

“That was pathetic,” he looked into your eyes, “And you didn’t even ask,”

He got so much amusement out of your whimpers, how the hell were you supposed to ask with a gag in your mouth?! But maybe that’s the point? It’s a set up for him to milk you as a form of torture.

It was sadistic but, you were the masochist after all.

“You’re so creamy,” he said in a daze, absolutely obsessed with the way you’re painting his fingers, your walls pulsing around his appendages as if they’re trying to draw them in and keep them there.

“Noaaaaaaahh!!,” your cries muffled, your face so wet from the tears and the spit but Noah finds it beautiful, if he could, he’d paint how you looked right now and frame it, get it tattooed even.

“You can do it. You asked for this, remember?” His eyes rolled at the feeling of his fingers deep inside, drenched in your offering, his tattoos glistening, catching his eye in the ruby lighting. He just wanted to be bottomed out in you already.

You’re calling for him from around the gag, breasts shaking as you’re overcome with yet another blinding climax. Your nails dig into your thighs, just wanting to dig them into Noah’s instead and pull him toward you. You wanted him, you craved him.

“Sshhhh. You’re okay, Sugar. You’re doing so well for me,” he picked himself up off your legs and grabbed a rag to wipe the spit that dribbled down your chin, “I’m gonna turn you over, need you to give me one more before you have me. One more and we can take the cuffs and gag off okay?,”

Sitting you up, his hand supporting the back of your head as he checks over you, making sure you’re okay.

“Do you need anything? A break, water?,” he breaks character for a moment

With a verbal “Nuh uh” behind the bar, you let him position you like a Barbie, letting him move your legs, manually arching your back and propping a pillow under your head so you were comfy and could breathe.

You feel him leave open mouthed kisses on your ass, biting the pillowy skin just to hear you hum in delight.

“Can’t wait to give you what you want,” Noah positions himself under you so he can stare right up at your leaking heat, no matter the angle, it was a mesmerizing sight to see, “But first, I just need to taste you.”

He exasperated in desperation before using his hands to grab your ass, bringing you down and lifting his head to feast.

Your fists are clenching in your restraint and your moans are flowing from your chest like a river. His tongue worked your overstimulated clit, suckling and licking. He ate as if you were the finest delicacy, trying to savor but also consuming you with greed.

Your body just responded to him without a fight, you were his puppet and he pulled the strings but you happily danced for him, giving him what he wanted. Yet again you feel his fingers push into you, you’d never get enough of his fingers, he knew how to use them and he knew how to use you. You were a howling mess against the pillow when you feel your next orgasm approaching. How did he expect you to stay up like this? Your legs felt like jelly and you were falling a part.

“You can do it, baby. I feel it. You’re almost there,” he murmured against your pussy, “One more and you can have what you want but you gotta show me you want it,”

Oh God did you want it, and bad! Your head felt fuzzy, your body was playing tug of war, fighting between it being too much versus you wanting it.

You gave in. Pussy pulsing, chest burning from hyperventilating and muscles aching. Despite it all, you’re cumming for him again, giving into your deep craving to just be his doll.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” he cheers, drinking you in. He pulls himself away to position you on your back, quickly working to remove your restraints and gag.

“Sit up for me, Sugar,”

Your head lulling to the side, both of you giggling about it. He has you drink some more water and cleans your face with the towel again.

“I’m ready,” it was a simple whisper, “Show me what I’ve been missing. Please, King,”

The title takes Noah by surprise. He thought it would take a few sessions to get you fully under his spell but, you truly were for him. You were ready to bow to him, to fulfill every quest he bestowed upon you.

It kind of pulled at his heart strings. Whenever he was out in the scene he only cared about showing the subs a good time, a time for him and them to release and never see each other again. But this, this was euphoria.

“Lie down for me,” he hums, taking off his lounge wear and boxers so he’s bare just like you are.

He was a beautiful man to begin with but to see him like this in all his glory? It had you feeling like royalty. Others got to see him, yes, but you… only you get to see him.

He makes sure you’re comfortable before he inches forward, the tip nudging your clit and he grabbed your hands when you flinched away at the contact, lacing his fingers between yours.

“Don’t run away from me,” his lips were so plump, glistening with his spit and you just know they still taste like you.

“Call it before I ruin you,” he gave you one more chance.

“Do it” it wasn’t a teasing phrase. You wanted it. You have yearned long enough and now your wish is his command. His pins your clasped hand to the bed and takes your free hand, guiding it to his cock.

“Take it,” he ordered.

He was a perfect mix of girth and length, a mouth water red tip that shines with precum, two prominent veins, yeah- he was going to destroy you.

You couldn’t help but stroke him, watching the way his mouth hung open and his eyes closed gently, this is the face of a King all right. Scooting closer to him, not wanting to leave any space, you slapped his tip against your own clit, the breath of both of you hitching in tandem. The noises that emitted from between the two of you, while you rubbing him against your entrance, were sinful.

“Show me what you’ve been wanting. Show me how bad you need me,” he growls, hiking both of your legs around his waist.

You guide him into you slowly, the eyes of both of you going wide, rejoicing in the way he fit in you like a missing puzzle piece, filling you up to make you whole.

“Fuck!,” choking on your own spit, the heels of your feet pulled him in so he could bottom out. You needed to catch your breath because you know once he gets started, you’ll lose it again. He drew in a shaky breath, bewitched by how good you feel.

“Give it to me,” you squeeze his hand, “Make me yours. I want to be yours. Ple- Oooooh fuck!!,”

His hips drew back and snapped into you, cutting you off as the pleasure drowns you. He kept the stacattoed pace, just taking in your expressions.

But then he saw the way you looked at him, it was a look of complete surrender, a look that says “I love you, I trust you”

It was a look to tell him to let go.

So, he used his free hand to take your thigh and press it back so your knee was almost touching your chest. This wasn’t Noah, the King was here and he was going to show you exactly why he was given that title.

You’re pinned beneath him from all angles and it’s overwhelming. His chain dangling in your face with each thrust, his voice smooth like suede as he talks you through it.

“Just like that, pretty girl. Take what I give you,”

Your moans slipped out like a hot knife to butter, he was fucking you through the mattress, bodies tangled and noises echoing through the room, he was making you melt.

“S-so fucking good!!,” the tears were spilling from your eyes and he just kissed them away without missing a beat.

“I know, Sugar,” he bows his head into your neck to leave a trail of bites, sinking his teeth into your dewy skin, your cries of surprise being music to his ears. You welcomed the pain of his biting, he had beautiful teeth and you always wondered what it would feel like for him to bite you. You don’t care if any marks are left. You’re his, he can leave marks for you to brandish all he wants.

“I’m so proud of you,” he grunted into your ear, “Coming to me all vulnerable, wanting me to take care of you and now you’re taking it like the good little slut you always wanted to be,”

“Please!,” your free hand tangles in his hair, your other makes crescent shaped dents in the back of his hand that held yours, “Please, fuck! Don’t stop!,”

Noah lifts his head to see the spaced out look in your eyes, half lidded and dick drunk. He never thought he’d see you like this.

“Please what? Use your words,” he pulls back from you to watch the look of despair on your face when he slows down.

Your words are caught in your throat, finding it hard to make a coherent sentence.

“Please, what, Sugar? Don’t make me ask again” He lets your leg go to grab the bar of the caged bed above your head, preparing to pick up his pace when you admit what you need.

“W-wanna cum around your cock,” it was a strong wail, one of pure carnal desire.

“You need it that bad?,” he teases.

“King, please. I need it so bad!!,”

The wind is knocked out of you as he sets his pace, rolling his hips, the tip of his cock rubbing against every sensitive spot within you, causing you both to be vocal. A harmony unmatched. His whimpers fueling you to make it to the finish line. He wasn’t ashamed of the noises he made, especially because he saw how they impacted you.

He let go of your hand and smacked you just like he did earlier, eyes rolling once again as the heat only adds to the pleasure.

“More, please, please, please!!,”

“Such a dirty fucking slut. Getting off to her King slapping her around like a rag doll,” he smacked you again, earning another loud cry from you, he could feel just how much you love it, he can feel it when you clench around him each time his hand meets your cheek.

“Yes, yes,” your eyes never left his, not shying away.

“You like it when it hurts?,” another slap delivered, “You like it when it hurts knowing I’ll make it all better?,”

“Fuck!,” the tears just keep spilling but he knows they’re tears of release, of pleasure, they’re tears for him. Another offering to the King.

“I’m gonna make it all better, Sugar. Just keep being good and taking it, okay?,”

“Y-yes,”

He grabs your cheeks, squishing them together again so his tongue can slide in your mouth effortlessly. Teeth clashing, spit being swapped, the energy between you two was potent, a potion that you’d keep coming back for, drinking it down without being asked.

“I wanna cum for you,” biting his bottom lip, you pull back with a fucked out smirk on your face, “I wanna make a mess. I wanna show you that I’m worthy,”

“I already know that you are, baby,” his thumb tracing small circles onto your clit, his other releasing the bar and coming to wrap around your neck, “I know you’re my pretty little slut who will do anything to stay in my good graces,”

When his hand began to squeeze at your neck you were done for. Your moans came out in tremors, you were clutching onto him in anywhere you can. You groan at the loss of contact on your clit until his thumb is replaced with the same toy he wrecked you with earlier.

“You’re gonna take this toy from me. You’re going to be a good girl for your King and make yourself cum on my cock. You hear me?,” his voice was dangerously low now, letting you know there was no negotiation.

With a shaking hand you snake your hand between the two of you, grabbing the bulbous toy from him and holding it against yourself despite your body telling you to pull away.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he assures, a soft kiss placed on your lips, “Just focus on me. I’m right here,”

He was so close now. One hand on your throat and the other holding the back of your head, pressing your foreheads together.

“My King,” you gasp, chest heaving as you feel yourself ready to fall off the edge.

“I’m gonna catch you. I’m always going to catch you, baby,”

Your eyes stared deeply into his and you just sobbed, needing this more than anything and you just cried. Getting fucked within an inch of your life so good you’re crying was not something you expected to happen considering your past endeavors with men who only cared about getting their own rocks off.

“I know. I know,” he’s still driving his hips deep into you and you’re circling the toy lightly on your swollen, cum soaked bud, you were almost there.

“Give it to me, Sugar. Give me what you owe me,”

And that was all she wrote.

With one deep gasp to fill your lungs he delivers a strong thrust, your fingers trembling around the toy so hard you accidentally turned it up to the next level and you were done for.

You practically screamed as Noah siphoned your orgasm out of you. You were shuddering beneath him as he kept thrusting, still talking you through it.

“You’re okay. You did so good for me, I’m right here. Fuck!”

With one last searing kiss, Noah is stilling his movements, emptying himself inside of you, both of you practically giving each other mouth to mouth CPR as you try to catch your breath. His head has fallen in the crook of your neck and your eyes are fighting to stay open.

“You can come back down now. Come back to me,” he mutters.

You slowly regain all your senses back. Taking in your surroundings and what just happened. As everything hits you, your cries echo in the room.

“Hey,” Noah is quick to sit both of you up and set you in his lap, “What’s going on in that head of yours?,”

Swallowing your cries and wiping your eyes you search for him, eyes connecting, the same beautiful brown eyes you could point out in any crowd.

“Thank you,” is all you say, “I needed that. More than you know,”

He smiles in relief, worried that the scene had somehow upset you.

“We got to get you cleaned up. We’ve got some aftercare to do and some things to talk about,”

Once both of you were all bathed, Noah took the time to moisturize your skin, apply soothing lotion to your ass and even being gentle in doing your skincare routine for you.

Once he has you curled up in his bed, he went to go clean the other room and brought back some snacks and water with electrolyte packets.

He takes it upon himself to feed you all while affirming how good you were. That you’re loved and cared for, not wanting to leave any room for doubt to sneak in.

“You okay to talk?,” he questions.

You sit up against the headboard, worried about what this talk can pertain to.

“I see the cogs turning, relax,” he soothes, “If you want this like I want this we need to talk,”

“I want this,” you answer definitively. He can’t help but laugh at your excitement.

“I know it’s a little too late to say that I don’t want to rush into things but, I’d like to rewind a bit and start at square one,”

“And that is?,”

“A date,” he answers simply. Sure you’ve gone on friend dates all the time but this is different, this is serious, “I want to build it from the ground up. I know we’ve been friends for ages and have built trust but this is different and I want to build a stronger foundation because I want this to work,”

You take in his words, listening as he goes over his requests and needs for the relationship. You gave him your own list of demands and found yourselves giddy at the fact that yes, you two are a living cliche.

But who cares?

It was you and Noah against the world now.

Til Kingdom Come.

This idea was burning in my head for ages and I had to write it!!

Please be sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, thank you for your support!! 🥹

~Berry 🫐

tags: @lma1986 @thisbicc @theroyaldixon @whatitsdecending

[bea0206]

mistletoe

a/n: thanks for helping me distract myself from everything that's happened these past few weeks ৎ୭

polls for the story: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

summary: while spending the holidays for the first time with your boyfriend’s family, you and his stepfather finally snap and a romance ensues. 

warnings:  boyfriend's stepdad!bucky barnes x reader x peter parker, smut, christmas stuff, major age gap (y/n is a uni student and bucky is in his 40-50's), college au, forbidden romance, cheating, established relationship, bucky has a tattoo sleeve instead of the metal arm, lawyer!bucky, dubcon, the classic "stuck under the bed" trope, clothed x naked, polyamory, threesome, kissing, dirty talk, public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, spit kink, masturbation, mutual masturbation, oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, bondage, blindfold, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 8687

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

When you five minutes earlier had snatched up the spare key hidden in the flowerpot on the frosty front porch of your boyfriend’s house, the last thing you’d expected to happen next, once you’d tip-toed inside the vacant abode, was the unfortunate entanglement you found yourself in presently.

Trotting up to Peter’s room, not long passed after you’d set down your bag, your mind scrambling for the best spot to plant yourself in to pose perfectly for the surprise you were about to spring on him, that the phone in your palm tumbled out of your grasp and in the hectic flickering that crackled through your senses, your foot accidentally bumped against the device and sent it soaring under the bed that stood in the middle of the room. 

Through the grumbles that swiftly flowed from your lips, you sank down to your knees on the hardwood and twisted your head downward to grant you the perspective needed to spot the still glowing screen in the dusty darkness. 

Soon half of your body had disappeared beneath the bed as you stretched an arm up as high as your reach would let you, though as the tip of your tongue peaked out past your lips and you tried to squeeze yourself further into the dark, only a whisper of your touch managed to graze against the phone’s smooth edge. 

However, when the bright idea hit you to try and find a long item to help you scoop it closer to you, a sharp sting of resistance met your scalp as you reeled to try and crawl back out. 

“Fuck!” you hissed as your right hand soared up to the clump of hair at the crown of your head that had somehow gotten snagged on the underside of the bed frame. 

As you continued to yank and tug without prevail, dread slowly began to settle within your being before a creak suddenly found your ears and washed away some of the flickering panic. 

“Oh, thank god you’re here!” you squeaked from under the bed at the person in the doorway, presumably the guy whose bed you were trapped under, “baby, I–,” an airy giggle couldn’t help but seep out and filter through your sentence as you said, “this isn’t how it was supposed to go, I was gonna lay down on your bed or something, all dramatically, and surprise you, but now none of that matters because I’m stuck,” you laughed at your pitiful situation, your bottom barely covered in your short skirt as it wiggled up at him, “Peter, please, just help me out. I wanna kiss you, I haven’t seen you in two months.”

Though your boyfriend didn’t utter a word as the floorboard groaned beneath each of his steps, slowly crossing the room till you felt his presence behind you.

“It’s my hair,” you muttered, your hand still curled up by your head, “I don’t know if there’s like a nail or whatever’s going on under here, but it’s caught on something, and I can’t get it free.”

Gently, you felt his hand reach under the bed till it was gliding up the back of your neck. Slipping your fingers down to his, the skin felt much more rough and calloused than you remembered, though you swiftly shrugged that observation off as you guided his touch up to the imprisoned strand. 

As he attempted to break you free, his body couldn’t help but slope down against yours in order to reach your hair, and as you unconsciously wiggled beneath him at every futile attempt, you felt a hardness begin to grow and press up against your ass. 

A giggle couldn’t help but slip from your lips as you noticed, “aw, baby. I’ve missed you too,” you rolled your hips and offered him a purposeful grind, “you just gotta get me out of here and then I’ll let you do whatever you want to me… promise…”

But as soon as you’d intentionally rocked back against him, his grasp in your hair began to slacken and melt away till he let his touch travel down the slope of your spine, ghosting across your curves till his fingertips tickled along the bottom hem of your skirt. 

His warmth then disappeared from your frame as he sat back further behind you. Ever since you left your dorm room this morning, an excited spot bloomed and decorated your panties in anticipation of your sinful schemes, though now, hours later, the soaked patch that adorned the cotton that poked out from under your skirt, completely visible to the man behind you, had grown to a nearly embarrassing declaration of your desperation.

Slowly and almost hesitantly, he let his touch ghost over your covered core, catching you off guard by the tickling gentleness that your boyfriend hadn’t had to initiate with for the longest time as you’d both grown too comfortable with each other not to simply be bold in your actions, but this felt as if he was touching you for the very first time, as if he thought you were made of the purest porcelain. 

A heavy breath shuttered out of your frame as his light touch grazed over your covered core, slowly swiping up and down the drenched gusset. Eyes fluttering shut, you quietly joked, “you watch too much porn,” your words came out sounding hazy as the cliché fantasy got to you too, “if you really want to reenact this genre, then I’d much rather do the version with a washing machine and then just pretend that I’m stuck in there, that’s a much less dusty version, plus I wouldn’t actually be trapped.”

But as his tentative touch kept up, you couldn’t help but tilt back into it and feel yourself sink further into the ecstasy.

Soon his fingers hooked in the sliver of cotton as he tugged the gusset to the side, glistening strings of your want clinging to the fabric as he exposed your cunt to him, and as then his touch brushed over you without any barrier to dull the sensation, a breathy moan tumbled out of your lungs. 

Lightly, he rolled your puffy pearl beneath the rough pads of his fingers, the slick sounds of your nectar sloshing and echoing throughout the bedroom as he tickled at your core. 

And when his digits stopped resisting the tempting twitch of your entrance and they plugged it up so perfectly it made your toes curl, you soon found yourself moving even more desperately than his own efforts caressed you as you fucked yourself back onto his fingers in a rock so erratic that the movements ended up being your saving grace as your lock of hair pulled free. 

A dizzy smile found your lips as you finally regained the ability to shift your head without an excruciating sting ripping at your scalp. Though just before you reached your peak, you twisted your head to glance back over your shoulder. Your eyes swiftly widened and your efforts ceased as the man whose fingers were making your drooling pussy sing wasn’t who you had assumed. 

“O-oh fuck!” you quickly scrambled out from under the bed and jolted away out of pure shock as you came face to face with your boyfriend’s stepdad, “Mr Barnes!”

But just as his lips hesitantly parted in a reply, the front door downstairs slammed and caused you to shoot up to your feet, Bucky rising as well. With your chest heaving in your hazy periphery, you could barely think before your palms began to shove at the older man’s broad frame, till he crossed the threshold of the bedroom and his feet began to carry him the rest of the way down the hall till you watched from the doorway as he disappeared into a different room. 

And with the soft click of that door closing behind him, the creaking on the grand staircase suddenly ceased and your eyes snapped over to find Peter frozen at the top step. 

“Oh my god, babe!” he exclaimed, a wide grin swiftly warming up his features, “what are you doing here?” his feet shuffled towards you before his arms enclosed around your form, “why aren’t you at school? I thought you had exams till next Friday.”

Still in shock as you felt your pussy leak down your thighs, “I managed to get done early,” you tried to mirror your boyfriend’s smile as he pulled back to look at you, “surprise!” 

When you last year had found yourself a little internship at the most prestigious law firm in town, it hadn’t come as a surprise to you just how many of the middle-aged men working there shamelessly flirted with you as you brought them their coffees. However, what you hadn’t expected in the slightest was Mr Barnes. 

Though his attempts were much more subtle than the rest, they in no way had the same effect on you as they didn’t make you squirm as the others did, but instead every time you tip-toed past his corner office and he so much as offered you a glance, you felt yourself spiral into a blushing mess and morphed into nothing short of a flustered schoolgirl.

Numerous scorching trays of coffee were nearly dropped, sentences embarrassingly stumbled through, as well as many other minor casualties in the carnage created when the lawyer would flash you a rare smile. 

But when December rolled around, and you found yourself at the annual holiday party, you should have looked up when you sauntered up to him to wish him a merry Christmas, as the dried twig of mistletoe above was swiftly made more than apparent to the both of you as every inebriated colleague surrounding you both grew rowdy, pressuring you till your lips met one another. 

The kiss may have begun as forced and hesitant, but soon it morphed into something much stronger than anything they served at the open bar, causing you both to forget your own names as the buzzing party from around you melted away till it was just the two of you in the office. As the heated kiss broke and you remained incredibly close, blinking back at one another, a heavenly curve found your lips as he gazed down upon you as if he was mere moments away from tossing you over his shoulder and hauling you into his office to have his way with you, not caring one bit about the lack of privacy the fronted glass provided. 

But just as your heart swelled in your chest, rumbles in the crowd swiftly broke it into a million tiny little pieces.

“Oh damn! Interns, they’re trouble. Just don’t tell your wife, Barnes! I know you’re new to that whole concept, what–, has it already been a whole month since the wedding?” 

“Yeah, here’s a lesson for you,” a different man shouted through his laugh, “what happens at the office, stays at the office! Not really a good idea to take the fun and games back home to the missus.”

You almost quit a whole month before the opportunity was supposed to come to an end but couldn’t, as the mere thought of not seeing his face every day any longer somehow shattered your heart even further. 

But one day, as you felt yourself drowning in the torture, Peter, a guy close to your own age showed up in the lobby, waiting for someone he knew at the firm. As his wait drew out and the minutes neared an hour, every ounce of his attention remained glued upon you. In an effort to mend your own heart, you decided that flirting back with him wasn’t the worst method to test out. However, it wasn’t till you began to move on and you actually fell for the sweet guy from the lobby that your world came crumbling down around you. 

The first time that Peter had invited you back to his home, as soon as you walked through the door, the truth of the relation between your newly minted boyfriend and the man, who at that time hadn’t been your boss any longer for a few weeks, was instead tossed in your face like a bucket of ice water. 

Mr Barnes turned out to be the rich asshole Peter’s mom had fallen for earlier that year, the one he often couldn’t hold his own tongue to grumble about as he hadn’t yet warmed up to the new father figure in his life. 

And that was how you got stuck in the bittersweet reality you now lived in. There was no way you could end things with Peter as he was the most wonderful boyfriend you’d ever had and whom you’d genuinely grown to love. But that wasn’t the only reason why you couldn’t do it, since if you were to let him go, then you would also have to let go of Mr Barnes, even if he was just a harrowing haunting of a hopeless dream. 

The house was completely silent as every soul within it slumbered, everyone except for you as plain beige wrapping paper crackled gently beneath the silk bow you tightened over it. You’d slipped into an office, that stood on the opposite side of the upstairs to where the cluster of bedrooms were, to secretly wrap up the handful of gifts you’d hidden at the very bottom of the bag you’d brought with you.

Though just as you sliced a pair of scissors through the paper to cut off a piece for the last present, a small bump suddenly echoed throughout the dark home. 

Getting up from your makeshift workstation on the floor, you peeked out into the dim hallway. Your slow steps caused the floorboards to groan as you took a look around, even casting a glance down the staircase to the entryway that bloomed below, before the noise found your ears once more, snapping your attention to somewhere deeper down one of the shadowy corridors.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you crept closer to the latch you now noticed was open. Ladder unfurled, the abyss of the attic loomed above you and sent a shiver down your spine. 

But then as a broad figure suddenly appeared in the opening, you couldn’t help but let out a shuttering yelp, even after you’d recognised the man whom your sudden shriek startled. 

“Mr Barnes!” your palm soared up to your pounding heart, “I thought you were a ghost or a burglar or something! What in the world are you doing up there?”

Ascending the ladder, you noticed the heavy box he balanced in his arms, “I was just getting some decorations for the tree,” he huffed as you caught your breath, reminding you of the still bare pine tree that stood down in the living room. 

“Right, I forgot that’s the plan for tomorrow,” you murmured as you spun around on your heel. Though as you entered the office once more, a glance over your shoulder led you to discover his shadow, “what are you doing?” you asked in a small voice as he followed you into the room. 

“This is my study,” he tilted his head as if that was common knowledge. 

“Oh,” you breathed, “I didn’t know,” and glanced down at the gifts you’d left on the floor, “sorry, I’ll go somewhere else.”

But just as you bent down to gather up your supplies, his deep voice crackled from behind you, ��no need, make yourself at home,” he sat down the box before rummaging through it, taking out a few of the delicate ornaments before only tangles of twinkle lights were visible in the container, “I’ll only be a second.” 

Kneeling down beside the electrical socket closet to the door, he then began to check all of the lights, one by one, making sure none of the tiny bulbs were dead. 

And as you returned your hazy attention to the last of your remaining gifts, Mr Barnes then once again filled the silent office with his low tone, “…look, I–…” he hesitantly started, keeping his ocean stare glued to the ground, “you deserve an apology,” he exhaled heavily, “I don’t know what came over me earlier. It was wrong, completely inappropriate, and I can’t believe I let it happen.”

Blinking up at him as he refused to lift his gaze, a quiet, “oh…” shuttered out past your lips as his apology only broke your heart further. It, of course, hadn’t been ideal the way that he’d taken advantage of the unfortunate situation he’d found you in, but that doesn’t mean it hadn’t been a dream come true for you, complicated as it may have been. 

“Kiddo,” he sighed, “I understand completely if you don’t wanna spend Christmas here anymore. You just say the word, and I’ll make the arrangements for you to go back home.”

“Is that what you want?” you heard yourself utter, “for me to go?” 

Finally meeting your gaze, a crinkle found his dark brows, “…what I want can only cause harm…”

As you lost yourself in the ocean of his blue eyes, you whispered almost dreamily, “…do you still remember?” you felt your lips tingle at the memory as you slowly rose back up to your feet, “because up till today I had convinced myself that you were too drunk that night to recall…”

Shifting his gaze, Bucky then let out an exhale, “kid…” the single syllable carrying a gentle whisp of warning. 

“Or is it just normal for you to kiss interns under the mistletoe,” you couldn’t help but go on, “especially like that?”

“No,” he finally murmured as his head found a slow rock from side to side, “it isn’t,” though swiftly met your stare to caution, “and I’d hold my tongue if I were you before you say something that you shouldn’t.”

“Like what?” you breathed, “the truth?” 

“Stop,” he squeezed his eyes shut as his head faintly shook, “you’re my stepson’s girlfriend.”

“That’s true…” you averted your gaze to where your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, “but he wasn’t the one that I fell for first… the one that I still can’t seem to get over…”

Your eyes then found one another for a split moment, locking with each other for a single breath before Bucky’s feet began to shift and he crossed the room. Catching your face in his wide palms, he then crashed his lips against your own. 

Your heels instinctively levitated off the ground, lifting you up closer to his towering height as he kissed you like he’d just come home from some mystical war. 

A sigh softly seeped out of your nose and tickled the grey that speckled his beard as you felt his starved tongue silkily sweep against your own. 

But just as the intoxicating taste of him weakened your knees, he tilted his chin and cut the kiss short. Blinking up at him as he kept your jaw in his grasp, you breathed, “Mr Barnes–”

“What the fuck am I doing–,” a faint whisper seeped through his sigh, “I’m going to hell for this…”

“So then stop,” the sound of your small voice beckoned his gaze to find your own, “if you don’t want me the way that I want you,” your fingers tangled in his tie, “just stop and go back to bed with your wife…”

“…I didn’t–…” he hesitantly began, “I didn’t expect to meet someone like you, especially not right after I’d gotten married,” his eyes stayed locked with your own, “I thought I’d finally figured it all out, and then there you were, all fresh-faced, sticking out like a sore thumb among all the suits…” the corner of his lips briefly twitched into a faint smile at the memory, “you turned my world upside down,” his fingers on the side of your face flexed gently as he uttered that declaration, “after you stopped working there, I–… I damn near almost quit myself… but then Peter brought back his new girl, and seeing you again, even if it was just a glimpse every once and a while, it was like I could breathe again.” 

Blinking up at him, dizzy from his honied words, your fingers tangled in his tie, then tightened, and you tugged him far enough down for your lips to lock once again.

Swiftly, his feet began to absentmindedly shuffle till your hips bumped into the edge of the polished desk that stood in the middle of the office. The bundle of forgotten Christmas lights were still glowing on the floor by the ajar door as your boyfriend’s stepfather let his broad hands scoop down over your body and pluck you up to sit on the table. 

It was the hold that you still had around the silky accessory knotted around his neck that caused him to slot in between your parted thighs, just a little tug was all it took for your knees to be needily grazing against his sides. Pulling on the tie, your lips didn’t stray from one another’s for but a moment as you undid the knot, let the fabric slip out from under his collar and tumble down onto the floor below. 

Though when his smouldering touches finally came to ignite against the softness of your tits through your sweater, a whimper tumbled out of your lungs and melted against his tongue, only narrowly getting muffled by his kiss as the sound threatened to fill up the entire room.  

“Shh,” he barely withdrew to hush, only tilted his head to catch a different angle before he dove back into your sweetness. 

“Sorry,” your murmur swiftly got swallowed by his pecks. 

But when his hands continued to rake across your form, making you feel like a flicking star that shot across the night sky, as his grip came down to dent your ass, it wasn’t just a soft whine that crawled up your throat, but a full on moan, as the manner he’d squeezed your curve had sent a tingling bolt straight to your throbbing clit. 

“You gotta be quiet.” 

“Shit,” you cursed as you heard it yourself, “sorry, sorry.”

This time you truly did try to keep your mouth shut, consciously biting your tongue as his burning hands nearly singed the clothes from your frame, but when his palm eventually snuck up the short hem of your skirt and slipped off the soaked panties that clung to your core, the sound that forced its way out of your body when his touch finally grazed through your dripping folds echoed into the night. 

And as soon as the moan tumbled off your lips, Bucky’s hand rapidly vanished from between your quaking thighs as he took a large step back. 

“You’re killing me here,” he groaned as he reached the opposite side of the room to plant his inked palm against the open door, shutting it as he leaned his weight into it, “you’ll wake up the whole house,” the fingers still clutching your underwear caught the lock and flicked it to the side. 

“I’m sorry,” you dug your nails into the polished wood you were balanced on, “I swear I’m trying to be quiet, I really am.”

“Well, not good enough,” he glanced back over his shoulder at where you sat before his vision flickered down to land upon the ribbon only half tied around the last of the presents you’d wrapped. His expression then softened as he slowly picked his stride up once more, “…but, I think I might be able to help…” on his way to where you were seated, he bent down to snatch up the loose strand still not fastened around the wrapped box, and when he stood before you once again, Bucky’s gaze fluttered to your mouth as he then uttered, “open up,” before you parted your lips for him. Your eyes swiftly grew as he first fed you the cotton of your panties before he wrapped the emerald silk ribbon around the stuffed opening and tied it off at the back of your head, “there,” he purred as he pulled on the small bow at the nape of your neck, “that’ll shut you up. Now where were we? Right! It was somewhere around here,” his word was emphasised by his touch as it slipped back up under your skirt, though this time when the broad pads of his fingers slipped through your glistening petals, your purrs were completely muffled against the makeshift gag. 

As his touch tickled at your core and caused your legs to quiver at either side of him, his face stayed close to your own, nose denting your hot cheek as his breath fanned against your skin. He even stayed that close as he began to strip you of your clothing, tossing it all to the floor till you were sitting before him wearing nothing but the bow he’d tied himself to keep you quiet.

Though as you shifted to mirror his actions, he stopped you just as you caught onto the zipper of his pants. 

“Na-ah-ah, kid,” he backed up just enough for the palpable tent in his trousers to disappear from your palm’s reach, “keep your hands to yourself. Be good, and then you’ll get your present.”

However, his whispered warning didn’t sink into your senses enough as barely any time passed before you stopped fighting the urge to touch him again. 

“What,” his chuckle washed over you as he captured your gaze, “don’t tell me you need to be tied up too?”

That notion sent a shiver down your spine before a smile poked out behind your gag as you playfully shrugged, your apparent approval causing Bucky’s light laugh to reappear in a second wave. 

Spinning around, the older man before you then grabbed the cord of glowing lights on the floor before stringing it along to where you were planted. First, he wrapped the vibrant strand of tiny bulbs around your wrists, tying them together in front of your body, before he tangled the remainder of the length around your torso, over your arms and all the way down to your waist. 

As he took a step back to admire his handiwork, that’s when he finally freed his dick, letting it spring forth from his pants as his stare licked up your bound visage. The strokes he swiftly offered himself were long and slow, making you press your thighs together as you watched, a yearnful whine vibrating against the cotton stuffing up your mouth. 

“Aw, do you want my cock?” he mocked as your constricted fingers instinctively tried to reach out for him. Closing the gap between you once again, with one hand, he scooped you closer to both the edge as well as the throbbing girth heavy in his palm, “you want this dick, huh?” he smirked before brushing the bulbous head through the drooling mess between your thighs. 

Your eyes fluttered as he nuzzled his hardness against your buzzing clit, though he somehow kept your stare captured in the intenseness of his own as he dragged the tip through your petals, making them part for him. It seemed like ages that he went between teasing your leaky entrance to sweeping up and flicking at your puffy pearl, though gradually each time he’d near your little hole, crying out for him to sink into, he dipped inside just a tiny bit, each time granting you more of his length till his heavy balls were nuzzled against your slick skin. 

His lips pressed against your cheek, kissing it softly as his girth split you open. A slick symphony echoed throughout the room each time his hips slammed against your own, and as your own cries were hushed, it was only the sinful sound of that, as well as Mr Barnes’ heavy breath and the occasional suppressed groans, that filled the office and lulled you into nothing short of a trance. 

With Bucky’s left hand that he had weaved into a clutch at the twinkle lights tangled at your front, the colourful glow illuminated the dark tattoos that marked up the back of it and caught your hazy gaze as he then tipped you over and layed you back down against the desk, his ruthless rhythm never faulting for a second. 

And as you layed there before him, the both of you creeping ever near to that inevitable end, you watched as his eyes drifted down your frame. From where the string of lights squished against the softness of your boobs, to where he spread your thighs apart further, letting him spot just how perfectly his fat girth sank into you, till finally settling on the dull bulge just above your glistening pussy. The imprint of his daunting size rocking within you, illuminated just sufficiently enough by the string of glimmering lights for his eyes to spot, bloomed a bright grin on his features and caused his hips to snap, feverously slamming his cock so deep inside of you that the tightly wound coil within you had no other choice but just to let go in a burst of vibrant hues. 

Once his length was throbbing inside of you and pumping you full of his cum, breathlessly he removed the gag, though barely let you fill your lungs with air before he locked his lips against your own, both of your smiles blurring the kiss with giggles as you made out sweetly. 

As Peter’s figure appeared behind you in the doorway to the little bathroom that shot off his room, his frame abrupted the bright morning light that streamed in through the window. 

Still only clad in a borrowed shirt, the hem rose up as you bent down over the sink to spit out the toothpaste foaming in your mouth, but just as you did, a quiet click revealed your boyfriend’s presence behind you. 

Peeking over your shoulder, you spotted the Polaroid camera, that you’d remembered to bring from your dorm room, firm in his grasp. 

“What are you doing?” you muttered as you rinsed off your toothbrush. 

“Just growing my collection,” he smiled, leaning against the doorframe as he wafted the small photo the camera had spit out. 

“Hey, I brought that for capturing memories,” you snatched it back as you passed him, “not using all the film for nudes,” before bending down and stuffing it back into your bag. 

The lump of guilt that ached in your chest nearly persuaded you to spill everything to Peter long before you both got dressed and descended the stairs. 

Should you even tell him what had happened and hope for the best or had you just backed yourself into a corner so impossible that you had no other choice but to break things off with him? If that truly was so, then you couldn’t do it yet, not now, at least wait until January if that was the only option. 

Though as soon as you both entered the kitchen, the visage of Bucky fiddling with the coffee machine caused the unbearable knot to slowly melt away the longer that you gazed at him. 

“Hi Honey,” Peter’s mother came sauntering in from the dining room and flashed her son a smile before diving into a drawer for some cutlery on her mission to set up the breakfast table, “did you two sleep well last night?” 

“Yeah, I was out like a light,” your boyfriend uttered before his glance flickered to you, “this one however didn’t come to bed till really late.”

“Oh, did you have trouble falling asleep?” his mom found your eye. 

“Uhm, no,” your glance momentarily flickered to the broad back before the coffee machine, “I just–, uh, I was wrapping presents. Hope it’s okay that I borrowed some paper and stuff.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “if you want a caffeine boost, there’s a fresh pot of coffee,” and nodded in the direction of her husband, “and the mugs are up there.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I’m actually more of a tea drinker.”

“Well, we have some of that as well,” she tilted her head before crossing into the dining room once again, “take a look in the pantry.” 

Slipping down the narrow path between the central kitchen island and the line of counters, your body brushed against Bucky’s as you passed before crossing into the small storage room. Though as your gaze scanned the stocked shelves before you, a crinkle found your brow. 

“Wait, where is it?” your quiet voice seeped out of the pantry. 

“Up over the shelf where the cans are,” Peter tried to guide you before his stepfather shot him a glance. 

“I’ll help,” he murmured, “she’s probably too short to reach it anyway.”

You didn’t even have to peek over your shoulder to find out he was there as just the warmth of his presence radiating off of him was enough to cause your eyes to flutter closed and your lungs to be filled with a deep breath. Though when he pressed his wide frame against your spine, his low exhale seeping into your soul, a dull throb between your thighs bloomed as an underlying beat to his palms he then let glide over your waist before one shot up to tilt your chin and he craned his neck to plant a kiss to your lips. 

“Did you find it?” Peter’s voice from on the other side of the thin wall caused you to fumble away from his stepdad, nearly knocking over half the contents on one of the shelves at the jolt. 

“Yep! Yeah!” you squeaked, scrambling before Bucky reached above you, plucked a small box off a shelf, and placed the random tea in your fumbling hands, “I’ve–, uhm, yeah!” before you shuffled back out into the kitchen, “water, water…” you murmured as your eyes scanned the space. 

“Over there,” your boyfriend nodded to the electric kettle in the corner before he carried the stack of plates in his hands into the dining room. 

And as you boiled the water and brewed the tea, every chance Mr Barnes got to follow his heart, he grasped with both of his fists. If the others had momentarily stepped out of the room, or even if they’d just turned to face away, there he was at your side, suddenly much closer than what was appropriate for a parental figure of one’s partner to be. If he had the time, his touch would sneak down to tickle you over your clothes, or occasionally his lips would even find your neck and make you too dizzy to even care how risky his behaviour was.  

It even continued long after you’d joined the rest at the dining table as the last two seats remaining were slotted right next to one another, though this time, now that he had the table as a cover, the cocky bastard let his hand grow even more daring than before. 

When his touch teasingly travelled up your thigh before boldly darting straight to his goal and making you nearly choke on your herbal tea as he pressed down on the seam of your jeans, rubbing your throbbing clit through the rough fabric.

“Are you alright?” Peter’s mother cut off what she’d been blabbering about as you almost spit out the hot beverage. 

“Mhm,” you hastily nodded, attempting to keep a straight face as Bucky’s inked fingers kept up their bullying between your thighs, “just burned my tongue,” the mug met the table in a soft thunk, “I’m fine,” you breathed shakily and kept your gaze glued to the piece of toast on the plate before you. 

“Oh, well, blow on it next time,” she said before returning to the topic the secrets beneath the breakfast table had interrupted, “so, what do we think,” she sank her fork into a piece of orange, “should we head off to the Christmas market today or do that a different day?” 

The scent of warm spices wafted through the air from the cluster of booths, selling every scrumptious festive treat imaginable, right next to the windy entrance to a pen where children could ride some sturdy ponies from a local farm. 

“What if we all split up for a while?” Peter’s mother suggested as you all eyed the handcrafted goods displayed by the many snow-dusted stalls, “I know I may or may not have already spotted a few things I wanna buy in secret.”

“Good idea,” your boyfriend nodded as he let go of your mitten-clad hand, “should we meet back here in, what–, half an hour?” he gestured up to the grand Christmas tree, glowing in the centre of the market. 

“Sure,” Bucky’s voice rumbled, “then we can grab a bite afterwards.”

His stolen touches hadn’t become less bold after you’d left the house. From purposefully letting his palm graze against your boob when he’d helped you reach for your seatbelt in the car, to the numerous times at the market he’d yanked you around the corner of a rustic booth to steal a kiss. 

“You know,” Bucky’s voice suddenly tickled the shell of your ear as he found you standing before the line of small children, all waiting for a chance to meet the market’s Santa, “when I get you alone,” he whispered as your eyes lingered on the elderly man in the distance, all clad in red, “you can sit down on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas…”

“Oh yeah?” the corners of your lips tipped up into a smile, “will you also ask me if I’ve been naughty or nice?”

“Well, I already know the answer to that,” he chuckled before twisting you around to face him. 

The gentle giggle that billowed out from your lungs was swiftly silenced as the older man bent down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Wait,” you suddenly pushed him back as the exposed nature of where you stood sank in, “not here,” and your eyes swiftly darted around the crowd in hopes that they wouldn’t land on anyone you knew, “someone might see.”

Snatching up his hand, you then tugged him with you as you crossed over the small square. Passing by a small ice-skating rink, your snow-crunching steps eventually led you into the maze-like wonder that was the Christmas tree lot. 

Soon, the make-out that blossomed between the dense pines snowballed into you on your knees, on the cold and needle-covered ground, with Bucky’s girth twitching in your grasp as you tilted your head to plant a sloppy trail of pecks down his heavy balls. 

If he hadn’t riled you up all morning, then you probably wouldn’t have desperately kneeled down before him in the middle of a crowded space, just because he’d made your brain melt so fiercely that your mouth itched to be used. That or perhaps you would still have found your way here on your own if he hadn’t given you a push, after all, it had been you who had simply told him to be on lookout before you snatched off one mitten, sank down in front of him and, without any further warning, freed his fat cock. 

As you let go of his sack with a pop, before you could crane back up to swallow his length, Bucky briefly bent down to steal a sloppy kiss before letting you get back to it, though when he broke the peck, a string of saliva keeping you connected a moment as he straightened back up, a soft frown tainted your features as you blinked up at him. 

“You stole all my spit,” you pouted as his lavish tongue had managed to lick up most of the gathered slickness you’d wished to glisten up his dick with. 

“Sorry,” a soft chuckle rumbled within his broad chest as he bowed down to grasp your chin. Prying your lips apart, he then let a dollop of his own saliva drop down and land upon your silky tongue. 

A gentle smile tugged at your lips as they wrapped around his thick girth. Marvelling up at him as you found a playful pace, he only granted himself a rare peek between his neck twisting from side to side, vigilantly keeping an eye out as you sucked him off. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as your drool gurgled up your bobbing. Lips ever parted, his fingers sneaked down to tangle themselves in your hair, “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” he slowly brought your head back till only the tip stayed warm within your mouth, “though knowing you, you probably wouldn’t even pause if someone actually did wander this way,” a short hiss of pleasure flowed out of his lungs as your tongue silkily traced the bulbous head, “even if it was your little boyfriend, you’d probably just yank down his fly so you could choke on his cock as well…”

Squinting up at the dried orange slices strung up and decorating the living room window, you let out a contemplating hum before it morphed into an idea, “we could watch a movie?” 

“Ah,” Peter exhaled next to you on the couch, “I don’t know… what if we went for a walk? It just stopped snowing.”

“No, I don’t really have the energy left for that,” you shrugged, “plus it’ll be dark soon… I kinda just wanna take it easy the rest of today and eat as many of those cookies your mom’s baking while they’re still hot.” 

Glancing over his shoulder at the doorway leading into the kitchen, Peter then nodded, “alright, sure. We could put on some music or something.” 

“Uh!” an idea then stuck you and lit up your gaze, “and we could play a board game, or even better, do a jigsaw puzzle! Do you think you have one?” your body tilted a bit closer, “you have one, right?”

“I think we have more than one,” he cocked his head and got up from the couch, “how hard do you want it?”

“Pretty hard, but also not like impossible,” you breathed, “it would be nice if we finished it before the new year.”

“Alright, I’ll go find one,” his feet began to drag across the hardwood floor, “you go gather provisions. I think I just heard the timer in the kitchen go off.”

A gasp swiftly flowed out of you as you rushed to rise to your feet, “cookies!” before you darted along, leaving Peter to a soft chuckle as he went out into the entryway and popped open the large closet. 

Though as he slipped inside and shifted to switch on the lightbulb dangling above, near the top shelf that carried all of the games, his elbow collided with a few of the coats on the row of hangings off to the side, unfortunately knocking some of them to the ground. Among the casualties were both yours as well as Bucky’s, though when the jackets came tumbling down, a few items also came pouring out of the pockets. 

Glancing down at the polaroids at his feet, even though the backsides were staring up at him, Peter still assumed that they’d fallen out of your pocket. Plucking them up into his grasp, a smirk swiftly curved his lips as he flipped over the short stack to reveal the familiar visage of your nude form. And the deeper into the small pile he got, the more explicit they became. 

But when he reached one that captured you lying on your stomach and with your lips wrapped around a cock, the smile swiftly faded from his features as he caught sight of the hand that reached down from behind the camera to stroke your hair. His hand certainly didn’t have either a wedding ring nor a chillingly familiar tattooed pattern scrawled upon the skin. 

And as he shuffled the deck to reveal the last photo, his suspicions were confirmed as he was confronted with the visage of his stepfather railing you against the sink in the upstairs bathroom. The camera was in his one hand as he held your hazy gaze in the mirror, while the other one curved around to capture your tit, the soft peak decorated in droplets as you stuck out your tongue and let your drool drip down. 

And though confusion, rage and jealousy were the cocktail of emotions to first take over his body, the palpable tent in his jeans beckoned for his attention too and convinced him to take care of it, blindly pumping his dick till his load coated the photos in his palm. 

“Fuck…” he hissed as his stare stayed glued to the cum covered pictures, “…I guess I’ll need to have a little talk with my stepdad…”

“The whole house all to ourselves… however shall we pass the time?” 

Your giggle bounced off the kitchen tile as you hopped up to sit upon one of the counters, only moments after both Peter and his mother had driven off to do some last-minute holiday shopping. 

Leaning back against the kitchen island, Bucky crossed his arms over his burly chest and smiled, “I have a feeling that we’ll think of something to do.”

And that was how you ended up moaning on either sides of the kitchen. 

Though he only loosened his tie, popped open the first few buttons of his shirt and undid his belt to free his cock, you tore off everything except for the red lingerie your clothes unwrapped for him to see and led him to beg for the sheer mesh to stay clinging on your skin while you let your fingertips dip into the waistband. 

But before either of you could finish, the older man snatched you off the counter and hauled you into the living room. 

And as you both stood there, his arms around you keeping your dizzy form upright as he kissed you feverishly, his head then tilted back, a blooming smirk on his lips, before he uttered, “I have an idea…”

The idea in question involved his silky tie being secured over your eyes, a proposal you of course jumped at to outlive. 

Though as you stood there, one of your senses dulled as Bucky’s touch fluttered across your form, the smattering of pecks and caresses had you floating away to some far-off realm. In the blissful fog of it all, you lost track of his touch and swore on occasion that it didn’t add up, as sporadic kisses were planted in places not plausible from where you thought he stood, or his wide hands even seemed as if they weren’t just one pair. 

And as you tried to connect the dots, your fingers fluttered up to push the makeshift blindfold up to your forehead, and the visage that met your eyes promptly caused them to grow wide. 

“Peter!” you gasped as you came face to face with not only Bucky, but also your boyfriend, “I–, I–”

“Hey babe,” he simply breathed as both his own and his stepfather’s touch faded from your half-naked form. 

“Peter,” your heart hammered in your chest as tears began to blur your vision, “I am so so sorry. I–, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh yeah? So you’re not sneaking around with my stepdad behind my back?” he kept your gaze captured in his, “baby, it’s–,” a sigh broke up his sentence, “I was about to say that it’s alright, but–,” a dry chuckle then bubbled out of his throat as it obviously wasn’t okay, before he then shook his head and got to the point, “we had a little chat, Bucky and I.”

“…you did?” you finally shifted your glance and let it flicker to Mr Barnes. 

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “we came up with a little arrangement so that we’d all get what we want.”

“So now all you gotta do is just tell the truth,” Peter’s fingers floated up to tug a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “did you just use me to get to him? Was anything about our relationship real?” he asked in a soft and sombre tone. 

“It was, it is,” you swore as you raised up your own palm to graze over his that still lingers by your jaw, “I may have lied to you about certain things, but my feelings for you were never one of them.”

“Okay…” your boyfriend’s head slowly began to rock in a nod. As he let you lace your fingers in with his own, another question left his lips, “so, do you think that heart of yours is big enough for the both of us?” 

Your vision then widened before it shifted between both of the men standing before you, “…are you suggesting–”

“Only if you want to,” Bucky tilted his head and awaited your answer. 

“I–,” you gasped as a grin slowly grew upon your lips, “oh my god!” and an uncontrollable laughter bubbled out of you. 

“Is that a yes?” Peter asked, his hand still in yours. 

“Yes! Yes, of course, it is!” you beamed before throwing your arms around him and crashing your lips against his own, only moments before you shifted to mirror the action with the older man still by your other side.

And as the kiss you pressed to Bucky’s lips stretched and drew out, it suddenly broke when he abruptly tossed you down to lay across the plush couch behind you. As he slotted in between your parted thighs and clutched the red mesh to the side in order to finally grant himself some of the sugar you’d teased him with moments before, your head sloped over the armrest before Peter appeared above you and bent down to claim your lips in a kiss to muffle the whine that flowed from them just as his stepdad stretched your open. 

Momentarily, Bucky plucked your hips up off the couch and drove them to meet his own, fucking you like a toy, before he let you drop back down and joined you on the sofa. 

And as the older man between your thighs spread them wider and granted himself the perfect view of how his staggering girth disappeared in your fluttering pussy, your boyfriend above you slid a hand under your head and tilted it closer to the length throbbing in his fist. 

Tapping his cock against your moan, it didn’t take long before he was buried in your mouth, each greedy thrust bringing him further down your throat till the imprint of his cock bulged in your neck. 

“That’s impressive,” Bucky commented on the way the younger man fucked your face, “why haven’t you shown me that party trick yet?” he hummed as Peter roughly yanked his dick back out and granted you the chance to catch your breath. 

Seizing the moment, Bucky flipped you around before your mouth could be filled once again, tossing you onto your knees and letting your forearms crash to the armrest, your head nearly falling face-first into Peter’s lap, lending him to catch you as he flashed the man behind you a grin, “you know that she does anal too, right?” 

A low groan then flowed from Bucky’s lungs as he let his broad thumb sweep across your little rosebud, “does she now…”

“Yep,” Peter grunted proudly, “she might even let us fuck both of her pretty holes at once if we’re real nice. She’s let me do that before with toys.”

“Of course she has,” Bucky chuckled lowly as he eased his fat cock back inside, “what do you say, kid? It is Christmas after all, I think we deserve something special.”

“I–, uhm,” you tried your best to answer him through the ecstasy they tossed you into, “sure.” 

“Attagirl,” Bucky croaked as his heavy balls tapped messily against your puffy pearl, “do you wanna pick who gets what honour?”

But before you could squeak out an answer, Peter instead uttered, “or we could make it a game, let you try and guess,” as his touch travelled up to tug at the blindfold still resting atop your brow. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[bea0206]

Such a brilliant story ❤️

It's a Love Story - Masterlist

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife. Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again. And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Links:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

[bea0206]

Beautifully written

frozen deep blue but you painted me golden

Summary:

Kora feels self conscious. Thankfully, her mate knows how to fix that. 

Warning:

This is literally pure smut people, so NSFW applies. Otherwise: Size kink ( Cassian is massive and she is smol), Use of Mirrors, Mirror Sex? Spanking, Magical Asthma (Is that a thing? I made it a thing.) 

(Beautiful dividers thanks to the lovely @tsunami-of-tears)

Kora stared at herself in the mirror.

Took in the white hair that fell to her waist in long waves…took in the straight eyebrows and the blue eyes that she had inherited from her mother…

She let her eyes track downwards…over the lacy nightgown she wore. Foam green…lacy straps that crisscrossed beneath her breasts…clinging to her curves.

Not that there was much in the way of curves it could cling to.

There had never been much.

Even that stupid nightgown… Kora had needed to have it hemmed and the straps taken in so that they didn’t keep slipping off her shoulders.

Kora could probably fault all that on her mother’s pregnancy complications. The same pregnancy complications that had resulted in her being born early. And the fact that most of the healers hadn’t truly believed that she was going to get older than a few days.

Jokes on them. Well, mostly.

She was…fine. If one ignored the weak lungs, the fact that she managed to catch every cold that went around, had never really reached the height of an adult and it was seemingly near impossible for her to put on any weight…but other than that she was fine. It could be worse at least.

Kora just wished…She just wished that maybe her breasts were a smidgen bigger than they were. That she looked more…womanly.

Instead, she looked… She looked like a porcelain doll. She had heard that more than once. Like something that should be put behind glass and not be touched, for fear of breaking it.

Whatever Kora did…she was definitely never going to manage to look sexy. That much was certain.

Kora pulled her eyes from the mirror and walked to the bed, scaling the height of it and curling herself together beneath the sheets.

She should stop thinking like that, she knew that. It wasn’t going to…give her anything. It was just going to make her feel horrible about herself.

Kora buried herself underneath the duvet, the lacy nightgown slipping further off her shoulder, exposing the white, slender skin underneath.

She knew that she was being silly and vain, but it had always niggled at her that she didn’t quite match the beauty standards of the Winter Court. Kora was petite, fragile, and delicate, and the word ‘sexy’ had never crossed anyone's mind whenever they thought or spoke of her.

She wasn’t strong and muscular…she wasn’t…She was none of these things. 

And so she stewed, in the weak light of the bedroom. She hadn’t bothered to shut off the faelights yet.

Kora knew her husband would come to bed and he would manage to stub a toe and curse under his breath and wake her up even when he tried to be quiet…Somehow he had the incredible ability to be unheard in battle and a bull in a china shop while trying to be quiet and not wake her.

Some things never changed. Even after 300 years.

So Kora closed her eyes, and snuggled deeper in the blankets…and just minutes later, one eye slipped open as she heard the door open, a smile stretching over her face.

There he was.

Her husband's hulking form filled the doorway, massive, membranous black wings held high and proud as he came into the bedroom they shared.

Even close to 300 years after they had first met, Kora still thought him to be the most handsome male she had ever laid eyes on.

Even after 300 years the sight of him still made her heart race. 

Cassian’s wings flared out from behind him, spanning the entire space of the door frame, casting a shadow across his tanned face. Even though the room was mostly dark, Kora could see every single muscle on his body tensing and shifting as he walked through the door. He was utterly magnificent.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, Princess?” Cassian greeted her and she smiled at him.

“Good evening, husband,” Kora gave back quietly, just as he moved to unsheathe his weapons, carefully placing them on their rack.

“Give me 5 minutes,” he requested and she hummed her agreement, watching the play of muscles underneath his skin as he pulled his shirt over his head, ferocious wings trembling and stretching behind him…

Kora’s throat dried as even more of his muscular form was exposed to her. It was a sight that, despite seeing it every night, never lost its effect on her. The scars on his body, the rippling muscles and tanned skin. She was transfixed.

It didn’t take her long for her gaze to linger below his waistline, where her eyes traced the V-lines that were visible above the top of his pants.

Cassian smirked, noticing her gaze, and unbuckled his pants, letting them fall to the floor. He didn’t miss the flush that crept over her cheeks as he removed his clothes.

“Are you ogling me, Princess?” he chuckled, his voice low and gravelly as he walked over to the bed where she was sitting.

So handsome. So beautiful.

She would never quite get over the fact that the mother thought it to be prudent to make them mates. Would never get over the privilege of sharing his life, his bed, his love. He was everything.

Cassian prowled onto the bed, his movements fluid and silent like a predator stalking its prey. He knelt over her, his wings spreading out behind him as if to wrap Kora in their embrace.

“5 minutes,” he repeated.

She swallowed and modded.

It didn’t take Cassian 5 minutes. It took him less than that.

He stepped out of the bathing chamber, skin still damp, the fanlight making it glow nearly golden…the dark warrior markings swirling over acres and acres of muscles.

Eager tonight, wasn’t she? She reflected drily, as he didn’t even bother with a stitch of clothing, the towel getting thrown over a chair as he prowled towards the bed.

Beautiful.

Beautiful and all hers.

She watched unashamedly, the muscular thighs, strong like tree trunks…the muscles that covered his stomach and chest… and the thick, half-hard cock between those thighs.

The sight of him, naked and still damp from the bath, made her shiver. He was magnificent, and he loved her. Somehow this beautiful, powerful, warrior had loved her, been mated with her, and taken her to bed.

He prowled across the room and climbed onto the bed, and Kora found herself leaning back, a strange sort of shyness falling across her. In all of its glory, his muscled body was all too beautiful and powerful, and next to him, her small and weak frame felt…inadequate.

And still, her body reacted with a rush of wetness between her thighs, before he had even laid a single finger on her. 

And then he did lay a finger on her. His hand reached out to her face, and she gasped as he gently cupped her cheek. She leaned into his touch, his skin still slightly damp, and she closed her eyes, revelling in the feeling of his calloused hand tracing her sharp jawline and the curve of her cheek. Then it was on her shoulder, his touch so gentle, and then her chest.

His fingers traced small, lazy circles on her collarbones, and Kora found herself arching her back into his touch, silently asking for more.

Cassian tipped up her chin with these strong and broad hands that could span her whole jaw if he wanted them to. He kissed her, a soft brush of his lips on hers and she moaned against him, her smaller hands squabbling against his shoulder.

“I missed you,” he said softly as he pulled back, catching one of her hands and pressing a kiss against every single fingertip. “How was your shopping trip? Were you successful?”

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and her back arched as Cassian’s lips traced the edge of her jaw and down to her neck.

“Tiring,” she muttered, tipping her head back to bare more of her neck, relishing as he left a trail of tiny kisses across her pale skin. “The shops were crowded, as usual.”

She hadn’t been successful in the slightest.

Seemingly every piece of clothing she had pulled in the shops hung off her…and maybe it also hadn’t helped to see that her friends…her family… Their bodies were strong. Healthy. Fitting in clothing off the rack and looking beautiful.

Her own body…it was none of these things.

It wasn’t fierce…or strong.

She was never going to be able to go head-to-head with Cassian in the sparring ring like Mor or Nesta or Feyre could.

Elain maybe didn’t want to, but she still could. If she wanted to learn, she could.  Elain could still take a hike without needing to ride on a reindeer because otherwise, Kora was probably going to faint.

It wasn’t like Cassian hadn’t tried to teach Kora.

Well, once. Once and no more, because it had ended with him fetching Madja, as she had struggled to breathe.

After that, she had been taught how to use a single knife to the best of her ability, which meant that the lesson was pretty much limited to Stick them with the pointy end, Princess.

She wished she could just… just for once… “Alas, no luck today,” Kora waved him off, leaning to press another kiss against his lips.

She could have this though. At least this.

She opened her mouth slightly in invitation, and that was all Kora needed to do. She gave him the opening and Cassian swooped in and made her forget anything else.

His tongue tangled with hers, a soft sigh escaping her as her hands fisted in his dark hair, and he plundered her mouth for everything she had to give.

Broad hands pulled her towards him, fisting into her nightgown… Kora shut off the faelights with a wave of her hand.  She couldn’t stand it today…couldn’t stand the look of his hazel eyes on her body.

In the dark, she couldn’t see him. Only the feeling of his hands, his mouth, his body as it pressed into hers.

His tongue explored every part of her mouth eagerly, and a wave of heat flushed over her as she felt his strong hands slide up the sides of her nightgown.

For once, there was a small, selfish part of Kora that she hoped that the lights were going to stay out. In the dark, there was no one to see every dip, crevice, and blemish on her body. Cassian wouldn’t see how lacking her body was in comparison to his own. He wouldn’t… 

“What’s wrong?”

Kora stilled, her eyes widened, and she silently cursed.

Cassian lifted his mouth from her neck and was looking down at her, searching for something in her eyes. He knew her far too well. It had been stupid of her not to realise that he would pick up on her suddenly shutting off the faelights when usually, she was the one… who liked to look her fill. 

“Nothing is wrong,” she told him, leaning forward to catch her mouth with her own, but he stopped her. 

“You turned off the lights,” Cassian returned, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders, keeping her still.

“Maybe I just wanted it to be dark,” Kora said quickly, hoping he would drop it.

She could see his silhouette in the shadows, the hard lines of his muscles. Cassian was quiet for a long moment and for a second she thought he was going to leave it…but he never did.

“You’re hiding from me,” he said, his voice flat but not unkind. “Why?”

She wasn’t hiding. It was just…It was…

“I look like a 12-year-old boy,” Kora suddenly blurted out. She didn’t look like…she wasn’t…

Cassian snorted, the faelights coming back on with a blink. He watched her, his eyes soft. 

“You definitely don’t,” Cassian gave back drily.  “For one, 12-year-old boys don’t have these,”  he said with a waggle of his eyebrows, his thumb tracing her breast through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

Kora’s cheeks glowed red, and she gave a frustrated huff.

“That’s not what I meant!” she said, swatting his hand away from her. “You know exactly what I meant. I don’t have any…curves. For cauldron’s sake, I am smaller than even Amren!” she said weakly.

“You are. Itty Bitty,” Cassian agreed, a bright smile on his face. 

Kora bristled, pulling her nightgown tighter around her body. “You don’t have to say that you know. I am very well aware of my…deficiencies,” she said sourly.

“I have eyes,” he disagreed, his hand cupping her chin and tipping it up to look at him. “You are smaller than Amren. That’s a fact. But that doesn’t mean that you aren’t lovely. Your body is exquisite…perfect. As if it was sculpted by the Mother herself, meant for me.”

She didn’t believe him.

“Where did this even come from?” Cassian wondered, his brows furrowing. “You never cared before.” 

No, she didn’t. Normally at least. It was easy to not care when she had a mate who pretty much worshipped the ground she walked on, who was so enthusiastic in their lovemaking that she had never once doubted that he wanted her. 

“Mor, Nesta and  Feyre, even Elain…they can fight. Hold a sword,” Kora said weakly. “I need a ride a reindeer if I want to take as much as a hike.”

His lips came down to press against her temple in a gentle kiss.

“You are worth a thousand swords on the battlefield,” he said quietly, but she only gave a slight scoff. “You can hold my sword all you want,” he tried next and she glared at him.

“Don’t make it dirty,” she snapped at him, making Cassian laugh, before he grew serious. 

“So what if they can? Your skills simply lie somewhere else. I would make a horrible spymaster. And I don’t think that Az is coming for my job any time soon either,” Cassian gave back earnestly.

She rolled her eyes at that, and some of the tension in her shoulders eased, but Kora wasn’t going to be so distracted so easily.

“What would you know? You’ve never had to be a petite, delicate flower that men have to carry everywhere,” she retorted bitterly. “I just wish for once I was strong enough to carry you around,” Kora sighed.

He just snorted. “Ask Az about it,” he suggested drily. “I am sure he is more than willing to tell you how lugging around my heavy ass is not some grand romantic gesture.”

Kora’s imagination immediately conjured up the image of Azriel awkwardly attempting to carry Cassian’s huge frame through a forest like a limp noodle.

Despite her mood, she couldn’t help but give a huffed laugh.

 But it still didn’t fix the root of the problem. 

“I am useless,” Kora said weakly.  “That’s what I am, Cassian.”

Her mate looked at her like she had just sprouted a second head. 

“You are not useless,” Cassian disagreed sharply. “Where would we be if we didn’t have you? You keep Az from going mute all the way. Rhys and you have your long philosophical discussions and you are Mor’s favourite shopping partner…Your research skills are unmatched, and if we didn’t have you, we wouldn’t be a proper court at all. We would probably just be a ragtag band of misfits,” he teased her. “You bring some organisation and decoration to whatever you do, Princess. Even Amren likes you, sweetheart. You are not useless.” 

Fine. Fine, she would give him that. 

“I suppose…” she muttered into his chest. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m weak and sickly and…you deserve better.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian snorted.  “Are you warm enough?” He asked her.

“See? Even now you need to worry about me so I don’t get sick. If Nesta was your mate, you wouldn’t need to worry about that! You wouldn’t need to worry about her fainting!”

He chuckled as he pulled her back against his chest, wrapping one warm arm around her petite frame, drawing her against the heat of his body.

“I rather like tending to you,” he said smugly. “As much as I love her, I am rather relieved that Nesta is not the one in my bed…she’d likely stab me in my sleep,” he told her drily. “And the fact that you are ill doesn’t make you weak,” Cassian disagreed with her, pressing another kiss against her forehead. “That is nothing you can help, Princess, and it doesn’t make you weak or worth any less in my eyes. You are my mate and my wife and the love of my life. You gave me your love, Kora. You gave me a home. You took a bastard as your husband, even when you deserved an emperor,” he told her softly, his eyes warm. 

“I didn’t marry a bastard, I married the General of the Night Court,” she disagreed, tipping her head back to press a kiss against his chin. “I only ever wanted you.“ Kora admitted softly. 18 years old. One look. And it had been done. Him or nobody.

“You have me, Princess,” he told her, pulling her tighter against his body. “Every last piece of me. Always.”

His breath tickled her ear as he spoke, and his touch made heat flush over her skin, stirring something inside of her.

“There is nothing wrong with your body,” he told her softly. “You are beautiful.”

She shivered against him, the warmth of his body and the sweetness of his words sent a rush of affection through her.

“There wasn’t one thing in the shops that fit me today. Everything was too big or too long. Unless I went into the children’s section.” Kora muttered petulantly.

Cassian chuckled, his hand roaming over her body, sliding over her hip and the pale white skin of her stomach, and up to her chest.

“Children’s clothes would be a little too small, Princess.” He commented as he began to toy with the neckline of her nightgown, slowly pulling it down to expose more of her skin.

“Why don’t we go to your favourite seamstress tomorrow?” He suggested softly. “I think you could use a new dress. Or three.”

Kora shivered as his hand brushed the side of her breast, and she curled closer to his touch. “Perhaps,” she mumbled, distracted by the feeling of his strong body against her, and the feeling of his touch.

His other hand came up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, and his mouth returned to her neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. Kora shivered, her eyes fluttering shut as heat washed over her body.

“That still doesn’t fix the problem,” she mumbled.

“What problem?” he murmured against her skin, his tongue tracing the edge of her ear and finding the spot that made her shiver. Kora arched her back in response, a soft moan escaping her mouth. “That the store doesn’t carry your size?” Cassian asked her.

No. That wasn’t the problem. She was the problem.

“That I… don’t look…” she struggled to find the words.

His hands on her body stilled and then tightened.

“Be careful how you speak about my wife.”

Her breath hitched as he held her tighter, his body flush against hers and pressed into the softness of her own. Kora could feel the hard lines of his body against her back, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

She trembled.

“Is that why you wanted to hide? Why did you shut off the light?” Cassian asked her softly. “Because you don’t feel beautiful?”

The light had been a coward’s way of hiding, a pitiful attempt to spare Cassian from seeing her body and his eventual disappointment.

“Yes,” she muttered softly. Kora closed her eyes, but he gently tipped her chin up towards his own.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered her softly.

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes and was met with Cassian’s handsome face, his dark eyes watching her.

“Did you think I didn’t like seeing you naked?” he asked her gently. Cassian was always telling her that he wanted her, desired her, that he liked looking at her like that…but she never truly believed him.

“Not…entirely,” she admitted, shifting her eyes away from his gaze.

Suddenly he was moving.

“What are you doing?” Kora asked as her husband left the bed to cross the room and pick up that dreaded mirror. she had just been standing in front of.

He lifted it like it weighed nothing.

He carried it over to her side of the bed, putting it down carefully.

“Cassian…what are you doing?” she repeated, her voice shaky. He didn’t answer, as he joined her on the bed, kneeling behind her and arranging her body so that she had no other choice but to face herself in the mirror, forcing her to look at her own reflection. 

“I am going to show you how fucking beautiful you are,” Cassian told her simply.

She swallowed, trembling in the grasp of his big hands, as he slipped the sheets from her body. Heat flooded her face as he bared her body, leaving her with no other option but to look at the reflection of her and him in the mirror.

Kora knew she was tiny, small, and weak…and there it was, right in front of her. The huge muscular form of her husband wrapped himself around her dainty frame, his huge hands against the pale white skin of her body.

“We are going to play,” Cassian said softly.

Her breath hitched at his words, and she swallowed thickly. Play. 

They didn’t play each time they took their pleasure in the marriage bed…but if they did…if they did play…if they played and the only way to get Cassian to stop wasn’t the word stop but instead “Red”...It meant that she would end the evening strung out with pleasure and absolutely wrecked. 

“Yes,” she breathed and he chuckled.

“Good, Princess,“ he praised her. Cassian’s hand began to roam over her body, sliding over her hip and stomach, and then up to her chest.

Kora gasped and arched her back slightly, pressing back against the heat of his body, letting herself give in to his touch.

“The rule this time is really simple,” Cassian told her softly. “You stop watching and I’ll stop touching you,” he warned her, his voice warm and deep. “You’ll look at yourself…and you’ll see exactly what I see when I watch you.”

Her breathing was shaky and her heart rate had picked up in speed, beating a nervous beat in her chest.

“Alright,” Kora whispered, her eyes meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. His eyes roamed over her form and then met hers once again, watching her with hunger.

His hands roamed over her body slowly, caressing her pale milky skin, feeling the softness and gentle curves of her body.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, his fingers tracing her hip. “So small… so delicate.”

That nightgown she wore was tucked over her head, leaving her utterly bare, his hands kneading her chest, callouses rubbing against rosy nipples and delicate skin.

“Look at yourself,” Cassian cooed. “You don’t look like a 12-year-old boy. I love every freckle on your face. Like constellations in the night sky.”

She shivered at his touch, his deep voice in her ear and the feel of his chest against her bare back. Cassian’s hot breath against the sensitive skin of her neck was driving her crazy.

His hand was roaming over her chest, massaging the sensitive flesh, while the other rested on her stomach, keeping her close to him.

“I hate those freckles,” she mumbled stubbornly.

And still, she couldn’t help but watch as her nipples pebbled against his touch, her breasts growing heavy and warm as arousal grew low in her belly.

“I love those freckles,” he countered, and to prove his point he leaned down and captured her shoulder between his teeth, gently nibbling the sensitive skin there.

Kora let out a soft gasp, arching her body up into his touch and leaning back against his chest.

She watched as he marked her skin, her gaze meeting his in the mirror as his tongue caressed the pale skin of her shoulder, leaving a red bruise there.

“And I love the colour of your eyes. Blue like the sky on a winter's day,” Cassian continued.

Her face flushed at his praise, and she fidgeted slightly, but his hand on her hip kept her from moving away.

He nuzzled into her hair, breathing deeply, taking in her scent.

“And your hair…so soft, and silky.” He continued. "I love grabbing it." He tugged at it as if to prove his point. He twisted her body, just enough to fold his hulking form over hers…just enough to…to suck one pebbled nipple into his mouth.

Kora shivered against him, her head falling back against his shoulder in an arch, the feeling of his mouth against her breast making heat pool low in her stomach. She couldn’t help but let out a gasp at the sensation.

Her eyes closed.

He stopped.

He bit her earlobe, “I said, don’t look away, Princess.” His voice was a rough growl, full of desire and warning. A shiver ran through her body at his words, and she quickly looked up once more at the mirror. His form completely enveloped hers, making her look even smaller in comparison.

“That’s better,” he breathed against her ear, his tongue tracing the outer shell. “Now, what was I saying? Oh right…your beautiful body.”

”I love your breasts. They are beautiful. They may be small but doesn’t keep them from being oh-so sensitive, does it?” He told her, nearly conversationally…and then he caught one between thumb and forefinger…a pinch, a tug… she squeaked at the shot of pure arousal. Her hips bucked and she bit her lip, trying to restrain herself. She was sensitive everywhere… especially there.

“Yes,” she gasped as he repeated the motion, a flush painting itself across her face.

“Gods…so sweet,” he murmured against her ear as his hands continued to tease and play with her. “Every inch of you is perfect.”

He let off her breasts but she should have known that that was only the beginning.

“I love your waist because I can simply do this,“ Cassian said softly, wrapping both hands over her waist and spanning it completely.

Her eyes fluttered shut once again as he wrapped his big hands around her waist, his touch warm on her skin. She felt the heat of his body against her back, almost completely enveloping her. He nipped her ear, “I said look. Watch yourself as I touch you.”

Kora shivered, her eyes opening to stare at their reflection.  Her skin looked pale white against his golden tan, and suddenly the size difference between them was painfully obvious. He looked so big and strong, completely dwarfing her small frame in his arms as his hands roamed over her skin. Cassian let go of her waist, keeping one massive arm banded around her, making it impossible for her to move away, as he reached between her thighs, chuckling softly.

“You are drenched for me, Princess,” Cassian cooed. Kora couldn’t help but let out a shuddering gasp as his fingers found the warm flesh of her thighs. He was right… she could feel it as he reached slowly towards her core.

“Yes,” Kora breathed.

He spread her open and she blushed scarlet at the lewd visual. But that was nothing against his voice: “ I love your cunt. I love every pretty pink part of you I get to press my fingers, my tongue, my cock into.”

She shuddered at his words and the filthy image they conjured in her mind, and she desperately wanted to look away from the mirror as her face grew hotter, but his arm kept her pinned against him. She was completely at his mercy.

“Cassian…” Kora breathed.

The arm around her waist tightened, pulling her more firmly against him.

“No shutting your eyes,” he warned her, his voice thick.

And then… then one finger grazed upwards and she nearly flinched in his arms much to his amusement. “And I love your clit. Because I only need to do this…” he whispered, circling that little nub at the apex of her thighs, the feeling immediate. She keened.  “I love this one noise that you make…this one. “

Kora arched her body as his finger began to pleasure her, and a moan escaped her lips. She was sensitive, and every touch sent sparks up her spine, making her gasp and squirm against him.

“Cassian…please…”

“Eyes open, Princess. Or I’ll stop,” he warned her, pulling back slightly and she made a noise in protest. Her eyes snapped open again, and the image in the mirror caused a fresh wave of heat to wash over her body.

His big form towered over her small body, pinning her completely and making her look smaller than she already was.

“And your little cunt doesn’t want me to stop, does it?” Another gush of wetness between her thighs. 

“No…please…don’t stop….” She panted. “Please…Please…” She didn’t know what she begged for. For him to keep touching her, or to take her right here. Both sounded good at the moment.

He chuckled, nipping her ear and then the soft skin of her neck.

“So polite for me, Princess,” he whispered, his voice low. “I like this version of you. Begging for me…”

Kora choked back a moan and he nipped her neck in retaliation.

“Don’t you dare,” Cassian threatened her sharply.“I want to hear you. I earned every fucking moan,” he told her fiercely.

Kora choked on another moan that wanted to escape…his reaction was immediate. A sharp, stinging slap right against the soft flesh of her thighs. Her cunt gushed with wetness. Her gasp of pain turned into a gasp of pleasure. Pain shot up her thigh and right into the core of her body.

“I thought I told you I wanted to be to hear you moan, Princess,” he reminded her darkly.

Her gasp of pain turned into a gasp of pleasure. Pain shot up her thigh and right into the core of her body.

“I thought I told you I wanted to be to hear you moan, Princess,” he reminded her dark.“Next time, I’ll do that to your poor cunt,” he warned her, and she gasped wide eyed, staring at him the mirror. He was watching her with a look of pure male satisfaction. “

Her breath caught in her throat at his threat.

He hadn’t done it before, at least not with that much force…and Kora couldn’t help the way his harsh words made a little shiver run down her spine.

“Y-you wouldn’t,” she said, her voice slightly shaky.

He raised an eyebrow at her, a hint of a smirk on his lips, “Are you testing me, Princess? Because I’ll do it.”

She was shivering with…soemthing, a blush staining her cheeks as she bit her lips. 

She trusted Cassian with anything. Trusted him never to lay a hand on her in anger. But the thought of him…

Cassian chuckled, the sound warm and still a little bit mean. “You want me to, don’t you, Princess?” he teased her. She swallowed. “Be a good girl and you’ll get whatever you want,” he promised her.”

A rush of excitement ran through her at this, and it was hard not to shiver. She could be good for him, she could.

Cassian’s fingers teased the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, and a moan escaped her. 

His hand went back to her clit and she pushed her ass back against him, feeling his hard and heavy cock…he chuckled as she rubbed herself against him like a cat in heat. He shifted them slightly, fitting her cock against her, but not pressing into her.

“Get me wet, Princess,” he said softly. “Come all over me. Watch yourself.”

And she did.

She watched that expression on her face, the open mouth, the messy hair…watched her gushing cunt and his massive cock pressed against her, teasing her…she wanted him inside her.

She panted and writhed against him, rubbing against him like she needed to rub against his body. He was so big and hard, and she wanted him.

She chased her first climax… she tried to touch herself but he didn’t let her with a laugh, just letting her rub against his cock and played with her breasts, even as she grew frustrated. Kora growled in annoyance, and that was what he seemed to have been waiting for her.

One single sharp stinging slap, right on her lewdly stretched cunt. Her clit just so peaking out from its hood…and she convulsed.

Kora let out a strangled cry and her whole body went rigid as pain bloomed and pleasure washed over her, leaving her dizzy and breathless. The pain was immediate and stinging, but the pleasure…It was hard to breathe, and the waves of ecstasy made black spots dance around the edges of her vision.

It wasn’t the first time that he got rough with her. But it was rare that he got this rough with her…that he was willing to let her feel more than just the edge of pain and pleasure.

And Cassian was enjoying this, she could tell. His body was warm and tense, and she could hear his uneven breathing in her ear.

Kora slumped against him, her breathing coming in sharp gasps, trembling like a rag doll.

But Cassian wasn’t done with her at all.

“Every fucking inch of your body is gorgeous. And I’ll spend the rest of your life telling you that.” he whispered.

Her hips weakly twitched, the blunt head of his cock catching onto her entrance. She let out a low gasp when she felt him press against her entrance.

“Please…” she said softly. “Please….”

She couldn’t find the words for what she needed, but her body was already responding to his touch.

“Yes, Princess?” His voice was soft against her ear, and he nipped gently at her neck, “What is it? What do you want?”

She tried to push herself back onto him, but his hands were firm as they held her hips in place.

“Please…I need you,” she panted.

“Need me where, Princess?” He teased, his hands roaming over her hips and thighs. “Where exactly do you need me?”His words sent a wave of heat through her body, and she whimpered.

“You know where,” she said, but there was enough pout in her voice to convey the begging she didn’t want to admit to. He chuckled, his hands still roaming over her body.

“I have a few ideas,” he answered as his mouth moved to the sensitive skin of her shoulder. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Kora groaned.  “I need you…inside of me…please, Cassian,” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she flushed furiously.

“Oh, do you? You are being so polite, Princess,“ he teased her. “Of course, you get what you ask for.“

And he pushed inside her, with one blunt thrust, her body needing to yield

“Oh, gods,” Kora choked out. It hurt, in a way that was sheer pleasure, the stretch of her body accommodating his size. Her hips ached, her cunt flexed against his cock.

She whimpered as he entered her, his big body pushing against her.

Her body was spread wide to accommodate him, and she shivered at the sensation. 

“Is this what you wanted, Princess?” He asked, his voice low and rough.

Kora took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. “Yes,” she panted, “Please…keep going.”

He pulled back slightly, then rocked forward, and Kora heard a breathy moan slip past her lips and into the air. He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her back, “What was that?” He asked, rocking his hips against hers.

She whimpered, staring at herself in the mirror.

Her cheeks were a rosy colour and her lips were parted slightly, but her eyes were wide and glassy and…all she could see was thick, massive cock that was spearing her, slick and shiny with her wetness. 

“C-Cassian…” she panted, her legs were weak, and she was completely supported by him, but his hands gripped her hips tightly.

One large, calloused hand braced against her stomach, spanning the space between her hipbones. And then…then he pressed down lightly.

“Oh gods,” Kora choked out. She could feel him. She could feel him.

Kora was pinned right there, pinned in place between his cock and his hand, pinned and impaled from the inside and outside and…

She gasped when she felt his hand against her abdomen. The sudden pressure from the outside made her feel even more full if that was possible.

“See?” Cassian rumbled. “Look down, Princess,” he coaxed her and she did. Kora could see her belly bulge out where he rested within her. She couldn’t help the shudder that worked its way through her body at that realisation. 

“Such a good girl, Princess. You are taking me so well,” he cooed.  It was hard to speak as the pressure built and his words washed over her, but she whined softly in answer.

Every movement he made caused a new wave of sensations that travelled up her spine and made her see stars.

Kora’s head fell back against his shoulder, exposing her neck. Cassian didn’t miss the opportunity, immediately licking and nipping the sensitive skin.

“You like this, Princess?” He asked, still not moving much and simply rocking his hips slightly, just enough to send a jolt through her body.

Kora trembled, all she could do was whimper softly in response. She could barely form coherent thoughts and was struggling to keep her eyes open. He groaned a low, guttural sound that reverberated through her body, and she whimpered.

“Tell me,” he murmured, and the sound of his voice against her skin made her whimper again. “Tell me how much you like it, Princess.”

She bit her lip, her breath hitching slightly at his words, and then she swallowed.

“I love it,” she whispered, and her voice broke slightly “Please…”

He took her hand, calloused fingers wrapped around soft, manicured ones, placing it against her belly, right there where he had just pressed down.

She could feel him. Could feel the hard length of him underneath her skin and she couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her.

„Feel,” he demanded his voice as clipped as every other he had ever given. “Feel me fucking you, Princess.” His words sent a jolt through her, and she gasped. Her hips bucked involuntarily, and her head lolled back against his shoulder.

“Cassian…feels…so good… “ she panted. Her thoughts were fuzzy, and she couldn’t focus on anything but the sensations that his body was causing to race through hers. “So full…I’m so full…” she whimpered, pressing her hand against her abdomen.

His laugh was low and dark, a contrast to her gasps,

“That is right, Princess. You are full, absolutely stuffed full with me,” he said and ground his hips against hers to emphasize his point, and Kora moaned, a soft shudder running down her spine.

Everything felt hot and hazy, and Kora’s mind was spinning. She felt like she could barely breathe. “Please…” she whispered, her voice ragged. "Please, I can…"

“Watch,” his mate insisted.

She did. Her eyes caressed over his hulking form wrapped around her…over her arched spine, her heaving breast…her cunt, allegedly spread and dripping. Over his cock, that disappeared inside her…

Her cheeks flushed and her breath hitched at the sight. She was barely even aware of the sounds that came from her mouth, high keening, gasps, small whimpers as sparks of pleasure shot through. Kora pressed her hand against the bulge in her abdomen, feeling him recede and fill her to the brim…, her moans growing more frantic as his pace increased.

“Oh gods…oh gods…” she panted. She couldn’t keep her eyes open as she shivered in his arms, her breathing growing erratic, as were his thrusts. “C-Cassian” she whimpered, “I…I can’t…I’m going to…”

“Watch!” He snapped.

And somehow she did. Kora watched.

Her whole body arched, and tensed, and then she fell apart. Kora felt like she was on fire as the waves of pleasure hit her like a tidal wave. She moaned as she lost herself, and everything was white hot for several moments. And she watched. Watched the shudders work over her body…watched the expression of utter rapture in her face…the way her body clenched down onto the cock pistoning in and out of her…

Her vision blurred, and she clenched around him. Her breath caught in her throat with a moan as she shook, and her legs gave out suddenly as her climax hit her. Her hips rocked against him desperately, each movement sending a new shiver through her body. She trembled as the last waves ebbed away, her head falling back against him.

“O-oh…Cassian…gods…I…” She could hardly speak, her vision was hazy and her mind wasn’t working properly. She panted desperately, trying to catch her breath. He hadn’t stopped moving his hips, although his pace was slower now and deeper.

The new sensations made her gasp, and for a moment she tensed up again.

“I…I can’t…it’s too…” she stammered, trying to get away, but he pinned her in place, holding her right there, like a vessel of his pleasure to be filled as he continued to fuck her, slamming his hips agaist hers. 

“You can, Princess,” he said, his voice still low and rough with lust. “You can take it…and you will.”

Kora whimpered, “No…I…I…oh…please…please please please…”

She didn’t even know what she was asking for, but her hips still rocked against his, the pleasure sparking across her skin.

His hand pressed against her stomach again, and Kora shivered at the feeling. She moaned, and his thrusts grew faster once again. His pace was relentless now, and Kora whined, arching her back.

She let out a breathy moan, and her eyelids fluttered. Her body was tense, but so full of pleasure that she couldn’t think straight. “C-Cassian…I can’t…too…too much…I…”

She could hardly form sentences.

He groaned softly, and his hips moved even faster. Kora was nearly sobbing with sensations, her hips twitching against his and her body tensing again.

Her orgasm crashed into her, the mix of pleasure and pain resulting in a hoarse cry. Too much. too much…

Her body shook, moans and whimpers escaped her gasping lips, and she went boneless in his arms, unable to do anything but quiver and moan, barely even noticing when he slammed into her one final time with a guttural growl. 

Cassian came with a roar, his body stiffening behind hers as his hips jerked into hers. He slumped against her, and Kora felt his laboured breathing against her neck. Her breath was still coming in sharp gasps, and she had no thoughts left to form. She just kneeled there, trembling, as her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Cassian pressed a soft kiss behind her ear, and she heard him whisper something, but she couldn’t catch it. The words sounded jumbled, her blood rushing in her ears…her breathing came in sharp gasps, hurting in her chest like it always did when she had physically exerted herself too much. 

A sharp cough left her throat and Cassian moved immediately.

Her mind was still to sluggish, her body trembling, that she couldn’t protest, even if she wanted to. He laid her on her side, and just a moment later, he had fitted the nebuliser over her nose and mouth. A trinket from dawn filled with medication that would ease the worst of her coughs and make it easier for her to breath. It hummed to life with push of his magic. 

Tears shot in her eyes as she weakly tried to bat him away, but Cassian held firm, keeping it in place with one hand and bracketing her trembling body with his own, holding her in place. 

“No, Princess,” Cassian said firmly. She knew arguing would be fruitless, but she still tried. Still reach up and grasped his wrist, as the mist entered her nose and mouth, trying to get him to stop. 

Cassian only pressed a kiss against her temple, covering them with the thick goose feather stuffed duvet that they only had because Kora was always cold. “No,” he repeated calmly. “Your lungs are roiling. Just breathe, Princess,” he told her and she tried to shift her head to glare at him, her body still trembling. 

“Don’t give me that luck,” Cassian said with a snort. “You were worse to me when I got my wings injured. Don’t think I don’t remember your very creative threats,” he pointed out drily. “I am willing to fuck you until you can’t breath, but not at the cost of your health,”  Cassian said quietly as he held her tighter. “And I hope this has cleared up how utterly beautiful your body is.” Her cheeks flushed at his words, and she pressed closer to him, not wanting to think about how much of a hassle she was.  Kora tried to stifle another cough, but the nebuliser left her throat feeling dry and it came out anyway, sending a shudder through her body.

She pressed his wrist again, and he let up, letting her talk. 

“I…I’m sorry,” she whispered meekly, but even the short sentences made her breath catch in her chest. Immediately, the nebuliser was replaced against her mouth.   

“Hush, princess,” he said, his voice was low and comforting. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You are beautiful and perfect, and I will not allow you to say anything less.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kora’s mouth, despite her discomfort. His words may be corny, but she couldn’t deny that they made her feel better.

She nestled against him, closing her eyes as she tried to focus on her breathing. It was still ragged, but not quite as bad as before.

Cassian’s hands moved gently through her hair, the steady motion was soothing and, combined with the nebuliser, and she started to feel a little better.

“Do you believe me now?” Cassian wondered softly, pushing her hair from her face. “For me, you are the most beautiful creature in all of fucking Prythian.”

[bea0206]

Incredible series ❤️

Stars all aligned- Masterlist

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Links:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

[bea0206]

🥵🥵

in the woods with a couple of masked men

pairing: bucky barnes & steve rogers x female reader

summary: you've been flirting with steve rogers and bucky barnes for a month at the bar you all frequent with your friends, and on Halloween, when you tell them about your fantasy of being chased through the woods by masked men or men, they decide to make it a reality.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), threesome, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m receiving), chase kink, mask kink, light bdsm, light degradation, praise kink, light choking, roughness, check-ins, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, sweet girl) aftercare, halloween shenanigans

word count: 3.6k

a/n: this was my idea for my third and final halloween fic this year and i was really disappointed that i ran out of time to do a fully developed version, but i figured i'd put together something short and (hopefully) hot. this still ended up longer than i expected, but it's much shorter than my normal halloween fics so i hope that's ok 😅 happy (almost) halloween y'all!! ♡

halloween fics masterlist

"What do you want for Halloween, pretty girl?"

"I want a masked man—or men—to chase me through the woods and fuck me to within an inch of my life," you answered, a wicked smirk curling the corners of your mouth. 

Your eyes slid away from the men you were talking to, casting a glance around the dingy dive bar that was more crowded than normal on Halloween night. You cut your eyes back to them and lifted a single shoulder in an apathetic shrug, your smirk still flirting at the edges of your lips.

"Y'know, just what every girl wants for Halloween."

You were talking to Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, who you’d met a month before Halloween. One of their friends had started flirting with one of your friends at the bar you all liked to frequent, and as that relationship blossomed into more than flirting, you started seeing them more. 

You'd gravitated to the handsome best friends, unable to resist talking to them, drinking with them, commiserating with them as your friends grew more and more flagrant with their public displays of affection. Besides, Bucky and Steve hadn't seemed to mind the way you'd laugh at their jokes—even the not-so-great ones—or lean against them when you grew tired late into the night. 

Still, you didn't know what impulse had prompted you to tell them about your deepest, darkest fantasy. It must've been some deadly combination of loneliness and recklessness, and the ease you felt when you were around Steve and Bucky. But you couldn’t bring yourself to take it back. 

Not when the men reacted by sharing a look like they planning something. Just the thought that they might be thinking about indulging your fantasy made you squeeze your thighs together and lean into the heat emanating from them.

Of course, you were also a little chilly, having worn a skimpy little dress as part of your Halloween costume, but you leaned closer to Steve and Bucky in the crowded bar for warmth and to inhale the intoxicating scent of their cologne, which sent more curls of heat dancing through your veins. 

Without looking away from each other, their arms wrapped around you and they crushed you between their chests while they continued their silent conversation. You waited patiently, soaking up Bucky and Steve’s warmth until they turned to you, matching grins on their faces.

After a hushed conversation and a couple rounds of Steve and Bucky asking, "Are you sure you want this, sweet girl?" you found your friends and told them you were leaving with the men. 

You told your friends you had your phone on you and promised to keep your location turned on, to check in when you were on your way home. Your friends cackled happily for you and shooed you off with Bucky and Steve. 

When you got to the woods, Steve and Bucky each slipped on a Ghostface mask. Your breath caught in your lungs when you saw the big, muscled men dressed in all black and wearing the masks, your heart beating faster in your chest as excitement and desire churned in your belly. 

One of them said they were giving you a 30-second head start, so you turned and bolted into the trees, running as fast as you could to put as much distance between you and them in the short time they’d given you. But only 10 seconds later, you heard them start to chase you. 

You didn't have the breath to call out and accuse them of cheating, you were too focused on making the game as hard for them as possible. So you ran harder through the woods, losing them in the spindly trees cast in shades of silvery blue by the light of the moon.

For long moments, you ran without hearing anything behind you. You didn't know if you were truly giving Bucky and Steve a run for their money or if they were playing with you, but you didn't hear them chasing you until your lungs were burning and your legs were aching. 

All at the same time, you heard a twig snap, the rustle of leaves. A hand snatched at your skimpy little dress, snapping it against your skin when you pulled out of their grasp. A grunt of frustration sounded as a scream welled in your throat, but you couldn't let it loose through your panting, gasping breaths as you ran on. 

Fingers closed around your wrist and you shrieked in surprise, whirling around to wrench yourself free as you ran, turning to look over your shoulder and catching a glimpse of the eerie white Ghostface mask with its yawning, wide open mouth. 

That glance you spared for your pursuer would be what got you caught—the first time.

With your head turned to look over your shoulder, you didn't see where you were going, and you crashed right into a big, hard chest. You bounced off it with your momentum, but strong arms wound around your waist, holding you pinned to the warm body pressed flush to your curves.

"Got you, baby," came a muffled voice through the mask.

You couldn't for the life of you tell which man it was, whether it was Bucky or Steve. Although, it didn’t really matter to you, your body burned with desire for each of them equally. 

"What're you gonna give me to let you go?” the man taunted, his mask tipping down in such a way that you knew his eyes were dragging down to your cleavage, which was in danger of spilling out over the low neckline of your dress. "C'mon, slut, you look like you know how to please a man—so please me, and I'll let you go."

Arousal swirled through your body at the degrading way he spoke to you—you’d told Steve and Bucky back at the bar that you liked a little degradation and you were pleased that they were running with it. You couldn't help the impish smirk that spread across your face in response to the man’s filthy request.

"You're right, dirty man, I know exactly what to give you," you purred running your hands down the man's chest and trying to catch his eye through the mask. 

Staring into the spooky visage of the Ghostface mask, you began lowering yourself to your knees and the man helped guide you down. His hands worked open the front of his jeans, undoing them and pulling out his cock while you settled on the cold, leaf-covered ground.

Without preamble, you sucked the man's half-hard cock into your mouth, relishing the way he groaned above you. His hands cradled your head, petting you idly while you licked along the velvety soft shaft, humming happily as you felt him harden against your tongue. He tasted musky, his scent filling your senses and making you gush with wetness between your thighs.

The man’s moans were loud in the forest as you bobbed on his cock, sucking him harder and faster and pushing him closer to his release. Distantly, you wondered where the other man was, but didn't concern yourself overmuch with it as you focused on making the man in front of your cum.

When you could feel that he was just about to let go, his thick cock throbbing against your tongue, you pulled away and broke free from his hold, leaping to your feet and darting off into the woods. His ferocious, frustrated roar followed you through the trees and you couldn't help the cackling laughter that tumbled from your lips as you ran.

Immediately, you could hear the man crashing through the underbrush after you and you had to wonder if he'd even paused to put his cock away before bolting after you. 

It seemed you hadn’t learned your lesson, because you risked a glance over your shoulder, trying to get a peak of whether he was chasing you with his cock out, and at that moment, a hand reached out and grabbed your arm, towing you into another strong, broad chest.

"What'd you do to him, sweetheart?" came another muffled voice as the second man pinned your back against a tree, caging you in with his thick arms.

You couldn't help but laugh as you told him how you'd left the other man with his cock out and throbbing with need, teetering on the edge of his release. From behind his eerie Ghostface mask, the man in front of you tsked, shaking his head slowly, almost like he pitied you.

"You're gonna pay for that, pretty girl," he murmured in a husky, muffled voice. His hands slid down the sides of your body, making you shiver at the way he groped you softly, reverently. He was cupping your tits and squeezing your hips in a way that made your body hum with heat as he said, "If you're a good girl for me, maybe I'll convince him to go easy on you."

Warm palms skimmed down the outside of your thighs, fingers curling in the hem of your dress before pushing it up higher and higher… 

You almost wanted to give in, to be good for him. Almost.

Instead, you scoffed, "Yeah, right,” and shoved roughly against the man's muscled chest. Though he barely budged, the movement dislodged his hands from your body and you managed to slip away from him, taking off again into the woods.

The man's loud laughter followed you, which was even more deliciously terrifying than the other man's roar had been. 

Fleeing from both of the men, you tried to run harder, but you were growing tired—both of running and the game.

It was a good thing, then, that you didn't get far. 

It seemed Bucky and Steve were sick of the game as well, because only a few seconds after the man’s laughter died in the night sky, a large body crashed into your back, tackling you to the forest floor. 

Whoever caught you wound an arm around your waist and braced a hand against the ground so you didn't get hurt, but you still landed with a soft, "oof," of surprise. The body at your back covered you with its weight, pushing you deeper into the cold, damp leaves blanketing the dirt.

"I'm gonna make you regret leaving me like that, slut," said a gruff, menacing voice in your ear. A hand was pushing up your dress and ripping your panties down your legs while another was fumbling with a zipper, his knuckles grazing your bare ass. 

The head of a cock grazed your folds, which were drenched with your desire, and your fingers sank into the soft soil beneath you as you arched into him, biting back a desirous moan. The man's hand grabbed your waist, leaning over you so the cold plastic of the Ghostface mask butted into your shoulder. 

"You good, pretty girl?" he rumbled, his voice gentler as he checked in with you.

Your body, which had been tense an intoxicating mix of fear and arousal, relaxed at the question and you smiled, turning your head to catch the man's eye through the mesh of the mask. You shot him a playful smirk.

"Fuck me hard, filthy man," you purred, arching beneath him and pushing against the hard ridge of his cock so it slid through your slippery folds. "Show me how a dirty little slut like me deserves to be fucked."

The man groaned, shifting his hips so he could sink into your wet heat with one thrust, wringing a cry from your lips as his thick girth stretched your tight cunt. When his hips were pressed flush with your ass, he paused and you both took a moment to breathe and adjust to the feel of him inside your pussy.

You didn’t know if the other man had been watching you, timing it perfectly, but it was at that exact moment that he stepped in front of you, dropping down onto his knees as he undid the button and fly of his jeans. He spread his thick thighs and sank down onto his haunches so his cock was level with your face when he pulled it out. 

"Why don't you show me what that pretty mouth can do, sweet girl," the man cooed, his voice distractingly patronizing even muffled through the mask. "Be a good girl and suck my cock while your pussy gets pounded."

You didn't need any more encouraging than that, lifting yourself up onto your arms so you could lick along the thick ridge on the underside of the man's cock, smirking when he groaned. 

"Ya like that, perv?" you teased in between pressing wet, suckling kisses to the velvet-wrapped steel of his shaft. "Like getting your cock played with by a slut you caught in the woods?" 

"Fuck yes," he groaned, cupping your head in his hands and urging you closer to the tip. You wrapped your lips around the head, enjoying the taste of his precum leaking onto your tongue, and sucked him hard. "Oh fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, sweetheart."

You'd planned to tease the man's tip a little longer, but the man behind you seemed to be done letting you adjust to having two cocks in your holes. He pulled his hips back and slammed inside you again, burying his full length in your pussy and pushing you forward, forcing you to take the other man deeper. 

The cock in your mouth brushed against the back of your throat and you gagged at the unexpected feeling. The man in front of you sat back quickly, pulling free of your lips and letting you suck in air while you coughed and recovered.

"Careful, dickhead," he growled, his voice still muffled through his mask so you couldn't tell whether he was Steve or Bucky. His hands idly stroked the top of your head and you found yourself leaning into the soft gesture.

"Sorry," the other man mumbled, his hands squeezing your hips apologetically.

"No, no, I want it rough," you said in a husky voice, straining your body to get your mouth back on the cock in front of your face. You pressed a kiss to the underside of the man's length, looking up at him from under your lashes. "I told you not to hold back—I want everything you can give me, please.” 

"Fuck," the man in front of you grunted at the same time the man behind you groaned, starting to thrust into you slowly, making you feel every inch of his cock dragging along the inside of your pussy. The man who'd spoken stroked his fingers down your cheeks, catching a tear that had escaped when you'd gagged. "You're gonna spoil us, sweet girl, letting us use your pretty holes like that."

"Good," you said firmly, before swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, moaning at the taste of him. You couldn’t wait to swallow his cum, to be filled of both of them. “Then maybe you guys will do this again with me."

"Fuck yes we will, baby," the man behind you groaned, covering you with his body and pinning you into the forest floor while his hand wrapped loosely around the front of your throat. His mask bumped against your cheek as he spoke in your ear. "We'll fuck you anytime and anywhere you want, pretty girl—all ya gotta do is ask."

A delirious smile curved your lips and you were just about to make some sassy comment, but then he thrust hard into your pussy, wrenching a sharp cry from your mouth as pleasure spiraled through your body. The other man used the opportunity of your parted lips to thrust his cock inside your mouth, careful not to go too deep. 

Steve and Bucky worked your body in tandem, one of them pinning you to the cold ground and fucking you from behind, while the other held your head steady and fucked your mouth. All you could do was take everything they gave you, never knowing which one was which, moaning as they pushed you to the edge of pleasure.

You were writhing on the ground, your hands grasping at the damp leaves and the thick, jeans-clad thighs of the man in front of you, searching for something to hold onto as your pleasure spiraled higher. You were arching your back to take the cock deeper into your pussy, whining pitifully as you begged wordlessly for your release, unable to control yourself when you were so desperate to cum.

The men must've understood because they hauled you up onto your hand and knees, never removing their cocks from your holes. As they continued to fuck you, they positioned your body so that the man behind you could slip his hand between your thighs and find your needy, aching clit.

"Cum for us, slut," he growled in your ear. 

The other man thumbed the tears from your cheeks as he pushed his cock deep into your mouth. He'd opened your throat enough for him so you didn't gag too much, but he fucked you through it anyway, until his cock was rubbing against the other man's hand as it bulged in your neck. 

"Be a good girl, sweetheart, and cum on our cocks," the man in front of you urged, his balls pushing against your chin as he buried himself in your mouth and groaning when your muscles contracted as you swallowed around him. "Wanna feel you scream on my dick."

"Yeah, baby, gotta feel your sweet cunt milk me," the other man groaned into your ear, rubbing your clit unrelentingly while he pounded into you hard enough you could hear the sharp sounds of his hips smacking against your ass. "C'mon, don't you want us to fill your holes with our cum—cum for your masked men, sweet girl.”

You didn't know what tipped you over the edge—whether it was the muffled, filthy words or the fingers on your clit, or the pair of cocks ruthlessly fucking your holes—but something set you off, and you came harder than you ever had before.

A shrieking scream worked its way up inside you, making the man in front of you moan loudly when your throat constricted around his hard length. The man behind you grunted as your pussy clenched on his cock, and he buried himself to the root, moaning at the feel of your inner walls sucking him in deeper.

Pleasure consumed your mind thoroughly, overwhelming you entirely as your body trembled violently. You tried to stay in position for the men, but you knew it was their hands more than your own strength holding you up as the ecstasy of your release wrecked you.

The man in front of you came first, holding your head pinned to his abdomen and spilling his seed down your throat while you swallowed weakly, some of it spilling out around the shaft of his cock and joining the spit and tears making a mess of your face. 

The other man followed a moment later, pressing his hips flush against your ass and coming with a filthy groan, his mask pressed to your shoulder blade and his arms wrapped around your waist while you felt his cock twitch deep inside you.

In the cold, dark forest on Halloween night, the three of you rode out your pleasure together for long, hazy moments. But when the chill of the air seeped into your cooling skin and you began to shiver, Bucky and Steve pulled themselves free from your body and gathered you up in their strong arms. 

Together, they helped you stand, fussing around you as they fixed your dress and tugged leaves from your hair. One of them draped a hooded sweatshirt around your shoulders while the other used your discarded panties to clean the mess from between your thighs.

You'd lost track of who was who as they circled around you to clean you up, so even when Steve and Bucky pulled off their Ghostface masks, you didn't know which of them had fucked your mouth and which had fucked your pussy. 

You didn't care overmuch, it was fun not knowing. Besides, you knew if you asked, they'd tell you which man was which.

"Doing good, pretty girl?" Steve cooed sweetly, dropping his lips to kiss your cheek. His fingers smoothed away the grit of your ruined makeup, making you smile.

"Yeah, so good," you said in a dreamy, breathless voice, catching his eye so he could see the honesty in your gaze when you told him, "Best Halloween ever." 

Bucky chuckled at your statement and tucked you into his side beneath his arm, turning you in a direction you assumed would bring you back to the car they’d driven out to the woods.

"Let's get you home, sweet girl," Bucky murmured, brushing a kiss against your temple while Steve slid in on your other side, his arm wrapping around your waist. They held you clutched between their bodies, and you felt nothing but warm, sated and happy. "You've had your halloween fun with your two masked men, now it's time to rest."

"Yes, sir," you said on an exhale. Though you'd been trying for a playful tone, your voice was soft and sweet and you found you meant it. You trusted them to take care of you, and you let your head fall on Steve's shoulder, snuggling into him while you let the best friends guide you back to the car.

Once Bucky had tucked you into his lap on the passenger’s seat, you texted your friends to let them know you were ok while Steve drove you home. The men helped you inside and, at your request, stayed the night, cuddling up with you in your bed. 

That night, you fell asleep with a smile on your face snuggled between Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes knowing you got what every girl wants (or, at least, what you wanted): some fun in the woods with a couple of masked men—and a Halloween night to remember.

halloween fics masterlist

[bea0206]

the butchery of the beloved, the boulder, the bimbo and the brilliant

kinktober, day twenty-five

a/n: ahhh, it's finally time to share the kinktober fic you all helped shape!! it turned out so fucking unhinged and i love it. happy halloween, folks!

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

summary: “they–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

warnings: dark!rafe cameron x innocent!reader, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, slasher au, final girl!reader, 00’s slutty horror movie vibes, found family, nonverbal, murder, violence, blood, gore, crying, alcohol consumption, possessiveness, jealousy, mask kink, kissing, size kink, belly bulge, manhandling, dirty talk, just the tip, pussyjob, oral, spit kink, impact play, pain kink, choking, bondage, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, references to anal/painal

word count: 7400

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

It all started at a lunch table, as so many friendships do. 

The first one to sit was Hana, the nurturing soul of the group who had been a genius even back then. The next to join was Brian, the blonde bombshell whose smile brightened any room he entered. Then came Oliver, the guy who at 12 years old had stood up to the bully you couldn’t face yourself and swore from that day on he’d do so for each and every one of you till the end of your days. And lastly, there was you, in many ways the glue of the little pack. 

To say that the four of you were thick as thieves didn’t even begin to cover it, as you’d been there for each other in every up and down in each of your lives since adolescence. Even when your mother passed, especially when your mom passed, that’s when you truly knew that they weren’t just your pals, but your family. 

“Oh wow,” you breathed as you gazed out the window to the destination you’d finally reached, “is this really your dad’s cabin?” you glanced over your shoulder at the man behind the wheel, a proud smirk ever on his lips.

“Yep,” Rafe nodded and reached down to put the car in park. 

You’d met him at the beginning of this semester and it hadn’t taken you very long at all to fall embarrassingly and completely head over heels for the guy. 

Though he wasn’t the first boyfriend to grow to be a part of the tight-knit clique, he hadn’t been welcomed with open arms as you remembered Jerome, Brian’s partner, had two years ago. The gentle giant of few words had melted into your dynamic so naturally that none of you remembered any longer a time before him. But it wasn’t like that this time, not with Rafe. For some reason, your friends just couldn’t warm up to the frat guy you loved so dearly. 

As you heard the other car roll to a stop behind you, the vehicle where the four remaining resisted, your fingers dipped down into your pocket and fished out your phone to snap a photo of the luxurious lake house and its breathtaking views, though that’s when you noticed the lack of bars up in the upper corner of the screen.

“Oh, damn it…” you squinted down at your phone, “is there seriously no service out here?” 

“Yeah, sorry I forgot to tell you,” Rafe snatched out the keys, “this place is pretty off-grid, you have to probably walk half an hour or something to get any signal.”

The dry leaves on the forest floor crunched beneath your shoes as you stepped out of the car and tipped your head back to glance up at how high the surrounding pine trees stretched up towards the cloudy sky. 

As Rafe hopped up onto the wide porch and fiddled with a bundle of keys to unlock the place, your gaze kept finding him as you hung back a while and helped your friends unload their car.

“Can you all please promise to play nice this weekend?” you quietly asked them. 

“Yeah,” Oliver huffed, yanking out a heavy duffle bag, “I’ll play nice if he does, which I sincerely doubt since I haven’t yet discovered one kind bone in his body.” 

“Oh, come on,” you defended your beau, “he’s the one who suggested this trip so that you could all finally discover what a sweet guy he actually is,” before you all ascended the short steps and filtered into the abode. 

Not soon after you all crossed the threshold, Rafe’s arms seized your waist and drew you back against him, whispering in your ear that he wanted to give you the grand tour of the house. 

However, when you reached the room that was to belong to the two of you for the rest of the weekend, his ulterior motives for the journey around the cabin became crystal clear. 

At first, when he wrapped his arms around you from behind as you gazed out the tall windows at the foot of the bed, a giggle bubbled in your belly as you felt his desire poke the small of your back. Though it was already during his palm’s swift voyage under the hem of your shirt and up towards your boobs that he let slip what crucial item he’d neglected to pack. 

“You didn’t bring any condoms?” you twisted around to glare at the persistence that still sparkled in his eyes.

“Oh, come on, don’t let that fact spoil our fun,” he pulled you back into his arms, “don’t you want me to dick you down this weekend, huh?” he murmured in your ear.

“Well, I don’t wanna get pregnant,” you slowly pushed him back, “so it’ll just have to be another weekend.”  

But then he seized your hand and brought it down to the palpable tent in his jeans, “babe, come on. Just feel how hard I am. You can’t just leave me like this, not when it’s your fault to begin with.”

Your mouth then fell open as a shy scoff rolled off your tongue, “I literally haven’t done a thing, how is it my fault?”

“Come on, don’t act like a prude,” his grip around your wrist shifted and it slid down to rub your palm against his hardness, “be a good girl and at the very least get down on your knees.”

“No,” you chuckled lightly and pushed yourself off of him enough to stumble closer towards the bedroom’s exit, “if you’re so desperate, then take care of it yourself.” 

Even though winter was creeping ever nearer, each one of you still dared to go down to the lake’s small pier and soak up the mild rays of autumn sun that peeked out behind the clouds. Both Hana and Oliver even gathered enough courage to take a dip in the cool water, though weren’t successful in any of their attempts at talking the rest of you into the same. 

Though when your friends in the water began to splash at one another, Oliver teasingly let some splatter upon Brian as he sat on the edge, eyes closed and face turned up towards the sky as he relaxed back against his boyfriend. 

“Oh my god! Don’t!” he tensely straightened up, his tone startling Jerome enough that his palm that rested on Brian’s waist tightened, “stop! You’re giving me flashbacks to summer camp!” 

As you heard your grinning friend in the lake apologise, you opened your mouth to note, “that’s right, I forgot you went to camp when we were kids.”

“Yeah, it was honestly revolting,” Brian recoiled slightly at the recollection, “mosquitoes, terrible food, even worse people. Had a big old lake just like this one,” he gestured to the surrounding landscape. 

“Actually,” Rafe then spoke up, his voice booming to your ears as he sat directly behind you, his legs slotted on either side of your frame as his chin rested atop your shoulder, “this place used to be a summer camp too back when my dad bought it.”

“Really?” Hana glanced up from the water, their childish game now halted. 

“Yeah, I mean,” Rafe cast a glance over his shoulder at the structures on the bank just behind him, “it had been abandoned and completely deserted for a long time, but a lot of the buildings, the main house and the shed and stuff, they’re the original cabins just renovated.”

“Your dad bought an abandoned camp?” Oliver scrunched up his face, “okay, creepy…”

“Oh, hell no, I’m out,” Brain began to unravel, “babe, if we wake up in the middle of the night to a ghost child standing at the foot of our bed, it’s your job to take care of it,” he glanced over his shoulder at Jerome, “I’m too delicate and pretty to deal with the paranormal, especially if it’s kids,” to which his boyfriend simply hummed in agreement and soothingly let his palm run down his partner’s arm.

“Oh, this place isn’t haunted,” Hana said after she’d swam up to clutch against the side of the pier, “calm down.”

“Well, you don’t know that, it might be,” the blonde man behind you shrugged, “especially with what apparently happened here back in the day…”

“What are you talking about?” you looked back at him. 

“Well, back like forty years ago or something, when this was still a camp, there was this one counsellor who one day just went nuts, like snapped and murdered every single person there,” Rafe told, purposely making his tone more ominous the further into the story he got, “that’s why the place was shut down and abandoned, why no one ever wanted to return it to its former glory. It’s one of the most gruesome unsolved cases in this entire corner of the country.”

“Wait, unsolved?” Brian clutched his imaginary pearls. 

“Yeah, the guy was never caught, supposably never even left these woods…” he then leaned in and attempted to truly spook you all, “at night if you listen closely, you can still hear him sharpening his blade, getting ready to hunt his next prey…”

Hana, assuming that he was only joking, let out a dry laugh to cut the tense silence that had fallen over you all, “okay, very funny, ha-ha.” 

“Yeah,” you gently rubbed your boyfriend’s arm as you tried to shake the tale off of you, “let’s maybe not joke about psychopaths running around a rural area when we actually are in a rural area,” though goosebumps still pricked and tingled every inch of your skin. 

“Wait, how did it go?” your giggle mingled with Oliver’s as you both leaned against the kitchen counter, nearly bumping your foreheads together from how hard you were laughing, “was it…” and you began to hum a faint melody. 

“No because, remember, at the end it went,” your friend cut you off and then made his own attempt, though much more accurate than your own, causing your eyes to promptly light up with recognition before they crinkled together in laughter as he tried to hit the high note at the end. 

Once the woods surrounding the cabin had succumbed to darkness, the group of you all decided to wrap the day up in a bit of merriment, going through Rafe’s father’s liquor stash and turning up the music. 

During your and Oliver’s secluded moment in the kitchen away from the rest, your laughter caused you to sway even closer to one another, your palm naturally planting itself on his chest as your faces nearly touched. 

Though just as the pair of you were doubled over, a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Oh,” your grin continued as you spotted your boyfriend, “hey baby,” though your laughter finally began to fade. 

Staring daggers at the man beside you, Rafe then uttered coldly, “hey,” before his feet carried him straight towards you, seized your waist and twisted you away from your friend and towards himself to capture your lips. 

“Okay, right,” Oliver exhaled as Rafe kept marking his territory, kissing you way more passionately than he needed to, “I’ll just see you guys back in the living room then…”

You tried to tilt away enough to utter your friend a reply, though your boyfriend didn’t allow you, only let you go once Oliver was long gone and Rafe returned to his original plan of cracking open the fridge to get a cold beer for himself. 

Walking back out into the living room while your boyfriend scavenged for a bottle opener, you plopped yourself back down on the couch, on the opposite side to where Brian and Jerome were snuggled up. Next to where the lit fireplace crackled sat Oliver in a chair and not far from his feet on the fuzzy carpet rested Hana, legs crisscrossed as she held up her wine glass to stare through it. 

When Rafe rejoined you all, a freshly glowing cigarette trapped between his lips as he sauntered out of the kitchen, he situated himself right beside you, making space for himself where there hadn’t really been previously. In his hand, he didn’t just balance his own drink, but also a stout glass filled with an amber liquid, one he swiftly handed off to you even though you hadn’t asked for it, yet that had still been the routine of the evening, and after the first one was sloshing on your belly, the others became harder to deny and not accidentally sip absentmindedly, especially when he’d playfully help you along by tilting the glass the remaining distance up towards your lips. 

“Sweetie,” Hana soon leaned closer to utter for your ears only, “don’t you want a glass of water instead?” 

Though your boyfriend beside you unfortunately overheard and grasped his cigarette between two of his longer fingers, a puff of smoke accompanying his words as he answered before you got the chance to, “she’s fine.”

From across the couch, as Hana scooted back to her spot on the carpet, having not caught the quiet interaction, Brian then suggested, “why don’t we play a game or something?” 

“What, like truth or dare?” Hana leaned back against an unoccupied armchair. 

“No, this isn’t a slumber party. Isn’t there like board games here?”

Brian’s glance then drifted to Rafe as he smothered his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and, without warning, pulled you into his lap and caught Oliver’s eye from across the room as he shamelessly let his hands wander across your frame.  

“Uh, yeah. There should be some in the cabinet over there,” Rafe vaguely gestured before his lips began to nip at the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter and only half watched along as Brian then got up to skim through the aforementioned cupboard. 

“Okay,” he glanced through the options, “there are cards, so we could play poker or something,”

“No way,” Oliver swiftly shook his head and shot a glance at Jerome’s bulky form, comfortably slumped on the couch, “I’m not repeating that fiasco again.” 

“Aw,” Brian glanced back at his friend, “but it was so cute seeing my boyfriend fucking demolish you,” and Jerome, the quiet man he was, just let out a grunt in agreement.

“No, pick something else,” Oliver waved a hand. 

“Well, we’ve got monopoly, scrabble, cards against humanity–, uh! There’s clue!” he excitedly picked up the box and spun around, “oh, work! Let’s play that!” 

With his kisses still dancing along your skin, they then suddenly ceased as Rafe announced, “you guys go ahead, I think Y/n is ready for bed.” 

Shooting a concerned glance at how your intoxicated form wobbled slightly as your boyfriend helped you up on your feet, Hana uttered, “oh, are you sure?” 

“She is,” Rafe’s touch clung to you, “aren’t you babe?” 

“Oh, uhm…” you hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that he mentioned it, as if he himself planted the thought in your hazy mind, all of the alcohol had in fact made you pretty sleepy, “yeah, I guess so.” 

“Alright, well then,” Hana’s voice stayed slightly hesitant, “sleep tight.”

“I love you guys,” you blew the group kisses as Rafe helped you over towards the stairs. 

His kisses made you even more dizzy than you already were, so when you stumbled over the threshold into your shared room, you flopped down onto the mattress, though you weren’t quite sure if you’d just fallen or if Rafe had manhandled your intoxicated and pliant frame, giving you a push before his form was atop of yours. 

Though now that you were horizontal and with the weight of a frat boy squishing you further down into the bed, that was when you truly noticed just how much you’d had to drink that evening. 

The room was spinning as Rafe made out with you, his palms raking across your body like a wild storm, squeezing every soft curve he could get his hands on. As one hand disappeared up your skirt, his kisses wandered down and over your throat to the bit of your chest that was exposed in the neckline of your top. Wasting no time at all, he then yanked down the hem, catching one of the cups of your bra as well as he unwrapped your tit like a present. 

As his face was buried in your boobs, surely giving you hickeys from the way that he sucked at your pebbly nipple and the surrounding sensitive skin, a breathless attempt at halting his affections left your lungs, “baby–” 

Though he didn’t take the whimper as you’d intended it and simply continued, “shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he yanked down the other sliver of mesh fabric covering your other boob, “god, these tits are just insane.” 

Weakly, you ran your fingers through his buzzed hair and gasped as you felt his hardness grind into your covered core, “Rafe, I–” 

“Yeah?” his lips began to flutter back up to your own as he let himself rock against you with more intent, “you want this big dick, huh?” 

“No, we can’t, we don’t have a–”

“Oh come on, baby,” he shifted, slipping a hand down under the waistband of your skirt and into your underwear, not hesitating to sweep his fingers through your wetness and bully your little button, “I know you want to…” 

“Stop, that feels too good,” you tried, but couldn’t yank his strong hand away, “you can’t–, I have to get up and brush my teeth.” 

“You know, all my exes let me tap it raw,” he purred in your ear and attempted to guilt you, “why won’t you? Don’t you trust me?” his touch then suddenly disappeared, but only to tug down the zipper on the side of your short skirt.

“Of course I do, I just–”

“Then why won’t you let me make you feel good, huh?” he yanked both your skirt and panties down your legs, so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. Crawling off of your jelly-like form, he stood tall and loomed at the foot of the bed. Wasting no time, he yanked your core closer to the edge before he desperately freed his fat cock. The taps he then offered your glistening cunt, letting you reel in the weight of his length, “doesn’t that feel nice, baby?” he smirked at the way your mouth fell open, “because it sure seems like your little pussy thinks so, just look,” you followed his command and glanced down to spot how his intimidating girth nudged at your weepy petals. 

Even after months of dating, you still hadn’t gotten used to the daunting size of him. 

“Oh, fuck…” your brows knitted together. 

“Just listen to that,” he flicked the bulbous tip through your slick folds with more vigour, causing the melody of your want to echo even louder throughout the bedroom, “you’re so fucking wet. You want it so bad…”

You then felt yourself fade away into the intoxicating sensation, letting him continue to fuck your fold and make your pussy drool even further till your eyes fluttered shut. 

However, it didn’t take very long at all, through all of the hazy motions, before the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside. 

“Rafe!” you gasped, eyes snapping back open as your spine lurched off the mattress just an inch. 

“Fuck,” he let out a loud groan, “sorry, babe. You’re just too soaked, it slipped in,” though didn’t move at all to pull it back out, since it had secretly been completely on purpose, “christ, you’re so tight…”

As he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, you pleaded once more, “Rafe…” quietly begging for him to take it out through the conflicting haze as the familiar sensation of him stuffing you full always shut your brain completely off.

“This doesn’t count,” he claimed as he began to move, pumping just the bulbous head of himself in and out of your little hole, “not really. I can fuck you with just the tip, right?” a few of his fingers then lowered to strum your clit and summon a loud moan from deep within your soul, “yeah, that’s what I thought…”

As he removed his fingers from your clit, he then stuffed them in your mouth, muffling your soft whimpers and letting you suck them clean of your juices. As the taste of yourself coated your tongue, your own hands came up to clutch his, holding it near as you soon let your pecks wander across his palm and even down to plant a soft kiss to the gold ring that never left his finger.

“Oh–,” a gasp then left your lungs as he suddenly pushed in a bit more of his length, “Rafe, that’s too deep,” selfishly letting himself feel more of your warmth. 

“No, that’s not too deep,” he began to fuck you properly, making you lose your breath, “you wanna know what is too deep?” a purposefully harsh thrust then buried itself so far inside of you that a tingle of pain joined the pleasure, “that’stoo deep,” he then retracted just a tad, though still filled you up completely with each long stroke, “this is just right.” 

“We can’t–,” you foggily tried to shake your head. 

“Yes, we can. Just look how good you’re taking me, baby,” the palm you’d been clutching then escaped your grasp and scooped behind your head to tilt your neck and lock it there, directing your glance down between your bodies and forcing you to spot the faint bulge that appeared at each one of his mind-melting thrusts, “you don’t wanna stop…”

Feeling that all too familiar high begin to fuzz up your periphery, you trembled, “o-oh, fuck…” 

“You feel so fucking good…” he grunted as your pussy began to clench around his fat girth, “just let me use you for a bit, yeah?” 

“I–, I–,” gasps of air expanded your lungs as his pace then thrust you over the edge, “holy shit…” and your cunt helplessly clambered around him. 

In your orgasmic haze, Rafe then abruptly flipped you around for you to lay on your stomach, and you barely managed to process it before you felt the weight of him settle atop of you, smooshing you down into the mattress as he slid back in. 

“Ah!” you yelped at the way he didn’t hold back, “Rafe, it’s too much,” not even bothering to grant you a chance to recover, but simply fucked through your soreness, “I can’t–”

“Oh, shut up, you can take it,” he growled in your ear, his feet hooking your ankles and spreading your shaky legs further for him, “take it like the good little slut you are.”

It was strange how he’d taught your body to love the pain he inflicted. Even if the source was just his god-given gift of a girth, or curse, all depending on your point of view, and not the roughness he occasionally let slip out of the dark depths he tried to hide his jagged sides in for you and you alone.  

“Fuck,” you soon heard him groan as his heavy sack slapped against your cunt at each one of his furious rocks, “I’m gonna cum!” 

“Pull out–,” you managed to mumble into the sheets.

“What?” he kept on pounding your poor pussy. 

“Not inside,” you tilted your head a bit to beg, “please!”

“Oh my god, fine,” he then begrudgingly pulled out and with one hand flipped you back onto your stomach as the other wrapped around his cock and he began to fuck his fist. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he crawled further up your body till his thighs caged you in, denting the mattress on either side of your face. He didn’t even wait for your lips to part before he shoved his dick down your throat, making you gag as he groaned loudly above you, “fuck…” and fed you his load.  

When he soon flopped down on the bed beside you, the both of you catching your breaths, you instinctively gulped down what he’d given you before you curled your frame into his side. 

As he wrapped an arm beneath your head, his glance then flickered down to you as he caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting you up to him before he asked, “did you swallow it?” digging his digit slightly into your skin and making you open your mouth for him, letting him discover the answer him himself, “fuck… that’s my girl…” he groaned before dipping down to kiss you. 

The peck however didn’t carry on for long as his warmth then suddenly disappeared. 

“Where are you going?” you watched as he got up, reaching out your arms to him in a silent plea for cuddles. 

“I’m thirsty,” he zipped his pants back up, though didn’t bother with his shirt, “you just try and fall asleep, I’ll be right back.” 

Flashing him a drowsy smile, “okay,” you then tug the duvet over your form and let your gaze shadow him as he made his way out of the room. 

You thought you hadn’t managed to fall asleep, but evidently, you had as when the door to the room suddenly burst open, you were jolted awake, Rafe as well stirring as he was now settled behind you with an arm draped over your frame. 

As three of your friends rushed to slam the door behind them, Rafe propped himself up and mumbled, “hey, what the fuck–”

But Hana then cut him off, a downright terrified look plastered not only all over her own face, but the rest as well.

“Oliver’s dead,” she uttered through the tears that thickened up her voice. 

Still groggy, you slowly sat up and murmured, “what?”

Snapping her bloodshot eyes to lock with yours, she bellowed, “Oliver is fucking dead!” 

As your gaze flickered over the group in search of any sign that what she claimed wasn’t true, you heard Rafe behind you exhale, “okay, this isn’t funny.”

“Oh shut up, you dick!” Brian shot back, doubled over in the corner, hyperventilating as Jerome kneeled before him, trying to calm him down. 

“Hey, hey,” you gently raised up a hand, “don’t talk to him like that. What the hell do you mean Oliver is dead?”

“I mean that he’s dead as in dead, dead,” Hana explained, her words causing the world to suddenly crumble all around you, “Jerome went outside to get something from the car and found him on the porch, not moving and with his head stuck under the water in the hot tub.” 

With tears now stinging the corners of your eyes, you struggled to suck in a breath of air, “what?”

“It’s that fucking ghost story you told us,” Brian panicked in the corner, “it’s real, isn’t it?” 

“Okay,” Rafe uttered as the both of you leapt out of bed and scrambled to get some clothes on, “let’s all just calm down.”

“We gotta call the police,” Hana said, to which Jerome swiftly pulled out his phone, only to then curse quietly as he discovered what Brian too noticed when he glanced over his shoulder. 

“Fuck, we can’t, there’s no signal!”

Hana then glanced around at everyone, “well then one of us has gotta drive and find some, right?” 

“Hell no,” Brian shuttered, “if there’s some psycho out in these woods, then I’m not staying behind to get murdered. We’re all going.”

So that’s how, after you’d all scurried downstairs and filtered out through the sliding door to the porch, that you saw the truth with your own eyes. 

Even though his head was obscured beneath water, the unmoving corpse of your dear friend still caught your eyes and stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh my god…” you sobbed, your blood running cold. 

But before you could let your feet carry you closer to the scene of the crime, Rafe seized your arm and uttered, “baby, come on,” before pulling you along the last short distance towards the cars, “I’m sorry, but we gotta go.”

Though when you did reach the vehicles and attempted to start them, neither one of them would as they’d seemingly been tampered with, forcing the panicked lot of you all to run back inside. 

“Shit…” Brian clutched onto the back of the couch in the living room for support, “what do we do now?”

“We can’t go on foot, not in the dark through this forest,” Rafe spoke, “so we gotta stay here till morning.”

Glancing around the space, Hana uttered, “then we gotta make this place safe. Lock all the doors and windows, find somewhere to hide.” 

“Yeah, good idea,” your boyfriend nodded before suggesting, “let’s split up, it’ll be faster that way. Y/n with me, we’ll take that side of the house, and the rest of you stay over here.” 

And before anyone could protest, he’d yanked you down a dark hallway.

You nearly stumbled twice as Rafe dragged your shaking visage through the lake house, only stopping once you’d reached a large closet. 

“In here, baby,” he shoved you inside, though began to shut the door before he nuzzled himself in as well. 

“No, what are you doing?” tears streaming down your face, you attempted to stop him. 

Though he only halted his efforts a second, grasping your face as he uttered, “please, just stay here.”

“No, it’s too dangerous,” you clutched onto his dark t-shirt, “you can’t–”

“Babe, I can’t let anything happen to you. I can’t lose you,” he then collided his lips with your own, a sob escaping your lungs as he briefly kissed you, “please, just stay right here, hide, for me.” 

Slowly, you loosened your trembling grip on his shirt and cried, “I love you.” 

“I’ll be right back!” he promised before shutting the closet door and bathing you in darkness. 

You had no idea how much time passed, if it was only a few seconds or hours that you stayed in the dusty and dim abyss of that closet, but then when a loud crash and a shrill scream suddenly found your ears, your shaky hand pushed the door back open.

You’d never in your life been as terrified as you were when you found yourself tip-toeing down that long, dark hallway. Though, as you sneaked past the ajar door to the study, your entire body suddenly froze up at the massacre that met you within. 

Unmoving and slumped over the threshold, there lied Jerome, his face beaten to a pulp, rendering it nearly unrecognisable as blood slowly trickled into the tight curls on the top of his head. 

Past where Hana was lying in the middle of the room, battered and coughing, in the corner you saw as a tall figure, masked by a dark motorcycle helmet, crouched over the still form of Brian and landed the last few blows to claim his life. 

“Please,” Hana’s words were gurgled by blood as the killer slowly straightened back up. Twisting ever so slightly, the assailant plucked out one of the clubs from the gold bag that leaned against one of the tall bookcases, “just let me go,” your last living friend begged as you watched the murderer wrap his long fingers around the handle and take the few steps to where Hana lied, “just let me–” 

As he took a wide swing and hit your friend right in her temple, the loud crack that echoed throughout the cabin made you shutter in terror and let out an uncontrollable scream, causing the killer’s head to snap up to spot you in the dark hallway. 

For a second you both just stood there, frozen and staring at one another, like two deer in headlights. But then, as he began to move, taking his time as he stepped over the bodies littering his path, you stumbled back and collided with the wall directly behind you. 

You tried to run, but even though you managed to slip out the wide glass doors and escape a good distance into the dark forest surrounding the house, the masked man still caught up to you and flung you against a tree. As he had you cornered, you felt him drag the cold tip of the golf club up your right leg and over your shuttering skin, drawing a crimson line of your beloved’s blood across your goosebump-ridden flesh. 

“P-please don’t kill me, please–,” you cried, but just then, the moonlight that streamed through the dense treetops caught in a glint of gold that adorned the hand that clutched the club, a recognizable ring that caused your heart to drop. 

As your eyes then flickered up to the dark helmet, that too seemed oddly familiar now that you truly looked at it. 

In some sick and twisted way, you hoped that the killer had just stolen the jewellery from your boyfriend as a trophy of the night’s conquest and not the horrifying alternative. 

But when you then tried to slip away and the man pushed you back, your hands defensively shot up, though only managed to knock the helmet off his head and let it tumble to the dark forest floor below, unveiling the earth-shattering truth. 

“Oh my god…” you gasped, eyes wide as you now stood face to face with your boyfriend. 

“Shh,” he took a step closer to you, caging you in even further, “calm down, baby. Don’t do anything stupid now.” 

“They–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

A low sigh then escaped Rafe’s lungs. 

“You really should have just stayed hidden like I told you to… I didn’t want you to find out this way… it would have been so much simpler if you’d just bought into the story I made up…” 

“You killed my friends…” your chest ached with every painful gasp of air, “how–… how could you?” 

“Oh, honey…” his head tilted slightly as the corners of his lips twitched, “do you really think this is my first time?” 

Staring back at him in horror, you sputtered, “w-why?”

“Because of you,” he uttered as if it was obvious, “it was all for you,” his feet shifted him even closer to you, “they were a bad influence, so this was the only way.”

“They were my family!” 

“They were like a poison, all of them, trying to control you, trying to take you away from me,” he inched in even closer, making you wish the harsh bark that scratched up your spine would simply open up like a portal and let you escape, “I know Hana was trying to get you to break up with me… Oliver always followed you around like a lost puppy, just hoping you’d one day spread your legs for him… and Jerome and Brian? They were just plain annoying,” his hot breath fanned across your skin as he petted the edges of your features with a knuckle of the hand clutching the golf club, “I did it all for you, for us, because I love you… fuck, you have no idea how much I fucking love you, baby…” he uttered before bringing the bud of the improvised weapon down upon the side of your head and knocking you clean out. 

When you came to, the flicking light from a lit fireplace was the only source of light in the dim room you found yourself in. Arms folded up behind your head, a long rope was tangled around them and stretched up to a beam in the ceiling above. Your legs too were tied, keeping your naked frame upright and locked in place in the middle of the room. 

“Fucking finally,” a low voice echoed from the chair across the chamber, causing you to wince as the tone pierced your soul and worsened your splitting headache, “you really took your sweet time waking up.” 

Blinking back at your boyfriend as he leaned back in the seat, pants undone and his hard length tight in his fist, a murmur escaped your lips, “…you knocked me out…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he got up and walked towards your suspended form, “but you didn’t give me any other choice.” 

As he slowly neared you, your glossy eyes flickered up to meet his.

“Rafe, please,” you heard your voice break as you tried to keep your tone soft, “you don’t have to do this. Just untie me, I promise I won’t be mad at you.”

“Oh yeah?” a small scoff slipped through his smirk. 

“Yes. I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me go,” you begged, “please don’t hurt me.” 

“Shh, shh,” his palm rose up to stroke your hair before letting it rush down and over the curves of your exposed body, “but you’ve been such a bad girl. I think you deserve a lesson that hurts a little bit,” his palm then slapped your pussy, still soaked and sore from earlier, rendering you to let out a shrill yelp, “it’s okay, you can cry…” he briefly leaned in to kiss your cheek before he shifted, though still staying so close that his nose ghosted along your skin as he made his way around to stand directly behind you, “you look so pretty when you do…”

You then squirmed as he reached down to grasp his cock and nudge at your sensitive entrance, “Rafe, please–, ah!” a cry then left your form as he ruthlessly rammed his way inside, plugging you up so completely that his balls nuzzled against your slick skin. 

“Fuck!” his moan tickled the shell of your ear as he tangled his arms around your torso, “you’re so perfect…” he began to move, finding a selfish pace to wreck you with, “so perfect and all mine…” 

As his thrusts caused your tits to jiggle, one of his wide hands soared up to grasp one while the other one snaked up to wrap around your throat. He then squeezed it fiercely enough that all your noises eventually faded away and he kept you completely quiet for a good moment before his hold slackened and he once again granted you the privilege of gasping for air. 

“This is all you need, just me, only me,” he grunted, “just like this, using your pretty little hole for exactly what it was made for… you were made for me and nobody else… no one…”

His grip then drifted down to dent your hips before he lifted them, raising your bound frame till your tip toes were barely grazing the cold floor. Your back arched slightly as he repeatedly brought your hips back to him, his balls sloppily slapping against your swollen clit each time he manoeuvred your body and treated you like a toy. 

When he then hooked an arm around your front to keep moving your body greedily against him, it granted the other one the grace to roam your frame freely. 

As his fingers found one of your nipples in a harsh pinch, he let out a groan at the way you began to clamper down around his fat girth, “are you gonna cum, baby? Huh?” his palm then slapped your tit, “because it sure fucking feels like you’re close,” before he suddenly retracted completely, slipping out of your drooling cunt and causing a shy whimper to slip from your lips, one he swiftly cut off when he smacked your cheek, “too bad. You’re not allowed to.” 

As you shakily struggled to stay on your unsteady feet, you panted, “Rafe, my legs, I can’t–”

“Oh yeah?” he mockingly pouted at you as he sauntered around to your front, “do they hurt? Are you tired?” and as you offered him a nod, his fingers grasped your chin, “well,” his thumb slowly stretched up to trace your bottom lip, “if you promise that you’ll be a good girl for me, then I’ll give you a little break.”

“Yes, I will,” a tear rolled down your still stinging cheek. 

“You will what?” his palm briefly slapped the side of your face once again before returning to the same hold. 

“I’ll be your good girl, I’ll do whatever you want,” you begged and as he then sank down to his knees, grabbed a pocketknife resting on a nearby table and held up his end of the bargain, slicing through the ropes at your legs and cutting them loose. A new wave of sobs tumbled out of your form, “thank you! Oh, thank you so much!”

Tossing the blade far away before he rose back up, “you’re fucking welcome, baby,” he then caught you off guard as he suddenly plucked your lower half up into his arms. 

“W-wait, I thought you’d give me a break!” your legs trembled in his grasp as he slide you back onto his fat cock. 

“Yeah, your legs were tired, so I’m being nice and giving them a break,” the wet claps of your skin roughly colliding once again filled the dark room, “your pussy doesn’t deserve one yet… unless of course, this is you begging me to fuck your ass…” a wicked wish that he’d been begging you for ever since the very first time he banged you. 

“No! No, not there, please, I’ve never–”

“Oh, I know you haven’t,” he smirked, “that’s what makes it so much more fun…”

“Please, Rafe,” you blinked back at him, “don’t.”

“You told me I could do whatever I want…” he angled his bucks right against that spot that caused your teeth to dig into your lower lip, “you promised to be a good girl for me and just take whatever I give you…” 

“I will,” your eyes couldn’t help but flutter, “just please not that.”

He then let a dollop of his spit splatter directly against your face, “alright, but only because I love you,” before he dipped down to plant a feverish kiss against your lips, “tell me that you love me too.”

“I love you,” you murmured against his mouth. 

“Huh?” one of his hands let go of you and he shifted to balance you with only one, letting the other instead drift down between your forms to bully your puffy pearl, “what was that?”

“I lo–, a-ah!” you suddenly whined as he pressed one of his fingers inside your pussy, not caring in the slightest that you were already completely filled up as he forced his digit in alongside his fat cock. 

“Come on, baby,” he stared down at you, “tell me you love me,” and kept up his ruthless pace as he hooked the finger inside of you, “tell your soulmate just how much you love and adore him, how you want nothing more than to worship him at his feet.” 

“I–, I–, Rafe,” you gasped, feeling as if he was splitting you in half, “it’s too much–”

“No, it’s not too much, it’s exactly right, you can take it, baby.” 

“I can’t–”

“I don’t fucking care,” he continued to fuck you without remorse, slamming his intimidating length so deep inside of you that you nearly couldn’t breathe, “I wanna feel you cum, just like this.”

“Rafe–”

“Do it or I’ll get a lot meaner,” he warned you before he finally got what he wanted. Your squirt drizzled down on the floor as the intensity caused a scream to erupt from your form, “there you go, fuck,” he groaned as he watched your pussy gush around his girth, “that’s it,” before the way your cunt clambered down around him caused him to let go as well, “shit,” and pump you full of his cum. 

Rafe pressed a peck to your forehead before he pulled out of your warmth and you breathlessly glanced down to watch as his hot load began to leak out of your quivering hole. 

“Alright, baby,” he exhaled and then uttered words that caused a shiver to trickle down your spine, “foreplay’s over. I think you’re ready for your punishment now.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[bea0206]

So good

lonely little lamb | r. cameron

[warnings] dark!stepbrother!rafe x stepsister!reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader, dd/lg dynamic, mentions of violence/blood, somnophilia, stalker!rafe, DUBCON, emotional/mental manipulation, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: happy OBX4! This was written before the new season :) Dividers by @/ghoulbloggerrr

In which Rafe knows your secret and just how perfect you'd be together.

word count: 7.2k

rafe cameron masterlist

Rafe didn’t catch on immediately.  At first, he just thought you were strange, his expectations already tainted by what he'd assumed about you. He’d been prepared for his stepmother’s daughter to be a brat, and on the surface, you fit that mold perfectly. But there was something off about the way you acted around him. You never played innocent, never tried to charm him or win him over like you did with everyone else. You gave him sharp glances at the dinner table when he talked back to Ward and even angrier stares when he disrespected your mother. You never hung around after dinner, always rushing to go back to your room, and “call your friends from back home”. Of course, Rafe listened at your door often and he never heard you making any calls. Having grown up in the house, he felt entitled to know what was happening within its walls.

Your behavior puzzled Rafe to the point of obsession. He woke up every morning to check if your car was still in the driveway and easily memorized your schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you attended classes in the morning at the local community college. On the other days of the week you sat through your online classes. You never ate too early, always going for a late breakfast that usually consisted of avocado toast, a bowl of fruit, and you always came down to refill your “sippy cup”. That’s what Rafe had dubbed it. It was clear, decorated with a stencil design of a baby lamb and had a flip-up spout for easy drinking. You didn’t go many places without it. 

It was the small things that fascinated him. The comfort items you clung to, the simple routines that made your life feel organized and secure. You usually took a bubble bath about thirty minutes after dinner, and when you forgot to lock your door, Rafe would slip into your room, drawn by the intimacy of your private world.

He picked up items around your room, like the frame you kept beside your bed. It held a photo of you and your mom: you in your old high school cheerleading uniform, hair pinned back in pigtails, while your mom smiled widely beside you. Despite her cheerful expression, your eyes in the picture looked wistful and lonely. Rafe couldn’t help but imagine you now, with adult curves and eager eyes, wearing that outfit. The thought stirred something in him, making him hard, and he had to tuck himself away, cursing under his breath. At least if you walked in, he wouldn’t be caught in the act.

The more he learned about you, the harder it was to quiet these thoughts. He had always found you pretty, but now his body and mind were becoming obsessed with you. He made a habit of collecting a pair of your panties from the hamper before leaving. He needed them for later, for the release that he craved, driven mad by the scent of you.

The sound of soft, melodic music flowed into your bedroom from behind the bathroom door. Sometimes it was girly pop songs, other times classical, but more often than not, it had the gentle, soothing quality of nursery music. Your bed was always neatly made, draped in a floral quilt, and you kept the same stuffed animals on top, meticulously placed. A small chesnut brown teddy bear, white bunny, and a tiny stuffed lamb. Each one had their own white ribbon wrapped around its neck, tied into a bow. 

One time he caught a glimpse of your nighttime skin care routine. You removed the light makeup you always wore and used about ten different products that Rafe didn’t recognize, nor could he guess their use. The last layer was always a light layer of lip balm and Rafe always leaned a bit closer when your puckered your lips in the mirror. His mind easily wandered to idea of your lips around him. 

You wouldn’t look so lonely, little lamb, if you just let me in. 

He had his suspicions about the secret, kinky things you were into. There had to be a reason you spent so much time by yourself. He didn’t get the answers he was looking for until one night when you’d left your laptop, unlocked on your desk. He took the opportunity to program his fingerprint into it too, just in case he needed to snoop again. 

He combed through your social media, public and private, and started checking your messages daily, keeping track of who you talked to, what you were up to. Your public social media was perfect. A mix of selfies with soft lighting, photos of cute coffee shops, and other things you deemed as your “aesthetic”. 

It was your camera roll that finally gave Rafe the answers he had been searching for. One folder, marked with a delicate pink heart, caught his attention immediately. Inside were photos of you, taken in front of your floor-length mirror. Each picture was eerily similar, the same vacant, wide-eyed expression on your face, as though you were lost in some faraway place.

You wore pajamas he’d never seen before, soft and childlike. Sometimes it was pastel-colored footie pajamas, other times it was nightgowns in soft shades of pink, lavender, or baby blue. In a few, you were bundled up in fuzzy socks or slippers with floppy bunny ears. Your hair was always styled with bows, either pink or white. There was a strange innocence in these details, one that clashed with the tension building inside Rafe as he scrolled through the images.

Sometimes you were biting down on your nails, others your thumb rested in your mouth, but most of the time you were gripping one of your stuffed animals tight to your chest. 

You looked...adorable. But in a way that made Rafe’s pulse quicken with something darker. The softness, the vulnerability you displayed in those photos, fed his obsession.

Another folder marked with a unicorn emoji held more photos that you’d saved. He recognized some of the characters from children’s TV shows he remembered Wheezie watching. Others were pictures from Disney movies, and Rafe quickly realized you had a special preference for the princesses. You seemed drawn to Cinderalla, Belle, and Snow White. It offered a glimpse into your mind, into your fantasies, how you were drawn to things with an air of purity and sweetness. 

Rafe’s heart slowed when a message popped up from someone named Mr. Hayes. Been thinking about you all day, sweetheart. The message said. A moment later, another one came. How was ur bath? 

Rafe opened the text thread and began to scroll. Each word that he read made his blood boil. There were too many messages for him to read. You’d sent him photos of yourself, let him call you pet names, and you’d even gone so far as calling him… Daddy. He’d never sent you a photo but that didn’t seem to matter. You were willing to share the details of your life with him. 

Rafe’s vision blurred with rage. Daddy. This virtual fantasy, a stranger who you didn’t even know, did not deserve your affection. He decided then you were his, whether you knew it or not. 

Rafe decided then to also make it a habit to check your messages. 

Several weeks later, you’d finally convinced Mr. Hayes to meet you in person. Rafe couldn’t let that happen. As your stepbrother and your protector, it would be wrong of him to let some stranger hurt you. Besides, he’d become obsessed to the point where now he was dying to know exactly who this man was. 

You didnd’t know any better, but he did. 

“Hey,” Rafe spoke to you the afternoon before your secret rendevouz, interrupting your fruit cutting, “My Dad just texted. Him and your Mom aren’t going to make it back tonight. There flight keeps getting delayed so they’re going to stay the rest of the weekend.”

“Oh, okay,” You replied simply, returning back to your task again. 

“Wheezie’s sleeping at a friends and I’m probably going to a party at Kelce’s,” You gave him a look, as if it was strange to be conversating with him alone without the presence of the rest of their blended family, “...Do you want to come? It’ll be fun.”

You shook your head, “No, thank you. I’ll just stay in.”

Rafe leaned on the marble countertop, staring across the kitchen island at you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you go out one time since you moved in.” 

Rafe’s sudden interest in your habits had become more noticeable lately, but you figured it was nothing, just him being Rafe, always lurking in the background, watching everyone, everything. Your mother had warned you that she thought something was off about him and living with him over the past nine months had sealed the fact that you didn’t trust him. 

You didn’t trust many people at all, actually, never having had a stable home life. Your mother had always had money, or at least latched on to men who had money, but those men came and went. Even your mother wasn’t someone you could count on. She’d uprooted your life more than once, moving you across states just to be with a man who could give her the lifestyle she believed she deserved.

Mr. Hayes had offered you comfort in this transitional time. You had no one to confide your secret in accept for the communities you found online. It made you anxious to even think about finding a partner one day and having to explain this side of you. Friends on the internet wouldn’t judge you.

But online, the stakes felt lower. The people you spoke with, people like Mr. Hayes, didn’t judge. The risk of being truly seen, and rejected, was something you couldn’t handle. Not yet.

You paused what you were doing, knife hovering over a piece of strawberry, “You really want to spend the night alone. On a Friday night?” 

Rafe sauntered around the kitchen island, his eyes fixed on you in a way that made a shiver run down your spine. He knew he was handsome. With his short blonde hair and blue eyes that always had a raging storm behind them. His gold ring and his gold watch. Most important of all, he knew he intimidated you, his size being enough to make you feel smaller than you actually were. 

“I have to study,” You spoke curtly, trying to cut off the line of questioning you sensed was coming. You moved to keep cutting up your fruit but you paused again when Rafe reached out to grab a piece from the cutting board. You looked up at him as he popped the piece of strawberry into his mouth. 

Your lips parted in shock and Rafe’s lips pulled into a smirk, as if he was thriving on that power, the uncpoken tension in the air. The way he could make your heart race in that mix of fear and something else he knew you’d never admit. 

“Oh yeah?” Rafe placed a hand on the counter, “You have all weekend to study. C’mon, have some fun, princess.”

You took in a breath at the sound of the pet name. He hadn’t ever called you that before and for a moment it looked like he was seeing right through you. 

“I-” Quickly, you turned your head away, refocusing on the task, as your cheeks heated with embarrassment, “I’m okay, thanks.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to come out,” Rafe continued, his voice smooth, almost coaxing, “You got secret plans or something?”

“No,” You said quickly, “I told you, I’m studying.”

Rafe let out a dry chuckle, no real amusement behind it, “You sure you’re not just hiding?”

“It’s not your business,” You snapped finally, your tone icy, “And I… I don’t have to explain myself to you, Rafe. You don’t even know me.”

“I know you, princess,” You dropped the knife, your heart beating too fast, and you quickly picked up your pieces of fruit and placed them in your bowl. Rafe leaned closer, watching your every move, and the intensity of his gaze was starting to unravel you, “You’re so jumpy. It’s just me. No need to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” You muttered but your fingers trembled as you grabbed ahold of your bowl of fresh fruit and your lamb cup. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Rafe took another step closer and you backed away from the counter.

“Stop it,” Your frustration flared, unsure of why exactly Rafe was trying to stir you up. Your lips pressed together and you tried to stop your reaction, but with him towevering over you, invading your space, you felt effectively suffocated. It wasn’t until your back was pressed into the stainless steal fridge, your bowl the only thing protecting you from being pushed against Rafe, that you actually flinched. 

“Hey,” Rafe lifted on arm, casually bracing his hand on top of the fridge as he looked down at you, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You swallowed hard. His voice was deceptively gentle, “Rafe–”

“I’m not trying to scare you, I promise,” Something flickered in his eyes, something you didn’t recognize, and for a moment, you questioned if you’d read this entire situation correctly, “I know how fragile you are. How scary the world can seem. I’m offering …you know …because I’d be there to protect you. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

You blinked up at him. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even a hint of him trying to talk down to you. Rafe Cameon almost sounded caring. “You don’t need to be so on guard all the time,” Rafe continued. 

“I just …” You couldn’t stop the way your voice softened, “I like keeping to myself. It’s not that I don’t want to be around people. I just don’t …fit in here.”

Rafe nodded, his expression understanding, and it was the first time you looked at one another as real people, “I get it. You’re not like the other girls around here. You’re smarter, quieter … softer. You can trust me though, yeah? You don’t gotta hide from me.”

For a moment, everything felt like it would be okay. Maybe Rafe had managed to see you and was willing to understand you, unlike anyone else you had met on this island. It all felt real until you focused more on his eyes. Your expression had softened, melted from frustration to wide-eyed curiosity, and that had caused a shift in his eyes. You saw that flicker of darkness that you’d seen before. 

“I can look after you, ya’ know?” He said, voice dripping to a lower tone, “Help you. You don’t need to worry too much.”

Before you could respond, his other arm lifted, and you felt his fingers graze your cheek, the touch startlingly intimate. 

“What are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Rafe’s jaw tightened, the mask he was wearing beginning to slip, “Don’t be like that, princess.” 

“Stop,” You managed to say, “Stay away from me.”

In just a few hours, you’d finally get to meet Mr. Hayes. None of Rafe’s games would matter then. When you went silent, you watched as Rafe’s hand balled into a fist and he turned his body away. 

“Suit yourself,” He’d said coldly, his void devoid of any of the warmth that was there before.  

You stared down at your bowl of fruit dumbfounded for a moment too long. Princess. How did Rafe know how desperately you wanted someone to call you that?

Rafe stayed at Kelce’s party until eleven He finished his last pabst blue ribbon, said goodbye to only a handful of his friends, before he made his way to his truck. Knowing they would find it strange for him to leave so early, he mad the excuse that he was going to meet up with a girl at the Island Club. 

In reality, Rafe was headed twenty minutes away, towards Winward Beach. Mr. Hayes wanted to meet you at midnight. One of the many red flags Rafe assumed you had ignored. You probably thought it was romantic, meeting at a secluded beach in the middle of the night. Like the two of you were fucking Romeo and Juliet. 

Stupid, Rafe thought bitterly, gripping the steering wheel tightly. 

Rafe parked his car in the small parking lot that sat near the boardwalk, turning off all of his lights, and waited for the creep to show up first. Rafe thought for a moment that neither of you might show when midnight started to approach. Maybe you’d wisened up, listened to your gut instinct that told you something wasn’t right. He didn’t believe it for long, you were too trusting. Too soft. 

When a tan sedan that Rafe didn’t recognize pulled up in a parking spot close to the walkway, Rafe knew who it was. In the dark and without any streetlights, he only saw a dark figure carrying a backpack make his way towards the beachwalk. He waited until the figure made it halfway before he climbed out of his truck. 

The moon was high, casting a white glow over the empty landscape. 

Anger simmered beneath Rafe’s skin as he watched the man from a safe distance. He moved with a nervous energy, often glancing over his shoulder as if he was expecting to see someone. Wooden planks creaked softly under his weight but Mr. Hayes didn’t notice, not until he’d made it to the beach, and Rafe appeared behind him. 

The man turned his head, eyes wide with confusion. For a moment, this was all a coincidence. Rafe was a nobody, just a stranger taking a walk on the beach, until Rafe’s lips pulled into a smile, “Not what you were expecting?”

“Who the hell are you?”

Mr. Hayes was certainly not what Rafe was expecting. A completely unremarkable middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his thinning brown hair, pale skin, lightly freckled and a slight paunch that rested over the waistband of his dreams. A complete creep. Someone completely undeserving of even being looked at by you. 

Anger wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Rafe was feeling, “You’re Mr. Hayes?”

“What?” Up close, Rafe could see the way the man's eyes started to dart around. He took another step further and the man stumbled back in the thick sand, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just–”

“You’re just a coward?” Rafe finished, his tone mocking, “I mean, I understand now why you hid your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

Rafe interrupted again, snarling, his hand lashing out to grab the front of the man’s shirt. He yanked him forward and the man’s eyes went wild with panic, “Meeting up with an innocent girl in the middle of the night? Sneaking around like a creep? What’s in that fucking bag?”

“Nothing!” Mr. Hayes struggled. Rafe couldn’t believe how weak the man was. Strong enough to overpower you, maybe, but weak. As soon as the though of this man pinning you down in the sand crossed his mind, Rafe’s eyes went wild, “Nothing, I’m sorry!”

Rafe shoved him hard and the man stumbled backwards into the sand. He towered over the man, his shadow casting long across the beach. Waves crashed loudly in the background but Rafe’s voice boomed over the sound, “I don’t think you are! You probably thought you could just take what you wanted, huh? Fucking answer me!”

The man scrambled backwards, hands digging into the sand, backward hanging awkwardly from his shoulder. Why didn’t he just drop it …if he wasn’t hiding anything, he would let it go, “I wasn’t — I didn’t mean, I didn’t know!”

“You didn’t know what? That she was half your age? That she was too good for you?” Rafe’s lip curled in disgust. He knelt down, his face inches from Mr. Hayes’s as his voice dropped to a whisper, “She’s not yours. She never will be.”

“Okay,” He nodded, holding out a hand as if to put distance between them, “I just wanted to meet her. I know I lied. I’m sorry. I won’t …it won’t happen again. Believe me, it won’t happen again.”

Rafe’s head cocked to the side as he looked down at the trembling man. Without another word, he grabbed for the backpack. The man resisted, of course, a series of “Wait, wait, wait,” leaves his lips. Rafe doesn’t leave space to argue because he pushed his palm into the man’s chest, pinning him down, before he lets his fist connect with the side of the man’s face. 

The man gasps, whimpers, as he curls into a ball on the sand, “F-Fuck!” The creep moans. Rafe pulls away the bag, ripping open the zipper, and dumping the contents onto the sand.

A cheap blanket, a cheap bottle of wine, and then Rafe’s eye catches on the condoms and then then the thick, coiled string of rope. Without another thought, Rafe was tackling the man, grabbing a hold of his collar, pulling him up and slamming his head into the ground over and over again. Rafe didn’t stop. He slammed his fist into the man’s face harder and harder. Each blow left a sickening crack echoing in the air. 

Crack. Groan of pain. Crack. Whimper, “You though you could hurt her? Touch what’s not yours? Brutalize her?” Rafe snarled, voice low and vicious. When the man finally went unconscious, his body limp, face bloody and unrecognizable, “Fuck you!”

Rafe’s chest heaved as he stared down at his work. Nothing about the blood and broken flesh bothered him. He looked down at his hand which were covered in the man’s blood and only felt satisfied. 

He’d protected you. His pulse spiked even more as he heard footsteps on the boardwalk. You’d shown up. Rafe watched you kick off flip flops and run towards them. No matter how dark it was, you were easily visible in the baby pink dress you’d chosen. The contrast between you and the violent seen before you sente a surge of protectiveness through him. He stood from where he knelt in the sand and quickly crossed the distance towards you. 

You slowed as you took in the scene before you, “Rafe?” you whispered, “Rafe, what’s … that’s not …oh my god.”

Rafe grabbed you by your arms, turning your shaking body away. It was a gruesome mess, nothing you should have to see, “He’s dead,” You spoke with wide, terrified eyes, “Wh-Why? You killed him.”

“He’s not dead,” Rafe said quickly, “He’s still breathing … I had to stop him.”

You didn’t listen, you turned your head and saw the unnatural position the man laid in, “Rafe, he’s dead!”

Rafe shook you slightly, “He’s not. I promise.”

“What did you do?” You cried, tears beginning to stream down your cheek. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” He tried to assure you, “I had not. He was going to hurt you, Y/N. Look, he brought …he brought all that shit with him. There was rope in his bag, condoms … I did this for you!”

You shook your head, trying to pull away from Rafe’s bloody hands, “You beat him?” Your voice broke under the weight of your fear, “He’s not moving. You can’t …why would you–”

Rafe’s heart twisted in his chest. He wasn’t the one you were supposed to be afraid of, “He deserved it,” Rafe said, voice quiet and serious, “C’mon, we need to get out of here.”

Rafe tried to pull you but you resisted. Easily, he lifted you into his arms, bloody hands staining your skin and now your dress, “We have to call someone!” You shouted at him, hiccuping through your tears, “Rafe, put me down!”

Rafe ignored you, strides long and steady, carrying you back towards the beachwalk. It was better for Mr. Hayes if the police weren’t involved. Undoubtely, a man like that had a record. Rafe was doing him a favor by only leaving him bloody on the beach. 

In his arms, you were powerless. Your mind was reeling. Even in his bloody state, you knew the man there was not who Mr. Hayes had described himself as. Rafe could be right about all of this but it still felt wrong. 

In Rafe’s truck, you sat curled up against the door, your knees pulled to your chest. A dark and empty road stretched before you, yacht rock played at a low volume in the background, and Rafe’s heavy breathing was louder than any of your thoughts. 

Every few minutes, you stole a glance at him. The tension had yet to leave his body, though he was coming down from the adrenaline. His breathing was heavy but deliberate, as if he was attempting to calm himself, “I didn’t want you to see that, you know that, right?” Rafe said suddenly, breaking through the heavy silence, “Like …I know that was fucked up. You believe me, right? About what I said?”

Your throat tightened so much that your words came out strangled, “I don’t know … what to believe.”

“He was going to hurt you. If I hadn’t stepped in — If I-I hadn’t acted proactively, he would’ve hurt you. He would be hurting you right now. You know that, right?” The brutality of Mr. Hayes’s alleged actions began to cloud Rafe’s actions. He said it over and over. You couldn’t help that now you were imagining it. Maybe this was the only way to rationalize the situation. Maybe you had to believe him.

You saw the items in the sand. You saw that he’d lied about his age, about his appearance, and his intentions. He was the monster. That was the better version. Everything was a lot less wrong that way. 

“Y/N,” Rafe spoke again, his deep voice rattling your ear drums, “You know that.”

You finally nodded, “Okay,” You agreed. 

“Good,” Rafe seemed to let out a breath of relief. Hands still tight on the steering wheel, he tilted his head back, “He wasn’t some innocent guy. I swear that to you. Like I wouldn’t lie about that shit.”

You nodded until your head started to hurt. 

“I did this for you,” Rafe said, “I’m so fucking glad you’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

“Thank you,” You whispered as you wiped the wetness from your cheeks. Your eyes caught on the dried blood that wrapped around in a band on your arm, “...Rafe?”

“Yeah, baby?” Rafe voice turned gentler as he glanced over at you.

“Did you …look at my messages?”

Rafe’s demeanor grew casual, like the worst of his anxieties had passed, “I did what I had to do,” He said, like it was a simple explanation. He didn’t seem concerned at his obvious breach of privacy. Didn’t seem to understand that the pit in your stomach was deepening. 

“Then you…”

“Then I know,” He finished and you watched a sinister smile pull at his lips, “Aren’t you relieved? I know and I’m not judging you. I’ve been wanting to figure you out since I met you. And now there’s no secrets between us.”

“Rafe…” You began, your voice trembling as you tried to find the right words, “How could you?”

“I had to,” He insisted, “If I hadn’t, where would you be now? What if he had taken you? Killed you? What would that do to your mom?”

Your brows furrowed, trying to process his words, and the vile images that left in your mind, “The stuff on my phone is …private. It’s private for a reason. I don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you think,” He countered, offering you a patronizing tone, “I know what you want, what you need. I’m happy to give you that. And I’d do a hell of better job than that waste of life on the beach.”

You connected the dots the moment those words left his lips. He wanted to be what Mr. Hayes had been to you. A caretaker. Someone to nurture your most innocent idea. 

“Rafe … Ward is married to my mom,” The most logical reason that was a crazy idea came to your mind quickly. 

“So?” He replied dismissevly. 

“You’re my stepbrother,” Not even that registered with him, “I don’t think …it’s not what I want.”

“You don’t know what you want,” Rafe reached across the console, gently but firmly grabbing ahold of your hand. You stared back at him with wide eyes, your fear obvious especially when he took his eyes off the road, “You’re confused. You were willing to trust a man on the internet when the perfect person to take care of you is right here with you. No one else. Me.”

Feeling trapped, your next thought became calming him down. For fear of him crashing the car or never loosening his grip, you forced your expression to soften, “I know you can protect me,” You nodded your head, “And thank you for that …I shouldn’t have done what I did. It was stupid. I’m …I’m glad you care about me like that.”

Rafe squeezed your hand gently, “Yeah?”

“It’s just a lot to take in. I had no idea …I just thought you were usually annoyed with me,” You said and rafe seemed to exhale, his shoulders loosening, “I trust you, it’s just a lot to process right now.”

“I get it,” Rafe let go of your hand, but gave you no time to feel relieved, because next he placed his strong, large hand on your thigh, “I think we’re good for each other. I just have to show you, Y/N.”

Tannyhill was empty except the two of you. Your heart raced as Rafe led you upstairs to your room, hand firmly on the small of your back. When the door to the bedroom softly clicked behind you, closing the two of you in, you felt like throwing up. 

You started to imagine Rafe wandering around, looking through all your things, all without your permission. He felt out of place there in your sanctuary but it was clear he’d made himself comfortable a long time a go. He led you over to the edge of your bed, and shakily, you sat down. He kneeled down in front of you, a position quite to vulnerable and intimate for you. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, voice deep in concerning. Lifting one of your heels from the ground, he looked closely at your legs, as if checking for an injury. 

You shook your head, know the most your body had been through tonight had been at his hands, “I’m okay,” You spoke, your voice small. 

Rafe looked up at you, “It’s okay if you’re not, yeah?” Rafe said, voice softening as his hand slid further up your leg. When you pulled your leg back, his grip remained firm, possessive, “Everyone’s gone. I’m asking you to lean on me, princess.”

With no hint of asking for permission, you stared back at your stepbrother. You couldn’t help but feel as if the timing of tonight had worked out eerily in his favor. Everyone in your family was gone for the night and there was no Mr. Hayes to text about your feelings. 

“I’m going to run the bath for you,” Rafe decided, lips parted as if he was deep in thought, “Yeah, stay right here.”

“I’m fine, I can do it–” You began as Rafe made his way towards your bathroom.

He held out a finger and you stopped your movements quickly, frozen by the intensity in his gaze, “Stay.” 

He didn’t have to raise his voice for you to feel the threat in his tone. Somehow, this version of him was scarier than the one that relentlessly struck a man until he was unrecognizable. 

The sound of running water filled the room. Closing your eyes, controlling your breathing, the sound brought you to your routine. That sound of running water was always soothing to you. It was usually how your mind was able to slip into that comforting place on the other side of your mind. Things were lighter there, a place where you had no cares at all, and you enjoyed the things that you’d normally be embarrassed by. You pressed your feet into your fuzzy white carpet, your favorite place to listen to music and do one of your coloring books. You were almost there, the water having tricked you into falling deeper, until you caught a glimpse of Rafe standing behind the door, washing blood away in the sink. 

You tightened your eyes even more, shaking your head. This was certainly not the time to let down your guard. 

He appeared moments later, drying his hands with one of your pink washcloths, “Come on, let’s get you ready,” He said, his head tilted towards the bathroom, his voice deceptively warm. 

Your feet betrayed you and you hesitantly crossed the room. Another door between you and your life before you knew Rafe felt this way. When it closed shut, you realized you’d sealed your fate. How could it be a mistake when this was the place in life where you felt safest? To accept something was wrong meant accepting that you had nowhere left to feel warm, innocent, or child-like. 

Fingers caressed your skin, lifting the hem of your dress, gently raising your arms, until you were standing in your underwear. You hadn’t realized you’d started crying again and it didn’t register how badly your lips were trembling until Rafe’s thumb caressed your bottom lip, “You’re okay,” He assured you, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You’d wanted this desperately, for someone to see you and not want to run away. You wanted someone to take care of you, someone devoted to nurturing you. Your eyes locked on Rafe’s and you felt his palm against your bottom, fingers traveling beneath the fabric of your panties. You kept your head tilted up as he leaned down, pressing lips that were softer than could’ve ever imagined, against your neck. 

You melted against him. 

Vanilla and strawberry swirled in the air, strong but gentle hands caressed you, and your tears started to feel more like a release than a burden. He kissed the spot on your throat that had gone sore from all tears. 

“I’m gonna take care of you,” He whispered and you felt it everywhere. 

After removing your bra and panties, he helped you into the bath. Quickly, the blood and tears seemed to leave your skin, as if you’d imagined them. He touched you in a way that more natural, human, than expected. With deliberate care, he moved his hands over you, an act that felt practiced. 

Everything dissolved there in the warm bath, the heaviness of the entire night. Bubbles clung to your skin, and your fingers moved lazily over the surface of the water. Rafe washing you, moving a soapy washcloth over your skin, should’ve felt strange but were left in that hazy place where things were simple. 

“This is how things are going to be,” You heard him say, “We’ll make it work, okay? You get to be yourself and I’m the one who takes care of you now. I’m your Daddy.”

You’d never said that word out loud. Daddy. It was a faraway concept, a dream …just like the cloud you were floating in right now. You hugged yourself, mind wandering to that soft bed with all of your plushies. 

“Say it, princess,” you turned your head to him, mouth parted, eyes curious. 

“Say what?” You asked in a whisper, an innocent haze in your eyes. 

He smiled. You had done something right. You gave him a soft smile too. He leaned closer, “Say ‘Daddy’,” He commanded softly, “Please, princess.”

Part of you hesitated, knowing you were giving away something precious. The other part wanted to please him, after all, he’d brought you this sense of peace. And maybe the sooner you made him happy, the sooner he’d tuck you into your warm bed, and let this long day finally end. 

“Daddy,” You tested out the word on your tongue and though it sounded fragile, his eyes seemed to light up, “...since you said please.”

Nothing could smoulder that spark of satisfaction in his eyes. The look made your heart flutter, a sharp contrast from before when it felt like exploding. 

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Your cheeks warmed and you turned your face to hide from him. You couldn’t take it when he looked at you like that. That look made it feel like everything was okay.

“I made a mistake,” Your voice came out in a whine. Rafe ran the warm cloth across your back, a reminder of that peaceful bubble he’d created around you. 

He shushed you, “You didn’t,” He assured you, “You’re a good person, a good girl. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”

His words made you sink deeper. The soft strokes of the warm washcloth, the vanilla-scent against your skin, and the pressure against your most sensitive areas. You felt the tension in your body melt away further. 

Slowly, gripping your knees to your chest, you turned your face back towards him, “You can’t tell anybody, Rafe,” You whispered. 

“Never,” He said, leaning closer, “Pinky swear?”

Rafe reached his other hand toward you, his pinky finger extended in front of you, moving like he was carefully dismantling some fragile, like a bomb. You stared for a brief movement, surprised and warmed by the gesture. You had no idea Rafe was capable of being so gentle. You unwrapped yourself a little bit, bring your closest pinky towards his hand. Your smaller finger wrapped around his and you were tethered together. 

“There, I promise I won’t tell anyone, princess,” He looked at you deeply, “Okay?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, your hand falling gently back into the water,  “Let’s get you out of here before you wrinkle up,” He decided and you watched him cross the room to grab your towel hanging from the back of the bathroom door. He walked back with a quiet confidence and his grip was completely sure, deliberate, as he helped you from the tub, “I’ve got ya’.”

He’d wrapped one arm underneath your shoulders and the other beneath your knees, lifting you gently. You imagined pressing yourself into him but a towel soon separated you. You shivered, and instinctually, you wanted to dry yourself but Rafe took responsibility of that as well. He was so close, so protective. It was awkward at first, being able to take care of that mundane task but not having to. You leaned into it, letting your body be soothed by the ritual. 

You kept sinking. 

“Arms up,” He’d said after bringing you back to your bedroom. He chose an oversized purple t-shirt, designed with small pictures of cartoon pandas. For your underwear, he chose a light blue pair decorated with rainbows. Your eyelids grew heavy and after your first yawn, Rafe lifted you onto the side of your bed, “There you go. All set.”

You crawled into your cocoon further, settling underneat your quilt. You watched Rafe as you settled there, as he moved across the room. Your sleepy eyes widened for a moment, realizing his shirt was gone and that he was fiddling with the zipper of his pants. 

It was a threshold you’d never expected to reach, with Rafe or anyone else. The lights flicked off and the bed dipped beside you, your nerves sparked. You grabbed ahold of your lamb stuffed animal, letting that bring you a familiar comfort. Rafe nestled closer to you, his body at ease, relaxed as he wrapped an arm around you. 

You did your best to do the same, trying to lean into that same vulnerability you felt when he was bathing you. Warm skin against yours, strong hands on your waist, warm breath against your ear, it was overwhelming, “I-Is this okay?” You asked, breaking the silence. 

Looking for reassurance, you turned your head until your noses were almost pressed together. 

“Yeah,” Rafe spoke low and smooth, “You okay?”

You nodded quickly, nervously, “I’m okay.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead and you took a deep breath, letting the feeling sooth your anxiety, “I’ve got you,”  Rafe’s fingers ran down your arm then to your waist. He held you there, feeling your flesh there, squeezing, “Daddy’s got you, baby.”

He touched you in new ways, gripped you hard in some places and softer in others. The kiss on your forehead turned into a kiss on your nose and then he placed soft lips against your cheek, “Relax,” He whispered in your ear, “I know you’re sleepy. I’ll do all the work.”

In your state of mind, his words felt like a riddle. What did he mean? You knew you liked his touch and that you wanted to sleep. Rafe knew more than you, clearly, maybe that’s what makes him a good Daddy. You should trust him. 

You closed your eyes as you let him press his face into your neck. He kissed you there, finding the most sensitive spot on your skin, and it made your lips part in a soft moan, “Call me Daddy,” He spoke against your skin, “Please, baby? Just say it and I’ll make you feel good.”

“Daddy,” You whispered back hesitantly and Rafe groaned, “D-Daddy.”

“Fuck,” Rafe cursed, grabbing a handful of your bottom, “That’s exactly what I want from you.”

You felt hardness pressing against your upper thigh and you gripped your lamb tighter. You leaned into sleep, letting Rafe move your body as he pleased, only moving your lips to whisper, “Daddy” in Rafe’s ear. He seemed please and you felt a warmness in your center that you wanted more of. 

Soon he was on top of you, your legs spread as he sat in between them. He rubbed you there. His rhythm was perfect, his accuracy impeccable, so much that you didn’t have to even move your hips to get the friction you needed. You panted and when you reached your peak, Rafe swallowed your moans, putting his mouth on your lips. 

It didn’t fully register to you when Rafe pushed your underwear aside and started to push inside of you. He was so gentle and you were so tired. He pulled your arms to the side, pressing his front against you, but you kept one hand wrapped around the arm of your stuffed animal, “Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy”

You winced when you felt all of him, and instinctively, you pushed at his heavy arms, “You’re okay,” He said, and his voice was louder to you than his heavy breathing or the sound of his skin hitting against yours, “You’re doing so good. Daddy’s almost done. You’re gonna make me cum so fast, Y/N. Shit.”

The satisfaction and pride in his words brought almost enough warmth to mask the pain of being stretched by him. You slowly grew used to the feeling but the feeling was so intense and you had so little energy to withstand it, to take all of him. 

“Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”

His thrust slowed but his weight kept you pinned there. He grabbed ahold of your chin and you blinked up at him with sleepy eyes. His mouth was parted, his eyes holding a darkness that you thought had gone away, “Jesus, baby.”

As he shifted to his side, all you could muster was to turn away, pulling your lamb close to your chest and allowing your eyes to flutter shut. Rafe nestled against you once more, his hands gripping your hips until your bottom was pressed firmly against him. You felt the warmth of his lips against your hair, and then his sleepy voice whispered, “Sweet dreams, princess.”

Reblog and comment if you enjoyed, would love to know your thoughts!!

[bea0206]

Truth or Dare | slumber party!h

Summary: Y/n's coworker, Harry, has never been to a slumber party so she decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.

A/N: Based off this request. Thanks anon! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6,752

Warning: smut

. . .

By her third glass of chardonnay, her stomach was feeling the acid from the wine but she was having such a good time talking to Harry from the operations department that she didn’t care. She’d have another before calling it a night. Just one more glass so she could sit with him a little longer and listen to him talk and watch as he ran his finger along the edge of his pint glass.

He was probably looking at her like he was because he was also three pints of lager in and he was kind so he was holding eye contact to be polite. Certainly, it wasn’t because he found her attractive (though she’d have welcomed that).

The company’s management meeting was long over and everyone else had gone home but Harry and Y/n stayed for another round. They rarely ever got to talk at the office. She’d always wanted to pick his brain about why he decided to move to the US and how, of all companies, he chose to work at Dunn Services.

Y/n laughed on cue as he mentioned something from his childhood with his sister having her friends over to stay the night. He grinned, a healthy row of teeth aimed at her before he looked down and laughed at himself, “In truth? I never did have a sleepover or anything like that.”

“Really? Surely you had friends…”

Harry nodded, “Oh yeah I had a lot of friends. But I never stayed over at anyone’s and they never came over to mine either. Just… I don’t know. Never happened.”

Placing her nearly empty glass down she turned and waved with a smile as the waitress walked by, “Can we get another round, please?”

“How are you getting home?” Harry asked when she faced him, crossing her leg over her knee toward him.

“Taxi. You?”

“Might walk. I’m not far from here.”

Nodding she placed her elbows on the table, “So, I think that you’ve missed out on an integral right of passage, having never had a slumber party. You should definitely remedy that at some point. I highly recommend a fun sleepover. In fact, if you need pointers on what to do during a sleepover, I’m your gal.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your go-to during a slumber party?” Harry teased before taking another sip of his beer.

“Well, I think there are like two main components. The first is entertainment and I’m always keen on a good movie, or a dumb one, either way… a movie for sure if I’m picking. Some people like to play board games or whatever, but I like to stuff myself into a pile of blankets and pillows and just lie, or drape,” she spoke using her arms to demonstrate herself draping into pillows. “Occasionally, if the mood is right, I’ll enjoy a little truth or dare.”

“Got it. A movie and maybe if the mood is right, truth or dare. And what’s the second component.”

Y/n crossed her fingers together and raised her brows as if she were about to say something very important, “Snacks. Beverages. Good ones. Usually just small bites but here’s my list…” She cleared her throat, “Buttered popcorn, and possibly potato chips. Definitely something chocolatey, and maybe something like a cookie or a snack cake. If not potato chips then tortilla chips and if it’s tortilla chips, salsa should also definitely be on the menu.”

Harry held back the laugh in his throat as he nodded, “Wow. Okay. What about like a burger or Chinese food? Would that be allowed?”

Y/n shrugged, “It’s your party. You can do what you want. I’m just telling you what I’d do and what would be a hit with your sleepover buddy.”

Harry breathed out a laugh. Y/n could tell he was getting bashful. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. She watched him for a few seconds before the waitress returned with their drinks.

A quick gulp of wine and she nudged at his shin with her shoe, “You wanna have a slumber party with me?”

Harry blinked and tilted his head, “What? You mean… Seriously?”

She shrugged, “Why not? Then next time someone asks if you’ve ever had a proper slumber party you can say that you have.”

He laughed loudly, his husky voice was like music to her ears. Pointing at her with his finger he grinned, “Now how I can argue with that? I mean,” he shook his head, a glint in his eye, “Every time someone asks me if I’ve been to a slumber party and I tell them I haven’t, it’s such a disappointment! The look on their faces when they realize my whole childhood was a sham…”

They both laughed, leaning in toward one another, tittering toward the edges of their stools.

Harry tilted his head, “Actually I think it sounds fun. You just name the day and I’ll be there.”

Y/n smiled at him. She knew it was crazy. Having a grown man at her place for a slumber party. Typically adults didn’t have those kinds of sleepovers – it was usually with the intent of something far more salacious. But she’d show him a good time, she thought, raising her glass toward his, “Deal.”

.                 .                 .

Y/n had her sofa bed pulled out and piled high with extra blankets and pillows. She had all her favorite snacks plus she ordered cheeseburgers and fries for the guest of the night. It was silly. Truly she hadn’t had a real slumber party in ages, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement that she’d be hanging out with Harry all night. It was possible that her small crush on him was making her feel all giddy but she’d push down that feeling until he gave her any extenuating signals.

Because the truth was that they were both single, young adults and this was such an unlikely scenario. No one would look at this and say Oh how cute of these two grown adults hanging out in bed together for a sleepover. So innocent! No, she knew better. While maybe nothing would actually happen it certainly wouldn’t look innocent.

And of course, she did pick out the perfect pijama set. Something a little more flattering on her body but not too hey I really need to get laid tonight. It was a happy compromise. Cotton shorts and a button-up, matching short-sleeved top. This was just supposed to be a slumber party after all.

Right?

Besides, the little paper invitation she gave him on Monday morning told him to arrive in his sleepwear so she had to look the part. And not to toot her own horn but she made a very cute invitation just for him tucked into a pink envelope with a separate little response card that had space at the bottom for him to mark yes or no if he could come. It was a yes. Obviously.

When Harry finally arrived he was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. And for some fucking bizarre reason he looked so much hotter than he did when he wore his well-fitted suits at work.

Because goddamn did his shirt somehow just hug his torso in all the right spots and it allowed her to take a good look at all tattoos on his arms that were normally hidden under brushed wool jackets or long-sleeved button-up shirts. She knew he had tattoos. She’d seen him roll up his sleeves a couple of times but she never wanted to be rude and stare for long.

And then the sweatpants, while loose in the legs, fit his waist and hips and…

“You okay?” Harry was still standing in the doorway with his backpack draped over his arm waiting to be invited in.

“Yeah, sorry. Not used to seeing you dressed down like this. Almost unrecognizable.”

Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as Y/n stepped aside to let him in, “Would you like to see my ID? Swear I’m the Harry Styles, the guy you invited over for chips, popcorn, and truth or dare. I’ve even got your invite somewhere in my bag…”

She breathed a laugh through her nose and watched him enter into her space, “Movies too. Oh, and I also ordered cheeseburgers. Remembered that you mentioned that.”

He seemed quite pleased with the burgers as she handed him the bag. She got those small ones, five to an order, “Thanks. Fries too, huh?” He reached into the bag and pulled out three crinkle-cut french fries then stuffed them into his mouth.

“So should we settle in and pick out a movie?” She gestured toward her couch.

Harry had seen the pull-out couch with heaps of pillows and blankets when he walked in. He knew that that would be where they’d be spending most of the evening. It was the glaring thing about the whole slumber party slash sleepover. That they’d be probably sleeping next to one another. As two young, healthy, attractive adults.

“Sure,” he nodded and waited for her to pick which side she was going to take before climbing in next to her, the thin mattress and metal frame giving way gently under his weight before he leaned back against a mountain of pillows, bag of burgers safe in his hands.

Y/n had a few video streaming services at the ready and they settled on a cheesy comedy from the late 90s before Y/n reached over to her coffee table and then lined up all the snacks between them.

They chatted a little, having both seen the movie already. Topics were anything from what their plans were for the rest of the weekend to what they’d eaten for lunch at work. And it was only a little awkward when they both reached into the bowl of M&M’s at the same time, fingers brushing together.

Harry moved his hand away, “Sorry. You go…”

Y/n grinned at him, scooping a handful of candy into her palm, and then sat up, adjusting her seating as she crossed her legs together, “Wanna do truth or dare? Pretend like we’re 15 again having a sleepover. Really get into the whole slumber party vibe, ya know?”

Harry dug out a few M&M’s and let out a chesty laugh, “If I’m 15 again we’re in big trouble.”

Y/n snorted a laugh, “Why? What do you mean?”

He shook his head, a wide grin on his face with deep set dimples carved into each cheek as he turned his head to look at her, “If this were happening when I was 15 I’d already be in the bathroom hyperventilating and probably trying to will away a boner after our hands touched in the M&M’s bowl.”

Y/n guffawed and threw her head back, nearly choking on her bite of chocolatey candies as Harry laughed with her. Honestly, it was the best icebreaker she could have asked for. Things had been kind of clunky between them up until that moment as they were still trying to navigate how to act around one another. And she knew he was teasing but the good belly laugh that she got from Harry’s story was exactly what they needed.

“Okay fine. We’ll just keep going about it as adults then. No fifteen-year-olds here tonight,” Y/n chuckled as she shoveled a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.

Y/n kept her eyes on him as she chewed her mouthful, “So truth or dare?”

Harry cocked his head at her, “So the mood is right then? For truth or dare?”

Y/n’s brows furrowed, “The mood?”

“Yeah. You said it over drinks. Remember when you were telling me what the most important components are to a sleepover and you said you liked truth or dare if the mood was right.”

Nodding slowly, she thought back to what she’d said, “Yeah. I guess I did say that. And I mean… I think the mood’s right for a little truth or dare. Movie’s almost over and you just pretty much kicked us off with that truth.” A breathy laugh was pushed from her mouth.

She could tell Harry was mulling on another question as he bit the inside of his cheek, head tilting in agreement, “So that means it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

Biting her lip as she pondered, she pressed her back into the soft pillows behind her, “Truth.”

Harry shifted to his side, long legs stretching the length of the mattress as he propped his head up in his hand, a pillow under his arm, “Have you ever kissed a co-worker before?”

Scoffing Y/n moved to her side, mimicking Harry’s position on her side, “No,” she grinned. It was true. She’d never once done anything with any of her coworkers. Having Harry over at her house was the closest she’d ever gotten to doing anything like that. “Now you. Truth or dare?”

His green eyes slid over her features, “Truth.”

She laughed to herself, trying to think of something funny, “How many stuffed animals do you own?”

Licking his lips he nodded, “Think maybe two? Gifts from my niece… Truth or dare?”

“Mmm… dare,” she giggled.

Harry lifted a brow, “Ahhh… feeling bold yeah? Okay… hmm…” He pursed his lips to the side as he considered the dare. “Read to me the last text you sent to anyone. And you have to show me to prove it was the last one. And it can’t be any texts you and me, cause that’s not fair.”

Y/n blinked. She wasn’t exactly sure what her last text was besides Harry. But she was slightly worried because if it was what she was thinking… lifting up her message app she scrolled down to the text thread below Harry’s and it was a text with her sister. Which was what she had been worried about. She gulped, hoping that the things she said about her “coworker” who was coming to stay with her weren’t the last things she and her sister texted about.

Puffing out a breath she covered up all the previous texts to show Harry the last text from her sister – God knows you need it. Sending you good vibes, sis ;)

Harry squinted as he looked at the message and pointed, “That’s to you. The dare was to show me the last text you sent to someone. Let’s see it…”

Feeling her neck heat up she angled the phone away from him and read what she’d sent her sister. And there was no mention of Harry but if he were even halfway decent at picking up clues he might be able to figure out what was being discussed prior.

She shook her head and looked up at him. She couldn’t believe she was about to show him what was on her screen. But a dare was a dare. What was the worst that could happen?

lol I doubt anything will happen but I wouldn’t turn him down. Got condoms just in case 😜 send all your good vibes my way

Harry’s brows squished together as he looked at the text and back to Y/n and then down again at the words on her screen. She saw his throat bob and she knew the look on his face. He fucking knew what that was. He had to know.

She had to look away. She pulled the phone down and killed the screen. The awkwardness between them thick and uncomfortable as she peeked back at him. The edge of his mouth was pulled upward in a smirk, “That’s to your sister?”

Nodding she blew out an exasperated breath, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry grinned as he positioned his knee closer to Y/n, his eyes still on hers, “Dare.”

Swallowing her embarrassment down the best she could she decided to ask him the same, “Now show me the last text you sent anyone besides me.”

Harry’s smartass grin told her all she needed to know. That his last text probably wasn’t nearly as risqué as hers.

And it wasn’t. Not even close.

You can have two pounds for free. I’ve got so many growing I can’t keep up. As long as you come to pick them up on Monday they’re yours.

“I have a bunch of zucchini growing in my garden,” Harry pulled the phone away and laid it down next to his hip. “Got a neighbor who wants some.”

Of course, his last text to anyone was about zucchini. Jesus, she was so far out of her depth.

He was still wearing that shit-eating grin as he said, “Truth or dare, Y/n?”

And the way he said her name, all slow and sexy-like had her insides heating up. Well, maybe she made up the sexy part but he was definitely teasing her. She could just feel it.

“Truth.”

She was sure she’d regret that. Truth or dare. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from showing him her texts.

“Was that text about me?” Shit-eating grin in place as he asked. Fucker.

Y/n’s eyes grew wide dropping her mouth open in surprise. Of course, he was going to ask that. Of course!

“Oh come on, Harry…” she pleaded.

He lifted his brows and awarded her a larger grin with those cute indents scoring into his cheeks, “Them’s the rules, baby. You chose truth and now you have to be honest.”

Clearing her throat she sat up to her bottom and leaned forward so she didn’t have to look at him as she put her head in her hands and laughed in disbelief, “Jesus. Seriously?”

“Yep. Spill. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. It was about you.”

Keeping her eyes on her lap she waited for a smug remark. Some kind of teasing reply but it was quiet. Slowly she turned to look back at him and he was still lying on his side, head in his palm as he watched her, his eyes fixed to hers.

She shrugged, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry flattened his lips and squinted at her before cocking his head, “Hold on… Really? That was about me?”

Sighing she rolled her eyes, “Yes. Sorry. I was… it was just funny… it was me joking around with my sister is all.”

He blinked and looked down at the space between them as he nodded, “Okay. I see. So you didn’t actually mean it?”

“Well… I guess… We were joking. Obviously, nothing has to happen. I would never expect that. I…” she breathed out exasperated.

“Obviously nothing has to happen. Did you want it to happen?” His pupils were pinned to hers again.

Opening her mouth she stopped herself for a moment. She knew her answer was yes but she didn’t want to come off like a creep. She hadn’t expected it and assumed it wouldn’t. But the truth remained; she hoped it would happen.

Deflating her posture she laid back to her side to face Harry, tucking a pillow into her chest, “The truth is that I think you’re attractive and I haven’t been with anyone in kind of a long time and… she knows that, my sister. So we were just… it was lighthearted but yeah I mean… without any expectations, cause I would never… I hope you know that. But I did think it would be nice.”

“Nice. Yeah. I agree. It would be nice. And just so you know,” he swung his head to look over his shoulder before looking back at her, “I brought condoms as well. You know… just in case.”

She was a bit stunned at that. Was he…

“Dare me to kiss you,” he grinned, irises dropping to her lips for a second before looking back into her eyes.

She laughed, “That’s not how the game works. The rules are you can’t–”

“Fuck the rules. Dare me to kiss you.”

Shaking her head with a wide smile stretched across her face she felt like her skin was pricking as her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Looking back into his eyes she inhaled deeply, “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”

Harry’s smirk was unreal. The way he dragged his gaze over her face and down to her mouth was almost lewd, “Didn’t need to play truth or dare to get me to kiss you, Y/n,” he scooted in, grabbing the pillow she had tucked into her chest and tossing it away before he drew a hand up to her face, “You just needed to ask.”

She held her breath as he closed in slowly until it was as if all the tension in the room had popped and fizzled when his lips met hers.

He was so soft and gentle. Lips winding easily, carefully at first. And then she parted her lips more, kissing him back and letting her mouth press into his bottom lip before their tongues were meshed.

She moved her knee out to stabilize herself and knocked over the bowl of popcorn between them. Laughing into his mouth she gasped as she parted from him but he only reached for her again, placing his palm at the back of her head to pull her mouth back against his with a grunt from his chest as he pushed the bowl away and drove his arm underneath her side to keep her from getting too far.

Harry was softly moaning as his tongue worked its way into her mouth gently. It was clear he’d wanted to kiss her. That he liked it. And that notion made her head spin combined with the feel of his thumb traveling over her jaw. There was not going to be any stopping the momentum that had begun.

Well, except for when the bowl of M&M’s poured out against her leg. She had to push at him. As much as she would have loved to have kept making out, she would not have been able to enjoy melted chocolate on her legs or the bedsheets tucked around the mattress (think of the scrubbing she’d need to do!).

“Sorry,” she panted and looked down at the smashed pieces of popcorn and the chocolate candies strewn between them, “I’ve gotta pick this up. Our body heat will melt all these and it’s gonna be a big mess.”

Harry grinned, “Why don’t we just move this party to your bed for a little bit? Clean up later? The M&M’s won’t melt if we’re not laying on them.”

She laughed, already feeling overwhelmed and overheated from the kiss and now he was suggesting taking it to her bed? This was really happening, wasn’t it? She nodded and they both moved off the sofa sleeper to their feet, Harry following behind Y/n as she led him to her bedroom.

She already had her bedside lamp on. Bed made perfectly, everything tucked in and neat.

She turned to look at him and he stepped against her, palm splaying at her low back, “I dare you to get onto your bed and take your clothes off.”

A small laugh burst from her chest, “Oh, so now we’re just doing dares?”

He nodded, “Making up our own rules for this game. S’more fun this way.”

Letting go of her he watched as she stepped backward toward her bed and began to unbutton her nightshirt until it was shed from her body before she pushed her shorts down her legs. She was left in a pretty white bralette (something soft for bedtime) that stretched around her breasts and a pair of thin cotton panties that matched. She kneed up onto her bed and let her feet dangle off the edge and pointed, “Now I dare you to take off your clothes.”

He peeled his white t-shirt off, his hair mussing in the process. She watched with her lips parted at the gorgeous man stripping before her. Not only was he built exactly like what she dreamed of (tattoos, beefy, muscular, a touch soft, very masculine) but the boner tenting his sweats was hard not to home in on.

Harry stuck his fingers into the waistband and looked up at her, “M’not wearing any underwear, so be warned…”

She swallowed as the material lowered, belly button, happy trail, a bit of dark hair and then he pulled the stretchy waistband away from his body so his cock could push free and she was already clenching at just the sight as he removed his sweatpants, cock full and heavy between his strong thighs.

Jesus Christ.

Harry stepped forward, nudging himself between her knees and she leaned back to look up at him, “I dare you to take off the rest of this. Since I’m completely naked feels only fair.”

She bit her lip and looked down at his girthy dick. He was clearly not shy of his body, standing there like that, cock right in front of her. But why should he be shy when he looked like that?

Scooting back further into the bed she got up to her knees and pulled the bralette off first, feeling the heat of his gaze on her tits as she then slid her panties down her thighs. She wasn’t nearly as confident as Harry was as she quickly pulled at her top blanket and covered herself with a small laugh.

Harry stepped forward, one knee on the mattress before climbing in next to her, nosing at her cheek softly before his lips were connected to hers again. And she melted into him just like before. His mouth was magic or something because before she realized it, he’d pulled the blankets off her body and he had a big palm sliding up her thigh and over her hip, “Don’t cover up. So pretty. Knew you would be.”

She pushed her fingers into his thick wavey hair and felt her side hit the mattress as Harry pulled at her again, mouth still smeared against hers. He grabbed at her thigh, hitching it over his hip as he tucked in closer and it was warm and she could feel it. Feel him against her hip.

His giant hand smoothed against her bottom and up her spine until he was wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Y/n nudged in closer, driving her hips forward until she was practically straddling him. So Harry took that as his cue to move to his back, taking her hips in his hands so she’d follow with him.

It had caught her off guard, the sudden change in position but her lips never stopped moving with his. Their kisses were wet and she could smell their saliva, and a touch of onion even from the burgers he’d eaten.

He guided her hips down, his thick cock hot under her thigh until she felt her pussy drag against warm skin at the base of his dick. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pulled her up, letting her pussy glide up his length, “So wet already, Y/n…”

She was. It was embarrassing. Every inch of his shaft her pussy dragged against, coated him, wetted his skin. He kept pushing and pulling at her hips, using her slippery pussy like a soft wet toy he could run up and down his length.

Then she felt his fingers move around to her backside, digits sliding against her pussy as he licked into her mouth.

Gently she rolled against him and when she moved herself further down he pushed a fingertip inside, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my finger a little bit,” he whispered against her mouth.

He was filthy. She had no idea. He’d always been so sweet at work. So polite and respectful. But here he was reaching around her ass to get a finger inside of her cunt as she rubbed her pussy over his cock.

She panted into his mouth as she slid down around his finger, her clit smushed into his dick, slippery as she rolled up and down. But then he began to assist as he added another finger and began to fuck into her pussy, letting his digits curve into her the best he could from his angle. Slushy wet, she stopped moving her hips and parted from the kiss as she looked down at him. She could tell she was gushing all over his palm and probably his dick as she moaned.

“S’that feel good. You’re gettin’ my fingers all wet like it feels good.”

Nodding she gasped, “Yeah. Feels so good…”

Harry rutted up against her, his cock still pressed into her clit, and she panted, eyes still searing into his. She didn’t want to look away. She almost couldn’t believe he was in her bed fingering her like that.

“Your turn to dare me to do something. What do you want, Y/n?”

She moaned and closed her eyes. She was certain of what she wanted as she listened to the way his fingers gushed with each plunge into her.

“Fuck… dare you to… put on a condom.”

She popped her eyes open to peer down at him as he slid his fingers out of her, wiping her arousal on her ass, “They right here?” He moved his hand toward her bedside table, a knuckle tapping at the wood.

Climbing off of him she opened the drawer, “Yeah, a whole box. Hold on…”

Reaching over to pull out the condoms she felt Harry’s hands on her hips as he moved to sit up, then his lips were on her back, dotting warm kisses to her shoulder blades as she finally plucked a condom from the fresh box.

She watched him put the condom on and as expected, it didn’t cover his entire length. He was kind of a big guy. Well, maybe there was no kind of about it. Before today she had no idea he was packing like that. Though he always did come off as very confident and sure of himself.

She bit her lip as she watched him toss the wrapper away and then he kneed up to her, arm sliding to her back and carefully lowering her to the bed before spreading her legs apart as he fit himself there, sturdy thighs pushing against her soft ones.

“Gonna tell your sister her good vibes worked?” He smirked down at her, hands scouring her hips and tummy and then kneading softly at her tits.

Y/n laughed and reached a hand down to his knee before he pulled at her, making her thighs drape over his as he inched in closer.

“Hmm?” He was awfully teasing, she thought, grinning at her waiting for an answer.

“Probably,” she spit out in a laugh.  

Harry gripped at her thighs, lifting her a bit more to fit her bum over his bent knees and she wanted to scream in embarrassment when she realized he was inspecting her sodden vulva. She’d gotten herself all tidied up for him, should anything like this happen, so at least she had that going for her.

He smoothed his thumb through her pussylips, spreading them apart, and softly blew out a breath, “That is very pretty. Think we get him in there?”

She rolled her eyes as she watched him wrap his palm around his base and lay his fat cock over her mons, the condomed-tip reaching to her belly button, maybe further past, “Well, it’s made for it, so I’m pretty sure–”

“What… your pussy’s made to fit around my cock?” A cocky dimpled smirk gave way to a laugh.

“You know what I meant. It’s meant to… like…” she breathed out a laugh.

“Oh, I know… just fucking with you, Y/n.”

He gazed at her as he reared back, painting his cockhead through her labia, up and down, a soft bump into her clit before he repeated, spreading her soft lips apart as he watched the way his crown smeared her arousal between her creases.

When she moaned and wiggled her hips he pointed himself right at her little muscle, nudging softly forward, opening it up for himself. And she felt that first push, the way his tip fit into her, spreading apart and then stretching to accommodate his circumference.

“Oh god…” she breathed as he slipped in halfway and then pulled back.

“Almost there,” he panted as he kept his eyes on where they were connected, pushing and pulling back until she was swallowing him whole, his cock enveloped in her soft, warm pussy.

When he’d buried in whole, he moaned and watched her face twist up in ecstasy. Her lips were dropped open and her neck stretched long as she grasped onto the forearm of the hand he had gripping her waist.

Slowly he began to thrust, viscous liquid seeping from her pussy and sticking to his shaft. It was filthy. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out there was a splat and a plap sounding between them.

She let out a deep moan and her lips curled up, humid breath escaping her mouth as she felt him driving into her guts. He was taking it easy. Languidly fucking into her with wet splats every time he plunged in.

When her cunt was taking him easier and she was dripping down to her ass he moved in a little harder, faster. Angling himself over her, a palm down on the mattress so he could work into her with more gusto.

“Ah! Harry…” she squeaked at the stronger thrusts and clung onto his lats. He was panting, lips parted and pink, a curl falling over his forehead as he plowed into her splooshing pussy.

“Fuck you’re wet. Pussy is gushing, Y/n…”

Her brows pushed together as she gasped, her body knocked upward every time his hips met hers making her tits bounce. Harry didn’t know where to keep his focus. He loved watching his cock disappear into her hole but he kind of liked being right over her so he could see her face crinkle up every time he bottomed out and then her pretty breasts sway up and down. Or maybe he’d like to fuck her from behind, watch her ass jiggle as he pounded into her.

“Mmm… fuck that’s big!”

Harry groaned, “Yeah? Sure know how to sweet talk a man don’t you, pretty? S’hurt?”

She watched his face, a lusty grin, droopy eyelids as he continued muscling his way in deep.

She hissed when he bucked in, as if he was showing off just how deep he could push in and she coughed out, “Mmm… a little!”

Harry was going to lose his mind with her if she kept squeaking out moans and splatting around his cock like she was but he would be a gentleman and pull back a touch. Slowing down a little he sat up and moved his hand between them, smushing his thumb into her clit, which was so sticky wet even that swished and slid under the pad of his digit.

“Yessss…” she breathed out before murmuring on about how good it felt. “Oh fuck, that’s it. Oh god… please don’t stop… Harry, fuck, yes…”

The clit. The magical little nob that worked wonders as long as the man knew where to find it. Clearly, Harry knew right where it was. Knew how to circle over it, pressing against it just right. Knew how to fuck into her as well. Sliding his length through her vaginal walls, spreading her open, and grazing against her gummy little spot on the inside that had her buzzing and liquifying for him.

He watched her whine and squirm under him, loving how she was so into it. God that was an ego boost, “Like that, Y/n? Gonna come for me? Yeah?”

Her ears were already ringing when she lost herself, gripping around him and crying out as her orgasm washed through her tummy. Harry’s cock made her feel so full, so incredibly stuffed to the brim that it weighed her down and she could hardly move as he bulldozed into her, the pad of his thick thumb smushing fast circles over her throbbing nub.

Fucking her through it he gasped at how she spasmed and milked around him, her pussy trying to siphon his come right through his condom. But Harry wouldn’t come just yet. He had something to prove. Wanted to make a show of his prowess and give her something to tell her sister about.

So when she was finally calmed and her pussy wasn’t clamping around him like a vice grip he slid his hand under her head and kissed her gently, speaking low and soft against her lips, “Gonna have you flip over, okay? Just need a little more yeah?”

When he parted from the kiss she blinked up at him, fluttering lashes and out of breath, “You didn’t come?”

He shook his head, pulling himself out, gently before he placed his hands on her hips, “Not yet. I will soon, though. M’right on the edge. Won’t take me long.”

She rolled to her side as he lifted her hips and helped her get to her tummy. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing and rubbing each meaty globe in his big palms. Then he was straddling her thighs as he spread her gently and she felt him push his thick tip back into her pussy, sharp and hot. It was tighter, felt a lot fuller like that as he began driving in deep and then pulling out to his tip, before plowing back into the hilt.

His moans grew louder and, even he could admit, sounded quite whiny, pathetic. He was shaking as he watched his dick spread her in half, her soft ass jiggling as he smacked into her, skin patting, his cock leaking precum steadily into his condom.

He hissed when it felt too good. His balls squeezing and his fat dick throbbing inside of her. He thrusted forward, landing a palm down next to her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back as he rutted himself in, tucking his cock through her insides and puffed out a hot groan into her ear, “Fuck you feel good. Gonna make me come, baby…”

She moaned and nodded, “Come for me, Harry…”

He might have held out for another thirty seconds, possibly a minute longer but her breathy words, all sultry and pleading had him pumping into his condom in an instant. He gargled on a moan and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried in and stilled his hips, ass flexing so he could push in further if it were possible.

Y/n felt him crushing her back as he collapsed over her, panted breaths in her ear, cock still throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She didn’t mind it. Liked his weight on her like that. Enjoyed the way he seemed just as fucked out as she was. She could even feel his heart pounding in his chest against her back.

With a moan, she turned her head and nuzzled her face into her blanket with her eyes closed. She’d fall asleep that way if he couldn’t get up. It was quite warm and comforting. Like a weighted blanket draped over her body. And maybe she did doze off for a bit because when she opened her eyes she felt him moving off of her before he crashed down next to her, the springs in her mattress bouncing under him.

Pushing herself to lie on her side she ran a hand over his chest and he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his flushed face, “So this is what happens at slumber parties, huh? I’ve really missed out all these years.”

She giggled and nodded into her pillow, “Yep. They’re just like big orgies really. Normally there are more than just two people. It’s how I lost my virginity.”

Harry sputtered a laugh, “Really?”

Y/n couldn’t help but to cackle loudly and roll to her back, the biggest grin on her face, “No, silly. I was teasing.”

He slid a hand over her tummy, “So this isn’t what happens at slumber parties, then?” She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, “Well, not usually. But I think we made our own rules for this one today.”

“Yeah? Well, I have to give it to you. You throw a hell of a party. I’m certain this is gonna go down as the best sleepover in history.”

. . .

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran   @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince

@closureesny @angelbabyyy99 @damnasstyles @malwtilda @love-letters-to-uranus

@itjustkindahappenedreally @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs

@lc-fics @mema10 @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @harrrrystylesslut

@elidoho @gotdrxnkonu @cathy-1997 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @tiredinwinter

@princessaxoxo @angeldavis777 @lillefroe @monicaalexandraaa @hsonlyangelxo

@brittanyzelazno @lemoncrushh @golfrry @caynonmoondreams @danaehldy

@mellamolayla @ladscarlett @heartateasee @littlenatilda @virgopr1ncess

@finelinepie @michellekstyles @harrysredroom @harrydeary @mrs-anna-styles211994

@devilsqueen722 @bananabk9756 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @idkkkkkkk123lgb @freedomfireflies