#‘he’s probably full of himself but that’s a pretty sweet car’

[zombieplaygrounds]

cw: smut, fingering, blow jobs, choking, man handling, age gap relationships, afab!f!reader

Poor König, just wanted to court you right and proper. There was a significant age gap between the both of you - with him taking the lead. You were a real pretty thing, and he was in love. Helplessly so.

Call him old fashioned, but König wanted to "win your heart" the traditional way. Took you out on dates that he paid in full, showered you in flowers and jewelry, did his got damned best to be "charming". Safe to say he was desperate.

Yet you didn't seem to mind. Rather, you giggled at his bad jokes, even let him pull you into his lap, leaning into him as he mapped out your curves through your clothes. A dirty, delicious, man; one who thought you were the most innocent thing hes ever seen.

Come the time you both decide you were "ready" to take the next step. Didn't take you to a trashy hotel, or fuck you in his car like other men might've. König invited you to his home, cooked you a fresh dinner of something from his native country - a pleasant conversation with dim lighting. How fucking romantic.

In his mind, you were so compliant, so swooned by his love and nurturing nature toward you. Probably hoped it would own a few blissful moans this night, afterwards he'd tell you to quit your job and live with him while you were still cock drunk. But after dinner, when the conversation slowly stumbled into the bedroom and was discarded on the floor in the forms of clothes and underwear - well, it was safe to say you were anything but the innocent bird he thought to have nurtured.

Rather, you lead him to the bed, pushing him back to a seating on the bed. His hands tangled in your hair, groaning and grunting as you nipped and kissed all his favorite places. Neck, jaw, his muscles even; you were so fucking perversely thorough. It left him weak and malleable to your desires and sinful actions.

Couldn't even question you as you begged to suck his fat, weeping cock. Just nodded with a stupid, star struck expression in his eyes. His head bobbing backwards as you licked and greedily fit him inside your warm mouth. The hot muscle of your tongue swirling against the sensitive head of his cock, followed by the vibrating moans of your throat, it was all crashing down at him at once.

The moment he felt himself about to come to a seering hot climax, you pulled away, licking your precum smeared lips, your sticky fingers earning the same treatment afterwards.

"Mhh.. Choke me, please?"

You were so bold. So unbothered by your own words. König could help but use the remained of his breath to release a laugh. Kids these days, so fucking vulgar. Though, it wouldn't sop him from grabbing that pretty throat and lifting you back to his lap.

After all, the sweet folds of your pussy practically oozed prayers of attention. And König was not about to deny his angel. He'd have his thick fingers ramming into your cunt, spreading them from the inside while you whined and cried his name; almost helplessly orgasming from some choking and fingering alone. König would give you proper whore treatment if that's what you begged for.

[themultifanshipper]

I don’t know if your down but I need more mark webber smut or jenson or even both I just can’t find anything for older divers except seb (don’t get me wrong I love them but fuck I need mark and jenson ones so bad ) also love your fics but the foursome one was next level

 After Danica got fired, Jenson hoped there would be no replacement. That he’d be paired up with one of his other SkySports colleagues. 

Instead, you showed up. All pretty eyes and bashful glances, and he didn’t know quite what to do with himself. 

(Yes that is an old pic of Jenson to which I added a beard, you're welcome)

Warnings: smut, age gap, masturbation, making a sex tape, multiple orgasms, Ted Kravitz being cringe at the end (but that’s why I love him don’t @ me), not proofread

Jenson knew you were always nervous around him. Understandable, given how much disdain he’d shown his previous colleague. 

You were incredibly sweet to him, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t immediately smitten with you. Very early on he decided to not get too close to you, for a number of reasons. You were young, definitely too young for him, and he didn’t want to come off as the creepy older colleague infatuated with the woman under his wing, so he kept a reasonable distance. 

It didn’t take you long to get used to the job. You were young, but you were incredibly mature. Never distracted, always asked pertinent questions in interviews, and in no time you felt right at home in front of the cameras. A true professional. 

Which was more than could be said for what went on inside Jenson’s mind every time he looked at you. He didn’t know how to act around you. He didn’t want to come on too strong or you might get the wrong idea, and he didn't want to scare you off.  

Unfortunately, that didn’t translate very well on camera, and just made him look like he didn’t like you at all. 

He admired you, in a way, being one of the youngest in the biz. He knew he stared at you way too much, but you didn’t seem to notice.

He was sure everyone else probably noticed, so he decided to stop staring, and instead tried to look as neutral as possible whenever he was around you. 

“She’s so much nicer than Danica, I don’t get why Jenson doesn’t seem to like her” 

People on twitter didn’t know how to react. 

“Why is Jenson looking at her like he wants to run her over with his car 😭” 

You would spend quite a lot of time reading tweets about you. Sue you, you wanted to see if you were well received by the fans, knowing full well how critical people could be. 

“If Jenson wants to quit his job I’ll gladly take his place if I can be next to her” 

And they were half reassuring, half mortifying. Because yes, they seemed to like you, and appreciate you replacing Danica, but you indeed started noticing how Jenson looked at you during interviews. 

You had no idea why he didn’t like you. You couldn’t remember doing anything to annoy him, and he sure as hell hadn’t said anything to you whenever you talked to him alone, so why did he look at you like he wanted to run you over? 

The actual problem, was that Jenson’s mind wandered. And it wandered into very dangerous territories. 

He knew it was wrong, and he knew he should stop it immediately, but something about having forbidden fantasies about his colleague was too exciting to stop. 

So when he was feeling particularly riled up, or bored, or whenever he was at home, really, he’d think about you. 

About your soft lips that he couldn’t help staring at. About your hands, your delicate fingers wrapped around the microphone while you held it up to whoever you were interviewing. 

He thought about those infuriating shirts you wore. They weren’t low cut, but they were tight. 

He thought about the time he’d been working out in the hotel gym at night, when you sauntered in, in nothing but a sports bra and tight shorts. He didn’t know whether to be thankful or spiteful of the hot Singaporean weather. 

“Oh hi, Jense!” you’d called out cheerfully. 

Jenson’s hips stuttered and he came all over his hand at the memory. Damn you and your tendency to give people affectionate nicknames. 

Sometimes, when he needed... material, he’d pull up your instagram. You had a few photos on there of you in tight dresses at events, and... some of you at the beach, wearing bathing suits with varying degrees of coverage.  

He never lasted long when he pulled those out. 

It never took long for the guilt to set in either, gnawing at him while he did his best to go about his business. He knew he had a problem, but he didn’t know what to do about it. 

He was in half a mind to quit his job, but even that idea failed him when he saw your sweet sweet face look sad when he’d mentioned his retirement. 

So months went by, and you got closer. One could even say you were friends. You got on well, and when you were alone the banter flowed naturally, despite the generational divide. You had the same sense of humour, often jokingly flirting at each other. He called you ‘young lady’, and you called him ‘old man’... and in a way it helped him stay on track, not get too absorbed into the chemistry he had with you.  

But the guilt still gnawed, and when the cameras rolled, he put the stick back up his ass and pretended you were nothing more than Danica’s replacement. 

Who the fuck decided it was a good idea to race in Vegas, in november? 

He felt like he was stuck in a loop. An endless cycle of guilt and pretty eyes and twitter comments. 

...

Whoever it was deserves to get their head bashed in, Jenson thought as he huddled against some tyre warmers. 

Evening sessions were a nightmare, and they just got colder as the days went on. The tyres may have been cold, but you and Jenson were freezing your proverbial nuts off while you waited for the drivers to get out of their cars after qualifying. 

The interviews were fine, but it was clear everyone was just desperate to get back to their hotels to warm themselves up.

Everyone except Jenson, it seemed. 

... 

You ran into him in the lobby of your hotel when you went down to ask for blankets. 

Apparently, the biting cold was fucking with the electricity, so the heating wasn’t great in some of the rooms. And the phones were dead, so you had to go to the lobby if you needed anything. 

It was around 2 AM, and Jenson was at the bar having what appeared to be a whiskey on the rocks. 

“Jense? What are you doing down here?”  

His eyes snapped to you immediately and he sighed. 

“Could ask you the same question, young lady.” he chided, and you rolled your eyes. 

“The heating’s not working properly so I’m going to ask for blankets” you took a seat on the bar stool next to him “What about you, old man?” 

He huffed out a laugh, taking in your polka dot pyjamas peeking out from the fluffy dressing-gown you had on. 

“The heating’s completely off in my room. And they’re out of fucking blankets.” 

Your face fell, the blankets had been your last hope. 

“Shit...” you eyed him as he took another sip. “That’s rough...” 

“Yup” he popped the ‘p’ dramatically, fingers wiping at the condensation on the side of his glass. 

“And your plan is... to stay here and drink until tomorrow?”  

He chuckled. “No, my plan is to drink as many of these bad boys as it takes to not feel the cold anymore, and by that point, I should be slightly happier about being here” 

He winked at you and downed the rest of his glass. You knew he wasn’t a fan of Vegas, and neither were you, so it had become a sort of inside joke. 

“That’s a terrible plan. It’s better to have company in the cold than drink it away on your own.”  

“So... what? Are you going to drink with me?” he chuckled “You going to give an old man some company?” he cringed at his choice of words, the whiskey must have already affected his judgement. 

You leaned in closer with a cheeky smile. “No... I’m inviting the old man up to my hotel room.”  

Jenson’s brain stalled as he stared at his empty glass. 

“I uhh...” he gulped “I’m not sure that’s a good idea” 

“Why not? I’m sure we can find some way to keep warm...” you muttered, sliding off your chair. 

This couldn’t be happening. Jenson tried to keep his cool while his mind went a million miles an hour. He was just imagining things. You were not flirting with him, it was the whiskey making him interpret your words as something else. You weren’t suggesting- 

“If we work together, I bet we’ll be sweating by the end of the night” you purred. 

‘Don’t do it Jenson’, his brain supplied, she’s only joking. She doesn’t want you in that way, you’re much too old for her! Don’t throw your career away over- 

“Besides, what’s the point of touching yourself to my instagram photos, when the real thing is waiting in the next room.” 

Your hand on his thigh made him jump slightly. He turned his head to look at you questionningly. 

“You’re not as slick as you think you are” you smiled, fingers brushing against his rapidly growing bulge. “Did you know that when you accidentally like a pic, then unlike it, it still sends me a notification?” 

Jenson gritted his teeth, but made no effort to move your hand. “Obviously not, no” 

“And did you know” you grinned, movements growing bolder as you rubbed him through his pants “that you’ve liked the same 4 posts about 50 times, and always at night?”  

Your body was pressed against his side, and he was basically throbbing under your touch as he tried to keep his composure. “And you seem to really like the ones of me in Bali...” 

He tried to choke out an excuse, but you cut him off. “I know you want me...” your faces were inches apart, he was panting against your lips as you teased him. “So come and get me” 

You retreated completely, turning on your heel to walk across the lobby. Your heart was beating through your chest at what you’d just done. 

You pressed the button for the elevator and waited with bated breath, not daring to turn around. 

It felt like an age before the doors finally opened, just as you suddenly felt his presence behind you. 

He undid your robe silently and slid a hand into your pyjama pants, and his breath hitched when his fingers came in contact with your wetness. 

He quickly pushed you inside, clicking the button to your floor before pressing you against the mirror.  

“Fucking hell... you’re soaked” 

“Jenson, please” you begged, and he didn’t hesitate to slip a finger inside you, curling it perfectly as you mewled under him. 

“Desperate little thing, aren't you?” he cooed, adding another finger. 

Your eyes rolled back, breath fogging up the mirror as the obscene sound of his slick fingers filled the small space. 

By the time the elevator got to your floor, you were trembling and gasping for air. 

You couldn’t keep your hands off each other all the way down the corridor, slamming each other against various walls and probably making a racket while you were at it, but neither of you gave a damn when it felt so good to be touched.

...

Clothes were thrown haphazardly all over the place, and he wasted no time spreading your legs to get a taste of you. 

Well, he got more than a taste. He buried his face between your thighs, not once coming up for air as his tongue dragged you to edge of a mind numbing orgasm. 

It wasn’t too long before you started to feel the burn of his beard insistently rubbing against your inner thighs as he ate you out with gusto, but his mouth felt so good sucking on your clit, you didn’t care, if anything, it made the sensations more intense. 

But he didn’t stop there, he kept going, sliding his fingers into you, that he curled expertly against your g-spot. 

His extra years of experience hadn't been wasted, you thought. After all, everyone knew what he was like back in the day... and he certainly knew his way around.

That’s how he got you to your second orgasm of the night, thighs clamping down around his head as your hips bucked against his skilled tongue and fingers. 

He crawled over you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, in which your could taste yourself, and feel your wetness cling to his face. The kiss quickly turned sloppy when your hand went down to stroke his cock, thumbing at the tip to spread his precum around. 

“This is definitely better than your holiday in Bali” he groaned and you giggled at the statement. 

He lined himself up with your dripping cunt, ready to slide in and make all his fantasies come true, when you suddenly had an idea. 

“Wait!” you gasped, pushing him away and looking around wildly. “Where’s your phone?”  

“What?” he panted. 

“Or mine, either will do” you spotted one of the two on the floor just next to you so you reached down and took it, turning the camera on. It was Jenson's.

“What on earth are you doing?” he asked, hands wandering across your thighs impatiently. 

“Giving you some new material” you propped it up on the nightstand and started recording. “Lie down” 

You shuffled around until he was laying on his back and you were straddling his hips, his tip poking at your entrance. 

“Ready, old man?” you smirked. 

He scoffed, swatting your hips. “Have some respect for your elders” 

You rolled your eyes playfully and sank down on him.  

Despite your earlier orgasms, it was quite a stretch. His girth was enough to get a punched-out groan from you as you took him all the way to the base. 

You steadied yourself on his chest and rode him slowly at first, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, then set a faster pace, angling your hips to take him deeper. 

“That’s it... bounce on my cock, good girl” he moaned, rolling his hips in time with your thrusts. 

You looked like a goddess, towering over him, brows knit together in pleasure and he couldn’t believe this was real. He half assumed this was a whiskey induced wet dream. 

One of his hands came up to pinch your nipples, and you squealed at the rough treatment, but it only made you wetter as you picked up the pace of your hips. 

His thumb went to circle your clit lazily and you whined, biting your lip at the added intensity of his stimulation on your puffy oversensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Jenson” you gasped. You could feel yourself nearing another orgasm, and he felt you tightening around him, so he wrapped a hand around your neck to pull you down for another kiss, and took the opportunity to thrust up into you. 

You swore loudly, seeing stars as you came around him while he jackhammered his cock into you, chasing his own high.  

You pushed yourself back up, leaning over him to turn his phone off before looking down at his satisfied, dopey smile. 

He came inside you with a low growl, bouncing you on his cock a couple more times before releasing his grip on your hip and neck in favour of cupping your face and deepening the kiss. 

Your body slumped over his, and you reveled in the absolutely filthy kiss he was giving you while one of his hands travelled to your ass and gave it a harsh squeeze.

“You cold?” you asked, trailing a finger through the sweat on his heaving chest. 

“Nope” he panted, grinning at you. 

“Up for round two?” you smirked devilishly. 

“Definitely” he smiled “Give me a minute though, I’m not in my twenties anymore”  

You giggled, finger trailing lower, along the bumps of his toned abs.  

“I don’t know... I think you’re pretty fit for an old man” you teased. 

“Please don’t call me old man when my cock is inside you”

... 

“Helloooo”  

The cheery voice of Ted Kravitz interrupted your thoughts while you were having breakfast the next day. 

“Hey Ted!” you greeted  “What’s up?”  

“In my life... not much. How about you? How’s it going with Jenson? Found any common ground yet?”  

In the beginning, back when Jenson didn’t speak to you much, you’d struck up a friendship with Ted, and told him about your worries. 

“Not much... I still don’t think he likes me very much, to be honest” you sighed. 

“Not really. We don’t see each other much outside of the paddock.” 

“Really? Nothing more than that?”

He looked at you with a knowing smile. You decided to play stupid. 

He snorted. 

“Riiiight.... so it wasn’t you two that I saw stumbling through the hallway last night with your hands down each other’s pants... guess it must’ve been somebody else, it was pretty dark, I suppose.”  

He smirked, getting up and plucking a donut off your plate.

You were forced to watch him strut off, and almost run into Jenson in the doorway.

Jenson said hello, but Ted just cackled and walked away.

"What was that about?" Jenson asked you, noting your terrified expression as your eyes stayed glued to the door.

"I think we have a problem"

[lukesaprince]

Rich Part 21

Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. The truth is revealed and extenuating circumstances lead to y/n spilling the beans about her and Harry.

Warning: HELLA SMUT!! Daddy!kink, oral (f receiving), dirty talk (degradation and praise ofc), spanking, spitting kink, creampie, mentions of death (specifically a child) and grieving, poor mental health.

Word count: 17k+

Author's note: I recommend reading Part 20 before this one as it's a direct continuation! Part 22 already has 7k words written so I PROMISE you won't have to wait a month to read more of my babies. Enjoy 😚😚

- Find Series Masterlist Here -

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“Please… Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

His mouth slotted with yours like the final puzzle piece. Smooth and effortless, melting into you while his hand moved from your neck to grab onto your hair. He was simultaneously protecting your head from the door and tugging right at the root of your pretty hair. 

The sting had you whimpering into his mouth, hands through his hair and over his chest and just everywhere while you reached up on your tippy toes to kiss back harder. You quite liked feeling smaller than him and Harry loved being bigger than you. Taller than you. Pressing his full body weight into you until all you could feel was him. 

“I don’t… I don’t have much time.” You murmured into his mouth, gasping as the kiss broke and he let his mouth skirt over your jaw. You always did have a sensitive neck. It was a sweet spot for you and Harry knew that. At this point he had memorised all your erogenous zones and the little things he did that turned you on and considered himself an expert in how to take advantage of it. 

He was always learning new things about you. Every day he found new details about you and fell deeper in love because of it. 

“You do.” His smirk curled against your jaw and focused one hand on your hair to tug your head back while the other squeezed over your waist. 

“I really don’t. My parents will see my car and wonder where I am. They’d be offended I saw you before them.” 

“I think they’d be a little more than offended if they knew what you were doing here. Wouldn’t they, darling?” 

Your gasp got caught in your throat, muffled by a moan when he bared his teeth against your neck. His mouth cushioned lower, tracing over what felt like every single inch of your bare skin. 

“Probably.” You just hummed in response, letting your eyes flutter closed while you relaxed into the feeling of his soft, wet tongue over your neck. 

“What would they say if they knew you called me Daddy, hm? Bet your mother would faint, wouldn’t she? Her darling little y/n.” Harry pulled away so you could watch the way his lips wrapped around each syllable. He pressed his hand over your throat again, keeping you pinned there as he undid the bow of your sweatpants. “Come on, baby. Tell me what she’d say.” 

You didn’t think he’d want a response to that when it sounded so rhetorical. More like a tease than something he wanted you to respond back to. 

“I don’t know. I don’t even want to-” the words got stuck in your throat when you felt his nimble fingers slide along the waistband of your sweatpants. He smirked at your reaction, scanning every inch of your face while languidly stroking your lower belly. “-to think about it. It's mortifying.” 

His eye contact was making you want to pass the fuck out and when his fingers found the band of your underwear you nearly did. You had missed this. The cat and mouse game. The teasing. Though it usually took a lot longer than the time you had. 

“It’s not mortifying when you’re doing it, though. Is it, baby?” He cocked his head, maintaining eye contact as he started to trace over your underwear down towards your clit. You shook your head quickly, grabbing onto his forearms. 

“Words.” He warned. 

“No. No it isn’t.”

“Feels quite… good. Doesn’t it?” He pressed right over your clit, rubbing purposed circles. The friction of your underwear was driving you crazy. But you wanted more and you were a little conscious of the time. 

“You know it does.”

“I know.” He smirked, leaning in to kiss your neck again. “I make you feel good. Don’t I?”

The questions were making your head spin. “Yes… yes.”

The friction suddenly disappeared from your clit, but just as you were about to make a noise of disdain, his hands were hoisting your legs up around his waist and he was carrying you through the house to his dining room. He set you down on the edge of the table, reaching in to kiss you deeply just long enough to have you gasping and tugging at his hair.

The kiss broke and his mouth trailed down your neck again. You made a pretty little whimpering sound that had Harry smirking against your skin while he worked on removing your pants properly. 

“I love when you do that…” he groaned, nimble fingers sliding along the waistband of your sweats, tucking into them and your underwear at the same time before very easily pulling them down under your ass until they fell to your ankles. The cool air hit your clit instantly, sending a chill down your spine and the tension of your legs that only increased when Harry continued to talk dirty to you. “When you whimper all pretty for me… ‘s my favourite thing in the world. Never takes long either. Could just kiss you and you’d moan for me. Isn’t that right?” 

His question hung heavy in the hair but all you could focus on was the sight of him dropping to his knees before you to help guide your feet out of the bottom half of your clothing. 

“Uhuh.” You agreed haphazardly, sweeping your hand through his hair at the first touch of his lips against your knee. He kissed down your calf until that ankle was out of your pants then switched sides to do the other, this time kissing up from your ankle to your knee to the sensitive skin of your thigh.

“Why don’t I give you something proper to moan about, hm? Would you like that, pretty girl?” Harry let his lips brush against your skin while his hands ran up and down your legs, running his thumbs over your knees like he was about to pry your legs open and dive right in.

Every touch had you breathing heavier, already getting worked up just from a few little kisses. It didn’t help that you were already on edge from his earlier teasing and knowing that things would get a little rougher than usual only made you needier.

Sex always was a bit rougher when ‘daddy’ came into play. Harry took on the role in full force and took full control of the scene. He usually spanked you more, grabbed you more, fucked you harder. Fuck… you hoped he’d spit in your mouth too, maybe smack his ringed fingers over your clit. You could ask for it of course and he’d happily oblige (with a bit of teasing and degradation to accompany your request of course), but it was so much hotter when he just did it. When he owned you and treated you like a hole to use. 

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, tugging his hair a little harder. He smirked and nipped at your thigh, grabbing your calves to pull you forward until your legs widened to fit him between them. Grabbing your face suddenly, he squeezed your cheeks roughly until you whined in pain. 

“Where are your manners, huh? I thought I taught you better than that.” He tutted, maintaining eye contact while he spit suddenly on the fingers on his other hand before reaching between your bodies to find your clit. Harry didn’t want to stop looking at your pretty eyes for a single second. The moment he found your clit he tapped against it roughly, making your back arch at the repeated sting of his fingers. His saliva only made it hurt more and yet you found yourself loving every second of it. 

“Shit.” You cursed, clutching onto his shoulders. The sting had your toes curling, knees dug into either side of his hips in an attempt to curb the ache. “Shit.”

“If you’re a good girl, y/n, you’ll get treated nicely. Don’t you know what happens if you’re not, hm?” He smirked, pressing his palm to your clit while sliding two fingers down through your labia. You were soaked, already dripping for him to do something. Anything. He circled his fingers over your entrance, pressing just enough to make that delicious whimper echo around his kitchen before he dragged them back up to your clit. “Or has it been that long since I put your attitude in check?”

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Harry repeated the same movements, torturously dragging up and down… up and down from your clit to your entrance without doing anything remotely close to satisfying. 

“‘M sorry. I’m sorry Daddy. I got… fuck” you cursed when he nudged over your clit again. It was just a game now, a sadistic little game to see how wet he could get you without actually giving much pleasure. “Excited.”

“Excited? Or selfish?” He cocked his head, grinding his palm to your clit while squeezing your face a little harder. “Being needy doesn’t give you an excuse to be ill mannered.”

“You’re right. I’m-I’m sorry. I’ll do anything. I’ll be good. I promise.” The words came out as a hushed whimper of strung together desperation. Harry was loving every second of it. 

“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes. Please, Daddy.”

“Gonna let me do anything I want?”

“Anything. Anything.”

His cock stirred at the thought of being able to do anything to you. To have complete control over you. Of course, you truly had the power in the situation, but he loved that you chose to let him take the reigns. 

“Open your mouth.”

Harry slid his hand down to your jaw to give you space to move your mouth and as soon as you did, your lips parted just wide enough for him to spit right on your tongue. The sight was obscene. Your tongue sticking out to catch his saliva, his mark, his ownership. Your eyes were all glazed and pretty and you looked happy to take whatever he gave you. You were happy. 

He just couldn’t help himself, really. Couldn’t stop himself from getting a taste of your pretty mouth. It would’ve felt wrong not. You were his girl after all. His love. Kissing you was part of the job. 

Harry was quick to dart out and clasp his lips with yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth so he could rub his saliva over your tongue with his own. It was feral. Sloppy in the best way possible. He slid his tongue against yours, spreading his spit and the new saliva from your kiss everywhere.

You loved when he kissed you sloppy. When it was way too inappropriate for outside eyes. Something just for you. While his tongue told you exactly how he felt about you, he grabbed onto your hips and pulled you forward until you slid off the table, landing on your unsteady feet. 

“Take this off, yeah? Let me see how pretty you are.” He murmured, breaking the kiss just enough to speak while tugging upwards at the end of your t shirt.

You quickly obeyed and ripped your t shirt off, letting it land on the floor without care. You didn’t bother putting a bra on when you left Lucy’s, not when you were just going home and seeing Harry quickly - or at least you thought it would be quick - so you were left bare. Now you were grateful that you decided to do that, especially from the dark-eyed reaction you gained from your bare breasts being exposed to your lover.

“Fuck baby. Got the prettiest tits ever.” Harry cursed, palming over your exposed breasts while he connected your mouths again.

Your hands found home in his hair, reciprocating happily to his enthusiastic kissing. It was such a power imbalance being completely naked while he was still fully clothed. The anxious part of you hated it and felt so… small. Exposed. The bigger part of you, the one that got off on being submissive and degraded frothed over it. There was no feeling like his fully clothed body against your fully bare one, other than skin to skin contact of course.

That was your favourite.

“Driving me fucking crazy like this.” Harry murmured again, keeping one hand on your breast while the other trailed upwards to the little pearl necklace permanently fixtured on your neck. You only took it off to shower, otherwise it never left your body. You couldn’t bare to part from it because it was a constant reminder of Harry. Like he was always with you.

And you happened to love how possessive he became when his eyes landed on the little string of pearls. How they darkened ever so slightly. When you were in public it turned into a kiss or his hand squeezing your hand or waist, like it triggered some obsessive reaction. You weren’t sure if he caught onto the fact that the necklace somehow pavloved physical touch, but you did.

Sometimes you liked to draw attention to it on purpose to tease him, not that he knew he was being teased. When you were talking you might brush your hair away from your neck or fiddle with the pearls to draw his eyes there. It was fun. A game you were winning even if he didn’t know he was participating.

“And this…” He hooked his finger into the necklace, tugging it gently while simultaneously tugging at your bottom lip, releasing it with a pop. “You’ve got no idea how sexy you look with nothing on but this.”

“I never take it off…” You sighed.

“I know. I love you more for it.” He mused, nipping on your neck. “If that’s even possible.” Your head lulled back when he ran his hands down over your body again, landing on your hips where he quickly spun you around to face the table and pressed himself against you. “Love how soft you are too…” He complimented, pressing spongey kisses along your shoulder. 

You braced yourself against the table, letting yourself be pushed down flat against it by a gentle hand on the middle of your back.

“How you feel in my hands… my mouth…”

His mouth replaced his hand, trailing down until he was crouched behind you. God the sight of you was driving him crazy. 

Running his hands over your ass, he pressed a kiss to one of your cheeks, dragging his bottom lip against your skin as he released before kissing over to your other cheek. Then he spread you wide, eliciting a gasp when he spanked you and groaned at the way your skin rippled then spread you open again. 

“My tongue…” 

And then you felt it. His hot tongue met your clit, swiping through your labia right to your tight ring of muscles where he decided to focus his attention. Harry was aware you two didn’t have all the time in the world, but he just couldn’t compromise on his favourite thing. Tasting you. 

Your flavour, your scent, how wet you got. Like silky honey dripping down his throat and coating his lips. He was obsessed with it. Which is why he let himself a few moments of flicking his tongue against your ass before he moved down to one of his favourite parts of you. That pretty little clit. 

Your moans were like music to his ears. An array of whimpers and whines, pleaded whispers of his name and his honorific. There was nothing like hearing the moan of his name, even moreso when he was being your ‘Daddy’. You were much more pliant, more responsive. He wasn’t sure if it was your submission kicking in more than usual or because your kink was being stroked the entire time. 

Either way, he was reaping the benefits. 

You were so hot and sweet and were wiggling like a fucking worm in his grip. He had to hold onto your hips harder to keep you still, but that didn’t stop your clenching and trembling when he sucked particularly hard on your clit or fucked his tongue inside you. 

So fucking responsive.

“God, you taste so fucking sweet, baby. My favourite meal in the world.” He praised, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking a little rougher than usual just so you’d cry out for him.

“Please. Please.” You begged, forehead pressed against the table.

“What?” Harry mused, sliding his tongue toward your entrance and pressing it there. You clenched on impact and he could feel it at the tip of his tongue. All he could think about now was getting inside you. God, he was so hard. So painfully hard. 

“Need you. Please, Daddy. Need your cock so bad.” You begged clearly this time, needing to be filled more than anything. 

“Yeah? Need it bad, do you?” Harry stood up, kissing your cheek on the way up before he was ridding himself of his clothing. He was already hot and worked up and he knew that the moment his cock touched you he’d be sweating all over. Besides… he wanted to feel you. He wanted to press his chest into your back and feel your thighs against his.

He craved the intimacy of skin to skin like nothing else.

“Yes. Fuck. Yes.” You sighed, nearly screaming in relief when you felt the tip of his cock bump against your clit. 

“I’ll give it to you baby…” He soothed, dragging his tip through your folds to collect your wetness over his cock. “I’ve got you…” His tip pressed against your entrance and you swore you could’ve cried when he slowly pushed in. “Shit.”

“Fuck.”

He stretched you slowly, torturously, like he wanted you to feel every inch of his cock. Every vein and ridge and the way he got slowly wider at the base. It wasn’t something you’d feel when he was fucking you roughly, but God it was all you could feel now. The stretch, the ache, the way your knees buckled when his hand pressed into your lower back to keep you still.

And then the slow, tortuous teasing ended and without any warning he drew his hips back and slammed back into you in a way that had your lungs losing all their breath. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers dug tightly so there was this constant ache that seemed to reach its way straight to your soul. 

And you fucking loved it. Every bruising thrust, every snapping sound, the way Harry moaned and cursed, telling you exactly how much he liked it. He never was shy from making sounds of pleasure and it was one of the things that made sex with him so hot. 

“You’re so tight. Shit, baby. Always so fucking tight around me.”

“Oh God. Harry!” 

“Wrong name, sweetheart.” He reprimanded with a heavy spank on your ass, the snapping sound echoing throughout the room. “Say the right one. Say it.” 

“Daddy.” You moaned pathetically, earning another spank right on the other cheek. The sting was the most satisfying sort of burn, a pain that lingered and ached but only made everything so much better. It fuelled your pleasure, contributing to the orgasm you had been waiting for twice now. 

It didn’t take long to reach it. Not when he had already teased you with his mouth and fingers and now was fucking you so damn good you could barely breathe. Harry didn’t stop once you rode through your orgasm, no, he took it as an opportunity to give you barely ten seconds of rest and flip you around so you were lying flat on the table. He was nestled back in you before you knew it, in a single fluid thrust that had you crying out from sheer sensitivity. 

He didn’t seem to care, or he did but just liked to see the way the tears streamed down your face. And you were okay. He knew you were okay because he checked in with you in that ten seconds of rest, making sure you were green before he flipped you over to fuck you how he wanted. 

And fuck. This was how he wanted you. 

“You just take it so fucking well, don’t you sweetheart? Always squeeze around my cock so tight.” Harry uttered through gritted teeth, fingers achingly squeezed into your cheeks while his eyes remained glued to where you two were connected.

Harry always loved fucking you from behind. The heart shape of your ass, the way he could see all your pretty holes and how you clenched around him, the way he could get his cock inside you deeper than other positions… how he could grab your hips and fuck you hard, bruising your insides and out. He liked being able to spank your pretty ass and thumb at your tight ring of muscles and he especially liked spreading your cheeks and burying his face between them. 

But nothing compared to watching your face. The way your eyes would roll back into your head, how they’d flutter and close when something felt especially good. The scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brow and the way your mouth would part in a whimper when something hurt a little too good. The way your jaw would clench and slack and how dazed your eyes got when he wrapped his hand around your throat.

He loved watching the effect he had on you. Your face showed him how good he was making you feel in a way your body didn’t and it became a little game to him on how to get you to make certain facial expressions. 

Mostly though… he liked watching your eyes gloss over the harder he fucked you, the meaner he was. He loved to watch you slip into an ultimate state of submission and pleasure. 

“Daddy…” You moaned, unable to come up with anything in reply to him. You were already too far gone. 

“I know.” He sympathised. “Shit baby, you feel so fucking good. So good. Got the best pussy, you do.” 

There was nothing like having a man moan for you. When they whimpered for you, praised you.

“Love your cock.” The words tumbled out without real thought, “feels so good. Always need it so bad.”

Shit. You didn’t talk dirty very often, not that Harry minded. He liked to watch your reactions when he uttered total filth. But Jesus… when you said anything remotely sexual like that, that you loved his cock? For a moment he feared he was going to prematurely cum before he made you finish for the second time. 

“I love when you talk dirty to me, baby, but you’re gonna need to stop if you want me to keep fucking you.”

You let out a choked laugh at his words, loving how one small compliment had him stilling for a second to collect himself. You clenched on purpose, gasping with a smile when he pinched your cheeks a little harder. 

“Spit in my mouth.”

Now you were just fucking with him. Through the haze of your pussy being completely destroyed by him, you still managed to tease him and be a fucking brat. 

“God, you’re fucking filthy today.” He gritted, cocking his head while sliding his hand down your jaw to the top of your throat so he could tuck his thumb into your mouth. “Open up.”

Your lips parted instantly, earning a pleased ‘good girl’ in return that had you happy as anything. “Stick your tongue out.” Again, you followed his instruction instantly, whimpering when his fingers dug into the sides of your neck with purpose. “That’s it. Good girl.”

It all happened so fast. The praise. The hammering of his hips against yours. The woozy pleasure feeling clouding your brain like a drug. All of it. And then it happened. Harry collected the saliva in his mouth and spat it all over your tongue, watching with sick satisfaction as your saliva slid down to the back of your throat. He groaned loudly and leaned in to kiss you fiercely, picking up the pace against your hips in a way that had tears trailing down your face. 

It was so good. So so fucking good. It felt like your whole body was on fire. Every square of your body was pressed against his and when he fucked you particularly hard, the dining table scraped across his gorgeous wooden flooring. Harry didn’t give two fucks about his scratched floors, if anything he liked the thought of always looking at a constant reminder that you were his. 

“Can’t believe what a little slut you’re being tonight.” He grinned, palming over your breast and pinching your nipple until you cried out and arched against him. “You fucking love my spit, don’t you? That’s why you asked for it. Because you love being my filthy little slut.”

Filthy little slut. God you loved when he was a little mean to you. A lot mean sometimes too. 

“Uhuh. Love it so much.” You nodded enthusiastically, well, as enthusiastically as you could after an orgasm and his cock so deep inside you, you swore you felt it in your throat. 

“Yeah? Take some more than. Since you want it so fucking bad.” He spat into your mouth again, using two fingers to roughly spread it over your tongue. He pushed them back, laughing when you suddenly gagged around his fingertips. “Aw, poor baby can’t even handle my fingers, hm? How do you manage my cock then if you can’t even take two fingers down your throat?” 

He grabbed your neck this time and pushed you back until you were lying down on the table before grabbing your ankles to hike them on your shoulder. 

Yeah… a lot mean was fucking hot. 

“Harry.” You protested, covering your face with both hands. 

Your whole body was heating up from how mean he was being. Maybe even a little shy at how much you liked it. It shouldn’t have been a surprise anymore that you liked it, not when you two had so much practice with it. Yet you still found yourself getting nervous when he looked at you a certain way or said a certain thing. You rather liked it like that. You never wanted to lose the butterflies. The romance. The big pile of mush you turned into when he degraded you and used you. 

“Don’t start being shy now, Angel. You know you like it.” He smirked, reaching forward to grab your hands from your face. He interlaced your fingers, drawing your hands down to rest on your belly so he could look at you. “Wanna look at you, baby. You’ve got the prettiest face. Look so gorgeous like this.”

Every word seemed to be egging you on, drawing you closer to the inevitable ecstasy that would flood through your core. The angle was so intense, so deep you knew that if he pressed on your belly, his cock would press through. 

“Oh god. I’m… shit. I’m so close.” You moaned, squeezing his hands and digging your heels into his shoulders. 

“Give it to me, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“My… my clit.”

Harry kept one hand intertwined with yours while the other moved down to your clit. He rubbed purposed circles over your bundle of nerves, delivering such perfect pressure it barely took a murmured ‘I love you’ for that wave of white hot pleasure to rush over you. His thrusts stilled at the feeling of you clenching around him and he was quick to widen your legs and fold over you so he could lazily slot your lips together. 

With a curse and a pretty whimper into your mouth that had your head spinning, Harry thrust once, twice, three final times until you felt his hot cum fill you up. His body was so heavy over yours, your sticky bodies pressed and joined together. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, wanting to keep him as close as possible to you. 

“God, that was so good.” He murmured, tucking his forehead into the crook of your neck.

“Agreed. I’ve missed that” you whispered, panting slightly as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Me too. Fuck.” He propped himself up over you, pushing your hair back from your face. “Are you okay?”

You smiled and let out a small laugh, tipping your head up so you could kiss him. “I’m more than okay. Two orgasms equals a happy girl.” 

“And what does three make you?” He grinned. 

“An even happier girl, possibly a tired girl.” You smiled, reaching your arms above your head to arch your back in a stretch. He shook his head and stood back straight, scanning his eyes over the light sheen of sweat on your pretty skin. 

“And you’re not tired now?” Harry raised his brow, looking down at your pussy to watch himself pull out. He did so slowly, careful not to hurt you and was completely mesmerised by the trail of cum that followed his cock. 

“Fuck.” You whispered, feeling an ache when he fully pulled out of you. “Of course I’m tired. A little sore too. I think I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”

“Mh. Me too. Wish we could sleep together.” He replied, eyes glued to his cum slowly dripping out of you. “I don't think I’ll ever get over how hot it is to see you like this.”

“Mmh.” You agreed, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at his cock covered in your cream. “I always thought creampies were overrated before you. Now… I love it.” Your eyes flickered back to Harry, who was already looking right at you with this dark look that made you want to climb all over him again. “I like feeling it later… even if it’s a little gross to sit in cold cum.”

Harry scrunched his nose up at that, “You could’ve made that so much sexier, y/n. Now when you go home I’ll be thinking of stale cum.”

“I didn’t call it stale! I said ‘cold’.” 

“Like that’s any better?” He laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “I’ll grab you some water and a towel, okay? Stay here.” 

“Like I’d go anywhere, I’ll drip stale cum all over your floor.” You shot back as he was already walking into his kitchen. You loved his ass. It was just so cute half the time you had this temptation to just whack it but you knew he’d hate it and probably retaliate ten times worse. 

There was something so sexy about him walking around stark naked without a care in the world. He had such confidence in his body and himself that he really didn’t care. You weren’t as confident as he was in that department but being with him had definitely made you more confident in your skin. 

“It’s already on my table, y/n. The floor won’t make much difference.”

You clenched up immediately at that comment, trying to stop more of his cum from dripping out of you. “Yeah… we’ve got to sanitise this. We eat here.” You scrunched your nose and sat up to look at the spot between your legs, finding his cum already dripped onto the table. 

“Baby I’d sanitise the entire house if it meant I got to fuck you anywhere and everywhere.” He smirked, coming back with a big glass of water and a damp tea towel. He had already cleaned himself up and was quick to crouch down before you to clean you up as well. You didn’t get very nervous about the cleanup anymore. Harry had wiped you clean and taken care of you dozens of times. 

“Thank you.” You smiled, grabbing the glass from where he had put it on the table beside you. “Your bed’s next. When we have more time.”

“I still can’t believe we haven’t christened my bed yet. It feels wrong.” He murmured, watching you 

shakily bring the glass to your lips while he grabbed your underwear from the pile of clothes on the floor and dragged them up your legs.

“I know. I’ve missed your bed. It’s a lot comfier than mine, more space too.” You had this little mischievous grin playing on your lips, one that Harry found incredibly sexy. 

You were still breathing a little heavily and managed to finish half the glass by the time you lifted your hips and Harry adjusted your underwear back in place. You attempted to set the glass down on the table beside you but before you could, he stood up and stopped you with a finger pushing the cup up towards you.

“Ah. All of it.” He tutted, looking at you expectedly until you brought the cup up to your mouth again. He maintained eye contact with you, one hand rubbing over your bare thigh while he kept a single finger underneath your glass. It was firm enough to tell you to keep drinking, but not enough so you wouldn’t be able to move the glass on your own. “Good girl… that’s it, drink all of it. Atta girl.”

You loved being fucked rough and dirty and since you two decided not to use condoms, your favourite thing was being pumped full of his cum, even more so when he degraded you when it happened. Like he just did barely two minutes ago. But there was something even better about the aftercare. His sweet tone, his commanding and caring nature as he got you water and a snack. All of it. 

And the praise. Somehow it was so much sexier when you two were post-sex, even more so when it was casual. A nonchalant ‘good girl’ when you did something he asked or a loving ‘I’m so proud of you’ when you got a good grade or finished an assignment. His atta girl at finishing your water nearly made you drop to your shaky knees and get him nice and hard again with your mouth. 

He said the words like they were nothing then moved on, not really caring that you were like a frozen deer at the first sign of praise. “I happen to like your bed. It’s cosy.”

“Yeah…” you breathed, “cosy and next to a thin wall where even adjusting in my bed can be heard by next door.”

“You don’t think they’d like hearing you call me ‘Daddy’?” He grinned, putting his sweatpants on and grabbing your t shirt to help put that on you too. You’ll definitely have to shower the second you walk into your house. There’s just no way you don’t smell like a sex club. 

“No, I don’t think so.” You finished the very last sip of your water, making sure there wasn’t a single drop left in the glass. Once it was all gone, Harry grabbed it from you and placed it down on the table out of the way, tipping your head up with a gentle finger under your chin while his thumb rubbed over the leftover wetness around your mouth from your drink.

“Thank you.” You whispered, kissing his thumb.

Harry smiled softly and guided your mouth to his for a single, deep, core-clenching kiss. It felt like a kiss that was promising so much more and even though you just had your fill, literally, it didn’t make you any less insatiable for him. There was just something about Harry dominating… truly dominating that turned you into a horny little rabbit. 

You wouldn’t be surprised if Harry called you that one day. It felt like the less you saw each other, the more insatiable you became. With the last couple of weeks being so busy, each time you’ve seen each other had been takeaway or a quick dinner and quick - but good - sex. You didn’t have proper time together and while fucking until the morning sounded and felt like a good idea in the moment, when you both woke up and Harry had his long commute to work or you had a day full of classes it became a regret.

Well, not a regret per se. You’d never regret sleeping with him. Ever. But you both complained about being tired the entire day to each other. More you than him since you loved to complain about everything and now Harry was fortunate enough to be the one to hear it all. It was worth it, but it was hard.

You couldn’t take every weekend, or even every second weekend off work to spend time with Harry because you needed money and he couldn’t ‘work from home’ to spend time with you. Driving so much took it out of both of you too so it was always easier if he stayed the night. Things would change once your parents knew and you had a bit more freedom… but you had a feeling they wouldn’t be totally happy with you spending nights with him instead of them.

And next door to top it all off.

Your anxious feelings didn’t help the situation either, but even with that little hiccup, you had missed time. Time where you two could just explore each other's bodies and try new things, go multiple rounds without the stress of your responsibilities. You had that before you two started dating so you knew that the changes to your sex life were mostly your fault. Or because of your situation. 

If you lived closer things would be a lot easier. But that was also life and you two were figuring out what worked for you and now to manage it all. Ideally, once you were finished with university, maybe you two would move in with each other or at the very least you’d want to live much closer to him. 

It was still so early into your relationship and you didn’t want to jump too far… but being full of his cum made your brain a little dizzy and romantic. Suddenly you were ready to forget your birth control and let him fuck a baby in you so you could be at home with him all the time. As a fantasy of course. 

Which is why your post-sex horny brain took a few seconds longer to process the next words out of his mouth. 

“Hey, um. I need to tell you something.” He whispered, forehead pressed against yours. He slid his hand along your cheek to cup your face, letting his fingertips comb through your hair a little. 

“Hm?” you asked, brows furrowing when you read the nervous look in his eyes. Your stomach dropped suddenly and that anxious gut feeling felt more rampant than ever. “What is it?”

“I have to go back to London.” 

“Oh, okay.” You were a little taken aback. Harry hadn’t mentioned any trips or work events or anything recently. The timing of it right after the phone call too felt a bit unnerving. You just hoped everything was okay. “When?”

“Just over a month.” He murmured, feeling that steady beat of anxiety claw at his throat. Harry hated that he had to ruin such a good moment, such a pleasurable, romantic experience to talk about this. He wasn’t sure how you’d react and it scared the hell out of him. 

“Wow, that’s short notice.” You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, threading your fingers casually into his hair. “Is it… family? Or work or?”

“Family. I…” he swallowed thickly, hugging his arms around you. “It’s my sister’s birthday. Everyone’s going to be there.”

“That’s great.” You smiled, relieved that it wasn’t something horrible. That he was okay. “That’ll be such a nice trip, Harry. Did you saw them last year when you went over?”

Harry didn’t speak about them a lot. He didn’t not speak about them and when they came up he always had something to say, but it also wasn’t a topic he brought up by himself. He spoke about his travels quite often, but even that topic hadn’t come up in a while. You were a little glad actually because you didn’t really want to think about him going away for so long. The thought of him in Italy looking all gorgeous and tanned without you made you violently ill. 

Harry shook his head and sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about my family.”

And there it was. 

“What do you mean?” You asked softly, trying not to jump to any conclusions. Whatever it was had to be deeply personal and you knew that. 

After the very brief mention of his nephew passing, you two hadn’t spoken about it once. You wanted to ask but it never felt like the right time and after that phone call, the last thing you wanted to do was make him think you were pressuring him into talking. 

And now to learn there was more… 

“Well… you know how I told you about my nephew?” You nodded, “When he died… it was right around the time I was meant to move here. The timing was so fucked. My flight had been booked for months and it was scheduled for the week after the funeral. Everything was packed and ready to go and my job was due to start only a few days after I landed in Melbourne…”

“That must’ve been so hard, Harry. I can’t imagine having to leave everyone so close to his passing.”

“It gets worse, y/n.” He shook his head, looking down at the floor. “When Harry Jr died, it really fucked me up. I already wasn’t in the best mental state because of my ex, even if I thought I was fine, and I couldn’t handle it.” You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with it. It was clear he did something, but what? “Harry Jr was like my own kid. Him and Lola were everything to me but he was just… like my twin. Lola and I were close but it didn’t compare to the bond Harry and I had. Losing him was… the worst thing that has ever happened to me and as fucked as it was and still is, I couldn’t handle it.”

Harry was starting to get worked up. His words were becoming a little shaky and you could feel how tense he became. He was holding onto you so tight and yet he was avoiding looking at you. He was scared to hear how you were going to react and he was having a hard time finding the words to explain what he had done. 

Practicing with Max did nothing to help. He had told people before and been faced with his actions for years so it wasn’t a new discussion to have. But telling you, the love of his life, how he betrayed and destroyed his family only to keep himself distanced because he was a coward was the hardest it had ever been.  

“Everyone grieves differently, Harry. It would’ve been hard for everyone.” You tried to soothe, combing through his hair. 

“I changed my flight to the day of the funeral.” He just went and said it, immediately feeling your fingers stop in his hair and how you seemed to pull your body back from his. You didn’t mean to do it, but you were a little shocked. “I spent days breaking down and feeling the most depressed I had ever been. The idea of going to that funeral and seeing the small coffin… I couldn’t do it.” He stepped back from you, running his hands through his hair. He was shaking, his throat aching with how hard he was willing away the tears. His eyes were stinging and he didn’t want to face you as he explained the rest of the story, even when you slipped off the table and whispered his name, stepping forward to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“I skipped the funeral without telling anyone and I flew here to start my new life.” He paused, swallowing thickly, “I left her, y/n. I left my only sister on the worst day of her life because I couldn’t handle it. She lost her son and I left. I left!” The words came out in an angry spit and his shoulders seemed to widen and slump forward like he was holding back immense rage. At himself. “We fought and she said she’d never forgive me again, fuck I can’t forgive myself. I don’t even want to.”

You were a little thrown off balance, to be honest. You never expected him to say any of that and to hide it from you for so long. But you couldn’t be upset either. He made a terrible mistake and you could see how badly it was eating him up. Harry was a proud person and very rarely doubted himself or his actions, yet you knew he was so ashamed in himself for what he did. It was hard to see. 

“Harry…” You tried to get him to turn around with a little squeeze of his shoulder but he shrugged it off. 

“My mum hated me, Gemma hated me, Andy hated me. Everyone hated me and I deserved it. I’ve skipped every Christmas since because I couldn’t face it and because I was a coward. I’m still a coward. I’ve sent letters and texts and tried to call her and I’ve never been able to see her face to face because I’m scared. I’ve never been able to push myself to that next step because I keep thinking it’s too late. That she’ll never forgive me.” 

You could see how devastated he was about it and how angry he was at himself. And you understood it. He had spent nearly five years away from his family, beating himself up because of a huge mistake he made. And it was huge. You weren’t going to dispel that. You weren’t even sure that if you were in Gemma’s place, you’d ever get over something like that. 

But Harry has also changed a lot. You imagined Harry Jr’s death changed him for the worse. Since the moment you met him, he always was a selfish, narcissistic person. It was never a secret that he lived his life for himself and cared about money and his job over anything else and maybe Harry Jr’s death had something to do with that. But since knowing him he’s made so many improvements to himself. He’s completely turned around to try and be an honest and good person.

The things he did for you and put himself through to protect you wouldn’t be done by just anyone. He had so much love in him and had proved that time and time again. He was attentive and caring and so generous. You were starting to think that he always was that person but was torturing himself for so long because of the mistakes he had made that it was easier to keep people at an arm's length.

After knowing him deeper though, you knew that his family meant a lot to him. He spoke to his mum at least twice a week and looked after her financially too. She was a young mum and had already been retired for nearly 10 years because of the way Harry invested his money and the success he had in all his different ventures. Being able to retire a parent when you’re barely 30 and live your own life in such an extravagant way is a massive achievement. 

Which is why you were just so shocked he hadn’t visited Gemma in person yet to try and mend things. How did it take so long for him to finally make the decision to go back to the UK and mend things with her, at least you assumed that’s why he wanted to go to her birthday. You assumed the phone call with his mum had something to do with it too. 

You weren’t really sure what to make of it or what to say. You loved him and were always going to love him and it hurt to know that he had been in a mental place so low and so far gone that he hurt his only sibling this badly. He was suffering with his own grief and unable to cope that badly that his sister, the mother of his nephew had to mourn the loss of her son and her brother all at the same time.

It was awful all around. 

“Harry. Turn around, please.” You coaxed gently, giving his shoulder another little squeeze. He inhaled a shaky breath and slowly turned around, showing you his reddened eyes and puffy nose. “Come here.” You guided, grabbing his hand to pull him towards the couch so you two could sit and talk about it properly. He remained silent while you took his hands in yours, trying to find the right words to support him. 

“What you did was wrong…” His expression seemed to fall even further, complete despair in his eyes. “But you don’t need me to tell you that.” You softened your expression, reaching up to cup his face in both hands. “You’ve been torturing yourself because of this for years and I get it. I can’t put myself in your shoes or even Gemma’s shoes because I don’t have siblings and I don’t have nieces or nephews but I understand loss and I understand family. Everyone grieves differently but the one constant in our lives is our family. I don’t think it’s too late to make up for it.”

“You don’t mean that.” He whispered, scanning your face. “Why don’t you hate me? I fucked up.” 

“You did and I won’t excuse what you did. But you were in a horrible part of your life and yeah, the right thing to do was go to the funeral, but you made your choice and you’ve lived with the consequences already. You have changed and grown so much since we started dating, Harry, and I can see the difference it’s making in your life. All you can do now is try and show Gemma you’ve changed. That you’re better.” 

Harry said nothing for a moment and swallowed the lump in his throat, “I’ve tried to go home to her for years and every time I get close, I see how happy they are without me and it stops me. There was one Summer I even made it to the front gate and saw Gemma and Lola through the window. They looked so happy. Lola was so big and Gemma looked at peace. I didn’t want to destroy that.”

“Don’t you think she’d be happier knowing she had her brother back?” You asked softly, dropping your hands from his face to grab his hands instead.

“I don’t know.” He admitted, “My mum has been trying to get me to go back for a long time, always trying to convince me that everyone missed me. That Gemma missed me. I never went because I was thinking about myself instead of her. It was easier for me to stay away than confront what I did. But I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to be that person.” 

He sounded so determined and he was. He always appreciated your honesty and you kept him accountable time and time again but you did it in a way that still supported him. You listened to him fully and offered support and advice. You didn’t act like he was a monster. He hoped that you felt like that on the inside too.

“Is that what the phone call was about? Her birthday?” 

Harry nodded. “My mum has been hounding me about it for months. When the call happened I wasn’t ready to tell you because I was scared I’d lose you. Really fucking scared. I know it upset you, baby, and I’m so sorry.” He squeezed your hands, bringing them up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. “I didn’t mean to lie. I didn’t want to. I hope I haven’t lost you because I was ashamed.”

“You haven’t.” You smiled, squeezing his hands. “You haven't. I was upset at the time, but I didn’t want to press you because you’re allowed to have things that are just yours... I knew you’d tell me when you were ready.” You reached up to cup his cheek, watching the way he nuzzled into your touch, eyes fluttering closed at the comfort he felt. “I don’t think you’re that person anymore, Harry. I think Gemma would appreciate the work you’ve put into yourself to become a better person.”

“You think so?” He whispered, scanning your face with his eyes. 

You nodded. “I think it’ll take time. I honestly don’t know how things will work out because I don’t know her, but I know you and I know you’ll do everything you can to fix things with her. You’re her brother, Harry.”

“I love you,” Harry murmured, sliding his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck to draw you in for a kiss. This wasn’t the end of this conversation by any means. You had questions and you hoped that he’d be a lot more open about his family now. This was such an intense, deep-rooted issue. If he wanted to talk about it more, which you hoped he did, it wouldn’t happen in one night. 

The kiss deepened ever so slightly, ending with a little run of his tongue against your bottom lip while he rested his forehead against yours. “Will you come with me?” 

“What? Where? To London?” You blinked, a little surprised at his sudden request. 

He nodded, tightening his hand in your hair just a little. It wasn’t to hurt you, just to feel you. “I don’t know if I can do it by myself. I want you there.”

“Harry-” you tried to interrupt, but it was like he felt your hesitation before you even said anything. 

“I can show you my hometown, my house. You can meet my mum, maybe even Gemma. I just… I don’t want to leave you. I want you to come with me.”  

This felt like something he needed to do by himself. It happened before he even knew you and was such an important step in his life. Family is family and it would almost feel like an intrusion to be there when he’d be sorting through so much history. 

“Harry…” you sighed, leaning back. “I want nothing more than to support you but I have school. I don’t know if I can take time off and I’ve still got this trip planned at the end of the year with my friends. Money wise too… it’s a lot and it’s so soon.”

“You wouldn’t have to pay for a thing, y/n. I’d never let you do that.” His voice turned lower just a touch like he was almost reprimanding you for even suggesting he’d let you pay for a single thing. “And I think it might even align with your semester break, at least some of it anyway. Even if you flew in later and met me there? We could travel. I could take you to my house in Italy.” He was trying so hard to convince you but by the look on your face, it wasn’t working. 

“It’s not just that, Harry.” You chuckled at his attempts to convince you, which actually were quite appealing. “I love you and the idea of Italy and seeing where you grew up is so… amazing but I think this is something you need to do by yourself. There is so much history there and so much you need to work through. I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to go.” 

“I want you to come.” He coaxed, pecking you quickly. God when he had that almost pouty look on his face and murmured so sweetly… you’d agree to anything. “You can do your own thing. You’ve always wanted to go to London. There’s so much to do and you can do whatever you want. As long as I get to see you at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. Have you in my bed every night.” Now the thought of that was extremely appealing. “Just think about it. Please.” 

“I’ll think about it.” You compromised, smiling softly. 

“Thank you.” He kissed you again before wrapping his arms around you to draw you into his chest. Both of you knew you had to head home, but it wasn’t the right time for you to leave. You couldn’t. 

You spent the next hour or so just wrapped in his arms, then him wrapped in yours. He opened up a little more about Gemma and his extended family and he already seemed so much more open to speak about them. You could tell this was something that weighed heavy on him for a long time. 

Archie made his way from outside at some point too, bringing in a trail of dust and leaves that broke the tension in the room and let you and Harry distract yourselves by bathing him. He had been running a muck outside the entire time, obsessively playing with a new toy Harry bought him. He was so engrossed in it, that he didn’t even know you came over. 

That was probably a good idea since you and Harry spent a lot of your time together naked. You swear Archie had PTSD from Harry’s instruction to go to his bed.

It was late by the time you peeled yourself from Harry, not wanting to leave but knowing you had to. He didn’t want you to leave either but you promised to come over before you left in the morning. He was tempted to come home with you and you had a feeling he might drive back in his own car so he could spend the night with you, or even the day before driving back in the night. 

It was times like these where you hated that your parents didn’t know about him. After learning everything, maybe it was time. 

“Hey, baby.” Your mum greeted, hugging you the moment you walked into your kitchen. 

“Hi.” You smiled, hugging her back. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, pumpkin.” He hugged you next, kissing your forehead before returning to the pot he was stirring on the stove. 

“Sorry I took forever, I was catching up with Harry then Archie ended up dragging dirt through the house so I stayed to help him clean up.” You explained, hoping she bought the excuse. There was this expression on her face that just told you she didn’t believe you, but she didn’t say anything about it so you decided to leave it and not say too much. Otherwise, she’d really know something was up if you started waffling. 

“It’s nice you two have stayed so close.” There was something about the way she focused on the word ‘close’, but she had a glass of wine in hand and always liked to read into things when she got a bit tipsy. You hoped you were just being a little paranoid. “You think he’ll give you your job back over your semester break?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I might just plan my shifts at the cafe so I can be here for a couple of days then at mine for a couple of days. I don’t want to cut my shifts at the cafe completely.”

“Mh.” She agreed, “think about it. You know I like having you around.”

“I know. I like being here too.” You smiled, “I’m going to shower and get changed quickly. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright. Don’t be too long.” She called after you. 

“I won’t!”

The night continued as it always did. Dinner, a glass of wine, an update on your week of uni and your night out with your friends (sans Harry, of course). Then Dad went to his office to do some quotes and your mum and you wound up on the couch watching The Real Housewives. Another couple glasses of wine was involved, but it was a Saturday night and you had nowhere to be tomorrow except home. 

Perfect.

Until your mum paused the show while you got up to get a snack and when you returned, she had no plans of playing it again. She had this look on her face, like she was getting ready to announce something really big or ask you an invasive question. 

It was the latter.

“Are you okay?” You asked, landing on the couch with a heavy seat. The wine slowly infused in your body, making you feel like a heavy lump of bones. You were getting to the point where one more sip of wine would knock you out and your pillow was calling your name.

“I need to ask you something.” She shifted on the couch, sitting cross legged while facing you. She still had her glass of wine in hand, eyeing it like she had a nervous tick.

“Okay…” you looked at her a little funny, taking a sip of wine. 

“Are you sleeping with Harry?” At her words, your eyes widened and the wine suddenly travelled down the wrong hole. You coughed repeatedly and Mum was quick to lean forward to tap your back until your coughing subsided. “Our neighbour, Harry.”

“Thanks for the clarification, Mum, but I only know one Harry.” You coughed, rubbing the sore spot over your chest. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Just answer the question. Is it true?”

Shit. What were you even meant to do? You didn’t want to lie about it because the truth would always come out, but you also weren’t ready to talk about it. You had this whole speech planned and all these things you wanted to say when you brought it up to her and now that she was the one asking you about it, there was nothing in your head.  

You felt bombarded by it. But maybe it was better to tell her first before your dad found out. At least this way you could explain everything and diffuse any worries so when he found out, your mum would be on your side. And you knew she would be. Or hopeful at best. Maybe not at first, but all she wanted was your happiness and if Harry made you happy, she’d support you with it.  

Your parents had always told you that they didn’t care what you did with your life as long as you were happy, healthy and safe. They’d support you if it truly was what you wanted. When they said that they were talking about work, not dating your neighbour, but it still applied. 

It would be a shock to them and you knew that, but no one was getting hurt and you were happier than you had ever been. You knew they’d understand. Eventually anyway. 

“Um…” you trailed off, looking away briefly. “Yes? But we’re not sleeping together, we’re… we’re dating.” Even though you could tell she wasn’t surprised, the look of pure disappointment on her face expressed exactly how she felt. She didn’t want you to say yes. “I was going to tell you.” You jumped in again before she replied, wanting to get as much out as possible before she gave her opinion. “I swear. I wanted to tell you and Dad both at the same time so you two wouldn’t get all weird with each other if one of you knew first.”

“Oh god, y/n!” Mum pinched the bridge of her nose. She took a heavy sip of wine before continuing like it would somehow make the news easier to bear. “I had a feeling you were going to say that. I prayed that you weren’t and yet here we are.”

“You knew? How?”

“I didn’t know, but I kind of worked it out. You've been a little giddier than usual. Always looking at your phone and you’re always going over there when you come to visit. He's been different too. Less broody and secretive and he's been getting a dogsitter for Archie for a lot more overnights than usual. Mother’s know these things, y/n. So… explain. How did it start?”

Was it seriously that obvious? When she put it like that, it kind of was obvious that you were seeing someone. She wasn't particularly upset by it, but her tone wasn't overly jovial either. She was calm. Calm was good.

Though it could've been the wine making her more relaxed.

“I guess we kind of got closer as I dogsat Archie. We’d always talk for ages and we had that weekly dinner, which you knew about. Then one day… I don’t know. Things changed.” You averted eye contact, feeling a blush graze your cheeks at the memory of the first time you two slept together. 

“You were sleeping together?” You nodded silently, knowing that she’d be able to tell if you were lying. “When?”

“What?”

“When was the first time?”

“Mum.” You protested, “you don’t need to know that.”

“I do, actually because now that I know it happened, I need to know when it started.”

“Yes but-”

“So when was the first time, y/n?”

You clearly weren't getting out of this one.

“...A few weeks before his birthday, I guess.”

“A few weeks before his birthday.” She repeated to herself, “so you were dogsitting for him and having dinner with him for weeks and what? You two were just sleeping together each time just like that? All those times you came home ‘late’, you were sleeping with him? Right next door? Have you slept with him here?”

“Mum, stop!” You whined, hating how she seemed to be spiralling about the fact you had sex. 

Her questions were practically spitfire and if you didn't stop her now, she'd continue and her questions would get way more invasive. She always was like that when she drank. Nosy and more brazen than usual. Dad always said it was because she was pretty that she got away with the way she ran her mouth when she drank.

Mum was harmless, but God if there was even a smidge of a secret hanging around she'd find out and talk about it to anyone and everyone.

She knew you weren’t a virgin and while you didn’t share every detail of your sex life, she knew you had slept with a couple of guys. You were always open and honest with her to an extent because you valued her advice, especially when your heart got involved and you ended up getting hurt. But right now you didn’t want to hear her fears or her spiralling bout the fact you had sex next door when you knew she and Dad had sex only two rooms away from you. If it were up to her, she’d know every detail about every aspect of your life.

You understood it to an extent and you practically did share everything with her. But seriously. Boundaries. 

“I love you but it’s none of your business. I don’t ask when you and dad have sex because that’s disgusting so don’t ask me!” 

“Fine. Fine. You’re right.” She let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, “Just tell me you’re still on birth control and we can move on.”

“Yes. I am.”

“Good because I swear to God, y/n, if you come home pregnant...”

“Mum!”

“I had to say it, okay? It’s my job as a mother. Now continue.”

“It wasn’t serious at first and neither-” you paused to give her a warning glance when it looked like she was going to make another comment about your sex life. She only rolled her eyes and sipped her wine again, attentively listening to you talk, “neither of us wanted a relationship and I always said to you too that it didn’t interest me but he somehow managed to change my mind about it all. He didn't mean to and he was further away from commitment than I was... but the longer it went on, the more we realised that it was more than just casual." You let out a sigh, "I didn’t want to like him mum, I didn’t. There were problems and he had problems and I knew it was stupid to fall for someone who lived his whole life single and selfish but things changed and kept changing. He changed.”

The whole time you spoke, she actively listened. She didn’t try to interrupt or even make any weird noises of indignation that your dad definitely would. She just listened and processed it. You appreciated that. 

“It wasn’t an easy beginning to our relationship because we had a lot of differences and he… he hurt me really bad. I almost told you back then too because he broke my heart. Really bad.” Your voice broke slightly, feeling that same break in your heart that you did at the very beginning.

“Y/n.” She soothed, placing her hand on yours over your knee. “You could’ve told me back then, y’know. I would’ve been there for you. I'm a little hurt you didn't trust me enough to come talk to me about this.”

“It's not about trust, mum. You know I trust you. Everything was just so complicated and I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t really think we’d get back together, anyway, so I didn’t want to start something and have you storm to his house to tell him off for no reason when I thought it was over.”

“I would’ve done that. I can still do that for you, if you want?” She smiled, sipping her wine again.

“No, don't," You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “We worked things out and… well we never looked back. Before we ended our casual relationship so badly, Harry was really complicated and secretive and God sometimes I wanted to strangle him. But when we got back together… he changed everything for me, mum. He worked on himself and is still working on himself and honestly, I’m probably the happiest I’ve ever been. He treats me so so well and he spoils me and loves me everyday and-”

“He loves you?” She interrupted, “as in you loves you.”

You nodded.

“And you love him back?”

You took an extra moment to respond to her, not really sure where she was going with her comments. “I do. I know I do.”

“y/n…” She sighed. You could feel the change in the air. How her active listening turned to disappointment and a hope that your relationship would end before it properly started. “I honestly thought that you were just dating and having fun and he was buying you nice things, but love? I have no doubt you feel that way towards him but isn’t it too soon?”

“I just know, mum. I had no control over it and I never meant for it to happen but it did and… and I’m happy. I’m so happy with him and even with the distance and everything else, we’re making it work.”

“But how? He’s not too much younger than your dad and I and he’s got no kids, has never been married? Everyone knows he’s had his fun and sleeps with whoever he wants, what’s to say he doesn’t still want that? And then there’s the opposite. What if he’s finally done with being a bachelor and wants to settle and have kids before he gets too old? Is that what you want? Because I know it’s not.” She gave you this look and crossed her arms over her chest, like she already knew what your answer would be.

She seemed to know all your answers tonight.

“Of course I don’t want that. Not now anyway. But he doesn’t want that and he doesn’t want to sleep around either.” 

“So you two haven’t spoken about settling down?” She fired back, already knowing that you had. Your mum was the best reader of people and relationships, probably because she stuck her nose in everyone's business and knew all the ways they failed.

“I mean we have but not for now. Like… just so we both know that this isn’t a short term kind of thing.”

“Y/n, baby. You are so young. So young and gorgeous and smart.” She soothed, leaning forward to cup your face and run her hands over your hair. “You have your whole life in front of you and the whole world at your fingertips. Why are you settling down with someone who’s already experienced everything? Would you not rather explore the world with someone who hasn’t seen it over and over again?”

“Mum, I can still do everything I want to do when I’m with him." You exasperated, brushing her hands off you. "I can travel and work overseas if I want and I still see my friends and do everything normal. Being in a relationship doesn’t stop that and if anything, Harry’s position makes it easier. He’s stable financially and is happy to slow down and do what I want. It’s not that he doesn’t get a say, but he’s got the freedom and wants to experience everything with me. It may not seem like it, but he’s got a lot of firsts too, mum. Trust me, I’ve thought about it all.”

“Look, I don’t know him very well.” She sighed, settling back against the couch. “He’s been living next door for nearly five years and I couldn’t even tell you what footy team he supports, but he’s always been polite and charming. All I can do is go off that and what you tell me and if you’re telling me you’re happy then… I guess I’m happy too. I just don’t want you to get hurt, y/n. By anyone.”

“I know. I don’t want that either but I promise you’ll love him like I do. You’ll see why he means so much to me. You and dad.” You smiled, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze.

“I hope so.” She smiled back, squeezing your hand in return. “So tell me more. Tell me everything.”

The next few hours were spent practically debriefing your entire relationship. You kept the bigger problems private as she simply wouldn’t understand the Ethan situation, but you told her everything else you two had been through. If it had something to do with Ethan, you twisted the story a little but for the most part, it was an amazing chat.

You loved your mum more than anything and to actually sit there and talk about Harry so freely and honestly and have her engage properly was the best feeling ever. She freely gave advice (even when you didn’t want it) but you were happy with that. You didn’t have a lot of boy problems so actually having someone to talk about with her was everything to you. It made you hopeful for the future of your relationship with Harry and took so much weight off your shoulders.

It was liberating.

“Oh god…” mum wheezed, her laughter coming to a stop as she finished off her final glass of wine for the evening. “I’m too drunk right now but in the morning we’ll brainstorm how to get back at chatty Cathy across the road. She can never ever keep her mouth shut. That woman.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Your brows furrowed and that happy, calm energy you had somehow dissipated into thin air. 

“Tracey? The only reason I asked you if you were seeing Harry was because Tracey’s been hinting at it for weeks. I thought I told you.”

“No… you didn’t.”

Your mind was suddenly twisting and turning. After everything you had been through with her and Ethan and even just the shit between you and Harry, she still wouldn’t leave you alone. You had done nothing to her and left her alone since you moved out for school and yet she still had to run her mouth off about you? You just didn’t get it. 

Harry had recordings over her admitting to lying to you and you had photos of her cheating and she knew that and still decided to try and get some attention her way? Nope. Not on your fucking watch. 

You were over it. You were over being the target of people who you had nothing to do with. Who only wanted to use you to get money or for some other stupid fucking reason that meant nothing in real life. You were done. So if she was going to run her big fat mouth about you, then you were going to do it right back and you were going to hit her where it hurt the most. Her family.

//

It was only a couple of days later when the truth came out. You weren’t trying to hide it from Harry but it also wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have over the phone. He got called into work for some client emergency on Sunday which ruined his plan to come spend the day and/or night with you. Then neither of you could see the other until Tuesday as he planned to work from home on Wednesday. 

You were glad that his quiet days seemed to align with yours because it meant you could spend more time together. Even if you were both busy working or doing uni work, just being in his presence was enough to make you happy. And now that your mum knew about you two… it was only a matter of time before you could start spending nights at his house too.

“Baby?” You heard Harry’s voice echo through your apartment, easily being heard in the shower due to your thin walls. 

“In here.” You yelled back, scrubbing your nails through your scalp to rinse out the remaining conditioner. Harry accidentally went home with your keypass after going on his morning run the last time he stayed over. He kept it in his shorts pocket so he wouldn’t wake you and it wound up in his bags somehow, hence his ability to enter your place without you needing to go downstairs and get him. He wasn’t really meant to have them, but it was only for a couple of days and Maeve had your spares so you could still get in and out easily.

“Can I come in?” He asked a moment later, knocking on the bathroom door. 

“Yeah.”

Wordlessly, he opened the door and let himself in, scanning your naked body from head to toe. You were facing the wall with your eyes closed, head tilted back so the water was streaming down your hair. Gorgeous. He had been craving you all day. It was just one of those days where it was shit after shit and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed with you and just be wrapped in your arms. 

“Can I join you?” Harry asked softly, itching to jump in the hot water with you. He was already loosening his tie. Before entering your bathroom he took off his jacket and shoes so he was ready to let the rest of his clothes fall to the ground without care. You always had showers extremely hot and now that the weather was cooling down, Harry quite liked the sauna it left behind in the bathroom. He didn’t particularly enjoy it when it was 30° outside but he never let that stop him from getting in a shower with you.

“Of course, you can.” You smiled, still facing away from him. You always felt a little vulnerable being in a shower with him. Even though he had seen your body plenty of times, there was still something so sacred and personal about getting clean. You were glad you had already washed yourself before he came in because the last thing you needed him to see was you plucking out one of your long hairs from your underarms or ass. 

“I wasn’t sure what time you’d be here.” You hummed, feeling the slide of his cold bare hands along your hips as he joined you in the shower.

“Yeah, I had to work late. ‘M sorry to keep you waiting.” He murmured, kissing your shoulder while wrapping his arms fully around you. You sighed into the touch, tilting your head back to welcome the feeling of his body around yours. He snuggled against you, proper bear-hugging you while digging his forehead into the crook of your neck. 

“It’s okay. Maeve dragged me to a late Pilates class so I had to wash my hair. I swear I sweat like two litres every time.” You laughed softly, “I would’ve waited for you. I like being at the door to greet you.”

“I like having you greet me too.” He kissed your neck softly, “did you have fun at Pilates? I haven’t been for a while.”

“I liked it. It was a beginner class so no handstands or anything like you do but I’m sore already. ” You teased, turning around slowly to face him. He kept your body close, immediately kissing you once your faces were in line. “We should go together sometime. I’ve been trying to get Jay to go but he keeps blowing me off.” You offered, immediately sensing that something was off with him. 

“I’d like that.” He murmured, pressing his lips against yours again. Harry was craving your comfort. He didn’t want to start anything or get too riled up, he just loved the warmth that spread through his chest when his mouth melted into yours. It could be a peck, a pash, a full snogging session. It didn’t matter. 

You combed your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “How was your day?”

“Shit. Just one of those days, y’know.” Harry replied, pressing your foreheads together before kissing you again. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too. Do you want to talk about it?” You slowly eased your bodies around so he was facing the water instead of you. He shook his head and let his eyes flutter closed as the hot water streamed over his head. You pushed his hair back from his face, kissing his chest. “Okay.” When Harry wanted to talk he’d willingly do so, so you weren’t going to push him. Sometimes work was just shit and you got that. He’d probably talk about it later once he decompressed and relaxed. “You want me to wash your hair?”  

A smile grew on his face at your offer and he tipped his head down to look at you. Harry loved having his hair played with and his scalp scratched. He was like a cat. Sometimes he’d just lay there with his head on your lap for hours while you played with his hair. You first found it out during sex because he liked the pain, especially when his head was between your thighs so it only made sense he’d like it out of the bedroom too. 

“You sure?”

You nodded and reached up on your tippy toes to kiss him. “Turn around.” 

He pecked your mouth gently as a thank you then turned around to face the water. Wordlessly, you grabbed your shampoo and squeezed some onto your hands, rubbing them together to emulsify before you brought them to his scalp. 

Harry moaned as you massaged his scalp, using your nails to scratch as you went. “That feels good.” 

“Good.” You hummed, happy to look at the expanse of his back. His back muscles were incredible. 

It sometimes amazed you how fit he was, but with his daily runs and intense personal training sessions he somehow managed to squeeze into his routine, it really was no wonder that he looked the way he did. He worked his ass off to be as fit as he was and to stay that way and it all paid off because his physique was better than any boy your age.

You joined him in a personal training session once and you had no doubt any of the boys you had been with in the past would fail halfway through. Would you say you participated in said session? No. You were lugged over his shoulders so he could use your weight to do squats though. 

“Are we okay?” Harry asked suddenly, voice soft. 

“Of course we are.” You replied instantly. “Why wouldn’t we be?” You continued rubbing circles on his scalp, massaging him to make it more pleasurable and relaxing. Your arms were already starting to ache a little, but it was worth it. 

“I’m just making sure.” 

“I love you, Harry. Nothing will change that.” You murmured, running your hands down from his scalp to massage his neck and over his shoulder. He echoed the sentiment, voice just audible over the water as your lips created the trail for your hands to follow; over his neck and the expanse of his shoulders, down to the middle of his back and as low as you could go without bending. 

The tension was slowly leaving his body. Tense muscles melting and relaxing, his tense shoulders slumping until he was heavy on his feet. He was completely pliant to your touch and you couldn’t wait to wrap your arms around him and cuddle in bed. Part of you even wanted to skip dinner and head straight to bed.

“Rinse it, H.” You whispered, kissing a little freckle on his back before pulling back to give him space to turn around. He started scrubbing the shampoo out while you prepared his conditioner, rubbing it through your hands so it covered all your fingers. 

“Y’know something interesting did happen today. It was quite a spectacle in the neighbourhood.” Harry mused, already feeling better just by your touch and loving words. He stayed facing towards you to catch your reaction, which was as easy to read as ever. 

“What?” You froze for a split second while reaching to thread the conditioner through his hair, already knowing exactly what he was talking about. 

“Tracey was kicked out. Unfortunately I was already on my way to work but she was crying so loud everyone on the street was watching. Apparently, he found out she was cheating on him. You know anything about that?” He had this look of knowing on his face and it was like he knew that you had something to do with it. 

Shit. 

“About that…” you smiled sheepishly, putting your hands down to let the conditioner sit in his hair. 

“I knew it!” He accused, laughing while squeezing your hips. “What did you do?”

“Okay, but you can’t be mad.” You laughed, poking his chest. “I was going to tell you tonight, okay?” 

“Mad? Why would I be mad?” His brows knitted together, “I’m sure whatever you did had good reasoning behind it.”

“Well, yeah she’s a cunt but it’s not that.” Harry laughed loudly at your comment and you could feel his mood being lifted like steam dissipating in the air. You had such a fucking mouth on you sometimes. He loved it. “When I got home after we had that talk, everything was normal until my mum and I were watching TV after dinner. She said she had to talk about something and then just flat-out asked me if you and I were sleeping together! Like it was nothing.” 

“Shit.” His eyes widened, “And what did you tell her?”

“I told her the… truth.” You were a little nervous to tell him. A lot nervous actually. You knew he was ready to tell your parents whenever you were, but it felt wrong to have that conversation without him. But you couldn’t exactly call him or go over to his house after he just told you about his nephew. That would’ve been all sorts of fucked. Your mum knowing about you two dating meant nothing compared to what he was going through. 

“You did?”

“Yes. I’m really sorry.” You rushed out. “I wanted you to know when I was going to do it but I couldn’t lie to her when she was straight out asking me the question.”

“And you thought I’d be mad?” He scoffed, laughing softly while tucking your hair behind your ear. “Baby, the only way I’d be mad is if you were pressured into doing something you weren’t ready for. Were you okay having that conversation with her? I know… I know you weren’t ready to tell your parents yet.”

“Harry she asked me because Tracey was talking shit. After everything, everything we went through and all the fucked up shit she did and she still can’t leave me alone. I’ve done nothing to her.”

That manipulative cunt. 

Harry didn’t like to use that word very often. Other than the obvious use when he was trying to degrade you. But there was simply no other word in the English language that summed up who Tracey was. Desperate? Yes. Annoying? Just the sound of her breathing had Harry gritting his teeth. But the only word that truly encompassed everything about her was cunt.

He had no idea that her being kicked out was because she was causing problems again. He assumed it had something to do with you because you were cheeky and sneaky at times, but he didn’t expect this. After everything that happened, he thought you guys were done with her. 

“What the fuck? Fucking hell, y/n. Why didn’t you tell me?” He was getting a little frustrated at you now and you could see it in his expression. You just grabbed his hair and tilted his hair back, forcing his hair back under the water to rinse the conditioner out. Even though he was annoyed you didn’t tell him, he was still pliant to your touch and it took very minimal effort to maneuver his head. 

“Because we just spoke about your family and my drama literally doesn’t matter compared to what you’re going through. I didn’t want to bother you and then I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”

“Of course it matters.” He scoffed, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit by yourself. I thought she was dealt with, but clearly not. How long have you known?”

“I found out when my mum asked me about us. I had no idea anything was happening before that.”

“So… what? Tracey’s been running her mouth?”

“Basically.” You sighed, still running your fingers through his hair to get rid of the last bits of conditioner. “She hasn’t said anything directly, but she’s been making comments and saying random things that makes people think that we’re sleeping together. At least that’s what my mum said.”

“I don’t get why she’s doing this.” He sighed, “You’ve moved out and we’ve left her alone after everything that happened. She’s got no reason to come after us again.”

“Like I said, she’s a cunt.” Your words came out matter-of-factly, eliciting a roll of Harry’s eyes. “She’s probably bored and thinks that it’s easy to use me to have her fun because I’m not there to defend myself.”

“Bullshit. I’m there to defend you. Why isn’t she scared of me?” Harry scoffed, eliciting a laugh in response.

“Harry she’s obsessed with you and even if you blackmailed her and stomped all over her old wrinkly heart, she still wants you.”

“I didn’t stomp over anything. And I’m taking your old wrinkly statement as an insult.”

“Yeah right. You love being the ripe age of 39. ‘I get sexier with age, y/n’.” You quoted, attempting to mimic his low raspy accent. He raised a brow and immediately went for your sensitive spots, squeezing your waist with light twinkling fingers in an attempt to tickle you. “Stop!” You squealed, hitting his hands away. “Stop it Harry!”

“Admit I get sexier as I age. Admit it.” He threw back, wrapping one arm around your waist while using the other to tickle you. 

“I hate you!” You tried to push his hand off, laughing and wiggling and squealing all at the same time. It didn’t help that you two were still very much naked. “Whatever. You’re sexier as you age.”

The tickling stopped instantly and Harry had this smug grin on his face, happy that he beat you. “Thank you.”

“You’re a child.” You rolled your eyes.

“Come on. Finish the story.” He laughed softly, looping his arms around your waist. 

“I don’t even know what I was up to before your ego got bruised.”

He chose to ignore that statement. “You were explaining how obsessed Tracey is with me.”

“Oh, right. She’s obsessed with you so obviously she won’t be scared and she’s not threatened by me. She really didn’t think that I’d retaliate in any way even if I told her I would and now look at her. I think I handled it pretty fucking perfectly.” You announced proudly. 

It felt a little evil to be so happy over someone elses pain. You had ruined Tracey’s life and yet you were satisfied. It felt justified. In the beginning you never wanted to use your threats against her. You just wanted to be left alone, even if that meant sitting on evidence that she was having an affair. Now though… you felt worse about keeping it a secret than using it to get back at her.

“I’d say so.” Harry laughed. “How did it all happen?”

“She goes to pilates on Sundays so I waited until she was gone and went over to speak with Oscar. All I did was tell the truth and show him one of the photos of her and Ethan. I felt really bad for him, actually. He believed me even before I showed him a photo but he still wanted to see it, probably for proof so he doesn’t have to pay her out.” 

“Well shit.” Harry laughed, quickly turning you both around so you got some of the hot water. “He clearly didn’t take it well.”

You shook your head. “No. I could tell he was trying not to cry. I feel like I should’ve told him earlier.” You looked away for a moment, “it feels wrong to use one persons tragedy to get back at someone else. Like this is probably the worst thing to ever happen to him and I used it to get back at her. He doesn’t deserve that. Neither do his kids.”

“I know. The truth had to come out some way, though. It always does. Don’t blame yourself too much for it just because you benefited from it in some way. ” He grabbed your chin gently, guiding you to look back at him. “How did your mum react when you told her about us, anyway?” 

You were glad he was switching back to your mum because you really didn’t want to dwell to much on Tracey of all people. Or the shittiness you felt. 

“She already knew before Tracey started talking about us. She had this look on her face like she was waiting for me to outright say it.” 

“Wow. Really?”

“Yeah… she said it was mother’s intuition or whatever. I’m surprised she waited this long to say something about it, to be honest. She usually can’t keep her mouth shut and she already had a glass of wine when we spoke about it.”

Harry smiled at your comment, smoothing his hands over your back. “Was she upset about it? What did she say?”

“We spoke about it for a long time. She wasn’t upset but not thrilled either. I told her how happy I am and a little bit about our relationship so far and she seemed happy that it’s going well, but she’s still worried. I think she’s worried about the age gap and… well, your reputation. She doesn’t want me to get hurt.” 

You didn’t really want to go through the entire conversation with him. Nothing bad happened but it also felt like something that just you and your mum needed to know about. She gave you a lot of advice that made you feel lucky to have someone like her in your life. She was concerned but she actually listened to you, even when the conversation went a little wild, she listened to you and shared her own opinion as well. It went as well as you could’ve hoped. 

“My reputation as in…”

“Your one night stands. Obviously, I assured her that she didn’t have to worry about it. She thinks you’re charming but I think that also scares her. You’re the first real relationship I’ve had and it’s not exactly conventional and… I don’t know.” You sighed, looking away for a moment, “She said that she hoped my first love would be someone my age, that I’d date more before feeling so strongly about someone.”

Harry didn’t like the sound of that. So far, your mum’s concerns were valid ones and ones he expected. He never thought it would be easy or something your parents would understand right away and he prepared himself for that. They weren’t much older than him so navigating his relationship with them and you would take time. 

But he didn’t like the way those words came out of your mouth. That your mum hoped your first love was someone else and that you had more experience with other people before settling down. You two weren’t exactly planning for a baby or anything, it had barely been four months, and neither of you put any expectations on your relationship. You were young and he never imagined himself as the marrying type so you both just wanted to date and love each other and see how things evolved.

But you were still in it for the long haul with each other. This wasn’t a short term arrangement or something casual. You two loved each other. 

For Harry, he had already experienced heartbreak in all forms and he had grown from that. The Harry that survived his very first love was a completely different person to now. It wasn’t the only thing that shaped him to be the man he was today, but it contributed a lot to his life. He was at a point in his life now where meeting you and falling in love with you had completely changed how he thought his life would go.

He wanted to settle down with you. He couldn’t picture a future without you in it and you made it very clear that you loved him more than anything and you wanted to have that future with him. 

But you didn’t have what Harry had. You didn’t have years of making mistakes and meeting people and exploring yourself. Of figuring out who you are and what you want in life. You can do that with a partner and Harry knew he could show you the world and provide experiences you might not have if you were by yourself, but if you took the romance and his undying love for you out of the equation, would he encourage you to give your all to him? 

If it were anyone else, he’d tell them to keep their options open and grab any opportunities given to them. Was he holding you back from that?

“Do you wish you did? Have more relationships before me?” He solemnly asked, brows knitted together while he waited your reaction. 

That was a hard question to answer. But you had no regrets in dating Harry and that’s all that mattered. “In some ways, yes. I wish I had more experience in how to navigate even being in a relationship. But mostly no. There’s no one else I’d want to share my firsts with. In a lot of ways, you’re my first everything and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.” You cupped his face, running your thumbs under his cheeks. “Loving you is the happiest I’ve ever been and hopefully now, the people we love will be part of that too.”

Harry’s gaze softened and time seemed to still around you two. Having this conversation in such a vulnerable place like a shower only added to the intimacy of it all. You had a way of knocking the air out of his lungs. It happened with a look or a sigh, your gorgeous smile. And it definitely happened when you said things like this. 

“I want to give you the world, y/n. I want to give you everything you want. You tell me and it’s yours.” He murmured, gazing deep in your eyes.

“I just want you.” You whispered, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, really.”

His eyes flickered between yours as he tipped his head forward to rest his forehead against yours. His wet hair dripped down your cheek, running down your jaw and neck, all the way until it joined the water at your feet. “I just want you too. Always.” 

You smiled and pulled his mouth down towards you, pressing your body against his to get impossibly closer to him. He wrapped his arms fully around you, squeezing you against him so every inch of your pretty soft skin melted into his. Your mouths blended into one, lips brushing together in a slow languid kiss. 

His tongue slid across your bottom lip and you freely gave him access to your mouth so he could slip in and run his tongue against yours. God, everything about it was so sexy. The steam clouding over you both, how good your wet bodies felt pressed together… the way his cock started to harden against your thigh, unable to spring up in that way you loved due to how close you two were. 

“I think…” You gasped, breaking free to run your mouth over his jaw. “You should finish your shower…” You pressed kisses in a path towards his ear, kissing his lobe once you got there before playfully tugging at it between your teeth. Harry whimpered in your ear, reaching down to squeeze your ass in both hands. “...and join me in bed.”

With that, you kissed his neck then unwrapped yourself from his arms, smirking as you slid past him to grab your towel. His hand snapped out suddenly, clasping around your wrist. “Don’t go.”

Harry looked like a starved man. His chest was heaving, cock heavy and hard between his legs and his lips all red and puffy from your kisses. You would’ve fucked him right there if shower sex didn’t scare the hell out of you. 

“I’ll get you a towel.” You blew him a little kiss, ignoring the crazed look in his eyes and walking away. Oh did you love a tease. 

It wasn’t long before Harry had you pinned to your bed, grinding his hips in slow deliberate strokes. Your entire love making was just that, making love. It was slow and deep, full of so many kisses you could barely breathe. His body was pressed heavy on top of you and he made sure you felt every inch of him that you could. Every inch of his cock, every inch of his heavy muscle and soft sweaty skin.

The window above your bed was still open, a clear view of the moon above your heads. It was a view you two decided was worth putting your pillows down by your feet when you were finished so you could lay the opposite direction and look outside. You had a nice view of the water, though it was particularly dark outside and the moon was so bright it took your entire process. 

“I still can’t believe she knows.” Harry murmured, looking up from where his head rested on your chest.

“Who?” You whispered, missing the context of his comment, “My mum?” 

“Mmh.” he nodded, looking down to where your hands were joined and resting on your stomach. “It feels… good. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like we’re moving onto the next step.”

“I feel the same. I feel better knowing she’s supportive. I had a feeling she would be, but it’s nice knowing I’ve got her on my side when we tell my dad.”

“Mmh.” He hummed in agreement, looking at the string of pearls around your neck. You put them back on after the shower and he found himself mesmerised by the way they twinkled under the moon light. “y’know I told my mum I was seeing someone. After our weekend away.”

“You did?” you frowned slightly.

“I didn’t say anything too personal or anything because we were keeping it quiet.” He assured, sensing the slight panic in your voice. “But I wanted her to know I have someone in my life who makes me happy.” 

You smiled, that slight beat of worry completely gone. “What did you tell her about me?”

“Not much. Just your name and that you’re studying. I didn’t want to show her any photos without asking you. She gets a bit excited and I knew if I sent her something she’d tell everyone about it.” He rolled his eyes, but you could tell by his tone that he loved that quality about her. Pausing, he looked from the moon to you. “I think you’d like her.”

“She sounds like my type of gal.” You grinned, “I’m excited to meet her.” 

“I think she’d cry if you said that. Happy tears of course.” 

You laughed softly, swiping your fingers through his hair. It had dried down after the shower and your activities and became all fluffy and dishevelled. You loved it in its natural state.

“Would you like to meet her?” Harry asked suddenly, his voice soft so only you could hear it. There was no one in your apartment but you yet the moment was so intimate and quiet, he didn’t want to ruin it. “We could facetime?” He looked up at you, expression hopeful for your response. 

“Harry I’d love that.” 

“Really?” His eyes widened ever so slightly, like he was surprised you’d agree. “You would?”

“Of course I would.” You assured, smiling while dancing your fingers across his jaw. “Set it up. Whenever suits her.” 

“Okay.” He grinned, reaching up to kiss you quickly before settling back down on your chest to look out at the moon, “I will.”

It felt so right and natural to take this next step. There were nerves about it, of course, and you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t scared that Anne wouldn’t like you or that you’d make a fool out of yourself. But you knew a decent amount about her and even if you didn’t, you knew you’d love her simply based off the fact you loved Harry. That was enough. 

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

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[letstrip13]

m.s - nsfw alphabet

inspired by @sturniolobsessed !!!

read the chris version here <3

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A - AFTERCARE (what are they like after sex?)

he’s so so so so sweet about it. of course he makes sure you’re okay and you have everything you need, but what he looks forward to the most are the cuddles after. he loves falling asleep skin to skin with you, his arms wrapped around your body and his face in the crook of your neck. also, he is 100% the boyfriend who will carry you to the bathroom to pee after sex if he makes you unable to walk right.

B - BODY PART (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s?)

he loves every inch of you but it would be a tough decision between your tits, your lips, and your thighs. he loves touching your tits, not even in a sexual way half the time. he just likes having them in his hands. as for your lips, he loves kissing them, loves the feeling of them trailing kisses up and down his neck, loves the way they look wrapped around his cock. + he loves having his hand on your thigh as he drives, always squeezing it or rubbing it. his favourite body parts of his are his arms and back. he loves the way you adore his tattoos, always touching them and tracing them. he loves wrapping his arms around you. as for his back, he loves the way you scratch it up during sex.

C - CUM (anything to do with cum.)

his favourite place to do it is inside you. he loves filling you up and watching it drip out of you after he pulls out.

D - DIRTY SECRET (what is a dirty secret of theirs?)

he secretly lurks on tumblr from time to time to sort of get advice on things to do/say during sex. unbeknownst to you, it does help. but he tries to keep it minimal, only doing it when he feels he's really stuck in a rut now since he doesn't want you getting suspicious of anything. but he did it more when you first started sleeping together, wanting to impress you. his tumblr days are pretty much over now but it's still hiding where he needs it just in case.

E - EXPERIENCE (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he is not one to put himself out there so his body count before you was probably zero. but like chris, he's a fast learner when it comes to pleasing you.

F - FAVOURITE POSITION (self explanatory.)

missionary because he loves being as close to you as possible and loves seeing your face. sometimes, he'll put your legs over his shoulders to get even deeper. a close second is cowgirl with his hands on your thighs or hips and your tits within easy reach for his mouth or hands.

G - GOOFY (are they serious or goofy in the moment?)

he's completely serious in the moment but will crack jokes after.

H - HAIR (how well trimmed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

same as chris, keeps it clean and trimmed but doesn't shave it all.

I - INTIMACY (how intimate are they in the moment?)

very intimate and in the moment. he loves to savour every second with you.

J - JERKING OFF (masturbation.)

he's definitely the type to have ‘accidentally’ ended up with a pair of your panties after they ‘got mixed up in the laundry.’ for the most part, he'll just go to you when he's horny so he doesn't have much use for it anyways.

K - KINKS (what kinks do they have?)

he for sure has a breeding kink with the way he loves cumming inside you and filling you up. he also has a cockwarming kink; he can never get enough of the way he stuffs you so full. he'll stay in you, perfectly still, for as long as you'll let him.

L - LOCATION (favourite place(s) to do it?)

since missionary is his favourite position, his go-to is either his or your bed. but he's always up for car sex with you.

M - MOTIVATION (what gets them going?)

kissing his neck and playing with his hair. also you matching his energy when he gets an attitude and giving him one right back just does something to him.

N - NO (things they are not open to in bed.)

like chris, he does not want you anywhere near his ass.

O - ORAL (are they good at it? do they like giving or receiving more?)

matt the munch is all that needs to be said. but he's a sucker (no pun intended) for receiving. his favourite thing is when you let him take full control, holding your hair back for you as he fucks your throat.

P - PACE (fast and rough? or slow and sensual?)

it depends but he's more of a slow and sensual kind of man. sometimes he'll mix them and fuck you rough but at a slower pace. the way he'll thrust like that drives both of you insane.

Q - QUICKIE (their opinion on quickies and how often you have them.)

he prefers to take his time with you. given a choice, he will always go the long route with lots of teasing and foreplay. but he will never say no to a quickie in his car or if he's horny before either of you need to be somewhere.

R - RISK (are they willing to take risks?)

he likes to play it safe and stay in his comfort zone but if you have ideas, he's pretty open to them.

S - STAMINA (how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

much like chris, he can go a good two or three rounds but he tries to drag it out as long as he can.

T - TOYS (do they own toys? if so, which ones?)

same as chris. he doesn't own any, but if you have a vibrator, he's more than happy to use it on you. he'll love to tease you and overstimulate you with it. maybe he might even let you try it on him just to experiment.

U - UNFAIR (do they like to tease?)

the rings, the tongue thing, the pink slutty waist shirt, the glasses, the stubble !!! he's a slut and he knows it. he teases you to no end whether it's subtle like those things or whether he's bringing you close to cumming then denying you the release over and over again.

V - VOLUME (how loud are they? do they grunt, moan, whimper, etc?)

he's quiet yet vocal if that makes sense. he does it all: groans, moans, grunts, even whimpers and whines but he's not super loud about it. unless he really can't control himself which is more often than he means to. so it's a good balance between the two.

W - WILD CARD (a random headcannon.)

his biggest sex dream/fantasy is to have you suck him off while he's driving but he won't bring it up because he's afraid of crashing.

X - X-RAY (what's going on under their clothes?)

he's like seven inches as well but not as girthy as chris is.

Y - YEARNING (how high is their sex drive?)

he gets horny a lot but he's good at hiding it until you're alone.

Z - ZZZ (how fast do they fall asleep after?)

no matter how tired he is, he will fight to stay awake until he knows you're asleep. after that, he's out like a light.

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[rafesdollette]

SABRINA CARPENTER CONCERT

PAIRING: BSF!RAFE X SWEETHEART!FEM!READER

summary: after that night in the car, as Rafe promised, he's taking you to go see Sabrina live.

a/n: per request (and cause I was already thinking of doing it), here's you and Rafey at the short n' sweet tour.

word count: 0.7k

It's been a little over two weeks since Rafe has told you he'd get you tickets and tag along on the short n' sweet tour. In those weeks, you've been in preparation. Making sure everything was planned out since this was your first concert and you wanted it to be perfect.

Preparing your outfit, constantly practicing and perfecting your makeup look, and everything in between.

Rafe thought it was pointless to get all dolled up just to be in a dark, sweaty stadium with a bunch of girls screaming lyrics at the top of their lungs. But of course, he wouldn't question it. He knew how you were. In all honesty, he kinda liked it.

And since you begged and pouted at him for a full thirty minutes, he agreed to match outfits with you from the 'Please Please Please' music video. Even though he had already agreed in his head when you asked the first time, he just liked to see you pout at him like that.

"we look good, don't you think?" you smooth your hair out, looking at the both of you in the reflection of your full length mirror as he nods and hums in agreement to your statement.

"yeah, you're definitely outshining me though" he murmurs, adjusting his belt as his eyes sweep over your outfit. That red dress looked perfect on you.

"we can both be great, Rafey."

"don't call me that." he chuckles, giving you one last look before tapping your lower back "lets get going."

After grabbing your bag and double checking that everything is in there, you both head out and set route to the arena where the concert will be held.

"we need to pregame for the concert" you connect your phone to the car, shuffling the short n' sweet album, causing an amused smirk to graze his lips "pregame? this is a concert we're talking about, not the fucking super bowl."

you shrug "Sabrina is just as important as the super bowl, if not more. at least to me."

he scoffs slightly, mumbling "Now that's some bullshit."

"hey, I said to me. And you're about to miss the turn." you point out the window to the entrance of the arena parking lot.

"Ah, right." he makes a u-turn in order to pull into the bustling parking lot, groaning once he scans the parking lot, seeing no free parking spaces in "I can't believe I let you drag me here" he mutters.

"Hey, I didn't drag you here. You insisted!"

he clicks his tongue, nodding slightly "Mm, true. Then I can't believe I insisted on this. I had no idea what I was getting myself into."

"We're not even in the arena yet. You should save the whining till then."

mocking you as he rolls his eyes, he pulls into a free parking spot and killing the ignition.

As you two get out of the car, he takes your hand as he leads you inside. Which he's been doing a lot lately in these past few weeks.

"You keep holding my hand" you point out. Not that you mind, of course. His hand feels comforting in a way.

"Don't want you getting lost. Lots of people here." Which was half the truth. Being totally honest, he wasn't sure why or how his hand kept finding yours. It just felt right, maybe.

Once you two make it inside the arena and get to your seats, he smiles as he watches your eyes remain focused on the stage, waiting for the show to start.

As the show progresses, he finds himself humming some of the songs, not at all minding being here as much as he lets on.

Once you both make it outside, his arm wraps around your shoulders as he leads you toward the car "That was pretty fun, not gonna lie."

you laugh, leaning into him "Oh, so you're a Carpenter now?"

"hey I didn't say all that. I just mean I can tolerate it now. Your voice is long gone, by the way."

you shrug "It was worth it. Plus, you'll probably make me tea or something in the morning, Rafey."

"What'd I say about calling me that?!"

[eyesofshinigami]

Boyfriend Privileges

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Just getting together, language, fluff

Prompt: For @sparklyslug "Love is letting him pick the music"

WC: 959

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 21

The rules were simple in Steve’s car. Wipe your feet before you get in. No snacks or drinks. And most importantly, don’t touch the fucking radio.

Steve is very particular about his music. He likes what he likes and he won’t hear anything about it. He likes pop music because it’s happy, it’s fun, and it gives him something mindless to sing along to when his head feels too full.

Even when the kids complain, or Robin teases him, Steve is steadfast. Whatever is playing is what’s going to play, and no one is going to be able to say anything about it. 

But then Eddie came crashing into his life like a hurricane. 

Eddie is a lot of things that Steve isn’t. He’s confident and loud, brash and unapologetic in just about everything he does. They’re also the same, sometimes; they’re both scarred, both of them just wanting to be loved, to be understood. 

Falling for Eddie was a quiet thing, for Steve. It crept up on him until one day he looked at Eddie, smiling and laughing as he and the kids were gathered around the table playing their dragons game, and he thought oh. Oh I want to be with this person for the rest of my life. 

That’s where it started, and now they’re here. It’s only been a couple of days since Eddie beat him to the punch and confessed first. They kissed, they touched, and decided that this is something they both wanted. Steve could hardly believe that Eddie wanted him back. 

They hadn’t told the kids yet; not that they were hiding it, but they were both enjoying just being together and figuring out what exactly that meant. But it’s good already, with Eddie giving him a sweet, private smile as he slides into the front seat. Steve had volunteered to pick the whole gaggle of them up from the arcade so he could bring them back to his house for a movie night. 

“Heya Stevie,” Eddie says, pulling his hair across his mouth. It’s enough to make Steve’s heart start beating fast even over the sound of the boys climbing into the backseat. “Happy to see me?”

“Always,” Steve answers honestly. Eddie’s cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink and Steve mourns the fact that he can’t leave over and kiss him. Soon, he tells himself. Once they drop the kids off, they’ll go back to Eddie’s trailer and-

“We’re burning daylight, Steve! I thought we were going to watch a movie or something!” Dustin’s voice breaks through the lovesick haze that had settled over them.

Steve grumbles and turns the car on. “Keep your shirt on, butthead. We’re going now.” That incites another bout of grumbling and arguing from the backseat. “Don’t make me regret offering you guys the chance to use the TV. Or make me consider throwing out all those snacks I bought, or sending the pizza back…” 

Eddie pretends to swoon and presses his hand to his forehead. “Oh no, please, oh gracious King of my Heart! Do not let the ramblings of the peasants cast a shadow upon your infinite kindness and patience!” He looks up at Steve with big, wide eyes that make Steve think a whole lot of other things besides the upcoming movie night. “What can this fair knight do to assuage the slight against your good name?”

“I could think of a few things,” he says, just loud enough for Eddie to hear. It makes a pretty cat-like grin break out across Eddie’s face. Oh, the things they’re going to do later…

Eddie seems to be on the same page, licking his lips as he reaches up to the radio. He pushes the button and pops the tape out, slipping in  the he’d made for Steve the night they decided they wanted to give this a go. It makes Steve’s heart skip a beat. 

It’s probably why it takes him so long to realize that the backseat has gone completely silent. No squabbling, so arguing, no nothing. Dead silent. Eddie picks up on it too, turning around in his seat to stare at them. “Did someone press the mute button? What gives?”

“You touched the radio,” comes Will’s voice from the back, sounding awed. 

“Yeah? And? Steve always lets me put music on.”

That gets a reaction. Dustin and Mike start squawking protests. “What the hell, Steve?? You never let us pick the music? You don’t even let Robin touch the radio! What are the three rules of riding in the Bimmer?” Dustin calls out.

“Wipe your feet. No snacks or food. And most importantly, don’t touch the radio,” the other boys in the back chorus together. 

Eddie turns and looks at Steve, smile getting impossibly wider. “Is that so?” 

He could deny it. He could lie and say they’re just being shitheads about it. It’d be really easy. “Yeah. Yeah it is true. But you know,” Steve stops, reaching over and grabbing Eddie’s hand to press a kiss to the back of it. His heart is pounding, but it’s worth it for the stars he sees in Eddie’s eyes. “You’re the exception to the rule.”

The backseat erupts in a whole different bout of noise, but Steve tunes it out. He’s too busy enjoying the way he and Eddie’s fingers are laced together over the console, the mixtape Eddie made for him playing in the background. 

“Does this mean you’ll let us eat in the car now?” Mike tries, sounding put out. 

Steve shakes his head. “Absolutely fucking not.” Though, he looks over at Eddie, who is still grinning like the cat who got the canary. “Except you. Boyfriend privileges and all that.”

It’s worth the noise coming from the back.

[maeby-cursed]

➴ OH, STUPID CUPID ! ♡

✧ a/n: happy valentine's, dear angels ! ♡

Toji Fushiguro doesn’t believe in Valentine’s Day.

Why would he, after all? It’s merely a capitalist ploy to keep the consumerism engines turning. You can disguise greed in glittery pink polish and white chocolate bonbons but at its core, it won't change its nature.

And so, he spends St. Valentine’s like he would any other day; gets up at dawn, works until his hands are peeled and his back aches and gets home to eat whatever he has left over. 

It’s a good routine, the most stable one he’s found for himself in years. 

He can't recall a time where the fourteenth of February meant anything at all. 

(Except for that one year that it had.)

But he won't think of withered flowers or laughing kisses or other sweets that have since rotten in his memory. A woman, a child, an apartment downtown.

That is all long gone now. The apartment downtown had gotten expensive, and the child had grown older. The woman had gone long ago and there were no more flowers or kisses or laughter.

It’s all capitalism, it’s all vapid and stupid and childish.

So, Toji Fushiguro doesn’t believe in Valentine’s Day. That is until you come along, knocking on his workshop’s door.

You’re obviously lost, mumbling an inquiry about how much you could get for selling a motorbike you keep referring to as "an old piece of garbage".

He can't help but snicker at your wording, a little chuckle that grows into a full chest laugh when he sees what you’ve dragged to his shop. It’s painfully obvious that this thing isn’t yours.

You keep holding the handlebars with careful hands, sparing few disgusted glances to the vehicle, as if its mere existence wounded you.

He asks how long you’ve had it, and where you got it, and how much you’d like to get. 

You answer back curtly: two years, your ex, nothing as long as you get rid of it.

You seem annoyed just by having to be there and for some unexplainable reason this amuses him to no end. Maybe being surrounded by car engines in a small workshop with no windows is starting to affect him.

“I’ll take it.”

You raise your gaze from the dusty headlight, shocked by his offer.

“You will?”

“Sure thing. You don’t want it, I could use some new parts, I’ll just scrap it.”

You let out a sigh, relieved, and all the tension dissipates from your shoulders.

“Oh, that… well, that would be great! Thank you.”

Your smile makes him stop in his tracks. Pretty and warm and familiar – something dangerous. His head travels back.

After a second that lasts forever, he acknowledges what you've said, grunting as his only response and getting back to the store with you in tow.

“Could I leave it with you now or…?"

“Bring it back next week, I don’t really have a place to put it right now, y’know?”

You look around the place. It’s full of buckets of paint and car parts, no decor but stacks upon stacks of metallic shelves full of objects you can’t recognize. You chuckle awkwardly, seemingly in a better mood after the compromise you've arranged.

“Right, uhm… Actually, I'm not here next week, could I come back tomorrow?”

Toji turns back to stare at you, and for the first time, really sees you. You look young, probably in your mid-twenties, of bright eyes and shiny hair, and that pretty smile that keeps fluttering over your lips. 

He hasn’t done this in a long time… But maybe…

“I close at 10pm today, why don’t you come back then?” he says, closing his fists to stop them from sweating.

Your wondering eyes freeze on him then, and your lips part slightly. He just can't stop staring.  

“But it’s Valentine’s Day. Don’t you have any plans?” you ask, shyly.

“I don’t believe in that crap.”

Shit. That wasn’t supposed to come out like that.

“Oh,” you whisper. You're still grinning up at him, but your expression has lost its warmth, instead replaced by a polite awkwardness and doubtful gaze, and now he's kicking himself in his head.

“Sorry, did that bother you?” he asks, hiding his guilt with a smirk.

“No, not at all!" You laugh, playing with your hands. "I… just, I don’t mind it, I guess.

"I know it's not even a real holiday and that it's merely a product of capitalism, and that it’s all about sales and consumerism and all of that, but… I find it nice, you know? Having a day to be with the people you love…" You look around his shop once, before giving him a shy stare. "It’s sappy, I know.” You end with a shrug, your ears flushed.

Toji doesn’t say anything for a minute, he just breathes and takes it in. 

Oh, he’s grown bitter, hasn’t he? Old and sour. 

His son is out there right now buying flowers with his friends, his coworker is on a date at a fancy place, his one and only friend is buying chocolates for his wife… And he’s here at 5pm, with his hands dirty and his neck sweaty and the prettiest woman he’s seen in a long time in front of him, with no plans for tonight and a lovely smile hidden by a familiar sort of nervousness.

What is wrong with him? Is he truly that fucking stubborn? Can't he deal with a bit of pink?

He’ll admit that he's never minded the chocolates and the roses – even if they aren’t his favorite – and that he always laughs at the cherubs and the cheesy postcards. Of course, he won't talk about how he still hums old 50s songs while he works or how he indulges in a bit of dessert when February rolls around, though.

But he knows. He's always known.

So, maybe it’s not all about the money. Maybe it’s more about being accompanied for once since he was twenty three and alone. Maybe it’s more about taking a shot at getting something good back.

Maybe it's not all capitalism, not all vapid and stupid and childish.

“Yeah… I guess it’s not all that bad.”

“I do like it… sometimes,” you finish, as if completing his train of thought. This hasn't happened to him in a long time. "I’ll be back tonight then…?”

He recovers quickly, smirking briefly before turning to clean his hands with a rag.

“Sure, at 10pm," he says, over his shoulder.

You laugh, cheerful once more, and begin walking to the door.

“It’s a date!”

And, God, he really hopes it can be, if only because it’s Valentine’s Day.

© 2024, MAEBY-CURSED — do not copy/repost/edit.

[nlleri]

warnings: established relationship, rough sex, praising, make-up sex, names — doll, sweet doll, baby, dirty talking.

[ 💌 ] — english is not my first language, so please excuse my poor grammar. enjoy!

The moment 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 lost his grasp with you, he began to hallucinate; as if you were there. But you weren't. You're probably in the club with your friends, accompanying you after the bullshit he did to you; giving you a silent treatment. Blade was so starved with your touch, the feeling of your warm lips marking his skin, your skin that he longed for long every morning, wanting you so badly.

He yearned for you until he couldn't handle without you in his arms; grabbing his car keys as he drove to your complex. Rushing himself inside of your apartment, but what are his rights to barge into someone who despise him? So he waited.

Blade rang your doorbell, awaiting for the door to open and see you again.

"𝐘𝐞𝐬?" A voice rang in his ears, snapping back to normal as he saw you, your body covered with bath towel. His eyes widened, needing to wrap his arms around your waist and smash his lips into you already.

"Oh, Blade. What made you come here?"

"I want you."

"Couldn't survive a day without me, no?"

"I want you, right now."

"And is that my concern?" You teased, about to close the door, but Blade barged in, grabbing your waist as he leaned in closer to whisper. "𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬, 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐟'𝐦𝐞.. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥."

You couldn't answer, too shocked to respond as he closed the door.. well maybe 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫. As Blade pushed you on your couch, his fingers made its way to uncover your glory body. His mouth watering from how beautiful you are. His eyes darted lower until he saw your heating and dripping region, his pant grew a tent immediately as he unbuckled his belt and kicked off his pants, leaving him on his hardened shaft. Your glinting hole watered even more, aching for it to be full of his cock. Your legs kicked, needy to be touched and be full of his brim. "Sweet doll, do you even need preparation? You're already dripping so prettily like that." Blade groaned, his aching shaft longed for your sweet velvety walls to squeeze around him; never letting go.

You let out a whimper as he inserted his tip in your hole, slowly, yet eagerly to thrust it in one go. But he had to be patient, he wouldn't want to hurt your pretty little hole and see your tears cripple down. His shaft slowly disappearing into you as he thrusted in slowly, finding the rhythm. Blade missed this, and so did you. You cried out his name as he mercilessly pounded into your dripping cunt, already so full of him you think you can't even take his load. But you have to. Blade lets out a grunt and continued to pound your pussy, his orgasm ready to snap as he threw you some praises. "𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥." , "𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐦𝐦?" , "𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫, 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐭 𝐟'𝐦𝐞.. 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤! 𝐈'𝐦 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞!"

His cock twitched inside of you, moans and whimpers only formed in your mouth, you barely can speak a word from how hazy and dizzy you are from this overwhelming pleasure you feel. You're close too, your walls clenched around him the last time as his seed painted your walls white. Your cum mixing with his in your overflowing cunt. You panted, arching your back for the last time as you collapsed in your messy couch.

"𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥."

[dilfl0v3rss]

im tryna see how ony dealed wit connie😁

nice and slow

continuation of ours

cw: m x m, ony cleaning his gun

word cound: 2.8k words

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

days have went by since ony told connie that he’d be “delt with” and he was starting to feel like he was off the hook. ony would still wake him in the morning with a kiss and he'd still act like his normal self throughout the day. "maybe he forgot" connie thought to himself as he eyed him from the other side of the living room. there he was, quietly cleaning his gun while he watched videos with his phone laid on his lap. his shirt probably on your small figure as he sat in just his pajama pants and durag. "need sum baby?" he didn't even need to move his head to know that his boyfriend was staring.

connies eyes widened a little as he continued to breathlessly stare at his lover. "when somebody say sum to you, its polite to answer." ony sucked his teeth, looking up from his phone with a pointed look that was shot directly at connie. "n-nah...nah m'good pa" a kind smile bloomed on his pink lips to sell the act that he's not panicking in his mind right now. why is he acting so normal? "shouldn't you be gettin ready right now anyways? you said you was gon drop suge off at mikasas for her lil spa day/sleepover shit."

before connie could reply, he was interrupted by your sweet voice. "m'ready papiii" you came down the steps with your duffle bag on your shoulder, letting it plop on the ground before walking to ony and giving him a kiss on the cheek. when your eyes met connie's pajama wearing figure you sucked your teeth. "babyyy why aren't you dressed. i don't wanna be late to miki's because of youuu" you whined, stomping your feet to add exaggeration.

connie gave you a stern look, making you stop instantly before getting up and grabbing his keys from his coat hung up at the door. "cut that shit out or you not going at all. ion need to be dressed if m'just dropping you off and coming back home." you shut up immediately, letting connie give you a kiss before you began walking quietly to the car while he carried your bag. "i can't get a kiss too?" ony mumbled, stopping connie dead in his tracks before he turned around. "my fault pa" he mumbled as he made his way to the couch, leaning down to give his boyfriend a kiss on the forehead.

his dick jumped in excitement when ony grabbed him by the neck and gave him a sloppy kiss on the lips. his long tongue quickly winning dominance over connies as his grip on his neck grew tighter. strings of spit connected the two as ony moved his face back to speak. "drive safe" was all he said before loosening his grip, letting connie stand up straight before he replied. "i will pa, see you" ony's focus was put back on his gun as he listened to the front door close.

the drive to mikasa's was about twenty minutes there and back, but connie made sure to drive real slow so his boyfriend didn't get a notification that he was speeding. "bye babyyyy, see you tomorrowww!" you squealed before giving your boyfriend and quick kiss and practically sprinting out the car before he could reply. he chuckled at your excited little body jumping for joy at you knocked on mikasa's door. connie waited for you to go inside before driving back home.

as he walked in the door he noticed that ony was nowhere to be seen in the living room. his gun cleaning supplies were still laid out on the table as he walked deeper into the house. connie made his way to his room where he saw ony sitting on the edge of the bed. "was looking for you. what you doin?" his dark brown eyes gave connie a bone chilling stare as he toyed with the ring on his middle finger. "waiting for you...c'mere pretty boy lemme talk to you real quick."

ony bent his fingers in a come hither motion, making his lover's body move towards him on instinct. connie stood in between ony's legs as he leaned back on the bed, inked chest on full display for his light brown eyes to ogle. "you know you still in trouble right?" connie nodded his head. he never stopped thinking about what his boyfriend had in store for him, but now he doesn't have to anymore. todays the day he gets what he's been dreading.

"listen, ian mean to-" "sh sh sh...let papa do the talking aight? you just gon get yourself into more trouble and you don't want that now, do you?" connie quickly shook his head as he watched ony rise from his seat on the bed. connie was tall, standing at about 6'2. but ony was a little taller, larger frame standing in front of him as he licked his lips before moving to the side. "take allat shit off and lay down f'me." connie slowly removed his hoodie and tee shirt before toying with the waistband of his pajama pants.

ony grew annoyed at his slow pace, grabbing him by the back of the neck before pulling his ear towards his mouth. "hurry the fuck up or ima rip it." connies hands moved quickly, pulling down his pajama pants and letting his hard dick spring free. he didn't like to sleep with underwear so his boxers were nowhere to be seen. he lied down on his back while watching ony begin to crawl up towards him, sitting in between connies legs as he ran his big hands over his chest, purposely neglecting the leaking red tip near his belly button.

"what you supposed to do when i tell you something?" ony whispered, leaning over connies body with his hand resting right by his head as his free hand played with his nipples. "im 'posed to lis...listen papa...fuck" he stuttered as the large hand wrapped around his dick. ony began slowly stroking him, occasionally rubbing his thumb over his leaking tip as connies back arched off the bed. "mhmm but you aint do that, did you? nahh, you was being greedy." his pace quickened, heat running through connies dick as he thrusted himself into ony's hand to bring his release closer.

"just like you are right now. not being my good boy." connie groaned as the frictions stopped. ony sat on his knees as he freed his dick from his pants. "y-you gon prep me right?" a fearful expression on his light brown face as he looked at his boyfriends girthy dick. ony chuckled as before sticking two of his thick fingers in connies mouth. "m'not a monster, baby." the smaller man sighed in relief as he let his tongue swirl all over his fingers. spit falling down the sides of his mouth as ony continued to thrust them in and out of his wet cavern.

as he removed his fingers from connies mouth with a pop, ony groaned at the sight in front of him. plump spit soaked lips shining in the dim light of the room as his lover lay naked in the middle of the bed. pretty ink dancing along his fit body as his dick leaked precum onto his stomach. "you so sexy baby. making me wanna skip all this shit and fuck you right now." connie didn't get the chance to reply before ony rubbed his wet middle finger on his tight hole.

wetting it before breaching it lightly with half of his middle finger. "f-fuck pa" light brown hand instantly flying towards his wrist to stop his movements. ony's eyes snapped towards connies, giving him and stern look that made a shiver run down his spine. "you know better than t'be doin that, handsome. move or ima cuff you." he slowly moved his hand away, balling them into tight fists before ony decided it was a good time to add a second finger.

spit traveling from ony's mouth down to connie's light brown hole, giving him more lubricant to move his fingers deeper. he dug into connie slowly, giving his boyfriend the time he needs to adjust. "how it feel pretty boy?" connies eyes rolled to the back of his skull, back arching as he moaned at the stretch. "hmm? talk t'me baby...can i fuck you now?" ony was always soft with connie when it came to prepping him. knowing that it is not an easy process and it could be painful if not done correctly. "y-yea daddy go head."

he smiled at the name, knowing that it was only used when his boyfriend was feeling especially vulnerable. "good boy" ony got up to grab a bottle of lube before rubbing it all over his dick, applying some to connies tight hole as well for safe measures. he watched his face closely as he sunk into him inch by inch. light brown hands gripping onto his shoulders as connie moaned from the stretch. "shhittt...fuck fuck fuck." ony started at a slow pace, stroking him deeply while leaving small kisses on the tears that fell from his eyes.

"i know bae. i hear you, but you been bad, remember?" "w-wait da lemme...auughh shi-i-ittt." his pace quickened and before connie knew it he was being pounded into the mattress. all eight inches of ony's dick being shoved in and out of his tight hole. he wrapped his hand around connies neck, other hand wrapping around his dick before jerking him quickly as he fed him hard strokes. "when i tell you t'do sum...move your fuckin hand...you gon listen. aint that right handsome?" connies wrists were now trapped by ony's big hand, arms bound over his head as he continued to take the vigorous strokes from his boyfriend.

"y-YES...i’ll listen daddy furreal." connie’s hips bucked into ony’s hand as he squeezed his dick tighter, continuing to stroke his aching red tip. connie was on the brink of his orgasm, lip tucked behind his teeth as he threw his head back in the sheets. ony felt him twitching in his hand, light sheen of sweat making his light brown chest glisten. as soon as he felt connie getting too close he let him go, pulling out as he whined for him not to stop. "wait m'right ther-" "ion care connie. turn over and put your ass up." he quickly turned around, laying his palms flat on the sheets without complaint in hopes that he'd be rewarded with at least one orgasm.

ony wasted no time thrusting back into him fully, dark brown hand shoving his inked back down as connies arms bent next to his head. "y'know how i like it baby. keep that ass in the air for me while daddy makes you feel good." his brutal pounding made tears fall from connies pretty brown eyes, wetting the sheets directly below his face along with his spit. ony kept his hand on the back of connie's pretty inked neck, pushing his face deeper into to cushion as he spoke lowly from behind him. "ion like punishing you handsome. supposed t'be my good boy so ion have t'be mean."

connies words were muffled before ony pulled him up by his neck, wrapping his hand around the front of his throat as he pulled his lover back towards his chest. "m-m'sorry daddy. ima listen t'you furreal..shit..ima d-do whatever you say" a smirk crept onto his lips at his boyfriends words, other hand sliding to the front of his body and caressing his stomach before jerking his pretty dick quickly. "anything i want?" connie nodded his head instantly as he moaned from the added pleasure. ony's pace quickened, hips slamming so hard that the loud, wet slaps could be heard from all over the house.

ony felt his orgasm approaching so he slowed his thrusts. idea popping up in his head to really teach connie his lesson. "stroke yourself pretty boy. want you t'do it real slow until daddy says you can speed up, understand." he was giving him another chance at following orders and connie hated it. but instead of defying him and getting fucked up even more, he slide ony's hand off his dick before replacing it. stroking himself slowly as his boyfriend matched his pace inside of him.

long dick kissing the deepest parts of him as hot wet tears flowed down his cheeks. "uhh huh. nice and slow" ony watched connie over his shoulder as he stroked himself at a steady pace. singing praises to connie as he obeyed the command he struggled to comply with last time. "such a good boy f'me. just a little longer and ill let you cum baby." his dark brown hand grabbed the bottom of connies face, turning him towards him before giving him a sloppy kiss. spit dribbling down the sides of both of their mouths, leaving connie breathless as he continued his slow pace with his hand. "open up handsome"

pink lips instantly parting as ony's spit slid from his tongue to connie's. "and swallow allat shit." on instinct the spit disappeared down his throat before he opened his mouth to show him that it was truly gone. "mhm good boy. you wanna cum?" moans and begs flew from connies mouth in an instant, the need for release clouding his brain as he fucked himself back on ony's dick slowly. "p-please" ony's hand replaced connies smaller one. quickly stroking him as began snapping his hips into his ass with vigor.

"gon head pretty boy. make a mess f'me" light brown eyes rolled to the back of his skull as connie's hot ropes of cum shot all over the sheets. “ooouuu fuckkk.” the last of it eventually slidding down his shaft and all over ony's hand before he felt his lover pull out of him. jerking himself as he came all over his back. "next time i tell you to do sum you better listen. or youll be right back here, understand me?"

"o-okay pa i hear you."

ony ran connie a hot bath. changing the sheets and making him some tea before having his lover come out and get dressed. "drink this and rest for the night" night? a gasp escaped from connies lips as he noticed that it was already dark outside. "y'hear me?" ony's voice snapped him out of his thoughts before he replied. "huh? yea ill rest pa."

~the next morning~

connie woke up noticing ony wasn't in bed with him. he made his way downstairs to be met with a beautiful sight before him. shirtless chest on full display as his lover drank orange juice straight from the bottle. "man that is so trifling" connie chuckled as his boyfriend jumped in surprise. moving the bottle from his lips before giving him a smirk. "i be spitting in your mouth no problem and you worried about my mouth being on the bottle?"

a blush crept on connies face, shifting his gaze in embarrassment. "that's different" "yea its worse." ony cut him off before walking past him to reclaim his seat in the living room. "suge on her way home right now to grab some shit. she gon stay over there for another night." connie nodded his head as he slowly sat down next to his boyfriend, wincing as he felt the cushion touch his ass. "fuck" ony chuckled before scooting over closer to his pouting boyfriend. "come" he patted his lap for connie to lay his head over.

connie quickly took the invitation, lying his head on his lover's lap and putting his feet on the couch to ease the pressure on his sore lower half. "good morninggggg!!" you squealed as you busted through the door, giving connie a quizzical look before smirking to yourself. "oh he fucked your shit upppp" you giggled as connie rolled his eyes at your teasing. "yea and you next if you don't shut that shit up. leave my big baby alone" you smiled lovingly at the two of them, choosing not to piss ony off before you end up like your other boyfriend. ass hurting and body worn the hell out. you grabbed what you needed before heading out the door. "love y'all! ill be home tomorrowww!!!" with that you closed the door, leaving the two of them alone again.

ony turned on the tv, putting on connie's favorite show as he played with his short hair. "if it still hurts later i can kiss it better for you pretty boy. y'know im real good wit my tongue" connies eyes widened at his boyfriends lewd words, making his stomach tingle at the thought. ony didn't even look away from the tv as he shamelessly spoke to him. he was so nasty. "maybe" connie mumbled, his lover finally looked down at him, dark brown eyes meeting his lighter ones befofe giving him a smile. "i love you" "love you more pa"

[anundyingfidelity]

WHAT IF...? — Soldier Boy/Ben (2)

Summary: Ben, now as your husband, gives up Vought for good and retires along with you far away from the spotlight and the big cities once you're pregnant with your first child. He knows better than to make the same mistakes his father did.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader

Word count: 900ish.

Warnings: none, soft Ben, OOC!Ben? idk, this is sweet.

GEN MASTERLIST! — DRABBLES MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

PART 2

1990

The way back home was tiring to say the least. You and Ben had a weekend shopping schedule. It wasn’t the best idea John had for a funny Saturday, but you could tell he enjoyed being at the mall. He was six already, full of energy, joy, and eager to discover the wonders of the world.

From the passenger seat you moved slightly just to check on your son. He was already snoring in the back seat, drooling and sleeping peacefully as if it was his own bed. The sight of him just made you smile.

“He had a great time, huh?” Ben asked, giving you a side glance. He got better at driving after you gave birth, which you were so thankful for.

“Yeah, I mean, he’d definitely pick a baseball game instead but this is good for him,” you said back. “He’s been at home too much, don’t you think?”

“Hey, it's school break! Do you really love your kid?” Ben teased with a playful smile, you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up. All I mean is that I’d just like him to have friends and talk to other kids, do the normal kindergarten stuff… That’s all.”

Ben nodded more for himself. There have been a couple of weeks already, and he was more than happy to spend time with the little brat, but he got your point. You didn’t want him to be alone and the teacher at kindergarten had told both of you John was having some trouble with making friends and socializing in general. He was shy, but smart and creative, but even the teacher had some issues when talking to him at first. John wasn’t like that at home and it hurted you just a bit.

“Probably we should call Janine and some of the parents that were there in the last parent conference, you still have their numbers. We can do something for our kids to meet outside school,” you suggested.

“I think those moms were hitting on me,” your husband said, taking a last turn on the highway before heading home. He chuckled as low as he could when you patted his arm. You got pretty jealous at the last meeting when those ladies approached him, almost swooning. Even John’s teacher looked like she’d faint anytime. “What? I’m Soldier Boy anyway.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He parked the car outside your house after an hour of driving. There were some cons of living in the outskirts of the city, but as long as his family got the calm and green life around, driving for so long was not a problem.

You took John between your arms, careful of not waking him up. He weighed more and more each year, reminding you he wasn’t a baby anymore. He was taller, a good talker at least with you and Ben, he liked seeing the squirrels in the trees that surrounded the house, and he was very, very smart.

It felt like a day ago you gave birth to him, that he started babbling nonsense, and mere seconds that he started walking little baby steps… Now, his eyes were bright blue, his hair long and blonde, his cheeks sprinkled with freckles just like his dad…

Most of his factions were just like Ben’s mother, and she was beautiful from the old pictures he’d show you before. You were happy John was like an exact copy of her, you knew how much Ben loved her and how much her death hurted for him. John was like a reincarnation of her spirit, now sleeping in your arms.

Ben started to take out the grocery bags and some other stuff you had gotten yourself from the city, most of them puzzles, board games, and teddies John picked back there. As much as you tried to get him to reason to not buy unnecessary things, he would just spoil John a lot. But you understood why he did it. He was nothing like his father, he had time to learn how to be a better man, how to manage his own feelings and slowly, teach John to be a good man, even at his young age. You felt so proud of him, watching him discharge the bags on the kitchen counter with John clinging to you, deep in slumber, his little arms now wrapped around your neck to not let go.

When finished, Ben looked at you with a soft look on his eyes. You, holding his son, was a picture he’d never grown tired of. He would hit himself to confirm it wasn’t just a beautiful dream; it was real. You and John were very real, and he was thankful for giving up the superhero shit already. This could never compare to anything Vought offered to him before; what he built in there with you was everything he ever needed.

“I’m gonna take him to his room,” you mumbled, but before you could walk up the stairs, Ben approached you.

“I’ll do,” he announced in an equally low voice.

“You sure? I don’t want him to wake up-”

“John sleeps like a trunk, trust me,” Ben said, taking the kid softly away from your arms. John immediately wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck, hiding his face on the crook of his neck. He was so exhausted after the trip.

“Right,” you nodded. “Thanks, I love you.”

Ben gave you a charming smile, one that you never could grow tired of. He leaned down to kiss your lips softly, his new and trimmed beard tickling your skin a little.

“I’ll be here in a couple of minutes to help you,” he said.

You watched him disappear on the stairs to the second floor, John deeply sleeping in his strong arms, hugging each other.

Weekend trips like this were monotonous sometimes, but it was okay because you always came back home with your boys after all.

Soldier Boy taglist:

@delaynew @k-slla @thesilmarillionblog @onlyangel-444 @mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake @jackles010378 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-spinster-witch @drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves

@believeinthefireflies95 @demodemo909

[myfictionaldreams]

Last Hope // Mafia!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Chapter 2

Summary: Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

Tags: 18+ readers only, angst, fluff, abusive brother, emotional manipulation/abuse, murder/violence, blood/injury, depression,  enemies to lovers, possessive, protective steve rogers, hurt/comfort idiots in love

A/N: ahh it’s finally here! I contemplated posting the two parts in one but its oner 19k words long so probably easier to read as two separate parts. Please enjoy!

Words: 11.2k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

To an outsider looking through the glass walls of your life, it would look to be filled with excitement, thrillful, and definitely desirable. But to you, those walls were a cage, entrapping you in danger and gut-wrenching sadness and on occasions, those feelings had nearly destroyed you but now, you welcomed them, finally being able to feel something.

From the moment you were born, you’d been surrounded by criminals. The kind of people that only cared for themselves and would kill even their best friend if it meant they could increase in the hierarchy chain. This lifestyle was the way of your family, almost like it was instinct, the only way to survive in a world full of darkness and terror.

In reality, this was simply the lie that your brother had been feeding you from childhood. As if it was completely normal for parents to mysteriously disappear one evening, leaving their entire business in the hands of their greedy son, your brother Enzo who boasted that this was the only way to survive.

Enzo was as corrupt as gangsters come, his ease with murdering coming as easy to him as breathing, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone as he gained control of the underground criminal workings in Staten Island. He prided himself on his reputation, as a dangerous man with a business to run. There were multiple companies that he had close ties to but the majority of his finances were in robberies but not the kind that had banks held at gunpoint. No, Enzo had a vast team of experts that had connections with jewellery, cars, paintings - anything that could be sold through the black market and it made him untouchable and untraceable.

Where did you come into all this? You didn’t, not in the grand scheme of the business. Enzo often liked to taunt you that you didn’t have the heart to be at his esteemed level of ruthless and you were more than happy to watch from the sidelines, even though the violence was something you’d become accustomed to, it didn’t mean that you were wanting to do it. 

Instead, you were used in other ways, Enzo mostly using you as a bargaining chip for his clients, you’d have to flirt and sweet talk your way into their lives, a couple of dates and kisses to convince them to work with your brother as if you were nothing more then a piece of pretty meat for the worthless people to use. Every single interaction made you feel sick and dirty but luckily he had not asked you to fuck anyone yet however, your brother always liked to threaten that he would sell your virginity if you ever stepped out of line.

This was the life that you survived, the belittling, the threats and feeling hardly like a person at all. To you, Enzo was hardly even your brother with the way he talked about and treated you, reminding you on a daily basis that you lived under his roof so you must live by his rules or be thrown to the streets with not even a shirt to cover your back.

So you stayed and played by his rules because this was the only life that you knew, there were no other friends or family, no money stored away in a hidden box to one day set yourself free. There was only waking up and going to sleep, and everything in between to fuel your nightmares.

The only instruction you’d been given this morning was to dress up, which meant wearing as little as possible to lure people in. This wasn’t something you particularly want to be doing any day of the week but especially as the autumnal winds were beginning to brisk.

Tonight was an important event that was both well known and yet incredibly secret, most guests having to travel for hours to arrive at the underground venue. It was known as the ‘Pick-Me-Up’ event, weapons were banned upon entry and it gave goers the opportunity to meet other criminals, mafia members etc and hold business meetings, all under the disguise of a party. The concept alone caused a thick lump to lodge in your throat upon every swallow as silent nerves teetered your emotions, being around that many powerful people, it was your idea of hell.

Not for your brother though, in fact, he had been extremely nonchalant about the situation, stating: “It should be me that they’re scared of”. This was one thing you could not fault Enzo on, was his egotistical self-confidence, the man thought and believed he was untouchable. At least for this once, you weren’t instructed to flirt or speak to any of the attendees, you were only going to look pretty and draw attention to the gang.

The bass of the music vibrated deep into your bones before you even stepped into the main room of the venue, the air thick due to the number of people, sweat already gathering across your skimpily dressed body. You’d tried to stay close to Enzo and his bodyguards but with the busy crowd, your brother was able to slip away to the meeting rooms without a care for your safety, leaving you to the hungry wolves.

Not risking stopping your stride, you kept walking and pushing your way past the men and women, too frightened to look up. An empty spot at the bar caught your eye and with rushed steps, you allowed yourself a moment to catch your breath and held your body close to the counter. The space you were in was small and everyone seemed to tower over you, especially the guy sitting to your right at the bar, but you didn’t pay him or anybody any attention as you leaned further over the bar, catching the barman's attention.

“Glass of tap water, please”. You contemplated having a glass of whatever was their cheapest alcohol but realised that Enzo had rushed off without giving you any money so free tap water it was. Maybe it was a good idea to have a clear mind when surrounded by so many people.

There was a commotion next to your left side, a couple of boisterous men talking so loudly that you could easily identify what they were saying over the music. As the barman handed over your glass filled with water, one of the arguing men bashed into your arm, causing you to squeeze into the large body to your right, some of your drink spilling from the abrupt movement.

“Hey asshole, watch the lady!” the tall man stood and shoved the guy over your shoulder, instantly giving you some space as you tried to fix your posture.

“Who the fuck do you think-”, the guy who had caused all of the commotion had turned to shout at whoever had pushed him but seeing who it was, the words died in his throat. “Sor…sorry”, he mumbled an apology before the group moved away, giving you even more freedom to move.

Your heart seemed to stop however, even the music seemed quieter as fear pulsed through your body, seeing who had been standing next to you and who had just pushed someone away from you, now understanding the scared reaction.

Steve Rogers didn’t need any introductions, everyone on the East Side knew of the Rogers Mafia leader.

The gang were renowned for being ferocious, heartless and vicious and ruled over the entire Brooklyn area. You’d never even been in the same room as him before, only noticing him from files that Enzo had shown you on who to look out for when attending these events, who not to piss off and who to sweet talk, Steve Rogers was definitely someone not to piss off.

He was breathtakingly handsome, something that only made him more dangerous, his blonde hair that curled around his ears, piercing ocean-blue eyes that darkened around the iris and his hulking form that screamed power and strength.

Steve Rogers was formidable and he was staring down at you, saying something that you couldn’t hear over the panicked buzzing in your ears—a couple of seconds passed as you held the glass of water tighter to your chest, finally relaxing enough to hear what he was asking.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes… thank you”. Without wasting any further time, you rushed off in a different direction, pushing harder against the throng of people, wanting to get away as fast as you could, not caring where you ended up. The entire time, you could feel him watching you, even risking a glance over your shoulder to see that he had fully turned his body in your direction and was watching you leave with a curious expression.

Your feet stumbled quicker in your haste to find somewhere else to be, but every room seemed to be busy and locked. Eventually, there were some stairs hidden behind a gate that no one seemed to be trespassing which meant: calm and peace. Climbing the stairs, the music quietening with each step upwards, the only sound is your heavy breathing, heels clicking against the floor and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

The stairs led up to the roof and you sighed happily at the fresh, crisp air that cooled your heated skin. Relief flooded your emotions as you walked further onto the empty rooftop, stopping when you reached the ledge that was tall enough that you could lean on it. Placing your glass onto the ridge, you admired the beautiful sight of the city and night sky.

Moments like these were the ones you craved every day, the dreams that you could imagine looking up towards the sparkling stars, dreaming that you were anywhere else with a different family and a better life. It was your crutch, these moments of escape, the small spark of hope that you wished one day would blossom into reality.

You were never sure how much time slipped away when you had these daydreams but as the fire escape door opened, you knew a significant amount had passed by the chill sweeping over your body now.

Your spine straightened as you turned to see who had found your hidden corner of the party and the dread that had encompassed you downstairs returned full force as Steve Rogers stepped outside, hands in his pockets, closing his eyes and savouring the cool air, much like you had.

He hadn’t noticed your presence at first and for a moment you hoped that he would move to the other side of the roof so that you could escape the way that you came but you were never that lucky as his blue eyes snapped to yours, shock evident on his face finding someone else up here. “Sorry, I didn’t think anyone else was up here”.

“That’s ok... I can go”, your voice didn’t sound anywhere near as confident as his. Quickly picking up your glass, you began to leave but he held out a hand, a small smile on his handsome face.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to go. You were here first anyway but there’s plenty of space up for the two of us”.

Now you felt inclined to stay, not wanting to look rude, especially to the most powerful man in the state so you nodded your head once and returned to looking out over the city. From the corner of your eye, you could see Steve approaching closer, stopping a few feet away and resting his forearms against the ledge. You were hyperaware of everything, the way you couldn’t slow your breathing rate down and the slight tremble in your hands, it was hard to remain calm.

Steve glanced over, eyes flicking over your form as you pretended like you weren’t watching from the corner of your eye. “I’m Steve”, he introduced himself, voice deep and yet oddly calming, matching the serene setting.

“I know”, your automatic response caused your to wince at the rudeness and brash tone you hadn’t meant to use. You’d been in rooms with dangerous men your entire life and had to flirt with many of them to get what your brother wanted, you needed to try and regain some sort of control. “Sorry, I mean… I think everyone knows who you are. I’m Y/N.” For a second you contemplated mentioning who your brother was so that he knew who you’d arrived with but for some reason, couldn’t admit to it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N”, Steve responded, sounding surprisingly genuine before looking back over the city. “Beautiful view, I much prefer being up here than being locked in a tight room full of bozos”.

The seriousness in his voice had a laugh bubbling in your chest at realising you weren’t the only one to feel like this party was utter hell. Looking up towards the night sky, admiring the twinkles you agreed, “It is beautiful”.

Feeling eyes on your face, you looked towards Steve, seeing that he was watching you with an interested expression before it turned to one of confusion, eyebrows frowning slightly as his head tilted, asking, “Have we met before?”

Now it was your turn to be confused, “No I don’t think so. I think I would remember your face”. Your cheeks immediately burned at your unfiltered response, not meaning for it to sound like you were flirting but with the smirk that formed on his face, you knew that was exactly how it sounded to him. It wasn’t like what you said was wrong, he was handsome.

Steve thankfully brushed over the comment much to your embarrassment, “I definitely feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before”. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, his eyes continued to asses your face which only made you feel more self-conscious under his watchful gaze and then his eyes brightened to match the grin spreading across his face, “Cake Bakes, right? You order cinnamon buns?”

Your jaw slackened with shock as he spoke the name of your local bakery that you visited like clockwork every Thursday. Was he following you? Was all of this an elaborate plan to get you by yourself and take you, hostage?

Steve realised how bizarre his comment must have sounded and held up his hands, showing his empty palms in defence, “Oh shit, sorry that sounded weirder than it was supposed to. I promise I’m not stalking you, quite the opposite actually I uh… I’m in there most days to refresh our bakery stocks at the office and see you quite a lot”.

The blonde Mafia leader was of course downplaying the way in which he saw you at the bakery so as to not freak you out any further than you already were. You’d been the mysterious cinnamon bun girl that he had soon become addicted to seeing even just a glimpse of your pretty face, and if he was lucky then a smile as you accepted the baked goods. Even going as far as to volunteer himself to collect the food every week so that he might see you, even though he could easily find someone else to do the job for him. He was also highly aware of how much of a creep it would seem if he approached you one day so always admired from afar and with his job, it wasn’t like he could walk up to random women and ask them on dates when he was the most prolific mobster in Brooklyn. But seeing you here now, he couldn’t help but say something, almost like his body took over before he could think any of it through and seeing you all dressed up, it took him a good while to realise the scantily-dressed woman standing before him was his precious cinnamon bun girl.

You were frowning, trying to think about all the times you’d been into Cake Bakes, surely you would notice if a dangerous man was in there enough times to recognise you? Think, think think….

A clear image popped into your mind, a smile slipping over your features as you looked up at him, “black baseball hat, and sunglasses right?”, referring to the man that was always waiting for orders in the corner of the shop.

“Guilty”, Steve grinned sheepishly, stepping closer and angling his body more towards yours from where he still leaned his weight casually against the side.

Now you were unable to hold back that laugh that shook your body, hand resting on your stomach as it ached with how much you laughed, a sight that Steve became instantly addicted to. Finally, you were able to find some composure to say, “Good disguise, I’ve never clocked on to the fact that the infamous Steve Rogers had a sweet tooth”.

“Well, can’t have my reputation ruined now, could I?”

You genuinely smiled at him, wondering if you should reveal this next piece of information but unable to hold your tongue, “You do know that they call you the Muffin Man in there after you leave? They never understand how one person can carry so many baked goods”.

Steve’s cheeks actually bloomed with a tint of rose as he attempted to hide a smile, looking at his feet in a rare show of embarrassment, “should have guessed that the Muffin Man written on the receipt wasn’t the name of the baker”.

You laughed again before picking up your water and taking a sip, finally calming enough by hiding your face behind the glass. You couldn’t believe it as it dawned on you that… you were actually laughing with Steve fucking Rogers and his presence didn’t make you want to rip your skin off from feeling dirty, it was actually quite nice even though there were still warning bells alarming at the back of your consciousness.

The two of you remained in natural silence, still admiring the view which Steve admitted to himself was definitely you but he tried not to look for too long, knowing he could be addicted to trying to mesmerise your face to memory.

His curiosity got the better of him though as he asked subtly, “Isn’t there someone looking for you downstairs?”

You tried and failed to not choke on your drink, coughing a few times before shaking your head, “No, I’m here with my brother but he’s in some meetings”.

A frown crossed over Steve’s face, “meetings? So he’s got to be pretty important to be invited to those”.

You shrugged, looking down at your feet, “Enzo’s a busy guy I guess”.

“Enzo… as in Staten Island Enzo?” Steve asked, shocked when you were nodding to his question. “Hmm”, Steve pondered, glancing over his shoulder at the empty rooftop before looking back down at you, “where are your bodyguards? Enzo’s a pretty big deal from what I’ve heard, I’m sure there's a big target on his back with people looking for him, which by association means they are looking for you too”.

You didn’t dare look up, every word that Steve spoke was true and you had to try and think hard for a professional way of answering, instead of simply revealing that Enzo just didn’t care for your safety. “I managed to sneak away from security in the crowd, needed a moment of peace to myself”, the lie dripped from your tongue relatively easily and you made sure to look up at him even though looking into his eyes made your heart beat quicken.

Steve didn’t believe your excuse, noting the fact that you were always by yourself when visiting Cake Bakes and if he noticed you then he was sure others would. “They must be some shitty guards if you’re able to sneak away from them. I think you’d have some good competition if you tried to sneak away from my guards Bucky or Sam”.

Those two names you’d also heard of before, but it seemed that everyone involved within the Rogers Mafia were highly trained and feared individuals.

A shiver shook through your body as another blast of ice-cold wind stroked over your exposed body parts, causing goosebumps to lay over your skin. Steve noticed your chill, “do you want to head back inside before you catch your death out here?”

You didn’t miss the way in which he leaned his body closer to yours so that his arm gently pressed against you and impulsively you inclined into his warmth. Shaking your head, you answered honestly, “I’d much rather prefer to be a bit cold out here than in that hell hole downstairs”.

Steve agreed with a slow nod of the head and didn’t waste another second before shrugging off his navy jacket and placing it gently over your shoulders. Before you could decline, your body instantly felt relieved at the unnaturally warm material, and when his aftershave that stained the jacket wafted into your senses, your mouth watered.

Your heart was pounding for another reason now as you accepted the jacket, pulling it close around your frame, softly thanking him with a smile that reached your eyes. What was going on?, you thought as you assessed the situation. Of course, it could all be an act on Steve’s part but he hadn’t even known you were related to Enzo when he found you so wasn’t being nice for the sake of getting into the gang but then, why were the rumours about Steve so volatile and nasty because the man standing next to you now, willing to bare the cold and genuinely asking you questions was not the man you thought he would be.

Now it was your turn to be curious, facing your body fully towards him now, “Why are you up here? I would have thought that the most sought-after leader would be in meetings all night?”

“Ah, Buck’s taking one for the team and doing them for me. I’ve been in enough bullshit meetings for a lifetime and would it be cheesy to say I preferred the company up here and in no rush to return?”

You giggled, actually giggled as your cheeks warmed, “Yes I would say that was a little cheesy you smooth talker”.

The conversation came easy for the two of you, it felt like with each word he spoke, you were desperate to ask more, see the genuine reactions on his face as you held the joinings of his jacket together, it felt like a comforting cocoon, a safe space.

Those words seemed to taunt your conscious thoughts. A safe space. You’d never felt that way before, never had someone ask questions and be interested in your life. You’d never even had someone offer a jacket before to save you from the chill, it was all building that small spark of hope that you had been wishing for.

Once more the time seemed to pass without a care in the world, even as your feet began to ache from standing in the heels you’d picked, you still wanted to stay with Steve. But reality had to ruin the little sanctuary as Steve’s phone began to buzz with a text that he read quickly and his joy seeped away before your very eyes.

“All the meetings are over”.

“Shit”, you whispered in disdain, realising that you needed to go back downstairs to find your brother. Steve offered his hand out in front of you to allow you to lead the way and you both moved in the direction that you’d arrived and down the stairs.

The music thumped louder with each descent of the stairs as the party was still in full force and most likely to continue into the early hours of the morning. As you pushed your way through the crowds with Steve behind you, his hand on your lower back to help your way through but all you could think about was how big and hot it felt, even through the clothes.

Finally, you spotted Enzo and his gang members, lounging in a booth next to the speakers, drinking beer and definitely not looking for you.

Steve leaned down so you could hear but once again, with the close proximity, all you were able to concentrate on was seeing his face this close-up and trying to take in every detail that you could, “If you get into any trouble and those shitty guards can’t look after you, you can always come and find me, sweetheart”.

Usually, you loathed pet names but coming from his full lips, you couldn’t help but smile up at him, watching as he turned and left to find his own people, not before checking over his shoulder a few times to see you still watching, a smirk playing on his lips at this thought.

As Steve disappeared into the crowd, you finally felt your feet become unglued from the floor and moved to join your brother who was watching with a fire lit in his eyes that you’d never seen before.

It was only as you sat next to him did you realise that you were still wearing Steve’s jacket and you couldn’t deny that you probably still had time to run and find him to give it back, but instead wanted to be selfish and keep this comforting material for a little while longer, deciding you could find him at the end of the party.

“What?”, you finally asked as Enzo still hadn’t looked away.

A devilish grin stretched across his face as he nodded in the direction that Steve left, “he’s your next target”, he casually revealed.

“Wh-what?” you stuttered, feeling like ice had been doused over you.

“I need a meeting with him and he’s notorious for not accepting them, but I’ve got some dealings in his area, something that he's inserted himself in so you are going to use your assets like you have been with him all night, and get me my meeting”.

There was no use arguing as Enzo turned away from you, effectively cutting off your conversation with a dismissal. You felt deflated and sick at the mission given to you. Steve had been kind and clearly hated these sorts of functions and now you were expected to betray the little trust that you’d both formed, flirt with him more just to ask for a meeting with Enzo? You hated this, hated that this was your life and even more, detested your brother more than anyone for ruining the hopeful spark that had formed.

Over the next few days, you’d been going out of your way to ignore Enzo and his dreadful request however eventually his patience ran out as he forced you to sit in a chair and swear that you’d continue with the plan. You agreed but only due to the little threatening of the gleaming knife pressed against your throat.

Enzo had increasingly become more aggressive with his threats the older you were and the more reluctant you were to go through with the orders. So with no other option, you began to make a plan, cursing yourself for not asking for Steve’s phone number on the rooftop but at least there was one place that knew he would be, on Thursday, like clockwork.

The smell of the baked goods wafted down the street and had your stomach growling in anticipation for your treat, momentarily distracting you from the plan you were reluctantly going through with. Opening the door and hearing the tinny bell ring upon entry, even if you hadn’t wanted to, your eyes searched the seating area and straight away spotted the hulking form, with his hat and glasses, sitting up straighter in his chair as he also looked you over.

Biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning, you approached the cake display, casually chatting with the store owners who prepared your order without asking what you’d like. At one point, you risked a glance over your shoulder and saw that Steve was very much still watching you, his head tilted in wonder.

“Thank you”, you accepted your order and finally moved towards Steve who was sitting at a table for two, a different spot as he was usually in the corner leaning against the shop window. He must have been hoping that you would be joining too. “Hi”, you spoke softly, suddenly full of nerves but not because of the plan, but because you were actually excited to see him which was a foreign sensation for you.

“I still can’t believe that your brother lets you walk around without a bodyguard”, Steve spoke lowly so no one could overhear, a teasing smile seen beneath his shades.

“And I still can’t believe your disguise has worked for so long”, was your sassed response as you sat in the spare seat, resting your hands on the table.

Steve subtly adjusted his hat, pulling it lower over his face to hide his grin which only made yours widen, a bubbling feeling in your stomach due to making him smile, knowing that you wanted to make him do it again.

“How was the rest of the party?”, Steve changed the subject, clasping his hands together and leaning across the table until he was only inches away from touching where your hands lay and you had to refrain from reaching for him. Even from beneath his shades, you could see his eyes searching across your face.

“I tried to find you again to return your jacket to you, but you were gone”.

Steve sat back in his chair, contemplating your words but then his posture showed slight hints of arrogance as his legs spread and his arm rested on the back of the chair, “looked better on you anyway, sweetheart”.

There he goes with the pet names again that had your pulse fluttering with excitement. And was he actually flirting with you? 

“Are you flirting with me?”, you asked with a coy smile.

“Yes, is it working?” he answered confidently.

“Maybe”, you had to turn your face towards the Cakes Bakes staff to try and hide your smile and warmed face, you noticed that they were all watching the two of you with excitement, pretending to go back to work after being caught. You guessed it must have been weird that two of their most popular customers, who were always there but never spoke were now sitting at a table and chatting like close friends. 

Steve continued speaking referring to the jacket, snapping your attention back to him, “It’s fine, you can always give it back to me tonight”.

The excitement you’d been experiencing instantly ceased to exist due to having to give the jacket back. In all honesty, maybe it was slightly odd but you had found some weird comfort in his jacket, particularly the aftershave that lingered in the material. Frequently you found yourself breathing deeply from it, savouring the scents and letting the memories of the one night of happiness you’d seemed to experience.

“Oh right, yeah, of course,  I can get someone to drop it off or-”

Steve quickly cut you off, leaning close once more as his voice lowered, “You’ve misunderstood me, Baby, you can give it back to me when I take you out to dinner tonight”.

“Ah…right”, you say in shock, letting his words tumble through your mind before not bothering to hide your smile, “there you go with the smooth-talking again Steve”.

His Adam’s apple visibly bobbed as he swallowed harshly, huskily saying, “I like it when you say my name”.

Your eyes snapped to his lips, feeling yourself becoming more heated as you stared, your imagination getting the better of you with where those lips could touch and tease and…

“Your orders ready!”, one of the workers shouted to Steve, breaking the thickening tension between the two of you.

Both of you stood as he collected his stack of boxes from the counter, thanking the workers and you politely held the door open for you. “You never answered my question by the way”, Steve stated as you both stood in the middle of the bath, looking to leave in different directions.

“Well, it hardly seemed like a question and more a statement but regardless, yes I would love to go to dinner with you”.

Steve grinned now, showing off his perfectly white teeth, “Thank god. Do you know the new restaurant three blocks over? How about I book us a table for 7? I’d offer to pick you up but I’m assuming your brother wouldn’t like me knowing his home address with our line of jobs”.

This made sense and you couldn’t help but bounce on your toes a little bit with excitement, holding the bag with your cinnamon bun tightly in your grip, “That sounds great! See you at 7 Steve”.

You turned to walk away, mostly to hide your over-the-top grin, realising it was probably too much but after a few steps, you heard Steve shout to you, “I’ll be counting down the seconds!”

You faced back towards him to see him grinning and walking backwards, before stopping next to a large black SUV that you hadn’t noticed was parked there with Bucky in the driving seat. Steve climbed into the car and you couldn’t hear what was said but by the shit-eating grin on Bucky’s face, whatever he had said was a tease as he was harshly shoved against the driver’s door.

Holy shit. You were actually going for a dinner date with Steve. But then… wasn’t this supposed to be your plan all along, to get him in a romantic setting and sweet talk your way into getting your brother a meeting? However, every second you were with Steve, the gang, your job, and your brother never once came to your mind, it was like your vision only zoned in on the Rogers leader and couldn’t see or think about anything else.

You were definitely becoming way too attracted and attached to him, that much was for sure but for once, you didn’t let these emotions scare you off, even though you knew everything would crash and burn one day, you were enjoying the here and now too much to even care. If this ended up destroying you then so be it.

Enzo was ecstatic when you revealed that you had a date with Steve, and even offered to have someone drive you there before you needed to ask. Naturally, he still had something to complain about as he saw the beautifully flowing dress that you were wearing, not satisfied that you weren’t showing enough skin but thankfully he didn’t make you change.

Staring at yourself in the mirror for far too long, you had decided to go for this look rather than your usual skin-exposed to sell your assets dress because you actually wanted to make a nice first impression. Also, the restaurant that was booked looked fancy so didn’t need more attention drawn to you when you arrived looking like a woman of the night.

Reluctantly, you bought his jacket, it wasn’t your property but the comfort you found in it, you didn’t want to return it, even though the scent on it was starting the fade to the smell of your own natural body scent instead.

You couldn’t deny your nerves, hands clammy and stomach twisting and turning with anticipation of seeing him again but that was soon replaced with excitement and almost…content, at seeing Steve outside of the restaurant, waiting for you.

“Do you need picking up?” your driver asked and you instantly said no, knowing that if he picked you up, this meant you had a limit as to how late you could be with Steve. Exiting the car, and shutting the door behind you, Steve’s eyes lit up and sparkled as he approached you, but he failed to hide the disapproved look he gave the car as it began to drive away.

“They don’t open the door for you either?” he asked, referring to your gang member driver. You shook your head, thinking ‘Were they supposed to?’ but didn’t vocalise this as you took in Steve’s appearance. He looked good, so fucking good in fact that your core clenched with arousal at seeing his obviously expensive white suit that had buttons lacing the front, a striped brown tie to match his leather shoes. “You look breathtaking”, Steve’s compliment snapped you out of your appreciative stare.

Looking up at his handsome face, you realised he was doing his own oggle at what you were wearing, your skin burned with excitement, feeling giddy as Steve finally offered his elbow for you to take. The way he looked at you, it was like he was in awe of you, rather than the usual hungry look that would make you cower from the other people you had to go on dates with.

Holding his jacket in one hand and placing your hand in the crook of his arm and letting him lead the way in. You’d never been treated this well, having doors held open for you, allowing you to lead the way through the tables to your seat which was then pushed in by Steve, it felt like you were in a movie even though in reality, these gentlemanly acts were the bare minimum in perspective.

The restaurant was stunning, it wasn’t overly full of other customers, and everything had an air of money, expensive decorations, and friendly staff, it was perfect. Your table was near the back of the restaurant, in the most quiet area giving some sort of privacy from prying eyes that all seemed to notice Steve as he walked through.

You were beaming and had to take a large drink of water to try and hide your expression, forcing yourself to calm down before Steve ran away from your overexaggerate happiness. However, as you looked over at him, watching as he undid the few buttons of his jacket, his own expression may have been calm, trying to uphold his tough exterior but, as he rested his hands on the table, you noticed that he was wringing his hands together slightly, the only sign that he was nervous which only made you smile more.

“You are looking very handsome, did you get Bucky to comb your hair?”, you joked, trying to ease the tension in your shoulders by not filtering what you wanted to say.

Steve looked to the side and chuckled, shaking his head, “Just because he’s my second-in-command, doesn’t mean that we spend every second together”.

“Are you sure about that? You guys work together, you’re best friends, he drives you everywhere you go, and I’m sure he’s waiting outside for you right now”. Steve’s eyes locked onto yours as he genuinely smiled, the gleam reaching his eyes.

“Firstly, he’s only waiting outside because he’s doing his job as my bodyguard and secondly… you may have a point but no he didn’t comb my hair”. You bite your lip, holding back the giggle with the thought of two gangsters combing each other's hair in their spare time. 

The waiter then approached and took both of your orders, returning with some fancy wine you’d never even heard of before but the alcohol helped to ease the initial nerves.

You and Steve stayed until closing and the night quickly replaced the rooftop as your favourite night of your life. Both of you didn’t even seem to blink as you held eye contact like you were scared that if you looked away, the other would disappear.

You had also never spoken so much about your life, ever before. Steve continuously asked questions and was genuinely interested, even if there weren’t many exciting things to tell him. He would continuously compliment you and at one point, after the empty plates were taken away, your hands accidentally touched on top of the table as you both simultaneously reached for your drinks but then they just stayed there, holding hands. His palms and fingertips were rough from training and there were small scars littering his knuckles but the sheer size of them dwarfed your own.

It was an odd sensation to feel so at ease with someone, especially someone so dangerous. Sure, the rumours were there for a reason, he had to be the top gangster by doing dangerous and violent acts but the way he was looking at you like you were the only one to make him smile before.

Not only this but you were surprised by just how willing he was to open up about his life when you were wanting to find out everything you could. Steve talked about his childhood, how he was quite an unwell kid, meeting Bucky and they both joined the army in their early adulthood, much to Bucky’s dismay with how ill Steve was. Then the most surprising information was when Steve’s voice quieted, glanced around so no one would overhear.

Steve and Bucky had been a part of experiments that seemed to change their DNA which caused them to be the bulky forms that they were now, with enhanced stamina, strength, and vision, everything seemed to be to an exaggerated level. It was almost unbelievable to listen to, but then he showed you a picture of him as a 20-year old and he was tiny, scrawny and ill-looking, nothing like the towering, healthy, muscular man that was sitting across the table from you now.

Steve was open and honest about everything, even though he didn’t know why he was so willing to tell the sister of his potential enemy about facts regarding his gang, but once he started he couldn’t stop. Like he wanted to share more of himself to be closer to you in some way and break down the Mafia leader wall that he automatically had around himself at all times.

“I think the servers are waiting for us to leave”,  Steve whispered as he peaked over your shoulder. Turning in your chair, you saw that all the other tables were empty and the waiters were sitting together having completed all the other work. How long had it even been? You could talk to Steve all night if you could.

Steve paid with a significant tip for everyone and placed a steady hand on your lower back as you both walked towards the exit. He had offered to have Bucky take you home but you decided that maybe a taxi would be better, still needing to keep some anonymity at your brother's home.

“You don’t have to wait with me”, you stared up at Steve as he stood close enough that you could feel his warmth, much like on the rooftop, maybe his heat was a side effect of the experiments he’d gone through. Steve didn’t answer your question, instead giving a deadpan look before looking at what you still held in your arms - his jacket.

The pit in your stomach returned as you reluctantly began to hand over his jacket but Steve held up a finger to wait as he began to pull off his white blazer. He noticed how much you found comfort in the navy jacket so gave you his white one, took the navy one from your grip and shrugged it on. “Gives me an excuse to see you again”, Steve commented as you held his white blazer close, he had to refrain from groaning as the navy jacket smelt like you, his cock twitching in his pants with how much he wanted to wake up to that smell every morning.

“Is it weird to say I wish this night wouldn’t end?” your voice was timid as you asked him, becoming slightly nervous as you stared at your shoes. Steve’s brown leather shoes moved closer to yours, the tips just brushing together with how close he now stood. One of his fingers slid underneath your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him.

You gazed at him, seeing his cheeks were slightly flushed again, lips parted and shining from where he had recently run his tongue along them, his captivating eyes half-lidded and for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you and what scared you a little was that you desperately wanted him to.

Steve wanted to kiss you, he had since before he knew who you truly were but for now, he instead tilted your head to the side and gently kissed your cheek, his finger slipping ever so slightly over your jaw as you seemed to forget how to breathe.

“Thank you for today, for showing me that there’s more to this world than just work, that there is some hope”, Steve admitted, his breath tickling your ear.

Now you definitely didn’t want the night to end and wished that you could reciprocate his words of affection but you panicked as the taxi pulled up next to you both. “Can I have your number?”

“I thought I was going to have to beg”, he was joking but the thought seemed to unlock something in your lonely, virgin brain and instantly had to rub your thighs together as tension built. Luckily Steve didn’t notice as he pulled out his phone from his back pocket, handing it to you to type your number into and then text it, your phone vibrating a second later with a text reading: ‘Tell me you’re mine”.

Your eyes were ablaze as you snapped your attention up to him but he was leaning over to open your taxi door, offering a hand to help you into the back seat. He even helped you to do your seatbelt, making sure you were safe before leaning into the car, “when can I see you again?” you asked, hopefully.

“I’ll cancel any plans if it means I get to see you, text me when you miss me and I’ll come running”, Steve inched forward and kissed your temple slowly, breathing in your smell one last time before standing back and shutting the door. The taxi began driving as you numbly said your address, eyes not leaving Steve’s as the car began to roll away until you could no longer see the blonde man anymore.

You felt overwhelmingly sad, an exaggerated feeling for someone who had only been on one date with the man but his attentiveness, made you feel like you were the only person in the room. Never in your life had you experienced someone caring for you or showing any sort of affection that didn’t leave you feeling used.

Your life was lonely and Steve was reminding you that this wasn’t how it was supposed to be so without losing your courage that suddenly flooded your heart, you pulled up Steve’s last text, reading the word ‘mine’ over and over again and decided to send him one make.

‘I’m yours’.

Arriving into the driveway of Enzo’s home, did it then click that you hadn’t in fact asked for the meeting. The one thing you actually had gone to do, you hadn’t done, Enzo not even crossing your mind throughout the entire night. You’d hoped that maybe he was asleep and then you could text Steve maybe, even though you weren’t sure what you’d say.

Your luck seemed to run out however as Enzo was waiting with anticipation for your return, not even giving you a second to take your shoes off before gripping your arm and dragging you to his office.

You couldn’t lie, not when there was so much expected from this meeting and if you said that Steve said yes and when you eventually were able to meet with him and he said no, Enzo’s reaction would be devastating.

When your brother lost his temper, he usually liked to take his anger out on objects around you, his office walls having to be replastered multiple times from where his fist had left holes. But recently, like the day before, he began to let his anger out on you by resting his knife against your throat with the threat to press harder.

However today, he didn’t remove his knife from its sheath and instead slammed your body into the wall with his hand around your neck, cutting off your airways. A loud buzzing filled your ears as you struggled to escape, you couldn’t even hear his words of anger, not until he threw you to the floor where you desperately gasped for air which was difficult as you tried not to hyperventilate.

“So what are you going to do, huh? TELL ME!” Enzo screamed and you cringed away from where he stood over you.

“I’ll- I’ll text him to meet tomorrow and I can ask him then, it’ll be better to ask in person”, your voice shook as the tears began flowing down your cheeks.

“Well go on then!”

Reaching into your pocket, your fingers trembled violently as you tried to type to Steve, heart pounding with anxiety. ‘Could we meet tomorrow? I’m not sure if I’m sounding too eager but I’d love to replay the favour and buy you lunch if you’re free?’

As you were waiting for a response, you massaged the skin of your neck as Enzo poured himself a heft glass of whiskey, drinking it all in a few gulps before pouring another one. As he was halfway through his second glass, Steve responded.

‘I meant what I said, I’m always free if it means I get to see you. I was just about to ask you for brunch tomorrow so great minds think alike and you aren’t repaying any favours, I want to treat you. Let me know where to pick you up, baby girl’.

You would have sheepishly grinned at his text but the realisation of actually having to portray his trust set in and you instead felt numb. After informing Enzo, he stormed off to god-knows-where, leaving you to crawl back to your bedroom and cry enough that your eyes were sore and swollen.

You didn’t want Steve to feel like you were just using him to get a meeting for your brother, but it was inevitable that as soon as you asked, the whirlwind of excitement and hope would soon extinguish.

You’d arranged to have Steve pick you up outside of Cakes Bakes at 11:30 the next day. To say you were exhausted was an understatement, you had only slept for an hour and that was only because you had cried for so long that you’d passed out. Your body and emotions felt drained, scared of Enzo, and worried about seeing Steve, it was a complete difference to how you were feeling 24 hours ago.

As you were only going for a late lunch, you decided to wear a simple dress that ended mid-thigh, the fabric was soft giving you space to breathe and not feel restricted. You also made sure to style your make-up so that it wasn’t obvious that your under eyes were swollen, even if the whites of your eyes were slightly red, you could always put that off to the cool weather making your eyes water.

You stared at his white jacket for far too long, thinking whether or not to bring it, but a selfish part of your mind decided to leave it on your bed, if Steve never wanted to see you again after today, then at least you could have this as a memory.

Taking a deep breath as you saw Steve’s SUV pull up to the curb, you allowed yourself to feel somewhat excited as he grinned at you, climbing out of the car to sweetly kiss your cheek. “God, you look amazing”.

“Thank you, so do you, are you always this dressed up?” You asked, surprised that your voice sounded so confident with how awful you felt inside but you did want to know the answer to your question. Steve was dressed in a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons undone and black pants that shaped perfectly over his sculptured ass… ok wait you needed to not be so quick to stare as he held the car door open for you.

“I need to keep up appearances, don’t I?” he cockily responded with a smirk that made you flush with excitement. As Steve closed your door and began walking around the car to get back into the driver's side, another voice from behind you made you scream.

“Hey, I’m Bucky, it’s nice to finally meet you!” Turning in your chair, fast enough to make you dizzy you were greeted with a gloved hand, extended for you to shake and the owner of that hand grinning hard enough to show the dimples in his cheeks.

With one hand, you grabbed your chest feeling your pounding heart beneath, not having expected anyone else to be in the car, and with the other hand, accept Bucky’s handshake, the hand within the glove feeling solid but Steve had already explained that he had a metal arm due to an incident in the army. “Hi, I’m Y/N”.

“Sorry”, Steve apologised as he shut his door, “I should have warned you he was here. I told him I was going to grab some food and he insisted that needed to come with me”, Steve growled the last part in annoyance.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, “I’m just doing my job Boss”, but you could tell by the hint of mischief in his eyes that he came to snoop. “Anyway, I’m like a shadow, you won’t even know I’m here”, he readjusted in his seat, getting comfortable as he looked between you and Steve.

“It’s fine,  I know you both come as a pair, you were all Steve could talk about yesterday”, you teased Steve.

“Oh really? And it’s Steve is it? Already on a first-name basis I see”, Bucky eyed you with contemplation and his comment sparked your interest. He’d introduced himself as Steve, was it unusual for him to do so? You looked towards the blonde for answers but he looked ready to punch Bucky in the face for saying too much but he quickly changed the subject.

“So what do you want to eat?” Steve asked, turning on the car.

You all decided on Subway and rather than eating in the car, the boys suggested going back to the office to eat in the comfort of Steve’s office. You agreed, happy to go wherever they wanted but with the realisation that they felt comfortable enough to show the location of Steve’s office and welcomed as a friend rather than a sister of an enemy gang, you suddenly felt nauseous. 

There were lots of people everywhere who all smiled and waved at Steve and Bucky, but also remained respectful towards their boss, it was a much nicer dynamic to have than the one you grew up around. The three of you rode up the escalator to Steve’s office, it seemed Bucky was going to be eating with you too but you didn’t mind, he was easy to be around and just as gentlemanly as Steve, holding doors open and carrying your food for you.

Steve sat behind his giant oakwood desk, as you and Bucky sat in two guest chairs facing him, food wrappers in laps as you all ate and casually chatted. But even with how at ease Steve and Bucky made you feel as you forced the food into your mouth, you couldn’t help but feel sick, and empty.

“Everything ok?” Steve asked as he noticed your eyes hadn’t wandered away from the spot on the floor and since the run-in at Cakes Bakes two days ago, you never seemed to look away from his face, he missed your eyes.

Looking up, swallowing far too quickly, you plastered a fake smile on your face, hoping it reached your eyes, “Yeah I’m fine! Sorry my mind is a little all over the place”.

Steve frowned slightly, placing his half-eaten sandwich on the desk, “I haven’t made you uncomfortable coming here, have I?”

“No, you haven't, I promise, in fact, this is making me feel a little better, even with your shadow over here blatantly gate-crashing our date”, you joked, pointing your thumb at Bucky who grinned with a mouthful of food that made you giggle again.

Steve didn’t seem convinced by your excuse though, as he questioned, “So there is something wrong for you to feel better now we are here?”

You couldn’t hold his intense stare anymore and glanced at your lap, willing your mind to work and think of an excuse, ANY excuse, “I’m just tired, I’m fine, it’s nothing”.

Steve watched you try and suppress your emotions and contemplated a few facts. Over the few days that he had been getting to know you and allowing his own obsession to play out with wanting to be with you like you were his own personal drug. There was one topic, one person that had yet to be discussed so reluctantly he asked, “Is this about your brother?”

Steve assumed that maybe Enzo had found out about Steve taking his sister on a few dates and was being an overprotective sibling and maybe the two of you had a disagreement but as he saw tears pooling in your eyes and your bottom lip beginning to wobble, he didn’t care what had caused it, there was absolutely no way he was going to let someone upset you.

You were overwhelmingly stressed, realising it was now or never and nodded your head to answer Steve’s question. Both men seemed to gravitate towards you as your emotions began to spiral, Steve kneeling directly in front of you and Bucky to your left, removing your sandwich from your lap to give Steve room to reach for your hands.

“You’re going to hate me”, you admitted to him, sighing sadly as he stroked his thumb against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, you aren’t capable of doing anything severe enough to make me hate you”, Steve tried to comfort.

“You’ve only known me for a few days”, you pointed out quietly.

Steve tilted your face up to his so you could see the sincerity in his eyes, “Yes, but I’d like to think I’m able to read people well and sweetheart, you don’t have a malicious bone in your body”.

“You won’t be saying that after this, you don’t know what I’ve done”.

Taking a deep breath that did next to nothing to settle your nerves, your hands remained in Steve’s as you began to explain what was happening. How for years you had been used as a bargaining chip for Enzo, flirting with customers of his to get what he wanted and after meeting on the rooftop, Enzo had demanded that you do the same with Steve to try and get a meeting for him.

“But then every time we’ve been together, I forgot about Enzo, about his mission for me and every time I go home, he’s there, expecting me to have arranged things for him but then I haven’t and he’s mad. But then, every time we are together and the closer we get, I realise how much I don’t want to lose whatever it is that’s between us but that only makes it worse when I inevitably have to ask if you could please meet with Enzo?”

Steve’s eyes harden the longer you talked, and for a moment you expected the anger to be directed at you but his thumb continued to draw idle circles on the back of your hand as he questioned, “Does Enzo have anger issues?”

“Doesn’t everyone in this job?” you answered honestly, finding his thumb movements relaxing as you looked down at where they lay in your lap.

“Not for people you love”, Steve’s voice was calm as he spoke, sounding sincere but you could hear the rage behind his words and by the way his jaw clenched.

“Did he hurt you?” Bucky asked with icy rage. The tension in the room seemed to shift as both men waited with bated breath for your answer and for a minute you contemplated telling them the truth but if something happened to Enzo, what would happen to you? Where would you go?

So you shook your head, no. Hoping that they believed you as more tears flowed. “I didn’t want you to think I was like everyone else, that I was just using you to benefit the gang”.

Steve’s eyebrows unfurrowed as he shifted closer on his knees, “Don’t cry baby,”, he quickly wiped away your tears again, “your reaction is proof enough that you held no malicious intent behind our meetings, and that you are nothing like your brother. You’ve had plenty of opportunity to ask for this bullshit meeting and only when pushed into a corner have you asked”.

You took a few steading breaths, full of unbelieveable relief that caused the tension to ease in your chest. “I hate seeing you sad and knowing that someone’s made you feel this way. You should feel safe, I mean, are you even safe living at home with him?” There was hesitation in Steve’s voice like the answer would change everything.

“I think I’m safe, he needs me too much”, your answer wasn’t necessarily a lie as such, but the increasing violence didn’t need to be discussed.

“If you’re ever not safe, you know you can always come to me, don’t you? No one would be able to get within 2 feet of you with me around, I promise you”. 

You stared deep into his eyes, seeing them full of honesty and genuine care, and it wasn’t something you wanted to run towards, that safety net that he was offering to you.

The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift as you couldn’t blink or even force air into your lungs as Steve’s eyes captivated you. At some point, Bucky took this moment to step away, understanding that you both needed some time alone and as the office door clicked closed, the restraint both you and Steve had been holding onto shattered.

The two of you met in the middle, your body flying out of the chair, arms going around his neck as he cradled your hips, pulling you to the floor, knees pressed against him and his mouth lowered to yours. The kiss was bruising and full of desperation on both parts, wanting to be as close as possible, head tilting one way to the other, lips moving frantically needing to taste each other.

As your tongue teased his bottom lip, Steve seemed to lose some restraint as his whole body shivered, a deep groan coming from the back of his throat as his large arms wrapped around your body and he easily swapped your positions so that he now sat in the chair and you were straddling his lap. Your dress rose higher up your thighs as they burned from the stretch over his muscular thighs, your hips wanting to grind down against him however, this was unknown territory for you, but you could definitely feel the hardening lump that brushed against your thighs with his peaking arousal. Even though this wasn’t your first kiss, that was as far as your experience went.

Steve’s hands stroked up your back as he sighed with content, his tongue daring to dip into your mouth and both of your groaned as yours touched his. Your fingers were doing their own exploring, from the hard muscles of his shoulders, up to the surprisingly soft whisps of hair behind his ears, a strong contrast to the rough facial hair that was rubbing against your cheeks.

You wanted more, needed more of him and for a moment, you were ready to give it to him, but as Steve’s mouth began to kiss along your jaw, you had the sudden urge to tell him, “I’m a virgin”.

Steve pulled back immediately, hands moving to rest on your hips as his glazed-over eyes searched your face, “sorry, we don’t have to do anything that’ll make you uncomfortable-”

You swiftly cut off his chivalrous speech by attaching your mouth back to his in a longing kiss, taking your time to pull back and rest your forehead against his. “That’s not what I meant, I want to do this with you more than you could ever know but I also don’t want the first time to be in a small leather chair”.

Steve grinned, pecking your lips one more time before nuzzling into your neck, “I don’t want that for you either, sweetheart. I just want you to be happy”. Your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest as you held him tighter.

“I’m happy when I’m with you, I’ve never felt like this with anyone before, like I’m actually safe when you’re around.”

“That’s because you are safe, I’ll always keep you safe”. Steve pulled back so that he could look into your eyes, stroking a hand across your cheek, “I don’t want you going back to where he is, without me there, what if something happens”.

“Nothing will happen, and I’ll always come back to you”.

“Will you call me if anything does happen? Or if I give you a call, if you don’t answer by the second ring, I’ll know something is wrong and I’ll come to find you.”

Nodding your head you agreed to his terms, you were always by your phone so was pretty simple to answer unless something was wrong. “What do you want me to tell him about this meeting?”

“Tell him I can do it today, I need to see that coward's face.” Your nerves began to surface again and so Steve tenderly kissed your cheek, as your lips were slightly swollen from the make-out session. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to your brother if you don’t want me to, you’re my priority through all of this”.

Your stomach bubbled with an unknown feeling as you admitted, “I’ve never been someone's priority before”.

Steve’s eyes saddened, “I hate that it’s taken you this long to feel justified and that you matter”. Your fingers stroked across his cheek, following the direction of his hair in soft motions and you could tell he was nervous for his next statement. “During the meeting, you’re going to see a side of me that you might not recognise but, I need to be the boss if it's the boss he wants to see so bad that he’s willing to use you to get to me”.

“I know”, you say, leaning your head on his shoulders, and relaxing into his embrace and you realised that this was probably the first intimate hug you’d ever received and it felt so good and right.

“I just need you to remember this version of me, the one that wants to protect you and keep you safe”.

“I’m not scared of any version of you Steve. The boss or the one that I’m seeing now.”

He kissed your temple, “I really want to fucking kill your brother for making you cry”, he admitted, his words full of aggression, not matching the soft touches that he was providing.

“To be honest, I hardly even see him as my brother, I haven’t for a while so let’s call him Enzo and pretend that he’s not”.

Steve nodded his head and continued to hold you for a little while longer but then eventually shifted, “Go and call Enzo, I think it’s time I meet him properly”.

[miniwheat77]

Desperate. (Soap x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, unprotected p in v sex, car sex, Johnny being desperate ;), this was an ask, you can find that here. Sorry if I missed any! This was kinda short and sweet.

Not edited.

Soap could see the way you kept tugging your dress down uncomfortably. He couldn’t help but smile.

The both of you had met in the military and had been dating for quite some time, and somehow in all of that time, he’d never taken you out on a proper date. Which led him to now. You were dressed up, as well as him. But you weren’t used to wearing what you had on and seemed uncomfortable. “Are you going to survive, lass?”

“Probably not.” You whine. “Why’d we have to get all dressed up again?” You ask. He smiles. That typical Johnny smile that was sure to give you butterflies. “Because. I’ve never taken you on a proper date.” He smiles. One of his hands rests on the steering wheel and the other is on top of your thigh. “It’s just so cruel of me to not show off such a pretty girl.” He winks. Earning an eye roll from you. “You’re so sappy.” You smile.

He pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant he’s bringing you. The both of you noticing how full it is. Which means he has to park way off where there’s no street lamps. Only darkness. He pulls into a parking spot, complaining.

When he gets out, he rushes around to your side, opening your door for you. You can’t help but smile. “Such a gentleman.” You giggle. “Cmon, take my hand darling. Don’t need you tripping over anything.” He nods. Leading you through the darkness into the restaurant. About an hour later, you’ve already finished your dinner. You’re working on a glass of wine, talking about your day.

It’s when he knows his love for you is bone deep.

Seeing you talking about everything. When you smile and talk about everything you love. When you’re telling a funny story and the tiny wrinkles by your eyes form when you’re smiling so wide. He’s always interested in what you have to say. He could sit and listen to you talk until the end of time. Johnny’s love for you has extended further than he ever thought possible. You’ve changed everything about him for the better and it seems to only get better.

“I think I’ve talked enough. How was your day Johnny?” You smile. “No, keep talking.” He nods. You laugh, looking down. “Cmon, I could listen to you talk for hours lass. Don’t let me stop you.” He rests his chin on his fist. His stubble is a tad bit grown out. His mohawk is overgrown. It’s because he’s been off work for a while. He’ll have you help him shave it before he goes back. You roll your eyes at him.

“Do you remember when we first started talking?” He asks.

You tilt your head. “What do you mean?“

“I mean.. when Price put us on watch together and we became friends.”

“Of course, how could I forget.” You look down. Blushing. “God. You always look so beautiful. Covered in blood and dirt. Still a complete goddess.”

You smile, looking down. Johnny can’t help but adjust the way he’s sitting. He’s getting hard. He just can’t help himself around you. You’re so pretty and so sweet. He stands up from the opposite side of the booth your in, scooting in next to you. “Cold?” You laugh. Feeling his hand on your thigh. “No. Just wanted to be closer to you.” He smiles. Sending you a wink as his hand slides up further. Feeling you jump under his touch, knee slamming into the table. Drawing eyes in your direction. He laughs at you. “Jesus-“ you gasp. “A warning.” You blush. Settles your wine glass. Your body stiffens as his hand moves higher. “Sorry, just keep thinking about it. Up in that watch tower. The first time we..” he trails off.

Your brows are brought together, eyes shut as he circles your clit with his fingers. “J-Johnny- people will see.” You whine. Your voice is so low he barely hears it. “Let them.” He mumbles. Without another warning, he’s circling two fingers into your opening.

Your panties are pushed to the side, if the restaurant wasn’t so loud you’re sure everyone could hear how wet he’s made you. You grip the table hard. Knuckles white with how hard you’re holding on. You’re trying to hold still. “Can I get you two anything else? Dessert maybe?” The waiter asks. “Oh no. Just the check lad. Thank you.” Johnny smiles. Not missing a single beat as he fingers you. You smile at the waiter, trying to lead on that everything is completely normal and that your boyfriend isn’t scissoring his fingers into your pussy under the table. You push your hips to the edge of the seat. Johnny tortures you, keeping the same painfully slow pace as the waiter brings back the check, takes his card, and brings back a ticket for him to sign. “You both have a great night.”

“You too.” Johnny smiles. Once he’s gone, Johnny turns to you. Lips brushing over your ear. “Can feel you tightening around my fingers. Cum for me.” He licks his lips. You grit your teeth hard, body shaking hard as you reach your peak lowering your head to rest on your arm, muffling your cries with your arm. He can’t help but smile at what he’s done to you. How easily you’ve turned to a mess just from the slightest touch from him. He lowers himself to you again. “Come on.” He breathes. He slides his fingers out of you, earning a gasp from your lips. You can’t muffle it.

You hurry out, cheeks burning. You follow behind him. “Cheap move you pulled back there MacTavish. When we get home you’re so-“

Johnny ripping open the back door of his car and pushing you inside cuts you off, gasping out. He pushes you in further, sliding in behind you. Slamming the door shut and locking it with the key fob. “Can’t wait until we get home. I need you now.” He breathes. He kisses you hard, pushing your dress up over your hips. He pulls away to attack your neck and you can’t help but give into him. “F-fuck. What’s gotten into you?” You smile.

“You. All fucking you.” He growls. “So fucking stunning, you drive me mad.” He glides his tongue over your jugular vein, feeling it throb with every pump of your heart. He doesn’t even take any of his own clothes off. Sliding his cock right through his slacks and lining himself up with your entrance. You’re letting out a chocked gasp when he glides through your folds. Bottoming out, filling you up to the hilt. “Fuck- John.” You cry. He wastes no time pulling his hips back, thrusting into you.

“Johnny- what if someone sees?” He laughs menacingly.

“What? You think that’ll stop me?” He shakes his head. Taking thrust after thrust into your sweet pussy. You clutch the front seats desperately. You’ve never seen him so riled up before.

“You just.. you’re so fucking beautiful. Everything you do is amazing a-and perfect.” He whines. “You’re so fucking amazing and what the hell you see in someone like me I’ll never understand.” He grits his teeth. “I hope you’re kidding- ah!” You cry out. Tilting your head back. “You’re so amazing Johnny. You’re so loving and caring.” You hiss as you feel the knot building in your stomach. “You’d do anything for those you love.” You pause. Forcing him to look at you. “And god you make me feel so good.” You laugh, seeing that cocky smile at his lips.

“You make me feel good too, so good.” He shakes his head. He lowers himself down into you further. It’s cramped in the back seat but you could care less. More focused on the way his veiny cock glides perfectly against your walls. “Lift your legs more.” He breathes. You listen to him immediately, unsure of what he wants. “Arch your back just a little bit for me darling.” He mumbles.

When you do it, you understand. He thrusts right up against that spongy spot inside of you, and you can’t help the cry that leaves your lips. “Got it.” He chuckles. He keeps a steady pace. Being sure to thrust right there, right into that spot. He knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows what makes you feel good. You’re everything to him, no matter what. Knowing your body in such intimate ways is just a bonus. He slows his thrusts, staring you down as he does. Seeing the way you start to squirm. He lowers his hand, running his fingertip along the expanse of your clit. Feeling you shiver beneath him. “Got to slow down, I’ll cum to soon.” He blushes. “Don’t care Johnny, so close.” You whine. Wiggling your hips slightly. “Please.” You mewl. “I’ll cum too soon.” He breathes. “Don’t care- please. Please Johnny.” You whine.

He grits his teeth. “Fuck it.” He shakes his head. His final thrusts are brutal. Slamming into you with such intensity that you slide up the seat further. Stopping yourself with your hands. You’re rubbing desperate circles over your clit, crying out with each thrust he takes into you. You’re close, right there.

“I-I’m gonna cum.” He hisses. He’s panting, each getting more and more desperate as he reaches his peak. “Fuck- fuck. Ugh!” He cries out. Burying himself into you to the hilt, your eyes widening as he fills you full. The coil built in your belly snaps from the warmth of him, feeling him throb so hard against your walls. You’re gone, sobbing as you reach your high. Johnny rubs your clit through your high, until you’re shoving his hand away. You tighten around him, each throb of your pussy making him jump. You both take a second to relax. Breathing hard.

“Fuck… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut our date so short.” He laughs. Sitting up. “Think it went perfect to me.” You blush. He laughs. “Cmon, let’s go home. We’ll find something else to do to make the night better.”

You laugh.

“I don’t think this might can get any better, MacTavish.”

[popatochisssp]

Are any of your boys interested in/good at singing? I was listening to Nightwish’s Phantom of the Opera the other day and couldn’t help but think that Pyre would love an opera metal rendition of this musical

Ooh, singing, that's a good one! 👀

Sans (Undertale): He has a lovely singing voice, practically made for slow, sweet ballads…but he’s entirely too private and awkward to ever really use it. He might sing once or twice, just for you, but there can’t be anybody else around to risk hearing and he might need to be drunk to be convinced. Like really, truly, very drunk… Please, no recordings.

Papyrus (Undertale): He’s got the voice and the confidence, he’ll sing at the drop of a hat! If he has any flaws at all, it’s that he only has one volume setting on his singing voice, and it’s: LOUD. Full-on theater-kid ‘project for the people in the balconies’ belting it out, which is very fun and great for sing-alongs, but lends itself slightly less well to wooing endeavors. Alas!

Sky (Underswap Sans): He doesn’t mind singing and he’s got a good voice for it, plus a good grasp of melody and tempo, but he definitely prefers singing as a group activity rather than a solo one. Singing along to songs with friends at concerts and parties and even in the car is what he likes the most. Other times, the most he’ll do is just hum tunes that get stuck in his head.

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): Too shy and self-critical for singing, which is a shame because his voice is actually very nice. You might catch him humming absently to himself sometimes but he won’t know how to respond to any compliments or encouragement to do more. He might get a bit less embarrassed the more comfortable he is with you, but don’t rush him—fighting the good fight against lifelong anxiety takes time.

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Nah, he doesn’t sing…is what he says, but he’ll sing a different tune—literally—if you get him a little drunk first. Not a lot drunk, just enough to loosen the inhibitions, is all. He’ll rarely do anything more than sing along with any music that’s already playing, but his deep, raspy drawl lends itself really well to rock and country and the genres in between.

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): He doesn’t sing, it’s unbecoming. Yes, he knows all the lyrics to way more musicals and emo bands’ songs than you would ever expect, but that doesn’t mean anything! …He actually has an incredible singing range and sounds good at any volume, from scream-singing all the way down to gentle serenading, but he’s sensitive to criticism and it holds him back.

Mal (Swapfell Sans): Doesn’t usually sing, but good at it when he does—he’s good at everything, or so he says. In this case, he’s right, he has a deep, pleasant voice and good control over it to sound exactly how he wants to. It generally doesn’t come up, but he’ll sing to woo you…or to win a bet or otherwise prove some kind of point.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): Probably not at the point confidence-wise where he can do it sober, but immediately willing to sing for you if you ask when he’s not. His voice lends itself best to love songs, the more heartfelt and deeply yearning the better, but he’s nothing if not a crowd-pleaser, so he’ll take requests if he knows what you want to hear.

Slate (Horrortale Sans): He has an excellent voice, plenty deep and lots of room in his chest for it to reverberate in, but he’s still pretty self-conscious about it. He’s prone to humming more, rarely anything specific, just pleasant tunes that pop in and out of his head…but he’ll sing for you, if you stay still in his arms long enough to hear it.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): A good singer, and he’s even managed to learn volume control, which is…both a blessing and a curse. He has a harder time now than he used to singing loudly, and his control tends to slip around the higher registers, so he’s prone to the occasional embarrassing warble or flat note. A little shy about that, but it won’t stop him from singing altogether.

Ash (Undergloom Sans): Has a nice voice for singing but not a robust one. A fair amount of vocal longevity, but not a lot of power, which results in someone who can sing for (or with) you for a good long while, but not very loudly or with any special flair. Still, that’s plenty to croon to you in dulcet tones when you’re alone, in romantic moments. Is any more than that necessary?

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): Sing? Him? Oh, no, he couldn’t… or well, he will if other people are singing but not…by himself, that he couldn’t do. His voice is pleasant but probably nothing to write home about, best suited for the humble stage of his own home, humming happy tunes while he goes about his chores and hobbies. He’s such a malewife house-husband that it borders on cliché, but it’s his ecological niche.

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): Nah. He’d love to, but his least-favorite injury being what it is, any sound he tries to funnel any further up than his neck…hurts. A lot. So no singing for him. He still likes music, though, and sometimes it’s an interesting challenge to try and sign along with what the artist is singing (if he’s not too busy head-banging). His version of singing, he’d guess.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): What exactly about him gave the impression that he might sing? He’d like to correct it immediately, though he’ll try to take it as a compliment that you think his voice might be suited to singing. …You’re right, but you won’t find that out for a very long time, if ever. His low, sonorous voice, perfect for lullabies and sad songs, is only for a deeply-trusted few.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): He doesn’t sing much, but he misses it. He tends a little monotone, but it’s hard to sing without emotion and inevitably, that creeps in. Which is slightly problematic for his condition, so he’s prone to humming, then singing, then getting a little too into it and having to stop. Looking forward to sorting that and being able to sing jubilant pop songs with wild abandon again.

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): Not really, but sometimes if (he thinks) he’s alone, he’ll put on some punk-rock screamo and sing along to it. Wildly embarrassed if caught at it and will deny and deflect, he was not, and who said you could come in anyway?! All a lot of fuss for no real reason, ‘cause he sounds good, always deeply passionate and putting his whole voice into it when he sings. Ah well, can't argue.

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): He’ll sing whenever the music takes him. ‘When the music takes him’ is usually when he’s relaxing with the radio on, or trying to be playful with you, but he’s not above karaoke on a dare or concert sing-alongs if opportunity knocks. He’ll sing a lot of things but perhaps surprisingly, his voice is best-suited to classic crooners, so for the sake of a manageable ego, try not to swoon.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): He rides the edge of non-verbal most days, so singing isn’t really his forte or pleasure. Probably the most you’ll get out of him is a thoughtlessly hummed wisp of tune here and there, usually when he’s occupied with something and not thinking about it. Maybe a more deliberately-hummed love song for you, but those are hard to catch, since he’s most prone to them when he thinks you’re asleep.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): He likes singing, definitely more willing than most to sing if there’s a catchy song on or if other people are singing around him. He has a good voice for it, not especially deep but fluid and melodic, nice to listen to. He struggles a little with tempo, getting to certain parts of songs a little faster or slower than called for, but hey, it’s not like he’s classically-trained.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): Loves to sing! He thinks it’s fun and likes the resonance of his own voice, so he’ll do it often—sing-songing a phrase, singing lyrics to you to be playful, or just because he’s enjoying a song. Not the best at staying on key and occasionally gets lyrics ‘wrong’ (read: rewrites them to make more sense to him), but he’s undeniably a good singer and pleasant to listen to.

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans): Unlikely to spend any time singing. Anything he could sing is just electronically-generated sound, you could just as easily listen to a recorded voice and get the same or better. …Which is not entirely true, there’s a depth of feeling and—for lack of a better word—soul in his deep, bassy resonance that no true machine could ever replicate. But good luck getting him to believe it.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus): Sure, he’ll sing, whatever you want! In actuality, he hums idly more than he sings, but will definitely do so upon request. He cheats a little—or as he might put it, ‘has fun with it’—and isn’t shy about sampling from clips and songs, or auto-tuning himself in real-time for effect. He likes making music and anything he can access to do so is really just fair game.

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans): He likes to sing! Whether or not he’s any good seems to vary, sometimes singing beautifully and other times, just a little…off, somewhere. It mostly depends on if he’s tuned in to the here-and-now, or if he’s thoughtlessly trying to harmonize with background cosmic radiation or something equally strange that he can hear but you can’t. Regardless, he doesn’t care what he sounds like, singing is expression, not perfection!

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus): He loves singing and will take any excuse for it. He’ll break out the smooth, dulcet tones to sing you love ballads, to fill a silence, to make up a silly song about the cat that it can be furious at him over—anything! He’ll even sing to birds if the opportunity presents itself, with chirps and flutey whistles that make wildlife flock to him like he’s some kind of Disney prince.

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans): Sure, if he’s feeling it, any song that goes particularly hard might coax him to sing along with it—the kind of stuff that’s loud and fast and probably about sticking it to The Man. He’s got a good singing voice, but does tend to push it a little hard, so sometimes it’ll crack or blow out, and then he’s raspier than normal for awhile after he’s overdone it.

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus): Unlikely to sing. He’s not in the habit of using his voice for anything but responding to commands and inquiries, so he never really developed any kind of musical aptitude. If he tried, he’d be very shy and very out-of-tune. With some space and support, he might graduate to some quiet humming while he’s occupied and he’d be pleased with that, especially if you tell him you like it!

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans): No, he doesn’t sing. That would draw far too much attention to him and make him look foolish, he won’t be doing that… At least, not like that.  A soft, breathy lyric when you’re asleep, or when you have your back turned to him, a vaguely tuneful murmur more like poetry than song… Maybe that he can do, if sufficiently…moved…by emotion. Don’t expect miracles, but maybe that.

Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papyrus): No special enjoyment in singing, but he’ll do it freely if relevant, convenient, or in some way entertaining. His voice—warm, smooth, inviting—is just another part of his body to be used in accomplishing his goals, whatever they may be. He’s not the shy type and knows full-well when he’s good at something (note: this is very dangerous), so…don’t be surprised if he uses it for evil mischief.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans): Perhaps surprisingly…yes, he does enjoy singing every now and then. But he’s very selective about who gets to hear—new acquaintances need not apply, and for as long-lived as monsters have gotten, his definition of ‘new’ is long. Still, with a voice as deep and dark as the Underground itself, it’s probably worth the wait to hear him hum and then sing a few sensual, jazzy bars for you.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus): Definitely, he likes to sing! He’s a teensy bit scattered, so he’s prone to trailing off if he forgets the lyrics, or trailing in if he started thinking about a song and picked it up out loud from whatever part he was at, but he’s a good singer with enough enthusiasm as to be contagious—so if you wanted to join in, he’d be absolutely thrilled.

[nectardaddy]

full throttle | sakusa kiyoomi

chapter eight | no faith | 🏎️

masterlist

Neither party could find much to say in the morning, even after getting coffee. A thick, almost tangible, tension in the air that was hard to miss and neither could really work themselves around.

A tension to him that was suffocating, riddled with anxiety of the upcoming tandem mixed with never knowing exactly what to say. For her, completely deafening, determined to only look out the window. Both telling themselves, I'll talk if they do, being the complete collapse of conversation all together. Tension that remained for the entire trip, 30 minutes of dreadful silence completely overshadowing any meaningful conversation that was had the day before.

Shifting his car into neutral and pulling the parking break, he let out a breath before looking over to her. "Sorry," mumbling an apology before continuing, "I'm pretty nervous today, actually."

Even still she flashed him a small, nervous smile, "you'll do great, I know it."

"The whole reason I did well yesterday was because you said I was the best driver you'd ever seen and I couldn't get it out of my head." Blurting out the words before quickly closing his mouth, mind reeling as he didn't register what he wanted to say. The words just came out. "Fuck, I'm sorry, that was weird," desperately trying to back track the conversation. Cheeks flushing as he saw her eyes widen from his out burst.

"No," she corrected. "Not weird at all," letting a nervous chuckle pass her lips as a pause entered once again. "It's sweet, I didn't know it would mean that much to you."

Finally, the man felt as if he could breath again. Listening to, only part, of what Komori had suggested he say paid off. "Thanks for coming today, I'm happy you're here."

"Of course," the nerves leaving her smile as it turned pure. "I'm happy I came with you. Plus, I can't wait to see you kick everybody else's ass."

jfc the first message from "baby got track" was atsumu saying if you think we wouldn't notice you blushing getting outta that car you're WRONG (technology actually hates my very existence today)

double feature again bc I didn't feel great about that last chapter

omi was thinking of telling yn that the entire way there but pawned it off as being nervous for tandems

as much as they get on his nerves, those 3 ARE his friends and it was only a matter of time before he told them how he felt

he just had to mentally prepare himself

suna just lives to annoy yn

but other than noya, he's probably the most ride or die friend

he's also the best at running from cops

if omi doesn't win now he will die of embarrassment, he's taking "kick everyone's ass" to heart

taglist under cut

@wyrcan @hilichurl-lover @neuviloved @mayariviolet @wqnsho

@chosugarplum @dontmindtheevie @ilyless @phoenix-eclipses @kitnootkat

@azuremyst99 @wolffmaiden

[trippinsorrows]

I feel like this is another multiverse type question. But say Solana wasn’t in the situation she was in and Roman was very much so attracted to her as he is now. How do you think Roman would have approached her ?

this is such an interesting question!

hmmm.

under the read more cause this got longer than i intended lol

roman was bored, ready to go. functions were never his thing. he always attended out of obligation and necessity. never want. and considering he's been present for an hour, he more than feels he's done what he needed to do.

he pulls out his phone to text paul to have the car pulled for him, ready for his wise man to foolishly try to convince him to stay when a body collides into him.

soft is one of the first things to hit him followed by a sweet, vanilla almond scent that's more than pleasing to all of his senses. his arm naturally reaches to brace the person who collided with him, a person he right away knows is a woman, both by the soft curves of her body but also the fragrance.

"oh my god." the voice. so soft and sweet, almost too sugary, too angelic for such a function, full of the world's most dangerous people. such a stark contrast. "i'm so sor---"

she's silenced, and roman is momentarily taken back as the two of them lock gazes. beautiful, big brown eyes widened in alarm that's most likely due to her recognizing who he is. "mr. reigns...."

roman is partially paying attention to her words but mostly taking his sweet time taking all of her in. her face is absolutely stunning, and roman can tell it's not just because of the beautifully done makeup. he can see natural beauty beneath that. her hair is pulled up into a fancy updo, but her full lips snatch his focus before he rakes his eyes over her body, even curvier than he realized. cleavage on full display in her red dress that hugs her perfectly. she's a tiny little thing. a good foot shorter to him, but there's no denying it.

she's fucking stunning.

and she's still fucking apologizing. "i'm so sor---"

"it's fine." anyone else, and it wouldn't be. but there's something about this woman with the soft voice, light eyes, and alluring body that has him not as irritated as he normally would be. "it was an accident."

she nods, clearly nervous, when she looks over her shoulder, as if looking for something. or someone.

suddenly curious, he asks, "who are you--"

"oh no," she interrupts him, an unintentional thing, as she offers what looks like an apologetic look. she holds up the bottom of her red gown to move past him. however, roman finds himself moving his arm to bar her, holding her. he has to stop himself from thinking too much about the almost natural feeling he experiences in and with touching her.

"i---"

"there you are."

roman breaks his stare with the woman to see none other than ethan fucking page. he scoffs. no wonder she's running.

this bastard is insufferable.

page clears his throat and gives roman a nod. "mr. reigns, i apologize for the interruption." his gaze falls on the woman who almost moves closer to roman, practically holding onto him. it's obvious she's uncomfortable as hell. has to be for good reason too. "just need to speak to---"

"she's with me."

it comes out without much thought, both page and the unnamed woman looking at him with equal surprise.

page removes his glasses, looking at her, "solana?"

solana

unique. pretty. fitting.

she swallows. "i---" and just like that, she seems prepared to ruin this save roman has provided her, though he hasn't the slightest idea why he's giving her a save. yet, here he is.

"get lost, page." roman's tone shifts into something darker, something that's very reminiscent of the reason that he's easily the most feared man in the room. "i won't repeat myself."

i.e. get lost, or i'll snap your neck. an unspoken threat that's clearly understood, because page murmurs something that's probably an apology. and then he's gone, leaving roman alone yet again with this solana.

looking back at her, she gives him a small smile. roman is quickly realizing she's even prettier when she smiles. "thank you."

roman nods, asking, even though he doesn't know why, "what's the story?"

her smile drops into a frown that roman finds himself wanting to wipe off her face. "ethan....he doesn't know how to take 'no' for an answer." she shakes her head, scoffing quietly. "he shows up to my store at least once a week just to ask me out, even though the answer is always no."

"where do you work?" it's not that roman necessarily wants or even needs to know this piece of information, but there's a thought of breaking both page's knees and providing specifics when he does as such, such as the name of the place he's never to step foot in again, which could be....helpful.

roman is thankful when the smile returns, not as bright but still present. he'll take it. "i own a bookstore in town. nina's." his curiosity must be visible. "my mother's name. we share a love of books."

he makes a sound. everything he's learned in the less than twenty minutes he's known about this girl makes all the sense in the world. of course, her name is different, unlike any name for a woman he's heard of. of course, she has trouble fending off an asshole like page. and of course she likes books.

she clears her throat, finally breaking away. roman didn't even realize he was still holding her. "thank you again, mr. reigns."

"roman," he corrects. "call me roman."

she swallows, voice softening, "roman...."

he's not sure he's ever enjoyed hearing his name as much as he likes hearing it on her mouth. he'd love to hear it even more if she was screaming it, moaning it as he fucked her, kneading those beautiful, soft breast of hers.

fuck

"why are you looking at me like that?" she asks in that same sweet, almost innocent voice.

his eyes twinkle with mischief. "do you really need to ask?"

solana shifts bit, playing with her hands, hinting at some nervousness. "i'm not like that."

roman is almost certain he knows what she's saying, but he makes sure, regardless. "and what is that?"

her mouth shifts into a small smirk. "do you really need to ask?"

and for the first time tonight, roman smiles.

this girl is unlike any he's met before.

continuously intrigued, he asks, "what's your last name?"

she answers, "miller."

recognition dawns after a couple seconds for him. "xavier and nina...you're the daughter?"

he's always heard they had another child other than wesley, but he'd never seen her at one of these functions. didn't even realize it was a daughter.

a beautiful daughter at that.

she nods. "i don't typically attend these sorts of things."

"you should," he finds himself suggesting. roman isn't the biggest flirter, doesn't need to. women flock to him like moths to flame, but there's something about this woman... he steps closer to her, hand reaching out to run his finger along her cheek. "how else am i going to see you?"

she seems taken back, cheeks turning pink, but she takes him by surprise with her reply, "you could come see me."

his chuckle is dark and his tone suggestive. "oh, i don't think coming will be an issue."

and her cheeks deepen in color, as she announces, "i should go find my brother."

eyes falling to her chest, he asks, "should you?"

solana smiles and diverts her gaze, slightly disappointing him when she steps back. "goodbye, roman."

he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his custom suit pants. "not goodbye," he correct. "just goodnight."

because there's no doubt in roman reigns mind that this was the last time he'll ever see solana miller.

far from it.

[1d1195]

Dolcezza Extra I

Read Dolcezza here | ~4.7k words

From me: this is something I’ve never done before: an alternate idea to something I've already written. I will be copying and pasting parts to keep the continuity but I hope you like it. It was pretty fun. The first couple paragraphs are from the original part. I’m sure you can all follow without me telling you all this. Have fun!

Warnings: stalking, scary (?) Also, no clue what kinds of protocols are supposed to be in place for this sort of thing. I don't think it makes a lot of sense logistically or law-wise. But that's not what we're here for, right?! I wanted it to kind of go right in the middle of Part 8, like starts in the beginning-ish part of it and end essentially in the same way.

It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.

The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.

Harry dropped a knife for the third time on the same onion he had been trying to dice for the last five minutes. He growled to himself, snagged it off the floor (nearly slicing his hand from his anger overtaking rational thought to pick it up by the handle), and all but tossed it in the sink.

“Why not just talk to her?” Niall muttered across the way.

“Shut up,” he snapped, bitterness coating his voice. Niall raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head. He turned the other way, turned his attention to the soup he was pouring into bowls. “M’going to,” he mumbled grabbing a clean knife as he started chopping again. “Sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s alright. Just thinking we could really use her help,” Niall smirked.

Harry snorted. “Y’could probably ask her,” he mumbled. “She’d come running t’help m’sure.”

“Yeah, but it defeats your whole she’s spreading herself too thin. And then I’m no different than rest, huh?”

Harry sighed, grateful for his understanding. “You’re a really good friend, Niall.”

“Don’t I know it,” he laughed. It was infectious. Hard to keep Harry in a bad mood and he prayed to God the orders slowed soon so he could run up and beg her to come help Niall and him because as much as he didn’t want to ask her for another thing, working with her on busy nights were some of his favorite moments.

Harry’s phone was still vibrating. He wondered if he set a timer for something and it was just going off continuously. “M’phone’s been ringing nonstop.”

“Mum?” Niall asked.

“No... she knows m’at work. Plus, she’d call the restaurant if it was an emergency. I gave her the number.”

“S’probably an alarm, yeah?”

“Yeah... probably.”

“Oh, she’s here,” Niall mumbled his gaze narrowing at the slip of paper in his hand. “Eggplant and two times the extra garlic bread…” Niall waved the ticket out like he always did when they realized the arrival of Harry’s Principessa.

Well, at least Harry wouldn’t have to sprint upstairs to apologize. Still, it was odd she didn’t make herself known when she got there even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Harry glanced toward the window for a peek to see if she was there, but he was too far away. “Niall did you see her?” He asked.

“No…” his voice was low, over the bustle of the few staff that were in the kitchen, Harry hardly heard him. Like he was piecing a puzzle together. He was studying the slip. Like it would give him the hint.

“See who?” The hostess asked. She was grabbing a take-out order off the counter that Niall had just finished packaging. Niall slid the ticket into the holder still examining it.

“Principessa,” Niall mumbled. “She always orders extra garlic bread with her eggplant.”

“Oh yeah she’s here with her brother or something,” Antonio’s nephew, Matteo, jumped right into the conversation as he brought back empty plates from the dining room.

Harry’s head snapped up from the veggies he was cutting and tossing into a pot to make a sauce. “Brother...?” Harry didn’t think that made sense at all. He remembered seeing “James groceries” on her calendar while he cleaned earlier in the week. It was always done on a day when James had to work in the evening so there was no way he would have come all the way out here for dinner. Still, he thought Harry would have known if James was here—between his protective brother streak or even just saying hello and thank you for the food. Harry thought she would bring him right back here to the kitchen and make herself at home.

But maybe Harry misread it. Or maybe James finally suspected she was tired and strung out and was taking a step to help with his kind older sister.

“Well, it’s not dinner with you; so, who else would it be?” Matteo reminded them with a shrug.

Niall gasped dropping the plate he was holding, and it shattered to the ground. Everyone stopped to look at him and he grabbed the ticket once more. Like it finally revealed the missing clue. At the same time Harry dropped the fourth knife he was using because if Matteo hadn’t said “who else would it be” they might not have put it together right then.

Harry hurried to the window and searched. “Where’s she sitting?” His voice was hurried. There was a one second pause. “Matteo, now!”

“Corner, near the door. What’s—”

“Niall...” Harry’s body felt weak and shaky. His blood was hot and boiling immediately. His vision was getting blurry at the edges, and he had never felt so close to throwing up in his whole life. Not even when he had the flu in university.

Why was his phone vibrating still?

“Oh no,” he murmured reaching for the phone in his pocket.

“Shit!” Niall hissed looking at the direction of the man sitting across from the pretty girl all the way across the restaurant.

Harry slid his thumb across his phone without taking his eyes off the table across the main room. The weakness he felt ached through every inch in his body. “Eleanor, I—”

He yanked the phone away from his ear as she responded, loudly, shouting. “Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!? Why do you even have one!?”

Harry felt sicker at the accusation. How could he not look at his phone? “El—”

“Harry it’s bad,” Eleanor sobbed, barely getting the words out. Harry could hear Louis shushing her as best he could. “It’s really bad.”

It was every one of Harry’s worst nightmares.

*

She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.

Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.

“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.

“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more and she stepped back as the door opened. Her jaw dropped along with her phone smacking to the ground. She could faintly hear Eleanor calling at the sound of the noise.

The man before her smiled excitedly, relieved. “You’re home. I knew I’d find you,” he sighed with relief reaching for her. Instinctively she took a step back, it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from throwing up all over herself or the not-so-stranger. “I’m so glad I’ve found you; I missed you so much.”

Her heart was pounding erratically. Her only saving grace was knowing Eleanor heard. She reached for her phone. Autopilot. Grab the phone that clattered to the floor.

He kicked it out of the way. “You don’t need that,” he assured her with an easy smile. She straightened; cleared her throat.

“I…don’t?” She whispered. She should have spoken louder so Eleanor could hear. Of course, she loved her apartment, and she loved Antonio and the little family he invited her to be part of that was Dolcezza. Right then, however, she wanted to cry that her apartment was soundproofed beyond auditorial recognition. Her eyes dropped to the fabric in his hand. She swallowed the bile that continued rising in her throat while he looked at her as if he had known her his whole life.

“No,” he shook his head.

Her mind wasn’t working. She was exhausted and terrified and poor Eleanor was screaming from the other end of the line. He grabbed the phone. “Hi Eleanor,” he said simply. “She’s okay. We’re going on a trip, she’ll be safe with me,” he assured her.

Then he left her phone on the side table. Hanging up and leaving it there. It started to vibrate immediately; Eleanor desperate to hear her answer again. Instead, he ignored it, held his hand out for her to take. “I need my stuff—” she stepped toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it away, like he burned her. She gasped at the touch, and he frowned.

“Sorry—”

Her fight or flight kicked in and she bolted for the bathroom. It would lock and she would drop from the second story if necessary or scream until Harry heard her.

Oh. Harry.

Right as she tried to slam the door shut behind her his foot got in the way. She yelped as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the room. “Honey, stop fighting me,” he grumbled bitterly. She felt so sick. So scared. She wanted to scream and cry but it would be useless. No one would hear her. She needed to make someone hear her.

Slowly, painfully slowly, her brain started to work. It wasn’t much. But she prayed silently to herself that it would be. She took a shaky inhaled breath. “I’m…sorry,” her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She was too scared. It was a nightmare, but she could feel the way her teeth bit into her cheek. It wasn’t something she would be waking up from. “I’ve had a really long week and a really long day. I haven’t eaten yet,” she whispered. “I was going to go downstairs and eat at the restaurant,” she sniffled. “Can we do that? A date?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say it. Her fingernails dug into her palms reminding her further it was a nightmare. It had to work. Please let it work.

“A date?” He mused. He stuffed the fabric in his hands into the pocket of his pants.

“Please,” she whispered. “I’m starving.”

“And then we can go to my place?”

The idea was so nauseating, so terrifying, she worried that it wouldn’t work. If the food got to her table, she was so incredibly scared she wouldn’t be able to eat it. Her whole body felt shaky and clammy. Like when she had the flu. One bite and she would be puking all over her table.

But hopefully that would get Harry’s attention.

“Okay,” he agreed and held his hand out for her to take. It felt like cheating on Harry to hold someone else’s hand. She forced the tears behind her eyes and willed the nausea to stay in the pit of her stomach.

She placed her hand in his.

*

Harry was pacing trying to figure out how to tell her he knew. Niall was on the phone with the police begging for no sirens and no lights. Eleanor was, in the smallest of possible ways, relieved to hear she was in the restaurant and not halfway to somewhere they didn’t know.

Harry couldn’t see her face. It killed him. Why didn’t he go up sooner? Why didn’t he beg for her to come down and help so they could make up? Why didn’t he insist and help her stubborn self the way he wanted to?!

“Goddamnit!” He shouted and shoved a bin of clean cutlery on the floor. It was so loud the restaurant ceased to make noise for a prolonged moment.

“Harry,” Niall was off the phone with the police Eleanor sobbing in his other ear no doubt. “You need to be smart. They cannot leave before the police get here or we’re fucked. Eleanor already sent the detective on her case to his old place of residence and there is no sign of him there. So, if they leave…” he trailed off and Harry released a strangled noise from his throat. Not quite a cry, not quite a yell. The pain was so intense from the thought he thought he could feel it in the atoms of his body. “If you cannot have a controlled response...,” Niall warned without finishing the sentence.

Harry swallowed the feeling of being sick down. He knew what Niall meant. “Okay,” he croaked.

Everyone was still trying to work. But the whispers ensued. Within moments, everyone knew. Everyone was trying to piece together a plan and Harry felt so confused, so lost, so scared because the only one he could ever imagine getting out of this situation was his sweet Principessa herself.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. He needed to be brave. She needed him. She never needed anyone. The weight of that made him terrified. Shaking his head he pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes to stop the stressed tears from escaping. He swallowed and shook his head again. She did the hard part. She got herself in the restaurant and Harry’s attention without even talking to him. “Niall, bring out the garlic bread in three minutes,” he ordered while untying his apron and heading for the door to the alleyway. “Tell Eleanor to tell the detective to hurry.”

*

The restaurant was easily one of her top five favorite places in the world. But right now, she wanted to scream and run from it. Where was Harry or Niall?! God, she wanted to kill Matteo. How did he not know? Wasn’t everyone under a silent direction to tell Harry when she arrived?

The worry began to take over. Harry wasn’t coming to her rescue because he didn’t want to. She pushed him away and he was going to let—

No.

Harry, despite how mad he might have been, would never let anything happen to her. She was certain.

Wasn’t she?

Perhaps Harry really just didn’t know. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Especially without any indication that anyone knew she was there. Her back was to the restaurant, and she was still in her gym clothes. With her back turned, hair in a ponytail, she was probably less recognizable than normal. That had to be it. He had no idea she was there.

It was a miracle she could keep her breathing as even as she did. The thoughts started to spiral further. Maybe he wouldn’t know. It was really busy in the restaurant—Matteo might not have noticed she was there with a stranger when he seated them since the hostess wasn’t there. Maybe he didn’t tell Harry yet.

Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears it was hard to hold a conversation with him almost because she couldn’t hear him; more so than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. But she didn’t have a choice. He asked her about work, her family, and if she had been reading anything good. She wasn’t into it—it was obvious and she wished she was because the only thing that was going to save her was being able to play it off that she didn’t want to crawl out of her skin at the sight or sound of him. Her stomach was churning, and her voice was so quiet she wished she could do a better job acting but she was terrified. Pain started behind her eyes, and she wanted to scream.

“Good evening.”

Her head snapped up to Harry briefly, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Her jaw dropped silently. She was really beginning to believe that he wasn’t coming to her rescue. But now he was there. He knew she was there. He was going to help. She was sure of it.

He knew she was there.

Her heart started to pound in a new way, still scared but for the first time in twenty minutes she took a deep cleansing breath; relieved. She looked at her lap afraid to give it away that she knew him.  “We are very short staffed this evening. We’re extremely sorry for the delay,” Harry sounded so formal, and she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would cry. “Your food will be out as soon as we can. Please be patient with us. We’re very sorry.”

If she looked up, she knew his eyes would be looking at her. She knew his apologies weren’t about the food. The gravity in his voice said he was sorry because he didn’t know she was there sooner. He was sorry he didn’t come upstairs or to her rescue faster. A tear slipped across her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Do you have a bathroom?” She asked.

“I don’t think—”

“Of course,” Harry interrupted hurriedly; she could practically hear the excitement in his voice. Like he was grateful she had a plan because he was a little stuck, a little lost. It made her feel weak immediately. The worry Harry must have felt because of her made her feel guilty and sad. She wanted to fix it and it was hard she felt like she was balancing on a tightrope. She hoped Harry wouldn’t hate her for running the second she had the opportunity. “I’ll lead you,” he offered.

“You just used the bathroom upstairs, honey,” the man reminded her. His voice was tight.

He was going to be mad if she left; that much was evident. “Well, I just—” She started.

“She’s all set, actually. Thank you.”

Harry stared at him. Weighing his options. She could see it. She cleared her throat. “Um...it’s okay,” she whispered quietly. Refusing to look at Harry again. If she did, she was going to blow what little cover she had. Poor Harry. “M’just a little tired,” she assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.

“S’back and to the left,” Harry murmured and then headed to the next table and explained the short-staffed shift again. She wondered what he was thinking and what he was saying to the table. They looked like regulars, but she wasn’t completely sure because her mind was frazzled. Harry leaving her to fend for herself, even though he was only four feet away at most had her aching for him more than she ever wanted to hold his hand in her whole life.

Harry was losing his mind. He knew she understood his apology for taking so long. He knew that she understood between the lines that he was apologizing for Matteo’s mistake in not telling him sooner. Harry would have been out in the dining room so much faster. As much as it pained him to see her seated across from another man, regardless of the circumstances. It would have been better if she was with another guy in general. At least he wouldn’t be worried sick about her safety.

It took every bit of his strength to keep blowing their cover. To keep from shaking while he told the next table that they were short-staffed. They quietly inquired about the strange man sitting with the sweet girl they all had grown to know as their sometimes-waitress and Harry’s lovely Principessa. He quietly murmured something and then casually bumped into the table dropping the knife near the edge to the floor. As he bent to grab it, he murmured to the guy, pleaded with his eyes as he tried to whisper devoid of emotion. “Do not let her leave with him.”

Harry moved to the next table—strategically he chose the tables that allowed him to keep her in his peripheral. It was killing him. The shaking was becoming uncontrollable, and the whisper beg to the couples, imploring for help from the people he had gotten to know over the years, was getting strangled in his throat as he moved to the third and fourth table.

He was at a loss. The bathroom was a great idea, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to get her from point A to point B. Maybe he could pour hot soup on her, insist she come to the kitchen for help. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill their hot soup in her lap either. He supposed he could throw ice cubes in it and make it less horrible on her delicate skin, but he had to do something! His mind was spiraling. He wouldn’t see her in his peripheral in just two more tables and he was already about triple the distance of what he wanted to be from her—granted even an inch of space given the scenario seemed more horrific than he could bear.

He was feeling nauseous. Maybe he should just grab her by the hand and pull her away. But they had a chance to get rid of him. To keep him away from her once and for all. He violated the restraining order. That had to be something. He would have to go away.

Despite the fact she was so close but felt like an entire galaxy away. Harry was crumbling internally. This poor older woman who had been coming in every Saturday for years looked at him with pity in his eyes as he repeated his spiel once more. The agony he felt was in every inch of his bones, every pore of his skin. His eye was twitching.

When he got her safe and out of harm’s way, he planned on never letting go of her. At least not for a few days. He was going to kiss her and hold her. Apologize to her and cook for her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Harry was going to tell her he loved her and didn’t care if she was stubborn or felt like she was hard to care for because she didn’t like to be needy. He was needy. He needed her. It was killing him to be so close and so far away. So helpless and terrified that he couldn’t help her the way he wanted to right then. Even scared shitless, he thought she was beautiful and brave. So brave. She got here. She got his attention. That had to mean something. She believed in Harry and that he would find her or know she was there despite the frustration and anxiety she felt.

It was hard to believe it was only three minutes since he actually talked to her and apologized for taking so long. Niall came from the back with a plate of garlic bread as promised. Niall was going to come up with the next part of the plan, Harry hoped. Hell, he would go back to the table, feigning exhaustion for apologizing twice. God, he needed to get a bowl of soup, he was going to have to spill it in her lap! It was the only way.

Harry listened intently as Niall arrived at their table. He could almost see the glitter of her tears in her eyes. Nearly crying again at the sight of Niall. He wanted to make a joke more than anything that it had nothing to do with Niall but everything to do with her favorite bread in his hands. But he was mortified. Speechless in front of a table waiting with waited breath as they heard the murmurs and the wisps of what Harry managed to mumble before Niall’s arrival.

“Garlic bread,” he announced, as if she didn’t know. “Buon appetite,” he winked casually. He was far better at lying and acting than Harry or herself combined. She was itching to run. Niall and Harry, both could stop him. Someone would tackle him, right? She was fluttery. Ready to leave as soon as she saw an opening because she didn’t know what else to do. “Can I get you two anything else?” Niall asked kindly.

“I know you,” he said. It lacked suspicion but was no less terrifying.

She could see Harry’s back straightened in her peripheral and his speech silenced. Matteo and the hostess were working from the other end of the room at the same time. Probably explaining the situation to every table as quietly as they could just like Harry was.

Without any tell in sight, Niall merely tilted his head and looked at him. “Hmm...sorry. M’not sure I recognize you,” he shrugged. Niall stepped closer, getting a better look at the man across from her. His acting skills deserved an award.

But in moving closer, Niall also blocked her a good margin from his view. It was her chance. She bolted. Running from the main room and toward the kitchen so fast it took a minute for anyone to realize she was gone. She zipped out the kitchen door, back through the alley, and up to her apartment. She heard a shout coming quickly behind her, so she had to be faster. She hurried back into her apartment unable to do anything but grab her phone off the table and run into the bedroom and hide in the closet, closing the door quietly behind her. She dialed Eleanor. Her heart pounding as she heard the sound of steps. She left the door open to make it look like she ran back out, but it was impossible.

He was already in the apartment. Already tearing through her belongings, shouting, upending her furniture, and rifling through everything.

“Babe?” Eleanor nearly screeched with relief.

“I can’t talk,” she whispered barely an audible octave.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay on the phone,” she promised. “The police are on their way.”

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz

@likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59

@babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06

@canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong

@foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03

@luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr

@crossyourpeter @kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @harryscherri

@indierockgirrl @michellekstyles @hermionelove @somethingabout1d19

Dolcezza: @matildasatellite @lovingfurypanda @sideboobrry11 @theresnooneheretosave @12yeahiminluvwu

@cohnfusedarling

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if I put you on the wrong list, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

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