#like i just need one thing to go right for me. just one thing please god just one thing please.

[niwaart]

FAMILY WITHOUT LIGHT

[#part1 #part2 #part3]

Dick panicked, he gripped his phone tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip.

《This number is unreachable, please try again later.》

Dick let out a scream of anger and impatience, he had been trying to call Y/N for over 5 hours, just to get an answer. Why did she leave the house?… All this happened when he was in his Nightwing costume doing a normal nighttime mission after tying up criminals, a newspaper with Bruce’s picture caught his attention, Dick wondered what new drama the journalists were talking about this time, as soon as he grabbed the newspaper he felt like the air was being sucked out of him. It took him over a minute to process what was being said…

##Bruce Wayne and Y/N Wayne divorced after more than 15 years.##

No... that's a lie, just another rumor, it can't be true, maybe Bruce doesn't care about Y/N but Y/N wouldn't leave the house... after all he saw her love for Damian and Tim, and how she cared for them... so this is just a rumor... right?....

Dick took the newspaper with him and quickly ran to his apartment... He needed to make sure.. He had to get to his apartment to call Y/N.. She would tell him the truth, reassure him, tell him that everything was okay.... As soon as he got to his apartment window, he opened it and entered after entering the access code. His dog Haley approached him, he gave her a few pats before he reached his phone and called Y/N... But she didn't answer his calls.... He tried and tried and tried... But no answer... Could it be true?... Did Y/N leave the house?... Why?....

He was going to call Bruce but he was mad at him for not stopping Y/N from leaving and that he might be the reason Y/N left. So he decided to call Alfred who immediately answered, "Mr. Dick, how may I help you?" "Hello Alfred... Sorry to bother you now... The thing is... I..." Dick hesitated... He was afraid to hear the answer...

“I just called Y/N and she didn’t answer… so I was wondering if everything was okay…” Dick answered, praying with all his might that there was an excuse other than the divorce… “Oh… Mr. Dick… I don’t know how to tell you this… but… Y/N and Bruce have been divorced for three months now…” Alfred’s answer was like a knife slicing into his chest… well maybe deep down he knew the divorce was real… but… three months ago?… and no one told him?… “How… why?… why the divorce, and why didn’t anyone tell me?” Dick’s voice was muffled, he tried not to cry, he tried to control himself a little… “I’m sorry Mr. Dick… it was such a shock to everyone that I forgot to tell you… as for the divorce, Y/N chose that herself… unfortunately…” Alfred’s voice was filled with pain, making it even harder for Dick to hold back his tears… Y/N had left them… she had left them…

Dick hung up the phone after thanking Alfred and collapsed on the floor crying… His dog Haley was beside him trying to comfort him… But it didn’t work… It took Dick maybe half an hour to calm himself down… He tried to take deep breaths in and out… Then he hugged his dog Haley who had already settled happily in his lap. Dick was sitting on the floor leaning his head on the bed behind him while looking at the ceiling of his apartment. He couldn’t help but remember all the memories with Y/N. Dick may not have said it out loud before, but he considered Y/N as his mother… She always took care of him, he still remembers the first time he came to Wayne Manor after his parents died, he was full of anger and wanted revenge, Bruce was trying to channel his anger in a good way to fight the bad guys, but Y/N allowed him to vent his anger, by crying and getting all his feelings out and not holding them in, he remembers that he was mean to her at first, thinking that she was trying to be his mother, but after a while, it turned out that she was just trying to help him, she helped him decorate his parents' grave, buy new things, and when he fought with Bruce she took his side… and even now she still against Bruce and side with Damian, he loved the stories she told, she helped him and encouraged him to speak his mind and thoughts and not hold them in… even when he had a big fight with Bruce and decided to leave the house to be independent… She called him every night, asking him how he was, and if he tried to lie she would know and ask him to tell the truth, which he actually couldn't resistance, so he was always honest with her, Dick was used to being a leader and a good big brother, everyone depended on him… and Y/N was the one he could count on, she was the light of his life, she was family, until recently she used to call him and check on him, now he knew why she hadn't called in three months… He sighed and looked down to see that Haley was asleep, he picked her up and put her in her bed. Even if Y/N had left the house, she still loved them, he was sure, maybe if he went back to Gotham and talked to her he would understand, yeah, maybe she had left the house, but she wouldn't leave them, she still loved them. He was sure

In Gotham... specifically at Wayne Manor, Tim was suffering from a headache and back pain, he was lying in his bed... well maybe not his bed, but in Y/N's bed and room. His work and the pile of papers were almost competing with the towering mountains... when did paperwork become so stressful and tiring? He didn't remember this ever being a problem for him, he wouldn't lie to himself, he knew that Y/N's departure was the reason for the work to be doubled, the sleep to be less, and the pain to be more, Y/N used to do almost all the work for him, so he could rest, but now he couldn't balance his sleeping time, eating, doing all the work, solving cases, and becoming Red Robin, it was too much, Y/N was managing it so well, she did his work, made sure he ate and drank enough before she literally dragged him from the Batcave to the palace to sleep against his will, she always carried him like a baby, he always wondered how she could carry him so easily, okay he'd admit that when he first came to the palace he was a very skinny baby, but he grew up and became muscular, maybe not like Duck or Jason but he sure wasn't light, anyway that didn't concern him now... The problem here is that he hasn't slept in... two days? He doesn't know, maybe it's been three days... He hates that Y/N used to carry him to his room and stay by his side until he fell asleep, and he hated that she knew that sometimes he pretended to sleep, so she wouldn't leave until Tim was completely asleep... Sometimes Tim couldn't sleep easily, like when there was a mission or a case on his mind but Y/N carried him to his room before he could finish it, so he would complain and sometimes beg Y/N to finish the case, that it wouldn't take long, but Y/N always refused... And he couldn't sleep because of the case that consumed his mind, so Y/N would sometimes tell him stories... And it worked to make him sleep... He wondered if Y/N's stories were real, because they didn't seem imaginary at all, her stories were strangely realistic, to the point that all Tim's attention was only on the story until he fell asleep. And so Tim became forced to sleep because of Y/N, food and water, when he should take a break and when he should finish the case, Y/N was organizing his life, he didn't remember getting tired or exhausted from this organization, on the contrary, he was getting enough sleep and food to renew his energy, and even after he came back from his break he would come back with more energy and his solving of cases was at an amazingly higher rate than before, it was very useful, Y/N was the only one who knew how to organize him amazingly with all the work he had. But Y/N wasn't just organizing his life, she even hid his mistakes. Sometimes he would come back from missions with some wounds. Tim didn't like to say that he was injured, it made him weak, and he didn't want to be weak, but Y/N would discover every wound he had, even if it was hidden. The good thing was that she never told Bruce about the injuries, and if the injuries were serious, she would make an excuse for Tim not to go on the next mission. She would cover up all his failures and mistakes in silence... and he was grateful to her. He still remembered when Damian first came and took the Robin costume from him, she would comfort him and stay by his side and tell him that Robin wasn't the one wearing the costume, Robin was the one who protected the children of this city.

It really helped him… he remembered when he asked her advice about his new costume and name, and she encouraged him… she was proud of him, he saw it in her eyes, and when Batman disappeared and everyone thought he was dead and Dick was about to put him in Arkham, Y/N was the first to protest and the first to hit Dick… well that problem was solved a while ago and Y/N was so mad at Dick, it took Dick over three weeks to try to get her to forgive him… it was funny to Tim. She got mad for him. For him… he missed her… she was his whole life, now he couldn’t sleep or work, even his appetite was gone… he could barely survive on coffee now. That’s why he moved into her room a few weeks after she left, he wouldn’t say he slept well, but at least he did, now her scent, her warmth, even her voice and her look at him were gone. When he moved into her room he had a fight with Damian about it, that was the first and last fight they had since Y/N left. Damian wouldn't like it if Tim was the one taking over Y/N's room, and it was a long, tiring fight, in which Damian gave in for the first time ever, letting Tim sleep in Y/N's room. Tim knew very well why Damian was angry, that he missed Y/N too, Damian had changed dramatically after her departure, he barely spoke inside the house, and even on missions he didn't have the same enthusiasm as usual, and he didn't blame Damian for that, he missed her himself... but he had to thank his position as CEO of WE for that which helped him see Y/N a lot, he had multiple meetings with Y/N's family company under the pretext of resuming relations again, just to see Y/N, and one of the meetings was always cancelled due to circumstances, whether from his side or Y/N's, and the first meeting that finally happened was last night, and after more than three months he saw Y/N again, when she entered the meeting room she automatically patted him on the head and asked him how he was and that his appearance looked bad and he should eat and sleep well... Tim was silent, he felt a lump in his throat, if there weren't other people in the room he would have collapsed and hugged her and asked her to come back, but he remained silent looking down Trying to breathe slowly, after the meeting ended he wanted to catch up with her, and talk to her alone and tell her that he needed her back, he hadn't slept in a long time, but because of some old businessmen that Tim was planning to throw out who blocked his way with some questions, invitations and failed offers that caused Tim to be late to catch up with Y/N, but it's okay, he will have another meeting with her, and he will ask her to go home.

Tim sighed as he tried to sleep for the sixth time and was about to fall asleep this time but the knocking on the door woke him up. He grumbled and cursed under his breath at the person at the door unless that person was Alfred, Tim got up lazily and opened the door to be surprised by Damian standing at the door... "Oh? Damian? What's wrong?" Tim noticed Damian's eyes were puffy from crying, he wasn't surprised, ever since Y/N left Damian had been crying a lot, not that anyone would tell him that was obvious. "I want you to find me two people, they're from my school, and they call Y/N my aunt." Damian said calmly without any arrogance. Tim looked at him in confusion for a while, could it be that Damian was after Y/N now? "And before you say anything I know that you're trying to get Y/N back through the meetings you request from her family's company." Damian continued crossing his arms. Tim tensed for a moment, he didn't know that it was obvious, then sighed in surrender. "Okay, come in."

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[covenofagatha]

Spitroasting with g!p Agatha and g!p Rio

*gasp* who said that 🫢

I'm definitely not thinking about the same thing 👀 anyways...

Two is better than one

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, g!p Rio, spitroasting, daddy Rio, mommy Agatha, threesome, squirting, degradation, praise, light spanking

When Agatha gets home from work, the first thing she hears when she steps into the kitchen is the faint sound of slapping skin and your high-pitched whines and she chuckles to herself. 

Rio was always easier to break than she was, all it took is that doe-eyed look you do so well coupled with a daddy, please, and Rio couldn’t resist. 

So Agatha slowly steps up the stairs, careful to not make a sound lest she alert either of you. She creeps to the doorway and peeks around it, and the fabric of her pants instantly tightens. 

Rio’s got you on your knees and elbows on the bed, one hand wound in your hair, the other gripping your hip tightly, while she quickly thrusts her cock inside you. When she draws out, Agatha can see her length glistening with your wetness. Rio’s face is contorted with pleasure and Agatha wonders how long she’s been fucking you. 

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” Rio barks, slapping her hand on your ass and you emit another moan. 

It takes you a moment to respond because of the dizziness in your head. “So fucking good, daddy, your cock is so deep inside me — fuck, daddy, please!” 

“Better hope mommy doesn’t come home and see what a slut you’re being right now,” Rio grunts, pushing you down further into the mattress and you gasp at the new angle. She’s hitting your g-spot with every time and you can feel your orgasm building up. Tension is coiling in your body and you just need a bit more—

“Oh, well mommy is here,” Agatha says, stepping into the room and clapping slowly. “And she certainly does see what a slut you are.” Rio freezes inside you, her cock pulsing. You turn your head to watch Agatha walk over to you while you start to lazily move back and forth on Rio’s cock, who hisses. You’re by the edge of the bed so she comes to stand right in front of you.

“Hi, mommy,” you greet casually amidst the squelching sounds you’re making. If you act like her darling little girl, maybe she won’t punish you too badly. There’s an unspoken rule that you and Rio have to get Agatha’s permission before having sex, and you definitely didn’t today. 

In fact, Agatha told you this morning before she left in no uncertain terms, that you and Rio had to wait until she got home today. 

But then you had gotten horny and it doesn’t take much to convince Rio to fuck you. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” she says, tracing her fingers over your lips before shoving them into your mouth. You gag, eyes rolling to look up at her through your eyelashes, and you don’t miss the flicker of heat in her eyes. “You know I could hear you the second I got home?” 

You try to look embarrassed. “Whoops.” 

Agatha huffs out a laugh and pulls her sticky fingers out before wiping them on your cheeks. “Well, if you want the entire neighborhood to know what a slut you are for us, that’s fine.” She unbuckles her belt from her pants, slides it out, and throws it somewhere across the room. “But, you see, honey, mommy and daddy have a reputation to uphold.” She undoes the button to her pants and drags the zipper down slowly. “So I think I need to shut you up.” 

She pulls out her already-hard cock and you involuntarily clench around Rio. Her nails dig into your hips but you barely even feel it over how drunk you feel. You’ve never had both of them inside you at the same time. 

“Keep going, Rio,” Agatha orders, stroking her cock and watching the way your face changes when Rio starts to thrust back into you roughly. Agatha’s cock gets harder under her hand and your mouth is watering from the thought of tasting her. 

Rio’s cock is longer, but Agatha’s is girthier, so your jaw always hurts more after giving the older woman a blowjob. But the ache is delicious during it, and you can’t even imagine how good it’s going to feel to have Rio this deep inside you while Agatha fucks your mouth. 

Agatha waits until you’re a moaning mess before knocking Rio’s hand that’s holding onto your hair aside, taking its place with her own hand, and dragging her hot cock against your lips. She spreads her precum all over you, getting your cheeks and chin covered as well, before positioning it at your open mouth. 

You look up at her pleadingly and she slaps her cock against your stuck-out tongue a few times, making you moan at the weight. 

And then she pushes in all while Rio is pounding into you hard. 

Agatha starts out with shallow thrusts, just bobbing into your mouth and pulling back, and Rio’s grunts get louder behind you, her pace becoming more erratic. 

When Agatha finally gets her cock all the way down your throat, she pauses for a moment and just revels in the way your mouth feels around her, and you hollow out your cheeks and suck, making her whimper. 

Rio slows down, more than likely to stave off her own orgasm, so you’re being gently rocked forward onto Agatha’s cock. But then Agatha starts to move her hips and Rio matches her, and they’re both using you at the same time and you’ve never felt pleasure this intense before. 

“Look at our little whore, Rio,” Agatha chokes out and you can barely hear her over the wet sounds from your cunt and your gagging. You cough around her cock and it sends spittle pouring down your chin. “Taking both our cocks like the good slut she is. So fucking desperate for us. Oh, fuck—” You rub your tongue against the underside of her cock, where she’s really sensitive, and she pitches forward. 

“Such a good girl for mommy and daddy,” Rio coos before spanking you roughly. You whimper and the vibrations make Agatha’s hand tighten in your hair. Your jaw starts to burn but you try to relax and open a bit wider so Agatha can keep using your mouth. “Are we making you feel good, doll?” 

You babble something but it’s completely unintelligible with Agatha’s cock in your mouth and the fog in your brain, so you settle for nodding your head. Rio pulls your hips up to arch your back even more and you moan loudly, but it’s muffled. Rio is hitting so deep inside you that your toes are curling and your eyes are rolling back into your head. Both of their cocks are throbbing inside you and you know none of you are going to be able to last much longer. 

Your pussy clenches sporadically around Rio’s cock and your throat convulses around Agatha’s, and both of them are grunting with the effort of fucking you. You miss the shared glance between them and then all of a sudden, their thrusts match. They both push in and out of you at the same time and it’s completely overwhelming. 

“So fucking good,” Agatha rasps, both of them speeding up and your eyes gloss over. Tension like you’ve never felt is skating through your body, heat thrumming in your veins, and you feel everything. It’s all heightened — the way Rio’s cock drags against your walls, the way Agatha’s cock twitches against your tongue, you’re hyper-aware of Rio’s nails in your hips and Agatha’s hands both tangled in your hair. “Taking our cocks like a perfect slut. Our perfect slut. So good for mommy and daddy.” 

Rio starts to rut into you, shallowly but still quickly, and it feels like her cock is swelling inside you. “Fuck, doll, daddy’s gonna cum.” 

A thrill runs through you and you clench around her even more, but Agatha tightly says, “Not yet. Wait for me. We’re going to fill her up at the same time.” A loud keen rips itself out of your mouth, clear as day even with Agatha’s rough thrusts. Your throat is raw and your jaw is aching and tears are pouring down your face, mixing with the saliva on your chin, but you’re so fucking close and you need them to cum. Pressure is building up in your stomach in a way that’s never happened before, almost like you have to pee. 

But then they both give you a really hard thrust and the pressure explodes. You let out a sob and then you feel a gush of wetness and instant relief and Rio whimpers. 

“She fucking squirted,” Rio moans in awe, her breathing growing heavier. Agatha makes a pained sound and you know that they’re both so close.

So you suck Agatha’s cock roughly and she swears before stiffening. Rio sees this and drives her hips into you one last time before their warm seed spreads. You fall apart even more as they pump their cum into you, all three of you groaning and grunting. 

Agatha pulls out first and you gasp for breath, the cum that you didn’t swallow leaking out the side of your mouth. She cleans her cock off using your face and then swipes at the trail of cum with a finger and stuffs it back into your mouth. 

Rio stays inside you until she softens, both of you enjoying the feeling of her twitching every now and then when you clench from an aftershock. When her cock slips out of your body, her cum oozes out in globs and you fall onto the bed, absolutely spent and panting. 

The younger woman comes to stand in front of you next to Agatha and you can see how absolutely soaked you got her. There’s another pang of heat inside you when you take in how wet their cocks are. 

Agatha begins to slowly stroke hers and your breath catches in your throat when it slowly starts to harden again. 

“Let’s give her a second to recover,” she says, looking at Rio, “and then we switch. I want to know how her pussy feels after you’ve already cum inside it.” 

You can’t help the moan that escapes you. 

Fuck. 

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[softestqueeen]

prompt: "Oh? Does that turn you on?" a/n: sub!spencer lives in my head rent free. i hope you like it, enjoy <3 so, this is a repost beacause the original post got literally 0 notes and i want to see if tumblr is the issue or if it was really my writing 😭 original post + request warings:18+ MDNI!!, smut, pet names, hand job, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink pairing: sub!spencer reid x dom!reader I 979 words special prompts I special masterlist

You were standing in the kitchen of your boyfriends flat. Spencer Reid could do a lot of things and knew how to do even more things, but the one thing he never quite mastered, was cooking.

By no means were you a good chef, but you knew you way around a kitchen and could whip up a few meals. Which is why you were currently in Spencers kitchen, showing him how to do a simple lasagna.

"And that's how you do the layers. The key is to stay consistent and make the layers even. Now you go ahead and try, Spence."

Your boyfriend didn't enjoy the cooking as much as the close proximity while you were showing him how to do all the steps, guiding his hands or just hugging him from the side while watching something cook.

Watching Spencer cook away made pride swell in your chest. This wasn't your first cooking lesson and it was definetely a dramatic improvement from your first one, where you had a quick bathroom back and once you returned he managed to completely burn the pasta sauce. He looked like a kicked puppy while you threw the sauce away.

But since then he had gotten significantly better, even surprising you with a home cooked meal on your anniversery.

Once Spencer successfully laid out the next layer of the long pasta and sauce, you couldn't help but smile.

"You did such a good job, you're getting better and better," you knew your boyfriend loved it when you praised him, so you decided to tease him a little bit with it ,"you're such a good boy, Spencer."

That made him stop. Spencer was glad that he wasn't facing you right now, but rather was standing at the counter with you standing behind him to his right, now looking at his face. You immediately saw his blush, but Spencer was glad you couldn't see the boner he was now sporting after hearing his words.

He knew you were teasing him in a way, though you were still earnest. Still, he couldn't keep his body from reacting, the words planting a seed inside of his mind in a place he hadn't dared to discover yet.

You could see immediately what had happened, how your words affected Spencer. A slow smile spread over your face and you stepped closer to him, your lips now directly next to his ear.

"Oh, does that turn you on? I didn't know you liked being called that, though you were always my good boy." Now you were being a bit mean, but you knew that Spencer would tap out if it got too much.

At you calling him a good boy again, Spencers breath hitched. He wasn't surprised that you almost immediately caught on to his feelings.

You reached around his hip, palming his length through his trousers, making Spencer moan. Starting to pepper kisses over his neck, while Spencer leaned against you, just teasing him for now.

"You like that, baby? Me calling you a good boy?" He could hear you so clearly with your mouth directlly to his ear and his cock twitched in reaction to your filthy words.

It took him a moment to register that you asked him a question, but once he did he nodded, putting more of his weight against you.

"Words, baby, I need words. Be a good boy for me or I'll stop."

"Y- Yes, I- uhm, do like it when you call me that. Please, please I need you."

You could feel him throbbing though his trousers, deciding to have some mercy. Slowly undoing his belt and popping open the button of his jeans. Reaching inside you pull out his length, the tip glistening with precum as Spencer let out a relieved sigh.

Taking him in your hand you slowly start to move up and down, spreading the precum on his length. His pretty moans and whines only spurred you on further, not yet increasing your speed, but the grip you had on him, making him gasp.

You knew this was a new situation for the both of you, the dynamic itself already familiar. You decided to test out the waters, Spencer now being able to think clear enough incase he felt uncomfortable with anything.

"Such a good boy for mommy, huh? You like my hand wrapped arounf you?" Spencer moaned at your filthy words, his cock twitching imaptiently in your hand.

"Yes mommy, please more." Jackpot.

You went faster over his length, your free hand wandering to his front as well, slipping under his t-shirt and sprawling out over his stomach, making his muscles contract.

"You're doing so well for me, baby. I can feel you're getting closer."

"Please, mommy, make me cum. I want to be good for you." His breathing was getting more irregular and you could feel him being impossibly close to his high.

"Don't worry baby, yo're already such a good boy for me. Cum for me, cum for mommy."

Your words finally tipped him over the edge, his cum spurting all over his stomach and your hand. You continued to stroke him, your movements slowing down while he calmed down as well.

You peppered kisses onto evey free patch of skin you could reach at the moment and retracted your hand, taking a paper towel to clean you both up. After washing your hands and cleaning up the evidence of your short lived passion, you were ready to get things done.

"Well I'd say you finish the lasagna and then we'll contine. What do you say, Spence?"

With those words you left a stunned and sputtering Spencer behind. He turned around, looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. But once you gave him a pointed look, he immediately went back to the lasagna. 

You were sure you've never seen someone layer anything that fast.

the requests for this event are OPEN until sunday (16/02)! here are the prompts!

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open! (now also for the x files)

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa @mmmmokdok

[theemporium]

[11k] a seemingly random attack seems to be the start of a big problem for the new jersey devils and you find yourself one of the main targets. fortunately, you have one of the team's best as your appointed bodyguard. unfortunately, he seems to want nothing to do with you.

new jersey mob masterlist || nhl mob masterlist

warning: this is a mob au. topics and themes such as violence, blood, murder and gun use are prevalent and constant throughout the fic. please keep that in mind if you choose to proceed with this fic and the whole series.

.

“Did no one ever tell you as a kid that this much sugar is going to rot your teeth?”

“Well, brother dearest, considering you were the one who raised me, I think that’s a question you should be asking yourself.”

“You know, it’s kinda your fault her nickname is Candy,” a voice sounded from the background of the phone call. You beamed, almost imagining your brother’s face scrunching up at the callout. “Her sweet tooth is strongly encouraged by you.”

“Shut up, Jack.”

“Just pointing out the facts.” 

“No one asked.” 

“I assume you don’t want an eclair then?” You questioned, interrupting the bickering boys on the phone. The silence that followed made your grin widen. 

“Tell Peter to give me the biggest one.” 

“He always does,” you retorted, phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as the small bakery came into view. “Tell Jack I’ll get him those lemon muffins he likes.” 

“You’re the best, Candy!” Jack’s voice rang through the phone. 

“I know,” you answered simply, letting the bell ring above your head as you pushed the bakery door open. 

You smiled when you saw Peter—a sweet boy, no older than his mid-twenties with ruffled hair and constantly flushed cheeks—standing behind the counter with a stained apron on and a determined look on his face that softened when he saw you. 

“The usual?” 

“You know it.” 

“Coming right up, Candy!” 

“Luke thinks Peter has a crush on you,” Jack’s voice came through the phone once again. 

“I’ll shove a cupcake down his throat before he can try anything,” Timo grumbled. 

You rolled your eyes. “You’ll do no such thing, I’d rather not get banned,” you said, grinning a little when you heard Timo scoff. “And as flattered as I am, he’s a bit too soft for me.” 

“I bet he wouldn’t be so soft if you—” 

“Zip it, Hughes.” 

You snorted. “I’m high maintenance. Peter couldn’t handle that.” 

“No one in their right mind can.” 

“I can think of a few who could.” 

Timo huffed. “It’s like you’re trying to make me feel murderous on a Sunday. It’s God’s day. I don’t kill on Sundays.” 

“Well,” Jack started. “You did kill that dodgy fisherman a few weeks back on a Sunday—” 

“Do you ever shut up?” 

“Pete is a good guy, surely you’d want her to date him over anyone else—”

“It’s like you have a death wish.” 

“He’s winding you up,” you snorted, making yourself comfortable since the bakery was empty and settling on the counter by the cash register. “And you fall for it every time.” 

“Whatever,” Timo grumbled, and you could almost imagine the frown on his face. “Why are you over at Peter’s anyways? I thought Nico sent you to Philly.” 

“Jonas went alone instead,” you shrugged, despite the fact the boy couldn’t see you. “Apparently back up wasn’t needed and the negotiations were going fine. He wants me to head towards Buffalo instead. They are avoiding his calls.” 

Jack snorted. “Leave it to Nico to send Candy instead of leaving a voicemail.” 

“I’m scarier,” you grinned. 

Timo laughed. “Yeah, just as terrifying as a pink poodle.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll suffocate you with my fur coat.”

“You wouldn’t be able to catch me in those heels.” 

“You underestimate me, Tims,” you grinned. 

He let out a disgusted groan. “Don’t call me that.” 

When it came to life in the mob, there were a few rules you had to always remember. 

One: never trust someone not sworn in. No matter what they say and no matter what they do to try and prove themselves, no man or woman not under that same oath and protection will ever have your back. 

Two: make alliances with your brain and not your heart. It sounded stupid but far too many times have people found themselves entering stupid deals and negotiations to get what they wanted, far too blinded by their own desires to take off their rose-tinted glasses. 

Three: always—and emphasis on the always—be alert. You never know when an enemy can strike. You never know who’s lingering in the shadows, ready to catch you off-guard. 

Unfortunately for you, it was the third rule you found yourself forgetting as the sound of glass smashing echoed through the small bakery. 

There was a ringing in your ears, muffling the sounds of screams and yells and gunshots as the world seemed to move in slow motion around you. You were distantly aware that one of the voices was your brother on the phone, the other Peter somewhere in the back. But you could barely focus on your own thoughts as you quickly dropped to the ground, your back pressed against one of the booths as the gunshots continued to rain through the shop. 

You cursed yourself for not being alert. You cursed yourself for leaving your gun in your car. You cursed yourself for not even peeking to see how many men were shooting before you ducked to safety. 

You were so far in your own thoughts that it took a while to realise the gunshots had stopped. 

You jumped out of your skin when you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning to find Peter staring back at you with a pale face and wide eyes. His lips were moving but you couldn’t seem to process the words he was saying. 

“Calm down,” you managed to mutter out, placing your hand over his and squeezing. “You’re gonna be okay.” 

But the boy shook his head. “We need to get a doctor.” 

You blinked, your brain hardly keeping up with him. “What? Why?” 

Peter almost looked nervous as he spoke, as white dots began to blur your vision and his face morphed into blobs of colours. His mouth was moving, a pink and reddish blob that kept changing shape, as you strained to hear what he said. 

And then, your vision went black. 

…

“You were hurt!” 

“Timo—”

“Seriously injured! Hospitalised!”

“It doesn’t count as a hospital if it’s just in the house—”

“You were shot!” Timo gritted out through clenched teeth, his fists clenched at his side so tight that his knuckles were white. 

“Shot is a bit of an exaggeration,” you murmured under your breath. 

Timo turned on his heel, his eyes narrowed in a glare. “A fucking bullet went through you, how the fuck would you describe that?”

“An unfortunate occurrence,” you retorted despite Nico shooting you a look to behave, to not wind your brother up any further. “It hardly warrants the need of a babysitter.” 

“A bodyguard,” Nico corrected.

“Semantics,” you waved him off. 

“You were a part of a targeted attack against us,” Timo hissed, the vein on his forehead starting to pop out. “A bodyguard is exactly what you need right now.” 

“Everyone in this fucking room has been a part of a targeted attack,” you snapped back at your older brother. “News flash! It comes with the fucking lives we live! You are being far too dramatic over one little bullet wound.” 

“My mistake for caring,” Timo deadpanned. 

“It’s not the worst I’ve experienced and you know it,” you retorted, watching the boy’s mouth snap shut. You let out a sigh, a wave of guilt washing over you as you pushed yourself off Nico’s couch and walked closer to your brother. “I’m fine. I promise.” 

Timo opened his mouth.

“Timo,” you said in a softer voice, watching his shoulders drop. “Look, if anything weird happens in the next few weeks or if we have any reason to believe they will specifically attack me again, then I’ll agree to a bodyguard.” 

Timo looked conflicted. “Promise?” 

“Pinky promise,” you replied, grinning far too wide for someone who was barely allowed out of bed so soon. “Now, put your big boy pants on and go do something productive.” 

Nico’s brows furrowed together. “You know I’m the boss here, right?” 

“Send him somewhere far away for the week!” 

…

“You promise you’re okay?” 

“Geez, what are you, my mother?” You grumbled, your fingers dancing over the hangers on the rail as the boy followed behind you. “I’m okay. Doctor just said no strenuous activities.” 

Alex raised his brows. “Are you mentally okay? Emotionally okay?” 

“Forget my mother, are you my therapist?” You muttered, turning to look at the boy with narrowed eyes. “How much did Timo pay you?” 

Alex scoffed. “What makes you think he paid me anything?” 

“Because you never come shopping with me, let alone willingly,” you retorted with something quite triumphant in your smile.

“Yeah, well, shopping is a strenuous activity when it comes to you,” Alex grumbled under his breath, readjusting the countless bags and hangers in his hands. “I couldn’t let you hurt yourself any more than you currently are.”

You beamed, lightly patting his cheek. “That’s why you’re my favourite, Holtzy.” 

“Timo also threatened me,” he added, a small smile tugging on his lips when he saw you roll your eyes and turn back around. “He can be scary, even when he’s across the country.”

“Nico should’ve sent him somewhere further,” you sighed, shaking your head before turning your attention back to the dresses on the rack. “Speaking of, I thought Nico put you in charge of checking up on Peter.” 

“Jack and Luke wanted to take over,” Alex shrugged. “They wanted to make sure he was actually okay.” 

You pressed your lips together in a frown. “Is that even safe? Both of them to be seen with Peter?” 

“You think someone from Toronto is lurking in a bush outside the bakery, just waiting to see the three of them together?” Alex deadpanned, unphased by the look you gave him. He had been on the receiving end far too many times. “They’ll be fine. Nico wouldn’t have allowed it if it was unsafe.”

“Nico is also completely distracted by the fact Trouba supposedly wanted to meet to talk about some alliance or something,” you snorted.

“How do you know these things?” Alex questioned, his head tilted in curiosity. 

“I have my ways,” you grinned knowingly. “And I have my ways of knowing if you repeat any of this to anyone. Especially Curtis. He is such a gossip.”

Alex paused before nodding. “Yeah no, that is fair. You think he will take Trouba up on the offer?” 

“If the incentive is right.” 

“That was frustratingly vague.” 

“I know.” 

“Well, distracted or not, Nico would never let anything bad happen to Jack and Luke, or Peter by extension,” Alex said, sounding so sure of himself. “He has worked hard to keep Peter’s presence in Jersey under wraps. He wouldn’t let Jack or Luke ruin that, not when they were the ones who asked for it.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you hummed, waving him off. “You’re right. Blah blah blah. You done yet?” 

Alex rolled his eyes. “You asked.”

“Yeah but I was hoping you’d agree with me it was unsafe so we had an excuse to visit after this,” you retorted, flashing him an innocent smile over your shoulder. “Wanna split an apple pie?” 

Alex sighed but he agreed. 

…

Just like you assumed, the next two weeks passed without a hitch or whisper of another attack.

After Nico practically threatened to make Timo your round-the-clock bodyguard, you got the proper rest and care needed for your wound to mostly heal. You were still a little tender—and banned from your and Dawson’s weekly yoga sessions—but you felt close to your normal self, able to join some of the others on the less physical jobs, like visiting the factories and handling negotiations. 

Unfortunately for you, it was week three when disaster struck again. 

“I’m surprised Nico even let you step foot into this place,” you teased as you closed the car door behind you, finding the boy already rolling his eyes at you. 

“Sometimes a pretty boy has to do some dirty work too,” Jack replied, grinning boyishly as he looped his arm with yours before walking towards the warehouse. 

“Your ego truly astounds me,” you commented. 

“Says you,” he retorted, laughing as he tried to ignore your heel jabbing into his toes. 

It was a routine check-up, something that wasn’t meant to take longer than thirty minutes—forty tops, if you left Jack to do it alone and get distracted. But the shipment had just left and you needed to make sure nothing was left behind and assure no tracks were left behind. Nico preferred people close to him doing the checks. 

You had been mildly surprised that he sent you and Jack together, though, you had a feeling that the whole peace treaty with the Rangers was taking over Nico’s plate. 

“Everything looks good,” Jack said as he jogged back towards you, pushing some hair out of his face. “What about your side?” 

“All good,” you confirmed. “Let’s head back before Timo gets there. The dick made a bet with me that he would be back from Washington before us.” 

Jack paused. “Isn’t he meant to be staying the night?” 

You huffed. “Please, the boy has been like a fucking helicopter parent. Unless it’s on the west coast, he doesn’t like being away for a day because apparently something will happen to me if he’s not here.”

Jack shook his head fondly but his hand rested over yours, giving it a small squeeze. “He just cares, Candy.” 

You felt a flash of guilt in the pit of your stomach. “Jack—”

“Take it from a guy who lost a sibling, it isn’t fun,” he said, trying to smile and laugh through it but it fell flat. 

You frowned, not giving the boy a chance to run off before you wound your arms around him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you murmured softly. 

“I know,” Jack whispered, his arms wrapping around you in return. “He just wants to know you’re safe. God knows I’d freak out the same if it was Luke in your position.” 

“A pair of overbearing brothers you are,” you teased, pulling back with a softer smile on your face. “You’re a good brother. And a good friend.”

Jack raised his brows. “Wow, I didn’t even have to pay you for that compliment.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I meant you’re a good friend to Peter. How’s he holding up?” 

“A bit shaken,” Jack confessed as you both walked back towards the car, his lips turned downwards. “The damage to the shop wasn’t too bad, mostly just replacing the windows and cleaning up. But he’s freaked out that people are on his tail.” 

You hummed, nodding. “And you? How do you feel?” 

Jack couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “I’m not the one that got shot.” 

“Yeah but,” you paused, waving your hand around. “If Peter is freaked out—”

“Anything freaks him out,” Jack mused. “It was just a normal, run of the mill, everyday kind of event that happens when you’re in the mob. There’s nothing or no reason to believe it was anything but a fluke—”

BOOM!

You felt Jack’s body covering yours before you even realised you were on the ground. You managed to peek over Jack’s shoulder, your eyes widening at the sight of the warehouse—the same one you were inside mere minutes ago—bursting into flames that were growing and spreading and burning wildly. 

“Okay, I take it back,” Jack muttered, his eyes glued on the burning building. “Not a fluke. Definitely targeted. We are fucked.” 

You swallowed. “Dibs on not calling Nico.” 

…

“I knew it.” 

You rolled your eyes at the cock-sureness in your brother’s voice. 

“This is serious,” Nico spoke up, shooting Timo a look before he went on a rant—again. “That’s two attacks in three weeks. And we have no fucking idea who’s behind them. Or if they are even linked at all.” 

“It’s hard when we have a plethora of enemies,” Jesper deadpanned, raising his hands in mock surrender when Nico shot him a look. “Just saying.” 

“Stop reminding me,” Nico grumbled. 

“Guess we can cross the Rangers off our list though, right, Boss?” You teased, wiggling your brows despite the glare you were receiving. 

“Candy,” Nico sighed. “Your brother is right. I think it’s best to have a bodyguard around, just for the next few weeks until we work things out.” 

“Yeah because a bodyguard is sure gonna help when the building blows up, this time with us in it,” you deadpanned. 

“I’d be more observant than Jack,” Timo commented. 

“Hey!” Jack frowned. 

“Absolutely fucking not,” you quickly stood up, shaking your head. “You’re not going to be my bodyguard. I’m not having you hovering over me twenty-four-seven. You’re bad enough as it is.” 

Timo clenched his jaw. “Yes, I am—”

“No. She’s right. You’re not,” Nico spoke up, quickly interrupting you both. “But you are getting a bodyguard. Just to take precautions until we confirm whether you’re a target or if you just happened to be at the targeted places by chance. Maybe having another pair of eyes around you, someone who’s vigilant, will be insightful.” 

“I’m not five, Nico, I can take care of myself,” you insisted, your arms crossed over your chest. “A babysitter isn’t going to do anything other than be a nuisance.” 

“The bodyguard,” Nico corrected with a pointed look. “Is necessary and will not be negotiated.” 

“This is ridiculous,” you said to him. 

“And he’s going to be with you around the clock, always by your side,” Nico said. 

Your nose scrunched up. “No.” 

“Every shopping trip, every little run into town,” Nico continued. 

You could feel your skin prickling. “Nico—

“And I’m moving him into your room to sleep, armed and ready just in case,” Nico insisted. 

This time it was Timo who stepped in. “Woah, wait a second—”

“And I know the perfect guy,” Nico grinned. “Marino will be your bodyguard.” 

It was like a switch flipped in your head, your irritance and fight disappearing as you grinned at him. “Okay.” 

“I—” Timo narrowed his eyes at you. “Why are you suddenly okay with this?” 

“Because I know how to listen to my boss, Timmy, you should try it some time,” you grinned at your brother, patting his shoulder before you sauntered out of the office. 

“Stop calling me that,” Timo groaned as he followed you out. 

Jesper waited a few moments before your voices were clearly down the hall. “You did that just to stir some drama, didn’t you?” 

“Yup,” Nico answered quite happily. 

“Thank god, everyone was sick of the pining puppy dog eyes,” Jack grumbled from the spot on Nico’s desk he was sitting on. 

…

You had known John Marino for as long as you had been with the Devils. 

He was quieter than the rest, happy to linger in the corners of the room and observe everyone. It makes sense why Nico had chosen him as the role of your bodyguard, it was John’s nature to notice things most people missed. But, ultimately, it confused the fuck out of you. 

Because for as long as you had known John, you were also certain the boy didn’t like you. 

You could count on one hand the amount of conversations you shared with the boy, and even those conversations lasted thirty seconds at most. And for a majority of those thirty seconds, it was you talking and him saying three words in response, if even that.

You had eventually accepted the fact that some personalities just clashed, that maybe you were too loud or too energetic or too extroverted for John’s liking. You tried to tell yourself you were okay with it because, at the end of the day, he was still polite and curt with you. 

But you would be lying if you said a small part of you wasn’t offended that you were nothing more than a glorified acquaintance with John Marino. 

So really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone that you were going to use the next few weeks with him to get him to like you. Or figure out what the hell his deal was. 

“You think John hates you?” Dawson repeated, like that was the detail he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around in your whole plan. 

“Hate is a strong word,” you said in response. “I’m simply going to get him to come out of his shell a little. With me specifically.” 

“Not the kinda coming he wants to do with you,” Dawson muttered under his breath. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing!” Dawson quickly cleared his throat. He turned his gaze back towards the corridor the two of you were currently walking down. “How do you plan to get him out of his shell?”

“I don’t need a strategy to make friends,” you mused, grinning a little when the boy rolled his eyes in response. “My plan is to not have a plan. I am sure with the time spent together, he will eventually open up.”

“That still sounds like a strategy,” Dawson commented but you didn’t get the chance to reply, the door to Nico’s office swinging open and a beaming Nico taking the focus of your attention instead.

“Candy, brilliant, you’re here!” 

You blinked. “Yes, you asked me to be. You literally sent me a text ten minutes ago—” 

“Anyways!” Nico spun around, still grinning a concerning amount as he wandered back into the office, a few of the other boys already inside. “I don’t like the idea of waiting around for another attack to get answers.”

Jesper raised his brows. “Meaning?” 

“Meaning I want both attacks investigated separately so we can see if there are any dots joining,” Nico stated simply, leaning against his desk. “Bratter, you and Jack are on warehouse duty. I want to know everyone who stepped foot in that place in the last month.”

“Bit hard to do when the cameras blew up with the building but sure,” Jack grumbled.

“Candy,” Nico’s eyes shifted to you. “You and John will be on the bakery.”

“Is it really a good idea to send her back to the bakery?” Timo interrupted, stepping forward. 

“I’m not ignoring it for the rest of my life because of one attack,” you told him. “Me and Johnny can handle it.”

“Johnny?” Timo repeated incredulously before spinning around to find John, who was standing near the back of the room with a blank expression on his face. “Since when were you Johnny?” 

John only shrugged in response.

Timo’s eyes narrowed. 

“As I was saying,” Nico spoke up again. “This is how we are doing it.”

“What about the rest of us?” Timo asked.

“You have other jobs to do,” Nico said simply. “I am not putting our lives on hold over a few attacks. We continue everything else like normal. I don’t want it to get out that we are concerned over these attacks, they will make us look weak.”

Jonas’ lips twitched upwards. “And god forbid you look weak before you have the chance to woo the Rangers—”

Nico had elbowed him in the gut before he managed to finish that sentence.

…

“You’re staring.” 

You blinked, wondering for a few moments if you had imagined the boy speaking. The two of you had been sitting in your room for the better part of the last two hours, combing through the security footage from the bakery that Peter had sent you. 

And in that time, John had said two words, a simple ‘on it’ when you sent him half of the security footage to watch over.

Somewhere in that time, you found yourself sitting against your headboard, watching the boy sitting at your desk with narrowed eyes like you would somehow be able to figure him out through observation. 

Clearly, that didn’t work very well.

“Staring is considered a compliment,” you replied, watching the way his lips twitched upwards. You waited for him to turn around and go back to the footage, but you were surprised when he leaned back in his seat to look at you. 

“And are you?” He questioned, watching your head tilt in confusion. “Complimenting me?” 

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m wondering why you’re here.” 

John raised his brows. “You are aware you were shot a few weeks ago, right?” 

“Yes but you didn’t have to say yes to Nico,” you pointed out. 

John stared back at you for a few moments before he spoke. “I wanted to, Candy.” 

He didn’t give you the chance to reply before he turned back around, his focus returning to the hours of security footage he had been watching minutes before.

…

It took a little over three days to watch all the footage from the bakery’s security cameras just for it to come up with no leads. The warehouse was no better, with no real evidence or clues on who set up the attack. 

Nico was trying to keep a brave face and pretend like it wasn’t that big of a deal but you could see that it was unsettling him. Someone clearly had a target on the Devils’ back and the reason was unclear, which made it ten times harder to anticipate what the next move would be. And with the deal with the Rangers coming up, the last thing any of you needed was a weakness to be exposed. 

“We will figure it out,” Nico kept saying whenever it was questioned by some of the other members, the ones not as privy to the inner circle talks in his study late at night. “We will be fine.” 

You were pretty sure he was trying to convince himself of that fact too.

“We need to do something,” you said around a week after the investigation into the attacks began, lying on your bed with your head hanging over the edge. “How the fuck have we not found anything?” 

“Because whoever is behind it is good at covering their tracks?” Jack suggested from his spot beside you on the bed.

“Or because we are trying to catch them with little to no evidence,” John added, standing by the door of your room with his hands obediently behind his back. “You know, since everything was either burned or destroyed or has a million bullet holes in it.”

“Will you sit down? You’re stressing me out,” you muttered to him.

“No,” John stated simply.

Jack snorted. “He is jealous I took the bed.”

“I am not.” 

Jack shot you a knowing look. “He totally is.”

“There has to be something else,” you sighed, your eyes fixed on the massive pile of clothes you had thrown over the back of your desk chair. John had wrinkled his nose at all the sequins and glitter, a look which soured when you suggested he add some colour to his outfits. The constant all black was starting to make you feel angsty. 

“We’ve tried everything, bar kidnapping random people off the street and interrogating them,” John retorted.

“My plan was way more nuanced than that,” Jack insisted. “Stop making it sound dumb.”

“He can’t make it sound dumb if it is dumb,” you pointed out.

John’s lips twitched upwards.

Jack scoffed. “Since when did you two agree with each other?”

“Since you became an easy target,” you retorted, hissing when the boy reached over to pinch your arm. “Ouch, asshole.” 

“It was deserved,” Jack insisted.

You turned your head to look at John. “I thought my bodyguard was meant to protect me.” 

“Because Jack and his noodle arms are such a big threat,” John deadpanned.

Jack quickly sat up in bed. “Woah, now wait a second—” 

“It would take more than a second to fix your noodle arms.” 

Jack narrowed his eyes at the boy. “I do not know why Luke likes you so much.”

John shrugged in response. 

“Is Peter’s shop still under renovation?” You questioned, interrupting whatever weird staring contest the two of them were doing. The mention of his friend was enough for Jack to tear his eyes away from John to focus on you instead. 

“What? Yeah, they are,” he nodded with his lips turned down. “Why?” 

“Good,” was the only response you gave, quickly swinging your legs over the side of the bed as you sat up. Both boys looked at you with confused expressions, watching as you hooked the straps of your heels on one finger and reached for one of your coats with the other hand. 

John straightened. “What are you—”

“Hurry up, Johnny, we are leaving in five,” you stated, grinning when you noticed him let out a heavy sigh like he accepted the fact he wasn’t getting answers from you.

“What about me?” Jack called out.

“Don’t know and don’t care!” 

…

Peter’s Bakery was a cute and quaint shop that didn’t stand out amongst the others on the street. It fit right in with the friendly, homely neighbourhood and was a huge hit with the locals. It was a simple place, hidden right in plain sight. 

Despite the connection to the Devils, there was no reason for it to be targeted in an attack. 

“Eighty percent of Peter’s customers are locals,” you told John as you walked towards the bakery, your heels clicking against the cement in a melodic pattern. It was comforting, something to hold onto as memories of the last time you were here flooded to the front of your mind.

“So?” John questioned, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses he had slipped on before the two of you left the house. You could bet your bottom dollar that he was already analysing everything, probably had been since the second the two of you got out of the car.

“Ten percent are people from surrounding areas and the remaining ten are tourists from states excluding the ones in the immediate surrounding area,” you continued. “And the chances of the attacker being a local is slim to none so—”

“You think the person behind all this visited the bakery before the attack?” John finished for you.

“Bingo, Johnny,” you grinned at the boy, watching as he simply pressed his lips together. 

“And you think he is just going to remember every customer he interacted with?” John asked, the judgement clear from his voice. “We already combed through the CCTV footage, we know there was nothing weird—”

“That was on camera,” you pointed out. “They could have given a different vibe in person.” 

“A different vibe?” John repeated in a dubious tone.

“I don’t see you jumping with any better ideas,” you retorted as the boy just sighed in response. “Cheer up, Johnny, the ever present frown is going to give you wrinkles.” 

John didn’t get the chance to even try and respond before you were pushing the door to the bakery open. Despite the damage to the shop, the bell above the door remained intact and dinged as the two of you walked in. It was a mess, with cans of paints and planks of wood and tools sprawled over the place, but the vague smell of cookies still somehow lingered in the air. 

“Sorry, we are closed for—oh,” Peter poked his head out from the back of the store, his lips twisting into a smile when he saw you. “Candy, I didn’t know you were stopping by.” 

“We just had a few questions for Jersey’s favourite baker,” you smiled innocently. 

“We?” Peter repeated, his eyes glancing past your shoulder like he was noticing John for the first time. A look passed over his face before he cleared his throat. “Marino.”

“Perry.” 

“It’s Peter.”

“Whoops.”

“Play nice,” you pouted, lightly elbowing John’s side before turning your smiling face back to Peter. “Excuse him, he gets pissy if he misses his afternoon nap.”

John’s jaw clenched as Peter laughed. 

“Come on in,” Peter smiled back. “I’m all yours for the next hour before the builders come back from their lunch break.”

“How convenient,” John murmured under his breath, lifting his hands in mock surrender as you shot him a look before the both of you followed him into the back of the store. 

…

“So, that was useless.” 

“No surprise there.” 

Your eyes narrowed into a glare, your mood only souring further when you found the boy wasn’t even looking back at you. His gaze seemed to be glued ahead, his jaw still clenched like it had been the whole time you had been in the bakery.

“What is your problem?” You asked, wrapping your coat further around your body as the wind began to pick up. “You have been in an awful mood since we arrived.”

“I’ve been completely normal,” John answered. Those stupid sunglasses on his face were starting to piss you off. 

“You have not,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You were fine joking around with Jack back in the house but the second we left, you were in a downright horrible mood—hey!”

“Keep your voice down,” John grumbled, his hand now locked around your arm as he tugged you closer to his side. 

You let out a snort of laughter. “You’re funny if you think—”

“Someone has been following us since we left the bakery,” John said, his voice low and barely a muscle on his face moving as he spoke. “Lower your voice and follow me.” 

And for once, you listened. 

There was a growing temptation to look back. To just take a peek over your shoulder and see the face of the person who was following you, to try and get an idea of who it was. There was no coincidence that the two of you were being followed the second you left the bakery, the same goddamn place you were first attacked. 

You wondered if it was the same person. You wonder if they were the one that shot the gun that hit you. You wondered if—

“You’re spiralling,” John’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“Am not,” you retorted, but it sounded weak to your own ears.

“Lie better,” John insisted, his hand tightening around your arm as he spoke. 

It was like you could hear the footsteps behind you now, like they were loud and clear the second John had pointed them out to you. When you sped up, so did they. When you slowed down, so did they. They were matching your moves and following the two of you and the car was too far away and you couldn’t call for backup without alerting the person and—

“Shhhh, breathe for me.” 

You blinked before you even realised what was happening. Torn out of your own spiralling thoughts, you found yourself pressed against a wall, the cold bricks jabbing into your back but the comfort was the least of your problems. John was pressed up against you, not an inch of you exposed to the rest of the world as he kept you pinned between him and the wall.

You lifted your head to watch his side profile, watch the way he kept his eyes on the entryway to the alley he had pulled you down before you even realised what was happening. You watched the way his cheeks flushed pink, probably from the nipping weather (though it was hard to care about that when he was like a furnace against you). You watched the way he looked so focused, so in his element. 

It was hard to doubt Nico’s choice when you were seeing John do just what he did best.

“I think it’s all clear,” he eventually said, breaking the silence that had been lingering since he dragged you into the alley.

You swallowed harshly. “You sure?” 

“Have I given you any reason to doubt I wouldn’t take your safety seriously?” John asked, turning his head so he was finally looking at you. You watched him closely, watched the way his eyes darted over your face and lingered on your lips for a moment too long before returning to your eyes.

“No,” you replied honestly.

“Then there’s your answer,” he murmured, lingering for a few moments before he took a step back. “Let’s go back to the house.”

You tried not to think about how cold you were the second he stepped away. 

…

Things were starting to heat up with the Rangers deal.

Which, considering the faces of everyone in Nico’s study at that current moment, was incredibly fucking shocking. 

“You’re actually going through with it?” Jesper was the one to speak first, staring at Nico with wide eyes. “I thought we were just entertaining them to see what they want.” 

“Yes, and I listened and I agreed to it,” Nico said as he leaned back in his chair. “So we are going forth with the deal.”

“We have been fighting them for years,” Jack piped in, his brows furrowed together like he was trying to piece together a deal he didn’t even know the terms of fully. You weren’t even sure Nico knew the details of the deal yet. 

“Exactly,” Nico nodded. “And look how much we have lost, both of us. It’s time to turn a new leaf.” 

Jack flinched. 

You pressed a hand between the blades of his shoulders, leaving it there until you could feel the boy slowly start to relax under your touch.

“This isn’t sustainable for either of us,” Nico continued, though it was softer this time. “We need to start thinking about what’s best for the Devils.”

“And buddying up with the Rangers is the solution?” Jonas asked, no judgement in his voice (yet). Just curiosity.

“Not just with them,” Nico admitted. “I want to start solidifying our relationships.” 

And it was that exact reason that Nico decided to send you to Pittsburgh. 

The members of the Steel City mob were not ones the Devils knew well, nor did they have much of a history with. It was good, in the sense that there was no awkward bad blood to get over (read: like the current Rangers deal Nico was trying to pull). But it also meant there was no reason for either group to want a relationship.

Not unless you were Nico Hischier and Sidney Crosby, suddenly interested in creating an alliance that would somehow benefit both groups involved.

It was weird travelling with John. Usually when Nico sent you on missions like this, you were alone. On the off chance you needed back up, it would be Timo or Dawson or Jack by your side. It should have felt unsettling to have John, but it was comforting.

It was comforting to know he had your back, that you didn’t have to spend the whole trip looking over your shoulder. 

And it was better than when one of the others were with you. John let you take control, let you do the talking, let you sit across from Sidney and say what you wanted without trying to cut in or take over the conversation. 

It was comforting but also such a mindfuck to know this was all from the same boy who practically avoided you until a few weeks ago.

Where was this John before?

All in all, the meeting went well. There was still a lot to discuss, to negotiate, to consider. But it was the start to an alliance between the Devils and the Penguins, a welcome and positive start. And that was more than enough for an overnight trip. Sidney had even been kind enough to offer a place in one of the countless establishments owned by the Penguins.

“Two rooms?” He said like it was a nicety, rather than a fact he already knew.

“One,” John corrected, his face remaining blank as he spoke. But there was a hint of ‘no further argument’ in his voice.

Sidney’s lips twitched upwards. “One it is, then.” 

…

The hotel room was nice. More than nice, if you were being completely honest. 

It felt far too fancy for a single night’s stay but you assumed the Penguins were wanting to keep the good relationship going, to show they were serious, to show how well they could treat those they shared a good alliance with. It felt more like a studio apartment than a hotel room.

And despite it all, there was only one bed.

It had taken around thirty minutes of arguing before John accepted that the bed was large enough for you both to share for the night. He had been insistent he could use the couch by the window, that it was big and comfy enough for him. 

It made you want to scream. 

You didn’t get it. You really didn’t fucking get it. 

If someone had asked you a few months ago, you would have bet your life on the fact that John didn’t like you. He was clearly quite quiet and reserved, preferring to keep to himself. You would have assumed the reasons he stayed away from you were just that—that you were too loud, too out there, too flashy.

And then he became your bodyguard. And there were these moments where you thought you were seeing a different John, a John that you could get along with. A John that would maybe even be able to handle how loud and out there and flashy you were.

Until moments like this, moments where it felt like he would rather be anywhere but beside you. Where it felt like he was here out of obligation because of Nico’s orders. 

“Why do you hate me?” 

It had been over an hour since the two of you turned the lights off and settled down for the night. If you were being honest, you assumed he had fallen asleep a while ago but it still hadn’t stopped you from blurting the question out into the dark room, to get it off your chest before you felt like you would explode.

You hadn’t expected to feel him tense up beside you. You hadn’t expected him to still be awake.

“What?” 

You remained silent.

You could hear shuffling from his side of the bed. You wondered if he was turning to face you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look.

“Candy,” John said, his voice heavy with an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “What makes you think I hate you?”

“Because what else am I to think?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke. “You ignored me before this, before Nico told you to watch over me. You barely said three words to me in the years I have been here and—”

You cut yourself off. The silence remained for a few minutes and you wondered if he had genuinely fallen asleep in that time. You still couldn’t bring yourself to look.

“I don’t hate you,” John whispered. “I never did.” 

You let out a shaky breath.

“You were just so…you,” John confessed. “It was intimidating. I guess I didn’t think I was interesting enough.” 

You frowned. “What?” 

“I never said my reason made sense,” John retorted and you couldn’t help but snort a little. “I promise that I never hated you, Candy. Nobody could hate you.” 

You swallowed. “And I’m meant to believe that?” 

“I would never lie to you,” John said confidently. “Never have and never will.”

“Okay,” you whispered as you reached your hand back. It took a few seconds of patting the space between you both before you found his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “I don’t hate you either.”

“That’s reassuring.” 

“Goodnight, Johnny.” 

“Goodnight, Candy.” 

…

“We think we have found a link between the attacks.” 

“We?” 

“Apologies,” Nico corrected, letting out a sigh as Jesper glared at the side of his head. “Jesper thinks he has found a link.” 

“It’s a guess,” Jesper admitted after a few moments as the lot of you surrounded the map that was currently sprawled out over the length of Nico’s desk. “But it’s better than nothing.” 

“What makes you think they will even attack again?” Jonas questioned as he glanced between the circled locations with a frown.

“We don’t,” Nico answered.

“Well, we can assume they will try again considering none of the other attacks ended with what they wanted,” Jack spoke up, catching your eye as he sheepishly shrugged. “Sorry, Candy.”

Timo’s frown deepened.

“Each of these locations would fit their agenda,” Jesper said as he rapped his knuckles against the map before frowning. “If we have guessed their agenda correctly.”

“You will have,” you assured, squeezing the blond’s shoulder with a smile. “Good job, Bratter.” 

“We are going to have these locations on a constant patrol for the next week,” Nico said, frowning down at the map like he was already organising the patrol schedule in his head (even though Jonas would be the one to have a printed and laminated version on the notice board in the foyer by that very evening). “We are due another attack soon, if these people are sticking to a schedule.” 

“Dibs the club by the Italian place,” you spoke up, flashing Jack a grin where he let out an exaggerated groan. “Their garlic bread would be the perfect stakeout snack.” 

Nico opened his mouth but Timo was already talking before he had the chance to say anything.

“What makes you think you’re a part of this?” Timo asked with a frown.

You raised your brows. “Maybe the fact I am in this room right now.”

“No,” Timo shook his head. “Absolutely not. You’re not getting involved in this.”

“Timo—”

“You are one of their targets,” Timo gritted out between clenched teeth. “It would be fucking stupid to put you on patrol. We may as well hand you over on a silver platter.”

“You’re being dramatic,” you said. “I’ll be with John—”

“No, I am being realistic,” Timo corrected. “You’re staying behind. End of discussion.” 

You could feel your temper starting to rise, feeling that itch under your skin that was biting to fight back. “What? You suddenly don’t trust John?” 

“No, I don’t trust you,” Timo retorted, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “You’re a liability, Candy.” 

You froze for a moment before scoffing. “Wow. Wow.”

To his credit, Timo did look apologetic the second the words settled in the room. “Candy, I didn’t—”

“What? You didn’t mean it?” You let out a humourless laugh, shaking your head. “No, you meant it, Timo. You meant it just like you meant it in San Jose and look where that got us.”

A look of hurt flashed across your brother’s face. “That’s not fair—”

“Whatever,” you gritted out, stepping back when he tried to reach you and turning on your heel before anyone else had the chance to say anything. You turned and walked towards the door and kept walking, blood roaring in your ears and tears welling in your eyes with every step. 

…

“Got room for one more?”

John didn’t wait for your response as he settled down on the spot beside you. He glanced around, letting out a hum of amusement as he took in the full brunt of your wardrobe. It had been its own room at one point, before you had taken it over and connected it to your bedroom. Now, it was full of rails and shelves bursting with clothes and shoes in so many colours that John was surprised his head didn’t hurt the second he walked in. 

He leaned back against one of the set of drawers, laughing a little when he felt a couple of feathers brushing against the back of his neck. “Do you actually wear feather boas?”

Your lips twitched upwards. “I got them when Luke and Curtis bet fifty bucks that I didn’t have them ‘in my collection’.” 

John smiled a little. “So you have them to help Luke in a bet?”

You shot him a look. “Don’t be silly, I was helping Curtis win the bet.” 

John did laugh this time, a proper laugh that caught you by surprise. Not that he seemed put off by the way you were blatantly staring at him. Instead, he nudged his shoulder against yours and just smiled. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned your head against his shoulder. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” John asked in a soft voice. 

“I just…” You trailed off, trying to find the words to describe everything racing on inside your head. “I was just so pissed off and he wasn’t listening to me and I…I knew it would hurt. I wanted it to hurt.” You paused. “Does that make me a bad person?” 

“Maybe,” John whispered. “But I don’t think he was a great person at that moment either.” 

“I know the San Jose stuff upsets him,” you whispered, pressing your cheek further into the fabric of his shirt until his cologne and the vague scent of fabric softener was the only thing you could focus on. “He regrets it every day. He regrets that he left me behind that day, that he thought I was too much of a liability to go away with him.” 

John pressed his cheek against the top of your head. “What happened in San Jose wasn’t your fault or his. It was them. It was the Sharks and their twisted morals over there and—” 

“I’m his sister and I almost died because of a decision he made,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you spoke. “He will always blame himself, even if no one else thinks it. Even if he is the reason I’m alive now and we got out of there.”

John didn’t say anything. 

“Just like I will always blame myself for trusting them blindly,” you muttered, swallowing the words that felt like they were stuck in the back of your throat. “I forgot the basic rules of this life. I forgot then and I forgot when I was at Peter’s when the attack happened and—” 

“Candy,” John murmured, his arm winding around your body and pulling you further into his side. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

You pressed your face further into him, your tears beginning to soak the shirt he was wearing but he didn’t care. 

“You’re a force to be reckoned with, Candy,” John continued, his lips pressed against the top of your head as he left a lingering kiss. “None of it was your fault.”

You stayed silent. 

“And you’re not a bad person. You’re allowed to get angry and upset. You’re allowed to lash out.” John pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Your brother loves you and nothing will ever change that.”

John held you in his arms as the two of you sat on the floor of your wardrobe. He held you as you cried and cried until you couldn’t anymore. He held you until keeping your eyes open was too much. And then he carried you to bed, taking his spot in your room and letting the silence settle over the room until the next morning. 

The apology from Timo didn’t really come in the form of words, maybe because you and your brother both knew that more than words were needed. It was at the next Devils Sunday dinner. He didn’t say anything as he placed a box on your plate (a box you recognised with the logo of Peter’s Bakery) and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“We will never let them win,” he murmured, the same words he whispered that fateful night in San Jose before the two of you escaped. 

“Never,” you whispered back.

Timo just smiled, soft and genuine and just as forgiving as it was apologetic, before he settled down in his spot at the table.

He didn’t even say anything about John’s arm wrapped around the back of your chair for the duration of the whole dinner.

…

The days passed and still no attack came.

The deal with the Rangers was becoming more serious. Not that you doubted Nico’s word at all. It was just…rivalry against the Rangers was all you had known. You heard whispers about them when you were on the west coast. You saw the extent of their violence when you and Timo fled to New Jersey. 

It was hard to imagine a life where that violence wasn’t instigated, wasn’t retaliated against, wasn’t sought out. 

“It will work.” 

You raised your brows, watching the way Nico was nodding to himself as he glanced over the papers in front of him. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” 

Jack snorted. “More like Jesper. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea.” 

“He doesn’t trust them,” Nico corrected.

 “And, to be fair, they have given us no reason to trust them,” you added.

“Just as much as they should trust us,” John deadpanned, once again refusing to sit down as he stood left to your chair. 

“They need it as much as we do,” Nico pointed out. 

“What stock could they possibly need from us?” You questioned, watching the way the boy paused before clearing his throat. Your eyes narrowed at your boss, like it would be enough to see the thoughts whirling around in his head. “Nico, what did you agree to?” 

Nico let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “A marriage.” 

Jack blinked.

“A marriage?” You repeated, hissing. “Are you crazy? You want to join us to them forever like that?” 

“It’s an alliance, Candy,” Nico stated simply. “The idea is that it would be long lasting.” 

“But a marriage, Nico,” you shook your head. “They wouldn’t just accept a random marriage, not unless Trouba thought he could find a way to get into the top circle. Who did you offer up?” 

“Why? You offering yourself?” Jack asked, his lips twitching upwards. 

But the joke fell flat when John stepped forward, stepped closer to you. “No. She’s not.” 

Your eyes widened a little at the biting tone in his voice. “Hey—”

“You are not marrying any of them,” John gritted out through clenched teeth. “I refuse.” 

“You refuse?” You repeated, your head tilting as you turned to look at the boy in disbelief. “Pretty sure it’s my decision, Johnny.”

“Yeah, Johnny,” Jack said, his eyes glittering in amusement. Not that you could see it, with your focus now turned to the other boy. But John could see it. He could see it and could see the way Jack was actively holding back his laughter. “If Candy wants to marry one of Trouba’s men, then who are we to stop her?” 

John’s jaw clenched, an emotion you couldn’t quite read shining in his eyes. “No.” 

Nico sighed deeply.

Jack snorted. “You’re not even being subtle about it, bud.” 

You whirled around. “Subtle about what?” 

Jack simply lifted his hands in mock surrender. 

You turned back to look at John, a mix of emotions flooding through you when he failed to meet your eyes. “I thought you never lied to me.” 

“I’m not lying,” John said, his eyes locked on Jack, who was beaming in response. 

“No, he’s just omitting to tell the truth,” Jack retorted.

“Jack,” Nico said in a warning voice.

“Oh, come on,” Jack whined, turning to pout at the older boy. “We all know John is just—” 

“Enough,” Nico interrupted, shaking his head. “Go to Peter’s.” 

Jack frowned. “What?”

“I’m telling you right now to go stake out at Peter’s tonight,” Nico said—or, more accurately, commanded. “I want you to stick to the post for the rest of the night.” 

Jack opened his mouth to argue but noted the glare Nico was sending him and—smartly—decided to keep his mouth shut. He glanced between you and John, muttering something under his breath before he jumped off his spot on the desk and made his way towards the door.

“And just to be clear,” Nico spoke up before Jack could leave the room. “Candy is not the one marrying a Ranger. None of you are.”

John’s brows furrowed together. “So who is?”

“Me.”

…

You hadn’t said a word to John since the two of you left Nico’s study. 

It was one thing to make a deal with the Rangers. It was another for that deal to include an arranged marriage, something that seemed so archaic and old-fashioned for Nico’s taste. But for Nico himself to be involved? To tie himself to the Rangers in such a way? 

It was fucking mind-blowing.

You could only imagine the kind of girl the Rangers would offer to play the part of Nico Hischier’s wife.

But despite the revelation, your mind was reeling for a very different reason. And said reason happened to be just behind you, dressed in all black (no surprise there) and looking like a damn kicked puppy at the silent treatment you had been giving him.

John watched you with careful eyes as you swung the door to your bedroom open, barely acknowledging the small ‘ooft’ he let out when the rebound of the door almost hit him in the face. 

“Candy–” John started the second the door clicked shut behind him.

But you barely gave him the chance to continue, already spinning around on your heel to glare at him. “Do not even try it.” 

“I meant what I said when I told you I would never lie to you,” John said, staying rooted in his spot even though his stomach twisted at the hurt written across your face. “I have never lied to you. I swear on my life.” 

You watched him for a few moments, a muscle in your jaw ticking before you asked him something that completely caught him off guard. 

“Why did you take this job?”

John blinked. “What?”

“Why did you take this job?” You repeated, keeping your eyes locked on him as you took a step closer. 

“You know why,” John said, swallowing harshly. “You were a target and Nico appointed me as your bodyguard—”

“That’s not the only reason,” you said bluntly. “There is more to it. You know it. Jack knows it. Hell, everyone but me seems to know it. So what is the reason?” 

John let out a breath. “I can’t tell you.” 

You took another step towards him, eyes narrowed in determination. “Can’t or won’t?” 

John could feel his chest tightening. “Candy, please.” 

“You may not have been lying before but you weren’t telling me the truth,” you questioned, pausing when you were right in front of him. “Why did you take this job?” 

John shook his head.

“John,” you rasped. “Tell me.” 

He kept shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it will change nothing!” John frowned a little, clearing his throat as he lowered his voice. “Because I can’t do anything about it.” 

You blinked, confused. “What?” 

“Can we please just drop this?” John whispered, his voice cracking a little. 

“No,” you shook your head, determined. “What won’t it change?” 

John pressed his lips together.

You sighed. “Johnny—”

“Us,” John finally muttered out. “It won’t change us. It won’t change how I feel about you. It won’t change the fact that you’re you and you’re Timo’s sister and I shouldn’t want you but I really fucking do and—”

“Kiss me.”

John blinked, stuttering over his choked breath. “Candy, you don’t mean that.”

“Did I stutter?” You retorted.

“We can’t,” John tried again, but you could see his resolve crumbling. You could see the way his eyes dropped to your lips, the way they lingered on your mouth. 

“Says who?” You asked, watching as the boy failed to find a response. “Kiss me, Johnny.”

John waited one, two, three seconds before he surged forward, before his hands cupped your face and his lips were pressed against yours with a passion you had never experienced before. You barely had a chance to grip his shirt before he was tugging you closer, before he was tilting his head and deepening the kiss and moaning against your lips like it was the hottest thing he had ever done in his life.

In some ways, it was. 

Years of fantasies and feelings and thoughts and dreams lead to this moment. Years of John keeping his feelings hidden, keeping them locked away, thinking he never stood a chance. Years of him hopelessly pining and wanting and wishing. Years of just loving you just how you were. 

His fingers entangled themselves in your hair, tilting your head to match his pace as his other hand slid down to wind around your waist and pull you closer. He heard the little gasp you let out, felt the way you fisted the fabric of his shirt, listened to the little breathless ‘Johnny’ you sighed against his lips.

He felt feral. 

He hadn’t even noticed you slowly leading him deeper into the room, step by step, until your knees hit the back of the bed and you were dragging him down with you. Only then did the last few minutes seem to hit him like a freight train. He pushed up onto his elbows, chest heaving with soft pants and face flushed as he stared down at you. 

“Candy—” He started but you quickly placed your finger over his lips..

“I want this. I want you. I don’t want to hear whatever noble bullshit you have been telling yourself to hold yourself back. I just want you, Johnny,” you said, breathing heavily as your eyes lingered on his kiss-swollen lips before returning to meet his gaze. “If you don’t want this, then I get that. But only if you don’t want this. Nothing to do with my brother or some bullshit sense of morality or the rest of this damn house.” 

John swallowed, lifting one hand to slowly push some hair away from your face and tuck it behind your ear. You waited with a bated breath, watching as his eyes took in every single detail of you before he leaned down to kiss you—sweeter, softer than before.

“I want you more than you could ever know,” he whispered against your lips, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he spoke.

“Kiss me again,” you murmured, pushing your cheek further into his touch.

“Whatever you want, Candy,” John murmured before leaning down to kiss you again. 

…

The attack happened three days later. 

It was anticipated, just not on a warehouse you were expecting. The knowledge that the pattern you thought you had noticed was actually false laid heavy on all your shoulders, as the realisation of something much bigger than any of you were anticipating settled. This went beyond a few targeted attacks, this went beyond you. 

This was the start of a war, and even if none of you wanted to say it out loud, you were all thinking it.

“What now?” Jack asked as you all stood around Nico’s study, staring helplessly at the map laid out on Nico’s desk.

“We prepare ourselves,” Nico said, his voice sounding heavy and tired. You didn’t even blame him. He had been keeping on a confident front, letting the others think that they had this all under control because he couldn’t spiral. He couldn’t let them all think there was a reason to panic. You could only imagine how much harder it was getting with each passing day, with each attack.

Jesper raised his brows. “So you’re breaking the deal with the Rangers?” 

“No,” Nico shook his head, letting out a long sigh. It had been a recurring argument between the two of them for the last few weeks. “If this means what we think it means, it would be more beneficial to us to have the Rangers as allies.” 

“Unless they are the ones behind it,” Jesper retorted.

“I’m going through with the deal and that’s final,” Nico said, raising his voice a little. It wasn’t a lot. But it was enough for everyone else in the room to fall silent. “And if you keep being pissy about it, I’ll make sure you sit next to Timo at the wedding.” 

Jesper gaped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Nico’s eyes glimmered. “But I would.”

“Woah, why is that a bad thing?” Timo scoffed, looking between the two of them with a frown. “I’m a fucking delight.”

Suddenly, everyone else looked away. 

Timo’s frown deepened. “What? What is everyone not telling me?” 

It was at that very moment Luke walked through the door, foil packet rustling loudly as he shoved his hand in it and kicked the door closed behind him. He paused when he noted the tension in the room, glancing between everyone with pinched eyebrows.

“Damn, I didn’t know getting snacks for a team meeting was illegal.”

“Rusty!” Timo whirled around, his eyes gleaming. “Did they tell you too?” 

“Tell me what?” Luke questioned before his eyes widened. “Oh shit, they told you John finally grew a pair and made a move on Candy? Huh, you’re much calmer than I—”

“JOHN DID WHAT?!”

Luke paused, his lips parting in realisation. “Oh. Whoops.”

Timo whirled around to look at you and then John, seeming to finally notice the arm the boy had wrapped around your waist. He gasped loudly, shaking his head as he placed a hand on his chest. 

“And you all fucking knew? Oh god, the betrayal! It hurts! It physically hurts!” 

“I am not sitting beside that at the wedding,” Jesper said, shaking his head. “Look how dramatic he is being!”

“He will mellow out by the wedding,” Nico responded, looking far too amused by the theatrics playing out in the middle of his study. 

“It’s Timo. When the fuck as he ever mellowed out?” Jesper retorted with a scoff. 

You turned to find John watching your older brother with a pinched expression. It would have made you snort if you couldn’t feel the way he was gripping your hips, like he was ready to put you between him and your dramatic brother.

“Welcome to the family, Johnny.” 

John’s nose scrunched. “I take it all back.” 

You snorted. “Too late. No returns. You’re stuck with me.” 

“It’s not you I want to return,” John retorted, pulling you closer to him. “I’d do it all over again if I could be stuck with you for the rest of my life.” 

“Sap,” you grinned, looking far too pleased with his admission. “Even if you have to take on my brother?” 

John’s eyes softened as he turned to look at you. “Nothing could scare me away from you, baby. Nothing.”

You beamed. “Good, because you have about thirty seconds before Timo realises he has free will and a gun in his left holster.” 

There was a lot that was uncertain about the future, but you were pretty damn confident that John Marino was not one of them.

.

[mulloey]

1:43am

super soft dom!yunho x innocent subby!reader, kind of corruption, implied virginity maybe?? yunho is HUGE,, lots of praise #mulloey is beating the ‘only writes mean yunho’ allegations today!

rqs open :)

—

“that’s it.” it comes out as a grunt, his face flushed as he forces his way inside you. your walls are clinging to him, strangling really, and it takes every ounce of strength not to drop all pretence of gentleness and just fuck you senseless right here and now.

but you’re too sweet for that; the look in your eyes is too loving and innocent for him to possibly hurt you in that way. you’re sniffling, teary-eyed with wet lips as you suck his thumb like it’s the only thing keeping you from breaking. “oh, fuck,” he groans. “so tight f’me, aren’t you?”

you whine, shaking hands clasped around his arm as he stretches you open. “y-yuyu,” you gasp. “nngh, hurts..”

“i know, baby,” he coos. “won’t hurt for much longer, yeah? just be good and open up for me, i’ll take care of you.”

you’re trying your best, he knows you are, but you’ve never taken anything like him before. he curses under his breath; at this rate he’s going to cum before he’s even started moving. you’re just too tight.

“baby,” he says. “gimme my hands back, okay? need em to push deeper, honey.”

he pulls his thumb from your mouth; you don’t have time to whine at the loss before he picks up your own hand, pushing your smaller fingers past your lips. “there’s a good girl,” he says. “suck your fingers, sweetheart, i’ve got you.”

he presses both of his hands down on your hips, holding you still and steady so he can finally get all the way in. he feels the moment you relax around him; the loud, pained squeals soften into low, pleasured moans and he smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “there we go,” he coos. “you did it baby. i’m so proud of you.”

you grunt, squeezing your eyes shut. “yuyu, fuck— please move, i need—”

“sh, sh,” he smiles. “don’t worry, baby. i’m gonna fuck you now, gonna split you the fuck open. you want that?”

“please,” you groan. it’s muffled by your fingers still stuffed in your mouth and he can’t help but coo. he loves his pretty girl so fucking much. “please, yu. wanna— wanna feel you.”

“just relax,” he says. “don’t tense, pretty. just let me use you and you’re gonna feel me everywhere.”

—

didn’t tag ppl cus this is super short n im not sure if ppl would wanna be tagged in short things or only my full fics.. hope u liked tho!

(as a side note,, for all my girlies/whoever who have struggled to make it fit at first this one goes out to u:)) it’s a super normal problem, with my first bf it took me several months to be able to fit him in at all even tho he was average! not every ‘first time’ (or even times after that) goes as well as it does in fics so you could easily imagine this as being their 10th, 11th time trying this bc sometimes ur body just won’t cooperate with ur brain ! see a doc if it’s bothering you but it’ll get better<3 love🖤🖤🖤)

[ddejavvu]

Sugar daddy Hotch!!! I feel like he'd be the type of person to be like "Honey, I know that that's what these kind of relationships tend to be based on, but you absolutely don't have to have sex with me... I know there's an age gap, so if you don't feel comfortable..." and you're just standing next to him like. "Huh? Sorry I wasn't listening, I was too busy thinking about climbing you like a tree. Can we fuck now please?"

well i think realistically he wouldn't have sought out a sugar baby unless he wanted to have sex w them so i don't think he'd just give you free money but he absolutely is willing to let you get settled before you ever do anything. he'll start you off on a weekly payment and tell you to enjoy the first few and get comfortable with him, he promises he's not gonna show up at the door and take you on the couch before you're ready. meanwhile the first time you spoke on the phone with him you were ready, god you almost stuck your hand down your pants just hearing his deep, smooth voice.

the first time you meet he offers you wine and he promises that he won't do a thing if you end up getting tipsy and you don't even have to drink in the first place if you don't want to. you're more than happy to sip for some courage and you end up draped all over his lap on the couch. you're not even drunk you just want to be there. he thinks you're buttering him up because you think that's what gets you the money, and i mean, eventually yeah, but he's pretty content with taking it slow. he puts one of his big hands on your face and thumbs at your chin to hold it in place while he murmurs, 'you don't have to do this, y'know. the money is yours, just get comfortable for now'.

all you're hearing is 'blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff'. it's right then and there that you lean up to kiss him. maybe a bad time considering the fact that he's trying to ease you into things but you've wanted to take this man to your penthouse and freak it for WEEKS NOW. you'd admit that you'd have sex with him for free but you do also kind of need the money so you're at least going to make sure he gets what he's paying for.

[always-just-red]

Oh I forgot to add 😭😭😭 be it fluff like jelly sylus but fluff maybe he trying to make the mc jelly too ? I’m going wild with ideas, I will be quiet

(Part 1 of ask) FINALLY finished this fic oh my goshhh I've loved it so much but writer's block was my constant companion for this one 🫠 Thanks for your patience!! Sy is jealous but I'm still pushing my 'Sylus is the softest man alive and would die before hurting MC' agenda, so I had to get a lil creative! Hope I've pulled it off idk 😭😭

Be Mine

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus is getting a little tired of sharing you with the other men in your life (and he doesn't mean Luke and Kieran 🙃)

Genre: lil bit of angst, comfort and fluff

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, jealousy, other LIs mentioned, brief allusion to Raf's self-harm tendencies, cheating mentioned, some intimacy & kisses-- more soft than spicy!

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Sylus has spent centuries waiting for you, so he’s going to give you another minute.

Patience is not a virtue; it’s an old acquaintance he greets with a false smile whenever he’s forced to pass it on the street. Sometimes outside your building, whilst you’re chatting with a neighbour from the apartment above yours. Sometimes when you’re running late from a doctor’s appointment.

Patience has been cropping up a lot these days and gods, he’s sick of its face. Even now, it sits with him at this table for two as he sips at a glass that’s almost empty. There’s poetry in stalling, in savouring what’s left, especially as a waiter hovers anxiously nearby, anticipating the need for yet another refill (it would be the third).

Dregs of blood-red wine swirl with solemnity. Sylus is a patient man, a man who waits, but he doesn’t want to be. He wants the reward of it: the pot of gold at the end of that insipid rainbow. Hasn’t he waited enough?

He lifts his drink to his lips again.

“Sylus!”

They curve as he swallows the final drop.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, flinging yourself into the seat across from him so quickly that he’s cheated of the chance to rise and help you with your chair. “Sit back down,” you usher, because he had made a start on it, “really, Sy, I’m so, so sorry. Things at work just got crazy, and I—”

“You don’t have to explain, sweetie,” he smiles as he signals the waiter. He’ll have that refill, now, and he orders your favourite drink as you shrug off your coat and fumble with your bag, looking for something. “I’m more than familiar with the Association’s… dedication to a cause.”

You glance up with an amused smile. “We’re keeping you on your toes, huh?”

“Mmm. There is one hunter who’s proving to be a real thorn in my side.”

“You on top of that?”

“Most evenings, yes. Some mornings, too.”

You poke your tongue out at him. You’ve retrieved a compact mirror and you use it to study your dishevelled reflection. “Is everything all right at work?” he asks as you fuss over your hair.

“Yeah,” you puff. “Long story.”

“We have time.”

With a warmer smile, you stash your mirror away and sequester your bag by your feet. “You sure?” He gives you a look. “Fine,” you chuckle. “Basically, Xavier forgot to write up some reports. He’s been away on an ultra-secret, special mission or whatever—” you tap your nose conspiratorially— “which I didn’t just tell you, okay? But yeah, the reports weren’t done, and they were due tonight, so…”

Sylus raises an apathetic eyebrow. “He asked you to help?”

“Begged me, more like.”

Of course he did. The waiter arrives with your drinks and Sylus has never been gladder for a distraction. His mouth is full of pettiness, bitterness, so he drowns it with wine. You could have called. Texted. “So kitten’s been playing secretary, hmm?” he goads instead.

“That would imply kitten could keep track of time,” you pout, “so no. And speaking of playing a part—” you poke his nose— “you’re allowed to be mad at me. I should have called you. Texted. So let me have it, yeah? I feel bad enough already without you being all… perfect.”

You’re only teasing, but Sylus doesn’t feel perfect. He’s thinking about you working late with your partner, laughing at his jokes, poking him with your pen to keep him from falling asleep on his paperwork. He smirks, regardless. “What if I want you to feel bad?”

“Oh, gods,” you slump forwards, face-down on the table. “How long were you waiting?”

“Years.”

You fake cry into the tablecloth. “Don’t, Sy. Just tell me the truth. How bad was it?”

“Really, years,” he insists again, folding his arms on the table and sliding forwards, too. His chin is resting on his hands, and he blows at the top of your head. “Look.” Your face lifts so you can peer at him. He pinches his hair. “I’ve even gone grey, see?”

You sit up the tiniest bit more and your noses are almost brushing. “It looks nice,” you whisper.

“You think so?”

“Mmm. Suits you.”

Your eyes are every gem— every jewel in an illicit auction Sylus has to steal away from the rest of the world, because something that pretty just has to be his; it will find no worthier home than his hands. His devotion fills vaults. Aren’t they spilling with emeralds, rubies, sapphires, diamonds— those reckless imitations of your gaze? No-one else could deserve them, adore them like he does.

And they’ve nothing on the real thing.

Someone clears their throat and Sylus tracks the noise begrudgingly. The anxious waiter is back, clutching menus this time. You sit up fully, laughing to break the tension, and sure enough, Sylus feels less like hurling the man through the nearest window.

He’s still thinking about it though. He tells the waiter as much with a smile, and the menus are passed over with shaking hands. When Sylus says, “thank you,” it sounds like a bomb, ticking.

“Play nice,” you tut, once the waiter’s cleared the blast radius.

“Sweetie, when do I ever not play nice?”

You blink back at him disbelievingly. This should be good. “How about the time that you—?”

A familiar ringtone interrupts you, and your eyes widen in apology as you grab at your bag, rifling around for your phone. You find it— check the call and decline it— but relief is hiding, refusing to set foot on stage. Not yet, it confers to Sylus darkly, because it knows what comes next.

“Do you need to…?” he asks anyway.

“Nah, it was just Rafayel. Thanks, though.” You set the phone down. “Where was I?”

“You were about to tell me what a terribly bad man I am, sweetie.”

“Right!” you giggle. No, not yet. “So how about the time that you…” The phone rings again. You check it. Decline it. “How about the time that you—ugh!” It’s ringing again.

Sylus taps a finger on the table, impatiently patient. You can’t mute the wretched thing: the next call you miss would be a Wanderer, tearing through an orphanage or the like. It’s the reason you check, even when there’re no orphans at stake— just a pest of an artist with too much time on his hands.

Except… “Oh,” you say, glancing downwards, “it’s Zayne. I should probably—” Sylus gives a half-smile of blessing, but you weren’t waiting around for it— “hey, Zayne! I can’t talk right now, unless— Raf? What the hell? How did you get Zayne’s phone?”

You pull yours away from your ear as a string of whines come through:

“— ignore my calls, don’t even text me to ask what’s up, and then pick up his call right away? You hate me, right? Just say that you hate me, cutie.”

“I don’t hate you, Raf.” The phone is back to your ear. “I’m busy. Now seriously, how did you get— oh, hi, Zayne. Why is Raf…?” Sylus can hear a deeper voice answering your questions. “He’s at the—? Shit, is he okay? Ugh, tell him I can hear him. Tell him I know he’s not dying.”

You meet Sylus’s eyes as conflict erupts on the other end of the call. Sorry, you mouth as static filters through, interspersed with broken words and curses. The doctor’s voice prevails. “Yeah, Zayne,” you speak back to it. “I’ll call Thomas, get him to pick him up. Mmhmm? Oh!” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I forgot, he’s at that stupid art thing. Look, maybe later, I can…”

The artist’s shrill tone is protesting.

“I know it’s my job, Raf!” you counter. “But gimme a break, please. If it was any other night, you know I’d be there. Of course I wanna be there! But I can’t—”

It’s just a slip of the tongue— words you don’t even realise you’re saying— but Sylus still feels his heart sink. He hates it. A heart is so difficult to argue with: it’s long gone before you can talk any sense into it. He stands from the table, those priceless eyes of yours pursuing him. When you tilt your head, he musters a smile, then a weak excuse: “I’m just stepping outside for a moment.”

You nod, a follow-up question on the tip of your tongue, but then there’s a voice in your ear again— two voices— and you’re you, so of course you listen.

…

Sylus waits on a bench outside the restaurant, closing his eyes as he waits for his heart to come back.

It’s only been a few minutes. He’s thinking about your eyes, your nose and lips— an inch from his— and how he should have closed that gap before it grew treacherous. Shouldn’t he be done with this? This… longing? You’re his. You’ve told him you’re his, over and over again, but he finds himself needing to hear it once more; the ghost of your voice is starting to lack persuasion.

He is yours without exception, but you? There’s always a caveat. I’m yours, Sylus. But only so long as the city is quiet. I’m yours, Sylus. Until someone else calls. The door to the restaurant opens— he can hear it— but he doesn’t open his eyes. He wants to pretend.

I’m yours, Sylus. No caveats. No exceptions.

“Sylus.”

He swallows the dread in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” you entreat softly. His eyes open, and you’re wearing your coat, holding your bag. “I have to run to the hospital— it’s this whole thing. Raf, like, passed out or something. He’s not been eating again. Zayne said when something like this keeps happening, it’s a sign that… yeah. He just… needs someone. And he hasn’t got anyone else, you know?”

“I understand.” You’re worried about your friend. That’s all it is.

Why can’t he believe that’s all it is?  

You come over and sink down on the bench beside him, looping your arm through his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Don’t you know that he’s afraid? That a selfish, spiteful part of him wants to hide you— with the rest of his treasures— away from the light, so he can love you in the dark?

There’s a sigh as you lean against him, savouring his touch like the wine one swirls in a glass when their thoughts are elsewhere. It’s gone in a mouthful; you check your watch, and he hopes it’s bitter.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

No, he would rather be sweet for you, but look at you— making him lie. “I’m okay,” he says, and it doesn’t have a drop of conviction. He’s tired of philanthropy.

…

“What are you gonna do? Come on, tell us. Tell us! What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know, Luke. Give me a second, okay? Jeez.”

You literally just got here. Your pace is brisk and the night air still clings to you— you shed a layer of it by peeling your arms out of your coat. Luke and Kieran are close behind, keeping to your heels like terriers hoping you’ll trip with a plateful of food. They’ll take even a crumb at this point.

“You gonna fight him?” Kieran nudges, but your lips stay tight.

“Oh, you’re so gonna fight him,” Luke takes away from the silence.

You don’t know what you’re going to do. You’ve reached a decadent lounge, lavished with black and gold, and you throw your coat over the arm of a chair before starting to wrestle off your combat boots. You’ve been off work for hours, but it doesn’t feel like it. One call-to-duty after another; first the hospital, now this.

Mephisto caws in greeting from a nearby perch. “I’m not gonna fight him,” you say as your second boot drops with a clunk. “I just need to—”

“Say no more,” Luke cuts you off. “We want in.”

With a tired sigh, you gaze up at the twins at last. Kieran is readying a fist: punching his hand softly, the beak of his mask low and threatening. Beside him, Luke swings a baseball bat over his shoulder. He didn’t have it a second ago. Where did he even—?

You put your hands on your hips. “You guys got a death wish or something?”

“Yes!” they enthuse together, nodding excitedly.

You haven’t got time to ask. Your focus drifts to Sylus’s bedroom door, where music is leaking with honeylike light. You can’t count the number of times you’ve fallen over that threshold, exhausted— always slightly broken. You want to crawl into cool silk sheets and a warmer embrace, but there’s one small problem.

The text that had brought you here, anxious and out of breath:

Boss is with someone.

“What’re you thinking?”

You’re closer to the door, now, and Luke’s whisper makes you jump. You spin, twisting the bat from his fingers and pushing him back until the tip is pressed to his throat. “Get back,” you hiss, before levelling the weapon at an encroaching Kieran, “both of you.”

Luke leaps behind his brother— swinging him between you for protection. The baseball bat stays hovering, and Luke peeks over Kieran’s shoulder, swatting at it like an indignant kitten.

“Stop it,” you scold, poking back at his hand and his masked face. “Begone!”

“Yes, boss!” Kieran goes to move, but Luke is holding him in place. He’s dragged backwards: a human shield until they can both scurry around the turn of a corridor.

You smile fondly. You forget, for just a moment, that you’re alone and full of uncertainty. The song in the next room lulls, at its inevitable end, and then you can’t forget. You’re stood in silence, staring at a door you’ve never had to knock before. Another song starts up.

Whatever this is, you can handle it.

You use the baseball bat to tap against the dark wood. “Sylus?” you call.

He makes you wait. You can hear him, moving around— unmistakably taking his time— but you don’t mind. You’re running scenarios through your head. Is he in on this, too? Or…?

He opens the door and oh, he definitely is. His silk robe hangs haphazardly over his figure, one side threatening to slip from his shoulder and the belt dangerously loose at the middle. A flush is tinting his face, spreading down through his neck, past his collarbone and lower, you think, but you’re trying not to look.

“Sweetie,” he purrs in the way that tells you he’s up to no good, “what a pleasant surprise.” His eyes flit downwards. “And you’re armed, too.”

There’s a breathlessness to the observation, and your ability to breathe briefly eludes you as well. His hair is damp and unkempt, his skin warm, his gaze hot. Is this a test? It feels like a test.

“Are you alone?” you snap, because he’s clearly put some thought into whatever it is, and you’re a good sport, so you’ll play along.

“No,” he says, but then: “You know you’re always with me in spirit, kitten. Even if not in—” another downwards glance— “body.”

“Sylus.”

“Mmm?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time.” You catch his chin with your free hand, forcing his gaze back to your face. “And I want a real answer.” He swallows thickly. “Are you alone?”

His submission is fragile. He lifts his hand, wraps his fingers around your wrist like a reminder of the fact. “Careful, sweetie.” His grip tightens as his voice drops. “Think about what you’re asking.”

“I know what I’m asking.” You snatch your hand free and step closer. “Get out of my way.”

Sylus narrows his eyes, but soon relaxes. He sweeps a hand through his hair, chuckling as he obeys— moving aside to let you past. You storm through, looking over every visible inch of his room. There’s nothing to see, of course. No clothes that aren’t yours pooled over the floor. No lover wrapped up in his bedsheets.

“Just what exactly are you looking for?” he asks smugly behind you.

“Save it, Sylus.” Your pretend patience is gone. “The twins told me everything.”

So you start searching more strenuously. You make your way over to his bed, baseball bat slung over your shoulder as you check behind the far side— even stooping to peek under it. You open the wardrobe. Nothing. Use the baseball bat to push back the curtains, letting in more blood-red moonlight. Nothing. You huff in frustration.

“You know, don’t you?” Sylus says quietly.

He’s leant against the doorway, arms crossed, and you spare him a glance. “Know what?”  

“That there’s no-one here.”

It sounds like defeat. “I’m taking this very seriously, actually,” you dismiss as you roll open the drawer of his bedside table, where no-one is hiding. You move on to even more absurd places: lifting flowers out of their vase to glance about inside it, peering into the horn of his vintage gramophone.

You’d hoped your antics would elicit at least a short laugh, or a scoff of amusement. There’s nothing, though, so you plonk onto the bed— defeated, yourself— and look to the man as you set your weapon down.

He looks back with an insincere smile. “How did you know?”

“That you weren’t really with someone? Because you’re you, Sylus. The key to a good prank?” Your fingers twinkle in the air beside your head. “Believability. Besides—” now a forefinger taps at your temple— “nothing gets past this.”

“Your ego?” he guesses with a smirk that is sincere, if nothing else.

“My brain, Sy.”

“Ah.”

Your ego— tsk. Your feet are dangling from the bed, playing with a slipper they’ve fished out from underneath it, and you have half a mind to launch it at him. This doesn’t feel like one of your usual games, though, and you’ve had a whole ride through the N109 Zone to figure out why.

“I really hurt you, didn’t I?” you speak like a confession, staring down at the floor so you don’t have to meet his eyes. “That’s what all this is about, right? You wanted to get back at me for dinner?”

“No, I—”

“I get it.” Your feet find the second slipper. “I do. I mean, it was a really shitty thing to do— walking out on you like that. Especially after you waited for me. You went to all that effort, and I— ah.” You’ve toed one of the slippers out of reach.

“Allow me,” comes a voice that’s suddenly close. Sylus’s figure looms over you before he’s crouching, kneeling by your feet. He still looks like a mess of sin, but he’s gentle as he retrieves the slipper for you. Removes your socks for you. Slides a slipper onto each of your cold feet. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he mutters.

You let out a sigh. “Sylus.” You’re scolding him, and he gazes up at you, his eyes garnets of adoration only you could afford. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I know, sweetie.”

“So why won’t you tell me how you feel?”

He sits back on his knees, his thumb drawing circles on the inside of your ankle. The ministrations are mindless, and so are his words: “How I feel is not important.”

“Of course it is!” You pull away from him. “Don’t say things like that.”

“But I thought I could tell you anything, kitten.”

It’s a nick from a blade that could do much worse; he wants you to feel how sharp it is. His smile is a warning and he’s waiting for the hunter in you to strike back, because violence is what you’re good at. What you’re both good at. It hurts, but it’s easy.

You shift forward on the bed. “Sylus… you don’t need to protect me. Not from you. Not from anything you feel. I want you to be happy, to tell me if you’re unhappy. I don’t need you to—” your fingers skirt over his chest and you falter inexplicably— “to sacrifice yourself for me.”

Sylus looks down to where you’re tracing the shape of his heart on his skin. He lets out a long, beleaguered breath, then leans closer to you, his head turning away as he settles it on your lap. Your hands find his hair instinctually, threading through it in slow, meandering motions.

“I want you to be mine,” he admits on another sigh.

He can’t see you smile, but he’ll hear it in your voice: “I am yours, Sy—”

“No— just mine.”

He won’t make it a demand. Even asking you nicely has him breathless and still, like the drawn-out pause of a finished symphony. Your hands stop moving, out of respect for the quiet. You’re remembering the times you’ve been late out of your building because you’d stumbled into Xavier in the lobby. The doctor’s appointments that always overrun, and Rafayel’s ‘emergency’ phone calls.

“Come and sit with me,” you mumble, patting the bed beside you.

When Sylus does, it’s with the same reluctance a cat surrenders a sliver of sun. Lazy and listless— still warm from the light. The bed sinks under his weight and you turn to face him. His robe’s collar has fallen further, so you hook a finger under it to draw it back up to his neck. Then you straighten the lapels, smoothing them over distractedly.

He’s watching your face, not the movements of your hands. Your cheeks feel warm. “I was speaking to Rafayel earlier, and we—”

A groan, and Sylus is no longer at your fingertips; he’s flopped down backwards on the bed, his hand over his face. You can’t help giggling— you’ve broken the big, bad boss of Onychinus, it seems. Is that all it takes? You grin as you lie down with him, settling on your side, propped up on an elbow. He doesn’t stir when you fix a few stray strands of his hair.

“We talked about boundaries,” you continue. “How I can’t be on call twenty-four seven, and how he’s going to take better care of himself, so I don’t have to be.”

Sylus has moved his hand, ever so slightly.

There’s more: “I’m gonna call in sick to work tomorrow. I made a deal with Xavier, that’s why I stayed late today. He’ll cover for me.” You shift closer. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I know I can’t always be with you, but I am always thinking of you, I promise. You’re always with me in spirit, Sy, even if not in—” you press a quick kiss to his chest— “body.”

He chuckles at the words, or maybe the touch tickled.

You grin down at him. “I’m yours. Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“No! Ugh, just—” Smart-ass! You flick his forehead as he laughs quietly. “Not the words ‘I’m yours’, say that I’m—”

His hand is at your face, pulling you in so he can kiss you. It’s slow and it’s patient; he’s taking his time, and you won’t slip away. You can feel his smile. “You’re mine,” he murmurs when he finally withdraws. One more kiss, lighter, on the tip of your nose. “Just mine.”

Always. You let him pull you into an embrace, snuggling into his warmth like you’ve been wanting to from the moment you last left it. You can hear his heartbeat beneath the lullaby of his breath. “Sy?” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

“You look really hot when you’re pretending to cheat on me.”

He scoffs, but a yawn comes before his response. “Don’t get any ideas, kitten.”

Your quiet is pensive. “I have this lunch with Zayne later this week. I really should text him to find out—”

The grip around you constricts, and a voice is in your ear, soft and possessive:

“What did I just say?”

[satellite-evans]

Hi! Could I please request a one shot where Harry is sick maybe during tour and his gf has to take care of him? Thank you! I love your writing!

a/n: thank you so much for liking my work, it truly means a lot! it's a little short but I still hope you'll like it <3

sick on tour

The hotel room is quiet except for the noise of the air conditioning and the occasional sniffle from the lump of blankets curled up in the middle of the king-sized bed. The curtains are drawn, shielding the bright city lights outside from intruding on the peaceful, dimly lit space. Harry has always liked his hotel rooms cozy—candles on the nightstand, his favorite hoodie draped over the chair, and the softest pillows he could find. But tonight, none of it seems to bring him comfort.

You stand at the edge of the mattress, arms crossed, watching Harry sulk into his pillow. His curls are a mess, sticking to his slightly damp forehead, his nose a little pink from the fever, and yet—despite looking absolutely miserable—he’s still trying to convince you he’s fine.

“I can do the show,” he rasps, voice hoarse and scratchy. He attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, but the movement sends him into a fit of coughing. You sigh and press a hand to his chest, gently urging him back down.

“Baby, no. You can barely sit up.”

He frowns, brows knitting together like a petulant child. “S’just a little cold.”

“You have a fever, a sore throat, and you sound like you swallowed sandpaper,” you point out, smoothing your fingers over his clammy forehead. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Harry grumbles something incoherent and burrows further into the pillows. You can tell he hates this—hates being taken care of, hates being seen as anything less than strong. But the thing is, to you, he’s always strong. Even now, curled up in a nest of tissues and blankets, he’s still the man you love more than anything.

Tour has been brutal on him lately. Night after night of performing, giving his all to the crowds that adore him, leaving every ounce of himself on that stage. He never complains—not about the exhaustion, not about the jet lag, not about the toll it takes on his body. But you see it in the way his shoulders slump when he thinks no one is looking, the way his voice is a little more raw each morning, the way he clings to you just a little tighter when he finally collapses into bed at the end of the night.

“I can’t cancel, though,” he whispers after a long moment, his voice laced with guilt. “They’ve probably spent so much money—flights, hotels, tickets, clothes and waited months just to see me. I can’t let them down, I just can't.”

You soften, understanding where his frustration is coming from. Harry has always carried the weight of his fans' happiness on his shoulders, always put them first. It’s one of the many reasons you love him—but right now, he needs to put himself first.

You take his hand in yours, rubbing slow, comforting circles over his knuckles. “Harry, sweetheart, I already spoke to Jeff. He and the team handled everything. They put out a statement, rescheduled the show, and made sure the fans know how much you care about them Not that they need a statement anyway. They know how much you love them.”

His brows furrow. “You—”

“I took care of it,” you interrupt gently. “So you don’t have to worry, okay? The fans love you, but they love you healthy and not sticky. You can’t give them the show they deserve if you push yourself too hard now. That is not what they deserve.”

Harry lets out a slow breath, his tense shoulders easing just a fraction. He still looks guilty, but there’s also relief in his tired eyes. “You really talked to Jeff?”

You nod. “Of course. Your health comes first, baby. Now please let me take care of you."

You slip out of the room quietly and return with a damp cloth, gently dabbing it against his forehead. The coolness makes him sigh, his tense shoulders relaxing under your touch. Then, you hold up a spoonful of honey-laced tea to his lips. He scrunches his nose but accepts it, swallowing with a soft grimace.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice slightly clearer now.

You smile and brush your fingers over his cheek. “Of course, my love.”

After making sure he’s warm enough, you reach for the small bowl of soup on the nightstand that you kindly asked form the hotel staff. “Just a little, H. You need something in your stomach other than medicine.”

"The fans would've probably ask for me to sing medicine tonight but they can't because I need it. The irony." He said, trying to lighten the room up with a joke but cough wave that crushed him once again.

"Drink Harry." You said sternly.

He looks at you like he wants to argue, but he knows better. You lift the spoon to his lips, and after a moment’s hesitation, he leans forward and takes a bite. A small, content sigh escapes him, and you can’t help but grin.

“You’re good at this,” he mutters, sleep beginning to weigh heavy on him.

“I'm just good at loving you lovie,” you reply simply, brushing back his curls as he lets his eyes drift shut.

His fingers reach for yours under the blanket, giving them a weak squeeze. “Love you more.”

You sit beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his fever-warmed temple. “Just rest, my love. I’ve got you.”

And with the way he sighs, relaxing into your touch, you know he believes you.

Tomorrow, he’ll probably try to argue again. Try to tell you he feels fine, that he’s ready to get back out there, to put on another show. But for tonight, he’s yours to take care of. And you wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

[semisasseater]

I don't like how you paint me― se-mi

⤷ Yet, I'm still here hanging

pairing : gf!se-mi x fem!reader | genre : angst, hurt, romance for 1 second, drama| warnings : hurt, eavesdropping, self-doubt + insecurity, implied emotional neglect. | summary : Se-mi’s apartment had always felt like home to you—until you overheard her conversation with Min-su The words cut deep, shattering the sense of belonging you thought you had. Heartbroken, you leave without a word. | wc: 1,174 | authors note : guys i have something to say.. i fucking LOVE gabby also do yall fw the new layout?

if you enjoyed likes or reblogs would be amazing! feedback is appreciated also requests are open!!

Se-mi’s apartment had always felt like home to you. Maybe that was your mistake.

Your hoodie hung on the back of her chair. Your toothbrush sat next to hers in the bathroom. Your makeup cluttered the counter, your perfume lingered in the air. Every little thing made it seem like this was your place too, like you belonged there just as much as she did.

But you didn’t. Not really.

Not after what you heard.

It was supposed to be an ordinary night—one of many spent by her side. You had been talking, laughing, feeling the warmth of her attention. But when you went to grab a drink, you stopped in your tracks at the sound of her voice.

“No, Min-su, you—ugh. You just don’t get it. She’s just… how do I say it? Too clingy.”

Your heart stopped.

Min-su’s voice was hesitant. “Noona, don’t you think that’s a bit rude?”

“I know it sounds rude and stuff, but she acts like a fan. She’s obsessed with me! Name one time she lasted a week without sleeping over at my house. Almost all her clothes and makeup and shit are at MY place! Why can’t she just—I don’t know? Min-su, I already have a lot on my plate right now! I don’t need a clingy girl just hanging around my apartment like she lives there! She’s always coming without my permission and shit! She’s too much, she’s annoying, she always—”

You didn’t stay to hear the rest.

You turned on your heel and walked out before you could hear another word.

Did she really think that?

Like a fan? Like an overbearing nuisance?

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you swallowed them back. You couldn’t fall apart here, not in front of people, not when you needed to move.

You hailed a cab and went straight to her apartment—the apartment that was supposed to be your second home. And the moment you stepped inside, you saw just how much of yourself you had left there.

Clothes in the closet. Shoes by the door. Your favorite mug in her cabinet. Your books on her shelves.

God. No wonder she felt suffocated.

For the next hour and a half, you packed. Every little thing that was yours, you shoved into bags. One by one, her apartment stopped looking like yours and started looking like hers again. When you were done, there were four full bags of your belongings sitting by the door.

It finally looked like Se-mi was living alone.

Just like she wanted.

You stood there for a moment, forcing a smile despite the way your heart ached. You were being ridiculous, right? You were clingy. You were overbearing. You had practically moved into her space without asking. This was your fault, wasn’t it?

Your phone buzzed.

You looked down and saw her name flashing across the screen, dozens of unread messages filling your notifications.

“Y/n? Baby? Where are you?”

“Y/n, where did you go?”

“Baby, this isn’t funny.”

“You said you were just getting a drink. Where are you?”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Please come back.”

“Did you go back to the apartment?”

Your grip tightened around the phone. How ironic. She was acting worried now, like she hadn’t just been complaining about how much she wanted space from you.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

Instead, you walked.

The 30-minute walk back to your own place felt longer than ever. By the time you got home, exhaustion weighed on your body, but the ache in your chest hurt more. You took a shower, scrubbing yourself clean, washing away the scent of her that still clung to you.

And then you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, silent but unstoppable.

Did she ever love you the way you loved her?

Was it all just too much?

The buzzing of your phone woke you at 1 AM.

More texts. More missed calls.

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell me you left?!”

“Who picked you up?”

“Why’d you take your stuff? I was fine with it being here.”

“Y/n, just please tell me how you’re doing. I’m really worried.”

“Please, baby…”

“Y/n… I’m confused about all of this. You left the party randomly, then you took all your stuff back. What’s wrong?”

You laughed bitterly through your tears. What was wrong? Really?

You stared at the screen for a long moment before typing.

“I heard you.”

And then you turned off your phone.

You needed to change.

You needed to be less.

Less clingy. Less needy. Less overbearing.

Even if it hurt, even if it meant suppressing everything, you would do it.

If it would make Se-mi happy—

If it would make her stop seeing you as a burden—

If it would make her love you again—

Then you would.

Even if it broke you.

@semisasseater

[juniperskye]

Come bother me, baby.

Based on the following post: Inspo  you are the bane of young Aaron's existence - back when he was just an agent under Gideon and Rossi. A pain in his ass…so when you transfer to avoid your feelings for him, he begs you to come back. Okay listen, I know that Hotch didn’t really work under Rossi in the beginning, as Rossi had already left…but we’re all gonna pretend for the sake of this fic. Also – Haley just never existed in this, and that’s ok.

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 4164

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, female reader, she/her pronouns, age gap (Hotch is 28 and reader is 25), some explicit language, canon typical violence, mentions of case details, reader has experienced the loss of her parents, mention of holidays, mention of food/eating. Mention of reader being a mom, inaccurate timelines, let me know if I missed anything!!!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

July 1993

The year was 1993, Jason Gideon and David Rossi were just granted permission to hire two agents to expand the team. They agreed that they would each pick an agent, that way there’d be no room to argue. They interviewed a total of 17 potential candidates, 13 of those were interviewed by Rossi and the other 4 by Gideon.

Aaron Hotchner had been the 7th file in Rossi’s stack, it was an impressive resume, one that was filled with cases he’d worked as a prosecutor, and then a number of cases he’d worked as a profiler in the Seattle Field office. He now was here in Quantico, Virginia, hoping to gain a spot on the BAU. To Rossi, Aaron had stood out amongst the others, he’d sat through all 13 interviews, and nobody could match the passion for this position like Aaron had. It had been an easy choice.

You had been the 2nd file in Gedeon’s stack, and honestly he’d been let down by his first candidate…so when you walked in, more than qualified for this position, he excused the other two candidates.  He didn’t feel the need to interview them, his gut told him you were the right choice. Your file had been padded with your numerous degrees varying from bachelor's degrees in psychology and criminology, to a master’s degree in forensic psychology, ending with a PhD in psychology. For the last year you’d been working in the Phoenix field office as a profiler. And while you didn’t have a ton of field experience, Gideon had been thoroughly impressed with your tenacity and overall enthusiasm for the profession.  

--

September 1993

Things had started off okay…mostly. Aaron definitely treated you like you were a child, though you were only three years younger than him. While you’d spent a lot of time expanding your knowledge of this field, Aaron had worked as a prosecutor immediately after his completion of law school. You weren’t sure why he thought he was so much better than you…you were a doctor after all.

It had started in the most dismissive way possible. You’d accidentally spilled your coffee at the round table, it had spread fast, covering his copy of the latest case file. You apologized immediately, offered him your copy while you went to print another. He shook his head at you, muttering something along the lines of you being young and unprofessional.

You had thought about going to Gideon to complain but ultimately decided against it. It would only make him see you as more of a child. So, you’d worked your ass off to prove yourself, you needed to show him that you were an asset to the BAU and not a liability.

--

May 1994

“I think this unsub is female.” You stated confidently.

“Are you insane?” Aaron scoffed.

“Before you completely dismiss me Hotch, hear me out.”

“Don’t call me that.” He hissed.

You had to physically wipe the smirk from your face before explaining your theory to the team. You’d pointed out how meticulous everything had been, how much care had gone into the murders and the disposals.

“If we really break everything down, it’s all done with so much care. The bodies haven’t just been dumped, they’ve been cleaned, redressed, and neatly placed in beautiful locations. The field of flowers, the hillside, by the art installation at the park.” You’d gestured to the photos pinned on the corkboard.

Looking around you could see the impressed look Gideon was wearing, it was bordering smug as he turned his gaze over to Rossi with a nod. Rossi couldn’t do anything other than shrug – you’d made a good point, who was he to question your expertise. But then there was Aaron…he was looking around in disbelief, nobody was even going to question it?

Aaron was pissed that you had been right. Three days after that briefing, you taken Helena Murphy into custody. She had lost her siblings in a car accident when she was in her teens, and a recent fender bender had been her trigger. She’d been taking the lives of young people who had resembled her siblings and laid them to rest somewhere beautiful…unlike the highway guardrail that had ultimately taken her family from her all those years ago.

Gideon and Rossi both gave you kudos for narrowing down the profile the way you had. The police officers at the Milwaukee PD had congratulated you and subsequently thanked you for your hard work. Aaron wouldn’t even look at you.

Needless to say, the flight home was tense.

--

August 1994

“Ugh it is soooo hot!” You whined, fanning yourself with a loose manila folder.

“Would you stop that?” Aaron asked.

“Stop what?” You feigned innocence.

“Bothering me! Your fanning is blowing all my papers around, just cut it out.” He huffed.

“Sure, thing Hotch.” You offered a sickly-sweet smile.

“Don’t call me that!” He shook his head and continued his report.

You stood from your desk and removed your blazer, showing off the fitted tank top you’d been wearing underneath. You made your way up to the kitchenette to retrieve some ice water and the ice pack from your lunchbox. At this point, you’d do anything to cool off.

You sat back down at your desk, sipping the water and crunching on the ice, while shifting the icepack from your chest to your neck. Aaron was so distracted by your constant moving that he had to speak up again. But as his gaze landed on you, he was rendered speechless…only for a moment, but it was enough time for him to notice the way the condensation from the icepack had dripped down your chest and when you slid it back to your neck, he could see the effect the could had on your breasts. His throat went dry.

“Stop messing around, it’s distracting.” He ordered.

“You’re no fun Hotch.”

“Would you just stop bothering me? You’re doing it on purpose now.” He sighed.

“Oh, fine.” You conceded.

--

November 1994

You made your way into the FBI building, hanging on one arm is your go bag, packed and ready to go. On the other arm is your purse, struggling to stay up on your shoulder as you held onto a basket filled with baked goods.

“Happy Holidays Jim!” You greeted, handing him a loaf of pumpkin bread.

“Thanks doll, you too! Did you get called in?” Jim, the head of security, asked.

“No, not yet anyway. I just figured I’d stop by.” You shrugged.

“You weren’t celebrating?” He questioned.

“Oh, um no, not this year.”

“Well doll, thanks for the pumpkin bread. Happy thanksgiving.” Jim smiled.

You made your way around, passing out different backed goods to people you saw every day, Maureen the receptionist, Mike from IT, and Sandra who was the director’s assistant. You’d even gone as far as bringing something for the BAU team members in the event that you did get called in.

Speaking of…

Gideon rushed into the bullpen of the sixth floor, in his haste he nearly missed the slight step down into the main section of the floor where your and Aaron’s desks sat. He was ferociously pressing the buttons on his pager – surely sending a page to the team informing them of the newest case.

Your suspicions were confirmed when yours beeped from your desk, drawing yours and Gideon’s attention.

“Jesus, I didn’t realize you were here. What are you doing here already?” Gideon asked.

“No reason to celebrate…I thought I could make myself useful here.” You shrugged and offered Gideon a container of gingersnaps.

“Thanks kid. Can you go get the files from Anderson?” Gideon requested.

“Of course, sir.”

Aaron arrived next; shock evident on his face when he saw you coming back from retrieving the files. He was about to make a snarky comment about you being here so early when Rossi came in behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.

--

The four of you were on the plane heading to Oklahoma, you were seated next to Gideon, going over the file, passing theories back and forth. Aaron was sat next to Rossi, stewing in a feeling the bordered annoyance.

“I can feel the steam blowing out of your ears.” Rossi teased.

“Sorry I just don’t get it…she got there so fast. She just – she just bothers me.” Aaron huffed.

“She was already there kid, she was at the BAU before Gideon even got there, he told me.” Rossi explained.

“What do you mean she was already there? Why would she have been at the office already?”

“I assume to keep herself busy. She lost her parents when she was in college, so she doesn’t really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with. She brought everyone at the office treats.” Rossi smiled, popping another bite of his banana nut muffin into his mouth.

“I didn’t know. That’s uh-that’s…” Aaron didn’t quite know what to say.

“Check your bag Hotch.” Rossi smiled and went back to his file.

Placed neatly in the outer pocket of Aaron’s bag was a cellophane bag containing snickerdoodles, his favorite. A red ribbon tied the bag closed and attached to it was a small note…

Sorry for bothering you all the time. Hopefully these can make up for a little bit of it.

Aaron took a bit of one of the cookies., rolling his eyes because, of course, they were perfect. He couldn’t help but feel bothered by your inability to be bad at something.

--

February 1995

You hated valentine’s day, it had always been a sore spot, all your friends swooning over the overpriced chocolate and roses that their boyfriends would get them. Not you though, you hadn’t received a valentine since freshman year of high school when Mathew Smith taped a rose to your locker. Matt had been nice and all, but he was looking for something…unserious.

You got yourself dressed and dragged yourself to the BAU. Everyone was so chipper as you entered the building, greeting you…but you met the majority of them with a scowl. Stepping off the elevator and going over to your desk, surprise overcoming you as you’re met with peonies and a pack of razzles. You moved them around, trying to find the note, coming across a yellow sticky note.

I thought these could be repayment for the pens you got me for Christmas.    -Hotch

You smiled at the signature, he’d hated when you called him Hotch, you’d been the first to do so and he was annoyed at how unprofessional it had initially seemed, he’d tell you not to call him that and claim you bothered him on purpose, but as Rossi and Gideon joined in with the nickname, he slowly grew to like you…it!

Aaron sat at his desk, plopping into his chair with a sigh. Your gaze lifted to meet his, a timid smile gracing your features.

“Hotch”

“Don’t bother me today.”

“Thank you.” You smiled.

“Don’t mention it.”

--

May 1995

May and June had become your least favorite months of the year. After losing your parents, you thought Christmas would be hard, and it was…but you’d found friends in school who would celebrate with you.

It was Mother’s Day and Father’s Day that killed you. People didn’t invite their orphaned friend over to celebrate those holidays with their family because…well because that’s weird.

These two months brought with them the painful reminder that your parents were gone.

Truthfully, you’d been glad to get the page letting you know that a case came in, it would have been a welcomed distraction…if it hadn’t been in your hometown.

Aaron could see how tense you were. He was trying to profile you, figure out what had you so worked up. He knew this time of year had to be difficult for you, seeing as Rossi told him you lost your mom. But he could tell there was something deeper, rooted within you.

It took some time, but after sitting back and observing, he figured it out. A few different officers knew you by name and were on a first-name basis with you. You’d been extremely familiar with the layout of the city, not needing directions to the location you’d gone to earlier. This must be your hometown.

--

“Alright guys, nice job today. So, we are flying out first thing tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Rossi said.

You were slow to pack up, gathering your things, chatting with a few of the officers before heading out of the precinct. You didn’t really know what to do, you didn’t want to go back to the hotel, but you also didn’t want to go around town. You had too many memories here, it was too hard to go around and picture all the times you had with your parents around here.

“Hey, you want to go for a drive with me?” Aaron asked

You couldn’t even mask the shock as it etched its way across your features.

“Sure.”

At first you had no idea where Aaron was heading, the drive feeling unfamiliar…but then all at once you’d figured it out. He was driving to Blue Grove Cemetery.

“What the hell are you doing? Why are we here?” You questioned, anxiety lacing your words.

“Look, I can’t imagine how hard it must be to go through May and June, now that they’re gone. I thought it might be nice for you to see them before we head back tomorrow.” Aaron explained.

So many feelings were running through you. Initially anger, why would he blindside you like this. But then that morphed into panic, you didn’t want Hotch to see this side of you, the weak and vulnerable side. But lastly was this weird warmth…it was slow moving like molasses, sticking to every part of your body.

--

Aaron parked and let you control the pace. He waited to move until you reached for the handle on the door, slowly exiting the SUV. You stood there, still, unmoving, unsure if you could do this. Aaron grabbed a bag out of the back seat before walking around to meet you where you stood.

“I’m sorry, I – I don’t…”

“Hey,” Aaron placed his hand on your shoulder gently. “Take your time.”

You nodded at him gratefully.

Eventually you began to move, leading Aaron through the cemetery. You’d passed headstone after headstone until you came to a stop at their gravesite, resting just below a beautiful tree, offering just enough shade to allow you respite from the heat.  

Aaron laid out a small blanket, letting you sit first, hesitating for a beat.

“You can sit…please.” You asked, more than told.

Aaron sat next to you silently. He pulled the bag in front of the two of you, removing its contents, a sandwich cut in half, a bag of kettle chips (your favorite) and lastly two diet cokes. As you watched him, you smiled, you may bother him once in a while…okay all the time…but he cared. Whether he’d admit it or not.

The two of you sat there, eating, enjoying the cool breeze that the afternoon offered. After some time had passed, you found yourself telling Aaron about your parents. How your mom loved to bake, and she would tell you that food brought people together. You told him how your dad did everything himself, he never called in a specialist for everything.

Aaron chimed in with how you’d clearly taken after them and it made you an incredible profiler…and there it was again, that warm feeling.

You’d recognized it… it was the same feeling that bloomed within you on valentine’s day, and before that, on Christmas. You’d bought hotch these really fancy fountain pens he’d mentioned in passing and he got you a coat, a nice warm one, since you didn’t seem to own one.

This warm, sticky, sweet feeling was rearing its ugly head…and you were pretty sure it was called love.

--

July 1995

That warm feeling had burrowed its way deep into your core and you were freaking out. You’d been doing everything you could to act normal around Hotch, you were worried you’d been failing miserably.

“I think your agent has a crush on my agent…” Rossi said to Gideon, peaking out the window of his office.

“That’s interesting, because I am pretty sure your agent has feelings for my agent.” Gideon challenged.

“Do you think they’ll figure it out?”

“Not any time soon.”

--

You flicked a paper football over your screen onto Hotch’s desk. He glanced up at you, only his gaze didn’t hold its usual annoyance, instead there was something that mirrored amusement written there.

“Are you trying to bother me some more?” Aaron asked.

“Um, yes. That’s my job; to bother you…didn’t you get the memo?” You teased.

“I must have missed that one.” He let out a breathy chuckle.

You went back to your report, working diligently. All of two minutes passed before the paper football knocked against your hand as it landed on your desk. You laughed and shook your head gently, there was that stupid feeling again.

--

October 1995

Your knuckles rapped gently against Gideon’s office door. You were shaking, your stomach twisted at the thought of what you were about to do. It had taken you a little while to figure out the best option…knowing that it wouldn’t be professional to continue working with Hotch with these feelings you had for him.

You’d looked at all the openings here at Quantico, trying to figure out which position would best suit you. Ultimately, counterterrorism was looking for someone with a background in psychology, so it just made sense. Which brings you to now, you were about to go into Gideon’s office and request the transfer.

“Come in.”

“Hey Gideon, I uh…I need to talk to you about something.” You stumbled a bit.

“Go ahead.” He gestured to the chair opposite him.

You sat, taking a steadying breath. “I’m requesting a transfer. To counterterrorism.”

“No.”

“Gideon, you-”

“No.” He began. “I am not going to sign a transfer request for you, especially not to counterterrorism, you have exceptional skills, and we need them here.”

“Gideon, I have to transfer. I feel – I have…” You trailed off as your eyes found Aaron beyond the window in the bullpen. “I can’t work with him, not when I feel like this.”

Gideon took a deep breath, looking at you and taking in the longing gaze you wore. He didn’t fully understand what thoughts were running through your head, but if this is what you felt you needed to do, he wasn’t going to stop you. You were a very strong and capable agent…he trusted your judgement.

“How much longer do we have you here at the BAU?” He asked waving for you to hand him the paper.

“Two weeks.” You sighed. “I’m sorry Gideon.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re smart and you need to do what is best for you.”

--

November 1995

“Alright guys we have a case, round table in five.” Rossi called out into the bullpen.

You gathered your things, knowing you wouldn’t be travelling with them for this case. You figured you’d sit through the round table, offer a few theories and then let them go on their way.  Aaron watched you slowly grabbing a legal pad and your signature pink pen, he chuckled grabbing his own paper and one of the fountain pens from the set you bought him.

“Before we begin I just want to say that I am so proud of how you have grown and flourished with this team, and while it is a huge loss for the BAU, counterterrorism is lucky to have you.” Gideon stated, looking at you.

“What? You-you’re transferring?” Aaron asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“When…when are you leaving?” He asked.

“Today is my last day.” Your gaze shifted to your lap.

“We can talk about this later, let’s go over the facts of the case.” Gideon demanded.

Through the entire briefing Aaron’s eyes were burning into you. He couldn’t focus on the fact of this case because he was completely hung up on the fact that yours wouldn’t be the face across from him anymore…you weren’t going to be there to flick paper footballs at him, or to hum songs all day, to crunch annoyingly on baby carrots. Who was going to bother him if you were gone?

After you finished going over the case, you couldn’t help the sting behind your eyes, slowly realizing that this was it, your time at the BAU was done. But you held your head up high and steeled yourself. You offered Gideon a handshake, Rossi pulled you into a tight hug, and Aaron…well he brushed by you with a curt nod.

--

Aaron was miserable throughout the entirety of the two weeks they were away on this case. He was moping, and it wasn’t going unnoticed. Rossi and Gideon shared a knowing look, thankful that he was finally figuring it out.

They hadn’t quite expected it to take him so long to do something about it.

--

December 1995

The bullpen was so quiet without you. Aaron felt uneasy; he was the only one in the center of the floor now that you were gone. His file going long forgotten as he sat back and thought about things for a bit…

When he first saw you, you’d entered the elevator at the same time for your interviews, you’d offered a quiet thank to him for holding the elevator for you and he couldn’t deny then how cute you were. But then you’d both been hired on as profilers and he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to think that anymore, so he shoved the feeling down.

Then you spilled your coffee all over the table, effectively ruining his file, but you’d cursed, burning your hand as you quickly tried to clean it up. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and tell you it would be okay, so he fled.

It was so many things after that, your intelligence and the passion you had for profiling. Your baking, always noting people’s favorites and bringing them sweets, just to see them smile. The way you listened, remembering something he’d brought up in passing and gone out of your way to order his favorite pens.

Oh shit. He was in love with you. He’d fallen in love with you and had been too stupid to realize it.

--

Aaron moved with a purpose, rushing through the FBI building, making his way up the two flights of stairs it took to get to counterterrorism. He burst through the door, drawing attention to himself, his eyes frantically scanning the room in search of you.

He moved forward, noticing you across the room. He reached you in a few long strides, stopping just before you.

“Hotch…what are you doing here?” You looked around, blushing profusely.

“Sweetheart, you need to come back to the BAU.”

“I can’t…Aaron I-”

“I know that I have given you no reason to believe this, but I love you sweetheart. I need you to come back to the BAU, come back and bother me, baby.”

“No.” You shook your head in disbelief.

“Well yes.”

“Aaron, no.”

“Yes! Come bother me, baby. Bother me for the rest of my life.” Aaron begged. His hands reaching forward to cup your face.

“Okay” You gasped.

Aaron pulled you into a kiss, the agents surrounding you erupting in cheers for the both of you.

--

Bonus scene – May 2016

“Happy Mother’s Day sweetheart.”

“Happy Mother's Day mom!”

“Thank you guys!” You smiled, feeling nothing but joy looking to those who surrounded you.

Before you was your incredible husband and your three children, two sons and a daughter. They had gotten up early to make breakfast for you before they headed off to school. There had been a bouquet of peonies, cards, and a pack of razzles.

“Jack, are you okay to get Zoey to school today? We got called in pretty early.” You asked.

“Yeah mom! I have practice though, so Jason and Zoey might have to hang out a while.”

“Don’t worry about that bud, Will offered to pick them up when he picks up Michael.” Aaron patted Jack on the shoulder.

“Alright kids, we will see you later, be safe and please text me when you get to school!” You called, heading out the door with Aaron hot on your tail.

--

Aaron and you made your way into the BAU hand-in-hand. You glanced around at this team you built together, and you couldn’t be happier. Aaron made his way toward his office, noticing you’d stopped and before he could say anything, Dave clapped him on the back.

“Leave her be. She’s admiring this family you’ve built together.”

You looked over to where Aaron and Dave stood, offering a bright smile. You then made your way down to the floor, greeting Emily, JJ, Derek, Spencer and Penelope.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[gracie-eilish]

Could you please do something where reader is like super introverted but comfortable around billie (cuz they're dating 😛) and one day reader is just yapping so much like ranting, but then she realizes she's talking a lot and gets embarrassed and starts to apologize a bunch but billie finds it absolutely adorable when she gets passionate about things since its not too often she does it?

an: thanks for the requestttt babyyyyy:) i hope i like itttt🧡🧡🧡

Heart Eyes😍

It wasn’t often that you talked this much.

Billie knew that.

She knew you were quiet, introverted—the kind of person who preferred listening over speaking, who felt more at home in the background rather than the spotlight. She never minded. If anything, she loved it, loved the way you opened up just enough for her, how you never felt the need to fill the silence when you were together.

But sometimes… sometimes when you two were alone, you got carried away.

Like right now.

You weren’t even sure what had started it. One moment, you and Billie were curled up on the couch, her fingers lazily tracing patterns against your thigh, the two of you basking in that warm, easy silence you always fell into. And then—you started talking.

It was something small at first. Maybe a comment about a show you had been watching, something that had been bothering you about a certain character.

“I just don’t get it,” you huffed, shifting against the cushions as Billie let out a small hum of acknowledgment. “Like—why would they build up this whole storyline just to throw it away? Do they not understand how character arcs work?”

Billie smirked, eyes flicking up from where her head rested against your shoulder. “Oh no,” she teased. “Here we go.”

You shot her a playful glare, but that only encouraged her grin.

“I’m serious, Billie!” You sat up a little straighter, suddenly feeling the need to gesture as you spoke. “They spent three seasons setting this up! And then what? They just—throw it away like it’s nothing?” You scoffed, hands flying in frustration. “What was even the point? It’s lazy writing, that’s what it is. They had so much potential, and they ruined it!”

Billie watched you with an amused glint in her eyes, her lips twitching like she was holding back a smile.

“I mean, tell me I’m wrong,” you pressed, turning to her expectantly. “You know it was bad. Like, objectively bad.”

Billie finally let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, babe, I’m not about to argue with you. You’re on a roll right now.”

That only fueled you more.

“Exactly! And it’s not even just this show—writers always do this! It’s like they don’t trust the audience to appreciate a slow-burn arc anymore.” You sighed dramatically, running a hand through your hair. “Like, God forbid they actually develop their characters instead of just rushing to wrap things up in the most unsatisfying way possible.”

Billie let out another hum, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles against your knee. “Mm, sounds like someone should just write their own show.”

You paused, considering. “Honestly? I could do a better job than half these people.”

Billie snorted. “No doubt.”

“I’m serious!” You shifted to face her more fully, your expression animated. “If I ever wrote a show, I’d actually respect my characters. I wouldn’t just throw out their development for shock value.”

Billie’s grin widened. “Oh, I believe you, baby.”

You went on, too caught up in your thoughts to notice the way she was looking at you.

“And another thing,” you continued, “it’s like they don’t even watch their own show. How do you write for characters you clearly don’t understand? How do you spend years creating something just to betray the entire foundation of what made it good?”

Billie bit her lip, watching as your hands gestured wildly, your eyes practically glowing with passion.

You barely stopped to breathe, completely wrapped up in your rant. “And don’t even get me started on how they completely sidelined the best character. Like, hello? They deserved way more screentime—”

Then, suddenly, mid-sentence—

You froze.

Your face went hot, your stomach flipping as you realized just how much you had been saying.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, your hands immediately retreating to your lap. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

You turned to Billie, half-expecting her to look overwhelmed, or maybe even a little annoyed.

Instead—

She was staring at you.

Like, full-on staring.

Her blue eyes were impossibly soft, lips slightly parted, and if you weren’t mistaken—her cheeks were a little pink.

She looked completely entranced.

“Billie?” You blinked, suddenly very aware of how quiet the room had gotten. You shifted under her gaze, ducking your head as embarrassment settled in your chest. “I was totally rambling, I—I didn’t even let you say anything. I’ll stop now.”

But then Billie melted.

Like, literally melted.

She let out the softest little sigh, her entire body going warm against you as she reached forward, cupping your face with both hands. Her thumbs brushed over your cheeks, her expression so stupidly in love that you felt even more flustered.

“Are you kidding?” she whispered, her voice dipping into something soft, something almost dazed.

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. “W-What?”

Billie’s smile was slow, her lips curling at the edges like she couldn’t contain it.

“That was adorable.”

Your stomach flipped.

Your lips parted, but before you could even think of what to say, she was already leaning in, pressing the softest, most lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” she murmured, her nose brushing against your skin as she pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “You never talk that much, and I swear I have actual heart eyes watching you right now.”

You made a noise in protest, your face burning. “Billie—”

“No, seriously,” she insisted, grinning now, her fingers sliding down to gently cradle your jaw. “You were so passionate, I could feel how much you cared, and—ugh, you’re just so cute.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Stop.”

Billie giggled—an actual, breathless little giggle.

She pried your hands away from your face with ease, tugging them into her lap before lacing your fingers together.

“Why are you embarrassed?” she teased, tilting her head. “I loved it. Love when you talk like that.”

You chewed on your lip, still trying to process the ridiculous amount of fondness in her eyes. “…You do?”

Billie sighed dramatically, squeezing your hands. “Baby. I love everything about you.”

You exhaled slowly, the warmth in your chest growing until it was almost unbearable.

Billie beamed, looking entirely too pleased with herself. “Now—go on.”

You blinked. “What?”

She grinned. “Keep talking. I wanna hear more.”

Your heart stuttered.

You hesitated, but the way she was looking at you—the way she was practically soaking up your every word—it made the nerves melt away just enough.

So you did.

You kept talking.

And Billie listened.

She held onto your every word like it mattered, like you mattered.

And maybe, just maybe—

You’d let yourself get carried away more often.

[vettelsvee]

Hi love! For your tortured poets department, can I request endgame from the reputation album, lando being the driver please please 🙏

END GAME | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Friend with benefits Piastri!Reader

SUMMARY: You were used to have random hookups just for fun, including with Lando Norris himself. It's not until he decides to lock both of you up on his driver room and talk about your weird relationship that you don't realize that, deep down, you're willing to settle down your mind and start a dating him ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it 💖 Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT

WORD COUNT: 2745

WARNINGS: Slightly +18 at the end (sorry for leaving it there ☺️), mentions of friends with benefits, spelling with multiple people, angst, curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Haven't written Lando in a very, very long time, so hope you like this one! University and my mental health are killing me but you know what? Writing is what keeps me going (and specially your comments have been a boost of serotonin for me lately). Also... the 2k special is already living rent free in my mind and I can't wait to achieve the goal to post it 😭 I wanna give spoilers now so... you know 🤓 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

"You finally decided to show up at a race. I was starting to think you only liked having me naked in your bed behind your brother’s back."

You smiled at the screen, playing with your fingers as you thought how could you answer Lando. Your relationship was based purely on sex, moreover sexting, with barely any real conversations whenever you met, moans and orgasms speaking for you both instead.

You had never felt the need to go beyond that, to involve feelings in your relationship, or at least that’s what you had made clear to Lando before sleeping with him the very first time. You also let him know that, besides him, there were other guys with whom you had no commitments whatsoever.

However, it was with Lando that you spent most of your time. The others were nothing more than a safe escape, an easy way out when the Brit wasn’t around.

"Be grateful that I even came," you finally replied. "And don’t flatter yourself. I came to see my brother, not to make you come before a race."

You hesitated, wondering if your reply was harsh enough to keep him from getting any ideas and, more importantly, to stop him from insisting on meeting up. You weren’t sure how, but you wanted to end that strange relationship before it spiraled out of control because, whether you wanted to admit it or not, you had started to feel something for him.

Yes, just a few weeks ago, you had one of your usual encounters with a friend of one of your best friends. But everything fell apart when, right before reaching your climax, you couldn’t help it: you moaned Lando’s name instead.

That was what made you question what exactly you felt for Norris and why the label of friends with benefits seemed to be fading away.

"Don’t play dumb, Piastri. See you at the motorhome. You know exactly where."

You huffed. Of course, you knew exactly where you’d be meeting. After all, ever since your brother became a Formula 1 driver, you had visited his teammate’s personal room more than Oscar’s.

With a sigh, making sure neither your mother nor your sisters were nearby, you got up, grabbed the plastic cup that still had a bit of coffee left, and walked with as much determination as you could muster toward McLaren’s motorhome, finishing your drink along the way.

As you walked, mentally preparing a script in case things got tense with Lando, you greeted the people you knew, or at least those who knew you as Y/N Piastri. Lewis was genuinely happy to see you and even stopped to chat, but you excused yourself, saying you had already made plans. Fernando gave you a knowing look, as if trying to figure out what exactly you were about to do with a certain driver.

Even your brother crossed paths with you at the entrance to McLaren’s motorhome. You managed to lie to him, partially, saying Lando had asked you to take a few pictures of him before the race.

Oscar gave you a strange look, then rolled his eyes, offered a small smile and told you to enjoy whatever it was you both were about to do.

You said nothing, but you knew your twin brother well enough to realize he already had a pretty good idea of what you were up to with Norris. Not that you tried too hard to hide it.

When you reached Lando’s room, you didn’t even have to knock. The door opened instantly, revealing a slightly tired-looking Lando with a cup in his hand. His race suit was already on but zipped only to his waist, leaving the top half hanging loose. His team cap was still on, though it didn’t last long since he took it off and tossed it aside within seconds.

He grinned from ear to ear, like he had been waiting for you with far too much anticipation.

"Come in. Make yourself at home," he said with that mischievous tone you were so used to hearing, though something about it felt slightly different this time.

You walked inside without hesitation, crossing your arms and ignoring him, except for the occasional sideways glance to see if he would do or say something before you did. Unfortunately, he didn’t.

"If you wanted a quick fuck before the race you could’ve just said so, you know?"

"I don’t think today’s the best day to fuck you and let everyone hear," he replied. "At least, not yet. Today, we’re going to talk."

"We don’t talk, Lando," you shot back, feeling an internal alarm go off. "And when we do, it’s just to ask about the safe word of the day, what we want to do to each other, and how close we are to coming."

"Well, maybe it’s time we started talking, don’t you think so?"

His answer took you completely by surprise. Your gazes remained locked on each other, and you felt the atmosphere grow tense.

For the first time in a long while, there was no excuse you could use to avoid that conversation with Lando. Maybe the fact that you had been ignoring him for the past few weeks was enough to make him realize that there was a chance—however small—that things had changed between you two.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the growing sense of unease settling in your chest. Lando kept looking at you with that same intensity he always did, except this time… it was different. It wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in a situation like this, where there were a thousand unsaid things hanging between you, waiting to be voiced. But it was the first time, at least on your part, where feelings were involved beyond pure physical desire.

"I don’t think there’s anything to talk about," you said as nonchalantly as possible, but your tense posture betrayed you.

Lando set his cup down on the table beside him. Then, he sat on the edge, crossing his arms again, and reached for your hands only for you to pull away and take a step back.

"I think you know exactly what we need to talk about," he replied calmly. His voice was lower than usual, and you felt the heat grow between your legs. You shook your head, feeling guilty and doing your best to push away that sudden, but familiar, awakening in your body.

"You’ve been avoiding me, Y/N. And don’t tell me you haven’t, because you were in Monaco and never called me to meet up… to see each other," he added, his voice laced with something unreadable. "In fact, we usually sext almost every day, and you didn’t even bother to tell me what  new lingerie set you bought for when you came over."

"I didn’t tell you I was coming to Miami either."

Your reply, rather than making you sound indifferent, exposed you completely. Lando raised an eyebrow, as if he had caught you red-handed. That was when you realized you had seriously screwed up.

"I haven’t been avoiding you, Lando. I’ve just been busy," you insisted.

"Busy? You mean busy by ignoring me?" He scoffed, ironic. His expression turned much more serious now, and you started to worry about where this might lead. "Tell me the truth, Y/N. What’s going on? What’s happening with you?" he emphasized.

You averted your gaze, pretending to take interest in the room’s decoration, a room you already knew by heart. You knew you couldn’t keep dodging the topic, but you also had no idea how to confront it without changing everything you had so far. It was impossible to put into words what you felt for Lando, not when your relationship had always been purely physical. And especially not when there was a real chance you were just confused… and, well, you couldn’t forget the possibility that he might only see you as his hookup.

"Nothing’s wrong," you finally responded.

"I thought we were always honest with each other," Lando sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

You felt your throat tighten. It was hard to breathe. You had been honest, at least when it came to the unrestricted desire between you, to touching each other without attachments, to seeking comfort in one another without questions that went beyond your wildest fantasies. You had avoided anything personal.

But now, you were slowly breaking the unspoken rules that had kept you in perfect balance until this moment.

"I’ve been busy, Lando, and the last thing I wanted was to deal with you, alright?" you insisted, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Things should have stayed the way they were until, according to you, I started ignoring you."

"No, Y/N, things aren’t like that," the Brit denied, shaking his head. He stepped closer, cornering you against the wall. "If you don’t want to face something because you’re afraid of rejection, just tell me. But, for fuck’s sake, don’t act like I did something wrong, because you’re killing me."

"Lando…"

"Stop insisting that nothing is happening between us, when that’s exactly what makes me think the opposite."

His confession caught you completely off guard. His words—clear, direct, and without a hint of sarcasm, threw you off… especially because you knew he was right.

You felt the urge to run, to disappear, to pretend none of this had ever happened. Most of all, you wanted to deny yourself any romantic thought you had ever had about Oscar’s teammate.

When you lowered your gaze, Lando moved back slightly, giving you space and making sure he didn’t overwhelm you more than you already seemed to be. You sighed, trying to relax once again, but before you could say anything, he spoke first.

"Tell me nothing’s wrong between us, Y/N Piastri," he said softly. "If nothing has really changed, if everything is the same between us… dare to look at  me in the eyes and say it."

Your chest tightened. You couldn’t run away, not when Lando had you emotionally cornered, teetering on the edge of an explosion. Your breathing was unsteady, heavy. Your mind screamed at you to find an excuse, anything that would let you stay true to yourself regardless of what happened next.

Lando waited, unmoving, his blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you tremble for the first time in your life—without him even touching you. It was the first time he had shown himself to you like this: so vulnerable and yet so determined at the same time.

"Nothing is wrong between us, Lando Norris," you finally whispered, forcing the words out, ignoring both your heart and the boy standing in front of you.

"Say it again, but this time, look me in the eyes."

He didn’t move an inch. He knew you were lying; your posture gave you away—the way you avoided his gaze, the way your fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt and your accreditation pass…

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. You had no choice… at least, not entirely.

Lifting your gaze, you met his blue eyes once again. Your lips parted slightly, ready to try and let out a lie convincing enough for both him and yourself.

But it was impossible. You couldn’t keep doing this, not when, deep down, and no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you felt something more than just pleasure for Lando Norris. The fear of rejection… it terrified you. The thought of him turning you away, of losing what you had with him, was unbearable.

"Lando…"

"You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready," he interrupted. "But please… stop pushing me away. Stop making this to us."

"It’s just…"

Nothing. No matter how much you tried to explain yourself, to find a logical enough reason for your sudden ghosting, you couldn’t.

"It’s just what, Y/N?" the Brit pressed. "Are you afraid to take a risk? To admit something because you’re scared of what might happen next? Because you don’t want to change the life you’ve had until now? Because you want to…?"

Lando forced himself to stop. He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, turning his back to you. Guilt hit you immediately, your body trembling as the storm inside you began to break free. The driver rubbed his face, frustration radiating from him. This was exhausting him. You were exhausting him, to the point where he was starting to doubt his own feelings. Feelings that had started to grow the moment he realized it hurt when you ignored him, when you didn’t even send him a simple "Hey."

"I wish this were different, Y/N," he finally murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he turned to face you again. "I wish you didn’t make me feel like this. I wish I could just be content with what we had before and pretend none of this was happening…"

Your stomach twisted painfully. That was exactly what you had been thinking, the very reason you had pulled away from him and from whatever this was. You had ignored the fact that your feelings for Lando Norris had become something much stronger—maybe they had been there for far longer than you were willing to admit.

"Lando, listen" You tried to step closer, but he pulled away.

"No, Y/N, no," he said bitterly. "I tried convincing myself there was a reason you were ignoring me, acting like I was nothing to you, and then it hit me that I really want you as more than just someone to fuck."

"That…" you struggled to say, stepping toward him. This time, Lando didn’t stop you. The sincerity in your eyes, the way you looked both calm and nervous at the same time, made him realize he had to trust his instincts. And that was exactly what they were telling him.

"That’s what I wanted to tell you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but Lando still heard you. "That’s why I kept you on standby for two weeks… I knew this would change everything, that you’d react badly, that we’d end up fighting, and I… I didn’t know how to face the possibility of you rejecting… this."

Lando stared at you in surprise before a sad smile crept onto his lips.

"Y/N… I’ve always been good at reading signals, but this has been driving me fucking crazy."

"And you think it’s not been making me feel the same?" you shot back, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his. You didn’t resist, feeling how the both of you tensed at the contact. His lips inched toward yours, and when they finally met, the kiss was so fierce, so full of passion, that you ended up straddling him on the couch, moving against him, desperate to feel him. Even though you both knew there was still a race in two hours.

"I don’t want to touch you like this, Y/N," Norris whispered against your ear as you left small bites along his neck. "Y/N, stop it babe…"

"I don’t wanna be just another ex-love to you, Lando…" you murmured between kisses, still searching for friction between your bodies.

"And I don’t wanna miss you like your other lovers do, babe…"

This time, Lando gripped your waist firmly, flipping you onto the couch beneath him. His eyes never left yours as he carefully lifted your shirt and started massaging your breasts over your bra.

"I wanna be your end game, Y/N," Lando breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

Your breath came out in shallow pants, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge. Your hands gripped the unfastened gear around his waist, tugging lightly to keep him close.

"Then prove it."

"I have a race in two hours, love…" he murmured, his voice rough as he pressed his forehead to yours, his arousal growing.

"Then you better be quick," you teased, running your hands over his abs beneath the fireproof. "Especially if you don’t want Osc to hear us…"

"You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Y/N Piastri," Lando groaned as he trailed his fingers up your thighs, lowering himself before you. "Now, open your legs for me... You deserve a punishment after being such a bad, bad girl these past few days…"

[kashverse]

if there is one child that must be appreciated, it is latte. a good latte deserves cute latte art, just as much as you deserve to witness the absolute chaos that will unfold when you put your boyfriend and a delicate artform in the same room. because, naturally, you—being the genius that you are—decide that these two gifts to humanity must be combined. your boyfriend, with all his charm, skill, or in some cases, sheer unrelenting ego, should absolutely try his hand at making tiny, adorable masterpieces in steamed milk. what could possibly go wrong? …a lot. a whole lot. but you’re in too deep now. the class is booked. the milk is frothing. and your boyfriend? oh, he is about to take this way too seriously.

now, if there’s one thing sukuna cannot stand, it’s being patronized. and somehow, standing there, all six-foot-something, surrounded by people who gasp use stencils for their latte art makes him feel violently disrespected. oh, you think he needs this? you think he can’t make art out of steamed milk? please. his hands were carving flesh into art long before this instructor was even a twinkle in their ancestor’s eye. but if you thought he’d refuse to participate, you don’t know sukuna well enough. no, he takes this as a personal challenge. he learns. he perfects. and when he finally presents his latte art, it’s a perfectly detailed demon face, sharp-toothed and menacing. “oh, uh… cute pitbull!” you say, nudging him before the instructor has a heart attack. sukuna nods sagely. yes. pitbull. definitely. but when it comes to adults he despises? oh, he’s petty. that one customer who dared to critique his “overly aggressive aesthetic”? congratulations, buddy, you just drank a latte cursed with an ancient sigil. sukuna watches them sip it with a smirk, arms crossed, utterly delighted with his petty vengeance. “how’s the flavor?” he asks, smug as hell. the customer just blinks, confused. they’ll probably have bad luck for a week. or diarrhea. who’s to say?

choso, on the other hand, has an existential awakening. at first, he’s simply fascinated. art… can exist in coffee? he stares at the swirling crema, eyes widening as he processes this revelation. the instructor barely explains the basics before choso stands up, dramatically setting his cup down. “this,” he announces, “is a reflection of the fleeting nature of life.” people murmur in agreement, assuming he’s some kind of deep, artistic genius. but oh, no. he’s spiraling now. “you create it, admire it, and then—destroy it with a single sip. isn’t that cruel? isn’t that… life itself?” you have to physically drag him out before he turns the workshop into a philosophical symposium on the ephemerality of human existence.

geto, meanwhile, is here for a completely different reason. does he need to learn latte art? no. does he want to? also no. but can he use it for his own agenda? absolutely. he skips right past the cute heart and bear designs and learns how to write with milk foam. the next thing you know, you glance at his cup and see “JOIN ME” written in elegant cursive atop a matcha latte. “are you serious?” you ask. he just smiles.

“art is meant to convey a message.”

“your message is cult recruitment.”

“my message is inclusion,” he corrects. you have to sit him down and give him a long lecture on why recruiting followers through artisanal coffee is not ethical. he nods solemnly but then winks at the barista like you didn’t just spend fifteen minutes trying to knock some morality into him.

toji, on the other hand, is struggling. “this ain’t for people like me,” he jokes at first, grinning. but five lattes later, he is no longer grinning. his first attempt at a heart? roadkill. the second attempt? roadkill that got run over twice. “babe,” you say gently, looking at the cup.

“don’t,” he warns.

“i just think—”

“DON’T.”

legend says he’s still in the kitchen at midnight, aggressively steaming milk and muttering “stupid fuckin’ foam” under his breath.

meanwhile, gojo…is fighting for his life in this class. he learned latte art off of tiktok one time and now thinks he’s god’s gift to coffee. he enters the workshop smug, flicking his hair and winking at the instructor like he’s about to change the game. and for a while? yeah. he’s decent. he gets the basics down pretty quickly and flexes at every given opportunity. but then. then. some sixteen-year-old prodigy casually creates a mona lisa on their latte. gojo short-circuits. his hair literally stands on end. “this is war,” he mutters. and now he’s hyper-fixated on beating this kid at latte art, muttering “i’m the strongest” while aggressively swirling his milk foam.

but then, there’s nanami, the epitome of poise, precision, and patience. he treats the class like it’s an artform—because to him, it is. he listens intently, follows instructions meticulously, and in just one session, his latte art is restaurant-tier. and it doesn’t stop there. every morning, without fail, he hands you a latte with an intricate, handcrafted design. a heart. a tulip. one time, even a self-portrait. your local café is begging for you to convince him to quit his job and work for them instead. he refuses, of course. but now? well. you kinda can’t start your day without a perfect latte from nanami’s personal, high-precision coffee service.

[treatbuckywkisses]

The yearning and tension are so well written:( this made my tummy hurt in the best way😭😭 all mixed in with a very enticing side story this was so incredible it felt like I was really there in the room !!!! 

     Your stomach twisted at the words, the culpability of your actions threatening to eat away at it. Even after everything you said, even after running away from him and deserting him at the fair, he still only wanted to know you were safe. There were so many things you wanted to say. Nothing, however, was a good enough response in your mind. There was nothing you could say that wouldn’t leave a door open for more. No matter what you told him it would either crush his heart or give him hope.      You didn’t dare do either. :( when we start with the angst it really gets me😭 the last part of this is SO good 

     Natasha sighed, her lips in a tight line,” Y/n, you’re joking right? You two have already been something more to each other for a long time now. Please, none of us are blind to how you two favor each other over the rest of us.” You took a second to let her words sink in. idiots in love 💕 I'm a SUCKER 

     But in this case, it was okay, because at least in this case you were the bad guy. You were the heartbreaker and everyone can hate you. No one has to pick sides because you made it easy for them to choose Bucky, and you were okay with that.  baby:( this paragraph punched me in the gut so hard

     Bucky was one of those people. When your eyes locked as you looked out into the sea of the trial audience he sent you a small smile and gave you an encouraging nod. That was all you needed to knock your closing statement out of the park. UGH WHEN IS THE LOVE COMING I'M SICK THEY ARE SO IDIOTS IN LOVE😭😭

     “You’re scared of things changing, but can't you see they already did?” iconic nat always so smart

     There was a slight shifting sound on the other side of the door before he spoke, “Look, these past few weeks I tried really hard to push my feelings away, but I was only getting more frustrated with myself. In pushing my feelings away, I pushed you away and I don’t want that. I miss you,” his voice broke toward the end and he paused before continuing, “I want you—no, I need you to be a part of my life even if it's just as friends. Y/n, don't think for one second I regret taking you on that date because I don’t, but I can’t keep going on acting like we don’t know each other anymore.” shutup im crying:( this is sooooo precious:(((((( my heart is HURTING for him

     You were in love with Detective James Buchanan Barnes. GOOD YES FINALLY😭😭😭😭 IT'S LIKE I CAN BREATHE AGAIN

      The cookies were to sweeten up your apology, which was a long thought-out one you wrote in the notes app on your phone before going to bed. It could honestly rival any speeches you had ever given in court. so relatable (I live in my notes app) 

     The apologies, the loneliness, the anger, the sadness, the frustration, and everything in between melted away leaving only the love that was blossoming between you two behind. I love angst with a happy ending ( this made me physically ill and if I didn't read love soon I would DIE ) this is so cute I love them: ( even though it hurt

love them love you🫶🏻

Conflict of Interest - II

Pairing: Detective!Bucky Barnes x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: After deserting Bucky at the fair, you are left dealing with the consequences. This becomes difficult as you are all assigned to a new case. 

Word Count: 8.5k

Warning(s): crime show level of violence / homicide investigation details / drinking / angst / fluff / mentions of a car accident and injuries, but no major details / slight cursing / anxiety / overthinking / insecurities / lots of back and forth / misunderstandings / angst with a happy ending 

a/n: It has been a while, but part 2 of this beautiful duo is finally out! ❤️ I hope the length of part 2 can make up for how long it took me to finally finish writing it. It’s angsty with a happy ending, although the happy ending doesn’t come so easily. 👀 Thank you for reading! ❤️ Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! 💕

➵ Prequel Drabble // ➵ Part I 

     You tossed and turned in your bed once more, the sunlight peeking through your blinds, disturbing your sleep. The events of last Saturday weighed heavy on you. So much so, that you hadn’t gone to work in the past two days—today would be the third. You claimed you came down with the flu, putting on the best performance you could when Natasha called you. You were never able to lie to her face, but over the phone wasn’t as hard. Eventually, however, you would have to go back. 

     Eventually, you would have to face him. 

     Bucky called you a few times that night after you deserted him at the fair. The guilt set in almost immediately and you were too ashamed to answer him. You managed to read one message before silencing all of the notifications on your phone.

     Can you at least let me know you got home safely?

Keep reading

[malewifeharem]

ok but imagine sylus with a tongue piercing... why havent i seen any posts on this mdni nsfw. not proofread. fem mc

your breath hitches as you feel the cold metal of his piercing come into contact with your inner thigh. your legs are gently but firmly kept in place over his shoulders. "fuck... sy, quit teasing already..." your body feels like its been set on fire. you can feel your juices pooling between your legs and dripping onto the sheets below but you couldn't care less right now. all you can think of is the heavenly sight before you - the way you have the most wanted man in linkon - the leader of onychinus, looking absolutely debauched and feral all for a taste of you. "patience, kitten." his voice is deep and commands your obedience, and you find yourself holding back from pushing his head down nose-deep into your cunt already. he lets out an amused chuckle at the way your hips jerk up - desperate and mindless, your body betraying your mind. this is torturous, even for him - but good god, seeing you all pliant and squirmy had to be the hottest thing he's ever seen. one of his hands lets go of your thigh to slowly trail up your torso before finally giving your breast a squeeze. at the same time, sylus's head dips down to give your clit a lick, relishing in the way you immediately make your relief well-known with a loud moan. "f-fuck... oh- sylus!" your hand grabs a fistful of his hair and tugs it towards your pussy - unable to hold back the hunger for more pleasure. more of him. ever eager to please, he doesn't deny it to you. he plunges straight in - lapping up your juices as if his sole purpose in life was to satisfy you. (it is) if you weren't lost in ecstasy right now, you'd be able to see the small smirk on his face - so smug at the way he has you unraveling all for him. the contrast between the feeling of his smooth, chilling ball piercing and warm, wet tongue sends you reeling. his sharp and thick nose kisses your poor swollen clit perfectly, rubbing it just the way you needed every time you grinded against his face. "i can feel you tightening around my tongue, sweetie... does my piercing feel good, hm?" sylus says in between bated breaths - unintentionally blowing hot air onto your sloppy messy cunt. "f-fuck, sylus...! ohmygod-"

you feel an all-too familiar knot in your stomach creeping up rapidly, ready to burst at any moment.

through your teary vision and hazy mind, you notice your boyfriend's own fucked-out look - with your slick coating his entire mouth, dripping down his chin - as if he could care about that when he had a feast splayed out right in front of him. "gonna hah- c-cum... sy! 's too much- ngh- i...!" when your legs start to shake and you subconsciously move away from his tongue, you feel the constricting strings of his evol pull you back down - not letting you escape. "where do you think you're going, kitten? ngh- don't run away now..."

your eyes squeeze shut and your jaw hangs wide as you feel your orgasm crashing over - so hard and violent - you think you might not make it out alive. spurts of syrupy cum gushes out of your pussy and sylus is there to lick it all up - letting you ride out the waves of pleasure.

only when you push his head away does he stop, letting you catch your breath. when you finally come to, you notice the wet splotch on the crotch of his pants - did he really...?

"sweetie... if you keep staring, i won't be able to control myself anymore. can you bare the consequences?"

"haah... yes," you almost whine - your own hunger to please him not satisfied.

the clinking of his belt followed by the sound of his belt unzippping has you anticipating for what comes next even more - sending tingles of excitement straight to your greedy cunt.

"let me know when you're too tired to go on, pretty girl." he coos gently despite his filthy words.

"because we still have a long way to go before my hunger for you is satiated."

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Twelve Days: Part 5 **^

Here's the next part! Sorry it took so long 😭 But A LOT happens in this part and it might make y'all a little angry but I think the ending makes up for it!

Full Series Masterlist

WC: 10.5K

Warnings: Infidelity, mentions of slight germaphobia, mentions of unkept/untidy home life, fear of abandonment, sex (unprotected, penetrative), mentions of divorce.

It didn’t take as long as you had been expecting to hear back from Harry. Just another few days, you had just gotten into your car after a dinner service at a client’s home when his call came in. You were excited but feeling a bit nervous regarding the purpose of the call, it could be very casual but given the precarious situation you all found yourselves in, it could also be a call about things getting even more complicated. Regardless of what it was, you wanted to hear his voice.

“Hello?” You answered as you started to take off.

“Hi, how was your day?” He asked and you smiled.

“It was alright. And yours?” You asked.

“Busy. I had two lectures today, I’m just getting my things together before going home.” He shared.

“Okay. I am just heading home myself.” You shared.

“Good, I’m glad we get to accompany each other on our drives.” He said and you smiled.

“So how was it when you got back home?” You asked.

“We had a fight…she AirTag-ged my car.” He disclosed and your features twisted in concern.

“What?!”

“Right? Said she needed to confirm that I would go see you. I told her that I would’ve been honest about my plans if she asked.” Harry explained.

“It’s not like we did anything bad.”

“That’s what I told her. She seemed surprised for some reason.”

“Maybe because I’ve always been the more…liberated of the two.” You explained and he chuckled a bit and you smiled. “This would also disprove her theory that you’ve been spending time with me to make her jealous. I feel like that pisses her off more than anything.” You explained. “She’s always been first choice…” you said, “I get it though. She just puts herself out there more and whatnot, she’s easier to notice. I don’t mind that. I’m definitely more of a background girl, it’s where I thrive and feel comfortable so I’ve never competed her for it and I think she might…sense this…us as me trying to compete with her.” You explained.

“Well that’s shitty for me.”

“It is. And I promise you, I’m not trying to compete for you.” You assured him.

“I know, love. It just sucks thatshe is…” he said solemnly.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“Don’t feel bad for me, love.” He hummed.

“I do because you don’t deserve it. No one does! I just hopes she…gets some clarity soon. This is getting so insane.” You sighed.

“I don’t want to…create a bigger divide but she’s being pretty harsh towards you. She thinks it’s stupid of me to invest all this time in you because according to her, you’re a flake.” He said and you pouted.

“A flake?” You asked for clarification, you were shocked.

“Yep…she’s just saying things at this point.”

“Yeah.” You hummed.

“Well, I’ve given her a month, in my head. To just get her ducks in a row, meet with the lawyer, figure out what she’s going to do…if she doesn’t, I’m going to talk to your parents and ask them to please…reason with her.” He shared and you hummed, “Do you think they would?” He asked you.

“I think so…they love you so much. My mom has always said you’re the son she never got to have.” You shared and he chuckled.

“Did she?”

“She did! Has actually said it on multiple occasions.” You reassured him.

“Well that does make me feel better.” He hummed.

“Good.” You grinned.

After getting that over with, it was just some light conversation about the good and bad parts of your days until he had arrived home. You were going to do some grocery shopping before getting back to your apartment but assured him you’d let him know when you’d made it home. 

Thankfully, Ash hadn’t shown up again. You half expected another visit and had been feeling on edge arriving at your apartment the last few days, but with each passing day you  tried to let the anxiety diminish. You were loving your quiet life alone so far. You also liked your apartment and were sad that you might have to move if he ever showed up again, but you just needed to not see him again. It was disrespectful really, his inability to honor your wishes after he had left you the way he had. You were feeling even more upset by Bea telling him where you had moved to. You let her know that what she had done was completely unacceptable and just blocked her on everything. You’d observed the way she always got a little more flirty when Ash was around but didn’t think it’d get to the point where she’d share your private information just to get on his good side. Especially when she knew you wanted nothing more to do with him. Hopefully, you’d seen the last of him so that you could actually focus on the dilemma at hand. Your sister. 

You were genuinely feeling really worried over what Julie’s next steps would be. You wanted to talk to her but she wasn’t answering your calls or responding to any of your texts just yet. Of course she had the right to be angry with you, but to think you were just using Harry for attention or to make her jealous? That wasn’t in your nature at all. To call you a flake? You were steadfast as can be, she knew this. You were raised the same. You were definitely hurt by her remarks, but you founds some solace in the knowledge that she was projecting her own insecurities about Joe onto you. This was the man who she had personally told you had some commitment issues! The man who undoubtedly made his way back into her life when he saw the seemingly perfect life she was leading with Harry via her social media, through the outlet she had used to allow him back into her life. 

You wanted to correct this narrative Julie had made up of you so badly because she ought to know you better than what she was choosing to believe of you. You had never had the type of sister relationship that made you best friends, like you’d mentioned to Harry, there’d always been an air of competition. Being just three years older than you, you’d coincided academically on a few occasions and you really didn’t start to “fight back” until high school. Naturally, you were a bit more likable because you were more laid back . You were great in your classes without imparting as much effort, which surprised your teachers. You soon learned that they expected you to be a little more of a wooer as she had been but when they learned you weren’t they eased up on you, the other students did too. Comparison was a killer and after one awful fight she told you that you had ruined her senior year. She had been cold towards you after that until she was off at college. And well, you decided not to go that route, you went to culinary school instead. And that gave her enough of the sense of superiority that she needed to have over you to placate her.

It had been a week after your conversation with Harry that you had your appointment with your therapist and had gotten to speak to her about what your sister had been saying and how you were feeling about it all. She had been supportive of you trying to go speak with her and so you had done just that. It was the end of her workday and though you felt like a stalker for being parked next to her car waiting for her…this was the only way you’d get anything from her. When you saw her approaching the car you hopped out of yours. As soon as she caught your gaze she noticeably became deflated. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked you and you offered a slightly nervous smile.

“Hi.” You greeted Julie. “I was just hoping we could go for dinner and talk?” You asked hopefully.

“About?” She asked cooly.

“What you saw.” You said and you saw her lips purse a bit as she gnawed the inside of her cheek pensively.

“I don’t know…I mean…I know what I saw, I don’t think we need to rehash it.” She stated as she crossed her arms.

“Well you’re still not talking to me so…”

“Because you kissed my husband!” She scowled.

“I know and I’m sorry-”

“No you’re not.” She cut you off.

“I’m not sorry for kissing him. I’m sorry that my actions upset you and angered you.” You clarified.

“So you’re sorry you got caught?” She asked.

“Not necessarily…I mean, I know that you actually don’t care that I kissed him. You don’t love him, so I know that it didn’t hurt you.” You said and she glanced away, “So I’m here to figure out what exactly you’re still so offended with me over.” You said and her gaze found yours again.

“You couldn’t have gone for anyone else?” She asked.

“I didn’t go for him, Julie! We were literally just talking about the things that we were dealing with. I mean, we’ve always had a good relationship as friends, you know that! But through these experiences we’ve been through we bonded on a new level. The attraction was just…there. It wasn’t on purpose. It wasn’t a plan of any sort! And the fact that you believe I would do something like that…” you said sadly, “I’m not calculating like that. You know that. And to be quite honest with you, I feel like…your anger actually has nothing to do with me. It’s just being directed at me and that makes me upset.” You said and her jaw clenched a bit. “Well…that’s all I wanted to say so…” you trailed off and she just nodded but said nothing else. 

After standing there in silence for a few seconds you just got into your car and left. You had done your part and now, the ball was in Julie’s court. You hoped that she would give what you’d said some honest thought and consideration. You had only been on the road for a few minutes when a call came in from Harry.

“Hey.” You greeted him.

“That was enthusiastic.” He chuckled sardonically and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Sorry. I’m just heading home from ambushing my sister.” You informed.

“Ah…I take it didn’t go too well?” 

“Not really…” you confirmed. “She didn’t say much apart from the usual accusations of me interfering in your marriage.” You sighed. “I also presented to her the idea that maybe the things she’s been saying of me are actually her displacing her anger with her situation with Joe onto me. That one did upset her, I saw it in her eyes.” You elaborated.

“Yeah, she doesn’t love to be in the wrong…” Harry chuckled. 

“Yeah. And have you made any headway with her?”

“I don’t know…we’ll see tomorrow. She has an appointment with the lawyer. I’ve already asked mine what I can do if she refuses to sign.” 

“And what did the lawyer say?”

“I can petition through the court for them to serve her the divorce papers. If she does’t sign within a certain timeline then the judge can make a default ruling to dissolve the marriage. So there is a way to proceed if she doesn’t abide by my timeline. I just…I don’t want to put her through that humiliation because the only place I know where to find her apart from our house would be her job.”

“Yeah, that’s low…” you agreed. “I mean, you can AirTag her…” you chuckled and he laughed.

“I could…that low has been reached.” He hummed in amusement. “We also have to get a court date if I go that route and who knows how long that would take.”

“Yeah…let’s just hope she does the right thing and comes around.”

“Yeah.” Harry agreed. “I’d like to see you again soon.” He said after a beat of silence.

“I’d like to see you too.” You hummed.

“Been seeing those videos of the couples painting each other…” Harry shared and you giggled.

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Yeah! I think it’d be fun, don’t you?” He asked and you giggled some more.

“Yeah, I think so too!”

“And I can cook for you this time.”

“Love that.” You hummed.

“And we can ask each other all the questions we have for each other over dinner and the painting.” He added to his suggestion.

“Yeah! That sounds like such a fun evening!” You agreed excitedly.

“Good! So let me know when you’ll have at least two days in a row off so that we can also have a little extra time the day after.”

“Okay, I’ll check my work calendar when I get home.”

“Perfect.” Harry smiled. “How are you holding up? Did Ash show up again?”

“I’m alright, still feeling a little…annoyed, I guess. But no, he didn’t come back.” You shared.

“Would you want him to come back? I mean, just so you can clear the air?”

“The more I give it some thought, not really. He’s said what he wanted to say…that he made a mistake, that he loves me and wants me back…” you said with a sarcastic, sing-song-y cadence. 

“Do you want to say anything to him?”

“Just how much he hurt me but if anything, that gives him more power over me and I’d hate that.” You confessed.

“I’d hate that for you too. But if you need that for your closure then it might be worth thinking over before completely disregarding it.” Harry advised, as much as he really did hate the thought of you giving Ash another morsel of your time and attention. He wasn’t jealous, more protective than anything. You were still a shell of yourself and he hated that Ash had done that to you. 

“Maybe you’re right…but I mean, just saying it out loud is enough for now.” You said, “Thank you for…making me feel comfortable and safe enough to be able to say it.” You thanked him.

“Of course, love.” Harry replied. 

Harry was happy that he could make you feel safe and looked after. But he also wanted that same reassurance from you. He understood why you weren’t leaning into that 

and into your feelings for him just yet though. You had every right to feel wary about what you two had going, especially with the stance Julie had taken. But that also meant that right now he had no one to really talk about his heavier and darker feelings. He knew for a fact that if he communicated that to you, you’d be there for him but he also didn’t want to overburden you while you yourself were struggling.

“And what about you? I know that maybe your feelings for Julie are not what they used to be but…it also can’t be easy for you.” You said and he bit his lip as he gave some thought to what he wanted to say.

“You’re right about that…It hasn’t been easy. I mean, because of my family and all, it’s created this…fear of being left behind.” He explained. “That weekend that I went to see you?”

“Mhmm?”

“She didn’t come home until Monday afternoon and when I got in she’d left her suitcase by the garage door and I was just filled with dread that she was leaving without saying anything to me.” He explained. “It felt…confusing…because, while I know that the love isn’t there anymore I still…invested a lot in her. In our home…”

“Yeah, I get that.” You assured him.

“And again, it was just that fear of not having a family again. That after everything I did to build a happy home life for myself, I’d still end up…alone.” He disclosed. After a few seconds of quiet he cleared his throat. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“Don’t be. I was just…processing, empathizing…” you said and he hummed, “If anything, I’d like you to say all of this to me as it comes. You’re always here for me. I want to be here for you too.”

“I want to tell you more but I don’t want to put more on your plate.” He explained.

“I appreciate that but I am feeling better…mentally.”

“Yeah? Since when?”

“Since…you.” You said and Harry smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Honest. It’s nice to have a friend and someone to care for with reciprocity.” 

“It is. And for the record, I know that you’ll always be in my life. But a part of me is also scared that we won’t be able to have more down the line. Like, what if that gets ruined?”

“So my same fear?” You asked and he hummed.

“Guess so.” He confirmed.

“Well, there’ll always be space for you in my life. I mean that. I feel good when I’m with you and I can only imagine that it’ll only get better if we…are more.” You said timidly.

“I think so too.” Harry hummed and you smiled. “I understand that we both have things to heal from though and that it might take some time to get anywhere near where we might want to get eventually…” he trailed off and chuckled, “I don’t know if maybe I’m getting ahead of myself but I really like you and I like that I can fully be myself around you.” He explained.

You could feel your heart pounding so hard at what he was saying. You could feeling a warmth growing inside of you and spreading all throughout your body. This crush you had on him had you so affected. To hear him saying this was more of a relief than a cause for anxiety. You hadn’t allowed yourself to think that far out of fear that maybe it was intense for now but would fizzle out at some point down the line. But to hear him say that he wanted to give you two an honest shot when things got better, it made you feel a little less delusional. You loved his vulnerability with you. You could also be yourself around him in a way that was so pure. You knew he wouldn’t judge or make you feel bad for it. There was a baseline safety with him that helped your closeness grow quickly. 

“Ummm…sorry. D-did I lose you?” He asked nervously and you shook your head quickly. 

“Oh my god, no sorry! I was just…so happy to hear you say that.” You giggled.

“Thank god…” he chuckled in relief.

“So sorry.” You laughed through an apology again and he joined you as well. 

“Ummm…a-are you far from Santa Barbara?” He asked and you bit your lip.

“Like…almost 30 minutes?”

“Hmmm…do you work tomorrow?” 

“I actually don’t…” you shared.

“Can I come see you?” He asked.

“Now?”

“Yeah!” He chuckled, “If you don’t mind the company, it’s gonna be a long weekend. I won’t have class until next Wednesday.”

“You want to spend a whole ass week with me?”

“Yeah. If you’ll have me.” He hummed.

“What about Julie? I don’t want to instigate any bigger issues.”

“She hasn’t really been staying at the house since she returned from her weekend getaway.” Harry shared, “So…I think she’ll be fine.”

“Well then, I’d love to have you over.” You confirmed happily.

“Great! I’m just getting home so I’m gonna get showered, pack, and head over to you.”

“Perfect! See you soon!” You chirped, not even bothering to minimize your excitement. 

“Alright, I’ll be seeing you soon.” Harry chuckled.

 ***********

It was nearing 8pm when Harry was calling to tell you he was outside of your building. You hurried down with your visitor’s badge to ensure his car was safe while parked there and soon enough you were heading back up to the warmth of your apartment.

“Have you eaten?” You asked him as he followed you in.

“Not yet. Do you want to order in?” 

“We can but I’m not too hungry to be honest.” You explained.

“Has that been constant lately?” He asked as he set his luggage against your couch and his tote down on the couch.

“No, it’s actually been better. But I’m just…coming off my anxious wave after I ambushed Julie. I feel like it was alright but maybe I’ve made things worse.” You explained your concern as he came up to you and grabbed your hands.

“I get the anxiety but I must say that I’m proud of you for making an effort. And well, you know your sister, and whatever she does with what you said is out of your hands now, love. So try not to be too worried about it.” He advised you and you exhaled and nodded. “I know it’s a lot easier said than done, but you’ve said what you needed to and done your part, yeah?” He asked you and you nodded. “That’s all there is to it.” He said with an encouraging smile.

“I know…” you sighed and glanced down as his hands ran up your arms and rubbed over your shoulders soothingly a few times.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You asked as you turned your gaze back to him.

“I’m really proud of you for doing that. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

“Thank you.” You whispered happily.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked next and you smirked a bit.

“Of course.” You hummed as one of his hands grabbed your chin gently and angled you up, “Kiss me whenever you want.” You said softly and he smiled.

“I don’t think you know what you’re unleashing…” he responded and you giggled.

“Show me then.” You smirked and he leaned in the rest of the way until your lips were meeting.

You loved to kiss Harry and thought of it often when you’d get lost in your day dreams. The shape of his lips fit so nicely against yours. The pressure of them pressing to your own, the eagerness and need that you could feel flooding the atmosphere between the two of you was addicting. If only he knew how much you were affected by this. Your mouth parted easily to let him in as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip. He moaned in relief in perfect unison with you when his tongue smoothed against yours. He had been longing for your taste as much as you had been longing for his. You grabbed his hands and guided them around your waist and he was quick to hug around you, pulling you even closer to his body as your kiss deepened. It was so easy to get lost in the moment with Harry. You were not sitting on your counter with him standing between your legs as you made out. His hands were up your shirt and yours were feeling over his biceps. You hadn’t ever been with someone as muscular as he was. He didn’t even have to flex for you to feel how strong and built he was. 

You were suddenly startled apart by your phone ringing loudly across the counter indicating that it was time for you to begin your “no screen” time. It was easy to find yourself doom scrolling, especially when you struggled to sleep, so you’d made the resolution to cut down your screen time starting at 8pm each night.

“Can you grab it for me?” You asked Harry, your lips smearing into his as you asked your question and he nodded.

“Sure.” He responded and slid his hands from beneath your shirt and walked around the counter to grab your phone before bringing it back to you.

“Sorry, I’m trying to stop using my phone by 8pm each night.” You explained as you stopped the alarm and proceeded to turn on “Do Not Disturb” mode for the night.

“Smart!” He said as his hands landed on your thighs.

“It’s hard but research says cutting off screen time before bed helps.”

“Well, that’s true.” He assured you and you smiled. “And it’s 8 already? I should order something in.” He said before stuffing his hand down his back pocket and pulling out his phone. “Are you hungry now?” He asked you with a smirk.

“Yeah, more now.” You chuckled.

“Hungry for anything in particular?”

“Tacos?” You suggested.

“Ooh, perfect! What’s good in your area?” He asked and soon you had selected a little mom and pop, hole in the way a couple miles away that had never failed you before. 

After placing the order you suggested Harry get into something more comfortable and then get settled in.

“Sorry, I don’t have any space for your toiletries.” You mumbled, “But you’re more than welcome to put your clothes in a drawer! The one of the top right should be empty.” 

“It’s fine. As long as you don’t mind the bag staying up here. If not I’ll just keep it in my soot case.” He said with the Baron Trump meme accent. You looked to him and burst into laughter at this.

“I’m dead! I love that video!” You cackled.

“It’s funny!” He laughed along, “One of my students showed it to me…s’been stuck in my head ever since.” He explained with a smile.

“It is a gem…well, I don’t mind you having your things out for easier access!” You assured him.

“I’m tidy. I promise.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes playfully. “Tell me what your pet peeves are in a shared space, so that I can avoid them.” Harry requested.

“Ummm…just don’t be gross. Ash used to do this ridiculous thing where he’d leave his dirty laundry beside the hamper…” You recalled and Harry chuckled, “That pissed me off. Like it’s right there!” You expressed.

“Yeah, that’s stupid.” He chuckled.

“Or leave his towel on the ground, like he was in a fucking hotel.”

“Oh god…” Harry grimaced, “The smell…”

“Yeah! Mildewy and ugh…thinking of it is giving me the ick.” You frowned. “One time he did not unpack it from the gym and-”

“I know where it’s going, you don’t need to tell me.” He said and you giggled.

“I discovered it, so I have to tell you.”

“Fine. Go on.”

“It grew mold. The whole bag! And who discovered it in the garage?”

“Not Ash!”

“Exactly! And it was so humid that week…God, that was horrifying. Then he had the gall to be pissed at me for throwing away his Alo gym bag…ridiculous.” You huffed.

“If he cared so much about it why did he leave it in that state? What a prick.” He said and you nodded in agreement.

“Exactly what I said…he probably left it in his trunk, encountered the smell and just left it in the garage for me to find and wash.” you rolled your eyes. “And like, he wasn’t like nasty apart from those things. Like, you could tell his mom would do those things for him and his brothers.” You explained and he nodded. “What about you?” You asked.

“Ummm… well growing up my house was very neat until my mom met that prick of a man and then it was pretty unkept. I did a lot of the cleaning up so uh…I guess just clutter and dishes in the sink. That invites ants and cockroaches, which I detest. And well, one time I was going to treat myself to some biscuits and was met with a mouse in the packet so uh… yeah, I’m a little bit of a clean freak.” He explained. You could see that when he talked about these things he got a distant look in his eyes. Like he had to remind himself that, that wasn’t his life anymore. “Also, no eating in bed.” He added, “Because that is literally inviting bugs.” He explained and you nodded.

“Noted. Though I must admit, I have eaten in bed…specially when I’ve gotten sick and no one’s around to look after me.”

“Well you’ve got me now so…no need for that.” He said and you smiled.

“Yeah.” You hummed. “But being in the valley, there are just critters around so it is important to keep things extra clean. I haven’t had any encounters, thankfully! I’m very averse to them.” You explained.

“Yeah, they’re gross.” He agreed.

“Anything else?” You asked.

“Oh! Getting on the bed in outside clothes.”

“Okay, yes!” You agreed, “There are “safe” spaces for me though, I don’t know about you? But like if I visit my parents or friends that don’t have pets, I wouldn’t mind a quick sit on my bed, not gonna roll around in it either…” you said and he chuckled, “But that’s not as gross as if I had gone out to a restaurant or the movies, for example.”

“Well, wouldn’t your car seats have all the germs from everywhere else? So when you sit in the car that gets on your clothes, even if you were in a safe space…” you pouted after he explained.

“Oh god…we could be laying in filth right now…” you said with feigned concern.

“When did you last wash your comforter?” He asked, you knew he was trying to come off pretend-horrified but his eyes said otherwise.

“I’m messing with you! Literally over the weekend. I promise!” You laughed as he looked at you skeptically.

“Pinky promise?”

“Yeah!” You said as you extended your pinky out to him and he wrapped his around yours.

“If I get pink eye, we know what happened here.” He joked and you rolled your eyes at his dramatics as he sniggered. He then interlaced his fingers with yours and just held your hand in his. You could see that there was a lot going on in his mind and you wanted to help however you could.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” You asked him tentatively.

“Tons! But ummm…time and place.” He said as he glanced down at your hands. You squeezed his hand and he glanced up at you.

“Tell me.” You insisted and he sighed.

“Just that…when your sister leaves, for good, I was thinking about how long I’d have to be alone in that house. Like…I saved up a lot for that with the hopes of having a life and a family there, you know?” You nodded in understanding. “I don’t know if I could be there as comfortably if I were alone. I’d hate to sell it but…what would be the point in keeping it?” He asked and you hummed. “And you really don’t have to say anything about it, I just…am a little nervous to be all alone again. And like, I know that I wouldn’t be totally alone, but in a way I haven’t been in a decade you know?”

“Yeah, I get that.” You assured him.

“Like things would be missing that have been there since we moved in together…half of the things would be gone…and well, I couldn’t very well ask or expect you to be able to visit as often as I’d probably like…” he added. 

“I get it. It’s scary.” You said and he nodded.

“How’d you do it?” He asked and you smiled.

“Well, I’m in the middle of that and well, I am depressed!” You chuckled and he smiled, “So…still learning how to cope, I guess. This, with us? It’s helped. I don’t feel so alone anymore.” You explained.

“Good.” He hummed. 

“Yeah, so if you… need me to go out there and hang out you can ask. Whatever the reason in your brain is that’s holding you back from asking me for reciprocity? It’s wrong. If being there and enjoying the home you worked so hard for is important to you, then it’s important to me too.” You assured him with a sincerity that he hadn’t seen from anyone in years and you saw his lips turn up a bit.

Harry just felt this sudden rush of warmth overcome him. He definitely wanted you over more, he just felt a little bad about it right now while things were still up in the air. He wanted to live there forever, he hadn’t committed to buying a home thinking that he would one day grow sick of it. It was heaven on earth to him. He could step out onto his balcony and see the ocean from it! Of course he had made compromises along the way to accommodate Julie like in decor, in paints, upgrades…but he still loved the house. And to know that you’d be willing to make the drive out and spend time with him there simply because he loved it and was comfortable there, well, that was almost more than he could ever ask for. So he was really glad that you had offered it.

“I’d actually really like that.” He finally said and you smiled.

“Okay. Then we’ll make it happen.” You assured him and he smiled and let go of your hand but only because he was pressing himself up to kiss you again. And as your new normal seemed to be, you got lost in it until the delivery person’s call was interrupting you.

You had initially been concerned that maybe you’d pushed him too far or said too much but by the way he was acting now, it seems you had said the correct thing. Harry was a protector, he always had been that way. He was very concerned for your sister, for you, your family… it was never in a way that made you feel incapable, but he just liked to show you all that he would take care of you all if shit hit the fan. You knew that it had been hard for him not to be able to do that for you in the last year, even when he was going through his own stuff. So now, you wanted to allow him to make up for lost time and as you had said, you wanted to reciprocate the way he made you feel and were glad that he felt like you were.

“M’afraid you’re not gonna get a turn, love…” Harry practically slurred with his cheek smushed up against your stomach. You were currently laid on the couch, longways of course, and had put on “Miss Congeniality”. But you had agreed to give each other massages. However, Harry had elected for you to massage his head and it was putting him to sleep.

You giggled, but kept on going. “S’alright.” You responded softly. You could feel him growing heavier against you. “Maybe we should move to the bed though. Don’t want you to have a rough night.” You explained.

“In a minute.” He mumbled.

“Okay.” You agreed. 

Soon enough you’d made it to your bed and as soon as you got under the covers he was reaching for you and pulling you against him. You smiled as you snuggled in against him. You felt him kiss your shoulder before he exhaled and you knew it would be so easy to fall asleep tonight.

*************

When you woke up the next morning it wasn’t because of your alarm, it was just a force of habit. But you were shivering from the cold and were pleased that it was apparently raining. You could heard the soft patter against your bedroom window. And then, you heard Harry humming along to John Mayer just a few feet away in the kitchen. Despite wanting to stay tucked away in the warmth of your bed, you got up and hurried into the bathroom to relieve yourself and freshen up a little bit. When you emerged, Harry was back in bed, topless and smiling at you.

“Morning.”

“Good morning.” You smiled.

“You were snoring.”

“I was not…” you mumbled bashfully as you headed back over to the bed.

“You were! But not like, loud or scary, it was just soft.” He described with a grin. “It was cute! Like a cartoon.” He assured you and you rolled your eyes as you got back in bed. “I just put on some coffee.”

“Thanks.” You hummed as you turned on your side to face him.

“Course.”

“Now, c’mere, please. It’s cold.” You requested and he smiled and hurried over into your side. 

“What do you wanna do today?” He asked.

“Be lazy.” You said and he chuckled. “I do have a client to cook for tomorrow, s’just dinner prep, so I should be back around 6-6:30 the latest.” 

“Would you be up to doing something after?” He asked.

“Yeah!” You hummed.

“Something lowkey, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You confirmed.

“Perfect. Now, I’m gonna kiss you.” He mumbled.

He moved closer and leaned in until your lips were meeting slowly but still eager and saturated with passion. Your hand landed on his chest and slid over his shoulder, tugging him into you, inviting him to settle over you. Your legs tangled momentarily as he started to straddle you. He was holding your jaw as your kiss deepened even further. His hands were sliding up your body, dragging your top up as he went. You sat up to help him pull it off and as soon as he was able, he was back on you, his lips littering your chest in kisses and delicate but playful nicks to your breasts. Your fingers combed through his hair, relishing in the sensations he was giving you. You were absolutely desperate for him and your skin was tingling, you were desperate to feel the warmth of his hands over your arms. You wanted to kiss him again and so you tried to tug him up and he quickly got the hint and kissed up your chest, neck, and jaw before kissing you sloppily. You ground up against him to feel the bulge in his thin pajama pants against you. He grinned and ground down against you with more intent. 

“Is that what you want?” He asked and you blinked up at him.

“More.” You whispered and his gaze softened.

“You sure?” He asked you and you nodded.

“Yes. Please.” You beseeched and Harry smiled before kissing you once more. In moments, he was helping you undress. You were both moving impatiently and albeit a little clumsily, but you were absolutely desperate for each other. And as his naked body hovered over yours you finally felt a little bit better. Relieved. “Please get inside me.”

“Okay.” He hummed and kissed your lips once more, “Didn’t think to bring condoms. D-do you have some?” He asked and you huffed.

“No.” You muttered in slight irritation. You hadn’t planned to ask him to have sex with you, if you had, you would have stocked up, just in case.

“Would you care if we didn’t use one?” He asked and you bit your lip pensively. “Obviously, we don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it. And well, I can go buy some really quick and give you some time t-to really think about if you really want to do this. You know, in case you maybe have s-some doubt?” He asked.

“I don’t have any doubts.” You assured him with a smile, “D-do you?” You asked and he shook his head, his little smirk mirroring your own. 

“No. I can go get the condoms.” He said again and you bit your lip for a second.

“Ummm…that’s alright.” You assured him and as happy as he was to hear you say that, he gave it a few seconds to let you change your mind.

“Sure?” He asked again and you nodded.

“I’m so fucking sure.” You whispered through a nervous chuckle and he smiled and kissed you again.

“I’ll be mindful to pull out, okay?” He mumbled into your lips.

“Yeah.” You agreed as you raised your leg over his hips to give him space to get inside of you. You could feel the heat and weight of his cock pressed up against you. “I want you so bad.” You whispered.

“I do too, baby.” He hummed as he ground down, letting his cock settle between the sticky and swollen folds of your pussy. You shivered when his tip kissed at your clit with his soft thrusts. “Right there?” He asked and you nodded frantically.

“Yeah, that feels good.” You confirmed breathily and he smiled as his eyes bore into yours.

“Go on then, get what you need.” He hummed lowly and you wasted no time in grinding along with him at your desired pace. You whined lowly as you started to feel the pleasure escalating from the friction. Just when you were getting close you stopped yourself.

“Want to stop?” He asked you, looking into your eyes to ensure everything was okay.

“No, but I don’t want to come like that.” You explained a bit bashfully. 

“Oh…I see.” He hummed with a smirk on his face that made you blush. “Get me inside then.” You smiled and reached down between your bodies. You grabbed a hold of his cock, he was so fucking hard. You raised your hips a bit as you guided him down to your entrance and when you felt that slight dip you rubbed him over your slit a few times. Your eyes flickered up to his only to see his brows furrowed together at the feeling of being just on the edge of slipping inside of you.

“Do it.” You whispered and he let his weight drop down to his hips and just like that he was being swallowed up by your hot and wet muscle. The two of you moaned in unison when he sunk in all the way and collided with your back wall. He held inside for a few second before groaning as he drew back and sunk in again. You exhaled shakily and grabbed his face to kiss him deeply. “Harder.” You said and he nodded before fucking into you with more force and that was absolutely what you were after. You moaned in relief and he kissed you deeply again.

“Good?” He asked.

“Yeah, it feels so good!” You whined and he hummed in satisfaction.

You were already so close, but you wanted to be closer, as close as was physically possible. You wanted to feel overwhelmed by him in the best way possible. And when he delivered his next thrust harder than before you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your mouth. Harry groaned and went again and again, relishing in the satisfied, little grunts you were making. You were absolutely drenching his cock but you couldn’t help it because he was thrusting up against the most sensational spot inside of you. It was almost too deep for you but you welcomed the feeling, you wanted to feel the ache after he was gone in a few days. And it’s almost like he could read your mind as he thrust in and held himself inside of you, grinding into you, watching as your eyes squeezed shut and you shuddered at the sensation of him fucking you that deep.

“Fuck y’feel so good!” You whimpered as you squeezed your legs around his hips and he grinned as he watched your brows pinching together.

“Not as good as you feel, baby.” He hummed lowly, “So fucking wet and hot…” he grumbled, “Shit…gonna need you so fucking badly. All the time. Gonna be dreaming of how nice it feels.” He muttered against the column of your throat. 

You were completely covered in goosebumps, you were trying to stop your legs from trembling but you wouldn’t be able to hold that off for much longer. It just felt too fucking good…he was hitting a part inside of you that even had your clit tingling, if you rubbed on it, it would truly be too much. As badly as you wanted and needed to come, you wanted him to keep fucking you. For him to be your first fuck after all this time, it was well worth it. You could hear the wet squelches of your arousal slicking up his cock and helping him fit inside of you. His girth and length were to die for and absolutely addictive.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come!” you warned him and he grinned down at you, very pleased with himself for how fucked out he had you already.

“Already?” He gloated slightly and you smiled and nodded. Your vision was even blurry at this point as tears of ecstasy and joy welled up in your eyes. “You’re already so fucking gone f’me, S’gonna wipe you out.” He said smugly and you hummed with a slight smile.

He was right, this orgasm would absolutely ruin you and melt your brain. He was literally fucking you better, quite literally forcing your brain to flood your body with that deliciously and slightly terrifying cocktail of oxytocin and dopamine. You swore your skin was tingling, every single cell in your body was going to contribute to this orgasm. But the longer you held off the more intense everything felt. Your walls were throbbing uncontrollably and you were trying so hard to just hold off for a second to make it last longer but it made it worse, as you squeezed the deep plunges of his cock became even more pleasurable and your legs started to tremble and your breathing to shallow.

“Come on, baby. Give it t’me.” He encouraged you and you nodded before pulling him down to kiss you and as your lips met urgently in a messy kiss you started to come. You emitted these pathetic whines and whimpers you’d never ever made before as the ecstasy took over every single part of your body. You were trying not too make too much noise but you were on fire and it had never felt like that before, it was almost too much! Harry’s lips parted from yours so that you could breathe and properly release your sounds as your hips ground up into his to keep the pleasure going. One of your hands pressed down on his butt, holding him close to you and the other was tangled in the curls at the back of his head. He groaned as you squeezed hard around his cock. Your tight, hot muscles were suffocating and contracting around his girth, he nearly fucking drooled from how delicious it felt to be buried in you like this. “M’gonna come.” He panted.

“Come inside of me.” You slurred and he moaned at the mere idea of getting to flood your hot, little pussy with his sperm. He got goosebumps as he thought about how good it would feel to have you take it all. To pull out and see it dripping from your swollen and wrecked little hole only for him to push his cock back into you and get his load back into you. “Please, come in my pussy.” 

“Fuck, baby…” he chuckled as he pressed his forehead to yours, “I’m gonna come so hard.” He panted, “Gonna drown your little pussy.” He mumbled as his abs started to clench and his toes to curl. And moments later he was grunting through three hard and pointed thrusts before stilling. He pressed right up against you and moaned deeply in satisfaction as he came undone. He felt his muscles spasming, struggling to hold his weight as he started to gush inside of you. You could feel the dramatic twitches of his cock lodged up deep inside of you as he filled you up, just as he promised and it was so good, his hips were moving by his own accord at this point and he was enslaved to the feeling of being inside of you, no matter how sensitive it was starting to feel for him. “Fuck…” he panted lowly. 

You could feel his arms trembling and just hugged him tight, encouraging him to drop his weight over you and he did easily. Your fingers danced and tickled over the heated and slightly damp skin of his back as he came down from it. You were finding comfort in his deep inhales as he continued trying to catch his breath. After a few more moments of this he was still completely silent. You knew there was nothing wrong because he was practically melted against your body, and you smiled and kissed the top of his head as he started to sponged a few sloppy kisses along your jaw. With the little strength he had built up again, he pulled you both onto your sides. He slipped from you with the change in position but you draped your leg over his hip and his hand immediately ran up your leg soothingly while he rested his head over his other arm. You were smiling as you just watched him, he still had his eyes closed as he regulated his breathing.

“You alright there?” You inquired, your voice was a whisper but he could hear the slight hint of smugness in it.

“Just a little light headed.” He chuckled his confession and you giggled and reached for his face. You caressed the side of his face lovingly with the backs of your fingers.

“Want me t’get you some water?” You asked.

“No, stay here with me.” He responded and you smiled.

“‘Kay.” You whispered. You just watched him for a few seconds until he slowly blinked his eyes open. You smiled as he squinted a bit.

“Jesus, I’m seeing spots.” He laughed lowly through his admission and you started to giggle along with him. “Don’t laugh at me.” He griped and you leaned forward and smooched over his pouted lips.

“M’not. I’m laughing with you.” You mumbled against his mouth and he quickly kissed your lips back.

“Sure…” he hummed and finally opened his eyes and met your adoring gaze.

“We’re going again later, right?” You asked and he laughed for a moment before kissing you again and nodding.

“Oh absolutely. I might not be able to walk but it’ll be worth it.” He mumbled into your kiss-swollen lips.

“God…but good.” You giggled, completely satisfied with his response.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” He whispered and you glanced away bashfully and instead focused on the swallow tattooed over his left pectoral.

“Neither do I.” You admitted and he smiled as you leaned closer and buried your face into the crook of his neck and took a deep inhale before placing a kiss at the base of his throat. 

There was only one thought at the forefront of his mind right now and it was that there was absolutely no world in which this didn’t end with him falling absolutely and hopelessly in love with you. He loved everything about you and what he’d seen of your life so far, he couldn’t wait to experience it for the rest of the days he’d be here with you.

Several Days Later…

You didn’t want to verbalize just how perfect the last several days had been with Harry in case you were to jinx it, but you were certainly thinking about it with each passing minute. You had clients that day so you had to leave Harry at your place for but it was  so lovely to return to a clean home and a meal. As soon as you walked in you could smell the lingering fresh scent of cleaning products but were mostly overpowered by what you were kind of hoping was a bolognese sauce. Thankfully, you were able to make off from your last client with a little extra dessert, so you had something to contribute for tonight.

“Smell’s amazing!” You announced your arrival as you slipped out of your shoes. 

Harry didn’t respond so you figured he was in the shower or something. And as you walked further in you saw that the table was set and two long stick candles were lit, giving the setting a more intimate feel. You bit your lip to hold back your excitement. It was your last night together, so you weren’t surprised that Harry was pulling out all the stops until the next time you got to be together. You headed towards your bedroom to change into a fresh and more comfortable outfit and when you stepped inside you saw Harry just standing at the window and glancing out towards the busy street below.

“Harry?” You called in question and he sniffled and turned around. 

“Sorry, I was trying to collect myself-”

“What happened? What’s wrong?” You asked quickly as you let your purse drop to the floor and rushed over to him.

“Your mom called,” he said and you immediately though the worst, your heart dropped, “Julie told them that she’s pregnant.” He said and you stopped right before you reached him. Not as terrifying as you thought but still incredibly fucking awful. Your features furrowed in disappointment and your stomach turned as the information processed. Harry hurried over to you, “Baby, it’s not me. It couldn’t be, we haven’t slept together since like August!” He explained and you nodded and let him take your hands. “But they don’t know that.”

“Ask for a paternity test.” You said right away.

“I will.” He assured you. “I guess she said she wasn’t feeling well so your mom drove her to the urgent care and they found out. Your mom called me all excited about it… I just don’t want to humiliate her.” He explained.

“And that’s very noble and considerate of you, Harry. But you do realize that she’s trying to put you in an impossible position.” You said and he frowned. “You deserve to do this. To have a family on your own terms, Harry.” You said and he nodded.

“I-I don’t even know what to do about this.” He stammered, still in shock.

“This is going to sound awful but…tell your lawyer.” You said and he sighed. “She’s willing to force you into this situation when you had nothing to do with it. If she has to prove paternity she will have to be honest. She loves Joey and she did this with him, they need to figure this out together.”

“You’re right.” He conceded. “Ummm… I’m not feeling too hungry any more. I’m sorry.” He said and glanced down at the floor.

“That’s alright. I understand.” You assured him. “I also understand if you…need some space.” You said and he glanced into your eyes again.

“Yeah… I ummm…I should go.” He said and you nodded, “They’re expecting me to look after her since she isn’t feeling well. And the drive’ll help, I think.” He muttered, but he was quite absent.

“Okay.” You said softly and he just walked around you and into your closet to grab his suitcase. You just watched silently as he robotically and haphazardly just dumped his things into the luggage before shutting it and wheeling it out. You followed after him as he headed to the entrance and slipped into his sneakers. 

“Harry.” You said and he glanced up at you. You could see his eyes welled up with tears. “Please be safe.” You said and he nodded before rushing out. As soon as the door shut your own tears started to trickle down your face. 

You were relieved when he texted you that he’d gotten home and assured him that if he needed to talk at all that you’d be there for him. But you felt so angry at your sister for this one. How could she do this to him? It was awful and selfish behavior. You wanted to call her but this wasn’t your battle to fight.

Harry’s POV:

Harry felt completely blindsided by Isabel’s phone call about Julie. He felt sick to his stomach as he parked in the garage because Isabel was still at their house, her car was up front and he had no idea how he would swallow down all that devastation and dread he was feeling. He didn’t want to ruin Isabel’s excitement but pretending that he was happy about this…having to hold and kiss Julie, congratulate her for something he had nothing to do with, it made him sick to his stomach. He texted you to let you know that he’d made it safely and you immediately loved his message and with that he made it inside. 

“Oh good! You’re home!” Isabel greeted him excitedly as soon as Harry made it inside from the garage. He put on a smile and nodded, approaching her to greet her. 

“Yeah, sorry it took me a while. I was out in LA.” He explained.

“No problem, as long as you made it safe!” She said as she opened her arms and he ducked down a bit to hug her and kiss her cheek. “Congrats, mijo.” She hummed happily as she gave him a firm squeeze.

“Thank you.” He responded as they pulled away slowly.

“I’m just making her some ginger tea, she’s been very nauseous.” Isabel explained.

“Thank you, I’m gonna go see her now.”

“Yes, please!” She insisted, beaming from ear to ear and he smiled and made his way out of the kitchen. 

Every step he took up towards the bedroom made him even more sick to his stomach. He hoped there was extra of that ginger tea because this was getting to be too much. When he made it to the top landing he saw the bedroom door open and he made his way over to see Julie scrolling through her phone. 

“Hey.” She greeted him solemnly.

“Hi.” He said quite cooly.

“Look-”

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He cut her off and she frowned.

“Not while my mom is here, Harry.” She sighed.

“No. We’re doing this right now.” He insisted as he pushed the door back leaving it slightly ajar.

“Then close it all the way.” She said.

“Then we won’t hear her coming. I won’t raise my voice if you don’t.” He said and she sighed. “There is no way you didn’t know.” He insisted, “When did you find out?” 

“On Monday.” She said, “I missed my period last week and I took two tests on Monday. One positive and the other inconclusive. Sometimes it can be stress or other things that impact so I figured I should go and find out.”

“And you had to take your mom to do that?”

“I was scared!” She defended herself.

“Then you should’ve asked Joe.” He retorted.

“I didn’t want him to freak out!”

“But you’re okay with your mom thinking that I got you pregnant?!” He asked angrily and her eyes started welling up. “You have to tell your parents now, Julie.” He said.

“Harry, please-”

“No! I’m not going to take responsibility for this!”

“And what if he leaves me?” She asked and Harry’s eyes softened for a moment.

“I-I don’t know but you have been cheating on me for months! We haven’t slept together since last year! This has nothing to do with me, Julie!” He was trying not to raise his voice but he was so hurt and angry at her. “You don’t love me and I know for a fact you don’t want this with me.” Harry finished and she started to sniffle as her tears fell. “You have to tell your family the truth!” He urged.

“Do you know how humiliating that will be!?”

“If you had agreed to the divorce when I brought it up not as much as it might be now! If you don’t come clean to your parents about this I will involve my lawyer and demand a paternity test! And we both know what the result will be.”

“I need more time.” She said softly.

“You have until the end of the month.”

“Harry-”

“You tell them or I do.” He said sternly.

Isabel’s POV:

She hadn’t meant to eaves drop, she just wanted to come ask Julie if she would want some toast with her tea to settle her stomach when she heard the hushed argument.

“Harry, please-”

“No! I’m not going to take responsibility for this!” She heard Harry respond. She almost intervened when she heard this, feeling so much anger rising up in her at the sound of her son-in-law being so disinterested and cold after finding out he would be a father!

“And what if he leaves me?” Julie asked and she stopped from reaching for the door. She was momentarily frozen in shock as she processed Julie’s concern.

“I-I don’t know but you have been cheating on me for months! We haven’t slept together since last year! This has nothing to do with me, Julie!”

Isabel could hear it in his voice that he felt bad but if this was not his child, he truly had no obligation to her. Especially if she had been having an affair for who knows how long.

“You don’t love me and I know for a fact you don’t want this with me.” Harry added. “You have to tell your family the truth!” 

“Do you know how humiliating that will be!?” Julie cried quietly and Isabel frowned and started to back away, hearing faintly about previous discussions of a divorce. This was very private and she had heard more than she probably should have. 

She was completely taken by surprise and immediately felt so bad for Harry and the situation that she had unintentionally put him in. She could only imagine how devastated he felt knowing that his wife was pregnant with another man’s child. A man that might not even stick around to help her or support her with this. Obviously she would always love her daughter, but it didn’t mean that she would always support her choices and this choice…to have an extramarital affair. To not grant Harry the divorce he had seemingly asked for before when she didn’t even love him anymore. The gall to ask him to stick around if the other man didn’t… it did not sit well with her and made her feel so frustrated at her. She hoped that Julie would say something soon because there was no way she could keep quiet for too long. Harry had been so good to all of them and he did not deserve that.

FINAL PART...

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