#pub crawl turned girl's night

[charliemwrites]

Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

“I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

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[jarofstyles]

Stacy’s Mom

Stacy’s mom has got it goin’ on… and Harry’s definitely been noticing for a while.

We haven’t seen a lot of reverse age gap fics and figured it was our time to contribute to the cause. We hope you enjoy!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 150+ exclusive writings

Warnings- age gap, unprotected sex, teasing, creampie, soft dom!H

———————

His lip was bitten as he watched her walk across the backyard, sunglasses hiding his gaze. The back of her sundress brushed the softness of her thighs, her hair pulled up in a claw clip as she placed snacks down on the glass table for the group of friends that often frequented the pool at her house. The very house she had won in the divorce just three years ago. 

Stacy’s parents had always been generous when it came to letting their home be the epicenter of their friend groups’ hang out. It didn’t stop when they all came home from uni for the summer, everyone falling back into their routine with the hometown group, or after they’d graduated and some had stayed in town. Drunken food at the diner, pub crawls- legally this time-, the mall, the summer carnival, and movie nights and pool days at Stacy’s house. It was spacious and clean and it had only changed a little bit since the divorce. Her hotshot lawyer father paid a nice big chunk of change in alimony keeping the comfortable lifestyle afloat, one Harry was aiming to get for himself. Hopefully after he opened up a garage or two, he’d be able to grab a house like this. Make someone happy. 

The problem is, the last three summers all he could think about was someone he definitely shouldn’t be. 

It was no secret that she was incredible. Everyone loved Y/N from the start and not just because she was the ‘cool, young mom’ who didn’t make them call her by her last name. She was genuinely kind, loved to make them snacks, would pick up anyone who needed it, let them nurse their hangovers at their house and made them the greasy breakfasts they needed to get through the mornings. The woman was an angel- and she had an exterior to match. 

It seemed like in the last few years though, she had been rediscovering herself and her body. Dressing in ways she hadn’t before, ways he knew Stacy’s father wouldn’t like. Denim shorts and tank tops, sundresses, the like. Things that made Harry’s crush morph from minor to major. Y/N had become the centerfold to his wet dreams, the woman he compared other girls to, the one he closed his eyes and imagined in the shower when he was stroking off. He watched her in her kitchen while she chopped up fruit for them, her back turned and imagined approaching her from behind and placing kisses on her neck, hiking the dress up and offering her all the fun she could want. 

There was something so tempting about the older woman. Harry’d always sort of had that preference, but it had intensified as he grew up. His friends liked to prod at him about being into MILFs and he couldn’t deny it. He was. There was certainly one mother he’d love to fuck, and it was Stacy’s. In all honesty, it was half the reason he kept showing up here. 

“I hate to say it, Stace- your mom is banging.” Jeremy said what Harry was thinking but got a smack upside the head with a waterlogged pool noodle, making him yelp. 

“Do not talk about my mom like that you freak!” She hissed. “She’s a beautiful woman but none of you are going to even think about her in any way but my mother.” Her warning glare did little to deter Harry, though he merely shrugged at her to get her to think he agreed. There was no way in the world that he would ever turn away a chance to be alone with Y/N. He would beg on his knees for a chance to touch her. 

“Don’t look at me! I’m just saying it. Harry’s the one who’s the MILF Hunter.” Jacob snickered, making him raise an eyebrow. It was true and he wanted to smirk- because yes, he’d fucked a few older women before. Being a mechanic during the week and a bartender during the weekend had their perks, including women who found him to be more than a bit interesting. There had been a few instances he’d taken them up on their offers, quelling their loneliness and lack of orgasm with his own brand of fun. But none of them had ever appealed to him quite like Y/N. 

The forbidden fruit theory, maybe. He really, really shouldn’t even entertain it. A crush turned into an obsession though, he was fucked. The moment he thought he had a chance, he would be taking it. As cocky as he could be, he knew he would be able to handle her. 

“Yeah, but Harry’s not going to say stupid shit to my mom.” She huffed. 

With a smirk on his face, Harry gave a half ass nod before watching the woman of discussion shoot them a beaming smile across the yard before she turned to go back inside. Harry’s eyes ate up every curve, every drop, every inch of skin he could see before she closed the sliding glass door to the deck. 

If only she knew. 

——

Harry was sitting at home when he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. People usually gave his number out to people who had car trouble, knowing he was reliable and could always use a bit of cash. It wasn’t something he minded, but he was exhausted tonight. Sitting down in his apartment, he exhaled slowly before clicking the green button to answer the phone. 

“Hello, who’s this?” He asked gruffly, his slight agitation bleeding into his tone.

“H-Hi! I’m so sorry to call you so late, but it’s Y/N. Stacy’s mum.” She said shyly. “I’m sorry to bother you Harry, but my car… it’s not starting. I was meant to go to the grocery but it’s just making this noise and-“ 

His whole body shot up straight as he got confirmation as to who it was. Was it some sort of joke? Or were the angels smiling down on him for once? Any ache in his body and heaviness in his eye disappeared as he stood up from the sofa, making his way towards the door. 

“M’on my way. It’s no trouble.” He said in a softer tone, thankful he had already showered. Maybe he’d need to do it again, but he wanted to look halfway decent for Y/N. “It’ll be about 15 for me to get over there.” 

“Oh-are you sure?” Her voice was slightly hesitant. “You sound tired and I can order groceries if I need to, I really don’t want to put you out.” 

“Promise, it’s not a big deal.” He assured her, tucking his wallet into his jeans before opening his front door. “I’d always help you with whatever you need. Didn’t mean t’’sound so grumpy, I didn’t know it was you calling.” He’d have been halfway to her house if he had known. “Give me 15 and I’ll be there.”

“As long as you’re sure.” He could tell she was doing the worried thing she usually did with her fingers touching her bottom lip. There had been a lot of silent observing on his end towards the woman and he could almost see her in his head. “I’ll make sure to make it up to you.” 

Even though there was nothing suggestive in her tone, Harry could feel his prick stiffen up at the mere thought of it meaning something more. It took the whole drive there to will it down. 

—-

Harry arrived to the house to see the garage doors open- and Stacy’s car gone. 

Was this his divine intervention? He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he knew she had to be gone. Harry was the one who did all the work on their cars, so it wasn’t in the shop. More than likely they’d be all alone. 

The summer night was cooling off a bit but there was still a decent amount of daylight left. The stickiness had subsided and it was far more comfortable than he had been at work all day in his damn coveralls. He’d sweat up a storm and cringed the moment he’d had a moment to himself, hating how hot the garage got in the summer months. His own garages would have proper AC one day. 

He was thankful for the heat though when he saw Y/N come out from the garage, her lavender dress obviously a swimsuit cover up. The straps of a bikini were underneath it, the halter top of the dress tied behind her neck. It was shorter than her normal dresses making Harry peer up at the sky and ask anyone who was up there to lend him some strength in order to not pop a stiffy in front of her- at least not yet. 

“You really didn’t have to come out so quickly. I didn’t think before calling you.” Y/N crossed her arms as she walked towards the younger man who was fishing his toolbox out of the back of his pickup truck. She couldn’t help but admire how much of a man he’d truly become. Tattooed now, shown off by his black tank top. Hair a bit unruly and curled. Stubble on his upper lip and jaw. He was a man now, not a hint of boy in the slightest, and it was a little intimidating. She remembered him when he was far more lanky, 19 and shy. Now he was 23, with larger arms and broadened shoulders, a pretty set of lips and a husky voice. Things she shouldn’t have been paying attention to. 

There had been a bit of tension between them somehow, tension she hadn’t been able to pinpoint where it had begun. The one thing she did know is that he was an observer. His eyes were watching her when she came out and he kept eye contact as they spoke, like he was giving her every bit of attention he had when she was talking. Maybe it was the heart sickness she felt but it was so nice to feel listened to, appreciated. Harry always helped clean up, always told her daughter to be respectful to her mum, always asked her how her day was. He was a complete gentleman every time he came over and she had to wonder how much of a problem it was for her to sort of wish for that attention all the time. 

Ever since she had found out Patrick had been cheating on her, she’d felt a bit used. Dirty. Of course marrying a man 10 years her senior who was a hotshot lawyer had probably been her first sign something would go wrong, but he used to dote on her. That was until she began to age. It wasn’t like she was old- she could probably still have a kid if she wanted! But she’d gotten pregnant at 17 and Patrick had been quick to marry her on her 18th birthday. A problematic union at best, but she’d tried to be happy. She was provided for and had a beautiful home and daughter, one so smart she was able to skip around in school! But… she’d never felt truly loved. Not that toe curling, soft eyed, tummy turning love that she’d always imagined. 

Not even the passion she wanted. All she wanted at this point was for someone to want her. To make a move, to show her she was sexy and prove that her newfound revelations were true. 

The last three years had been tearing herself down to build back up. There was some part of her that felt 22 again, wanting to live the life she hadn’t been able to as a young mum. But that didn’t mean she had to look at Harry the way her brain was trying to. 

“Stacy is at a concert a few hours away otherwise I would have just asked her to borrow her car.” Having him here now made her feel all the more ridiculous for calling him over for such a stupid reason. Tomorrow would have at least been during normal work hours.

“Y/N.” Harry’s hand rested on her shoulder, making her breath catch quietly. “S’fine. I’m more than happy to help you. Alright?” His thumb rubbed over the cuff of her shoulder before he gently lifted his hand away, carrying his toolbox further into the garage. 

She felt a bit buzzed, as pathetic as it was. It had been so long since a man had touched her, let alone a younger, attractive one. It made her feel like her brain had fogged up. 

“Keys in the ignition?” He murmured. “Want t’see what we’re working with.” 

It was enough to shake her out of her fog, nodding a bit too eagerly as he gave her a soft smile, sitting himself in the driver’s seat. She leaned against the garage door as she watched him turn it over a few times to no avail, making her worry her bottom lip between her teeth. She had no idea about anything car related and luckily it had all been minor stuff until now. Her ex had the cars serviced every few months and she had been dropping the ball. What if it was bad? What if she needed a new engine and Harry thought she was an awful car owner? What if-

Her train of thought was snapped out of it as he let out a chuckle, standing up from the seat. “I know what it is. Isn’t a big problem at all.” He walked over to his toolbox. “Battery is dead. You may have accidentally left the key in, or a door open, maybe a light on. Not a big deal. I’ll just give it a jump.” 

While he didn’t seem annoyed about it at all, Y/N felt very, very dumb. How could she have not known that’s what it was? Something so easy to fix. Her cheeks burned as she cringed, feeling the guilt well up in her body for making him come out when she could have just asked a neighbor for a jump. 

It took him just a few tries with her following his instruction to turn the car on when she said so in order for her car to turn on as if nothing had happened. It was slightly humiliating.

“Oh, god… Harry, I’m so sorry.” She groaned. “I’m not… I’m not good with cars and I thought the engine was dead or something big happened to it. I made you leave your house for no reason. I can’t begin to say how awful I feel.” It felt even more embarrassing because it was such a quick fix and he was an expert in cars. She probably seemed like a bobble head. 

“Woah- S’okay.” He closed the hood of her car and detached the jumper cables. “It’s actually a good thing. I’d rather it be a quick fix than something that would cost you thousands. That’s the ideal. No one is an expert in cars right away and m’sure that the whole thing was probably be a bit troubling if it’s the first time it’s happened to you.” His voice tried to soothe her worries away. The man truly looked unbothered by it all, happy to help- but still. 

“Well… if you’re sure.” It still felt hot around her cheeks as she made her way towards the door leading to the kitchen. “Come inside, I’ll get you something for helping me.” 

Harry let out a sigh as she waited at the door for him, tucking his toolbox and cables back into his car before following her inside. A mixture of giddiness and nerves rocked through his system as she led him towards the kitchen where her handbag was. Alone with her at last- and with a good excuse. No one would question him coming over to help with the car. Surely, Stacy had given her his number. He had every right to be here. 

So why couldn’t he extend his stay? 

“How much do I owe you?” Her hair fell in her face as she looked down into her bag, fishing around for her wallet. It was always a bit of a mess with receipts she needed to toss, makeup she needed to put away, a first aid kit she’d only really ever needed once- all the things making it more difficult to find her wallet. So difficult that she didn’t notice how close he got until his warm, slightly calloused hand closed over hers, gently pulling it out of the bag. 

Her heart stuttered as she raised her head to look at him. Tanned skin from being out in the sun, a few freckles here and there. A birthmark near his mouth she’d never noticed. He had more scruff than the last time she had seen him too, making her mouth dry a bit as she blinked up at the man, her hand suddenly feeling much smaller in his own. He was a bit too close but there was no desire in the slightest to pull back.

“You know me a bit better than t’think that I’d charge you for a jump.” His voice was low, soft. A volume it didn’t need to be for it being just the two of them. He also didn’t need to be this close to her, close enough to smell a warm, woodsy soap on him and mint from the gum he was usually chewing. Her body felt hot under where he touched her, heartbeat quickening at his unforgiving eye contact. 

“B-but you came all the way out here.” She whispered back. It wasn’t necessary to talk that low but it was following his tone, the tension palpable in the room. “I’d feel awful for making you come for nothing. I really should pay you.” His stare was intimidating but also… a bit addicting. He didn’t look away from her- no, his eyes looked over her face. Maybe she had imagined the lingering at her lips, but part of her hoped she didn’t. 

“Have you had dinner yet?” His question made her slightly confused, not the response she had been expecting. 

“No, why? Did you want me to cook for you?” That made her perk up a bit. She had to do something to repay him. It wouldn’t be right not to. 

“No. I want t’cook for you.” His words were matter of fact. There was no way she didn’t believe his desire to do so, considering he looked so sure of himself. It just was a bit confusing. Her brows furrowed, head tilting a little as she turned more towards him- all too aware he hadn’t dropped her hand from his grip yet- giving him that questioning look. “You have the ingredients for chicken teriyaki? Rice?” When she nodded, his eyes glanced over to the pineapple in her fruit bowl. “Saw a recipe on how t’make it in a pineapple bowl. Was going to do it this weekend but I’d like to make it here. A bit more room in this kitchen and… it’d be nice to eat with someone.” He wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d like to eat with her. “May I?”

“I- I mean of course you can, but it doesn’t… how is it payment for you? For you to be the one to cook me dinner?” It was a bit hard for her to understand. She was the one who did the cooking for everyone else and it sounded like he was doing her yet another favor. 

“Because you’re fun to be around, nice to talk to, I won’t have t’shop for the ingredients, and m’starving.” It was self explanatory to him. He wanted to get away with spending as much time with her as possible. Especially when she seemed to be so shocked at the idea of someone being nice to her without the thought of repayment. It sort of pissed him off. “Just sit and talk to me while I cook. It’ll be nice to hear you without people interjecting.” 

Y/N hadn’t realized he had noticed that. His back was already turned, going through her fridge to get the chicken out along with some of the ingredients for the sauce but her brain was still on that. Had his shoulders always been that broad? Harry had always been quiet and observant. The nice guy, sweet and thoughtful but he didn’t seem to take any of the friend groups shit. Stacy was the youngest out of them all and he’d always been thoughtful about her. Protective over her feelings- to the point Y/N had assumed Harry had a bit of a crush on her at first. That proved to be false when she’d heard about Harry being set up with one of the mothers of the kid’s Stacy taught swim lessons to. 

One of her faults was indeed being nosy, and she’d listened in on her daughter when she dropped off lunch to the pool talking to said mother. She was definitely younger than herself with a much younger child but she apparently had one good night with Harry before he politely decided not to see her again. 

She wasn’t dumb. Y/N heard their teasing of Harry liking older women… and perhaps that’s why he made her a tad bit nervous. It wasn’t like he’d ever made a move, but he had a sensual air around him. He’d been gentle with her today, but never inappropriate. Was it bad to wish he would?

The answer was a resounding yes, it was not at all something she should ever want- but that didn’t mean that’s what her brain was thinking. 

She pulled out a pineapple wine she’d gotten as a gift, never a more appropriate time. A glass was poured for each of them as Harry went about the motions, preparing and chopping and starting the rice. Maybe adding alcohol into the mix wasn’t the smartest idea, but she needed something to take the nervous edge off.

“Is it lonely in a big house like this?” Harry asked as he dropped the chicken into the pan. “When Stace is gone, does it feel a little daunting?” 

“Sometimes.” She pursed her lips. “It’s been my house for a while now so I’m used to all the noises and I know all the neighbors. You can hear the kids playing outside, lawnmowers, or people getting home from work.‘At night it can be… it can be a bit unnerving. Cold. But Patrick was gone a lot of nights at the office, so it’s nothing I’m not used to.” A bitter scoff left her as she took a sip of wine before shaking her head, face falling. “Sorry. I know that’s the last thing you want to hear about.” 

“No.” He said simply. “I’d like to. I don’t mind.” His tongue ran over his bottom lip before he met her eyes, placing his wine glass on the counter. “Everyone needs someone to vent to sometimes, Y/N. Know m’younger than you and all but I’m not clueless when it comes to relationships.” A gentle smile softened the blow of the words. “Tell me about it if you want. You don’t have to censor yourself. Not around me. It’s just us.” 

There was a burn in her belly at the last few words. It felt… really fucking nice to be told that. That he wanted to earnestly hear her talk. He was an incredible listener, she found. It made her wonder how much of what she said in the past he had really heard. 

“Uh… well…” twirling the glass in her hand, her fingers tightened around the stem as she had to break eye contact with him. It was making her feel a little light headed. “He was cheating, as I’m sure you know. Stacy didn’t take it well. She’d cut up all his ties by the time I found her.” Her smile quirked on her lips. Her daughter had a thirst for revenge. “It was worse when I found out it wasn’t just one person but multiple women. All at his job. It’s why he moved firms.” Her lips tightened as she looked towards the sliding glass door that was open to let the air in, the sun having started to set just a bit ago. A golden glow ran over the kitchen and she had a hard time not staring at the man in front of her. 

“I… I’m not sure how much you know of myself and Patrick, but we were in a relationship when I turned 17. He was 27. I thought it was very impressive and I was so mature for my age that he chose me, but it wasn’t. It was wrong. And when I got pregnant, we had to hide it until I turned 18 and he could marry me. His parents were lovely grandparents to Stacy but awful parents to him in the way they enabled his behavior. So for a long time I just thought it was a big star crossed love story when in reality, he stole my youth from me. I don’t ever regret my daughter- don’t get me wrong.” Her look was desperate for him to believe her, but he didn’t seem to have any judgment on his face. It was a breath of fresh air considering people usually gave her pitying looks this far along. 

“I love her and I wouldn’t change it. Everything happens for a reason but… I’m just a bit bitter now. My best years spent on him and he’s fucking other women because I’m ’showing my age’ and I’m essentially aged out.” Her face curled in disgust. “I work hard on my body! I keep up with my appearance! You know? I’m not lazy. I didn’t let myself go which- even if I did, that’s no fucking excuse for cheating. Marriage was supposed to be for love, for better or for worse. At least that's what I naively thought.” It had been so long since she had someone to talk to, someone who didn’t seem to fucking judge her or try and tell her it was okay. Harry merely nodded, keeping his eyes trained on her face as she got it out. 

“It should be what marriage is for.” He replied in a bit of a lull. “I mean, I’ve never been married but… S’a simple enough concept to understand. I don’t think you were naive in thinking that. He was just a dick for taking advantage of you.” Harry didn’t like Patrick much from the start. He’d been a show off, obviously trying to compensate for something. He’d sort of steamrolled over things Y/N used to say, and even though he’d only seen them married for a few times he came over. It was a good thing they divorced in his humble opinion, and not just because he was a bit obsessed with the woman standing in front of him. She seemed to grow from it, her confidence rising tenfold.  He’d been holding her back. “I don’t think there’s much wrong with an age gap… as long as the parties are both of legal age.” He chopped the pineapple in half, making sure to make it even. “So, m’sorry you had to go through that. Stacy is great, but I wish you didn’t have to feel that way. It’s shit.” 

Y/N felt a bit validated with his words. Maybe it was the wine, but she had a feeling it was just his presence that had her relaxing. He was right on all counts, but it was a little hard to accept at times after being manipulated her whole adult life. Someone was agreeing with her that weren’t her own parents. “Thank you.” She whispered. “I’m glad at least you think so. People kept telling me that marriages have bumps in the road and I was being a bit rash, filing for divorce so quickly after I found out but… Cheating is just not something I can stomach. I think they were thinking about his money, his reputation. Cared more about how he would be seen than if I was happy. I had to do a lot of cleaning up after the divorce. Friends I had for years chose his side and… yeah. I’ve been a little lonely.” A sad laugh left her before she cleared her throat. The man probably didn’t want to hear about that. “But luckily I’ve found more fulfilling things. It’s nice when you guys come around.” Her smile grew genuinely. “I’ve always liked taking care of people. That was one perk of being in the situation I was. Being a mum was great. It’s a bit jarring now though, with her out of the house the majority of the time. So, in the long roundabout answer to your first question- yes, the big house is a bit daunting sometimes.” 

Y/N had rambled and babbled. Harry had been happy to listen, attentive even while cooking. She knew she may be embarrassed later about spilling her fucking guts out to him when he had only come over to fix her not so broken car and decided he wanted to make her dinner, but it was so fucking refreshing to have someone in her kitchen with her. 

It was embarrassing how much she missed male attention. She’d wanted to clench her thighs together when he grabbed her shoulder earlier and it was pathetic, but it was hard not to notice how wonderful Harry was. He was hardworking, intelligent, sweet, charitable, understanding and stupidly fucking handsome. He could cook too, apparently. Something her ex husband could never even attempt. 

“Thank you for sharin’ all that with me.” His voice was even and smooth as he gave her a gentle smile. “I, for one, am glad you divorced him. I think you’re incredible. You don’t deserve someone who’ll step out on you. Let out multiple times.” It truly did piss him off. The man had a woman who was willing to give the world and still managed to be greedy for other women and fucked it up. “I’ve never really understood that sort of thing but, I think you’re too good for him anyways. Know you said you feel like you wasted your youth and by the risk of sounding a bit cliche, age is just a number in this instance. You can do anything you want now that you think you would have wanted to do back then. And..” He smirked slightly. “You look like you could still be in your twenties. So I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Him acting like aging is a sin in any situation is fucking dumb considering it’s something unavoidable and sorta beautiful if you ask me. Older, wiser, more experience. It’s a good thing. To me, at least.” 

Y/N did know of his taste for older women and though she had no intention of bringing it up, she seemingly couldn’t keep her mouth shut tonight. Without permission from her mouth, the words fell out like a tumble. “Is that why you go for older women?”

The room fell silent for a minute and she could feel the return of the heat under her cheeks, eyes widening as she snapped her hand over her mouth. It wasn’t something she wanted him to know that she knew, but too fucking late now. His head tilted back up, eyes falling on her own wide ones before he let out a laugh. A reaction she hadn’t expected in the slightest. Her hand fell in a motion to try and apologize but he lifted his own to stop her, calming from the laughter as he shook his head. 

“Fuck, M’sorry. I didn’t mean t’laugh, but you looked like you scared the shit out of yourself.” He giggled, running his fingers over the corners of his mouth as they curled into a smirk. “It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize. We’re both adults here.” A clear definition that he was definitely seeing himself on her level. “It’s okay t’ask me about, love. I’m fine talking about it. You just told me details about your divorce so this seems a little tame in comparison.”

As much as she hated herself for it, her stomach flipped at the term of endearment. Harry and her hadn’t spent much time alone before but he had never called her that before. Maybe it was a bit of a bond forming being alone with him. He’d always been a bit ahead of the others in terms of maturity. Not in a creepy way like Patrick used to say about her, but in a genuine hard working way. He’d taken his jobs, career, and promises seriously. It was hard not to know how reliable he was when people constantly used that word to describe him. Seeing him as more of an equal instead of his daughter’s friend was easy when they weren’t around. There was that old soul type of thing she liked.

“I obviously did not mean for that to come out of my mouth. But uh-” She ran a hand over her dress to self-soothe. “I heard them teasing about you and one of the mum’s of the kids Stacy teaches had been bragging about…” The woman didn’t need to finish her stance before Harry laughed through his nose, trying to hide his smirk. 

“Ah.” He nodded, turning the heat off on the stove and pouring the sauce onto the chicken. “Yeah. I do, I’ve always preferred older women. I get teased for it but it’s just what I’m attracted to.” There was that thought in his mind though, wondering what the woman had been bragging about. He’d sure as hell fucked her well and thoroughly, but at the end of it he had opened his eyes and it wasn’t Y/N. It’s his common problem these days. Falling out of interest when he realized he was chasing a feeling from people that weren’t the object of his affections. “I went out with her once… went back to her place.” He shrugged. “It was alright. I was pretty up front about not being sure we clicked but she wanted me to come in, so…” He shrugged. The girl didn’t seem to have hard feelings when she texted him a few days later asking for a repeat and he declined because he was going to be here for a get together. 

“Can I ask why?” Morbid curiosity, that’s what she would call it. It was killing her since she had found out though. Why does a young man, almost in his prime, go for older women specifically? Not that she didn’t think they weren’t worth that, but it wasn’t the norm. “If it’s not too personal.”

“You can get personal with me, Y/N. I don’t mind.” He clarified, dishing some rice into the pineapple bowls he’d carved out. “I think there’s a few aspects to it but I appreciate maturity. One of my first experiences was with someone a few years older than me and it kept going from there. I enjoy intelligent conversation. Someone who can keep up and not just talk about the things girls my age talk about. Nothing wrong with them at all, but every time I’ve tried dating someone my age it’s fallen flat. I enjoy dates at nice restaurants or at home. Cooking for them, listening to music. I work a lot, I’m not much for clubs. Even pub crawls have been a lot for me at times considering I work at a bar on the weekends, work all day in a garage. People my age don’t usually seem to understand or appreciate my work ethic but.. I want a house like this one day.” He motioned around the kitchen. “I’ve been saving loads of money, staying in my apartment and making sure I don’t spend crazily. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic, so I want t’provide for someone one day. Maybe that’s a little old fashioned but It’s fulfilling to me. Want to open my own garage, maybe multiple and… I dunno, older women have always been more receptive to my plans, to the way I am. And I’m not a huge texter. I like phone calls, seeing someone in person. Dating my age is a lot of that.”

It wasn’t a shock to her that his ethics would be a turn off for younger women who sometimes got a bit in their head about the attention they needed. It wasn’t a drag or anything of that nature, but a lot of younger women relied on that sort of thing. Texting all day that he obviously wouldn’t be able to do. They deserved the relationships they wanted but so did Harry. It was a surprisingly nice answer from him. He had lots of decent reasons that made her feel a little more intrigued than she should be, but she couldn’t help it. The man was alluring. 

“And… permission to overshare a little bit?” He asked, wanting to test the waters. Y/N looked intrigued, nodding as she leaned on the counter. “Older women tend to be a bit more.. Compatible with me sexually. A bit more eager. Some are experienced but it isn’t really about that, it’s about knowing what you want. Being a little less shy in asking for what they want. Everyone’s different of course, but I find that a disappointing amount of men aren’t giving women what they want, and I’ve been happy to provide that. I’m a giver, it’s what I like. So…” His pink tongue ran over his bottom lip as he kept eye contact with her. “There’s that aspect of it too.” 

Y/N could feel the slight throb between her legs as he spoke. There was no hint of shyness in his face as he spoke to her, just matter of fact. He had no shame, if anything he seemed.. A little smug. Something that oddly made her stomach flip and flutter  as he pushed her plate towards her and settled on the opposite side of the island, sitting on the stool. 

“I.. I can see that.” She murmured, knowing she must look a little flustered. Considering it had been years since she’d had sex, just the way he was looking at her was working her up a bit further than she would ever want to admit. “I think..” If he was oversharing, maybe she should too. Or maybe that was the slight buzz the wine had provided. “I’m still trying to learn what it is I want. I was only with one person my whole life and then… After the divorce I had a one night stand and it was not at all satisfying. I’ve meant to try and go on dates more often but the few I’ve been on just didn’t feel right.” It wasn’t something she talked about often at all. She had her two girlfriends she talked to about sex- or lack thereof- and the toys they got in order to satisfy what their dates couldn’t. 

This little tidbit had Harry leaning in a bit closer, chewing the first bite of his food. It was surprisingly good for a recipe he’d found on a social media site, but he was far more interested in what Y/N had to say. “I mean it’s only natural, isn’t it? To be curious?” He waved his fork in the air. “Was he satisfying you in your marriage?” The look on her face was all he needed to see for an answer. Her lips pulled in and her gaze averted, he did feel a seedling of pity for the woman- but hope for himself. One man’s loss was another’s gain, wasn’t it? He would be able to actually pleasure her. He knew he could. He hadn’t failed yet, and there were genuine feelings there for her so… he had a lot of faith he’d be willing and able to please her. Half of the battle was just listening to her. Knowing what she wanted. “It’s okay, I can tell what your answer is. But m’sorry to hear that.” He frowned. “You deserved better than all of that. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, but you deserved a hell of a lot more for what he put you through.” Personally, Harry would never drop the ball like that. 

Realistically, Y/N was his dream woman and this was without knowing what she liked in bed. Everything about her was perfect to him, all except the pesky fact that she was the mother of one of his friends- but honestly? He was willing to risk it. She was worth that sort of risk. She had the demeanor, the charm, the intelligence, and so far, the sort of lifepath that aligned with him. He had to talk his way into it a little bit more than likely, but he was ready to try. 

“Thank you, Harry.” Y/N knew she probably looked a little flustered. She was. He was saying all the right things and she felt a weird level of comfort with him that she hadn’t experienced before. He was a man. Maybe he was younger than her, but he had a level head. He could cook. He worked multiple job, had ambitions, he knew what he wanted and he wanted to be a provider. Something that she found to be overwhelmingly sexy. She was noticing him in less than appropriate ways more and more. Like how cut his jaw was as he chewed his food, the scruff on his face, his strong, big hands. So fucking big, making the fork he held look small. His arms were built, flexing as he leaned against the countertop. The memory of his broad shoulders wasn’t too far from her brain either. “You’re… I haven’t spoken to a lot of people about that stuff. I don’t mean to take up too much of your time tonight, I know you must be tired after work but… I really appreciate you coming here, fixing my car, cooking. Talking to me. You’re great company.” 

“Like I said earlier, I like being around you.” It felt like he could see into her soul. Green peering inside of her, spreading her open. “If m’being honest, there aren’t many other places I’d rather be. M’happy to help you with whatever you need.” 

If Y/N was crazy, she’d think it was a double meaning. She’d overthink and imagine that he was implying something not so appropriate. Things that had her tummy flipping and cunt weeping. Pathetic, she knew that. Here she was, lusting after the younger man as he stared at her from across her kitchen. The sun had now set and the darkness was beginning to set in, and she wanted more than anything to take his hand and drag him upstairs to her bedroom but she had to clear her brain before she did something rash. “I enjoy spending time with you too.” Her smile was soft as she took her plate and brought it to the sink. “Just let me clean these dishes and then I’ll walk you to your car. You’ve been such a help tonight.” 

Y/N felt a little shaky as she turned the water on and let it run over the dirty pan and the other dishes she hadn’t quite gotten to. As much as washing dishes was something people usually hated, the girl found it a little therapeutic. She’d just gotten into it, relaxing just a bit when she felt a hand curl around her hip, a cleared plate set into the sink and the other hand shutting the water off on her. “What-”

“I think we’re dancing around it now, Sweetheart.” He said lowly, cuffing his other hand on her waist. Her body stilled as he pressed himself into her, his confidence high as he watched her shaky hand drop the sponge. “I think there’s something we both want and you don’t know how to ask for. And that’s okay.” His nose brushed the shell of her ear as she closed her eyes, swallowing thickly. “I know that you haven't been taken care of. I know you weren’t satisfied in the ways you deserved. I meant it when I said that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Y’know that, right?”

“Harry, what are you doing?” Her voice was breathy as she clenched her over the counter but making no move to leave his grip. 

“I’ve been after you for a while, Y/N. I think you pretend to not notice how I look at you. I think… you were a little jealous when you found out I took that mum from the swim group out and fucked her, because you wanted it to be you. But let me assure you… I wanted it to be you, too.” His heat spread along her back as his fingers moved to splay over her tummy, the same tummy that was a mess of butterflies just under his fingertips. 

“You did?” While she should have been shutting this down considering this man was friends with her daughter… she couldn’t. Not when he was making her feel more listened to, more desired, more aroused than she had been since… well, possibly her whole life. 

“Of course, love. To be honest, I was tryin’ to give you time to adjust. To be single, to find more of yourself. You’ve blossomed so much since I’ve known you. I knew you’d probably want t’reject me because of how you know me, but I just need a chance to prove to you that I can be what you need.” The chills on her skin were unavoidable as his lips smeared over her neck, groaning quietly as he inhaled. “You smell so fucking good, y’know that? Makes me crazy. No one else smells like you… I knew touching you would ruin me.” He pulled her further into him, laying the first kiss on the hinge of her jaw. “I’d be fucked. But I’ve been fucked for a while now. No distraction took away from the fact that any body under mine wasn’t you. Wasn’t the voice I wanted saying my name. I just want to show you that m’worth the risk.” 

The low baritone of his voice was making her want to whimper. Soft, hot lips pressed a trail of gentle kisses down her throat that got progressively more wet, making her cunt follow. Leaning back into him, it was hard to fight when her body felt like it needed him. His hand pressing on her stomach, pushing her all the way back until she felt him. Her gasp was wet, a chuckle vibrated against her throat as he ground himself against her ass.

“I’d fill you up. Make you feel it all the way in here.” The pressure on her stomach suddenly made a flash of heat boil in her belly, imagining it. Craving it. It always felt like something was missing during sex anyways. “I know you need it. You need someone to worship you, to make you understand just how irresistible you are. I’ve been dying to do that for you. Makes me so fucking angry t’know the people who’ve had you haven’t pleasured you, made you unsatisfied while I was dreaming about just a fucking lick of you. Just a squeeze.” Her hand fell on top of his own, breathing a bit more labored as the length of him against her ass taunted her further. 

“You were?” The woman knew she probably sounded a bit wrecked but she was. Harry was making her needy, desperation filling her chest in a way that almost overwhelmed her. She was hungry for more, more of his touch, his lips, his confessions. 

“Mhm. Had t’get my fill in those little touches you’d give me. Running you hand over my back, brushing past me in the kitchen, grabbing my hand. I’ve been wanting to hold you like this. Kiss you until you can't breathe. Make you cum on my fingers, my tongue, my cock, make you melt just for me. S’that something you’d want, baby?” His teeth grazed her jaw getting a little whimper from her throat. “Hm? I’d like some words from you. I don’t mind doin’ most of the talking, but don’t leave me hanging.” 

“I would- yeah. I would like that.” She was indeed panting. If she was a different woman she’d probably be ashamed over how much she was actually gagging for it, but there was something that made her truly believe that Harry could back up every single claim he said. “I haven’t been touched in so long but… you’ve made me feel so good already.” The admission made him smile against her skin, she could feel it. “Is this- do you just want sex?” 

“No.” Her neck felt cold as he pulled away, manhandling her a bit and making her enjoy it far too much as she was turned and reversed in position to be facing him now. Her chin was grabbed between his fingers and his now dark eyes pinned her own. “S’not just a fuck to me. I like you, Y/N. Know it’ll be a little complicated considering the situation but to put it bluntly, I don’t give a fuck.” There was no room left for doubt with his words. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for fucking years, and unless you don’t want me, there’s nothing and no one else that’s gonna keep me from getting what I want.” When she failed to reply, he coaxed it from her. “C’mon, baby. Words.” 

“I-I want that. I just didn’t know it was so serious for you.” She felt her cheeks flush at the intensity of it all. “It’s a good thing though… You’re making me a little dizzy.”

“Yeah?” He crooned. “A little dizzy? So fucking cute. I intend to do more than that, though.” Without another word, he took her mouth. Took it like he owned it, kissed her like it was already his. 

Y/N melted into it immediately. Fell into the kiss and clutched his shirt to pull him closer as he made her brain empty of any thoughts but ones pertaining to him. How big his hands were, how easily he moved her around, how soft his lips were, how he tasted, the slight smell of motor oil underlying the fresh, clean smell that followed him over here. It was pathetic, maybe, to completely resign herself, to hand herself over to the younger man but… could anyone blame her?

Yes, he was younger. But he kissed like he had been hand plucked to be attached to her lips. His tongue brushed into her mouth and she moaned out loud, allowing him to kiss her any way he wanted. Y/N was touch starved and she knew it, but there was something electric about the way he held her. The way he kissed like he was starving, like he couldn’t get enough of her. His hand slipped down her back and greedily palmed her ass, squeezing it tight enough to make her whimper. It had been so fucking long since someone touched her like they knew what they were doing, like they knew what to do to make her feel good. Harry acted like she belonged to him already, pulling her leg up over his waist as he pressed her into the counter. “Hop up.” he whispered against her lips, using his hands to cuff her waist and tug her right up on the countertop. 

Immediately her legs were spread and his body was between them. While he was somewhat lean, he was broad. His arms were big, his hands were too. She had to spread a bit and let her dress ride up as he manhandled her, yanking her back so she was right up against him. The sweetest whimper left her lips and translated to his, making him pull back to look down at her. Her smeared lip gloss and wide, glossy eyes looking up at him. Hair a little messy when it was usually styled, she looked… alive. The way he wanted her to feel with him. “M’gonna spread you open and get a taste, because I’ve been fucking dying for it for years.” He told her bluntly. “But just a taste. I’ll spend hours between these perfect damn thighs tonight… but I need to be inside of you.” He felt like he toed the line between unhinged and the most control he ever had. The man knew what he wanted, he told her what she was going to get, and yet he felt like he had never been more passionate about something in his life. Finally getting the chance to be with the woman he wanted was something that he had been counting down the days for. Nothing could stop him from doing this. 

“Yes, please. I want you… I want you to take over.” She swallowed. It wasn’t always this way. Sometimes Y/N enjoyed the idea of being on top, enjoyed teasing, enjoyed the thought of being in charge for a little bit- but never in her life had she wanted a man to just do whatever the fuck he wanted. It was because she knew he would know how to please her. 

That assumption wasn’t wrong. 

Seeing the man get on his knees in front of the counter, ordering her to take the dress off and toss it to the side to expose her plain cotton bra and underwear, maybe she should feel a little apprehensive- but the only thing she felt was needy. Desperate. Wanted. The look in his eye told her that he wanted her and he wanted her more desperately than she even knew. His lips kissed over her knees and upper thighs, obviously pacing himself as his fingers tugged the waistband of her panties and slowly peeled them off her body. 

Harry wished he spent a bit more time admiring her. He wished he had the self control at this point to not just pull her to the edge of the counter and take a thick lick over her glistening cunt and nuzzle his face into it regardless of the fact he was getting wet- but he didn’t. He pulled her up and onto his tongue, getting the delicious little gasp he had been dying to hear. Manicured nails gripped the countertop behind her and buried in his hair, wet gasps leaving her mouth. Garbles of his name and calling to god, but he was busy. Getting her flavor on every inch of his taste buds and committing it to memory, dipping his tongue into her entrance and lapping up to her clit where he sucked lightly, he was self serving. This was for him and she was reaping the benefits. 

“Oh my f-fucking god.” Y/N said in disbelief, watching green meet her eyes as his nose nudged her clit. “Oh, you’re so fucking good, Harry. Holy fuck.” It was hard to comprehend that this man was on his knees for her when just a few nights ago he had been helping her set out snacks for their friend group as they had a hang out at the pool. Seeing him as the man he was, she couldn’t believe she’d never seen him in this light- not seriously. He had completely blown her expectations out of the water as his tongue flicked over her entrance, pressing against it and making her curse repeatedly. 

The sound of a belt clanking on the floor was mostly ignored- but his fingers inside of her weren’t. In fact, she teared up slightly at the feeling. “Yes, fucking… finger me, feel me.” She growled, her thighs pressing him closer. He had no problems, humming against her as he played with her clit and opened her up with his fingers- surely for her benefit considering he had felt quite impressive against her ass. “Shit, I can’t believe this.” The laugh was quickly melded into a moan as he pulled her clit back into his mouth and added a second finger. 

Harry shook his head into her cunt. He felt her clench around his fingers and the sounds of pleasure above him, and he didn't want to stop but if he didn’t, he was positive he was going to blow his load all over the kitchen floor. There was no bothering to wipe his chin as he stood back up, gripping her face for another deep kiss. “M’obsessed. Tastes even better than I expected… You’re never going to get me away from it.” He wasn’t even joking. He would gladly call off his shift from the bar tomorrow if it meant getting to spend that time tasting her. “But I need to get inside of you. I need to make you cum around my cock.” He went to get his wallet from his pocket but was surprised when she stopped him. 

“I’m clean. I’ve- I’ve been tested and I’m on birth control-” Harr interrupted her with a loud groan, fisting his cock in his hand as his pants fell to his ankles. 

“Thank fuck.” He laughed. “This may be over quickly, but this isn’t the last time I’m in you. I want to make you cum over and fucking over- but I don’t want to waste my load on the floor when it’s better suited inside of you.” He watched her to answer, but he was pushing in before she got a word in. 

“Oh- shit.” Y/N clutched him, looking at him with wide eyes as he sunk into her. Mouth hanging open, she adjusted to the stretch as his head dropped against hers and he kept her eye contact as he sunk in inch by inch. Their breathing mingling as the feeling encompassed both of them. “Oh my god- you’re so fucking big.” Her voice was unfamiliar to herself, sulky and whiny with the pleasure she felt from being stretched. 

“I know, baby.” He grinned, holding on to the nape of her neck. “You’ll get used to it.” Without another word, he pulled out to thrust back in. The process was repeated as her hot, slippery cunt clenched around his cock and tried desperately not to give it up each and every time. 

It was, again, better than he imagined. Nothing could have prepared him for how good it would be to sink into the perfect hole, how she would grip him and suck in deeper. How she’d soak him and how her fingers would dig into his arm, how all he’d be able to see and smell and taste was her. It completely engulfed him and he had no urge to do anything but stay right here. “Okay?” He checked on her as he ground himself into her, her clit brushing over the hair right above his cock and getting it wet. 

“I’m so good.” She slurred, lost in how good it felt to have him inside of her. “I’m so full.” It was insane to her, knowing how she had been treated last time. Even with his direct approach, she’d never felt more cared for, more appreciated. He was working with her, checking in, all while making the first moves that made her feel like he had been hand made for her. “Go harder. I can take it.” 

Y/N had never been fucked the way she wanted and that had been apparent to Harry. He just had a feeling and he knew that she was going to need him in ways she hadn’t experienced. Ways he was more than happy to deliver. “I’ll give you anything you want, Baby.” His nose brushed against hers. “Just make sure to scream my name nice n’loud when you cum for me.” 

It was unlike sex that she thought was real. Y/N held on to Harry as he plowed into her, his grip on her tight as his eyes looked down at where they were connected. It was wet, so fucking wet and creamy all over the base of his cock that she hadn’t known she could do. Her thighs were spread out and over his forearms as he fucked into her like it was his one and only job, whimpering out his name as he gave it to her the way she’d needed. “I knew you’d b-be able to give me what I wanted.” Her words were jostled as her body was, but he replied with another hot kiss. 

Messy, full of tongue and wet, she relished in his desperate need to taste her again. It didn’t matter that her chin was wet or she was getting bruised on her hips, she’d finally felt fulfilled in sex. “Yeah? Y’knew I’d be able to give it to you?” He crooned. “M’glad you knew, because I plan on being the only one doing it.” The words were completely serious and possessive and Y/N loved it. Feeling this level of desire was brand new to her and she didn’t want to give it up. 

“Uh-huh, I- I want you to be the one to give it to me.” As wrong as some people may see it, this was the epitome of a man. Even if he was younger- he had a plan, he had two jobs he’d held for years, a place of his own… He had more than some people her own age. Dedication and loyalty like his were irreplaceable. Maybe she was crazy in indulging in this, in allowing him to have her, but after wasting years with a man who didn’t want her- she wasn’t going to turn away someone who obviously desired her, wanted to worship her- and made her feel like she wanted to do the same back. 

“Good. I wasn’t planning on letting anyone else get a taste. You’re going to be my woman, this is going to be my pussy, M’gonna keep making you feel good. I don’t care who has shit to say about it.” He grunted, pressing theirs mouths together again as he felt her get close. The rippling around his cock and her soft whimpers against his mouth, her hand gripping him hard, he was close to finally fulfilling his fantasy. His dream girl letting go around him and making a mess. “I can feel it, y’know. Feel how you’re gonna cum for me.” He panted against her mouth. 

Y/N felt lightheaded in the best way, her body tingling and the pressure in her stomach building with each scrape of his tip against the spot no one else had reached- or even bothered to look for. Harry was perceptive and keen on her, about to make her orgasm from penetration for the very first time. In all her years she had thought something was wrong, but it turned out that she’d just been with shit people. Her ex husband, the attempts at hook ups, they had no idea how to work her body… But Harry? It seemed like he’d written the manual from the first time he touched her. The only thing she could think about was the pleasure and how good he looked giving it to her. 

Lips swollen and teeth grit, vein on his neck visible, his arms flexed as he railed her. It was like fucking her was his purpose, and fuck- he was fulfilling it. “I am.” She breathed, the tension getting tighter in her stomach. Again, those tears rose in her eyes as each thrust jolted the pleasure inside of her. “I am, I’m gonna cum for you Harry.” Remembering at the last minute that he wanted her to say his name, she sure as hell gave it to him.  “Please, Harry…. Just keep fucking me, give it to me, you’re right where I n-need.” It was right there, she could fucking taste it. “Harry, Harry-”

“Cum for me.” He coaxed. “C’mon, baby. First of many, show me how you cum on my cock. Get me nice and wet- fuck, you’re gorgeous.” The man was in awe of how beautiful she was, but even more about how good it felt as she began to finish on his prick. Her mouth dropping and her eyes watering as she let out a slew of cusses, the quivering of her cunt making it hard to hold on. “Fucking beautiful, that’s my girl. F-Fuck.” 

Y/N felt like she was floating. Pleasure hit every nerve, white hot and tingling. She had no idea what was coming out of her mouth but she felt the burn in her eyes as a tear fell down her cheek, clinging to him as each thrust got that sweet spot and made her tremble in his arms. He didn’t stop, the dark noises he made only spurring her on further. She was wet and she knew she must have completely soaked him. The wet sounds had gotten louder and the way he had groaned let her know she had to have gushed around his cock. “Harry, Harry- H, oh my god.” She bleated, nails digging into his arm. The constant stimulation was only making her more wet and he seemed to be loving it. 

Harry was drunk on the feeling, his own orgasm trailing right behind hers as he worked her through it. She’d made a mess, one he was happy to have all over his skin. The scent of her on him would be his reward, her marks even more so. “M’gonna cum.” He growled. “Where? Where do y’want my cum, baby? Tell me where you want it.” 

“Inside. Inside me, please, give it to me there.” Her legs wrapped around him tighter, making it nearly impossible for him to pull out- like he’d ever want to. His balls tightened at the words, eyes blazing as he looked down at her face. She seemed just as far gone as him, the suction of her soaked channel making him feel borderline insane.

“You- Fuck, Yeah? You want me to give you my load in that perfect cunt?” His grip on her tightened, sure to leave bruises but that was a problem for a later time. It had been a fantasy of his forever, his spunk dripping from her swollen pussy and now she wanted it- was begging for it. There was no mistaking her rapid nod, head tipped up at him as she whispered ‘please, please, please, give it to me’ and fuck, Harry was only so strong. 

He did exactly as asked, his sloppy thrusts hard as he grunted while coming to his end. It flashed over his vision as the loudest groan left his swollen lips, hips stuttering as he buried deep and let loose. Spurts of cum leaving his tip as he unloaded inside of her, the pulsing of his prick felt by both of them as he emptied his balls of every drop of cum. Claiming her, marking her in a symbolic way and the way he’d always been desperate to do. 

There was little hesitation as he took her mouth again, giving her a deep kiss. Tongue running over the roof of her mouth before sucking on her tongue, the most unhinged kiss he’d felt in his life as she clung to him and her cunt continued to milk him of every little bit. “Fuck.” He laughed in disbelief against her mouth. He was coated in a light sheen of sweat, Y/N’s hair was a mess and he was still snugly wrapped up in her as he gently moved her back so she was more comfortable on the counter. His hand came up to stroke her cheek, watching her hazy eyes look back into his own. This was his wet dream come true, but Y/N had no idea the man she had just unleashed. He was just… happy. Satisfied, motivated and fucking happy.  This wasn’t just a fuck for him. “Meant what I said.” His voice was hoarse as he fawned over her, adjusting her hair so it didn’t stick to her forehead. “M’gonna keep you. This isn’t a one and done and I plan on treating you the way you’ve always fuckin’ deserved.” His lips sampled hers again, feeling her arms come up over his shoulders as she reciprocated. “You’re my dream woman, Y/N. M’gonna make sure m’your dream man.”

[antidesire]

12:59 antidesire

not another vendetta/id!leon post.. wuh oh. thank you for 500 followers ♡

f!reader x dbf!leon, 18+ only. reader wears a bikini, a skirt and some makeup, alcohol consumption, reader is 21+, leon is pushing 40. size kink!!, praise, leon calls reader good girl, baby girl, little one, small, reader calls leon daddy like a couple times, reader is very eager to please, a lot of dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v, creampie. this is purely fictional always use protection and practice safe sex. 4.5k+ of filfth, probably more rushed and messy than it should be not sure how i feel about it, i apologise.

leon s. kennedy,

you only knew of the older man from your father, the two had met during a pub crawl one night, and your father was quite the talker, giving him the rundown on all the best liquors, telling him all kinds of crazy stories about his life (nothing compared to mr. kennedy) and all the trouble he got in to in his younger days, so the two hit it off like a house on fire and suddenly leon kennedy was a part of your father's friend group despite being younger compared to your father, he seemed to relate a lot to him (his entire tab being paid for by his new friend probably helped too).

you were used to it, how sociable your father was, he always made time to enjoy his weekends, whether it be out on the town or inside, and that day was scorching hot so he had decided a garden party was the only option, it seemed silly not to what with the pool in the back yard and a barbeque grill.

with a group message to all his and your mother's friends, the plans were set.

you wouldn't say you were being promiscuous or inappropriate- not on purpose, surely never. it just so happened that your favourite bikini was on the skimpier side, a little triangular bra and thong, and in a colour that complimented your skin strikingly well, some heart sunglasses for some contrast, cute- that's what you'd call it, cute.

did your mom's friends approve? absolutely not, whispering their outrage and shock under their breaths, sending glares over to their husbands, it did make you laugh.

your mom might've cared, and your dad as well- too bad they were already more than tipsy by the time their guests arrived.

the water felt so warm thanks to the sun beaming down on the garden, with your butt perched on the edge of the pool you dangled your legs inside the cool water as you leaned back on your palms, basking in the rays.

"leon!" you heard your father call out in excitement and your head whipped around, you'd never heard of a leon before. "it's so good to see you man, how have you been?"

leon was gorgeous, and that was to put things modestly. he didn't look as old as your other father's friends and good lord he was a hundred times sexier than any of them.

his hair was dark, not too long, but you noticed one side swept over his eye. he had partial stubble along his chin and upper lip, and his dark locks contrasted with his icy blue eyes.

suddenly you were the one ogling, sunglasses tipped down the length of your nose, determined to know more about this leon.

sloshing of the water turned your dad’s attention back to you, encouraging you over to meet his friend, “this is my daughter,” your dad told leon your name before introducing him to you.

“it’s nice to meet you leon.” you smiled, holding out your hand politely to which he shook and you could’ve sworn you saw a smile tugging at his lips.

“it’s nice to meet you too.” he nodded, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes swiftly grazed over your body before distracting himself with the bottle in his hands, “i come bearing gifts.”

you watched from afar when your mother called you into the kitchen to aid her in preparing some food that couldn’t be handled on the grill your father was cooking in, “mama, does leon have a wife?” you blurted out the question before you could even swish it around in your head a little longer.

“hmm, I don’t think so, why’s that?” she laughed, tossing some salad and dressing in a bowl.

“m’ just wondering, dad’s other friends all do.” you hummed, shrugging to make it seem less suspicious.

the food went down well, even better with the delicious cocktails you and your mom whipped together earlier, a delicious buzz whirling throughout your body that had you up and moving towards the kitchen to grab another one.

“you got a spare glass? smashed mine.” you heard a voice call out, jolting in surprise, head bumping the cabinet above you,

“shit.” you cursed under your breath, hand flying up to rub the top of your head, glancing back to see it was the older man you had your eyes on earlier.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” he laughed, footsteps coming closer, “you alright?” a cold but firm grasp was suddenly at your waist, an excuse to lean in and observe the ‘damage’.

oh god, you could smell his cologne, musky and expensive, “i’m good, you didn’t scare me- well, you did a little, but it’s fine.” wow, real smooth.

you could almost feel the vibrations in his chest when he chuckled, you had to lean back against the counter to distance the two of you, your face furrowing in confusion when he only got closer, hand reaching up above your head, “they up here?” he gestured towards the cabinet above your head.

was he toying with you right now?

“t-they’re all the way at the back, we used most of em’ already.” you mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear, “let me check.” you spoke up before twirling yourself around, your hands pushing yourself upwards to go on your tippy toes so you could reach the glass at the back.

you purposefully shoved your ass back against him, back arched to give him a nice view of the expanse of your bare back, small strings of your bikini high on your hips, you were just generous like that. you feigned innocence as you felt around for a few more seconds, “ah-ha!” you cooed, plucking the glass down and turning yourself back to face him, “here you are.” you smiled, tapping the rim of the glass against his chest as his eyes hung a little lower on your body.

“thank you, sweetheart.” his fingertips grazed yours before taking the glass from you, your eyes dashing down to his hand, noticing blood.

“you cut yourself.” you jut your bottom lip out into a pout, extending your arm to grab his wrist and pull him over to the bathroom, glass in his hand long forgotten about.

"it's just from where the glass smashed, it's not a big deal." he was trying to brush it off but you were already grabbing the first aid kit before he could finish his sentence.

"let me look at it under the light." you encouraged him closer as you put yourself up until you were sat on the sink, first aid kit on your lap.

the light from the cabinet above the sink did make it easier to see the cut, it also made it easier to notice how slender his fingers were, veins running all the way up his bulky arms, disappearing under his black compression shirt he wore, "you're not warm like that by the way?" you glanced up from his hand, referring to his shirt, "you can join me in the pool after." you cooed, voice overly sweet as you dabbed some disinfectant on his cut, grabbing a bandaid next.

leon shook his head, a small chuckle leaving his lips, "i'm not sure your parents would appreciate that." oh, were you too obvious? oops.

your eyes rolled at that, legs swaying in the air back and forth as the rip of the paper from the bandaid could be heard in the silence, your nimble fingers pushing the dressing around the cut securely before giving his hand a squeeze to gesture that you were done.

a small sigh escaped your lips as your head leaned back against the cabinet, still perched pretty on top of the sink, your thighs looked plush and soft like this and the way the glitter from your lipgloss sparkled under the light was like its own little spell, a cautious one.

but you, you threw all caution to the wind now he voiced acknowledgment about your little games, your eyes dragged shamelessly over him, twiddling the string of your bikini panties between your fingers, "d'you not wanna touch me?" you spoke quietly.

you heard leon exhale before you felt his fingertips at your lower thighs, pushing them open so he could step closer, “you’re not playing fair.” his head tilted, fingers pinching at the soft flesh of your thighs, “you do this with all your dad’s friends, huh?”

you hummed out, your hand placing on top of his and pushing it even higher up your thigh, “i’m not normally like this, you’re special.” you cooed out, leaning in towards his ears, “i pinky promise.”

you yelped when his fingers pulled the elastic of your panties back until it snapped back against your skin, “aah.” you shivered, legs raising to clench either side of his hips.

"i won't tell anyone." you whined, rubbing your thighs against him to distract the lingering stinging sensation.

the way you sweetened your voice and fluttered your eyelashes had him reeling closer, so close you could feel his hot breath at your neck, smell the scent of sweat on him from the hot scorching day.

your fingers trailed upwards, pushing at his shirt until he grasped firmly at your wrists, shoving them out of the way, “if i got you here, i wanna do things my way.” he spoke directly, eyebrow raised as he looked for what seemed like your confirmation, to which you gave him a prompt nod, perhaps a little eagerly.

“good girl.” two simple words and your stomach was doing somersaults, all the blood rushing straight to your cheeks. it sounded like pure honey falling from his lips, sweeter than the cocktails you had previously enjoyed.

leon didn’t miss the way the little pet name clearly had you dazed either, he was quite attentive, fingers grazing back and forth over the goosebumps on your thigh whilst the other was placed at your chin, thumb rubbing along your jaw, "you're such a pretty little thing, your old man told me he had a beautiful, smart daughter at home.. i should've believed him more, i shouldn't have come." he snickered, shaking his head.

"it's too late for that now." you huffed, knocking your head to his and catching his lips until they meshed with yours, feeling his stubble graze your skin, igniting pulses of desire straight between your legs.

he didn't bite, you only felt him relax a little into the kiss before pushing himself away with an expression you couldn't read on his face, "you're making it hard to think straight."

you laughed at that, "don't think at all, that's what i like to do." you winked, "just do what feels good." you giggled and leon could feel his heart skip a beat, you were so damn cute.

"fuck.." he threw his head back, chuckling at the situation he found himself in. when his attention was back on you he noticed your fingers between your legs, rubbing your fingers against your clothed pussy.

"mh-mh," he shook his head, swatting away your hand, "let me take care of you, sweetheart." he breathed out, fingers tucking under your panties, dragging them all the way down before flinging them somewhere on the floor, long forgotten about along with his sense of morals.

you whimpered at the feeling of cold porcelain on your bare skin, feeling your pussy brush against it when he pushed your thighs open, "s-shit.." you whimpered.

you almost forgot to keep breathing when you watched him kneel down, taking a position in between your legs, perching them both over his shoulders, fingertips squeezing and rubbing the outside of your thighs, "you don't mind if i'm a little selfish and have a taste first, yeah baby?" he blinked up at you and if the feeling of your thighs already squeezing around his head wasn't enough, maybe the audible moan followed up by a mantra of "yes, yes, yes" was enough.

"you're so cute, you get excited about the littlest things." he observed, leaning in to press wet, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, stubble scraping along your skin.

"n-no i don't." you tried to deny out of embarrassment, only getting a chuckle of disbelief in response, knowing your body's reactions spoke for itself.

he breathed you in, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue dashed out to lick upwards to your clit, the tip of his tongue circling over the sensitive little nub which had your finger flying in his hair, "ohh, my god.." you mewled, hips already pushing up towards his face for more which he was happy to oblige.

flattening his tongue allowed you to feel him everywhere, every little inch of your cunt being showered with attention, your legs kicking against his upper back until he pulled back, allowing you a second to breathe though he didn't waste it, spitting on your clit and letting the saliva run down your pussy just so he could tongue fuck it inside you.

he had a firm grasp on your thighs now, tongue pressing past your puffy lips and inside you, pushing his tongue further and further, breathing you in until the tip of his nose pushed deliciously against your clit, grinding against it for further friction, "pleasuhh-nghnn," you brokenly moaned, legs trembling either side of him, but he kept going and it was almost embarrassing how sloppy he sounded, eating you out like he was starved, only pulling back when he wanted to pay attention to your poor puffy clit, tongue flicking and prodding before his lips sealed around it, sucking the sensitive little nub into his mouth and groaning which added a mouth-watering vibration, "daddy, please." you gasped out.

you clearly spoke too soon when a sudden knock of someone's fist against the wooden door pulled you out of your bliss.

you could've cried when he pulled away to stand up, pleasure fizzling out into nothing, legs squeezing together to maintain the warmth of where he had been perched, "don't.." you pleaded, grabbing a hold of his arms and pushing him towards you, bare soaked pussy grinding against the belt he had on around his waist.

"leon, you in here?" your father's voice spoke up again, the door handle rattling, leon gave your arm a reassuring squeeze before he plucked your bikini panties off the ground, stuffing them in his pocket and opening the door just wide enough to slip out.

being the gentleman he is, he wiped the residue of glistening saliva and cum from his mouth and chin with the back of his hand before speaking up with an excuse, "sorry, was just cooling down."

you heard your father announce needing help with something that happened in the front yard.

both their footsteps wandered away and you cursed aloud, jumping off the sink and stomping your feet on the floor, why now?!

your head peaked out of the bathroom ever so slightly until you knew the coast was clear, scurrying to your bedroom to pick up your skirt, tugging it up until you were decent enough.

with quick steps you rushed down the stairs only to see everyone in the front yard, “what happened?” you asked your mom.

“steve got a little too drunk and saw the keys still in leon’s bike.. he crashed it into the bush.” she pointed to the damage and your eyes widened, it wasn’t like it was irreversible damage but by the way leon was tugging it out of the branches and accessing things, it didn’t look good either.

“oops..” you whispered under your breath, noticing the panicked man profusely apologising and promising to pay for any damages.

leon didn’t look too concerned though- with all things considered, only brushing the man off and mumbling about how he’ll fix it himself, that no one else should be touching it anymore, as he perches it up, stuffing the keys in his back pocket- alongside your panties.

“i’m sorry man, you always have a place to crash here or we can get you a cab back home, come back for it when you can, don’t stress yourself any further.” your dad tried to fix the situation, patting leon on the back as his other friend looked like a kicked dog, wife in his ear scolding him.

“think i’ll have to crash here, i’ll bring a friend over to help me take it back tomorrow, would rather not let her outta my sight anymore.” he forced out a chuckle.

the night drew in much quicker what with your father’s friends' antics, despite leon trying to play it cool and telling them it was no big deal, clearly, there was some tension which had everyone saying their goodbyes as the sun set and the night grew on.

“darling, can you go grab leon some fresh sheets and pillows for the night?” you heard your dad call out, turning on your feet before leon could even protest.

you hopped up the stairs and towards your room, plucking out your clean strawberry sheets with a matching plush pillow for the older man, happily bringing it down and presenting them to him, “sorry if they’re not your style.” you cooed, eyelashes fluttering at him once again.

“they’re just what i like, don’t worry.” he played along before, two-finger saluting both of your parents goodnight with a thank you as they declared they were going to bed, clearly the alcohol and mood change helping their swift decision to head to bed

“is everything okay?” you followed closely behind him like a puppy dog, bumping into his back when he halted his steps as he reached the living room, throwing the bed sheets on the couch.

“it happened, no point still being angry about it, i can fix it anyway.” he told you, glancing behind his shoulder before turning to face you, arms crossing over his chest as though he was expecting something from you.

“what?” you pouted, looking up at him, doe eyes and puffed out cheeks.

“you can’t leave me alone even after almost getting caught?” his head tilted and suddenly you felt a lot smaller underneath him.

you didn’t know how to respond, part of you was humiliated, the other wanting to bite back, “i was worried!” you whined, fist coming up to hit his chest.

leon laughed, pushing his hair out of his face and walking into you until your knees buckled and you fell back against the couch, “you’re so cute.” you didn’t have time to think, already feeling his thumb push past your lips and settle on your tongue.

“such a pretty little thing.” he sighed out, eyebrows furrowed as he admired every little detail on your face, eyes grazing over your features.

“you want me so bad don’t you sweetheart?” his voice hummed out sweetly, forcing you to nod your head, though you didn’t need to be, willing to do anything he asked of you, waiting at his beckon and call.

“sweet thing.” leon pulled his hand away, grasping the end of his shirt and pulling it over his head, your eyes wasting no time taking in everything you could, the way his muscles were defined, how a light sheen of sweat was sticky on top of his skin and how the trail of dark curly hair lead from his bellybutton down into the waistband of his boxers.

“please..” you whined out, hand going up to squeeze his arm, pulling it until he was touching your neck, dragging it towards your chest.

his eyes lazily followed your movements, fingers tugging under the straps of your bikini bra until the skimpy fabric fell into your lap, “want my skirt off next daddy?” you asked him, head tilted up as your fingers already went towards the zip.

he shook his head, tongue darting out to lick over his bottom lip, admiring your pretty tits and the peek of your thighs under your skirt puddling over your lap, “no no, keep it on, it’s cute.”

his pants came off next, your eyes watching him cup his erection through his boxers, stroking himself on top of the fabric, "lemme help." you shifted closer, tongue licking the outline of him, the texture of the cotton fabric grazing against your tastebuds, licking a trail upwards to the tip of his dick pushing against the fabric.

you let leon push down his boxers, his hard cock slapping back against his chest, standing tall with the tip the prettiest red you had ever seen, glistening with a bead of his pearly precum.

you giggled, leaning in to lick from his balls, upwards his length, tongue feeling the veins running up the underside of him before the muscle reached his tip, kitten licking up the sticky cum whilst his hand rested at the back of your head. pushing you further against him, his other hand gripped at the base of his cock, slapping the tip of himself on your tongue and watching you go cross-eyed.

you let him guide you until the tip of him was pushed past your swollen lips, "mmh, that's it sexy." he groaned out, "you're so sweet, baby, i'd love to have you choking on this cock one day." he chuckled out, feeling you push yourself further down, as though you were proving yourself, hearing your pathetic little sputtering and gagging already.

"be careful little one, s'okay." he stroked the top of your head and you let your throat relax, drool pushing past the corner of your lips and tears stinging at your eyes, "you don't have to take it all, you're only a small thing."

his words were making your fingers curl into his hips, nails dragging down his skin hard enough to decorate him with red marks, you so badly wanted to keep going but you were far too excited, you had lost yourself already trying to impress him, failing but he found it cute, he found everything about you so fucking cute.

"shh, shh.." he hushed you when you pulled your mouth away to speak, thumb flicking away some stray tears that landed on your cheeks, "don't worry about it sweetheart, you make me feel good just sitting there looking so pretty."

you could feel your heart flutter out of your chest, swallowing down any humiliation and need to apologise for the sad attempt of pleasing him with your mouth, you couldn't help it, your head was a little foggy as soon as he started speaking.

you watched as he next lifted his hand up, finger twirling in the air, indicating that he wanted you to turn around, "all fours for me." he helped you maneuver into a comfortable position on the couch, your back arched, head stuffed into the strawberry printed cotton sheets and your legs spread to accommodate leon behind you.

"you have the prettiest little pussy i've ever seen, y'know that?" he uttered behind you, hand squeezing your ass, spreading you open as he pushed himself flush against you, feeling the way your pussy pulse around nothing whilst he teasingly dragged himself back and forth your slippery folds.

"n-need it, need it so bad.." you mewled out, wiggling your ass a little to try and find some friction, your skirt shifting up higher on your waist. you lurched forward suddenly when he pushed his cock inside you without warning, your squeal muffled by the sheets.

"oh.. shit, fuckkkk.." he dragged out his words as he felt your pussy pulsate and contract around him, "holy fuck, you're so- mhfm," he had to cut himself off to take a second, "so fucking tight." he exhaled, hand placing at your lower back where your skirt was, grabbing a fistful of the fabric to help you push back and forth on his cock.

"you gotta be quiet yeah? don't wanna wake your parents up.." he chuckled, hips reeling back before pushing into you again, "imagine the look on your old man's face, finding his sweet daughter fucked stupid by the man he invited into his home." he grunted, pulling you flush against him with the help of his grasp on your skirt.

"poor thing, you can't help it can you baby? you wanted this dick so bad, i don't blame you sweetheart, i really don't." he cooed mockingly as his pace became more consistently deeper and more violent.

drool was pooling on your freshly washed sheets, countless sobs of pleasure and chants of leon's name deafened thanks to your head being stuffed into the couch. you couldn't care about anything he was insinuating, if this was bad then why did it feel sooo good.

you felt a stretch in your shoulder when he grabbed your arm behind your back, pulling it towards him, "that's it, pussy feels so damn good." he groaned much louder than he should've considering what he scolded you before just moments before.

"feels s'good!" you sobbed out. you could feel his hips slapping against your thighs and your ass, you could hear it every time he drilled his fat cock into you, incoherent babbling against the sheets and fat tears rolling down your cheeks, growing closer and closer each time he shoved himself down your dripping cunt.

"right there? yeah, i know you like that dick, can feel you fucking squeezing me back in every time i'm not deep in your guts." he laughed out euphorically, feeling as though you were driving him crazy, he'd never been this dumbfounded over pussy before.

"in—" you squealed out, legs trembling, "inside! o-oh my fughnnn, cum inside!" you blubbered out desperately, fingers clawing at the sheets underneath you, no regard for your volume, far too gone.

your breath was heaving and you couldn't stop the constant squeals of joy and tears flowing as your body shivered with pure bliss, leon noticed this and didn't let up on his pace, hips jackhammering into you erratically and if he didn't have a grip on your skirt and your arm you would've been flung to the other side of the couch, "that's it baby girl, cum on my cock, you're doing so well, m'so proud." he praised.

your stomach clenched and spasmed as your release washed over your entire body, muscles trembling and jolting, voice breathless and hoarse whilst leon fucked your sticky release back into you, desperate to chase his own high, holding you steady so you wouldn't fall limply against the couch.

"ah!" leon grunted, soppy wet sounds of your pussy bouncing off of the walls as he continuously pounded into your abused pussy, "i'm cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck!" he gritted his teeth, pushing his hips flush against you as he whispered out breathlessly, "take it, take it baby." warm hot ropes of his cum spurting out and filling up your pussy.

you were completely spent but something about the sensation had you feeling so warm, so full it made your toes curl and you regained enough energy to push back against him, not wanting to lose even a drop of it.

you both spent more than a few minutes like this, basking in each other's warmth and closeness until you were collapsing from exhaustion, whimpering at the empty, sticky feeling between your legs.

leon leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your back and shoulders, rubbing and squeezing your waist to relieve any tension, "let me clean you up." was the last thing you heard him say, your eyes growing heavier and heavier.

leon didn't mind, he cleaned you up well, lifted you up, and quietly headed to your bedroom, tucking you into bed after ridding you of your skirt which he ripped, so you could enjoy your peaceful slumber for the night as he slipped away back downstairs to remove any evidence of what happened before the sun would come up and he would have to face your father once again.

[sim0nril3y]

Hi Grace! Really love your Ghost × Civilian, it's a real masterpiece!! Have already read several times)) your version of Simon is truly amazing!

We've seen jealous Simon, but what about his girl? Like they're out in a pub or something and there's someone trying to hit on him? Really interested in your vision on this one)

Have a nice day!!

Note: ahhhhhh, you're so cuuuuuuute, tytyty, I'm so glad that you are enjoying series, ily and I loooooove your request, I hope it is everything you were hoping it would be. Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, drinking, jealousy, canon-typical swearing.

It was a Friday night. It was supposed to be like every other Friday night. The two of you tucked into a cosy corner of your local pub, few drinks, conversation about any plans for the weekend. However, this Friday was different and rudely interrupted by a rowdy group of women.

It was a group of 10 of them, each time the door opened another seemed to join the flock. They were crowding the bar, happily chirping about pre-drinks before they were going to head out onto a pub crawl or maybe even to a couple clubs. Each of them were dressed up in killer heels and contorted into tight outfits, proudly wearing sashes to announce that they were part of a bridal party and the bride-to-be was wearing a plastic tiara on her updo.

With a wince Simon leaned towards you and asked. “What was that, babe?” In front of the fireplace was usually quiet, but now with the cackles that were coming from the group it was almost impossible to hear you. “I said…” You raised your voice a little, moving on the sofa to be a little closer to him. “I said, I’m going to pop to the loo quick. Will you get me another drink?”

With a hum Simon finished the dregs of his beer and nodded. “Same again?” He quizzed, standing along with you. As you headed across the room you gifted him a head nod, then blew him a kiss. Simon approached the bar, placing down the empty glasses and waiting for the bartender to get around to him. It seemed like the poor lad was being pushed to his limit with all the demands from the bridal party, they were giggling, swaying to music, excitedly talking about the wild night that they were about to have.

As he leaned there Simon couldn’t help but feel eyes watching him, sensing that he was being observed he turned his head to the side and saw a small portion of the women looking at him, then giggling, turning back to each other. “Bloody hell-” The bartender approached him then, looking flushed and flustered before asking. “Same again, Simon?” He simply nodded, tapping his fingers against the bar and saying. “Make it quick. Yeah?”

“Go. Go.” A sweet voice urged and a second later one of the women sidled up to him, standing there twirling some hair around her finger. “Hi there…” She began, gifting him a bright and slightly tipsy smile. “I, uh… I don’t come in here often, but… but if you come here then I might start having to…” Simon rolled his eyes and kept his eyes firmly plastered on the bartender who was finishing pouring your drink into a glass and then bringing it to place in front of him.

“Thanks.” Simon paid him quickly, but the woman placed a hand on his wrist. “That drink for me?” She purred in a breathy voice and before Simon could set her straight you stepped forward, breaking the strangers contact from his arm and gifting her a tight smile. “Actually, it’s mine.” He could tell that you were claiming more than just the drink in his hand. Your eyes casually dragged up and down her form with disdain and then you gave her a tight smile as you muttered. “Maybe one day you’ll have your own drink…” Then adding in a false happy tone. “Have fun~”

A moment later you were dragging Simon back across the room to the original sofa in front of the roaring fireplace. It was peaceful. It was easy to let the rowdy room around you melt away. Leaning back Simon was surprised at the feel of your mouth pressed to a moment later. It was a passionate and searing kiss with underlining possession and just a touch of jealousy. It was a kiss to claim him. It was on that made a statement.

“Babe…” Simon tugged away and looked around with his cheeks pink, public affection wasn't something he was overly fond of, but seeing you so possessive was certainly ticking a box for him. “What?” You smirked, tilting your head as if oblivious. “You know what…” He muttered. “What’s your plan next? Gonna ride me in front of the whole pub and show everyone who I belong to?” Quirking a brow, he watched your smirk burst into a bright smile. “No. That is not an option.” He stated sternly.

“Spoilsport.” You giggled and leaned into his side, your eyes flittering over to the group of women, looking for a moment longer before they all seemed to turn away and return to their conversations. “I don’t think that will be needed; I think they got the message.” Simon smirked and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple before muttering. "Brat." Then wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Wait until I get you home, the whole bloody country is going to know who you belong to..."

Masterlist | Ask | 07-12-2023

[cheriladycl01]

Why are you an Uber Driver? - Liam Lawson x Teammate! Reader

Plot: Liam Lawson finally gets a seat in F1 signing with Audi Formula Racing in 2026 along with you the fiery new rookie, when you get a sponsor with Uber and have to shoot promos what happens?

A/N: I have taken some of these moments from Darren Levy, some of them are just random crap i've thought off! This is supposed to be short and silly and feel like your almost watching the video or like watching a tiktok compellation!

Credit to umflowers for the GIF

In a YouTube Video:

"Hey guys so today Liam and I are here with Audi and we are happy to announce one of our new sponsors is Uber!" you say looking at the camera a massive smile on your face.

"Today we are partnered with Uber to get you guys to your destinations" Liam adds swinging an arm around your shoulder.

"We've kindly been gifted an Audi RS E-tron GT to use as our Uber car. Its one of the fastest models in Audi and all electric its a beauty" you explain as you walk over to the car with Liam following behind you.

"Black car" Liam says pointing to the car jokingly after your detailed explanation.

"Whose driving first! Me or you?" you ask turning to him.

"Mmmm definitely you" he says before running round to the passenger side of the car and hopping in.

"Okay, so Audi have been very kind an set up a profile for us called Li/N (Liam and your name mixed) and used this awesome picture of Y/N and I" he says showing off the Uber profile that was on the phone.

"Okay, lets pick up our first person" you smile working out how to accept a ride.

"Bobby Knight, we are coming from you!" Y/N giggles excitedly pulling out the large overhead carpark they were in. She had one hand on the wheel and one hand on the gear stick. She follows the directions and eventually pulls into a quiet side street.

"Hello, for Bobby?" the man asks getting into the car flinging his briefcase the the other seat of the car.

"Oh i thought the guy was the driver. I guess you do it together ... cute" he says briefly looking up from his work phone. You took it a little slower just testing the waters, making sure before you pulled out that you knew where the destination was.

"Look, I'm going to a business meeting. Can you just make this a quick job" he sighs looking over at you. Before he can blink, your driving the car how it was built for, obviously safely and within the speed limits but still driving quicker than most Uber's would.

"Jheezus, you can drive" he says laughing a little making a chuckle come from Liam beside you.

"I mean, its my career. You'd expect me to be" she says smugly knowing that if he wasn't a fan he wouldn't actually know what she was going on about.

"Here you go sir" you say pulling up outside the building you requested and he thanked you before hopping out quickly.

"Okay lets switch" you say before it cuts to you and Liam in the opposite places in the car.

"Okay next ride we are picking up Abbey" Liam says having accepted another ride. He quickly drives there while you mess about with the radio finally connecting your phone to the Car Play. Ladbroke Grove by AJ Tracey started playing and you and Liam both started rapping and you drove through the busy streets with the window rolled down.

"Hey babes, got some mates with me yeah? Going to the Xidao Bar?" she says as she comes up to the window the was rolled down. Her and the two mates clamber into the back all squishing in.

"I love you dress, looking like fire girl" you say swinging round looking over the brunette in the middle. She blushed lightly, thanking you before both her friends start to tease her in the back.

"So you girls got a good night ahead?" you ask looking at them in the rear view mirror.

"Yeah, going pub crawling!" the blonde exclaims before whipping out a mirror and lipstick.

"Oh my gosh" the brunette in the middle exclaims her head shooting up.

"You guys are F1 drivers right?" she says looking at the both of them.

"You drive for Audi"

"Yeah!" you laugh. She asks for a picture and you offer her one once you pull up to the club, she gives you a hug and leaves with her equally confused friends.

"Switch"

"Oh my lord and jheez is that two people shaking up in that car? In the middle of the day?" Liam exclaims looking out the drivers side window, past your concentrated head. You look onwards to see what he is exactly looking at.

"Holy shit my eyes!" you cry looking at the intrusion.

"Damn that wild, he is going at it" Liam observes making you slap your hand over his eyes.

"Don't look Liam!"

"It's the middle of the god damn day Y/N its hard to miss"

"No awareness of their surroundings at all" you complain laughing along with Liam.

You reverse out the space, putting your arm round the back of Liam's seat turning the steering wheel with one hand.

"Oh for fuck sake that's going to be in one of your edits, all over tik-tok" he laughs, looking at the position you were in currently driving.

"Okay we have another ride"

"Corey?"

"This is far too nice to be an Uber car" he says getting in the back carefully as you look at the destination which was a 12 minute ride away.

"Yeah, its a company car mate, wish she was mine" you offer, while keeping your eyes on the road.

"Y/N you don't need a company car you're rich, you have an R8 and a vintage Audi at home" Liam laughs before the guys gives you both a strange look.

"Oh my god, your both F1 drivers!" he exclaims.

"That we are sir" you beam looking in the rearview at him.

"Nice race in Spain by the way!" he smiles.

"Thanks! We are both very excited!" you exclaim happy that you were having a conversation with a fan.

"So why are you guys Uber driving?" he asks.

"Well, we have a sponsor with Uber and we thought this would be a funny promo video!"

"That's pretty cool, I'll actually be in Silverstone actually" he says showing Liam his tickets.

"Ohhh, well on behalf of Audi, ill get you a paddock pass for being a 5 star customer today!" you offer and he gasps in shock.

"Thank you so much!" he exclaims before you hand him contact details for where he can get his pass from on the day of the race.

"Your welcome have a nice day" he exclaims and before you know it you and Liam have switched again and he's back to driving.

"I'm getting kind of hungry, Maccas drive through on the company card?" Liam grins cheekily making you nod vigorously. You were starving having not eaten since the morning and it was now rounding late afternoon.

You pull up to the drive threw and the voice sounds out.

"Hello, what can i get for you today" the bored yet youthful voice says behind the order board.

"Hi so I'm going to get a Medium Bic Mac meal, with chips and ermmmm I'll get a coke" he advises before looking at you. You just shove your phone in his face, asking him to say it for you.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, erm A Garlic Mayo Wrap meal with Carrot sticks? Carrot sticks really? Who the fuck goes to a McDonalds and gets Carrot Sticks, erm and an Oasis please" Liam finishes shaking his head at you in disagreement.

"Anything else"

"Yeah a medium chips and a nugget sharebox" he informs and you look at him in shock, he just shrugs his shoulder pulling forward to the next window.

"What I'm hungry, the nuggets are to share and the chips are for you" he smiles.

You both make a little tray in the middle of the car so you can eat without being messy.

"So, on a scale of one-ten how strict are you parents" you ask after biting into your wrap and chewing the contents.

"Hmmm, well my parents have always been pretty chill! They push me when it comes to racing but other than that they are supportive but in a good way" he smiles.

"So answer the question" you comment looking at him with an 'are you fr?' attitude.

"Oh so like a two, no really that strict at all"

"What's been the best meal of you life"

"This right here with you" he smiles genuinely and you cant be sure if the cameras pick up the light blush that is grazing across your cheeks.

"This crappy McDonalds, in an expensive Audi is your best meal?" you tease back, taking a sip of your drink.

"Mmmhhh" he mumbles smiling.

"Okay, what about your favorite place in the world?"

"See this one is hard, because I move around so much as a driver. You know for most of the year I'm going from country to country driving in one of the most competitive sports. New Zealand has a special place in my heart, but at the same time England has become extremely special to me" he smiles again.

You guys finish up the food, and you end on a group of fan boys who all asked to get pictures with the both of you and the car. Liam drove down the motorway and they were all squealing like little girls by the time you dropped them outside of Stamford Bridge Stadium.

"Enjoy the match boys" you shout.

"Have you ever been to a English Premier League game? We should go. I know Mason Mount, he could get us in" you wiggle your eyebrows.

And that's how you and Liam Lawson ending up watching a Chelsea FC match very very last minute.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover

[cumikering]

John Price x reader

2.5k | tw implied sui ideation, angst, comfort Thank you for being here today

John smiled to himself as he watched from the end of the bar. A few feet away, a group of three women chatted. The pub was packed, but it didn’t escape his notice that one in particular laughed so bright. The life of the party.

It was the same woman who ordered for the group, round after round. In fact, for other groups too. She’d sent rounds to random tables the past hour.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but what caught his eye was how his battery was at 4%. A stupid idea to be out on such little juice, but the outing wasn’t planned – it was no more than an escape.

His thoughts were interrupted when the barman placed a pint next to the bourbon he’d been nursing. He opened his mouth to clarify-

“Courtesy of the lady,” he gestured to the very same woman.

John nodded at her, the corners of his eyes crinkled. She raised her own pint in acknowledgment. He finished the last of his bourbon and made his way over with the gift.

“Noticed you’ve been buying people drinks. What’s the occasion?”

“It’s Saturday night. No one should be drinking alone.” She sipped her beer.

The corners of his lips tugged into a smile. “But aren’t we all fundamentally alone?”

“Correct, but not here-“ She shrugged, teasing. “If you can help it.”

“Honest, is it your birthday?”

“Nah. Just happy.”

“Wanna be like you when I grow up.”

Her laughter was crisp yet warm. It caressed his ears despite the rumble of the establishment.

“Cheers, love.” He clinked his glass against hers and took a swig.

“Enjoy.” She followed suit before turning back to her friends.

He lingered, leaning against the bar as his gaze wandered across the room. Framed photos of vintage rugby and football stills crammed the wooden walls as they glinted under the deep yellow glow. The pub had seen better days, but from the size and chatter of the crowd, it didn’t seem like anyone cared.

He didn’t either. He didn’t pick pubs for their looks.

Behind his glass, he smiled again at the way the woman laughed so easily. She reminded him of a certain someone, a blue-eyed Scot who never stopped soaring despite his clipped wings. The one with the sun roaring in his boundless heart.

The one to do things because he was happy.

She downed her beer, and gave each of her girls a tight hug. She was leaving, but not for a short time it seemed. She turned to the barman to tap her phone on the receiver before handing him a thick wad of bills. The grin cracked his face in half as he thanked her profusely.

John took a step towards her. “Leaving already?” he asked, a little louder this time due to the swelling noise.

“It’s almost 12.”

“Are you Cinderella?”

She laughed. “Wish I was.”

“You can be. I’ll just have to make sure to find you again.”

“No, don’t think so. It’s my last night here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m moving away.”

That explained the lengthy hugs. “Oh, where to?”

“Middle of nowhere. You wouldn’t know.”

John knew a thing or two about faraway places. He spent the entirety of that day in one.

“You’re really Cinderella,” he concluded and downed the rest of his pint. “Have you got a pumpkin chariot waiting outside?”

“It’s nothing that interesting.” She grinned. “Want to enjoy my walk before it’s terribly late.”

“I can walk with you, if you’d let me. You did say no one should be alone Saturday night.“

He was nosy, clingy – not himself. But after managing to crawl out of the hellhole he called his mind, this was his first conversation of the day and he wasn’t ready to wallow in his flat again just yet.

She shrugged. “Alright, why not.”

Once more, she hugged her friends, rubbing their backs. They were teary eyed, but she wasn’t - her smile as lively as ever. He tucked a few notes under his glass before following her out.

On the pavement, she took a lungful of fresh air in, chin tipped up towards the sky. He supposed the weather was decent. At least it wasn’t raining.

His boots thudded as he walked next to her. With her hands tucked in the pockets of her light jacket, she strolled with a little bounce to her step as she looked up at the stars. They were easy to miss, but they were present, and it was enough to bring a curve to her lips.

“I’m sorry, I just have to ask,” he said in amusement. “Why are you so happy?”

“Don’t have a reason not to be.”

Could you really be happy for no reason?

He chuckled. “You make me want to dance, and I don’t even dance.”

She glanced at him teasingly. “You should. Dancing is fun.”

“You know how to?”

“No, but you don’t need to know how.”

“Want to show me?”

She turned to him with a laugh. “What, now?”

He shrugged. Her joy was contagious.

“Well, first of all, you need music.”

“Lucky you, I got the whole world in my pocket.” He pulled out his phone and clicked the power button. Once, twice. It wouldn’t light up. “I take that back,” he said with a sheepish chuckle. “Your phone then.”

“If we find a busker.”

He barked out a laugh. “What are the chances at this hour!”

“Slim to none, but you’re probably luckier than me.”

John thought of the close calls he’d had: the gunshots to the shoulders or the bullets ricocheting off his helmet that sent his ears ringing, or the desperate jumps he’d executed from cold-blooded heights. But despite everything, the gift of life was still his. Still beating and fluttering in his rough hand, stained with blood that hadn’t washed off.

He hummed. “I like to think I’m pretty lucky.”

With wonder in her bright eyes, she continued to admire the sky.

Was the secret etched onto its darkness, behind the fading clouds and dying stars? Perhaps he could find out if he squinted, even that he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to look at.

Midnight London was nothing close to the desert skies he’d witnessed; the marbled ones with a handful of diamond shards splattered and swirled across them, the ones that made him feel like he was nothing but a speck of stardust waiting for its inevitable dissolve.

But perhaps the answer wasn’t in the beauty, but rather in what you made of what you had.

John glanced at her again because, well, a smile was a smile. If the unassuming sky could inflict something so beautiful, maybe it would work on him too. Even if just a tiny bit. If he’d just give it a chance.

As they entered her neighbourhood, she pointed out the establishments. This flower shop, the owner stopped her one day to give her a stalk of red orchid. That one cafe around the corner had amazing coffee and croissant, but she couldn’t bear waiting over an hour for them ever again. The chippy across it used to be her favourite kebab shop.

She chuckled. “I came in every week for years. It’s been three years and I still miss them.”

“You reckon they know how much their kebabs are loved?”

“Probably not. People never love enough until it’s gone.”

He considered.

“What does it matter anyway? The world runs on the width and height of love, not its depth.”

He shrugged. “True.”

He’d never taken the time to sightsee. It wasn’t really his thing, but a little tour of the city - the city she was leaving - made him feel nostalgic, like he too was leaving. Was he?

It didn’t feel like it took any time at all before she stopped at a building.

She turned to him with a wince. “Sorry, I’m not inviting you in.”

“I know. That’s fine.” John smiled, like the weight had been lifted off his chest, even if temporarily. “Today wasn’t the best for me, but you’ve made it better. So I wanted to thank you.”

She let her gaze drop, and for a second she looked… distraught, before recovering. “Well, you can come in for a bit.”

“Oh, don’t- I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad,” he quickly said, but she’d headed towards the stairs. He didn’t stop her.

She pushed open the door to a studio apartment, tiny even when it was nearly empty.

“Tea?” she offered, making her way to the kitchen.

Her bed was in the far corner, a small table with two chairs by its foot. Across it, stood a dresser with a guitar leaning against it. The walls and surfaces were bare. There was no clutter apart from an empty carboard box on the floor.

“Sure.”

He didn’t judge. He too barely had enough to fill out a box, but that was his room on base, not his flat.

“You’ve got everything packed, it looks like.”

She hummed, filling the kettle up.

“Can I use your charger for a bit so I can order a ride later?”

“Of course. It’s on the nightstand.”

John made his way over, but the charger wasn’t there, nor on the floor. Nor was it in the ajar drawer. It was empty, safe for one thing. He whipped to her, chills running down his spine.

“Actually, why don’t you keep it. I don’t need it anymore,” she said lightly, flicking the kettle on.

“S’not there,” he muttered.

She scanned the room. “Oh, sorry. Then it must be by the table,” she pointed.

Wordlessly, he strode over and plugged his phone in with shaky hands. He swallowed, his throat going dry as his heart drained. He stared at the back of her head as she opened the overhead cabinet, only to chuckle to herself.

“I’ve only got a mug left. A bowl would have to do.” She set them on the counter and opened two tea bags.

He was going to be sick. He blinked rapidly, searching for something to distract himself with. His eyes fell to her guitar. He swallowed once more before he croaked, “T- That’s a gorgeous one.”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled fondly at what he was pointing at. “It is. But one of the pegs broke and I never picked it back up.”

“Can I play?”

She frowned. “You can’t. It’s broken.”

“I’ll make do.”

“But it’s useless. I was going to give it away, but no one even wants it.”

“It’s still a guitar. And it’s not broken forever. Nothing is ever broken beyond repair.”

She paused before turning back to the counter. “Feel free then,” she said quietly.

He sat crossed legged on the floor, back against her bed. He strummed and tuned the dusty instrument as best he could. As expected, it didn’t sound right because of the jammed string.

His heart continued to beat out of his chest as she poured the hot water into the mug and bowl. She set them on the table before settling next to him.

The lump in his throat only swelled, but he turned towards her. His fingers trembled as he picked the strings. The first chord. A beat. A bar and two.

He let out a long, steady exhale. On any other day, he couldn’t have endured the disharmony, but today the ringing in his ears was far louder as he inhaled.

“Love of mine, someday you will die, but I’ll be close behind. I’ll follow you into the dark.”

John’s blue eyes stayed on hers as a smile blossomed on her lips. The sight pained him. His gaze cut to the fretboard.

“No blinding lights or tunnels to gates of white. Just our hands clasped so tight waiting for the hint of a spark.”

The metal strings buried themselves further in his fingertips. He drew a sharp breath, eyes shut, wishing the tears wouldn’t spill. Not now.

“If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied. Illuminate the ‘no’s on their vacancy signs. If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks,” he heaved, trying his best to calm his voice, but a tear finally slipped. “I’ll follow you into the dark,” he rasped.

When he looked up at her, she had turned away, wiping at her tears.

He set the guitar aside and inched closer to her. “I saw…” he started, even when he wasn’t sure what to say. “In the drawer.”

But he couldn’t help himself when he wrapped his arms around her. She clung onto him, face pressing against his shoulder.

“It hurts,” she choked between sobs, her tears seeping into his shirt. “I keep telling myself to hold on for another day… But it’s been too long, and it hasn’t stopped hurting.”

“I know. Thank you for choosing to be here, no matter how hard. Thank you for trying. Thank you for giving it a chance, every day. Thank you for letting the world love you, because it will never be the same without you.”

“I don’t know how much longer,” she mumbled into his shirt, shaking in his arms.

He rubbed her back as he let out a breath. Another tear ran down his cheek. “It might not be now. Might not be tomorrow or next week or next month, but I swear it will be okay in the end. Always. Even if the worst has happened.”

John didn’t know how long, but in the silence, he held her until her tears and its tremors dissipated. Her grip on him loosened.

“If you… Tonight…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Would you?”

She nodded. It was tiny, but it was all he needed.

He wiped his own tears with a shaky sigh. “Come on then. It’s your birthday. We can do whatever we want.”

“What?” She pulled away with a chuckle, her voice still hoarse.

“Let’s go out.”

“Where to?”

“Anywhere you want. Are you hungry? There’s waffles. Or chippy, pizza or kebab. The birthday girl can have everything.”

“What about the tea? It’s not even hot anymore.”

“Lucky me. Never been a fan of hot tea.”

She laughed through her drying tears as he chugged it down.

John Price considered himself pretty lucky, but he wasn’t lucky enough to find a busker in 2 a.m. London.

But he was lucky enough to spend hours on his tired legs walking across the city with her. They bought food - whatever that still looked appealing enough at the hour, until they decided to rest at a park. At the top of the stairs as they looked upon the rousing city, they basked in the remainder of its slumber.

At the break of dawn, in the distance, the blush of gold crept over the horizon.

She turned to him. It might not have been as wide or bright, but that smile carried something else. An empty field with the faintest sprout, stained with a tinge of hope.

“I’ll get my guitar fixed.”

It looked good on her.

Thank you for being here today. I’m so happy to have you here. Please stay safe and take care

Masterlist Ex bf Price Formula One Price

[bumblesimagines]

you're the one that kissed me!

i don't actually hate you.

we've been going at it for hours.

Felix Catton

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

"We've been going at it for hours."

Felix had never been one to give up so easily - or at least that was what he told himself - but he'd long grown tired of the irritated back and forth between him and his classmate, (Y/N). It felt as if everything he proposed was promptly shut down for one reason or another, even ideas that genuinely sounded ideal for their project. 

Felix had little idea why, where, and when (Y/N) began disliking him so much, especially when their interactions had been minimal until India had forced (Y/N) to join them one night at the pub and it derailed into a quick little game of spin the bottle suggested by Farleigh merely to stir trouble.

When (Y/N) had begrudgingly gone next and the end of the bottle landed on him, Felix fully expected him to opt-out or turn and kiss India instead but he'd gotten up and planted his lips firmly on Felix's; and sure, Felix hadn't exactly allowed it to be a simple peck when he grabbed the back of his head but surely that couldn't warrant discontentment, right?

"I told you we don't have to do this together, Catton." (Y/N) sighed heavily, as if Felix were the one causing issues. "We can choose-"

"Mrs. Johnston will know. It's a group project, mate. We're supposed to work together!" Felix never had this much trouble with another classmate before. Everyone loved him. Everyone. It was why everyone wanted to be him or be with him. Yet, (Y/N) stared at him like a tired mother watching her child throw an endless tantrum. "Listen, I don't get why you hate me when you're the one that kissed me! You could've skipped the turn and bought everyone another round to make up for it."

"I don't actually hate you." (Y/N) sighed again, rubbing his finger over the bridge of his nose. "I think you're spoiled and an asshole by sleeping around with girls who have crushes on you. I'm not going to hate you for it. I just don't... need distractions and you've been trailing after me like a lost puppy ever since the kiss."

"Because you've been ignoring me and acting like an asshole and I- I want to know why." Felix huffed softly and stared at him with softened eyes, his lips on the verge of forming a pout. (Y/N) pursed his lips and looked away from him, his fingers toying with the laces of his shoes. The sun pouring in through the window allowed Felix to get a good look at his face and he suddenly brightened. "You like me."

"Felix-"

"You like me," Felix repeated with a laugh, broad hands shoving away the binders and books between them so he could crawl closer to him. (Y/N) attempted to lean back and get up but Felix's long arms snatched him before he could and dragged him closer, eyes twinkling bright with mischief. "If you wanted another kiss, you could've just asked, mate." He told him giddily. 

"Can we talk about this later?" (Y/N) groaned, wriggling around fruitlessly in Felix's hold and feeling his skin burn as Felix teasingly dragged his lips over his cheeks and neck. 

"No." Felix grinned into his throat. "We're talking about this now."

[random-thot-generator]

Late Night Double Decker Delight

Ghost x reader

Thinking about being tipsy enough to get a little naughty with the big guy seated across from you on the bus.

It's a brainrot thot that turned into a smut purge. Just go with it .

tw- MDNI 18+ only - Smut below the cut. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, mutual masturbation.

divider by: @strangergraphics

You'd gone on a pub crawl with your mates for a girls' night out, so you're still a little tipsy when you board the bus hours later, ready to finally go home.

It's late enough that the bus isn't crowded, but you still climb to the upper deck and teeter down the aisle to the seats in the back. It's just always been your favorite spot on the bus, for whatever reason.

You pay no mind to the young couple snogging at the front of the bus or to the big bloke sitting across from you. All you care about is getting those bloody high-heeled sandals off, because they're killing your feet.

Turning, you kick your legs up on the seat beside you and start working at the tiny buckles and straps. You groan when you finally slip them off, wiggling your toes with a relieved sigh.

"Christ, that feels good," you mutter, dropping your shoes to the floor with your bag.

You lean back to rest your head on the cool glass of the window, eyes automatically focusing straight ahead. You smirk when you catch the big bloke across from you sneaking a peek.

Can't really blame him. Though it wasn't your intention, you've unknowingly been putting on quite a little show for him. With your legs up and knees bent, the hem of your short skirt has worked its way up. It's just barely covering your hips now, and the crotch of your lacy knickers is on full display.

He's trying not to look, bless him, trying to be a proper gent, but his dark eyes keep flicking in your direction, like he can't help himself. Feeling a little wicked, you smirk and let your knees drift apart just a wee bit more.

Soon enough, his eyes slip sideways again, then widen. His spine stiffens with a little jerk, sitting ramrod straight when he forces his eyes to face forward, no doubt feeling caught out. His hand curls into a fist on top of his thick thigh. Your smirk becomes a devilish little grin and you titter out a giggle.

He's not a bad looking bloke, now that you're looking at him. He's not handsome in the conventional sense, but there's still something arresting about him. To be honest, he looks like a bruiser. Broad, heavy brow, nose bent wrong from a bad break, a scar bisecting his eye brow, another that jags down from his high cheek bone to nick his upper lip. Hard, angular jaw, thick, corded neck, a cauliflower ear.

Yeah, definitely a bruiser.

And Jesus, the size of him. He's a big bastard. The hoodie and jeans don't hide the thickness of his body, the strong length of his limbs. He's no gym rat with sculpted muscles and zero body fat. He's got meat on his bones, but there's no mistaking the heavy muscle underneath.

You bite your lip. Blondes usually aren't your thing, but those dark eyes of his are really something. Lazy and heavy-lidded one second, intense and laser-focused the next. You decide you wouldn't mind having them focused back on you again. In fact, you'd prefer it.

Your knees spread just a little wider apart.

A muffled moan grabs your attention. You peek over the seat to see the couple up front are still snogging, going at it hot and heavy. Tongues dueling, hands groping, it looks like they're trying to devour each other. Heat floods your body, watching them go at it. Your hand resting on your thigh slides higher, fingers dipping towards your center. A lacquered nail brushes against lace. Your hips twitch. You do it, again, just barely grazing over the lacy material. You hum, pleasure vibrating in the back of your throat.

The sound draws his gaze back to you again, his head turned more in your direction this time. Oh yeah, he likes what he sees, and that only makes you want to show him more. Knee knocking into the back of the seat in front of you, you slide two fingers over your mons, stroke down your covered slit. It makes your clit tingle and God, does that feel good. Your eyes flutter shut, but his low groan has them snapping open again.

He's slouching in his seat, hips shifting forward to spread his legs wider. Head turned, he's now openly watching you pet your pussy, dark eyes smoldering. His hand slides off his thigh, up and over his crotch, palming at his cock through his jeans. He then gives the immense bulge a hard squeeze, and oh fuck is that hot. You increase the pressure of your hand, biting your lips together to muffle a moan as you cant your hips.

Your knickers are getting damp and sticky, the smell of your own musk hitting your nose. It triggers a pulse of arousal deep in your core, muscles contracting, channel clenching, and you can feel your slick ooze out of your folds. Fingers tense, you draw them up to rub circles on your swollen clit, a whimper escaping your parted lips.

The big bloke grunts, gripping himself hard, eyes unblinking as he stares at your hand working your hard little nub. His face is flushed, color riding high on his cheekbones and damp forehead. Fuck, you want to see him, want him to pull his cock out and stroke it for you with that big, rough hand of his.

"Take it out," you gasp at him from across the aisle, eyes locking with his. You nod in encouragement when he stares at you, uncertain. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. "Wanna see you," you breathe out, eyes flickering back down to his crotch.

His head swivels to peer over the seat at the front of the bus. The young couple are oblivious to the two of you, the randy lad basically on top of her now, pressing her back against the window. They're too busy with their own little make-out sesh to notice what's happening in the back with the two of you.

Burning gaze shifting back, he hesitates then twists to face you, throwing a heavy leg up on the seat. Tugging up the bottom of his hoodie, he works with frantic fingers at his belt and fly, parting the denim to reveal a bit of pale skin dusted with golden hair above the waistband of his undershorts. Bracing his feet to lift his hips, he works his jeans down a little lower. He then shoves a hand into his skivvies, using the other to push the waistband down, hooking it under his heavy balls as he hauls his cock out in his fist.

"Oh, fuck," you breathe, hips bucking at the sight of him. Your hand speeds up.

He's bloody big. His cock is long and thick with a bulbous, fat head that's already slipped its foreskin. It's flushed a dark pink and shiny-wet with precum. Your tongue flicks out, swiping between your lips as you watch a bead form, the desire to lick it off strong.

His fist starts pumping, eyes zeroed in between your thighs. "Show me tha' pretty pussy, sweet'art," he mutters low and guttural, rumbling like distant thunder.

Christ, that gravelly voice. His accent is northern, working class, and you can imagine it uttering the most filthy things in your ear. Your eyes roll up at the thought. Barely slowing your circling fingers, you pull aside the soaked gusset of your knickers with your other hand. Cool air hits the swollen, hot lips of your sex and you whimper. God, you're a mess, slick smeared everywhere, droplets clinging in your pubes.

"Ah, fuck," he groans, hand stroking down to grip the base of his cock in a tight fist. "So fuckin' wet."

His shaft is flushed an angry red, his grip so tight it looks painful. More precum beads then breaks, slipping down the delicate tuck of his frenulum, and saliva floods your mouth.

The tip of your tongue curls up to press into the bow of your upper lip, your panting breaths now audible. You want to lick that drop away so bad, follow its trail back up to his glossy tip and probe its tiny slit for more, before you pop the fat head into your mouth and draw deep.

Your hips roll, fingertips gliding over your pulsing entrance. You circle it, feel it contract, squeezing out more slick. You let a finger dip inside, pull it back, plunge it in a little deeper.

"Fuck, tha's it, sweet girl," he mutters urgently, fist working his cock. "Lemme— nnh! Lemme see ya fuck tha' pretty pussy."

His voice sounds like sin panting out those filthy words. It makes your cunt clench around your finger, pulling it deeper. His words sound so fucking dirty, but it feels so-so fucking good. When you add another finger, it feels even better.

"Fuck yeah, jus' like tha'," he slurs, hips rutting as his hand pumps faster. His mouth falls open, tongue lolling out to swipe at his bottom lip. "Christ, wanna lick yer pussy." He grunts, his expression turning feral. "Bet it tastes s'fuckin' sweet," he snarls, baring his clenched teeth.

You whimper and pump your fingers faster, can hear sloppy, wet schlick of each quick thrust. They match the frantic fapping noises coming from across the aisle. You fixate on his pistoning hand, hear his choked grunts, and feel your pelvic muscles tighten, your core begin to pulse.

"I— oh fuck— I'm gonna come," you pant, shocked at how fast you got there.

Do it!" he demands, fist flying. "Come f'me." When he sees your thighs begin to tremble, his eyes suddenly go wide then snap shut. "Fuck— Fuck!" he strains out, his back curling forward, then his cock erupts.

Watching him come, your own orgasm hits you like a freight train. "Oh, God..." you gasp.

His head snaps up, watching as your climax crashes through you, your body seizing up and shaking with the force of it. A look of savage pride and satisfaction has him baring his teeth in a wolfish grin. God, that expression alone could make you come.

You stare at each other as you come down, breaths slowing, sweat cooling. When you glance down at the cum striping his lower abdomen, you experience a little puff of pride yourself. It gives you a deep sense of satisfaction knowing he came that hard that fast because of you. You figure he must feel the same way, because he did the same thing to you

Grabbing your bag from the floor, you dig out a packet of travel tissues and split them with him. It begins to get awkward as you both set about cleaning up and righting your clothes. To fill the stilted silence, you exchange names, try to joke about what just happened, but it's too embarrassing to keep the conversation going. Then you remember the other couple. Bloody hell, you forgot all about them.

Peeking over the seat, it's only then you realize they're gone. When did that happen? Frowning, you peer out the window and gasp. Christ, you're almost at your stop.

Hissing curses under your breath, you grab your shoes, fingers fumbling with the blasted tiny buckles as you hurry to strap them on again.

"Ya olright, sweet'art?" your big bloke— Simon; he said his name is Simon— asks you.

You peek up at him through your lashes, feeling bashful now that your buzz is gone. "Um, yeah. Just didn't realize we were so close to my stop."

He nods, looking chagrined. "Doan feel bad. I missed mine altogether."

You laugh, liking the wry, sheepish look on his face. "We were a bit, um... distracted."

He huffs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Heh... Yeah." Then a little smirk curls up the corner of his mouth. "Ain't about t'complain, though. Best bus ride of my bloody life," he murmurs lowly.

Now you're the one who's flustered, but feeling beyond chuffed. "Me, too," you confess with a shy grin. You tilt your head. "Sorry you missed your stop."

He shrugs. "Doan matter. I'll call an Uber after I walk ya home. 'S too late f'ya t'be out walkin' alone."

His concern makes you feel all warm inside. It's been a long time since you've met a decent bloke. You give him a considering look, then smile. "Want to come up to mine for a beer first? Least I can do, since you're walking me home."

He takes you up on that beer after walking you home.

But he didn't call for the Uber until after breakfast the next morning.

-

[foundtherightwords]

Love, If You're Near

Pairing: Michael (Hoard) x OFC

Summary: With a troubled past and a hopeless future, Gwen is just trying to survive on the streets of London. When she meets a man named Michael with a rather strange request, she shrugs and goes along with it, never dreaming that she will find a soul just as broken as hers, or that sometimes broken pieces can fit together perfectly, to bring healing and hope when one least expects it.

Warnings: discussions of prostitution and domestic abuse

Word count: 6.8k

A/N: I've had this idea for Michael even before "Hoard" was released, and after watching the film, I was happy that it was still viable. I don't condone Michael's actions, but I can see where his desire for love and affection comes from, and I hope that after what happened with Maria, Michael could start his own journey of redemption and healing. It is what I based my idea on. I also took some inspiration from "Frankie and Johnny" (the 1991 movie with Michelle Pfeiffer and Al Pacino, not the song).

"Hoard" takes place in 1994, and this is about 4 years after that.

Also, big thanks to @wheels-of-despair for sending me a transcript of the movie. It's helped me tremendously in deciphering the East London dialogue!

Gwen dropped down on a bench outside Dalston Junction Station, slipped her right shoe off her aching foot, and gingerly touched the raw red spot on the back of her heel, through her fishnet. "Cheap piece of shit," she grumbled. Except the shoes weren't exactly cheap. Twenty quid down the drain and they hurt like fuck, even after she'd tried every trick in the book to break them in. But her last pair had broken beyond repair, so it was either this or go barefoot, and she didn't want to step on broken needles and used condoms and whatever garbage that littered the backstreets of Hackney. Plus it was freezing. She'd met a stag do the previous night, and they had kept her out until the morning, eventually straining her all the way over in Chiswick. It was almost noon by the time she crawled back to her flat. It was too cold to sleep in, so she'd whiled away the day in coffee shops and pubs, waiting until it was time to go back out on the street. At this rate, she would take a five-quid blowjob in a car if it meant getting somewhere warm.

Across the street, the Hackney Carnival Mural shouted at her with its peeling musicians and protestors waving their "Unite for Peace" banners. Gwen turned away, annoyed. Idiots. What good is peace, when one is cold and tired and doesn't even have a decent pair of shoes?

It was almost Christmas, and a slow night. The nights had been slow for a while now, not like when she first started. Ten years on the streets, she thought she'd known how it worked. Then three years in the clink, and when she got out, it was like Brave New World out here. Foreign girls flooded the market. The pimps and the punters liked them because they were younger and easier to control, but the local girls knew that naïveté was just an act. These newcomers were tougher and meaner, and they wouldn't hesitate to pull a knife on those that dared to encroach on their territory. That was if they were still on the streets in the first place. It was all indoors now, and they didn't even have to rely on the old tart-card-in-phone-box method of advertisement. The Internet had that covered.

Gwen readjusted her long blonde wig and sighed. Sometimes she felt much older than her thirty-one years.

She put her shoe back on with a grimace. Perhaps she could try her luck up the road, near the Shacklewell Arms. Her friend Medusa worked that corner, and sometimes she would let Gwen stay with her so they could team up against the new girls.

Medusa's real name was Melissa, but all girls needed some exotic street names. For Halloween one year, back when they were both younger and sillier and full of hope, Gwen had even helped her attach plastic snake's heads to her dreads, both giggling like mad.

Gwen took the backstreets to avoid the twinkling lights, the sound of Christmas music, and the scents of evergreen and cinnamon that spilled out from every door and shop window. They depressed her. Her feet would not thank her for the detour, but her heart would.

By the time she reached the Arms, she was sure her blister had burst and was bleeding. Some indie band had just finished their gig, and the front of the pub was crawling with people. Gwen peered into the crowd, trying to make out Medusa's statuesque form. As she spied Medusa's dreads swinging to and fro, Gwen opened her mouth to call her friend. Her eyes fell on the man next to Medusa, and the call died in her throat. It was Medusa's boyfriend and pimp, Nico.

Despite Medusa's insistence that Nico was "not that bad", Gwen knew better than to face him. At best, he would cajole her into coming to work for him, and at worst he would threaten and force her. Gwen knew what it was like to tie yourself to a man. Usually, she could chase Nico off with a few choice words, but in her current state, cold, exhausted, and irritated, she had no strength to deal with him. She beat a quick retreat.

And collided with someone.

It was a man coming out of one of the cheaper and seedier establishments that lined the back alleys behind Shacklewell Lane. "Excuse me," he mumbled.

"'s alright," Gwen said. And, because he was a man and she was working, she added, out of professional habit, "You looking for company?"

"No, thank you," the man said, a little too quickly, and started to walk away. A few steps, then he seemed to have second thoughts and turned back. "How much?" he asked.

Gwen gave him the once-over. He was probably in his mid-thirties, medium built, dressed in old jeans, an older jumper, and sturdy boots. A working man, then, not a tourist or an out-of-towner looking for some cheap thrills. Not her ideal client, but beggars cannot be choosers.

She told him her hourly rate. "Forty quid and I'll do whatever you want, darling." It wasn't high, all things considered, but it wasn't cheap either. She had her dignity.

The man shook his head. "That's—that's out of my—sorry." He turned away again.

Gwen slumped against a brick wall with a sigh. Maybe she should call it a night. The prospect of her cold flat with its empty fridge was not very welcoming though. Maybe she could find Medusa again. She was desperate enough to even risk Nico.

As she struggled to her feet, she staggered backward and collided, for the second time that night, with someone. This time it was a little girl who was coming out of a doorway with her mother. The girl was holding to the hem of her mother's coat with one hand and in the other was a teddy, which she dropped to the ground.

"Sorry," Gwen said. She quickly picked up the teddy, dusted it off, and handed it to the girl with a smile. "Here you go, love."

The girl stared back at Gwen with enormous eyes but said nothing and made no move to take her teddy. The mother snatched the toy back. "Why don't you watch where you're going, you slag!" she snarled. "And stay away from my kid."

"You watch where you're going!" Gwen spat. "What are you doing, dragging a kid out on the street this late anyway? She should be in bed!"

The mother's nostrils flared. "Don't tell me how to raise my own kid! What does a slut like you know about being a mother?" With that, she snatched the kid up in her arms and stormed off. Swallowing her anger, Gwen walked away in the opposite direction.

A moment later, a wail from the little girl caused Gwen to turn back, just in time to see the woman yank the teddy out of her hand and toss it into the nearest bin.

An inexplicable fury prompted Gwen to chase after them despite her blister, not even knowing what she would do if she caught them, but the woman turned down a side street and disappeared. Only the teddy stared up at Gwen from the bin with a rather mournful look, or so she imagined.

She picked it up and straightened up the bowtie around its neck. "I know more about being a mother than that bitch," she said to the teddy, and, without knowing why, she put it in her bag.

Feeling eyes on her, she looked up to see the man who had rejected her still standing at the mouth of the alley, watching her with a strange expression. Something in his dark eyes made blood rush to her cheeks, and she growled, "What the fuck are you looking at?"

He approached her slowly. "Forty an hour, you say?"

She stood up a little straighter. "Yeah."

"And you'll do whatever I want?"

"Within reasons," she said warily.

"Where can we go?"

"You have a car?" He shook his head. "Well, then that depends on what you have in mind," she said. "Even an alleyway would do, though I have to tell you, I'm not keen on getting any more blisters tonight." He colored slightly, and Gwen found herself wondering if this was his first time. She glanced at his hand. No ring. But then again, this type always takes care to leave their ring at home, don't they?

"My flat's not far from here," he said. "Do you mind—?"

Gwen hesitated. She made it a point never to go with a customer to a place she was unfamiliar with. Too risky. But she was cold and tired and just wanted to get this done.

She scrutinized the man, more carefully this time. He had dark hair pushed away from his forehead in soft curls, and a face that, had she been feeling better, she would have found quite handsome. What really struck her, though, were his eyes. They were dark and large, fringed by ridiculously long lashes, which made him look almost boyish. Gwen, who had to rely on false lashes and mascara to get such a doe-eyed look, stared at those lashes enviously. Noticing her scrutiny, he glanced at her briefly and looked away again. That shy, beseeching look finally cinched it for her.

"Alright," she said. "But cash up front."

"Fair enough." He opened his wallet and handed her some crumpled fivers and a tenner. Gwen counted them carefully before stuffing them into her bag. She also checked that her pepper spray was still in her bag—no matter how unassuming the man looked, or how sad his eyes were, she had to be careful. Technically, it was illegal to carry pepper spray, but Gwen never let a small thing like legality stop her.

Her fingers brushed across a little card, and Gwen paused momentarily. She'd been given that card by a group of women who roamed the area in twos and threes, who might be mistaken for working girls at first glance. She supposed that was their disguise. They were a non-profit helping to get women off the streets, they said. Give us a call anytime, they said. Gwen had scoffed at their optimism, yet for some reason, she still held on to their card. 

"What's your name?" the man asked.

"What do you want it to be?" she said, again out of habit, too tired to actually be coquettish. The man raised his eyebrows at her, and Gwen relented. "You can call me Queenie." Medusa wasn't the only girl with a ridiculous street name.

She didn't ask his name. She didn't care.

They went down Shacklewell Lane, away from the bright lights and loud noises of the Arms, crossed the A10, and through some side street lined with terraced houses. Then the houses gave way to chippies, greasy spoons, Laundromats, and off-licenses. Gwen was whimpering by the time they reached a block of council flats, its brown brick façade the color of dry blood under the dim streetlamps.

"You all right?" the man asked, glancing at her.

"How far up?" Gwen managed, looking up at the looming building, trying to calculate how quickly she could run out of there, if necessary.

"Fifth floor."

She let out an involuntary groan. The man looked at her for a moment. And then, before she realized what he was doing, he scooped her up in his arms in one smooth movement and carried her up the stairs, bridal style.

"Do you mind?!" she protested. The man said nothing, only kept walking.

Gwen tried to wriggle out, but she was too tired and his arms were too strong, and after a moment, she gave up and leaned her head against his shoulder. He smelled, not unpleasantly, of soap and sweat and rollies, and she found herself pressing her nose into the crook of his neck, breathing in his human scent, to purge from her memories the stench of piss and stale beer and rubbish that had assaulted her all through the night.

For all his strength, the man was panting a little by the time they arrived at his door. He set Gwen down on her feet and fumbled with the lock. The moment they were through the door, she collapsed on the nearest available surface, which happened to be an old, rather threadbare sofa, and pulled her shoes off.

"Take it from me," she said. "Never wear heels."

He seemed amused. "OK, I won't." He went about flipping on the lights. "Do you want some Epsom salt for that?"

"Nah, I've had worse."

The man disappeared behind a door down the hall—the bathroom, she supposed—and emerged a second later with a plaster. He then knelt in front of her, rolled down her right stocking and lifted her foot into his lap, not in a sensual or seductive way, but rather matter-of-factly, and stuck the plaster on her heel, like a parent cleaning up a child's skinned knee. This done, he pulled out the sofa and made a bed on it, still in that same matter-of-fact manner.

Something rolled out from under the sofa—a piece of Lego. Gwen's eyebrow went up. Following her eyes, the man saw the Lego as well and turned red. He quickly kicked it back under the sofa and went on making the bed as if nothing had happened. Well, if he wasn't going to say anything, then she certainly wouldn't either.

"Right," she said, rolling down her other stocking. "Let's get started, shall we?"

He turned toward her, looking alarmed. "No, no, no," he said and put his hand over Gwen's, stopping her. "Clothes on, please."

Gwen tilted her head. It wasn't the first time she'd been asked to keep her clothes on, though it was rare enough that it still came as a surprise. She wasn't keen on having her dress all wrinkled and stained. It would be a nightmare to get it clean. But she pulled her fishnets back up anyway

The man sat down next to her on the sofa bed, sheepishly avoiding her eyes. "I'm Michael, by the way," he said.

"Nice to meet you, Michael," Gwen said, because that's what one is supposed to say when someone introduces themselves.

"Would you like something to drink? Cup of tea?"

If he'd offered her some wine or whiskey or even beer, she might have accepted, but tea was probably the least erotic drink Gwen could think of. "No, thanks," she said. She didn't trust him not to slip her a Mickey—hey, Mickey and Michael, that's rich, she thought, chuckling to herself. When Michael didn't say anything, she reminded him, "You only paid me for an hour."

"Could you—" he began, looking down at a spot on the scuffed floor. "Would you mind—could you just hold me?"

Is that it? Gwen had to stop herself from grinning. This really was his first time then, poor lamb. She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around him. "Like this?" she whispered into his ear. Michael nodded and eased them both down on the bed until they were spooning, with her behind him, so she couldn't see his eyes. "What else do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Just this."

Gwen frowned. "What?"

"Just hold me like this, please."

She sat up to look at him properly. He was lying on his side with his eyes open, staring not at her but at something or somewhere else, miles away.

"You're not going to make me put a giant diaper on you and breastfeed you, are you?" Medusa had once met a punter with that request. It had been part of the reason why she'd decided to work for Nico, so she could avoid another awkward situation like that, though, in Gwen's mind, it was rather like out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Michael turned to her. "What?"

"You don't want to tie me up, and you don't want me to tie you up?"

"No."

"You don't even want to have sex?"

He blushed again. "No."

"So let me get this straight," she said. "You're paying me forty quid to—spoon you?"

"Yeah." He sat up as well. "Look, if you're not comfortable with it, I understand. I'll pay you for your time, and then you can go."

She considered. As far as requests went, it was an odd one, but certainly not the strangest she'd had. And it sounded innocent enough—perhaps the most innocent of all. Still, she would not be lulled into a sense of safety. She pulled her bag a little closer to make sure she could reach inside and get the pepper spray if necessary. Her shoes would be a write-off—she could run faster barefoot anyway.

"Just—hold you?" she asked again, wanting to make sure. "For an hour?"

He looked up at her with those dark eyes, imploring, infinitely sad, like those of a lost child or a dying animal, and Gwen felt her heart stumble. "Yes, please," he said.

"I'm not charging you the full rate just for a bit of cuddle!"

"It's OK, really. I don't mind."

"I do," she insisted. "It's about being professional. What do you do for a living?"

He seemed taken aback by her question, but he answered anyway. "I'm a cleaner. At St. Mary's Hospital." He was quiet for a moment, then added, "Used to be a bin man. But I couldn't take the stink anymore."

Something in the way he said it made Gwen think that there were other reasons besides the stink for him to give up being a bin man, but it was none of her business. "You wouldn't take the full wage for cleaning half the hospital, would you?" she asked.

Something like a smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "I guess not."

"OK, so let's say twenty an hour, and we have a deal."

A moment's hesitation, and he extended a hand. They shook on it. His hand was warm, his grip strong and steady, and Gwen wondered why such a man could be so alone, and so lonely.

She made to give him back the twenty quid, but he pushed her hand away. "Keep it. I may ask you to stay longer."

"All right," she said, tucking the bills into her bra. "No funny business, mind."

"No."

She lay back down and put one arm around him again, leaving the other free so he couldn't easily pin her under him. "Is this OK?" she asked.

"It's fine," he said. "You don't have to do anything. Just—be natural."

Natural. Gwen wasn't even sure if she remembered how to be natural in bed anymore. She knew how to be enthusiastic, how to be dominant or submissive, how to be seductive, even how to be afraid. But natural? She no longer knew what that meant.  

The minutes ticked by.

While they lay there, Gwen let her eyes wander around, trying to find some clues that might point to danger. She saw a sparsely furnished flat, similar to her own. There were only the sofa bed, a coffee table, and a TV taking up the front room, a kitchenette to the side, and two closed doors, one leading to the bathroom, the other she had no idea. She saw more evidence of a kid—childish drawings on the fridge door, a small toothbrush, a bowl of half-eaten cereal on the coffee table. If he had a kid, she certainly hoped the kid wasn't locked in that spare room.

Her wandering eyes returned to Michael. He had taken his jumper off and was now in a vest. There was a tattoo on his bicep. "Who's Billy?" she asked.

"Mate of mine, from school," he said in a small voice. "He OD'ed."

"Shit," she said. And then, "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." His hand found hers, clasped it to his chest.

"What are you doing?" she asked, pulling away.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Your hand's cold. I was just trying to warm it up."

"I would've worn a coat, but unfortunately it doesn't go with this outfit," she joked. Her only warm coat would've covered up what she was trying to sell. She left her hand in his, feeling the heavy thump of his heart under her palm. He nestled into her with a sigh, but she remained stiff, keeping some distance between her chest and his back, so she could bolt at the first sign of danger.

But it never came. Instead, his breath evened out, and soon he was asleep.

Gwen must have dozed off as well, for she remembered jolting awake. Michael was still sleeping, holding her hand to his chest as if afraid she would fly off if he let go.

This could be her chance. After making sure Michael was sound asleep, Gwen carefully slid her hand out of his grasp, got out of bed, and tiptoed down the hall. She opened two closed doors. One was a bathroom, just as she suspected. The other was a bedroom, a kid's bedroom, painted in bright, buttery yellow, with a frilly little bed and cheerful toys and books piled on the shelves, a complete contrast to the sad, gray flat outside.

Gwen's feet took her into the room almost of their own volition. She gazed about, a strange melancholy washing over her. No, there wasn't anything strange about this sadness. She knew exactly where it was coming from; she just didn't want to think about it.

There was a framed photo on the bedside table, and she picked it up—it was of Michael, smiling a big, happy smile, carrying on his shoulder a little girl of about two or three years old, who had his same brown curls and his chocolate button eyes.

"What are you doing?" said his voice behind her.

She jumped and dropped the picture, which landed safely on the bed.

"Sorry," she said, fumbling to pick up the frame. "I was looking for the—uh, bathroom. I didn't mean to snoop."

"It's OK." He didn't look angry, only a little awkward, like she had stumbled on an embarrassing secret. It emboldened her.

"This your kid's room?" she asked.

"Yeah." He took the picture frame from her and set it back on the table. "She lives with her mum. I only have her on weekends and when her mum has to work nights, but I try to keep the room nice and clean for her," he explained.

Gwen let out a small breath and reminded herself to stop watching so much The Bill. From the way he had been so secretive about it, she was expecting something tragic. She was glad it wasn't.

"That her?" She nodded at the picture.

A ghost of a proud smile hovered over Michael's lips. "Her name's Amelia."

"Pretty name. Suits her."

"Don't let that face fool you, she's a little terror."

"How old is she?"

"Turning four soon."

"Oh, that's a great age," Gwen said without thinking. "That's when you can start to have a real conversation with them, and it's so fun."

"It is." Michael looked at her sharply. "Have you got a kid?"

For a moment, Gwen considered telling him the truth. It felt so nice, so normal, to talk in that cheery little room, as if sunshine had been stored in its bright yellow paint and the warmth of it was seeping into her, chasing away the cold of those long, lonely nights out on the street. She wanted to hold on to that feeling a little longer.

But she was here to work, not to have a heart-to-heart like she was on some bloody chat show.

"No," she lied.

"Because you sound like you know kids," he said.

Anger pricked at Gwen's insides. Who did this punter think he was?

"It's none of your business," she snapped. Michael continued to stare at her, and the intensity of his eyes forced her to look away. The flat was closing in on her, suffocating her, like her old prison cell. She couldn't breathe. She had to get out of here, get away from this strange man whose eyes seemed to penetrate her very soul.

She grabbed her bag. "I have to go."

Michael glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised. "But I paid you for two hours."

"Here." She tossed the money on the bed, picked up her shoes, and all but ran. He caught her at the door.

"What did I do?" he asked.

"Nothing. I just have to go."

"Don't do this," he said, clutching at her arm like a child afraid of being separated from its mother. "Don't leave. Please." The pleading note in his voice now sounded more like a command. That voice, the hard grip of his hand, and the dark glint in his eyes awoke something savage within Gwen, a cold fury she hadn't felt in years.

"Let me go," she said quietly, "or I'll kill you."

He dropped her arm in an instant. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his eyes glistening with what looked like tears. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you—I just don't know how to—"

As suddenly as it appeared, Gwen's anger vanished. She couldn't afford to lose her temper like that.

"It's fine," she said. "Just let me—"

Before she could finish, there was a knock on the door. "Michael?" said a voice on the other side. "You in?" A woman's voice.

Michael turned to Gwen, his eyes enormous on his pale face. "Hide," he mouthed to her.

A part of Gwen wanted to be defiant and face whoever was at the door—a wife? A girlfriend?—so she could watch Michael squirm, but another part of her took pity on his panic. Rolling her eyes, she made her way into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

"Leah," she heard Michael say, as he opened the front door. "What's wrong? Is Amelia all right?"

Peeking through a crack of the bedroom door, Gwen saw a woman standing in the doorway. She had auburn hair pulled into a tight bun and a scowling, disapproving expression that seemed terminal. A little girl was asleep in her arms.

These must be his ex and their daughter then. Gwen retreated into the shadow of the room, feeling strangely embarrassed, like she had intruded on an intimate scene. In some way, she had.

"She's fine," Leah said, and Michael let out a breath of relief. "It's my mum," Leah continued, looking harried. "She's had a fall. I have to go to Cardiff to see her. Don't know when I'll be back, so I can't take Amelia with me—" She looked around the flat, her eyes narrowing as they landed on the bills scattered on the sofa bed. Michael looked away, his cheeks flushed. "Is this a bad time?" Leah asked.

"No, not at all," Michael said quickly. "I'll take her. Call me when you get to Cardiff and let me know how your mum is."

With a curt nod, Leah handed their daughter over. She brushed a curl away from the sleeping child's forehead and went downstairs, but not before throwing another suspicious look over her shoulder.

Gwen waited for another moment or two until the coast was clear, and emerged from the bedroom. Michael, with his arms full of a sleeping toddler, gave her an apologetic look.

"Well, I'll be off then," Gwen said, trying not to show how the sight of the little girl was affecting her.

Michael hesitated. "Listen," he said. He tried to take her hand, but his arms were too full to reach. "You don't have to run off like that. I'm sorry about earlier. Stay for a bit. It's cold out."

"I'll be fine," Gwen said lightly. "And you're busy. I should go." At the door, she paused. "Good luck, Michael."

At that moment, Amelia lifted her head from her father's shoulder. "Daddy?" she said, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Michael said, and the tenderness in his voice made Gwen want to cry. She knew she should be going now, but some invisible force was rooting her to the spot, making her watch Michael with his daughter as if hypnotized. "Mum has to go to Grandma's," he was saying, "so you're staying with me for a bit. Is that all right?"

The little girl rubbed her eyes with a chubby fist. "Where's Snappy?" she said.

Michael looked around. He patted the pockets of Amelia's coat and came up empty. "You don't have him with you?" The girl shook her head. "You must have forgotten him at home then."

"I want him."

"We'll get him when Mum comes back—"

"I want him now!" Amelia demanded. She no longer sounded sleepy.

Michael gave Gwen an exasperated look over his daughter's head. Despite the twist of pain in her heart, Gwen couldn't help but grin back in rueful sympathy.

"What's Snappy?" she whispered to Michael.

"Her crocodile." Turning to Amelia, he said, "Don't worry, Snappy will be fine—"

But Amelia was not having it. "No!" she shouted. "I want Snappy! I'm not going without Snappy! Give me Snappy!"

"Let's just go to bed first, and then I'll find Snappy for you, yeah?"

"No! I don't want to stay here without Snappy!" The little girl started kicking and wriggling to get out of Michael's arms, and there was a shrill note in her voice that Gwen knew well would be followed by a tantrum. Wincing, Michael set Amelia down on the floor. The little girl pushed at her father, shouting, "I want Snappy!"

"Hey, hey, stop," Michael gently admonished her. "I don't have a key to Mum's place, so we can't get in. You have a lot of toys here—"

"I don't wanna stay here! I wanna go home! I want Mum!"

At that, something seemed to break within Michael. Without saying a word, he dropped Amelia on the sofa bed and went over to the kitchenette, where he plopped down at the table with his head in his hands. All the while, Amelia kept crying for Snappy.

Gwen looked between the despondent father and the wailing toddler. None of this had to do with her. She did not need to get involved. She should leave now.

She didn't leave.

She sat down in front of Amelia, who continued to sniff and snuffle. The violence of her tantrum seemed to have passed into a sulk.

"Hi," Gwen said. "You're Amelia, right?"

The little girl wiped a sleeve across her runny nose. "Who're you?" she asked.

Gwen glanced at Michael. He was still sitting with his head in his hands. Odd, that. Why was he acting like a tantrum was the end of the world? "My name's Gwen," she said. Michael raised her head at this, but made no comment. "I'm—I'm a friend of your dad's. Amelia's a very pretty name. Have you ever heard of Princess Amelia?"

At the mention of a princess, the girl's large brown eyes, so like her father's, widened in interest. "Who's she?"

"She was the youngest daughter of King George III. She was very nice and kind. Her father loved her very much, and so did her mother and her brothers and sisters." Gwen paused. Perhaps she shouldn't mention that it was Princess Amelia's death that drove her poor father to madness. "And there's also Amelia Earhart," she said. "She was the first woman to fly across the Atlantic." Again, Gwen paused when she remembered that Ms. Earhart disappeared while trying to fly around the globe. She looked at Michael to see if he'd noticed her bungled attempt to cheer his daughter up. He was still at the table, watching her with an inscrutable expression, just as he had when they first met in the alley. She cleared her throat and returned her attention to Amelia. "Now, can you be kind like Princess Amelia and brave like Amelia Earhart?"

Hesitantly, the little girl nodded. Gwen smiled. "Good. Tell me about Snappy then."

Amelia's little mouth screwed up, and she blinked rapidly, threatening tears again. "He's—m-my croc-crocodile," she hiccupped. "He's gold and has black teeth and he's very scary and he protects me."

"Ah, so that's why he has to stay home then," said Gwen, as if she'd just made a great discovery. "He has to keep it safe for when you and your mum come back."

"Really?"

"Yes. He knows you'll be perfectly safe here with your dad. And"—here Gwen pulled out the teddy from her bag and handed it to Amelia—"in case you're feeling lonely, here's Teddy. He may not be as scary as Snappy, but he can keep you company until you see Snappy again, all right?"

Amelia took the teddy, turned it this way and that, and held it experimentally. Finally, satisfied that the teddy was safe, she hugged it to her chest and smiled at Gwen through her tears.

"Now there's a great big smile," Gwen said, smiling back and giving the girl's nose a little bop.

"My dad always says my smile's as big as Christmas," said Amelia.

"And he's right."

As if on cue, Michael appeared next to them. He nodded at Gwen gratefully and took Amelia into her room.

Gwen was still sitting on the sofa bed when he came out a few minutes later and sat down next to her. "You're really good with her," he said.

"So are you."

"No, I'm not. You heard what she said. She didn't even want to stay with me."

"Michael, she's four," Gwen said. "She's knackered. A four-year-old would say they hate you one minute, then turn around and kiss you the next. That's what they do."

"How do you know?"

Gwen rubbed a hand across her eyes. Amelia wasn't the only one who was tired. Gwen felt like she could lie down and sleep for a thousand years. "I lied earlier," she said. "I do have a kid. Her name's Emma. She's six—no, seven now."

Michael tilted his head, looking at her more closely. "Where is she?"

"She lives with a foster family in Croydon. I haven't seen her in three years." The foster mum sent photos, and Gwen tried to call when she could, but it wasn't the same. "Sometimes I'm afraid she's forgotten me."

"Why can't you see her?"

Gwen didn't answer. It was a wound she wasn't ready to open yet.

Michael went back to the kitchen and fiddled about with the kettle. He came back a moment later with two steaming cups, and handed Gwen one. It reminded her of the tea she used to make for herself as a kid, too sweet and milky for her liking now, but she said nothing. They sat sipping their tea in companionable silence.

"Do you believe some people just can't be loved?" Michael asked.

"What?"

"Some people always seem to end up alone. It's like they can't be loved."

Gwen took a moment to answer. The punters all liked to talk. They would complain to her about their jobs, their wives, their girlfriends, their mothers. She could hear Medusa now, telling her, "We're like trick cyclists, darling"—Medusa was not Cockney, but she'd heard that slang for "psychiatrist" on The Bill or EastEnders and liked to slip it into her talk because she thought it made her sound cool—"except we're cheaper and they get some sex on top of that." So when a customer talked, Gwen would just nod absently and say "Is that so?" while thinking of something else.

Now, having been brought closer by the talk of their kids, she asked Michael, "Why do you think that?"

"Everybody in my life is gone," he said, his voice bleak. "My parents—well, they weren't fit to be parents, really. I lost count of how many foster homes I lived in. None of them wanted me. My brother took me in, but then he moved to Australia with his wife and kids. Maybe it's my fault." His head drooped. "I met someone once. I loved her. Or I thought I did. But I fucked it up. I didn't see what she was going through, and I made it worse."

"Was it Amelia's mum?"

"No." He sighed. "But I fucked it up with her as well. She's too good for me. They're all too good for me."

"Is that why you hired me?" Gwen asked before she could stop herself. Michael turned to her, and the look in his eyes went through her heart like a pin. It was the same look he'd given her when they first met, so lost and vulnerable, the look of a lifetime of hurt and loneliness. Now she understood why she had been so taken by it. It was a look she knew well, for she had seen it plenty of times when she looked into the mirror.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean—"

She shrugged. "It's alright. I'm used to that."

He put a tentative hand over hers and closed his fingers around it. "Thank you, Gwen," he said. "Thank you for being here. Thank you for helping me with Amelia."

"Hey, my pleasure." She grinned. "She's a good kid."

"I was frightened to death when she was born, you know," Michael said. "I didn't know what to do. I still don't. What if I fuck it up like I fuck up everything else in my life?"

Gwen squeezed his hand. Finally she understood his despair earlier, just as she had understood his loneliness; understood it because she saw it in herself.

"Want to know why I went to prison?" she asked. "Why I haven't seen my daughter?"

He looked at her, not with morbid curiosity as most people did when they learned she'd been to prison, but with interest and sympathy. She pulled off her blonde wig, and, turning her head, spread her mousy brown hair over her ear to show him the ragged scar just above it, which the hair couldn't quite cover.

"Her father, my piece-of-shit boyfriend—he gave me that," she said. "And worse. Then one time, he pushed me too hard. I pushed back. He hit his head on the kitchen counter." Her voice trembled. It was the first time she spoke of this in three years. She steadied herself, and continued, "I could've called an ambulance, but I didn't. I just stood there and watched him die. Got me three years for that. Involuntary manslaughter." She lifted her eyes to Michael's face. "Think you can fuck up your kid's life worse than I did?" she asked. She tried to laugh and began to cry.

Michael reached out and drew her to him until she was in his arms with her head on his shoulder, just like how he'd held Amelia. He said nothing, but in his embrace, she could feel her fears quiet down, if not fade away entirely. She thought of Emma, and herself, of Amelia, and Michael, of the frightened child inside all of them, waiting only for someone to reach out and hold them and tell them that it's going to be all right.

She buried her nose in Michael's neck, taking in his scent of soap and sweat and smoke, and let out a breath she had been holding for three years, or perhaps even longer. "This is nice," she said. "I can see why you'd pay for this."

Michael's shoulders and chest rumbled pleasantly with laughter, and Gwen smiled as well.

"Can I see you again?" he asked.

Her smile faltered. Somehow, his question made her sad. It brought her crashing back to reality, a reality in which she would have to go back out on the street soon, back to the cold and the loneliness and the emptiness.

But professional habit won out in the end, and she didn't even sigh as she gave him the answer she'd always used with all her customers, "You know where to find me."

"No, not as Queenie," he said. "I want to see you again as Gwen. And without the wig. Can I?"

She lifted her head to look at him. He didn't let go, only slid his hand up her shoulder and her neck to cradle her cheek. As the warmth of his gaze and the tenderness of his caress enveloped her, Gwen made a decision.

Tomorrow, she would go and buy Emma a Christmas present. And bring it to her in person.

Tomorrow, she would ring that number on the card of the non-profit group.

But today, tonight, she would stop running away.

"Yes," she told Michael. "Yes, you can."

THE END

Yes, "Snappy" is the crocodile that Maria gave to Leah.

And of course, it wouldn't be my fic without a Snow Patrol song to accompany it (the title comes from the first line of lyric):

[thezombieprostitute]

All Your Lovin'

A/N: This is written for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar. I'm using the following prompts:

🍧Cookies and Cream: soulmates – it's a match made in heaven and without one, the other just feels incomplete. Your characters are soulmates, but how their fates align is up to you.

🥄Caramel: drunk/delirious/not in their right mind – one or more of your characters is not thinking straight

A/N2: Character is female. Implied shorter/smaller than Syverson. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Drinking, Implied vomiting. Please let me know if I missed any.

Finding your soulmate should be relatively easy. You sing, they're called to your music, and when you look into each other's eyes, as you sing, you know, and both of you get a matching tattoo on your neck, like magic. Simple, right? Well only if you're okay with singing in public places. And not horribly shy. And able to make eye contact with others. And actually have the ability to sing.

People liked to joke that “soulmates are only for the brave or stupid.” Well, apparently they were also for the drunk. Just about every drinking establishment had a karaoke machine these days. Not that karaoke actually helped. Your singing needed to be heard by your soulmate so they would have to be in the same building, if not the same room as you. Otherwise you'd probably be looking at some “public disturbance” charges for singing too loud outdoors. It's been long established that looking for your soulmate is no excuse for bothering random strangers.

This is the line of reasoning you gave your friends that they promptly ignored before dragging you out for a night of karaoke bars. It was an annual tradition you'd started in college, a variation on a pub crawl. And you weren't going to stop until one of you had found your soulmate.

“And you're not getting out of singing this time,” Jenny tells you.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” you reply, feigning innocence.

“Every time we're the only ones up on stage and singing,” Tina rebuts. “You're going to go on stage at least once tonight, no matter how drunk we have to get you.”

Elena jumps in, “and since I've already met my soulmate, it makes sense that I'm the designated driver tonight.” Everyone giggles at the memory of when Elena's soulmate, Jake, had started singing Journey and Elena literally dropped their drinks to get to him.

“O-okay,” you agree. “But I'm gonna need my phone to look up beginner friendly karaoke songs. I'm gonna need to be at least a little tipsy. And you'll have to help me make sure I only go up after someone who sounds like a beached whale.”

The girls screamed at your acceptance and you let yourself get caught up in their energy.

It's been three bars and you still haven't taken your turn at karaoke. You really don't understand how these people can do it, even if they're drunk. Singing their hearts out, often poorly, and keeping their eyes on the crowd.

Each of your friends, except Elena, have had a go with no luck. You're genuinely rooting for them to meet their soulmates and not entirely because it'll get you out of having to perform. They're keeping their promises and letting you look up potential songs and keeping an ear out for the worst singers.

“Oof, that guy is desperate,” Tina comments on the guy in the suit trying to sing Immigrant Song. Definitely not meant for his vocal range.

“Yeah, you're going up after him,” Jenny informs you. “You'll be a welcome reprieve after that guy.”

You nod and they help you get signed up to follow Mr. Suit. The song selection doesn't have many of the beginner friendly songs you'd seen suggested. Then you spot a song that actually makes you smile: Gimme All Your Lovin' by ZZ Top. The song you loved singing and dancing to when you're in the kitchen. It would be perfect, right? You could just pretend you're in the kitchen singing along, right? You select the song and get ready.

The drums start up, you close your eyes and bob your head to the music, just like at home. Your singing starts and the audience is, thankfully, into it. You do your best to ignore them as you sing. But then the guitar solo hits and you realize you're just on stage with nothing to do. You open your eyes and see all those people staring at you. The panic hits and the alcohol sours in your stomach, forcing you to run off stage, straight to the bathroom.

It doesn't take long for your friends to join you in the bathroom. They're telling you how proud they are of you for taking that step. How you sounded so good. That you're going to be okay.

Elena suggests heading out for some fresh air and you enthusiastically nod, still not able to talk, mind fuzzy from everything that happened.

The outside air is definitely calming. The girls continue to praise your effort and promise you don't have to do any more singing tonight.

You're getting ready to tell them you're okay to move on to the next bar when a voice behind your group says, “excuse me, ladies?” Everyone turns and you see a very large bear of a man with a buzz-cut and dark beard, wearing a Lynrd Skynyrd t-shirt. He's holding his hands up as a gesture of no ill-intent and maintains a respectful distance.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but, uh, I think one of y'all is my soulmate,” he says as he looks directly at you. “Your singing called to me but ya didn't open your eyes until the guitar solo, then ya ran out.”

Jenny eyes him, suspiciously, “you could just be saying that.”

“That I could, Ma'am,” he nods. “But, um, if'n y'all would oblige me, I could sing some Gimme Three Steps? My company'll tell ya I don't mind making a fool o' myself for a lady.”

You keep your head down but give your friends a small nod and they gave him the go-ahead. Sure enough, just a few words into the song you feel the pull of his rough voice singing about a girl named Linda Lou. You look up, into his eyes and feel a spot on your neck getting warm. Your friends gasp and start cheering, spotting the matching tattoos you now have.

He stops singing as you walk up and take his hand, introducing yourself. “I'm Sy,” he offers, a tinge of pink in his cheeks making him look more like a cuddly teddy bear than the giant of a man he is. You giggle at the thought and he breaks out into a smile, visibly relaxing. “I'm out here with some of the guys from my platoon, if y'all would like to join us? Or if we can join you? I'm sure you're not up for leavin' us alone together just yet.”

“We're actually doing a karaoke bar crawl,” you tell him. You look back at your friends, “is it okay if they join us?”

“So long as I'm not the only non-drinker,” Elena nods. “I can barely handle you girls, let alone you girls and a bunch of military men.”

“No worries, Ma'am,” Sy nods. He points back to where his friends are, “Rogers has us covered. Any one of us gets too much, he pulls rank, doesn't pull punches, and gets us in line.”

The entire time he's talking, you find you can't look away. Your soulmate is large, handsome, polite. Your usual problems with eye contact don't seem to show up with him. Probably because the part of you that knows he's your soulmate also knows he will never hurt you in any way. He makes you feel safe in a way you didn't know you could. The way he smiles at you, with a glint in his eyes, makes you feel very hopeful about all of this.

Tags: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[capturethechaos]

Masterlist

Request - doing a pub crawl and trying different drinks | “Stay still, or I’ll have you warming daddy’s cock all night long.” / “That’s a good girl.”

Words - 7.4k

Warnings - Drinking, NSFW 18+ Content, Fingering, Unprotected sex [Wrap it before you tap it folks!] ♡

A/n - Had to alter the dialog prompt just a tad to get it to fit better with the dialog and situation, hope you like it. Also huge fucking thank you to Sam for helping me out so much when I was dealing with a major bout of writers block ♡

Walking into the first bar of the night, you, Jake, and Danny were all prepared to drink the night away. Rules were laid out before the night began, and as the three of you made your way to the bar, the rules were as follows;

1. Truth or drink; at any point during the night, a player may choose one other player to ask a question. The player asking the question must state 'truth or drink' before asking their question. The player being asked the question must do exactly as the name implies, answer the question, or drink.

2. No first names; simple, you cannot say the first name of any other players, if you say someone's first name, you drink.

3. I am the captain now; the first player to declare themselves so, becomes the captain for the remainder of the time at that bar, anyone that looks at the captain must take a shot.

“What can I get for you three tonight?”

“Three tequila sodas, and three shots of tequila as well.”

You turned to your right, an eyebrow raised as he finished ordering. “Are you trying to kill me, Jake?”

You could hear Danny chuckle behind you,  and watched as Jake broke out in a grin. “Of course not, just had an inkling that you were going to break the rule pretty quick.”

The moment the drinks arrived, you lifted the shot glass to your lips, shooting daggers at Jake for a moment before downing the shot. One of the many things you were thankful for in your relationship with the boys, was the fact that tequila was a staple for nights out and parties, so as the liquid ran down your throat, you had little to no reaction to it. 

You had the wedge of lime between your teeth as you spun to face Danny, earning a curious look from him. You removed the lime from your mouth, and dropped it in the empty shot glass before locking eyes with him. “Truth or drink, Wagner. Where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”

He smiled and nodded a bit before looking off to think about it for a moment. “Behind the counter at work.”

“At our work?” You watched as a blush rose to his cheeks, and he nodded. “Dude, that's gross, I work behind that counter.”

A small smirk emerged, hidden just enough by his grin that no one would be the wiser, but you were all too familiar with that smirk of his, and he knew it too. There was a sudden weight on your shoulder, and above the music, a voice broke through. “Hey, you two. I am the captain now.”

Danny’s eyes left yours, instinctually looking over at Jake as he spoke, and letting out a groan how quickly he managed to lose. The two of you watched as Danny lifted his shot from the counter, holding it up to you before pouring the tequila into his mouth, and you could feel the breath leave Jake's lips as he spoke in a low whisper. “It would be easier for you to get it over with now, don’t you think.”

“No chance, Jake.”

“Oh come on, Y/n, you’ve already got to do one for saying my name, might as well look at me and make it two.” You could practically hear the cocky grin on his face, and you rolled your eyes before turning to wave the bartender over. 

“Three shots of tequila please.”

His chuckle echoed through your head, and your lips turned up into a smirk as the shots were slid in front of you, and Jake spoke up once again. “Three shots? Getting one to soothe the loss?”

It was your turn to laugh as you pulled one shot towards yourself. “Oh I have no intention of taking all of these.” You slid the second shot towards Jake, and kept your eyes on the two shots ahead of you. 

“You see, this one is for saying your name.” You lifted your first shot, drinking down the tequila as quickly as you could before placing the lime wedge in your mouth and sucking.

“This one is for looking at you.” Jake was wearing a victorious grin when you turned to him, and a confused brow at the cocky smirk on your own face. “But only because I couldn’t resist seeing the look on your face when you realize that this third shot is for you.”

His smile faltered as he recounted the last few minutes of conversation, and you could see the moment it clicked in his head. “I said your name…”

The smirk on your face turned to a full smile as he slowly reached to take the shot. You lifted your own, holding it out for him to tap his glass against. “You did. Now, what is it that Josh says, bajabule?”

He sighed, and the soft clink of your shot glasses could be heard by only the three of you. “Bajabule.”

Rules for the second bar were decided upon on the walk over, ‘truth or drink’ remained, and two more were added;

1. Nose master; the master is chosen upon the arrival at the bar via a game of rock, paper, scissors, the winner is the nose master. As the master you can put your finger to your nose at any time while at the bar. If you see the master with their finger on their nose, you do it too, the last person to notice has to drink. The loser then becomes the nose master.

2. All drinks must be held with the players 'weaker' hand, meaning if they are right handed, they must only lift their drinks with their left hand, and vice versa. If you are caught with your drink in your dominant hand, you drink. 

You had won the game, somehow getting lucky enough to play rock as both Jake and Danny played scissors. 

The three of you made yourselves comfortable in a booth near the back of the pub, chatting and sipping away at your drinks as the music, which you all agreed was mediocre, played on in the background. 

It took less than half an hour before Jake was on the verge of pissing himself, having avoided going to the bathroom for pretty much the entire time you had been out. He made a comment about getting another round of drinks for all of you on his way back before making a b-line for the bathroom. You and Danny thanked him, and fell into a comfortable silence, during which he pulled out the nearly empty water bottle from your bag, and you watched as he tipped his head back, drinking what was left of the liquid and leaving his neck and jaw completely exposed to you. 

You tried (barely) to contain yourself, but your body moved faster than your thoughts, and before you knew what you were doing, your lips were pressed to the curve of his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin. He choked a bit on the water as you leaned back into the cushioning of the booth, looking ahead of you with a crimson blush heating up your cheeks. When you finally looked over at him, he was already staring back at you, an eyebrow raised and that same miniscule smirk you had seen earlier peeking through once again. “Sorry… couldn’t help myself.”

He placed the water bottle back on the seat next to him, and lifted his now free hand to lift your chin, forcing your gaze to lock with his. “No need to apologize, Y/n.”

His stare was deep, as if he were searching through your every thought. You took that as an opportunity to gently place your hand on his thigh, letting your fingers splay as you trailed your touch against the now tense muscle beneath them. You watched as his eyes quickly flickered down to your hand before locking with your own once again, a mild look of warning crossing his face. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol flowing through you, or the muscle memory taking over, but your hand continued to brush along his leg, your fingers just barely slipping beneath the hem of his shorts before his fingers wrapped around your wrist, and his jaw clenched. 

“Watch it, sweetheart, or when I get you alone I’ll have you warming daddy’s cock all night long.” Danny watched as a look of minor shock crossed your face, and your hand went limp in his grasp. His fingers released your wrist from their hold, and you slowly pulled your hand back into your lap. “That’s a good girl.”

Danny’s eyes wandered to his drink, and yours scanned the bar, only to find Jake leaning against the bar with a knowing smirk on his face as he stared back at your flustered appearance. You watched as he slowly lifted his finger to his nose, tapping it gently before looking over at Danny. Your gaze followed his, finding Danny staring down at his phone. When you looked back up, Jake was walking over with your drinks, and you lifted your hand, placing your finger on your nose. Jake followed close behind, placing one of the drinks on the table before placing his finger on his nose and setting down the other two drinks. 

Danny’s eyes lifted from his phone when he heard the clink of the glasses on the wooden table, immediately seeing both you and Jake with your fingers on your noses. “Motherfuckers…” 

He reached for his drink, and took a large swig, shooting daggers at the two of you the entire time. There was a moment of quiet between the three of you, but as you reached for your drink, you could feel both of their eyes on you… more specifically, on the hand that was reaching for the glass. You realized just before your fingers touched the glass that it was your dominant hand, and quickly pulled it back, switching it for your weaker hand and lifting the glass. “You two are like fucking vultures.”

The third bar was louder than the last, and had more people, so as Danny led the way, Jake remained as closely behind you as he could. You were going over the rules for the bar in your head in a desperate attempt to remember what you could and couldn’t do. On the walk over the three of you decided on these.

1. Nose master; continuing the original rules, the last person to become nose master at the previous bar remains the nose master until their round is played, then the player that drinks becomes the master.

2. Staring contest; if any player catches the gaze of another player, a staring contest begins. The first player to blink, or break the eye contact loses, and must finish their drink

3. Truth or drink; the rules remain mostly the same as the last two bars, with one change, if you choose not to answer the question, instead of taking a drink, you must finish whatever you have in your glass.

The issue with losing yourself in your thoughts, especially when intoxicated, is the lack of spatial awareness. So when Danny stopped at the bar, it took Jake’s arm wrapping around you to stop you from running directly into him. Instead you were pulled against Jake as someone tried to squeeze between you and Danny, and someone else bumped into Jake’s back. Your body turned slightly, as did your head, and you locked eyes with Jake. The moment it clicked for the both of you that you were now locked into one of the rules of the game, a smirk formed on his lips. 

You knew all too well what Jake was like when he got drunk. Buried deep in your subconscious was a collection of memories; like the way his voice slowly lowered until it was raspy and addictive to the ear, or how his touch would tread the line between friendly and flirty, lingering just a beat too long to forget about, and his eyes… his deep brown eyes, the way they became almost drowsy, no matter how much energy remained in his body, and he would stare at you, giving you his full attention as you spoke.

It was the same stare you were locked into at that moment, fighting to keep yourself from looking away as a blush warmed your skin at the contact of his hand on your waist. You refused to be the one to break, and it seemed Jake had the same determination, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his hand slid along your side until it came to rest at your hip, his finger hooking into the belt loop on your shorts. “Hi.”

A smile grew on your lips, and just above the music Jake could hear your voice. “Hi.”

The two of you stood there in silence for a few seconds before you spoke up again. “Wanna make this a double drinking game?”

“How so?”

“Truth or drink?”

He smiled, keeping his eyes trained on yours as he nodded his head. “Ask away.”

Your smile widened, and you took a second to think about a question. “Is there a sex scene from a movie or tv show that you have wanted to recreate?”

He smirked, nodding once again. “Of course.”

“Well.” You quirked an eyebrow at him. “What movie?”

You could feel the hand he had on your hip shift a bit as he continued to stare at you. “Have you seen ‘Sleeping with Other People’?” 

“Yes?” The word was drawn out as it flowed from you.

“Then you know what happens in the movie.”

“Well, yeah, but there’s quite a few sex scenes in that movie.”

“There is, and I’ll leave it up to that dirty little imagination of yours to wonder which one I’d want to recreate.” The smirk on his face was cocky as he teased you, and his fingers played with the hem of your tee shirt. 

“Are you two just going to stand there all night, or can we find a spot to sit down?” There was a hint of something in Danny’s tone as he spoke, and it seemed he wasn’t pleased at that moment. 

“Well, Danny.” Jake started, giving you a quick smile before turning his gaze to Danny. “Y/n and I were in the middle of a fairly intense staring contest, which I have now lost. So why don’t you two go find a table, and I will go get myself a shot.”

You could feel Danny’s eyes on you from the moment the two of you turned to find somewhere to sit. His hand found the small of your back as you made your way through the crowd. You came to a halt at a small bar table, and Danny pulled a seat out for you, waiting until you were sitting on the tall stool before pushing it toward the table. His grip remained on the edge of the chair, his thumbs brushing against the outside of your thighs as he leaned closer to you. “Truth or drink. Is there anyone in this bar that you would sleep with at this very moment.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled from you, and you kept your eyes on the drink in front of you. Slowly, you lifted the cup to your lips, your bottom lip meeting the cool glass as you spoke. “No comment.”

But Danny caught the flicker of your eyes.

He saw your gaze lock on Jake as he collected the drinks he had been served and thanked the bartender.

As Danny distanced himself from you, he realized that you had finished all the liquid in your glass, and your attention turned to him briefly before being interrupted by Jake's reappearance. A smile appeared on your face as he placed his drinks, and a few extra, on the table. “Welcome back, hey, keep Danny company for a few. I’m gonna go pee and get another drink.”

“Don’t worry about the drink, I got…” He turned, watching as you walked away, paying no mind to the words he was speaking. “Extras…”

Danny and Jake both sat on their respective stools, switching between staring at the other people in the bar, or staring at their glasses, in silence either way. Until Jake finally sighed, and spoke up. “So… how are you feeling about all this?”

Jake awaited a response for a few beats, and all he got in return was a very confused look on Danny’s face. “Y/n is being quite flirty tonight, I figured you’d be feeling something considering the two of you have a… thing.”

The confusion dropped from Danny’s face. “We don’t have a thing…” He watched the look on Jake’s face change, and he could practically hear his voice in his head saying ‘you’re really gonna lie to me now?’

“Okay, we’ve been sleeping together for a little while.” Danny bit his tongue in an effort not to overshare, but the look on Jake’s face urged him to continue. “But we’re not exclusive, and we haven’t discussed it in a while.”

Jake hummed, his focus drifting momentarily as he tried to work out a response to Danny, who sat opposite to him, chewing the inside of his lip. “Okay… so I guess my question to you is this. Are you comfortable having her sleep with your friend? If not, I won’t touch the subject.”

Jake paused for a moment, letting Danny process what he was saying as he took a sip of his drink. “Alternatively, she had mentioned something in passing while you were off taking a piss on our way to this bar, might be more in your ballpark.”

Danny’s curiosity perked up, and as you sat at the bar ordering your drink, he listened to Jake's proposition. When you turned away from the bar, you were startled to see Danny standing directly behind you, already staring at you. Your whole body flinched, causing a large drop of your drink to fall from the glass onto the floor. “Fuck, Danny! You scared the shit out of me.”

He chuckled, his hands lifting to your elbows to help you stabilize yourself. “Sorry… uh… is it true that you’ve been dreaming about me and Jake?”

He watched the blood rush to your face and chest, painting you in a crimson hue, and when you attempted to avoid his gaze, two of his fingers lifted to your chin, holding you to look him in the eyes. You slowly nodded your head, chewing on your lip as he continued to stare at you, licking his own lips as they turned up into a small smirk. “At the same time?”

You nodded again, stuck watching as he gazed at you with a look that you couldn’t quite read. 

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” When all you did was nod at him again, he lifted his thumb to your lips, slowly dragging it down, pulling your bottom lip down with it. Your eyelids had fluttered shut, and a small sigh fell from your lips as he used his other hand to pull you closer to him. “Use your words.”

“Yes, Danny.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you opened your eyes, your gaze quickly locking with Danny’s. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

Jake was already searching for an Uber for the three of you as you and Danny returned to the table, and the tension suddenly felt more present. As you stood in the open space next to Jake’s chair, each of you finishing the drinks you had left while you awaited the arrival of your ride, you could feel Jake’s fingers ghosting over the back of your legs, causing trails of goosebumps to rise in their path. 

The car ride to your apartment was equal parts better and worse. You got more impatient the longer you felt Jake's fingers gently grasping at the flesh of your thigh, or the way Danny’s fingers danced with your own. 

Twenty minutes had never felt so long. 

Danny could only watch you fumble with your keys for so long before he gently coaxed them from your hand, unlocking the door and opening it for you to walk in ahead of him. Both Danny and Jake had been in your apartment before, but you could see the difference in their comfort levels. As Danny casually kicked off his shoes and sauntered into the kitchen, Jake slowly closed the door behind him, sliding off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket. You sat on the bench next to your front door and bent down to untie your shoes. The movement pressed your belt into your stomach, pulling a hushed hiss from you that Jake just barely heard over the loud proclamation Danny called out when he found your cat, Samson. 

As you fought with the tangled knot of your shoe, you noticed a pair of feet stop a few inches from your own, and as you looked up at Jake, he kneeled down. When your eyes met with his own, his lips curled into a warm smile, and he quickly looked down, untying the knots in your laces and pulling the shoes from your feet. Only once they were both off and placed to the side did Jake look back up at you. 

Your eyes followed him as he lifted from his kneeling position in front of you. As he looked down at you, he gently placed his hands on your cheeks and leaned down until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. “You really are beautiful, have I ever told you that?”

Slowly, you shook your head, and your lips parted just enough for a single word to escape. “Jake.”

His lips turned from his usual grin to a pleased smirk as he noticed the change in your breathing. “Yes, Y/n?”

“Kiss me.”

His smirk deepened, and he closed the distance between you, stopping when his lips brushed your own. “Since you asked so nicely.”

You were never sure what it would be like to kiss Jake, but you were pleasantly surprised, as his lips connected with yours, that his kiss mirrored his warm disposition. You couldn’t help but melt into him, letting his hands do the work of keeping your head up. 

There was no air left in your lungs when he pulled away, leaving you breathless as he straightened himself out. He didn’t look much different from you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took. Jake helped you up off of the bench, and kept his hand wrapped around your own as he led you toward your bedroom. 

Your eyes drifted around the corner as you passed the kitchen, watching for a moment as Danny continued to stand in front of your fridge petting Samson, who was lounging in his bed at the top, before attention was pulled back to Jake, who had gently tugged on your hand. 

Jake made his way into your room, turning to you as your hand slipped from his, and he quickly raised a curious brow at the mischievous look on your face. You made a slight shooing motion with one hand, and the other reached for your doorknob. “You’re welcome to sit on my bed, I’ll join you in a minute.”

He continued to give you a questioning look as he shuffled over to your bed, and as you turned your back to him, he made himself comfortable leaning back against the headboard. He watched as you poked your head through the now narrow crack between your bedroom door and its frame. “Oh Danny, better get here quick before Jake gets me all to himself in here.”

You could hear Danny turn and begin walking toward your room, waiting until he turned the corner and locked his eyes on you to shoot him a quick wink and close the door behind you, locking it before he had the chance to stop you. 

The doorknob turned as you stepped further into your bedroom, slipping into your closet and quickly stripping out of the clothes you had been wearing all night, changing instead into an oversized tee shirt. When the door didn’t open, you could hear Danny groan. “Come on, Y/n. Open the door.”

You turned briefly to Jake, a wicked grin on your lips for only a moment before you turned back to the door, unlocking it and putting on your most innocent expression as you opened it. Danny stood on the other side of the door, already staring at the spot he was expecting you to be in, and you watched as his eyebrow cocked at your change of appearance. “Hiya, Danny. Funny seeing you here.”

Danny’s jaw clenched, but you watched his lips curl into a grin as wicked as the one you had shown Jake. He stepped forward, quickly lifting you off of the ground and taking a few steps into the bedroom before tossing you onto your bed. “Fair warning, Jake…” You could feel the dip in the mattress as you sat up, not from your own weight, but from Danny shuffling up behind you. “She can be a bit of a brat sometimes.”

Jake was already looking back at you when your eyes lifted to look at him, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Is that so?”

You could feel the heat of Danny’s breath as his lips ghosted along your shoulder, and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding at Jake as Danny’s lips trailed to the spot behind your ear, kissing the spot that always makes your spine tingle. “You wanna prove you can listen, sweetheart?”

When all you do in response is nod again, you feel his teeth nip lightly at your skin. “Use your words.”

“Yes, Danny.” He can’t see the playful roll of your eyes, but Jake catches it, and does the same. “Let me prove I can listen.”

His hands teased at the hem of your tee shirt, running along the curve of your hips, lifting the fabric until he could feel the lace of your bra, then dropping it. He did this repeatedly until you finally let out an impatient sigh. “Just take it off, Danny.”

His movements stopped, leaving his hands resting on your hips. “Why should I?”

You knew what he was looking for, all he wanted was for you to say please, to ‘make it sound pretty’ as he had said during one of your past hookups. Your eyes were locked on Jake’s, and he watched as the wicked little smirk returned to your lips. “Because I really want to show Jakey my lingerie, I know he’s got a thing for it.”

Danny’s hands twitched against your skin, tightening for a moment. “Can you ask nicely?”

“Please, Danny.” You leaned back, resting against his chest and tilting your head back until your lips were against the shell of his ear. “Take off my shirt so that Jake can stare at my tits.”

“Can I do more than stare?”

Both your eyes, and Danny’s drifted to Jake, somewhat awkwardly sitting at the head of your bed, rubbing his hands over his jean covered thighs. You broke into a grin and straightened yourself out. “Depends… will you take my shirt off? ‘Cause it doesn’t seem like Danny wants to.”

Jake's eyes flickered away from yours for only a moment, but when he looked back at you, you felt Danny tug on the fabric of your shirt, lifting it up until you had to raise your arms to assist in its removal. 

A low whistle came from Jake’s lips as you dropped your hands back to your sides. He held out a hand to you, and watched as you shuffled forward, placing your hand in his. The smile on his face was contagious as he studied all that had been revealed to him. You could feel Danny’s hands drop from your hips as you moved closer to Jake, and as soon as you were close enough, you leaned forward to brush your lips against the shell of his ear. “You remember what I asked you earlier, Jake?”

You pulled away just enough to see his adam's apple bob and his lips parted. “The uh… the movie thing?”

You nodded, and lifted your hand to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm. “You gonna show me which scene it is now?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and simply stared at you in awe for a moment before nodding. “Gonna need you to turn around for me, gorgeous.”

Your eyes remained on him as you slowly turned away from him, and he slid off the bed, already fumbling with the button of his jeans. Once they were on the floor, he kneeled on the bed, shuffling himself behind you. Your eyes had drifted to Danny, and he watched as your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of Jake's hands ghosting up your arms. He brushed the hair from your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck before brushing them up your throat, stopping when he could feel the delicate skin of your ear beneath his lips. “Hands and knees.”

Your chest was rapidly rising and falling with every desperate breath, and he had barely even touched you. Slowly, you leaned forward, planting your hands a few inches from where Danny was sitting, glancing up at him as Jake’s hands found your hips. You were dragged back a bit, a small gasp falling from between your lips as your ass came in contact with the cotton of his boxers. He was hard, and the two layers of fabric between you left very little to the imagination. 

One of Jake's hands drifted from your hip, running over the swell of your ass before dipping between your thighs. A low hum rumbled from his chest as he ran his fingers along your lace covered slit, feeling the build up of arousal that the two of them had caused. “So wet already, doll, and we’ve barely even touched you.”

His middle finger hooked around the lace, slipping them to the side and sweeping his knuckle over the newly bare skin. The subtle touch alone had small whimpers falling from you. Slowly, you felt the tips of his middle and ring fingers teasing at your entrance. He made sure the digits were completely coated in your slick before slipping them forward, taunting you with their barely-there touch over your clit. 

Your head lifted, and with it your eyes drifted up to Danny’s face. He was already looking down at you, a pleased little grin adorning his face. The movement caught Jake’s attention, and as you and Danny locked eyes, Jake moved his fingers, beginning to slowly sink them into you, causing you to lurch forward and reach for Danny with one of your hands. 

The rhythm Jake had chosen was addictive, drawing you closer as one hand gripped the sheets, and the other found purchase on Danny’s thigh. Danny lifted a hand to your face, his palm against your cheek as his other hand wrapped around your own. You watched as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, using his hand to drag yours over his fabric covered cock. 

You were treading the line, getting closer and closer to release with every sweep of Jake’s fingers inside of you, and he could tell. “Squeezing me so tight, baby. You getting close?”

You kept your eyes on Danny as you slowly nodded. “Yes, Jake… so fucking close.”

His fingers slipped out of you, earning a disappointed groan from you. You turned as best as you could, watching as the hand Jake had been using to pleasure you, was pulling at the band of his boxers, lowering them just enough for him to pull his cock out. He caught you staring, and a cocky grin overtook his lips, watching as you chewed on your bottom lip. 

It was divine, the breathy moan that cascaded from Jake’s lips as he ran the tip of his cock along your slit, coating himself in you. He could feel the buck of your hips as he teased the tip over your clit, before trailing it up to your entrance. The pressure of him pushing just the tip into you was driving you crazy, and desperately you turned to him, giving him your most pleading expression. “Please, Jake. I want it all, fuck me… please.”

He was bigger than you expected. No matter how many of his exes you had talked to, or how many nights you couldn’t help but imagine it, none of that compared to the exquisite stretch you felt as he inched his cock into you. 

“Fuck, Jake. Feels so good.” Both of your hands tightened their grip as you moaned at the feeling of Jake fully pressed into you, his hips brushing the skin of your ass. You could hear the quiet huff that Danny released, and quickly realized that your hand was still pressed against his confined erection. 

Jake began to slowly pull himself out, inching away from you until only the head of his cock remained inside, before thrusting back into you, slowly beginning to build a rhythm. “I know, baby. You feel fucking phenomenal.”

Your focus was divided, feeling the electric pleasure shooting through you as Jake fucked you, and palming Danny over his shorts, watching as his eyes were borderline closed, remaining only open enough to watch your face twist in pleasure. Your hand moved, drifting to the button of Danny’s shorts and popping it open before slowly dragging the zipper down, revealing the soft, black fabric of his boxers. 

Your own movements distracted you from Jake’s, and as you went to dip your hand into Danny’s boxers, Jake's arm wrapped around your torso. He pulled you from the mattress, pressing your back into his chest as he continued to rock his hips into yours. Danny was wearing a pleasantly surprised expression when he looked up at you, stretched against Jake's body as the hand he had used to lift you gripped your hip, and the other trailed at an excruciatingly slow pace up your body. 

Your eyes were still on Danny, watching as he sat there with his pants unbuttoned, still fully clothed, staring at you. “Danny.”

His smile widened at the sound of your already fucked out voice saying his name. “Yes, sweetheart?”

Despite the situation you were in, Danny's use of the soft nickname brought a warm blush to your chest and face. “Can you take off your shirt please?”

He chuckled lightly at the polite request, but quickly reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it onto the floor of your bedroom. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of him. The hooks of your bralette were undone by Jake as your attention remained on Danny, but Danny caught the movement, he watched as Jake gently pushed the straps from over your shoulders and pulled the small article of clothing from your warm skin. 

A particularly hard thrust from Jake had your head lulling back onto his shoulder, his name tumbling from your lips in a breathy gasp. The tingle of his touch traveled from between your tits until his palm rested against the skin of your throat, his fingers pressing lightly against your jaw to keep your head back as his lips brushed against your ear. “Danny looks like he wants to devour you, baby.”

You can't help the giggle that bubbles from you. “Let him. He knows I love the feeling of his mouth on my body.”

The feeling of Danny's tongue running in the valley between your breasts drew a long moan from you. Your body leaned into the warmth of his mouth on you, kissing across the tops of each breast before wrapping his lips around one nipple, and toying with the other between his fingers. Your hands reached for each of the men attached to you, one stretching behind you to entangle your fingers in Jake's hair, as the other roamed Danny’s torso, finally teasing past the band of his boxers and feeling the weight of his cock in your palm. 

“You remember this part of the movie, gorgeous?” His voice was teasing as he slowed his thrusts, putting purpose behind each roll of his hips. 

“Don’t think it went exactly like this, Jake.”

You could feel the rumble of his chest as he chuckled, and his grip on your hip tightened for a moment. “Well, there’s alway room for improvement, right?”

“Agreed.”

“There is one thing though…” The hand he had resting on your hip swept across your navel, his middle and ring fingers ghosting over your clit as his words drifted from his lips directly into your ear. “What was it that she said in that scene?”

You let out a breathy laugh at that, and as you felt the pressure of his fingers against your clit, you tilted your head, leaving only millimeters between your lips and Jakes. “Be rude to it.”

His hips stuttered as the words left your lips, and even Danny bucked into your hand, but you had no time to revel in the feeling before Jake's fingers began to work at the bundle of nerves between your legs. 

It was overwhelming, the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through your body at the touch of these men. You lost yourself in the feeling as you gave into your orgasm. You were no longer holding yourself up, instead being held up by Jake's grasp around your hip, and Danny’s head on your chest. 

Jake’s hips slowed, but never stopped as he worked you through the high, and both hands moved to support your hips. His head dropped to your shoulder, peppering kisses along your shoulder. “I’m so close, where… uh… where do you want me?”

You giggled, a bright sound to break the moaning and breathing that had overtaken the room. Both of your hands moved to Danny’s shoulders to hold yourself up. “Danny, can you scooch back for me please.”

Danny nodded, moving back enough for you to arch your back, and you simply turned to look at Jake. “Make a mess of me, Jake.”

You watched as his eyes rolled back, and his bottom lip was drawn between his teeth as he slowly pulled himself out of you. It was a bit straining on your neck, but you couldn’t look away as he ran his hand along his cock, setting a pace that had him painting your lower back with his cum within a few moments. You hummed at the feeling, leaning your weight on Danny as Jake fell back against your headboard, his chest heaving as he came down. 

You turned, looking at Danny with a soft, fucked out smile, and found that he was already looking at you. He kept one hand on your waist, helping to hold you up as the other lifted to your face, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. 

The little moment you were sharing was interrupted when you felt a piece of cloth against your back, and the two of you turned your attention to Jake, who had picked up the ratty tee shirt you had been wearing off of the floor to wipe his cum from your skin. He had put his jeans back on, and when he finished cleaning you off, he tossed the shirt into your hamper. “I think I’m gonna… head out.”

His words had you fully turning to look at him. “Oh? You can stay, you know? You don't have to leave.”

He smiled, stepping forward to press a kiss to your cheek. “No, I should go. I had fun.” When he stepped away, he tripped over Danny’s shirt, but caught himself, stumbling backward towards the door. “I feel like whatever is about to happen would be better left between just the two of you.”

You and Danny turned to look at each other, and though he remained staring at you, you turned back to Jake after a moment. “Okay… um. Well, if you’re hungry, you’re more than welcome to take a slice of leftover pizza from my fridge on your way out.”

He chuckled, walking through the door frame and out into the hallway. “Thanks, Y/n. I’ll see you guys later.”

You and Danny sat in silence staring at each other, listening to Jake as he walked to the kitchen, took a slice of pizza, and said a brief goodbye to Samson before leaving the apartment. When the sound of the door closing echoed through the apartment, you fell back onto your mattress, turning to look at Danny with a smirk on your lips. “Why are you still wearing pants?”

If you could listen to his laugh for the rest of your life, you would. Danny slid off of your bed, shedding the remainder of his clothing before crawling back onto your bed, and on top of you. The two of you simply stared at each other for a minute, as he slowly lowered himself until his nose was brushing against yours. “Hi.”

The smirk on your lips turned to a full fledged smile. “Hi.”

“So uh… I don’t want to kill the mood, but can we talk real quick?”

“Of course, Danny, what’s up?”

He rolled off of you, landing next to you with a small bounce. “I… um… god, I don’t know how to word this.”

You watched for a while as he floundered, trying to find the right words, before you butt in. “I want that too, Danny.”

He turned to you, with the look of a deer caught in the headlights, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally speaking. “Really, but… tonight, with Jake.”

You rolled over, entangling one of your legs with his and splaying your hand over his chest. “Tonight was fun, but it’s not what I want. I want you, Danny.”

“Really?”

You giggled, nodding at him. “Of course, I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same.”

Danny’s smile could light up any darkness you could find yourself in, and he wrapped his hand over the one you had on his chest, pulling it up until his lips pressed against your knuckles. “I have felt the same for longer than I can remember.”

His hand loosened from around yours, and you placed your hand against his cheek, watching as he turned to press a kiss to your palm as his hand trailed along your body, wrapping around the thigh you had thrown over his, and tugging it, pulling you fully on top of him. The sudden movement drew a gasp from your lips, and you watched as his expression turned mischievous. You could feel his erection between you, and slowly rolled your hips over his, effectively coating the length of his cock in your arousal. 

“Not gonna last long, sweetheart, I’ve been worked up all night because of you.” His voice was strained, holding back a moan as you continued to rock your hips against him. 

You snuck your free hand to the space between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around his length and lining him up, slowly sinking down on his length and listening to the divine, drawn out moan that came from him as all the pent up tension between the two of you finally came to a head.

To his credit, he lasted longer than either of you thought he would. The both of you were so worked up, and your last orgasm had left you sensitive, so it was no surprise that when your second of the evening rolled through you, Danny was close behind. He released all that he had into you, easing into the mattress beneath him as you relaxed on his chest, both of you remaining in a comfortable silence as you slowly caught your breath.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to get up?”

He chuckled, running his fingers up and down your spine for a couple minutes before responding. “I don’t either, but we should probably clean up before we both pass out.”

“Agreed.”

Neither of you moved, remaining curled up together for another ten-ish minutes before you finally groaned and conceited, sliding off of Danny, and the bed. “Come on, let’s do this. I wanna get cuddled up and go to sleep.”

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[avnillae]

[teo]

You wiped away at the bile that had pooled from your lips, Jesus Christ, it didn’t take long.

You hastily plucked yourself from the lawn and hoisted your body to the cold sidewalk before gingerly setting yourself onto the curb.

You can’t keep doing this.

“Aw, come on, you’re no good at having any fun !” The jeers and snickers following behind you tauntingly.

You shut your eyes and rubbed at your temples in an attempt to alleviate the spinning. Lifting the other arm, you raised your middle finger in response, earning more chuckles from the group.

An arm wrapped around your neck pulling you in closer to the source of your ridicule, “The night’s still young, don’t tell me you’re chickening out on me already, doll.” His hot breath tinged with the scent of booze and mint gum lingered against your flushed ear.

“You wish.” You pushed away, earning an ‘ooh’ from the others behind you two.

“Atta(girl/boy) ! That’s the spirit, let’s go,” He peeled you off the pavement and onto your feet.

“We still have so many other places to be!”

You trudged alongside the group, eventually finding yourself in some random club, the air stricken with the scent of liquor and warm with the heat of continuous swaying bodies.

It was always the club, the bar, a pub, a friend of a friend’s house, maybe a kickback or bonfire, whatever nightly routine it was.

Every night was the same, a repeat of the last.

More and more bleak each weekend.

—

“Ew !” an exaggerated bellow of disgust began,

“Teo ?? No way, what ?? Seriously ??”

You mentally scolded yourself for even bringing it up to Moth in the first place.

“I know.”

“Eww… Well… does he live up to his reputation ?”

You snorted, swiveling around your chair covering your flushed face.

You can’t believe you’re even admitting this.

“Someone’s curious, why not try him out yourself ?” You teased, Moth gagged.

“Ya right, I’m lonely but not that lonely.”

You gasped, “Rude !”

“I’m just saying.. if he’s really as awful as you make him out to be.”

You finally stopped your spinning to lean back in your chair, with closed eyes and a deep breath you finally brought your microphone close to your lips,

“All I’ll say is..”

—

It was rare to see him in class, if ever.

You felt his large hand snake it’s way to your thigh, your breath hitched and you snapped your attention to him with a pointed glare.

Seemingly oblivious or otherwise unbothered, his gaze was fixed to the phone in his hand.

You opened your mouth to protest, but felt his hand knead your inner thigh causing your face to burn hotter than before, you choked back your words.

You tore your attention away from him and quickly scanned the area to see if anyone around had taken notice.

Unless others were feigning ignorance, his actions had gone unnoticed.

Deciding to just ignore him and focus on the lecture, his hand was unrelenting, creeping ever so close

It wasn’t until his hand brushed against the opening of your pants that you froze.

With bated breath, debating whether or not to let him continue, you indulged. hesitantly spreading your legs a little wider to allow him access.

Wasting no time, his fingers slipped through your zipper, rubbing against your clothed sex.

Haphazardly following along with the lecture

You grabbed his wrist with your free hand, pinning him in place before rocking slowly on his fingers.

Almost.

His fingers writhed inside of you, you sighed and huffed, trying your best to resist the moans crawling out your mouth.

‘Trying’, feebly.

A loud gasp accompanied your wave of arousal, you fought against the twitching of your undoing and quickly cupped your hand over your mouth in an attempt to conceal any other explicit noises escaping.

Heads turned and eyes peering, you felt the blood creeping from your neck to your ears, you cleared your throat and awkwardly returned to your studies after mumbling a small sorry.

Sneaking a glance to the man beside you, all you could see was the smug grin plastered on his face as he continued to scroll on his cell phone.

—

“You know you could have anyone.” He remarked with a shit eating grin, leaning back into his seat with bleary eyes.

He knew just the words to butter you up.

“You and I both know you don’t really believe that.” You huffed, tilting your head and downing another glass.

This was how it always went.

And like always, you were ruined.

Hastily undressing one another in the backseat of his car, your head was swimming. His hands grazed against your bruised thighs from the nights prior, you let out a small wince at the contact.

It was like this nights repeating.

Hushed breathing fogging up the windows and the harsh winter air threatening to spill in, you pulled him closer to your body.

Exchanging body heat in a back seat with a man you could hardly stand or stomach.

You knew it wouldn’t last, and it wouldn’t be anything serious.

The next day you’d both act like nothing happened.

Maybe that’s why it was easier to be with him.

There was no room for confusion. Almost like an unspoken agreement between you two.

You bit back the urge to comment on the hickeys littering his neck and collarbones, they most certainly weren’t from you.

It’s not like he was yours, nor did you particularly care to have him.

If it were a strange sick game, you’d probably say it was his way of keeping score.

Who really wins in this situation ?

Still,

slut.

He laughed, his breath causing you to squirm slightly underneath him,

“You wouldn’t want me any other way”

—

You peered at the girl wrapped around his arm, you remember her from one of your classes.

Olivia, was it ?

You couldn’t describe the feeling, wanting to stay indifferent you pushed aside the irritation you felt simply by looking at her.

Maybe you felt sick, why were you upset by this? If anything, you should redirect your irritation towards Teo.

The both of you were in the same predicament, didn’t she realize ? Or did she just not care ?

Not that you cared either, you reminded yourself.

“Anyways, I came to pick up my sweater, but..”

You eyed the snared girl, her watching your gaze before realizing it had landed on her figure.

The same one enveloped in your all too familiar fabric.

Instead of apologizing and returning it to its rightful owner, she simply twisted her lips upwards and snickered.

“I see that’s it been… used.”

—

Pulling away from the driveway, you didn’t even bother watching his car zip away anymore.

Probably onto the next.

It shouldn’t bother you, you weren’t dating. You’ll never be in a real relationship. The basis for one had been ruined too many nights ago.

Locking the door behind you, you kicked off your shoes.

Your phone was dead, but there wouldn’t be a real reason to charge it.

It wasn’t likely you’d get a text from him anyway.

You slumped onto your bed, the sheets enveloping your sore body. A deep sigh escaping you.

You can’t keep doing this.

.000

*his whiskey toned eyes were intoxicating, your head was swimming before but now you were practically drowning

*it was no use. there wasn’t any escaping or hope for salvation.

*you welcomed your ruin with open arms.

[sgojoenthusiast]

post breakup sex with jjk characters

• geto - part 2

<- previous part 

     next part ->

‘she’s breaking down i’m ‘bout to lose it, i’m screaming who the fuck were you with’

CW: smut, toxicity, irresponsible drinking, degrading, humiliation, blowjob, nicknames (princess, baby), rough sex, biting, choking, slapping, dumbification.

word count: 3.1k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

“Why were you even with her if you knew she was tryna fuck you then?”

Geto was pissed. He was drunk and incredibly angry.

You were equally as angry, yet painfully stubborn and irritating as a result of your drunkenness.

“How come you think so fucking little of me? You really think I'd cheat on you? You know what, you wanna break up with me?” he stormed over to your drunk body, held up by the wall’s support. “Fine. go on then, I’m not stopping you. Why the fuck should i be with someone who refuses to listen to my fucking explanation?”

“You wanna fucking explain? I don't need an explanation geto! I watched as you guys kissed right in front of me! To think we’ve been together for years and you-”

“I pushed her off goddammit! If you had looked for a second longer, you would have seen that I pushed her off! I would never do that to you!”

“I’m fucking done.” you slurred, stumbling out angrily. “Go fuck her if you wanna but remember who’ll actually make you cum” you mumbled on your way out, almost so quietly that he wouldn’t have heard had he not had his head in his arms against the wall in silence.

“Fuck off then.” he snapped drunkenly back.

•••

One week. It had been one week since your feud with geto and it felt like hell.

You woke up hungover and with little memory of the events, however, the mind of geto kissing that girl lingered in your mind.

Truth be told, you were looking for about half a second. She had her hand on his jaw and her lips on his. His eyes were wide and his grip on her wrist firm.

What you didn’t see was how when you turned your back, he pulled her wrist away and pushed her back to break the kiss repeating the same phrase he had told her several times that night: “I have a girlfriend.”

You had a gut feeling that both of you getting drunk would lead to complications, it always does. Every massive fight has started with both of you hammered and picking apart something and making it bigger than it actually is. Making it bigger than it is without having seen the full picture.

You felt this fight was permanent as your eyes told you he cheated, causing a hole in your heart to erupt and affect every part of you immensely.

The lack of communication on geto’s behalf certainly wasn’t helping.

It wasn’t until you sat in a pub, drinking away your sorrows, that you realised what had happened.

“You’re that dude’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” she sits beside you. “Can you apologise to him for me? I was totally drunk and I wouldn't have kissed him had I actually been in the right headspace to process his words.”

You’re taken aback a bit. At first, you were shocked at her audacity. However, her words interested you a bit. “I'm sorry, what?”

“You are his girl, right? Ge- Geto, I think his name was? He totally pushed me off when I kissed him and I'm so embarrassed that I even tried, especially after he told me about you like 7 times.” Her head fell dramatically into her hands, mocking the whole situation as though it hadn’t become a big deal.

But was it? Had he really been telling the truth? Shit you’ve fucked up. Surely he’d forgive you, right? I mean, from your perspective, all you saw was him locking lips with some girl he’d just met. You were understandably mad, so he can’t blame you for that, right?

Wrong.

Oh so very wrong.

He leant against the door frame, smirking down at you with tired eyes.

“So you wanna come crawling back after dumping me ‘cause you’re too fuckin’ stubborn to see the whole picture? Who’d you take me for, princess?”

He looked as though he hadn’t slept since your argument. You couldn’t blame him though as you spent your nights tossing and turning trying to decipher where you were lacking - what she had and you didn’t.

“Sugu, surely you understand my point of view? This whole situation is just a misunderstanding! Please can we just talk it through and try to understand each other“ you reasoned, though your words fell upon deaf ears as he went to slam the door. “You’re behaving ridiculously, Geto” you scolded him.

His mind felt as though it would blow up. He had spent the time without you in agony. The fact you had so little trust in him after all this time left a permanent scar in your relationship in which trust was a necessity. And then, you come strutting up to his apartment claiming you know the whole truth and how you want to go back to normal. He had spent a week with his heart in shreds at your lack of will to try only for you to listen to a woman you’ve never spoken to over him, your boyfriend.

Though, his true problem was how his clenched fist was leaving crescent shaped marks in his palm from restraining himself from pulling you into his arms. You would be the death of him.

“Fine then, come in. We’ll talk this shit through but if I don't like what you’re saying,” he stalked dangerously closer to you, “you won’t like what happens afterwards, princess.”

With his vague threat leaving you speechless and shivering, you stepped hesitantly through the door that had shown you into nothing but a homely welcome the countless other times you stepped through. This time, however, felt tense and you were desperate to turn back yet you were determined to fix this.

“Look, I know you’re pissed off because I didn’t believe you, yet you have to understand what I saw that night, Sugu-”

“Sure but d’you know what I saw? A stubborn brat who’s trust issues led her to jump to a conclusion despite having only looked at the situation for hardly a second.” he snapped back, slamming the door violently.

“Sugu, I was devastated! What would you just sit and stare if I kissed someone in front of you?” you attempted to reason.

“For fuck’s sake I didn’t kiss her!”

a never ending pattern of recycling arguments and trying to understand each other only led to sore throats and dried up tears as you were standing outside of suguru’s bedroom door, which he had stormed into mid-argument.

Your relationship has always been solid and stable. Sure, there were minor conflicts here and there yet nothing that led you both to having backs against the same door as you tried to reason with each other with the little breath you had left.

“Sugu, I hate this. Surely you’re not giving up because of one rough patch?”

“Fuck’s sake, princess. You don’t trust me and you don’t see where you’re wrong, either”

You were clinging onto any shred of hope or positivity. You wanted things back to how they were yet, Geto made this no easier by his lack of wanting to apologise and forgive you.

Your tear stained cheek was pressed against the wooden door as you heard shuffling and a lock clicking behind it. You shuffled back swiftly as he hesitantly opened the door.

His eyes shone dangerously dim, a worn out smirk rested on his lips as he looked you up and down. “You’re not even sorry, are you baby? You’re not sorry, ‘cause you don’t think you have to be. Ain’t that right?”

You sighed, “You want me to apologise? fine, then i’m-”

“Don’t. Don’t unless you fucking mean it.”

Your thoughts were all over the place at his confusing behaviour and words.

“I do mean it, Sugu. It was wrong of me not to trust you and I was wrong to jump to conclusions when-”

“This past week has been the worst since before we first started dating. I’ve been a fucking mess, princess. Everything reminds me of you and I can't take it. Shit, I can't even hate you right now because all I can see is your lips as they retaliate. You can’t even begin to comprehend the absurd feelings I have for you. I can’t even fucking tell whether I wanna be fucking you dumb against my door, or holding you and apologising or if I should slam the door in your face. You complicate shit and I can't stand it- I can't stand you.”

“You can’t stand me?”

Your throat was dry and your mind was blank. So much so that you hadn’t realised your back was against his door frame as he hovered over you intimidatingly.

Your mind so blank you hadn’t realised when his lips were on yours and then on your neck and moving down your chest as he picked you up by your thighs and caressed them gently before holding them in a bruising grip to convey his anger.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

Geto carries you purposefully towards his bed, immediately placing his lips back on yours as he does so, as though your lips give him life.

He wasn’t lying. He can't stand you. He can’t stand your laugh, voice, hair, body or anything that you do because those things make him feel powerless and weak, they punch him straight in the stomach whenever you’re present however before, he would have died to even be touched by you. Now, though he’s fuelled by his undying adoration and desperation, he can't help but communicate the betrayal he feels by his lack of delicacy when handling you now. He can’t help but feel as though your lack of trust was just the twist of the blade in his heart during this relationship.

On the other hand, you cherished every second with him in case he decided to cut you off. You knew you fucked up, yet you knew your reasoning that the couldn’t discern.

Geto dropped you on the bed carelessly, whereas before, he’d handle you with the utmost fragility as though you could shatter any minute.

“You wanna prove to me how sorry you are, baby?” you nodded hesitantly, concerned for what he may have in mind yet not willing to toss away the preciousness of the memories made within the past few years.

“Good girl. listen carefully, okay? I know that's not your strong suit but try your hardest for me, baby.”

Fuck, you were on fire. You felt small due to his humiliation and degradation and he hadn’t even started. You bowed your head due to his belittlement, hiding away the shame evident on your face before he grabbed your chin harshly, however at the same time with the same amount of care he used to hold you with.

“I want you to get on your knees for me, you can do that, can’t you?” you nodded your head submissively, he always knew how to get you so small underneath him. “Good girl. Surely even your dumb brain knows what to do now, huh? C’mon baby.”

He glared down at you, radiating with power he had stolen from you. His fuel was your embarrassment and submission. He thrived on getting you to submit to him and do as you’re told.

Strands of hair began to fall out his bun, sticking to his forehead which only emphasised the fury within his eyes, hiding away the concern he felt for you at the same time.

A concealed smile began to creep its way upon his face as you slowly unbuckled his belt and lowered his jeans. Your eyes never left his menacing ones as you freed his hard cock and spat on it lewdly. “Do you wanna do that a bit faster, princess? Making me wait won't make this any easier for you.'' Although he spoke a question, you had little room to decide as he grabbed the back of your head and forced your lips to where he craved them to be, nudging his cock against them forcing you to part your lips.

He kept his grip firm on your head, yet he allowed you to move freely and didn’t push you further onto his cock, as tempting as it sounded to him. “Nothin’ stopping me from using you as a toy, baby, so pick up the pace, will ya?”

Anyone who respected themself would have immediately disobeyed, and whilst you knew your worth, something about the way geto spoke to you urged you to do as he says. His words were compelling and you were infatuated with every one of them as they controlled your mind. So, with his words processed in your head, you took every inch of him quicker, choking and gagging repetitively on his cock, tears welling up in your eyes from the invasion.

He grunted and moaned, eyes finally tearing from yours as he threw his head back, finally throwing praises at your ears, telling you how good you were being for him. He stroked your head tentatively as you struggled around him, head bobbing up and down, hands clawing at the material of his jeans.

Seeing him so pleased by your mouth caused you to grind up on yourself, moaning around his dick, the vibrations earning a tighter grip on your head. “F-fuck- you sorry baby? Say you’re fucking sorry. Oh wait, you can’t.” he pouted down at you, chuckling at the sight of you. “Poor thing, choking on my cock like that, so pathetic. You want mercy baby? Tough shit.”

He pulled your head off him roughly. “Get on the bed.”

He tugged off his clothes as you climbed on the bed, soon following his actions and removing your clothes, leaving you in your underwear on his bed.

He leaned down and encased you in his arms, lips closing on your skin, tongue travelling across your neck, then your chest, and soon your legs. He bit down on your skin harshly, looking up to see your pained reaction as you chewed on your bottom lip.

He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder as his fingers traced your thighs, however, you knew better than to beg him for more until he said so. His touch was gentle and light as his fingers dragged across your skin and over your panties until his thumb pressed down on your clit, causing your lips to part for a yelp to leave them.

All he did was bark out a brief laugh at your pathetic reaction and continue to torture you slowly. “Jesus, fuck- you always this wet after we argue, huh?” he smacked your thigh harshly at your lack of a response. “That was a question, princess.”

You parted your lips to answer, but before anything but a moan could come out, geto had his skilled fingers rubbing at your clit under your panties.

“Fuuu- yes!”

“Yeah, baby? What a slut, getting wet at me shouting at you. Tell me you’re a slut, baby, c’mon”

“’M a slut, Sugu.” you slurred as he pulled down your panties for full access to your cunt, fingers working their way inside you as his thumb played with your aching clit.

You moaned pathetically at his touch, pushing yourself onto his fingers in a desperate attempt for him to speed up, yet all he did was pull away from you, scoffing at you.

“Beg for my cock, baby. Make it good, put on a show f’me, will you? C’mon, beg for it.”

You wasted absolutely no time. Not a second of hesitation.

“Please Sugu! I can't take it anymore, need you inside me badly. Pleasepleasepleaseee Sugu I need your cock- please!”

His smile brightened before he shut you up with his lips on yours. His tongue found its way inside you as the kiss deepened, a whine erupting out your throat before he pulled off to stare at you closely. His hand raised to slap you across the face, yet all you could do in return was moan and buck your hips up desperately.

His lips found yours again and his hand found your throat. “Such a good girl, yeah?” he murmured against you before straightening himself up and lining himself up with your pussy.

He pushed himself in, deep and slow.

He looked godly as his hair stuck to his forehead, gaps of light coming from the closed curtains were drawn to him, highlighting his beauty and presenting him in an angelic way as he thrusted himself in you.

You watched him with half-closed eyes, your hand gripping the pillow behind you and your back arching at his touch.

He dragged himself in and out of you at a leisurely pace, though his thrusts only got harder.

In no time, you were screaming around his cock with his hand around your throat. “If you scream any louder, you’ll alert the neighbours.” he stated, taking the hand around your throat and pushing two of his fingers into your mouth which you immediately began to suck. His cock pummelling in and out of you, the feeling clouding your brain as he whispered lewd words and chanted forbidden phrases into the air.

“God- your pussy is so fucking perfect baby. You’re driving me insane. I like you more with my fingers down your throat and my dick stuffin’ you full, don’t ‘ya think?”

All you could do was agree because, fuck, did you like his dick filling you up. You loved all thoughts but Suguru leaving your head as his dick fucked you hard.

He lifted your legs up to your chest and slithered the hand that was in your mouth down to your pussy, stroking brutally at your clit.

Everything felt so heavenly as the knot inside you was about to snap. Geto felt you tighten around him and he knew you were about to cum. “Not until i say so, alright, baby?”

You nodded brainlessly, waiting for his permission.

He kept his pace, reaching closer and closer to his own high. The feeling of you so tight around him had his brain reeling, though he tried to drag it out as long as he could.

He pulled one of your legs to the side, allowing him to lean forward and capture your lips, biting down slowly. He moved his way to your neck, nipping and kissing slightly. All this only added to the sensation of one of his hands on your pussy, the other gripping your thigh and his dick slamming into you.

He moved down to your chest and took one of your breasts into his mouth, tongue running smoothly over your hardening nipple.

You gasped for air, not being able to take anymore, and luckily enough before you could tell geto it was too much, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore, his head pulled back up to your ear and whispered gently into it, granting you permission to cum as he bit the bottom of your ear.

Your cunt fluttered around him as you let all the sensations that would cause you to cum overtake you. You whined and moaned in suguru’s ear, and shortly enough, he let himself go and came inside of you, filling you up.

He groaned deeply, his head falling in between your head and shoulder as he panted heavily and came deeply inside you.

He kissed up your neck until he reached your lips and hovered over them, eyes shut lightly. He opened them up to meet your own gazing back at him.

“Bet you’re sorry now, huh?”

[cheriladycl01]

Pub Crawl - Kevin Magnussen x MalteseOlympicLacrosse! Reader

Plot: Having attended university in the UK and becoming a professional at Lacrosse meant you often stayed in the UK but what happens when your offered the opportunity to compete for your country in the Olympics!

You and Kevin were used to the constant travelling. You travelled as much as you physically could with Kevin. You would train with your team during the week and then get a late night flight to whoever he was in the world late night on the Friday to try and get to him by Qualifying on the Saturday.

However, the last few weeks had been shambles, you’d been in a National match in the UK, seeing your teammates and training more after finding out you’d gotten a place in the Olympics on their Lacrosse Team for your home country Malta.

“Girls?” You say reading the letter with a shocked expression on your face.

“What, oh! That’s your Olympic letter!” One of your team mates from your English team squeals.

“I- I got in!” You cheer celebrating! You rushed all the way home thrusting the letter in Kevin’s face.

“Baby look! I’m going to the Olympics” you say before he even has a chance to read the letter.

“Oh my gosh, that’s incredible” he says lifting you up and placing a light kiss in your forehead before keeping you in his warm embrace rocking you side to side.

Then it was the British Grand Prix that you’d been able to go to from the Thursday to Sunday as you were already in the UK from your previous tournament.

It was a nice change for Kevin to have you their to support him for the whole weekend and it was nice to have him with you for your tournament, being that it was in a Tuesday.

“Ah don’t you just love the atmosphere of Silverstone, there’s only a few races I think beat this for the vibe” you smile leaning on the out wall, taking in the rare summer sun that had graced the track.

“Mmmm it’s definitely one of my favourites” he smiles. Kevin had been having a difficult season despite Haas actually doing pretty well thanks to Nico.

“I know it’s been a difficult season and I know they’ve confirmed that you aren’t … coming back to Haas but there’s other options right?” You smile encouragingly. He just shakes his head.

“I think … I think I’m ready to go. I want to focus on what’s important to me” he says reaching out for your hand and pulling it into his lap.

“Wait, really? Your retiring?” You ask and he nods.

“There’s so many things I want to start in life with you. Like a family … and I want to be there full time for it. It doesn’t mean I won’t ever race again but I definitely need a break”

You can’t help but just pull him into a hug.

“I want all of that too”

After the British GP, it was the Euros. Originally you were supposed to go with Lando, as you both had been invited by the English Team however all of your friends were watching on from a pub in the UK.

So you and Kevin stayed watching England vs Spain from a busy pub in the UK. Kevin loved pubs in the UK which ended up turning into your friends taking you guys on a massive pub crawl across London and drinking England’s loss to Spain.

Needless to say, you and Kevin had an incredible night but regretted it the next morning when you both woke up in your friends apartment hungover.

After that it was the Hungarian Grand Prix where you didn’t attend because you were off training in Malta with your team and making funny TikTok’s with your team gear.

You started training with your team, and you hadn’t spoken to Kevin in person in what seemed like ages where Spa was right after Hungary.

“Hey baby I miss you” you’d said to him on the phone that he was very close to.

“I know baby and I’ll be back in France soon! It’s not that far a drive from Belgium” he told you with a smile on his face.

Then a knock sounds from your hotel room door.

“Gimme one second, I think one of the girls is at my door” you say before running to open the door.

“KEV!” You screech dropping your phone and jumping into his arms.

“Hello Elskede” he smiles and you look shocked.

“W-what are you doing here?” You ask in shock.

“You don’t think I’d miss your first game do you?” He asks in a teasing tone and you pull him into a kiss.

“Thank you! I love you so much” you smile.

y/user

Liked by kevinmagnussen and haasf1team

y/user: It’s been a dream of mine to compete for my country since I was a little kid. Thank you Olympics2024 and Team Malta for giving me a shot on your Lacrosse Team 🇲🇹 🥍 🥇

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fan1: what a summer, we get the Euros, the Olympics and all these F1 races.

kevinmagnussen: I’m so proud of you. TEAM MALTA 🇲🇹

-> y/user: Thank you my love 🫶🏼❤️

haasf1team: Let’s go Y/N, sibt dan! 🇲🇹🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

-> Thank you! Well done on an incredible season so far! 🇺🇸

fan2: I cannot wait to see her compete! Going for Gold ⭐️

Instagram Story Caption:

Cheeky Stop in London before Paris begins 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿⚽️

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[malebodyexhibit]

The Start of a New Life (a Next Door Boy tale)

Thomas posed for the picture while his friend took a picture. He felt so comfortable in this body. It was such a daddy bod, but he was a hunk with stomach fuzz and boulder-like biceps. His cock wasn’t anything scoff at too. At 8 inches, he loved the gray that peppered his pubes. The man whose life he took over had children in their late 20s, about a decade older than Thomas’s original body.

The guys in their teens like Thomas had been were obsessed with stupid stuff like chasing girls, action movies, or getting blasted on the weekend. Thomas just wanted a grown up relationship where he could talk about art, history, and important things. So he signed up for NDB services and matched with a daddy. 

The man was nothing impressive with exception of his bank account and hunky body. He wanted what most men wanted on NDB: a young body to have great sex in. He was a massive horn dog. His libido caused his divorce and estrangement of his children. He didn’t care. He wanted to look young and fuck hard.

He spent so much money on Thomas’s body. The first few days, Thomas watched in surprise as his teenage body posted slutty social media pics. Tomas’s friend kept him up to date to with what his teenage body did. He got drunk and partied hard, slept with several jocks, played strip poker, and changed his wardrobe. No more polo shirts or khakis, his teenage body was decked out in sports gear even though Thomas hadn’t been particularly sporty or athletic. That seems to have changed when the video posted with his teen body being piledrived  by a couple gym bros. It was honestly impressive how much upper body strength Thomas’s old body had.

The abuse his old body went through didn’t phase Thomas. The deal was already made. This wasn’t a vacation. This was the rest of his life. Thomas stretched his meaty arms and stripped off his pants. While he didn’t party hard like the old guy, he still had urges, and thankfully his friend was here to help him.

He wrapped his arms around his friend, a 30-something medical student, he met in college. They tried dating but his friend loved older men who were more mature and responsible. Now that Thomas was near twice his age with a stable income and maturity, he fit the bill for his perfect man.

They kissed and Thomas moaned as his friend reached around pushed him harder against him.

“What did you need the photo for, babe?” Thomas asked.

His friend turned around and fondled his erection. “I wanted to show my friends what a hot man I had. Maybe we can take a couple more pics for my parents? With your shirt on I mean.”

“That’s gonna kill your father. I must be near his age!” Thomas laughed and pulled his friend’s hand away and knelt down taking in his cock into his mouth. “Not to mention my own children are a year younger than you.”

“Honey, don’t talk with your mouth full.” He moaned and gripped the back of Thomas’s head and slowly thrusted. His hands caressing this body’s thinning hair. “My dad will love you. You both like the same old people stuff.”

Thomas pulled back and the wet cock smacked his friend’s thigh. “Oh, you’re going to get a spanking for that!” Thomas picked up his boyfriend, so much easier with these bulging biceps, and playfully smacked his ass. The two resumed their kiss, enjoying each other’s warmth.

In another city, Thomas’s old body woke up. He went by the name of Dylan and his head pounded from a hangover. The previous night was an exciting blur of a pub crawl. As Dylan turned on his side, the men on either side of him covered his naked body with their jacked arms. The day promised another exciting night.

Unbeknownst to each other, the two men thought of how their dreams came true.

[mumms-the-word]

Dani & Gale's Wedding

Not to answer my own prompt list but I'm obsessed with them and I already have a bunch of this planned so LET'S FRICKIN' GO

Don't worry. Not only is it all under the cut for your sanity and convenience, but I'm making it a thread so you (and I) don't get overwhelmed. Plus it gives me more content throughout the week as I have another busy week ahead <3

But first, a quick summary!

Dani and Gale get married in a garden/park in Baldur's Gate in what can be described as a "relatively modest affair" (Gale's words) or "the best damn garden party this city has ever seen" (Dani's words). They were surrounded by family, friends, and former allies, as many as they could convince to join them, but the ceremony and reception were far from elaborate. Dani and Gale incorporated both Baldurian and Waterdhavian traditions, like Baldurian bard dances and Waterdhavian wedding rings, but ultimately they skipped out on a lot of traditions because they just wanted to have a fun ceremony/reception surrounded by their favorite people. They both were more interested in a ceremony that reflected love and commitment, and a bangin' reception where everyone was well-fed, well-entertained, and well-loved. Their wedding also ends up being like the bard-iest wedding ever because Dani knows so many bards and insists on using so many of their traditions (which I made up and are not actual dnd lore).

Details under the cut!

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Before the Wedding

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Wedding, or something else?

Dani had always considered marriage one of those idealistic things that only happen to madly in love people, or else it was a political arrangement. Her mother never married and her sort-of-foster-dad/mentor never remarried after his wife died, and she didn't expect to ever fall into a long-term romantic relationship. Gale changed all of that and the moment he proposed she realized she wanted nothing more in the world than to be his wife and officially become part of his family.

Proposal

Gale proposed to Dani, obviously! I've dabbled with the idea that maybe they had a different proposal than the one shown in the game, but I find that it works really well for them. I like the idea of them waking up the next morning after saving the city, and he says those lines, "I understand your purpose lies here, but I fear if I return to Waterdeep alone, my heart would remain here with you. And so, if you're at all amenable to the idea, I thought I could, perhaps, stay. There might even be room for two Dekarioses in Baldur's Gate?"

I love that it's a little informal, that he doesn't have a ring to give her, that all he's asking is that maybe there could be the two of them, a new clan of Dekarioses there in Baldur's Gate. Dani doesn't need all the bells and whistles, she just wants family all around her. So a sweet, informal proposal in the middle of an Elfsong Tavern room, well, it suits her just fine.

Bachelor/Bachelorette parties?

Dani absolutely has a hen do/bachelorette because her foster sister, Liara, positively insists. But it's less of a hen do and more like a party for Dani, her mom, and her Merry Rovers to celebrate together before she officially gets married, so it's not girls-only or anything. Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Astarion, and even Jahiera join for parts of it, and Dani desperately wishes Karlach and Wyll could be there, but otherwise it's a fun night of drinking, games, stories, and music for Dani and her bard family.

Gale gets a somewhat less chaotic stag do, which he probably prefers. If Wyll were around, Gale would have had a much wilder time (you know Wyll would be dragging Gale out for a traditional pub crawl like any former bachelor's best friend would do), but since he's not, he simply goes out for some drinks, planning on a relatively quiet night...until Shadowheart and Astarion find him and drag him over to join the Merry Rovers and Dani, officially turning their separate stag/hen dos into a mutual "celebrating the last days the two of us are not married" kind of event. Fun for all!

Pre-Ceremony Events

Gale does formally ask Maeva, Dani's mother, for her blessing, but it's mostly out of a sense of tradition. Maeva just laughs and says her blessing is only worth so much when Dani has such an independent streak, but she gives it willingly. Brann happens to also be there, and though he sometimes insists he doesn't have any "real" family ties to Dani (a lie that no one believes because he's basically her adopted/foster dad), he offers to bless their marriage too, if only as one bard to another. It's difficult to say who gets more teary-eyed during Brann's blessing, between the four of them in the room.

Dani also goes to meet Morena before the wedding, spending a few days in Waterdeep. She asks her and Tara if they're all right with her marrying Gale and she's a completely nervous wreck about it because she's convinced she won't measure up to Morena's standards, but she needn't worry. Morena is delighted with her (though a little sad that they're going to be living in Baldur's Gate and not Waterdeep).

It’s also customary (in my head) in both Waterdeep and Baldur’s Gate to send a letter, poem, or song to each other the night before the wedding (often hiring a bard to do so, so that everyone in the street can hear the declarations of love). Dani goes to stay with her mother for three days prior to the wedding so they can finish alterations on her dress, while Gale stays in his and Dani’s new home in the Lower City. Just as Gale is sitting in their upstairs bedroom, penning this romantic, elegant, beautiful poem to send to Dani using a mirror image of himself, she shows up outside his window in the street below with her fiddle, serenading him with a love song that is both sweet and cheeky, romantic and raunchy.

Gale is caught between a tiny bit of burning embarrassment (the whole street can hear her singing about, well, some specific physical features of his) and an even more burning desire to pull her upstairs and have his way with her, but she ends her song with a wink and a little blown kiss and then disappears (handy invisibility spell). Gale returns to his desk and resolves to edit his poem to be a bit more spicy before sending an illusion of himself to stand outside her mother’s house and recite it for all the world to hear. Dani thinks it’s the funniest and loveliest thing ever.

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Part 2 coming soon!