#the next few days until Christmas are all busy…

[warriorfujoshi]

good morning everybody… i had a dream i started working on a beautiful document abt envyautumn vn containing character bios, themes, plot points and inspirations… and then I woke up and executive dysfunction exists

[flightyalrighty]

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36

Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic

Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi (Discord!) | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.

A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:

The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).

It took two years to get to this point.

And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).

This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.

I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.

So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.

I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.

Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.

And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;

"Hey. You're gonna be alright."

Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.

Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."

Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.

So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.

I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.

I'm extremely grateful for all of you.

So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.

[gutsby]

Trigger Tease(r)

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Before his morning briefing, your mob boss husband decides to take a pit stop in the sauna with you.

Warnings: 18+. Oral (f!receiving). Gentle fingerfucking. Praise and degradation. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Bucky talking you through it. Bimbofication if you squint.

Notes: @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast - you inspired me 🪽 I just had to crank out a little teaser for the third installment of Wedded Bliss. I hope y’all like it 💓

Full version here

In between breakfast and the start of your husband’s early briefing, you found yourself situated in much the same way you’d been spending a lot of time these days: pinned up against the wall of a wood-paneled sauna, Bucky’s broad shoulders supporting both of your legs as he buried his face deep between your thighs. You sighed.

“Hold still,” Bucky grunted, voice muffled as he tried to keep your slick, squirming body in place above him.

You yelped and seized a fistful of his hair when he wedged his tongue even further inside you, nudging your clit with his nose almost too teasingly and deliberate.

“I can’t…help it,” you bit back, ignoring the brief glare you earned from your husband as soon as you said it, “Your tongue’s just so— s— James!”

This time, Bucky let out a full-throated groan when you yanked on those poor wet locks of his—‘Gonna make me bald by next Christmas if you keep doin’ that, honey’—and he pried his head from your legs just long enough to knock you flat on the sauna bench close by.

The western red cedar seared hot on your skin, already flushed from the exhaustion wrought by Bucky’s tongue; you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up when he pushed you onto your back and crawled over your body.

“How ‘bout my fingers, doll? Can you take a couple’a those for me?” Bucky crooned above you as he stroked your hair, bathed in pure sunlight pouring in from the windows. His voice was a touch more sympathetic now.

After all, this was your third orgasm of the morning. It really wasn’t fair for him to use that biological weapon of mass destruction he liked to call his tongue when he knew how sensitive your clit would get from just one ‘O’. Even his hands might be too much in your current state.

Bucky was busy peppering your skin with kisses, working his way from the base of your neck to the crown of your head, when you whimpered and tried to fight a smile.

“Finger,” you corrected him, “Just one finger, Barnes.”

You would’ve thought you’d just thrown your wedding ring in his face and told him to eat shit. Just one?

“How’s one finger s’posed to stretch you out for my cock, huh? Practically had you screamin’ when I stuck it in last night,” Bucky wasn’t one to hide his amusement, grinning even bigger when you swatted him on the arm.

“Who said anything about your cock?” You tried to keep cool as Bucky’s fingers trailed right back down to the place you felt yourself throbbing, aching for his touch, “You have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Meeting doesn’t start until I say so, my love,” Bucky reminded you just as his index ghosted over your folds.

In truth, he was willing to play this game any way, and for however long, you wanted it done, so long as he was the one bringing you pleasure. Be that his cock, his finger, or all fucking five on one hand, Bucky just wanted to get you off. It was better sustenance to him than the whole damn meal the two of you had eaten that morning.

Bucky kept it down to one digit and lightly circled your bundle of nerves when he sensed you were ready.

You gripped his forearm and shot a quick look between your legs, still in disbelief as to how he could make you feel this good so soon after you’d cum twice before. You felt his lips drift over to yours and steal a few kisses.

“Always doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praised, moving his finger in circles. When you whined against his mouth, he pressed it even harder, “Such a good girl for daddy.”

“James,” you breathed, clenching your legs together.

“Everything OK?”

“Uh-huh.”

More than OK, in fact. That delectable coil of sweet, euphoric release was already swelling gently in your tummy. Bucky moved his finger even faster.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured low in your ear.

Bucky loved seeing you try to articulate your feelings—relatively fresh and new to your world, still—while he was giving you pleasure. Adored the way you winced and whined and arched your back into his touch as a whole blustering hailstorm of sensations crashed over you.

He sank his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you, as if trying to extract the words from between your lips. Your response, in consequence, came somewhat stifled.

“Mm— feels so, oh—” Your voice broke off in a moan when Bucky tightened his circles, “—so good, daddy.”

“Wanna show daddy how good and cum for me?”

Bucky knew by the way you were whimpering under his hand that the tendril in your stomach had almost tripled in size. It wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge.

“My sweet girl,” he said, rubbing your cunt at the same time he was stroking the back of your head, gently, “Feels so nice down there, doesn’t it?”

You rolled your hips against the bench and nodded. Your breaths were short and ragged, panting helplessly into Bucky’s mouth when he adjusted his hand just a little: pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit, with his index moving down to your entrance. Pushing inside you.

“Another,” you choked, not thinking.

Bucky met your desperate gaze and nodded, knowing this was exactly what you needed to make it over the precipice.

Still, he wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t tease just a bit.

“I thought my wife wanted one finger,” he hummed, brow pinching inward.

“No, no.” You could’ve shrieked when he curled the digit, “Want more— Bucky, please, please, I need more.”

Again, your husband appeared to nod in understanding, but his fingers didn’t budge. He worked his thumb a little faster and watched you writhe on the seat beneath him.

“How many, honey? Don’t wanna hurt my baby.” His words were all kindness, it seemed, but his tone laced with shameless condescension—the kind that said, yes, I know you need this, and no, I won’t indulge you just yet. Bucky was the worst when he wanted to prove a point. You could’ve ripped at his clothes and torn them in two if you weren’t both stark naked and shrouded in steam.

You opted to pull at his hair instead.

Bucky winced, but the smirk never left.

“I said how many?” he pressed again.

“Three. Four.” Fuck if you knew.

Your husband raised both eyebrows and hummed, a single finger still plunging in and out of your cunt in quick succession. He teased the tip of another at your entrance and smiled even more when you whined.

“Needy little thing, isn’t she?”

“Bucky—”

“Just wants to fuck daddy’s hand to get herself off, hm?”

Bucky didn’t bother to mask his sweet, degrading tone any longer as he talked down and teased you to no end. It drove him half-insane to see you squirm around, rut your hips, let him say the filthiest fucking words he could conjure up, and just bob your head to whatever he said. His impeccant wife and her insatiable needs—Bucky couldn’t even begin to express how turned on the sheer dichotomy got him. He stared in your eyes, all glossy and soft, and felt his cock stand even more rigid on his belly.

He didn’t give a shit if he’d taunted you enough or not; he just shoved his middle and ring fingers alongside the first and clenched his jaw to start fucking you hard with all three.

Your whole face contorted with pleasure, tinged with the faintest shade of discomfort at the tail end of it. You’d forgotten how big his fingers felt all together.

“Bucky,” you whined, mindlessly clawing at the wrist that was moving back and forth, fast, between your legs, “B-Baby, slow— slow down a little.”

But Bucky was deep in the zone. He knew you wanted it too—sensed that you liked to play it safe when it came to your pleasure and grew a little timid at times it got to feel too much—and he needed to talk you through it.

Rather than turn his head and keep to himself as he got you up to your peak, Bucky pressed his face down to yours and nodded again—this time with a tender sincerity.

“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”

You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Bucky kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his fingers wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,

“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”

“My perfect fucking wife, so good at taking my fingers.”

“Gonna be nice and stretched out for my cock, hm?”

Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Bucky wanted you. Exactly how you needed to be, bucking your hips in time with the cadence of his fingers fucking inside you, and soon, those whimpers were turning to moans as that soft little helix inside you reached its breaking point.

Bucky brushed once or twice more against your sensitive spot, and suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his wrist you feared you might snap it in two, and then getting kissed again, over and over while Bucky drank in your every sound, and the few tears that sprung to your eyes as they always did, like sweet nectar.

You were still moaning, curling your tongue feebly against his own and leaning into him as far as you could, when your husband slipped three fingers up between your mouths and pushed them past your parted lips.

“Suck,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he watched you, “C’mere, honey, taste your cunt on my fingers.”

You took him in and sucked your arousal off his fingers just like he asked. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his hand, where your juices had no doubt collected too.

That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Bucky could’ve wanted.

He climbed on top of you and took the base of his cock, rock-hard and weeping tears of precum from the tip, almost drunk from the feeling himself. His mouth hung open as he dragged himself over the seam of your cunt.

“I need to fuck you.”

Taglist (STILL HAVE TO UPDATE THIS I'M DUMB AS SHIT): @vicmc624, @she-could-never, @mcira, @kentokaze, @identity2212, @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx, @stinkerbelle007, @opibarnes, @wilsons-striped-ties, @desigirlxx, @pono-pura-vida, @geminiflanagansblog, @fandomsfeminismandme, @buggy14, @sky-full-0f-fl0wers, @buckysdoll1520, @armystay89, @minimarvelingmarvel, @kunakizen, @ghostiebby06, @blackhawkfanatic, @dameron-grant-spector, @sushiseoks, @deansapplepie, @mrsjoequinn, @lunaroserites, @first-edition, @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi, @excusememrbarnes, @daisychainsoflove, @mostlymarvelgirl, @diannana, @shawnberry, @yujyujj, @urmomsalex, @mrs-bucky-barnes-73, @athenabarnes, @christinabae, @wintrsoldrluvr, @bethbunnyy, @i-heart-smut @dixsond

[longing-for-the-past-times]

their reaction to you wearing a flavoured lipstick

task force 141 x reader headcanons

synopsis: headcanons of how would they react when the reader wears a flavoured lipstick/lip gloss/lip balm

notes: can you tell who is my favourite?

comments and reblogs are always appreciated🙈

warnings: mentions of smoking, occasional swearing, tooth-rotting fluff

find it on a03 masterlist

Captain 'John' Price - chocolate and red velvet

He may be slightly old-fashioned and love it when you wear red lipstick as he considers it a classy, but bold choice of colour

He is aware that you own more than one red lipstick, yet he secretly cannot differentiate one shade from another. Not that he'll ever let you know

That is until one day you visit him at work. He won't let it show, but he becomes jealous the second you walk in the base, your lips painted in a rich, velvety crimson. He cannot take his eyes off you, hypnotized by the captivating movement of your lips as you speak to him, telling him about your day and what you thought you should have for dinner.

John does not miss the hungry looks that are thrown across your way. He is quick to snake his hand around your waist and usher you to his office, where he could be the only one relishing in the allure the red lipstick cast over you-

"John, you're not really listening, are you?" your playful tone snaps him out of his reverie, a sheepish look plastered on his face.

"Love, did I ever tell you how much red lipstick suits you?"

"Only twice per day and more than ten times per night…" you roll your eyes at his antics, cupping his cheeks in your hands and planting a kiss at the corner of his lips, letting out a small giggle as his stubble tickled your lips.

"Well, I am headed home to get started on that dinner you didn't pay attention to!" you keep teasing him, amused by his dazzled expression. Little did you know, you had him wrapped around your finger.

"A…Alright, drive safe! I'll be there as soon as I finish this paperwork!"

Only he spends the next hour daydreaming about your red lips and the tender way they made contact with his skin, the phantom touch still lingering on the corner of his lips. Unconsciously, he traces his tongue over the place, freezing when he feels a mild flavour of chocolate.

He checks it once again, partially ashamed of the childish gesture. If any of his teammates caught him at that moment, they wouldn't let him live it down. But the subtle taste is there, sweet yet distant, almost as if it was teasing him.

The paperwork's long forgotten before he realizes it must be your lipstick. You might have told him that you found a new flavoured collection, but he had been too busy staring at your giddy figure to pay attention.

So he becomes a man with a plan and does not delay heading home anymore. The drive there seems endless, but it's all worth it the moment he opens the door and sees you standing by the kitchen counter, wearing the apron he gave you for Christmas

One second he's by the door, the next he's smashing his lips against yours, a small sigh of pleasure leaving him as he relishes in the now-intense aroma of chocolate.

"Warn an old man next time, will ya?"

From that day on, he starts calling you "chocolate". The pet name raises a few eyebrows here and there, but none of you are bothered by it. Not when you could tease him about his newly-found sweet tooth and he could lose himself in your delicate kisses.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley - strawberries and cigarettes

There are times when he becomes a heavy smoker, sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment and burning through a pack in one day while his mind is mulling over the previous or the next mission

In times like those, he has nothing against your presence, secretly enjoying when you lay his head atop his shoulder and hug him from behind, but he always refuses to kiss you afterwards, arguing that the acrid taste of cigarettes would gross you out

It definitely doesn't- it is an integral part of him that you'd come to accept and love- and now you couldn't live without it

Until one evening, you opt to sit across him, leaning your hands on the balcony railing, while your eyes wander over the city lights. Over the course of your relationship with Simon, you had grown used to his long bouts of silence, becoming accustomed to all of his telltale signs: his left eyebrow would twitch when he doesn't like something, his right foot would continuously tap against the ground when he is distressed.

Three cigarettes in, and his foot is reenacting Radetzky's March. He is utterly unaware of the amused glances you steal at him

"Something the matter, love?" you ask him in a sweet tone, trying to pull off your most innocent face.

"'s nothing", he begins hesitantly, his voice rough from not using it. "…just a little cold, I guess"

You have to turn your head away from him and back to the city, a satisfied smirk spreading on your face. Simon might have been the deadliest operator the Special Forces have had in a long time, but deep down he was also a touch-starved man who found solace and peace in your arms

When the foot tapping does not stop, you struggle to school your face into a neutral expression and turn towards him, your eyes melting at the sight of his dishevelled blonde hair and furrowed brow. He sheepishly looks up in your direction, a silent plea dancing in his chocolate eyes.

You stand and approach him slowly, stopping only when your faces are inches apart. His half-burnt cigarette is forgotten in the ashtray, the remnants of smoke in his breath fanning over your face.

His eyes hold a hundred unanswered questions: did he do something to upset you, did you grow sick of him, can he do anything to get you back; but they are all silenced when you lean in further, placing a gentle and intimate kiss on his lips

The unexpected gesture sends shivers of pleasure down his spine and he has to take a moment before cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing you back, the way you deserve to be kissed

You chuckle in his mouth before pecking both his eyes and forehead and returning to your original position, your head resting in the crook of his neck as your arms engulf him in a warm hug

He opens his mouth to scold you for kissing him when he is smoking. In his mind, it is almost like he is tainting your presence with the stale smell of smoked cigarettes. But as the words form on his lips, he hesitates, his mind struggling to acknowledge the foreign taste on his tongue

He turns to look at you with a confused look on his face. It was October so there could be no strawberries at the market and the freezer was empty as you had eaten all ice cream when you were on your period-

So why did he taste strawberries on your kiss?

"I may have found a lip gloss from high school", you eventually break the silence, blowing a huff of strawberry-scented air in his direction. "One I bought and swore to keep untouched until I found someone worth using it for!"

His thunderous laugh has you opening your mouth in shock. You could count on your fingers the number of times he'd laugh openly and without reserves

"Bloody hell, darling. You'll get me killed before smoking does! That thing must have been expired for years now!"

You shake your head in disbelief, faintly blushing at his words. You know he is teasing you, but that does not stop you from taking revenge as you start to plant messy pecks and kisses on his neck and cheeks. You eventually stop when your lips are once again inches apart from his, your breaths slowly mingling into a shared one

"Then I guess we are going down together"

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish - cherries and chapped lips

It all begins one cold morning when he leans in to kiss you goodbye before leaving for work

"Hold on! Johnny, you've got to do something about your chapped lips! You know what, let me get you a lip balm!"

He is quick to place a hand on your shoulder to stop you. His eyebrows are raised in disbelief and he has to do a double-take before words tumble out of his mouth

"Ain't no way I'm using such a thing, bonnie! Lip balms and such are made for wee lasses like you, not for demolition experts like me!"

You roll your eyes at his badly constructed argument and give him an unimpressed look when an idea pops into your mind.

"You stay right here, I'll be back in a jiffy!"

"What even is a jiffy?"

But you don't bother to answer as you head towards the bedroom, looking for the cherry-flavoured lip balm you bought specifically for the cold season. With precise movements, you apply a thick layer on your lips, smacking your lips to check if the cherry flavour is strong enough to linger. It fortunately is.

So you hurry into the hallway where Soap's waiting for you, hands on his hips as he angles his head in your direction. If he notices that your lips have just got shinier, he doesn't mention it

Instead, he leans in to properly kiss you goodbye this time, eyes comically widening when you deepen the kiss and make it last longer than usually

A small chuckle leaves his lips as you cup his cheeks in your hand and place a small kiss on the top of his nose

"How about we continue this when I come home?", he smiles at the ticklish sensation of your lips against his skin, the constant stinging of his own being forgotten for the moment

"Is that a promise, Sergeant?"

He has a hard time leaving home that day, the drive to the base being plagued by thoughts of you and how much you care for him. His lips have been chapped ever since spending the last two weeks on a mission that required him to be on constant watches in freezing temperatures. He eventually got used to it, the cracks and fissures becoming familiar from the countless times he dragged his tongue over lips, in a hopeless attempt to soothe the pain radiating from them

He does not realise that he is currently doing the same thing, his brain temporarily freezing as it detects a new, yet familiar aroma

Why do his lips taste like cherries?

He remains in the car, long after he's parked, his mind deep in thought as he runs his tongue over his lips once more, partially scared that he'll make the mysterious taste go away if he's too insistent. He does not see Ghost approaching his car from the back and actually flinches when he hears someone pounding on the window.

"D'you lock yourself in here, Johnny? The briefing's about to start in five and you haven't even geared up yet!"

"Bloody hell, you should really do something about your lips- they look like cracked desert earth or something…"

"Did not take you for a poet, L.T."

"Never said I was."

He is in the middle of the briefing when he figures out the source of the mystery taste. It all starts to make sense - the quick detour you had to take, the passionate kiss. He has to give it to you - you could do anything you put your mind to.

Because, besides the compelling taste, the chapstick you must have used started to have a soothing effect on his lips, the stinging becoming more bearable with every passing moment

He spends the rest of the day struggling to make the cherry flavour last longer, but it eventually fades out after he's forced to drink water. A small pout etches itself into his face and he starts to regret not listening to you.

The moment he comes home, he's in the bedroom, unscrewing the cap of every lip balm and smelling it before trying to place it back exactly as it was

You silently linger in the doorway, an amused smile creeping across your face as your fingers shift with the cherry-flavoured lip balm. Soap is so distracted by his covert operations task that he does not hear you trying to contain your chuckles.

"I believe you are looking for this?"

He is quick to snatch the small tube from your hands before bringing it closer to his nose and drawing a deep breath in. You shake your head in exasperation, a loud laugh escaping your lips as he clumsily tries to rub the chapstick across his lips.

"Love, you're doing it wrong! You might break it if you apply that much pressure!"

"Here, let me help you!"

Ends up insisting you order a batch just for him.

In just days, his lips go from cracked and fissured to soft and plump, perfect for the customary morning kiss

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - vanilla and stained teeth

Combat training is fun and games until you are paired up with someone like Ghost, Soap, or Gaz and get your ass handed to you

Lucky you, today Gaz is the person who slams your back on the hard mattress and pins your hands above your head, interlocking your feet with his

Your mind replays the steamy events of last night and you can't help but give him a suggestive smirk which is quickly followed by a toothy grin upon seeing the blush that spreads on his face

He shakes his head in disbelief, not letting go of your arms or feet. Instead, he leans forward, cocks his head and openly stares at you

"Darling, you've got lipstick on your teeth!"

You comically widen your eyes and try to bring your hands to your mouth, struggling to escape his firm grip, but to no avail.

"'m n't s'ppos'd to we'r lipstick 't w'rk", you try to mumble with your mouth closed while your tongue is running over your teeth, looking for any traces of lipstick.

"Ok, has it gone now?", you open your mouth and practically bar your teeth at him, frowning at his unreadable expression. "Gaz- you're scaring m-"

Before you finish your sentence, he smashes his lips against yours and it takes all you have not to whimper when you feel his tongue repeatedly swiping over your teeth

Once he breaks up the kiss, he makes a show of checking you up, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lips

"Yeah, I think I got it all…"

You roll your eyes at the shit-eating grin he's sporting as he runs his tongue over his lips and freezes, his jaw going slack

"Why am I tasting vanilla? Are you tasting vanilla?"

You try to give him an answer, but before being able to say a word, his lips are back on yours and he is kissing you hard and long, his hold remaining as firm as before

"Alright, lovebirds - go get a room before I cite you for public indecency!"

Upon hearing Captain Price, your combat instincts kick back in and you manage to push Gaz off of you, switching position, so that you are atop him, pinning him to the ground

"Sorry, Captain! We'll go back to training!", you call out to him, offering him an apologetic smile which he accepts with a subtle nod.

"Next time you wear that lipstick, let a man know!"

"It screams you need someone to kiss it better"

[whorekneecentral]

Winter Wonderland

Toto Wolff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: toto would do anything for reader, some friendly teasing, alcohol and the consumption of, a bit of an age gap (reader's late 20s/early 30s), handsy toto, the two of you are kinda drunk, daddy kink, oral (f!receiving), fingering, slight edging, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie.

Word Count: 1,772

Author's Note: this one goes out to all the dilf lovers.

merry smutmas series

--

Your husband skips out on Christmas every year due to work but this year, he ends up in London. You make it your mission to introduce him to some holiday fun.

Toto had one last work engagement to do this week before he's officially off for the holidays and it took him to London. So by extension, you made it to London as well.

Your husband had left you in the hotel, promising you that he'll be back in a few hours after doing his final work meeting before he was on holiday break.

When he returns, he finds you in the same spot he left you, on the couch. "Babe, have you not gotten up all day?"He asks, shrugging his coat off.

"I did, I ordered room service so I had to get it from the door," you tell him, eyes glued to the TV.

Toto laughs, making his way over to sit next to you. You lean into the man, his arms wrapped around you and you can still feel the chill on his skin despite him wearing a coat when he was outside. It takes him a second to realize that you weren't in your pyjamas, but you were dressed as if you were going out.

The man looks at you with raised eyebrows, there's a hint of a smile on your face. "I know that look, what are you up to?" He asked.

"Okay I know you're probably tired but we leave for home tomorrow and I really wanna go!"

"Go where?"

"Hyde park," you tell him, showing him the pictures of their winter wonderland on your phone. "I saw the ad already for their winter wonderland today and then I looked it up and I fell into a loophole, so now we have tickets." You smiled sweetly at him - if there was one thing more important to Toto than work, it was you and your happiness.

"Are you serious, y/n?"

"Yes, now come on," you get up, trying to pull him up. Toto huffs, "I have emails to answer." He reluctantly follows you to the door.

"The emails will still be here when you get back," you handed him his coat before putting your own on. "Let's go."

Toto drives, of course - not like he ever lets you drive anyways. The first half hour was just the two of you trying to find your way around, it was a lot more packed than you were expecting but to be fair it was a week until Christmas, so it was to be expected you suppose.

You grab his hand and pull him towards what seems to be a circus tent. Toto looks at you a bit unsure for a moment, "is this.. an actual circus?" He followed you in and his question was answered; it was.

He sits next to you in the back row, the two of you waiting for the show to start. "Are you 5? Why are we at the circus ?"

"I mean, in comparison to you, I basically am." You smiled and he chuckled, his hand in yours as you two watched the show.

He would never admit it to you but he enjoyed doing things like this with you, it was nice to see that you kept a bit of your childishness alive.

After the circus, you made your way around the park once more, taking a million photos and trying out all the games until Toto was lugging around a big bag with stuffed animals.

"Do you think that's enough?" He asks, walking towards the car. You shrugged, "I guess but I'm hungry now."

"Dinner then?" He suggests, nodding to the busy street. You're not, fingers interlocking with your husband as you walk down the street towards no actual destination in mind. You were just hoping to stumble upon a place that wasn't too busy.

And eventually you did, a little restaurant tucked away between all the madness. You and Toto sat at a table by the window, the table covered in junk food and a bottle of cheap wine.

"Did you have fun tonight ?" You asked your husband, popping a fry into your mouth. He shrugs, taking a sip of wine. You can't help but roll your eyes, "you totally did! Don't lie."

Toto laughs, a grin on his face. "Yeah, okay. I did have a little fun, but maybe next time find an indoor activity?"

"Nope," you popped the P, "as your wife, it's my job to make your life unnecessarily complicated, just for fun."

He rolls his eyes, taking some fries off your plate. "You'll be the death of me."

You two ended up topping off the bottle of wine, Toto pays the bill and his fingers interlock with yours as you walk back to the car. The streets have calmed by now, but there's a few people walking around on their way to wherever.

Your husband pulls you into his side, your arm wrapped around his torso as you make it back to the car. The man has you leaning on the hood, his cold hands cupping your cheeks before he kisses you. His hands wander and you blush, stopping him.

"Not here."

"Don't tell me you're getting shy on me." He kisses along your cheek, the tip of his nose cold as it rubs against your skin.

You giggled, giving him a slight shove off of you. "We're in the middle of the street, it's more like stopping you from getting arrested for public indecency."

He laughs, opening the car door for you and letting you get in. Toto's hand rests on your thigh the entire drive back to the hotel and he can barely keep his hands off of you to make it up to the room.

His lips on your neck, arms wrapped around you from behind, the two of you giggling as you attempt to open the door.

"It's not opening," you grumbled, trying to unlock the door.

Toto pulls on the handle a bit, pressing the key to it. "Finally," he says when the lock clicks, "let me unwrap my gift."

You giggled, rolling your eyes at your husband's cheesy use of the words, but you let him drag you into the room and drop you on the bed.

He's careful, even though he's drunk - his movements are exact as he undoes the buttons on your shirt, tossing it into the pile of clothes that's developing on the floor.

"Move your legs, baby." He whispers, moving them up to rest on the edge of the bed as he drops himself down onto his knees. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Toto drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy. 

“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the red lace that covered your cunt.

You smile, “I know. Wore it just for you, daddy." The name makes the man smile.

Toto can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the red lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt. 

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him. 

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. He knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more.

Two fingers pushing into you, he glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit. 

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. 

He's sick and twisted and pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers wiped on your inner thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness. 

"I hate you," you grumbled, your husband smiles as he kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "You love me."

"Sometimes."

He smiles, standing up to undo his pants. Toto pulls you back to the edge of the bed, one of your legs hitch on his hip as his hand wanders.

Your eyes fixed on his hand that was moving down your chest at the moment. Toto's lips follow his fingers, kissing and leaving little marks as he goes along his way. His tongue brushes over your nipple, your back arches involuntarily; your body betrays you. 

Your eyes find his and his hand rubbing along your thigh before pulling you toward the edge of the bed a little more before he pushes into you. The other ankle is over his shoulder now.

He fucks you the way he knows you like it; rough.

You were a sight to see; back arched off the bed, hair sprawled out in perfect curls, eyes closed and your head tilted back, his name tumbling from your lips for what felt like the millionth time.

He’s never seen a prettiest sight.

He feels you clench around him, the hand on his shoulder digs in, your nails leaving behind their own set of marks. His hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again.

“Oh my god,” your hips bucked, his fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of him.  

“C’mon pretty girl, want you to cum for me.” he says, knowing it won't be long more, especially not after him leaving you on the edge earlier.

He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body.

"Open your eyes, baby, look at me." He whispers, kissing you softly.

A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge.  He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, he follows behind you. 

It takes you a second to gather yourself and register that your husband has collapsed on top of you. Your hands rubbing over his back.

"You okay?" you asked him quietly and the man nodded, moving so you two could lay comfortably.

Your leg draped over his, his arm wrapped over your shoulder. You catch him staring at you and you smile, nodding. "What?"

"We should come to London every year."

"Yeah," you nod, resting your head on his chest. "I'd like that."

---

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[missberrycake]

So, I know we all love the headcanon that Eddie moved in with Wayne when he was a teen or a pre-teen, be it because one or both parents died, chucked him out, are in prison, etc. But! I’ve been thinking about another option.

What if Wayne has been looking after Eddie since he was a toddler?

It all comes as a bit of a shock to Wayne who, in his early forties, had pretty much assumed he’d missed the boat on the whole ‘kids’ thing. And yet, here he is, taking in his baby nephew when his brother turns up on his doorstep one day.

When it starts, it’s only supposed to be for a short while. His brother’s wife is newly out of the picture (it’s a crying shame, Wayne had liked her, she’d stayed a gentle soul throughout) and he just needs some time to get himself sorted, right? But then a week turns into a month, turns into two months, turns into half a year and Wayne? Well, he gets attached to the kid, so sue him. 

Because little Eddie is a rambunctious boy. He’s full of gummy smiles and bubbling laughter and Wayne runs himself in circles trying to stop him from toddling into sharp corners and sockets and yards of rope. The two of them are well suited, it seems, and Wayne takes to settling Eddie on his knee in the evenings and going through the races for the next day in the paper.

Eddie chooses a winner more than once. 

Every day, when Wayne comes to pick him up from Julia’s two trailers over (he’s still got to work, something his brother hadn’t considered before he left, or maybe he didn’t care), Eddie greets him with his arms out, already chatting away with the handful of phrases that he knows. 

The boy’s hair is soft and his cheeks smooth and if Wayne gets a little sentimental when he tucks him into bed at night, then nobody else needs to know, do they?

He’s a sweet boy. He deserves someone to care for him. 

So when his brother turns up again with vague mutterings about there being some work for him down in Florida, Wayne’s chest aches. 

“What’s your plan for the littl'un?” he asks.

“Ed? Whad’ya mean?”

“I mean, have you got a place to stay lined up? Who’s gonna look after him while you’re working?”

“I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

He shrugs and Wayne feels something close to panic bubbling in his veins. When he suggests that perhaps his brother should travel ahead, get himself settled first before sending for Eddie, he doesn’t expect him to agree so readily. He can’t say he’s much surprised though. 

The entire exchange doesn’t take more than ten minutes and his brother doesn’t ask after Eddie once, doesn’t show any desire to see him, doesn’t even step inside the trailer—not one jot of fatherly affection shines through. 

It only occurs to Wayne that evening that perhaps this was the outcome his brother wanted. But, hell, it’s fine with him—he’ll let him think he’s winning. Wayne knows who’s got the real prize here. 

He doesn’t mention the visit to Eddie, the kid doesn’t need to know, too busy digging holes and collecting bugs. 

Just like he expected, his brother never sends for the boy. They get letters for the first few years, poorly wrapped and ill-thought through trinkets for the kid’s birthday and Christmas, but it’s not long until they fall by the wayside too. 

Once Eddie’s older, they have a conversation about it. Have to, really, when Eddie comes home from preschool and is full to the brim of questions, because apparently Peter Gillespie says that everyone has to have a mom and a dad, “and I know I have a mom because you’ve told me about her and I said that she’s not around and Mrs. Lang told Peter to be quiet but then I thought about it, but I don’t know, ‘cause you’re my dad, right? I know I don’t call you dad, but that’s what you are, isn’t it? Because what else would you be and Peter says I have to have one.”

It floors Wayne for a moment, but he recovers quickly. He leads Eddie to the couch where he sets him on his lap. For the next while the two of them look through all the pictures that Wayne can find of Eddie’s mom and Wayne’s brother. Wayne makes sure to hold him close and tells him it doesn’t matter that he’s ‘just’ his uncle, that he loves him as much as he would a kid of his own, that he’ll always be around to take care of him. And Eddie takes it all in his stride, in the way only children can. 

“So I can’t call you dad?” he asks.

Wayne lets out a long breath, rubs at his jaw. 

“It’s not that you can’t, kiddo, it’s just that I ain’t.“ 

Because it feels a little like stealing. What would happen, if one day his brother came back and found his kid calling Wayne ‘Dad’. If the boot were on the other foot, Wayne would be angry as all heck. And there was still time, wasn’t there? For his brother to see the error of his ways? Who was Wayne to keep all of that from Eddie? 

“Okay,” Eddie says quietly. “Uncle Wayne is still good.”

“Oh, it’s still good, is it?” Wayne crows and squeezes Eddie tight. “I’m sure glad I meet your high standards, your majesty.”

Eddie just giggles at that. He always giggles when Wayne puts on his voices. 

“And what would the esteemed gentleman like for dinner tonight, huh? The options are spaghetti hoops, spaghetti hoops, or - now let me think. Oh! Spaghetti hoops.”

The nail in the coffin comes one day in the summer of 1978, just before Eddie’s twelfth birthday. It’s been over eight years since his brother dropped him off in search of better things and sure, there have been some days where Wayne has been tearing his hair out, but through all of it he knows he made the right decision that day in the doorway of the trailer. He wouldn’t change Eddie for the world, and he knows by now that there are some out there that would, who would only see the difficult or the different in him, but isn’t that what being a parent is? Loving your kid no matter what? Seeing the good in them and helping them see it themselves?

When his brother slams the door shut on some car so shiny that Wayne wonders if it’s fresh out of the packet, he knows they’re in for some trouble. 

“Nice car, man,” Eddie whistles from where he’d been lounging on the plastic chairs out the front of the trailer. Clearly the sight of something so drenched in luxury in their neighbourhood makes it so that he just can’t help himself.

Wayne’s brother grunts in that way that he always did when they were younger, like he’d gotten away with something. 

Wayne just watches, then, as his brother nods at the book in Eddie’s hands. “A reader, are you?” he says, a joke in his voice. “What’s this? Always knew there were brains in the family somewhere.”

“It’s ‘Lord of the Rings’,” Eddie replies, uncertain. His gaze flicks to Wayne, who nods. Funny, that the kid was quiet now, he’d been ranting and raving to Wayne about that goddamn book every spare second of the week. “It’s got orcs and wizards and elves in and stuff.”

“Fairytales?” his brother scoffs. It grates on Wayne like a physical thing. “What you been doing to the boy, Wayne? Here.” He turns back to Eddie. “You know me, kid?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“I’m your old man! So you like cars, do you? Want to go for a spin in her?”

“You don’t have to Eddie. Not if you don’t want,” Wayne pipes up then. He knows his boy well enough that he can see the internal war going on behind his eyes. And, hell, it is a nice car. Eddie bites his lip and stares at Wayne, eyes wide, asking permission.

“‘Course he wants to.” And his brother is already walking back to the driver’s side door. He winks at Eddie. “Gotta lot of catching up to do, ain’t we?”

“Hold this for me?” Eddie asks and hands Wayne his book before jogging away.

There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when Wayne watches the dust trail behind the car as it leaves the trailer park. He sits out on the porch all afternoon, eyes flashing towards the road every few minutes. It isn’t until almost dusk that it careens into the park once more. 

The passenger door slams violently and Eddie stomps towards him.

“He’s not my dad,” he splutters as he pushes his face against Wayne’s shoulder. Wayne can feel where his cheeks are hot and flushed.

Cradling the back of Eddie’s head with one hand, he mutters gently, “Yeah, son, I know.”

And how had he ever thought that man could be Eddie’s father? No, Eddie may still call him ‘Uncle Wayne’, but they’ve gone well beyond that and both of them know it.

Directing Eddie back inside the trailer, Wayne sends a small nod to his brother where the man is still lingering by his car door, looking faintly murderous. 

Let him try, he thinks. No one’s taking his boy from him now, come hell or high water.

[Yeah, I'm scouring the archives and trying to salvage as many headcanons as I can from my old deleted account, but let's just pretend this is brand new content.]

[bratzforchris]

Sunflowers

Summary: Chris gets distracted easily. Like really, really easily. When he gets separated from Matt and Nick in the mall, he meets a lovely soul who understands just a little bit more than anyone else.

Pairing: ADHD!Chris x autistic!feminine reader

Warnings: Neurodivergent overstimulation, getting lost, crying, brief mentions of ableism

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: The sunflower lanyard (pictured above) signifies that someone has a hidden or invisible disability and may need extra assistance/patience/kindness. I am not saying or assuming Chris actually has ADHD. If he doesn't, cool, if he does, also cool! This is all for fun and for diversity in the fandom<3 Enjoy!!

ADHD was a difficult thing to live with. It was more than just the stereotype of “Oh look! Squirrel!”. It was a constant condition that caused a lot of impact on one’s day-to-day life and happiness. Chris knew this better than just about anyone. Having been diagnosed in middle school, he found himself on a constant pendulum between spaced out with his head all over the place and extra hyper. Though he was medicated for it, there were still days where his body and mind were consumed with extra hyperactivity and energy, meaning he could be easily distracted, rambunctious, and fidgety. 

Both Matt and Nick were aware of their younger brother’s diagnosis and were extremely supportive of it, letting Chris run wild when he needed to and gently reminding him to take his meds and do his other daily tasks now that they no longer lived with their parents. The youngest really couldn’t have asked for a better support system, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t days where his brain betrayed him for quite literally no reason. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Do you want your lanyard, Chris?” Matt asked as he grabbed his car keys off the hook near the garage door. 

The key rack held all of the boy’s keys and things they would need when they left the house, but it also held Chris’ green and yellow sunflower lanyard. These lanyards were a universal symbol that someone had a hidden or invisible disability and might need some extra kindness and assistance when they left their house. Chris had fought the idea at first, claiming that he didn’t need that; he rarely struggled in public. However, the change after he had agreed to try one due to Nick’s pleading to give it a shot had been immense. Strangers no longer looked at him like he was rude when he couldn’t help to butt in or play with his fidget toys as an adult, nor did shop owners hastily bat his hands away when he just wanted to touch things in stores. Of course, there were still bigots, but the improvement was more than he could have asked for. 

Now, Chris possessed his own sunflower lanyard, complete with a small card attached that read “I have ADHD. I can act restless and tend to fidget. I may act on impulse and have trouble concentrating. Please be patient and understanding.” and had both Matt and Nick’s names and phone numbers on it in case of an emergency. His lanyard also had a few pins, buttons, and pop-its on it so that the boy would always have something to fidget with. 

“It’s probably a good idea,” Nick added, coming down the stairs and typing out something on his phone. “Christmas is next week. The mall is going to be busy.”

Being triplets, Matt and Nick were incredibly in-tune with Chris and each other, and both boys could tell that today was going to be a more hyper, easily distracted day for their younger brother. Normally, they would’ve postponed busy, crowded spaces and must-do errands for a day where Chris was feeling more mellowed out, but they flew back home to Boston in just a few short days and had yet to buy Christmas presents for, well, anyone. 

Slowly thinking over the situation at hand, Chris grabbed his lanyard off the hook and placed it over his neck, but it wasn’t long until he had moved on to something else. “Do you guys think that there are triplets just like us?” he asked as Matt corralled him out the door. “But like, in China or something?”

The drive to the mall had been much longer than anticipated with all the holiday traffic, which allowed Chris more time to let his mind wander, blurting out every random thought he had as he played with the shark pop-it on his lanyard. Luckily, Nick quickly engaged the youngest in all his conversations so that Matt could focus, his own head spinning as he tried to keep up with Chris’ mile-a-minute chatter. 

“We should go people watching,” Chris announced as Matt parked their car inside of the heavily filled parking garage. “We could probably see some crazy shit. Speaking of which, did you guys see that episode of Live PD last night?”

Matt and Nick shared a glance over Chris’ head as they walked into the mall. The more Chris talked, the more he began to fidget, earning stares from onlookers, despite his lanyard. The mall was insanely crowded, which could either help or hurt. Somedays, Chris absolutely thrived in chaos, able to hyperfocus and get tasks done in record time. On others, his brain became so stimulated by chaos and change that he would shut down, often losing his ability to executive function in the process. Today was an absolute toss up. 

“Let the games begin.” Nick mumbled, grabbing his brothers’ hands and sliding through the crowds. 

As ‘cringy’ as it was, the triplets still held hands with each other in public, especially after Chris had received his ADHD diagnosis. Matt and Nick felt an almost protective sense over their younger brother, opting to help keep him safe when his brain didn’t always remind him to do that himself. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Things had been going fine for well over an hour now, but it was starting to become too much for Chris. They had already gotten presents for their dad and Justin, and were now on the hunt for a gift for their mother. As much as they loved and adored MaryLou, shopping for a woman as 20 year old men in a mall this crowded was a task. 

The youngest triplet was beginning to become overstimulated. His own thoughts had already been so loud and so chaotic this morning, and to add hoards of people, blaring Christmas music, screaming kids, and overwhelming smells from the food court wasn’t helping. He hadn’t meant to get separated from Nick and Chris; the boys had been poring over the jewelry counter in Macy’s when Chris dropped Nick’s hand, opting to pull his Airpods out of his pocket. Maybe if he could listen to the music he liked and that calmed him down, he could manage the rest of this trip without a meltdown. 

Chris had just slipped his earbuds in and pressed play on Life of a Dark Rose when he realized that neither Matt nor Nick was standing next to him. Not yet panicked, he looked around the floor of the department store, searching for Matt’s Red Sox hat or Nick’s blond hair above the crowd. When that didn’t work, he simply shot a quick text in their sibling group chat that read where are you guys??. Much to his discomfort, the text quickly came back with a ‘cannot be delivered’ message, making the brunette curse when he realized that the signal in the store was awful. 

“Excuse me, ma’am. Did you see where my brothers went? They have tattoos. One’s blond and has a nose ring, the other was wearing a hat?” Chris asked the lady at the jewelry counter hopefully. 

Either not noticing his lanyard or not caring, the employee turned her back to Chris, leaving him desperate. He didn’t know his way around this mall at all, his phone wasn’t working, and it was beyond crowded. How was he supposed to find Matt and Nick? What if they left without him? He couldn’t drive and he had left his wallet with Nick. How would he get home? This was just a glimpse into the anxiety that circulated through Chris’ mind whenever he became overstimulated. 

The brunette felt his eyes beginning to grow wet, cursing himself under his breath. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t cry. Not here. Chris wiped a few stray tears that were running down his cheeks and began to retreat to a quiet area of the store to contemplate his next move. The last thing he needed was for a ‘fan’ to snap a photo of him crying and overstimulated and post it online. 

The children’s toy area proved to be the perfect place for him to hide. With all the stock having been bought out for the day in the holiday rush, the department was completely empty. Chris sat down on one of the leather benches, running his hands through his hair as a stim and anxiously checking his phone in hopes of regaining signal. He was so caught up in his anxious stimming and trying not to have a meltdown, that he hadn’t even noticed someone appear beside him. 

“Are you okay? I saw your lanyard,” You offered kindly. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

Chris looked up at you, taking in your appearance. You were absolutely beautiful, dressed in a soft, sensory friendly outfit with a purple cow Squishmallow clutched to your side. That wasn’t what caught his attention, though. What truly caught his attention was the sunflower lanyard hanging around your own neck. Glancing briefly at the card, Chris noticed it read “I’m autistic”. 

“Can I sit?” You asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to the boy. 

Chris nodded, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat. “I can’t find my brothers.” he admitted tearfully. 

“Is that who’s with you?” You asked knowingly, having been in similar situations yourself. “Do you want to call them?”

“I can’t. My phone won’t send the fucking text and they were just with me and I can’t find them. What if they left me?” the more Chris talked, the upset he became, anxiously chewing on his nails. 

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay. They wouldn’t leave you. Would you like a fidget?” You pulled a tangle from your purse, holding it out for the boy to take.

Chris stared at you for a moment before tentatively taking the toy from you, instantly focusing on the colors and movement of the plastic. “...thank you.” he whispered. 

“Would it be okay if I touched you?” You asked gently. From your own experience, you knew that it was important in situations like these to ask for consent to touch someone who was overstimulated. “My lanyard has my emergency contact on it. Does yours? Maybe we can work together to find your brothers.”

Chris nodded softly, allowing you to softly look at his lanyard and identify both Matt and Nick’s phone numbers and names. By some miracle, your phone had much better service than Chris’ did, allowing you to let both brothers know where you were and that Chris was looking for them. 

“So, tell me about yourself if you want to.” You tried to make easy conversation to take the brunette’s mind off his current overstimulation and panic. 

“‘M a YouTuber,” Chris muttered softly, highly subdued. “And I like rap music and y’know, I have ADHD.” when he saw your soft, blushy smile and attentive listening, Chris became more animated. 

“I’ve always thought YouTube would be a cool job. I’m a pet sitter. I love animals so much. They’re one of my special interests.” You nodded to your cow stuffed animal. 

Chris remembered reading about the term when he was doing some self reflecting on being neurodivergent. Although he didn’t experience them himself, he knew that they were an enormous part of being autistic, and he felt grateful that you were willing to share something like that with him. 

“How did you, um, find me?” Chris asked shyly. 

“Well, I came to see if they had any stuffed animals because I love them, but instead I found you.” You smiled, fiddling with your own fidget toy. 

You and Chris continued to chat as you waited for his brothers. The difference in his personality when you first found him to now was like night and day. He had become more animated over the course of your conversation, talking with his hands, eyes aglow. You looked up when you noticed two men who looked eerily similar to Chris walk up next to you. In your head, you connected the dots that the boys must have been triplets. The blond who approached you had a hard look on his face as he noticed his brother talking to a stranger, but when his eyes caught your lanyard, he visibly relaxed. 

“Matt! Nick!” Chris squealed, leaping off the bench and pulling his brothers into a hug. 

You watched with a soft smile, thinking the sibling’s embrace was cute until the brother in the Red Sox hat turned to you. 

“Thank you,” he told you sincerely. “Thank you for helping him.”

“It’s really not a problem.” You were becoming shy under the attention, but Chris came up and wrapped his arm around you. 

“I love her,” Chris said, before blushing as he realized what he had said. “Not like that! I…I mean…” he stuttered. 

“I’ll give you my number,” You chuckled, standing on your tiptoes and kissing Chris on the cheek. “For being such a sweetheart.”

tags ♡:  @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

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[worseforwords]

The Arrangement

(Alessia Russo x Reader)

Chapter I of Marshmallow

“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?” your mom’s voice cackled through the phone. “Take your phone off your ear, mum, you’ve facetimed me,” you chuckled. “Oh, right. Hi, darling, lovely to SEE you,” she giggled at her own joke. “How are you, love? And where are you? I don’t recognise that wall behind you,” she inquired. “I’m in the changing room at Arsenal, you know, my job.” “Right, ‘course. Everything alright? How’s your g-” “Yeah, everything’s good,” you quickly interrupted her, hoping no one in the changing room caught on to what she was about to say. “I have to head to training soon, mum. Did you want anything from me?” “Right, busy woman, no time for chit-chat with her mum. Your dad and I were just wondering if we could come visit you anytime soon. We haven’t seen you since Christmas, and we would both really love to meet your girlfriend!” She said that last part with a bit too much excitement, and you were sure you saw some heads snap your way from the corner of your eye. “Ehh, yeah, I’m just a little busy at the moment with football, so I’m not sure when I’ll be free,” you said as you quickly turned down the volume of your phone. “I know, darling, but I noticed there’s no match scheduled the weekend after the next one, so you’ll be free then, right?” Another disadvantage of being a professional athlete: usually having a very public schedule. “Right, yeah, I think so. I’ll call you after training, mum.”

You hung up after both of you exchanged goodbyes and you immediately noticed a few eyes on you. One pair belonged to a smirking Katie, who quickly plumped herself down next to you. “What was that I heard? Does somebody have a new girlfriend?” “What the hell, why haven’t I heard about this?” Leah joined in. “Lotte, did you know?” Your roommate Lotte shook her head. “Haven’t seen or heard anyone at our house.” “How is that even possible?” Victoria wondered out loud. “Is it a long-distance thing?” Caitlin joined in on the conversation. By this point, you were surrounded by your teammates, gazing at you, awaiting answers, and your head was spinning, trying to come up with anything to explain your situation.

Ultimately you decided on just telling them the truth, knowing full well a lie wasn’t getting you out of this situation. “There is no girlfriend,” you said quietly. Clearly, your answer wasn’t satisfactory as everyone kept staring at you frantically. “My parents kept asking me when I would finally bring someone home because my brother and sister are both happily married or engaged homeowners starting their own families. They keep telling me not to wait until it’s too late. At Christmas, when they started again, I finally snapped. I lied and told them I have a girlfriend.” You took a quick breath before you continued. “Only it backfired because now they won’t stop asking me about her, and apparently, I have to find a girlfriend within the next week or so.” You let your head fall into your hands dramatically. There was a short silence as everyone around you processed what you had just told them. Then a loud shriek as Katie burst out laughing. “Oh boy, you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, mate!” she shouted. “Good luck with that.”

The next few minutes were filled with everyone either light-heartedly teasing your situation or attempting to play matchmaker and find you a girlfriend, which you knew was futile with only 10 days to go. This was precisely why you avoided going on dates. All the unwarranted attention and people meddling in your life, you didn't need it. You’d rather concentrate on the love of your life that you did have some control over: football. Fortunately, Kim took her captaincy very seriously and summoned everyone out of the changing room for training to begin, but not before sending you a sympathetic smile as you mouthed a quick “thank you” to her.

Training went by swiftly, and afterward, some of the girls gathered at Beth and Viv’s for dinner. You sat on the sofa with Laura and Viv as Alessia was directing Vic in the kitchen, and Beth was setting the table. “So, Y/N, are you going to tell your parents the truth about your girlfriend... or lack thereof?” Laura asked. “I don’t know; it’ll be so embarrassing. And I definitely won’t be able to hold off on them trying to set me up with their neighbour’s son, who is studying to be a doctor, or my mum’s colleague’s daughter who’s in law school.” You imitated your mom as you talked about the people your parent wanted to set you up with before dramatically making a barf gesture. “But what else can you do?” Viv asked. “Let’s see... Fake my own death and start a new life elsewhere? Start studying robotics and learn to design my own robot girlfriend? Pretend I’ve got short-term memory loss and have forgotten who my own girlfriend is?”

“Okay, I need to join in on this, scoot,” Beth waved her hands, gesturing for you to move over. “The fact that you thought of building a robot girlfriend before considering finding an actual girlfriend is insane,” she said, almost like she was scolding you. “I get it,” mumbled Viv as Beth immediately sent her a stern glare to which she responded with by blowing her a quick kiss. “I don’t want a relationship right now. Besides, 10 days is way too little time to find someone,” you said, ignoring their antics. “Fine, have it your way, go with the robot. Vic can help you; she’s studied maths,” she joked as she got up again. “Excuse me,” Vic got involved from the kitchen. “Which of my subjects do you think is about robot girlfriends?” She giggled. “I say go with the Dory thing.”

“Vic, stir this sauce for a bit, please,” Alessia spoke sternly as she turned towards all of you. “Okay, I can’t believe no one has thought of this, but the solution is very simple. You just find someone who can pretend to be your girlfriend for the weekend your parents visit,” she explained as all of you listened. “Yes! Less, that’s a perfect plan,” Beth exclaimed. “But who should it be? Maybe you can hire an actor!” She added as you seriously considered this option for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know, seems kind of risky if they don’t really know me,” you said. 

“Yeah, you should probably pick a friend, someone you’ve known for a while and who knows what you’re up to these days,” Laura stated. “Sooo, maybe a teammate?” Vic suggested. “Yes!” Beth shouted again. “A teammate. But who? Obviously not someone who is openly dating someone else already, so me and Viv are out,” she then stated more calmly. “Laura and I can’t make it either, we’re going out with the Aussies, remember?” Vic asked as Laura nodded.

A silence fell as everyone sort of stared at Alessia, who was too focused on her cooking to notice. “Less?” Beth caught her attention, making her jump a little when she noticed everyone’s hopeful gazes fixated on her. “Are you available?” she asked. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll do it.” Alessia sent you a quick smile before continuing to make dinner. “That settles it then,” Beth said, giving you no say in the matter whatsoever. If you were being honest, though, you were just glad you had found somewhat of a solution to your problem. Besides, you didn’t know Alessia that well, the two of you usually being in different friend groups within the team and you had been intrigued to get to know her better for a while now.

The next few days in training everyone was mostly focussed on the game ahead. Some new pieces of gossip flooded the changing room and much to your delight, you and your love life were left unspoken of. It almost seemed a bit too good to be true, and you were now starting to worry it had all been a joke that you took too seriously. After all, the whole plan was a bit insane, definitely unlike anything you had ever done before. Were you just too desperate to notice that it was all banter?

"Everything alright, Y/N?” Alessia's voice jolted you from your mental spirals. “You seem a bit distracted.” “Yeah, all good. My mind just wandered for a second.” You feigned a smile. “Okay.” She returned the smile. “Hey, Alessia,” you began before she could exit the changing room. “Can I talk to you for a second?” “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” She settled herself beside you.

“So, you know about our crazy fake girlfriend plan, and—” “Correction, it’s my crazy plan, not ‘our’. My idea.” She interjected with a satisfied expression. “Right, your crazy plan. Anyhow, I realise you were put on the spot when Beth asked if you were available. I just wanted to say you don’t have to do it; I can find someone else,” you spoke hesitantly. “Oh no, I want to do it. Unless you’d prefer someone else, of course.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” you quickly clarified. “Alright then, let’s do it.” You offered a shy smile. “Ehh, I hope that’s not how you planned on asking me,” she giggled. You shot her an ‘are you serious?’ look. She responded with what you assumed was her best ‘yes, I’m serious, how dare you even question that’ expression. “Give me one second.”

You darted around the corner, returning a few seconds later with a ring made from bright blue kinesiology tape. “Alessia Russo, will you do me the honour of being my fake girlfriend for the weekend?” you proposed, getting down on one knee before her. “Yes, YES, a thousand times yes!” She dramatically pretended to swoon as you slid the makeshift ring onto her finger.

“Right, so my parents will be visiting from Friday night until Sunday, most likely,” you swiftly changed the subject, attempting to avoid any blush creeping onto your cheeks. “But you don’t have to be there for the entire duration, of course. If you could just pop in for a bit on Saturday, that would be great,” you suggested. “Oh, well I don’t really have any other plans because I assumed this would be an all-weekend kind of thing,” she replied softly, and you felt the warmth in your cheeks intensify. “And Dan is out of town anyway.”

Right, Dan. Her boyfriend. You were aware of him, you had met him – this wasn’t new information. So why did you suddenly feel a knot tightening in your stomach at Alessia mentioning him? “So, what do you want me to be like?” She brought you back from your thoughts. “What do you mean?” You asked. “I mean, how do you want me to be around your parents? We’ve got to impress them, right?” She explained. “Oh, just be yourself. They’ll love you. I know they will,” you assured her as she got up from the bench, ready to go warm up.

“Whatever happened in here?” Leah asked as she entered the changing room, followed by some other girls, right after Alessia had left. “What do you mean?” You inquired. “Well, Less just almost walked into me; she was all flustered and smiley, and now here you are, looking all flustered and upset,” she explained. “Nothing happened. I’m not upset. Just a bit nervous about my parents visiting and everything,” you lied. Either Leah didn’t notice or she decided to let you off the hook, but either way, she didn’t ask any further questions about it. As one of your best friends, Leah knew you very well, and she also knew that questioning you in a room full of people was the worst thing she could do to you. 

“So is Less still coming?” Beth inquired. “Yes,” you mumbled, not wanting everyone to get involved again, but with no success. “Less?” Katie jumped in. “Why would she come?” Luckily, Beth came to your aid and explained the whole situation to everyone there so you didn’t have to.

“That’s a great plan,” Katie finally spoke. “But how will we make it believable?” “I’m sorry, we?” You tried to interrupt. “We should quiz them!” Beth suggested loudly, ignoring you entirely. “What is happening?” You mumbled to Leah who just laughed at you in response. “Yes! Lotte, can you come up with some questions about Less, and Leah, you can do the same for Y/N.” 

Somehow, everyone had agreed on the quiz idea, and once again, you had no say in it. On Wednesday night, a few of the girls gathered at Lotte and your place to prepare you and Alessia for the weekend. The anticipation in the air was as thick as the excitement before a big match. Tables were set up, and a stack of papers with questions lay in the centre. Lotte, with her mischievous smile, and Leah, ever ready for a good laugh, were the architects of this grand interrogation.

You, Alessia, and the rest of the team settled in around the living room. The atmosphere was a mix of nerves and amusement, everyone eager to see how this plan would unfold. Beth, who put on an oversized blazer and a bright red Arsenal bowtie for the occasion, took charge, announcing the rules with a theatrical flourish.

“Alright, everyone! Welcome to the Ultimate Fake Girlfriend Quiz Night!” She exclaimed, earning a round of laughter. “We’ve got questions about Y/N for Alessia and questions about Alessia for Y/N. Let’s see how well our fake couple knows each other.” The room erupted into cheers. Lotte, holding a list of questions about Alessia, winked at you. Leah, armed with questions about you, looked equally mischievous.

The first round began, and Leah fired off questions about you. Alessia, to everyone’s surprise, answered with remarkable accuracy. “Alright, Alessia,” Leah said with a smirk, “what’s Y/N’s guilty pleasure snack?”

Alessia pondered for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. “Chocolate-covered pretzels. She hides them in the back of a cabinet, but I always find them.” Laughter filled the room. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Alessia, impressed and slightly amused that she had picked up on your secret indulgence. Apparently her close friendship with your roommate had given her quite an advantage.

Lotte, taking her turn, quizzed you about Alessia’s life. “What’s Alessia’s weirdest talent?” she asked with a sly grin. You thought for a moment, realising Alessia had shared a few quirky skills in the changing room. “She can do this weird thing with her tongue, like roll it into a clover shape. It’s bizarrely impressive.”

Alessia blushed, seemingly surprised that you remembered such a minor detail. The room erupted into cheers again. As the quiz progressed, Alessia consistently demonstrated an uncanny knowledge of your habits and likes. It seemed like she had been paying much more attention than you thought.

The highlight came when Leah, with a devious smile, presented the final question: “What’s Y/N’s weirdest habit in the morning?” Alessia, grinning confidently, answered, “She talks to herself in the mirror while doing her hair. Full-on conversations with her own reflection.” Your face turned crimson, and a chorus of laughter echoed through the room. You shot Alessia a playful glare.

The quiz ended and the consensus was clear — Alessia and you knew each other surprisingly well, considering this was supposed to be a fake relationship. However, Katie, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist stirring the pot.

She leaned forward with a teasing grin. “So, you two aced the quiz, but do you even have any chemistry?” Her question hung in the air, causing a collective intake of breath from the spectators. Alessia looked at you, a subtle uncertainty in her eyes. “Seriously, guys, you need to up your game. You look way too platonic.”

Your teammates, now fully invested in your fake romance, decided to play relationship coaches. “Alright, stand up,” Beth commanded. “Let’s see how you two handle physical proximity. Hug. Now.” You and Alessia exchanged a glance, both feeling a bit awkward. You hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping your arms around each other. The teammates observed and then erupted into a chorus of opinions.

“Too stiff!”

“More like you mean it!”

“Look into each other’s eyes, not the ceiling!”

You and Alessia shared an amused yet bewildered look. The teammates continued their analysis, discussing everything from hand-holding techniques to the positioning of your bodies. It was like a crash course in relationship theatrics. “Alright, sit down,” Beth commanded again. “You two are sitting too far apart. Scoot closer.”

As you and Alessia moved to sit side by side, Steph suggested, “Try a more casual touch. Like, Y/N, put your hand on Alessia’s leg.” Panic flashed across your face, but you complied, very carefully placing your hand on Alessia’s leg. The room erupted into laughter again.

“Okay, she said casual, Y/N. She’s not made of thin glass now is she?” Beth joked, and Alessia chuckled as you adjusted your grip, secretly wanting to disappear into the couch. The teammates continued to give advice, critiquing every move and gesture. Amidst the laughter and chaos, Laura suggested, “You guys should try the 36 Questions. You know, that study that makes people fall in love?”

That mention drew curious looks from you and Alessia. Beth explained, “People say you’ll fall in love if you answer them honestly with someone. It could help you two look more... well, in love.” The idea was met with a mix of enthusiasm and skepticism. “Homework for our fake couple!” Beth declared, and everyone laughed.

As the evening wound down, the teammates left your place. Everyone but Alessia, who offered to help you clean the place up. Lotte went to bed, leaving you and your now approved ‘fake girlfriend’ with a newfound list of relationship do’s and don’ts, along with the prospect of a homework assignment that promised to make your fake relationship more convincing.

“So… I guess we’ve got some homework to do,” you said, feeling very awkward all of a sudden now that it was just you two. You then realised you had never really hung out together without at least one other person being there. “Yeah, 36 questions,” she started as she grabbed her phone. “Do you believe in this?”

“No of course not,” you said, ever the sceptic. “But I do believe Katie is gonna murder us if we don’t do our homework. Both of you exchanged glances like, ‘Are we really doing this?’ and rolled your eyes in silent agreement that this was a bit of a silly experiment.

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She read the first question from her phone, immediately gazing at the ceiling as if in thought about her answer. “I bet yours would be Michael Jordan,” you said. “Hey, I’m asking you about your answer not mine!” She giggled as she elbowed your shoulder. 

“Fine, let me think. Do they have to be alive?” You wondered. “I mean I guess it says ‘anyone’, so if you want to have dinner with a corpse, by all means,” she chuckled. “No, not like that, ew,” you now elbowed her. “I just mean I would love to have dinner with my grandma. She’s sacrificed so much for our family, but I only ever knew her as a child so I’ve never been able to thank her for it.” Still in thought you stared at your feet for a bit until you realised it had been quiet for a while in your living room. 

“Sorry,” you said, quickly looking up and finding Alessia’s eyes already on you with a look you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll just go with Beyoncé, she’d be a cool dinner guest,” you quickly changed your answer. “No, no, that was really sweet. I bet your grandma would love to have dinner with you too. And I’m sure she knew you’d be grateful,” she said softly, her eyes remaining on yours. “Yeah well, you just called her a corpse so that idea is kind of ruined for me now,” you teased. “No I didn’t!” She protested.

The first couple of questions were mostly light and you chuckled at each other’s silly answers. However, as you continued down the list, the questions became increasingly deep and personal and as eye-rolls turned into thoughtful pondering, you both found yourselves sharing way more than you had expected. 

Alessia’s responses were open and honest as she shared stories about her childhood dreams, the hurdles in her football journey, and her aspirations beyond the pitch. One question, in particular, struck a chord: “If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?” Alessia’s response was heartfelt. “I’d want to be fearless. Not just on the field, but in life. There are times when I feel held back by my own doubts and fears. I’d love to face everything without that weight.”

Her openness made it easy for you to share your own dreams and fears. The conversation flowed easily, moving through topics of love, aspirations, and personal histories. It felt like something shifted between the two of you. Alessia was no longer just a teammate or a fake girlfriend to you. She was someone you could talk to, someone you felt a genuine connection with and you had a newfound appreciation for her.

By the time you had finished the first set of questions you finally looked at the time. “Oh my god, Alessia, it’s 2 am!” You both jumped up. Two hours had passed since everyone had left and you had an early training the next morning. “Really? How did that happen. I should run then,” she said.

“Hey, do you want to stay over?” You asked as you immediately noticed her questioning expression. “In the guest room I mean. Just cause we have an early training tomorrow and I don’t want you to be exhausted.” You quickly added. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” She smiled shyly at you. “Okay, be right back.” You stated as you sprinted towards your bedroom.

You returned a few minutes later with a bunch of stuff in your arms. “Here’s an unused toothbrush, towels are in the bathroom cabinet, and I didn’t know what you like to sleep in so here’s some shorts, joggers, a t-shirt and a hoodie. Wear whatever you want.” You rambled nervously as she chuckled. “Thank you Y/N. Good night.”

The next morning, your alarm blared, pulling you from the depths of sleep. Groggily, you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Training awaited, and as you yawned your way through the morning routine, the events of the previous night flashed in your mind. You couldn’t help but glance at Alessia, who was already up, seemingly more awake than you were. She flashed you a tired yet friendly smile. “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Morning,” you replied, trying to shake off the remnants of your dreams. The two of you exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the peculiar situation you found yourselves in.

As you headed to training together, you couldn’t ignore the amused glances from your teammates. Alessia, clad in your training gear because she hadn’t brought her own, was the target of playful banter. “Nice walk of shame, Alessia!” Katie teased, eliciting laughter from others. “You two look tired, looks like our chemistry experiments worked a little too wel!” Quipped Beth, pointing out the bags under both your eyes.

Training progressed as usual, but not without the occasional teasing from one of your teammates. You knew none of them really meant anything by it though. Everyone knew it was just a bit and that the two of you were no more than friends. And so did you, cause that was the deal, right? 

“You know,” Alessia began when the two of you were alone for a second after Katie asked her when you were planning your next sleepover, “despite all the teasing and the fake girlfriend stuff, I’m kind of enjoying getting to know you better.” You felt your cheeks starting to flush as you took in her genuine smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s strange how these things work out.” You tried your best to reciprocate her smile without blushing too hard. What on earth was happening to you?

The day went by swiftly as the prospect of having Alessia around as your fake girlfriend all weekend had you slowly spiral into a nervous wreck. When Friday afternoon finally arrived, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror as you went over the many things that could go wrong. What if your parents didn’t believe it? What if they did? What would that even mean? What if she never even showed up cause who were you to think she would do something like that for you? What if her boyfriend got mad? What if she suddenly started liking you, for real? What if she didn’t?

You splashed water in your face, desperately trying to stop your mind from spiralling, and more specifically to erase those last thoughts. Where was your mind coming up with all this none-sense? Was there something more to this? Another splash. No. None-sense. You groaned as you watched drops of water trickle down your face. 

“Y/N? Everything okay?” You heard Lotte’s voice call out from the other side of the locked bathroom door. “Less is here.” You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself. “Be right there!”

“You’re early,” is the first thing you said when you came out of the bathroom after quickly drying yourself off and fixing your hair. “Nice to see you too.” A kindly smiling Alessia appeared once you opened the door. “Thought I’d help you prepare before your parents show up. Hey, are you okay?” She gazed at you as if she was examining your current state. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, hi, thank you for being here.” You opened up your arms as an invitation for a hug which she accepted immediately.

“Allright, lovebirds, I’m out.” Lotte said, suitcase in hand as she hugged you both goodbye, leaving for a little romantic getaway with her boyfriend. “Have fun!” You both shouted at the same time as she closed the door behind herself.

You spent the next hour or so getting the house ready for your parent’s arrival and providing Alessia with all the necessary information on your family, as if you were doing a last minute study session for an exam.

Then, a knock on the door echoed through the house, signalling the arrival of your parents. A surge of nerves shot through you as you exchanged a quick glance with Alessia. You both took a deep breath, steeling yourselves for the upcoming performance. “Ready?” Alessia whispered, and you nodded, though your heart was doing a drumroll in your chest.

-> Chapter II

[sargeantposting]

A Logan Sargeant Primer: Part I (2000 - 2015)

Logan grows up in a ritzy suburb of Fort Lauderdale called Lighthouse Point with his parents and his older brother, Dalton.

The Sargeants don't have a deep motorsport history. Dalton and Logan get their first go-karts for Christmas in 2006, a gift from their father after their mother refuses to let her children ride dirt bikes anymore. Logan tells the NYT that:

“No one in the family was really even that much into racing. We just picked it up as a hobby, something to do on the weekend.”

The two brothers get more serious as the years go by-- within a few years, they're racing competitively. They both do well. Logan finishes in third place in only his first year of racing, and wins two titles in his second. 

Unfortunately, they figure out fairly quickly that there isn’t much more room to advance in American karting:

My older brother, Dalton, and I had been racing for a few years, and it had gotten to the point where we were asking around about where the next best level of competition was, and everybody was saying the same thing…. It was always Europe, Europe, Europe, Europe. To the point where my parents really started to think about it. At first it was just this idea, like Maybe we’ll move to Europe, who knows. I was just a kid overhearing stuff, so I didn’t know how serious the conversation must have been until this day I’ll never forget.

The conversation gets serious in 2012, when Logan’s dad, Daniel, asks the two if they want to move to Switzerland:

It was summer, and we were out to lunch. It was me, my dad, and Dalton. [...] So we’re at this restaurant, right? Chowing down on burgers (my favorite), and my dad gets to asking us about racing. Finally, he’s like, “What do you guys think? Do you really want to race in Europe? Are you 100% sure about this?” Me being 11 and naive, I was like, “Yeah sure.”  Looking back on it, I think I was lucky I was that young and that I didn’t really know what I was signing up for. All the different ways it could change my life, the level of sacrifice it would require from my whole family. Because if I had known, I don’t know if I would’ve made the same decision so easily. It all happened fast, like in the movies. One minute, it’s Christmas, I’m six, and me and Dalton are yelling at the top of our lungs, excited about the two karts sitting in the driveway, pointed diagonally at each other like in a magazine. Next minute, I’m 11 and Dalton’s 14. We’re sitting at the table eating lunch with my dad, and it’s decided — our family’s moving to Europe.

When Logan tells the same story in GQ in 2023, he says:

I was always just going with the flow. For me it was just: sure.

The Sergeant family leaves for Switzerland just as Logan finishes up fifth grade. While Logan always talks about the family move to Switzerland in the context of his parents making sacrifices for his career, it's a little more complicated than that.

 GQ’s profile steps around the subject, briefly mentioning that “in addition to the racing opportunities, [Logan’s] Dad had business there.” Unfortunately, business would be an understatement. 

At the time, Logan’s dad, Daniel, worked for the family business– an asphalt trading and shipping company named Sergeant Marine. One of the driving forces behind Sergeant Marine’s success would be Daniel’s older brother, Harry. 

When Logan’s detractors mention his family’s connections to Trump, they’re usually referencing Harry. The NYT describes his billionaire uncle as “a former [Top Gun] fighter pilot and onetime finance chair of Florida’s Republican Party who has been sued by the brother-in-law of King Abdullah II of Jordan and whose name turned up, tangentially, in the 2020 impeachment of former President Donald J. Trump. (Harry was not accused of any wrongdoing.)” 

Harry would leave the company around the time Daniel moved his family to Switzerland. According to The Florida Phoenix, “The entire family was embroiled in a long-running bitter series of lawsuits that ended with a 2015 bankruptcy settlement. Harry III walked away with a cool $56-million. In return he gave up any claim to ownership of Sargeant Marine and other family companies. There were 14 different lawsuits in several states in addition to the bankruptcy. The lawsuits produced salacious testimony that could only arise in a vicious dispute between millionaires. Harry III accused his brother Daniel of spending millions on his sons’ pursuits of race car driving and other ventures. Meanwhile, Daniel accused Sargeant III of being a spendthrift on things such as a $7.5-million mansion, private jets and exotic cars.”

Logan with his dad.

It would, somehow, get worse:

Oil and asphalt mogul Harry Sargeant III claims that industrial design plans along with recordings of "private consensual relations" were purloined from his private email account and traded off to a corporate intelligence agent as part of a years-long smear campaign against him spearheaded by his brother. Reigniting a long-running saga of brother-against-brother litigation, Harry Sargeant III claims that hundreds of pages of business records, personal discussions and "extremely sensitive videos and photographs" were illegally obtained from his email account. The material was used as currency for information-bartering between his brother Daniel Sargeant and a corporate intelligence chief at the nonparty legal service firm Burford, the lawsuit alleges. Harry is demanding damages for alleged invasion of privacy on the part of Daniel. The brothers had in years past worked together on managing the Sargeant family's global oil and asphalt empire, before intra-family disputes began to tear them apart. [...] The lawsuit claims the Burford investigator, a former corporate attorney, knows Harry well. According to the court documents, the investigator for years worked as an enforcement agent on a $28 million judgment secured against Harry by the king of Jordan's brother-in-law Mohammad Al-Saleh, who accused Harry of cutting him out of a deal to distribute oil to troops in the Iraq War. [...] Harry claims brother Daniel gave the corporate intelligence agent the treasure trove of Harry's emails  in exchange for inside information that would help the Sargeant family's asphalt company Latin American Investments in a separate multimillion-dollar legal dispute. Harry's underlying email account ran on a server of the family company Sargeant Marine. When he was ousted from the Sargeant empire, Harry had been told that the account was cut off at the root and all information in it had been destroyed, the lawsuit says. The lifted emails were instead provided to an "untold number of people" inside and outside of the family businesses in 2016, the lawsuit claims.

The information that Daniel traded his brother’s sex tape for would end up being useless. Daniel is currently out a $5 million bond and awaiting sentencing for the foreign bribery and money laundering charges he pled guilty to back in 2019. After bribing officials in three South American countries to secure asphalt contracts, the Department of Justice ended up making an example of the company– and Daniel– for violating the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act. 

While Logan cites his career as a big reason for the family move, it appears that Sargeant Marine had conveniently made shell companies in Switzerland to aid in their illegal business dealings that same year.

Logan, blissfully unaware of any drama, tries to make the most of the big move. They move to Lugano, Switzerland– Dalton and Logan go to the American School on weekdays and race on the weekends in the European junior circuit, bouncing them between Italy, Switzerland and Britain. In GQ, Logan says:

“I definitely felt like school was a lot more challenging than in Florida,” he recalled. “And we were missing a lot of school, for sure, but that’s part of it with racing. It is what it is.”

Logan loves Switzerland. In his Players’ Tribune article, he says:

We moved into a three-bedroom apartment. It was me, my parents, Dalton, and our dog Roxy, the world traveler. Big difference from Florida. We had a whole new life. I loved Switzerland. I had a lot of good friends at my school there. I can’t explain it, but I just felt more a part of things. Me and my friends were big Chelsea fans, and we’d be hanging out, playing soccer all the time. We played Call of Duty like every other kid in the world.

However… Logan is the only one. Daniel is out doing shady asphalt deals around the world and suing his brother. Dalton moves back to Florida after a year-and-a-half. Their mother follows soon after that. Logan ends up living alone at the school: 

Dalton was my older brother, so for as far back as I can remember, I was chasing him. Man, we fought all the time. Every race, we were up against all these other kids, but he was always the one I was really trying to beat. But the thing is, when you’re a kid you miss things. You just can’t see everything so clearly. Like, for instance, being a bit older than me, I think he felt the shift more strongly when we moved, but I didn’t know it. He stayed in Switzerland for a year and a half, did some European karting, and started testing Formula cars. Then one day he just decided he wanted to go home and race in America. I won’t lie, that was a shock at the time. But I get it more now. Making that big life change was hard on my mom, too. Just think, you’re living in this brand new place, don’t have many friends. Me and Dalton were at school all day. My dad was traveling all over the place with work, so he was hardly there. The reality is, she was on her own a lot. So she ended up going back to Florida, too. For about a year and a half after that, it was just me. I was living at the school during that time.

When talking about how his mom moved back to Florida while Logan was living alone in Europe as a teenager, he told the Players’ Tribune that:

Looking back on everything, I just see all the sacrifices they made, and it means so much. No matter what they were going through, my family always pushed me to keep going. I feel like that was probably the hardest for my mom, especially. She means the world to me. She’s a bit of a worrier too, and overthinks. I think I get that from her. She’s always been the person I could go to when I was doubting myself. So I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for her to encourage me to keep going, when I know she probably wanted our family to be together. I’m really grateful, not only that they believed in me that much, to move our entire family, but that they took my passion for driving seriously enough not to let me give it all up.

While Logan’s personal life may be troubled, his karting career is doing exceptionally well. In 2014, he wins the prestigious SuperNats18 in Vegas:

Infinity Sports Management, Facebook - SARGEANT DOMINATES IN LAS VEGAS. Logan Sargeant produced a stunning display last weekend in the TAG Junior category at the Supernationals race in Las Vegas. After finishing runner up in the race in 2013 Logan was eager to go one better this year and bring home the winners trophy. Although Logan got pipped in qualifying he still managed to win every heat ensuring he would start from pole position for the final on Sunday. From there he kept the lead and came home 5.6 seconds clear of the second driver. With this win in TAG Junior Logan become the first driver ever to win the TAG Cadet and TAG Junior categories at the Supernationals race.

2015 manages to be even more exceptional. Logan starts the season by being the first North American driver to win a WSK event by winning the WSK Champions Cup in La Conca, Italy.

Logan with his mother after winning the WSK Champions Cup.

The season reaches its peak with Logan becomes the first American to win an FIA Karting World Championship, the top junior series, since Lake Speed in 1978.

He gets to go to the FIA Awards:

Logan: And I couldn’t thank my mechanic enough. And also my parents, uh, they really helped me to be able to win the world championship and it’s just an amazing feeling. Interviewer: I mean, did you, did you, what did you do when you found out you won? Did you call your friends at home? Did you phone your grandpa? What did you get up to? Logan: Uh, no, I just gave my mom and dad a really big hug. Interviewer: Is it still sinking in now? Logan: Yeah, it’s, it’s a really emotional thing. [...] Interviewer: Tell me about when you were a little bit younger than you are now. You’re only 14 now. But why racing, why, why is this so important to you? Logan: Um, well, my dad bought me a, a racing kart when I was five years old and we started from there. We thought it would just be like a little hobby and, uh, it ended up becoming like a professional thing we did. So. Interviewer: So, so was there a moment when you, when you or your dad just thought ‘Wow, I’m quick. I can do this’? Logan: Um, well, not really. We just kept progressing and then, um, when we, when we decided to come to Europe to race, um, we moved to Switzerland and from then on we were just, uh, going to school, I started going to school in Switzerland. And, yeah, and then we just kept going and then ended up like this. Interviewer: Do you have any other hobbies? Can you fit anything else in? Logan: Um, well, other than school it’s really hard. But when I get my breaks and I go back to Florida for, um, I like to go fishing a lot and, yeah, that’s what I do. Mostly. 

When interviewed after his win, Logan tells kart360 that:

Moving away from home is a very hard thing in your own personal life. You lose all of your best friends. You don’t have your "home" and you have to adapt to a different culture. It is hard to move to a country that speaks a different language than what you know, but racing is so important to me that I stuck through it and kept on going.

Logan clearly struggles on a personal level. He discusses his feelings in his Players’ Tribune article, saying: 

Coming up racing as a kid isn’t easy. That’s the most honest way I can put it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said to myself, I’m done. I’m ready to come home. I’m glad I didn’t, but there were plenty of times when I wanted to. I remember one big time was the summer right after Dalton went back. We took this trip to the Bahamas with some of our extended family and friends. We were on the water, and everything was feeling like old times. And I think I just had this pit in the bottom of my stomach, like dreading going back. There was a night when I went to my mom, and I was like, “I’m just ready to come home.” I remember her asking me more questions about what I was feeling. I don’t even remember what I said, to be honest. I just remember that she didn’t tell me what to do. She left it completely up to me. My dad used to always say, “If you put in the work now, it’ll pay off eventually — it’ll be worth it.” And he kind of reminded me of that on that trip too. It’ll be worth it. Those four little words … that’s what kept me going. After that I sucked it up, went back to Switzerland, put my head down, and I went for it."

When Logan makes the jump to single seaters the next year, his parents rent him an apartment to live in by himself in London. The only time he’ll spend more than a few weeks in the US since he was a 12-year old would be during COVID.

But Logan’s time in single seaters will be for the next installment.

Logan through the years.

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (07)

chapter seven: built to break

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; the gorlies are fighting...?, not much for warnings in this chapter ig word count: 4.3k note: i finally got off my ass and wt is finally back lol. i had a last minute change of plans and thought "oh! you know what would be pretty neat? if we prolong the angst so everyone can be sad for longer!" <3 and this is how i announce that the next chapter is not wt8 but wt7.5 and it's written from his pov <3 merry christmas

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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I’ll hold my breath as I wait for your answer I’ll leave it up to you Tell me whether it’s yes or no Baby, love me or leave me tonight

Love Me or Leave Me - Day6

The warning signs, they're there. You can see them before they materialize. You know your own tells.

Your metaphorical bags are packed, your shoes are already on. You're about to run again, leave a half empty house before it has the chance to become a home. No one has to tell you that you're a flight risk; you're well aware of it yourself.

Wednesday Min: got plans tonight? You: booked and busy with ze old canvas Min: tomorrow? You: same thing probably. sorry Min: u're working hard lately You: yeah this one is just driving me crazy and i need it to turn out decent Min: it'll be perfect. it's u

Thursday Min: running errands at the store Min: want me to bring u anything? that caramel popcorn u like?

Friday Min: don't work too hard. remember to eat

That was three days ago, the last time you'd heard from him after you left him on read. It wasn't a complete lie; this project is driving you kinda crazy and you do need it to end up a decent piece, but you weren't exactly holed up in your apartment to slave over your painting. And you suppose Minho didn't find it all that suspicious because you tend to do this sometimes - disappear for a couple of days and force yourself to focus whenever you had a project to finish, before you come back to everybody again. You've come back to him before; it stands to reason that you'll do it again.

It's been about two weeks since you'd seen him, though the memories of that evening are still fresh in your mind - the evening of the group dinner, when he'd kissed you goodnight and left for his parents' house the following day. True to his words, he did send you pictures of the cats - ones of Soonie wearing a matching hoodie with him, a few of Doongie and Dori napping at the foot of his bed. There was an accompanying text - The kids miss you - along with a frowning emoji, and it made you wonder if what he really meant was I miss you.

You wanted him to miss you, because you missed him too.

The photos brought a smile to your face despite the predicament you found yourself in. A smile that was short lived, a smile that was soon wiped off when you realized your heart shouldn't be swelling with that much affection for him. It shouldn't, but the truth was that it did and you don't know how to live with it.

Love isn't something you've ever learned to hold.

It's beautiful yet full of thorns, and your hands are too clumsy to ever keep it from slipping from your fingers.

You remember when you first met Minho. Freshman year, at some popular senior's house party.

It feels like forever ago when you were just an awkward freshman at orientation who didn't have a single clue on how to make friends. Jess was your first friend in college, and you'll always be grateful that you got along well enough that she adopted you into the group with the rest of the guys.

You didn't cross paths with Minho until you were already acquainted with everyone else. On the night of the party, you remember being enamored with him for those couple of hours, and it wasn't the side effect of too many solo cups of cheap beer. Who in their right mind wouldn't be infatuated with him? He was beautiful, absolutely alluring, and you would always tell him as much.

Back then, he had brown hair, slighter shorter than now but it was tinted with the most gorgeous shade of red. You didn't know much about Minho, only been told that he was pretty quiet and might be off-putting to new people. It was sort of true; that night, you were intimidated by the aura he exuded. Mysterious, couldn't be bothered, didn't seem to give a shit. He looked like a scary little thing, while you were the new kid who was only trying to observe everyone's dynamics, not wanting to overstep any unspoken boundary.

To this day, you're still not sure what really happened, how you two immediately clicked and he's been one of the most important parts of your life ever since.

Maybe it was just him. Maybe it's always been him.

Minho, the one who makes you smile when all you want to do is curl up and cry. The one who makes you laugh when you look for joy but the search comes up empty. The one who grounds you every time you lose your way. Your anchor, the safe harbor you can always return to. The light at the end of a long, long tunnel.

You don't know where you stand, don't know where it goes from here now that everything is changing. He told you so himself, that nothing changed for him, but how could he possibly know that everything is changing for you? And it infuriates you to no end because you don't even have anyone to talk about this with. You're the only person whose world is being turned upside down after all.

You can't tell your friends because they can't know about you and Minho. You can't tell Minho because what would you even say? That you think you're in love with him? That the implications of what it means are devastating to you?

For the first time, you regret everything. Kissing him that night, sleeping with him, becoming whatever this is with him. Letting down your guard and falling for him somewhere along the way and you didn't even stop to notice it. You regret all of the decisions you've made up until now, because they've only led you to the point of no return, the point of losing him. You made bad decision after bad decision after bad decision, until you couldn't anymore. All along, there's been no one else to blame but you.

Maybe it hasn't happened yet, but it's inevitable. You will lose him. You are going to lose him.

There's no other ending, no other alternative that you can imagine. You're going to leave because you're a coward and it's what you do best. You ruin things before they get a chance to hurt you. You leave because if you don't leave then you'll be left behind, and you'd rather not bear the brunt of it.

Now, when you think of Minho, the thought is always accompanied by a painful reminder - Nothing changed for him.

When you get to the cafe, Hyunjin and Seungmin are already seated in a corner booth, three drinks in front of them, one of which they'd ordered for you before you arrived.

You slide into the seat next to Hyunjin, smiling at him appreciatively for the drink. There's still over half an hour before you have to walk to your shared class, over half an hour before Seungmin parts ways with you two to do whatever or whoever it is that Seungmin does on his off days.

"I still think it's Nara," Hyunjin says, casually sipping his iced coffee.

"Nara from your Lit class last semester?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"I saw them talking at a party once."

"Okay. And?"

"And what? That's it."

"That's... all the evidence you have to back up your claim?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

You wave your hands in front of them. "What are you bozos talking about?"

"He’s still trying to figure out who Minho is hooking up with," Seungmin is the one who answers you without missing a beat, then he turns back to Hyunjin. "Anyway, it can't be Nara. She's dating Jaehyun on the basketball team."

The friend next to you flails his arms like a petulant child, like he couldn't have possibly seen this coming, like he was so sure that he had finally solved the mystery. "Great. I'm back to square one again."

You straighten your back and reach for your drink, tentatively gulping down the beverage as if it'll hide the fact that you've gone stiff the second this topic is brought up. You feel bad about it, sure. These are your friends that you're lying to after all. They don't have to look anywhere far; the answer to the secret is right in front of them.

"We're still on about that?" you ask in the calmest, most nonchalant voice you can muster. You usually consider yourself a believable liar (which, to be honest, isn't really a flex at all), but whenever someone mentions this little arrangement between you and Minho that shouldn't be common knowledge for anyone else, you feel like you're been put under a spotlight for the whole world to scrutinize.

"Duh," Hyunjin says. "You know, I'm kinda surprised that you don't know. You two are like, attached at the hip sometimes."

You give him a thoughtless shrug, your hands fiddling with the sticker on the plastic cup as you avoid looking at either of your friends. "Maybe he just wants to keep private things private, y'know? You wouldn't like either if all of us is suddenly all up in your business. And besides, what if it's just casual?"

Hyunjin scoffs. "Please, I'm an open book. I tell you guys everything. I tell you every time I hook up with someone."

"Yeah, but you see, literally no one needs to know that," Seungmin says.

The taller one only scoffs, waving his hands around dismissively in Seungmin's direction before he turns to you. "If it was just casual, would he save her name as - oh my God, I forgot what her contact name is. Freaking bird person or something."

You make a face. "What?"

"Dude, seriously?" Seungmin rolls his eyes. "You forgot one word? Dove? What is the matter with you?"

Perhaps it's the half-hearted teasing judgment in Seungmin's voice that makes Hyunjin take offense and drop the topic. The conversation veers off course when they start bickering like children in the busy cafe. You suppose it works in your favor, but you can't focus. You drown it all out.

Your hand is still on the cup but the sticker has been left alone and forgotten, half peeled off, half still clinging to the plastic underneath the condensation.

The single word repeats itself in your mind, over and over and over again.

The entire time you're in class, you don't really focus on anything. You can't bring yourself to listen to whatever your professor is saying, not after what Hyunjin and Seungmin told you earlier. At some point, your friend has to nudge your shoulder to bring you back down to earth when usually, you're the one who has to remind Hyunjin to pay attention. Class ends soon enough though; time tends to fly by when your mind is lost elsewhere.

"What's wrong with you today?" he asks with his bag slung over his shoulder, slowing down his steps to match your speed as you walk out of the lecture hall together.

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. "Nothing's wrong. I was just tired."

"You wanna grab dinner with me and Felix?"

Any other day, you would've agreed in a heartbeat. But today, you want to be alone. Sometimes, you'd rather wallow in your own misery than settle for a temporary distraction.

You're still stuck on the conversation from earlier, on the small detail that Hyunjin and Seungmin had let slip in the cafe.

Dove.

His dove.

Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Perhaps it's only a nickname that he's assigned to you out of mere platonic fondness, but it makes you conscious about the dove on your own wrist nonetheless, the one that you feel compelled to hide from your friends underneath your long sleeve.

"No, it's okay," you tell Hyunjin. "I'll just go home and sleep it off."

"Okay. I can walk you for a bit," he says. "Just wait with me here. Minho's coming to give me back something he borrowed."

"Minho's coming?" you ask too quickly for it to sound casual. There's a panicked edge that you can hear in your own voice, though you don't think Hyunjin picks it up as he unlocks his phone and types something on the screen.

"Yeah, he was at the library. He's coming over right now, should only be a couple minutes. Then I'll walk back with you."

You shift on your feet uneasily, but you cover it up by rubbing your hands on your arms to pretend like you're just cold. There's no excuse that you could think of that would justify why you can't stand here with Hyunjin for just two more minutes, without giving it away the fact that you're avoiding Minho.

You take in a quiet breath, put on your best brave face. Casual, nonchalant. It's just Minho. Just Minho...

He comes up from behind, where you can't see him. A warm hand gently lands on your shoulder, and it takes everything not to shy away from his touch. It takes even more not to lean into his side.

You've missed it. You've missed him.

"Hey." He smiles at you while Hyunjin only gets a nod in acknowledgment.

"Hey." You return the smile, though you're sure you look a little rigid. You can tell there's an inkling of confusion in his eyes when he senses that your energy is off, but you're thankful he doesn't comment on it, at least not in front of Hyunjin anyway.

You don't notice the paper bag in his other hand until he hands it to your other friend with a simple Thanks, to which Hyunjin just nods along in a silent You're welcome.

"I was going to walk with Y/N for a bit and then meet Felix for food," he tells Minho. "You wanna get burgers with me and Lix?"

"No, thanks. I'm not hungry, I had a late lunch. I'll take the walk though."

You didn't plan on being alone with Minho today, even though you knew you had to talk to him eventually. You just thought you had a little more time, at least until you got your shit together and face him with a brave façade.

Minho's hand brushes yours the entire time you walk, and it's nothing if not confusing. It's unbearable, the way your fingers twitch with the urge to intertwine them with his.

It persists even after Hyunjin has waved you goodbye to you two and turned to head wherever he and Felix agreed to meet. You think Minho would hold your hand now that it's just you and him, but he doesn't. He lets your skin continue to brush, lets you suffer alone and wanting in your sunken disappointment.

It has very little to do with him and everything to do with you, the conflicting thoughts inside your head piling up one by one the more time you spend in his presence.

Dove, the brief display of jealousy at Yeonjun's party, the way he looks at you sometimes that you can't really decipher the meaning behind, how he kisses you so tenderly that it can't possibly be strictly platonic. You want these things to all mean something, and yet...

You want him to hold your hand, but you know you'd wave it off if he tries to reach for your fingers. You want him to stop you right then and there to kiss you breathless, just as he had that night two weeks ago, even though you're sure you'd only dodge his lips and push him away. You want to stay, you want to leave. You're terrified of things changing, but you wish that something, anything, would be different for him; that you aren't the only one who's spinning out of control. You love him, but you wish you didn't.

Eventually, Minho asks, "You okay?"

It's not until now that you realize this is the first time you've ever been this quiet around him. You purse your lips, glancing down briefly at your feet as you keep on treading the rest of the way home. "Yeah, all good. I'm just tired," you tell him, visibly unenthusiastic despite the smile you try to fake. "I just need to sleep it off."

"The project stressing you out?"

"I guess, yeah."

"And here I thought maybe you were avoiding me," he says, half a joke, half inquisitive. "Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Were you avoiding me?"

You give him a weird look, one that's meant to be dismissive and call his question ridiculous even though you know you've been caught. And maybe it's the over-the-top glance that you throw his way and the way your pitch goes higher when you reply, "Why would I be avoiding you?" that makes him stop walking.

On the other side of the street, there's a couple of kids in high school uniforms, exchanging shy glances and sharing fond giggles.

Minho calls your name softly, and it's like you're just waiting for the ball to drop. You don't want to turn back and look at him, but what other option do you have? What else is there to do?

You can't decipher the expression on his face. He's still calm, but the air has turned serious, the silence of the mostly empty streets surrounding you only serves as the soundtrack of your impending heartbreak. The tender and innocent laughter fades away when young love moves further and further from where you stand. "What?" you ask with faux nonchalance as you look at him, another attempt at stalling. Biding your time even though a few more minutes aren't going to do any good for your case.

Anyone with half a braincell could tell that clearly it's not the truth, let alone someone who has learned to read you better than the back of his hand. He doesn't look like he believes you, though he doesn't push it, much to your surprise.

"Okay," he says after a moment of studying you, and this should be the part where you heave a sigh of relief because he's letting you off the hook for now, but your chest doesn't feel lighter at all. Your head is clouded with dread, with the anticipation that you're only delaying the inevitable.

You walk the rest of the way in awful silence, because you know that he knows something is wrong. You try your best to appear composed, but he sees right through you. You know he does.

You must look like a frightened animal, one that's about to take off running any second now.

When you reach your building, Minho is quick to keep you with him before you can make up a lame excuse and bolt.

"Hey," he starts, his voice so impossibly gentle that it hurts. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Heavier and heavier, it weighs you down until you feel like your chest is going to collapse. The nerves gnaw on you, clawing into you until you feel your heartbeat quicken, the overwhelming dread simmering low in your belly.

"I know," you say, but deep down, what you're really thinking is, Not this. This is the one thing I can't tell you.

"Is everything okay?"

It's the way that Minho's got his gaze set on you with those deep brown irises, the concern so apparent in them that it hurts you. It's the way he looks like he wants to reach out and touch you - a comforting hand on your shoulder or your back like you're so familiar with - but he has to hold himself back or you might slip away.

It's him, how he always puts you first, how he cares about you in ways that you've never been cared about before. He understands you, he sees you. It feels like it could be love if you let the lines blur just enough.

Is love supposed to hurt? Like this?

Maybe it's not that you don't know how to hold love. Maybe it's because you're not meant to hold it at all. Insignificant, unlovable.

And... it's the reminder that cuts through the dread like the sharpest knife.

You leave his question unanswered, because nothing is okay and you can't tell him any of it. You can't lie to him either, because it's the last thing that you want to do to him.

Instead, you ask, "We're good... right? We're okay?"

"What do you mean?"

You gesture between the two of you, though you're not sure what that's supposed to signify. "Just...," you trail off for a second, hesitant. "Nothing's changed, right?"

Minho doesn't answer right away. He looks at you for a moment, searching for something in your eyes that you can't tell if he's able to find.

He nods, seemingly wistful as he says, "Nothing's changed."

He seems unsure about it, at least more than he was just a few weeks ago when he told you the same thing in your apartment with his fingers wrapped around your wrist. The tug between his brows - though barely noticeable - tells you as much.

Is it because something is different now? Or does he only sound uncertain out of concern, because of you and how you're acting?

Then he continues, "For me, at least."

And there it is.

It's the confirmation this time around that turns you inside out so his simple words could cut into you.

You swallow thickly, put on a smile like you're pleased with his answer even though you're trying your hardest to stop yourself from shaking. Whatever energy you had left is instantly drained from you just because of a few words.

Your sentences get smashed together, tangled up like barbed wire and they only make you bleed when you try to pull them apart. All your nervous tics coming out to play despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. A frustrated hand running through your hair, gripping at the roots a little harshly. Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth and your eyes turning glassy for a split second before you blink the moisture away, because you can't let Minho see you like this. See you trying to keep your pathetic heart intact while he's none the wiser.

He's fine. And unlike you, he's going to be okay when this is over.

Unavoidable and inevitable, the end will come whether you like it or not. You're the only one who won't make it out unscathed, and it will only shatter you into more pieces the longer you drag this out.

Just rip the bandaid off. Salvage whatever you can. Stop digging the grave even deeper for yourself.

One second, then two, then three. You don't speak until you have enough faith that your voice is even enough to carry out a few sentences.

"Okay, uhm... I think I need some time for myself. We should..." But it isn't, and you crack halfway through. The sound is deafening to your own ears. "We should take a break. We should stop this."

Minho doesn't question if you mean the secret between the two of you, or your friendship entirely. Instead, he asks, "Why?"

"I told you." You clear your throat. "I need time for myself."

You can't tell what he's thinking, but the knife twists inside of you nonetheless.

He takes a step closer, you take a step back.

You watch as his face falls, and the same feeling mirrors itself within the confines of your ribcage. Your heart drops at the sight of his eyes, deep brown irises stained with a little confusion, then a little hurt though it lasts for only a few seconds. The slight slump of his shoulders, the absence of the familiar playfulness he always sports when he's with you.

He blinks.

"Time for yourself, or time away from me?"

You say nothing.

You don't address his question directly, and your reluctance to do so is a loud enough answer in and of itself. "Why does that matter? What's the difference?"

"It matters if I did something to upset you."

"You didn't."

"Okay. So?"

This is confusing, because he's not letting you rip the bandaid clean off and you don't know why. "Nothing's changed, right? If it didn't mean anything to you, why can't you just drop this?"

Minho is quiet for a beat. His eyes are searching again, but this time, you think he finds something.

Everything is still and you hate it - the silence of the streets, the scrutinizing orange glow of the streetlights as if they're watching the scene unfold, even the innocent cat that's sitting by itself on the balcony on one of the floors higher up. You hate all of it.

"I never said it didn't mean anything," he tells you.

It makes you a little angry for some reason, and there's enough red to cloud your vision because his words are contradicting and you're tired, you're so exhausted that you can't focus on what it is that he's really saying.

"So you lied to me?"

"I've never lied to you."

"I asked you before and you said nothing's changed. Now you're saying whatever this is didn't not mean anything. Make up your mind."

It gets redder when he keeps his eyes fixed on you, still so calm despite the frown that has returned to its place between his brows. Still so collected, while you're being pulled apart at the seams.

The ball doesn't drop the way you expect it to. It keeps falling so insufferably slowly, hanging over you like it's mocking you for being stupid, like it's milking every second of suspense to make you implode.

Until Minho speaks next and suddenly, it feels like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. His voice, still so soft and tender. His eyes, reading something in yours that you can't bear to admit out loud.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.06.2024]

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (17/17)

Part Summary: “I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 7.600+ | Tags/Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut Author's note: Wow! Those five months went by so fast. Thank you so much for being with me on this journey. It's been my honor and pleasure sharing with you this story :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV I Part XV | Part XVI

-

“Tell me that your love is a sure thing” - Golden Vessel, Emerson Leif (“Hesitate”)

“Do you think I should ask Y/N to come with me?” Leigh asks, idly twisting a gold bauble between her fingers. She stares at it a beat too long, like she might find the answer in the curve of its shiny surface. 

It's three days before Christmas, and true to Shaw family tradition, they're just now getting around to setting up the decorations. It wouldn't have happened at all if Amy hadn't taken the initiative to remind them. She was supposed to help, but she's vanished again to meet another “friend.” Leigh and Jules are suspicious, thinking their mom might be seeing someone in secret.

Jules, teetering slightly on the ladder, twists around to give Leigh a raised eyebrow. “To the Harrison’s bash for New Year’s? Hell yeah, why not? She’s a blast. Could shake things up a bit.”

“No, not that,” Leigh exhales, now regretting even bringing it up. “I mean the comic book tour for Matt.”

Jules steps down, one rung at a time, until she’s down to Leigh’s level. “Oh. That’s…quite a step. But, why not? Sounds like an adventure for you both,” she says.

Logan zips by, a sheeny red bauble in his mouth, set on a mission to place it next to his bowl in the kitchen. He keeps fetching or chasing after the scattered Christmas balls, sending them rolling all over the house. Leigh and Jules have been running around, picking them up and putting them back on the tree.

“It’s not just that,” Leigh says, glancing out the window where the first hints of evening are brushing the sky. “Asking her to come means asking her to leave everything here behind. Her life, her responsibilities. It’s different for her—she has a real career.”

“Hold up—what we do is a real career too. We’re improving lives with healthy habits, remember?”

Leigh laughs sardonically. “Come on, Jules, we're kinda just floating, working for Mom. Y/N is a doctor, owns her clinic, has staff. That’s...”

“That’s a big deal,” Jules agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s a huge ask, for sure.”

Silence hangs for a beat, the only sounds being Logan’s light panting as he settles down, ornament forgotten. 

“Do you think she'd actually say no?” Jules suddenly pipes up, climbing back up the ladder to resume her decorating. Leigh spots a stray ornament a few feet away, points at it, and calls out, “Fetch!” 

Logan springs into action, scampering to retrieve it. As he returns, triumphant, Leigh gives him a pat on the head and passes the ornament up to Jules.

“Actually, it’s quite the opposite. She’d jump at the chance,” she tells Jules.

“So, what’s stopping you?”

“She might regret it later,” Leigh says quietly. “And that could mean losing her.”

Jules frowns, understanding the bind her sister is in. She stretches out a hand, and Leigh takes it, their palms pressing cold and warm together. “I’m sorry.”

“And if I leave her here, I might lose her anyway,” Leigh adds, the heaviness of two futures making her shoulders sag. 

Jules gives her hand a firm squeeze. “But what if you both end up regretting not taking the chance? It’s only a few months. Maybe Y/N can sort something out with her clinic?”

“It’s still too risky for her business. She’s poured everything into that place, Jules. Asking her to step away, even briefly—it’s…it’s selfish.”

“Life’s full of risky asks, Leigh. Sometimes, you gotta bet on what’s scary. Risk a little heartbreak on the chance it’ll bring you both something remarkable. Maybe this is one of those times?”

Leigh releases her hand and moves to another bare section of the tree. “Is that the kind of thinking that made you decide to look for your biological parents in Vietnam?”

Jules snaps the tinsel down, her response coming quick and a bit sharp. “Yes.”

Leigh winces slightly, realizing her question might have prodded an unintended sore spot. “I didn’t mean—”

“I get it,” Jules interjects, sighing as she tries to bring the conversation to a close. They’re both dealing with their own issues, and as much as she loves Leigh, she knows she’s not in the right headspace to offer solid advice—especially advice she’s not even sure works.

Leigh clamps her mouth shut. She doesn’t want this to turn into an argument either.

“Maybe just talk to her? See what she thinks? Who knows, maybe the biggest leaps make the most sense when you’re doing them for the right reasons... for the right person,” Jules says after some time. 

“You really think so?” Leigh asks, her voice threaded with hope.

“I do,” Jules nods, her hands busy rewrapping the tinsel Logan has graciously returned. “Just talk to her. It’s either a ‘what if’ or a ‘what now.’ Better to find out which.”

-

Leigh comes with her mouth open, but no sound escapes. Her body trembles as she experiences what she knows is the best orgasm she's ever had—though she remembers saying the same thing about this morning’s quickie in your bathroom. It just seems to keep getting better each time.

You slowly climb up from her pussy, trailing soft kisses along her stomach. As you move upward, you let your tongue lightly trace a stripe across one of her nipples, eliciting a shiver from Leigh. She’s still catching her breath, but when you finally reach her lips, she pulls you in for a deep, consuming kiss. The way her tongue wrestles with yours tells you she’s already eager for more, her hands tangling in your hair as she holds you close.

You break the kiss, smiling down at her. “Hi,” you murmur, almost shyly.

Leigh, still a little dazed, brushes the strands of hair off your forehead and gently traces your lower lip with her thumb. “You know something?” she asks, her eyes wandering over the marks and lines on your face.

“Hm?” 

She kisses the corner of your mouth. “You're kind of amazing,” she says softly.

“That good, huh?” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Her hand, which has been cupping your face, slides down your neck before she pulls it back to herself, biting at her index fingernail.

“I’m sure you can tell,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry. To emphasize her point, she arches her hips, the slickness between her thighs evident against your skin.

“You’re going to have to give me a minute,” you sigh, letting your head fall to her sweaty chest. “You’ve completely worn me out.”

Leigh laughs, a soft, melodic sound. “Really? Getting tired already? What happened to your stamina?”

You don’t bother to retort, content just to lie there listening to the rhythm of her heart. “It’s hard work keeping you satisfied,” you say after some time, your voice muffled against her skin.

She tightens her hold around you, the gentle stroke of her fingers in your hair making every thought slow down. The security of her embrace makes everything seem right in the world, and it emboldens you to voice a thought that's been on your mind more and more lately.

“You know,” you start, lifting your head to catch her eyes, “I was thinking… maybe you should move in with me.”

Leigh stiffens just a bit, her eyes darting away for a moment, and you instantly regret how fast you’ve blurted it out. You sit up, trying to backpedal, “Only if you want to, I mean... it was just a thought. You're here most nights anyway, and your toothbrush is already—”

Before you can ramble on, Leigh leans in and silences you with a gentle kiss. “Slow down,” she whispers against your lips, her smile reassuring.

You chuckle, giving her a sheepish, lopsided smile. “Right, right,” you agree, settling back down beside her. 

Leigh shifts to lie on her side, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyes, still dark with want, sweep over your body—flushed, soft, and still quivering slightly from your efforts to pleasure her. She catches herself, though, and with a more composed motion, she pulls the blanket up to cover you, tucking it around your chest.

You look up at her, your expression ironically innocent, waiting for her to say what's on her mind.

“I’d love to,” Leigh finally says. “But do you really think it’s the right move?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve just started exploring what this is, what we could be, and I’m already planning to leave. It feels like I’m setting us up for...” Leigh doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to.

Matt's book tour looms over both of you, an ever-present shadow no matter how tightly you try to cling to each other. It's as if you believe that by melding into one with Leigh, you could somehow will her impending departure into nonexistence.

Though before you can say anything, your phone rings from the coffee table beside you. You reach over and grab it, your mom's name flashing urgently on the screen. A quick glance at the time sends a jolt through you—you were to pick her up at the airport but completely lost track of time.

Leigh sits up too, clutching the sheet to her naked torso. “What is it?”

You wince, the irony of the situation not lost on you. “It's my mom,” you explain hurriedly. “I should have left, like, half an hour ago to pick her up at the airport. She’s staying with me for a few days until right before New Year’s.” 

A moment ago, you were discussing moving in together, and now you find yourself needing to ask her to leave. 

Leigh raises an eyebrow, smiling coyly as she realizes the implications of your mother��s arrival. “And let me guess, she's staying here? In your one-bedroom palace?”

“Yeah,” you say, scrambling to get dressed. “Which means I need to air out the place, change the sheets... make it look like I live like a monk.” You stop for a second, looking at Leigh with an apologetic frown on your face. “And I kind of need to ask you to leave now. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad?” Leigh laughs as she swings her legs out of bed and starts gathering her clothes. Once she's collected them all, she steps closer, gives you a quick kiss, and murmurs right next to your ear, “I’m furious.”

You kiss her hair gently before stepping in front of the mirror to check your appearance, making sure you don't look as disheveled as you feel.

“Gives us both some time to think about everything. The tour, us moving in, all of it,” Leigh says, slipping into her jeans.

“Absolutely,” you agree, watching her.

“Change those sheets well, huh?” she teases, zipping up her bag. “You know how moms can be.”

You grimace jokingly at her comment. “Please, don't ever use 'sheets' and 'mom' in the same sentence ever again.”

Leigh laughs again, clearly enjoying you squirm. She slings her bag over her shoulder, waiting for you to finish getting ready.

As you cap your lip gloss, an idea suddenly strikes you. Seeing Leigh's expectant look reflected in the mirror, you ask, “Hey, how about you join me to pick her up at the airport?”

Meeting your mom seems like another huge step in your relationship, but she doesn't hesitate.

“Is it okay with your mom?” she asks, a bit wary.

You shrug, taking her hand confidently. “Why wouldn't it be?”

-

Apparently, you’re the spitting image of your mother.

At least, that’s how Leigh sees it as she watches you both hug it out in the arrival section of LAX. As a fitness pundit, Leigh immediately notices your mom's excellent posture, despite her petite frame. It's the first thing she observes in anyone, and your mom is no exception. Beyond that, you both share the same quick smile and the way your eyes light up in laughter—deep brown, the color of rich coffee, which Leigh finds particularly striking. Even the gestures are mirrored; the way you both tuck hair behind your ear when nervous, or the confidence in your strides.

What distinctly sets her apart from you, though, is how intimidating your mom appears to be.

As you walk to the parking lot, holding your mom’s hand in one of yours and Leigh’s in the other, your mom chats animatedly about a hot spring resort she discovered near your hometown. Leigh keeps half a step behind, doing her best to stay engaged while keeping up with your pace.

“So, how was your flight?” Leigh asks, finding a moment to wedge herself into the conversation.

Your mom barely glances back, responding briefly before turning her attention back to you. “Long, but it’s always nice to spend Christmas with my daughter,” she says, squeezing your hand affectionately.

Leigh tries again. “It's pretty nice weather here, isn't it? I bet it's a lot colder on the East Coast right now.”

“Oh, it’s freezing out there, Leigh,” you chime in, completely oblivious to the awkward interaction between your mom and your girlfriend. 

Your mom nods but doesn't elaborate, her focus still on you. “We should stop by that bakery you always gush about,” she says, eyes bright with excitement.

Leigh's grip on your hand tightens slightly, and she lags further behind. “Oh, that store closes at five. It’s seven already,” you say. 

Desperate to connect, Leigh tries for the final time. “There are special light installations in the park for the holidays. Would you like to go see them?”

Your mom finally looks back, but her smile is thin. “I’m not much into these ‘light installations’. Too much walking.” She quickly shifts back to you. “How’s work been?”

“Work’s been busy, but manageable,” you say, glancing back at Leigh, who offers a small, strained smile.

The three of you continue to the parking lot, the conversation feeling increasingly one-sided. As you reach the car, you open the trunk and help with the bags, all the while trying to think of a way to include Leigh more naturally.

“Leigh and I were thinking of checking out that new restaurant downtown,” you say, making an effort to draw your mom's attention to her.

“Sounds nice,” your mom replies. “But actually, I'm not hungry—just a bit tired.”

Leigh’s expression falls just a bit, but she quickly masks it, helping with the last of the luggage. She figures that’s her cue to leave. 

You can’t hide your frustration. Your plan was to have a nice dinner, a proper introduction. “Are you sure, Mom? It doesn’t have to be a long meal,” you push back gently.

“Let’s just get your mom home, she’s had a long day,” Leigh tells you softly.

You glance at your mom, silently pleading for her to reconsider, but she only smiles. “Maybe another time, dear.”

Reluctantly, you agree.

-

You lead your mom into the living room, urging her to make herself comfortable while you hurry to get the bedroom ready. The sheets need changing, the windows thrown open to freshen the air, and the whole space needs a bit of tidying. 

“I’ll be right back,” you mumble, disappearing into the bedroom.

In the bedroom, you work quickly, stripping the used sheets and flinging the windows wide. You hustle, smoothing on fresh sheets, fluffing pillows, and straightening up—getting rid of all the evidence of what you and Leigh had been doing all week. 

Meanwhile, your mom isn't one to just sit around. She takes in the scattered magazines, the couch cushions askew, and the dishes piled up in the kitchen. With a small sigh, she gets up and starts putting things in order. She straightens up the living room and moves on to tackle the kitchen. Before long, the sound of running water and clinking dishes fills your tiny apartment.

When she’s done setting things in order, she starts rummaging through your fridge and pantry. With only a few ingredients at hand, she decides to make do with what you have. Soon, she's boiling spaghetti and slicing hotdogs to toss into the mix. This dish was a childhood favorite of yours and remains a go-to comfort food. As soon as the familiar aroma wafts through the air, you find yourself irresistibly drawn toward the kitchen.

“Is that...?” you start, a delighted smile spreading across your face at the sight of the generous layer of shredded cheese melting over the thick red sauce.

“Sit down and eat while it's hot,” your mom commands with a warm smile.

You don’t need to be told twice.  Fork in hand, you dive into the spaghetti as though you haven't eaten in days. Considering your usual diet of takeout and quick fixes, that's not too far from the truth. You chat about small, inconsequential things—the new coffee shop you tried last week, the remarkable cases you’ve encountered in the clinic this month, the shows you’ve been watching on Netflix. 

Finishing your meal, you lean back with a satisfied sigh, feeling truly content for the first time in a long while.

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“So... what do you think of Leigh?”

“So that’s Leigh, huh?” Your mom pauses, setting down her cup of tea with deliberate care. “The widow of the guy you unknowingly dated for a while, not realizing he was married?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirm, nodding slowly as your nerves start to build. The last time you brought up Leigh to your mom, you were almost ready to throw in the towel until she urged you to give it another shot. Now, more than anything, you're hoping she'll give her approval.

She nods thoughtfully, then with a sly grin, says, “Well, she's definitely out of your league.”

“Mom!” you exclaim, embarrassed.

She chuckles, clearly pleased with her little joke.

“Come on, be serious,” you plead.

Your mom clasps her hands on the table, and gives you that look—the one that means business. You can't help but roll your eyes at her theatrics, clearly aimed at getting a rise out of you.

“Leigh seems lovely,” she says. You can tell she’s sincere and that makes you sigh in relief. “And I really appreciate how she tried to engage with me earlier.”

You relax slightly, but then, as you replay the earlier interactions in your mind, you realize Leigh seemed frustrated and your mom wasn’t as welcoming as she usually is. Your face scrunches up as this sinks in.

“Wait, you were really standoffish to Leigh earlier!”

She holds up her hands in a half-shrug, her smirk fading into a more thoughtful expression. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to come off that way at all,” she says. “I guess I was just being overprotective. You know, considering how everything started between you two.”

You appreciate her motherly instincts but wish she'd given Leigh a fairer chance from the start. “I get it, Mom. But Leigh is really important to me now. It would mean a lot if you could try to get to know her better. For me?”

“Of course, sweetie,” she says. “What do you need?”

“Well, for starters…” you start, pausing as you try to find the right way to explain. You're about to share that you'll be spending Christmas dinner with the Shaws this year. It's always been just the two of you for the holidays, so you're not sure how she'll take the news of including others she hardly knows. “You’ll have an opportunity to bond with her the day after tomorrow.”

“What’s on Tuesday?”

“Christmas Eve dinner,” you reply. “At the Shaws.”

“Dinner at your girlfriend’s?” she clarifies.

You nod, your lip catching between your teeth. It still feels a little surreal—exciting, actually—being able to call Leigh your girlfriend. “Yeah, Mom. I thought it’d be nice for us to join them this year.”

Instead of giving an outright yes, she asks, “What should I bring? I want to make a good impression.”

You stand up and walk around the table to give her a hug. She wraps her arms around you and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you,” you mutter into her shoulder. “Maybe bring your blueberry pie? Everyone loves that.”

“You love it,” she says cheerily. “Consider it done.”

Slipping back into old habits, you start clearing the dinner dishes, just like you used to when you lived with her. As you stack dishes and run water in the sink, your mom begins unpacking her bags in your bedroom. As you scrub the dishes, thoughts of following Leigh and leaving everything here behind start to overwhelm you. Once the kitchen is spotless and the last dish is put away, you realize you can't keep these feelings bottled up any longer. 

You call out to your mother as you dry your hands on a kitchen towel. A few seconds later, she reappears in the living room, her face expectant.

“Hey, uhm,” you say, not knowing how to start. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“Go on,” she urges gently.

You take a deep breath before continuing, “Matt’s comic book is getting published posthumously. The publishing company wants Leigh to join a tour to promote the book, and I'm… I’m thinking of joining her.”

Your mom's expression becomes inscrutable as she processes the information. She walks to the couch and takes a seat. After a long pause, she asks, “What will happen to your clinic here?” 

You look down, fidgeting with the towel in your hands, and then meet her gaze. “I’ve thought about that,” you say. “I’d need to find someone to cover for me. It wouldn’t be easy, but... I feel like I need to be there for Leigh. This is important to her, and… she’s everything to me.”

You try to read her reaction, but every line on her face remains perfectly still and composed. “Is it because you want to be there for her,” she says slowly, “or because you're afraid that if she leaves, you might lose her?”

Your eyes drop to the floor, and that's answer enough for your mother.

“Come here,” she says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to her. Wordlessly, you oblige.

“It's okay to be scared,” she whispers. “Loving someone means taking risks. Just remember, you need to be true to yourself as well. Leigh is important, but so are you.”

“I just don’t want to regret not giving my all to see this through with her,” you say.

“You love her,” she states, not as a question, but as a fact.

“I really do,” you say quietly.

“I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”

-

Your mom's words stay with you throughout the night. As you lie in bed, you can hear her soft breathing, her back turned to you.

You’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.

Your phone vibrates gently beneath your pillow, and you smile when you see a message from Leigh.

Leigh [10:45 PM]: Can’t sleep. I miss you.

You [10:45 PM]: Miss you too.

She doesn't reply, but she fills your head well into the night. The future is uncertain, but one thing feels right: going with Leigh on her tour is the decision that brings you peace.

-

Christmas Eve dinner arrives sooner than you expected.

Pulling up to the Shaws' house, you're amazed by the decorations that the siblings have tirelessly worked on for the past two days. The house is transformed into a festive wonderland, with twinkling lights draped over every surface, garlands of holly framing the windows, and a towering Christmas tree visible through the living room window, adorned with shimmering ornaments and tinsel.

You watch your mom's reaction as you both step out of the car, seeing the lights reflected in her awe-filled eyes. You beam at her, proud of your girlfriend's decorating skills and holiday spirit.

You and your mom walk up to the doorstep. She clutches her much-loved blueberry pie, which you’re looking forward to having a hearty slice of tonight, while you carefully hold Leigh's gift—a Lego typewriter modeled after a vintage 1950s design. You feel a twinge of nervousness about how she’ll receive your gift.

Moments later, the door swings open to reveal Leigh, all dressed up, and for a moment, you're speechless. Leigh has always been beautiful. No matter what she wears—be it casual joggers, sleek dresses, or even just her underwear—she never fails to leave an impression. Tonight is no different; she takes your breath away all over again.

“Merry Christmas!” Leigh greets brightly. “Almost, anyway,” she adds with a nervous laugh.

“Your decorations are incredible,” your mom says, smiling at her.

“Oh, thank you!” Leigh replies, her cheeks flushing at the unexpected compliment. 

“Where should I put this?” your mom asks, holding up her pie.

“You didn’t have to, but wow, that looks amazing! Come on in, I'll show you,” Leigh says, stepping aside to let you both in. She leads you to the kitchen, where the smells of holiday cooking are even stronger. “You can set it right here,” she points to a spot on the counter already laden with various dishes and desserts.

Just as your mom sets the pie on the counter, Amy walks in. Leigh introduces her mom, and the two women share friendly greetings before Amy’s attention quickly turns to the blueberry pie. They dive into a lively discussion about cooking, swapping recipes as if they’ve known each other for years.

Leigh turns to you, her eyes shining. “I'm so glad you’re here now,” she says softly, her fingers lightly brushing against yours. Craving more contact, you gently grasp her hand and guide her to the backyard where Logan is nonchalantly marking a geranium. With no one around now, you draw Leigh close and kiss her deeply. Leigh responds just as fervently, her hand coming to rest on your waist and then squeezing, making you moan into her mouth. She takes advantage of the moment, slipping her tongue in. Her other hand finds its way to your neck, pulling you even closer. You can feel her heartbeat against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you rest your forehead against hers. Leigh's eyes are half-lidded, her lips slightly swollen, tempting you to lean in once more. Just as you're about to, she finally takes notice of the enormous box under your arm.

“Is that for me?”

“Yes,” you say, handing it to her. “I hope you like it.”

Leigh's eyes widen as she takes her gift, her excitement further lighting up her soulful green eyes.

“I've got something for you too,” she says, giving the box a little shake. “It's upstairs in my bedroom. Want to get it now?”

You shake your head, matching her giddy smile. “Maybe later. If you take me to your bedroom now, I can't promise we'll be back in time for dinner,” you say.

Leigh chuckles. Honestly, she feels the same way. “Well then, can I open this now?” she asks.

“Absolutely! Go ahead. I really hope you like it.”

Leigh quickly starts unwrapping your gift, her fingers deftly tearing through the wrapping paper. As the paper falls away, her eyes widen in pleasant surprise at the sight of the Lego typewriter.

“Oh my gosh, it's perfect! Thank you so much!” She carefully places it on the ground before wrapping you in a tight embrace.

“You're welcome,” you whisper, circling your arms around her waist and pulling her close.

When she pulls back, her eyes are brimming with happiness and something deeper—pure, unfiltered love. She stares at you, her gaze soft and intense, as if she's seeing you for the first time.

“I can't believe you remembered,” she says, referring to a conversation you had weeks prior. “This means so much to me.”

You smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

Something in your words strikes a chord within her. Without thinking, she blurts out, “Come with me to Matt's comic book tour.”

Her eyes widen slightly as she realizes what she's just said. But she doesn't take it back; instead, she buries her face in your neck, breathing in your scent. With each breath, she finds the idea of being apart from you increasingly unbearable.

“I want you to be there with me,” she continues with more conviction. “I can't imagine doing this without you.”

She pulls back slightly, needing to see your reaction. In your eyes, she finds the same depth of love she feels for you, mirrored back at her.

“As you wish,” you whisper, leaning in to seal your promise with a kiss.

-

Dinner is a success, largely due to Amy's and your mom's excellent cooking skills. The pasta prepared by Leigh and Jules wasn't a total disaster, but it had its mishaps. After the first batch turned too soggy—practically mush—Jules had to dash out in the middle of dinner to buy another pack of pasta.

Leigh’s father made a brief appearance with his new family, stirring a bit of awkwardness between the exes. Luckily, your mother defused the tension by suggesting a family game. It wasn’t long before laughter filled the room, with Jules energetically shouting clues at those struggling to guess the words on their foreheads.

In the middle of the game, Leigh volunteers to do the dishes. You offer to help, but Jules quickly drags you out of your seat to be the next one to guess the word. While you’re preoccupied, your mom quietly slips out of the living room and follows Leigh into the kitchen.

Leigh is surprised to see your mom. “I've got this,” she assures her with a polite smile. Despite your mom having considerably warmed up to her, Leigh still feels a bit anxious in her presence.

Your mom simply picks up some dinnerware that has already been washed and starts wiping them dry with a towel. “Do you know why Y/N became a veterinarian?” she asks casually.

Leigh smiles, recalling your story about Max, the first animal you ever helped. “Yes, she told me about rescuing a pup. It was really touching,” she says, her eyes softening at the memory.

Your mom observes Leigh, who has already returned to busily washing the dishes. “That’s right. But there’s more to it,” she says.

Leigh stops what she’s doing and tilts her head. “What do you mean by that?” she asks.

“Y/N did get into veterinary school,” your mom begins, placing a dry plate on the stack. “But she dropped out after the first semester. She had this deep-seated dream of traveling the world.”

Leigh listens attentively, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.

“Her father and older brother are both veterinarians, running a small clinic in our town. Naturally, they encouraged her to follow the same path,” your mom continues, “and while she loved animals, she also wanted to explore every corner of the world ever since she was a kid.”

Leigh's hands pause in the sudsy water as she absorbs every word.

“Her father gave her his blessing, and off she went. She traveled the world for two years.”

“What brought her back?” Leigh asks.

Your mom takes a deep breath, her knuckles whitening as she grips the towel more tightly. “H-Her father and brother were killed in a car accident,” she says, each word seeming to be painfully forced out of her.

Leigh's hand flies to her mouth in horror. “Oh no, I... I didn’t know,” she stammers, feeling a rush of guilt and confusion. Why hadn’t this crucial detail come up before?

“It was a terrible time,” your mom says quietly, “but it brought her back home.”

Leigh is silent, guilt gnawing at her for not knowing such a significant detail of your life. She’s been so caught up in sharing her own thoughts and plans, and you’ve always been the listener, never pressing her to ask about your past. She realizes now how little she’s asked about your family.

Leigh abandons her chore altogether. “W-What happened then?”

“After the accident, without their expertise, we couldn't keep the clinic running,” your mom replies, her voice steadier now but still tinged with sadness. “We had to put it up for sale. It was devastating to lose what they had worked so hard for.

“For a long time, Y/N was depressed. She blamed herself for not being there in the last two years, for putting her own interests first. And with the clinic gone, she felt like she had failed to preserve their legacy.”

Leigh is at a loss for words, her eyes growing bleary. “I’m—” 

“Being a housewife all those years, I suddenly found myself needing to help put food on the table so Y/N could go back to school,” your mom explains. “For a year, she was just a shell of herself, hardly the vibrant person you know now.”

Needing a moment to process all these revelations, Leigh moves to the dining table and sits down. Her legs feel weak at the thought of you being so heartbroken. She knows grief all too well. Losing one person she loved nearly destroyed her; she can't imagine losing two at once.

“Y/N is the most… beautiful, wonderful and well-adjusted person I know,” Leigh says after a while. “I wouldn't have guessed she went through all that.”

“My daughter is a miracle,” your mom states with a soft smile.

“Thank you for telling me all this,” Leigh says sincerely.  “It means a lot to understand what she’s been through.”

Your mom nods and says, “I'm not telling you this just because you're her girlfriend. I'm telling you because I know she’s planning to follow you and leave her practice here in LA behind.”

Leigh's breath hitches as she takes it all in. Learning about your father and brother, she realizes she nearly forgot what she asked of you just hours ago. It's not just a job or a business you're leaving behind—it's a dream that keeps their memory alive, a part of you where they still live on.

“Please, don't ask her to leave everything behind,” your mom says, her voice almost pleading. “Just promise her that you'll come back for her.”

It’s not an easy promise to make—or keep. The mere uncertainty of what lies ahead holds her back. She can't stand the idea of breaking a promise to you or betraying your trust in any way.

Leigh's silence stretches on, and your mom speaks again. “If you can't promise to come back for her, just end it. Don't let it drag on. She's tougher than she knows. It'll hurt, but she won't be alone—I'll be there, and so will her friends and coworkers.”

Leigh balks at her. “I don't want to rush into a decision.”

But your mom isn't listening. Her concern cuts through her caution, compelling her to share more. “After we lost half our family, she was never the same. She’d sacrifice everything for someone she loves, always skeptical of a second chance. She loves like there's no tomorrow.”

It’s the one thing your mother said tonight that rings truest about you. You do love as if it's the last thing you'll ever do.

Before Leigh can respond, Amy walks in, sensing the tension immediately. “Is everything alright?” she asks, her eyes darting between Leigh and your mom.

Leigh suddenly realizes she's been crying, and so has your mom. Your mother excuses herself to the bathroom, leaving Amy looking concerned and bewildered.

“What was that about?” Amy asks.

Leigh, shaken and overwhelmed, struggles to speak. “I-I need to get the gifts for everyone. They're upstairs,” she stammers, then quickly heads to the bedroom, needing to escape and collect herself.

Amy watches Leigh leave, then reaches for the blueberry pie, trying not to read too much into the haunted look in her daughter’s eyes.

-

It’s a cold January evening when Leigh finally gathers the courage to talk to you. Your mother flew back to Maine three days after Boxing Day, and the rest of the holidays passed by in pure bliss. The two of you are curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, the remnants of dinner still on the coffee table. She’s been avoiding this conversation, clinging to the hope that something might change. But the more she thinks about the family you lost when you were younger, the more convinced she becomes that your mother was right.

“Can we talk?” Leigh’s voice is soft, almost drowned out by the movie playing in the background.

You mute the TV and turn to her, a look of concern immediately crossing your face. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about our future,” Leigh says slowly.

It doesn’t immediately ring any alarm bells in your head, but your heart starts to race. “Okay…” you murmur. You can't help but notice her hands twisting nervously in her lap. You reach out to steady them, and as she looks up, her resolve breaks.

“I love you. You mean the world to me, but…I don’t know if it’s right for you to come with me.”

You frown, eyebrows stitched together in confusion and denial. “Leigh, what are you talking about?”

She looks away, her hands slipping from your grasp as she inches further into her corner of the couch. “I can’t be the reason you give up everything you’ve worked so hard for,” she says.

“I’m not,” you reassure her, trying to keep calm. “It’s just for a little while, right? Less than six months on tour. And it's not like we'll be non-stop; the schedule allows breaks. We can come back home in between. We’ve discussed this, remember? We have a plan in place.”

Leigh grows quiet, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. She takes a long breath through her nose, as if preparing herself for something even harder to say. “That's the thing,” she whispers. “I might not come back.”

Everything around you stills.

“What do you mean, you might not come back?”

Leigh’s eyes remained glued to the floor. “For the longest time, I’ve thought about leaving. Now that Jules is embarking on her own trip to Vietnam, and Mom is planning a long vacation in Europe, it feels like the best time to explore what's out there.”

“Leigh, we've been planning this together. It's just a tour. We'll be back,” you reiterate in frustration, starting to grasp at straws.

She merely shakes her head. “Everything about this place reminds me of Matt—both the good and the bad memories. Maybe I—”

“Great. The Matt card again,” you snap.

Leigh bristles at your comment. She stands abruptly and begins to pace. Seething. “Card?” she retorts sharply. “This is my life, my pain—”

“And you’ve just been running away from it all!” you counter, standing up too. “Running away from me!”

“Didn't you?” she fires back, her voice breaking. 

“What—”

“Didn't you do the same thing when you lost your—” Leigh can't finish the sentence. It hurts too much to even say it.

You take a step back, shocked. “How did you—”

“Your mom told me.”

The room certainly feels like it's closing in. Unable to stand any longer, your legs give out, and you collapse onto the couch, burying your face in your hands and massaging your temples. Leigh watches you for a moment, then sits beside you. She reaches out tentatively but pulls back, unsure of what to say or do.

Your hands fall away from your face, and you turn to her, your eyes filled with pain and betrayal. “You learned about me losing my dad and my brother, and your response is to... leave me as well?”

Leigh's eyes fill with tears again, and she looks away, unable to hold your gaze. “It’s not like that,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“What if I promise that the clinic will be okay? Foreman can manage things while I’m away, I trust him,” you suggest, your voice wavering as the reality of the situation starts to consume you.

Leigh shakes her head, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I can't,” she murmurs. “I can’t feel good about myself knowing I'm pulling you away from something important to you.”

“But you're what's important to me, Leigh,” you argue weakly.

“That’s not how it works, Y/N,” Leigh says, trying to fight more tears threatening to spill over. “It’s too imbalanced. We don’t need a relationship where one of us is sacrificing too much. That’s not healthy for either of us.”

You sit in stunned silence, her words sinking in. You've always been willing to sacrifice for the people you love, but now you see how it could be a burden for Leigh. 

You swallow hard, trying to compose yourself, the words sticking in your throat. “And you think the best for us is to be apart?”

She nods reluctantly. “I think the best for you is to not have to choose between your love and your life's work. I can't ask you to put anything on hold, not for me.”

“But I choose you, Leigh,” you say, tears now streaming down your face. “Doesn't that count for something?”

Leigh can’t help herself any longer. She moves closer, needing to comfort you despite being the source of your pain.

“It does,” she whispers, gently wiping away your tears with her thumb. “It counts for everything. But I need to know that you're not losing yourself to be with me. I can't live with that.”

With that, she pulls you close. You hold each other tightly, falling asleep on the narrow sofa, clinging to each other as if letting go would mean losing everything.

But by the time the sun has risen high in the sky, Leigh is already gone.

-

There are days when you feel bitter about Leigh deciding to break up with you, especially with weeks still left before the tour begins. You oscillate between anger at her decision and a reluctant acceptance that it might have been the right choice for both of you. More often than not, the anger prevails, leading you to drink yourself to sleep, only to wake up the next day to discover that nothing has changed.

Leigh is still leaving.

-

To your surprise, Amy willingly provides you with Leigh's flight itinerary out of Los Angeles. In the days leading up to her departure, you find yourself constantly formulating and discarding plans. Will you show up at the airport and whisk her away? Convince her to change her mind? Perhaps even show up with your own suitcase, ready to join her if you can persuade her at the last minute that she’s making a huge mistake?

Ultimately, none of your scenarios play out. However, you do find yourself at the airport, arriving ten minutes before her boarding gate closes. There, you spot Leigh standing in the lobby with a small suitcase. In that instant, you feel like you’ve accepted—for real this time—her decision to do this on her own.

You watch from the shadows as her gaze darts around as if searching for someone. Your heart swells with a mix of hope and sorrow, realizing she might be looking for you. You stay hidden, watching as she pulls out her phone and dials a number. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket. With your eyes still on her, you answer it.

“Hey, it's me,” Leigh starts awkwardly, as if implying that you might not remember how she sounds. You haven’t spoken to each other in weeks.

“I know it's you,” you reply softly.

“I'm about to board,” she says, and you can hear the reluctance in her voice.

“I see,” you say, struggling to contain the emotions that might slip through the cracks of your nonchalance. “Did you pack some food for the flight?”

She laughs, a tearful sound that squeezes your heart. “Yes, I picked up some donuts.”

“Sounds unhealthy, Ms. Shaw. Try to order some broccoli in-flight,” you tease her lightly.

“I hate broccoli,” she deadpans, her voice layered with a stubbornness you know well.

Then, she asks the harder questions, “Where are you? What are you doing?”

You mull it over, caught between honesty and the need to protect her decision. “I'm just hanging out in the clinic,” you lie, unwilling to reveal that you are there, watching her last moments before departure. “Will you call me when you land?”

She sounds like she wants to protest, but you cut in, “I need to know you're safe. It would really help me to know you're okay out there.”

After a few seconds, she agrees softly, “Okay, I'll call.”

“I’ll wait,” you say. “However long it takes,” you add, leaving the meaning of those words open for her to interpret.

They announce final boarding.

“Listen, I—I have to go,” Leigh says quickly. “Please, take care. Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Leigh,” you manage to say, your voice catching as you watch her walk away.

You end the call and pocket your phone. Watching her wipe away a tear and head towards her gate is almost too much to bear. You allow yourself a moment, a small smile playing on your lips, proud of her courage and saddened by her departure. You’ll be waiting for her call, but if it never comes, you'll understand. These moments don't erase the past several months you've spent getting to know Leigh.

And you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

-

At exactly ten in the evening, Leigh calls you from Boston.

[mncxbe]

bsd men and what they do for christmas

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂, 𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊, 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: sfw/nsfw/ severe brainrot♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

can I just start by saying that this man has never celebrated Christmas properly so he's so excited to spend time with you

Dazai prefers to keep things simple: homemade dinner and then watching a movie

you're supposed to open the presents in the morning but he isn't patient enough. the moment he sees them under the tree you so kindly decorated a few days ago he has the biggest smile on his face

"come on bella you don't seriously want to wait until morning. how could you do this to me? you know how curious I am"

you end up opening the gifts that night. he's gonna loves whatever you get him really but his heart literally melts if you knit him a scarf or write him a letter. dazai's a sucker for self-made gifts

the only appropriate way to show his gratitude is to bend you over and fuck you nice and slow, your face mushed in the cushy pillows on your shared bed as he takes you from behind

"there you go pretty girl. my, my I'm starting to think this pretty pussy of yours is my favourite gift so far"

you can bet he wears a santa hat

𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

he'd take you out to the most expensive restaurant in town for a proper meal

after that, if you find a rink that's open on Christmas eve he takes you ice skating (totally not an excuse for him to hold your hand)

once you get home you cuddle on the couch while watching a generic movie like Home Alone. it's always the classics I'm telling you

he has a fireplace!!! and insists on opening the gifts next to it

among other stuff, he gets you Christmas themed lingerie and makes you wear it in bed. cuz after all, you're the best gift he could ask for

forget about baking him sweets, the only dessert he wants is your pretty cunt. he's gonna eat you out for what seems like hours, making you cum on his tongue at least two or three times before he even thinks about fucking you

"shiit baby you look so pretty like this. you like it when I spoil you rotten don't ya? I bet you do- oh fuck yea cum f'me doll"

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

hubby's busy even on holidays

he probably has to attend some obnoxious event and ofc you go as his plus one

he's gonna spend all evening sulking and complaining about how idiotic the whole party is

by the time you two get home he's too exhaused to do anything but you may be able to bribe him to stay awake for an hour or two with some gingerbread

can I just say he'd probably get you the nicest gifts? i'm 100% sure he has a good salary so he can afford whatever you want. expensive jewelery or skincare? sure, no problem. a stack of books with those pretty decorative covers? fine again

he probably gets a bit tipsy on mulled wine so be prepared to hear a silly yet lengthy love confession before bed

falls asleep before midnight but he's gonna make up for it in the morning if you catch my drift

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

sweet baby's so anxious at first

he's never celebrated christmas before so he doesn't really know what to do. this whole idea is so new to him but he can't deny he loves spending time with you decorating the house

Sigma wants to try any tradition you may have; baking winter themed cookies, making crackers, watching a movie marathon

when it comes to gifts he doesn't really know what to get you so he ends up buying multiple things he thinks you'd like and he's so happy when you tell him you like them

cuddles cuddles cuddles all evening under a cushy blanket with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands

he'd look so cute wearing one of those reindeer headbands

if it's snowing, take him slow dancing in the snow or on a walk around town. he's gonna love the pretty christmas lights

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

With Discretion - Holiday Special**

Here it is! I hope you guys like it. I really like how I ended this series and I hope you guys do too. Thanks for reading!

Read the rest of the “With Discretion” series

WARNINGS: miscommunication/avoidance of issues, fear of commitment and doubt in relationships/partners, 69, face fucking and sitting, fingering, forced and multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, size kink, marking.

WC: 15.2k

Harry had been on a high for the near year you two had been together. Business was excellent, his firm was doing great and he had been able to unfold that deal with the schools in the area and the pilot of the internship program was doing really well. Of course, things with you had been a fucking dream. You were both thriving in your individual endeavors and of course, as a couple. The more time you spent together the more he thought about marriage. He’d always wanted to get married but of course, he was cautious with his love life and its future, but now the future he wanted felt far more tangible. You were everything he had wanted in a life partner. He was anxious to bring it up to you because inevitably, the question would be asked by both of your families about where you two saw this relationship going. Especially as the holidays approached.

He was thinking on this even more since your parents were coming to visit from California and it would be the first time he officially met them in the flesh. It goes without saying that Harry was absolutely nervous about it but he was looking forward to meeting them and spending time with them. He knew that they weren’t all that supportive of your marriage to Caleb, so he wanted to make the best impression possible so that they didn’t have a shred of doubt about what a future with him could mean for you. He had been there for a few conversations with your mom about how disappointed she was at the outcome of your marriage, she wasn’t condescending about it, but like any parent who felt they knew best from the start, she couldn’t help but hit you with that dreaded “I told you so” a couple times. The next time she said something like that to you, he wanted it to be under good circumstances, like your wedding day perhaps when he inevitably cried at the altar because of how breathtaking you’d look. His little daydream was interrupted by his office phone ringing.

“Mr. Styles, reception called, Y/n just arrived.” His new assistant, Corey, informed him over the line.

“Great! Thanks mate. Can you inform reception that I’ll be just a few minutes?” He assured and Corey confirmed before hanging up. He shot you a quick text to let you know that he’d be out soon. You were going to a late lunch and then doing some Christmas shopping, so his Friday would be ending early and he couldn’t be more thrilled to kick off his weekend plans with you.

*********

You were sitting in the reception area just looking through your phone while you waited for Harry to come down. You were quite enraptured with an email on your phone that you didn’t notice that Caleb was approaching you until he called your name.

“Y/N!” He greeted cheerfully and you glanced up from your phone to see him smiling down at you.

“Oh my god! Hi Cal, how are you?” You asked as you shot up from your seat and hugged him tight as he hugged you back.

“I’ve been doing well.” He smiled.

“I can see that! You look great.” You complimented him. He looked a lot more fit and well kept than the last time you had seen him, he had been struggling quite a bit then.

“Thanks, you too.” He smiled, “So things are still going well with Harry.” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah, actually.”

“What’re you going on a year now?” He asked.

“Yeah, in the new year. It’s crazy how time flies.” You said with a smile and he nodded. “What about you? Did ummm, did anything ever pan out with you and Dani?” You asked and Cal sighed.

“Well, kind of. I ummm, I had a trip to London for the firm several months ago. Obviously, I saw her there…we spent the night together. I think she was just feeling a bit homesick and was seeking some familiarity, you know?” He said and you nodded in understanding, “But ummm, obviously she lives there now and we talked a few times after that but it was mostly just good for closure. I ummm, I did start dating again though. I feel good about it, I’ve had a few successful connections, so ummm, yeah it’s been going well.” He shared.

“That’s great, Cal. I’m really happy for you. I’m glad you were able to move on. I know it can be hard.”

“Was it hard for you?” He asked and you nodded. “You sure?” He grinned and you chuckled.

“Yeah! But see I started moving on when I realized that you were seeing someone else. So by the time we were over-over it was a bit easier for me to get with someone new.” You explained.

“Ah…the slow fade.” He hummed.

“Exactly.” You chuckled. 

“So what brings you in?”

“Just having a late lunch with Harry and then we’re doing some Christmas shopping. My parents are coming into town for the holidays so just trying to find something nice for them.”

“Great, that’s really great.” He hummed and you nodded. “And business is going well?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s excellent with that. I had to hire a helper actually, just to give you an idea of how things are going.”

“Wow, congrats!”

“Thank you so much. It’s been tricky at times to meet the demand but I’m getting there.” You smiled.

Just then the elevator dinged and you both glanced over to see Harry stepping out with a cheerful smile upon seeing you standing there. Harry and Cal were on good terms, it did take a few weeks for Cal to get used to Harry dating his ex-wife, but when the weirdness faded they were back to their cool and professional relationship without a hitch. Harry had always been a bit of the jealous type, but he knew that Cal wasn’t a threat to him, so his presence did not deter his excitement to see you in any way.

“Hey, baby!” He greeted you happily and Cal moved aside as Harry hugged you and kissed your cheek quickly.

“Hi.” You responded with a big smile.

“Just catching up?” He asked looking between you and Cal and you both nodded.

“Yep, she’s telling me how she’s basically becoming this event planning tycoon.” Cal said and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, the business is growing fast.”

“Maybe we can even hire her for some of the office events or shindigs for clients.” He suggested and Harry’s eyebrows arched up.

“That’s actually quite a brilliant idea, Cal. We just might have to…” Harry hummed with a smile at you and you shook your head.

“You guys are crazy.” You chuckled and they smiled at each other.

“Well, I uh, I need to be getting back up there.” Cal said, “But it was nice running into you. I’m happy things are going well, Y/N.” Cal said and you nodded.

“Yeah, it was great to see you. And I’m also glad to hear you’re doing well, Cal. See you around.” You smiled.

“Later, Cal.” Harry said with a smile and Caleb waved once more before he hurried into the elevator before the doors closed. “Was that alright? Seeing him?” Harry asked as soon as he was gone and you nodded.

“Yeah, we were just catching up. Are you good? That wasn’t weird for you?”

“Not at all. We’re on good terms here as well.” Harry assured and you smiled.

“Good. Now, where are we eating?”

“I managed to get a last minute reservation at Carbone, know you’ve been dying to get more of that mushroom fettuccine.” He said with a smile.

“Ooh, yes! Yummm!” You said with excitement and headed off. 

Your lunch had been delicious, as you expected, and your shopping was also going really well. It had been very productive thus far since you had managed to secure the gift you wanted for your mom with ease. You’d also found something for Cece and Harry had managed to find something for Corey, his assistant. Corey had been recommended by Tamika when she put in her 2 weeks. She had been accepted to USC and from what you and Harry had heard last, she was kicking ass over there. But Corey had some big shoes to fill and he was doing an exceptional job, so Harry wanted to get him something to say thank you, even if it was as simple as a keyboard for his iPad. He could use it for school, it would come in handy for his note taking in his classes. Now you just needed to get your dad his gift. He had been wanting some cufflinks that matched with this tie clip that he had been gifted for his birthday a few years prior and after your mom had sent a picture, you were eager to find something that paired well with the help of some experts.

“Let’s go in here, this is the jeweler my client recommended.” You said to Harry who nodded and opened up the door for you to get inside and out of the cold New York air. You were greeted warmly and asked if you needed help with anything the second you got inside the store. “I actually do need help, need to see about some cufflinks.” You said to the man and he nodded and guided you both over to one of the cases across the store.

“Felicity will be able to help you with that. She’ll be with you in a moment.” The man assured and then excused himself.

“You alright here, baby?” He asked you and you nodded, “OK, gonna wander around, see if I can get my mum anything while we’re here.” Harry said.

“OK.” You smiled and let him go off. Moments later you were joined by the saleswoman and consultant, Felicity. You were able to show her the picture your mom had sent and she lit up assuring you that she had several options to show you for your dad. 

“Some of the pieces are actually part of the new inventory which we haven’t quite finished unpacking for display.” She explained, “I’m gonna go locate them back there OK? In the meantime feel free to just look around, I’ll come find you when I have the selection ready for you to look over.”

“Thank you so much, Felicity.” You smiled at the older woman and she gave you a friendly smile before disappearing to the back of the store. You turned around and darted your eyes around until you found Harry at a display case at the end of the store furthest from you. You made your way over quietly, but he seemed to notice your presence nearing him as he turned when you were just a few feet from him. “What you looking at there?” You asked as you came up to the case.

“Rings.” He said softly and you peered down at the glimmering accessories displayed beautifully beneath the spotless glass panel. You couldn’t help but notice that these were specifically engagement rings as the regular accessory rings were in the next case over from what you could see as you glanced to your right briefly. “That one’s nice, no?” He asked you as he nodded towards the case.

“Which one?”

“Second row, fifth one in.” He said and you searched and nodded.

“It looks vintage-y, that’s what I like about it. Don’t love that cut though.” You said.

“The princess cut?” He asked and you nodded.

“S’too boxy, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He hummed.

“The one two rows beneath it is gorgeous.” You mused and he smiled.

“The oval one in gold?” He asked and you nodded and hummed in confirmation, “Yeah, quite like that one actually. It’s very nice.” He mused as he looked it over.

“Would you like to inspect any of the rings more closely or try anything on?” Suddenly one of the salespersons appeared seemingly out of thin air.

“Oh n-”

“Yes, please.” Harry’s voice slightly overpowered yours before he turned and smiled at you briefly before turning back to the clerk and pointing at the one you had said you liked. The man was careful as he removed it from the back velvet setting it was in and reached for the magnifying glass that was peeking out of the front pocket of his suit jacket.

“This is a fine choice. The main stone is 3 carats, ethically sourced, and it has wonderful clarity.” He said as he positioned the magnifying glass over the ring’s main stone, “Have a look.” He insisted and you both peered over. It looked like you were staring into a hall of a million mirrors, it was absolutely beautiful. “You don’t see too many engagement rings set in gold now a days, but it is making a come back. It gives them a generational kind of feel, I think. Like a priceless family heirloom.” He smiled at the two of you.

“Yeah.” You hummed in agreement with a smile before glancing up to the man.

“Would you like to try it on?” He asked and you glanced to Harry who smiled at you and shrugged, indicating that it was up to you. It was just so pretty that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try it on. Cal insisted that you keep your rings from your engagement and marriage, but you didn’t wear them anymore, they were in a safe in your apartment. But you had been wearing two rings for seven years and you did feel naked without them for the first few months after you agreed to divorce, but now it was fine. But a part of you missed having them on so you agreed.

“Sure.” You accepted happily. Cal hadn’t consulted with you on which ring he’d get you when he proposed. You still liked it, it just wasn’t something you would’ve chosen for yourself, unlike this ring, this ring was right in your wheelhouse.

“It helps a lot to see the different cuts on yourself. That way you know which ones flatter you most when the time comes to choose “the one”, you know?” He said as he extended his hand towards yours and you handed over your right hand without much thought.

“There’s only one “the one” ring. One ring to rule them all…” you said lowly as you glanced back at Harry knowingly as you quoted “Lord of the Rings” with a grin and Harry sputtered on a laugh and the salesman did as well.

“You’re a complete dork.” Harry murmured before kissing the side of your head, “S’one of the reasons I love you, though.”

“Pardon, but wrong hand, miss.” the salesman said and your eyebrows arched up before you and Harry chuckled.

“Right! Don’t know why I’m so nervous.” You chuckled in a bit of embarrassment as you handed over your left hand and Harry’s warm hand rubbed over your lower back a few times reassuringly.

“It can be nerve-wracking, it’s a big step getting engaged.” The man said and you hummed. Obviously, you and Harry were not getting engaged any time soon. You hadn’t even properly talked about marriage like that yet, this was just for fun…right? Suddenly the man gasped and you turned to him, “Would you look at that?” he mused in wonder, his bright eyes met with yours, “It’s like it was made for you. It even fits perfectly.” He pointed out with glee, “And the cut is very flattering on your hand. It looks very beautiful on you. You have good instincts for this.” He smiled up at you and you just chuckled bashfully. “What do you think, sir?” He asked Harry and you glanced back to him as well.

“I agree, I love it on you.” He smiled solely at you and you smiled back at him as your stomach did an unsettling flip that you couldn’t really focus on when the man spoke up again.

“Are you interested in seeing any other options similar to this one? We can find similar ones with different budgetary limits as well if you have a price point in mind? Or have you got any ideas for other styles or cuts you’d like to see? Maybe even see what wedding bands can match with the engagement ring?”

“Sorry, we’re actually just here to buy some cufflinks for my girlfriend’s father.” Harry explained, “We got a bit sidetracked over here. The rings are just so shiny and beautiful, it’s impossible not to come have a look at them more closely.” He said with a smile and the man hummed with a smile.

“Oh, I understand, could stand around here all day marveling. I’m sorry to have assumed. You are a lovely couple though. Maybe sometime in the future.” He said with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Harry smiled, “Thank you though.”

“Let me give this back to you.” You said as you extended your hand out again and he chuckled.

“Of course, miss.” He said and carefully slipped the ring off of your finger, “Well in the future if you are taking things to the next level feel free to make an appointment with me, my name’s Dan. I’m the senior consultant specializing in engagement rings and wedding bands.” He explained as he set the ring back in it’s spot under the glass. “We do very thorough consultations for engagement rings if you so choose to buy with us.” He said as he extended his card to you, again he seemingly pulled it out of thin air. 

“Thank you.” Harry hummed with a smile as he took it and slipped it into his pant pocket.

“My pleasure. I hope you find everything to your satisfaction.” Dan smiled before hurrying off to help another customer a few cases down.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking now?” Harry asked with a smile as you turned to him. The excitement and expectation in his eyes made your stomach start to flip for your heart rate to skyrocket.

“Ummm that Dan’s a magician? I mean he literally just conjured himself!” You said and Harry was silent for a few seconds before he knocked his head back in laughter.

“OK, right!?” He gasped and you giggled and nodded, “Like where the fuck did the business card come from? I was looking at him the entire time he was taking the ring off of you! Didn’t see him reach down into his pockets or anything once!” Harry told you with an amused look in his eyes. 

“Maybe he was a magician before he became an engagement ring consultant?”

“Like a serious one in Vegas or like for kid’s parties?” Harry asked and your eyebrows furrowed.

“All magicians are serious magicians, Harry.” You said to him in mock offense and he chuckled.

“Oh, alright well thanks for that tidbit.” He grinned.

“You’re welcome. Can’t go insulting magical careers based on the population they cater to, you muggle.” You teased and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, excuse me…” he said sarcastically.

“I’m serious! A pediatric doctor is no less serious because they cater to children specifically, are they?” You questioned him and he smiled.

“You’re very right actually…” he pondered and you giggled, “And you’re also a very serious nuisance.” He said softly and you laughed and hugged him tight before leaning your head against his chest. You could hear his heart pounding intensely in it’s confines and it made you draw back from him as that nervous feeling started to swirl in your tummy again and caused you to feel a bit sick. It scared you that it was mostly a bad feeling, it wasn’t just nerves like you hoped when it first happened. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked you when he saw your smile fade away.

“Oh, just my stomach suddenly hurt.” You explained and he sighed.

“Did you forget your Lactaid pill? That fettuccine you had is drowned in cream sauce.” He said quietly and you sniggered.

“No, I didn’t forget it.” You assured through a giggle. “It’s gone now, I’m alright.” You said and he looked at you skeptically.

“You sure? We can just head home once you get the cufflinks if you’re not feeling well.” He suggested. You did have the rest of the day planned out. Harry had a few rental properties around town and you would be spending the night at one of the empty ones after dinner and visiting a comedy club with a few of his friends later tonight.

“I’m sure.” You smiled and he nodded. Just then Felicity called your name from behind the counter and you turned to her to see she had brought out a velvet cushion with at least a dozen cufflinks for you to look at, “Oh, look at these! Help me pick something, H.” You said to him and he nodded as he came closer to you and rested his hands at your hips as he peered over you, half-listening to what Felicity was saying to you. 

He couldn’t help it as he glanced past the cushion of cufflinks and right down at that ring you’d tried on. Dan hadn’t just been buttering you up for a potential sale when he said it was practically made for you, it really did look amazing on you. But then you got a little weird…when he’d asked you if you were thinking what he was thinking about and you deflected and started mucking about over Dan. So he quickly rejected any feelings of disappointment at your lack of seriousness over what he was trying to bring up to you and just bounced back with another playful comment about fucking Dan and his sleight of hand. It was odd to him because you two were obviously in love and your relationship was going incredibly well. But your reaction made him wonder if perhaps he was taking your future together more seriously than you were. It put an annoying and anxious weight over his chest that he had never felt with you before and it made him upset and a bit scared. He wanted to address it immediately but given your reaction to the implied situation and topic at hand he didn’t expect that you’d want to discuss it any time soon. So Harry did the one thing he knew wasn’t correct and ignored that nagging ache in his heart and just warded off all of the thoughts and things that were currently bothering him about this and focused on the task at hand, the cufflinks.

*************

“God, Cece it was absolutely mortifying!” You groaned with a frown before you just rolled over and buried your face in your pillow. Cece laughed from beside you and you pouted as you took a peek at her. “Don’t make fun.”

“I’m not! It’s just really funny actually.” She giggled and you groaned.

It had been a couple days since the ring incident at the jeweler and things had gotten a bit weird between you and Harry. Or maybe you just felt they had been weird after? You guys stuck to your plans with his friends and all but something just felt off to you. You had planned to spend the weekend together in the city, but the following day Harry said he had a work emergency come up and cancelled the rest of your plans at the last moment leaving you to have breakfast alone before you headed back to the suburbs on your own. He hadn’t been cold per se, but you knew Harry well and something had been a bit off after Friday. He barely got in touch with you for the rest of the day on Saturday, he only checked in to ensure you’d made it home safe. And now it was Sunday and all you’d gotten from him today so far was a “Have a good day” text. You had asked him how his work thing had gone and if he would be back in the area for dinner but he left you on read and that’s when you called Cece and she immediately came over.

“It’s not! Like I just…I freaked out, you know? Like I thought we were just messing around not…like…ughhh.” You groaned again in frustration and Cece sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Do you really think he’s upset at you over that?” She asked you and you shrugged.

“I don’t know, but that’s the only thing that like…that stands out from our normal interactions and conversations so I’m pretty sure.”

“Just ask him!” Cece advised with some irritation at your obstinance. “It’s that fucking simple.”

“No! What if it’s just a work or family thing and I’m just jumping to conclusions?” You asked her.

“Well you never know until you ask…” Cece said again and you sighed and glanced up to the ceiling. “And even if he’s not upset at that, clearly something about that is weighing on you. So what is that about for you? Like are you not sure of a future with Harry? Like maybe you’re concerned that he’s at a different level than you are in the relationship?” She fed a few ideas hoping you’d resonate with something and bite.

“It’s just that…like I’ve only been divorced a year, you know?” You said and Cece nodded, “I love Harry, so much! I need him like the air I breathe but I just…” you paused, “Things are just really great now, you know? What if…” you trailed off as your eyes welled up with tears, “What if marriage changes things between us, you know?” You asked in a small voice, “Like obviously I jumped into things with Cal so quickly…I didn’t take my time to make such a big decision, we were also together about a year before he proposed and look how that ended! I don’t want to do the same thing with Harry and have it all go to shit!” You were crying now and Cece frowned and just tutted and pulled you into her chest as you cried, “I can’t lose him, Cece. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I can’t.” You sobbed.

“Oh babe…” she hummed quietly as she gently scratched at your head. “I know that the future can be scary, but what you have with Harry is not what you had with Cal. He’s a different person, it’s a different relationship. And you’re a different person too, babe. You were fucking 23 when you started dating Cal, you were half kid, half grown up! You had just moved out of your parents’ house, you hardly had any life experience…” she reminded you, “Things are very different for you now. You’re more mature now so you’re going to have the right amount of doubt and ask the right questions. And I know you won’t be victim to the rose colored glasses of your relationship with Harry this time around.” She pointed out and you sighed as you pulled back and looked into her eyes.

“One would fucking hope…” you sighed and she smiled at you with sympathy, “I know that maybe I didn’t love Cal anymore by the time we divorced but it still took a toll, you know?” You explained and she nodded.

“Of course, babe. It’s a lot to go through.” She said and you nodded, “D-do you feel like maybe you rushed into this relationship with Harry?” Cece asked you and you sighed.

“I don’t even know anymore! Like at the time it didn’t feel that way…we just have so much chemistry and it was so easy, you know? Like was I on an oxytocin high from being with him that I just said yes to him?” You asked and Cece frowned.

“Did you feel any hesitation when he asked you to be his girlfriend?” Cece asked and you shook your head. “So the doubt is new then.” She said and you frowned.

“It’s not doubt…I mean I know he’s the one for me! It’s just…I’m scared.” You admitted with a small voice, “I’m scared that…that I’m repeating history.”

“Would you want to marry him if he asked?”

“Of course! I’d just need to have a talk with him about it to ensure that what happened with Cal doesn’t happen again. Like we haven’t even talked about that yet and next thing I know I’m trying on an engagement ring! It was just a lot…”

“Well maybe that’s what he was trying to do after? Not necessarily talk about when you’d get engaged or even a timeline. Maybe he just wanted to see if you were thinking similarly about what you saw for your future together?” She suggested, “Then you went and made a joke of it and well…I can see how that might possibly hurt his feelings or just make him pull back a bit to gain some perspective about where you two truly stand, you know?” Cece said and you sighed as those pieces started fitting together into a picture. A picture where you were the unserious asshole and he was just the lovely man that he’s always been.

“God, I am the worst…” you groaned.

“No you’re not, Y/N. You’re still healing from before. Now, that doesn’t mean that you jumped the gun with Harry. It just means that your last marriage was shit and obviously you’re going to be a bit more apprehensive when the topic comes up this time around.” She comforted you with a soft and caring smile.

“Thanks.” You sniffled and she nodded.

“Now, if I were you I’d try to talk to Harry about this as soon as possible just to clear the air. Just ask and if it’s not anything to do with that or with you then at least you’ve done some of the soul searching so that if it ever comes up again you don’t deflect by calling him a muggle.” She said playfully and you shrieked and covered your face with your hands.

“So embarrassing!” You wailed as Cece just laughed.

**********

You had texted Harry and told him that you needed to talk to him when he was next available. You waited about an hour before he responded and said that he also needed to talk to you about something and that he could come to yours in the evening and you agreed. After that response your afternoon with Cece was just riddled with anxiety; she tried to talk you down, but you were a wreck and convinced yourself that Harry was just coming over to dump you in person. She had left you about fifteen minutes before he was due at yours. You had taken a CBD gummy to calm your nerves and even had a quick, warm body shower to help expel some tension, but the erratic beating of your heart was just too much for you to control. When your doorbell rang, signaling Harry’s arrival, you took slow deep breaths as you made your way across your apartment and finally unlocked the door.

“Hey, come in.” You said with a small and nervous smile and he thanked you quietly as he stepped inside. 

He immediately got to toeing off his shoes and you just hurried over to the living room area while he finished up. When Harry finally made his way over he saw you staring at him anxiously and it put an awful feeling in his stomach. Maybe you were going to break up with him for the way he had been acting the last couple days. He hadn’t meant to shut down and pull away like that after the incident at the jeweler, but he was suddenly faced with the harsh reality that maybe you both were on completely different pages about your relationship and where you wanted it to go eventually. He knew that the mere act of withdrawing from someone who loves and trusts you instead of communicating openly and honestly can just drive an irreparable wedge between two people and he hoped to the high heavens that he hadn’t done that.

“Ummm, can I sit?” He asked as he pointed to the spot beside you and you nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” You assured him and he sat down but angled his body towards yours and then you moved around to do the same. You were criss-crossed and looking down at the heart-patterned fuzzy socks on your feet for a moment before he decided to break the silence.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” He asked nervously and you bit your lip.

“I’m ummm, still gathering my thoughts a bit. You can go first if you know what you want to say.” You offered and he nodded. He was nervous too, but at least if he got to go first and was just super genuine and apologetic you wouldn’t dump him if that was your plan for this conversation.

“OK sure.” He agreed and exhaled before looking into your eyes, “I’m really sorry for the way I’ve been acting the last couple of days. I lied about that work emergency I said I had on Saturday because I ummm….” He sighed, “I just got a bit…well, not a bit, I was -er I am upset at you for ummm…for what happened at the jeweler on Friday.” He said and you frowned, “I was…I was hoping that after having such an intimate and well, serious moment like that w-with the engagement ring? I hoped that we could maybe have a serious conversation about our future together, like see what our goals were and all that. But then you just went and deflected it by making a total joke of it and it…hurt my feelings and made me feel like maybe you were not as serious about me as I am about you. I should’ve said something when we got a moment to ourselves but I just thought you would deflect again or make light of what happened and I got nervous and just…shut down instead.” He explained with a frown and you immediately reached your hand out to his and he took it immediately.

“I’m really sorry, Harry. I also wanted to talk to you about that same thing.” You said and he nodded, urging you to go on. “I know what I did and I’m so sorry for hurting your feelings. I just…got really uncomfortable and freaked out a bit when I realized the conversation you were wanting to have with me.” You explained and he looked even more disappointed and you spoke up again quickly, “Not because the idea of having a future with you makes me uncomfortable! But because in my experience marriage doesn’t really guarantee anything…” you explained and his eyes softened as yours welled up again, “I mean, my entire marriage was a total lie! We had been so great before we took that step and it scares me to think that maybe marriage is the problem and that it’ll just ruin what we have together. And like…when Cal proposed to me we had also been together for about a year and I suddenly felt like I was in a re-run! And the last thing I want is to repeat history with you. I mean, I’ve only been divorced a year, so I suddenly felt like once again I was just jumping the gun because I was high on love or something and I started to doubt myself and my choices. Not you, never you though. J-just me and my judgement.” You explained with tearful eyes upon admitting that to him. You hated feeling like you couldn’t be objective and up until that point you were so confident that you had been objectively doing what was best for you by allowing yourself to fall for Harry.  

“Fuck…I wasn’t even thinking about that, baby. I completely forgot that you were even married before! Jesus… I’m sorry. I wasn’t even considering that or how you might feel about it.” He shook his head incredulously and clearly disappointed in himself for putting you in that position. You smiled despite your glossy eyes, because his reaction alone assured you that you were with the right person. Despite all of the love and feelings tangled up in this, Harry was the best thing for you, even objectively speaking. “Call me crazy, but to me it sometimes feels like we’ve been together forever.” He confessed with a timid smile and you squeezed his hand and nodded.

“Yeah, it does to me too.” You agreed earnestly, “I’m so sorry for making light of such a special moment, Harry. It truly was so special, it felt so…real and possible and promising, then I went and…ruined it by mentioning fucking magic…”

“It’s impressive how mentioning the magic truly sucked it out of the moment.” He mused with a grin and you chuckled and shook your head with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry…” you sighed again and he chuckled.

“S’alright, baby. I’m glad we’ve cleared the air.” He said looking more relaxed all around.

“Me too. Can you forgive me though, for making light of such a serious moment and of dismissing what you were so clearly feeling then? I promise I’ll be more communicative next time I feel any type of apprehension about anything.” You said and he smiled and leaned forward, grabbing your face gently and kissing your lips quickly.

“Of course I forgive you.” He assured you and you smiled, “Though, the thing you truly owe me an apology for, which you have even failed to mention during this very serious conversation, is the fact that you called me a bloody muggle.” He said with a grin and you giggled, “I’ve never been called a muggle before. That was your true crime.” He joked, lightening the mood between you two. You laughed lightly at this fact.

“Well I’m sorry for calling you a muggle. Out of anyone in the world, I am more than aware that you truly do have the magic in all the right places.” You said with a slightly suggestive grin and he chuckled and kissed you again.

“That I do.” He mumbled against your lips with a smirk and you kissed him back before you pulled back from it with smiles.

“Now, if you want a do over of that conversation I’m more than prepared to talk about it.” You said and he smiled.

“Yeah?” He asked and you nodded bashfully, “Well, obviously I want to marry you.” He said and your smile widened. “I just ummm…I wanted to know if you wanted the same thing down the line?” He asked and you nodded.

“I do.” You agreed.

“Great! Umm…so obviously this is uncharted territory to me, but you’ve had experience in this, which I completely failed to consider before…” he sighed, “But ummm…what would you want out of a marriage with me when we get to that stage? Or in your eyes what would a marriage look like?” He asked you earnestly. You had never been asked that before. Is that what people did when they talked about their future? If so, Cal had skipped all of this…he had told you once after a weekend shag-a-thon that he would marry you one day and that was about all of the discussion you’d had about it. 

“Ummm…obviously, don’t cheat on me.” You said with a smile and he nodded.

“Never.” He assured you.

“I think we’ve struck a really good time balance in the last few months with our work and our time together and with our friends. I would like to continue having open and honest communication…” you said and he hummed in agreement, “I would expect to maybe have a bit more discussion and input about our own professional endeavors. Like if my little company gets bigger and in more demand I would certainly talk to you about it before just jumping into all this extra work that would take away from our time together, you know? I think that’s more from my experience with Cal…like I honestly just believed that his work was just taking all of his time. I didn’t have the slightest clue about anything going on at the firm. He kept me in the dark and so it was just so much easier for him to lie to me and I would be none the wiser.” 

“Yeah.” Harry said with a frown as his thumb ran over your knuckles gently. 

“What else…” you hummed, “Oh, the finances bit!” You said and he nodded, “I like what Cal and I had arranged. We both contributed pretty equitably. We did have a joint account for that, but we also had our individual money and savings. I mean, we were a bit closer in earnings though, so that might look very different for us when we get to that point. But having some financial independence is a must for me.” You explained.

“I completely agree with you there.” Harry said and you smiled.

“Also kids. I mean, at least one…maybe two?” You said and his smile widened and he nodded, “I would expect that you be just as present and available for our kids as I would be when you’re at home. I mean, the home is a shared space, so I wouldn’t want to be like a wife, maid, cook, nanny, and business woman. I would expect that we share the load and that each of us took the same ownership over our home and our children.” You said and he nodded. “Also, I’d expect that we don’t let the romance die.” You said and he smiled.

“Wouldn’t dream of that, my love.” He assured you.

“I guess the overarching theme here is that I would want a marriage to look more like a partnership this time around. I don’t want to feel like I’m the only one stoking it to life all the time. I want to feel loved, seen, and supported by my partner. What about you? Any expectations of me?” You asked him.

“I agree with everything you’ve said. I want to marry you because I want to have a life with you. I want to be present for you and for our family. I want to share our time together as much as possible. I know that sometimes things can happen and we can sort of veer, so I would expect you to let me know when I’m not doing my part. I also expect that you allow me to do the same for you. If we do have kids I want to be very hands on, so I want to be able to choose how to parent with you. I want our goals for our family to align as much as possible, you know?” He asked and you nodded. “Obviously, the nitty gritty of each of these will not be figured out until we start to cross those bridges, but overall I would want our marriage to basically be like our safe haven from everything else. I want it to just be us and our family after a long day. It’s the place where I want to feel safe and comforted and loved as well. And I would want our kids to feel that too, to feel like being with their family is a breath of fresh air.” He smiled and you did as well.

“I love you so much, you know that?” You hummed happily.

“I love you too.” He whispered before bringing up your hand and kissing the top of it. “And ummm, I realize that you’re still healing from the disappointment of your last marriage, so I don’t want to push you or rush you through that. I mean, I would marry you next month if you wanted!” He chuckled, “But I want you to feel ready for that step with me. So whenever you are, just let me know and we can…call Dan, the magic man and see about some engagement rings.” He said with a bashful, but hopeful little smile and you just surged forward and hugged him, tackling him down into the couch and he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“I’m gonna keep working through it for us, OK? I promise.” You said to him quietly.

“I know, baby.” He hummed as he rubbed over your back, “God, I thought you were going to dump me…”

“Oh my god, I thought the same thing about you!” You sniggered and then pressed yourself up to look at him and he hugged around your waist lightly, “Was prepared to fight for you tooth and nail.”

“Oh same, baby. Can’t let you go that easily.” He hummed and you grinned.

“I’m going to kiss you now, OK?” You said and he nodded before you dipped down to attach your lips to his eagerly.

It was easy for your kisses to start to get more and more obscene the longer your lips moved together. Your hips were moving over his, grinding your centers together heatedly, longing for some much needed friction. Feeling his erection growing and stiffening up in his joggers was driving you crazy. You wanted to rip his clothes off and go to town on him. You moaned into the kiss as his hands cupped your ass and guided your pace. He slightly shifted and then hummed in delight as you were now perfectly resting over his cock with each grind of your hips. You bit down on his bottom lip, sucking gently, teasing with your tongue but not slipping it into his mouth. He was growing impatient, his fingers digging into your plush bottom indicated his need for you to do more.

“Need something?” You asked with a playful grin and he nodded. You knelt up so that you were straddling his lap now and peering down at him. “What is it, baby? What do you want?” You asked him softly. Suddenly his hand was gripping the back of your neck and pushing you down into a kiss. It was sloppy and urgent and you giggled into it.

“Suck me off.” he mumbled against your mouth. “Please.” He tagged on after a few moments of your eyes just staring into his playfully.

“Alright, only because you asked so nicely…” you said with a smile and he immediately bit down on his bottom lip when he felt your fingers dancing along the elastic band of his joggers.

“Mmm…on second thought turn around. Wanna taste you too.” He said with a smirk that just about melted you from the inside out.

“Definitely not gonna argue with that…” you mused and quickly got off of him and of the couch to get all the clothes off of your lower half. Harry also took advantage and did the same before tugging you back over to him and kissing you deeply before instructing you to get back over him again. You were cautious and allowed him to guide your movements until your wet center was being tickled by his puffs of air. It was making you shiver as a chill traveled down your spine until your skin was covered in goosebumps.

“So fucking pretty and so fucking wet for me.” He hummed, his lips continued tickling your labia as he spoke against you. He hadn’t applied enough pressure for you to feel him against any of the more sensitive spots, but it was keeping you on edge as he kissed over where your entrance was very lightly.

“Baby…” you sighed with impatience.

“Don’t whine at me, use your mouth like I want you to.” He said and you moaned before just taking a hold of his cock and dipping the head between your lips. You gave him a nice, hard suck and he moaned lowly against you. You swore that you felt the vibration of his moan tickle your clit, “Fuck take more, baby…shit just like that. So fucking good with that mouth.” He sighed in pleasure as you sunk down half way and stroked the rest of him with your hand.

You moaned when you felt his fingers slightly spread your folds apart before he started laving from your entrance to your clit, his pace was set to that of your sucking on his cock. He was so good at this, he knew all of your weak spots well. You ground against him when he pushed his thick, hot tongue into your entrance. He plunged it in and out, in and out, over and over…you were so sensitive right at your entrance, it was making your head spin and you started to sink lower on his cock. He started to thrust up into your mouth, making you drool down his cock. When his fingers found your clit you moaned around him which caused him to groan against you.

“Fuck…” he grunted as he kissed at your cheek and let his tongue wander up to your bum. You shivered as he ran his tongue over your ribbed little hole as he sunk his thick digits into your sopping entrance. He twisted his fingers a bit until he felt yours walls clamp down around his fingers hard, “Right there, baby?” You moaned in response and he chuckled and then hissed when you sunk all the way down his cock, “Oh fuck…fuck yeah…” he hissed as his abs tensed up when his tip collided with the soft back of your mouth. His fingers kept prodding into that spot that had your arousal dripping from you and it built your orgasm quickly. He always found your g-spot and it did wonders for your orgasms.

You were nearly gagging on his cock as he thrust up into your throat, seeking out his own pleasure as you started to lose your rhythm with how good his fingers were working you. You were trying your best to breathe properly through your nose but it was hard to and the lack of proper airflow was making you feel a little woozy, but you were thriving off it because you were feeling the pleasure far more than normal.

“Shit, I’m gonna come…need you to come for me first, baby. Please…” he panted and you moaned around him and pulled up to focus on his tip as your hand stroked him expertly. It brought you joy to see his thighs trembling as he tried to hold his orgasm back, “Baby…baby, please…” he chuckled and you let your tongue rub into his slit, tasting his slightly salty pre-come starting to pool at it, “Oh fuck…” he groaned and he had to pull his fingers from you and just grabbed your thighs as his head rolled back and he chuckled, the sound melting into a grunt until you felt his sperm starting to shoot into your mouth. You swallowed what you could, but could feel some spilling out of the side of your mouth. You then slowly pulled off but kept stroking very slowly, “C-can’t believe you made me come first…” he chuckled breathily, “You’re gonna get it.” He panted and you grinned mischievously.

“It was apology head.” You hummed, “Think I owe you a bit more apologizing though…” you suggested mischievously and he was about to respond but you dipped down and sucked around his sensitive tip before he could even stop you. He started to laugh a bit at the sensitivity and breathily begged you to ease up as the tingles and overstimulation seemed to run an electric current down to his toes. He was trying to mind you as he writhed a bit beneath you.

“Baby!” He groaned through gritted teeth and just as you were about to let him go and cut him a break he moaned, “Fuck, I’mgonnacomeagain…” he slurred his words as he squeezed his eyes shut. His thighs were completely tense, his legs buckled as he groaned, “Shit baby, don’t stop…Don’t stop, don’t stop!” He begged and seconds later you felt his second orgasm pooling into your mouth. Once again, he was flooding it up with his generous creamy load and when you could tell he was done you pulled off of him with a satisfied smile as you swallowed it all down. Before you could even move he landed a sharp slap to your ass that made you straighten up and he chuckled as you glanced back and shot him glare, he was smirking at you in the same manner you were smirking at him. Then you knelt up and carefully got off the couch, you were going to offer him some water when he shot up and grabbed your hand and you glanced over at him.

“What, baby?” You asked with a smile.

“You’re not getting off that easy.” He smirked, “Come on, take a seat.” He said with an inviting smile. 

“A seat?” You asked him with a smirk.

“Yeah love, on my face.” He grinned and well, he didn’t have to entice you any further. He was quick to get one of your decorative pillows under his head before you were lowering yourself down against his mouth. He kissed at you and tongued at your clit a few times and you watched as he got lost in you. You were letting him do his thing, but then his eyes blinked open and met your entranced gaze, “Use me to get off.” he mumbled against your sticky pussy, “Come on.” He encouraged. 

You could see the lust in his eyes, he was hungry for it as much as you were. So without apprehension you slowly let more of your weight down over him. Your teeth were pinching down on your bottom lip as you slightly ran your folds over his mouth and he immediately got to work and you let out a sigh of relief as he sloppily lapped at you.The best thing about this was that he was really into it and it made the experience that much more pleasurable. He had his arms wrapped around your thighs as his neck craned up a bit to get even closer if possible. The wet and slurping sounds of him feasting on you were riling you up and you couldn’t stop yourself as you started to grind down against him. You let your head tilt back as your clit bumped into his nose over and over again until you were seeing stars. You were sure you were suffocating him beneath you, but he was holding you down so tightly you wouldn’t be able to really pull away if you wanted. You looked down at him with pleasure drunk eyes to see that he was looking at you just the same way and you groaned through a smile as you guided yourself a bit lower so that your clit was over his mouth.

“Suck it please, I’m getting close.” You requested and he groaned and opened up before latching his mouth over the top half of your pussy. You immediately moaned when the pressure of his sucks started to make your clit throb incessantly.

  “Mmmm, just like that, baby…You’re doing so good. Fuck it feels so good.” You praised him as your fingers raked into his hair. Your eyebrows creased in when you felt the tip of his tongue slowly start to flick against your sensitive little bud every time he sucked it in. You were gripping his hair harder and harder the closer you got to your orgasm and he moaned at the sting of your pull on his thick curls. “Oh…you-you’re gonna make me come!” You alerted him and he started going a bit faster. Your breath was hitching as that unmistakeable warmth swimming in your belly started to spread all throughout your body. It was making you feel hot all over, “Yeah H, keep going like that…shit, just like that! Yes, baby!” You panted out your urgency. 

Your body broke out in goosebumps as you teetered on the edge of it all, your tummy was fluttering and your thighs were quaking around his head as you clung to the feeling of that little spark that was about to ignite and make your entire body burst with the most sensational pleasure. It was until he very gently grazed his teeth over your unsuspecting little bundle that you started to come undone. You felt as if you had no control of your body as your writhed over him hard. You were completely selfish about it as you rode his face to get off.

Harry’s hands slid up and under your top and pinched at your nipples hard as you came undone over his mouth. You were moaning, praising, and cursing him relentlessly as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. You knew you were being louder than you were when you guys were at yours, but you couldn’t help it. And even still, you could hardly hear yourself over the intense  ringing of your ears as your body fought it’s best to keep you coherent. You were drowning in the beautiful, warm waves of pleasure with each gentle suck he gave to your oversensitive clit. Even when you were shivering and gasping from the overstimulation you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t pull away from him. It all felt so good, you were lost and floating in pure bliss. Slowly, your orgasm started to dwindle down and you started to snigger just as he had when it was getting to be too much. When you began twitching and jerking over him from the sensitivity, he was far kinder than you were though and opted to just kiss at your messy folds delicately and lovingly until you were good and ready to get off of him. 

His big, warm hands kneaded at your breasts before tickling down your abdomen and thighs. Once again you were covered in goosebumps at the lovely, little tickles of his gentle fingers over your heated skin. You could let him do this all day if you could, but you needed to let him breathe properly, so you gathered your strength and knelt up a bit. He huffed and craned his neck up to give your swollen and slicked up pussy one final kiss before he let go of your thighs and allowed you to sink down and kiss him deeply.

“Thank you.” You whispered against his mouth and he smiled.

“No, no, no. Thank you.” He insisted with a grin and you giggled and kissed his chin.

“Have you had dinner?” You asked.

“Ummm…I just ate.” He said with a smug expression and you rolled your eyes playfully at him, “You should’ve seen that coming, baby.” He chuckled.

“I really should have…” you laughed breathily, “Seriously though. I didn’t because I was nervous for our talk.” You explained.

“I did, but we can order something in or go pick something up. M’feeling a little peckish.” He said.

“What about phở? S’quite cold. I could use something warm.”

“OK, maybe I can eat again.” He chuckled and you smiled.

“The place I like doesn’t deliver, we’ll have to order and carry out. Might be like 20-30 minutes?”

“Yeah, that’s alright.” He assured.

Soon he was getting dressed and hurrying to rinse of his face while you placed your order. Then you did the same as him and just decided to remove your makeup since it was getting late. When you emerged from your bathroom you saw Harry sprawled out on your bed scrolling through his phone and you just went over and straddled his lap again. He immediately dropped his phone and hugged you as you rested over him. 

“You really want to marry me?” You asked quietly and he smiled.

“Yeah, baby. I really fucking do.” He responded, “Been waiting my whole life for you.” He hummed as he caressed your back lightly.

“I think I have been waiting for you too.” You said softly and he kissed the top of your head a few times which made you smile.

You had no idea what kind of good karma you had accumulated throughout your life to deserve someone like Harry, but you were so glad that you had him in your life. He truly was your other half. You’d loved others before, but this was so different than all the other times. Finally, everything you gave was being reciprocated how you needed it to be. He made you feel important, safe, and cared for in a way that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. It was comforting to be around someone who made you feel that way. He often told you that he felt the same with you and nothing could make you happier than knowing that he felt your love as well. Harry was definitely more of a physical touch type of person, which you were a quality time person, but those two seemed to go hand in hand. You could lay in silence with him like this for hours, just being close to him, being in his presence for whatever amount of time always made you feel better.  

…. DECEMBER ….

You were currently getting ready for Harry’s firm’s Holiday party. A thing you had always wondered about but had never been invited to when you were with Cal. You were very excited because Harry told you it was quite lavish this year, especially after the very successful year he’d had. It was going to be formal/black tie optional because he really wanted to treat his employees after all of their hard work and effort.

Typically he gave a budget to each department and they would choose how to celebrate or if they just wanted to give out bonuses to their people. But he wanted to celebrate every single person who put in effort for him and his family’s company and give everyone bonuses, or at least that what you suggested and he took that suggestion. From the top executives to the interns who did the boring paperwork and coffee runs. Every person counted and he wanted them to feel that. He had asked you to work with Corey to vet a few caterers. 

He had hired a planner already for the organization and decor because he didn’t want you fretting over all of this, he wanted you to enjoy as a guest. Nevertheless, knowing this was your niche, he still ran all of the design elements and ideas by you which he knew would make you so excited. When he looked through the selection of caterers the planner offered he wasn’t really impressed. Since he didn’t find what he was looking for he of course he asked you and well now, everything was absolutely perfect. The party was later in the afternoon in the same building the firm was in, but on the top floor. It had been converted into an event hall the year prior and it was the perfect location as the mostly all glass walls gave breathtaking views of the city. In preparation for this most lavish event, you and Harry had been lazing around and leaving everything in the hands of the planner.

You had decided to make a whole weekend of it and stayed over at one of his for rent apartments in the city with him. It was lovely and you were just laying in the big, comfy bed as you looked through some emails from potential clients wanting to hire you for their special events. It was around noon when Harry finally got out of bed and he’d only done so because he still wasn’t sure what he would be wearing that night. He had brought along two options and he wanted to get your opinion on what would be the best look for the party.

“Baby, what do you think?” Harry asked you as he emerged in a classic black tuxedo and you glanced up from your laptop and then your eyes widened a bit before you smirked.

“Okay, James Bond! I see you…” You hummed at him and he chuckled and glanced down bashfully, shaking his head at your nonsense, “Christ, look at you.” You whispered in awe as you got out of bed and hurried over to him.

“Like it?” He asked.

“Oh man, do I…” you said as you straightened out the bowtie just a bit.

“I also brought a gray one that-”

“No, no. Wear the black one.” You said decisively with a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. It’s so classic and ummm, we’ll also match.” You said with a big smile, your excitement was shimmering in your eyes.

“Like a proper couple.” He said and you nodded giddily. “What dress did you end up getting?” He asked you.

“The Sau Lee one? Remember s���black with a big bow in the front?”

“Mmmm…faintly.” He said and you smiled.

“Should I try it on for you?” You asked coyly. And he gave you an expression that screamed ‘obviously’. “OK, let me do that. Go wait on the bed.” You instructed and hurried into the closet. 

The surprise you had for him was that you’d gotten some lingerie specifically for when you got back home. You hadn’t picked a dress with a bow as the top for nothing! You wanted him to feel like you were the present he got to unwrap on Christmas morning. Moments later you were buck naked and just slipping into the dress to show him. You had every intention of getting back into your PJ’s until you had to shower and get ready for the evening. You jumped around a bit, grunting as you tried to get the zip up.

“Need help?” He called out.

“I’ve got it!” You assured him and after a few moments you were smiling at your reflection with complete satisfaction before heading out of the large walk-in closet and into the bedroom.

“Oh, baby…” Harry exhaled and shook his head as his smile widened.

“What?” You giggled.

“How am I supposed to see you walking around like that all night and do nothing about it?” He chuckled and you smile widened.

“You’ll just have to be patient.” You said to him and he chuckled.

“I will try my best. My god, you’re perfect.” He hummed and you were literally buzzing with excitement.

“I’m gonna wear these long diamond drop earrings I picked up at a Francesca’s a few years back. Been trying to find a thing to wear them for and I finally can! Oh, I also got these black satin gloves that I think would make it look that much more fancy and that would look cute with a diamond bracelet I borrowed from Cece-”

“Cece has a diamond bracelet?” He asked you and you nodded.

“She has sugar daddies in powerful places!” You said matter-of-factly.

“The more I learn about her the more fascinating she becomes…like there’s gonna be a film about her life at some point.”

“Oh, for sure…” You chuckled and he smiled.

“Well I say yes, go for the whole look! Gotta commit to it, love.”

“Mmmm, you’re right. We’re gonna look so cute. We’ll have to have the photographers take nice pictures of us.”

“Definitely. Also, I know it would push us over budget a bit, but Corey talked me into the slow-mo 360 photo op thing so we’ll have that too.” He said.

“Nice, Corey…that’s gonna be great!” You grinned and he nodded.

  “Yeah, it was pretty sick. OK, now go change before we have to get you a new dress for tonight on account of me tearing it off of you.” He said and you cackled as you hurried back to the closet to get changed.

Though you knew he was being a little theatrical, there was a very real possibility that he would do just as he said; when he was in the mood he could be ravenous. You could be too, especially when it came to him. But he had proven this to you over and over again, even on that first time you hooked up with him. He had gone completely overboard, not that you didn’t benefit from it, but based on how things had been with you before it was a lot. And now you had built your stamina to better match his own.

It was around 2pm when you got in the shower. You and Harry were supposed to arrive at 4:30 so you had to hurry it up a bit. Even though you had begged him not to, he followed you into the shower and you had to pry him off of you to be able to get out. But when you were free you got to drying up, moisturizing, and getting your lingerie on. You wouldn’t be wearing a bra with your dress so you had on a deep red mesh thong, imprinted with black little hearts and the edges outlining the mesh were frilled. They were so cute and hyperfeminine. Best part was that you had a shade of red lipstick that matched the lingerie you were wearing as well. It wasn’t crazy lingerie but you loved the idea of having a horny little secret all night long. Maybe you’d tell him when you were riding up on the elevator. Tell him that you had a little treat for him at the end of the night… It would undoubtedly rile him up and keep him on edge.

*************

And rile him up you did. You actually had very punctual guests and so you actually got straight to greeting just minutes after you arrived. Of course, you were sat beside each other at dinner, but he was talking mostly to his colleague on his left and you to his colleague on your right. When dinner was cleared, everyone was asked to huddle around the screen at the Dj booth for a little slide show of the year in review all the while the event staff cleared the tables of the china quickly. Harry gave a small little speech about how grateful he was for everyone before letting them know that their night was their own from that point on.

There were the photo ops, a couple games, a few dessert tables, and of course dancing to a live big band ensemble. As you made your rounds you eventually ran into Cal and his date, Melissa, which seemingly was a bit older than you were, which was good for him. She was a very sweet woman from the short conversation you’d had and Cal seemed to be in a great mood with her around.

For a while, you and Harry kept getting swept away from each other, but that didn’t mean that your eyes weren’t constantly meeting, your gazes simmering with longing. Your eyes were hazy with lust, it was making your blood thump harder and faster through your veins. You were smoldering with desire for him, you’d been lusting after him all day and you were reaching a boiling point. You caught him raking his eyes down your plump-as-a-peach ass while his top row of teeth sunk into his plush bottom lip. You grinned and when your gazes met he signaled you to look right with his eyebrows and you saw that it was the exit of the salon. You bit your lip and nodded. You excused yourself from your conversation and hurried off to meet Harry by the door. 

When you finally caught up with him you tugged at the sleeve of his jacket and he glanced back and smiled and his hand found found yours and pulled you out to the corridor. The bathrooms were out there, so there were plenty of people hanging around out there, but he just beelined it to the elevators. He pulled you ahead of him and then hugged you to his body from behind. He slid one if his hands down to your lower tummy and pushed against it, inevitably pressing your body back against his until your bottom was flush with his front and you smirked when you felt the outline of his boner rubbing up against your butt.

“Gonna fuck you till you leave a huge creamy mess all over my cock.” He whispered before nipping at the shell of your ear.

“Fuck me…” you exhaled as your walls fluttered beautifully, making a tingle zap through your body.

“Alright hurry, push the ‘door close’ button.” He mumbled as he rushed you inside as the doors opened. 

In moments you were shooting down floors at a time until you came to a slow and smooth stop on his floor. As soon as he got to the floor he hurried around the reception desk there and dug in his front pocket to grab his key card and give you access past the heavy glass door behind the main reception desk. You guys rushed through other communal areas surrounding a few clusters of cubicles and other offices on your way back to his office, he was all the way at the back of the space so after you got through the lounge and the back offices, you finally made it to the administrative offices. And at the far end of that area was his office. He pushed the door open and held it for you as you hurried in, then he came up behind you grabbing you by the hips and guiding you behind his desk, kicking the chair away from it. You could just barely see anything so you bumped into the frame and he winced for you.

“You alright, baby?” He asked as he tapped against the base of his desk lamp and a very dim, warm glow lit up his office.

“Yeah, H.” You whispered and he hummed and looked you over once more before he kissed at your neck sloppily.

“Can I ride this up past your hips?” He asked of your dress.

“Nuh-uh, gotta take it all off.” you said and he hummed.

“S’that alright? Can I?”

“Yeah, baby…there’s not a bow over my boobs for no reason…” you smirked and he chuckled.

“Oh okay, I see…” he mused with a smile, “You really are a gift, baby. So exquisite.” He hummed and found your zipper before tugging it slowly down your back. When he saw the edge of your thong he smiled. “And look at this…Can I take a picture?” He asked.

“A picture? For what?” You chuckled.

“To have a wank over you when needed, of course! What else for, baby?” He asked rhetorically and you chuckled again.

“Yeah, get my dress off first.” You said and he even crouched down to help you step out of it. When Harry noticed your point toed black heels, he decided that they were staying on for this. He neatly draped your dress over the chair that had rolled a few feet away from you and then reached for his phone in his pocket.

“S’gonna be a .5 alright? Bend over and look back. Alright, hold it.” He said and then the flash went off. He then brought the phone down and opened the app and grinned. “Fuck, look at you…” he said showing you and you smiled. “These are too cute to come off.” he complimented as his finger tucked itself under the elastic band edge that narrowed and got lost between your plump, round cheeks. His finger traced down until he was down by your pussy. You were scorching between your legs and he brought four fingers together and petted at your pussy. The mesh there felt sticky and he moaned, “Fuck you’re sopping wet.” He chuckled as he set his phone down on the top of his desk and you nodded.

“Please get inside me. I need to feel you, baby.” You requested and he groaned.

“Alright baby, let me…let me get these off.” he said and just threw off his jacket and untucked his shirt before working the button and fly of his slacks. He rolled his briefs down with his pants before he grabbed his cock. He gave it a firm squeeze at the base and then at the head, groaning in relief at all that alleviated pressure.

You wiggled your ass at him, absolutely gagging to feel his girth spreading your tight, cushy walls apart in one go. He painted down your bum with his tip and then pushed you down onto the desk and you gasped as your breasts smushed into the cold surface. But you held your position and smiled as he spread your legs further with his own. His thick fingers gathered the center strap of your thong and moved it to the side, tugging hard enough that it exposed your pussy enough so that he could smear his cock against your folds and slick it up with your sticky arousal. 

“Fuck baby, please…” you begged.

“How do you want it.”

“However you feel like, just get in me.” You said and he wasted no time to nudge at your weepy little hole with the bulbous head of his cock. You were basically vibrating with anticipation to feel him sinking inside of you. You needed to feel it like you needed air to breathe. The last thing you expected was for him to just ram his cock into you, you gasped at the sudden and harsh intrusion and even let out a small whimper as he held himself deep inside you. Your walls spasmed around him, adjusting to his sudden and most welcomed intrusion.

“So fucking tight, fuck…” he grunted as he gently started to grind against you. His tip would brush against your cervix occasionally like this. You were slightly on your tiptoes and your legs were starting to tremble, but when you lowered your feet from that position to relieve the burning in your calf muscles his cock completely pushed against it and you shrieked and Harry chuckled. “Y’alright, baby?” He asked as he ground into you and you groaned softly, “It hurts?” He asked.

“J-just a little bit.” You got out as you sought out the pleasure despite the small discomfort.

“Yeah? Is my cock too big for you, baby…” he hummed as he stayed there, letting you get used to it, “Can’t handle it?” He asked and you whimpered at this feeling, he had never intentionally gone that deep it was so new for you. You loved it but it was a feeling to get used to for sure, especially with his size.

“I-I don’t know…” you confessed as you stayed perfectly still, letting him grind against you, prodding up against the deepest part of you rhythmically. You were breathing shallowly as you tried to get used to it because by no means were you about to ask him to stop, you needed it so bad.

“You sure you can’t? From what I’m seeing you’re handling it pretty well, baby. Fuck…just feel so good around me.” he groaned as he started going a bit faster and suddenly the sounds of your arousal intensified into loud squelching sounds every time his front collided with you. The filthy sounds had Harry’s ears ringing and he grinned, “S’starting to feel better?”

“Yes…yes fuck. Harder, baby. Please, fuck me harder.” You moaned and he did as you asked. He went at it with greater force and it had your eyes squeezing shut, you were dripping around his cock and he was absolutely obsessed with it. His fingers slithered down the front of your thong and started to toy with your clit. “Mmmm, that’s it.” You egged him on happily as his fingers swirled around your sensitive little bud. It was sending additional little shocks of pleasure down your legs. You started to moan when he picked up the pace and fucked into you harder and faster than before, his desk was shaking beneath you and you swore your legs were about to give. 

“Shit…” he grunted as he stilled deep inside of you once again. His eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw clenched. He was so fucking close and he didn’t want it to be over yet…but you should be getting back down to the party… “Can I turn you around, baby? Wanna see you when I come.” He said softly and you nodded and when he pulled out of you the emptiness made you feel so cold. Nevertheless, you pressed yourself up and he twirled you around and bent down a bit to lift you up onto the surface of the desk. He smiled as he got a look at you in the dim lighting. His eyes had adjusted enough that he could make out the slightly smudged mascara and eyeliner at the outer corner of your eyes and when he reached up to wipe it away you turned your head.

“No, don’t.” You said softly and he smiled.

“Not gonna make it worse, just wanna clean it up a bit so that-”

“I know, don’t want you to clean it up.” You responded quietly and he smiled.

“Want to go back up there looking all messy and fucked out, is that it?” He asked you and you smiled bashfully and nodded.

“Yeah, just a bit.” You hummed back and he smiled.

“Well in that case…” he grinned and grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. You were wearing a red lipstick so you had been very cautious all night to not stain yourself or anything around you, but suddenly Harry was sucking on your bottom lip, surely smearing you and himself with it and when he pulled back he grinned and just swiped his thumb carefully around  your lips and the corners of your mouth. Harry’s mouth was stained all over as well and you giggled as you reached up and did the same, but seeing as his skin was bare, the color had stained his skin directly and it left behind a slight deep pink stain. “Get me again.” He said softly and you looked into his eyes.

“You sure?” You asked and he nodded.

“But my neck. Leave a mark yeah?” He said lowly and you bit your lip pensively, “M’all yours my love, please.” He requested.

“OK, but while you finish fucking me.” You said and his smile widened and he nodded in agreement and ran his hands up your thighs to reach your thong.

“Lift up a bit.” He said quietly and you did so to allow him to slip it to the side and guide his erection back towards your entrance. You rocked your hips forward to help get him inside and you moaned in relief when he was lodged deep inside of you once again. He smiled down at you and brought one of his hands to your breast and squeezed it before brushing his thumb over your nipple as he started to rock into you. “Deep like before?” He asked and you nodded quickly and he grinned, “Liked that?” He asked quietly and you smiled timidly.

“Yeah, baby.” You agreed, “Want to be able to feel it for days.” You said and he moaned and delivered one sharp thrust into you. He watched your eyebrows crease together at the dull ache from his cock ramming into your cervix again.

“S’that good for you, baby?”

“Yeah, more please.” You hummed and he kept going like that. He wasn’t going fast, just hard and deep. It was making your tummy swarm with butterflies and your hands pulled him down so that you could latch your lips to his neck. You kissed and sucked at his skin, leaving behind a love bite as he plunged deep into you.

“Fuck baby, m’getting close. Get your clit for me, please. Want you to come with me.” He panted and you did as he asked and quickly got your fingers into your bottoms and started to rub in time with his thrusts. You started to squirm a bit as the pleasure started to extend beyond the pit of your stomach. Your legs were tightening around him as you whimpered his name. “Oh god…oh fuck, baby y-you’re gonna make me come!” He grunted as he started to lose his rhythm, “Look at me, Y/N. Right at me, baby.” He mumbled and you pulled away from his neck to lock eyes with his and his brows furrowed as he shook his head, “So fucking perfect.” He complimented you, “Gonna stuff you full.” 

You swallowed thickly and your jaw went slack as your body started to tremble with your impending orgasm. You gasped for air and fought to keep your eyes on his as your toes started to curl and the fire started to spread from your belly all throughout your body.

“I’m coming!” You gasped as you started to whither around his cock. The last thing you saw was Harry smiling before your eyes squeezed shut. And then he started to thrust into you so fast, chasing his own release. He kept colliding with your g-spot and it was making your withering orgasm turn into another one. You could hear him groaning and feel his warmth filling you up as he came inside you, but you started to rub your clit faster until your walls were pulsing around his cock again in another orgasm that had you moaning loudly without any regard for where you were or who could be around. You were just seeing white behind your closed eyelids as this one hit you even harder than the first.

“Shit…shit, baby! Oh fuck, baby!” He gasped in sensitivity but you locked your legs around him and held him in you as you relished in your second orgasm. Your ears were ringing and your entire body was shivering in ecstasy. You could hear him laughing a bit, fighting through the intense sensitivity of still being buried to the hilt inside of your hot and throbbing walls. You were both panting, trying to catch your breaths and come down from that. You just held each other in silence for a bit and you gently rubbed at his back as he hugged you close. “You really are the best gift I could’ve ever asked for, baby.” He said quietly and you smiled and craned your neck up to kiss his jaw. He let you go and you pulled back from each other and then reached for his jaw, ready to wipe off the faint kiss mark you’d left on him there and he pulled his neck back out of your reach and you grinned, “Gonna show it off too.” He said and you smiled.’

“OK, baby.” You said, clearly giddy with his decision to have him wearing your lipstick print on his skin.

“Are you having a nice time?”

“Oh yeah! Everyone is so nice. I’m having a really good time. We should get back down there actually, maybe do some of the games?”

“Yeah.” He hummed but made no effort to pull out of you just yet, “I love you so much. Too much.” He said softly as he ran his thumb over your cheek bone and you leaned into his touch.

“Too much?” You questioned through a giggle and he chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, like sometimes s’too much for my body. Like, it feels like I can’t breathe.” He explained with a smile and you grabbed his face and pecked his lips quickly.

“So I take your breath away?” You whispered and his smile widened as he huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess you do, baby.” He hummed. “Do I take your breath away?” He asked and you grinned and shook your head. This made Harry pout and you smiled at him.

“It’s worse than that!” You said through your smile.

“Is it? Tell me then.” He hummed before quickly pecking the tip of your nose.

“You know how when the vampires can over hypnotize someone in What We Do In The Shadows?” You asked and he nodded, “And the person gets the “brain scramblies”?” You said and he chuckled, “That’s what you do to me. Makes my brain feel all fuzzy and staticky. Can only think about you and nothing else.” You finished and he was smiling wide.

“That’s cute, baby. But I think not breathing is worse. Therefore, I love you more.” He said and you smiled.

“Actually, you’re wrong. Your brain is what technically gives you life. It holds the information that makes you breathe on instinct. It’s your command center. Without it you wouldn’t be able to function at all! And somehow, you’re so entangled in mine that I know your mood just by the greeting you use when-” he interrupted you with his lips attaching themselves to yours in a deep and sensual kiss. Your heart fluttered and it felt like time stopped for a few seconds. After a few perfect and tense moments you pulled back and your eyes blinked open and your gazes locked, “-come home at night.” You finished and he smiled.

“I definitely love you more.” He said.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, baby?” He asked with a smile.

“Ummm, I’m ready.” You said and he looked at you with confusion for a second, “To take the next step with you.” You said and his brows furrowed as he took in what you said. “You’re the love of my life. I don’t want to live a single day without you by my side.” You said sincerely.

Harry couldn’t contain his joy and he just pulled you into his arms once again and you exhaled against him, so happy and relieved to have finally told Harry something that had been on your heart since a few days after your conversion about your future. You were so proud of yourself for just listening to your intuition when it came to this decision. After a few moments of just holding each other he pulled back and gently grabbed your face in his hands. His eyes bore into yours, looking into them so sincerely you could feel his emotions radiating off of him in waves  and he smiled wide and kissed you deeply until you both couldn’t breathe.

In this moment it felt like you were the only two people in the world; even with the gorgeous cityscape bustling with life behind you, it felt like the world was all yours. You hadn’t experienced happiness with another person like you did with him. You guys made each other better and that was the point, wasn’t it? To be with someone who helped you be your best. So when your parents inevitably asked over the holidays what your goals were with each other you two could tell them with certainty that you were going to start a life together soon. Every part of you felt alight and you couldn’t wait to get started in planning your future together. Your kiss ended and he sighed and gazed deeply into your eyes.

“Oh baby, I’m gonna do everything I can to make you so, so happy.” Harry said softly but with a conviction you felt transferring into you as well. You smiled at this and squeezed him just a bit tighter.

“You already do, baby.” You assured him happily.

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[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 15

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁

**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.

If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!

Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.

Part 15: “The Good Part”

“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.

His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.

“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.

“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.

Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.

The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s” men busted for all manners of bullshit.

“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”

“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”

Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”

Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.

“Dad, it’s your move.”

Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.

“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.

Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Daniel just smiled.

It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.

Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.

Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.

You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.

If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.

“How old were they?” you asked.

Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”

You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”

Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.

“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”

Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”

Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.  

Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.

“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.

Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”

Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.

“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”

Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.

He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.  

“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”

Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”

She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”

You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.

“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.

“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.

You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.

You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)

Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.

“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.

“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”

Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.

“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”

You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.

“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”

“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”

Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.

“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.

“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”

You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”

He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.

“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”

Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.

“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”

“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”

You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.

“What model is this?” you asked.

“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.

He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.

What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.

“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”

Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.

His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”

It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.

“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.

You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.

You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.

“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.

“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”

He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.

You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.

“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”

Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes. 

“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.

It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.

“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.

Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”

When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.

In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.

John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”

“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.

There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.

“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.

“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.

“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.

Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.

“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”

You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies. 

“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.

You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.

Or as Dean would say, Your people. 

To you, that was life.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.

You shot him an amused look.

“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.

Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.

“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”

Your brows raised. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”

You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”

“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.

You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.

“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).

“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”

You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.

Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.

He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.

But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.

Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.

“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.

You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.

“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”

He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”

“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.

You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.

“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”

“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.

You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.

“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”

Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.

“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.

John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.

In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.

Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.

By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.

You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.

Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.

You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.

Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.

“Are you asking?”

He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.

“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.

He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.

“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”

“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.

“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.

You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan. 

First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.

You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.

By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.  

“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.

Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.

“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.

You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”

He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.

“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.

“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.

Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.

You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”

You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.

“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.

Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.

“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.

Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.

Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.

“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”

Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh. 

“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”

Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.

“Just relax.”

You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.

You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.

Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.

He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.

…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.

When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.

He groaned deep, surprising even himself.

Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”

Dean chuckled. “Never.”

You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”

“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.

Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.

You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.

You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.

“I love you, you know?” you said.

Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.

He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”

You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.

He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.

You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.

Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.

You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.

You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.

But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.

There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.

You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.

You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.

You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.

But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”

He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.

Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.

It was a heady feeling, and you needed a moment just to recover. Even though you were on birth control, every time he came inside you still felt like a dangerous, delicious game.

But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.

It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…

“You like kids, huh?”

The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.

Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.

He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.

Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”

“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”

He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”

Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.

“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.

You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.

“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.

“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”

You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.

“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”

He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”

You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.

“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.

Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it. 

“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach. 

“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”

He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”

He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.

And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”

Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.

“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”

AN: All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?

...Ready for some more drama? 😏

Next Time:

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

Keep Reading: PART 16

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[hedgehog-moss]

I’ve been having a bit of a hay shortage lately—January was very cold and snowy so the animals ate a lot, plus I have an extra mouth to feed this year, and I hadn’t realised Poldine would eat so much in her first year! Next summer I’ll make sure to buy enough hay for 4 animals rather than 3 and a half.

In the meantime I’ve been offering various hay substitutes, such as brambles, or my Christmas tree. It was waiting on the pile of green waste I intend to burn in early spring, until I remembered seeing someone’s ad in the local paper that went “if you want to recycle your Christmas trees, give them to me, my goats will love them!” I figured well, llamas are tall goats, maybe they’ll enjoy a bit of Christmas tree, and they did !

(Baby Poldine is always very circumspect about new foods, but she did end up tasting it.)

Pirlouit was also pleased with this unexpected breakfast. They all took turns nibbling at the tree until only the trunk was left :)

Still, I was trying to contact nearby farmers to ask if they have some hay to spare (it’s not that I’ve run out, I just want to be prepared in case of another cold spell), and I also moved the animals to my other pasture down the road, as there’s still some dry grass there. It’s not well-fenced though, and I wasn’t very confident in this pasture’s ability to contain Pampe, but I figured—there’s no grass to be found in any nearby pasture, so why would she try to leave this one?

(Because Pampe.)

I left the llamas & donkey frolicking in this exciting new place (Poldine looked enchanted to explore a new pasture, she was bounding around like a baby goat!), and I went skiing today, as a (late) birthday gift to myself. The skiing station is just half an hour away and this has become a very anticipated birthday ritual since I moved here! This year I waited until I had found some way to keep the animals busy before taking a day off, so there would be no llama leaks in my absence.

So of course I got a text from a neighbour in the afternoon, telling me my llamas had been spotted on the road, going towards the village. (“Pampe looked determined. She was going to the grocery shop to get muesli.”) (Pampe is so famous, people even know her favourite snacks 😭)

Since I was literally on a ski slope I decided to turn my conscience off and pretend I hadn’t seen the text. I thought, if the llamas do end up in the village I’ll get more texts updating me on their position and I’ll be a responsible llama owner and go home (promise), but they’ll probably get off the road and into the woods somewhere between my house and the village and they’ll spend the afternoon eating communal shrubs and they’ll be fine.

When I went home a few hours later, I found my donkey alone in the pasture where I’d left him in the morning—we both had to wrestle with a moral dilemma today, and Pirlouit’s was “do I loyally follow my friends and potentially starve to death, or do I stay by myself in this place with very adequate dry grass to munch on?” He really hates being alone, yet he chose food over friendship.

I brought Pirou back to his normal pasture (he wouldn’t have liked to find himself alone after sunset) and went looking for the girls. I’d had a neighbour on the phone who had talked to someone who’d talked to someone who had seen the llamas and had “shooed them in the general direction of your house.” That was some very helpful shooing, because I found them just a couple of kilometres away, and indeed going in the right direction.

Pampelune leading the way, determined to go home before night; Pampérigouste last, internally grumbling that it was still early and they could have explored the world some more.

I usually jog with the llamas when I bring them home so we don’t spend too much time in the middle of the road, but there aren’t many cars when the road is icy and also after a day of skiing, you don’t really feel like jogging a few km at a brisk pace in heavy snow boots. So we went home in a slow and solemn procession.

I called the people who had told me about the llamas’ whereabouts to thank them, and explained that this escape was the result of a failed attempt to move the animals to my poorly-fenced second pasture because I don’t have a lot of hay left—and one of them told me he could spare a bale and he’d bring it to me tomorrow!

“So I’ve done everyone a favour” (is probably Pampe’s conclusion.)

I gave them hay as I figured they hadn’t had time to graze much in the other pasture, but only Pampe was hungry. Well, Pirlouit is always hungry, but Pampe indignantly rebuffed him. “You chose food over adventure. You don’t get to eat the food I’m getting as a reward for a successful adventure.”

Pirlouit is completely resigned to the fundamental unfairness of a dutiful donkey’s life.

[scar-lie]

Their First Love [Natasha]

Summary : What happens when someone come back to get what's them.

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romsnoff x Bucky Barnes

Warning : None, I guess

Word Count : 2,642

A/N : Hi everyone so sorry that I didn't post the chap 9 of Omega and the crossover oneshot, my school ends right before Christmas eve, then my Mom got admited to the hospital and well next is new year so it's kinda busy, sorry again but this oneshot is in my draft for over a month or week now so this is my sorry token for you all

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE 🥳🎉

{THEIR FIRST LOVE PT. 2}

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

You sigh, getting off the elevator in the compound to visit Natasha. You two have been friends for over two years now. You two met in the coffee shop nearby your company building. She sat at your table with your permission because, at that time, the shop didn’t have any vacant seats left. Since then, you two have hit it off and become friends. After a year, you started to date, and you courted her until today.

But once you get off the elevator and pass the two doors that lead into a common room of the Avengers quarters, you frown at seeing everyone gather around and see Natasha clinging to a guy.

“What’s happening? "You question walking forward; everybody looks at you.

“Oh, Bucky, the winter soldier, Steve’s pal back in the days, and the Bucky I’ve been talking about—uhm, he's back and sided with us,” Natasha explains, giving you a hug and a kiss on your cheek.

“Hi, Y/N, nice to meet you.” You offer him a hand, but he just looks at it without emotion, so you take your hand back.

"Ok,” you mumble, and sit down on the couch and just look at them, especially Nat and Steve, who have pampered this new guy with questions and appreciation that he’s here now.

You just let them have fun and enjoy their time. You understand why, especially Steve and Nat. I mean, that’s Steve's pal or brother, and that’s Natasha’s first love, the love she found in the red room and KGB, where torture and killing grow, where she trains to be a black widow. But you’re not going to hide the fact that you’re jealous and scared that what you and Nat have will end soon.

You let it slide the first few weeks, where Natasha was constantly clinging to Bucky and having quality time, and set you aside, but when the 5th week struck, you confronted her, where she just got home from a 2-day mission with Bucky, Tony, and Sam.

She’s tired and exhausted. Their mission goes south, which comprises a lot of people's lives, and all she wanted to do was go home, get the dirt and blood off of her body, and hope the frustration and self-blame will go down the drain too with the rest of the dirt, and sleep the night off.

But that’s not what’s waiting for her; instead, you’re in her bed, sitting and looking at the wall in front of you. When Natasha enters her room, she sighs and comes to kiss your forehead, then goes off to go to the bathroom.

“Be honest with me, Natasha... Are we still dating, or will you and Bucky go back together? "You asked before she could close the door, not looking at her form, which was frozen in her spot.

Natasha frowns, slowly turning back at you with a confused look. She doesn’t know how to answer it, and she herself doesn’t know either. All she knows is that Bucky is here; she wants to spend time with him, but at the same time, she’s building a relationship with another person, which is you. She just sighs, trying to look into your eyes, but you keep your eyes straight.

“I-uhmm….I don’t know…I-” You didn’t let her finish her sentence; you already heard enough, so you stood up, took your bag on the sofa, and headed out to her front door. Natasha quickly followed you.

“Call me if you already have an answer,” you mumbled enough for her to hear, but Natasha never let you get out that easily.

"Hey, hey, hey! No, you’re not going to walk out on me; we’re going to talk this out like a mature adult.” She pulls you inside and closes the door of her room.

“Ok, I admit that I spend more time with Bucky and that I’m putting you aside, but that doesn’t mean that I will end things between us.” She started searching for your eyes to look back at her too.

“And there’s a "but" coming, right? "You look at her; you already know how this is going. Well, you should have known better.

“But I don’t know, I... I still yearn for him... I don’t know, ok, please understand,” she whispered, and you just nodded. You can’t do anything about it, though. I mean, you two don’t put a label on who you both are, so she’s still free to choose him over you.

"Ok.” That’s all you said, and you walked past her.

“That’s all you’re going to say? "You sigh again and turn around, giving her a small, tight smile.

"Yeah, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to be angry or what? I mean, we’re not together, Nat; we’re just dating. I’m your suitor, Nat, so I don’t have the right to be angry or tell you to distance yourself from your first love, so yeah, that’s all I have to say.” With that, you leave her room and go back to your house as soon as possible to sleep it off and get ready for your endless meeting tomorrow, but God has other plans because you met Bucky on the way.

“Hi…..Y/N right? "Bucky, stop you before you can leave the two doors in the lounge where he sat, with snacks in his hand and a coffee table, so you stop and turn around to look at him tiredly.

“Yeah, that’s me. Why? "You sigh when he stands up and stands in front of you, trying to intimidate you, but honestly, if you’re not tired and don’t give a fuck, you’re probably intimidating him too.

“I don’t appreciate you getting close to Natasha, so could you please distance yourself? "I scuff at him, standing straight, grasping my handbag in front of me with my two hands.

“Maybe I should be the one telling you that, because before you come along, we’re dating,” you calmly said, giving him a tight smile.

“Well, are you two together? "He challenges you, and you clench your jaw, looking up at him.

"No.” You didn’t back down, and he smirked, satisfied at your answer.

“I suggest you start moving on, because I’m courting her.” He gives you a sly look and pats your shoulder, then leaves.

You clench your jaw and give him a dirty finger, leaving the building with irritation and annoyance, and go straight home to wash away all the stress and tiredness in your body since this morning, when your day started to go south.

You didn’t bother to go to the compound for a week now because of a hectic workload, meetings here and there, and some dumbass who can’t do their jobs properly. Even though you missed Natasha and wanted her hugs and cuddles, you couldn’t visit her, so you just kept gifting Natasha food or flowers and texting her, but most of the time she ignored you, and you just rolled your eyes at that, thinking they were probably having their time together, so today you’re going to visit her.

But once you get to the compounds quarter, your mood quickly drops seeing Natasha leaning toward Bucky while watching some movies, but you put your jealousy and irritation aside and great her.

"Hey, Nat,” you say. She looks at you and quickly stands up and greets you with a hug and a kiss in the check that makes Bucky look at you dirty.

“Hi, how are you? You haven’t been here for a week now.” You give her a smile and show her the Chinese takeout you brought.

“Just busy in the office, that's all. Are you hungry? "You asked, taking her hand to drag her into the kitchen to eat.

"Sorry, but she’s full; we just got home to eat lunch.” He smirked at you, and you gave him a glare while he stood up and took Natasha off of you.

“So if you wouldn’t mind, we’re watching a movie," he says, then guides her back to the couch while Natasha just looks back at you, looking for your reassurance, but you keep neutral, which makes Natasha worried.

"Uhm, wait, Buck, actually, I’m-” Before she can get out of Bucky's grasp, you walk straight back to the kitchen, putting down the paper bag, and go back to leave the building.

“In case you..." you point to them with a tight smile.

“Get hungry or just give it to someone who wants it; I’ll be heading out now.” Then you leave with a sigh; you’re losing hope; well, he’s her first love; you can’t fight with that; that’s her greatest love; and now the only option you have is to accept it, because sooner or later, you’re expecting Natasha to talk to you and end things between you two.

And you’re not wrong, because the next time you visited, you saw them together in the gym, sparing, well, more intimately; they kissed passionately, savoring their time together, and that broke your heart completely into pieces.

And you don’t have the heart to ruin it for her, so you just give yourself a smile, nod, and turn back, going to her room to get some of your stuff you left there, and well, wait for her there to have a talk. You know she’s not going to say it to you right away, so you’ll confront her.

Once Natasha entered the room with a big smile on her face and a tint of red in her check, saying goodbye to Bucky, you didn’t look up at her; you just looked at her waist until you heard her gasp, shocked to see you sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Y/N," she mumbles, not moving a single inch in her spot until she clears her throat, having the courage to tell you something.

“Glad to see you here, cause I need to talk to you too,” she carefully said, reading your dementor, but she failed, so she just gulped the lump on her throat and just blurted out.

“I need to end things between us because I know it’s not fair to you if I keep this hidden, but... I'm getting back with Bucky.” Her heart beat faster. Looking at you, you scuffed and nodded. At least she had the courage to tell you.

Natasha quickly became tense and gasped when she saw a few bags already packed. You looked up at her with a neutral dementor, the one you always wore before you met Natasha, and this made Natasha feel uneasy.

"Well, I guess it is my cue to leave now, since you already dropped the elephant in the room.” You stand up, taking your bag, and walk past her.

“I’m sorry,” she shouts, running to you. She feels guilty and hurt, even wanting you to look back at the eyes that she’s been searching for.

“Don’t be; you don’t owe me an apology or explanation…..and so do I, when I'll make no exception to anyone, including you, and when you don't have the same privilege you had before.” This makes Natasha’s eyes go wide; she knows how you are around in your company; you’re cold, strict, and scary.

“Excuse me, Miss. Romanoff, I still have a company that needs someone to run with.” With that, you leave the building and sulk yourself to work, declining every call and knocking on the door, letting your assistant be the only one who can come and go in your office, and rescheduling all your meetings for a week.

If you will move on, Natasha is no exception. You need to distance yourself from her and treat her like everyone else around you, even though she’s still your friend.

This doesn’t settle Natasha very well; sure, she’s happy that she’s with her first love that the KGB ripped out of her, but the unsettling feeling deep in her bothers her.

Sure, she’s happy going on dates, cuddling, spending time together, and having sex with Bucky, but it still feels wrong to her. It feels wrong deep inside her, and she tries to set it aside, but the feeling keeps building and building up, like she’s going to explode one day.

"Hey, are you ok? "Bucky asked her with concern. He just got out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, while Natahsa just lay down in the bed, lost in her thoughts, and only the covers were covering her naked body while the morning sun started to rise.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m ok, just thinking.” Natasha looked at Bucky with a smile, so Bucky quickly lay beside her and buried his face in her neck.

“You’re thinking about her, do you? "Bucky whispers, looking up at her while she scuffs and shakes her head.

“What are you talking about, and who’s “her” you’re referring to? "Natasha, just look at him for a few seconds and go look somewhere else.

“You know what I’m talking about; I can feel it, Nat. You want her; you’re looking for her even though you keep saying to yourself that you’re okay." Natasha didn’t answer right away, thinking carefully.

"No, you're wrong,” Natasha just said and stood up, taking the cover with her.

“I already have what I want,” she said, trying to convince Bucky, but the truth is, she’s trying to convince herself more than Bucky.

Bucky didn’t argue with her; he knows Natasha is a stubborn one. Sure, he doesn’t know her very well now; things change, and he doesn’t want to push it.

But Natasha thought of it all day, and Bucky observed her the whole time, accepting that sooner or later Natasha would need to talk to him.

That day, Natasha went out to walk, think, and clear her head, letting her feet take her wherever they took her. That said, now she’s standing in the cafe shop where she first saw you, your memories of her flash in her mind, missing how you smiled and how soft you were to her, how you looked intimidating the first time you two met.

Then Natasha went to your favorite flower shop, where she most likely saw you before you courted her, buying different flowers every 3 times a week or maybe 4, then she visited the fast food chain you always whined to go to because you loved their onion rings and twisted fries there, then she went to your favorite burger food chain until she went around the town buying things that you always whined about.

Until she’s standing in front of your company building, frozen in her spot while looking up to the high tower where you are probably in and on one of the floors at the top, this makes her heartache, and she misses going here ever so often to visit you and spend time with you.

She sighs and decides to go in. Reasons? to give you the stuff she bought from different stores around the town, and she hopes that you will let her in or meet her.

But once she got inside, the receptionist wouldn't let her in with the reason—Ms. Y/L/N is busy and doesn’t want any visitors—she closed her eyes, cursing to herself, knowing she couldn't just walk past security or make her way around to get to you. She knows you already hate her, and doing the dirty job to get to you will fuel you more.

Natasha started to walk back, but not until someone screamed your name. That’s when she turned around and saw you, looking beautifully in your sexy business suit that shows all your assets with three bodyguards, and let the woman in your right arm. This broke Natasha, especially seeing who the woman is—it's the woman you talked about to her, your first love.