#yeah the brown looks shit brown don’t mention it

[mangosundae]

Made the locket from ni no kuni with air dry clay! Originally made it as a christmas tree decoration but it’s a weeeeee bit too heavy, so it’ll just join my vast collection of knickknacks and doodads.

[lilgynt]

i want to blow up my coworkers BRAIN

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter one

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a small town somewhere in beautiful greece, early morning coffee runs, and the cute boy that you keep running into. (4.8k)

warnings: sort of shy!reader, a bit of swearing, lando being both smooth and a little awkward

a/n: series masterlist coming soon :)

“That guy is totally checking you out.” 

You reluctantly drag your attention away from the truly addicting pasta you’d ordered to meet your friend’s gaze across the table, slightly suspicious, but also a little curious as to what she’s talking about.

Samira is grinning knowingly at you already, mischievously, like she’s got a tasty bit of information you don’t know about. Probably not tastier than the food in front of you, but your interest is piqued nonetheless. 

“What guy?” You sigh, giving into your curiosity quite easily. She arches a perfectly sculpted brow at you, then tilts her head to the side discreetly, and you follow her gaze towards—

Oh. That guy. 

You saw him on your way to your seat at first, a group of four guys sitting a few tables away in the same patio area of the restaurant, drawing your attention even before you’d sat down. Artfully messy brown curls swept up out of his face, thick dark brows framing bright eyes crinkled with laughter at something his friend had said, you’d felt yourself growing conscious of the man’s existence with just one glance. 

And then his gaze had flicked to your friends passing his table, but more importantly, your own gaze, and you’d nearly stumbled on your own feet.

Your cheeks had grown hot at the intensity of his stare following your path to your seat, not to mention the embarrassment that had flooded your veins at the thought of nearly eating shit in front of this very attractive stranger. 

Had you grown the nerve to look back at him at the time, you would’ve seen his lips quirk into a goofy grin, as well as all the shoving he’d gotten from his friends as they’d caught wind of his unabashed staring. 

Now you’re almost done with your meal, and you could swear you’ve felt him looking at you plenty more times. Not that it mattered at all, because your eyes have been firmly glued to your food and your friends only. 

Okay, so you might’ve hastened a few covert glances over in his direction too, but he’s been chatting away to his friends every time, so maybe you’re just making nothing into something. 

“Don’t even try to hide it, you’ve been making eyes at him too, girl,” Your other friend, Maren, pipes up, elbowing you in the arm playfully. The last of your girls, Camille, nods her agreement, smiling gleefully. “He’s hot.”  

Right, so perhaps not as covert as you’d thought. 

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” You reply, spearing another piece of pasta through your fork. You’re kicked under the table at that moment, hard enough to warrant the whine that escapes your mouth. “What?” Now you're met with three pointed glares your way. “Okay, fine. Yeah, he’s cute.” 

“Go talk to him!” 

“Go flirt with him!” 

“Absolutely not!” You exclaim. Your voice comes out louder than you intend and you duck your head quickly, worried you’d disturbed the peace of the quiet area. “He’s probably got a girlfriend already or something.” 

“If he does, she better dump his ass because he's been giving you fuck me eyes all damn night.” 

“No, he has not,” You hiss, which only gets you yet another look from them. You’re starting to get tired of all these looks, actually. “Has he? I mean—are they? Fuck me eyes?” 

“Oh yeah, he—” 

Camille clears her throat, cutting Samira off. “No, they’re not,” She assures you, placing a hand over yours. “He’s been smiling every time he looks over.”

“Maybe he’s looking at one of you guys?” 

“He’s definitely been looking at you.” 

You bite your lip, nose scrunching skeptically. You haven’t really been the subject of any guy’s attention before, let alone one as handsome as this one. You’ve learned it’s better not to get your hopes up when it comes to certain situations. This seems like one of them. “Are you sure?” 

“If I’m wrong, I’ll give you back your share of the villa rental.” 

“Can I get that in writing, or…?” 

Before any of them can come up with a smart remark, a plate is placed into the center of the table, on which is a large square of baklava, light and flaky with that sweet, sugary filling spilling out the sides of the piece that almost makes your mouth water. You’d seen it in the dessert section of the menu earlier, but had decided against ordering it in favor of trying an appetizer instead. 

“Oh, excuse me? We didn’t order this,” Maren speaks up, looking up at the waiter. 

He does a half turn, sweeping an arm in a vague direction. “It is from the gentleman in the blue shirt.” 

You follow his gaze, and fuck, your heart skips a beat in your chest, because it’s him. It’s the same guy you’ve been drawn to all night, and he’s actually looking right back at you this time. His hand comes up in a wave, then back down to his side almost immediately, like he’s worried about it seeming too eager, before settling with a reserved nod. All the while, he’s still got that smile gracing his face that makes your stomach flip flop. 

“He sent over a dessert?!?! I am so keeping that money, girl,” Camille hums, picking up her fork to dig in while Samira and Maren voice their agreement. 

You, on the other hand, well…you’re not sure what to think. You appreciate the gesture, but you're also confused. Why did he send something over? What did he want? 

It doesn't occur to you that he’s truly taken an interest in you until you're huddled outside with your friends talking next steps of the night. Whether you want to keep exploring this new place, or call it a day and go home. You’re firmly on the latter’s side because you're tired. But you’ll go along with whatever is decided. 

The guy and his friends have coincidentally left the restaurant at the same time as you did, judging by the sudden commotion that erupts behind you. Like a moth drawn to a flame, your gaze lands on him yet again, only this time, you actually lock eyes with him. Something jolts through you, something electric up your spine like a tiny shock. Something you’ve never felt before. You shove the foreign feeling deep down, no matter how much you’d like to explore it. 

He looks away, teeth sunk into his bottom lip to quell the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and you avert your wandering eyes too, before anyone else notices. Evidently you’re a little too slow, because all three of your friends catch on instantly. 

“Go talk to him already.” Camille says matter-of-factly. 

“No, I—what do I even say?” 

“Maybe hello would be a good start?” 

You press your lips together, unimpressed, and you get a snicker in return, something about how you're not asking for his hand in marriage, you’re just trying to make conversation. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him, it’s that you’re not exactly sure how to approach it. You’ve already convinced yourself of the worst, but to possibly have it play out in real life is a tangible fear of yours, and always has been. 

One of your girls (you’re willing to bet more money it’s Maren) gives you a not so gentle shove towards him, as does one of his friends over in his group. Now you’ve got no choice. You meet each other in the middle, just looking at each other for a few moments. It’s awkward and you have half a mind to turn and go, but then he speaks. 

“Hey,” He says. 

“Hi,” You reply shyly, shifting on your feet nervously. He shoves both hands into his pockets. He looks a bit nervous too, which does a significant wonder to calm you. “Thank you for the baklava. It was delicious.” 

“Yeah, of course. Glad you guys liked it. Figured you can’t go wrong with a classic.” He bobs his head, shoulders creeping up towards his ears in a shrug before dropping back down. “I’m Lando, by the way.” 

Lando. It’s not a name you’re expecting, but it suits him well. 

He sticks his hand out almost instinctively, like he’s been conditioned to do so. Maybe he has, considering the aura of professionality it gives off when you do shake his hand. 

His palm is smooth and warm against yours, long fingers curling around your hand like the sincere smile that curls his lips as you tell him your name in return. Dimples bracket his mouth on both sides. 

The handshake almost lasts a little too long for two people who’ve just met literally a few moments ago, as does the way his eyes linger upon yours. 

Even in the dark of the night, illuminated only by the warm glow of the lamps above you, you can see him much better up close. His sunkissed skin does little to hide the flushed pink on his cheeks that travels down to his chest, disappearing under the generously unbuttoned blue linen. You feel exposed under his intense gaze, looking back at those mesmerizing eyes. Blue, green, gray—maybe a mix of all three, you’re not sure, but you can’t help but want to figure it out. 

Then you remember that you don’t know this guy at all, and it brings you back to reality. 

“Lando, like…the guy from Star Wars?” You ask. It breaks the invisible tether between the two of you and he smiles, laughs a little bit too. 

He shrugs casually. “Not according to my mum and dad, but I do get that a lot.” 

“You must get tired of hearing it from people then.”

His head tilts to one side, smile going endearingly lopsided. “Depends on the person. Like, I didn’t mind when you said it just now.” You’re not sure how to respond to that, so you just smile, and he takes your reaction in stride, moving on. “Are you guys from around here, or…” 

“No, actually, we’re—um, we’re just here on holiday.”

“Oh, same! Yeah, we’ve been here a few days now, it’s been great. Is this your first time in Greece?” He asks, smile turning warm. You nod. “Have you checked out the local market yet?”

“Can’t say we have yet, no. We just got in the day before last, so…still figuring out our footing first. But I’ll keep it in mind, thank you!” 

Lando inhales sharply, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Hey, y’know, if you want, maybe we could—” 

“Oi, Lando! Let’s go, mate!” 

He glances back over at his friends, one of whom is waving for him to return to his group rather wildly, before turning back to you. Whatever he was about to say is lost now, because he shrugs loosely. “Guess that’s my cue,” He sighs. Then his gaze softens, smile turning a little hopeful. “Will I see you around again? Small town and all.” 

“Uh…I dunno. Maybe, if it’s meant to be.” You have to try with all your might not to take the statement back, even though you really, really want to. 

If it’s meant to be—who the fuck says that? Like fate has anything to do with this miraculous interest Lando seems to have taken in you. If you were him, you’d find your words quite off putting. Instead, he smirks, crooked and cute. 

“Meant to be,” He repeats, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah alright, I’ll take my chances. Have a good night.” 

You bid him a soft goodnight, barely able to stifle the giggle that spills from your mouth when he nearly trips over the cobblestones on his way back to his friends. He’s awkward, you think, but still confident. It’s cute. 

Lando stays rooted in your mind the rest of the night, all the way up until you’re lying in bed, waiting for sleep to take hold of you. It’s weird to think this much about a guy you’ve just met, a guy who you’ve only had one conversation with and have left things up to chance in terms of seeing him again. 

-------

You’re the first one awake this morning, roused from your sleep by bright sunlight pouring through the window, even through the curtains. Contemplation of going back to sleep crosses your mind, but it’s no use. You’re up now, so you might as well make the most of your early morning. 

You love your friends dearly, but some alone time sounds like heaven right about now. There’s a coffee spot not far from where you’re staying that you remember seeing on your way in that seems like a perfect match to your solo walk, so you head there. You’ll be a nice friend and bring coffee home for when they eventually wake up too. 

After dropping them a text letting them know you’ve gone out, you set off. The walk back into town is short but serene, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of your daily lives, and a reminder of why you’d all decided to vacation in this particular region of Greece in the first place. 

Someone calls out something that sounds like your name before you can step into the shop and you pause, casting a glance around to see if your ears might be playing tricks on you. You’ve only been here a few days, and the only other person who knows you other than your friends is…Lando. 

You squint a little harder to see through the glare of the sun, and lo and behold, there he is, hands linked behind his head. The grin that lifts your face is almost embarrassing, or would’ve been had Lando not been so eager upon seeing you wave at him. 

He’s clad in athletic shorts and a cutoff tee that shows off muscles you’re trying your very hardest not to stare at as he makes his way closer, curls tucked away in a baseball cap pulled low on his head. Headphones dangle from around his neck, and he’s panting, chest rising and falling heavily very clearly once he’s stopped in front of you. 

“Hey, good morning! I thought that was you,” He breathes, attempting to catch his breath. “Early riser too, I take it?” 

“Honestly, not usually! The sun decided I would be today, though, so…here I am.” 

“Here you are. Guess it was meant to be then, huh?” He chuckles, reaching up to flip his cap backwards. If you thought he was tan the night you met, he’s even tanner in the sun, bronze skin stretching over sinewy muscle that flexes as he sweeps a hand through his hair before tugging it back down in one smooth motion. “Doing a coffee run?” 

“Yeah, I’m the only one of us awake at this hour so I figured I’d bring them back a little something.” 

“You’re a saint. I’d let my mates suffer if it were me,” Lando snorts. 

You shrug. “Guess that’s the difference between the two of us.” 

“Yeah?” He hums, looking amused. “What else is different between you and me?” 

“Well, first of all, I would never be on a run at eight in the morning. Is someone punishing you, or is this a self-inflicted torture type thing?” 

That gets another laugh out of him, shoulders shaking with mirth. “Gotta keep in shape or my trainer might try to kill me with workouts instead.” 

“You’re an athlete?” You pry, intrigued. He looks the part, you think. Lean but not skinny, strong but not massively built. A runner, maybe? 

Lando freezes a split second, rocks from foot to foot, scratching at his nose. “Kind of, yeah.” 

“What’s your sport?” 

“Uh…golf. It’s more like a hobby than anything else.” 

“Golf,” You repeat, an amused smile poking at the edges of your mouth. “Can’t say I know a thing about it.” 

“Oh, it’s definitely something else, for sure. Super intense stuff, really grueling.” His words say one thing, but he’s grinning like he’s pulling your leg, lip pulled between his teeth in that same way as last night, nose scrunching adorably as he bobs his head quickly to further sell it. 

“Sure, if you say so. But d’you think your trainer would get mad if you cut your super intense training short to grab a cup of coffee with a friend?” 

You’re almost expecting him to say no, but Lando perks up instead, eyes crinkling happily at the corners. “Not at all. Shall we?” 

Over coffee, you find that Lando is an excellent conversationalist—funny and a good listener, an even better storyteller. He asks about you without seeming pushy or prying, and because of that you feel yourself relaxing a bit in his presence. Opening yourself up to the possibility of a good thing with him, no matter how short or fleeting it may be, whether it’s friendship or something more. 

A few weeks of summer in a place you've never been with a boy you don’t know is the time to be a little bolder. Chances are you’ll never see Lando again after this trip, so why not loosen up just a little bit? 

It’s only when more people start to trickle into the shop and you start to notice Lando’s eyes shifting over your shoulder more that you realize you’ve been here with him for a while now. And judging by the dozens of missed calls and texts from all three of your friends on your phone when you go to check it for the first time since you’d left, you’ve been gone a lot longer than you said you’d be. 

You know them well enough to know that they’re not above calling the local police to send out a search party for you if you don’t find your way back soon. 

“Friends wondering where you are?” 

You nod, sending a quick message that you are indeed alive and not kidnapped like they feared, before tucking your phone away again. “Guess I better get them their coffees for sure now, or else they might not let me back in the house.” 

“Lemme buy it for them,” He offers sincerely, offering you a lopsided grin. You shake your head rapidly at the suggestion, but he continues, “I’m the reason you’ve been gone so long, the least I can do is buy them drinks. Call it an apology for making them worry, yeah?” 

“You really don’t have to, Lando.” 

“I know. I want to,” He insists, looking truly genuine. First dessert last night, now coffee today. You have half a mind to push back a little more, but you get the feeling Lando is as persistent as he is handsome, so you taking a firm stance on something like this seems like a moot point. Giving in, you nod, and he mirrors it, looking proud. 

He lets you take the lead in reciting your friends’ orders once you’ve made your way back over to the front counter, stepping forward with a hand to the small of your back to pay for the drinks before you have any bright ideas to pull one over on him and pay for them yourself. 

The barista smiles politely, pen hovering above a cardboard cup. “And a name for that?” 

Lando casts a furtive glance around the area before leaning in and saying his name quietly, as if he’s worried he’ll run into someone who he doesn’t want to see. You notice, but don’t really pay it any mind. You understand far too well not wanting to talk to someone you're unprepared for. 

Soon enough Lando’s got the drinks in hand and you’re back outside, and he’s smiling again. You’ve noticed he does that a lot when he looks at you. You’re sure you’re the same way with him. 

“My mates and I, we’re planning on having a little barbeque at our villa tomorrow night. You should come,” Lando says encouragingly, tilting his head to the side. When your brows raise in surprise, he hastily adds, “And your friends too, obviously. We’d love the company.” 

“Ah! Um, I dunno. Wouldn’t wanna crash your thing.” 

“You wouldn't be. Seriously, come hang out. We’re fun, I promise!” 

“I just—I forget if we’ve got plans, that’s all.” You’re not lying when you say it, you truly forget if you’re free tomorrow night. Most of it stems from your awful memory, but a small part of it attributes to how your brain kind of stops working properly around Lando. 

“Right, well, you figure that out, and if you find you’ve got a free evening,” He balances the drinks deftly in one hand, the other fishing his phone out of his shorts pocket and swiping at the screen briefly before holding it out to you, “text me, let me know.” 

You’re not sure where you find the boldness to tap your phone number into his contacts, but you do it with confidence, saving it under your name and a smiley face. 

“Cute.” Lando smirks, chuckling as he sends a simple hi so you've got his number too. “Now, I believe these are yours, and…maybe I’ll see you tomorrow? If it’s meant to be.” 

You smile at the mirroring of last night’s words from him as you situate the cardboard tray in your own arms. “Maybe.” 

The smile hasn’t left your face even by the time you arrive back home, because you’ve been thinking about Lando the whole way. For a stranger you’ve met only yesterday, he’s sure been occupying a lot of space in your mind. You aren’t entirely sure how to feel about it. 

You’re already prepared for the berating you’re about to get as you close the front door behind you carefully, making your way to the kitchen.

“Where the hell have you been?” 

You look up to see all three of your friends sitting around the kitchen table, and none of them look particularly happy. You smile innocently, holding up the cardboard tray of drinks up as a peace offering. “Coffee?” 

“It better come with an explanation.” 

Nodding vigorously, you dole out each drink to your friends. “It does, I swear. I didn’t just disappear, I ran into—” 

“Hold the fuck on. Why does this say Lando? Why is that man’s name on my cup—” 

“Oh my god, you did not get coffee with him without telling us!” 

“You bitch!” 

That’s how you end up telling them the whole story—running into him in town, talking for ages, and that brings you to your next point. 

“We don’t have any plans for tomorrow night, do we?” 

“There’s the vineyard tour in the afternoon, but that should end around five. Why?” 

“Lando invited us to a barbecue at his villa,” You say quickly. That gets their attention immediately, all of their eyes widening in the same shocked looks. None of them answer your question though. “Is that…something we’d be interested in?” 

Samira is the first to snap out of it, mouth curving into a playful smirk. “Invited us, or invited you?” 

“Definitely just her.” 

“Whatever! Do we wanna go or not?” You grumble, doing your best to fight the grin threatening to overtake your face. The thought of him wanting to spend time with you brings you a teensy bit of satisfaction. 

“Of course we’re going!” 

After they’re done poking fun at you, you’re able to take a moment to top out a quick message to Lando. That barbecue invite still up for grabs? 

You're not expecting an immediate answer, but your phone dings with a text back before you even set it down. 

Lando: Of course. Plans fell through? 

You: seems like you’ve really made an impression on my friends 

Lando: Not sure whether to be scared or flattered…

You: your guess is as good as mine! we’ll find out tomorrow :)

Lando: Brb gotta go call my lawyer and update my will 

“You’re texting him right now, aren’t you?” 

You look up from your phone to see Camille leaning in the doorway to your room, a soft, knowing smile on her face. “Yeah, he—uh, he says he’s looking forward to meeting you guys again.” She comes to sit beside you, looking like she wants to talk about something. You set it aside, head tilting in a silent question. 

“Do you think you’ll stay in contact with Lando after we leave?” 

“I’m not sure. Haven’t really thought about it all that much, to be honest.”

If you do think about it, you haven’t even known Lando for more than a day. You’ve only just met him yesterday, seen him twice, one of which was completely spur of the moment. So what if that spur of the moment encounter was the most connected you’ve felt to someone in a long time? 

You don’t know him, and chances are, he’s not looking for anything serious. You don’t even know if you’re looking for anything serious. 

“It’s okay if you want to.” 

“I shouldn’t want to,” You say. It feels like you’re trying to convince yourself more than anything. You look to Camille for an answer, but she just pats your hand. “Right? I’m never gonna see him again, so I shouldn’t get attached.” 

“You don’t know that for sure, do you?” 

“I guess not. It feels scary, though. Opening yourself up to something when you don't know what’ll happen.” 

Camille hums, a placating, even comforting sound to soothe your worries. She’s always been pretty good at getting you to see the brighter side in things. “There’s fun in that too. Being spontaneous, surprising yourself. You never know, Lando could be just the thing you need, the one you didn’t know you were looking for. And if not, you don’t have to see him again. A win-win, I’d say.” 

She leaves you alone to your thoughts after that, left to ponder what exactly it is you want. It might be stupid and entirely over-optimistic of you, but Lando has already pulled you in. You’re not sure what it is about him. He makes you want more, want to know more. 

Whatever happens will happen, and if things don’t work out…well, Camille is right. You never have to see Lando again. 

His name flashes across your screen later in the night, right before you’re about to go to sleep. You’ve been texting back and forth all day, but this one is different. He’s video calling you right now. 

You stare at his name for longer than you should, finger hovering over the answer button a few beats before pressing it. His face pops into view once the call connects. Like you, he’s sitting in bed, leaned up against the headboard, cozied up in a soft looking jumper. He looks like he’s moments away from drifting off, but he called you, so he must want to talk. 

“Hi,” You say softly. 

“Hey, you.” He smiles, warm and sleepy and all squinty in a way that makes you want to crawl through the screen and tuck him into bed with a kiss to his forehead. “You must be tired.” 

“Eh, I’m alright. Why?” 

“‘Cause you’ve been running through my mind all day.” 

You let out a wildly unappealing snort of laughter at his poor attempt at a pick up line. “That’s terrible! Oh my god, that was awful, Lando, seriously.” 

“No?” His smile grows giddy, shoulders shaking with his chuckles. “Yeah, it was pretty bad, wasn’t it? Got you laughing though.” 

Conversation falls into the same easy nature as this morning, like you’ve known him for ages. He makes you laugh until your ribs hurt, smile until your cheeks feel the same. It still amazes you just how comfortable you feel around him, as someone who usually takes a while to warm up to people. 

Maybe you should take it as a sign. 

A jumble of muffle voices offscreen some time later makes Lando squint. “Hang on, I’ll be right back. Don’t hang up. ” He lets the phone drop onto the bed, checking once to make sure you’re still there before disappearing from sight. 

You hear his footsteps fade, then more voices you can’t quite make out. Someone laughs off in the distance, and then he’s back, resituating himself with the remnants of an amused grin on his lips. 

“Everything okay?” 

“My mates are yelling at me to turn off the light, so I’d better go,” He sighs goodnaturedly, lips turning down into a frown. Then he yawns widely, and you realize how late it’s gotten since you’ve picked up his call. Losing track of time when you’re talking to Lando seems to be a recurring theme. “I’m glad you’re coming tomorrow.” 

Your breath catches a little in your chest, both at his words and the way he’s looking at you through the screen as he says it, nothing but genuine. “Me too.” 

You’re starting to think this whole try not to get attached thing is going to be much harder than you thought. 

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[pretentious-blonde]

insecurity

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: after you become closer to a certain metalhead, steve can't stop the insecurities that stem from his previous relationship. when it all becomes too much, you are left to deal with his outrage.

warnings: arguments, angst, steve is mean, panic attack (fluff ending ofc)

a/n: idk, this was supposed to be short and sweet but i got carried away!

The bell above you jingled as you entered Family Video, stopping briefly to glance around the shop for a certain brown-haired boy who had managed to capture your heart a little over six months ago. It didn’t take long to spot him, a grin plastered on his face as he stood behind the counter. With crossed arms, leaning his hip against the wooden edge, nodding along half-heartedly to whatever Robin was saying. She sat cross-legged on the desk, arms moving wildly as she spoke, her face lighting up as she noticed your presence. 

“There she is! Finally, I can’t tolerate this man for much longer,” she says with a huff, kicking her feet off the counter and pointing at Steve who was clearly not as into the conversation as she was. His attention hasn’t strayed from you since you came in. “Your turn.”

“Lucky for you,” he begins, briefly glancing in Robin’s direction, pointing back towards her as you rounded the corner to emphasise his point. “She tolerates me for hours.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as you leaned into him, whispering a hello before smirking in Robin’s direction. “I’d say it’s more than tolerating,” you add.

Steve has a smug look on his face at your comment, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. You can feel the warmth he radiates through his jumper, his fingers finding your jaw to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. 

The moment between you both was swiftly interrupted by a loud gagging noise. “Okay. I’m third-wheeling. Gross.” Robin stated as she hopped off her makeshift throne with a huff.

You roll your eyes, still trapped in Steve’s embrace, not ready to let go just yet. “You sure you’re not just jealous Rob?”

“Pssh,” she scoffs as she throws a VHS tape from one hand to the other. “Sure. If I wanted someone who can’t alphabetise for shit, then yes. I’d be all over Harrington.”

“Ouch,” Steve pipes up from your side. “Also I don’t want to hear anything from you after what you did to the returns bin. It’s chaos.”

“Organised chaos, maybe,” she replies as she points the VHS directly at Steve. “My system is far superior.”

You glance over at your boyfriend, a look of disbelief at her previous statement, he was about to interrupt but Robin quickly changed the subject. “I thought you were supposed to come by here yesterday? Or was I making that up?”

“Oh, I was. But Dustin asked me last minute if I was free,” you tell her. “He introduced to to his friend—Eddie? I think he mentioned him before. We all hung out for a bit.”

The words slip out of your mouth naturally and a small smile graces your lips as you remember the day before. What you don’t notice is the way Steve stiffens beside you. His hand, which was fitted perfectly against your shoulder, tensed slightly. Unbeknownst to you. 

“Eddie?” He asks, forcing his voice to stay light and cheerful. He wouldn’t dream of dampening your bright mood. Not when you had gone out of your way to drop by and see him. Although, that fact did nothing to stop the unsettling feeling in his stomach. 

You nod enthusiastically as he pays you his full attention, admiring the way your hair bounces along with your movements. It briefly distracts him from overthinking, that is, until you open your pretty mouth again. “Yeah, you know Dustin—he’s always finding new people to drag into his D&D world. Eddie’s super into it, too.”

His jaw tightens, his smile falters and he hopes to god you don’t notice, masking it with a casual nod. Eddie Munson, he thinks and cannot help the bitterness he feels. Of course, he remembers the metal head from high school, Dustin had been mentioning him more too. He never cared about popularity, the social hierarchy. Just… did his own thing. No matter what others thought of him. 

Steve was all Ralph Lauren polos and Members Only jackets, tender smiles and sickly sweet kisses. Eddie was band patches and ripped jeans, unapologetic and confident. Not like Steve at all. The total opposite in fact.

He glances at you in the corner of his eye, then quickly back to the counter, the knot in his chest growing tighter. He knew, he knew, he was reading too much into it, but he just couldn’t stop himself. Especially after Nancy broke his heart. It was only when he met you that it began to heal again. 

Is that what you’re into? The carefree, rebellious type? While Steve has spent his entire high school career trying to fit the mold, Eddie has smashed it. And what did he have to show for it? A washed-up ex-popular kid working at a video store? Not a lot, clearly.

“So… what did you guys get up to?” He asks, fiddling with the pen on the desk, trying to act as indifferent as possible. 

“Not much. Just hung out, talked about D&D for a bit,” you reply with a shrug. “Dustin thinks he is some kind of genius when it comes to that game.”

Robin chimes into the conversation, unaware of the tension radiating from the brunette next to you. “Well, if you’re into D&D Eddie is the go-to around here,” she tells you. “It sounds like you’re his next recruit.”

Steve’s laugh is forced this time, and you notice it, a small frown appearing on your face. He curses himself internally, quickly leaning over to place a kiss on the side of your head, a reassuring gesture for the both of you. “Sounds fun,” he says softly. “Maybe next time I could tag along.”

Just so he can see what Eddie’s intentions are, see if he is testing his luck with you. He has already lost one girlfriend to another guy so it seemed like a normal thing to investigate. Nothing weird about that… right?

You laugh and shake your head, patting his broad chest playfully. “Trust me, Steve, you don’t have to do that. D&D is certainly not your thing.”

He deflated at your statement, even though it was definitely true. He lets out a chuckle to ease the insecurity he is feeling. “Yeah, I’ll leave the nerd stuff to Dustin and Eddie,” he says, trying to play it off as nothing serious. 

You see the sad look that penetrates his features, mistaking it for him just feeling left out. You grab his hand and give it a small squeeze. “Am I still alright to come over to your tomorrow? Evening sound good?” You ask, hoping he could see how much you still wanted to spend time with him, despite your new friend.

“Of course, angel,” he replies, completely melting at the soft tone of your voice, looking up at him with those gentle eyes of yours. You could probably make him do anything with that expression on your face. He can’t resist stealing another kiss from you when you look like that. You smile up at him as he reluctantly pulls away. 

“Okay, great!” You wave as you make your way to the door, bell ringing as you open it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watches you leave until you are no longer visible, the tightness in his stomach easing ever so slightly at the thought of having you all to himself tomorrow. Just him. His girl. 

As soon as he turns around, Robin is smirking directly at him, arms crossed across her chest. “So, what’s the deal with Eddie?” She asks, her tone teasing. “You gonna join Hellfire now?”

Steve rolls his eyes at her, already dreading the incoming round of quips. “Hell no, I’m not touching that stuff.”

“Aw, c’mon Steve. I think you would make a great dungeon master,” she doesn’t even bother trying to hide the laugh that is bubbling in her throat. “You certainly are dramatic enough for it, you know? ‘King Steve’ and all that.”

“Yeah right,” he mutters, growing more irritated by the second. He usually had all the time in the world for her jabs, but currently? The tapes in his hands were the most interesting thing in the world to him as he tried to brush her off. “I’m retired from the whole ‘king’ thing, remember?”

She grins as she leans across the wooden counter, standing on her tiptoes to get closer to him. “True, true. But at least we know Eddie is pretty chill now, we don’t just have to take Dustin’s word for it.”

There it is, that name again—Eddie. He says nothing as he grabs more tapes off the side. Not that it served any purpose, just anything to keep his hands busy and mind preoccupied. 

“I mean, I have never really spoken to him,” she continued as she paced the shop floor, stopping only to place another VHS in her ‘newly organised’ returns section. “But he’s got that whole ‘rebel without a cause’ thing going on. You know? It’s pretty admirable.”

Yeah, I know, Steve thinks sourly. That’s precisely the problem. He does know. The free spirit who never once cared about fitting in, or pleasing anyone, and now here he was—Dustin’s new best friend and the subsequent new guy in your life. 

“Yeah, well,” Steve forces out another fake laugh, just as badly hidden as the first. “Good for him.”

Robin turns to face him directly, noticing the strain in his voice. “You’re not… jealous, are you?”

Her question catches him off guard, fumbling with the tape in his hand and nearly dropping it. “What? No. Why would I be jealous of Eddie Munson?”

“Alright, alright, no need to get defensive,” she holds her hands up in surrender, her eyes still trained on him. “It’s just… I don’t know. You’re acting weird?”

He didn’t respond right away, focusing on a blank point between two VHS tapes in front of him, he repeated the question in his mind. Weird? He wasn’t being weird. Was he?

Shrugging his shoulders casually, he glances at the clock, suddenly wishing for the small arms to go faster so he could see you again—just the two of you. No Eddie. No distractions. Just you and him alone. Maybe then he could stop himself from spiralling. He couldn’t get the thought out of his mind for the rest of his shift, not when he had seen this story play out once before, with him ending up on the losing side. 

Laughter filled the cramped space of Eddie’s trailer. Dustin had invited you over here a few hours earlier and now here you were, doubled over on his couch, clutching at your sides as Eddie continues his ridiculous story. “And then—then he turned around and slammed right into the closet door! Swear to God, I thought he was gonna be out cold!” He finished, completely in stitches at his own tale. 

Dustin was practically rolling on the floor at this point, teeth on full show as he tried to get his words out cohesively. “How did you find these people, Eddie?!” He gasped between his giggles. 

You were wiping away the tears from your eyes, way past the point of caring if your makeup was smudged. As you came back to reality, you glanced over at the clock, freezing completely as you registered the time. 

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, your stomach dropping. “Guys, I gotta go. Like—like right now.”

You immediately leapt up off the worn-out couch, grabbing your jacket in a hurry and shoving your feet into your shoes. You had about ten minutes to be at Steve’s front door and had completely lost track of the time. “He’s gonna kill me,” you mumbled under your breath as you reached for your bag. Even though it wasn’t true, it was more likely he would be moping around the living room, glancing at the front door every couple of minutes awaiting your arrival. Just sad that he couldn’t get to spend more time with you. Steve didn’t get angry with you. Ever. 

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his form still draped across the couch. “What’s the rush princess? Hot date with Steve?”

You briefly glanced over in his direction, looking increasingly flustered. “Well, yeah,” you admitted. “I was supposed to be there, uh, now.”

Before you could bolt out the door, you heard a groan coming from across the room. “Don’t sweat it, I’ll drive you.” Eddie rose from his seat and grabbed his keys from the coffee table in front of him, twirling them around his finger. “No way I’m letting you bike all the way there.”

You blinked in surprise at his offer. “Really? Are you sure? You honestly don’t have to—“

Eddie waved his hand in your direction, ignoring your concern. “It’s no problem. Besides, I’m not gonna be responsible for you showing up at Steve’s all sweaty and out of breath. The guy would kill me,” He shot a teasing grin in your direction as he headed to the door, holding it open as both you and Dustin ducked under his arm, heading straight for his van. 

The journey was easy, with Eddie being a surprisingly safe driver, music as loud as his personality. In between the heavy guitar riffs that thumped through the radio, he turned to you with a mischievous expression. “So… you and Steve, huh?”

You felt the blush rise to your cheeks at his comment, not getting a chance to respond as he continued. “I just meant you’re good together, you know? I never really saw him as the ‘settle down with a girlfriend’ type. But hey, they say love changes a person.”

You drew your gaze away from the passing trees, unable to hold the smile that had spread across your face. “Yeah, he’s—he’s really great,” you admitted softly. You could barely put into words how great he was without gushing, so that small line would have to do for now. If Eddie only saw how Steve treated you, both in public and private, all his questions would certainly be answered. 

Steve may not have had the same chaotic energy as Eddie or Dustin, but that didn’t matter one bit. Steve was… solid. Reliable. He made you feel safe. Made you feel cherished. 

The long-haired boy next to you shrugged, his tone still kind. “Hey, if Dustin likes him, well that’s saying something. The kid is picky when it comes to his friends.”

Dustin, now making his presence known from the back seat, spoke up. “Damn right!” 

As Eddie pulled up in front of the large house, he leaned over the centre controls, giving you a playful nudge. “Don’t keep him waiting any longer. I bet he is pacing a hole in the floor.”

You playfully glare at him as you pop the door open. “He’s not that bad.”

“Sure,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Well, tell him Dustin and I said hey.”

“Will do,” you replied as you hopped out of the van. You waved at the two of them as they began to drive away, heavy metal music blaring as they faded into the distance. Your smile from Eddie’s previous comment was still lingering on your lips as you bounded up to the front door, excitedly ringing the bell. 

What you didn’t see was Steve had witnessed the entire interaction from his window—your expression as you laughed with Eddie and Dustin, how you looked so at ease and comfortable around them. You hadn’t even known them for that long. The sight twisted something ugly up inside of him, insecurities that were larger than he knew. He didn’t know how to handle them, the thought of being left behind. 

The door swung open after a few moments, and there stood your Steve, leaning casually against the door frame as he looked you up and down. God, he was whipped. “Hey, there you are,” he said with that classic, easy, Steve smile, relief washing over him the second he laid eyes on you. 

You took a step forward, eager to close the distance between the two of you as you wrapped your arms around his waist “Sorry I’m late.”

He chucked as he returned your embrace, sturdy arms enveloping you. “No worries, I’m always happy to wait.” 

The statement was true. Way too true, and that fact started to scare him.

You leaned up to press your lips against his, he was soft, familiar, and for a second, it felt like everything was perfect. He held the door open for you to step inside, the scent of his earthy cologne filled your senses. 

He followed you into the living room, watching you kick off your shoes, holding his arm out just in case you toppled over. He had made that mistake only once in the past, the bruise on your leg was huge. You’re clumsy nature may have been endearing, but he’ll be damned if you hurt yourself on his watch.  

“You didn’t ride your bike?” He asked, subtly trying to figure out exactly why you had gotten out of the familiar van. 

“I was lucky Eddie offered me a lift. I kind of lost track of time,” you said nonchalantly, kicking your shoes into the corner. 

His posture stiffened for the briefest moment at your confirmation. Honestly, he had hoped that what he saw five minutes earlier was just a figment of his imagination. “Oh, cool,” he forced himself to keep his tone light. “That was nice of him.”

You didn’t notice how fake the plastered smile on his face was as you settled onto the couch, already making yourself at home as you reached for the throw blanket. “So, what’s the plan for tonight hm? Movies? Snacks? Oh, did you order pizza?” You rambled, getting more excited with each question. It put his mind at ease a little bit to see you this giddy with excitement. If he let himself believe that he was the cause, maybe he could stop worrying. 

He beamed and moved to join you, resting his head against the pillows as he glanced down at your pure expression. “All of the above, sweetheart. But we are not repeating what you told me a few weeks ago that eating leftover pizza for breakfast was ‘nutritionally balanced’.”

You giggled as you unfurled the blanket, taking extra care to make sure he was fully covered. “It is balanced! Carbs, protein, maybe a vegetable if there’s a stray pepper.”

“Right,” Steve smirked as he drew out the word, trying to get on board with your reasoning. Reaching over for the remote to turn the movie on. 

As the credits for the cheesy rom-com rolled across the screen, you stretched your stiff body out.  You untucked yourself from his side, resulting in a frown from Steve, not quite ready to let you go yet. 

“I still don’t get why we always watch these,” you speak over the ending soundtrack. “All the girl ever does is swoon over the guy, ignoring all the red flags until it’s too late.”

He rests his arm on the back of the couch, placing his chin on top of it to give you his full attention. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy ending.”

You roll your eyes and nudge his foot with your own. “Such a romantic.”

Steve blushes before turning away, giving you a casual shrug. “I just like them. Who knows, I could always start serenading you under your window, the whole nine yards.”

“Serenade, huh?” You chuckle, angling your head to lean against his arm. “Do you even know how to play an instrument?”

He drew his face towards you, scrunching his nose in your direction. “I can learn. Get some guitar lessons.”

Maybe you like guitar. Eddie plays the guitar. 

You giggle at the mental image of Steve strumming clumsily, tongue poking out in concentration, getting frustrated with the sheet music that would be scattered around him. “Oh, I’d pay to see that.”

He runs his hand through your hair, admiring your soft features illuminated by only the TV screen. “You wouldn’t have to pay. If you wanted it, I’d do it for free.”

He meant every word. If it kept you in his life, he would practise until his fingers bled. 

“Has anyone told you how much of a sap you are?” You ask, but it lacks its usual teasing. 

“Yeah, but I’m your sap,” he replies, words overflowing with tenderness. 

You look at him closely. Really look at him. His loving smile falters slightly under your gaze, eyes flickering downwards to hide his expression more. 

Shifting towards him, you lay a hand across his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart quicken at your touch. “What’s wrong?”

Steve blinks, another smile forced, not quite reaching his eyes. God, why did you have to ask it like that? In a sweet tone, filled with concern. He thought he was good at lying. All those secret parties he held in his parent’s absence, brushing off their questions about various missing decorations that most likely had been broken. Nobody noticed when his heart was broken a few years back. When he could hardly drag himself to work. But somehow, you could pick him apart easily. 

“Nothing,” he lies, trying to brush you off. “Just…thinking.”

“About what?”

He sighs, his fingers tracing an aimless pattern on your shoulder as he avoids looking at you. “Just…us, I guess. Wondering if I’m actually good at this whole ‘boyfriend’ thing or if you’re just humouring me.”

The confession made him feel exposed. He regretted saying anything at all. 

You frown at his admission, “What? Why would you think that?” You can’t hide the shock from your voice. This is the same boy who kept your favourite tea stocked in his cupboard, the same boy who built your entire bookcase when you mentioned you were struggling with the instructions, the same boy who even phoned the doctor’s office for you when you were too scared to talk to the receptionist.  

He ticked every box and more, your heart broke for how he felt. 

“I don’t know…Sometimes I wonder if I’m gonna screw this up. Like, if I’m just temporary.” His eyes are still glued to his lap, unable to look away. If only he didn’t have this much baggage. 

You furrow your brows, reaching up to cup his cheek, tilting his head so he’s forced to meet your eyes. “Steve, you’re not temporary. Okay? You’re not some placeholder to me.”

He leans into your touch, his hand covering yours for a moment. But even though he smiles softly at your words, the doubt still lingers in his eyes.

“I guess we’ll see,” he murmurs, the vulnerability heavy in his voice.

You sigh, realising this is a result of something more going on, but you still give him a gentle look. You have no problem reassuring him. You could tell him one hundred times how cherished he is without complaint. As many times as it took to make the message stick. If that’s what it took, you would gladly do it. 

Steve was buzzing as soon as he got off the phone with Kieth. His presence at the video store was not required today, and he had been planning how to surprise you all morning. Acting as giddy as a high schooler. He hadn’t had the chance to see you since you last hung out at his place and he really wanted to do something sweet. Not out of the lingering insecurity he was feeling, but he wanted to see you happy. Especially when it was because of him. 

He tried to go the extra mile today, waking up early and driving to the nice florist on the other side of town, just to make sure he got the freshest flowers. A little effort from him means a big smile from you—totally worth it in his book. The bouquet was huge, it sat in your usual place, in the passenger seat. He specifically chose your favourite colour as the wrapping paper, and the bow that secured it too. Smiling to himself as he pictured your reaction. 

Climbing the steps to your little apartment, something you were so excited to finally be able to afford with your job, his heart beat with anticipation. He easily fished out the spare key you had given him, smiling as the tiny keychain dangled from it—a tiny VHS tape you had been so proud to find at the flea market, insisting on putting it on yourself because it ‘needed some flair’. It was a thoughtful gesture, it made him feel warm whenever he saw it. 

Holding his breath to not make any noise, he unlocked your door and gently pushed it open, careful not to startle you. His eyes immediately landed on the couch—and his whole world froze. 

There, sprawled out on the couch, was none other than Eddie Munson. Looking the same as he always did, completely relaxed In his worn Metalica t-shirt and scuffed trainers. 

The worst part wasn’t just him. It was you. Your head resting in his lap, and Eddie was absently playing with a strand of your hair. He glanced up at Steve’s entrance and immediately put a finger to his lips, signalling Steve to stay quiet. His blood boiled at the gesture. 

“Shh,” Eddie whispered, gesturing to you. “She’s asleep.”

He was glued to the spot. What the fuck is he doing here?

Eddie carefully lifted your head off his legs, swapping himself out for a pillow, taking extra care not to rouse you. 

“Hey, man,” he greeted casually as he stood, stretching out his arms like this wasn’t the single most infuriating sight Steve had ever seen. “We were just hanging out, watching some trash TV. She was out like a light.”

His voice was still a whisper as he explained what happened, trying to add some humour to the situation. “Probably for the best, I mean. I can watch crappy shit all day, but even this was painful to sit through. No big deal.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. Hard. His grip on the flowers tightened until he could feel a few give way under the pressure. No big deal? You’ve got to be kidding me. He felt a surge of possessiveness course through him, igniting an anger he believed was dormant. His mind began to race, everything he had been trying to ignore had bubbled straight back up to the surface like a ticking time bomb. She is that comfortable to fall asleep on him?!

Eddie, completely oblivious to Steve’s thinly veiled fury, patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry, but I gotta be heading myself. Wayne’ll be wondering where I’ve been.” He said, giving him a small smile as if this was a totally normal situation for the two of you. “Take care, man.” With that, Eddie slipped past him, closing the door silently as he exited. 

The apartment felt eerily quiet as Steve just stood there, staring at the door, trying to wrap his head around what the hell just happened. Unbelievable. He rediverted his attention back to you, still soundly asleep on the couch, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside of him. He crossed the room slowly, as if on autopilot, mind a nasty mix of anger and jealousy. You fell asleep on Eddie. Eddie, of all people. How long were you two just... sitting there like that?

He took a seat in the armchair opposite, memories of the two of you trying to squeeze onto it now bitterly replaying in his mind. The flowers were still clutched in his hand, forgotten in his flood of emotions.

He didn’t want to acknowledge what he had just walked in on. His heart beat painfully in his chest. This is how it starts, right? He thought bitterly. Starts all innocent like this. I’ve seen this before. I’ve lived this before. His mind flashed back to that goddamn Halloween party, to the nights he thought things were fine, only to realise too late that he had been left behind—again.

Steve exhaled sharply, frustration gnawing at him. It’s happening. It’s fucking happening again. He was always second best. His parents, Nancy, Dustin, you. 

He glanced down at the flowers in his hand, the stems crushed from his tense grip. They were supposed to be part of a sweet surprise, a way to make you smile, but now... now they just felt like a cruel joke. With him being the punchline. As per usual.

He set them down on the coffee table and leaned backwards, his gaze locked on your peaceful sleeping form, his mind a mess. His foot tapped impatiently against the floor. He was fuming—so mad he could barely think straight.

The room was in complete silence as you began to stir awake, reaching your arms above your head lazily. You blinked a few times as you returned to reality, the soft haze of sleep still lingering. You heard your back pop and you groaned at the sensation, falling asleep on the couch had been a terrible idea. 

You let out a brief yawn and look around for Eddie, but instead, your eyes land on your boyfriend. He sat across from you, arms crossed tensely, his expression neutral. He wasn’t smiling, which was odd for him. In fact, he looked angry. 

“When did you get here?” Your forehead crinkled in confusion, voice still raspy with sleep as you asked. “Where did Eddie go?”

Steve shifted in the chair, leaning back and spreading his legs further apart. “Eddie left a while ago,” he snapped, his tone was sharp and clipped. “I got the day off work.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” your brain still trying to piece the information together. “You should have called.”

He scoffed as he shook his head, a lock of brown hair escaping to rest against his forehead. “Yeah, well. I wasn’t aware you had other plans.”

You sat up straighter on the couch, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach. His tone—he never spoke to you like that. It sounded frustrated, irritated. Like you had done something wrong. You wracked your brain trying to think of anything that would have upset him, eventually coming up short. Eddie’s presence here didn’t even pass through your mind, there is no way Steve would be that possessive. Could he?

“Steve…what’s wrong?” You asked cautiously, concern creeping into your voice. “Why are you mad?”

His brown eyes darkened, his face twisting with an expression you had never seen before. All the insecurity he had been feeling, all the unresolved emotions, came crashing to the surface in a wave of anger. It was frightening. He was frightening you. 

“You wanna know what’s wrong?” He barked out a laugh, one that was filled with no humour. “I come over here, thinking I’m gonna surprise my girlfriend. But instead? I find her asleep on the town freak.”

Your heart sank. He spat the words out as if they tasted vile on his tongue. You never knew that he could be this vicious, the foul name that just spewed from his lips made your throat tighten. “Steve, that’s not—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, his voice bitter as he continued. “You think I’m stupid? Like I don’t see what’s going on here? You and Eddie. He’s always around, and suddenly, you’re all buddy-buddy with him, falling asleep on his lap like it’s no big deal. I mean—Jesus, sweetheart—how dense do you think I am?”

“Steve, it wasn’t like that,” your voice broke as you struggled to speak. The nickname that had always been filled with such love was now venomous, you struggled to understand what was happening. Why he wasn’t listening? Why wasn’t he trusting you?

“We were just hanging out, watching TV—“

“Oh yeah? Just watching TV? Sure,” Steve spat, getting up to start pacing, the adrenaline coursing through his body was too much. His mind was racing, old memories resurfacing, ones that he would rather not think about only helped fuel his rage. He turned back to you, eyes wild with fury.

“Moved on pretty quick, huh?” He ran a hand over his face, voice dripping with resentment. “I mean, I gotta hand it to you, honey. But you could have tried a little harder before the secret spilt out eventually.”

Tears formed in your waterline as you tried your best not to let them fall. “How could you say that?” You took in a shaky breath. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Oh, don’t do that,” he pointed a finger at you. “Don’t act all innocent here. I’ve seen this shit before, okay? Little things that aren’t that little. Don’t play dumb, it’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not!” You protested, not caring about the tears that now flowed freely down your cheeks. “I love you, Steve. Please. Eddie is just a friend.”

He rolled his eyes, your pleading falling on deaf ears. “Yeah, ‘just a friend’,” he muttered hostilely. “Sure.”

His words cut deep, and you felt yourself crumble under the weight of them. You began to panic as you realised there was no way out of this. Not when he was so dead set on believing what he wanted. You could only stare back at him in disbelief, heart breaking at how trivial this argument is. 

“I thought you left this high school crap behind you,” you whispered, scared and unsure of how he would react. 

“Yeah, well, some things never change.” He shot back, his tongue still as fast as it had been back then. He mentioned how he was in school a few times in the past, but now you could really see it. The petty boy who would say anything in the heat of the moment. The boy who could pick the thing that would hurt the most. 

The room fell into a heavy silence, staring at one another, the distance between you growing more and more with each passing second. You could barely recognise the man standing only a few feet away. You wanted to reach out to him, plead with him to just stop. Go back to being Steve. Your Steve. 

“I can’t believe what you’re saying,” you managed to choke out, wiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your jumper. “You’re hurting me.”

Steve hesitated for a moment, a brief flash of guilt flickered across his face at the sight of your tears. His beautiful girl was torn apart by what he was insinuating. But he was too far gone. His misplaced anger was the only thing he could feel right now, pushing him further. “Yeah well, now you know how that feels.”

A sob wracked through your body, his statement feeling like a dagger to your chest. He made his way towards the door to leave, his gaze landed on the stack of VHS tapes by the TV. He knew he should walk away, but a petty bitterness surged through him. He could never resist getting one final jab in. 

“Make sure you return those by the weekend. Late fees now apply, sweetheart.” He sneered, lips turning into a snarl. 

With that, he tossed the flowers he’d brought for you onto the table, the delicate petals now scattered across it. You stared at them, your vision blurred by your tears as Steve stormed out of your apartment. He slammed the door sharply as he left, making you flinch. 

As soon as he was gone, you collapsed onto the couch, finally allowing yourself to cry uncontrollably. You didn’t understand how everything had spiralled so fast. How the man who was so sweet, so kind, had turned into this.

On the other side of the door, Steve’s heart was racing, pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. He leaned against the wall for a moment and shut his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control as the rage he felt dissipated. 

He wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty, not over this. He didn’t jump to conclusions, not when the signs were so clear to him. 

He stumbled down the stairs and got into his car, foot pressing down hard on the accelerator as he drove away. Each mile felt heavier than the last. He couldn’t allow himself to question what he had said, besides, it was too late to take it all back now. What he couldn’t answer was why he felt so much more empty as he pulled up to his house. Alone. 

Steve pushed open the door to Family Video, the small bell above him chiming as he trudged inside. It felt like it was mocking him, only adding to his sour mood. He was fifteen minutes late, something that never went unnoticed by Robin.

His eyes looked and felt drained, dark circles framing his eyes from his obvious lack of sleep. The night before had been hell. All he had done was toss and turn, replaying the argument with you over and over again in his head until he was sick of it. His chest ached from all the emotions that were still swirling inside of him. Anger, sadness, and a terrifying amount of regret that he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

Robin was at the counter, tapping away at the computer when she saw him walk in. Her face lit up, clearly excited to spill something. “There you are! You won’t believe what I’m about to tell you. I saw Vicky at the movies yesterday and—“

“Rob, I’m really not in the mood today.” He interrupted her, rubbing a hand over his brows. 

The girl froze, her face contorting with confusion. Usually, Steve lived for gossip like this. In fact, he almost always begged for it.

“Wait…what? You were off yesterday. Shouldn’t you be, like, all refreshed or something? What, did you party too hard without me?”

He shot her a glare, making it crystal clear that something was wrong. Of course, being ever curious, Robin was not going to let this slide. 

“Oh, no. Spill it, Harrington.” She began, leaving the computer to follow his quick steps. “You come in late, looking like shit, and now you’re all moody? Did something happen yesterday?”

Steve sighed, running a hand through his messy hair he hadn’t even bothered to brush. Not willing to humour her at all today. “Robin, please—”

“Please what? I’m not gonna stop asking. C’mon, let it out. I’m all ears. I’ll even sit down for this one.” She says dramatically as she hops up onto the counter, crossing her legs, glancing at him expectantly as if she had all the time in the world. 

Steve groaned loudly. “Fine, fine. You want to know what happened?” He said, exasperated.  “I walked in yesterday, excited to surprise my girl, and guess what I saw? Eddie. Like, she had her head in his lap and everything. They were all over each other. It was disgusting.”

Robin scrunched her eyebrows as she processed his words. “Eddie? The Eddie Munson?” She squinted, looking even more confused. “Are we talking about the same Eddie here? The one who’s completely obsessed with Chrissy Cunningham? I mean, he’s had it bad for her for years. That Eddie?”

“What? Chrissy?” Steve frowned, pausing as her words sank in. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Robin tilted her head at him like he was an idiot. Which she would say was most of the time. “Uh, yeah? He’s been pining after her for, like, ever. He never had the guts to ask her out. Everyone knows that.”

She carried on talking as if this was common knowledge, which maybe it was. The knowledge was just not that common to Steve, apparently. “So Eddie’s into your girl now? Are you sure about that?”

He felt his stomach drop, trying to ignore the rising panic in his chest. “I mean… yeah. Pretty sure? He was, like, touching her and they were—“ He stopped halfway through his sentence, doubt now taking over. 

Was that really all he saw? Surely not. He couldn’t have gotten so mad about just that, there had to be more. Only, nothing really came to mind. 

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Touching her, huh? And that exactly happened? No skipping details.”

Steve scratched the back of his head as he tried to recall the events from the evening prior, his anxiety continued to grow as he spoke. “I saw him drop her off at my place the other day. She got out of his van, and they looked all… close. Then, when I went to her apartment earlier, I walk in, and there she is, asleep across his lap.”

Robin took a second to process what he was saying, speaking slowly as she tried to wrap her head around the situation. “So… you’re mad because she fell asleep with him on the couch? While watching TV? That’s what you’re telling me?”

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat, immediately getting defensive, trying to prove that he wasn’t just overreacting. “Well, yeah, but it’s the way she was with him. It was just too… cosy.”

She could not believe what she was hearing as she stared at the boy blankly. “Dude, we do that stuff all the time. Like, every movie night.”

Steve's stomach twisted. He felt sick. “Yeah, but…that’s different. This is—” He couldn’t continue. There was no solid ground for him to stand on. The knowledge of that was overwhelming. Fuck. 

Robin narrowed her eyes, still determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. “Okay, I still don’t get it. What did you do?”

He shifted uncomfortably at her questions, his guilt was building inside of him as the true terror set in. “I, uh… I may have been a complete asshole.”

Her eyes widened at the admission. “Define ‘complete asshole.’”

Steve’s hands shook as he brought them up to his forehead, slightly damp from his growing fear. “I called Eddie the ‘town freak’—fuck—and I—“ He paused and took a breath in, the consequences of his insecurities now coming into the light. “I told her we were over basically…she asked me to stop hurting her.”

Robin’s jaw dropped, feeling outraged at the way her best friend had acted. That was not something she could ever stand beside, no matter how close they were. “You what? Steve, that's fucking insane! I can’t believe you drove her to the point of even having to say that!”

The world seemed distorted as Steve became short of breath, he had to rest a hand on the counter to keep himself steady, the tight grip becoming painful. “I don’t know! I just—it all came out. I couldn’t stop myself—shit. What—what do I do?”

Robin started at him, completely stunned and equally irked. “Steve,” she said, the stern tone felt foreign on her tongue. “This is not just ‘I messed up a little’—you blew it, dude.”

He was breathing faster now, mouth barren, limbs turning slightly numb. The panic had now set in fully. “No, no, no. Don’t say that. I can fix it, right? I always fix it. I have to fix it, Robin. Please, help me fix it!” His voice increased as he got the words out, hands trembling in front of him. 

She looked at him, she was no less annoyed, but she couldn’t help but pity her friend. Especially when he looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown like this. He was a wreck right now and needed someone. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll help you,” Steve sighed in relief, however, she wasn’t finished. “But I’m seriously not happy about any of this. If she doesn’t take you back, you have to deal with it, Steve. This is on you.”

Steve nodded frantically, hair flying everywhere as he clung to the small sliver of hope. “Anything. I’ll do anything. I can’t lose her, Robin. I just… I can’t”

She folded her arms, her face remaining stoic to show her displeasure with him. “Alright. We will think of something, and you better pray to God she hears you out. You have got a lot of sucking up to do Harrington.”

He muttered quiet a thank you, his heart not slowing down. He couldn’t afford to lose you, not over this, not because of his own self-doubt. Please, he thought to himself. Please for the love of God don’t let her leave me.

For ten long minutes, Steve had been standing outside your apartment, heart hammering in his chest as he stared at the shut door. Ten agonising minutes of him just waiting, stalling, trying to muster up the courage to raise his hand and just knock. He could have used the spare key that was burning a hole in his back pocket, but that wouldn’t be right. Not after what he did. He had to do this the right way if he had any chance of forgiveness. This wasn’t a situation that could be fixed with flowers or chocolates. He had spoken to Robin for the whole of yesterday, and they both agreed—he needed to own up to everything that transpired, to apologise, even if it was hard. Even if it was terrifying. 

Because losing you? That wasn’t an option. 

With a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles against the solid wood. The second he made contact with the door, his stomach flipped. He wanted to run. To turn around and bolt. But he couldn’t. Not this time. He had too much to lose—you. The sweet, kind girl who had always made him feel seen, made him feel held. How could he walk away from that without trying? 

It wasn’t long before the door creaked open, the sight of you nearly knocked all the air out of his lungs. You’d been crying, that much was obvious. Your eyes were red, puffy, and filled with the hurt that he had caused. If that wasn’t enough to crush him, you were clad in one of his old hoodies—one he’d left at your place months ago. Seeing you wrapped up in something of his twisted the knife so deep that he nearly staggered back before he caught himself. 

You immediately moved to shut the door, not willing to let him hurt you more, but Steve panicked. “Please, please, angel don’t,” his voice cracked as he begged to be let in, his hand pushing lightly against the door, so desperate to keep it open. Desperate to not be shut out before he could even try to say sorry. “I need to talk to you. Please.”

You paused, removing your hand and gently taking a step away from the entrance. You crossed your arms as you looked at him, still visibly upset, your voice sharp but exhausted. The tone pulled at his chest. “You’ve got five minutes Steve. Then I want you out of here.”

He nodded eagerly, grateful for a chance, no matter how slim. “Of course, anything…I’ll take anything. Just…please.”

You let him in, both stepping further into the flat, his eyes immediately locked onto the sight of the coffee table. The flowers he picked up yesterday were still sitting there—petals scattered everywhere, beginning to dry up and wilt. 

You couldn’t bear to touch them after he tossed them there the day before, you had hardly left your bedroom due to their presence. A brutal reminder of what happened. He felt sick to his stomach with the knowledge of how badly he hurt you. How you couldn’t even deal with the ruined gift because they were tied to him. To the things he said. 

You fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie, now feeling embarrassed while wearing it, nervous as to what he could possibly say to make this right. If he even wanted to make it right. You honestly didn’t know. 

He turned to you, words catching in his throat as he tried to figure out where to even start with this. He had gone over this with Robin multiple times yesterday, but the sight of you completely threw him. 

“I—I’m sorry, angel,” he stammered, that was a good place to start, his voice as rough as he continued. “I’m so, so sorry. For everything. For not thinking. For not believing you. For… for making you cry. I didn’t mean to—I swear, I didn’t.”

You stood firm, arms not moving from their crossed position. You weren’t giving in easily, not this time. You had every single right to be upset. Steve has frightened you. He was mean and spiteful, lashing out at you instead of listening. His jealousy was ugly. 

He fumbled for more words, his hands beginning to shake. “I…I was an asshole, I hate that I hurt you. I just…I freaked out, okay? I thought—“ He stopped, swallowing thickly as his emotions threatened to choke him fully. “I thought I was going to lose you. Like…like I lost Nancy.”

Your expression shifted slightly, but you remained silent, allowing him to continue. 

His voice grew quieter, more pained. “Halloween, a few years back, Nancy told me I was just…bullshit. Jonathan swept in after that. And when I saw you with Eddie—fuck—I just—” He ran a hand through his brown hair, pulling harder at the ends as his frustration grew. “Eddie’s already got Dustin. He’s…he’s got everything. And I thought he’d take you too. And I just…I panicked. I know it’s stupid, okay? I was just—“

He was rambling now and he knew it, the words were tumbling out faster than he could stop them. He only had five minutes, he needed you to understand. To please understand him. 

“I was so fucking scared, honey. I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and realise that I’m bullshit. That you’ll find someone better. Someone who isn’t…who isn’t me.” His voice cracked again at his attempt to hold back the tears that clouded his vision. 

You let out a small sigh, your expression wary. You couldn’t let your guard down, not yet at least. 

“Steve…what happened yesterday was not okay. You hurt me. A lot.”

“I know,” he said in a hushed tone, his voice barely louder than a breath. “I know I did, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. I swear, I’ll be better. I’ll be so much better—if you’ll let me. You deserve everything, sweetheart. A-and I’ll give it to you, I promise. Just…please. Please let me prove that.”

Steve’s voice broke as the overwhelming dread overflowed, what had once been a gentle simmering below the surface now coursed through his entire body. No, he thought, It’s not working. It’s not fucking working.

His hands were quivering uncontrollably, his vision blurred as his thoughts spiralled. Everything was crashing down around him—the fear, the memories, the guilt. 

He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t lose you. Not you. 

“I—I can’t,” Steve stammered, his words short as they came out in small gasps. He backed up slightly, he didn’t know if he was scared of your presence or himself at this point. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I’m so—so fucking scared, I—“ 

His hands flew to his face in a weak attempt to hold himself together, his breath coming out in frantic bursts. His whole body shook involuntarily. Nancy, his parents, the same gut-wrenching feeling of being told he wasn’t enough. Wasn’t loved. That he was unimportant. Just temporary. 

You were stuck, rooted to where you stood, watching him unravel. And in that moment, you didn’t know what to do. The Steve you knew so well—the confident, charming, self-assured Steve—was crumbling before your eyes, his fear felt so raw, so overwhelming that it broke your heart to witness it. 

“Steve,” you say softly, moving towards him, but he couldn’t hear you. Not over his own mind. He was too far gone. 

“I can’t—fuck, I—“ His broad chest heaved as he tried to suck in air, but it seemed to do little to help. His hands shook violently, gripping at his tousled hair as he slid down to the floor, his back against the wall. “I’m gonna lose you, angel. I know it, and I can’t—I can’t do that again.”

“Steve,” you repeat, voice more forceful this time as you drop to your knees beside him. You reached out to him slowly, so as to not startle him, taking his unsteady hands in your own. “Breathe. Just…breathe with me, okay?”

He was trembling so much that it scared you, even more than he had yesterday. His breaths were coming out shallow and erratic, your heart ached to see him like this—so broken, so scared. 

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You kept your voice soft, soothing as you held onto him, your thumbs tracing small circles on his skin. You began to understand. “You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

The skin around his eyes was pulled taught as he squeezed them shut, he tried to follow your lead, match your breathing with his own, using it as a guide. “Just breathe, okay?” You repeated, you held your voice steady until his ragged breaths began to slow, becoming deeper and more even. 

It took a few minutes to get his trembling to ease, fingers still tracing gentle patterns, reminding him of your presence. His grip eventually loosened, but never wavered, he clung onto you like a lifeline. His head hung low as he tried to pull himself back together. 

You watched his chest as you knelt beside him, it rose and fell more calmly compared to a few moments ago. His large brown eyes flickered open as they focused on you. Red and glassy, filled with fear as he looked at you. Really looked at you. 

“I’m so so sorry,” he spoke in a muted tone, barely audible as he turned his attention to your intertwined hands. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just… I didn’t know what to do. I—I needed to hurt you before you hurt me.”

Your stomach was in knots at the sight of him so vulnerable. Posture hunched over as if he wanted to disappear into himself. It broke your heart to witness. You squeezed his hands gently as you leaned closer to him. 

“Steve, listen to me,” you tell him. His eyes lifted to meet yours, amber and swirling with uncertainty. “I’m not going anywhere. But you have to talk to me, okay? If something is bothering you. If you’re feeling scared, you have to tell me. You can’t just take it out on me. It’s not fair.”

He shook his head and sniffed, rubbing his hand roughly against his eyes, trying to brush away the tears. “I don’t want to push you away,” he muttered, voice no longer as shakey. He felt his mind settle as the words flowed out of his mouth more comfortably. 

“I just… I don’t know how to do this,” he gestured between the two of you. “I’ve never been good at… at the talking stuff.”

For the first time today, you allowed a smile to play on your lips as you brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “I kinda got that,” you tell him. “You don’t have to be perfect. I just need you to be able to come to me, talk to me. Get out of your head. I’m always here.”

You tapped his forehead twice for emphasis as he exhaled slowly. The tension in his body had finally been released as he slumped against the wall. He brought both of your hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, swallowing hard as he returned them to his lap. “Don’t deserve you, angel.”

Leaning forward and pressing your forehead against his own, closing your eyes as you speak. “You deserve someone who cares,” you tell him as you pull back, eyes shining with pure honesty which soothes his shot nerves. “And I do. So, just…trust me. Even if it's hard sometimes.”

“I do,” he said quickly. “I do. I’m sorry I didn’t, sweetheart. I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, looking at him with the tenderness he never thought he would see again. “You don’t have to apologise anymore.”

He nodded once more, your forgiveness was finally sinking into him, pushing the last bit of panic out of his system. He opened his arms, asking you silently if it was alright to hold you once more. 

You shifted yourself between his legs, allowing his arms to pull you into a tight embrace, bringing you close as if you might disappear again. Slip through his fingers if he let you go. 

You rested your head against his chest, tucked up tightly as his chin rested on your hair. You could feel his heart beat at a more steady pace. You placed your palm over it. It belonged to you after all. 

“I love you, you know that?” He asked as he held you against him, anchoring himself to you. 

“I know,” you respond, words slightly muffled by his jumper. “I love you too.”

You pull away slightly, meeting his eyes once more. The heaviness from the previous conversation had lifted, feeling relief flow through you as the warmth returned to Steve’s face. He wasn’t completely at ease, still very much shaken, but he could see a light at the end of the tunnel. The worst was behind him. And he promised it would only be up from here. 

“So tell me,” you began. You knew you needed to steer the conversation in a more light-hearted direction, not just for yourself, but for the boy whose lap you were in. “Was Robin mad?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Steve groaned as his head hit the wall behind him. At least he could walk into work with a smile on his face tomorrow. Tell her that he made it right…but maybe leave out the whole hysterical crying part. “She was ready to rip my head off after I told her what happened.”

“Oh, really?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled. “Good to know she has my back.”

“Guess I’m outnumbered,” Steve allowed himself to laugh, and God did it feel good to do it with you.

“Well, that’s what happens when you don’t listen.”

“Okay, okay. Fair enough,” he winced, but managed to maintain a grin. “I think I’ll survive her wrath…maybe.”

“Maybe,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Gonna have to put in some work there then.”

“I am prepared to do whatever it takes,” he tells you with mock seriousness. “Even offer to be her wingman with Vickie.”

“Wow, generous,” you snorted. It would probably benefit him more, if you were being honest. He had been nagging her to make a move for months, her constant pining and inaction was starting to get to him. He had been giving her the same advice over and over. It was getting ridiculous. His words, not yours. 

“And, hey, maybe I’ll give Munson a chance too,” he tells you, glancing down with a playful expression. “Join Hellfire, see what all the fuss is about.”

The laugh that escaped you was loud, you shook your head at him. “Steve, you would be terrible and D&D.”

“Hey, I’m good at strategy!” He protested, not allowing himself to be insulted in this manner. “I’d make a great…uh, whatever they call the fighter guy.”

“You mean a barbarian?” You say teasingly. “I could see you as more of a chotic bard. Always trying to talk yourself out of trouble.”

“Yeah? You never know, I could surprise you,” he says, leaning down to press his lips against your hairline. “For now though, I think I’ll focus on not screwing things up again.”

Your heart fluttered as you melted into him, securing your arms around his wide shoulders. “You’re on the right track, Harrington”

“Good,” he smiled at the nickname, placing his hand on your arm, the other on your back. “I don’t plan on going anywhere. And neither are you if I can help it.”

“Deal,” you say with a firm nod of your head. “No more freakouts, okay?”

He looked over your face once more, relieved that there were no more visible traces of the pain he had caused. Just his sweet girl smiling at him. Just the way he liked it. 

"I'll try my best," Steve whispered, holding you close. "I promise."

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: Connie x black reader

warnings: smut 18+, mentions of drugs

Birthday girl

“Wassup mami.” Connie greeted, eyes trailing over your body, your curves on full display in your outfit. “You look good.” He licked his lips, eyes looking you up and down once more before enveloping you in a hug.

“Thank you, Connie.” You cheesed. His usual scent of weed, lavender, and sage fueling your senses.

“I didn't know you were gonna be here.” He leaned in close to speak over the loud music playing throughout the house.

“What do you mean? This is my celebration.” You giggled.

“Whatchu mean ‘your celebration’? Did I miss something?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“It is my birthday Con.”

“Oh shit. Happy Birthday, mami” He hugged you again. “Why you ain't tell me? I woulda got you something.” He scolded.

“I figured you knew already because of Sasha. Plus you don’t need to get me anything. Especially since you never let me pay for my shit.” You rolled your eyes, though you were extremely grateful.

“Whatever. Ima get you something regardless.'' He kissed his teeth. “Is this your house?” He motioned to the large modern house, its lights dim and filled with your closest friends, loud music, liquor, and weed.

“It's my family's vacay home. Wanna tour?”

“Yeah, for sho.” Next thing he knew your hands were entwined as you showed him around the house. As the tour continued upstairs, Connie could feel the blood rushing to his dick. The sight of your ass peeking from your skirt as you walked up the stairs had him ready to get on his knees, and truth be told he didn't know whether it was to bury his face in between your thighs or ask to marry you.

“And then this is my room.” Your words brought him out of his trance.

“It's very you.” He walked around the room analyzing everything, from the pictures on your wall to the strawberry vanilla candle that was recently burned.

“In a good way?”

“Of course mami, everything about you is good.” He stood behind you as you took pictures in front of your large full-length mirror, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he posed with you.

“These are cute, Con” You gushed, as you swiped through the pictures.

“We look good together.” He mumbled.

“We do.” Your eyes locked. The energy shift was so quick you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. “Connie?…”

Connie had wanted you craved you since that night you asked him if he sold pre-rolls. He didn't, but you were just too pretty to say no to. Since then, he longed for something more than what you already had.

He had planned on asking you to be his numerous times. From the first time you sat in his passenger seat where you gushed about how much you loved his car to just two weeks ago on your usual late-night drives when neither of you could tell if the sexual tension was due to the sativa or the breaking point of all the intense eye contact and not so subtle touches you shared the past month. Neither of you acted on it but it no longer mattered anymore, he had the opportunity right now and he was going to take it.

“Lemme make you feel good.” He broke the silence. Large hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer.

“What?” You instinctively leaned into him, thoughts going fuzzy.

“I know you heard me.” He muttered into your neck, light pink lips littering kisses onto your neck.

“C-Con, what are you doing?” You bit back a moan as he sucked harshly on the spot that had your knees weak and panties soaked.

“Be truthful, ma. You thought about this before or nah?” He pulled away from his assault on your neck, admiring the faint mark forming on your brown skin before looking into your eyes.

“What about-”

“Just a yes or no mami.”

“...Yes”

“Do you want to do this?” His hands traveled to grip the soft flesh of your ass through your skirt

“Please.”

“Then let me take care of you. You're the birthday girl after all.” He whispered before his lips were on yours.

The kiss started slow and passionate, before his hands gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you off the ground like it was nothing. The kiss became needy and sloppy. Saliva mixing as his hands roamed the area of your ass before gently placing you on the edge of your bed.

“Connie” You panted.

“You're so beautiful” He groaned, kissing down your body, his tongue running over your exposed cleavage before he unbuttoned your top.

Immediately his mouth was back on the soft flesh sucking gently on your nipple while he pinched and rolled the other.

“Fuck, Con” You whined, looking down into his hazel eyes that were staring you down. Releasing your nipple with a pop he gave attention to the other, his tongue rapidly flicking over the nub.

When he was finally satisfied with your whimpers and whines he let up his assault on your breast, peppering a trail of kisses down your pudgy belly before completely undressing you.

“You're so damn pretty. You know that?” He kneeled in front of you before separating your thighs. “Fuck”

Connie swore he could feel himself get lightheaded by how fast the blood rushed to his dick. The sight of your pretty pussy having him on the verge of cumming in his pants. Your pretty brown lips glistened with your arousal, the prettiest pink he'd ever seen peeking out between your folds the wider he opened your legs.

“Con.” You whined, cool air breezing against your clit.

“I got you, ma.” He gently kissed your clit. It wasn't long before he needed more, fingers digging into your thighs as his tongue traced the outline of your clit before dipping inside your folds, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked on the bud.

“C-Connie shit.” Your hands traveled to his head, long acrylic nails running over his buzzcut to hold his head in place.

Letting one leg fall he replaced his lips with his thumb, rubbing tight circles on your clit, as his tongue teased your hole before diving deeper. Your walls immediately clenching onto his tongue.

“Fuck pa, oh my god.” You whined, hips bucking as you tried to push his head away though it was no use. He was pussy drunk, his tongue relentless as it slurped up your arousal before diving back into your spasming hole. “Fuck, Connie m’cumming.” Moans spilled from your lips at your release.

Despite your shaky legs and attempts to push his head away, Connie continued to lap at your pussy, slurping every last drop of cum before lifting his head.

“You taste like fucking heaven.” He groaned, kissing your inner thighs before standing. Not bothering to wipe his chin of your cum before taking his shirt off. His flexing muscles and ink-littered torso had you feening for more. “Fuck, turn around, ma.” He pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips before flipping you around.

Your back arched, head resting on your arms. Connie couldn't resist the way your ass looked, kneading the soft flesh before landing a slap to your right cheek, eliciting a moan from your lips.

“What's your safe word mama?”

“Red.” You looked back, the sight of him spreading his pre-cum that leaked from his angry pink tip making your mouth water. He was big, at least 8 inches, thick, and fuck, it looked so heavy.

“Shit, m’gonna fill you up mami.” He slid his tip in between your folds, gathering your slick before lining up with your entrance.

“S-shit.” Connie let out a shaky breath as he sunk into your tight walls. “Fuck, relax, ma.” He could barely get his tip in without you squeezing him tight. “Breathe mami. I got you.” He gripped your hips sliding deeper into your soaked pussy, tip kissing your cervix once he fully rested inside you.

“Con.” You moaned, nails gripping the sheets tightly.

“I know mama.” He rubbed slow circles into your hips as he started to feed you slow deep strokes “Doing so good for me, look.” He tilted your head to the mirror. Your ass ricocheting off his hips with each thrust he delivered, his pace increasing.

“Fuck, Connie, please.” You moaned over the loud sounds of your pussy sucking him in and the claps of your ass.

Your words encouraged him to go faster. His hand wrapped around your throat, the pressure he applied mirroring the way your walls tightened around him.

“Ugh- fuck keep doing that nd imma put a baby in you.” He groaned. He was so deep, stretching you to full capacity. The repeated kissing of your cervix, having you see stars.

“Con I'm so- mhmmp I'm so close.” Connie could feel his balls tighten at your words. You were so addicting.

“Yeah? Gon head nd nut, mami. Let it go.” His eyes focused on where your bodies connected, a white sticky ring forming around the base of his dick.

“Shiiit” You moaned into the mattress, your walls spasming around his dick as you came, your cum dripping onto the mattress.

“Fuck” He groaned, his release following right after yours. Thick ropes of cum being shot deep inside you. He continued to give you slow strokes to ride out your orgasms before pulling out. After taking the time to clean you up he got you settled in bed, the party long forgotten as he rubbed soothing shapes onto your hip, giving you soft sloppy kisses as you drifted off to sleep.

“Happy Birthday mami.”

pt.2

had to do something for my baby connie also ik fuck was used a lot im sorry lol buuuuttt i like to think I'm getting better at this but idk y'all tell me.

[loveyouprongs]

did my heart love till now?

remus lupin x fem!reader | she’s a hopeless romantic who loves halloween. he loves her. or at least he very, very, strongly likes her in a way he’s never liked anyone else. enough to wear matching costumes

upcoming content: fluff! mentions of alcohol. lmk if you think i missed anything

authors note: i hope you like this! romeo & juliet is my favorite play and the 1996 film is my favorite movie! and remus is my favorite boy :’)!

word count: 2k

masterlist

remus had been staring at himself in the mirror for so long his reflection was starting to blur, like a watercolor painting made up of the soft brown of his hair, his pale complexion, and shining silver. he felt like a fool. “a lovesick fool,” james would say, but in this moment, he just felt like a fool. period.

“hey moony, have you decided what you’re going to be for halloween yet?” sirius asked as soon as he and james barged into their shared apartment. remus tore his gaze from his book at the sound of his best friend’s unnatural sounding greeting, loud and jilted as if he’d been practicing it.

“…no, wh-“

“well look no further!” james very enthusiastically exclaimed, pulling a brown bag out from behind his back which promptly fell to the ground, the contents now hanging between him and sirius. it was a knights armor. metal shoulder pads atop a slinky silver long sleeve top with chains resting across the chest.

“what the fuck is that?”

“your halloween costume!” james said as if it were obvious.

remus could do nothing but look at his two friends, who he cared for very deeply, as if they were right idiots.

“don’t you get it?” sirius asked, “it’s romeo!”

remus then felt his face red, heat rising to his cheeks all the way to his ears and he knew he couldn’t play dumb to get out of this.

last week at dinner you had said that you were planning on dressing as juliet for halloween. “from the movie of course!”

“isn’t that part of a couples costume?” marlene asked, “are you bringing a mystery man with you to my party?”

at that, remus tensed, his shoulders instinctively rising to his ears and his heart quickened waiting for your response. he hung out with you pretty much every day, you’re tight knit friend group always sharing at least one meal together. he felt like he would know if you had a boyfriend, but he was still feeling queasy waiting for your answer.

“no mystery men with me! i guess it could be a couple’s costume, but it’s so pretty, i don’t mind doing it solo.”

remus felt his body relax and continued to pick at his food, stealing glances at you whenever he could, missing the mischievous looks being traded between james and sirius.

“i am not wearing that,” remus said resolutely.

“why not? girls love this stuff!” sirius responded, tossing the costume on remus’ lap. he refused to touch it, as if any sign that he openly had feelings for you would somehow come back to bite him in the ass. it rested on his legs like an anchor.

“you want me to surprise her with a matching costume? that’s pathetic.”

“it’s sweet!” james stressed.

“yeah, and she’s always so heart eyed over that gooey romance shit, you show up in this and she’ll be begging for it!”

sirius’ crude comments was met with a smack in the head from james and an unimpressed stare from remus.

“remus, i’m telling you, this is a perfect idea! she’s single and dressing as one half of the greatest couples in history, if you show up as the other half, oh it’ll be like straight out of the pictures!” james swooned. remus felt his heart soften at his overdramatic friend, who he knew was just trying to help him be happy, but his nerves overpowered any convincing.

“you do know they both die at the end, right? kill themselves, even. not sure that’s a message i want to send.” remus muttered, standing up from the couch to go to his room, tired of his friend’s antics.

“you’ll never get a date by just staring at her, mate!” james called out, “and she’s well fit, too! you’re time is running out and you know it!” sirius added as remus walked down the hall, the metal costume in tow, only to be shoved in his closet.

but as halloween inched closer and his feelings for you only grew stronger, james and sirius’ words echoed in his head. he could never get the thought of your soft voice and sweet smile out of his mind, he liked you. so much.

you were always the one who kept listening to him when whatever he was saying was drowned out by the group. always spoke to him in dulcet tones, especially when you felt he had a headache. you were smart and funny and kind, not to mention beautiful. beautiful in a way that reminded him of the princesses and angels he would read about in books when he was a child. soft and warm, a glow seemingly always emanating from your figure.

remus would be content with just looking at you for the rest of his life, he thinks (deep down in the back of his brain, terrified of the strength of his own feelings) but it would be nice to do it without the feat of getting caught by your stare, or his friends taking the mick out of him afterwards.

so here he stood, his torso slightly weighed down by the heavy detailing, but it fit him well nonetheless. it was almost time for them to leave for marlene’s and remus could hear his friends in the living room. he had to make a decision soon.

“y’coming, moony?” james asked through the door.

remus took a deep breath, biting off a square of chocolate. he could do this. it was halloween! you’re supposed to be in a costume. and the film was popular enough, he figured, that he could play it off as a coincidence if things went south.

“…yeah, i’m coming.” he stepped out the door and walked down the hall, rolling his eyes at james’ loud gasp.

“oh my god you’re wearing it!” james practically screeched.

“don’t make me change my mind.”

“oh remus, you’re so handsome!” sirius teased in a high pitched voice, “please be my romeo!”

“for it is the east, and juliet is the sun!” james recited.

“that’s it, i’m changing!” remus exclaimed, only to be dragged back by his waist and walked out the door.

remus was hit by the noise of the party as soon as marlene swung the door open. her eyes trailed down james’ superhero outfit, sirius dressed as patrick bateman, and then remus, her face exploding in an open mouth smile. “reeeeemussss!!!!” she squealed, clearly already on her way to drunk, “you’re such a sweetheart!” she cooed, remus’ cheeks reddening more than he thought possible.

“isn’t he just? now let us in marls, it’s fucking freezing out here!” sirius said, and with a pat on the back, he and james were emerged in the crowd.

“she isn’t here yet, remus, but oh my god she’s going to love it,”

as the night went on remus had practically glued himself to marlene’s increasingly wasted side all night, no sign of james or sirius (who he would bet money are upstairs with dates, or each other), and more importantly no sign of you. he was feeling more foolish by the minute, the metal top growing uncomfortable against his sweaty skin.

disappointed was pooling in his stomach as marlene was nodding off on his shoulder, or so he thought, but he was brought out of his thoughts when a loud yelp escaped her. “you’re here! finally!”

marlene jumped up and stumbled over to a vision in white. flowing silk draped over your body, delicate, feathered wings pinned to your back. excess fabric tied around your waist, framing you beautifully. stunningly. remus felt like he was having an out of body experience, watching himself stand frozen in the middle of the living room, mouth slightly agape, willing himself to do anything other than stare.

“REEEEMUS LOOK! LOOK WHO IT IS!” marlene shout-whispered, shoving you towards him.

you felt your breath escape you at the sight. remus, tall and sweet, looking down at you, his tussled hair dancing across his forehead and his long fingers reached up to brush it out of his eyes, hand trembling. you weren’t fully convinced you weren’t dreaming.

“she, she’s pretty out of it,” he spoke softly, referring to marlene who was now dancing with a lamp.

“y-you look, i-i really like your costume, obviously” you murmured, fiddling with your hands, resisting the urge to run your hand down his sculpted cheeks.

ever since you met him, you believed remus was one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen. and then once you got to know him, got to experience first hand his limitless kindness, his witty remarks that always put the boys teasing to shame, and his rare barking laugh that only comes out when he finds something really funny (you elicited it from him once and have spent forever chasing that high).

all your friends said he had a thing for you. that he was always staring at you with soft, hooded eyes, move his plans around for you whenever you asked to study together, rest his jacket on the seat next to him so it would appear taken so no one else would sit down it it until you came.

but you were both famously mild-mannered, shy to a fault, and your feelings never rose to the surface, but the same couldn’t be said for right now.

“oh, thank you,” remus responded, “i thought it would be nice if we could match.”

a giggle escaped you at that and you looked down, unable to meet his eye, you both wearing twin smiles.

absolutely thrilled with your reaction, remus bent his body in half, tilting his head up to catch your gaze, eyes filled with hope, “what’d y’think?”

“i think you look very dashing, rem, i didn’t know you were a shakespeare fan.”

“hmm, not so much,” with a deep breath he let out, “i’m a fan of you, though”

the neon lights flashing over you both contributed to the bubble you found yourselves in. the rowdy guests nothing but white noise as you felt your heart pound against your chest over the soft spoken boy.

“really?” it slipped out. deep seeded insecurity worming it’s way to the forefront as you were positively overwhelmed with confronting your feelings… and that who you had them for.

remus’ heart splintered a little at your warbling ask, “yes” he let out, easy as breathing, “of course.” he placed a large hand on your shoulder, his thumb dancing on the edge of your collarbone.

“i’m a fan of you, too. more than anyone else,” you whispered with a step closer, your white ballet flats lightly knocking against the tips of his black boots, the space between you dwindling.

“aren’t i lucky,” remus murmured wistfully, “to have an angel say that about me”

with that you couldn’t take it anymore and pressed your lips to his, immediately getting lost in the sparks. unsure of what to do with your arms, you awkwardly placed them on remus’ forearms, as if you were holding him still in place. he smiled against your lips, the breath escaping from his chuckle dancing across your face as he lightly dragged your hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders.

you melted as he pulled you in, you gasped as he ran his tongue against your bottom lip, you chased after his lips when he pulled away with a stuttering breath. “y’have to give me a minute angel, or m’heart’s going to give out,”

you giggled, knowing exactly how he felt as he tucked his face into your neck.

“oi oi, c’mon lupin! what did i tell ya! i knew you could do it!” sirius shouted from across the room, thrusting his cup in the air in congratulations.

“oh christ,” remus muttered, his annoyance dissipating with your laugh.

“you are a lover, moony! borrow *hic* cupid's wings and soar with *hic* them above common ground!” james, although very drunk and hiccuping, recited.

all remus could do was roll his eyes, he had everything he wanted right in front of him. after he was done kissing you until the sun came up (and a little bit more after that), he could figure out when the fuck james seemingly memorized romeo and juliet.

[mywritersmind]

MESSY - LN4

pt.2

summary : Lando will not quit in attempts to keep seeing y/n piastri. The Azerbaijan Grand Prix ends triumphantly for the piastri family, followed by a flirty dinner, and paper being thrown at her in the early morning.

OG SUMMARY (After a steamy night together, neither Y/n or Lando expected to see eachother soon. Well, when they find eachother in the paddock and come to the realization that Y/n is a Piastri and Lando is Oscar’s teammate… things get interesting.)

listen up : piastri!reader. nothing major!! mentions of sex.

word count : 1453

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m fucking extatic.

My mom and I came to Baku on a whim and now I'm hugging my champagne soaked brother after a pole position with my sisters on facetime.

The race was genuinely insane and my mom cried the whole time. Turns out all the F1 I watched at home is a million times better in person.

Especially when this time I can see everybody’s faces.

An hour later I'm waiting for Oscar to change while my mom is on a call. I look up when someone enters the room, he’s dark haired with huge brown eyes. “Oh- Hi.” His accent hits me and I'm star struck at my third favorite driver, Carlos Sainz.

“Hi.” I smile and look back at my phone, sort of freaking out on the inside.

He doesn’t move though, “Uh… I'm looking for Lando, have you seen him?” At the mention of the McLaren driver's name I feel my stomach twist.

“No sorry.” He nods and looks around the orange room.

“You’re not here with him?”

Here with him?

“No… I’m Oscar’s sister, Y/n.” His face makes an ‘o’ expression before shaking off and smiling.

“Shit! Your brother did well today. I’m Carlos.” I laugh a bit and am about to respond before Lando enters the room in black jeans, a mclaren shirt, and socks only. He looks at Carlos and I back and forth before raising a brow. Carlos turns to see him and says something in a hushed tone.

“Right…” Lando glances at me but rips his eyes away quickly.

“I didn’t know Piastri had a sister.” Carlos crosses his arms as I stand.

“Four, actually.” I laugh a bit, “Norris have you seen Oscar? We’ve got reservations.” I want to talk about his race but it feels wrong. P15 to P4 is pretty wild though. And sort of hot.

He basically laughs in my face, “He’s gonna be a while… No chance you’re making those reservations.”

I give him an annoyed look, “Great.”

“Don’t hate the messenger, love.” He doesn’t even flinch, but Carlos does.

He looks at Lando, horrified like he did something scandalous. As if he feels bad, he looks at me, “Look- your family can join us if you want.” Lando is the one to give him a look this time.

“So your guys’ reservations will work, but mine won’t?” I cross my arms at the men.

“You used your own name to make them?” Lando asks, I nod and as he tries to hide his smile he says, “Yeah you can come with us.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Oscar is confused at the invite but goes along with it. My mom decides to stay at the hotel for some work calls which makes me more nervous. I’m now alone with my brother, my hookup, Carlos’ clueless ass, Alex Albon, and Max Verstappen.

I almost cry when Alex’s girlfriend joins us. Lily and I follow eachother and have DM’d a few times but meeting in person is like me being saved.

“So, Y/n! Enjoy the race today?” Alex asks me cheerily, pouring more water into his glass with an arm around Lily.

“No race talk!” Lando and Max say in unison. I don’t really know how they do it. They race each other for two hours, are always pissy after, then just switch to being friendly so quick.

I look at Carlos who’s talking merrily with Alex, surprising considering he was a lap away from a podium before his dreams were crushed by a RedBull and a prayer.

The table we’re at is large and oddly enough, round. The restaurant is beautiful and mostly deserted except for our table. I’m next to Lily and Oscar, Lando across from me.

I’m acutely aware that he’s across from me because he hasn’t taken his eyes off me. I watch his hands move his Monza pole ring around his finger. God his hands. His hands that were all over me-

“Y/n, What are you ordering?” Lily asks which shakes me from my imagination.

After ordering we fall into comfortable conversation which eventually ends in me making fun of Oscar with photos from our childhood. “Right then! That’s enough.” Oscar eyes me when my phone swipes to a photo of Osc dressed up as a car.

“We know Oscar’s kink now.” Max jokes and I cringe, “What? They always stem from childhood!”

“So who you calling daddy then, Verstappen?” Lando doesn’t miss a beat, Max side eyes him. “No need to be ashamed, Osc.”

“Not in front of my baby sister, please.” He looks around the group who are all laughing.

“Come on, you're a year older than me!” I sigh, “You don’t know what I get up to.”

He makes a disgusted face.

“Or who.” I add simply, sipping my drink as Lando chokes on his. His face is red after Max slaps him on the back.

Oscar ends up changing the conversation around to old karting days and how I was dragged along. I eventually excuse myself to the bathroom, checking my hair and washing my hands, as I leave I run into Lando.

“Hi pretty.” He smirks as I roll my eyes.

“Would you stop staring at me? Oscar isn’t blind.”

He shrugs, “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s kinda difficult when you look like that.” I’m going to pretend that didn't do something to me and move on.

“Nice race today. Sort of impressive.” I match his cool demeanor which he loses after my words.

“A compliment?” He grins, god his smile is ridiculous and when it’s directed at me I want to faint, “Thanks love. Wanna celebrate with me later?”

“Careful with the nickname, Norris. I’ll be celebrating with the man who actually won.”

Speaking of, Oscar joins us in the hall, his face dropping when he sees us, “Please tell me you aren’t friends already.” I stand up straighter, “I can’t have you two combine forces against me.”

This makes me laugh, “Don’t worry, Osci.” I squeeze his shoulder before stepping away.

Lando follows, “Yeah I don’t think we’re the friends type.” I eye him behind me, he just winks.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m pretty sure the world is working against me. Or maybe for me?

We’ve got an extra day in Baku to spend with Oscar. I woke up early, getting hot chocolate and settling on my balcony with my book and pajamas.

I’m happy in the early light, breathing in the fresh air when I hear a whistle. My eyes are drawn down to the man running shirtless, shading his eyes from the sun while looking up at me.

“Good morning!” Lando sings, that smile already planted onto his face. He looks way too tan, sweaty, and fit for five in the morning.

“Morning.” I say back.

“Watcha reading?” I raise a brow, confused because no guy ever cares about that.

“Um. Little women.” I close the book and flash him the cover. He nods.

“I have something for you!” He reaches into his pocket and I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a boom box.

He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, “Are you sending me a nude by hand?”

He laughs out loud, “No! It’s my number!” He throws it up but the wind pushes it right back down, landing at his feet.

He frowns and tries again, “You’re quite bold for a one night stand.” The paper falls again and I try not to laugh. He grabs it, looking up at me once again. I can see the blueness of his eyes even from stories up.

“Who said it was just a one night stand?” He squeezes the paper tighter. When he throws it once more, it finally lands on my balcony but Lando’s eyes jet to the balcony next to mine.

“The hell are you doing?” My brother's voice makes my eyes go wide. I had forgotten he’s right next door.

“Coming to see you, of course!” Lando opens his arms wide.

I can practically hear Oscar shaking his head, “Go away.” Lando nods and starts to jog backwards, his eyes meet mine once last time, making my breath stop short.

He smiles wider, turning around and following his route.

I shake my head, smiling to myself and opening the crinkled ball of paper. It reads his number and a small note.

Give me a chance, Y/n. You won’t regret it.

[angelsforthenight]

MRS. AND MRS. SMITH — abby anderson x fem!reader

ways you can help gaza 🇵🇸

do not buy tlou2 remastered!

a/n: this is way more inspired by the mr and mrs smith series (2024) not the 2005 one!!! this explains why they’re wives :3

you’re an assassin along with your assigned partner/wife, abby anderson. fed up with her toxic behaviour, you’re pleased when the mission is centred around you seducing a man for murderous motives. why? well, because you know it’ll get under abby’s skin. little did you know, things would blow over way more than you thought it would.

cw: mdni, owen feature🤮🤮, long fic, kinda slow-burn ig?, femme fatale, arranged marriage couple, kinda toxic relationship, violence, mention of blades, car sex, mean!abby, bratty!reader, dom!abby, degrading, bdsm, ass-smacking, finger-fucking, cursing, jealous!abby, hair pulling, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, rough sex, teasing, squirting.

“short brown hair, rugged beard. got that?” abby’s murmuring voice comes in from the earpiece you’ve got attached. you groan and roll your eyes, wishing you could mute the goddamn thing.

see, any other day, you would’ve loved to hear your wife’s pretty little voice guiding you — her praises when you’d do something right or her degrades if you’d do something wrong both sending shivers down your spine, compelling you to do whatever she wanted.

but not today. today you’re over it. so what do you respond with?

“yeah, i know, anderson. we both got the fucking brief.” you hiss. you know how pissed abby gets whenever you curse at her; so that’s exactly what you do. you relish at the thought of her gritting her teeth, not being able to snap at you in front of all of these people.

that’s right, you two are at a charity gala event. it’s fancy. too fancy to the point where it’s intimidating: glistening chandeliers, artistic decorations and bustling people wearing glamorous attire. you and abby needed to blend in with the crowd so not only are you two dressed smartly for the occasion but are also split up. not that you’re complaining. you’re sick of her. sick of her petulance whenever you’d get glorified by the agency instead of her, sick of how sometimes she can be so simple-minded, sick of how, at points, she lacks at making you feel loved.

your job is to take out an owen moore, for unforeseen reasons. you never question what the agency tells you to do, neither does abby.

you’re planning to lure him in an concealed area with your enticing charisma, make him believe you’re going to sleep with him before slicing him dead with your blade. you prowl through the many people, scanning the area with a keen eye to find him. claude debussy plays as background music, taming your harrowing nerves. killing is never easy.

“found him yet?” abby sighs.

“please don’t distract me.” there’s way too many people and it’s beginning to stress you out. what if you never find him? failing the mission is the last thing you wanna do.

“i’m getting bored. plus, small talk with strangers pisses me off.” she complains.

“not my goddamn problem.” you retort, the ends of your tight-fitting dress flailing against your legs as you pick up the pace, worrying if there’s not enough time, worrying if he’s even here in the first place.

“literally what is your problem? acting extra fuckin’ snobby tonight...”

your eyebrows knit together. abby always finds a way to get under your skin.

“let’s not fucking start—“ you’re about to snap and make yourself look like a fool in front of all of these people until somebody accidentally bumps into you: spilling his drink all over your dress. great!

“oh shit. sorry, i didn’t mean that.” you hear a man’s voice as you stare down at your ruined dress in disbelief. you slowly glance up at the culprit; only to find the noted brown hair and rugged beard staring right back at you. owen moore.

despite your worked up embarrassment and your extreme annoyance, you manage to flash a smile.

“it’s okay, but... you do realise you owe me now right?” you bat your eyelashes, hoping you don’t look silly.

“and what’s that?” owen chuckles, rubbing the back of his head and making immense eye contact. he’s already flirting back, you think. this is about to be so fucking easy.

with a few drinks, owen’s already tipsy and you’re leading him to the vast room. you make him believe you’re just as woozy; stumbling and giggling away. you take advantage of his obliviousness: your hand brushing against the slit of your dress, fingers cupping the wooden handle of the blade in the garter wrapped around your thigh. whilst he laughs and babbles nonsense, you carefully trace the edge of the blade — feelings of excitement rushing to the surface. regardless of the fact that killing is never easy, it’s also never not exhilarating.

you’re about to fully whip out the blade until owen decides to be bold: setting his slobbery hands against the small of your back and trying to lean in for a kiss.

“woah.” you feign a grin, pulling his hands away. “we go at my pace.”

“aww… please?” he mumbles, trying to seem like an adorable puppy but instead making it look disgusting. this is sad, you think. you try to grab your knife again but he’s now grabbing your arms; desperate for a fruitless smooch.

“come on… don’t play hard to get.” he growls, his sudden aggression catching you a little off guard. no need for stress, you know what to do. your knee prepares itself to kick hard in between his legs until somebody’s arm suddenly emerges from behind, wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.

“what—“ you breathe in bewilderment, eyes widening. despite owen choking and uselessly clawing at abby’s arm for escape, her gaze stays intently trained on yours; a death stare. it’s unnerving.

it doesn’t take long for owen to turn cold and slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head. abby lets him go, but not without cracking his neck first, and you watch as he flops onto the floor.

“what the fuck, abby…” you mutter, palming a frustrated hand across your face. “where the hell did you even come from?”

“there’s doors.” she tilts her head towards the backdoor behind her. you hadn’t even noticed it. your eyes travel back to her; irresistibly ogling at the black suit clinging to her body, complimenting her form. you almost forget you’re supposed to be mad at her.

the blonde chuckles wryly, a petty exhale. “you starin’? assumed pussy boys were more your type.”

“real fucking mature.” you snarl. “i had him. i was this close to killing him, abby.”

“you were taking too long.” abby shrugs, condescendingly pouting. you grit your teeth.

“jealousy? really? grow up.”

“at least i watch where i’m going. nice dress, the wet splotch is a nice touch, really.” she slanders, narrowing her eyes. you scoff, trying to pretend as if that dig didn’t offend you.

“you’re a fucking child. help me with the body.”

you two leave the building with ease, pretending as if owen is a friend that’s had too much to drink, wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and leading him to your car. abby opens the boot and you two push him inside. you two will decide on how deal with the body later.

for now, you’re sat on the passenger’s seat whilst abby drives, the two of you salty and quiet. abby’s driving way too fast; her hand gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it. she’s obviously fuming.

“can you slow down?” you glare at her.

“you owe me… i mean, who even says that?” abby grumbles, ignoring your request.

“a lot of people do. now slow down, we don’t wanna attract attention from police knowing there’s a dead body back there.”

“not to mention that you’ve had an attitude since last night! the way you were flirting with that oliver guy? or whatever the fuck his name was, had to be on purpose. to spite me.”

abby starts driving even faster, increasing your stress. “owen.” you correct, “you’re so self absorbed!” you continue to beg for her to slow down.

“he’s, like, the embodiment of revolting too. don’t even get me started at the way he was trying to force himself on you. i should’ve put a bullet in his brain.” abby rattles on, pure jealousy oozing from her tone.

“you were definitely enjoying it too. i know you were.” she turns her head to look at you, not paying attention to the road.

“abby. abby!” you scream as abby almost runs through a poor family trying to cross the road.

“fuck.” abby murmurs as she swerves messily, just in the nick of time, steering into a deserted field. the two of you are out of breath from the fright, hearts racing from the adrenaline. abby rests her head on the wheel, letting out a long sigh.

“just what the hell is the matter with you?” you scold, “all this shit over a mission? are you serious?” abby’s lack of response leads you to continue yelling at her.

“of course we’re going to have to flirt with our targets now and then! the fuck happened to your professionalism? if i had known you’d be acting like this then i would’ve never—“

“why didn’t you kiss him?” abby raises her head to look up at you, her face blank. you blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected question.

“i…” you look away. you’re not exactly up for abby knowing that you couldn’t kiss him because of her. “where even are we anyway?”

“nice try. since you’re so professional, why didn’t you kiss him? he clearly wanted to. you could’ve easily killed him then.” the corner of abby’s lips arch up into a smirk — the familiar smug look of hers that never fails to get you weak.

“for someone who’s had so much to say just a second ago…” she leans in a little, arm resting against your headrest, “…you’re awfully quiet.” her voice is hushed down to a soft whisper, and you swear you’re beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

“look, abby, you’re my wife… so…” you mumble in response to her pressing question, avoiding eye contact. abby chuckles, loosening her tie. here comes the floodgates.

“don’t play dumb and pretend as if the agency didn’t arrange that.” her finger presses against the dome light of the car; illuminating your embarrassed face. just what she wanted to see.

“you’ve been enjoying yourself, seeing me all jealous like this. you liked playing femme fatale, hmm?” her finger slowly twists itself around a strand of your hair, before she yanks a handful, forcing your head closer. you wince, eyes clenched shut. your cunt decides to flex too — reminding you that she’s got a mind of her own, and that she finds being in an empty field like this, in abby’s car, pretty fucking hot.

“let’s face it…” abby whispers, so close that you can feel her breath tickling your ear, shooting heavy tingles down your body.

“you want me so bad it hurts.” her eyes drift down to your thighs that are starting to shift uncomfortably in your seat. it’s beginning to ache down there and it seems like abby’s aware of that. you can’t help it. after all, abby sitting so close: loose strands of hair framing her face, unfastened tie and darkened eyes fixed on you, feels so good that it’s suffocating.

you squirm a little and abby grins, her fingers still laced in your hair. her grip slightly tightens as she licks her lips. she looks hungry.

“maybe what hurts is your fingers in my hair.” you quip, though your voice is a little shaky.

“maybe you need to fix your attitude.” abby retorts, “like, seriously, pipe down… you’re probably soaking down there.” she snickers, right on the money.

“fuck you.” you glare at her, gauging her reaction. you want to believe you’re saying this out of sheer anger for what went down tonight, but deep down, you know that’s not the case. in reality, you just want to get under abby’s skin. it’s what you’ve been craving since the beginning; to get her pissed.

you wipe the pleased look off of abby’s face, which is now replaced with a frown. your heart pounds with anticipation: so much so that your chest faintly heaves, lips parted.

abby’s eyes wander to your lips and in one swift movement, she pulls you in; pressing her lips against yours. you’re quick to kiss her back, the sweetness of her mouth sealing yours. fervent can’t even begin to explain the way you two are kissing. akin to wild animals, small muffled groans escape the both of you.

desperation is thick in the confined air of the car, as abby pulls away and shrugs her blazer off. you stare up at her.

“hurry… with your slow-ass.” you whine.

“watch your fucking mouth. c’mere.” abby commands. you naturally do as she says and she begins to unzip your dress — not without making sure to go deliberately slow.

“why do you have to be so mean?” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of her neck.

“oh, trust me… i’m only gonna be meaner.” she warns whilst planting gentle kisses on your neck. you’ve always admired abby for her ability to vary from being sour to tender in seconds. little did you know, the peppered kisses on your neck served as a prior apology to how cruel she’s going to treat you in a second.

once everything is off, abby marvels at your body. like a painting in an art gallery, she makes sure to pay attention to even the minuscule details of your body. it’s her favourite thing in the entire world.

“turn around.” abby mutters, her eyes hazy; voice bleeding with lust.

“what?”

“just do it.”

you hesitantly do as she says. abby beams: finding your weak resistance amusing yet is also excited to break you.

“now… bend over.” she coos, clearly poking fun.

you shoot her a glare, cheeks flushed. “what am i, your dog?”

“don’t piss me off.”

you glare at her for a few seconds longer before sighing, reluctantly bending over.

“arching that back and everything… wooow.” abby teases, “and to think i haven’t even touched you yet.”

“oh, just fuck off, abby…” you complain, the embarrassment beginning to overwhelm you.

“what was that?”

“i said fuck—“ but you’re cut off by a yelp when abby brings her palm down flat against your ass. you flinch violently; very, very taken off guard.

“mm? didn’t quite hear you. repeat yourself.” abby taunts, smacking you again. you grunt and flinch yet again, feeling the sting of her slap coarse through your body. abby’s humiliating you, milking every last drop of your embarrassment. the worst thing yet? you’re enjoying this way more than you should be.

“i’m not kidding. speak.” abby commands, showing no signs of mercy. your skin is already starting to gleam red, and your pussy? well, it’s a fucking party down there.

“abby…” you cry, completely under her control. the more she smacks, flesh recoiling under her palm, the more your head goes blank.

“go on babe… finish what you were saying before.” abby prods. this time, when she smacks you, her fingers grasp the flesh on your ass tightly; watching in delight as her fingertips leave little red marks. you’re trembling like a leaf, both from the pain and the arousal.

see, the thing with abby is that she never likes to let things go. she adores jabbing at you until she gets what she wants.

another smack, this one so hard that you need to press your palms against the window. abby then grips your waist and pulls you way closer; making your ass press against her hips.

“you wanna get fucked?” abby mutters, teasingly bringing your waist back and forth against her hips: hard, playful thrusts. your bare cunt pressing against her crotch is, without a doubt, driving you insane. you frantically nod in response to her question, in which abby replies with latching her hand around your neck; forcing you upright so that your back is now against her chest.

“use your words.”

“y-yes…” tears begin to stream down your face. you’re desperate, yearning for her touch as if it’s a life or death situation.

“so finish what you were saying.” her fingers slightly squeeze around the sides of your neck.

“i-i told you to f-fuck off but i d-didn’t… haa… mean it.” you splutter. the you a while ago would’ve had her mouth agape in horror at your behaviour right now.

“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” abby coos, her fingers tracing down your stomach, in between your thighs. long, drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers pressing just the right amount of pressure. you groan, and abby taps her chin against your shoulder; smirking at how your legs are writhing, desperate for more.

“where’d all your attitude go?” the blonde ridicules. her other hand moves over to your breast, squeezing it, her thumb caressing your nipple. as to the hand working on you, her middle and ring finger brush against your folds; up and down. she’s touching you but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough: abby knows that.

“don’t do this to me, abby…” you exasperate. she lets out a breathy chuckle before flipping you over and setting you down onto the car seat. she reclines it back, eyes yet again fixed on you. you stare up at her with big glossy eyes, your head blank as if you’ve been dumbed down.

abby gloats at how helpless you look, grabbing your face with one hand and squishing your cheeks. “you look stupid.”

“shut up and fuck me.” you mutter in a muffled tone. abby laughs as if what you’ve said was the funniest joke in the entire world. you wonder if abby can feel your cheeks burning up against her palm.

before you know it, abby plows her thick fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand still clenched on your cheeks.

“this what you wanted?” abby purrs, fingers curling up against your g-spot already. you moan, back arching and squirming.

“oh! riiiiight, you can’t speak.” she gloats, playfully shaking your head with her hand. you whine in embarrassment, yet you secretly enjoy how she’s handling you like a doll.

abby’s finger-fucking you rough, wet squelch noises filling up the car. the sound of it is so erotic that it leaves you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the blonde releases her grip on your face but not her thumb, that slips inside of your mouth.

“suck.” you mindlessly do as she says, as if you’re brainwashed. you can see abby’s cheeks tint red when you slowly suck her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact.

abby chuckles, looking away. seems like she didn’t think you’d actually do it.

“you’re shy.” you point out. you triumph over the fact that now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.

“shut the fuck up.” abby says brusquely, her fingers operating way harder than before; relentlessly pounding against your g-spot. you cry, feeling overwhelmingly good.

that rigid attitude you had a moment ago? now dead and buried. you feel surreal, a series of mewls and sobs leaving your lips.

“nothing smart to say anymore? you look fucking pathetic.” and she’s right. you look like a hot mess. abby smothers your tears all over your face. you mindlessly move your hips, fucking yourself on her fingers. she smirks, loving what she’s seeing. you feel a knot beginning to untie in your stomach, sublime throbs coursing all over your body.

“i’m cumming…” you manage to choke out.

“i know.” abby buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you shiver at the feel of her breath against your skin.

“i’ll decide to be nice and let you finish.”

and that’s your cue. with an ending moan to seal it off, you feel your body tense up, eyes widening. abby leans in and presses her forehead against yours. you squeeze your eyes shut, before your body relaxes. you’re panting like a dog, staring up at abby with foggy and depleted eyes.

“so cute…” she murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you — this time, soft and tender as opposed to the way she was kissing you before. you feel warm.

so absorbed in each other, you two forget about how you’re in the middle of nowhere and how the body in the car boot needs to be dealt with. for now, you two have something more important to worry about: how you’re gonna clean up the mess you’ve left all over the chair and dashboard.

a/n: you made it !!! thought it’d be funny if the target was owen😭😭 hope u enjoyed reading <3

[moonstruckme]

Apple pie with spencer read and qn airport terminal qt midnight

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of bad eating habits, mentioned unease around germs

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 729 words

“Spence.” Your voice is soft, your fingers combing through his hair even softer. Spencer’s head rests heavy on your shoulder. You shield his eyes from the harsh lights with a hand, hoping to rouse him gently. “Honey, wake up.” 

Spencer’s eyebrows furrow. Or, one does, the other already squished towards furrowing by the way it’s laying on your shoulder. You hate to wake him—Spencer tends to have a hard time relaxing at airports, what with all the germs—but your window to get something to eat is closing. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” you ask him, coaxing. 

“No,” he mumbles, but he’s blinking awake, looking up at you with soft, sleepy brown eyes. “Are you?”

You give him a sheepish smile. “A little. Sorry, do you mind if I get up to go look for something? Everything’s closing.” 

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I almost made you miss dinner.” Spencer sits up, stretching his neck. He pushes his shoulders back lazily, and you can hear his bones crackle. “I’ll go with you.”  

You protest half-heartedly but ultimately capitulate, picking up the heavy backpack before he can and leaving your boyfriend to tow the suitcase. At this time the airport is near empty, the only people to be seen the sad band of vagabonds sitting at your gate waiting for your plane to arrive. You’ve been delayed two hours by the weather. Spencer will have to wake up four hours from when you get home to go to work, you only a half hour later.

You realize as you walk that you may be too late. While the websites you’d checked had said their airport locations would be open until midnight, the employees are already cleaning out machines, wiping down counters, pulling metal gates closed over their entrances. 

Spencer makes a worried oh sound, realizing the same thing.

“There’s an Auntie Anne’s down there,” you say hopefully, starting to walk faster in case they’re closing, too. That glowing yellow sign is your light at the end of the tunnel.

Spencer speeds up with you, but protests, “A pretzel isn’t a meal, sweetheart.” 

“It might be my only option,” you point out. “Also, I saw you eat a bag of salt and vinegar chips for dinner last week. You don’t get to talk.” 

You hear a soft, slightly petulant huff behind you. You might give him shit for it if you weren’t in a rush. 

You try to order as quickly as possible, feeling guilty for making the employee serve you just before close. But then the cup is in your hand, warm and smelling of cinnamon, and you think you probably would have vaulted the counter to get it yourself had she refused you. It’s heavenly. 

You wait until you get back to the gate to start eating, wanting to savor every bite. When you do, you have to close your eyes, forcibly smothering a moan. They’re everything you wanted and more. You shovel them into your mouth faster than is probably safe and definitely faster than anyone’s mother would approve of, and it’s not until you’re more than halfway done that you notice Spencer’s stare.

You give him a wry look. “So now you’re hungry?” 

“What?” He looks startled. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re practically drooling.” 

“No, I’m not,” he says, though you notice him tighten his lips as though checking to be sure. 

You sigh, holding them out to him. “It’s okay. Have some.” 

“No.” Spencer frowns with his eyebrows. “They’re yours.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you say, more genuinely this time. “I’d hate for you to miss out. They’re really good.” 

He can only resist temptation for so long. He takes one, and his reaction is nearly the same as yours had been, expression going soft at the perfect, delicious warmth of them. 

“In exchange,” you suggest as he reaches for more, “can I take a turn napping on your shoulder for a while?” 

“Yeah, of course,” says Spencer, managing to sound smitten even though a mouthful of cinnamon pretzel bites. He settles back in his chair, trying to give you as comfortable a pillow as possible. 

“Thanks.” You sigh through your nose as you lay your head down, pulling your legs up onto the chair with you and closing your eyes. “I can’t believe we have to go to work tomorrow morning.” 

“This morning,” Spencer corrects you. 

You groan. 

[dizscreams]

Hobie x fem reader where he gets a little jealous that’s shes been hanging out with another guy and she reassures him

NO NEED TO BE JEALOUS

— Hobie Brown ★

PAIRING: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

A/N: The Hobie brainrot is crazy

You crawled out of bed in a rush since you were already late to your hangout with Miles, accidentally waking up your boyfriend in the process. “Where you off to?” He asked groggily watching as you quickly grabbed a shirt and shimmied into your pants. “Hanging out with Miles!”

“Miles Morales?”

“Yeah, I told you this last night.”

You smirked at his muttered “Of course its Miles” but carried on getting ready like you didn’t hear it.

You put on mascara quickly and checked the time again. “What do you do when you’re with him?” He asked curiously. You looked at him as he propped his elbow on the bed and looked at you tiredly. “Not much,” you chuckled, “He’s been helping me with my drawings recently, giving me tips and all of that boring stuff.”

He nodded and opened his mouth to say something before you cut him off, “Shit I gotta go. I’ll see you later, I love you!” You kissed his head and grabbed one of Hobie’s jackets before running off. He groaned and rolled over to put his head into his pillow. He trusted you, he really did, but he didn’t know Miles too well.

He was a good kid it seemed but you had been spending a lot more time with Miles than you were with Hobie. But Hobie wasn’t jealous, of course not! He didn’t get jealous. He just wished you spent more time with your actual boyfriend than with a kid you just met.

That was it.

That night Hobie waited in your room for you to come home. You ended up coming home at 9 o’clock at night. You stepped through the portal and immediately greeted your boyfriend. “Oh hey, you’re still here?” You asked as you sat on the bed next to him. “Yeah, you were out late.” You looked at the clock and grimaced, “Were you waiting this whole time?”

Hobie nodded in reply and you kissed his cheek, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. Miles and I were spray painting all the spider people we’re friends with and it’s super cool. You should come see it sometime!” You ranted as you got up from your position on the bed and changed into more comfy clothes, that being an oversized t-shirt of Hobies and some sweatpants.

“You spent the whole day with him?”

“Yeah,” you replied nonchalantly as you laid down on the bed, sighing as your back his the comfy mattress.

You patted the spot next to you and Hobie moved to sit upright against the headboard. “Are you okay?” You asked looking up at him. “Fine, just fine,” he responded in a way that told you he was definitely not just fine. You put a hand on his arm and moved to prop yourself up so that you were now sitting upright against the headboard as well.

“What’s wrong?”

You would be lying if you said his crossed arms and slight pout didn’t amuse you. You knew exactly what was wrong, you just wanted to mess with him a bit. This was about Miles. Everytime you mentioned his name you saw Hobie roll his eyes or you heard a small annoyed groan. It was funny to you, but you couldn’t tell him that.

“You’re spending a lot of time with this Miles fella, don’t you think?”

You hid your smile and shrugged, “Guess so. He’s just a good friend is all.”

“A good friend?” He repeated, “You’ve known him three days tops.”

“Hobie?”

“What?”

“Do you think you might be jealous of Miles?”

He made a weird face and you laughed. “It’s okay to admit it you know,” you gave him a teasing smile and put your chin on his shoulder. “You’re kinda hot when you’re jealous.”

He rolled his eyes and gently pushed your head off his shoulder, “Shut up. Ain’t jealous.” Your smile turned into a grin, “Right, is that why you can’t even look at me when you say it?” He turned his head to look at you and gave you a glare. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you aren’t jealous,” you said with a small laugh.

“You serious?”

“Extremely.”

He hated how much fun you were getting out of this but couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his lips. "M' not jealous of some 15 year old.” You hummed, “Thought you hated labels.” He shook his head and out of no where grabbed your waist and put you on his lap. He laughed at the yelp you let out and you hit his shoulder. “You could’ve given me a warning!”

“You didn’t deserve it.”

You scoffed, “You are unbelievable, Hobie.”

“What? You don’t like me teasing you, after all you’ve said to me?” You stayed silent with a pout on your lips and he kissed your forehead, “Cmon now, ’s just fun and games, love.” “Jus fun and games, love.” You mimicked with your familiar smile returning back to your face. You laughed at his reaction before leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder and put your arms around him.

“Back to the main point, you are jealous.”

He let out a breath and nodded, “Suppose so.”

“Ha! I knew it!”

“Ay! Just a bit. Lets not forget that you were jealous of Gwen one time.”

“Okay, shut up.”

He laughed and you smiled, “I just want you to know you’re the only guy I want. You’re cooler than Miles, but don’t tell him I said that,” you warned as you observed the dumb smirk on his face. “I wont.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He put his arms around your torso and you both stayed like that until you fell asleep.

Maybe he was stupid to be jealous of Miles but the outcome was completely worth it.

[harrywavycurly]

Lasagna Casserole: A Harry Styles AU One Shot✨

Masterlist: Here

Pairing: Killer!Harry x Wife!Reader

TW: Harry is a serial killer(yeah you read that correctly), mentions of blood, handling of a body after death.

A/N: This is random as hell and honestly it’s not even that dark minus the fact Harry does kill people BUT you’ll never really see how, but I get it if this isn’t your thing. I just had to get it out of my brain to make room for other stuff.

Summary: You call your husband Harry while he’s working because you don’t know what to bring to your company potluck, enjoy you having no clue what your man really does for work and Harry not hesitating to answer your call no matter how busy he is✨

“Really?” Harry shoots his coworker and longtime friend Mitch a glare as he spots his long brown hair falling around his face as the two of them look at the body in the trunk of a rental car. “You don’t have a hair tie? You’re going to leave hair follicles all over the body and we aren’t exactly supposed to even know who the fuck this man is.” He snaps making Mitch let out a huff as he pulls out a scrunchie from his back pocket so he can quickly put his hair in a low bun.

“Hair follicles? You’ve been watching that show again haven’t you?” Mitch asks as he grabs his bag from the trunk and slings the strap over his shoulder.

“It’s called forensic files and it’s a good show.” Harry says with a shrug as he grabs his duffle bag before closing the trunk. “You could learn a thing or two actually because did you know they can get DNA from inside someone’s teeth? Like not just dental records and all that. Like if you don’t do a proper job at pulling them out they can somehow get like the pulp or some-”

“Are you saying I don’t do a good job?” Mitch tilts his head to the side as he looks at Harry who just shakes his head and reaches over and gives his friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“You kidding? You’re an artist with a pair of pliers in your hand.” Harry watches as a small smile appears on his face as the two of them begin making their way towards a familiar section of woods near the end of the deserted parking lot. “But the show teaches you a lot of weird mistakes other people have made like really you’d be shocked at some of the odd shit people do when killing someone.” This makes Mitch raise an eyebrow as he digs around in his bag for a flashlight, he pushes the on button to make sure it works and nods in approval to himself when it turns on without any issue.

“Like what?” He asks as he turns the flashlight off before handing it to Harry who puts it in his duffle bag, Mitch is always in charge of making sure the two of them have their kits properly stocked for after the job is done. While Harry is more so in charge of making sure they have everything they could possibly need to get the job done however the two of them see fit, it always depends on their mood and who the person is as to how they go about handling it but both of them usually prefer to be as clean and quick as possible.

“Biting.” Harry states as he grabs the gloves Mitch hands to him, he catches the look of disgust flash across his friend’s face and he just nods in agreement. “Yeah I know. It’s like a thing though apparently? It’s been a major factor on a few episodes on how the killers get caught because they leave their bite marks on their victims.” He explains as he slips the gloves into his front pocket so he’ll be able to reach them quicker a little later on when it comes time to take the man out of the trunk.

“Fucking weirdos.” Mitch mumbles as he leads the way down to the trail the two of them have used quite a few times since they found it over a year ago.

“Another thing is footwear.” Harry says with a huff as he adjusts his duffle bag on his shoulder. “The things these people can do to trace your shoes back to you is a little concerning but also very neat.” Mitch lets out a chuckle as Harry continues to talk about the odd things that could potentially get a murderer caught.

“Do I need different shoes?” Mitch asks as they begin to get a little deeper into the woods using the trail.

“No your shoes are fine but just know they can be traced back to you.”

“Like to me specifically or just to where I bought them?”

“To you. I watched them go from making an impression of someone’s shoe to them finding the store and from there finding the owner of the damn shoe.”

“Jesus. Well I can’t just be out here barefoot.”

“Well no shit.”

“So what should I do Mr. Forensic Files?”

“I’m not saying you need to do anything just be aware-” Harry stops his rant making Mitch turn and look at him and that’s when he notices Harry has also stopped walking, Mitch opens his mouth to say something but Harry is quick to hold a finger up as he grabs his phone out of his back pocket allowing the faint buzzing sound to be heard since Harry was smart enough to turn the ringer off but made sure he’d still know if you called or texted him. A smile takes over his face when he sees your name flashing on the screen, Mitch rolls his eyes as he watches Harry slide his thumb across the screen so he can answer the call.

“Hey baby.” Harry says sweetly into the phone as he gives Mitch a look that tells him to continue walking, Harry hears you let out a sigh of relief as the two of them continue down the unused bike trail just outside the cities largest cemetery, it’s a rather nice trail but Harry understands why it’s untouched seeing as not many people enjoy an afternoon or evening ride so close to a few hundred people’s final resting place.

“Oh thank god you answered.” Your voice is full of panic as you run a hand through your hair while standing in the middle of your kitchen.

“S’everything alright love?” He asks as Mitch walks a bit ahead of him so he can start the process of finding where exactly the man they just took care of is going to go and if he’s going to need to dig multiple holes or not. “What’s got you all worked up?” Harry adjusts the strap of his duffle bag on his shoulder as he hears the sound of pages being turned quite harshly and quickly so he can only assume you’re in the kitchen because when he looks down at his watch on his right hand it’s not even half past five so there’s no way you’re already in bed reading your romance novel you keep tucked away in your nightstand.

Now Harry wouldn’t say he knows exactly what you’re doing at every hour of the day but he would say he has a faint idea of what you could possibly be up to, but he blames that on his job because he can’t exactly not know your whereabouts when he’s out dealing with people in an unsavory way. He needs to at least have a roundabout time frame of when you’re going to be gone at work, or off to the shops with the girls or his favorite is when you go off with his mom and sister for the day because that means he doesn’t have to rush or be worried he will run into you while discarding a body in the woods or a nearby park. The one thing Harry prides himself on is that he won’t ever have to worry about coming home covered in someone else’s blood and scaring the absolute daylights out of you. Since meeting you he refuses to ever even give you the opportunity to accidentally see anything you shouldn’t so he always just showers and takes care of his dirty clothes at a hotel and a dry cleaners he’s been using for years that if you slide them extra cash don’t ask questions about all the odd red stains on his dress shirts.

“I don’t know what to make for my work’s potluck tomorrow and I’m just a bit panicked because you know Regina is going to make those brownies that everyone dies for and I just-I want to make something good.” The words leave your mouth in a rush but Harry is used to your rants, having been married to you for three years but dated you for two before hand, he’s no stranger to you putting these sort of things off till the last minute then getting yourself worked up and stressed over it until you finally cave and ask him for help because that’s the other thing, you won’t ask him for help until you absolutely need to.

Harry looks at Mitch who is eyeing a decent sized area of land that Harry knows for a fact neither of them have hidden anyone else in, so when Mitch looks over at Harry with a raised brow he just holds a finger up making the long haired man let out a sigh as he places his hands on his hips. The thing is Mitch can’t even really get that annoyed with Harry in this situation because he knows how much the man truly loves and adores his wife, he’s seen him put a pause on slicing someone’s throat once just because you called and then there was the time Harry nearly set the whole house on fire instead of just the man’s car they had just paid a visit to because he was distracted by your multiple drunk texts during a girls night out back when the two of you were just dating and wasn’t looking where the lighter fluid was spilling before he lit the match. So this isn’t anything new to Mitch, standing aside and letting Harry take a few minutes to talk to you during a work night, he knows you have no clue what you’re even calling in the middle of and honestly sometimes both men need the distraction of your randomly timed calls or texts.

“Tell me your options baby and I’ll help you pick the one I think your coworkers will like the most.” Harry quickly takes the phone away from his ear and hits the mute button before he hits the speaker button so he will be able to hear you but you won’t be able to hear him. “Think he’ll fit in this spot in one piece?” Harry asks making Mitch take a harder look at the area before looking back at Harry.

“Yeah he’s a small dude he’ll fit here just fine.” Mitch answers making Harry smile because he hates cutting people up it’s way too bloody for his taste and he just got these boots as a random gift from you a few days ago and he’d hate to get them bloodied so soon because Mitch does a lot of things but dismemberment has always been a hard no for him leaving the task to Harry.

“I can do lasagna casserole? Or tuna casserole? People love a good tuna casserole.” Your voice brings Harry’s attention back to you as Mitch drops his bag down and opens it up so he can look for his shovel. Harry unmutes you and puts you off speaker as he brings the phone back up to his ear.

“There’s no such thing as a good tuna casserole my love.” Harry laughs when he hears you let out a scoff and he can practically picture you with your hand on your chest making a dramatic face as if he just insulted you in the worst way imaginable.

“I must’ve called the wrong number because my husband loves my tuna casserole. He’s told me so on several occasions.” You move the hand that was clutching your chest down to your hip as you try to hold back a laugh because you know very well that Harry tells you he loves everything you cook, even when the bottom of the pie is burnt or the rice is overdone he looks at you with a warm smile and tells you how delicious it is.

“I think it’s more so that your husband just loves you sweetheart. That’s all.” He explains making you smile against the phone.

“You really don’t like my tuna casserole?” Your voice is softer now and Harry feels a twinge of guilt hit his chest but he just brushes it off because the truth is always best, or at least in situations like these.

“I’m sorry baby but it’s not my favorite.” He figures avoiding telling you the words he doesn’t like it will help you not be too upset because the last thing he wants to do right now if make you upset when he’s currently in the middle of the woods near a cemetery with his bestfriend digging a grave for a man they have in a trunk of a car. “But the lasagna casserole sounds lovely.” He quickly adds as he drops his duffle bag next to Mitch’s and looks down at the watch on his wrist so he can try to give you a decent estimate on when he’ll be home when you ask, because he knows you’re going to ask eventually.

“Yeah? I’m not sure. I’ve made something similar once and Todd told me it was bland and a bit dry but he just-”

“Todd? Who’s that sweetheart? Haven’t mentioned him before is he new?” Mitch quirks a brow at Harry’s questions because he knows that tone. It’s the one Harry uses when he is trying to cover up the anger that’s starting to simmer deep down inside of him but Mitch just doesn’t understand what would make the man angry over a discussion about casseroles for a company potluck.

“He started in my department last year I think you met him at the Christmas party? Remember he was the one who asked about your tattoos and if-”

“The twat who tried to get you under the mistletoe before I showed up is Todd?” Harry doesn’t mean to let his voice get as loud as it does and he really didn’t mean to let the insult slip out because he knows you don’t like that kind of talk but you just ignore it because you know how your husband gets when you mention people who have been slightly rude to you, especially men. He’s always been a bit protective of you and it’s something you’ve grown to love about him even if it did take some getting used to in the beginning because well, Harry can be very intimidating when he wants to be and sometimes when he’s not even trying.

“That’s what happens when you show up late to things Harry. People try to smooch your wife.” Harry rolls his eyes as he runs his free hand through his hair, he knows you’re joking to try to lighten his mood but he also knows you’re well aware of how slightly possessive he is of you even though he does try his very hardest to keep it under wraps but he doesn’t take things like other people trying to put the moves on you very lightly.

“I just think Todd could do with a few lessons on proper manners that’s all love.” Mitch gives Harry a look as he pauses his digging and Harry just ignores him as turns so he’s facing away from Mitch. “So what’s the verdict hmm? Lasagna or tuna casserole?” He doesn’t want to seem like he’s rushing you but the sooner he’s off the phone with you the sooner the hole gets dug and the body is in the ground the sooner he’s on his way back home to you.

“Lasagna.” You answer as you flip to the page for the recipe in your cookbook. “When will you be home? I miss you.” You ask with a slight pout because Harry was gone when you woke up this morning and only stopped by on his lunch break to see you for a bit before he was rushing off again to go meet Mitch. Harry can’t help but find himself smiling at the sound of your little pouty whine telling him you miss him because he knows that just means you’ll be extra clingy when he gets home and to be honest he quite likes it when you’re in your clingy cuddly mood because it helps him relax after dealing with all the stress of what he’s had to do during the day.

“I’ll be home by the time you’re ready for your evening bath my love so make sure you put in one of those little bubble things I like okay? The one that makes you all soft and smells like vanilla.” He can hear you smile over the phone and it makes him grin, he loves being able to make you smile even when he’s not around. “I’ve got to go now baby but I love you okay? Keep me updated on the casserole and please be careful with the oven? Don’t want you burning yourself.” He says with a smile as he hears you giggle through the phone when he tells you to be careful with the oven.

“I love you too and I’ll send you a photo when it’s done and if you’re good maybe I’ll let you try some when you get home.” Harry laughs and just nods his head and tells you goodbye and that he loves you one more time before hanging up and putting his phone back in his pocket.

“We aren’t killing Todd.” Is all Mitch says as Harry turns around and he just rolls his eyes when he sees Mitch doesn’t even bother looking at him from where he’s at still working on the hole for the man in the trunk. “We have rules Harry. We don’t kill people we know or anyone that people we care about might know.” He adds as if he can hear inside Harry’s mind at how he was about to stupidly ask why they couldn’t just get rid of Todd.

“Every rule has an exception.” Harry argues as he bends down to open his duffle bag so he can grab his shovel and begin helping Mitch dig the hole.

“The answer is still no.” Mitch fires back making Harry suddenly stop digging as he gets a playful smirk on his face causing Mitch to pause his movements and quirk a brow at him.

“You said we can’t kill him.” Harry states mater of factly making Mitch just slowly nod, he already has a feeling he knows where this is going and he’s not going to like it. “But we can beat the shit out of him right?” Mitch can’t help but laugh and shake his head as he looks down at the ground because of course Harry is going to find a loophole, hell Mitch would too if it was his wife that got hit on and told her casserole wasn’t good so he can’t blame him.

“Sure Harry we can beat him up but just make sure you don’t accidentally kill him okay?”

“Oh come on that was one time you’ve got to let it go.”

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 22] || [Chapter 22.5] || [Chapter 24]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ cw: selfish john price, also john price is a hypocrite/liar? Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Their drinks + nicotine of choice is fully INSPIRED by this post by @ceilidho

Chapter 23: Kiss and Tell?

Simon, Kyle and Johnny sat outside the base, in the open air, each one of them engaging in their typical vices.

Simon with a milky breakfast tea and a nicotine patch, Johnny with a vape and an Ultra Blue Monster, Kyle with a weird green tea drink and a cigarette.

It’s way too early in the day for them to be doing that… But they are nonetheless.

They’re just having some downtime, talking to one another, shooting the shit… Not at all waiting for you to wake up and text them back, not at all.

John joins them soon after and sits beside them, carrying a cup of black coffee and one of his usual cigars. He sits down with a groan before kicking his legs up on the ledge of the outdoor table.

“Captain.” The men greet him as he lights his cigarette and grumbles a “Lads” in return.

“A word?” John says as he puffs from his cigarette, wet lips and tongue tasting the brown wrapping as he sucks in the smoke.

That attracts the attention of the other three, all of them glancing over with varying degrees of displayed intrigue.

“I’d like in on your little… agreement.” He says casually while exhaling the smoke and taking a sip of his pisswater-like coffee.

The lads look at each other, almost like silently begging each other to say something.

“Why, Captain?” Kyle ends up asking, leaning forward on his knees to glance at John.

“What Ghost said resonated with me.” He explains. “How I enjoyed my time with them as well.” He says simply.

“Right, but that’s different from datin’ them.” Ghost retorts as he sips from his milk tea, brown eyes locked onto John as if trying to read his intentions. “Can’t just force something that isn’t there.”

“I know that, Simon.” John retorts, his eyes boring into Simon’s harshly, causing a blonde eyebrow to raise in response. “But I wanted to talk with you lot about it before I go on pursuing them.” He explains.

Simon can tell John is hiding something, but he knows better than to address it in front of everyone. He knows Kyle and Johnny trust John blindly, and he doesn’t want to ween them of that with a harsh reality check.

“Well…” Ghost says with a shrug, fingers nudging at the nicotine patch on his shoulders while pretending to stretch his arms a bit. He’s been wearing them as an extra ‘pick me up’ for a decade now. “Not like we’re a… ‘closed’ relationship.” He explains.

“We’re not?” Johnny asks playfully. “Ye’re seein’ more people on the side, L.T.?” Johnny quips with a smirk on his lips while setting his Monster can down and taking a hit from his flavored vape.

“Yeah, you cheating on us?” Kyle jokes with a smirk.

“Oh, piss off, both of ya.” The blond retorts and rolls his eyes, sipping his tea once more, earning some laughs around the table. “Bloody insufferable, you are.” He adds, causing the younger sergeants to nudge each other while murmuring “He’s talking about you.”s to one another.

“What I’m trying to say is,” He tells John as he looks the older man in the eyes. “you shouldn’t be askin’ us about this. It’s all on them if they take you into the fold.” Simon retorts.

“Already did.” John replies, eyebrows raising as he takes another puff of his cigar. “Paid them a visit last night, explained what I felt about your situation, they eased a lot of my worries…” He trails off. He’s mostly saying the truth.

“Helped me realize maybe I was just… feeling left out.” He says. He conveniently forgets to mention he spent half of the night rearranging your guts. They don’t need to know that.

“No way, Captain, ye were jealous?!” Johnny teases and then bursts into laughter, for which Kyle joins him.

“Yeah, yeah, take the piss out of me all you want.” John quips and rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance, but hiding a little satisfied smirk behind the rim of his mug. He’s not going to deny it.

“Well, I’m fine with it… The more the merrier!” Soap says to Price with a chuckle and a wagging of his brows.

After a sip of his green tea drink, Kyle speaks: “Filthy pig.”, earning a nudge on his side. 

“Haud yer wheesht! I weren’t the one balls deep in ‘em last week.” Soap retorts.

John’s attention is turned to the bickering Sergeants, having been unaware of that detail until now.

“I was just being a good friend!” Kyle retorts as he takes a drag of his nearly-burned-through cig. “Was shaggin’em for Simon.”

“Don’t drag me into this… I didn’t ask you to do that.” Simon retorts as he narrows his eyes at Kyle.

“Oh, please, as if your blood didn’t rush ‘down south’ before I even arrived-” Kyle continues his playful tease.

“Right. Ye’re speakin’ as if ye weren’t jerkin’ off the whole time, L.T.” Johnny adds.

“Wait, he was jerkin’ it?” Kyle asks with a gasp as he turns to his right side to glare at Johnny.

“Aye? Ye didn’t see? Ye were there!” Johnny tells Kyle.

“I was occupied, Johnny!” Kyle replies, though he looks like he’s a bit sheepish about saying it aloud.

“That ye were.” Johnny quips with a smirk. Kyle rolls his eyes. “Didn’t peg ye for a shaver.” He adds.

Kyle groans in frustration, even he getting a bit flustered/annoyed by Johnny’s teasing. He looks over at Simon, as if seeking out help only for the blond to say. “Don’t worry, Kyle, it’s good you shave. You’ve got a really pretty cock.”

“That he does.” Price slips in casually as he sips his black tea again, which causes the other men’s eyes to widen as they stare at him like he’s just said something unexpected.

“What? I’ve seen all of you naked.” John shrugs and smirks playfully under his mustache.

That leaves the other men sputtering a bit, exchanging glances, three pairs of eyes trying to wordlessly figure out if the others know that the Captain isn’t just hinting at ‘locker rooms’, ‘showers’ or ‘urinals’ for all three of them… 

Trying to figure out if the others have figured out that all of them have been below the Captain at one point or another in the last decade.

John knows better than to let them figure it out, so he instead changes subjects: “So… when are you planning on making it official with them?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[builtbybrokenbells]

Little Miss Sunshine | JTK

Amidst a night of high emotion, one single confession turns your whole world upside down, making you realize that you had a certain someone misunderstood all along.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 26k (oops)

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f&m receiving), (sort of) face fucking, cum play, rough sex, also sweet sex, katoptronophilia (mirror sex), mentions/phrases pertaining to free use kink, dom/sub, possessiveness, praise, degradation, name calling, impact play, biting, sir kink, mentions of masturbation (f&m), multiple orgasm (m&f), simultaneous orgasm, overstimulation, begging, lots of dirty talk, lots of making out, dry humping, angst, unrequited feelings, feelings of not being good enough/rejection, overthinking, emotional talks, asshole Jake, drunk confessions, arguing, awkward small talk/conversations, fighting, non-sexual name calling, fluff, drinking, smoking, swearing, crying, sorry if i miss any!

heard you guys wanted some grumpy x sunshine love (this is also kind of bordering enemies to lovers) 🤔 also, this picture is EXACTLY what I picture Jake as in this fic. I was gonna wait to post but I was too excited to work on some other stuff coming very soon 😉. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (very lightly edited)

“And then I said to him, try that shit around here, and you’ll see how it works out for you.” The tall blonde man spoke, his tone grating and growing more annoying by the second. He had an irritating smile on his lips as he continued trying his best to impress you with another, mind-numbing story.

“Right,” you nodded, swirling your straw around your drink, trying to sound more interested than you actually were. As you tried to think of something to say, you sucked a sharp breath in through your teeth, letting your eyes dart around the room in search of a familiar face. “I’m sure he kept to himself after that.” You finally replied, trying to up the ante and lessen the impact of your monotone response.

“Yeah, I love messing with the new guys at work. Always keeps them on their toes.” He said, taking a sip of his beer as he looked over your face. As he lowered the bottle from his lips, he seemed to lean even closer than he already was, making you force yourself backwards.

You had no idea how you found yourself in the situation, stuck in conversation with a mediocre man about his mediocre job (which you still weren’t quite sure what it even was) and desperate to find a quick way out. You had come to the stupid party for one reason, and so far, you hadn’t seen him once, despite it being hosted at his own house. As you scanned the crowd for the millionth time, you found yourself growing more impatient than you already were. Your foot tapped against the ground as you checked your watch, wondering if you were already in too deep or if you could slide out the front door without being noticed.

Then, a wave of relief washed over you as you caught sight of a familiar head of brown hair. You threw back the last of your drink, placing the empty cup on the table as you scrambled to refill it with the premixed bottle you brought in your bag. You fumbled with the cap you’d screwed on too tight while listening to the man across from you ramble about an office staff party he’d attended last week, eventually prying it from the top of the juice jug after a moment's struggle. You tipped it forward, filling the solo cup and snatching it off the table after you shoved the jug back in your bag.

You had never seen your best friend's house so full; people were crowding the hallways, nearly standing on top of each other as they tried to force their way into the rooms overflowing with bodies. The music was astonishingly loud, and you definitely weren’t drunk enough to enjoy it yet. Worse than that, you barely recognized a single face in the crowd, and you were desperate to find someone you knew.

“Anyway, it was nice getting to know you, Johnny. I see Sam over there, so I better go say hi.” You forced a blinding smile, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder as you tried to map out the best way around him.

“J-Johnny?” He asked, confusion written all over his face. “My name is Jimmy.” He corrected, his ego bruised at your lack of interest in him.

“Oh, shit.” You swallowed back an awkward laugh, biting down on the inside of your lip as you shuffled to the side. “Jimmy, Johnny… same thing, really. See you around?” You offered, knowing there was no way you would ever allow yourself to be alone with him again, unless you spent days sleepless and were desperate to find something that would lull your mind and force your eyes shut.

You didn’t wait for a response, instead pushing through the crowd as quickly as possible so you didn’t lose sight of your target. With your drink clenched tightly to your chest, you fought your way through the swarm of bodies that seemed keen on blocking the doorway. You extended your arm outward, your fingers brushing over the thin material of Sam’s long sleeved shirt as you grabbed onto his shoulder. His head whipped around, wondering who was touching him and why they were in such a panic to catch his attention. When his eyes landed on you, a blinding smile lit up his face.

“Hey, I was looking for you! Didn’t think you’d make it, Knockout.” He stopped in his tracks, completely changing course and turning towards you. He took a step in your direction, extending his arms outwards and engulfing you in a hug. You breathed a sigh of relief, letting the scent of his familiar cologne wrap you in an embrace warmer than the one his arms provided.

“I’m the guest of honor, ‘course I made it.” You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him slightly. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

“You’re always the guest of honor at my house.” He grinned, letting his hand linger over your back as he looked over your face. You noticed right off the bat that he reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glazed over, soft and dark as his expression spoke loudly of all you needed to know. He was hammered, and you were very late to the party. “And I think knockout is fitting. A ten who will knock me on my ass if I say the wrong thing.”

“I’d like to be equated to more than a ‘ten’ with a bad temper.” You laughed, slouching down slightly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t call it a bad temper… more or less a ‘fuck around and find out’ type of person.” He explained further, pulling you tightly into his side as he began to weave through the crowd.

“Yeah, I guess that fits.” You hummed an agreement, happy that you were safely by his side so you no longer had to wander aimlessly and get caught in conversation with people you didn’t know.

“It’s way more crowded than I thought it would be.” Sam noted, talking loud enough so you could hear him over the boom of voices and music.

“Yeah, I certainly wasn’t expecting this.” You laughed, honest about your feelings on the matter. When he invited you, he failed to mention that he invited the entire city of Nashville to the party alongside you.

“Yeah, guess I overestimated the size of the place.” He chuckled. “We’re hanging out downstairs, less crowded and a bit more comfortable.” He said, leading you around the corner to the stairwell. There were a few people standing in the way of the stairs, but they dispersed pretty quickly when they realized the two of you were trying to make your way through.

Sam was your best friend, and had been for years. You met not long after he moved to the city, when you were still in college and keen to the party lifestyle. Through mutual friends, you found yourself sitting in front of him at an album release party for a band that no longer existed, sharing your sentiments about the mediocre music and your love of tequila. From there, the two of you formed a fast friendship, finding you had more in common than a knack for drinking and appreciation for music. You weren’t expecting such a strong relationship to come from a drunken night orchestrated by friends who couldn’t have cared less about you, but you were incredibly grateful that you decided to go.

Since then, you and Sam did nearly everything together when he wasn’t gone on tour. Once you graduated, you found that you lost contact with most people from your university days, but it never seemed to bother you, because Sam was always around to do that, instead. When you were holed up in your house, working from your laptop and too busy to go anywhere, Sam sat beside you, commenting on anything and everything that came to mind. You guys frequented the bars around town, and got lunch when your schedules permitted. Oftentimes, you found yourself dozing off on his couch after a movie night with no intent of staying the night and waking up the next morning with a blanket over you and a pillow under your head.

He was the best friend you’d ever had, and you were thankful for his love every single day. You loved him so much that you couldn’t even refuse his invitations to parties where you knew nobody but him and his brothers, and most times you were glad you went, just so you had another memory to share with him. That night was no different; he was throwing a party just for the sake of it, inviting friends he’d made in the industry and drinking for the sake of being drunk. When he asked you to come, you gave a hesitant reply, knowing that you were bound to be awkwardly standing amongst a swarm of strangers. Within a few days, he’d convinced you it was alright, and eventually you gave in.

That afternoon, you spent an extra amount of time making yourself look nice. You went out the day before and got your hair touched up, and you even bought a new dress. You were feeling a little down, finding yourself in quite the romantic draught that worsened your loneliness as time went on. When you expressed such feelings to Sam, he seemed to make it a point to set you up with some of his company and promised that tonight would end the embarrassingly long bout of involuntary abstinence. Although you were nervous about his choice of company for you, you opened yourself up to the idea, knowing that you wouldn’t have much luck on your own.

It wasn’t that you were deliberately choosing to abstain from dating, but you were having a particularly hard time finding anyone who met your standards and more importantly, your needs. You were growing sick and tired of modern dating, and despised dating apps and all that came along with them. You weren’t in search of a hookup, and you weren’t looking for marriage tomorrow. You wanted someone who you could have fun with, to get to know without it being overwhelming and too much too fast. You wanted someone suitable for your mid-twenties; exciting, compatible, and loyal. Unfortunately, that seemed to be quite hard to come by.

You knew you had a lot to offer. You were kind, funny, and sometimes too nice for your own good. At the same time, you didn’t put up with any bullshit, which made it incredibly hard to open yourself up to someone. You could easily tell when someone only wanted sex, and people like Johnny (or Jimmy; whatever the hell his name was) made it abundantly clear. His lack of self-awareness and his commitment to getting closer to you despite there being no invitation to do so turned you off of him from the minute he began to speak.

On the other hand, because of your guard being up, oftentimes you read a little too much into the situation and ruined things before they could even begin. You were at an impasse, and such a large one that you enlisted Sam’s help to find you a suitor. You were an overly nice person who’d been burned too many times, and you were (as some would say) picky. You barely trusted his judgment, but you figured that you would at least try and open yourself up to his ideas, because you certainly weren’t getting anywhere by yourself.

“You know, I figured that tonight might be a good night for you and Jake to get to know each other.” Sam stated, nearing the bottom of the stairs.

“Jake?” You asked, confused as you followed behind him. You pulled down the skirt of your tight fitting dress, carefully stepping down on the cool wooden floor as you passed the bottom step. “Like, your brother who’s barely given me any inclination that he knows I exist?” You asked, bewildered that Sam would even suggest that. “And when he does, he looks like he’d rather be with anyone else rather than with me?”

“Oh, come on. That’s not true.” Sam chuckled, turning back to face you now that you were on solid ground. The basement was much less crowded than the upstairs, just like Sam had told you. It was nice, allowing you to actually sort out your thoughts before your head was pulled into another direction.

“It is so!” You laughed, taking his response with a grain of salt. You didn’t have complete certainty that Jake felt that way about you, but he definitely didn’t make it a point to try and be friendly. “I get along so well with Josh and Danny, and then there’s him. He never talks to me, and he basically ignores me when I speak first. When he does answer, it’s like, one or two words, and never any kind of emotion. I don’t think he likes me, and that’s fine, but I definitely don’t think we should ‘get to know each other’.”

“The other day you guys talked about the weather!” Sam argued his point, only making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, the weather, Sam. You know, like the most basic of small talk that exists?”

“He seemed really passionate about the sun.” Sam shrugged, reaching out and placing a hand on your back. “Just give it a shot. You never know, right?”

“Sam, if that’s who you’re trying to set me up with, you’ve officially gone insane.” You muttered, letting him guide you towards the group of people huddled by his large arrangement instruments.

“Not insane, and I mean it, Y/N. I think you guys would really get along if you got past the weather. It’s not that you don’t like each other, you’ve just never tried that hard, and neither has he.”

“Yeah, because I’m pretty sure he hates me!” You whisper-shouted, nearing the chattering crowd.

“That’s a strong word,” Sam said, clearly trying to put an end to the argument. “Besides, I already asked him to talk to you tonight, so I guess there’s no real way out of it.” He shrugged, a sly smile forming on his lips as he began to walk away from you.

“Sam!” You exploded, reaching forward and grabbing his hand to hold him in place. “Why would you do that? Now he’s going to feel pressured into talking to me!”

“Listen, Y/N.” he sighed, his lips still holding a ghost of a smile. “Jake won’t feel pressured into talking to you. If he really doesn’t want to, he won’t. Jake does not hate you, and Jake knows you exist. He’s just not the most outgoing. Once he’s out of his shell, I promise you’ll understand what I mean.” You could tell that Sam was genuine in his response, much different to the lighthearted jokes that he spewed prior. You didn’t want to be the bad guy and tell him that you thought his brother was an asshole, so instead you shifted uncomfortably under his strong gaze and gave a single nod of your head.

If Sam wanted you to try so bad, you would, but only because Sam was your best friend.

In truth, it wasn’t like you never thought of Jake in that way. In fact, you thought about it more often than you cared to admit, but you would have been caught dead before confessing it aloud. Most of the fantasies of Jake were contained within your bedroom walls, in the late hours of the night and earliest hours of the morning, and it had little to do with conversing with him and certainly not anything romantic.

Jake was attractive, and that was undeniable; he drew attention from the crowd the minute he walked in the room, and eyes never strayed from him until the moment he walked out. His long hair and his beautiful brown eyes made for a deadly combination, and the slight rasp to his tone when he spoke low and slow sent a rush of emotion straight to the pit of your stomach. The pinkness of his lips, especially when they glistened after his tongue ran over the bottom one, was delicious, and you were all but ignorant to that. He did not talk often, not nearly as much as his company, but when he did, it was always worth listening to, whether it was a joke or something insightful.

Jake's physical appearance had little to do with your apprehensions. If anything, it made you more willing to try out what Sam was asking of you. Although he’d never been outright mean to you, Jake had solidified his impression in your mind over the years; curt, dry, and a little judgemental. His micro expressions that seemed to go unnoticed by everyone else spoke louder than words to you, and he never seemed like he wanted to interact with you at all. He sat on the opposite side of the room from you, avoided your group-pointed topics and questions, avoided being alone with you at all costs, and got out of every one on one conversation with you as fast as he could.

Oftentimes you felt like he was watching you, studying you so he could find something he didn’t like, so then he could be crude and unapologetic about it. His eyes always seemed to land on you as the nights dragged on, and the drunker he got, the more often he stared, but he never spoke. If he wasn’t so attractive, his actions may have been more off putting than curious to you, but even if you felt like he hated you, you definitely didn’t mind his attention being on you.

He was more gruff than Sam and Josh combined, and his resting expression was not the most inviting. He joked with his brothers, but not you directly. Although, whenever he said something to gain a laugh, his eyes always flickered to you, as if he was looking to see if you thought he was funny, too. He was a mystery, but not one you wanted to solve. Every interaction with him led you to believe he was not a fan of you, and every time you tried to analyze it, you only ever found yourself believing it ran even deeper than that.

Still, he was fucking hot, and you hated yourself for being so attracted to someone who couldn’t care less about you.

You followed behind Sam, your cheeks red as you bargained with your embarrassment over the situation. What did Sam actually say to Jake? Was it as innocent as he framed it, or did it go beyond the minimal information he gave you? You weren’t sure you wanted to know, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to speak to Jake at all. In your years of friendship with Sam and the hundreds of times you had been around him, he had never been nice, and you were fairly certain he wouldn’t start now.

You wanted to believe Sam’s explanation of Jake, that he was just a tough nut to crack and you had never been fully committed to knowing him, but it just didn’t seem to check out. You were sure by now, Jake would have shown some idea that he didn’t mind you, or at least that he didn’t hate you, but there was nothing.

Well, except for one small little thing, but it was so long ago that you were sure he’d long forgotten about it.

“Woah, sorry!” Jake exclaimed as the door swung itself open. He took a step back, recoiling from the scene as if he’d just walked in on something explicit and was trying to avoid the awkwardness.

“No, it’s okay.” You muttered, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath. This interaction was the last thing you wanted to experience in such a state, and you could only look forward to his standoffish nature worsening your already solemn state.

You had changed from your party clothes, the nice new jeans and shirt your sister had bought you for your birthday, which was the whole reason Sam threw you the damn party in the first place. You were in shorts and a t-shirt that hung just above your knees, your face tired and tear-stained as you made a quick move to wipe the dampness from your cheeks. “S’all good, Jake. You can have the bathroom.” You spoke again, a little clearer. The rasp of sadness in your tone was impossible to ignore, and even in his drunken state, he seemed to pick up on it.

You hated your birthday, and you hated that Sam insisted on throwing you a party for it. You wanted to leave, to go home after seeing everyone having such a great time while you were so miserable, but you were too drunk to drive and you would have felt terrible for abandoning Sam when he’d worked so hard to plan this all for you. The gathering was small, filled with people you loved dearly, and drinks were plentiful. Sam went all out with food, decorations, and dessert. You’d never had such an extravagant cake in your life, and you owed him everything for caring about you so much. You were so ashamed of your misery that you felt the need to hide in the bathroom while you cried, just so you didn’t hurt his feelings.

You weren’t sad because of the party, or even because of your birthday in itself. You were upset about the fact that no matter how hard you tried to have fun, something always happened that seemed to ruin the whole day, and this time was no different.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to read the situation. You barely looked up at him, feeling another wave of tears well in your eyes. He smelled so distinctly of whiskey, and his normal tough exterior slackened into something you could almost relate to relaxed.

“Yeah, fine.” You nodded, taking a step towards the doorway and expecting him to recoil when you neared him.

“Clearly not, sweetheart.” The pet name struck you as odd, the confusion growing even worse as he stepped in front of you to stop your attempt at escaping. “You’re crying, up here all alone on your birthday. Talk to me.” You finally looked up to meet his face, noticing your body flood with an unfamiliar feeling. There was a type of care in his face that you had never seen from him before, and it made your entire body raise with goosebumps.

“I… I’m alright, I guess.” You said, trying to find a way around confessing your sorrows to him.

“Can I come in?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, sure.” You breathed, nodding and stepping backwards out of his way. Once he was inside the room, he closed the door quietly, leaning against it as he casted his gaze back in your direction. Now that you were locked in a room with him, the smell of alcohol became all the more apparent, and it seemed to be mixed with a sweet scent of an unfamiliar cologne.

“What’s going on?” He asked, standing stagnant by the door as if he was fearful of coming any closer.

“It’s a long story, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. It’s over now.” You shrugged, raising your hand to your face to wipe your face clean of the sadness.

“Is it that guy you were with last time you were here?” He asked, hitting the nail straight on the head without even trying.

“Uh, yeah.” You nodded, surprised he even cared to notice you had company the last time you were around him. Jake had never been overly concerned with your presence, and you barely expected him to care enough to ask if you were alright. “Got in a fight before I came. Said he didn’t have time to come to my ‘stupid birthday party’ with my ‘stupid friends’.” You air quoted the phrases he used, sickened that you even let yourself spend time with someone who thought so little about the people you loved so dearly. “But he wasn’t too busy to party without me, and certainly didn’t mind locking lips with some other girl at the bar.” You explained, remembering the painful picture one of his friends sent through to you. You appreciated the fact that someone was willing to tell you about it, but it didn’t seem to make it hurt any less.

His lips pressed together tightly, the corners turned down into a frown as he digested the information you threw his way. For a second, he seemed as though he wanted to speak, but not long after that he silenced himself before he could get the words out. He swallowed thickly, toying with the ring on his middle finger as he tried his best to think of a response. Eventually, he took a deep breath and spoke words you never expected to hear from him.

“You are far too special to be caught up on someone like that, Y/N.” His tone was strong, leaving no room for doubt that he meant it. “I know it hurts right now, but you have to know that.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You said, your indifference for him melting away momentarily.

“Is it alright if I hug you?” He asked, carefully scanning your face. “Seems like you need it.”

“O-oh,” you breathed, shocked at his question. “Yeah, s’pose I do.” You let out a nervous chuckle. At that, all hesitation left his body and he stepped towards you. Carefully, he pulled you into his arms, his hold firm and the warmth of his body soothing. You let your head rest on his shoulder, trying to ignore the strangeness of the moment and enjoy the comfort. With your face buried in his button-up shirt, you finally had the chance to breathe in the cologne you had only previously caught a faint hint of. It was deep, woodsy and ambery, and it was unfortunately one of the most pleasant things you’d ever experienced.

You could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong as he held you close to him. One hand rested on the back of your head, an extra touch of warmth within his already strange actions. You had never been so close to Jake before, and for some strange reason, you never wanted to let go of him. From the minute he touched you, things seemed okay again, like nothing in the whole world could hurt you so long as he was right beside you.

Just when you felt yourself slipping out of the state of sadness, he pulled away. You found yourself mourning the loss of his touch, sad for a whole new reason as his body parted from yours. He didn’t completely abandon you, though. He let one hand rest on your arm as he used his other to wipe your tears away from your cheeks. With a soft smile, he spoke again.

“Don’t waste your tears on him, sweetheart. When it starts to hurt a little less, you should thank him for it, ‘cause it means someone as great as you won’t be stuck with someone like him.” He paused, ensuring you understood him before he continued. “Now, put a smile on that pretty face and come back downstairs. It’s your day, your friends are down there, and we want you to have a good night. Don’t let him win.”

You thought that maybe after such a sweet moment shared between the two of you, the dynamic might change, that he would warm up to you and a friendship would blossom. Thinking back on your hopefulness, you wanted to laugh in your own face. If anything, after the bathroom escapade, he grew even more distant. He stopped looking at you as often, avoiding your eyes when you looked his way and refusing to even let a chuckle slip when you spewed a joke. His already curt responses grew even shorter, and even less friendly. All of the affection he shared with you disappeared, and he acted as if it never happened at all.

You were ridiculous for expecting change, but disappointed still when you understood that he probably didn’t remember the interaction between you. He was drunk, and so were you, and it didn’t mean anything.

Still, no matter how hard you tried to believe it, it still fucking sucked.

You did everything in your power to get that side of him to surface again, but it only seemed to worsen his withdrawl. The nicer you were to him, the more he pulled away. So, eventually you stopped completely. You stopped going out of your way to build a relationship with him, because it was abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in it.

Funny thing is, when you started pulling away, he began to try.

A few weeks after you stopped talking, he went out of his way to ask you how you were. He lingered in rooms after everyone left, trying to remain inconspicuous as he waited for you to speak to him. His eyes landed on you more often than not, watching you carefully as you spoke to everyone else, waiting to see if you would laugh at his jokes. It was as if he missed you talking to him, even if he was the reason you distanced yourself in the first place.

He was so confusing, and you knew it was best to stay out of it. Even if you did think he was ridiculously attractive, he clearly had no clue how to express himself or any emotion whatsoever. The only thing you regularly saw from him was undesirable personality traits, indifference and annoyance most often, and anger at other times. You knew it wasn’t good for you, that you should stay away because you couldn’t get involved with someone so cold, and you did the best you could. Still, you would be the first to volunteer to kiss that damned scowl off his face, and happy to let him take his anger out on you.

The fact that Sam ever thought the two of you would work was absolutely blasphemous, but if Sam wanted you to try, you would at least give it another shot. Even if it was half-assed, you could still say you gave it your all, and he’d probably believe you.

Sam took one of the two available seats on the couches, far away from you and next to Josh. You felt a stab of pain in your chest as you realized he did so for a specific reason. The only seat left in the room was next to Jake, and as you began to approach, you feared he might get up and walk away as soon as your ass touched the cushion. Keeping your body rigid, you stepped over Danny’s long legs, extended outwards as he leaned back in the couch. You carefully stood between the two, letting the strap of your bag fall from your shoulder and it landed in front of you on the floor. As you sat down, you tucked the bag neatly behind your legs and against the frame of the couch. You let out a small breath of relief, noticing Jake didn’t change his stature at all as you took a seat.

‘Step one: complete.’ You thought to yourself, sipping at your drink to calm your nerves.

How ridiculous it seemed to consider sitting next to Jake a victory. The irony only grew as you remembered that Sam thought the two of you would make a good couple.

Jake had an acoustic guitar sat in his lap, tentatively plucking at the strings as he sat on the very edge of the cushion. You couldn’t help but stare, finding his face devoid of any negative emotion almost alluring. He was so pretty when he focused, the way his hair hung in his face and his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. You strained to hear the light sounds coming from the strings, trying your best to ignore the booming music upstairs in hopes to recognize the tune he was playing. You watched as the tips of his fingers danced over the fretboard, delicate and calculated in every move they made.

Then, the soft hum stopped and his finger stretched across the fretboard to stop any lingering resonance. Your eyes flickered from his hand to his face, seeing that he was already looking at you. Your cheeks burned red as you understood he noticed your staring, and you swallowed back an awkward laugh.

“Hey, Jake.” You forced the greeting through your teeth, flashing a smile in his direction in hopes that the sweetness would deter his usual grumpiness with you.

“Hi.” He responded, his eyes trailing down to the solo cup in your hand. His greeting was short, but you counted it as a victory. Some nights, he never bothered to reciprocate at all, shooting you a pained look instead. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to do or what to say. It was uncomfortable, but you forced the negative thoughts from your head and tried your best to think of a conversation starter. When it was clear he would not be the one to initiate, you spoke again.

“What song was that?”

“Who’ll Stop The Rain.” He replied, his stony expression remaining strong as he looked in your direction.

“CCR,” you nodded, embarrassed you couldn’t pick out the tune from memory. “My dad was a big fan of John Fogerty. Used to put us to sleep with the recordings from Royal Albert Hall.”

“Yeah, pretty good stuff.” Jake nodded, slow and stiff as if he would rather be anywhere other than with you. You took in a long breath through your nose, hoping that you could ease the painful tension between the two of you, but knowing it wouldn’t never happen unless he was willing to try, too.

“Yeah, absolutely.” You nodded too, taking a long sip from your cup.

“What’s your favourite song from them?” He asked, the words almost sounding strained as he asked the question. You fought back an eye roll, thinking it was absolutely ridiculous that he was troubled just to speak to you.

“Green River.” You answered, trying to be more enthusiastic than he was. You were happy he asked the question at all, considering it was probably the first thing he’d ever asked in attempt to get to know you, but his reluctance still stung.

“I like that one, too.” He said, his tone gruff but more friendly than it had ever been (save for the off night in the bathroom), even if the classification was a stretch. Then, he turned his head back towards the guitar, cutting the conversation short. You couldn’t help but feel a dissatisfaction with his actions, wondering why he couldn’t even pretend to enjoy a conversation with you, but you didn’t let it linger for too long.

You let out a sigh, turning your head to the other side of you, seeing Daniel’s smiling face. It was refreshing, and it was a relief to see his expression did not fade as soon as he looked your way. His arm was slung over the back of the couch behind you, his ankles crossed and a beer bottle clutched tightly in his hand. You figured he was an easier target, and a much more enjoyable way to spend your time.

“Hello, Daniel.” You gave him a warm smile as you spoke.

“Was wondering when you’d get here, K.O.” He said, flashing you a toothy smile to match your own.

“What did I tell you guys about calling me that!” You scolded, your tone light and your eyes shining with joy to tell him you didn’t really care all that much.

“If the shoe fits.” He shrugged, chuckling as he took a sip from his bottle. “What have you been up to? Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I was away for a little while for work, actually.” You said, knowing you couldn’t get too much into it.

“You were away? That’s never good to hear.” He said, a slight grimace on his face. He was right; in social work, time spent away from your office usually meant something bad.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t anything major. They have a shortage of people a few towns over, so I volunteered to fill in for a little while until they could hire someone. I handled a few cases, but it was mostly just to do some paperwork so they didn’t get overwhelmed. I got back a few days ago.”

“You’re a saint for doing a job like that, you know.” He said, his words genuine and prompting a smile on your lips.

“It’s not the easiest job, but I like it.” You explained. “Someone has to stick up for the kids, you know? If their own parents aren’t doing it… then someone has to.”

You could not see it, but Jake’s head was turned as he sat behind you, his ear facing you so he could hear the words you were saying.

“You must be pretty good at it, too. I remember when Sam and I stopped by your office, it was plastered with drawings and colouring pages. Do you keep everything they give to you?”

“Yeah, I do.” You looked down at your hands as a sheepish smile crossed your face. “They always get so excited when they see it up on the walls, so it makes it worth it. Besides, brightens up my day when I see it, too.” You explained, knowing that you had never really thought twice about it; everything any of your clients gifted you was important to you and deserved a spot up on your bulletin board.

Alongside from Sam, your work was the most important thing to you. It was a part of you, and the only reason you and Sam got along so well is because he understood that. Lots of plans were cancelled or rescheduled at the drop of a dime, but he never cared and never made you feel bad about it. Sometimes, you were up at four in the morning, running out the door to the hospital in the early stages of your friendship, but it never deterred him from spending time with you. When you moved to a private company, things grew a little more relaxed and you had a lot more scheduled appointments rather than emergency appointments, but Sam would have stuck around no matter your situation.

“I mean, today someone gave me a yo-yo.” You said, a grin lighting up your face. “I’ve always wanted an excuse to learn those stupid tricks everyone knew how to do in middle school, and now I can.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see that.” Danny let out a laugh, his shoulders shaking and his eyes crinkled with joy just at the thought of it.

“So what about you? What have you been up to?” You asked, growing tired of talking about you and eager to hear what he’d been up to.

“The same old, really. I went home and visited my family for a few days, so that was nice.” He said, knocking back the last of his drink and grabbing another from the box by his feet.

“That is nice!” You exclaimed, a warm smile encasing your lips. “I know you don’t get to see them all that often, so it must have been really good to go home.”

“It was,” he agreed, nodding at the thought.

“How’s your sister doing? I know she was stressed out about the last semester of school the last time we talked.”

“Good! She passed with no problem, worried about nothing as per usual.” He responded, almost wowed by how much attention you paid to him when he spoke.

“And that girl you were talking to… Sarah?” You asked, nervous you might have gotten the name wrong. He gave a nod, reassuring you that you got it right. “How’s that going?”

“Good! She couldn’t make it tonight, but I think it’s headed somewhere. Hopefully, at least.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was less important to him than it was.

“I’m sure it will. I’m happy for you.” You smiled. Just as he was about to respond, Sam shouted his name from across the table, pulling him in a completely different direction. You didn’t pay much mind to it, settling comfortably back in your seat as Sam resumed an earlier conversation with the boy beside you.

You settled back into your seat, finding yourself content without feeling the need to be caught in conversation. You sipped at your drink, noticing your cheeks begin to turn rosy as the tipsiness started to set in. Your skin was warm, your mind swimming with thoughts that pertained to nothing important. You tucked your foot underneath your knee, relaxing into the position as Sam gave you a reassuring smile across the table. You gave him a small wave in return, finding the mixed drink in your cup taste better the longer you worked at it.

Some time passed, but nothing too interesting ensued. No further words were shared between you and Jake, but you did occasionally find yourself talking across the table with Sam, and a few times you were leaned over close to Danny to hear him over the chattering crowd and loud music. Then, something incredibly familiar reached your ears, the sound soothing as it drifted from the guitar in Jake’s lap and over towards you. The twang was different, a little more calm as he played on the acoustic, but it was still just as good.

Green River.

You turned your head towards him, smiling as you watched his fingers pluck the strings. You bit your tongue, tempted to sing along but knowing it likely wouldn’t help the lingering tension between you and the boy. Your gaze flickered to his face, curious to see his expression as he played the song you very clearly expressed your enjoyment of. To your surprise, he was looking at you, and the usual scowl on his face had softened into an almost smile.

He wanted to know if you liked it, almost excited at the prospect of impressing you with the song.

Perhaps Sam was right, and you hadn’t tried hard enough to get to know him. You weren’t committed enough to getting through the tough exterior, because in that moment, you saw a tiny glimpse of the Jake you saw that night in the bathroom. His eyes were warm, glimmering with curiousity as he continued to strum the tune. Maybe he wasn’t so against knowing you, but rather needed some common ground so he could get his footing.

No matter the reasoning, you could go along with it, because without the cold undertones in his expression, he was a million times more attractive than he’d ever been before. The liquor in your cup was strong, definitely encouraging your thoughts about his pretty face, but as he played a song you remembered from the happiest days of your childhood, it struck something within you that he’d never touched before.

“Sing it.” Jake encouraged, his voice just loud enough for you to hear as he played the intro a second time through. You thought you misheard him, unable to believe he was really initiating such a fun moment that involved both of you, together. Even as you tried to discredit it, his eyes told you otherwise, imploring you to do as he asked.

“Well, take me back down where cool water flow,” you began, knowing your intoxication had everything to do with your courage. You worried that he would change his mind, or regret asking you to do so, but as you finished he played the little riff that followed, a genuine smile beginning to blossom on his lips.

“Let me remember things I love, Lord

Stoppin' at the log where catfish bite

Walkin' along the river road at night

Barefoot girls dancin' in the moonlight.” You sang the verse, growing more comfortable when Sam joined in along the way. By the time you finished the last line, Danny was leaned in close behind you, also belting the lyrics alongside you.

Then, the most shocking part of it all came about when Jake led you back into the second verse. He joined in, happily singing along with the three of you as if it were a completely normal thing for him to do.

“Fuck yeah, Jake!” You exclaimed, seeing his eyes brighten at your drunken cheer. For a single moment, things felt normal. They felt right, with you cheering him on and him trying not to laugh at your antics, like it was meant to be that way all along.

Maybe Sam was right, and the two of you could click well, even after all the time spent ignoring each other.

He led himself into a small guitar solo, seemingly trying to show off as he slammed the pick down on the strings. You clapped along, a blinding smile lighting up your face as you watched him do what he loved most. You couldn’t help but admire how stunning he looked, his pink lips slightly damp from his tongue running over them while he focused. The blush of his cheeks under the lowlight, and his dark lashes casting the tiniest of shadows under his eyes. He was beautiful, and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from him.

You were so immersed in his enigmatic nature that you failed to sing along with the group when the third verse rounded. Stunned and slightly nervous that someone had caught you amidst the impromptu staring contest, you cleared your throat and joined in with the singing, only slightly less enthusiastic. When the song finished, you were breathless and in a mess of jumbled thoughts, but it had nothing to do with the singing you were doing. Before Jake could say anything to you, you downed the last of your drink, reaching into your bag to refill the cup. You knew you would need the courage, especially now that the relationship between you seemed to hit a pivotal moment.

When you straightened back up in your seat, you sipped from the rim of the cup to lower your chances of spilling it all over yourself. Your eyes flickered to the man beside you, but to your dismay, he wasn’t looking at you at all. The smile faded from your lips as you quickly tried to cover up your growing disappointment, wondering if you were an idiot for thinking the two of you might be more comfortable speaking. You waited for a moment, just to see if he would initiate something, but you were met with nothing once again.

You were an idiot, and for more reason than just that. You were ridiculous for believing that he would be interested with you, in all of his blinding beauty and amidst the rockstar lifestyle. He had girls falling at his feet, prettier and with more to offer than you had. You were breaking your own heart by entertaining the feeble idea Sam planted in your mind, and you needed to realize the truth of the matter.

Still, a small fizzle of hope existed within your chest, and you thought you would give it one last shot.

“That was really good, Jake. Thank you for playing it for me.” You said, keeping your tone sweet and the look in your eyes warm despite the blossoming uncertainty in your stomach.

“What? I didn’t play it for you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth at the speed of light, defensive and with little thought put into them. As if he saw the breaking of your heart before his own eyes, he softened slightly, realizing that his words were too harsh, even for his normal brooding self. “I played it for myself, too. I love that song.” He added, hoping that it would lessen the blow. You could tell he only said it to feel like less of an asshole, and it only worsened your already bruised feelings.

You could feel an unfamiliar feeling rising in your chest, one that craved conflict. You thought that if you handed his rudeness back to him, he’d learn his lesson and realize how terrible he’d been to you over the years of knowing him. You wanted a fight, to figure out the real reason behind his dislike for your company, and you needed it now. If he hated you, you wanted him to come clean and say it. You were sick of trying to start a friendship with someone who only ever made you feel like shit about it.

Then, before the accusations could leave your lips, he spoke again, but you would have preferred him not to say anything at all.

“Heard it’s supposed to be really nice out, tomorrow.” He forced the weather forecast through his teeth, rubbing salt into an already lethal wound.

“Perfect,” your lips pulled together tightly, forcing some semblance of a smile as you nodded your head. “You know, we don’t have to talk about the weather every fucking time we speak, Jake.” He seemed to physically recoil from your nasty tone, seemingly never expecting something even slightly vicious to leave your tongue.

“Okay, what else would you like to talk about, Y/N?” He asked, a hint of condescension in his words. You rolled your eyes, long past furious with his blatant rejection of your presence.

“Maybe one of the fifteen other topics I’ve tried to talk about with you?” You offered the alternative like it never crossed his mind at all. “You know what? Nevermind. Doesn’t matter.” You shook your head, understanding you were preparing to fight a losing battle. When it came to anything negative, Jake was always going to come out on top.

“What, did Little Miss Sunshine finally hit her breaking point? Is this the first time you’ve ever been angry, sweetheart? ‘Cause it wouldn’t fuckin’ surprise me.”

“Fuck off, Jake.” You huffed, leaning forward and grabbing your bag from between your legs. “Like I said, fucking forget about it.”

Just as you did so, Danny leaned towards you in an instinctive reaction to someone playfully pushing him by the arm of the couch. His shoulder collided with your back, causing you to lurch towards Jake and at the same time, your full solo cup to slip from your fingers. As you tried to recover from the strong (and irritatingly painful) collision between your back and Danny’s shoulder, you barely noticed the liquid that had spilled from your hands onto the couch, and unluckily, Jake’s leg.

Before you could process all that happened in such a short time, you heard Danny’s profuse apologies from over your shoulder, but not well over the boom of Jake’s voice.

“Christ, Y/N!” He exclaimed, raising the guitar from his lap as he made a move to stand. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Watch what you’re fucking doing, next time!”

His words, equal to a million stabs in the chest, seemed to snap that little rational part of your brain you tried to desperately hold on to when in his company. Instead of an angry outburst, you felt tears well in your eyes, finally fed up with his irrationally irate attitude towards you. You tried to muster an ‘I’m sorry’, but every time the words began to make their way through your throat, your muscles constricted around them. Instead, you grabbed your things, in a hurry to get out of there and never come back. Before you were on your feet, tears spilled over on your cheeks, and your face felt like it was on fire. Your heart was thumping so fast and hard you could feel it in every part of your body, and your throat ached to cry out.

Why didn’t he like you?

What did you do to deserve such miserable treatment?

Why couldn’t he just pretend to tolerate you, instead of making it blatantly obvious to everyone how much he hated you?

You clutched your empty cup and your bag tightly to your chest as you stepped over Danny’s legs, your vision blurred with tears you refused to let Jake see as you rushed away from the group. By the time you made it to the stairs, you knew you would be alright, so long as you didn’t come face to face with him again. You clambered to the top of the stairwell, pushing through bodies in search of the front door. You were desperate for air, just for a breath of relief to help you forget about his venomous tone. When your fingers clasped around the doorknob, you instantly felt better. You pulled it open, stepping foot into the yard and away from the chaos.

The porch was near vacant aside from the couple engaging in a handsy makeout session a few feet away, but not even they seemed to notice you. You pulled the skirt of your dress down as you stepped forward, crouching down until your ass hit the wooden step. You released your hold on the short dress, stretching your legs out as you adjusted to a more comfortable position on the stair. You let your hand run through your hair, your fingers catching on knots as you combed through the mess of loose curls. You let out a shaky sigh, wiping the tears away from your cheeks as you let your eyes flutter closed.

You wouldn’t let him get the best of you, even though it was so easy for him to do it. You were better than his short fuse and lack of regard for your feelings, and you wouldn’t feed into the fire he created. As much as you wanted to yell, to call him out on his ridiculous behavior, it wasn’t you. You weren’t angry; you were bubbly, happy and outgoing, and you adored making new friends. You were a social worker who loved children because of their unusual glee despite being in horrible situations. You loved it so much, because that’s who you were. You loved being happy, the light shining in darkness even when you should be miserable and sad. You liked being that beacon of light for others, and you made it a point to remember small details so nobody ever felt forgotten.

You were kind hearted and free spirited, and you loved to love. You wouldn’t let him take that away from you, in all of his gruff grumpiness and dark brooding eyes. You were human, and everyone likes to be liked, but you didn’t care anymore. If he wanted to dislike you, that was fine, because you loved being you and you didn’t care to change for anyone. If he didn’t like your behavior, your desperation to see the best in everything and your constantly joyus nature, he was the one losing, not you. You wouldn’t bend your own boundaries to make someone like him happy.

The door creaking open behind you pulled you from your thoughts, making you peek over your shoulder to investigate the disturbance. You were met with a sight for sore eyes, the pure chaos of the moment putting a smile on your face despite your own internal struggles. Sam was stumbling towards you, his eyes heavy and glossy as he clutched a beer bottle tight in his hand. He was positively hammered, and you could tell with every step he took.

His stare landed on you, like he was a predator in search of prey. His hand holding the bottle raised, his index finger straightening and pointed in your direction. “Was looking for you, knockout. You’re fast.”

“You’re drunk, Sam.”

“Pshh,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He took a few unsteady steps towards you, placing his hand against the railing to steady himself as he sat down beside you.

“I love you, you know.” You smiled, hugging your knees to your chest as you rested your chin atop of them.

“I love you, Y/N.” He slurred, the smell of alcohol radiating from him. In some strange way, drunken Sam had always secretly been your favorite, mostly because of his unapologetic nature when it came to the tellings of his heart. “You’re the best friend ever, you know. Like the best. Couldn’t imagine life without you.” He rambled, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. “You’re always so sweet and kind, and you make the best cookies, and you come to my stupid parties and talk to my stupid brother, even when you don’t want to. There’s nothing wrong with you, Princess. Don’t listen to him, ‘cause he’s stupid.” He reiterated the same sentiment, causing a small giggle to fall from your lips.

“F’course I show up to your parties, Sammy.” You whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. He smelled familiar, giving you a sense of home you couldn’t find anywhere else. “Wouldn’t imagine life any other way.”

“And everyone loves you, Y/N. Josh, and Danny, and even Jake. ‘Specially Jake.” He hiccuped, smiling at the thought. The apples of his rosy cheeks were so soft in the moonlight, the sight heartwarming and forcing a smile onto your cheeks, too.

“No, I don’t think he does, Sammy boy, and that’s okay.” You whispered, gazing up at the stars and living in the sweetness of this moment rather than the bitterness of the one you shared with Jake.

“No, don’t think you get it, Princess.” He chuckled, his head toppling over onto yours as he heaved a large breath. He was caught in a nasty bout of hiccups, and his movements were all sloppy and loose. You were beginning to realize he was much more intoxicated than even you perceived him to be, and you were going to have to get him inside and to bed soon. “I can’t tell you, cause he wouldn’t like that, but he likes you, Y/N, wholeee hell of a lot.” He put the extra emphasis on the words to ensure you took him seriously. You laughed at his words, his oxymoronic statement, and the tone in which he said it.

“Sure, Sam.” You chuckled, pulling away from him slightly. You immediately missed the comfort of his touch, but you knew it was for the best. “Why don’t we get you upstairs, honey? Maybe a glass of water?”

“You think?” He asked, squinting at the porch light as he turned to look at you. His expression was challenging, but you both knew you’d win the fight.

“I know, Sam.” You gave him a soft smile. “Come with me?”

“Okay.” He huffed, nodding in agreement. “You’re staying tonight, right? Don’t want you… driving home…” there was a lull in his tone, and you noticed his eyes drooping lower the longer he spoke. “Jake’s an idiot, want you to stay, even if you’re mad at him… please?”

“Of course I’ll stay, love.” You promised, rising to your feet after ensuring you had a firm grip on his arm. “Come on, stand up for me.” You urged, pulling him only slightly from his sitting position.

“Kay,” he let out a shallow sigh, helping you only slightly as you pulled him to his feet. As soon as he was standing, he stumbled forward into you, and you wrapped your arms around him to keep him upright.

“Easy, honey.” You hummed, only slightly intimidated under his body weight.

‘You’ve got this. Get him upstairs and into bed. You can do it.’ You repeated to yourself, carefully moving your grip so you had one arm securely around his torso.

“Come on, Sammy. Help me out here.” You pleaded, taking a step towards the door. He seemed to be growing more tired by the second, and you worried that you would not be able to support his weight if he grew any more lax in your arms. He stumbled forward, uttering nonsense about his love for you as you desperately tried to get him to the door. You figured if you at least got him inside, someone would be around to help you out with the rest.

You felt your legs quivering under his and your own weight, but you managed a few more steps forward until you were just shy of reaching the doorknob. As you ushered him forward, you reached a shaky hand out for the door, only to find someone else already opening it for you. You looked upwards, relief flooding your features until your gaze landed on the body in the doorway.

“Let me help.” Jake grumbled, stepping forward to join the two of you.

“It’s fine, Jacob. I’ve got it.” You snapped, taking another step forward.

“Clearly not, sweetheart. Quit being so fucking stubborn.” He argued, taking post at Sam’s other side as he guided his arm over his shoulder.

“Jake!” Sam exclaimed, a lazy smile crossing his face as he recognized his brother's familiar face. “Y/N, this is my idiot brother Jake. Have you met before?” Sam looked in your direction, sending you a lazy smile and a sloppy wink. You stifled a giggle as you tightened your hold around him.

“Hey, brother. Let’s get you to bed.” He chuckled, anchoring his own arm around Sam’s back alongside yours.

Deciding it was for the best, you let Jake help you with the daunting task. Together, the journey was much less treacherous, and you had him upstairs in no time. In Sam’s bedroom, you and Jake eased your hold on him as he sat down in his bed, his eyes threatening closed as he slumped down onto the mattress.

“I’ve got it from here, thanks.” You snipped, brushing past Jake to grab a trash can, just in case Sam started to feel sick.

“He’s my brother, Y/N. I can take care of him.” He shot back, fixing the pillows so Sam could lay down.

“We’ll he’s my best friend, and I’m not fucking leaving him.” You huffed, helping Sam lay down on his side so he would not fall asleep on his back.

“Guess you’ll just have to deal with it, then, cause I’m staying too.” He rolled his eyes, plopping down on an armchair in the corner of the room.

“Great.” You muttered, fixing the blankets as Sam fought with the buttons on his shirt. “You okay, honey? I can help.” You offered, noticing his particularly annoyed expression as he couldn’t complete the task he’d set out to do. “Can you get him some water, Jacob?” You asked, a little more curt than you intended, but neglecting to feel remorseful about it.

“Why don’t you go, and I’ll get him out of his shirt?” Jake offered, malice fleeing him temporarily in hopes the arrangement might be more comfortable for you.

“Fine.” You sighed, stepping away from the bed and back into the hallway. A quick trip downstairs and one bottle of water later, you were back at Sam’s bedside, trying to get him to sip away at a hydrating alternative to the beer he was drinking all night.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam relaxed against the mattress and melted into the pillows. Carefully, you reached out and brushed his hair from his face, gathering it in your hands as you slipped an elastic around it from your wrist. You couldn’t help but smile as he began to softly snore, a sure sign he was out for the night.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Jake said, his tone strong and startling you as you pulled your eyes away from Sam.

“For what?”

“For caring so much about him.” He shrugged, showing you a glimpse of himself as he professed his gratitude. “He’s my brother. Means a lot to me that you love him so much.”

“Don’t need to thank me for it.” You shrugged. “Hard not to. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” The two of you fell into a silence for a moment, the tension in the air thick and uncomfortable. You wondered if he would apologize, rectify the harsh words he’d thrown your way, or if maybe tonight would be the night he finally confessed how much he hated you. Or, maybe it was neither of those things, and the night would take the worst turn of all; the two of you sitting there, caring for a drunken Sam in awkward silence and sharing occasional words. Perhaps you could even talk about the weather.

“So when are you two gonna tie the knot?” Jake asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you carefully.

“What?” You asked, looking over at him with confusion written all over.

“Everybody’s thinking it. We’re just waiting for you to get on with it.” He said, his gaze never leaving your face, almost as if he was challenging you.

“I don’t like Sam like that, Jake. He doesn’t feel that way about me, either.” You were firm with your response, ensuring he understood that.

“Right.” He whispered, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch. Your eyebrows furrowed, curious about his words but unsure if you even cared enough to ask. You turned back to Sam, running a gentle hand over his arm as he slept soundly. As you did so, you could feel Jake’s eyes burning into you, making you shift uncomfortably in your position. Eventually, it became too much to ignore, and your head turned towards him again.

“What is your problem?” You asked, stronger than you intended.

“Nothing,” he defended himself, his lips turned down into a frown. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

“Why would you want to?” You rolled your eyes, looking away from his face. You found it much harder to stay angry with him when you couldn’t stop thinking about how attractive he was. He opted not to respond to the topic at hand, but instead moved back to a previous one.

“Why don’t you and Sam get together?”

“Jesus, what does it matter?” You asked, answering his questions with more. You weren’t keen on discussing your romantic relationships with a man who barely cared enough to notice your presence in a room, and you definitely weren’t willing to discuss your relationship with Sam with him.

“You wanted me to talk, so I’m talking!” He argued, keeping his voice hushed so he would not wake his brother.

“Yeah, I wanted you to talk three years ago, Jake.” You laughed, shaking your head as you did so, but the situation was not funny to you. You couldn’t believe him, and he continually managed to surprise you with his offputting comments and his vague remarks. “I wanted to know you, but you’ve made enough of an impression already, and that ship has sailed.”

“I’m talking now, Y/N.” He tried again, his voice softer but still seemed standoffish.

“I don’t want you to, Jake.” You clarified, realizing you’d rather sit in silence or talk about the sunny skies, now. “I don’t care. I used to get upset because all you wanted to talk about was the weather, but I get that it is the only thing we have in common.” You stood, knowing you needed to take a step away from the situation before you exploded.

He was so good at getting under your skin, so different and so irritating. He ignored every one of your attempts at getting to know him, and you were over it. He didn’t get to be an asshole for so long and then suddenly change his mind about it, like he got to call the shots. The ball was in your court, and you weren’t willing to give him the time of day anymore.

“Wait,” he pleaded, holding his hand out to stop you from walking out on him. Ignoring his plea, you pushed past him, stepping towards the door with no intent on stopping. “Y/N, please.” He stood, reaching out to grab your arm so you could not leave.

“What, Jake?” You snapped, turning on your heel to face him. “Unless you’re going to tell me what your issue is, I have no interest in talking to you about anything.” There was a fire in his eyes unfamiliar to you, so different than the pained, distant expression he often adorned when looking in your direction.

“My issue is you!” He said, never dropping his hold on your wrist. It wasn’t tight, far from painful, but it was exhilarating. His skin on yours felt fantastic, even if he was an asshole.

“See? Was it that hard to finally fucking say it?” You fumed. “Just say you hate me, Jake. It’ll be so much easier for both of us!”

“It is hard, because I don’t hate you!” He confessed, taking you by complete surprise. “I couldn’t hate you, ever. Trust me when I say, I’ve fucking tried!”

“You don’t?” You asked, your knitting together in confusion. “Then what is your issue with me?”

“I don’t have an issue with you, Y/N. It’s me. It’s my problem.”

“Tell me Jake, please. I’ve spent so long wondering what I did to make you not like me, and I need to know.” You pleaded, your anger dissipating as you realized you finally might get an answer to the one question that constantly plagued you.

“Can we… Can we go somewhere else? Please?” Jake sighed, looking over his shoulder at his sleeping brother.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, stepping backwards and out of the room. He stayed close to you, ensuring Sam was alright before he closed the door behind him.

You led him down the hallway, turning into the guest bedroom that had become your very own. You stepped inside first, staying near the door as he walked in behind you. He knocked the door shut as he passed it, the music still booming downstairs and the crowd still plentiful despite the night changing into the early morning hours. You turned to face the boy, finding him already looking at you. His gaze was uncomfortable, especially knowing that there was so much unsaid between the two of you.

“So, what is it, Jake?” You asked, your arms loosely crossed over your chest as you tried to hide yourself under his stare. Now that the two of you were alone, your skimpy dress felt all the smaller, and you were self conscious knowing his eyes were drinking in every detail.

“I’ll tell you, but I need you to answer me first. Is there anything going on between you and Sam?” He asked, his palms pressed together and his fingers extended outwards, pointing towards you as he spoke.

“No, Jake. Not that it’s your business, but Sam and I are just friends; it’s always been that way, and it always will be.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You stressed the point. “Why does this have anything to do with you not liking me?”

“It has everything to do with it, because I do like you!” He exploded, the sudden shift taking you by surprise. You recoiled at the strength of his words, watching him in shock for a moment.

“What are you angry about?” You asked, unable to piece together his erratic behaviour. His head fell back on his shoulders, a groan leaving his lips as he struggled to speak. It seemed as if his thoughts were plaguing him and he wanted to do anything other than confess them.

“I do like you, sunshine, and a lot more than you think.” He explained, drawing in a long breath and stepping towards you. “I like you too much, and I am a fucking idiot for treating you so badly, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Talk to me, Jake. Tell me what’s wrong, and we can work it out, together.” You pleaded, a shred of sympathy for the man taking hold despite all of your anger.

“See? That’s why, because after three years of me being a dick, you’re still trying to be nice to me!” He exclaimed, appalled at your concern and constant attempts to help fix things. “You should be yelling, or calling me names, or walking away, but you’re not.” He stressed the fact, hoping you understood what he meant.

“Is that what you want me to do?” You asked, confused by his response.

“No, I don’t want—“ he cut himself off, realizing how harsh and condescending the words sounded. “I love you, Y/N, and that’s why I can’t fucking talk to you, because I know I shouldn’t!” You were stunned, taken back by his bold confession and unsure how to respond to it. Your eyes widened, your lips parted as you breathed in his bare honesty hanging in the air. “I’ve spent three years falling for you, and it fucking kills me, but I can’t get you out of my head. Your perfect smile, and that cute little laugh, and the fact you care about everyone and everything, no matter what. You take care of all of us, all of the time. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you are way out of my league.”

You were so shocked at his confession that you forgot to breathe for a moment, and the fact he thought you were out of his league was laughable. You were in such a state that you didn’t think your actions through before responding, and an actual laugh fell from your lips. As soon as the sound reached your ears, your hand instinctively raised and clamped over your mouth, horrified that you made the sound in the first place. A flash of hurt crossed his face, the small expression telling you he regretted speaking at all. The laugh cut deep, but he was misunderstanding the intent behind it.

“You know what? Never mind. Pretend I never said anything at all.” He muttered, stepping towards the door.

“No, Jake.” You stepped forward, this time to stop him from leaving. “I’m not laughing at you.” You promised, your cool hand landing on his noticeably warm biceps. The soft fabric of his shirt felt good on your fingers, and an unfamiliar feeling blossomed in the pit of your stomach. “It’s just… I spent so long thinking you hated me. It’s a lot to take in. You have to understand that.” His eyes flickered back to you, then down to your hand on his arm. There was no longer any malice in his face, the softness of his features all the more alluring now that his defences were down. “Just… work with me, please?”

“Okay.” He whispered, turning back towards you slowly.

“I just… I think that you believing I’m out of your league is funny, because it couldn’t be further from the truth.” You explained, your voice quiet. The two of you were closer than you’d ever been, the heat of his body radiating from him. The sweet, intoxicating smell of his cologne you remembered so fondly from the night in the bathroom hit you with full force, skewing every one of your morals the longer you breathed it in. The drunken, desperate part of you was almost willing to forgo any tough conversation and have your way with him then and there, but you managed to stave off the urge for a little longer. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why would I, Y/N?” He asked, frustrated by the thought, but much more calm now that he understood your feelings a bit better. “Why would I try to pursue you, when we both know that I’m no good for you?”

“No good for me?” You asked, inching closer to him in hopes you wouldn’t have to give up the contact with him.

“Yeah,” he nearly scoffed the word. “No good for you. Think about it, sweetheart. You are a ray of sunshine, all of the time. You light up a room wherever you go, and everyone falls in love with you without even trying. You’re a social worker, for gods sake. You’re so good that you help people for a living, with no benefit to yourself. You remember the small details, you never make anyone feel left out or forgotten. You’re good, and I’m not. I treated you like shit for three years because I couldn’t let myself drag you down with me. I didn’t want to do that to you, but I had to.”

“What are you talking about, Jake? You wouldn’t be dragging me down at all.” You wished he would hear how ridiculous his words sounded, but he was stubborn, and you knew that for a fact.

“I’m miserable. I’m mean, and I’m snarky when I don’t even want to be. I’ve got a temper, and I say things I shouldn’t. You don’t deserve someone like that. You deserve someone who’s just as happy as you are, who puts out just as much good in the world. You’re waking up at three in the morning to go to the hospital and help out a family in need, and I’m just passing out drunk on someone’s couch. You help people, and I hurt people, even when I don’t want to. You don’t deserve that, Y/N, and I can’t do that to you. I bit my tongue because I wanted you to fall in love with someone who could make you happy.” He explained, his drunken ramblings tugging at your heartstrings.

“Jake,” you whispered, your hand tightening on his arm to pull his attention towards you. Now that he started, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking. All that he held back for so long was finally surfacing, and it didn’t seem to want to slow.

“I wanted you to fall in love with Sam, because you two are great for each other. It would have sucked, but I know that you deserve someone who can love you like that. I hate myself for pushing you so far away, but I had to, for you. I didn’t want you to get involved with me, because you are too bright and shiny, and I’m a little bit broken. I don’t know how to love, I’m not good at it, and you should be with someone who can give you the world.”

“Hey.” You said, firm as you dropped your hold on his arm. You reached up, taking his cheeks between your hands and forcing him to look at you. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to choose who is good for me and who isn’t, Jacob.” You said, swallowing hard as his brown eyes seemed to be staring into your soul. “You’re not broken, and you’re not bad, Jake. I’ve seen it before, and I’m seeing it right now. You have a big heart, and you care so much, even if you aren’t the best at showing it.” You breathed, looking over his face. Your heart was beating fast, your chest a mess of emotions you’d never quite felt before in your life. You were angry, confused, but also incredibly happy to finally hear the truth coming from his lips. You were oddly attracted to him in the moment, and you finally felt like the two of you were on the same page.

“I don’t like Sam that way, because I’m not looking for someone bright and shiny. I’m looking for someone who makes me feel something, and you do, and you always have. Why do you think I’m still trying so hard? After this long, I still want to be around you, and I still want to talk to you. I like being bright and shiny, and I like helping people. That’s who I am, and I can’t change that, but there’s nothing wrong with you, Jake. You said you’re ‘bad’, but how could you be? You spent three years putting me before you, because you didn’t want to hurt me.” You explained, begging for him to see reason. “What you just said to me, about how you feel… Jake, nobody’s ever said anything like that before. Nobody’s ever cared like that before.”

“I do care, and I definitely don’t hate you. I had to push you away, because every time I see you, I want to tell you how badly I need you. I tried so hard to get over you, but I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” At that, his hands raised to your hips, drawing you closer to him as he spoke.

“I’m not asking you to, Jake.” You said, your head spinning from the feeling of his hands on you. It felt so good, so unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Your hands were still on his cheeks, his face unbearably close to your own. After hearing everything he had to say, it made sense. All of the staring, his avoidance of being alone with you, the sweet moment in the bathroom. “I like you, in all of your grumpiness. I think you’re funny, and smart, and you are incredibly talented. I like that you play songs for me on the guitar, even if you don’t want to admit it, and I love that you love me so selflessly. You don’t get to decide if you’re no good for me, and you don’t get to force me to fall in love with someone else, because right now, I’m quite interested in knowing what it’s like to love you.”

“You can’t just say stuff like that, sweetheart.” He warned, his tone gravelly as his heart began to beat solely for you, for the moment you were sharing.

“I’m not just saying it. I mean it. After all this time, I’m still here, listening to everything you have to say.”

“I did play that song for you. I wanted to see you smile.” He confessed, almost pained at how badly he needed to see the joy written over your face. “I wanted to hear you sing it. I wanted you to sit next to me. I want it all, Y/N, all of the god damn time. I want you, but I don’t know how to do it right.”

“We can work on that part, because I want you too, Jake. I can’t walk away from you after you said all of that, because I don’t think I’ll every find anyone else quite like you. I don’t care if you’re grumpy, and I don’t care if you have a hard time showing how you feel. You’re not broken, and you’re not bad for me.” You felt your lips upturn into a small smile, noticing the blush of his cheeks and all of the small details you never had the chance to admire.

There was a splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose, like a constellation gracing his tanned skin. His brown eyes were even more breathtaking up close, and the fullness of his lips were more tempting than they’d ever been. You wanted to lean forward, to taste the sweetness he’d been withholding from you. The stony expression you’d grown so used to finally melted away, and you could see why he always adorned it while around you. Now that his cover was blown, the mask was gone, and he was looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

He was still hesitant, nervous about tainting the perfection you carried around with you. He didn’t want to dim your light, and he didn’t want to hurt you anymore.

“Stop pushing me away, Jacob. I don’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else.” You whispered. “I don’t want to walk away and forever wonder what it would feel like to love you. I can’t keep replaying ‘what if’s’ in my head for the rest of my life, and I don’t want that for you, either.”

“I’m not good at this stuff, sweetheart.”

“We’ll never know if we don’t try.” You offered, gravity pulling your face closer to his. Your nose was brushing his own, the smell of whiskey on his breath apparent and inviting. You weren’t sure what he was doing to you, but you’d never been so overcome with emotion in your entire life. “I don’t need someone bright and shiny, Jake. I need someone that balances me out. I need you.” His grip on your hips tightened, the breath catching in his throat at the three little words he’d been longing to hear since he first laid eyes on you.

“You mean it?” He asked, raising one eyebrow in inquiry as he ensured you were certain about everything you said. He didn’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it, realizing you drank too much and that he was too much.

“I mean it, Jake. I need you.” You stressed your point, desperate for him to close the gap between your mouths and finally give you the satisfaction of kissing him. Many nights you spent awake in bed, angry about his behavior and unbelievably turned on at how much you liked it. You hated yourself for being attracted to his behavior, but now that it made sense, you didn’t need to feel that way ever again. All the shame was gone, dissolving into one, unbearable, undying need for him.

The two of you clicked, better than anyone else ever had before. Even when you were arguing, short with each other and trying your best to stay away, there was always something. Whether it be a lingering stare, an accidental touch, or a sweet moment when you least expected it, he never failed to capture your attention and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away. He was infuriating, but you always seemed to come back for more, unable to refute his beauty and unable to resist the urge to know him. You couldn’t stand the idea of him disliking you, because you so badly wanted him to feel the same way about you. You wanted him to be caught up on you, curious about you and desperate to know more. You wanted him to be drawn to you in the same way, and you couldn’t handle him pushing you aside because your interest in him was driving you crazy.

“Say it one more time?” He asked, his lips just barely brushing over your own as he spoke.

“Please, Jake. I need you to kiss me.” You repeated, stronger than the last. Before the last word fully left your mouth, his lips were on yours and he was pulling you into him by your hips.

With your body pressed against his own, you felt all of the tension between the two of you finally subside. His lips were locked with yours, finally getting the satisfaction he’d been craving for so long. Your hands held his face, the touch tender and telling of your enjoyment. The tips of your fingers were tangled in the strands of his hair, the soft chestnut locks twisted around your fingers in a way you only ever imagined they would be. The taste of him on your tongue was addicting, even more so as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, begging you to let him take it further. You parted your lips for him, feeling his tongue quickly take advantage of the opportunity you had given him.

He tasted as sweet as you imagined he would, the warm remnants of whiskey he was drinking still lingering on him. He was addicting, intoxicating, and he was driving you insane without even trying. His hands on your hips were rough but gentle all the same, holding you tightly but cautious as if he thought he might break you. For the first time in your life, you were overtaken by greed, completely blind to anything other than your desire for him. The heat of his body as he held you to him, how perfect the two of you felt pressed together, was better than anything you’d ever felt in your entire life. His heart was beating hard against his chest, in time with yours as the two of you melted into one, cohesive mess for each other.

You let a moan slip out into his mouth, unable to hide your enjoyment for the moment. You felt his fingers tighten on you as he drank in the sound, surviving off of the sweet noise and locking it up in his heart for safe keeping. He pulled away from you, breathless with stars dancing in his eyes as he looked down at your face. His lips were swollen, the slight pout that so often made an appearance was nowhere to be found. He looked stunning, and you couldn’t believe he felt such a way about you.

“Hard for me to behave myself when you sound like that.” He huffed, his pupils growing large as he continued to study your expression.

“Who said you had to behave?” You asked, a sparkle of mischief shining in your eyes.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, your words hitting him harder than you thought they would.

He reached down, his hands landing on the back of your thighs as he lifted you in one swift motion. You locked your arms around his neck, your stomach twisting with excitement as you wrapped your legs around him. As he pressed his lips to yours again, he took a step forward. You were so immersed in the feeling of kissing him that you barely registered the chill that ran through you as he pressed your back up against the wall. With his newfound leverage, he pressed himself further into you, your hips meeting his as he kissed you. The intensity of the moment grew tenfold, especially with the new position.

The burning sensation in the pit of your stomach had prompted an ache between your legs that was becoming harder to ignore the longer he kissed you. Your dress had ridden up your thighs, resting just below your hips now. You quickly understood that you were not the only one with a growing problem, and you could feel his own desperation as your clothed cunt met with his cock through his pants. You could feel his entire length against you, and as much as you loved the feeling of kissing him, it made it incredibly hard to think about anything else.

His strong hands held your thighs, never letting you believe he’d drop you. He had you pinned against the wall, leaving no room for you to escape, and you were happy with it; there was nothing in the world that could stop you now, especially after feeling the euphoric affect of his touch. He was overwhelming entirely, but in the best possible way. You couldn’t even manage to form a coherent thought about anything other than the way he was making you feel, and you were eager to explore the possibilities the night held.

You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, allowing yourself to fully embrace how good he was making you feel with such a small amount of effort. His hands felt like they were burning into your skin, the touch melting into you, and his chest pressed against yours felt right. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, filling your senses every time you had a chance to catch your breath. Both of your lips were slippery, slick with saliva as he continued to kiss you, making even more of a mess. His lax attitude made it all the better, showing you that he was completely comfortable no matter how far you wanted to take it.

Perhaps the most pressing thought of all was how perfectly his hips met yours, and how badly you needed to feel it with less clothing in the way.

“Jake,” you breathed, parting from him as you rested your forehead against his.

“Could listen to you say my name like that for the rest of my fucking life.” He muttered, his tone gravelly and his gruffness making a return. This time, instead of irritating you, it sent a wave of pleasure straight through you. In an instant, you understood that his strong personality extended far beyond the realm of casual conversation, and you were eager to see it in action in a whole new way.

“I want you, baby.” You said, the words falling from your lips in a whimper. The need for him completely overtook you, in a way you almost didn’t believe possible. An hour ago, you were furious with him, convinced that he hated you and wanted nothing to do with you. Now, you were digesting the fact that no touch had ever felt so good, and you would do anything to be under him, just for a night. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want, beautiful.” He said, looking over your face with a fire in his eye that you ignited. It felt good to be looked at in such a way, like the whole world turned just for you. “Tell me everything.” He ordered, willing to comply with every one of your wishes, but wanting you to give him every one of the details.

“I want it all, Jake. I want you.” You explained, feeling his hips push forward. The pressure of his cock against your aching clit gave you a hint of relief, but it wasn’t enough. “I want you to make me feel good. I want you to touch me.” You pleaded.

“What else, gorgeous?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your jaw. You let your head fall back against the wall, giving him access to any part of you he wanted. His lips placed kisses along your jawline as he awaited an answer, sloppy as he began and growing even more so as he continued down to your neck.

“I want you to fuck me, Jake.” You confessed, free of any shame over the fact. “I need you to fuck me.” You corrected yourself, your desire pulsing under your skin as his tongue traced over the artery in your neck. He could feel your heartbeat on the tip of his tongue, your very life source offered to him on a silver platter. He pressed his lips to the pulse point, drinking in the desperation in your tone as he suctioned his lips around the very spot. Your eyes fluttered closed as he applied the slightest bit of pressure, focusing his attention there for a moment until he pulled away.

His eyes raked over the sight, the skin pink and irritated from his lips and darkening by the second. A perfect circular mark to remind you of him with every beat of your heart.

“I guess even a perfect little thing like you has some secrets to hide.” He rasped, his pupils consuming his irises as lust worked to craze him. “Tell me how you want me, angel, and I’ll give it to you.” You watched him carefully, your cheeks flushed and your skin hot. Your nipples were hard, pressed against his chest as he spoke to you. Every time he moved, the friction sent another rush of arousal straight to your core. Your skin was tingling, your excitement reaching every nerve ending and sending goosebumps prickling over your skin. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you, sweetheart.” He spoke again, trying to pry the dirty confession from you.

You had thought about it many times, but one thing you never seemed to consider was that in every fantasy, you got off from the simple idea of him doing whatever he wanted to you. Now, after experiencing touch from his hands, you felt that way more than ever before. No matter what he did to you, you knew you were bound to enjoy it.

“That’s it, beautiful? You want me to fuck you however I want?”

“Yes,” you nodded, excited just at the prospect. You looked over his face, piecing together every bit of information you knew about him. He was blunt, honest, and he liked to be in control. You couldn’t imagine sex with him being any other way than that, and you were eager to please him. If it was something as simple as that, you had no issue giving him the chance. “I just want to make you feel good, baby.”

The words seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain as he processed them. His hands tightened on you, his cock pushing forward into your cunt even further and his breath caught in his throat. He studied you for a moment, quiet and concentrated as he tried his best to figure you out. After a moment, his lips upturned into a devious smirk.

“Have you thought about me like this before, sweetheart?” He hummed, smug as he asked you the invasive question. Your cheeks burned red, your heart beating faster than normal as you quickly tried to find a cover up for the truth. Then, you realized you didn’t really care at all. You had thought about him in that way, and you had no reason to be embarrassed about it at all.

“I have.” You gave a slight nod, confirming his suspicion.

“And you got off to that? The thought of being my little fuck toy?” He pressed further, his intent to get you to admit to the dirty little fantasy. Although you wouldn’t have worded it quite the same as he did, the sentiment was the same, and you did get off on that thought alone. “Don’t be shy now, baby.” He said, his fingers snaking up the skirt of your dress.

“I did,” you whispered, biting down on the inside of your lip as you waited for him to respond.

“And you’ve been keeping that to yourself all this time?” He asked, his nose brushing against your jaw as his lips ghosted over your neck again. You squirmed under his touch, the feeling of his hot breath on your skin driving you insane. The tips of his fingers found your hips, settling just below the elastic waistband of your underwear.

He was going to be the death of you, and you were certain of that.

“Let me get this straight, angel.” He contined, pressing a delicate kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. A breathy wine pushed past your lips, your entire body ablaze with desire and desperate for him to do something other than tease you. “Did you like it when I was mean to you?” His words were soft, carefully treading the topic as he continued to gently rock his hips against your own. The dry friction was enough to keep you sane, but nowhere near what you needed. He took your silence as enough of an answer, smiling against you as you contined to try and move your hips further down on him. “Never would have guessed that Little Miss Sunshine likes to be treated like a whore.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to press your thighs together to get a bit of friction. So strung out on desire, you didn’t even realize that all it was doing was pulling him further in to you.

“I bet that pretty cunt is such a mess for me, isn’t it?” He asked, pulling you away from the wall and stepping towards the bed. His hands were on your ass, firmly holding you so you did not have to fear him dropping you.

His cockiness was infuriating in any other context, but in the moment it was sending you feral. You were a shell of who you were earlier that night, the only thing fuelling you was your lust for the man below you. You were desperate, willing to do anything to have him, and finally coming to terms with the fact that your secret fantasies about him had nothing on real life.

“Answer me.” He growled, his fingers tightening on you as he drew your attention back to his question.

“Fuck yes, Jake.” You rushed out, feeling guilty for leaving him hanging.

“You want me to take care of that ache between your legs? Make you feel all better?” He asked, his eyes flickering to your face.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, meeting his gaze with doe eyes that seemed to drive him crazy. With that, he dropped you down on the mattress, the impact lessened by the springs bouncing you back upwards.

“You want me to take care of you, we do this my way.” He said, now gazing down at you with a slight sneer on his face. “Sound good to you, angel?” You nodded, never daring to look away from him. “First off, you refer to me as sir.” He waited until you processed the information before speaking again. “You answer when spoken to.” He added.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded. A small smirk turned his lips at the sound of your response.

“And the last one,” he crouched down, eye level with you to ensure you understood the importance of his rule. “Don’t ever, under any circumstance, be afraid to tell me to stop.” At that, a smile turned your lips, and he reached up to cup your face. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his thumb drifting over your cheek.

“As for me, I’m going to enjoy this no matter how it goes, so tonight’s an apology for how poorly I treated you.”

“It’s okay, Jake.” You assured him, feeling slightly sad that he felt the need to settle the score. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“I want to, ‘cause you deserve so much more than that.”

“Okay.” You breathed, nodding against his gentle hold. His thumb drifted downwards, caressing the smooth skin on your face until it landed over your bottom lip. He traced the outline, taking a moment to admire you and appreciate all he had. As he did so, you placed a kiss to the pad of his thumb, feeling an unfamiliar tug in your heart that did not match the energy the rest of the night held.

For some reason, in that moment, things finally began to sink in for you, and you finally saw him for all he was. He wasn’t just some angry man who was unjust and cruel. He was a person, with feelings that plagued him every day, feelings for you. He chose to push you away not because it would do any good for him, but because he wanted what was best for you. From that alone, you could see that he cared for you far beyond what anyone else ever had. In some strange, twisted turn of events, you could physically feel the pull of emotion in your chest, the blossoming feelings for Jake and all he was, including his pessimistic and avoidant attitude.

This was what was meant for the two of you. Not the fighting, or the avoidance, but this; a blatant and unashamed attempt to show each other how you felt. The whole time, he only wanted to love you, and you only ever wanted him to like you. You had no idea why you wanted him to like you so bad until the sweet words began to fall from his lips, and now you understood that you had always wanted him to be the one to say such things to you.

He was a mystery that you promised yourself you wouldn’t solve, but that’s exactly what you’d been trying to do all along. You started every conversation with the intent of turning it deeper, and you left empty handed and heartbroken because you always felt like there should have been something more between you. If you didn’t truly believe so, you would have quit a long time ago.

Instead of dwelling on the past, you allowed yourself to live in the moment. The rough pad of his thumb still rested on the delicate skin of your lips, and you did the only logical thing that was running through your mind; you parted your lips ever so slightly, pulling the digit into your mouth and letting it rest on your tongue. You suctioned your cheeks around it ever so slightly, your eyes fluttering up to meet his as you did so. His expression was deadly, his eyes focused on you as his jaw clenched and the familiar muscle in his jaw flexed. Slowly, you moved your head back, his thumb sliding from your lips and falling from your mouth with a faint popping sound.

A low groan rattled his chest, his eyes fluttering closed as his head fell towards the ground. You watched him, eyes never leaving him so you could soak up every bit of his energy. “You trying to fucking kill me, sweetheart?” He asked, the rhetoric meant to go unanswered as his hands landed on your hips.

He pulled your near the edge of the bed, settling himself on his knees before you as his hand grabbed the fabric of your dress. He bunched the material in his fists, sliding it upwards with help from you as you lifted your ass from the mattress. When the bottom of the skirt landed near your navel, he dipped his fingers underneath the elastic of your underwear, using the opportunity to pull them down your thighs before you returned to your earlier position.

With your ass resting on the edge of the bed and your lower half bare, he couldn’t seem to control himself any longer. This was a moment he thought about often, but never truly believed he would experience.

“Do you know how often I thought about you like this?” He asked, his fingers roughly guiding your leg over his shoulder. The sudden action knocked the breath straight from your lungs, causing you to clench around nothing just from the thought of what he would do to you. “How many times I wanted to bring you up here and have you all to myself?”

“I thought about it too.” You breathed, your stare locked in on his face as his eyes scanned the sight before him. He leaned forward, his lips brushing over the soft skin of your inner thigh. Carefully, he sucked a trail of marks all the way up to the top of your thigh, determined to ensure you would remember the moment long after it passed. You reached down, brushing the long locks of brown hair away from his face so you could see the whole sight with nothing standing in the way. “I thought about it all of the fucking time.” You let out a shallow breath, watching as his mouth turned inwards towards your cunt.

Your stomach twisted into knots as you watched his tongue dart over his bottom lip, the anticipation killing you the longer he withheld his tongue from you. Without any further words, he leaned forward, unable to wait any longer and let his tongue connect with your core. Starting at your entrance, he let his tongue flatten against you, slowly moving it upwards through your folds until it landed on your clit. He took in a sharp breath before moving his tongue downwards and repeating the action for a second time. When his tongue settled over your clit again, he moved away just for a moment.

“You taste so fucking good, angel.” He rasped, his fingers tightening on your hips as he savored the taste of your arousal on his tongue. It was even better, knowing that he was the reason behind it. “Just as sweet as I thought you would be.”

A pathetic little whine fell from your lips, your face burning and your heart pounding in your chest as he lowered his mouth on you again. This time, his tongue went straight to your clit, his actions full of intent. As soon as his tongue began to trace over the sensitive bundle of nerves, your entire body began to tremble. You tangled your hands in his hair, a shaky breath leaving your lips as he focused his full attention there for a moment.

It has been too long since you had sex, and everything he did felt so good. You were a mess for him before he ever took your clothes off, and you knew it wouldn’t take long before he had you exactly where he wanted you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your head falling back on your shoulders as he worked at you, drinking up every drop of arousal you had to offer. His tongue felt so soft, warm and wet against you, making every movement all the more fantastic.

The power he held over you was nearly incomprehensible. Never in your life had another person affected you so badly and deeply, in everything that he did. Every lingering glance, slight smile and even the roll of his eyes, he had you hanging off it and asking for more. Even when you thought he despised you, you couldn’t shake the temptation to reach out and try again, because even a miserable interaction with Jake was better than nothing at all. You were a fool to think that the same emotions wouldn’t carry over into sex, but with his mouth on you, working you up to an orgasm, you realized that there was nobody in the world quite like him.

He was snide, sharp-tongued and quick witted. He was an enigma, catching attention no matter where he was or what he was doing. You were so convinced he hated you because it was easier to believe than anything else; even then, with his hands on your hips and his mouth on your cunt, you could hardly believe Jake Kiszka was interested in you at all. To know he spent so long hung up on you, thinking he wasn’t good enough for you was nearly painful to imagine. He was everything, even when he wasn’t saying anything at all. He was the whole world, and it felt like you were just living in it, which was why it was so hard to exist without any type of relationship with him. You wanted Jake to know you, to like you, to think of you in the same way you thought of him when you had a moment to yourself.

He let out a hum against you, the vibration running through your whole body and furthering the waves of pleasure already washing over you. You let out a sharp moan, your fingers tightening around the locks of his hair. You laid back on the bed, careful so not as to disturb him while he worked. The new position gave you a bit more control over the motion of your hips, and a lot more pleasure. He took advantage of your new position, pulling your ass off the bed and closer to him so he did not have to lean so far forward.

He groaned against you, completely overtaken with desire and unable to hide his enjoyment as your hips moved against his tongue to meet his time. The fire in the pit of your stomach was growing at a rapid rate, taking over your entire body and causing your mind to jumble with thoughts of nothingness. You needed it more than you ever needed anything in your entire life, and he was quite aware of that as you bucked your hips forward despite his tight hold. He was encouraging you further with every flick of his tongue, and just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he reached between your legs and added his middle and index finger to you.

Your hips jerked upwards in reaction to the curl of his fingers, which hit against the sensitive spot inside you every time he pumped them into you. You could feel him smirking against you, cocky and rightfully so as he realized how good he was making you feel.

“Oh, fuck.” You whined, your eyes squeezed shut as a particularly intense wave of euphoria took hold. Your abdomen was tense, just the same as your limbs. You felt like if you moved an inch, you would lose the pleasure he was so kindly granting you. “Jake, m’gonna cum.” You warned, feeling the sensation in the pit of your stomach grow stronger, snowballing as it spread across your skin.

He continued to pump his fingers in time with the movements, pushing you closer to the edge by the second. You pulled your leg casted over his shoulders inwards towards you, drawing him in further as he worked at you with intent. You could feel a sheen layer of sweat forming on your skin, glistening under the moonlight through the window to illuminate the sin you were engaging in. The obscenity of the display the two of you found yourselves in was a picture that would be framed in your minds forever, the memory of the event seeping into the walls and remaining there forevermore. You wouldn’t be able to rid the memory from your brain even if you wanted to, and that was okay by you, because Jake was the best that you had ever had.

With one last curl of his fingers, he sent you over the edge, the knot in your belly tightening and snapping under the pressure. Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him in further as his tongue traced over your clit. You cried out for him, pleading for more and less all at the same time, pleading for mercy you knew he would not give. Your hands in his hair were pushing him away and pulling him closer all the same, and you had never felt so strung out on pleasure in your entire life.

“Oh, god.” You whined, your thighs squeezing around his head as he confined to work you through the climax. His hands on your hips, bruising the delicate skin made your heart beat only for him in that moment, living just from the generosity he was granting you and thankful to be his.

When your body relaxed against the bed, he slowed his movements, eventually pulling away from you. Although you were grateful that he didn’t push you to the point of overstimulation, you immediately missed the feeling of his tongue, grieving the loss as if it were something catastrophic.

To you, it was.

He slowly rose to his feet, his hand swiping your arousal from his chin before they dropped to his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it and throwing it to the floor. You looked up at him, in awe of his blinding beauty and unable to process anything further than that. He unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops in one swift motion and tossing it to the floor.

“Get up.” He ordered, his usual expression taking over his face again, but this time it seemed even more ethereal. You did as he asked, rising from the bed and to your feet. “M’sorry, angel. Been waiting so fucking long. I need to feel you.” He said, kicking his pants and his boxers to the side to join the rest of his clothes on the floor. He stepped towards you, your eyes trained on his body as you tried to sear the sight into memory forever. He was stunning, more than you ever thought he could be, and seeing all of him only made you realize how lucky you were.

His hands snaked under your dress, pulling the tight material over your head and tossing it to the floor. Now that you were fully naked, he took full advantage of the fact and let his hands wander over you as he pulled you in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the feeling sending you feral as the pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple. You wanted to tell him he didn’t need to apologize for anything, that you needed him inside of you just as bad as he did. As your hands roamed his bare torso, you understood you didn’t have to say a word because he could feel how badly you wanted him.

He guided you to the edge of the mattress, taking a seat in front of the vanity Sam had placed at the end of the bed. He sat first, keeping his hands on your hips as he guided you towards him. With a smile, you placed your knees on either side of him, keeping a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Wish you could see yourself like this.” He muttered, his head craned upwards to meet your gaze as he lined himself with your entrance. The feeling of him against you was fantastic, only growing more so as he ran his tip your arousal. He bright his cock forward, guiding himself so he could slide over your clit. Your hips moved downwards in reaction to the feeling, in search of more. The pressure of him resting against you increased, only worsening your growing need for him. “Come here, gorgeous.” He muttered, carefully guiding your hips backwards. You felt him slide through your folds again, the sensation something so different than anything you’d felt before. When he settled by your entrance again, he couldn’t wait any longer to pull you down on him.

You both let out an audible sigh of relief as he pushed inside of you, the feeling of him filling you so fantastic that you needed to take a moment to appreciate it. You weren’t used to his size, but the stretch of your walls as he pulled your hips down to meet his was fantastic.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered, his nose brushing yours as your forehead rested against his own. “Feel even better than I imagined.” He confessed, his hands trailing up your torso and tickling your skin. You began to move your hips, starting with a slow pace while you both grew comfortable with each other.

You weren’t sure why, but the thought of him imagining the two of you in such a way was enough to get you off all by itself. It affected you so much, you couldn’t help but bring it up with him.

“Yeah?” You hummed, maintaining a slow roll of your hips against him. The ends of your hair tickled the skin of your back, tangling with his fingers as he held your chest to his. “You thought about me like this? Just like this?” You continued, adding a little extra force to your hips as you came down on him.

“All of the time, Y/N.” He said, one hand reaching around you and landing on your ass. His fingers tightened against you, his palm settling directly on the curve of your ass. “Thought about how good that pretty little cunt would feel wrapped around me every fucking night.” He confessed, leaning forward and capturing you in a kiss. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down with just enough force to cause your hips to stutter while they moved against him. “Takes everything in me not to take you upstairs and fuck you every time I see you.”

“I thought about you too.” You whined, your eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the feeling of him inside of you. You were without shame anymore, knowing that the two of you were finally on the same page. He thought about you just as much as you thought about him, he wanted it just as bad as you did, and you felt no need to hide it from him.

“Yeah?” He asked, thrilled at the sound of your words despite already knowing as much. His hand on your ass was guiding you down further every time you moved your hips, adding just a little more pressure to the already overwhelming sensation. “Did you play with yourself while you thought of me, angel?” He asked, his lips hovering over your ear as he spoke. The low tone sent a shiver down your spine, and his warm breath on your skin sent goosebumps rising across your entire body. Your hand on his shoulder tightened, but you did not confirm or deny the fact. “Come on, don’t be shy.” He coerced you to answer, leaning forward and gently pulling your earlobe between his teeth. “Want to know all of your dirty little secrets, beautiful.”

“I-I did,” you stuttered, clenching around him ever so slightly. He was impossible to resist and denying him the truth seemed more painful than confessing.

“So I was the one keeping you up at night?” He asked, a little breathless as he spoke as if the idea sent him spiraling. “My name on your lips as you imagined it was me touching you instead? And I wasn’t even there to hear how fucking desperate you were.” He said the second part with a hint of disappointment, as if he was grieving the loss without ever knowing he missed out. “You’re breaking my heart, angel.” He muttered, pushing your hair away from your neck as he pressed a kiss atop the darkening marks he’d already left behind.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, unsure why you were apologizing but doing so because you were terrified he might stop. He was silent for a moment, his tongue grazing your skin. The saltiness on the tip of his tongue seemed to drive him mad, his stature rigid and his chest heaving with every breath.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart.” He said, ignoring your apologies as his eyes focused on the mirror in front of him. He felt selfish being the only one who could appreciate the view of the scene you found yourselves in.

You slowed your movements, pulling away from him as you complied with his request without hesitation. Slowly, you got to your feet, turning around so you were facing the large vanity mirror as well. He reached out, his hands landing on your hips as he guided you back towards him. You placed your legs on either side of him, feeling him reach between your bodies to line himself back up with you. Once he knew you were comfortable, he pulled your upper half towards him, your back pressed against his chest as he slowly lowered your hips onto him.

“Want you to see how pretty you look when I fill you.” He muttered, pulling you down until he filled up you completely. A shaky breath left your lips as the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot, the sight almost too much for you to handle. He reached up, brushing your hair from your shoulders and pulling it all to one side. He draped it over one side of you, his chin nestling on the opposite shoulder as you began to move against him again.

With the new position, you could see everything. The furrow of his brow as he bargained with the pleasure of feeling you, his clenched jaw as he tried to keep himself calm, and more importantly, you could see him fucking into you, every time your hips raised and sank back down on him. It was almost too much to take, the sight so obscene yet so beautiful all at once. His hand snaked between your legs, his middle finger resting over your clit as he began to trace slow circles around it. Your legs trembled as you tried to keep a steady pace, the burning in your belly reaching a new level as you watched his lust-crazed eyes, never daring to look away from you.

“This is what you fantasized about, sweetheart?” He asked, making you understand the real reason he switched the position. He wanted you to remember, to know exactly what it looked like as he fucked you, so you had something to think about the next time your mind wandered when you were alone.

“Yes, sir.” You whimpered, your entire body ablaze with emotion. You’d never felt so good, and you’d never felt so alive. Sex with Jake was phenomenal, something so filthy that it only existed in the darkest depths of your mind, even when he wasn’t doing much at all. The closeness was enough to drive you insane, and the pleasure was enough to put you in the grave. His stern demeanor was infuriating outside of the bedroom, but seemed to further his charm as soon as his clothes were off.

“Want you to think about it every time you play with that pretty pussy.” He growled, his hips raising off the bed to meet yours in a moment of high emotion. You let out a muffled yelp, biting down on your lip to silence the sound as it passed through you. “If that’s still not enough, you just let me know. I’ll be happy to take care of her, whenever you need me.” He assured you, his teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder. The miniscule pain from the action only furthered the knot tightening in your belly. You needed to let go, to show him how good he was making you feel. You needed it more than anything you’d ever needed in your life. The pressure of his jaw slackened, and you felt his tongue gently trace the skin his teeth had marked, soothing the slight irritation he left behind.

A moan fell from your lips, loud and telling of the surplus of pleasure coursing through your body. His finger continued to trace your clit, relentless and unapologetic as he tried to pry another orgasm from you. It was becoming harder to focus, the sensation quickly turning into the only thing you could think about. You watched his face in the mirror, studying the beauty of the man below you. He was concentrated, certain of what he wanted and unwilling to stop until he got it. As you contined to watch him, you understood that his eyes were no longer trained to your face, and instead his gaze had fallen downward, settled on the exact spot where the two of you met. Your stomach burned as you realized he was watching himself fuck into you, the simple idea pushing you just a little closer to the edge.

“You going to cum for me again, angel?” He asked, his tone sickly sweet as if you had a choice in the matter. He wasn’t going to stop until you did, and the question only served as a catalyst in his ever growing ego problem.

Perhaps you were the real catalyst in the equation, because you seemed to lack any self control when it came to him, and you wouldn’t dare deny him of a single wish.

“Yes, sir.” You groaned, your eyes closing and your head falling towards the floor. You felt like you had no control over your body, your movements only made to further the pleasure he was already giving you. It was necessity rather than want; you were tired, but you couldn’t fathom stopping. You wanted to exist in the moment for the rest of your life, never letting him go and never worrying about anything else.

“Look at me.” He growled, his hand raising to your face. He clamped your cheeks between his fingers, forcing your head back upwards to face the mirror. Your body was overtaken with euphoria by the harshness of his actions, the feeling of his hand tightly holding your face adding the extra little bit of pleasure needed to send you over the edge. “Watch how good you look when you cum for me.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your movements stuttering as the sensation became too much to withstand.

“That’s it,” he rasped, continuing to hold your head in place. “That’s my fucking girl.” The possessive claim sent you spiraling, the term too much to bear in combination with everything else he was doing to you.

Your walls squeezed around him, pulling him in further and locking him there as your second orgasm washed over you. He raised his hips off the bed, continuing the same pace as your body froze in place. His finger on your clit never faltered, ensuring that you got the most out of the orgasm. He continued to whisper the sweet nothings in your ear, praising you for the show you were putting on as profanities fell from your lips. Your cheeks were red, your face hot as the sensation infiltrated every nerve in your body. Your eyes remained locked on the two of you, soaking in every detail as he worked you through the climax, admiring him as he remained so tentative as you unravelled around him.

Before the pleasure fully subsided, you could feel him shift underneath you. His finger moved from your clit, instead his hand holding your hips as he began to stand. He held you as he stood, guiding you upright with him without ever pulling out of you. Your mind was foggy and your limbs weak as you barely worked to help him, but he didn’t care about the lack of support. He was crazed enough from the look on your face that something superhuman took hold. He pushed you forward, closer to the vanity as his eyes stayed locked on your face.

You raised your hands to the cabinet, knowing his course of action before he ever began. You began to regain your wits at the same time as he pushed your upper half down towards the wooden surface. Your chest landed on the frigid surface, sending a shock through your body as you felt it. He reached upwards, his hand gathering your hair and knotting it around his fist as he began to move his hips. The new position allowed for much more freedom, and much more control. As much as he enjoyed the slowness as you grew familiar with the feeling of him inside you, he could only give up control for so long before he went insane.

“Being so good for me, sweetheart. Just a little bit longer, okay?” He pleaded, his hips slamming forward. A guttural moan tore through your chest, the pain and pleasure mixing together to create a whole new kind of feeling for you. You were tired, nearly fucked out and ready to go to sleep, but if he wanted it, so did you. You would do anything to please him and you would enjoy it while you did so.

“Y-yes, sir.” You complied, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to fight of the irritating overstimulation trying so hard to take hold. “Whatever you want, sir.” You added, finding that talking was helping you come back to your senses a little more.

“Fuck, baby.” He hissed, his hand coming down on your ass with a force that sent your knees weak. The ring on his middle finger sent an aching pain across the flesh, but it was so addicting you barely thought twice about it. The stinging sensation spread across your skin, the redness already beginning to darken where his palm came in contact with you. “Take it so fucking good.” He praised, his dark eyes still watching your expression in the mirror. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, the desperation to please him evident and doing nothing but furthering the frenzy he was stuck in.

“F-feels so fucking g-good.” You gasped, stuttering the words out through a mess of moans. You raised your hips a little higher, sinking your upper half down so he could reach a whole new angle inside of you.

“Such a little whore.” He commented, tugging at your hair and forcing your head upwards. Your eyes raked over your reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing yourself so strung out on pleasure. “Do you like being a whore for me, angel?”

“I love it.” You confessed, your heavy-lidded stare burning into him. “Only for you, sir.” You added, ensuring he knew that now, he was the only one who would ever have access to that side of you.

“That’s right.” He affirmed your statement, his words gruff as his movements grew sloppy. He was being pulled in to the same euphoria you’d experienced at his hands only moments before, the sensation taking hold and growing impatient with him. He needed it, and after his generosity, you would do anything to get him there. “This is all for me now, sweetheart. Nobody else gets to see you like this.” A high pitched whine echoed through the room, confirming his feelings on the matter without any words needing to be spoken at all. You wanted to be his; you didn’t want anyone else to have you like that, ever again. He brought out a side of you that you barely knew to exist, and the thought of letting it go was grievous. “Do you understand me?” He growled, knowing you did but eager to hear it anyway.

“Yes, sir.” You panted, watching as wrinkles formed between his brows, showing you just how hard he was trying to hold back.

“Want to hear the words, baby.” He pressed further, his pace bruising and making it difficult to formulate the statement he wanted you to say. Another moan tore through you, your throat raw as it passed through. You were on the brink of another orgasm, so close but it seemed just out of reach.

“I’m all yours, sir.” You promised, pushing your hips back towards him to meet the time of his thrusts. As his cock slammed into your cervix, your knees went weak below you, threatening to collapse under your weight. He noticed the change in your posture, immediately slipping his arm under your hips to hold you upright.

No matter the circumstance, he wanted you to know that you would never have to worry about falling so long as he was there to catch you.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He let out a strained sigh, his face contorting into an expression of pleasure. He was close, but he wasn’t willing to give in until he gave you one last orgasm.

To you, the thought alone was ridiculous; after everything he’d already done for you, you couldn’t imagine him holding back any longer.

“S’okay, baby.” You breathed, catching his eye so he could see the sincerity in your face. “Want you to cum for me.” You said, your words hitting him like a brick. It seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, the role switch sending him spiralling in an instant.

You could feel him pull out of you, both of you knowing he couldn’t push himself any further. Something seemed to take over you as he did so, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. You spun around, facing him and quickly dropping to your knees before him. You were nearly saddened at the thought of such an anticlimactic end for him, and the feeling forced you to take action as you moved your head forward and took him into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him as you bobbed your head down to take his full length, the simple fact causing the ache between your legs to worsen beyond anything it had already been that night. You missed the feeling of him inside you, but you were more eager to please him than you were to satisfy yourself.

He looked down at your face, shock written across his features as he processed your sudden change. It didn’t take long for the surprise to be forgotten, especially as his tip hit the back of your throat. His hand reached down, holding your hair in his hand so he did not have to miss a single detail of your face. The warm wetness of your mouth was just as inviting as your cunt, and the sensation furthered his pleasure as if he’d never pulled out of you at all. He didn’t want to push you, afraid that you might not be able to handle the same intensity in the newest position, but when you pushed your head further down on him and his cock slid down your throat, he quickly understood that you were willing to take whatever he wanted to give you.

His hips bucked forward in response to the feeling, and you forced yourself to swallow, your throat constricting around him and effortlessly sending him over the edge. At the same time, the most beautiful sound fell from his lips, gracing your ears and settling deep in the pit of your stomach.

For a moment, you felt like you could get off on the sound of his pleasure alone.

His posture slipped slightly as his orgasm washed over him, his release spilling down your throat as he held you to him. You moved your head against the force of his hand, your tongue moving against the underside of his cock as you swallowed back every last drop of him. A strangled cry left his lips as he pulled back, his hips jutting forward again as you ran your tongue over his tip. The saltiness lingered on your lips, making your mouth water and leaving you wanting more. In that moment, there wasn’t a single thing you wouldn’t do for the man standing before you.

“Get up.” He spat, his shoulders still heaving with his breaths. Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his gaze as you withdrew your head. His tip fell from your lips with a slight popping sound, and you couldn’t bite back the smirk forming on your lips. “You think you can do something like that and finish it there?” He growled, watching as you rose to your feet. He was not angry, and not a single part of his face gave you that impression. He was enamoured with you, unable to walk away without at least thanking you for the service, and he was completely beside himself with desire. “Turn around. I’m not fucking done with you, yet.”

You did as he asked, spinning back around to face the mirror. You sunk back to the position you were in moments before, your hands clamped around the edge of the wooden dresser. Instead of returning to his earlier position, he sunk to his knees similar to how you had done for him, his head between your legs and within seconds, his tongue connecting with your core.

He got straight to the point, so far gone he didn’t even care to tease you anymore as his tongue settled over your clit. Your hips moved back to meet his mouth, in desperate search of more and he barely even started. You were too far gone to care, much similar to him, and your body was still abuzz with the pleasure he had already granted you that night.

“Fuck, Jake.” You cried, your voice raspy and your tone breathy as your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. His movements were different than before, more messy and much less calculated, but it almost made the entire ordeal even more enjoyable. The knowledge that he was completely feral for you alone was overwhelming, and the fact he was pleasuring you solely because he enjoyed it was something you’d never experienced before. “Please don’t stop, baby.” You pleaded, your heart thudding against your chest and your face hot with emotion. He moaned against you, assuring you he would never even dream of it. The sound appeared much more animalistic than it was before. His hands raised, grabbing your hips and pulling you back towards his face. He was working at you with desperation, like he needed it just as bad as you did.

Your stomach was tense, your legs trembling as his fingers bruised your skin. You were so close, too far gone to care about keeping yourself quiet and without a care in the world about the marks he was leaving on your body. You wanted to remember it, to wake up in the morning and see the dirty details of the night lingering on your skin. In days to come, you wanted to think of the night every time you took your clothes off, living in the feeling of being his just for a moment longer.

“Jake!” You cried, your knuckles white from your grip on the vanity. Your body ached with exhaustion, but you were in such desperate need of another climax that not even that could deter you. He hummed against you, the warmth of his tongue and the vibration of the sound working together to push you closer to the edge. You could barely think straight, your skin tingling with pleasure every time he moved. You worried that you might not survive the fall, the orgasm barreling towards you faster than you could comprehend. Then again, with him holding you, you had a lingering sense of comfort, like you could survive anything so long as he was there to support you through it.

With one last flick of his tongue, you were pushed over the edge and there was no coming back. A strangled whine tore through your chest, your legs locking in place as the sensation took hold. You were crying his name, begging him for something he couldn’t give, because not even you knew what you needed. He didn’t even think of moving away, working you through the process until you rode out the high, and even then he felt like he had to force himself away from you.

When you relaxed against him, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were so tired, so ready to curl up in bed with him by your side. You wanted to sleep soundly, so much so that you could forgo the conversation about what the two of you were and deal with it in the morning. You expected him to feel the same, but he rose to his feet with a whole new surge of energy overtaking him. Wordlessly, he helped you stand upright, spinning you around once more by your hips, but he didn’t let go this time. Instead, he lifted you up, similar to how he did earlier that night but with much more strength due to the lust working to his advantage. You wrapped your legs around him, exhausted but still able to comply to his demands. Your mind was elsewhere, your body working solely to please him as he held you to him with one hand. His other reached out, carelessly clearing the surface of the vanity with one swipe of his arm. The few items toppled over and landed on the floor, and he sat you down on the edge of it.

“I know you’re tired angel, but I need to feel you again. I can’t fucking help myself.” He explained, reaching between you and running his tip through the wetness still lingering between your legs. He was still achingly hard, in dire need of relief again despite his last orgasm only being moments before. Your eyes were drooping so close to closed, but as his cock drifted over your clit, your hips grinded forward into the feeling, in search of the very thing that might be the death of you.

Slowly, he thrusted himself forward, his dick falling into position and slowly pushing inside of you again. Unprotected sex was risky, especially after his previous orgasm, but neither of you seemed to care a bit about it, too desperate to be close to each other again. The sensation of him inside you was too much, the stretch of your walls as he filled you again so much more daunting than the last time. Still, despite your body screaming with overstimulation, you couldn’t deny how right it felt to have him so close.

“You can take it, baby. I know you can.” He encouraged, beginning a slow rock of his hips against you. The newest position allowed for a whole lot more intimacy, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t completely living for it. Your arms raised, locking around his neck and pulling him closer. “Being so, so good for me, baby.” He praised, his hands traveling over your bare back to pull your chest closer to him.

You were completely fucked out, and you had no idea how he was still going. You had a hard time imagining that you had such an effect on him, but the proof was in his actions. This time around, he was much more generous with his sweet side, and had much less control over the sounds falling from his lips. He was desperate, acting as if the control was in your hands despite his dominant aura, like he would die if he couldn’t have you for just a little longer. You never thought Jake Kiszka would be the one before you, pathetically needy and unable to resist the temptation, but you were so glad it ended up that way.

“Come here.” You muttered, pulling his face closer so you could kiss him. The taste of you on his lips still lingered, something that you were growing more used to as time went on. The sweetness of his kiss was nearly too much to bear, a pitiful moan slipping into his mouth as he continued to fuck into you. You were a mess for him, willing to let him do whatever he pleased. The best part about it was that he felt the exact same for you in the moment.

Your tongue glided over his bottom lip, begging for more attention from him. His lips parted slightly, allowing you to slip it into his mouth. The kiss was sloppy, the salvia shared between the two of you soaking your lips and coating the upper part of your chin, but it was addictive. The messiness of the action only made it even more so, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

His chest was pressed against yours, his heart beat wild and matching your own. The dampness from the sweat on your skin caused the two of you to stick together, forcing you to stay in the position. His hands were grasping at your body, doing all he could to bring you closer than you could possibly get, and your hands were tangled in the mess of his hair. Neither of you wanted to break apart, so you stayed just like that for as long as you could.

As you continued to kiss him, the pressure in the pit of your stomach began to rise again, this time different than the last. It had little to do with his hips moving and everything to do with the connection you felt with him. His nose brushing against yours as he did all he could to continue the kiss was euphoric, and you couldn’t believe he wanted you so badly. After so long spent thinking he hated you, the feeling of him loving you was otherworldly. He was holding you with all of the emotion he’d kept locked up for so long, the truth coming out in a climactic and emotional manner. Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him further into you as he continued to fuck you.

For a moment, you felt like you had become one, cohesive being that survived solely off the beating of each others hearts.

You knew you were at the end, that you couldn’t possibly hold anything back. All of your willpower disappeared, your body doing as it pleased and your mind having no say over it. Without confirmation, you believed in your heart that he felt the same way as you did. He could feel the flutter of your walls around him, the telltale sign that you were close to another climax. He continued his pace, never thinking of stopping even for a moment. He needed to feel you in the most primal, visceral way possible.

“Come on, angel.” He muttered against your lips, upping the force in which he was fucking into you. “One more, baby. You can do it.” His voice was strained, like he was teetering on the same edge as you were.

“You too?” You asked, pulling away just enough so you could look over his face.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, almost embarrassed over the fact. It only seemed to further the burning in your belly, and you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. Neither of you cared about the consequences, only the intensity of the connection between you as he fucked you closer to the orgasm. In a permissive manner, you leaned toward and pulled him into another kiss, your mouth meeting his own and telling him everything he needed to know.

A groan rattled his chest as his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer to him as he gave in to the feeling. You did the same, feeling your skin tingle with the intensity you’d felt so many times already. This time was different, more emotional and less physical, but it was a million times better than anything you had ever felt.

Together, the two of you reached the peak, muffling every moan and cry with your mouths. His stature faltered, falling over into you slightly as you held him tightly. Your entire body trembled as the euphoria overtook you one last time, and his hips stuttered as he pulled your hips forward onto him. For the second time, he spilled his release into you, unapologetic as he worked you through your own orgasm. Your body ached from the tension in your limbs, your ribs pained from your heart pounding against them. Your hands loosened on him as you relaxed, the moment passed you by almost as quick as it came.

Reluctantly, he parted from the kiss so he could catch his breath. His forehead rested on your own, and his eyes seemed tired, but full of love. There was no more hesitation, no reluctance or indifference in his gaze. Instead, it was replaced with the emotion he was so determined to confess, and it washed over you like summer rain. It felt better than anything ever had, and you never wanted him to look at you any other way ever again.

Silence became the two of you for a few moments, neither of you having the energy to speak. He rested inside of you, completely content with holding you there as he soaked up the last bit of intimacy the moment had to offer. Your brain was abuzz with thoughts, all pertaining to him, and for once, there was nothing negative. Finally, you were at peace, completely comfortable with the man before you. It felt right. You couldn’t deny the fact, and you were over the moon with the outcome of the entire ordeal.

Eventually, he leaned forward, placing one last, gentle kiss to your lips. It was sweet, soft, and exactly what you needed to come back to earth. A small smile was tugging at his lips as he studied your face, and finally, he spoke. The words were quiet, barely noticeable over the sound of your beating heart, but you clung to them as if it were necessary for survival.

“Let me take you out to dinner. Let me do this right.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him. Your bare chest rested against his own, his arms around your waist and as he held you tightly.

“You sure Little Miss Sunshine isn’t too much for you?” You teased, a tired smile crossing your lips as you rested your forehead against his.

“Never too much for me, sweetheart.” He shook his head, looking over the entire picture before him. He had never felt so lucky in his entire life, and he was so grateful that you decided to take a chance on him even after he’d been so rude to you. As he watched your face, he realized he was almost more excited at the prospect of sleeping next to you than he was over having sex with you. “Little Miss Sunshine’s all mine, now.” He said as a matter of fact, turning his head upwards and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I can get used to that.” You breathed, unable to express just how happy you were at the sound of his words. After having him in such a way, you would be stupid to let him go.

“I think I can, too.” He smiled against you, soaking up the warmth of loving you openly. You let your eyes close, leaning against him, content with staying in the position for a little while longer. The warmth of his body was alluring, and for a brief moment, you thought you might fall asleep right there in his arms.

You couldn’t believe the night had come to such a climactic end, and you never would have thought you and Jake would end up in a position like such. You were happy, relieved even that all the years of struggling to connect turned out to be a misunderstanding at the very core. You were excited for dinner, you were excited to share a bed with him, wrapped up in his arms all night long, and you were excited to know him. Finally, you could delve into more than superficialities and small talk about the weather, and you could know the boy that always seemed to make your heart beat just a little faster.

Despite all of the new and exciting things, there was still one thing that remained true amidst the chaos, and that was the fact that under no circumstance would you ever let it slip that Sam was right, because both of you knew that you would never live it down.

[alisonfelixwrites]

the deal - part 1/3 (*) [harry styles au]

//

part two, part three.

summary: in which harry & claire are both single parents and their kids are best friends in school. atlas & finn are six years old and want to hang out all the time even if their parents don't get along .... at first.

word count: 23,973

content warning: smut!! (not too much for my standards lol). mentions of drug use, single parenthood with neglect from the other parent, mentions of physical/emotional abuse

this one is also already on my wp (to be found under 'muse')!! but she deserved her own moment on tumblr because this is one of my faves ❤️

//

“Oh my god.” The voice of a distressed woman behind the wheel sounded through the car.

Claire pressed her hand down on the honk once more, “Fucking move!” She roared before swerving to the side, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The many curse words easily tumbled from her dry lips as she made her way through a part of town she hadn’t often driven through.

Her old Toyota stood out like a sore thumb between all the fancy cars of the fancy people who resided here in these fancy homes. She was sure that if they took one look at her, her Burger King outfit would stand out too against the bright blue of her old car.

“Why the fuck do you drive a Tesla when you don’t even know how to use it!” Claire continued shouting, making hand gestures to the other drivers. An elderly woman driving a BMW gave her a disgusted look and Claire simply rolled her eyes, speeding off now that the intersection had finally cleared a bit.

Her heart was hammering in her throat and her hands were tightly clamped around the wheel. With her cap still on her head, Claire hadn’t had the time to get changed once she noticed the many missed calls on her phone. She simply jumped into her car after her shift and drove like a maniac to try and keep the damage to a minimum.

Waze finally showed the place she had to be at, and she came to a screeching halt before clumsily driving up a massive driveway which held a Land Rover and an old Volkswagen Beetle. Claire jumped out of the car and rushed up to the front door, completely out of breath.

Jamming her finger on the doorbell over and over again, she noticed a set of lights being turned on in the hallway before the door was yanked open.

“I’m so sorry!” She immediately blurted out, being met with a man who shot her an angry and very judging glare. Claire couldn’t blame him. She had fucked up.

He towered over her, blocking the doorway to his house as Claire shifted on her feet. He took a quick glance at her outfit, “I take it you’re Claire Carter?”

“Yes.” She breathed, “Shit, I-I’m so sorry I’m so late.” She palmed her forehead, fatigue taking over. Her entire body ached after standing on her feet for so many hours, faking polite smiles at the customers who did nothing but treat her like shit. She reeked of fries and couldn’t wait to take a shower.

The man in front of her wore joggers and a casual, white shirt. He had a clip holding his brown hair away and some scruff on his jaw. The judging look he sent her made Claire wish the ground could swallow her whole. He eventually exhaled, “You’re the one who forgot her child at school?” The snide tone of his voice made Claire press her lips together.

She lowered her eyes and swallowed, “Look, I’m just here to pick up Atlas.” Her voice was softer now, “Where is he?”

“Inside.” The man nudged his head inside his house, “Playing with my boy.”

Claire nodded, “Right. You’re Finn’s dad, aren’t you? Atlas talks about him a lot."

“Yeah.”

Silence took over and Claire glanced into the hallway behind him, “So… Can you tell him I’m here? Or can I come in?” A hint of impatience laced her voice. It was already late and Claire knew the never ending amount of chores that were waiting for her at home. Not to mention she had to get Atlas to bed on time to not disrupt their entire weekend schedule.

“He’s a good kid, you know?” The man spoke, snapping Claire out of her thoughts. She flicked her eyes up at him before frowning softly, “I’m aware. I’m raising him.”

“No, like… He’s a good kid. Teacher was raving about him. I went in to pick up Finn and they were the only two left. The teacher was about ready to leave and she couldn’t reach you. She was about to call the police.”

Claire’s cheeks turned an embarrassed shade of pink as she swallowed. She was being lectured by this man, who clearly judged her for not being a decent parent and forgetting to pick up her child after school. Claire’s stomach turned, knowing full well she already wasn’t making a good impression with the people of Atlas’ new school. She was hardly ever there to drop him off or pick him up and had a sitter do those things. She had never even met most of the teachers or the other parents, which was very frowned upon at that school.

“I’d like to take him home now.” Claire repeated, her voice a little hoarse, “It’s late.”

“Wonder why.” He scoffed before sighing and turning around, “Finn!” He yelled into the house. Claire felt her bottom lip wobbling, attempting to recompose herself before the sheer look of disgust of this man brought her to tears.

She soon heard little footsteps running over the wooden floors of the house, which honestly was more of a mansion. Even when Claire felt like shit, the sight of her little boy with his shaggy blonde hair, cheered her up immediately. With a wide grin on her face, she crouched down, opening up her arms for him to jump into her.

“Hi, baby!” Claire squeaked, spinning him around as Atlas clung to her. He had some sort of stain on his shirt but Claire didn’t mind, holding his body close to hers. “Hi, mummy! I missed you today.” Atlas bubbled in response. Claire hummed before putting him down, already feeling the massive ache in her back, “I know, I missed you too.”

Her eyes then flicked to the boy standing in the doorway too, his dad having a protective hand on the top of his back. “Hi.” Claire smiled, holding out her hand, “You must be Finn.”

“Yes.” He timidly spoke, offering her a small smile. He shook her hand with little enthusiasm, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”

“Yeah, ‘m Claire.” She smiled back before straightening up, “Well, thank you again. We should get going.”

“That your car?” Finn’s father nudged his head towards the blue Toyota and Claire exhaled, “Yes.”

“Hm.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes, “Have a good night.” She mumbled, not even waiting for his response. Atlas shouted a goodbye to Finn, waving excitedly before climbing into the passenger seat of the car. Claire checked her mirrors, avoiding the shocked eyes at all costs that her kid was getting in the front seat of the car.

Claire being the responsible parent she was couldn’t afford to fix the broken safety belts of the backseat, so Atlas drove up front with her. Backing out of the long driveway, she watched Finn and his father disappear back inside of the huge house.

“’M sorry, baby. Mum had to work late.” Claire yawned softly as they hit traffic again to drive home, “Did you have fun with your friend?”

“Yes, Finn’s really nice. A little quiet.” Atlas spoke. Claire hummed, “Are you hungry?”

“No! Harry made us dinner.”

“Harry.” Claire nodded, “That Finn’s dad?”

“Yes. He’s nice.”

Claire huffed and took a left, “Debatable.” She mumbled under her breath, not for Atlas to hear. The rest of the car ride was filled with Atlas’ babbles that Claire honestly loved. He spoke about nothing important most of the time but she loved hearing his voice and the way he saw the world, what observations he made. In her mind, she was already thinking about tomorrow though.

She had the Saturday-shift to cover too, so Atlas was spending the day with his father. The thought alone made Claire’s stomach clench but she tried to push it away. He deserved a shot at two parents and perhaps Evan really did deserve another chance to prove himself as a father.

The heavy door to the appartement hardly budged as Claire put her entire weight against it to open it up. The entire building shook as she did so, and she could tell the neighbours were listening to the news through the thin walls of this crappy building.

No one ever said it was this hard to be an uneducated, unsupported single mum.

With a heavy sigh, Claire ran her fingers through Atlas’ blonde whisps as he excitedly walked into their home. As always, both kicked off their shoes by the door and headed through the narrow hallway – passing both their bedrooms – towards the living area. Pizza boxes were on the counter from last night and Claire was glad Atlas had already eaten at his friend’s house because in all her haste, she even forgot to pick up groceries.

Ignoring the rumbling of her own stomach, she decided on a quick shower to feel fresh and clean again before snuggling up on the couch with Atlas to watch some of his favourite shows. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, refusing to go to sleep before her six year-old did.

Life was pathetic enough as it was.

She couldn’t shake the look of absolute judgement and despise she had received from Harry. Yes, she had forgotten to pick up her child after school. Yes, she had driven like a maniac and showed up at his door dressed in her Burger King outfit, hours late. Yes, they had been close on calling the cops on her.

But that didn’t make her a bad mother.

Claire sighed, gently stroking her fingers over Atlas’ forehead as he sucked on his thumb. It was a habit she tried to get him to shake, but simply didn’t have the energy to constantly point it out to him. He was too old to still be doing that, but part of Claire knew that even Atlas was traumatized from the shit he had witnessed as a baby and an infant.

It had taken Claire two years to get away from Evan and the past four years had been hell. And bliss at the same time.

She didn’t think she’d be a single mum at twenty-eight, making ends meet and having no savings to start something up. But Atlas was kind, fun and energetic. Now that he was a bit older, it was like having a mini-me. She could always talk to him and he was intelligent for his age, following along easily in the topics Claire spoke to him about. He was respectful albeit a little wild at certain times.

In his previous school they had called him a ‘wild child’ who ‘acted out because of the way his mother raised him’. Simply because he had learned the word ‘fuck’ from Claire and had yelled it out in class.

Once.

Claire thought she’d be done with the judgement, but after only a few weeks in his new school she could already sense it again. If not from the teachers, then definitely from the other parents. She was happy Atlas made friends so easily and that he was such an open, approachable kid, but she could really do without the critiques of the others.

It was on Monday that she saw Harry again.

After much whining from Atlas, Claire decided to drop him off at school herself for the first time. Along with all the other parents in line, she was crouched down in front of him to make sure everything was in his backpack for the day. She was parked with one wheel on the curb in front of a garage, so she really didn’t have much time.

Glancing around to check for police in the street, Claire hurried up and stuffed everything in his backpack, “There, you’ve got everything.”

“Thank you, mummy.” Atlas grinned. A dimple popped in his cheek, one of the things he inherited from Evan. Claire’s stomach turned at the memory. Another memory was the ache in her arm from the bruise she had there. A much more recent memory, from picking up Atlas on Saturday.

She wasn’t sure who had reacted worse to her being late for pick-up. Harry, who had stared her down and made her feel insignificant, or Evan, who had grabbed her and shoved her against the wall while yelling in her face.

“Good boy.” Claire proudly smiled, cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead, “You be good today, hm? Belle will be here to pick you up after school.”

Atlas’ face dropped, “Belle?” He pushed his bottom lip out into a pout, “Why not you?”

“I have to work, honey.” Claire sighed, “But I’ll be home for dinner.”

“But I don’t like Belle.” Atlas whined, “She stinks.”

Claire could feel a few pairs of eyes on her and rolled her lips inside of her mouth, “Well, that’s because she smokes so much. But I have to work, I’ve explained this to you.” Claire kept her voice down but Atlas whined louder, jutting out his lip, “But mummy!”

“Atlas.” Claire sternly whispered, shaking her head to him, “I’ll see you for dinner, end of discussion.”

He stared at the ground with a thick frown in his forehead, refusing to look at her, “Fuck.” He whispered.

Claire’s eyes widened, “Atlas! No,” She held up her finger, “you promised me you’d never say it again.” Her cheeks flamed up as the parents next to her had definitely heard that. Atlas shrugged while staring at the tips of his worn-out sneakers, “You say it all the time.”

“I’m an adult.” Claire sighed before scratching above her brow. Her hair was in a low bun and she wore jeans and a large hoodie, “Look, just go inside, hm? Class is about to begin, don’t want you to be late.”

Atlas didn’t look at her anymore, simply turned around and walked off. A lump formed in Claire’s throat as she watched him, and her hands fiddled with the sleeves of her jumper, “I love you! Have a good day!” She called after him, but he didn’t react. Exhaling a shaky breath, Claire tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hi!” She heard the voice from next to her, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”

Claire forced a smile, staring at the perfectly done make-up of one of the mums next to her, “Hi.” She nodded, “Yes, I’m Claire. Nice to mee you.”

“Hi, I’m Dolores.” The woman smiled back with her pearly white teeth, “One of my girls is in Atlas’ class. Betty.”

“Oh,” Claire raised her brows, “yeah, I think Atlas has mentioned her.”

Another mum joined the conversation, “So you’re Atlas’ mum, hm? We all thought it was that gothic sixteen year old.” She laughed, referring to Belle and her dark make-up and black clothes. Claire pressed her lips together, “No, that’s just his sitter. She lives in the building with us, so it’s easy.”

“Hm.” The third woman simply nodded, “Well, me and Dolores are off to have some coffee. Would you care to join?”

Claire forced a smile, “Thank you for the offer, but I have to get to work. It was nice to meet you.” She shot an awkward wave and turned around, stopping dead in her tracks when she near bumped into Harry. Claire was only eye level with his chest and shortly looked up, sending him a nod, “Hi.” She went to stride past him but Harry stopped her, turning around with her, “Nice outfit.”

She could hear the judgement in his voice and rolled her eyes before turning to face him, “Look, I could really do without all those comments of yours. I thanked you for looking after Atlas on Friday, there’s really no need for you to behave like that.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest while firmly keeping her feet on the ground. Harry wore a loose, grey cable knit jumper and some blue jeans that hung loosely around his legs. His hair was back in that little clip to keep it away.

The other mums were out of earshot and Harry frowned, taking a step closer to Claire, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She stood her ground although her voice wavered, “I know you think you’re better than me. And you probably are. Sue me for working a lot so I can provide for my kid. Sometimes it happens that I lose track of time or that I cover a shift. ” She bit before turning around and stomping off.

Harry watched her, scoffing under his breath. His eyes lingered as the blonde walked up to her horribly parked car, near flipping of another driver who honked at her for crossing randomly. The car moved from how harshly she slammed the door shut before she drove off. He shook his head to himself. That reckless driving with a six year-old next to her was dangerous.

He turned back with his hands in his pockets, feeling the eyes of the other mums on him. Harry was basically the only father who made it to drop-off moments. It caused most of the other mums to shoot their shot somehow and flirt with him, which he always rolled his eyes at.

He shot Finn one last wave, watching as he hurried up to walk next to Atlas. Both immediately broke out into a grin and Harry sighed, part of him wishing Finn could’ve found another friend in class. Finn was a little quiet and timid, which is why it surprised Harry that he gravitated towards someone as loud and extraverted as Atlas.

Before Atlas transferred schools, Finn never really mentioned many of his classmates. He often played by himself and never asked to invite anyone over for a playdate. Ever since a few weeks, he talked about Atlas all the time.

So when Harry saw the little blonde boy, waiting for his mum who had promised to pick him up, he took it upon himself to take him home and care for him until they got a hold of one of his parents. He had overheard the teachers talking about it, and only one name was on the call sheet.

Claire Carter.

A blonde-haired hurricane who showed up at his door by the time it was dark. The muted brown of her Burger King-outfit didn’t fit her or compliment her in any way. Even from the distance, Harry could see the fire in her eyes, hidden by a lot of fatigue.

But he didn’t really care in that moment. She had put her child in danger, and Harry could never imagine forgetting to pick up Finn from school or not notifying the teacher. He simply couldn’t understand how that happened.

He wasn’t able to keep his snide remarks down, somehow feeling so frustrated with her that she was so casual about fucking forgetting her child.

But he had quickly developed a soft spot for Atlas. Partly because he was making feel Finn so at ease, and partly because he was just a funny, goofy and playful kid. Harry had overheard them as they played together, and he constantly asked Finn questions. Asking how he was doing, asking if he felt okay, asking if he had a good day at school. It was gentle and caring.

Until he had heard Atlas slipping in a curse word and Harry’s eyes had widened tremendously.

After meeting his mum, he wasn’t really all that surprised anymore.

***

“Booze?” Harry frowned as Claire handed him the bottle of scotch.

She sheepishly shrugged, “You don’t drink?”

“Uh – no, I do.” Harry breathed, eyeing the label and seeing some knock-off version of cheap scotch. He cleared his throat, “’S just a bit of a weird gift to thank someone for looking after your kid.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to get you. Don’t think you need another stick to push up your ass.” Claire muttered and Harry glared at her, “Anything else?”

They were back in the same position. Claire was on the grass in front of Harry’s house as he stood in the doorway after Finn and Atlas ran inside. It was a Saturday and even though Claire had felt excited about spending a day with Atlas, he had asked her for a playdate with Finn.

And so here she was, dropping him off at his best friend’s house.

“No.” She breathed, “Not really. You’re just going to text me if I can come pick him up?”

Harry nodded, “Sure. Any allergies or something I need to be aware of for lunch?”

“No, he’s all good. Not a big fan of spinach if you were considering that.” Claire informed him. Harry softly nodded, “Fine then, bye.” He closed the door and Claire huffed, shaking her head. She hoped for Atlas’ sake that Finn wasn’t as much of a bitch as his father.

But disaster struck the moment Claire got in her car and tried to start it, only for her car the make the most pathetic noise and shut down.

“No.” She groaned, “God, please, no.” She tried again, jamming her key in it only to receive no response. Claire sat in the driver’s seat for a good ten minutes, simply refusing to get out and knock on Harry’s door again to ask him for help. She refused. Stubbornly, she sat in the seat until she got too bored and

Finally pushing her pride aside, she got out of the car in the scorching sun. Her arms crossed in front of her, she sighed while ringing Harry’s door again. He opened up with that same frown, “Forgot something?”

“I never left.” Claire deadpanned, “My car’s dead. Won’t start. Can I come inside to call a mechanic? It’s boiling.”

“I can feel that. ‘S like an oven.” Harry glanced outside before opening up the door wider, “Fine, come in.”

“Thank you.” She breathed. Harry cringed at her sandy shoes as she strolled through his hallway and straight into the kitchen like she had been here a billion times before. “Where are the kids?” She questioned while sitting down on a barstool.

“Yeah, make yourself at home, why don’t you.” Harry sarcastically spoke before leaning against the counter, “Upstairs. Finn’s got a playroom.”

“A playroom.” Claire nodded while scrolling her phone while searching for a mechanic, “Fancy.”

“Had to do something with my ex’s empty art studio.”

The comment made Claire flick her eyes up. Harry was staring out the window with his arms crossed. The stubble was more prominent now than a week before and the sun coming through definitely accentuated his prominent jaw and the shape of his lips. Claire put her phone down as she leaned her arms on the countertop, “Want to talk about it?”

Harry huffed softly, “No. Did you find a mechanic yet?”

“Do you know anyone in this neighbourhood? That I can like… afford.” Claire muttered the last part and Harry pressed his lips together, “Yeah, I’ll call my car guy. Don’t have to worry about money.”

“Your car guy?”

“Mhm.” Harry was on his phone, a concentrated frown on his forehead. Claire tilted her head to the side, “That’s… I mean, how often do you need a car guy?”

“Just sometimes.” Harry shrugged, “The old beetle outside gives up every once in a while. I call him and he comes here, it’s easy.”

“Both cars are yours?” Claire asked in clarification, and Harry hummed, “Yes.”

“Wow.” She mumbled, nodding to herself, “Must be nice.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her remark and then called his car guy, sharing a few quick words with him before hanging up again, “He’ll be here soon.”

Claire nodded, “Don’t you have jumper cables?”

“No, my car guy does.”

“Right.” She breathed. They were left in silence for a bit as the coffee was running. Harry hadn’t asked her if she wanted any, but poured her a cup either way and Claire didn’t complain. The longer the silence lasted, the more comfortable it became as both scrolled on their phones for a bit, the occasional sigh coming from Harry’s mouth.

Giggles and small feet carried themselves through the hallway.

“Daddy!!” Finn bubbled as both him and Atlas ran into the kitchen. Harry’s brows raised at the sight of his son, “Bub, where’s your shirt?”

“Atlas and I want to swim!” He ignored the question and Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “Now?”

Atlas excitedly jumped, “Swim!”

“Atlas.” Claire chuckled while shaking her head, “You don’t know how to swim.”

Harry flicked his eyes to hers, “He can’t swim?” And Claire shook her head, “No, he hasn’t been taught yet.”

“Hm.” Harry exhaled, “Uh – well, I have floaties. Finn, you should use them too.”

“But, daddy!” The boy whined, “I can swim!” He stomped his foot down and Harry huffed, “In a kiddie pool. Not in a pool this deep.”

Finn pouted and Claire fought her smile at how adorable he looked, “But, daddy…” He tried again, “you always come in the pool with me and swim with me and throw me around and then save me.” He explained. Claire’s lips curled up in a smile, “Oh, do you?” She flicked her eyes to Harry who scoffed slightly before crouching down to Finn’s level, “Buddy, I have to fix something with Atlas’ mum’s car, so I can’t come in the pool right now. Besides, I have some work to do in the office. I thought you guys would be nice and quiet for me today?”

“We can be quiet in the pool.” Atlas butted in and Harry shook his head, “It’s gonna be a no. I can’t supervise when you guys are in the pool and it’s too dangerous.”

“Mummy,” Atlas whispered, tugging on Claire’s sleeve. She turned to face him as Harry ruffled Finn’s hair, who couldn’t hide the disappointment for the life of him.

“Yes?” She smiled at Atlas, who nibbled his lip a little, “Why don’t we have a pool?”

Claire took a breath, “Because we live in an apartment.”

“Yeah.” Atlas lowered his eyes, “But I like being outside. Finn has a very big garden to play in.”

Claire’s heart clenched as she exhaled before pressing her lips together. Atlas looked at her with big, green eyes, expecting an answer she couldn’t give him. Claire couldn’t tell him she also really wanted a house with a garden and a pool and a dog, giving Atlas the room he craved to play and be wild. He had a lot of energy and no real way to get rid of that in their small, dingy apartment.

Harry saved her though, clearing his throat, “Atlas, you can borrow swimming trunks from Finn. You guys get in the pool for a while once I grab the floaties.” The cheers sounded loudly through the room even though Harry wasn’t finished yet, “Only for a little while!” He held his finger up, “I have to work!”

Before the final word had left his lips, Finn and Atlas had bolted out of the room and back up the stairs and Harry let out a sigh, checking his watch. Claire followed his gaze, noticing his bony fingers tapping on the countertop in thought. The veins wrapping around his arm led her eyes up to the tattoos on his skin.

“I can stay too.” She offered, taking a sip of her coffee.

Harry seemed snapped out of his thoughts, “Hm?”

Claire cleared her throat, “I can stay too. You said you need to get work done and I have a free day. I can stay by the pool with the boys. I don’t mind, if you don’t have the time for it.”

“I want to have the time for it.” Harry clarified and Claire nodded, “I know. But it’s fine if you don’t. You can’t have time for everything.”

Harry scratched his jaw in thought, “I don’t have like bathing suits here. Astrid took all her stuff.”

Astrid.

Claire shrugged, “I’m wearing black underwear. Decent enough, not like… a thong or anything.” She mumbled. Harry fought the flaming of his cheeks before huffing out a chuckle, “Or you could stay by the edge and just put your legs in.”

“Atlas doesn’t know how to swim. Floaties or not, I’m getting in the water with him.” Claire frowned.

Harry sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I mean – uh… If you don’t mind? I really have a project to finish today, I have to meet the deadline or I’m losing this client.”

“What is it that you do exactly?”

“I’m an architect.” Harry mumbled, clearly still lost in thought at Claire’s offer. He nibbled his lip as she nodded, digesting the information. It made sense. Harry worked from home and on his own schedule, which meant he was free to drop Finn off and pick him up from school all the time.

“And you didn’t have any other plans today? On your free day?”

Claire let out a breath, “I – uh… Seeing as Atlas asked for this playdate, I actually planned an actual date this afternoon.” She tilted her head to the side while squinting her eyes at her screen, “But judging by this guy’s texts… he’s about to cancel on me either way so, yeah.” She sighed and put her phone back down, forcing Harry a small smile.

He whistled teasingly, “A date, hm? Spicy.”

“Not all of us are a hundred years old.” She rolled her eyes and Harry huffed out a laugh, “How old do you think I am, Claire?” The playfulness in his tone was something Claire wasn’t used to from him. The Harry she had seen so far in their previous encounters, was uptight and moody. His dimple popped in his left cheek as he smirked slightly.

She faked a small smile back, “Considering your gigantic frown lines, I’d say nearing your forties.”

“Ouch.” Harry placed his hand on his chest, “You wound me. Thirty-four, actually, but thanks. I’ll make some changes to my skincare routine. Noted.”

Claire giggled and shook her head, “I was kidding.”

“Funny girl, aren’t you?”

Claire flicked her eyes up, sensing a shift in Harry’s tone. He had lose the tension in his shoulders, softly smirking at her now from the opposite side of the kitchen as he leaned against the countertop. She lowered her eyes again and Harry cleared his throat, “So, going on a date, hm? First date?”

“Yes.” Claire breathed, “First and last date, which is how it usually goes.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know,” She shrugged, her fingers toying together, “I show up in a pretty dress and flirt and play them a little. It’s all fun and games in the beginning until the real conversations start and it comes up that I’m a mother, raising Atlas by myself.”

Harry slowly nodded and Claire smiled, “You know, they’re usually fine with me having a son. Like, that’s alright mostly. But once they realize I don’t have a week-week schedule with my ex and actually have Atlas near every day, that’s where they draw the line. Like they don’t want to share.” She shrugged, “So that’s where it ends. I’m lucky if I can get some decent sex out of it. Which doesn’t happen often.”

Harry sputtered out a laugh at her bluntness before shaking his head to himself, “Wow. Yeah, I see why it sticks to one date. I could never be with someone who doesn’t appreciate Finn or doesn’t want to spend time with him.”

“It’s a package deal.”

He nodded in agreement, “Sure is.”

Claire leaned her elbow on the countertop and stared at him, “How about you?”

“Me?” Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “Nah. Eternal bachelor.”

She frowned while smiling, “I don’t believe that for a second. I know I’ve only been there to drop off Atlas once, but I could see all those soccer moms making eyes at you.”

“They’re all married.” He rolled his eyes, “And not my type.”

“Rich and beautiful is not your type?” Claire chuckled and Harry shrugged, “Apparently not.”

Silence fell over them again until Harry took a breath, “I’m gonna head up to the office. Grab whatever you want from the fridge or anything. There’s sunscreen in the bathroom and obviously the pool is outside. I’ll go grab the floaties from Finn’s room.”

“Yeah, okay.” Claire nodded. She checked her phone again, just seeing the message come in of her date, cancelling on her and asking to reschedule. She puckered her lips, remembering how he was some hot shot at an up and coming lawyer firm. She didn’t exactly expect him to have time for her on a Saturday.

With Harry’s footsteps heading up the stairs, Claire slowly got up from her barstool and roamed the kitchen. She stared out the window, seeing the pale blue pool in the large garden. It looked inviting, she had to admit. Even if it was nearing the end of September, it was exceptionally warm.

The house felt silent with both boys and Harry upstairs, and Claire’s feet took her to the crispy white living room. Every piece of furniture here looked like it was made by designers and she was nearly scared to touch anything. There weren’t much toys here and then Claire remembered Finn having a playroom upstairs.

As her eyes darted over the pictures on the wall, they stayed put on the brunette in some of the frames. There were about two of her and a younger Finn. The other ones were of Harry and Finn, or a standalone Finn.

Claire figured it was Astrid, Harry’s ex. She was beautiful, obviously. Looking at Finn, he was a gorgeous little boy with obvious great genes.

Just a few minutes later, Claire was outside with both excited boys. Finn and Atlas were around the same size, with Atlas just being a tad taller. Both wore little swimming trunks with either ducks or boats on them and stood perfectly still as Claire put sunscreen on them.

She didn’t see Harry staring at them from the window above. His laptop was open and he was drawing, he really was. Or he tried to. But he stood against the windowsill up on the first floor, staring down the length of his garden. The water of the pool looked inviting and he could see Finn’s wide grin from a mile away.

Claire grinned too, her blonde hair pinned back now with one of Harry’s ballpoints holding it together. It was inventive, he had to give her that. Her hands smoothed over Finn’s back to put the product on him before she gently slid the floaties around the boy’s arms. They both patiently waited at the edge of the pool, excited to jump in.

Harry’s leg twitched a little when his eyes were on her. She kicked off her shoes, a pair of mom jeans on her legs that she popped. The dryness in his throat once she slid the pants down her legs, was something Harry didn’t anticipate. Black underwear was revealed. Simple cotton with just a small lace border.

Harry thanked his impeccable eyesight to see every detail of Claire from a distance. She was shaped beautifully, with curvy thighs and a dip in her waist which was revealed as she lifted the navy top over her head to reveal an equally black bra.

He saw hints of a tattoo on the back of her shoulder, but Claire moved too quickly for Harry to notice it. Urging the boys to get in the pool, she elegantly got in with them.

A small smile tugged on Harry’s lips as he watched the first few minutes of their playing. Atlas and Finn mostly splashed around, ruining Claire’s plans to keep her hair dry. She tossed the ballpen to the side, ducking underneath the water to get in all the way.

She played with Atlas a bit, and Finn too. He laughed loudly as Claire threw him around a little bit, playing gently with him. They did a bit of a race where she purposely let him win while Atlas splashed a little more, without his swimming experience.

It was hours later, when Claire was fresh out of the pool and drying on the sunbed – with both boys running around the garden and giggling – that she felt a towel being dropped on her stomach. Her eyes snapped open in surprise and she squinted, Harry blocking the sunlight a little, “Hi.” He chuckled.

“Oh, hi.” She smiled, sitting up a bit and grabbing the towel, “Thank you.”

“’S fine.” His eyes glanced around the garden, “Did they have fun?”

Claire wrapped the towel around her to dry off, “Yeah. I don’t understand how they’ve got so much energy left, even I need a nap. Two is too much.”

“I’ve honestly never seen Finn this loud.” Harry smiled as his son ran through the garden with Atlas chasing him, “They’re pretty good friends.”

“They are.” Claire smiled as she followed his gaze, “Infectuous, really.”

“They didn’t give you too hard of a time?”

“Not at all. Finn’s a sweet a boy.”

Harry smiled as he nodded, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants, “He is.”

“How about you? Finished your project?”

“Yep.” Harry stretched his arms now, yawning a little, “I need a nap too.” He joked.

Claire got up with a mischievous glint in her eyes, the towel around her form as she took a few steps closer to Harry. He involuntary took a few back, but she was still close enough that he could see the freckles on her nose and the remains of an old scar above her brow.

“What are you doing?” He spoke in a strained voice, taking a few steps back still to create some distance. He could feel himself breaking out into a sweat when Claire just continued to step closer to him. “Claire.” He pushed.

“You know what’s a great substitute for a nap?” She purred, daring to take another step closer to him. She could inhale his perfume and Harry held his breath when she batted her lashes. He swallowed thickly, “Hm?”

“A dip in the water.” She smiled, using a hand that she placed against his covered chest to give him a shove back. Harry’s eyes widened as he lost his balance, “Wh- Wait!” He yelped, reaching his arm out. Claire laughed, hardly caring that Harry managed to take a hold of her wrist and pull her in. Unlike him – who made a gigantic splash as he tumbled down – Claire managed to get in a dive and dip in elegantly.

The coolness of the water did wake Harry up immediately and he sputtered out as he reached the surface, shaking his hair out with his clothes completely soaked. Claire was laughing as she quickly took the towel to throw it on the grass and get it out of the water.

“Oh my god!” Harry laughed, splashing water at Claire, who giggled. Harry flicked his eyes to their two boys who seemed unaware, chuckling as he shook his head, “You dick.”

Claire gasped in fake shock, “Are you cursing?”

Harry rolled his eyes as he swam back over to the side, pushing himself out of the pool. Claire was mesmerized for a second, watching the way his shirt clung to him. The muscles in his back bulged as he pushed himself up, showing off every ridge.

“Shit.” Harry chuckled, opening up the buttons of his shirt, “I can’t believe you pushed me in the pool. What are you, six?”

Claire grinned and also got out of the water, feeling Harry’s eyes on her as she wrung out her hair, “No, twenty-eight.”

“You wouldn’t say.”

Claire stuck out her tongue and Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Brat.” He scoffed, “’M gonna grab towels.” He turned around to head into the house, his pants soaking wet and his shirt off. The light reflected off his muscular back and Claire near drooled. Harry handed her another fluffy towel and both sat down on the sunbed.

“So around what time are you going to offer me a drink?” Claire teased and Harry hummed, “I don’t drink around Finn.”

“Well, ‘m not gonna get blind drunk but I wouldn’t say no to some pink wine.”

“Yeah, not blind drunk, just…” He shrugged, “I don’t want to give the wrong example.”

Claire leaned back on her hands, letting herself dry in the heat of the burning sun, “Having a drink every once in a while isn’t setting the wrong example, Harry. You’re an adult.” She shrugged, “I mean, it’s your own decision obviously, but it’s impossible to be responsible all the time around your child.”

“Responsible…” Harry mused, “Like remembering to pick them up from school?”

“Dick.” Claire chuckled, nudging her shoulder into his playfully. Harry grinned, staring at the pool as the boys played still. Harry had changed out of his pants and put on some swimming trunks this time, in case Claire decided to shove him in the pool again. His hair was wet and dripping down his back, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you again for that. Work just got… in the way.”

Harry turned his head to the side to watch her, “Don’t have to thank me again, that’s not why I said it. Was just making a joke.”

“I know.”

“You work a lot, don’t you? At Burger King?”

Claire exhaled a breath, “It’s not the most glamorous job and it doesn’t pay that much. But yes, I work a lot. I take a lot of shifts and often work weekends or late nights.”

“Is Atlas by himself when you work?”

“No,” Claire breathed, “I’m not that terrible of a mum.” Her voice held a hint of bitterness and she pressed her lips together, “There’s a young girl in my building who babysits for him. She’s like… seventeen maybe and she dropped out of school. She’s always available. The other mums said they’d seen her around to pick him up sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah…” Harry nodded, “like dark make-up, black hair?”

“Mhm, that’s Belle.”

“Isn’t it like… counter-productive? You have to pay her and then work while having to do so…”

“I earn more than whatever I have to pay her.” Claire mumbled, “Like I said, she’s not that expensive. I keep more than I have to give her.”

Harry nodded, “Right.” There was silence for a moment, “Look, ‘m sorry about giving you a hard time last week. I didn’t mean to like… shame you or anything.”

“No, I get it. It’s everyone’s first impression of me, trust me.” She chuckled, “That judgement is exactly why I pulled him out of his previous school, though. He heard people talking that I was never there, that I was leaving him on his own, that I wasn’t fit to be a parent. It’s painful because I’m really doing this all for him.”

Harry nodded again, listening to her. Claire fiddled with her fingers, “Like what he said about the pool earlier, you heard, right?"

“Mhm. I did.”

“Well, I want that too. I want to give him everything, I want him to have a nice childhood and I want to spend time with him. But I don’t have an education so I can’t really go for high-paying jobs. Just have to take what I can get and hope for flexible hours to be there for him.”

“You’re doing a lot, Claire.” Harry sympathized, “Seriously, ‘m sorry. I-I judged way too quick.”

“That’s fine.” She shot him a sly smile, “Happens when you’re old.”

Harry smiled and shook his head to himself, “And hey… I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you drop him off here whenever you have to work late or want some time for yourself? Finn and Atlas can spend time together, he could even stay the night if you want. And you don’t have to pay me.”

“What?” Claire frowned.

“I’m serious.” He shrugged, “It’s nice for Finn to have a friend. They’re joined at the hip.” Harry glanced over his shoulder to see both boys giggling together, a smile tugging on his lips, “I think they’d like it. He could eat here or I could grab him after school, bring him here. You can just come pick him up whenever you’re finished.”

Claire tilted her head to the side with a frown, “But… Don’t you have to work? Or go places?”

“Not really, to be honest.” Harry admitted, “I’m home all the time. A lot has changed since my divorce and I don’t have much of a social life anymore, just put Finn first. Wanted him to grow up with at least one present parent after all the arguing he had to witness as a baby. And I work for myself, got flexible hours. I work when he’s at school or when he goes to bed at night.”

Claire stared at him, “I-I mean… If you’re sure.”

“Of course.” Harry smiled, “Dead sure. You can even go on your dates on Saturday nights, or something.” He teased softly and Claire bit her lip, “You’re right. I can. I should text that guy to reschedule."

He hummed, “You can.” He then turned to face her, “So we’ve got a deal?”

Claire nibbled her lip, “And… you’d want nothing out of it?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, “Just doing it for Finn. And Atlas is a nice kid, Claire. He’s a good influence to bring Finn out of his shell.”

She smiled softly, her bubbly boy being a good influence made her so proud. “Okay. Then I guess we have a deal.”

They stupidly shook hands before bursting out in giggles. Claire hummed, bumping her shoulder into his again, “You’re not that bad, you know?”

“I know.” Harry playfully responded, “Neither are you."

“You’re the first mum-friend I’ve ever made in my life.”

“Oh god.” Harry groaned, “Don’t call me your mum-friend.”

Claire threw her head back in a laugh and Harry leaned back a little bit too, his eyes finally catching the ink on the back of Claire’s shoulder now that her hair dried a bit. He could see now, that it was a tattoo for Atlas. Literally a tattoo of Atlas, who carried the world. It was simple, and even a little disturbed with some dark bruises around it.

Harry swallowed, but decided not to comment on it.

***

“Hi, Harry!” Atlas bubbled as he waved at Harry. He was leaning against his car, sunglasses up his nose as he waved back, “Hi, bud.”

“Atlas!” Claire panted as she came running from across the street – having done another horrible parking job with her car. Harry smiled as she ran up to Atlas, crouching down to catch him in a hug. Atlas ran straight into her arms with a giggle and Claire hugged him, stroking his back, “Hi, baby. How was your day?”

“Good!” He smiled widely. Claire pressed a kiss to his cheek as she smiled.

“Bye Atlas! See you soon!” Finn’s voice sounded as he ran up to Harry, and Claire straightened up as she shot him a wave, “Oh, hi. Didn’t see you.”

Yeah, hey.” He smiled back, “Been here a while, I like to be early, Finn doesn’t like to wait.”

“Are you sure it’s still okay for tonight?”

He nodded, “Yep, ‘s fine.” Harry ruffled Atlas’ hair, “Gonna come over for a movie night, bud?”

“Can we watch Toy Story?!” Atlas excitedly gasped and Harry groaned a little under his breath, recovering quickly as he rolled his lips inside of her mouth, “Mhm.”

Claire chuckled, “Are you sure?” She softly asked him and Harry nodded again, “Positive, really. It’ll be fun.”

Her hair was up in a clip again, whisps of hair flying around. She wore a jumper even if it was boiling, and Harry could tell she was still wearing the Burger King shirt underneath, some of the muted brown sticking out of the neckline of her jumper. Claire took Atlas’ hand and waved at Harry and Finn, “See you tonight!”

“Bye!” Harry waved back, and Finn did too. As Harry urged Finn into the backseat, Dolores walked up to him. With her fresh bob-cut and perfect make-up, she sent him a smile, “Hi, Harry.”

“Dolores.” He nodded. She eyed him up and down, “Did I overhear you talking to Claire for a moment there?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded, “Mhm.” There was no point in lying about it, all eyes had been on them just a minute before. His eyes flicked to the other side of the street where Claire slammed her car door to drive off, not putting on her blinkers before she sped off. He wanted to roll his eyes at her driving behaviour but also knew he was super extreme with his careful driving.

“You know…” Dolores lowered her voice and came a little closer as Harry closed Finn’s car door. He straightened up and Dolores shortly glanced around, “There has been some talk. You know, a new mum… people always talk.” She shrugged as if it was the most normal thing. Harry stiffly nodded, “Naturally.” He vividly remembered all the gossip when word got around about what happened between him and Astrid.

“And well,” Dolores tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Natalie heard that Claire has a past in drug abuse.” She was near whispering now, “And that she was married to a dealer.”

Harry let out a soft sigh, “Right.” He hardly listened, if he was honest. He knew better. Word got around quickly here, but everything got changed and manipulated. He knew better than to believe everything he heard around this town.

Dolores cleared her throat, “And that she was using while being pregnant. That poor boy… I mean, it’s clear that he’s got ADHD, and that could be a result of her abusing drugs while pregnant.”

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, “Dolores,” He sighed, “even if it’s true, who cares? It’s her life and it’s been six years since she was pregnant. Let’s not meddle.” He simply spoke, forcing her a small smile.

“I’m just warning you,” Dolores put her hand on Harry’s arm and he flicked his eyes down to the touch with a frown in his forehead. Dolores swallowed, “She’s around Finn, Harry. Think about the influence…”

Harry cleared his throat and pulled his arm away, walking around his car to get behind the wheel, “Bye, Dolores.”

She opened her mouth to say more, but Harry was already in his car with the door closed. He didn’t spare her another glance before he drove off.

A few hours later, someone rang his door. Claire was fiddling with the top button of her dress as she waited for Harry to open his door. Atlas was by her side, excited for his movie night here as she had rescheduled with her date for tonight.

She was sort of excited, it had been a while since she had gone out. Her work schedule didn’t allow her to and she wanted to spend most nights with Atlas. Knowing he wasn’t just in the apartment with Belle scrolling on her phone, but was spending time with his friends eased her guilt a little of leaving him alone.

The lock clicked as Harry appeared, flashing a grin at Atlas, “Hey!”

“Hi, Harry!” He grinned back before turning to Claire, “Bye, mummy!!” He hardly waited for her response before sprinting into the house he knew rather well by now. Claire chuckled, “Yeah, bye. Love you too.”

Harry leaned against the doorpost, shortly scanning her outfit. He was used to seeing Claire either in her Burger King outfit or in jeans and a shirt. Now, she wore a dress. And make-up. It was clear to him she was making an effort. The slippers on her feet made his brows raise though, “Is he super short or something?” He nudged his head towards her feet.

Claire followed his eyes, “Oh, no, I don’t think so. I just can’t drive in heels so I’ll switch my shoes when I arrive.” She explained, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder, “By the way, if I’m done before midnight, I’m coming back over to pick him up.”

“In the middle of the night?” Harry frowned.

“Yeah, we sort of have our morning routing, Atlas and I. So I prefer picking him up and letting him sleep the rest of the night in his own bed. What time do you usually go to bed?”

Harry scratched his chin, “Yeah, around midnight.”

“Okay, but I’ll text you. Maybe he sucks and I’ll be back in an hour.”

His lips curled up in an amused smirk, “What’re dealbreakers to you, Claire?”

“I’d love to go over the list with you,” She grabbed a lipstick from her purse and blindly put it on, painting them a soft cherry red before rubbing them together, “but I’m going to be late if we get into that.”

Harry’s eyes zeroed in on Claire’s lips and he huffed out a chuckle, “Fine. Well, have fun. Be safe. Let me know when you’d come pick up Atlas.”

“Will do! Thank you.” Claire spun on her heel and headed back to her car, driving off the driveway to head to her date. Harry watched, feeling only slightly wary of her going by car instead of being picked up. He wondered if she’d drink during dinner and then drive, picking up Atlas to drive with him.

Dolores’ words ran through his head over and over again before he shook his head to himself and headed inside.

He checked his phone a few times, but Claire was actually having an okay time on her date. The guy who worked at the lawyer firm was charming and showed up in a suit. A bit stiff, Claire thought. And she was definitely underdressed. Her black dress looked classy but was cheap as fuck, and the buttons around her chest seemed near ready to pop.

His eyes were drawn to her tits most of the time as he drank the one scotch after the other. Their conversations started pleasantly and Claire got it out of the way first, immediately notifying him of the fact she had a six year-old son. He hadn’t responded much to it, just hummed and said it was cool.

As the evening progressed, Claire got a bit of an ick though. He seemed to talk mostly about herself and when he ended up not asking one single question about Atlas, Claire decided for herself that this was not it. He was near drunk once they finished their dinner and headed outside. He sloppily tried to kiss her and she turned him down, even having to stifle her laugh when he casually suggested they hook up just once.

He also called her a prude when she refused. Rolling her eyes, Claire got in her car. Before driving off, she quickly texted Harry.

Message to: Harry (Finn’s dad)

Coming back from the restaurant now, I’ll be there in twenty.

It was nowhere near midnight, but just past ten thirty in the evening. Claire had only been on her date a good few hours but it had felt like forever. With the window down, she drove up to Harry’s house again after another disappointing night. It had been the one shitty date after the other in the past few months.

Most lights in the house seemed off as Claire pulled up, getting out in her slippers and softly knocking on the door as to not alert the sleeping children. She heard footsteps, and soon Harry opened up. He looked a little sleepy and Claire suspected he had dozed off on the couch before she texted him that she was coming back.

“Hi.” She bit her lip, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

He stifled a yawn, “You didn’t. Put the boys to bed not too long ago and I was reading a little bit.” He opened the door wider for her, “Come in. How was the date?”

“Horrible.” Claire huffed, following him into the kitchen. Harry hummed, “Want some coffee? Or water? There’s also some dinner leftover if you want.”

“It actually smells so good in here.” Claire hummed, “If you’ve got any left, I’d like to.”

“Sure, I’ll heat some up. Tell me about the guy.”

Claire pushed herself up to sit on the countertop, “Well, he was just…” She shrugged, “Boring. And arrogant. He only talked about himself, was just overall rude and he drank so much, god… I hope he didn’t yet have to drive.”

Harry smiled softly at her words as he put a plate in the microwave. “How responsible of you.” He teased, repeating the words from last week that she had mocked him with. Claire smiled and rolled her eyes, “Hey, I have morals.”

“Hm.” Harry hummed, remembering Dolores’ words again. He turned around, “Here you go. Atlas really liked it.”

“Holy shit. Did you make this yourself?”

“Think I’ve got some private chef here, Claire?”

She shrugged, “Honestly, yes.” Her fork poked into a piece of chicken as she stuffed it in her mouth.

“Nah, I’m quite an okay cook. I like cooking actually.” Harry went to sit on the opposite countertop, his legs dangling over the edge as they were in the dimly lit kitchen, “Go on now, tell me five positive things about the date.”

“Five?” Claire’s eyes widened, “Uh…” She chewed for a bit, “well, one… he paid. So that was nice.” She narrowed her eyes in thought and Lennon chuckled softly, “Only one?”

“No, no, wait, let me think.” Claire shook her head, “Oh, well, he didn’t shame me when I wanted to have dessert. And when I said I had a kid, he said it was cool.”

“Cool?” Harry frowned, “That’s supposed to be a positive thing? The bar is very low.”

“It’s on the floor, let’s be honest.”

“So I assume it’s safe to say there won’t be a second date.”

Claire scrunched her nose, “Definitely not. He tried to kiss me and suggested sex.”

Harry’s brows raised, “Seriously? Bold.”

“You’d be surprised, dating isn’t the same as it was ten years ago.”

He hummed, “Apparently. Thank god I don’t have to go through that.” He shook his head to himself. He knew it could be brutal out there. Hell, Astrid had made it brutal for him. The thought of her left his stomach in clenches and he quickly pushed it all away.

“Harry, this is really good. Wow.” Claire near moaned as she ate more food and Harry smiled, “Thanks.” He felt proud at her compliment and shyly glanced down. Claire swallowed her bite, “So what did you three do tonight?”

“Watched Toy Story. Twice.”

Claire sputtered out a giggle, “No way.”

“Atlas is quite persuasive.” Harry chuckled, “But I was reading a little throughout. They were nice and quiet though, had some popcorn. They wanted to swim but I said no.”

“Stern.” Claire nodded and Harry shrugged, “Some might say, yes.”

Claire crossed her legs over one another and leaned back, “So… I’m curious. If you never go on a date, how long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

Harry chuckled to himself while shaking his head, “Nope. None of your business.”

Claire shrugged, “Fair enough.”

They sat in silence for a bit until Claire decided to head home. Harry guided her up the stairs to show the spare room where Atlas was sleeping. He was dazed until he laid eyes on his mum, a wide grin spreading over his face. Claire carried him downstairs and gently put him in the car before thanking Harry again and driving off.

***

“Thank you so much for watching him.” Claire breathed as she was at the door in her Burger King outfit. She looked exhausted, Harry noticed. Her hair was a little messy and she had bags under her eyes. It was a Thursday and almost a week after she had dropped Atlas off here to go on her date.

He hadn’t seen much of her throughout the week, or just shortly to pick up Atlas after school. Today, she had to pick up another shift so Harry took Atlas home after school to hang out with Finn.

“’S no problem.” Harry shrugged, “I’ve told you, Atlas is a nice kid to have around. He’s polite.”

“Yeah.” Claire tiredly smiled, “Can you go grab him?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, “Mhm. Or – uh… we were just about to have dinner. You can join if you want.”

“That’s really nice,” Claire sighed, “but you’re already doing way too much for us. And I desperately need to shower.”

“I have showers.” He shrugged.

“Showers? Multiple?”

He chuckled, “Yes. C’mon,” he urged her, nodding his head inside the house, “it’ll be nice for the boys.”

It’s what he went with. That it was nice for the boys. Really trying to ignore the fact that it’d be nice for him too. Claire was easy to talk to and not as uptight or fake like all the other mums in the school. She was blunt and unapologetic, but very straightforward and without bullshit. He appreciated that now, whereas he didn’t at first.

She was trying her best, he could see that.

Claire eventually caved, nodding her head. She wore that horrific Burger King fit and Harry showed her where everything was in the bathroom, handing her a pair of joggers and a shirt of his.

The four of them sat around the dinner table later, with Claire only being slightly uncomfortable at how underdressed and casual she was. The clothes Harry handed her felt nice and soft, but she wasn’t used to having dinner in pyjamas with wet hair laying on her back and with anyone else besides Atlas.

“I have a question,” Harry popped, narrowing his eyes at Claire, “Do you ever eat burgers?”

She chuckled, shaking her head, “Absolutely not. Can’t stand burgers anymore. Besides, I see how they’re made and let me tell you… it’s a big no. I’m in the smell of it all day and I just…” She shuddered, “Nope.”

They fell silent again with just Finn and Atlas whispering something to one another until Finn nodded and cleared his throat, “Claire?” He spoke in a small, soft voice. Claire swallowed her bite and turned, “Yes?”

Finn looked a little nervous, shifting in his chair as he put his fork down and a slight flush rose over his cheeks, “Atlas said I could come to your house.”

Claire frowned slightly, shortly flicking her eyes to Atlas before clearing her throat, “I’m… what?”

“We always come here. I want to show Finn where we live.” Atlas piped up. Claire felt her cheeks heating up a little bit in embarrassment as she stared at her plate. Harry hummed, “That could be fun. Maybe we could all have dinner at your place?”

Claire licked her lip, refusing to look him in the eye, “That’s…well, that’s not possible. I-I don’t have a table that can fit four people.” She mumbled softly. Her shoulders slumped a little bit and Harry paused mid-chew to watch her as she kept her eyes on the food in her plate.

“Atlas, baby, we don’t really have the room for you and Finn to play the way you can here, right?” She softly spoke to her son.

Atlas pouted and Claire forced him a small smile, “Maybe some other time, yeah?”

“But I want to show him where we live.” Atlas murmured in a trembling voice, nearly on the verge of tears. Claire turned to him and kept her voice soft, “I know. But you know how mummy always says we won’t live there for too long? Because it’s so small and loud and dark?” She near whispered to Atlas, who nodded and sniffled once, “Well, maybe we should wait until we live somewhere nicer.”

“Are you poor?” Finn’s voice sounded curious and Claire’s eyes widened.

“Finn!” Harry scolded in shock, “You can’t ask people that!”

Finn looked completely horrified at the sudden volume his father used to talk to him. He stared at Harry with large, green eyes and even his lip was trembling, “B-But Atlas comes to school with dirty clothes.” He near whispered, sounding nervous. Claire’s stomach dropped and Finn sniffled again, “And we share my lunch because he’s still hungry after his.”

“Stop!” Harry snapped, his fist coming down on the table. Finn jumped up with a gasp in surprise and then burst into tears, scrambling from the table to run off. Claire held her breath as she stared at Harry, his fist clenched as he exhaled a sharp breath, “Shit.” He grumbled under his breath.

Claire swallowed and turned to Atlas, “Do you want to go check up on Finn, baby? Tell him his daddy’s not mad at him and neither am I? That we’re all okay?”

Atlas also seemed surprised with Harry’s outburst and timidly nodded before leaving the table to find Finn in the house. The moment he was out of sight, tears spilled from Claire’s eyes. She turned her head away from Harry, hiding it as she hastily wiped underneath her eyes. Her fingers trembled, repeating in her head what Finn had said.

That Atlas showed up with dirty clothes to school and not enough lunch, to the point he was still hungry and ate from the other kid’s lunchboxes.

“Claire.” Harry exhaled and she ignored him, her brain spinning. She was trying so hard. And all this time, she thought she had been doing good. That Atlas was at least happy even if they didn’t have all that much. But people talked, and soon enough the same thing would happen like it had done in his three previous schools. Word would get around, parents would tell their kids not to hang out with him and he’d be bullied.

Harry scooted his chair closer to hers, “Claire,” He repeated, “look at me.”

She pressed her lips together and flicked her eyes up. Harry noticed the wetness in her waterline, the red rimming around her lids. She was exhausted and sad, and it was written all over her face. He wasn’t sure what to do, so gently patted her knee, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” She shook her head, “it’s not his fault. I just – uh… I didn’t know.” She simply shrugged, staring down again, “We’re always in such a hurry in the mornings a-and I just grab whatever clothes of his I can find. And sometimes I don’t have time to do laundry in the weekends. And I swear, he fucking grows all the time, it’s like I have to buy new shirts every other week.” She tiredly scratched her forehead.

Harry listened to her soft rambling and Claire shook her head, “He’s never complained.” Her voice was a little raspy, “about being hungry, or not having enough food. He’s never mentioned it to me.”

“I’m sure Finn was exaggerating.” Harry murmured back, holding his hand on her knee now to give a gentle squeeze, “It maybe happened once. He’s an energized kid who eats a lot, I’ve noticed it here too. I’m sure that if he truly was hungry after lunch every single day, he would’ve told you. You guys are close, right?”

“Yeah.” Claire nodded, “He usually tells me everything.”

“See? I’m sure it’s not that bad. And so what he has a stain on his shirt? He’s a wild kid, always playing and running around… he’s bound to fuck up his clothes.”

Claire listened to him and really tried to hear him, but fresh tears welled in her eyes, “I’m really trying, Harry.” Her tone was shaky and he cooed, “I know. Fuck, I know. I can see it first-hand.”

“Shit.” Claire murmured as she buried her face in her hands and her shoulders trembled in quiet sobs. Harry squeezed her knee and then moved his hand up to her shoulder, “Hey, c’mere.” He urged her to stand up and Claire did so, letting herself be pulled into his chest for a hug. Her forehead was pressed to his clavicle as she sobbed into him, Harry’s arms rubbing up her back to comfort her and shush her softly.

“You’re doing incredible, Claire. And Atlas loves you so much.” He held her body to his, feeling as she weakly cried, both in exhaustion and in feeling powerless. It was a few minutes later that Harry swallowed, “And if you ever need help with money or anything…” He knew the moment he said it, that she’d refuse.

Claire sniffled and shook her head while being pressed to him, “We’ll be fine.”

“O-Or maybe your parents or something?”

“They cut me off. I haven’t been in contact with them since they knew I was pregnant.” Her voice was soft and Harry pressed his lips together, giving her another squeeze, “And doesn’t your ex need to pay? For Atlas?”

Claire sighed out into his neck, “You’d think so. The lawyers are working on it because he refuses to pay. But those things take so long, I’m not even hopeful anymore I’ll ever see a dime.”

It made Harry hate him even more. He had heard little bits about Evan, Atlas’ dad, from Finn. Not much, nothing detailed, just that Atlas didn’t see him that much and that he lived in the area. Any piece of information that Harry found out, made his blood boil. He couldn’t understand how he wouldn’t make an effort to hang out with Atlas, who was such a fun little boy to be around. Harry found there was nothing more satisfying than watching his son grow up and he couldn’t imagine missing it for the life of him.

“Well, you can always ask me. I won’t question it.” Harry concluded and Claire sniffled, “Thank you.”

They stood embraced for another good few minutes until Claire untangled herself, “I’m fine.” She took a breath, through most of her crying as she shot Harry an unconvincing smile, “I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” He nodded.

***

Message from: Claire

He’s wearing boat shoes. I don’t know what to do.

Harry chuckled at the screen of his phone as Finn had his head laying in his lap. Atlas was curled up in the couch too, eyes glued to the screen as they were having another Friday movie night. And Claire was out on a date.

It was nearing November now, and their little deal had been going on for a few months. Claire didn’t go out every weekend, but at least every other weekend. And Harry took Atlas here for the night to hang out with Finn so she could go on her date.

It was safe to say that it usually wasn’t that big of a success. Claire would text him underneath the table about all the horrible things they’d say or do and then come here to pick up Atlas. It resulted in at least an hour of gossiping and laughing before she eventually left and he’d watch her drive off in the darkness of the night.

Message to: Claire.

What colour are they?

His phone soon buzzed with a response.

Message from: Claire.

Who cares!! We’re in the city, not on a fucking boat!

Harry laughed again, shaking his head to himself as he stroked his fingers through Finn’s hair. He had a book next to him but found himself almost more interested in the movie playing. Tangled. It wasn’t half bad, to be honest.

Harry hardly noticed it as Atlas crawled closer to him until bumping his head into Harry’s bicep. He glanced to his side to see the blonde-haired little boy with half-tired eyes, cuddled into a blanket.

Harry hesitated for a moment before opening his arm and Atlas didn’t wait a second, simply nuzzled into Harry’s side with a content sigh. Harry’s heart felt full, with Atlas cuddled into him on one side and Finn resting on his lap. He gently stroked his fingers over Atlas’ head and the boy melted into him even more. There was trust here, after weeks and weeks of spending time together. Atlas was incredible, Harry had come to find out. He was clever and witty, making Finn laugh louder than Harry had ever heard.

Atlas was definitely more on the mischievous side where Finn was rather timid and quiet, but they compensated the other very well. And had grown to be very close friends.

Harry’s phone buzzed softly.

Message from: Claire.

Okay, I’m out of here. He just asked how much I make a month and if I can get him free burgers.

Harry snorted softly and typed back.

Message to: Claire.

Yeah, sounds like your cue to leave. You can catch the final bit of the movie if you’re lucky.

The movie progressed and before Harry truly and well realized it, the three of them were dozed off on the couch. Only when he heard the soft footsteps in the house – after he had showed Claire where he kept the spare key – did his eyes blink open.

Claire watched him with an amused smile, eyes darting over Atlas and Finn who were both asleep on parts of his body.

“This is cute.” She whispered. Harry yawned softly, “Sorry, fell asleep.”

“I can see that.” She sat down on the couch next to Atlas and stroked his back, “Baby?”

Atlas nuzzled further into Harry and Claire shook her head with a smile, “He’s taking the moment to his advantage.”

“He can’t cuddle you like that?”

“No,” Claire exhaled, “hurts my boobs.”

Harry chuckled, “Right. So I take it the date wasn’t a success?”

“A big fat no.” Claire sighed, “God, where am I supposed to meet a decent guy these days. I swear, every app I have downloaded has only lead me to horrible evenings like this. Maybe I should just stay single forever.”

“Yeah, come over to the dark side. It’s fun here.” Harry joked and Claire leaned back in the couch. She wore a sundress with sleeves tonight, pushing it a little in these rather cold temperatures. But Harry had yet to see her in pants whenever she went on a date, it was always a dress.

“So boat shoes…” Harry mused and Claire groaned, “I know.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t flip-flops. Like that guy you went out with a few weeks back.”

“Am I supposed to see the silver lining here?”

Harry smiled and it was quiet for a moment, “You want a drink? Or some food?”

Claire yawned, “No, thanks. I think we’re just going to go home.”

“Really?” His voice jumped a little, “I mean,” Harry shrugged while clearing his throat, “you could stay a bit. Or sleep in the guest room with Atlas. He’s asleep anyway.”

“Harry,” Claire laughed, “I know we’re friends but we’re a bit too old for sleepovers, no?”

Friends.

Well, that hurt.

Harry didn’t protest when Claire gently woke Atlas up, who immediately cuddled into her instead. She kissed his forehead, “Wanna go home?”

“Mhm.” He sleepily responded. Claire picked him up, wincing a bit at the ache in her back. Atlas weighed a bit too much to still be carried by her, but he was too sleepy. Harry gently nudged Finn off, who didn’t wake and rested on a pillow instead, before he let Claire and Atlas out.

“Bye.” He waved in a whisper and Claire waved back once she put Atlas in the passenger seat, “Bye!”

Harry groaned to himself once Claire was out of sight. Friends. Friends. God damn it. He knew it. He had let it go on for too long and now he was friendzoned. He was literally her mum-friend, the one she gossiped to about other guys. Holy fuck.

Harry ran his palms over his face and sighed out, picking up Finn from the couch to carry him to bed and then go to sleep himself.

With the colder temperatures approaching, the next few weeks consisted of thicker clothes and spending less time outside. It got a bit harder for Harry to entertain the boys as they couldn’t go in the pool or play outside too much. It was basically waiting for snow now.

December just rolled in and Harry was sitting in his car, waiting for Finn to be done with school and to take him home. He used to always wait outside his car but it was too cold now, so he waited inside. His eyes scanned the street in search of Claire’s old Toyota. They had seen each other on Friday after she came back from another date, dressed in heels, stockings and a skirt. It was a cute look on her, accentuating her figure.

She said it wasn’t horrible this time but there wasn’t really a connection there, so it would stick to the one date. Harry hummed at that, and he couldn’t really say he minded all that much. He found himself looking forward to her texts, or the moments she’d come home after another disappointment of a date, spilling to him. Even if he was in the friend zone, it still cheered him up to see her.

Dare he say, it was the highlight of his week right now.

So he scanned the streets, not seeing her car. Not when the bell rang and the children were let out. Harry exited his car, a wide grin on his face as Finn ran over to him excitedly.

“Hi, m’love.” Harry crouched down to take Finn into a hug, spotting a blonde head of hair in the corner of his eye. He patted Finn on the shoulder, “Do we need to take Atlas home today?”

Finn shook his head, “No, he said someone’s picking him up.”

Harry frowned slightly, scanning the line of parents until he spotted Atlas, walking over to a girl with black hair and a cigarette between her fingers. She hardly paid him attention and his head was a little low. Soon enough, they made way to the bus station and disappeared from sight.

Harry refrained from texting Claire that night. It could be crossing a line, asking if she was okay. They had never really done that before and usually texted in a very casual way or to discuss picking up Atlas.

He didn’t see her the remainder of the week and it was nearing Christmas break now. Although Harry vowed to never pull his kid into this, he couldn’t help himself but question Finn on Friday.

“So… Are you sad that Atlas hasn’t been here all week?” He asked as they were having dinner, just the two of them.

Finn shrugged. He wasn’t a kid to speak out of line, which is why the poor-comment he made about Claire shocked Harry so much. He had raised Finn to be very polite and respectful. He had taught him that whenever a friend told him a secret, he were to keep it to build an keep the trust. It’s why he felt like guilty now, prying.

“He said it’s busy at home.” Finn answered and Harry flicked his eyes to him, “Busy?”

“Mhm.” Finn nodded, “With his mummy. He says she’s not feeling too well so he stays with her.”

Harry slowly nodded, “That’s nice of him.”

“It is.” Finn agreed.

Silence fell over the dinner table and Harry cringed at himself, unable to let the topic go, “Did Finn mention why Claire’s feeling a little poorly?”

Finn softly shrugged as he poked his food, “He says her face hurts.”

Harry near dropped his fork, stomach twisting in discomfort as he heard the words coming from Finn’s mouth. He softly cleared his throat, “Her face hurts?”

Finn was more interested in his food, simply nodding as he continued eating and Harry finally dropped it. He had a pretty clear idea as to why Claire’s face would hurt. He tightly gripped his fork, staring at his phone on the table in contemplation whether or not to text her. If it was crossing a line.

They had known each other for months now but never really dipped into that part of their friendship – as Claire would call it. Their talks were mostly playful or consisting of their children. They didn’t actually know much about one another on a personal level, they never had conversations like that and Harry wasn’t sure if this was pushing it or not.

So he left it at that. And a few days later, she reached out to him. Claire texted him, saying a guy asked her out on a date on Friday, asking him if it was okay if Atlas stayed the evening and if Harry had the time.

He responded faster than ever, immediately agreeing. Even though the idea that she was going on a date gnawed at him and he was searching high and low for the courage to ask her out himself – it still made his chest flutter that he was going to see her and talk to her.

The gnawing feel overpowered though, especially when he opened his door and she was there in a silk mini dress with tights and a dark purple loose cardigan over her shoulders to keep her warm. The cold was biting and even to drop Atlas off, Harry shortly invited her in.

Only when she was in the lights of the kitchen, could he take a decent look at her.

“Holy shit, what the hell happened to your face?” Was the first thing flying out of his mouth. Luckily for Harry, both Finn and Atlas were out of earshot. Claire exhaled and tilted her head to the side, “Is it really that obvious? I thought I covered it.”

She looked at him with big, round eyes. Her blonde hair was in soft waves laying over her back and all he could really see was the bruise on her cheekbone. He could tell it had faded and had gone towards a muted purple colour with hints of green. He could also see the layer of make-up she had put on over that.

“It’s… I mean, I can tell, yeah. It looks like a shadow.” He explained. Claire sighed, “Great. That guy’s gonna think I’m some crazy woman.”

“What happened?” Harry asked again. Claire took a moment and forced him a smile as she tried to busy herself with the strap of her bag, “Just me being clumsy.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “I don’t believe that for a second. Why did you have Belle pick up Atlas every single day this week?”

“Because I was working and couldn’t do it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged, “So? You could’ve asked me. Been doing it for the past few months with pleasure, so why relay on Belle again?”

“She asked, said she could use the money.” Claire shrugged and Harry huffed, “That doesn’t sound like you. Seems unlikely.”

“Yeah, I’m just that much of a bitch, aren’t I?” She responded bitterly, shaking her head to herself, “I don’t know what the big deal is. You got a week free of me and Atlas.”

“Didn’t ask for a week free of either you or Atlas. Neither did Finn.” It sounded like a dig, and Claire flicked her eyes up in shock of his words. They sounded venomous and angry, as if Finn had been unhappy this week without Atlas here in the evenings, and it was Claire’s fault. Harry continued, “Besides, I think the real reason wasn’t you being a nice person to Belle. I think the real reason was that you didn’t want me or Finn to see you with your face beaten up, which is why you hid all week.”

His voice softened and Claire’s stare hardened too. She inhaled a shaky breath, trying to recompose herself even if her heart was hammering violently and she could feel the lump in her throat.

“I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Harry.” She murmured, “If a person shows up with bruises and you have a feeling they’re not telling you the truth, there’s a reason for that. Don’t fucking pry it out of me like that, and why on earth do you even think you have the right or the audacity to do so? I don’t owe you any sort of explanation.”

He opened his mouth but she cut him off, “No, I don’t want to fucking hear it. You don’t get a free pass into my personal life just because my son likes you and we’re acquainted.”

It had gone from friends to acquaintances now. Harry felt the jab to his chest, knowing he had fucked up tremendously. Claire was breathing heavily as she sniffled once, “Now, I’m going to go on a date and attempt to enjoy it. I’ll see you later.” She strode past him and didn’t wait for Harry to let her out. The door slammed harshly until the pictures of Astrid and Finn on the walls rattled and Harry was left in silence.

He sat brooding that night. Checking his phone constantly for updates. Claire’s dates had never been this quiet. Usually she at least texted him when she arrived to let him know what the guy was wearing. There’d be texts throughout if her date said something disgusting or stupid, and at the end of the night to update him on if they had split the check or not.

It had been hours and there hadn’t been anything. With each buzz, he hastily grabbed his phone only to find it was either his mum or some notification of an e-mail he didn’t care for. His leg bobbed impatiently as he sat through another movie night with Finn and Atlas. And there was nothing that could take his mind off of things.

So when he had put the boys to bed and sat down on the couch again to check his phone, it was still empty. He drew up a message to send her but deleted it again, realizing his apologies would never come across through text while she was out with another man. He had to tell her in person, so he forced himself to stay awake.

Claire never came.

She never texted him, she simply never showed up. Harry stayed up for a few hours until midnight passed and then one in the morning, and then two in the morning. His lids felt droopy before he dragged himself to bed with the harsh realization that Claire was spending the night with her date.

He knew. She’d never go home to sleep by herself and leave Atlas here. She always picked him up. The only reason she wouldn’t pick him up, is if she was sleeping with him at his house or in a hotel room.

She was getting fucked, having sex, and Harry knew it.

The dates in the past hadn’t bothered him that much because they always ended up being assholes or losers and Claire was never truly interested in any of them. She never minded that there wasn’t a second date and simply kept swiping on Tinder until finding someone else.

In all the months they had been doing this, she had never spent the night with someone. It made Harry’s chest sink so deep that it hurt. It physically hurt, knowing she was with someone else. Who got to kiss her, touch her, smell her and taste her. Hear her, feel her, be inside of her.

His fists balled as he suddenly couldn’t catch sleep after that realization. He was so fucking jealous.

Harry hardly slept, but when his phone buzzed at around eight in the morning, he was wide awake.

Message from: Claire.

I’ll be there in like ten minutes.

He jolted up in bed and hastily went into the bathroom to freshen up and brush his teeth. Both boys were still asleep but Harry didn’t know for how long. He rushed down the stairs to be there for when she arrived, and like clockwork he heard gentle taps against the door.

He saw her and it only confirmed his suspicions. Her face was free of make-up and her hair was in a bun, but she was wearing the same clothes as the night before. The bruise was more prominent now with the absence of make-up, but what he could see was a fresh bruise. In the form of a lovebite at the base of her neck. It wasn’t that deep or dark, but he noticed straightaway.

Harry cleared his throat, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Claire mumbled, “Is Atlas up yet?”

“He’s not. D’you want to come in? I’ll make some coffee.”

Claire hesitated and eventually followed him inside of the familiar house. She sat down on the barstool she had been sitting in that first time she spent the day here and Harry had his back to her, working his coffee machine.

He swallowed through the lump in his throat, “So I take it you had a good date?”

“You could say that.” Claire breathed. Harry pressed his lips together, keeping his back to her. Claire cleared her throat, “We’re actually going out again next week.”

He turned around in lightning speed, “What?”

Claire blinked, “We’re going out again next week.” She repeated in a soft voice. Harry felt his fingers tightly gripping the countertop, “Like… like a second date?”

“Mhm.”

His knees weakened and he felt the stinging behind his lids, quickly turning around again to face the coffee machine, “That’s great.”

“It is.” Claire agreed, “He’s nice.”

They fell into silence and Harry poured her a cup of coffee as Claire drew a breath, “I can ask Belle, you know? To watch him. Next week.”

Harry immediately shook his head, “No way. Besides, it’s Christmas break. I’m sure Belle will want to do something else than babysit. And I don’t mind. We’re going to set up the tree, I’m sure Atlas will like that.”

“He will.” Claire nodded, “He’s been wanting a tree for a long time. We don’t have room in the apartment.”

Harry flicked his eyes to her, “Right.”

She forced him a smile and they fell into silence again. Harry realized he had never heard silence quite this fucking loud.

***

The week moved agonizingly slow. Claire showed up at school again, her bruise now faded. She picked up Atlas and shot a brief smile to Harry and Finn before spending the evening with her little man.

They cuddled and played board games, even some video games. It was always a task to entertain Atlas during school breaks. Claire couldn’t stay away from work so she usually organized camps for him or he spent a little more time with his father.

Not this time. Claire refused. She didn’t mind finding sitters and paying for them as long as Atlas didn’t spend any more time with Evan than absolutely necessary.

The had realized, after last weekend. After Atlas witnessed the abuse Evan put her through, that she would do everything in her power to keep him away. She wanted to give Evan a chance to be a father to Atlas, but he let him down over and over again. And mostly, Claire didn’t want Atlas to look up to Evan. And inherit some of his less nice qualities, like hitting women.

She couldn’t even imagine – and the thought made her sick – that Atlas would grow up to be like his father. It had resulted in more calls with her lawyer because she was getting slightly desperate for the money Evan owed her.

What had been taking her mind off things, was the prospect of her second date with Alexander. He had been an absolute sweetheart during their first date, so much so that Claire had felt butterflies. She opened up about Atlas and life as a single mum, and he was one of the first who didn’t laugh at her when she said she worked at Burger King. He noticed the bruise but didn’t ask her about it, besides wondering if she was in any pain.

She was, after a moment, from smiling so wide. So he gently kissed her at the end of the night and things got heated. Claire didn’t hesitate when he asked her to come to his apartment and they had spent a night between the sheets. Alexander had some stuff to learn, but Claire could be patient and guide him so he could learn how to satisfy her. She had searched high and low for an orgasm all night while giving him two, but it still didn’t mean it wasn’t fun.

Harry’s eyes had felt heavy on her when she went to drop Atlas off. Claire knew she looked good. She wore black again, a form-fitting dress to show off her curves with high heels to elevate her. She wore a bit of make-up but nothing too crazy and her hair was pinned back with a little butterfly clip.

His eyes had dragged up and down her form, boosting Claire’s confidence tremendously. She could see the heaviness in his eyes as they made a bit of polite small talk. She knew he was sorry about the way he spoke to her the week prior and she knew he didn’t like the fact she was going on a second date with Alexander.

She saw it in his stance, in his eyes. Jealousy. It was fine, Claire felt. Her and Harry did spent a lot of time together and even she’d feel a slight jab to her chest if he’d suddenly announce he was dating someone. In some stupid, crazy way it almost felt like they both had a claim on one another. But neither said anything and Claire wasn’t patient. Maybe she was taunting him, and part of her was. The dates in the past few months had all been disappointing and she expected the date with Alexander to be the same.

But he pleasantly surprised her and Claire had fun and felt seen. After the way Harry had spoken to her, it’s what she needed. And she couldn’t sit and wait around for him to figure out his feelings. She was moving on.

Moving on wasn’t easy though when your date doesn’t show up.

Claire looked like an idiot, sitting alone at the table in the restaurant. She checked her watch again, noticing Alexander was forty minutes late. She had double-checked their reservation to make sure she got the time and date right. She had texted him, called him, without answer. Her texts didn’t even go through, making her think he had her blocked.

She sipped slowly on her red wine until she had been there an hour, and she decided enough was enough. It was nine in the evening when she asked for the check to pay for her wine. The waiter shot her a sympathetic look that Claire brushed off, and she exited the restaurant.

Driving back to Harry’s house, she hadn’t notified him. She had only dropped Atlas off about an hour and a half ago and she suspected the three of them to just be sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

Claire shivered in the evening air as the had rang the door, hearing the familiar footsteps of Harry rushing over to the door before opening up with a frown. It softened at the sight of her. He hadn’t expected Claire here, an hour after she had left. The exciting glint she had in her eyes when leaving, was replaced by something he couldn’t really place.

“What happened?” He asked and Claire shrugged, fighting the embarrassed flush in her cheeks, “He stood me up.” She mumbled under her breath, “Can you grab Atlas? I really want to go home.”

“He stood you up?” Harry frowned, “What the fuck?”

Claire rolled her eyes, “Harry, it’s nothing. I’d just like to leave.”

“We’re in the middle of Monopoly.” He exhaled, “Look, just come in for a bit, you must be freezing.”

Claire hesitated. All she really wanted to do was go home with Atlas and cry in her shower before cuddling him to sleep. Harry opened the door wider, ushering her in, “Come on.”

And so she did. Her feet carried her into the house, met with the familiar warmth that Harry’s house exuded.

“Mummy!” Atlas sounded exited at the sight of his mother, jumping out of his chair to hug her. Claire smiled and kissed his forehead, “Hi, bub. ‘M back soon, aren’t I?”

Atlas giggled and jumped around, clearly very pleased with Claire joining the Monopoly-party.

“D’you want some tea? Or wine?” Harry offered.

“Wine.” Claire breathed immediately and Harry nodded, taking two glasses and filling them with some red wine as Finn and Atlas filled Claire in on how the game was going so far. She didn’t seem too in it with her head but nodded either way, quickly catching up on Harry’s strategy on losing on purpose to let either of the other boys win.

Claire followed along, playing without thinking and losing on purpose. Her wine was finished by the time Finn was crowned as the Monopoly-king.

As Finn and Atlas quickly settled down in front of the television, Claire and Harry were left to clear out the board game from the dinner table they had played at. Claire had put her hair up again with one of Harry’s pencils as they both tucked Monopoly back into the box.

“Some more wine?” Harry suggested. Claire exhaled and shook her head, “No, thanks, I still have to drive.”

“You’re not going home, are you?” Harry frowned, leaning against one of the chairs, “Claire, just stay here. You can sleep in the bed with Atlas. Or there’s even another guest room if you want.”

And Claire was too tired to argue. She timidly gave in and lifted her glass, “Well in that case… refill please.”

About an hour later, they had tucked their boys into bed. It was past their bedtime already but Harry and Claire agreed to cut them so slack since it was winter break and they didn’t have school for a few weeks.

“Do you want a shower? Or just some clothes of mine?”

“Just some clothes, please.” Claire responded, “’M a little cold.”

And so Harry gave her sweats, a shirt, a jumper and a pair of socks she could fit her feet in about three times. It looked a little ridiculous, but Harry had hearts in his eyes when she joined him on the sectional couch. She looked cuddly and soft, and her eyes were a little heavy from being tired and sad.

“Are you tired or do you want to watch a movie or something?” Harry asked as he popped his feet up on the coffee table. Claire was on the other side of the couch with a blanket around her, “Your couch is so comfortable, I’m probably going to fall asleep here.” She contently sighed, “Don’t even need a bed.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her nuzzle into the pillow. With her feet stretched his way, he gently tapped her shin, “How come you’re so tired?”

“’S just been a long week.” She sighed, “Arranging things with my boss for the winter break, so I can hire sitters throughout the day but can stay with Atlas at night.” She explained, “Don’t want him to spend his break with his father.”

Harry took a sip of his wine and softly exhaled, “Can I ask why not?”

Claire flicked her eyes up, appreciating the way Harry was more careful in asking her this time instead of how he approached the subject last time. She swallowed, “Well, he’s abusive.” She softly spoke, avoiding his eyes, “I don’t want Atlas around someone like him.”

“Would he hurt Atlas?” Harry frowned and Claire shrugged, “I don’t think so. But then again, I also didn’t think he’d ever hurt me.”

“He hit you, didn’t he? Two weeks ago?” Harry softly asked and Claire let out a breath, “Mhm.”

“Shit, Claire…” He cursed, shaking his head, “I’m so sorry.”

“’S not your fault.”

“No, I’m sorry for prying. I-I had a hunch and I should’ve just left it at that, it wasn’t fair of me.” Harry apologized, staring at his fingers before he lifted his head and turned to face her. Claire had a sad look on her face, “Just another thing added to the plate this week. His lawyer is literally such a dick. I just… I want this all to be over. To cut ties, to never have to see him again. But I also want Atlas to know his father.” She shrugged, “It’s hard.”

“I can imagine.” Harry sympathized, stroking his fingers over her covered shin. He licked his lip before continuing, “Were you two together for a long time?”

Claire sat up and hugged her legs to her body, her chin on her knee, “Few years. I made some wrong friends in school and went through a phase. I used drugs sometimes, I drank a lot, I partied, dropped out of school… I met Evan during that time and was already on thin ice with my parents. I sort of moved in with him in this little studio. He was – uh… a dealer. And he used a lot. Sort of pulled me into that.” She softly explained.

Claire closed her eyes for a moment, “I even used when pregnant. I didn’t know I was pregnant for the longest time and just kept drinking and doing drugs, I-I had no idea.” She murmured and Harry’s heart cracked, watching her as she blinked away some tears, “It’s literally a miracle that Atlas was born and that he was completely fine.”

It was silent for a bit as Claire relived some memories in her brain. Harry turned to face her more, scooting a little closer on the couch, “Was he happy that you were pregnant?”

“Ecstatic, actually.” Claire mumbled, “He was so happy. Of course, he was high most of the time. When sober, he hardly acknowledged me. He was… very difficult to read. When he was high, he was super happy or the complete opposite. When he was sober, he barely showed any emotion at all.”

Claire took a breath, “The moment my parents knew I was pregnant, they cut me off completely. I haven’t been in contact with them ever since. So I moved in with Evan permanently. Neither of us had a job and he got money from dealing, but it was a dangerous life. He got threatened a lot and was always stressed, he worked that out on me. He hit me, always when he was high. I forgave him, I had nowhere to go.” She shrugged, shaking her head to herself, “It was difficult for a few years. When Atlas was around two, I finally got away. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

The television was softly playing in the background but neither Harry or Claire paid it any attention. She lifted her head to send him a weak smile, “I’m happy now. Atlas is amazing and I love him so much. It’s just… hard sometimes. I don’t want to have to deal with him anymore, it just brings back so many memories and he keeps thinking he’s got some claim over me.” She nibbled her lip, “Atlas goes to his place sometimes on a Saturday. Like… once a month or something. He never stays the night. Two weeks ago he went there and obviously shared stuff about his life. About Finn, about… you.”

“Shit.” Harry murmured and Claire hummed, “Yeah. Evan lost it. I went to pick up Atlas again and he freaked out, said I was… well, every name in the book, really. Doesn’t usually bother me, but Atlas was around a-and I fought back, told him to stop. He just – well, yeah.” She pointed to the faded bruise on her face and sniffed once, “And that’s that.”

“Atlas saw?” Harry whispered and Claire nodded, “Yep.”

“Holy fuck… that guy is insane.” He scooted a little closer again, “Claire, you need like a restraining order. And you need full custody.”

“I’m trying.” She sighed, “I swear, these things take so long. I’ve been trying for months now, years maybe. It’s really not easy.”

Harry exhaled, “No, I know. I know.”

“Do you…” Claire asked warily, “do you have full custody?”

“Mhm.” Harry shortly nodded, “Astrid voluntarily wrote away her rights. She wanted nothing to do with Finn or me, so it was an easy arrangement. It’s more difficult when both parties fight the other.”

Claire frowned, “She… She chose to not be a part of Finn’s life?”

He shortly cleared his throat, “Yeah. Astrid… she’s a complex person, Claire. ‘M not even really sure how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want.” She softly spoke and Harry shook his head, “I think we’re sharing traumas here and it’s only fair if I share mine.” He tried to make it sound like a joke, but there was heaviness in the air. Harry licked his lip, “We met when we were young and got married. Always wanted a family. It didn’t work for some time until Astrid got pregnant with Finn. From the moment she was pregnant I just… saw her change. It’s like she felt suffocated all of a sudden and only then realized how much her life was going to change as a mum. She did all these things, took all these trips spontaneously, like she was scared to be an adult all of a sudden. I sort of let her do her thing, figuring it was just what she needed at that point.”

Claire listened as Harry continued, “When he was born, it got even worse. It was like she resented him. We talked to therapists who brought up the whole postpartum depression thing, but Astrid said it was more than that. She didn’t want anything to do with Finn and actually tried to be as far away from him. Her motherly instincts never kicked in. She took off with her friends, took trips, partied and whatnot, always leaving me here with him. It was like she regressed back to her life in her early twenties. We hardly saw one another, she missed a lot of his first few years. She just didn’t want him. And then one day she just announced that she was leaving. Moving to some island to start over, signing away her rights and… she was gone. We got divorced easily and I’ve been a single parent ever since.”

“Wow.” Claire breathed, “That’s… so crazy. When was the last time you saw her?”

Harry scratched above his brow, “Probably… four years ago? I have no idea where she is right now, or what she’s doing. She’s completely messed it up for me, I don’t want anything to do with her ever again.” He sounded bitter and Claire shortly nodded, “Understandable.”

“It’s just like a sense of responsibility. I don’t know…” Harry mumbled, “We actively tried to have a baby, it’s not like it was a surprise.”

They fell into a silence until Harry exhaled and held up his glass, “Cheers to our exes.”

“Cheers.” Claire chuckled before shaking her head, “How sad are we.”

Harry took a sip, “We’re not sad.” He argued with a soft smile and Claire puffed out a breath, “I am. Can’t believe I got stood up. That was super embarrassing.”

“It’s honestly insane. He’s a fucking asshole.”

Claire pressed her lips together, “I mean, if he just wanted sex, he could’ve said so. I’m not stupid, like I get it. Just fucking tell me the truth and don’t string me along.”

Harry shot her a sly smile, “At least you got an orgasm out of it.”

“He did.” Claire corrected him in a shrug, her voice nothing but a gentle mumble. Harry looked at Claire over the rim of his glass, “Hm?” He wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly.

She nibbled her lip, avoiding his eyes as she let out a soft breath, “Well – he did. I didn’t – uh… he didn’t get me off.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Harry sounded in complete disbelief before throwing his head back with a laugh.

Claire blushed red in embarrassment and rolled her eyes, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Harry laughed, shaking his head, “Holy shit, I can’t believe this guy?! He didn’t even get you off and then has the nerve to ghost you?!”

She took another sip, “Well, yeah.”

“He’s literally such a dick, what the hell…” Harry mumbled, “So was he just like… bad or anything?”

Claire’s red cheeks didn’t disappear as Harry continued the subject and she let out a shuddery breath, “I mean, not really. Although actually, yes. He tried, I think.” The more Claire thought about it, the more she hesitated. Sighing out, she forced Harry a small smile, “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, though. Who the fuck does he think he is.”

Harry’s anger was sort of infectious and she felt the fire in her chest, “You know what? Yes. You’re right. It does matter. Because I pulled out all my tricks, you know? Even gave him head! He came twice!” She rambled and Harry’s eyes widened. Claire let out a sigh, “I just want – you know?” She used hand gestures now and Harry watched intently, “What?” He asked in confusion.

Claire put her glass of wine down on the coffee table with a slight slam, “I just want a fucking guy to just… grab me! Like – “ She pressed her lips together, “just someone to throw me around, have his fucking way with me, shut me up. Make it rough, you know?”

It was Harry’s turn to get red cheeks as he listened to Claire explaining her sexual desires. She seemed lost in her head, sighing again with tense shoulders, “And just claim me?! I don’t know, just like fucking take me and kiss me a-“

Claire couldn’t finish her sentence before feeling Harry’s lips on hers. He had lunged forward at her, near knocking her backwards as his mouth was on hers. Claire yelped in surprise at the short kiss. Harry was panting as he pulled back, only an inch or two. His wine-stained lips brushed hers.

“W-What are you doing?” Claire murmured.

“God, just shut up.” Harry groaned, watching Claire’s wide eyes as he grabbed her waist and yanked her body on top of his. Claire near flew through the air, gasping in surprise as she found herself perched up on Harry’s lap with her thighs on each side of his. Her chest heaved in shallow breaths, hands bracing herself on his shoulders as she stared down at him.

His eyes were dark and deep, lust dripping from him as he sinfully slipped his hands up her covered thighs. They stared at each other for just a moment before Harry grabbed the back of her head to pull her down and reconnect their lips.

A moan from Claire got muffled against his lips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders before moving into his hair, cupping his jaw and sliding into his neck. She touched wherever she could reach, feeling his strong arms wrapped around her form to keep her tightly pressed into his chest. A tug on her hips made her scoot up on his lip, her mouth parting at the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Fuck.” Claire moaned, pushing her tongue into Harry’s mouth. Claire reciprocating was something Harry could’ve only dreamed of. Everything she had been describing was exactly what he had been wanting to do for weeks now, but felt too unsure to do so. He didn’t want to scare her off, yet now he felt fucking unhinged.

The moment his fingers tugged at the jumper covering Claire’s body, she caught on. Her blonde hair flew around as they broke apart and she tugged it off, leaving her in one of his shirts.

“Fucking finally.” Claire moaned as Harry pulled her hips down on his and her head rolled back on her shoulders, “Please – oh god…” She was bucking back into him, hips sensually rocking in wave-like motions to stimulate him. Harry felt the heat radiating from her core, his head dropping back on the couch, “Jesus.” He hissed in bliss.

He lifted his head again, brushing his lips over her pulse-point, “Should we go to the bedroom?”

“Uh-huh.” Claire panted, “Please, I need you.”

A surge of confidence shot through Harry, “Yeah?”

Claire wrapped her fingers in his hair, “Yes.” She whispered, “So bad.”

Harry’s lips nipped on her neck, “Do you need me or do you just need to get fucked?”

“You.” Claire spoke without missing a beat, “Been wanting this for so long.”

Harry pulled back with surprise written all over his face, “What? Really?”

“Yes.” She chuckled. Harry frowned, “Why didn’t you say anything? I-I’ve liked you for months.”

“I know.”

His cheeks turned pink again and Claire smiled in amusement, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. Harry swallowed thickly, “Y-You know? And you never said or did anything? Kept going on dates with other guys?”

“Well, I could’ve been wrong.” Claire shrugged, “Didn’t want to make a fool of myself and ruin our arrangement or ruin anything for Atlas.”

Harry was about to say something but Claire beat him to it, biting her lip and brushing her hair over her shoulder. Harry’s eyes dropped to the faded lovebite on her neck and his throat tightened as Claire batted her lashes, “Besides, it was funny to see you a little jealous.”

“Played me, hm?” Harry growled, tangling a hand in her hair and Claire gasped at the tight hold he had on her scalp, pulling her to the side a little as his mouth latched onto the still existing hickey. Claire’s eyes rolled back, her hips bucking on their own accord as he deepened the bruise, claiming her. She was ruining her underwear, a sob stuck in her throat from how desperate she was and how badly she needed him.

“Still funny?” Harry licked over the fresh bruise, throbbing and angry purple to disturb Claire’s skin. His fingers dug into her hip, “Answer me.”

“F-Fuck, no.” Claire panted, “God, Harry, please.”

He pulled her hips again, dragging her up his growing cock as he exhaled a shaky sigh. Claire blinked her eyes open, somehow sensing his hesitance, “Are you okay?” She questioned softly, cupping his cheeks. Her nose bumped his and Harry puckered his lips for her to give him a gentle kiss.

“Yeah.” He rasped, “I might – uh… be a little rusty. ‘S been a while.”

Claire nodded, “Okay.”

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, “No, it’s like been… years.” He mumbled the last part, too embarrassed to actually say out loud. Claire froze on top of him, staring at his eyes which refused to look back at her, “Wait, are you serious? You haven’t had sex in years?”

“Yep.” He exhaled, “It’s, uh… well, I’ve been with women after Astrid, just not many. Had a few one night stands and it just… well, didn’t really do it for me. And I just stopped then, focussing completely on raising Finn and then it didn’t happen anymore.”

Claire was quiet for a moment, taking in the information before she nodded, “Okay, that makes sense. But you… masturbate?”

“Mhm.”

“And… do you want this?” She checked. Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Fuck, yes. Wanted this for weeks.”

“Weeks?”

He flicked his eyes up, “Months, actually.”

Claire kissed him, “Take me to bed, Harry.”

He didn’t hesitate, grabbing Claire underneath her thighs to pick her up. She was astounded at his strength. She had seen Harry shirtless by the pool and had seen him in shirts all the time with exposed arms. She had never witnessed him working out or anything, but he was strong enough to not blink while carrying her up the stairs.

“We’re gonna have to be quiet.” He murmured into her neck, “Don’t want to wake our boys.”

“Definitely not.” Claire agreed.

Harry’s foot kicked open the door of his bedroom, “What I meant is you’re going to have to be quiet.” He quipped with a sly smirk as he dropped Claire on the mattress. She watched him, standing at the foot of the bed to rip off his shirt and leave him topless. Claire’s thigh quivered at the sight of his muscular body and the many tattoos. His abs flexed as he moved and she was mesmerized.

Harry felt another boost of confidence at the hungry look in Claire’s eyes. She laid on her beck and he took her ankle, sliding off the huge sock he had given her before moving over to the other foot, “How do you want it?”

Claire wanted to moan. She tipped her head back with closed eyes, biting her lip, “Hard.” She whimpered, “Deep.”

Harry chuckled, “A little greedy, hm?”

After taking off her socks, he tugged at the leg holes of her sweatpants. Due to the size of the clothes, they easily slipped off of Claire’s hips and thighs, easy for Harry to take off. Every inch of her legs became visible to him, as did the red thong she was wearing. His mouth watered, chucking the sweatpants over his shoulders before climbing on top of her.

Claire parted her legs immediately, arms reaching out to pull him into her. She hungrily kissed him, tangling a hand back in his hair as her legs curled around his thighs to keep him close, close enough to feel him between her thighs. With the disappearance of her sweatpants, she felt him much more clear, rubbing against her pussy.

Harry was hard as a rock, so turned on by her and this moment and the way he had imagined this. He had never been the most spontaneous person – something Astrid loved to complain about – so it took him a lot of courage to just grab Claire and hope for the best. He didn’t want to scare her off or cross any boundaries, and somehow they didn’t really know each other on a level that he knew if this was all okay or not.

But the way she whimpered in his mouth and desperately pulled at him, was enough proof that she needed him badly. And according to her, it was him she needed. No one else.

Claire got impatient, reaching for his hand to bring it between them. She left it at that, handing the reigns over to Harry. His cheeks turned slightly pink and with their lips still brushing together in kisses, Harry nervously skimmed his fingers over the hem of Claire’s panties.

She shuddered, holding her breath, “God – Harry, get on with it.” She pleaded. His eyes closed with a guttural moan, slipping his fingers inside her underwear to stroke between her folds with the rough pads of them. Claire immediately squeaked and jumped in sensitivity of the touch and Harry latched his lips onto her neck again to silence himself.

His fingers moved up and down to feel her, underwear tenting around his hand as he felt her so wet and warm for him, it could make him cry. Slick, dripping pussy as Claire opened her legs wider to allow him more room. It spread her for him, letting his fingers graze over every ridge and bump she had until he settled the pads of his fingers on her clit.

She gasped desperately, her legs so tense and her entire body so worked up. She wasn’t sure if she was hurting him with the firm grip on his hair, but she needed something to ground herself. Arching her back up, she whined, “F-Fuck me. Please.”

Harry groaned again, a sound that went straight between Claire’s legs as he kept touching her clit. He rubbed circles to arouse her more, to get her all wet and open. Harry knew he was rather well-endowed and even though Claire had sex on a much more regular basis than him, it would be presumptuous to assume the guy who couldn’t get her off last week was anywhere near his size.

“Need to get you ready.” Harry mumbled into her neck, lifting his head and finding the strength to look in her eyes. It hit him like a sledgehammer, the look she sent him. Horny, desperate, near crying for him. Her eyes glazed over, her lips in an inviting, swollen pout and her cheeks flushed.

“I am.” Claire breathed out, “So ready. P-Please.”

Harry bit his lip, “’M not teasing you here, Claire. You’ll thank me for it.” At that, he grabbed one of her hands to guide it to his crotch, inviting her to touch him. Claire did so without hesitation, panting out as she fought with the elastic band of his boxers before finally getting her hand in. She paused immediately, eyes flicking up and widening dramatically, “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Harry smirked arrogantly, “Still think you’re ready?”

Her hand felt small around the girth of his erection, stroking curiously from thick base to swollen tip. If there was anything Harry knew, it was that he was fucking ready for her.

Claire let out a shuddery exhale as her head thudded back into the mattress, “Yes, please – I can’t wait. I need you.” She panted, restlessly writhing on the mattress, “I need you inside of me, I need it to hurt. I can take it.”

“Holy shit.” Harry cursed, bucking his hips into her hand. He stared at her, losing his sense of hesitation as he licked his lip, “You have to tell me if I need to stop, okay?”

“Uh-huh. Promise.”

“Good girl.” He whispered, removing his hand from in between her legs. He quickly brought the tips of his fingers to his mouth to get them clean, his tongue swirling around casually before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Claire was fucking dumbfounded.

Harry jumped off the bed, rummaging one of his drawers as she pushed herself up on her elbows, “Are you going to tie me up?” She sounded almost hopeful and Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “No, I like having your hands in my hair. ‘M looking for a condom.”

“Right.” Claire took it upon herself to slip out of the shirt she was wearing and then remove her underwear to leave her completely naked. She laid on Harry’s dark blue sheets, staring up at the beamed ceiling of his house as Harry grumbled under his breath, closing the drawer to open another, “Found it!” He cheered.

He turned around in triumph but his smile quickly dropped as he laid eyes on a naked Claire. His throat ran dry, seeing the length of her torso, the dips of her ribs and her chest. Full, firm tits and hardened nipples sitting up and waiting to be taken into his mouth. The stretchmarks on her thighs, the lines of her underwear denting her skin and some faded tan lines gracing her.

“So fucking beautiful.” Harry sighed, slowly walking over to her. The pace had slowed a little bit and was less frantic now as he stood at the edge of the bed, letting his eyes drag over her. Where Claire assumed she’d feel shy, she actually felt confident. Harry’s eyes studied her and he looked mesmerized. He wasn’t judging any part of her, he just wanted to see her.

Harry exhaled shakily and shook his head to himself, “Should’ve done this way sooner.”

“I would’ve let you.” Claire teased. Harry smirked slightly as he took it upon himself to open up the square foil of the condom. He dropped his boxers, Claire’s eyes widening and her mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock bobbing up and standing up tall.

“Oh my god.” She whimpered when he shortly stroked himself before fiddling with the condom. “Wait!” Claire squeaked. Harry paused and his brows raised, “What is it?”

Claire swallowed, her eyes glued to his erection, “I want to suck you off.”

“Fuck, no.” Harry breathed, shaking his head sternly as he rolled the condom down his shaft, “If you take me in your mouth, I’m gonna cum immediately.”

Claire wanted to protest but Harry was already hovering over her, knees kicking her legs apart to allow him room. Goosebumps rose over her body at his closeness, his nose continuously brushing into hers as he had one hand around his base to guide towards her.

“Still okay?” He whispered and Claire let out a soft moan, “Yes, yes.”

“Still think your little pussy can take me?”

Her eyes shot open as a tingle of arousal ran down her spine. She bucked up while biting down her lip, somehow not expecting Harry to say anything like that. Claire fought for air, “Yes.” She rasped again, “Please.”

The second she felt Harry’s blunt tip against her opening, Claire focussed on relaxing. She attempted to spread her legs wider for him, focussing on not tensing up any of her muscles as he held the eye contact. Both their mouths opened in a breathless whine as he pushed in. He felt her walls rippling around him, fighting the intrusion for a moment. Hesitation flashed over Claire’s face for a brief second until she breathed through it, her eyes rolling back as her head lolled to the side from the stretch.

“Fuck, you’re so wet and tight.” Harry lowly commented, taking his sweet time in inching forward to fill her up. Claire was panting, her nails digging into his back as she felt the burn between her thighs. He was everywhere, and he wasn’t even fully in yet. Harry paused for a few seconds before rocking in again to get deeper. Claire bit her lip with a high moan escaping her lips.

“Quiet.” Harry whispered, kissing her shortly. She nodded frantically, “I-I know, fuck – you’re so big.”

“You can take it.”

Claire arched, Harry holding onto her waist before sliding his hand up to play with her nipple. He cupped her breast, giving a squeeze before using his thumb to tease her. He used his other hand to grip the bedding, holding himself up on his elbow.

“Fuck.” He whimpered when he finally bottomed out. Harry relaxed slightly, feeling his hips flush to Claire’s thighs. His cock twitched inside of her, a tight fit between her snug, wet walls. She was panting underneath him, the sight so erotic. He couldn’t help himself when he let go of her breast and grabbed her throat instead, giving a light squeeze while kissing her.

He swallowed down her moans as he started moving, rearing back about halfway before rocking in again. He kept the pace slow and gentle for now to let her adjust, and their tongues roamed each other’s mouths in the meantime. Harry was sure to have marks down his back from her nails as Claire clawed at him.

“Okay?” Harry checked breathlessly as he brushed his lips over hers. “Yes.” Claire confirmed, “You can go harder.”

Harry sighed, “Thank god.” And then he picked up his pace and the strength of his thrusts. The breath got knocked out of Claire’s lungs with each drop of his hips on hers, nudging up a spot so deep inside it felt near unbearable yet she still wanted more.

Harry shifted his hips, scooting closer as his lips were on her neck and he buried his face in her throat. “God, you feel so good.” He moaned, “Such a fucking tight cunt for me.”

With the constant shifting in his position, it didn’t take Harry long to find her g-spot. Claire jolted up with a high whine the moment his tip brushed up her front wall, and her legs spasmed. He could feel her gushing slightly as her muscles clamped around him tightly.

“Oh my god!” Claire moaned, causing Harry to slap his hand right over her mouth, “Keep it down.” He hissed, holding his hand to muffle her moans. A tear escaped her eye as he kept pounding her into the mattress in a murderous pace, just like she had asked him to.

“Am I getting you close, baby?” He near taunted, sweat pearling at his hairline and a smirk gracing his pink lips at the sight of her wrecked state, “Already?” He added.

Claire managed to nod and he tutted her, “Good. Found your sweet spot, didn’t I? Right…” He brought his hips back before thrusting sharply, “there?”

Claire’s eyes rolled back as she shook uncontrollably, another wave of squirt wetting Harry, who moaned at the feeling and the sight, “Fuck yes, get wet on my cock, hm? Need you to cum for me, Claire. You fucking deserve it.” He put force behind his words and power into his hips, relentlessly fucking into her.

He kept his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, and Claire sobbed as she was on the edge. Harry thought about it. Teasing her, torturing her. But her eyes were watery, her nails denting his skin and her pussy so good for him. He allowed her to cum. With two more deep thrusts, Claire convulsed. A scream ripped through her chest, muffled by Harry’s hand as he fucked her through the orgasm. Claire’s legs clenched around him as she arched and writhed.

“’S good, that’s good.” Harry praised, kissing away her tears, “Fuck, that’s so good. Y’feel so fucking amazing, cumming on my cock like that. Such a good girl.”

Claire whined against his hand, her fingers curling around his wrist to pull at his arm. Harry let go, letting Claire desperately inhale the breath her lungs so badly needed. She coughed slightly from the gagging, wheezing in air as her body trembled in the aftermath of her orgasm. Harry’s thrusts had turned into gentle grinding motions, smirking down at her, “Feel good?”

“Oh my god.” Claire whimpered, still shuddering, “S-So good. Holy shit. I’ve never had an orgasm like that.”

They both slowed down a little, Harry’s cock painfully twitching inside of her. Claire blinked her eyes open, “Can you still keep going?”

“Mhm.” Harry swallowed, “Little more. I think I could get you to cum again.”

She smiled, biting her lip, “That would be great.”

He kissed her, smiling against her lips. His heart fluttered as she ran a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp a little. Harry hummed against her lips, still inside of her, “I’m afraid I’m obsessed with you.”

“Same.” Claire breathed back without a thought, her eyes exuding warmth and comfort as she stared up at him. A slight clench of her pussy brought Harry back to his mission of the night. Getting her off again.

Without warning, he lifted up on his arms and slid back, slipping from her. Claire gasped at the loss of contact, watching dazedly as Harry leaned down between her legs and his hot mouth was on her. “Oh! Oh my god." Claire breathed, hips jolting up as he licked at her, tongue wiggling between her pussy lips and up to her clit to give a harsh suck. Claire bit her lip, “H-Harry…” She moaned.

He hummed back, sliding the flat of his tongue up her cunt before sitting up again. He licked around his lips, tasting her before tapping her thigh, “Are you gonna ride me?”

Claire was still catching her breath as she swallowed, “I don’t think my legs work.”

Harry chuckled, biting his lip, “Won’t have to do anything. Just get on top of me.” He urged her and Claire nodded, letting him help her as they switched positions. Much like on the couch, Claire straddled him. The wet of her pussy pressed into the base of his cock, grinding softly as they indulged in another making-out session.

Harry held her hair back and had one hand on her ass, cupping the flesh and squeezing, urging her to grind into him. When he felt like Claire was too scared to fully sit down on him, he slapped her ass and she gasped, no longer holding herself up.

“So beautiful.” Harry whispered, head popped up on a few pillows as Claire hovered over him. They shared little kisses as he urged her hips up to sink down on him. “God – fuck.” Claire whimpered as she took him, slowly sitting down on his cock and feeling him in a different angle.

“Good, good.” Harry praised, his eyes closing as her warm cunt swallowed him, “So fucking good.” It sounded like a slur and both took a moment to adjust again.

“Hands behind your back.” Harry instructed in a strained voice, “Fuck, ‘m not gonna last long.”

Claire quickly obliged, depending on Harry’s arms to hold her a little upright. She was leaned completely over him, face hovering over his. Harry held one hand in the back of her neck with her hair in a makeshift ponytail, and held his other hand around her throat to keep her head tilted up.

With Claire’s arms behind her back, she was completely folded up for him and she loved it. She could feel her wetness seeping from her pussy, making a mess of Harry’s thighs. He didn’t seem to mind one bit, hardly paying it any attention before he started fucking up into her.

The position made Claire gasp, her body going lax for a moment before the pleasure consumed her and she let herself get used by Harry. He was so insanely deep like this, it was almost painful but in the best way. She’d be sore, for sure. She’d feel him for days, the way he stretched her and claimed her. God, it was everything she had craved.

“Holy shit – Claire,” Harry panted, “I need you to cum again.”

“Uh-huh.” She managed to choke out, “Please, it’s so good.” Her eyes watered again and Harry groaned softly, staring at her. They kissed again, his hand no longer on her throat but affectionately cupping her cheek as her tongue slipped into his mouth.

It was like he needed that moment before turning into a full animal. Holding both hands on the makeshift ponytail, he gave her a sharp tug to have her staring up at the ceiling. With Claire folded back in half and her hands still behind her back, Harry was relentless in the way his hips snapped up and his cock moved inside of her wet pussy.

“O-Oh god, Harry!” Claire squeaked, “I’m gonna cum. So hard, fuck.” Her words were jumbled and stuttering, her eyes tightly screwed shut as her second orgasm washed over her. She was quiet this time, unable to get out a sound or a word. Harry let go of her hair and Claire dropped her face in the crook of his neck, panting out desperately as she clenched and shuddered and convulsed around him.

Harry’s eyes rolled back at the feeling, “Shit, oh god.” He cursed, sliding both hands down to her ass to knead her and keep her firmly pressed to him. He grabbed the flesh, spreading her cheeks and rolling her back down onto him as he finished inside of the condom. He was sweaty and clammy, and Claire was sprawled out on top of him without the ability to move.

Both stayed like that for a moment. Claire shuddered every so often, her muscles tensing after two harsh orgasms as Harry was melted into the bed with her on top of him. They shared gentle caresses, his fingers dancing over her spine as she stroked her thumb over his jaw, “Wow.” Claire whispered after a few minutes.

Harry lazily smiled with his eyes closed, “Yeah. Wow. Shit, that was good.”

“Mhm.” She hummed and Harry sighed, “We should clean up a bit, hm? And go to sleep?”

Claire was yawning as she agreed, “Yes.”

Grabbing her hip, Harry gently nudged her off. Claire let him, no strength in her legs as she fell on the mattress next to him. Harry’s cock slipped out of her, softening up inside of the condom and he hissed in sensitivity as he got up and headed into the en-suite bathroom to clean up and dispose of the condom.

After washing his hands, he went to get Claire. He pulled her up, “C’mon, you need to pee.” He whispered. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, fully naked as Harry helped her into the bathroom and gave her the privacy to use the toilet.

Both brushed their teeth after that and collapsed in the bed. No words were spoken when Harry pulled Claire into his side for her head to rest on his chest and her arms to wrap around him. He cuddled her back, brushing his lips over her forehead, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She whispered back, giving one more kiss to his neck before falling asleep.

Harry feared that it might be awkward in the morning, waking up with Claire after that. But it wasn’t. If anything, his heart soared as he was woken up with kisses to his chest, leading up to his neck and his jaw as her hand stroked over his side.

He shortly squeezed her body, eyes still closed, “Hey.” He rasped. Claire smiled into his neck, her leg hooked over his hips, “Hi, good morning.”

He kept his eyes closed as he lazily rolled around with her, changing the position until he was cuddled into her side with his face in her neck, “What time is it?”

“The sun’s coming up.” Claire responded in a whisper. Harry’s arms were around her and he inhaled her scent, puckering his lips, “Hmm.”

“Think we woke anyone last night?”

His lips curled into a soft smirk, remembering every second as he let out a breath, “Don’t think so, no. How are you feeling?”

“Good.” Claire whispered, shifting a little in his hold until she cupped his jaw. Harry’s eyes opened as he felt her kissing him, a few gentle pecks placed on his lips. He smiled involuntary, staring at Claire who looked giddy and sparkly in the morning.

“This is a nice way to wake up.” He whispered and she hummed, “It sure is.” They were in silence for a bit until Claire took a breath, “So what’s usually for breakfast on Saturdays?”

“Pancakes.” Harry yawned. He gently squeezed her waist, “Wanna help me?”

About ten minutes later, they were in the kitchen. Claire was dressed in her underwear and just a shirt of Harry’s, reaching well over her ass while they roamed around the kitchen to get everything for the pancakes and stealing kisses in between. Harry could hardly focus on the stupid pancakes, constantly having his hands on her and hiking up the shirt to get a peek of what was underneath.

“Harry.” Claire giggled, “The boys will be up soon.”

He stood behind her, pushing her into the countertop a little as his fingers toyed with the hem of the shirt. His lips were on her neck from behind, “We’ll hear.” He whispered, “Just a quickie.”

Claire didn’t say anything, and Harry felt her giving in as she relaxed. He smirked into her neck, “So good for me.” He murmured lowly, bunching the shirt up around her waist. He pulled back a little to stare at her ass, covered by the thin band of lace of the red thong. He bit his lip, grazing his thumb over the fabric, “Let me get a condom.” He whispered.

She whined in protest, grabbing his wrist to keep him right where he was, “No, fuck that. Just do me.” She sighed, “Fuck me bare. I wanna feel you.”

Harry groaned, not needing more convincing than that. He was quick, hooking her thong to the side and pushing his sweats down. He spat down into his hand to lube himself up, guiding between her ass cheeks to find her weeping pussy. Claire leaned over the countertop a bit more to make it easier, and Harry pushed in slowly again.

He watched, the way her fingers gripped around the edge of the countertop, the way her back tensed at the intrusion, the way her head dropped and the way her legs trembled as he entered her again.

“Are you sore?” He whispered, urging her to stand up straighter again so he could wrap his arms around her. They slipped underneath the shirt, palming her tits as Claire leaned her head back on his shoulder, “A bit, but it’s so okay.” She responded. Harry hummed, nipping on her neck as he started fucking her. He was sensitive, early in the morning. His cock was painfully hard and he sighed in bliss of being inside of her again.

The kitchen was silent apart from the steady ticking of the clock and the faint sound of a car driving by every once in a while. They breathed sharply and heavily, but both kept their moans down. The only other thing that could be heard was the sound of Harry’s hips slapping into her ass, fucking her from behind.

It didn’t feel like enough anymore, and after a few minutes he slipped out to turn her around. Grabbing her thighs, Harry easily lifted Claire up on the countertop, lips hovering over one another as he pushed in again. His cock shone in the slick of her arousal, easily sinking back into her pussy as she sat up at the perfect height.

He held one hand on her thigh, hiking it up over his hips as he fucked her quickly and sharp. “Fuck.” Harry choked out a whisper, tugging Claire to the edge to get deeper. She leaned back on one palm, watching him intently as Harry fucked her for his own pleasure. She didn’t mind. Claire was too sore and tired to reach an orgasm, but watching Harry as he neared his own end, was mesmerizing.

No words were spoken, but his jaw went slack and he buried himself deep inside of her when finishing. As Harry felt like he was unable to keep his moans down, he desperately kissed her, spurts of his cum filling Claire on an early, lazy Saturday morning in the kitchen. His fingers dented her hips as his orgasm seemed endless, fucking her bare. She felt amazing and he hadn’t expected anything less.

Both were panting as the ringing in Harry’s ears subsided. He relaxed a little, unclenching his muscles as he stroked up Claire’s sides, “Shit, you didn’t cum.” He panted out. She hummed, “That’s okay. You can make it up to me later.”

He breathed out a chuckle, it quickly disappearing as he heard a door upstairs. Claire’s eyes widened and Harry glanced around to reach for tissues. He slipped out of her, using the tissues to clean up any spilling of his cum. In an ideal world, he’d watch intently as it oozed out of her swollen cunt, possibly use his mouth on her decently this time.

But they didn’t have time. Footsteps from upstairs hurried down the stairs and he heard the giggling of two little boys as Claire hurried into the downstairs bathroom to clean up and get decent. Harry washed his hands and used a clean cloth to wipe down the countertop.

By the time Claire returned from the bathroom, the sight in front of her warmed her heart. Harry was playing around in the kitchen with Atlas and Finn. And everything just felt so normal. She walked up behind him as he stirred the pancake batter. It didn’t feel weird when she wrapped her arms around his form and pressed a kiss to his clothed shoulder, “Can we stay for breakfast?”

Harry glanced at her over his shoulder, seeing the softness in her eyes. He smiled and reached back further to bump his nose into hers, “You can stay forever.”

//

[rafeysbambii]

hypnosis : s2!rafe has to handle some guys that were talking down on his bambi.

warnings : lots of cursing, rafe beats a group of guys up, a little nsfw at the end (not a lot but soon!)

story type : fic / drabble !

a/n : i’ve reached 280 followers! this is so mind blowing to me, thank you all so much for all of the support! i’m so glad you guys are enjoying these! i love you all so very much! and also, bambi calling rafe ‘my hunter’ is canon and i won’t be told otherwise.🤍

(you get it cause she’s the deer and he’s the hunter.. yeah.)

rafe loved bambi, but of course he wouldn’t admit it (even though it’s painfully obvious) out loud to anyone besides her. and that ladies and gentlemen is the reason why he spoils to the fuck out of her, new shoes, new clothes, trips to the zoo to see her weird looking animals, and even getting her little beetle car wrapped in a pretty light brown per her mention.

and he’d be damned if anyone were to disrespect him or his girl.

well today was like any other friday for the almost couple, bambi has driven to the country club to meet rafe so she could watch him play some rounds of golf - or mostly for the free drinks and watching his muscles flex with each swing.. but who’s business other than hers is that?

and also like usual, rafe had some work to do and ordered bambi to meet him at the country club, get a little flute of champagne to keep herself occupied, and just kick back and wait for him to arrive.

and she would’ve done just that…

if she didn’t hear a group of guys laughing obnoxiously at her and rafe’s table. but here’s the kick, she heard rafe’s name flow so effortlessly out of their mouths. “ — right, man i’m telling you, she’s hot as fuck, rafe is a lucky man but shit is she making him soft.. i mean i asked him if he could grab me some stardust, and you know what he told me?”

“he told me ‘i don’t do that shit anymore, don’t want my bambi getting involved with that.’ he’s pussy whipped!” she had heard about ‘stardust’, but of course rafe had told her ‘not to worry her pretty little head about it’, “man that pussy must be magical, cause you can’t catch me quitin that shit for a quiet bitch. he needs to go back to fuckin’ the girls with the big tits and never gave a fuck!”

that’s what really set bambi off, what made the tears flow from her big bug eyes, what made her run out of the country club and into her small car, and before she can even start it up, she’s violently sobbing into her hands to the lowered sound of ‘Picture you’ by Chappell Roan (queen mama.)

yet even with her favorite music artist playing in the back, she can’t help but tune it out on her drive all the way back to her home in tanneyhill, just a few blocks down from rafes house where he’s probably still finishing up his work, but she can’t help but not pay attention to it - or the fact that he’ll probably blow up her phone within seconds of arriving at the country club.

and her prediction was right, once she’s already rushed into her house, took off her cute checkered dress, white sweater and uggs that rafe had bought her, her phone was blowing up with messages from rafe, but she knew his friends were right, she’s soft… she’s holding rafe back, and now she knows.

from ; my hunter🤍

i’m here baby.

i ordered you that red drink with the cherry and red shit.

don’t remember what it’s called lmfao.

where are you?

???

hello?

bambi?

where are you bambi?

seen just now

she watches with ease as the texts bombard her phone, yet she clicks the electronic closed, leaving rafe worried that something had happened to her on the drive to the country club. but she doesn’t really care, she wants to be left in her solitude with her tears.

bambi is sleeping peacefully when shes suddenly awoken by a warm pair of hands rubbing at her back, but she doesn’t move an inch - who the hell is inside of her house? “bambi? there you are kid,” oh, she recognizes the voice — it’s her favorite if she’s gonna be honest, rafe.

“hm..” she hums softly, “where the hell have you been bambi? was waitin’ for you.” he slides into the bed, even after she shrugs her shoulders “what’s goin’ on with you bambi?” - she doesn’t have an answer for him, which makes her feel sick to her stomach — she wants to tell him, she really does, but she just can’t find the words.

“i’m not good enough for you… i-im…” that sentence alone makes rafes heart quiver, “what the — the hell are you talkin’ about bambi? why the fuck are you sayin’ that shit?” he grabs her chin, forcing her eyes on his blues - and he feels absolutely defeated when he sees the red, puffy doe eyes that add to her features.

“i heard some boys at the country club talking… t-the guys you play golf with that one night…” rafe already knew where this was going, and he wasn’t happy about it.

at all.

“and they said that i made you soft… and that my pussy must be magical and that’s the only reason you’re with me…” his heart shatters into a zillion little pieces when the words leave her words, how could anyone ever say that about her? someone so sweet, and caring? “that’s… that’s not true baby, you know that.”

“i don’t rafe… they’re right — im not like the girls you’ve had before, they’re more..confident, a-and pretty. i’m just… me.” rafe is holding every physical bone in his body not to storm over to the country club and beat them all to a pulp. “listen to me bambi.” he takes her face in his hands, his signet ring cold against her skin - but she doesn’t seem to care when he’s looking at her like she’s the only girl in his eyes (she is.)

“you’re everything i want honey, i never would’ve talked to you if i didn’t think you were interesting, i love you, you. not any of the other girls before you. you’re perfect bambi, and i won’t let anyone tell you otherwise. and yeah, they’re right — that pussy is magical.”

“rafey! don’t say it like that!” she slaps his chest as they both laugh together - peace, they’re at peace. “wait…” she pauses, looking up at rafe once he pulls her into his lap, “you… you love me?” rafe simply looks up at her, leaning forward to kiss at her neck softly, “yeah bambi, i love you.”

“so does that mean… i’m your girlfriend?” rafe is confused for a minute, “i thought we were already dating bambi.”

a beat of silence rains over the two.

“you never asked me rafey! how was i supposed to know!” her well manicured nails, courtesy of rafe - scratching at the back of his head, she loves rafe, a lot.. and up until this moment, she was completely under the impression that they weren’t in a relationship..

although they do, do a lot of couple things… like rafe decorating the passenger seat of his truck to bambi’s liking, or — or whenever she’s cramping, he brings her a strawberry milkshake from the shady diner in the cut that he absolutely hates going to, but for his bambi - he’ll walk to hell and back if she asked.

so… maybe she did kinda know.. but that’s not the point!

“fine then bambi, will you make me the happiest and luckiest man alive and be my girl?” for a moment, there’s a beat of silence between the two, before bambi is suddenly crying. “shit baby - didn’t mean to make ya cry angel face.” of course, he’s quick to wipe the tears and catch her lips in his, loving the feeling of her trying to catch up with him.

“yes rafey! yes i’ll be your girlfriend!” she exclaims in between wet kisses, the lock to their newfound relationship —. “good cause i wasn’t takin no for an answer.” he’s quick to lean forward, kissing her plump pink lips with an exaggerated smack “now i can kiss you as boyfriend and girlfriend, no more friendly kisses.” the both smile like innocent children as bambi curls into his side, exhausted with the days she had (she woke up, got her nails done, and then went home and took a nap before going to the country club.)

“go to sleep my bambi, i’ll be right next to you in the morning honey.” he doesn’t even realize she’s already asleep until her nose is gently twitching cutely, a small habit he picked up on over the few months - he absolutely adores it, and he adores her, and now..

it’s time to find the dicks who made his girl cry.

the country club is getting emptier and emptier by the minute as the women getting tipsy with their girlfriends, and the men chugging down beers while golfing exit to return back to their homes in tanneyhill. but rafe, is just getting started.

hes immediately identifying the group of guys who made his bambi cry - some tall, bulky and not hot guys. psshh, this would be easy for him. “sup man.” he says as he approaches the group, placing a hand on one of their shoulders in a super non threatening way. “what’s up rafe! yo pogue, get my friend a drink!” rafe stops the guy; by the name of Jordan before he can call the pogue waitress over.

“nah nah, i’m not here to drink fucker.” rafe licks over his lips, his blood practically bubbling over through his seething anger. “i’m gonna tell you this once and you’re gonna fuckin listen yeah?” rafe says, grabbing jordan by the collar and lifting him right off of his chair. “you ever fuckin talk about my bambi like that again and i’ll sew your mouth shut. she may not be crazy but i am.”

rafe drops the shaking guy right into the glossy tile grounds of the country club, flicking the rest off as he turns away — making sure to whisper a snarky remark under his breath.

and the entire ride back to bambi’s, he can’t help but grin wildly because he knows bambi doesn’t know how truly crazy he is — and how willing he is to kill anyone who crosses her without her even knowing it.

a / n : hello there! i’m sorry for taking such a long leave, i’ve been going through some stuff but this is my apology! i hope you enjoyed this, and ill be getting into more writing!

[avaf00rd]

what about a cute leah fic where r (her gf) gets her hair done.. like dyed or something and leah is OBSESSED like shows her off to everyone, in looooove with her, extra kisses and even an insta story to show her girl off too

Back to your roots

Leah Williamson x reader

Leah

Im right where i dropped you x

You smiled at her message as you still sat in your chair at the salon, your girlfriend 20 minutes early.

“Reckon she’ll like?” Your well known hairdresser asked you

“Without a doubt”

Once you left, your rounded the corner of the building to find your girlfriend leaning against the side of the car, phone in her hand “you could have come in you know?” Her head shot up at your voice, catching her attention as you made your way towards her

Her mouth was just left open, stunned

You naturally had dark brown hair. Ever since you’ve known Leah and basically all of your teammates, you’ve dyed it blonde or a super light brown, very few times, which was still basically blonde. Your friends and Leah had always mentioned when they saw old photos of you that you should dye it back, so without telling your girlfriend, you had done it.

“Your old colour?” Leah asked excitedly as she pulled you close to her. Your hair length now matching Leah’s shorter hair

“Yeah do you like it” you spun around so she could see the full thing. Her face beaming brighter

“I love it you look so beautiful, stunning, natural and just ah-“ Leah said before cutting her own words off by kissing you

“I’m glad you do” you said against her lips

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She smiled

“I don’t know I didn’t want to tell anyone. Felt right” you shrugged

“You look beautiful” she said, running her hands through your hair again. You both got into the car before Leah drove you both back to your shared flat. “All styled beautifully for tonight as well” she said looking at you now that you reached a red light

“Won’t make us late by spending an hour in the bathroom” you laughed

“If our house burns down one night and it’s because of that damn hair iron, I’ll be sure happy because it’ll be dead” Leah said making you laugh “hey now we are officially a blonde and brunette duo”

“Yeah you’re right” you said before pulling out your phone camera out to play with your hair and get another look for yourself “brunette me may be staying for a while actually, I love it”

“That makes me happy” Your girlfriend said before kissing the knuckles of the hand she held from her seat.

Only a few hours later you were out for dinner with some of your Arsenal teammates to celebrate Steph’s birthday, all eyes on you and jaws dropped when you and Leah walked in late

“Holy shit y/n!” They all said at the same time. Making you throw your head back with laughter, Leah’s hand on your lower back guiding you to the table

“Back to your roots!”

“Your look beautiful”

“It’s even more beautiful than I could have imagined!”

“Wow”

“You suit it so well!”

Were just some of the comments you received from the girls. As someone who was blonde for your whole friendship with these people, it was a totally different look for you.

When you handed Steph her present and gave her a massive hug she went to do the same with Leah, “why didn’t you give brunette a go?” Steph asked your girlfriend

“Never thought it would suit me. Having second thoughts now though after seeing how beautiful this one is” Leah said to the group, eyes stuck on your’s though

“Aww” Beth yelled from her end of the table, being stuck as the chatterbox at the very far end.

“Come sit down!” Steph exclaimed before you and Leah sat down at the last two vacant seats.

Later, when you were mid conversation about Taylor Swift concerts you had been to with Viv who was across from you, Leah’s hands threaded through your shirt brown locks as she watched you talk about something with your hands still so passionately.

When your conversation had died down you turned to your girlfriend, her hands still in your hair, “you like huh?” You smiled, taking a sip of your Prosecco.

“Oh I loooove” Leah dragged out, throwing her head back with admiration.

“And I loooove you” you said pecking her cheek, Leah deciding that wasn’t enough as she set her glass down a pulled your chin so your lips met hers for a quick moment.

“I’m a big fan, can I get a photo?” Leah asked, pretending to be a fan, pulling her phone out of her hand bag

“Of course you can!” You laughed

“Okay big smiles” she said before you rested your chin on your fist and shot her smile while she took the photo, scrunching your nose up in laughter in the last few as Leah squeezed your thigh a few times, knowing you how ticklish you were.

“Cute” Leah mumbled whilst you both looked at the photos “and pretty” she kissed your cheek once more,

“Very hot I would actually say!” Katie yelled from across the table, the Irish girl way too loud for the small Italian restaurant

You had a joke that you and Katie were in a relationship sometimes, just to piss off Leah and Caitlin

“Thanks baby” you said back, reaching for her hand across the table

Leah and Caitlin just rolling their eyes at both of your antics.

“Can I put that on my close friends?” Leah asked you, motioning to the picture

“Yeah of course” you smiled at her warmly.

Two days later and the public hadn’t really seen your new hair, besides some people on twitter claiming they saw you and Leah out on a walk together. All Before Arsenal posted their most recent training photos

(You’re Lia)

Liked bye leahwilliamson, bethmead and 79,540 others

arsenal wfc

back to work in order for the weekend❤️

@leahwilliamson 🤌🏼

@bethmead 🤎💇🏽‍♀️ @y/n

@y/n hair hard launch

@arsenalfam Y/N IS BRUNETTE WHAT DID I MISS

@leahupdatesx SHE LOOKS SO GOOD

@arsen_lfan JUST WHEN WE THOUGHT DHE COULDNT GET PRETTIER

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Wrote this in under an hour so don’t expect much. I hope to get my other fics out soon. But I’m still in London so it’s hard to find time. Ly x PS KEEP UP REQUESTS