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thef1diary · 10 months

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Hatred | C. Sainz

Summary: You and Carlos are teammates but cannot stand each other. But things take a turn when a championship is costed and you two finally sort out your differences.

Warnings: 18+, bratty reader, enemies to enemies with benefits, choking, coarse language, hate sex, spanking, unprotected sex, no use of y/n

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: carlos x fem!reader

"Both Ferrari drivers are racing each other, can you believe it" the race commentator stated in disbelief. Your best friend was watching the race, watching you race wheel to wheel with your teammate. At first she wanted you to win, but now with the way things were looking, she just hoped that you safely finished the race.

You were fighting for the World Driver's Championship with no other than Max Verstappen. You, a female driver in a Ferrari, are so close tasting the victory of a championship. It was the second last race of the season, and you needed to finish second with the fastest lap to still be in the championship fight.

At the moment, you were third, behind your teammate and Max. Five laps to go.

Truth is, you and Carlos weren't very friendly this season. It was your second year and due to your phenomenal results in a car that shouldn't give constant P5 and P6 like it did, the Ferrari team principal was quite interested in your talent.

Despite the PR teams trying to get you and Carlos to film videos for challenges like he did with Charles, it never worked. On his end. You tried to be very friendly and since you were the only female driver on the grid, you wanted your teammates support. You didn't expect him to hate you from the moment he met you.

So when he listened to the team orders to let you pass through, you thought that he'd finally play the good sportsmanship card. But what you didn't expect was that after passing him, he was still on your tail using the drag reduction system to try and pass you again. Instead of complaining on the radio, you figured you would race him and show him who the better one of the two drivers truly is.

Even though you smiled and laughed with other drivers, Carlos was one you could not even have a normal conversation with without feeling the need to rip your hair out. So, racing with him when you had an almost killer instinct was much needed.

If he wasn't playing friendly, you weren't either. And to be honest, you were glad that he was putting up a fight, at least you'll be able to prove your worth instead being told that you only had a chance of winning because of your teammate.

Turning into a tight, high-speed corner, you took the inside line, braking late and hoping to turn out in the front. The seconds went by really slow when you heard the impact before you felt it. His Ferrari had hit the rear end of yours, causing debris to fall from your car and a puncture which made your car spin out of control. You held your breath and tried to control the car as best as you could until the car came to a stop which was when it crashed into the barriers.

Some parts of the barrier had landed on top of the front of your car, making it harder to get out. You immediately turned off the car but stayed for a few moments. Trying to wrap your head around the events that happened.

Not even one minute ago, you were fighting for the championship and now, you were out of it.

You hit your hand on the steering wheel multiple times before hearing the voice of your race engineer asking you if you were okay. You responded "fine" in a monotone voice which sounded completely different than your usual tone.

You were told to step out of the car just in case there was a leak which was undetermined at the moment. You sighed, taking off the steering wheel and climbing out of the car. After getting out, you noticed that your teammate's car was no where to be seen which only meant one thing, his car wasn't as damaged as yours which meant he could still race.

One of the marshals led you away from the track and car so you could safely begin your journey to walk to the pits which wasn't too far. You could feel the stares of the fans as you were walking by but didn't have the strength to wave to them. You also felt two cameramen following you. You knew one was for the live broadcast of the race but the other was Netflix.

You hung your head low, not even wanting to take off your helmet yet but you were fuming from anger. You didn't want people to see that.

By the time you got back to the pits, the race was over which was expected as there were only a few laps left. You looked at the board and saw Max was still first, as expected. His teammate was second now because he moved up two spots after the crash. Lewis came in third. Carlos had fell further down the grid, a few places out of the points. The podium celebrations were about to happen soon but you were far from being in a celebratory mood.

Once you got to the garage, you had to weigh yourself with your helmet in hand then you saw your teammate talking to the team principal. You felt your anger take over you and you stalked towards him, pointing a finger right in his face. "You. You're an asshole, an idiot, what did I ever do to you! What did you get out of this huh? A championship?" You scoffed, placing both of your palms on his shoulders and pushing him slightly.

"Fuck off!" He responded which only added fuel to the fire. Instead of accepting his mistake, he chose to tell you off. "don't you dare" you felt someone holding you back and your team principal decided to interfere by saying "it was just a mistake, cool off. Away from each other"

Unbelievable. He would always point out your mistakes even if they were very small.

"Just a mistake? It cost me the fucking championship!" You yelled which silenced everyone in the garage. You slowly looked around and no one dared to make eye contact with you at the moment. Not even Carlos.

Your PR manager placed a hand on your shoulder to lead you towards your drivers room but you brushed it off and left the garage.

Not even ten minutes later, your PR manager stopped by to inform you about the post race interviews which were necessary to attend. You didn't change out of your race suit, just tied the sleeves together on your waist. On the way, she told you about the things you shouldn't answer and to "play nice".

You were hit with so many questions during the interviews and at the moment, you were probably even more popular than Max who won the race. Not in a good way though.

"How do you feel losing a championship because of your teammate?", "do you think the situation could be sorted out differently?", "we heard the team orders given to Carlos, do you think he is a good teammate?", "is this your last year with Ferrari?", "how many years does your contract last?", "do you think you'd be treated differently by both your team and teammate if you weren't a woman?"

All those questions made your head spin but you tried to answer them as best as you could. You were exhausted both physically and mentally. Thinking back to the moments you had to compromise to get better results later, the team orders you had to follow, and the strategies you thought would be better but no one listened. One questioned loomed in your mind "is this your last year with Ferrari?" Since this was your first year with Ferrari, you had initially signed a three year long contract which meant you had two more years to go.

You met up with your friend as she was waiting for you in your drivers room. As soon as you saw her, you broke down into tears and embraced her. You didn't have to tell her what happened in the garage since she witnessed it. She wiped your tears, and made a plan to drown yourselves in alcohol and snacks in your hotel room.

You parted ways for now but she will be joining you later tonight. As soon as you got to your hotel room, you immediately took a shower to freshen up. You checked your phone which was bombarded with many texts from your family and friends who watched the race live. You also received some messages from fans, some hateful, some supporting you. As usual.

You also received messages from Lewis, Daniel, and Sebastian. The three drivers who have made it their mission to ensure you're comfortable in the male dominated sport.

You heard a knock on the door and you expected it to be your best friend, but when you opened it, it was your teammate. "I'm really not in the mood to talk to you"

"Then just listen?" He raised his eyebrows in expectation. You opened the door further and let him in. What was the worst that could happen? Another fight? This time you could punch him in the face if he said something stupid and no one can stop you.

"I'm sorry" Carlos started and you nodded, urging him on. "I know you were fighting for the championship and I ruined that"

"Yes, you did" you responded. "Is that all you're saying?" he asked which confused you. "What do you want me to say?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe accept my apology?" He stated in an oblivious tone. And there it was, Carlos could not be nice for a single conversation.

"There's no point. You'll do something like this again and we'll be in this situation again"

"Technically you could prevent it"

"Me? What about you? See this is why we're never getting along" you pointed at him.

Carlos stepped closer to you and held your chin between his thumb and first finger. "You're such a brat"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes "and what are you gonna do about it?"

"I'm gonna fuck that attitude out of you" he stated before placing his lips on yours, harshly.

You did not expect that but you weren't complaining either. Reciprocating the kiss with the same intensity, you wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand playing and pulling on his hair. He groaned in your mouth, wanting to regain control which made him pick you up effortlessly.

He had changed out of his race suit, wearing just a tee shirt and sweatpants. Dropping you on the bed once you two ran out of breath, he looked at you with a specific look in his eyes. It wasn't love, no, far from it. It was hate. You held yourself up by your elbows, spreading your legs a bit because you expected him to join you.

"Strip for me" he commanded. You stayed still, trying to process his words but he was rather impatient. "Did you not hear me? I said strip. Now" he took advantage of your spread legs and slapped the inside of your thigh.

That movement made you jerk and you started to take off your clothes. First your pants, then your shirt. He was quite surprised to see that you weren't wearing anything under your shirt. You had just taken a shower and were planning on chilling in your room anyways, there was no point of a bra.

You pointed at him and urged him to come closer which he listened to. He slid his body in between your spread legs and started kissing your neck. Kiss wouldn't be the right word, Carlos was sucking on it til marks were made. He wasn't being nice. And you were loving every bit of it.

You bit your lip to suppress the moans he was trying to get out of you. Playing with the hem of his shirt, you pulled it over his head. Your hands roamed around his tanned chest and back. You tried to flip your position, but he held you underneath him. "Brats don't get what they want" he muttered in your ear before his hand roamed near your panties.

His fingers played with the waistband, pulling it out and letting it snap on your waist making you groan due to the pleasurable pain. His fingers then went down to slide over your covered clit, rubbing it at the same time as he took your nipple in your mouth.

You didn't know where to focus since you could feel the pleasure everywhere. His teeth grazed your nipple making you arch your back then he sucked on it hard. You knew you were very wet by now, but he also knew since his fingers were slick as they played with your pussy over your panties.

"Carlos" you moaned his name. "What do you want?" He asked once he left your breast alone, after scattering marks on it. "You"

"You have me" he chuckled once he saw you trying to focus on reaching your edge with the way he was barely touching you. "I need more. Please touch me"

His fingers moved your panties to the side and slowly spread your fold which were embarrassingly slick. "Do our fights make you wet? Is that why you like arguing with me?" He asked as he lightly hit your pussy with his palm, making you jerk in response. "Tell me" his other hand held your jaw, making direct eye contact with you. He slid his fingers inside you, two of them. Watching as your mouth opened in a silent moan.

You shook your head, answering his question. He didn't like that. "No, so you don't look for any dumb reason to fight with me? Just to get yourself off? You've touched yourself thinking about me right?"

You were about to speak up but he interrupted "don't lie. I've heard you" you didn't have a response to that. Because it was true.

"Are you going to keep talking or do something Sainz?" You countered.

He clenched his jaw and pulled his fingers out of you. "On your hands and knees" he instructed. You smiled, finally getting a rise out of him. You turned over, looking back at him with a smirk that he was so eager to wipe off your face.

He took off his sweatpants and boxers, and you almost drooled at the sight of him stroking his cock. He leaned on the bed and lined himself up, sliding his cock in-between your folds. You groaned and muttered his name, trying to get him to do something. "So desperate for my cock" he brought his palm down on your ass harshly which made you move forward. You nodded desperately "yes" you whined.

He slowly pushed his cock in you, hearing your sweet moans. "Fuck. You feel so good"

You started moving your hips according to his slow but harsh thrusts. He placed open-mouthed kisses down your back, occasionally biting you.

He trailed his hand up your body and wrapped it around your neck from the front. Carlos felt you tighten around his cock and from the increasing amount of moans you released, he figured that your liked being choked. He was already planning on teasing you with this information.

His other hand played with your clit, rubbing it in small but agressive circles that made you squirm in his grasp. You chanted his name like a prayer, not even realizing how loud you were because the feeling of pleasure consumed you.

You could feel yourself on edge but you just needed something more. You begged him for more and he listened. His thrusts became faster but also sloppier, indicating that he was close to his orgasm as well. The hand that was choking you, came down to slap your ass again which you didn't expect at all. Since he wasn't holding you up anymore, you pressed your face against the mattress. Bunching the sheets up in your palm, you went over the edge.

Carlos didn't stop as he was chasing his own release but it also built towards your second orgasm. He quickly pulled out and turned you over to face him. Entering you again, he pressed his lips against you to swallow both yours and his moans.

One of your hands were up in his hair, pulling at the strands while the other was trailing down his back. His hand was still at your clit, rubbing circles on it. You reached your second orgasm as soon as you felt his release.

He was holding himself up by both his forearms and looking down at you. "I still hate you" you stated.

"I know. I hate you too" he replied and pressed a kiss against your lips.

Pulling out, he rolled over beside you. You laid there for a moment before he got up and you thought that he would get dressed and leave. Instead, he went to the bathroom and brought a cloth to clean you up. You didn't know why you felt that moment of sadness when you thought he'd leave. This was nothing but a hate fuck. Right?

He tossed the cloth somewhere else and laid down beside you again. This time, he pulled you into him and was dozing off. You were too, after all the sun had set many hours ago. You didn't check your phone to see the time either. Well, even if you wanted to, you couldn't because Carlos wrapped his arm around you, making you the little spoon.

You could hear him lightly snore and you thought that would irritate you, but instead it lulled you to sleep.

Teammates who hated each other, who still claim to hate each other, are sleeping peacefully in one bed. Naked.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1blr #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #cs55 #f1 smut #thef1diary fic

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neymarsangel · 1 year

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Rivals with Benefits - Mick Schumacher x reader - Part 2

Read Part One here

Mick Schumacher x female!reader

Summary: Mick and you were both set to drive for Ferarri. You were two best friends climbing through the ranks together (and through the sheets) but things turn sour. You join Red Bull and Mick is never the same.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, thigh riding, some overstimulation, Mick being cocky, fluff, swearing

Word Count: 5.3K

—

Once more wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Every bone in your body told you to push him away but the slightest touch got you high, the addiction to his body came rushing back and you wanted nothing more than to scream his name whilst he ruined every inch of you. But this season was different, you needed to win this championship and falling into the hands of Mick wouldn’t aid you in any way.

“I’m not doing this.” You tried to shuffle way to the side but his hand pressed against the lift door, trapping you between the door and his body.

“No one needs to know…”

“You think Max won’t find out?” Arching your brows, you attempted to puff your chest out in front of him, trying to assert some dominance between you, but that only made his ego grow.

“Only because you’ll tell him.”

“He guessed last time -”

“And you think I’m going to lose sleep over Verstappen?”

“He’s a better driver than you -”

“Not until I win this year, then we’ll be even.”

“You aren’t winning this year Schumacher.”

“You want to bet on it?” A smirk danced on his lips as he straightened himself up, towering over you, his eyes raking over your body before speaking. “Every race you win, I’ll leave you alone but every race I win…” His head dipped down so his lips could meet your ear. “You’ll be in my room screaming my name…”

“And why would I agree to that?”

“Because if Miss Redbull is so sure she’s going to win this season then you’ll surely win more races than I will, won’t you?”

He had a point… to an extent, if you were going to win this season then you would need to win most races in order to get the most points but falling back into his arms would start something the two of you knew would be hard to finish.

Mick broke your thoughts as he spoke again. “But then again if you aren’t confident enough and you really are as slow as last season then I guess you’ll say -”

“You’ve got a deal, Schumacher.” You cut him off rather abruptly, getting fed up with his attitude.

Was it a stupid idea? Yes. But would it get him to leave you alone? Yes. Although you knew it would take a lot for Mick to forget about your little deal you were adamant you could avoid him like the plague just to avoid his end of the deal.

“Yeah?” He cocked his head to the side, his smirk growing with pride at your words. “You think you can handle that?”

“I drive a car around a track at speeds that could kill anyone in an instant, there’s not much I can’t handle.” Shoving Mick’s body away from you which he allowed. “And considering I won today that means you need to leave me alone.”

Mick held his hands up in surrender as he moved back further to allow you out of the lift. “You win y/l/n… just wait until Saudi Arabia.”

“We’ll see Schumacher.” Your gaze was fixated on him as you backed away from the lift and headed down the corridor to your room, your mind filled with the interaction with Mick.

Max would kill you if he found out.

—

Mick was wrong about Saudi Arabia, he ended up getting caught up with Lando Norris and never finished the race, meanwhile, you and Max both finished on pole, you in P1 and himself in P2. It may only be the second race into the season but you and your Red Bull family always celebrated as if it was the last. Part of you happened to celebrate that little bit more knowing you wouldn’t be moaning Mick’s name that night but things didn’t stay plain sailing.

You and the other drivers were in Australia, the Grand Prix taking place in a mere few minutes. Horner was giving you and Max a final small ted talk for the race ahead. After Mick’s dnf and yours and Max’s pole it set the pair of you off to a good start to the season, unlike a few seasons ago where you and Max failed to get on pole until a few races in.

Whilst Christian spoke you felt eyes burning on your skin and as much as you tried to ignore the feeling of someone watching you couldn’t help but notice a bright red race suit looming just outside the garage. A quick glance over Christians' shoulder confirmed your thoughts, Mick was staring straight at you with the same expression he held during that night in the lift. When he felt you watching him for long enough he raised his hand and gave you a light wave. The fucked knew what he was doing. It was simple but effective, he wanted to get in your head, and distract you from winning with thoughts of himself.

“Ignore him.” Max had clearly caught on to your lingering eyes before anyone else could.

“I’m trying.” Through gritted teeth, you spoke back.

“Try harder.” Tough love was Max’s solution but it always proved worthy. “Don’t throw away your chance of a championship for a moment with Daddy's money.”

“Did you forget you also got here from Daddy's money?”

Max looked down at you, a smirk on his lips as he whispered back. “Bit different, my dad was shit at racing, his dad wasn’t… besides he was still richer than my dad.”

“You two understand that?” Christian caught your attention, his eyes shifting between the two of you as he awaited a response.

“Yes.” You both spoke in unison, sparing a glance at one another before shifting away to get into your cars.

Despite Max’s words, your mind was swarmed with the thought of Mick. Even though you regretted the deal you’d agreed to you couldn’t help but remember those times you’d spent with Mick and how good it felt, the pair of you acted like a couple rather than two people who just slept together. Mick introduced you to his family, you spent time riding around his ranch with his sister and Mick even opened up to you about his dad to you. but happiness could never last. The day Mick broke everything off it left you heartbroken. But you weren’t the only one who felt like that.

You were starting on pole, P2 to be exact. Mick was in front of you and Max was behind you. A good start was all that you needed, with that you’d be able to cut Mick off and with Red Bull’s tactics it would mean you would be able to keep a good distance between you both but Mick had other plans. After the deal was sealed he wanted nothing more than to win and watch the realisation on your face when you knew you’d be spending the night screaming his name like you used to. Even if he had to play dirty to get it, he would because he knew with his last name he could get away with it.

The formation lap was completed and the familiar red car belonging to Mick was just inches before you. “And it’s lights out and away we go!” The lights changed and everyone set off. The perfect start you needed was the one you got. Before the first corner, the two of you were fighting for the spot of P1 and neither of you wanted to back down first.

The first few laps were clean but it wasn’t going to stay that way. On the fifteenth lap; Mick edged forward slightly on the second turning but quickly turned on you ever so lightly, clipping your car just enough to send you off the track and into the wall. It wasn’t a heavy crash but it was enough to end your hopes of winning the Australian Grand Prix.

“Fucks sake!” You screamed down the radio, slamming your hands on the wheel.

“Are you okay?” The concerned voice of your engineer filled your ears.

“I’m fine but the car isn’t.” He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at your words before he continued the conversation.

“We’re all glad you’re okay. The track is safe for you to leave the car-”

“What about Schumacher?” You spat. “The prick pushed me off the track on purpose!”

“Christian is filing a report now-”

“How close is Max to him?”

“Few seconds behind-”

“Make sure he laps the twat.” You clambered out of the car, throwing your gloves down with a huff. You hated the idea of going back to the garages and having to talk to the media about what had happened. One thing Max taught you when you first joined was to be careful with the media. He’d landed himself in a fair few troubles in the past with the press and that’s something he never wanted you to fall into.

After a quick examination at the media tent, you headed back to the Red Bull garage to watch the rest of the race. Max had finished in P2 and much to your disgust, Mick had finished in P1. Knowing what was to come you didn’t dare watch him celebrate on the podium, at that point you’d rather be hounded by the media.

“Marina? I’m going for interviews.” You called to Red Bull’s head of media. She was always there to make sure you and Max didn’t let anything stupid slip or in Max’s case, not punch the reporter.

“You really want to head off there now?” She asked, grabbing her kit as you watched. “We can always avoid them for a few more hours.”

“I’d rather get this done with so I can just eat my weight away in hotel food.” You replied. “Besides I’d rather not see Mick in the media pen.”

“Understandable.” She pulled you into a side hug and she gave you a warm smile before leaving the garages.

Meanwhile, Mick was basking in the glory of winning his first race of the season, not to mention he would receive his end of the deal. As the German national anthem took over his hearing he couldn’t help but scan the crowd below him in an attempt to find you but to now avail he couldn’t see you. He wasn’t sure why but his heart sank slightly at the lack of your presence at the podium but he had no time to mourn with the sudden cold sensation of champagne hitting his skin.

“y/n firstly we hope you’re okay after that minor crash.” The interviewer for Sky spoke.

“Thank you, I can assure you I’ve been checked over and I’m fine.”

“That’s all that we can hope for in this sport. Can you talk us through what happened?”

You had to word things wisely but your anger for Mick was bubbling inside you. “He didn’t leave the space needed, he cut me off and I went into the wall. I think he should’ve received a penalty for what he did. I was lucky the two of us weren’t going at a faster speed which could have left me in a dire state but it’s amazing what you can get away with when you have a last name like his.”

“Do you think you were treated unfairly by the FIA?”

“I guess we’ll see by the next race, there’s always time for a penalty.”

“You’re still leading the driver's Championship, is that weighing on your mind?”

“It’s easy to jump the boat when things start to go well but you have to stay humble and not allow yourself to get too cocky.”

“That’s a very strong mindset.”

“You learn a lot when you drive alongside a World Champion.” You flashed a smile.

“Thank you very much y/n, we’re glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you.” Giving her one last nod you backed away, turning to face Marina. “How was that?”

“I would have avoided blaming the FIA for everything or calling Mick out but other than that it went better than expected.” Her smile matched yours. “You can head off to the hotel now, I’ll tell Max you weren’t feeling too well and just wanted to sleep.”

“Thank you, I owe you one Marina.” If there was one person Max would listen to it was you and Marina, if she told him you didn’t want to see him then he wouldn’t dare knock on your door. All he’d do is send a simple text checking up on you and then he’d leave you be unless you asked for him.

You lay on your bed, your race suit hanging off your waist as you scrolled through social media, the only sound filling your ears came from the hotel television. Your parents and a few friends of yours had messaged you about the race, always making sure you were okay.

One thing that you always envied about the other drivers was how often their families would come and watch their races. Sure you had a good relationship with your parents but they were a humble couple and despite your success, they refused to give up their jobs, they always told you it was your success so you deserved to keep it but the truth was you wouldn’t be here without them. That was something you wish you’d never lost when it came to Mick. His family became yours, his mother and sister would always cheer your name when you finished your races and now the pair would just smile and send you a small wave. Sometimes Gina or his Mum would approach you for a short conversation, not caring about the rivalry you and Mick clearly had.

Huffing you threw your phone to the side, deciding it was time to change and shower but a harsh knock at your door caused your head to snap towards the sound of the noise. “Max I told you I’m fine!” You called out to the door, thinking the brunette was trying his luck after you told him to leave you be but the knock didn’t stop. “Max I told you -” Swinging the door open you weren’t met with the kind eyes of Max Verstappen but the lustful ones of Mick Schumacher.

“Y/n -”

“You fucking cheated today Schumacher!” Raising your hands you shoved his chest, pushing him lightly.

“Cheated?” Scoffing he acted like he hadn’t done a thing. “That’s called driving love -”

Your voice raised as you cut him off. “Driving? You can’t even do that right! Did you get Mummy and Daddy to pay off the FIA again?”

Mick lunged forward pushing his way into your hotel room enough that he could slam the door shut behind him, locking the two of you in. “You’ve still got a loud mouth on you y/n -”

“Shut -” Mick grabbed your waist and shoved you against the wall, one hand coming up to behind your head so you didn’t hurt yourself. You noticed his actions, a small warm glimmer of affection sprouted in your stomach but your face pushed that feeling away, never wanting Mick to have his ego blown up even more.

“You need to be quiet, you know what’ll happen if someone hears.”

“Oh god forbid someone was to find out we were together.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” His eyes bore into yours as he spoke. “You and I both know the media latch onto you more than me.” He had a point. The media always treated female drivers differently than men, always putting them down or jumping to write the most appalling headlines about them.

“Fair point but why would you care?”

“Oh come on now y/l/n do you really think I still don’t look out for you?”

“Is that why you caused me to crash today?”

“It’s everyone for themselves out on that track, just because we have teammates doesn’t mean we play as a team. We work as a team to get points but do you think I’d just let Leclerc win a race because I want to be nice? Come on… would you let Max win just because he’s your teammate? We both know he wouldn’t just let you win because you two drive for the same team.”

“Then you clearly don’t know Max.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me,” He dipped his head lower, both his hands on either side of the wall. “When did Max Verstappen let you win?”

“Last season Silverstone, when I won it put me miles ahead of you. He knew how much I wanted to win so we played as a team, I did the same for him the season before, holding off Leclerc so he could win in France.” Mick looked taken back a little at your words. “Anything to add to that Schumacher?”

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ as the words left his mouth.

Changing the subject you eyed the blonde boy before you. “Why are you here?”

“You know why I’m here.”

“Oh did the FIA finally ban you?”

Mick rolled his eyes, leaning down further so his lips ghosted yours. “I came for my end of the deal…”

“And here's me thinking you wanted to apologise for what you did.”

“I’ll make it up to you but I am sorry…” His lips moved to your neck, as a light kiss met your skin. Instintacvily you allowed your head to fall back which allowed Mick to get as close as he wished. “But I know you want it…”

“You don’t know shit, Schumacher…”

“Yeah?” He raised his head from your neck before letting his forehead rest on yours. “You know you could push me away but you haven’t.”

“I’m aware.” Your voice came out as a whisper as Mick lowered his lips down to yours but he didn’t connect his lips with yours.

“God I’ve missed you…” His lips ghosted yours as he whispered back.

“You cut what we had off…”

“Like I said… I have my regrets… now stop talking.”

“You can’t tell me what to -” Mick finally put his lips onto yours, kissing you for the first time in over a year. Everything felt like it did when the two of you last shared a moment together, it was almost like the two of you had never been apart. Mick’s hands trailed down to the back of your thighs as he continued to deepen the kiss. His hands gripped your skin, tugging your body closer to him.

“Jump.” He instructed. Wrapping your arms around his neck you allowed him to lift your legs as you jumped and latched your legs around him. Mick pulled away from the wall and lightly stepped towards the bed, his lips never leaving yours as he did so.

Every bone in your body told you this was a bad idea and that you should have never agreed to Mick’s deal. It was a stupid thing to do but in the moment you just wanted to enjoy your victory, never thinking of the consequences of your actions. But it was just a shitty deal that would last until the end of the season, right? You and Max would win far more races than Mick ever would… wouldn’t you?

Placing you on the bed Mick knelt between your legs, a smirk on his lips as he watched your flushed face connect the dots as to what the two of you were doing. “You look surprised -”

“Suprised I haven’t called Max -”

“I didn’t know you were into that.” He arched his brow before speaking. “But I’d prefer you to myself -”

“Shame Gasly fucks me better.”

“Does he now?” Mick’s hand slithered down your thermals, pushing the bottom half of your race suit down. You tried to shut your legs to stop his actions but Mick was already one step ahead. He pushed your legs apart with his knee before leaning down so his lips met yours. “You’re a bad liar y/n… I know he’s never fucked you… you wouldn’t stoop as low as him.”

“Stooped low and went for you didn’t I?”

“You’re such a brat.” Mick pulled your race suit clean off, leaving you in your fireproof thermals. His lips attached themself to your neck, tugging at the skin which made you let out a soft suppressed moan. One hand propped him up whilst the other moved under your shirt and past your bra. Mick pushed the fabric of your sports bra up towards your chest before dragging himself away from your neck and pulling your fireproofs and bra off. “God I’ve missed this…” Mick latched his lips onto your skin like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

“Mick…” Your voice was low as his name fell from your mouth.

“Louder…” He demanded as his mouth found your right nipple whilst his hand moved to your left boob, tugging and playing with the bud between his fingers.

“You haven’t given me anything to be louder about.” You knew your words would anger him and you knew they’d have consequences but after all this time deep down you wanted to know if he’d still react the way he used to, needless to say, you were about to find out.

Mick’s head snapped up from your chest, his eyes darkening at your suggestive words. “You never learn do you?” He knelt in between your legs, his hands now lingering at your waist as he slowly took a grip on the last of your fireproofs. “You never could keep your mouth shut.” As he spoke he pulled them down your legs and threw them onto your hotel floor, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. “And your words always had consequences, didn’t they?” As he finished talking Mick leaned down so his face was just inches away from yours. You could feel his breath against your face as you waited for him to lant his lips onto yours but he never did. He flipped the two of you around, his hands gripping your waist as you straddled him whilst your hands pressed into his shoulders to steady yourself.

Mick pressed his clothed hips into your bare ones. You could feel his hard-on through his joggers as he slowly started to move his hand to your clit. Mick took his thumb and slowly started to tease you whilst his other hand gripped onto your hips, pulling you down onto his dick whilst he thrust up.

“You want something to be loud about?” He added pressure to your clit, his eyes lighting up at the way pleasure slowly started to take over your body. You hated the way you fell back into Mick’s hands so easily. Every inch of you begged you not to let it get this far but he felt so good, if there was one thing you knew you and Mick could both agree on was that he knew your body better than anyone and no matter how many years passed, he always knew what he was doing.

Your body reacted to his actions, slowly grinding on him as he continued to toy with your clit. Rubbing circles on your skin he started to speed up and added more pressure as he watched you quicken your pace on his dick. Light moans filled his ears as you felt the slow rise in the pit of your stomach as your orgasm approached. Mick knew you were close so he sped up his actions, keeping up a steady pace.

“Mick… I’m gonna cum -” Just as you spoke those words Mick took his hand away from your clit, a sly smirk on his lips as the realisation on your face grew. “Why did you stop?”

“Make yourself cum.”

“What?”

“Make yourself cum.” He repeated. “You wanted something to be loud about so I’m giving you something, the last time you got yourself off on my thigh your moans filled the hotel room.”

“And?”

“And you were loud and since you want to be loud now then go ahead.”

Your gaze narrowed at his words. “And who says I want to get off?”

Mick grabbed your hips before grinding them into his. A surprised moan filled the room as you gripped his chest. “Don’t lie to me y/n we both know all you want to do right now is to cum over my thigh.” Mick unfortunately had a point. The last time you rode his thigh you came hard, leaving a stain on his jeans and now you wanted to do the same with his joggers.

Sleeping with him once more wouldn’t hurt… would it?

Shifting in his lap you straddled his thigh, your hands still gripping his chest as you lower yourself down before slowly pressing your clit to his joggers. Your light actions teased him more than he wanted to let on. His hands ran up your skin before pushing your hair behind your ear. Mick’s eyes bored into yours as he raised his thigh to your core, his hand once pushing your hair behind your ear now cupping your jaw. Mick pulled your lips onto his as you began to move on his thigh.

Moaning into his mouth your pace began to quicken as Mick deepened the kiss. His free hand would occasionally slap your ass which only made grind against his thigh harder. Tugging at your bottom lip the blonde pulled away for a second, looking down at the thigh you were currently riding.

“Look at the mess you’ve made.” His hand now ran down to your boobs, pinching your nipple before he spoke again. “Such a good girl for me.”

“Please Mick…”

“Please what?” He acted oblivious to your begging. “Use your words…”

“Please can I cum?”

A low laugh came from his lips. “After all this time you still ask me for permission… always so good for me.” He planted a light kiss on your lips. “You can cum.”

A breath of relief filled the air before your moans started to take over. You started to speed up, your nails leaving light marks through Mick’s shirt as your high started to wash over you. Your head fell into the crook of his neck, moaning as you finished on his thigh.

“Good girl…” He praised you as you came. He guided your head away from his neck, watching as you came down from your high. “Think you can handle one more?” His eyes searched yours.

“Yes.”

Mick kissed you again, slowly flipping the two of you before he started to discard his clothes. “You know I want nothing more than to feel your mouth around me,” You watched as his cock hit his stomach and as his words continued. “But that can wait till next time -”

“Bold of you to assume there’ll be a next time.”

“You think I won’t win more races?” He lined himself up with your entrance as he spoke, his dick teasing you with every second that passed. “We both know you’ll have another DNF this season.”

“Is that you trying to say you’re going to cheat me out of another win?”

Mick didn’t reply with words, only actions. He slammed himself into you, and he let out a low groan at the feeling of you wrapped around him. “Guess we’ll have to find out.” He finally replied before pulling out and slamming himself back into you.

He kept a steady pace, one hand cupping your jaw as the other one played with your clit. His thumb swiped across your bottom lip before he parted your lips with it. You took the hit and took his thumb into your mouth, your gaze never breaking his as you did so. Mick moaned before slamming into you harder. “If you aren’t careful I’ll pull out and fuck your mouth.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I’ll fuck your mouth next time, at least then you’ll keep quiet.”

You went to retaliate to his words but Mick’s thumb started to speed up on your clit. The sensation of his hips slamming into yours and the pressure on your clit only made you moan louder. You tried to suppress your moans, knowing Max and a few other staff members had rooms nearby but Mick’s actions made it hard.

“Fuck…” You moaned as the familiar sensation in your stomach started to grow. “Mick -”

“Don’t cum until I say.” Mick could feel you getting close but he wanted to cum with you.

“Please…” Your head fell back against the pillows but Mick moved his hand behind your head, taking a fistful of your hair and forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t you dare look away.” His thrusts started to slow as he felt himself growing close. “I want you to look at me when you cum, understand?”

“Yes…” You hated how submissive you turned when he spoke to you but who wouldn’t crumble under Mick Schumacher? ‘

“That’s my girl.” His head fell back with a moan as he moved your leg to hook around his waist, giving him a new angle as he fucked you harder. “Cum with me.”

Mick let his head fall forward, his face inches from yours as the two of you met one another gaze as you both reached your high. Mick came inside you, his body falling on top of yours as he felt you pulse around him. The room filled with your heavy breaths, the two of you coming down from something you thought would never happen.

Eventually Mick propped himself up, and a thin layer of sweat glistened across his forehead as his eyes met yours again. Without a word being shared, he took your lips into his, unlike the start of your night together this kiss was slow and loving. He longed the kiss out for as long as he could before pulling away for air.

You expected Mick to grab his clothes and leave, he’d gotten his end of the deal but his actions were the opposite of your thoughts. Mick walked towards your bathroom and grabbed a damp cloth before walking back over to you. Gently pulling your legs apart he cleaned the mess he’d made. “Sit up.” His words weren’t demanding but instead guiding. Discarding the cloth he grabbed his shirt and slowly put it over your body. He planted a kiss on your forehead, a small smile on his lips before he moved over to grab fresh underwear for you. “Can I?” He asked as he sat between your legs, waiting for your reply.

“Yes.” You whispered to him. Mick treated you as if you were made of glass, taking care of every single inch of you as he helped you get dressed. When he knew you were comfortable he dressed himself in just his boxers and climbed back into bed with you.

“Are you okay?” His voice was sweet as he spoke. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

“I’m fine, are you?”

“Course I am. Just needed to make sure I didn’t go too hard.”

“I thought you were rather weak Schumacher.”

“Oh yeah?” He looked down at you. “I always told you that mouth of yours would get you in trouble.”

“It’s kept me out of it.”

“Just wait till I get you to myself again.”

But it was just a one-time thing… but would it be so bad if you fell into his arms again?

---

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @lillianacristinaa @mrscevanss @chiliwhore @mloyer

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gabessquishytum · 4 months

Note

I blame this one on watching too many racing movies recently, but Racecar driver Hob and nepo-baby Team sponsor Dream.

Dream somehow (he suspects Desire) becomes the representative of the Endless Corporation for the racing team they sponsor. It is Dream’s idea of hell, large crowds, loud noises, fleeting seconds of action to watch directly, and then being expected to chat with others while watching the tv screens. He doesn’t know what is happening and doesn’t really care, and it shows. Sure, being in the luxury of the owners/sponsors box helps, but still he’d rather be anywhere else.

Dream eventually heads to the team’s garage with the excuse that he wants to listen to the race engineers and driver directly. Everybody in the garage is too busy doing their job to try and chat with him or pay him more attention than is needed to get him a headset and settled out of the way, so it’s perfect for Dream.

Robert “The Immortal” Gadling is the newest addition to the Endless racing team, so named because he has survived more on-track crashes and accidents than any other active driver, most of them weren’t even his fault. He always says the reaper is going to come for him in a car, so he might as well make it an interesting death. The press thinks he is just a thrill seeker chasing fame. In truth, he lost Robyn, Elanor, and the baby from being hit by a drunk driver while he was driving, and it haunts him. He wants to prove that he is the best driver, because if he is the best and he still lost his family in an accident, then no one else would have reacted faster or handled the car better.

Hob isn’t the best yet. He is always in the upper pack but hasn’t consistently broken onto the podium. He’s hoping this new team will be a chance to really show what he can do. Hob always has a running commentary going on the team comms no matter how long or intense the race is. People constantly have to break into his chatter to give him the information he needs about the car, his competition, or track conditions.

Dream is intrigued by this man who constantly jokes around while driving a heavy death machine around at break-neck speeds. They end up talking a few races later when after the race Dream stays long enough for Hob to notice a new face in the garage. Dream finds he enjoys having all that intense focus on him alone. Chats after the race become drinks out, then become dinner together. Soon, they are exploring the cities the races are in together when there is downtime. Eventually, they end up testing the structural integrity of Dream’s hotel’s beds as Hob sets out to prove that he is an athlete in peak shape thank you very much.

Poor Dream who has never had a healthy relationship in his life is insistent that what they have is a friends-with-benefits or fuckbuddy situation even though neither is looking elsewhere, they are always talking to each other and they’ve both shown each other the skeletons in their respective closets. Hob would like to call their relationship more but also knows his constant dance with death or at least serious injury is as good a reason as any for Dream to avoid any kind of commitment to him not counting both their emotional baggage.

Things come to a head when Hob is caught in a multi-car crash and is sent rolling into the center of the track where the car quickly catches fire. Dream pushes himself into the pack of people from the team following the first responders to the crash, hoping that the safety gear the team poured some of the sponsorship money into actually did something. He isn’t allowed on the medical helicopter when Hob is airlifted out, but he does set some speed records of his own getting to the hospital.

The safety equipment does its job and Hob will only have to miss a few races for recovery, but Dream is not letting Hob go one more day without formalizing their relationship because no one else gets Hob, not even Death. Hob’s memory of that first “I love you” is hazed by painkillers, but they exchange the words so many times during his hospital stay that he isn’t too worried about it.

When he is cleared to begin racing again Hob starts consistently placing on the podium and each time he makes sure his boyfriend gets caught in the champagne spray no matter how much Dream grumbles about the cost of cleaning his designer clothes. Years later, when Hob retires from being a driver so he can spend more time with his husband, he is considered the chattiest driver of all time, Dream listened to every single one of his races after all. He also incidentally will be remembered as one of the best drivers of his generation.

-💥

I know close to nothing about racing but omg I am so here for this!!! Driver Hob!!! Chatty, risky, charismatic driver Hob with a tragic backstory!! I love it, once again I can only thank you for honouring me with this mini fic <333

I love to imagine Hob doing press conferences and managing to turn every answer for every question into a rant about how amazing Dream is, he loves Dream so much, he never thought he'd be able to get to the top of his sport but Dream has given him the motivation. And Dream himself is standing at the back of the room desperately wishing that the floor would swallow him up <333

#💥 anon #the sandman #dreamling

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c2-eh · 1 year

Note

I have little prompt! Carlos being really possesive over Charles? Like 'okay, you can talk with (put here other driver's name) but he can't touch you like that'

thank you for the prompt anon <33 i left it in my drafts for too long for no reason which was stupid but it's here already. hope you enjoy <3

Hot jealousy flaring through Carlos' veins was not something he expected to feel on this Friday afternoon.

Usually, all he felt was buzzing in his muscles, because of anticipation and slight nervousness before practice. Carlos always felt a little uneasy. Yes, he's been in Formula 1 for 7 years, but that doesn't change a fact that he would like to be as safe, and pretty much whole, after every second spent in the car.

Now, between the two practices, that take time every friday of race weeks, Carlos does not feel restless or nervous at all.

He's standing, leaned against the Ferrari garage, watching Charles chatting with Pierre animatedly. His arms are flying around, indicating he is talking about something interesting.

Charles only talks like this when he knows the other side is interested and knows he can trust them. He is reserved with people he does not know that well — too keen on keeping his good image. Carlos does not blame him for it. Being a professional athlete, under a scrutizing eye of so many people, takes its toll on you.

His bracelet adorned wrists fly out and Carlos can see Pierre tipping his head back, while he laughs loudly — the high pitched and loud laugh Carlos knows very well, having heard it around paddock too many times.

It means Charles probably said something funny.

Even though Carlos knows people mostly laugh at what Charles says just because he is famous f1 driver, this is Pierre. He never spares Charles with fake laughter or nice words. He is always direct and disses Charles (affectionately) on every occasion he gets.

Many times, Pierre brings up things that make Charles blush so deeply, Carlos thinks the red colour might stay imprinted on his cheeks forever. Often it's something Carlos has no knowledge of happening, but the truth is, Charles is not obligated to say everything that happens or had happened to him in his life before.

Smile spreads across Carlos' face as he watches Charles' body shaking with his signature laugh. He can clearly imagine his scrunched up face with his eyes creasing at the sides and his pearly white teeth peeking from under his lips.

But what Carlos loves the most are his dimples. Deep and present every time Charles widens his lips into a smile. He can't even remember how many times he has run his thumbs across them, pushing the pad of his finger into the little dent on his cheek.

Carlos stops paying attention to the rustling behind him and focuses his full attention on Charles. He knows he looks like a smitten idiot, but after too many articles calling him out for being too in love with Charles, he stopped paying attention. Before, he had been reading all of them.

To be honest, maybe he would read them, if they didn't accuse him of dating Charles only for the racing benefits, which is as far from truth as it could be.

But that is the story for another day.

Carlos' brown eyes track his boyfriends' moves in loving manner, soft smile playing on his lips.

But as fast as his smile appeared, it was wiped off his face just as quickly. Carlos sees as the long slender fingers find their place on Charles' waist, the other hand moving up and down his arm.

Carlos watches the fabric of Charles' fireproofs bunch up on his right shoulder, as Pierre's hand moves the fabric up, more forcefully than intended.

Still leaned against the building, although only by one shoulder now, so he could get a better view on his boyfriend, Carlos' brows furrow even deeper.

He didn't even realize he was doing it.

Carlos is not stupid. He knows Charles and Pierre are friends. Best friends even, but his possessive streak likes to make itself present at the worst possible times.

This probably wouldn't be that much of a problem if it was anyone else, but Charles told Carlos about the fling with Pierre from when they were younger. Cue why he feels so uneasy now.

He is not insecure, no. But Carlos knows how deep bonds with long time good friends can run. He's had his own fair share of it.

Without really acknowledging what he's doing, he's marching towards both of them. Charles has no chance of seeing him, considering he has his back turned towards him.

Carlos hopes at least Pierre will notice him, but no. He only sees French tightening his palm further down on Charles' shoulder.

Pierre notices him last minute, moving away, but not without ruffling Charles' hair in the process. Carlos sends him a death glare, before his arms find their place around Charles' waist.

"Hi," Carlos whispers into Charles' ear, kissing his neck. At first, he only leaves a quick peck at the juncture of his neck, before he moves down his shoulder, his fingers pulling the fabric of the top of his fireproofs away, for better acces.

And god, Charles' skin is so warm and smooth, Carlos want to bury his face into it every day and every minute of his life. He trails soft kisses along his shoulder and back up to his neck, not caring about the photographers "hidden" behind the buildings and the banners around the paddock.

"Ah, hello baby," Charles responds, his hands finding their place on Carlos' forearms. His fingers dance around Carlos' arms, moving up and down as he plays with the hair on his arms.

Carlos nudges Charles' jaw with his nose, wordlessly telling him what he wants from him.

Charles lifts his head with a smile on his face, the damn dimples on both of his cheeks. Carlos connects their lips, kissing him slowly at first, before he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the seams of his lips and then licking into his mouth.

"Oooh-kay, I think this is my cue to leave," Carlos hears Pierre say, awkward chuckle accompanying his sentence.

The way Charles immediately moves his head away does not sit right with Carlos, but he lets it slide.

It's only Pierre.

After quick – and overly heartfelt goodbye – Charles finally twists in Carlos' hold and puts his arms around Carlos' neck.

"So what was this about?" he asks, smirk on his lips.

"He can't touch you like that," Carlos blurts out, forgoing the stupid excuses like 'i have no idea what you're talking about' or 'nothing'. Charles knows him too well, either way he would figure out something was wrong.

"Pardon?" Charles lifts one eyebrow, but Carlos does not let himself be distracted by that.

"He shouldn't touch you like that. I don't know if you realize how touchy he is, or how close his hands are to your ass, but sometimes it bothers me," Carlos averts his gaze away from Charles' eyes, looking behind him at the green Aston Martin logo couple feet away.

Before Charles has a chance to say something, Carlos speaks up again, "I know it's unfair to say this, but you are mine. I am the only one allowed to touch you intimately. My hands are the only ones allowed to feel every inch of your skin. He runs his hand through your hair, caresses his fingers around your waist and I-" he cuts himself off and squeezes Charles' waist.

Is he overthinking? Probably yes, but he cannot help it.

"Mon beau, I only wanna feel your hands on my body and they are the only ones I need. I know you are a jealous idiot, but I only love and need you," playfull tone in Charles' voice makes Carlos smile and he can't stop himself from pecking him on both cheeks.

"I love you," the kiss they share is heated, but also decent enough for all the cameras following them and peeking from around every corner, "but you are still mine, baby. I will fight everybody and everyone for you. I love you."

"I love you too, mon amour."

#send me more promtps #i need to learn how to write more with less words #and tumblr prompts are perfect for that #although.... this is kinda long #charlos ficlet #eva writes #charlos

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 12

Masterlist

Winding down from the frenzy of the last chapter... Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤

Word Count: 5.9k

Recommended song: "I Don't Care" by Fall Out Boy

“Mon amour, wake up.”

Pierre’s sleep-heavy voice rouses you from the best sleep you’d had in a long time. You’d fallen asleep to the sounds of his even breathing under the soothing touch of his thumb tracing patterns on your side.

You crack your eyes open to see him silhouetted by the white light of the waning moon, his bare chest left uncovered by the blanket slung low over his hips. The sight alone has your mind instantly jumping into overdrive, fighting the need to sleep with the need to continue ogling the bare skin a foot from your face.

“I let you sleep as long as I could,” he says softly, reaching behind him for his phone. “We have to be on the M1 in about half an hour.”

“Mmmph,” you groan, snuggling back under the blanket and closer to him, chasing the warmth radiating from him. “The sun isn’t even out.”

His chuckle shakes the bed. “I figured you would say that which is why I made you breakfast and picked out your clothes. All you have to do is brush your teeth and get dressed.”

You hum appreciatively and press a kiss to his bare sternum. “Is this how you’re going out today? Because I won’t complain but you might cause a few heart attacks.” A kiss to your temple is a small reward for your comment, as well as a concession.

"Don't worry, this is reserved only for you." He stretches an arm above his head, grinning when your eyes immediately are drawn to the way the muscles ripple and pull under his skin. You stare shamelessly as he flexes a little for your benefit, the action going straight to your head.

"As it should be." You bite your lip and let your fingertips dance over his chest, memorizing the way it rises and falls so predictably with each deep breath. Against your better judgement you trail kisses up over his pectoral and spot them along his shoulder, dragging another light chuckle from him.

"My love," he warns, voice tinted with mischief, "we don't have time."

"Oh I think we do." You continue your path over his collarbone and to the hollow of his throat. Taking advantage of his biggest weakness, you flick your tongue over his prominent adam’s apple. The move has his hand engulfing your upper arm, giving you a warning squeeze.

"As wonderful as this is" -he sucks in a sharp breath when your teeth graze his neck- "if I'm late Horner will kill me."

"What's new?" You say, but draw back. The mere mention of his name made you see red and shattered the moment. "Do you really want to go back to Red Bull after how they treated you?"

"No," he admits, slipping an arm around you and tugging you up and into a sitting position, taking advantage of the momentary lapse of lust. "But if I want a shot with a top team when my contract is up, I don’t have much choice."

"Where do you see yourself going?"

Pierre studies you as you slip into the clothes he had selected for you. Nothing fancy, just an AlphaTauri branded navy and white hoodie and some light wash jeans. You don't miss the way his lips twitch upward when you notice it's his hoodie, his last name embroidered in block font on the cuff a dead giveaway even if the hoodie hadn't been ridiculously oversized on you.

Cheeky bastard.

"I think I would look good in sunshine yellow," he remarks. You make a show of looking him up and down under the pretense of imagining him in a Renault branded hoodie or their signature black race suit. Truthfully it was just another excuse to drink him in like the fine wine he was and recall how he had tasted on your tongue last night.

He would look good in any color on the grid but you don't grant him the satisfaction of pointing that out. Instead, you lean forward to toy with the waistband of the jeans he had hastily buttoned seconds earlier. "You and Daniel get along just fine." You snag him by the belt loops and yank him forward back onto the bed. "I think you should go to McLaren.”

“I’d still look good in orange.”

You wind your fingers under his waistband. “I think you’d look best wearing nothing at all, actually.”

“The time,” Pierre protests lightly when you pop open the button and undo the zipper. He groans when you yank the denim down around his thighs, finally submitting to your touch and lacing his fingers in your hair. Your lips explore the planes of his abdomen, any and all thoughts of speed abandoned on your end. "If you don't hurry up we're gonna be late."

"Maybe you'll just have to drive fast. I hear you’re good at that."

**********

"So how is it that they got your car all the way to London?"

"It's got its own private jet."

You roll your eyes and smack the hand resting on your thigh. His response is a light squeeze and a chuckle before he continues, "They've got a few spares they keep around for when drivers come to town. I can't be seen in a Mini or it would cause a scandal."

"Oh yes it would be quite tragic." His hand charts a dangerous path along your thigh. He knows exactly what he's doing as he slots a thumb between your legs and presses it tight to the apex of your thighs.

You snap your knees shut, effectively trapping his hand "Now you're just being cruel."

"Only dishing out what you did this morning," he points out and wiggles his hand free to rest on your knee instead. The message was clear: he had shaken you well enough for his liking and was perfectly content to leave you frustrated until he could get you home.

“So catch me up on what I’ve missed,” you say, determined to distract yourself from Pierre’s slight teasing. “What’s new in the life of the rising star in Formula 1?”

“Rising star,” Pierre mumbles and rolls his eyes. “Not yet, my love. Getting there, but not yet.”

“Please, you’re too modest. Last night when you fell asleep- you were out like a light as soon as your head hit the pillow, don't give me that look!” Pierre picks his jaw up off the floor and shakes his head as you continue, “I read plenty of articles that called you the next big thing, right up there with Max.”

The comparison didn't seem to sit right with him. He shifts in his seat, rolling words over on his tongue. “I’m sure you’re caught up then. I haven’t done anything really besides train and race.”

“I did notice you’ve beefed up a bit.”

“Yet another reason to thank Pyry.”

“At this point I should send him a fruit basket for his trouble.”

“Maybe you should.” Pierre grins, hand leaving your thigh for a split second to upshift. “What about you? How’s year four treating you?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” you groan. “My senior project is already killing me and I’ve only just started it. We have to design a building from the ground up- I mean I like architecture but I’m trying to be an engineer, not an architect. I dunno why I have to be the one to design a building! At this point it’s just a brick box.”

“Sounds challenging,” Pierre notes, flooring it when he merges onto the highway. Though the speed makes your stomach flip, you don’t miss a beat.

“My team doesn’t do much either, I’ve been doing most of it. I could rant for hours about it.”

Pierre glances at the clock, then back to you. The blue of his eyes is blocked by his signature purple tinted sunglasses, shielding them from the rising sun that casts him in a warm orange glow. “Humor me. We’ve got time.”

The hour and a half drive was by no means dull with Pierre's teasing touches and endless string of questioning along the way. He asked after every aspect of your life that had transpired in the last four months, only stopping you once in a while to interject with an opinion or anecdote. He didn't stop at your life either, even asking after Ben's relationship. You'd been happy to report that he had indeed wooed his crush and had officially asked him to be his boyfriend.

"Those secret French lessons paid off," Pierre jokes as he pulls up to the imposing glass fronted building that served as Red Bull Racing's headquarters. The sweeping curve of the entrance was flanked on either side by two-story red and yellow bulls; proof that the team's dramatics extended far past the track. Anyone approaching for the first time would have been intimidated by the sheer size of them that suggested they were ready to stomp on their competition at a moment’s notice.

“Guess it’s time.” You sigh and undo your seatbelt and fiddle with the buckle, doing your best to stall. There was no reason to be this nervous. You were no one to these people; the focus would be entirely on Pierre. You would be an afterthought, not that you minded because it made it easier to fade into the background.

Pierre picks up on your hesitation in a heartbeat. “I’ll keep them off your back,” he promises and you nod, the single sentence taking the edge off. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You reach for the door handle but Pierre tsks and you pause.

"You know better." You bite your lip to keep back the grin fighting its way to the surface as he comes around to open your door. He offers you his hand and you gladly take it and are pleasantly surprised when he threads his fingers through yours and heads for the entrance.

The atrium serving as the lobby is breathtakingly gorgeous. You had to hand it to the interior designer; they knew what they were doing. Sleek white marble floors are accented by red and yellow leather chairs scattered in small groups throughout the grand space. A tiered circular modern interpretation of a chandelier hangs above to offer guidance to the accountants, engineers and artists that weave through the lobby on their way to their respective wings or offices.

A waist high, glass front cabinet of drivers helmets serves as the reception desk. The unmistakable scent of a fresh cup of coffee hits you as you approach and the secretary hands a steaming paper cup to someone before they scurry off, presumably to a private office if they were important enough to warrant special attention. The first rays of morning sunlight glint off the silver Red Bull logo inlaid in the black marble behind the woman at the counter, making you squint.

"Bonjour Monsieur Gasly," she says in perfect French. "Ça va?"

"Bien," he says simply and switches to English for your benefit. "Has Christian come through yet?"

"He has," the woman says, glancing sidelong at you. Whatever conclusions she draws about you are insignificant enough that she writes you off immediately, angling her body towards Pierre and resting her chin in her hand. The posturing puts her ample chest on display, nearly spilling out of her billowing blouse, but Pierre's eyes don't wander. "He's not expecting you yet. Voulez-vous un cafe?"

"I'm good." The woman may have been determined to alienate you but Pierre was having none of it. Pierre turns to you, a grin playing on his face. This was your first test as an official couple and he intended to see how you handled it. "How about you, my love? Coffee?"

The woman's eyes slip to where your hand remains clasped in his. She cocks her head so slightly you think you might be imagining it until Pierre's grip tightens, a silent encouragement. Your confidence soars. If this was how Daniel's girlfriend felt when the two of them were out, you finally understood why they didn't hide. It was a rush knowing that everyone wanted Pierre but he only wanted you. No matter how blatantly women threw themselves at him, there was no doubt in your mind that he would never give a single one of them the light of day.

It was about damn time you afforded him the same unwavering commitment as he had shown you.

"No thank you," you reply sweetly with a mocking smile directed to the woman. You lean in and drop your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You might want to fix your shirt though, it’s… slipped. I know I'd hate for that to happen to me and no one tell me, especially at work. I don't think I'd ever recover from it."

Her face immediately turns scarlet as she stands straight and folds her arms over her chest. "If I were you-"

"Let Horner know I'm here," Pierre interrupts and it's somehow the hottest thing he's ever said. His purely commanding tone leaves no room for argument.

"Of course," she replies with a sharp smile in your direction that makes your spine stiffen. "Good luck. Christian is in rare form this morning."

"Just ignore it," Pierre murmurs and sweeps his thumb over the back of your hand as he leads you across the cold marble and down a carpeted hall. "You handled that well.”

“I may have gotten a few pointers from Daniel’s lover.” Your soft smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The short interaction had sapped most of your confidence, leaving you on uneven footing. “I would rather not have to deal with that again soon though.”

“I can handle the women easy enough when I know I’ve got you to come home to.”

The tightness in your chest eases further when the hall opens into another startlingly white space, this time packed with rows and rows of navy cubicles. But that's not where your attention is drawn- instead, your gaze is immediately snagged by the case of trophies towering high along the back wall. Cups of every shape and size shine within, each one representing a different podium for the team achieved in various years and tracks.

"There must be over a hundred," you breathe, mesmerized by the glinting silver and intricate craftsmanship. The case was easily thirty feet tall and you had to crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the ones in the top row. Each one told a story of blood, sweat and tears, each one earned by a driver who had made countless sacrifices to be where they were and finish on a podium.

"A hundred and eighty five to be exact," he counters, laughing at your amusement. "Your inner architect is screaming isn't it?"

"Only a little."

Pierre laughs outright at your white lie and tugs you along. "You can stare on the way out. I'll even show you which ones were Max's."

"Did you memorize what all his trophies look like?"

"Hey, meetings with engineers get boring. It's one of the more interesting ways to occupy your time when they are going on and on about fluid mechanics and thermodynamics- you know, stuff you understand but not me."

"Oh whatever, you enjoy those meetings and you know it."

"Only a little," he quotes.

People recognize him as you pass and some nod or give a simple greeting as they go about their morning but no one stops him to chat. The air feels a bit hostile, like no one knows what to do with him now that he's walking through the building after a nearly two year absence.

"Do you miss it?" You ask after he smiles at someone for the millionth time.

"I miss the team," he admits, "but not the management culture. My team was great- they supported me any way they could but it didn't help that Horner didn't exactly encourage them to believe in me. It's hard to crank out results when there's no one on your side."

"I'm on your side," you point out, nudging him with your hip. "You've got me forever, no takesies backsies."

"I'm grateful for it," he murmurs and gives your hand a squeeze. He hadn't let go once; not when he had to open a door or the two of you had to walk single file to let people pass.

The building was a labyrinth and if it wasn't for Pierre you'd have been lost the moment you set foot inside. He navigates the twisting halls with ease, having no need for the countless signs posted along the way.

He leads you up a set of steel stairs after what seems like ages. When he knocks on a heavy oak door, his grip on your hand turns possessive like he suspects the office’s occupant would try to rip you away from him.

“Morning.”

God, even the one word makes rage simmer in your veins. The voice precedes the man and Christian Horner swings open the door, a plastic smile splitting his face. He doesn't bother acknowledging you with a greeting, instead addressing his driver directly.

“I wasn’t expecting you to bring a guest.”

“A pretty face was needed around here,” Pierre snaps back without missing a beat. You bristle, free hand curling into a fist. If there was one person you didn’t mind teaching a lesson to, it was Horner. He had little respect for anyone he viewed as disposable- up to and including “underperforming” drivers.

Christian raises an eyebrow. “Sure. She can wait out here- you and I have terms to discuss.”

Fine, Horner wanted to play dirty? So could you. When it came to staring him down, you became fearless. He was the one person you refused to let intimidate you.

Drawing on your newly minted confidence you smile up at Pierre and silence the protest forming on his tongue with a grin. “Gimme a kiss, race winner.”

Pierre doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours. Cupping a hand to the back of his neck you draw him in and nip at his lower lip. The hand on your hip tightens at Christian's scoff but Pierre makes no move to break away. You linger a moment longer than necessary to drive your point home: you didn’t care what Horner had to say about you, you were here to stay and he would have to get used to it.

Pierre gives you a small, blissed out smile before dropping your hand and following Horner inside. The door clicks but doesn't shut all the way, Pierre leaving it cracked for your benefit.

Uninterested in eavesdropping on small talk, you lean on the metal railing to observe the research and development garage coming to life on the floor below. Hybrid engines in various stages of disassembly dot the space, small teams of mechanics and engineers tweaking components to reduce weight or increase horsepower. Pistons and valves are scrutinized and exchanged before being placed under stress to test their strength.

An FIA official in a red jacket wove through the garage to observe and jot notes down on a clipboard. He looks over the shoulder of an engineer pouring over formulas on a whiteboard, startling him when the official asks a question. Someone calls your name from below and you search for the origin, finally spotting the woman and waving back at her.

Management may have their qualms with Pierre but it was clear there were still some within the team that had his back. They were likely the same ones that knew he would have to leave the Red Bull umbrella to find any semblance of success. They may not have possessed the guts to stick their necks out for him when Horner had cut him but they were at least happy to see him back around headquarters.

"You sure you'll rise to the challenge?" Horner's question drags you back to the mezzanine.

"I'll take seventh. I'm only a few points away and we have plenty of races left."

He had five races to catch up to be exact. Pierre currently was comfortably ahead of the pack in ninth, Sainz was only three points ahead in eighth, and Norris ten points beyond in seventh. It would only take a DNF or two from his rivals and a few podiums to pass them up.

"Right," Horner starts. "There's a reason you've done so well this season and it's not luck. You've been racing exceptionally well and I don't want that to change."

"If there's something on your mind just get on with it." Pierre's voice is calm and collected in a way yours wouldn't be if you had been in his shoes. You've been dying to rip into Horner since the day he wrote Pierre off.

"There's been a fire in you the past few months since she has been gone-"

"Leave her out of this."

The tone sends a chill down your spine. It maintains the same level headedness that Pierre had perfected over the years and you had come to expect when he was backed against a wall, but it was laced with an unspoken threat. The intent was clear: he would walk out and abandon his chance for a seat at Red Bull if it meant protecting you.

You creep to the door to peer through the crack. Horner crosses his arms, a sly smile on his face. "You would sacrifice your chance at a championship winning seat for her? Everything you've worked so hard for, gone in a flash, because of her?"

"Without question," Pierre answers immediately. The conviction and commitment behind it nearly makes you stumble. "I'm sure there's plenty of other teams that would love to have me after the season I've had. She’s not going anywhere, so either you stop disrespecting her or I walk out."

You clench your fists, ready to burst in and demand Pierre stop being a fucking idiot. His long term plan saw him at another top team that would take care of him and nurture his skill- a long stint at Red Bull Racing was never in the cards. It wasn't an environment for everyone. Some people like Max thrived in it, letting the toxicity roll off their backs but for Pierre it was a cruel form of punishment. However, a seat at Red Bull for the 2022 season could mean the difference between an offer from Alpine and an offer from Haas when his contract was up for renewal.

The idea of seeing his number stickered to the floor in a Red Bull garage excites and intimidates you. Last time he hadn't been given the chance to prove himself. Would they still hold that against him? Knowing Christian, he probably would. On the other hand, it meant that they admitted their mistake in cutting him mid-season, whether they said it outright or not.

Pierre's redemption day was on the horizon and you couldn't wait to see the look on Horner's face when he finally won. And the longer Christian stays silent, the more potent the urge to throttle him grows.

Christian gives a slow clap. "Now there's the unwavering commitment that was missing during round one."

Your heart hammers in the dead silence as papers are shuffled. "Here's the contract. Terms are as discussed, you secure seventh in the world championship in 2021 and the second seat at Red Bull Racing is yours for the entire calendar in 2022. No demotions, substitutions, or shuffling of drivers unless medically necessary or mutually agreed upon by all affected parties."

"And the same spec car as the number one seat," Pierre insists, spine straight. "Same strategy."

Christian waves a hand. "Yes, that's in there too. Feel free to take a moment and read it over."

He does, allowing Christian time to pour a knuckle of whiskey and set the glass before Pierre. He pours himself an identical glass and waits until Pierre signs and initials all the boxes before raising it in acknowledgement.

"Congratulations. Welcome back to Red Bull- conditionally."

Pierre leaves the glass untouched and remains silent, staring his potential future team principal down. He gives the man no margin to question his abilities further, conveying all he needs to with a look that would have had you shaking at the knees. Even if you can't see his face, wrath radiates from him in waves and you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it when it explodes.

"Right then." Christian lowers the glass, his fake smile vanishing. "I look forward to seeing what you can do."

"Don't worry. I'll deliver."

You step back and allow him to set the mood as he exits the office and slams the door behind him. Pierre sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. "You heard all of that right?"

You nod. "You wouldn't have really walked out, right?"

"I almost did."

He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like you should know that he would choose you over all of this, that all of his dreams and everything he had sacrificed to achieve them thus far meant less to him than you did. How many times did he have to prove his unwavering commitment before you realized it was true?

Pierre laces his fingers through yours, the heat welcomed by your ice cold skin. It was as much a comfort to you as it was to him. "I just have to grab some things from Max's office and then we can head out."

His jaw is still set after his stand off with Christian and you want nothing more than to ease his mind. Publicly comforting him with a touch to his chest or a kiss to his neck was out of the question so you settle on temporary distraction.

"Hey, you know what I want to see?"

"What's that?"

"That room full of all the old chassis. You know, the one that they hold all the fancy virtual events in? I wanna see those."

"I think I should be able to get you back there." He veers down a hall and you yelp, pulled along by his momentum. His attitude brightens a little at your laugh. The grin he throws your way is your own personal sun, warming your soul.

"Hey- hold on." You pull him to a stop and lead him into an alcove. The inch of space between your chests is charged with electricity, begging to jump from one to the other.

"Can I help you?" He asks and grins down at you.

"No," you say nonchalantly. "Just wanted to be selfish for a second."

You rise up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He melts into you, one hand coming up to cup your jaw while the other finds the small of your back. You side your tongue over his lower lip and he presses you against the door leading to who knew where and opens his mouth to you. You sigh into the kiss, arms winding around his neck and losing yourself in him.

Now that you had gotten over your anxiety, everything was so much easier. You know there's press roaming about the building and any number of them could pass by at any moment but you genuinely couldn't care less. Let them talk; you were over caring what anyone thought or said.

All that mattered was the man beneath your fingertips. You would endure a lifetime of insults if he was the one to soothe the wounds afterwards. As long as you both were happy, no one could come between you ever again.

Pierre pulls away when someone passes by and coughs quietly. "You're trouble," he murmurs, leaving an arm propped next to your head and effectively caging you in.

"And you're dangerous," you tease, tugging on his hair and exposing his throat enough to nip at it once. "Together we're the perfect pair."

He groans and leans away. "Keep that up and I might have to stay in London an extra week."

You slip out of his grasp and give him an unrestrained grin. "Don't threaten me with a good time." You spin on your heel and set off down the hall, swaying your hips a little more than necessary.

"You know where you're going?" He calls after you.

"Someone will point me in the right direction, I'm sure."

"Someone like me." He catches up to you and once again takes your hand in his. He was enjoying showing you off almost as much as you enjoyed hanging on him.

"Maybe we should head right to Max's office and hurry home, huh?"

"Maybe-"

"Pierre, there you are."

You both turn to a woman hustling up the hall after you. She’s slight and her brown curls bounce as she jogs to where the two of you pause at a bend. You glance up to Pierre to see if he's just as confused as you are.

"Hey Mary," he says cheerily. "How are you? Sorry I didn't check in with you when I got here."

"Oh it's fine- why aren't you in the Alpha samples I sent?” The woman props a fist on her hip and tips her head to the side. “I think I got your size right now that I’ve laid eyes on you. I was hoping for a shoot today since you've finally come by."

It takes you a moment to register that she's addressing you. You shoot Pierre a look and he offers you a tentative, closed off smile. "Um, what Alpha gear?"

The woman's chocolate brown eyes go wide. "The ones I've been sending to Pierre. Hoodies, dresses, jackets. All the stuff from the new line. They have been sending the samples to you, right?"

"Um, yeah I've gotten them," Pierre says, rubbing his neck. "I haven't given them to her though."

"Oh, I see!” Pink tinges Mary’s cheeks. “I must have missed a memo. I just thought that you'd want to do a shoot with her today, since we already had a quick one planned for you. After all, you talk about her all the time."

"He does?"

Mary nods. "Oh yes, we've all heard plenty about you. You're lucky to have someone so enamored with you. I just dropped off some more samples in Max's office as a little thank you for letting us steal him so often-"

"Okay, thank you Mary," Pierre says abruptly. "I'll get back to you on that."

Pierre steers you away and down the hall. "What was she talking about? Why would they want me to come by for a photo shoot?"

Pierre runs a hand through his hair and pauses outside Max's office. The Dutchman must have been away because Pierre pulls out his key and fits it in the lock. "I just- come on."

He waves you inside and you obey, letting him close the door and grant you some semblance of privacy before continuing.

"I never formally told anyone that we broke up. Most people came to their own conclusions once they didn't see you around for a while. Some people didn't get the message. Obviously Mary was one of them. I would still talk about you, I couldn't help myself. There was one shoot where Yuki and I were together and he mentioned off hand that you'd be a good brand ambassador. I tried to explain that it wouldn't work but Mary wouldn't hear it and she just kept sending me more and more samples.”

You draw a breath and interrupt his rambling. “But where-”

"I had it all in a box in my office but I struggled to concentrate with a reminder of you hanging over my head. I sent it over here to Max and that's where it's sat ever since. I used the excuse that Max was in town more often than I was and no one read too far into it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You whisper. "I would've taken them. I'm sure you got an earful from Mary."

"Would you have?” Pierre pauses, your silence in the face of his frustration speaking volumes. “I waited four months to hear from you. Tell me that sending you thousands of dollars in unreleased merch wouldn't have made you even more hesitant to come back to me."

Not knowing what else to say, you let your gaze fall to the carpet. Sending you expensive things would have felt something like a bribe, like he was trying to influence you with fancy clothes.

Pierre shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, it’s in the past now. We can take it home today and you can wear it when I take you for dinner and Alpha will get the press they’re after. Everyone will be happy.”

He wasn’t happy. That much was plain to see. He hadn’t been able to stomach seeing something intended for you, even that minute of a reminder had been too much for him to bear. God, you had thoroughly wrecked him. You were lucky that there were still enough pieces of him left to heal.

“I didn’t realize you were hurting so bad,” you say, voice barely above a whisper as you cross the cramped space to him, stepping over piles of strewn paperwork carefully so as to not disturb whatever random order they were placed in. You don’t dare reach out to touch him as his shoulders slump, any and all forward momentum he’d gathered suddenly sapped.

“It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever gone through.”

Unable to let him suffer alone with his thoughts, you wrap your arms around his middle and let your cheek rest between his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to alienate you. I was waiting for you, too.”

“You needed space and I gave it to you.” His hand rests on your arm with a gentleness you’ve come to expect when he lays himself bare like this. “There were so many times I almost gave in to the impulse and just messaged you but I made myself wait. I didn’t want to rush it and make things worse. You always need time to think things through- I knew you would come around eventually. It didn’t make it any easier though.”

You rub soothing circles on his side as you blink back the tears that spring to your eyes. “I’m sorry I put you through that. I’m sorry I took so long and I’m sorry I made you wait. It had to have been torture-”

He turns in your embrace and cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The pad of his thumb sweeps across your cheek, the metal of the ring on his middle finger biting into your flushed skin. “It’s alright. You had a lot to sort through and I had to respect that.”

“We lost so much time-”

“Hey,” he says softly, ducking his head to meet your eyes. “We’re together now. If there’s one thing I’m sure of it’s that you can’t let missed opportunities control you or else you’ll never be happy.”

You nod, swiping your sleeve under your eyes. “What did they send?” you ask, nodding towards the box overflowing with tan and navy threads.

“Pull up a chair,” Pierre suggests, “there’s a lot.”

You roll over Max’s desk chair and tug on Pierre’s arm. Once he gets the picture and sits, you settle in his lap. He winds an arm around your middle, the close contact already soothing your frazzled nerves.

“That better?” he murmurs.

“Much better.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @ricciartodododo

If you have asked to be tagged in the past and I missed you I apologize! Just comment below and I’ll get you added for future updates. Thanks for reading ❤

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

In These Walls

Colson finally writes a song about you, years after your whirlwind relationship. You come to his house to confront him, only to relive your favorite memories.

Request: “Hi, i was wondering if you could possibly write something about the background for "in these walls" song. Like it's a wrong time right person situation. Maybe like they split up and get together multiple times knowing that it's true love. And in the end after hearing the song reader leaves him for good and wishes him to be happy? But you could change any part of it, it just would be really nice to have a back story for this song.”

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Adult content (It’s not full blown smut but it’s there), substance abuse, cursing, angst

A/N: I changed this request just a little bit, I hope you don’t mind. It’s the same concept it just ends a little differently. I had to take a little artistic liberty with the lyrics since some (a lot) of them were pretty ambiguous, but this is just my interpretation of the song.

A/N part 2: I really fucking loved writing this. I absolutely love this song and literally wrote like multiple plots for this. Also I was gonna keep it as the original ending but I had to do what I did (you’ll see what I mean)

Word Count: 4897

Listen to the In These Walls

masterlist

You parked your car on the side of the street, taking in the all too familiar house in front of you. As you walked up to the door, you could already hear the party in full swing. For a second your heart fell, just a little. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed his parties.

Your hand grasps the handle to the front door, opening into the once familiar entryway hall, where the two of you had first met.

You walked up to the door with Ashleigh, trailing slightly behind her. “Don’t worry Y/N, they’ll love you. They have to.”

You chuckled, “You know me, Ash. These kinds of parties just aren’t my thing. I’m much better at working with rock stars than partying with them.”

Ashleigh rolled her eyes, opening the door. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

You walked into the house, eyes wandering over the high ceilings and pristine decorations. You were slightly surprised that someone as infamous as Machine Gun Kelly had a place as clean as this.

“Kells! Slim!” Ashleigh called to two men, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your eyes landed to where her attention was focused, meeting the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen. He walked over to you and Ashleigh, his friend following behind.

“Hey Ashleigh, this must be the new assistant you’ve been talking about.” The blue-eyed boy greeted your friend and boss, his eyes still focused on you. “I’m Kells, but you can call me MGK, Colson, whatever you like.”

You smiled, maintaining eye contact, “Nice to meet you Colson, I’m Y/N”

Your eyes traveled the house, just as they had that first day, landing on one of the jackets hung up by the door. You chuckled to yourself. Two and a half years later and he still had the same leather jacket that he had once so carelessly thrown on the floor of your hotel room.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Your head rolled back, giving Colson better access to your neck. Your hands made their way to his hair, running your fingers through his locks.

Colson’s teeth nipped at your neck, ripping a small whine from your lips. Colson smiled against your skin, mumbling, “Why shouldn’t we?” His hands reached for your shirt, pulling it over your head, and returning his lips to your exposed skin.

You suppressed your moans as best as you could as he moved lower, his lips sucking at your nipples. “I mean, technically you’re my boss.” Your hands pulled on his hair as he nibbled on the sensitive bud. “And if Ash found out she’d fire me on the spot.”

His mouth moved lower, pressing sloppy kisses to your stomach. “Then we just don’t let her find out.” He smirked, unbuttoning your jeans, and pulling them down your legs, smiling at your lacy light pink panties.

Your eyes dropped to the floor as you recalled that night, the night everything changed. The night you had fallen head over heels in love with the man in the leather jacket.

You laughed at the memory. Hindsight really is 20/20.

You stepped further into the house, nostalgia hitting you at every corner. As the extent of the party came into your vision, you spotted Dre in the middle of the floor, dancing with a bottle of Jameson in his hand, no care in the world.

The party on the tour bus was in full swing when you and Ashleigh finally got on. Dre and Irv were in the middle of the floor, dancing and jumping with a group of girls around them. Rook and Slim were in the middle of a drinking competition, with Baze judging.

You looked around the room as inconspicuously as possible, searching for the man whose arms you had woken up in that morning. Your eyes met his as Ashleigh handed you a cup with who knows what in it, but you were too distracted to thank her.

Colson was sitting on one of the couches, a girl on his lap and a drink in his hand. His free hand was wrapped around her waist as she whispered something in his ear, pressing a kiss to his neck. His eyes, however, were trained on you.

Against your better judgement, you downed whatever was in the cup, feeling the burn of the alcohol in your throat. You met Colson’s eyes again, a smirk on his face.

You walked over to Ashleigh, grabbing another drink. “What’s gotten into you?” She laughed. “You never drink.”

You rolled your eyes, hiding the real reason you were eager to get drunk. “It’s our night off, right?” You laughed, raising your cup before drinking it.

You stayed on the outskirts of the crowd, trying to find the blue-eyed boy that you came to see. Your heart was racing as you leaned against the wall, suddenly anxious about what you were here to do.

As you searched the crowd, you saw Rook sandwiched between two girls in typical Rook fashion.

“Hey Kells, have you noticed something going on with Y/N?” The shorter boy got his friend alone, concern in his eyes.

Colson shrugged, unbothered. “Not really, why?”

“I dunno man, she used to never drink or smoke or any of that shit. Now I don’t think she’s been fully sober for like a week.”

Colson knew what was going on, but he couldn’t exactly tell Rook about it, Rook liked you too much for that. “I haven’t noticed anything. Maybe she’s just getting more comfortable with us. She’s probably fine.” He fed his friend lies, hiding the fact that you were trying to impress him.

To your benefit, it was working. Colson found you much more attractive when you weren’t so strung up all the time, and he made sure to tell you that every night when you were under him.

Rook sighed, “I mean, maybe. She just never seemed like this type.”

You hadn’t been to a party like this in months. After everything that had happened, you’d been trying to get clean. You’d been officially sober for 15 months.

Realizing that Colson was probably outside or preoccupied with someone else, you made your way to the bathroom further in the house, the one no one really knew about or bothered to use.

You’d been rushing around for the last few hours making sure everything was ready to go and as soon as you thought you could relax, Colson disappeared.

You were about to get onto the tour bus when Slim told you. You sighed in frustration, realizing you would have to find the man before anyone could leave.

You made your way through the venue and towards the greenroom that the boys had trashed earlier that night. You walked across the room towards the dressing room door, seeing as Colson wasn’t in the room.

You had been in the dressing room with Colson dozens of times, you never felt the need to knock. No one did. So, you thought when you walked in, you’d find him changing or packing his things up. Instead, you found him in a much more… compromising position.

The girl was on the counter, head thrown back and eyes shut in pleasure. Colson’s head was buried in her neck as he slammed into her. When he heard the door open, his head shot up, your eyes connecting. In that moment, all of the feelings you had for him left your body.

“Everyone’s on the tour bus and waiting for you so we can leave. Join us whenever you’re ready.” Your voice and expression were emotionless.

“Y/N wait.” Colson called as you turned and walked out the door. “Fuck.” He grabbed his boxers, pulling them on and rushing after you. His hand grabbed your arm, stopping you and turning you towards him. “Y/N please, it’s not-“

“What it looks like? Funny.” You shook your arm from his grasp.

“Don’t get all mad about this.” Colson pleaded.

“Why shouldn’t I get mad about this Colson? We’ve been sleeping together every night for what, three weeks now? How many other girls have you had between then and now?” You kept your voice even, not showing how much you were hurting inside.

Colson rolled his eyes, “C’mon Y/N, you know that shit wasn’t serious.”

You bit your lip, nodding slowly. “Yeah, of course it wasn’t serious for you.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Do you have any idea what you do to people?” Your voice finally raised, “You make people feel so special for a little while, and then just when they think they have something real with you, you take it all away from them.”

Colson stood there, stunned. He wasn’t expecting you to be this upset. You continued, “And I knew when I met you that this would happen, I knew this was the kind of person you were. I guess I got so caught up in you I didn’t realize how stupid I was being.”

You studied Colson’s face, searching for any sign of a feeling in him. “This is ridiculous. I’m fucking ridiculous. I can’t believe I ever thought you and I would work out.” You let out a bitter laugh. “I told myself that even if it took forever, that me and you would be together, but I guess you didn’t feel the same way.”

The bathroom was clean, like most of the rest of the house. It was ironic, you would think that a band of boys would have a house that looked trashed, but these boys seemed to like the clean.

You took a look at yourself in the mirror, hands resting on the counter in front of you. You took a deep breath, calming your nerves. “You can do this, it’s just Colson.”

“You can do this, it’s just Colson.” You told yourself, looking at his contact in your phone. You’d run out of options at this point. You were desperate.

You clicked the call button, hearing the phone ring before the familiar voice picked up. “Y/N?”

“Hey Colson, it’s me. I-uh- I hate to do this but I really don’t have anyone else to call.” Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you collected your thoughts. “My roommates kicked me out and I don’t have anywhere to go. I know we didn’t end on the best note, but I’m desperate.”

“You can stay over here.” He didn’t question you, didn’t even hesitate.

“Thank you.” You sighed, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You made your way back through the house, hoping Colson would have rejoined the party-his party- by now. On your way you stopped at the door that had become all too familiar for you. Your door.

You took a deep breath, reaching out and turning the handle, pushing the door open. He hadn’t changed anything in two years. The same orange comforter covered the mattress, the same decorations hung from the walls. The only thing he had changed was the lamp, which you two had broken during your time here.

“Any luck?” Colson asked, pushing the door open.

You sighed, pushing your laptop away from you. “No.” You frowned. “No one is looking for a roommate and no one is renting anything within my budget.”

Colson sat on your bed, a sympathetic expression on his face. “You can stay here as long as you need. But if you need help looking, I’m always willing to help.”

“Thanks Cols.”

Over the last week that you’d spent at his place, things seemed to get better between you two. The feelings you once harbored for him seemed to have disappeared, and now you were content with being friends.

“Of course.” He smiled, his hand reaching out and rubbing your thigh.

Ok, your feelings for him were gone, but even you had to admit he’s the best guy you’ve ever been with.

“If you need anything, I’m here.” His smile was very suggestive, as was the emphasis he put on “anything.”

You leaned towards him, face very close to his. “Anything?” You whispered seductively, a smile spreading on your face.

“Anything.”

All it took was his voice and the look in his eyes for you to connect your lips. His were so familiar to you yet seemed like a distant memory.

He moved your laptop off the bed, climbing over you, his knees on either side of you. Your bodies moved in perfect sync with each other, both needing the other’s.

And that was the start of the best 6 months of your life.

You leave the room, a shiver running up your spine at all the memories Colson and you made in there with the lights off. You start making your way to the kitchen, deciding to move around the crowd and sneak through the hallway, passing the open garage door, where more partygoers were dancing around Colson’s purple Aston Martin.

The breeze flew through your hair as you flew down the street, a joint in your hand.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?” You looked over at Colson, a smile on his face.

“Nope. It’s a surprise.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a hit and blowing the smoke in his face. “A surprise at 2 in the morning?”

He chuckled, glancing over at you. “I’m sorry, is there something you’d rather be doing?”

“I can think of a few things.”

“Well maybe we can try some of your ideas when we get there.” He smirked and you laughed reaching your hand out the window.

Your plan didn’t work as well as you thought, as the entryway to the kitchen was just as crowded as the one closest to the living room. You squeezed your way through, trying to find someone you knew who could tell you where to find Colson.

The club was dark and smoky. You had been drinking with Colson for about an hour when you made your way to the dance floor, stumbling over your shoes and shooting Colson a smile. You had asked him to dance with you, but he insisted he was fine watching you.

You used to hate the feeling of so many people so close to you, but since touring with Colson you’d grown accustomed to it. You didn’t like the feeling of foreign hands around your waist, however.

You knew they weren’t Colson’s, his hands were gentle, these were rough, gripping your hips too tight. You reached down, trying to push them off of you, turning around to face the stranger.

“Hi beautiful.” The guy was a few years older than you and he smelled overwhelmingly of alcohol.

“I’m not interested.” You smiled kindly, stumbling away from him. His hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you back to him. With the high alcohol content in your blood, you couldn’t muster up the strength to push him off.

“You’re just gonna walk away from a man like that? I said hi beautiful.” The man’s grip was harsh, and you winced as it tightened.

“And she said she wasn’t interested.” Your chest lightened when you heard Colson’s voice.

The man looked up at Colson, realization hitting him. He let you go, raising his hands up in surrender. “Sorry man, I didn’t know she was your girl. Maybe if she wouldn’t dance like such a slut, I wouldn’t have thought she was single.”

Colson took a step towards the stranger, pushing you behind him. “Excuse me?” He questioned, head tilting.

“Your bitch was the one dancing like sh-“ He was cut off by Colson’s fist connecting with his jaw, sending him to the floor.

“Colson!” You squealed, stepping backwards.

“Don’t ever talk about her like that, or any other girl for that matter. Motherfucker.” Colson moved away from the man, turning to you, and taking you in his arms.

“You didn’t need to do that.” You said softly, wrapping your arms around him.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I know, I just couldn’t stand to hear him talk about you like that. Needed to teach him a lesson.” You nodded into his chest before backing away and taking his hand.

“C’mon, let’s get outta here.” You led him out of the club before security had the chance to throw him out.

As you made your way through the crowd you caught a short glimpse of a familiar red jacket.

“Cols?” You questioned, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror, his red jacket wrapped around your naked body. The man you’d been sleeping with for the past 5 months hummed in response, glancing over at you with a smirk on his face. “Why haven’t you ever written a song about me?”

You thought it was an innocent question. Even though you wouldn’t consider what you were doing a “relationship,” you two had been through enough shit together to warrant a song about it.

“Do you want me to write a song about you?” He questioned, his eyebrow raising.

You shrugged, looking away from the mirror and walking towards his place on the bed. “I just figured; you’ve written so many songs. None of them have been about me.”

He smiled, pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. “I can work on something.” He bit his lip, taking in the view of you on top of him.

You pushed through the crowd, trying to find the jacket again. After pushing through too many drunk rappers than you should ever have to, you saw him. He looked different from the last time you saw him, but he was still Colson.

“Babe,” Colson’s head was propped up by his elbow on the bed so he could face you. You looked over at him, your face still glowing from your last high. Colson took you in, the way your hair fell on the pillow, the way your makeup was slightly smudged, the way the light hit you just right, making you look like an angel.

“I love you.”

You froze at those three words, your breath catching in your throat. You were racking your brain, trying to figure out when you guys went from friends with benefits to this and you couldn’t find one. You thought you were just having fun; you didn’t realize how serious things had gotten for him.

“Don’t say that, Colson.” You whispered, your mind traveling back to the night in the greenroom, when you swore you’d never let yourself be so vulnerable in front of him again.

“What?” His face scrunched in confusion as you sat up, bringing the sheet up to cover your chest. “I mean it.”

“Well then don’t mean it.” You said, climbing out of the bed and pulling your red panties up your legs, throwing your shirt on.

Colson sat up, watching you with sad eyes. “What are you doing?”

You sighed, turning to face him. “I’m sorry, Colson. I thou- I thought we were just having fun. I didn’t realize you felt.” You paused, taking a deep breath, and choosing your words. “I didn’t know you felt like this.”

His face turned to hurt, almost anger. “What the fuck do you think we’ve been doing for the last six months, Y/N?’

You bit your cheek, trying to keep a clear head. “I’m sorry Cols, I didn’t mean to lead you on I just didn’t realize what we were doing was that serious.”

“Are you serious Y/N? You think I just let all the girls I’m hooking up with stay at my house for six months? Do you think I go on drives to the middle of nowhere at 2 am for just anyone?”

“I don’t know,” You were trying to suppress the tears that were pricking your eyes as you realized that all the signs had been in front of you, and you had ignored every one of them. You had led him on worse than you’d ever thought possible. “I’m sorry, Colson, really. I don’t-“ Your head was spinning, and you couldn’t form a coherent thought, much less a coherent sentence.

Colson had brought his hands up to his face, palms pressed against his temples. “God I’m so fucking stupid.” He mumbled to himself. “You know I didn’t sleep with anyone else after what happened in the greenroom? I couldn’t think about anyone but you. Y/N I would give up everyone- hell, I did give up everyone- for you. No one matters to me but you.”

It was like he was pleading with you at this point, begging you to love him back. The breaks in his voice and his sniffles told you he was crying, but you couldn’t feel anything. The world around you had gone numb, and it was all you could do to grab the rest of your clothes and walk out of the room.

“I have to go.” You whispered, wiping your tears, and looking at him one more time.

The last time you had seen the man in front of you, he was absolutely shattered. Now, looking at him, he seemed happy. You admired him as he laughed at something someone said, taking in the shape of his jawline that once was home to a number of your hickeys.

As if he could feel you looking at him, he turned his head, his eyes connecting with yours immediately.

It wasn’t until months later that you sorted out your thoughts. For a while you had pushed down all the memories and feelings you had about the situation, but after 3 months passed you realized how unhealthy it was.

You were spiraling, your memories being replaced with alcohol and drugs. It wasn’t until you were lying on the floor of your tiny apartment and wondering where you were that you realized just how bad you’d gotten.

You checked yourself into rehab a week later, getting help for your addictions and your mangled thoughts. You were finally able to understand your emotions and why you left.

It was two months later that you realized you had loved him too.

Colson’s happy demeaner sunk completely when he saw you, the gleam in his eyes disappearing.

“C’mon man, you can’t stay in there forever.” Slim knocked on the door, jiggling the locked handle.

Colson sat on the floor in your bedroom, a match in one hand and a cigar hanging from his lips. His eyes were red and puffy, his throat raw.

The first 2 months without you were the worst. He hadn’t realized he could feel so strongly about someone, and as soon as he came to terms with his feelings you left him. He finally started to pick himself up, but he could never let you go.

He tried to move on, he really did, but no one made him feel like you. And the way things ended between you didn’t leave any room for resolution.

He lit the match, lighting the cigar in his mouth. He inhaled the smoke, letting the flame burn itself out in his hand until he was left in the darkness.

You nodded your head towards the front door, asking him to meet you outside without words. He nodded, putting on a fake smile to say goodbye to the people he’d been talking to.

It was dark outside, so you stood under the streetlight outside his house. You dug your hands into your jacket pockets, biting your lip. Images of him flashed through your head as you waited for him. When he finally came out of the door, you sent him a small, sad smile.

“Hey.” You tried your best to not be awkward, but there wasn’t much you could do.

“Hey.” His eyes raked over you, taking in the changes two years had made on you. You had done the same thing, so you couldn’t complain.

“I heard your song.” Your voice was softer than you wanted it to be. You wanted to be strong but standing in front of him brought back all of the feelings you’d been trying to overcome. He nodded, looking down. “It’s really good.”

“Thanks.” His eyes wouldn’t meet yours, and you couldn’t blame him.

“Listen Colson,” You took a breath, “I’m not here to try and get you back or anything. I just couldn’t stand to have all that shit out in the world and not resolve it.”

He nodded again, still looking at the floor. “Yeah, yeah I get that.”

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered. “I missed you as soon as I left.” You were hoping for any sign of acknowledgement from him, but you got nothing from him. “I got pretty bad after I left. I started doing all this shit to try and forget about all the shit I put you through, and I had to go to rehab. I got clean, I got help with all of it. And I realized you deserve so much better than me.” You felt tears forming in your eyes.

“That’s why I never.” You had to pause, leveling your voice. “That’s why I never came back.”

He bit his cheek, finally looking up to you. “And I know that not everything was my fault. We both made mistakes but after hearing your song I couldn’t just not tell you that.”

“I, uh, I shouldn’t have released that song. I didn’t mean to hurt you with it or anything.” You shook your head.

“You didn’t hurt me. I mean, it sucked to have that be the song you wrote about me, but it was honest. I think I would’ve been more hurt if you wrote me something dishonest.”

He smiled softly at you, “I mean, it wasn’t completely honest. I definitely didn’t write about all the shit I put you through.” You let out a soft breath, almost like a laugh. “I was an asshole when we first met. You didn’t deserve that shit. You deserve someone who’s gonna treat you right and not try to change you into someone you’re not.”

You smiled at him, a real smile. You went to thank him when he spoke again, “And I just wanna say that I really did love you, and I still do. I think I always will, at least a part of me. But I know it’s never gonna work out, I’ve accepted that. With all our history, it’d just be too toxic. For both of us.”

You nodded, “I love you too. I didn’t realize it until so much later, but I loved you then and I love you now.” You let out a breath. “But I agree, like I said I just wanted to lay this part of my life to rest. Finish it once and for all.”

Colson nodded. “Goodbye Y/N.”

You leaned off the streetlamp, “Goodbye Colson. I hope you find happiness; you deserve it.”

Watching you walk away for the third time, knowing it would be the last time, just didn’t feel right. The battle between his head and his heart was intense, but he knew if he didn’t chase after you now, like he should have all those times before, he would never get another chance.

“Y/N, wait!” He jogged to meet you at your car, grabbing your waist as you turned to face him. Without thinking, he pressed his lips against yours. It wasn’t hungry, or needy, or angry. It was sweet, and passionate. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You didn’t realize just how familiar his lips would feel, even after 2 years. It felt like coming home. When he pulled away, you looked up at him through confused eyes.

He pressed his forehead against yours, hand still on your hip, the other reaching up to touch your cheek. “I’ve watched you walk away from me too many times to let you do it again.” You smiled softly, biting your lip out of nerves. “Honestly, I don’t think I’m ever gonna love anyone else but you, and I can’t lose you, not now that I’ve got the opportunity to get you back.”

You turn your head towards his hand, pressing a small kiss to his palm. Looking into his eyes you saw a different Colson than the boy you knew two years ago. He was still Colson, but he was older, more mature, and so were you. He wasn’t pleading with you, he wasn’t begging you to stay. He was asking if you would. And in that moment you realized just how much you wanted to.

You closed your eyes, taking in a breath. “I’ve never loved anyone else but you.” Your voice was a whisper, the words you said were only for you two to hear. You opened your eyes, staring into his as you continued. “And if you still want me, I’d really like to start over with you.”

Colson smiled, his forehead pressing against you as he nodded. You giggled, and he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’ve always loved hearing you laugh.” He whispered. You pulled him closer to you, capturing his lips in yours and tangling your hands in his hair.

When you finally let him go, you reached up to wipe your lipstick off the corner of his lips, resting your hand on his face and trying to convince yourself this was real. “You wanna come inside?” He whispered, head leaning into your hand.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #in these walls

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davidsons89 · 3 years

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Turner Family - part 1

chapter 1 - “prettiest princess”

Alex Turner x Reader

𝐀/𝐍: i adore writing alex as a father. it helps with my sleep scenarios hehe

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and rock singer alex turner began dating a few years ago. it was nothing serious at first, until a baby came along. then soon came another...

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: mentions of anxiety, light swearing

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: i used random names for the children, please change them if you wish to <3

you and alex aren’t exactly the ideal couple. you’re not even sure if you’re a couple anymore. you’ve been on and off with each other for years, the only thing keeping you close is your five year old daughter olivia. you’re sticking together as a strong couple right now, but you have some news to tell him.

you and alex were dating for a long time before you fell pregnant, the idea of having children never came to his liking. he’s constantly surrounded by his friends kids, but was never interested in having any of his own. the thought of being responsible for a little human was something he dreaded to think about. you were the “it” couple at one point, until that news hit you both unexpectedly. you fought every single day, not a day went by without an argument occurring. alex didn’t want the kid, so you broke up and he disappeared for the entire the pregnancy.

through the whole nine months of carrying your baby, alex gave you hell. you argued over the phone, sent mean text messages to one another, and even threats were involved. all of that caused you stress and made you develop major anxiety, which harmed the innocent life inside you. the reality didn’t hit either of you until she was officially born into the world. that’s when alex came back.

after olivia was born, alex finally adapted to being a father. he realized that the tiny human in his arms was his. his blood, his daughter, his family. you soon resolved your fight and got back together, adjusting to parenthood as a couple. you didn’t trust alex the same way ever again, your anxiety forced you to stress and overthink about little things. over the years, alex tried to be a better boyfriend to benefit you and your daughter, but you’re afraid of abandonment again. you can’t do it alone.

7:34AM

alex walks through the front door to collect olivia, taking her to school. he didn’t come home last night, though he’s normally busy with his friends through the night till early morning. god knows what he could be doing, but it’s fame. you know that. “daddy!” olivia exclaims, running towards alex as he walked through the door. “hi, sweetheart” he says, crouching down to give her a warm hug.

“where’s your mother?” he asks, pulling away from the hug shortly after. “in there.. she’s sad” olivia quietly says, pointing to the living room from the hallway. “sad?” alex frowns, peeking in to see you sat from afar. “go get your shoes and coat on, olivia.” alex says, patting her back to guide her away. he walks into the living room to see why you’re upset.

“y/n, you ok?” he asks, sitting next to you to see your face being covered by your hand, clearly trying to avoid him. “babe?” he says, grasping his hand around your wrist, pulling it down to see your face. he sees your red cheeks and wet, puffy eyes. “what’s wrong, love?” he asks, immediately putting his hand around your back to comfort you. “nothing” you build up the courage to say with your voice cracking and nose sniffling. “it’s not nothing, what is it?” he asks, leaning his head down to look at you, but you keep turning away to ignore him.

“y/n, stop looking away” he says, putting his hand on your chin to gently pull your face toward him. “daddy” olivia says from the doorway, making you and alex look back to see her. “just go.. i’ll tell you later” you wipe your tears and look away. alex sighs and stands up, ready to take olivia to school. “come on, love” he says, putting his hand on her back to guide her out. you feel guilty for not giving her a kiss or a hug goodbye, but you didn’t want her to see you like this. especially what it’s about...

in the car now, alex drives away after strapping himself and olivia in. the first few minutes of the drive is silent, until olivia had a question. “daddy, why is mommy crying?” she innocently asks, worried about her mom. “it’s just hormones. you’ll understand that when you’re a little bit older” he tries to explain the best he can. “what’s hormones?” she frowns. “don’t worry, ok?” he sighs, not taking his eyes off the foggy road ahead of him. it’s the middle of october, mornings are crisp cold and nights are colder.

a few more silent minutes passed. neither of them could think of anything to talk about. you were the only thing on their minds. “so, what you doing at school today?” alex asks, changing the subject to a better one. “arts and crafts” olivia grins cheekily. “yeah? what you gonna make?” he chuckles. “um.. crowns and tiaras because i’m a princess” she giggles adorably, warming alex’s heart. “the prettiest princess of them all” he reaches his hand over to her, tickling her to hear her precious laugh. becoming a father wasn’t something alex wanted, but he’s very glad it happened. his princess is his whole world.

after driving some more, they finally arrived outside the school gates. alex parked up and the two got out of the car. they both held hands as they made their way into the school grounds. alex has olivia’s backpack flung over his shoulder, carrying it for her. alex is well known, even at school, making olivia relatively popular with lots of friends. “there she is” olivia exclaims as the two spot her class teacher from afar. she waits outside for her students every morning. “here you go, sweetheart. have a good day, love you” alex says, dropping her hand to pass her backpack to her. he reaches down and plants a kiss on her forehead before she ran inside to start the school day.

“she’s always full of energy in the mornings” the teacher chuckles, beginning a conversation with alex. “i don’t know where she gets it from” he chuckles, watching his daughter through the window as she sits on a table with her friends. “she’s a wonderful student. i’m very glad to have her in my class” the teacher says, placing her hand on her heart to show kindness. “i’m glad to hear that” alex smiles, the two finish their conversation shortly after.

about twenty minutes later, alex arrived back at the house. you hear the car door shut outside, so you quickly wipe the tears you’d been crying. he walks in, and immediately joins you in the living room to talk to you. “you’re still crying? jesus, y/n, what’s wrong?” he asks, sitting next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

your head falls onto his shoulder, where you continue to cry. he patiently waits for you to speak, he isn’t rushing you or forcing you to talk. he waits. “i don’t want you to leave me again” you sniffle, tightly wrapping your arms around him. he feels bad, but wants to know why you’re thinking of that.

“why do you say that, darling?” he asks softly, comforting you while you cry. “i can’t tell you” you shake your head, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck so you could avoid him. “you can. you can tell me, i won’t leave you. never again” he reassures, teaching his hands down to your face to pull your head up. he cups your cheeks in his hands and looks into your eyes, he sees how upset you are but can’t imagine why. you place your hands on his wrists to try and pull him away, but he doesn’t let you. “no, talk to me. it’s ok, i’m here” he says, rubbing your tears away with his thumbs on your face.

you fell silent for a few moments, trying to build up the courage to tell him what you’d been hiding all morning. “it’s ok” he whispers, looking into your eyes as he waited for you to speak, ever so patiently. you stare into his eyes and take a deep, shaky breath. you open your mouth and hesitated to speak, but you needed to get it out otherwise you’d feel worse. “i’m pregnant” you quietly blurt out, rolling your eyes, expecting him to be angry again.

he doesn’t say or do anything, so you look directly into his eyes. he looks shocked, his eyebrows are raised and he seems lost for words. “oh..” he responded after moments of not answering. “it’s ok, i don’t expect you to stay” you sigh, sniffling as you make yourself upset again. he sees your tears coming back, so he pulls you in again, immediately hugging you tightly. “shh.. it’s ok” he whispers, rubbing your back as you cry into his chest. you’re both feeling an incredible amount of emotions, unsure whether they’re good or bad ones.

“are you mad?” you ask shakily, not raising your head from his chest. “no i’m not mad. of course i’m not” he whispers, hugging you tighter than he possibly could. his reaction is much different from last time, which shocked you more than the news shocked him. when he found out you were pregnant the first time, he was angry and violent with his words. the two of you would fight for hours on end, yelling at each other. but now, he’s different . he’s the one telling you to calm down and that it’s gonna be ok.

“if you don’t want the baby it’s ok.. i’ll get rid of—” you begin to say in panic, willing to do anything he wanted if it meant he wouldn’t leave you again. “y/n, stop it.” he cuts you off, shushing you and rubbing the back of your head to comfort you. “i totally understand if you don’t want it” you sniffle shakily, your thoughts racing as you overthink. “please stop talking. you’re being silly” he says, shaking his head as he pulls you further into his chest. you do nothing but cry tears and more tears.

you took a few minutes to calm down, in which you managed to control your breathing and finally gained courage to look at him again. he’s holding your red stained cheeks in his hands, brushing his thumb under your eyes to catch your fallen tears. “let’s talk about this, ok?” he raises his eyebrows as the two of you lock eyes onto one another. you nod, waiting to hear what he has to say.

“i want the baby” he says, nodding his head. you furrow your eyebrows with shock and confusion. he kicked up enough of a fuss last time, but now he’s fine with it. “you do?” you ask, still frowning. “i want olivia to be a big sister. and i love being a dad” he reassures you, smiling to see you smile.

“but.. i didn’t think you’d want to stay because of last time...” you say nervously, quietening down as you finish your sentence. “y/n, that was almost six years ago. things are much different” he sighs. he loves being a dad, he loves having a family of his own. he’s more than happy to welcome another child into his world.

“ok..” you take a deep breath, taking in the news and sniffling to keep yourself calm, trying not to start another breakdown again. “look, we’re fucking great parents. we make beautiful babies” he chuckles, pinching your cheeks cutely to make you giggle, and it worked. “i wasn’t ready to be a dad last time, but this time i am. i promise i’ll be here the whole time. whenever you need me” he says, pulling you in for a hug. you wrap your arms around one another and share this sweet moment.

“i’m so sorry for what i did last time. i was cruel and stupid, i’ll never put you through that again” he makes a promise to you, kissing your forehead and holding you close. you can tell how sorry he is, the guilt breaking through his voice. he knows how anxious you get over everything, how hormonal and emotional you get when the two of you have a disagreement. you’re scared of abandonment, and he feels at fault but is trying to make up for what he did, and he will make it up to you.

“we’ll get through this together, and be blessed with another angelic baby. i love you” he cheers you up, kissing you on the forehead every few moments to show you how much he really cares. and if he didn’t care, he’d have already walked out the second you told him. he loves you, he really does.

“it won’t be angelic.. you never get two” you chuckle to enlighten the mood. alex chuckles with you. “olivia was so good as a baby, this one’s gonna cry non stop. it happens to everyone” you giggle and wipe your leftover tears, you felt happy now. “well don’t jinx it” he says, pushing you away from the hug slowly. “how are we even gonna tell people?” you ask. “it’s halloween soon, maybe we could tell everyone at your moms?” alex suggests.

your mom hosts halloween parties for family and friends every year, so it would be a great idea to let everyone know at the same time. “yeah, that’s good” you say, pointing your finger at him to agree with his plan. you both begin to settle down in the living room for a while. it began storming outside, which was such a comforting weather while you’re snuggled up on the sofa. you shift your legs from the sofa to the floor as you lay against alex’s chest while watching a movie. “where you going?” he asks, feeling you about to move. “to grab a snack” you say, lifting your body up but alex pulls you back down.

“i’ll get it” he grins at you, showing you that he wants to take care of you during this pregnancy. he will literally do everything to have you trust him again, you’re still not 100% on it, your trust issues from last time haunt you. “ok” you giggle as alex stands up, walking to the kitchen to grab you a snack.

he takes a little while, so you wonder what the hell he’s doing. “alex” you raise your voice so he’d hear you from the kitchen. “what?” he yells back. “hurry up you’re missing the movie” you say, unable to pause the screen as it’s on a television channel. “my bad” he says, walking back into the living room and sitting next to you. he hands you a bowl of cut up fruit, so you smile at his effort. “aww” you giggle, looking at him. he takes a piece of strawberry from the bowl and places it near your lips. you take a bite, and he eats the rest of the bitten strawberry.

“i’m gonna be here with you and olivia the whole time, ok?” he begins to talk. he really wants you to know how much he’s committed. “i’m gonna take some time off to be with you” he says, you look at him and immediately shake your head. “you can’t stop your music” you frown. “i’m not gonna stop, family’s more important right now” he nods his head. “i’m really sorry for what happened last ti—” be begins to talk, but you completely shut him up. “alex, alex, shush” you cut him off by speaking above his level.

“the past is in the past.. you’re a great dad and i know you’ve changed” you smile to show him your understanding of the situation. he will forever feel guilty about being the main cause of your stress, anxiety and trust issues because he’s the one who caused you shit while you were pregnant. he ignored you, practically ghosted you while you needed him most, begging for him. you cried almost everyday, you felt alone and thought you’d face motherhood all by yourself, but he came back.

“the reason i was so scared to show you is because i know you’ve never wanted to be a dad, one kid is hard but two kids will be harder. i just didn’t want you to disappear again” you sigh, explaining to him. “i’m making this promise to you now. i’ll never do that again, not to you or olivia.” he says, grasping your free hand with his, holding it firmly to show how much he really cares. a few moments of silence went by, the same time as thunder rumbled outside. you glare into each other’s eyes and really feel each other’s love.

“i love you” he whispers, smiling as he brings your hand up to his mouth and plants a kiss on your skin. you smile, feeling his apology through his soft lips. “i love you too” you warmly smile, feeling forgiveness in your words. “and we do make the prettiest babies, you’re right” you giggle, pulling your hand away from his to grab another piece of fruit from the bowl. “fuck yeah we do. the turner babies will be models” he chuckles, picking at your fruit bowl too. you spend the rest of the morning into midday watching movies and sharing each other’s love through the stormy, gloomy weather outside, snuggled up on the sofa.

#alex turner #arctic monkeys

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Office Neighbors - Part Two

a/n: here we are! a little shorter than part one, but there’s some good stuff in here I think! enjoy! (also reblogs/feedback is super helpful) not proofread

warnings: fluff, slight smut (but not with who you think)

words: 10K

masterpost

You groan heavily when your alarm goes off at 5AM Tuesday morning. You wanted to make sure your body had time to go to the bathroom before Harry picked you up. You knuckle at your eyes, and then get out of bed. You make yourself a quick iced coffee, and then get dressed. You decide on a cropped pair of leggings and one of your t-shirts that wicks away sweat. You pack an extra pair of socks, another shirt, and another sports bra just in case you get really sweaty. You make yourself some trail mix, and throw an extra water into your pack. Harry said he would bring actual sandwiches for the two of you. You get your ponytail through your hat, and use the bathroom again before waiting him.

Harry: here

You grab your pack and head out to his car. He had similar attire on as he did when you hiked with him the last time. Shorts, a sleeveless top, bandana and clip holding his hair back. You both nod at each other. It was still too early to speak. When you get to the trailhead you both spray each other with bug spray and begin.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” You speak up.

“Why, you in a hurry?” He smirks at you.

“No.” You nudge him. “Just wondering.”

“It’s about two and half miles up. It’s gradual, but there are also some really steep parts. If I were jogging, it would only take a couple of hours, but we can take our time. That’s why I wanted to leave so early.”

“You’ve…you’ve jogged this?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “It’s just running uphill.”

“Big nope from me.” You laugh. “I like the idea of just taking our time.”

“You get a fuller experience that way, I think. Don’t be afraid to tell me you need a break too. Some of the steeper parts are killer.”

“Will do.”

You both talk about your fall courses, what you plan to do differently, if anything. You talk about how you’re actually excited to have some student advisees, and how you might approach the meetings.

“It’s okay not to be super serious. Most importantly, you just need to listen, which you should have no problem with. You’re a good listener.” He says, blushing slightly.

“Sort of trained to be one.” You chuckle. “But I get what you mean. Now that I know the curriculum and the course sequence a little better, I definitely feel more confident to lead them in the…wow…that is steep.” You gulp as you look at the area ahead.

“We’ll just take our time.” He smiles. “It’s not a race.”

You make it up the first steep hump, and you tell him you need a water break.

“Christ, and here I thought I was in shape.”

“Hiking can be pretty humbling.” He uses a rag to wipe some sweat from his forehead, and takes a drink of water as well. “All set?”

“Mhm, let’s keep going.”

Every so often you stop to take pictures, and there is a moment where Harry veers off so he can have a “wee”, as he would call it. You had drank half your bottle of water and you definitely needed to pee too, but you were too embarrassed.

“Are you sure you don’t need to go?”

“I’m fine.”

“Look, that’s a flatter area, you could-“

“What if I get a mosquito bite…down there?” You whisper.

“It’s not mosquito season.” He laughs. “Did you bring some T-“

“Yes.” You mumble.

“So, just go, it’s fine. You’re being silly. I’ll stand right over there and keep watch.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe I’m doing this.” You groan and take the bit of toilet paper you brought out of your bag. Your eyes stay glued to the back Harry’s head while you do your business. You stick your rubbish into a plastic bag and stuff it away, then you use some hand sanitizer. “Okay.”

“All set?” He turns to look at you. “Not so bad, was it?”

“Not something I’d like to make a habit of, but no, it wasn’t terrible.”

It takes about two and half hours to get to the summit. You both were sticky with sweat, but it was worth it from the view alone.

“Oh my god.” You say slowly as you look around. “This is incredible.”

“Isn’t it? I feel so lucky to live here.”

“I’m starting to feel the same way for sure.” You take a few photos before sitting down, letting out a sigh.

You look over at Harry who’s taking his shirt off and your eyes widen. You knew about the birds on his collar bones, but the butterfly and the ferns were a complete surprise. Harry had such a nice body. He was toned, but still had a softness to him. He notices you looking at him and he blushes.

“Sorry, I’m soaked.”

“No, it’s okay…sorry, I just…your tattoos, I haven’t seen those ones.”

“Oh…” He looks down at himself. “I got these so long ago. Got a few more you haven’t seen.” He pulls up one side of his shorts so you can see the tiger on his thigh.

“Didn’t those huge ones hurt?”

“Eh.” He says sitting down next to you, grabbing a sip of his water. “Some did and some didn’t. The trick is to get a little tipsy beforehand.” He winks at you. He leans back on his elbows and closes his eyes for a moment before looking out at the view again.

“You know, I think you had the right idea about the shirt…do you mind?”

“What?”

“Well, if I took mine off for a bit. I packed myself a spare, but-“

“Oh! Yeah, um, I don’t care, uh, do what makes you comfortable.”

You nod and peel your shirt off. You lay it on the ground next to you, feeling better already from the breeze hitting your hot skin. You were glad you thought to wear one of your cuter sports bras. Your heart was racing slightly, mostly because it had been a while since you had last taken your clothes off in front of someone, but it was just Harry, after all.

“I brought some peanut butter sandwiches, are you hungry? I know it’s not exactly lunch time, but-“

“That sounds amazing, I’m starving. I didn’t eat beforehand.”

“You didn’t?!” He sits up fully.

“I didn’t want to have to…really go to the bathroom.”

“Oh, Y/N.” He laughs while he gets the sandwiches out of his pack. “Here.”

“Thank you.” She notices his eyes drift to her cleavage. It was only for a moment, and she didn’t mind it.

“No problem.”

If Harry were twenty-years-old he’d probably try to make a move. Kiss you, press you up against a tree, fuck, put his hand over your mouth so other hikers wouldn’t be able to hear you moan. But he wasn’t twenty-years-old, he was thirty-two, and he had an eleven-year-old son who he wouldn’t want to treat a woman like that. He wanted to set a good example, to show him how a respectful man treats a woman. So, he eats his own sandwich, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but your body.

“Do you want some trail mix?” You take it out of your bag.

“Sure! Thanks.” He reaches his hand in the bag and takes some out.

You guzzle down some more of your water and stand up. You didn’t want to sit too long and get stiff.

“Harry, would you take my picture?”

“Of course.” He stands up and takes your phone. He smiles at your smile as he snaps the photo.

“How about a selfie?”

“Of the two of us?”

“Yeah.”

“Like this?” You made him so fucking nervous, he was never like this with anyone else.

“I don’t care if you don’t. I’ll just stand here, and you can stand in front of me to get the shot.”

“Oh, right.” He thought to maybe put his arm around you, but that clearly wasn’t happening. You both smile and he takes the shot.

“Do you two want a picture?” A woman says. She was with a couple of other people. “I’d be happy to take it for you.”

“That would be great!” You snatch your phone from Harry’s hand and give it to her. “Are you still sweaty?” You look up at him.

“I don’t think so.”

“Good.” You put your arm around his waist, and he puts an arm around you, hand on your shoulder.

“Alright, I took a couple.”

“Thank you so much, would your group like any?”

“Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

You take a few photos for the group and then you look over the photos of you and Harry.

“These are great.” You smile and show him.

“You’ll send those to me, yeah?”

“Of course.”

“I’m walking down like this, I don’t wanna get my spare shirt sweaty. I was thinking we could grab a real lunch after this…if you don’t mind me taking up your entire day that is.”

“I would love nothing more than to stuff my face after this, Har.”

You decide to just go down in your sports bra, not wanting to get your spare shirt sweaty either. The way down feels like it takes no time at all. It was definitely easier to hike down a mountain than to hike up a mountain. That is, until you got to one of the steeper parts.

“Just step down on the side and take slow steps. Don’t go straight down.”

“Would, um, hold my hand? I’m a little nervous.”

“Of course.” He looks back at you and takes your hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

He helps you down the steeper parts, taking your hand each time until things get more gradual again. You feel incredibly proud of yourself once you’re back at the parking area.

“That was amazing, Harry. I feel amazing.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“Andy’s done that with you before?”

“Oh, sure. Plenty of times.”

“Incredible.” You chuckle as you grab your spare bra and shirt from your pack. Harry dabs his chest with a rag before putting his t-shirt on. “Shit, where should I change?”

“Um…backseat?”

“I’ll just be a second.”

He nods and waits outside the car while you quickly change. You feel so much relief letting your breasts free, giving yourself a second to cool off before putting your fresh bra on. You pull your t-shirt on overhead and get out to sit in the passenger seat. Harry hops in the driver’s seat and off you go.

“I can’t believe it’s only 12:30.”

“Another benefit of getting up early. Did you see how full the lot was? People are so uneducated. I’d never start a hike now.”

“I know! There were so many people going up when we were coming down. I couldn’t believe it.”

“And now they’ll have to rush.”

“Have you ever hiked at night before?”

“I have, actually. I used to help lead this moonlit hike thing during move-in weekend for first year students. It was a lot of fun.”

“How come you stopped?”

“Not a junior faculty anymore.” He shrugs. “I just didn’t feel like it after a certain point. I still help with other things, but I definitely don’t give up all my free time to the school anymore.”

“I volunteered for that casino night last fall. I was on campus until almost midnight, I was pooped. Sometimes those kids make me feel so old.”

“You’re not old.” He chuckles.

“I mean, I know, I just feel out of touch sometimes.”

“How can a person who studies social media feel out of touch?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“It’s more so the lingo. I was giving a lecture, and I made a really great point, and when I was done one student shouted ‘period’ and everyone laughed. I had to look it up on urban dictionary.” You both laugh at that.

Harry drives into town, and parks near the local diner.

“How do you feel about brunch?”

“Sounds amazing.”

You both get out and head inside. The morning rush was gone already, so you’re sat right away. You both inhale your food. Greasy hash browns and omelets. And coffee, a lot more coffee. You split the bill and Harry starts the drive to your apartment.

“So, you’ll hike with me again?”

“I’ll hike with you again.” You nod with a smile. “Do you think Andy will be jealous?”

“Nah, he already knows. I’m sure he’ll be expecting lots of details.”

“About what?”

“Um, just how the view was and all that.”

“Right.” He pulls up in front of your house, and you both look at each other. “One of these days you’ll let me pick you up.” You unbuckle your seat belt and he nods. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime.”

“I’d hug you…but I’m a little gross, so…”

“No worries.”

“Well…” You weren’t sure what the next time you were going to see him was.

“Sometimes, while Andy is still in school, I’ll use the library on campus to work on things. It’s got a/c…less stuffy than our offices. I usually only go on a rainy day, but-“

“Cute, we can study together like classmates.” You giggle. “I’ll let you know if I decide to use the space.” You smile and get out of the car.

Harry was enjoying his shower, it was quick, but it was good to clean off. He throws on some comfy clothes and nearly dozes off on the couch.

“Dad, I’m home!” Andy shouts, immediately waking him up. “How was the hike?” He plops down on the couch next to Harry.

“It was good, Y/N had a nice time.”

“Is she going to come camping with us?”

“I’m…not sure.” He sighs. “That’s not something just a friend would join in on, you know?”

“I don’t, but…”

“I’m not going to press her about it, I think she’s thinking it over. We’ve got time yet…” He sits up a little straighter. “When Mum comes to get you on Friday she’s going to come in for a bit and chat.”

“About what?”

“What you want to do this summer.”

“I spend summers with you.”

“Yes, but usually you spend the school year with her, that’s why you get me over the summer.”

“You don’t want me this summer?” He leans into him to rest his head on Harry’s chest, and Harry puts his arm around his son.

“Of course I do, but your Mum wants you too. I don’t know, I’m going to propose she get you for July, and I get you for August, I think that’s a good compromise, but she may not see it that way.”

“What about June?”

“Well, you have school for most of June, so you could go be with her end of June through July. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? I wouldn’t hate having my own lake to swim in every day.”

“I guess that’s true…and Noah’s boat is pretty cool.” He sighs.

“I just wanted to give you the heads up.”

“Thanks.”

Harry was up reading in bed later that night. The rain had started and he could hear it tapping on his window, almost starting to lull him to sleep. He heard his phone buzz and his eyes lit up when he saw it was you.

You: hey! Almost forgot to send these to you!

You sent along all of the photos from the day.

Harry: thanks! Really glad that lady was there to take these of us

You: me too…so when exactly is this camping trip?

Harry: middle of June…when Andy gets out of school…June 20th I think

You: if I really won’t be intruding, I think I’d like to go. I’m trying to do more things to get out of my comfort zone

Harry: are you serious?! He’ll be so excited…I mean, I’m excited too.

Harry: I think he wants his friend Brandon to come so having another adult there would be a huge help

He didn’t want his first text to sound too eager.

You: lol well I’m happy to help how I can ;p you’ll tell me what to pack and all that right? I literally have no idea what I would need for overnight stuff

Harry: if you can get yourself a sleeping bag you’ll be all set, I have two tents and a ton of camping stuff. You would just want to bring your own food, clothes, etc.

You: alright sounds good :)

Harry hadn’t told Andy about you coming on the trip just yet. He wanted to save it as good news in case the conversation about summer with Paige didn’t go well.

“I guess let’s just start.” Paige says after eating a quick dinner with Harry and Andy in Harry’s home. “Ideally, what would you prefer?” She asks her son.

“To not go back and forth a lot. It stresses me out, I feel like I need to remember every little thing I don’t have two of.”

“Do you have any vacations or anything planned?” Harry asks, looking at his planner. “Right now for us it’s just the camping trip, and that’ll only be the weekend he gets out of school.”

“I was hoping to have him for the fourth. The Barrett’s are coming to staycation at the rental two doors down.”

“Really?!” Andy perks up. “I like when they visit.”

“So…why not spend the rest of June with me,” Harry begins. “You could do July with mum, and then come back to me mid-August.”

“That actually sounds good to me.” Paige says.

“What about Brandon?”

“It’s only a thirty minute drive, I’m sure his dad won’t mind it when you two wanna hang out. Hell, I’ll even come pick you up and bring back here if need be.”

“And if there’s a weekend you wanna just come see Dad in July, you can. You won’t be held hostage.”

“It’s just…you work during the day, Mum.”

“I know honey, but Noah’s got the home office. He can stay in with you and Rachel, and you two could go swimming and have fun at the lake. He could take you on boat rides too.”

“Okay.”

“Really?” She says.

“Yeah, I think all that seems fair.” He looks at the two of them. “I know…I know I can be sort of difficult sometimes, and I’m really grateful that I got to spend the school year with Dad, and I really hope I get to do it again…”

“I think that can be arranged.” Paige smiles. “You’ve never done so well in school, we’re both so proud of you.”

“Yeah, bud, I think this school was a good fit for you.”

“So…I’ll be able to do it again next year, I can keep living with you?”

“If that’s what you want, Mum and I are okay with this new arrangement.”

Andy shoots out of his seat and hugs the both of them.

“Go on and get your things for the weekend, sweetheart.” Paige smiles.

“Okay!” Andy races into his room.

“You’re surprisingly cool with all this.” Harry says to her as they both stand.

“I want him to be happy, and if he’s happier here then what can I do?” She shrugs. “Are you alright continuing to take all this on?”

“Yeah, plus he’s getting older. He can be home for a bit before I am.” Paige hums her response. “How, um, how did you feel about my friend?”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“She was really nice! She seems sweet, why?”

“She’s going to come camping with us.” Harry whispers. “And I just wanted to make sure you felt comfortable with it.”

“Oh, Harry.” Paige smiles. “Thank you, yeah, I’m perfectly fine with it. Andy seems to really like her.”

“Who?” Andy says, coming out with his backpack and duffle.

“Y/N.” Harry says. “I told her how you wanted Brandon to come camping, and I’ll need some help, so she’s coming camping with us.”

“She is?! Oh my god, we gotta work on your flirting then, Dad. You need help.”

“Excuse me? I’m great at flirting.” He scoffs. “Back me up.” He says to Paige.

“It’s true, Andy.” She chuckles. “Your dad can really turn on the charm when he wants to.”

“Well, you didn’t see him trying to ask her to come to my birthday party. I thought he was going to wet his pants!” He laughs.

“Oi, I was just trying to play it cool before you blurted it out.”

“So, what, you have a thing for her?” Paige asks.

“I like her, yeah.”

“Does she like you?”

“She must if she’s coming overnight with us, right?”

“You know, I’ve never really known you to hold back with a woman you liked before…” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“I work with her, it’s a little more complicated. She’s mentioned a couple of times how she doesn’t think dating in the workplace is smart, just offhand, so I’ve been nervous.”

“I think you guys should hang out again before the trip.” Andy says. “Oh! You could go to her place to help her pack.”

“I’m not gonna invite myself over!” Harry rolls his eyes. “Alright, that’s enough. Go have a good weekend with Mum.”

Andy laughs and gives his dad a hug before leaving with Paige.

“God, you feel so good, it’s been way too long.” Ray grunts in your ear. “Should have never stopped doing this.”

Ray was an old flame from your previous institution. You decided to go home to Boston this weekend because your brother had some new recipes he wanted you to try. You happened to bump into Ray at a bar, and went with him back to his place for some promised fun. He was a decent enough fuck, he knew how to scratch your itch, and that was good enough right now. Although, you didn’t feel the need to answer his dirty talk. You just grunt and moan and try to focus on what you’re after.

You’re close, but you’re not quite getting there. He was fucking into you from behind, and hitting the right spots, but it wasn’t…it just wasn’t…

Harry.

Your fingers slip to your clit, and you rub harsh circles into yourself as Ray continues to fuck into you. Your eyes pinch closed, and suddenly there are tattooed arms around you. A raspy, deep voice in your ear.

“Come on, you can do it. Show how you make yourself come.”

Your eyes snap open and roll back when you feel your release. You cry out and collapse onto the bed after Ray spills into the condom. You get up after catching your breath to use the bathroom. Ray watches as you put your clothes on.

“Going so soon?”

“Yeah, I’m staying with my brother…be sort of weird not to come back tonight.”

“It was great to be able to do this again.”

“Yeah.” You smile and kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for the fun.”

On your uber ride back, it starts to settle into your mind that you just had to fantasize about your friend, Harry Styles, to get off while having sex with someone else. This wasn’t an accidental dream, this was on purpose.

“Shit.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. This camping trip wasn’t going to be easy.

Harry: hey! Was wondering if you want to come out and have some ice cream with Andy and I? He got straight A’s! Think it’s worth celebrating.

You: oh wow! Sure, I could definitely meet up for ice cream. Just at the place down town?”

Harry: yup! 6:30PM work?

You: sure! See you soon :)

Harry: :)

“Andy…”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Wh…what’s this?” He shows Andy the text conversation on his phone.

“Oh…I, uh, asked Y/N to get ice cream with us while you were in the shower.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me to ask her?!”

“Does it matter? She said yes.”

“Of course it matters! Ugh, I can’t believe I’m gonna have to change my passcode again.” He reads over the conversation again. “I should ground you or something…no toppings on your ice cream.”

“But-“

“Sorry, thems the rules.” Harry smirks and grabs his keys.

You were waiting patiently outside of the ice cream shop for the two of them. You smile when you see Harry’s car pull up. They both get out and greet you.

“Congratulations, Andy.”

“Thanks!” He gives you a quick hug before going inside. You and Harry follow.

“Hey, uh…” He grabs your wrist. “Not that I’m upset or anything…but he actually stole my phone and texted you.”

“Oh!” You start laughing. “Glad I didn’t say anything naughty then.” You wink and walk up to the ice cream counter. You all get your ice cream and sit at a table across the street in the town common. “No toppings, Andy? I’m surprised you didn’t get a sundae.”

“Dad said I couldn’t.” He huffs, and bites into his mint chip ice cream.

“That’s what you get for stealing my phone, you little bugger.” Harry jostles the hair on Andy’s head, and Andy swats his hand away. “Did you have a nice weekend with your brother?”

You nearly choke on your ice cream. You clear your throat and nod.

“Yeah, um, yeah it was good. He came up with this new sauce for his raviolis, it was delicious.”

“Do anything else? Must be nice to go to a city that has things open past 9PM.” He chuckles.

“Um, yeah, I mean I went out, but nothing too exciting to report back.” You were blushing slightly. “So, Andy, straight A’s, how’d you manage that?”

“Brandon and I call each other to do homework a lot. He’s really smart.”

“So are you, don’t sell yourself short. You’ve worked hard this year.” Harry says.

“Yeah, but Brandon’s, like, really smart.” You furrow your brows a little as your lips curve up. It almost sounded like Andy was swooning. “He’s really excited to come camping with us this weekend. Are you excited too, Y/N?”

“I’m…excited to see how it goes.” You laugh. “Should be interesting to say the least. Instead of you coming to get me I could just meet you at your house so we can leave from there.”

“That would be great. Brandon’s sleeping over the night before so we can just get up and go.”

“You should sleep over too, Y/N.” Andy says.

“Andy.” Harry says to him.

“I’ll need all the sleep I can get before camping, and in order to do that I need my own bed, but thank you very much for the offer.” You smile.

“I could swing by the night before, though, and pack everything up in the car.” Harry says.

“Now there’s an idea.” You say with a grin.

“Okay, I’m trusting you both to be good while I’m gone for a bit. I shouldn’t be out too long, but still. Please be good.”

“We’re literally watching a movie then going to sleep, I don’t think we’re going to burn the house down.” Andy says, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, Mr. Styles, go see your girlfriend, we’ll be fine.”

“She’s not my…” He sighs. “I’ll be back soon.”

Harry drives to your apartment, and you buzz him in when he gets there. You had gotten caught up all day doing research, so you were running around in a tank top, shorts, and socks. Your door was open for him. It was the first time he had ever been inside your place.

“Y/N?”

“Coming!” You yell from your bedroom. “I’m so sorry, I’m not quite all there yet.” You say, dragging out your pack. “I can’t seem to get the sleeping bag on here without it unravelling.” You look up at him and pout.

Harry was sweating. Even though he had seen you in just a sports bra and leggings, this was almost more revealing.

“I can, uh, get it to stay on there tighter for you.”

“You’re amazing.” You go back into your room to pull out a couple of more things. “I definitely over packed…it’s going to be too heavy.”

“I kept some room in mine in case this happened, no worries.” He gets the sleeping bag tied on correctly. “There we go.” He stands up and is suddenly only inches away from you.

“Let me give you the tour.” You step back. “It’s a two bedroom, I use the other one as an office. It’s way too much of a mess to show you but, that’s the living room.” You show him. “Got a half bath over there, and full bath down the hall, kitchen…and that’s my bedroom.”

“It’s really nice.” He walks around with his hands behind his back. “You’re really good at decorating. Are you sure you didn’t go to school for interior design?” He raises an eyebrow at you, making you giggle.

“No, but it’s certainly a hobby of mine. It relaxes me to look through magazines and go to stores to get ideas.”

“Your office at work has the perfect balance. Mine must look all over the place.”

“No! I love your office, it’s very inviting.”

“Thanks.” He looks you up and down. “Are these the, uh, pj’s you packed for camping? You may get cold.”

“I’m not an idiot, I packed sweats.”

“Oh…good.”

“What are the sleeping arrangements going to be like?”

“Well, I have two tents. One for the boys, and then I have this larger one I figured we could, um, share…if it’s not too buggy I may sleep outside. Would you feel comfortable being in the same tent?”

“Sure.” You shrug. “I was going to make some tea, would you like some, or do you need to get back to them?”

“They should be fine on their own for a bit longer, a cup of tea sounds great.”

You nod, and his eye grows when he notices a park on the back of one of your shoulders. It looked like a fading bite mark. He glares at you without you seeing. Who the fuck did that to you? He wonders. It should be him leaving marks on you.

“So, when you went to Boston, you really didn’t do much?” He asks as he sits down at your kitchen island.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly going to get into it in front of your son.” You chuckle and turn your electric kettle on. “I went out to an old bar I used to go to when I was living in the area, ran into an old friend.”

“And how was that?”

“Okay.” You shrug, and put two tea bags into a couple of mugs. You pour the water over them and put one in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So…you and this friend…” He just wanted to confirm if his suspicion was true. “Did anything happen?”

“Like what?” Harry rolls his eyes at you. “Oh! Harry…”

“Come on, you can tell me.” He was trying to pal around, he just needed to know the truth.

“He was an ex-boyfriend…and…yada yada yada.” You sip your tea. “I don’t know why I did it…guess I just wanted to feel close to someone, and it was easy with someone familiar.”

“Right, I get that.” It stung to hear. “Paige and I hooked up a few times after we ended it. Sometimes you just wanna be with someone who knows what you like without you having to say it.” He thought he’d sting you a bit too.

“Mhm.” You didn’t want to think about Paige getting to fuck Harry. Perhaps if you had been drunk you would have asked him what he liked.

“Well, I should probably get going. Early day tomorrow and all, thanks for the tea.”

He grabs your pack and you walk him to the door.

“I’ll be at your place for seven. See you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning.”

You drive to Harry’s house in the morning, and the kids burst outside with a little too much energy for you so early. Harry says hello to you, and you notice he’s not wearing his glasses, something he rarely did.

“Morning.” He mumbles.

“Morning.” You open the passenger car door and get in. The boys climb in the backseat.

“Alright.” Harry turns to look at them. “I had to listen to you two hyenas all night. I’d like a nice, quiet ride to the trail head, got it?”

“Yes.” They both say at the same time.

You smile at Harry and he winks at you as he pulls out of the driveway. It’s about a forty-five minute long ride to the trail head. Harry parks and gets everything out of the car. The boys walk a few paces ahead of you and Harry like you expected them to.

“So, they kept you up?”

“You have no idea. I must have told them three times to knock it off.” He groans. “Little…twats.” He says under his breath and you can’t help but laugh.

“I heard that!” Andy says without looking.

“Good, you were supposed to!”

“Are you his father or his brother?” You tease.

“He’s just trying to act cool in front of his friend.” Harry nods toward Brandon. “Which I get, but I can’t let him get away with too much.”

“So, how come people tend to do this overnight?”

“Well, it’s about five miles up, and that’ll take the majority of the day. It’s not really safe to hike at night, so we set up camp, have dinner, hang out, and then once the sun goes down we’ll set up a campfire and stuff like that.”

“I’m excited to see the sun rise.”

“Yeah, that’s the best part. I taught Andy about sun salutations so we’ll be doing that too.”

“And you’ll teach me too, right?”

“Of course, you can follow right along.”

You smile at each other and keep walking. You all take your time, enjoying the scenery around you. An hour or so in you all stop to take water and snack breaks. The boys go off to have a wee, and then you keep going.

“So, you said there’s no shower at these bathrooms, right?”

“No, there’s not. But you can use the sink, and they do have men’s and women’s separate restrooms, so you’ll have some privacy.”

“Okay, great. I just didn’t want to feel gross when we go to sleep.” Harry nods at you. “It’s such a beautiful day. I’m really glad I’m here with you.” You clear your throat. “With all of you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

At one point you needed to stop to pee. Harry got the boys to not giggle and tease you, somehow, as you took a few moments to get yourself situated. You were about midway, and Harry knew the part of the trail where you could see out just a little bit. It was nice and flat, and the perfect spot for lunch. They were light lunches, veggies, nuts, and more water. Harry explained it wouldn’t be good to fill up too much because it would make going up a mountain that much more difficult.

“When will you two know what class you’re in next year? Sixth grade, that’s pretty wild.” You say to Brandon and Andy.

“Next year they’re putting us on teams. You either still have two teachers or four.” Andy explains. “We wanna be on the four team.”

“Why’s that?” You ask.

“Because then you’re not stuck in the same two classrooms all day.” Brandon says. “It’ll make the day go by faster.”

“That’s what a kid on the basketball team told us, anyways.” Andy shrugs. “We heard the four team has nicer teachers too.”

“I just hope they don’t put one of us on the four team and the other on the two team, that would be the worst.” Brandon says.

“Is it by last name or anything?” Harry asks.

“We have no idea, when we asked our fifth grade teachers they didn’t really say there was much reason behind who gets what.” Andy says. “I’ll worry about it in August.”

“Yeah, I don’t even want to think about school right now.” Brandon says.

“Y/N, do you still do work over the summer like Dad does?” Andy asks.

“Yes, I’m still technically in school. So I do research like Dad, but mine is so I can become a doctor like him, he just does it to keep his name out there.” She nudges him playfully.

“Oi, my work is more than just for vanity, thank you very much.”

“I don’t know Dad, I think Y/N has a point. I’ve seen you do your research.” Andy grins.

“Oh, this I’d love to hear.”

“Dad watches really sad romance movies, cries, and then pauses the movie to take notes about how he’s feeling.”

“I do that to compare to the books that the films are based off of, and I see how I felt while reading the book versus watching the movie. I also make notes about the cinematography and mise en scene, because music-“

“Mr. Styles, you lost me at the cinnamon tography…” Brandon says and everyone laughs.

After lunch you get going again. You’re amazed that the boys don’t need a lot of breaks and don’t seem tired. They get excited when they see certain critters or flowers. As you get closer to the top, you notice it getting a little steeper. Harry had the biggest pack on, and you were fucking floored that he wasn’t huffing and puffing his way up. He was sweating for sure, but he was in no way struggling. Impressive, to say the least.

“Dad! I recognize this part, we’re almost there!” Andy exclaims.

“Yeah! Shouldn’t be long now!�� He calls ahead. “How are your feet doing?” He asks you.

“Not too bad, I’m glad I changed my socks when we took our last break. I’m sure I’ll feel it tomorrow.”

“After we get to the top and everything we’ll make sure to stretch. Your legs will tighten up too much if we don’t.”

“Makes sense. Has Brandon gone hiking with you before?”

“Oh, sure, tons of times. Never overnight, though, so this will be nice for them.”

A few more paces, and a few sharp turns, and you’ve made it to the summit.

“Holy shit.” You say to yourself. Mountains and greenery as far as your eyes could see. No lake this time, but you didn’t care.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Harry says to you.

“It’s…incredible.” You were still in shock.

“Congrats, it’s your first 4,000 footer.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze before getting his pack off. You all get your packs off.

Dozens of pictures are taken. You take some of the boys with Harry, and Andy uses your phone to take one of you and Harry, and he even wants one of just you and him, it was sweet.

“So…where’s the campsite?”

“Oh, just down that way a bit. Figured we could hang out here while we stretch and stuff. Just chill and take it all in before we go to set up the tents.”

You all sit on the ground and stretch your legs. It felt good to just take some time to breathe slowly and let your legs relax. You all walk to where the campsite is and claim your territory.

“So over there are the bathrooms, and then that hut over there actually has a snack bar in it and a few forest rangers.”

“That’s so cool! Do you need help with the tents?”

“Have you ever set one up before?”

“Never.”

“Then you can watch. It’ll be easier if Andy and I just do it.”

You nod and take a step back with Brandon as Andy and Harry work to get the two tents situated. Andy and Brandon get their sleeping bags set up the way they like inside their tent and then they head off towards the bathroom.

“Alright.” You say after tossing some of your things inside yours and Harry’s tent. “I’m gonna go change.”

“Okay, I’m gonna get the firewood together. Gotta get cooking soon.”

“What are we having?”

“Regular hot dogs for the boys, vegan ones for us, that work?”

“You had a cooler in there?”

“And a cast iron pan. Ain’t my first rodeo, darling.” He says cheekily, but you blush anyways from him calling you darling. He had never called you that before.

You grab the things you need for the bathroom, and you’ve never been so thankful to see a clean, working toilet in your life. There were some other people around setting up their own campsites as well, it wasn’t just your group. You use a washcloth to freshen up and then put on some new leggings and a long sleeve shirt. You take your hair out of its hat and put some dry shampoo in before putting it all up in a messy bun. You sigh happily now that you feel a little cleaner.

The boys, and Harry, had changed into some comfier clothes as well. You notice that Harry is wearing his glasses once again. They were all sitting on different blankets around the fire Harry had just gotten started.

“How many would you like?” He asks you as he takes out the different types of hotdogs.

“Two would be great, thank you.” You say, sitting down near Andy.

“I also have some other veggies, I cut up some bell peppers.” Harry takes the baggy out of the cooler. “I figured beans wouldn’t be such a great idea.”

“Dad, can I have two hotdogs?”

“Same here.” Brandon chimes in.

“Of course, boys.”

Harry makes up the vegan hotdogs first, and then makes the boys. They all munch on the veggies and other snacks that Harry packed. He even made sure to bring Oreo’s, Andy’s favorite. Once the sun sets, and everyone bundles up a bit more, Harry breaks out the items to make s’mores.

“Brandon, do you think your dad will coach basketball again in the winter?” Harry asks him.

“Yeah, he said he should have the time. I like him better as a coach than the guy I had a couple of years ago that’s for sure.”

“I like the way your dad coaches, he’s not mean.” Andy says. “I had one guy one year that just yelled and drilled the whole time, it wasn’t any fun.”

“You’re just kids, why would anyone yell at you?” You ask, biting into your own s’more.

“Some of these people are just looking for excuse to be aggressive.” Harry sighs. “This was a much better year all around for everyone I’d say.”

A light hearted ghost story or two is told before the boys both call it a night, their long night before finally catching up with them. Harry makes sure all their trash is thrown away and secure, and he reminds them of the buddy system for if they need to wee in the middle of the night. He also gives them a flashlight so they’ll be able to see everything.

“I think they had the right idea.” You yawn after coming back again from the bathroom. “I’m pooped.”

“Same here. Go get settled, I’m gonna put the fire out.”

You nod and go into the larger tent Harry set up for the two of you. You roll out your sleeping bag, and use one of your spare sweatshirts as a pillow. You get settled in and sigh. It was sort of nice to be unplugged, away from screens and research. Harry eventually crawls in, and gets settled into his own sleeping bag. He sets a dim lantern on his side so he could read a bit.

“What are you reading?”

“The screenplay that was adapted to make The Notebook…” He mumbles.

“You’re working?”

“Sort of…I usually bring books like these camping. They’re easier to read.”

“Should I be offended that you were about ready to read instead of staying up to chat?” You smirk.

Harry’s eyes grow slightly. You wanted to have pillow talk before bed? Is that it?

“Um…well…I just figured you were tired, and I usually read to fall asleep-“

“Harry, relax, I was just teasing. You can read if you want.” You smile at him and turn over, nestling into your sleeping bag. “Night.” You say, looking over your shoulder at him quickly.

“Night.”

Part of you wanted to whine or complain that your makeshift pillow wasn’t comfortable so he’d offer to let you lay on his chest. Maybe he’d caress you and even read to you for a bit. Maybe you would have done that if his son wasn’t in the tent right next to you.

Harry couldn’t concentrate on his book. His eyes kept glancing over to your curled up body. You looked so soft and peaceful, and he just wanted to wrap his arms around you. He wanted to keep you safe and warm all night. And because Harry usually sleeps holding onto a pillow of some kind, he felt a little fucked. He sighs and turns the lantern off. He lays on his back for a while until his eyes eventually flutter closed. You both were exhausted from the hike.

You wake up feeling warm and cozy. You weren’t sure why you had woken up. It’s not like the sun was shining yet, the whole point was to get up and watch the sun rise. No, you woke up from feeling small puffs of air by your ear and a strong hold around your stomach. Harry must have rolled over in his sleep and started cuddling with you. You almost wish you were in a shared sleeping bag so you could get even cozier. It would be like one giant sleeping bag burrito. You feel his arm pull you closer into him, and his breathing changes.

You shift and turn on your back so you can look up at him, and he keeps his arm around your waist. You gaze at each other, and he moves his hand up to smooth some hair away from your face before letting it caress your cheek. You both look like you’re about to say something when-

“Dad, come on! The sun’s gonna be up soon!”

Andy startles Harry so badly, it’s like he wakes up all over again, like he didn’t realize what he was doing with you. He nearly jumps away from you and sits up.

“Okay, one second! Go get washed up.” He sighs, and then looks at you. “I-“

“Let’s get to it before they find a way to get in here and drag us out.”

“Yeah.”

Harry unzips the tent and you both use the bathroom before heading out with the boys to the summit again.

“Alright everyone.” Harry says, and he starts doing some simple yoga moves. The boys follow and so do you.

It was amazing to actually do sun salutations as the sun came up. After sitting and looking out a while longer you all head back to the campsite breakfast. You drink water instead of coffee in fear of really needing to use the bathroom later. You each have a granola bar, and then start to clean up the tents. You get changed in your attire for the day, as done everyone else, and you all start working your way down the mountain.

“What did you think of the sunrise, boys?” You ask.

“It was so cool! I can’t wait to show my parents the pictures I took.” Brandon says.

“Must be nice to have a phone that actually takes decent pictures.”

“I took plenty of pictures on mine, Andy.” Harry says. “You got two more years, I think you can wait.” He chuckles as Andy looks back to give him a pouty face.

“How’d you sleep, Y/N?” Brandon asks.

“Oh! Um…” You and Harry look at each other briefly and then blush. “Pretty good, slept the whole night through, I think. How about you two.”

“My mom gave me some melatonin, so I slept good.” Brandon shrugs.

“And I’m used to camping, so I was fine.” Andy says.

“Good, that’s really good.” You say and clear your throat.

You both knew you’d have to have a conversation about the way you woke up, but now obviously wasn’t going to be the time. Finally, after hours, you make it all the way back to the trailhead, and get everything into Harry’s car. It was an incredible couple of days, but you couldn’t wait to get home to take a proper shower. Hell, you may even take a bath just to relax your sore muscles. Harry drops Brandon off, and Andy helps him with his things. They hug goodbye; it’s awfully sweet.

“Dad, can I shower first? I feel gross…”

“Sure, just don’t take too long.”

“Okay! Thanks again for coming Y/N.”

“Thank you again for inviting me.” You smile as you all get out of Harry’s car. He waits for Andy to go inside before speaking up.

“I’m sorry about this morning, I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable…when I sleep I usually have a pillow or something and-“

“I wasn’t uncomfortable.” You say as you grab your things out of his trunk and put them into your own. “In fact, I can’t remember the last time I felt so comfortable.” You look at him and close your trunk.

“Oh.” His eyebrows raise and his cheeks grow slightly red. “Um.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I have him for the rest of this week until I send him off with Paige for July, so I wanna spend as much time with him as I can, but-“

“Call me when you’re free. I don’t mind waiting.”

Harry was chilled to his bones from your words. He watched you get into your car and drive off before going into his house. You said what you said because you had a feeling Harry had been waiting for you to get your act together a bit. You’ve known him for almost a year, and he’s been a great friend, but there’s something that’s been brewing between the two of you. Probably since the day you met.

“Is that everything?” Paige chuckles as Andy brings another bag into her house.

“I wanted to make sure I had options.” He grunts as he gets inside.

“He’s just like you, I swear.” She shakes her head at Harry.

“As if we needed more proof that he’s mine.”

“So…I heard the camping trip went well, what’s next for you and Y/N?”

“Not sure, I’m gonna give her a ring the second I’m on the road.”

“Did anything happen between you two in that tent?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“No.” He mumbles and kicks some dirt at his feet. “Not much I could do with two eleven-year-olds right next door.”

“Harry.” She laughs.

“We woke up…very close together, that was about it. Bottom line is we need to talk, and now I’ll have the time to do so.”

“You know you’re going to need to fill Andy in on everything when you have your chats on the phone.”

“Please, it’ll be the first thing he asks me instead of how are you…”

“Okay, that’s everything.” Andy says. “Love you.” He hugs Harry and Harry sighs as he wraps his arms around him.

“Love you too, call if you need anything, and be good, promise?”

“Promise.”

Harry waves as he gets into his car, and he calls you right away just like he said he would. The phone goes straight to voicemail, which makes him feel like he got kicked in the gut, especially because it rang twice first. Suddenly, a couple of texts come up on his screen.

You: hey!

You: sorry, I’m at the library getting some work done. I’ll call you later

Harry sighs, but he completely understands. Not too long ago it was him using every free moment he had to get his doctoral research done. He had his own work he should be doing, so he goes home and gets settled up in his office.

He was getting some incredible work done on his latest manuscript, the journal that publishes his works will definitely be pleased. He blinks and sees it’s already 8PM, and you never called, or texted. He hoped you were alright. He stands up and stretches, and decides to grab a quick shower. The house was quiet without Andy, and he didn’t like it. He flops down onto the couch in just a pair of boxers and turns the TV on. A ring on the doorbell startles him, and he gets up right away. He peers through the window to see you, holding a box of pizza and a bottle of wine. He cracks the door open so you could only see his face.

“Hey! Sorry for just dropping by. I got really busy earlier, and I thought this would be better than calling. Hungry?” You smile brightly at him.

“Yeah, that sounds great. I was actually feeling pretty-“

“Um, Har…”

He had opened the door more just out of instinct, revealing his mostly naked body.

“Shit, let me, uh, come in, I’ll go throw something on.” You giggle as he basically scurries to his bedroom to change. He comes back out in a t-shirt and joggers. “Thanks for bringing all this.”

“I planned to come by earlier, I know you dropped Andy off today…how are you doing?”

“I’m okay…work distracted me, but it’s hitting me now. It’s really quiet without him already…I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” You pop the box of pizza open. “Wanna get this bottle open?”

“Yeah.”

He grabs his wine opener, two glasses, and two plates. He gets the bottle open while you set the pizza out. He pours you both a glass and you sit down at the table.

“So, you got a lot done today?” He asks you.

“You have no idea! I was on fire.” Harry laughs at that.

He listens to you talk about what you got done. He couldn’t help but watch every movement your lips made, and how your eyes got brighter and brighter at how excited you were.

“Sorry, I’m going on and on about my thing, what did you get done today?” You say, sipping your wine.

“Worked on my manuscript for the journal.” He shrugs. “Nothing special.”

“Oh, don’t say that, you do incredible work. I love reading your articles. I actually think I used to read your work when I was still in grad school.” You start blushing. “It’s sort of cool knowing the person you’ve been able to learn so much from.”

“Just sort of cool, huh?” He scoffs playfully and you nudge him. “Wanna move outside, I put up a screen around the perimeter for bugs, or are you still hungry?”

“No, I’ve had plenty, but I’ll be bringing this bottle with us.” You grab the wine and you both head outside. “When did you even have time to do this?”

“Andy helped me. It wasn’t too difficult.”

You imagine Harry doing handy work, and it makes every part of your body flutter.

“I wish I had outdoor space like this, it’s my one complaint of my apartment, no balcony or anything.”

“Yeah, we didn’t like it much either, we didn’t stay there long.”

“We?”

“It’s where Paige and I lived when we first came here. I got my master’s from the university first, then my doctorate. Her grandparents lived in that big house, so they helped babysit Andy a lot.”

“Oh.” You didn’t have any problems with Paige, but she didn’t love being reminded that they were once together and in love.

“Were you sore after the hike or anything?” Quick to change the subject, maybe he felt the same way.

“Um, only for a day or so. I didn’t stretch as much as I should have when I got home. Thought the bath I took would have been good enough.”

“Would you ever do it again?”

“I would! I had more fun than I thought…but I’ll only go to the mountains that have working bathrooms.”

“Deal.” He smiles and takes a sip of his wine. “Maybe we could do something like that later this month.”

“With or without Andy?” You raise a playful eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind an adults only trip.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He finishes off his glass and pours another. “Refill?”

“Please.” You hold your glass out for him and he pours some more. You take a sip and lick your lips. “And why exactly would you like it to be adults only?”

“Perhaps…I wouldn’t have minded not being interrupted that morning.”

“Andy really startled you, huh?”

“I almost forgot he was there…” He plucks at his bottom lip. “It was…an interesting how we woke up.”

“Very interesting.” You sip your drink. “I was sort of…hoping you were going to cuddle me or something.”

“You were?!” His eyes widen.

“Yeah, it was sort of cold, even in sweats and a sleeping bag. I felt so cozy when I woke up.”

“You didn’t even flinch when you looked up at me…”

“Why would I have?”

“I don’t know…sort of weird to wake up in a friend’s arms, isn’t it?”

“Not so weird when that friend is you.” You look at him. “You back peddled when you tried to explain why. It’s okay if you wanted to hold onto me.”

“I literally sleep with a body pillow, you can check my room.” He defends. “I’ve always been like that.” He mumbles.

“So it wasn’t about me?”

“No…I…I wanted to cuddle you.” He wanted to do more, but again…his son was there.

“Well…I’m glad you did. It’s nice being the little spoon once in a while, and your cologne always smells so good, no complaints here.”

“You…you like my cologne?”

“Love it, actually.” You finish off your glass and you grab the bottle to pour just a little more in. “It’s nice when the person you have to see every day at work smells good.”

“Let’s see….” He holds his hand up to count on his fingers. “You like my work, you’re happy I cuddled you, and you enjoy my cologne.” He looks at you. “What should I be thinking of all this?”

“I…” You swirl your drink around. “Do you remember when I had that really awkward dream about you a while back?”

“Yes.”

“That was a complete accident, a freaky thing that happened that I didn’t want to have happen.”

“Is this one of those compliment sandwiches?”

“No, I’m…please…” You look at him. “The last time I went to Boston, as you know, I hooked up with someone.”

“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes.

“But…I was having trouble getting there…and…well…” You look away from him. “You popped in and I was happy about it. I…thought of you…and…”

“And were you able to get there, Y/N?”

“Yes.” You say just above a whisper. “I wanted it to be you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date colleagues?”

“I don’t, but…” You look at him again. “I think I like you too much to care about that anymore.”

“God, I…” He gets up and kneels in front of you, taking one of your hands. “I like you so much, you have no idea.”

“Well, I have a small idea…woke up with you pressed against me.” You smirk.

“No way you felt anything between two sleeping bags and all the layers of clothes.”

“Little bit.”

“Christ.” He groans.

“Again, not complaining, it’s flattering, actually.”

“So when you let that guy leave that mark on the back of your shoulder, were you hoping it was me who did that too?” He stands up now.

“You saw that?” You gasp as you look up at him.

“I did…when you were running around your place getting everything together.” He pulls you to stand up, and he tucks some of your hair behind your ear. “You were wearing a pretty flimsy tank top.”

“I don’t exactly get dolled up when I’m home all day working.”

“I guess we have that in common.” He pushes his glasses to the top of his head, and cups your jaw with one hand, and hooks his other arm around your waist to pull you closer.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

Your eyes flutter closed as he leans in, and you tug at his shirt as his lips meet yours. It’s soft at first, he’s just getting a feel for you, and then it turns needy. His hand slides to the back of your head, tugging softly at your hair to crane your head up more. You gasp at this, and he takes the openness as an invitation to nip at your bottom lip. You moan softly, and your tongue peeks out to meet his. They mold together like they were supposed to all along. Suddenly, he takes a step back.

“Wh…what’s wrong?” You wipe the small trail of spit from your mouth that he left behind.

“Nothing, I just…I told myself I wouldn’t do this while we were drinking. There have been a lot of times I’ve wanted to kiss you, but I haven’t because we were drunk or something.”

“I’m not drunk, are you?”

“I’m a little tipsy, yeah.”

“I, okay, yeah, so am I.” You chuckle

“So, I think we should stop for now. I wanna do this right. I wanna take you on a proper date.”

“I’d like that.” You smile, and then chew on your bottom lip. “It’s the right thing to do anyways, we shouldn’t jump into this too quickly. I have some different trips planned this summer, and I’m going to be busy working on things, getting my classes together…not exactly a whirlwind summer romance we’re looking at.”

“I have a conference in New York later this summer, so I’ll be busy as well getting my lecture ready.”

“Wait…I have a conference to go to in New York later this month too!”

“Really? Is it the CMT?”

“Yeah! I went last summer too and had such a good time. I had no idea you were giving a lecture, the itinerary doesn’t come out until next week.”

“I’m presenting some research about my wellness course…I’ve been collecting some data over the last three years I’ve been teaching it.”

“Ah, so you’re not going to be discussing the complexities of Pride and Prejudice?” You smirk at him.

“Nope, saving that for a rainy day.” He smirks back.

“Wow, well…that’s sort of exciting…we’ll be going to the same place for a few days.”

“We could, um, drive together if you wanted.”

“I was just going to take the bus…”

“I get free parking at the hotel since I’m part of the conference.”

“It’s a four hour drive…that’s a long time for you to be stuck with me.”

“Was stuck with you overnight not too long ago, and I didn’t mind it one bit.” He puts his hand on your shoulders. “Are you staying at the hotel where the conference will be?”

“Yes.”

“Great.” He smiles. “It’s, um, it’s a date then.”

“Yeah.” You smile at him. “Although…might be nice to go out before then…make sure we still like each other, and all that.” You joke.

“Yeah, I could easily not be into you in just a couple of weeks.” He jokes back and you can’t help but laugh.

“Let’s go inside, I need some water before I go home.”

“Good idea.”

He leads you in, and after a two glasses of water, and giving you a mock-sobriety test, he lets go. Well, not before giving you another steamy kiss by your car after you promised to text him when you got home. It was just as needy as the first kiss. He didn’t press his body up against yours, but from the way he was sucking on your bottom lip, you could tell he wanted you desperately. But like the responsible adults you were, you ended it there, and called it a night. A very good night.

#office neighbors #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angsy #professor!harry x professor!y/n #professor!harry #dad!harry #singledad!harry

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

In With The New, Out With The Old

Hotch packing Jack up for college

None of it feels real.

For two years after he and Haley divorced he lived in an apartment of boxes. It was some sort of punishment he created for himself while also creating a dissonance he could be lost in -- that he didn’t need to unpack just in case. He had his suits in the closet, his work would not take the fall for his personal life’s failings. The coffee maker sat on the counter, one of the only appliances hooked into a light socket. The necessities followed -- two mugs for coffee, a glass tumbler for the whiskey sitting on the counter, and one plate for when he ordered take-out he couldn’t just eat out of the box.

It had taken him months to buy a mattress, he was perfectly miserable sleeping on the couch. He had only taken Jack to the apartment once, needing to switch into more park-appropriate clothing. Between them, he and Haley agreed that the best thing for Jack was consistency so he would spend all day with Hotch but he would always go home to Haley. He knew this could be used against him in court, Haley could take Jack from his so easily it terrified him but he also knew he’d let her. He was more powerful, he had more strings to pull and more people on his side but the thought of getting on the stand and having his friends call her a bad mother made him feel even worse. So he knew that if it came down to it, he would let Haley have Jack rather put either of them that sort of grueling case.

This was a shared thought between them. Both are aware of the other’s power over the other. Neither will act on their own.

He had only bought a mattress because of New York. Limping home he’d sunk down into his old faithful couch only to wake up the next morning with achingly stiff sutures in his leg and his face stuck to a throw pillow, the blood drying like glue. He had to call Emily and Derek that afternoon. Unable to drive himself with his concussion and consequential blurred vision Emily had come over to pick him up, never said a word about what he’d been sleeping on in the months before. Neither did Derek when Hotch got too dizzy coming up the stairs, the stitches in his leg bleeding through his jeans and so pale Emily had to hold him upright to get him to the bench in the lobby. He was left there, listening to Derek and Emily bicker their way into forcing the mattress into the apartment through the pounding sound of blood rushing in his ears.

That was years ago and yet they’ve created its mirror image once again in his living room.

All of Jack’s belongings in boxes spread out in every room of the house. Packing up to leave.

“Art?” Emily mumbles disapprovingly. She’s knelt down in front of Jack’s bookshelf, dismantling the organized shelves to pack them into boxes. It’s a different method than the one that Hotch uses. Jack has them categorized by author and general theme and as Emily takes down all the books she’s gotten him about cults and psychology and crime she can’t help but feel a little cheated. Jack knows all about crime. He’s had Macdonald’s Triad memorized since he was five -- could give that method of thought its critical analysis as not a precursor to antisocial or serial killer behavior but more as a demonstration of a child’s poor coping skills or as the indicator of a dysfunctional home environment. He’s a well of information about cults, knows the “B.I.T.E.” system.

And he’s throwing all that away because Hotch took him to too many museums as a child?

Jack doesn’t say anything when he hears her grumble about art again, he’s had this conversation so many times. He knows she’s not really mad and she’s not even that irked but she needs to do something with the feelings she has about him leaving and this is just the best way she’s come up with. Better than crying -- which she’s also done far too much of.

“I think art is a great idea, kid.” Derek teases his hair as he passes, sweaty and hot from dragging Jack’s belongings around the place.

Hotch works slowly where he’s been assigned. They all work around him. He’s more freelance than the others. His job is to do what he can and leave the rest for someone else. Today his physical capabilities are not in the way. Derek does all the heavy lifting that Hotch knows is supposed to be assigned to him, it’s his duty as the father of the freshman moving away. He finds himself in the living room, one of Haley’s old photo albums on his lap. Thumbing pictures he can remember going with Haley to print. Pictures he can remember being in. Ones that he took.

He’s crying again.

Emily comes out with a box of books on her hip, having figured out the perfect ratio of books to box to prevent them from falling out the bottom. She sees Hotch wiping his face with a tissue, hiding away but unable to fully pull away right now. The hurt raw. The fear is too much.

The second that Hotch got the chance he left home and never came back. Over the years he returned to his hometown only when he had to -- when Haley’s parents couldn’t be convinced to come to see them. It didn’t matter how down bad he was, Hotch did it on his own. When his mother died when he was thirty he’d talked to her only once since moving out. Then it had only been for the benefit of Sean, who he had driven all the back to Virginia to collect and drove to college.

He fears Jack will do the same and it terrifies him in so many ways.

His own death will come quickly, he knows he’s only made it this long because he’s not alone. Without Jack, there’s no reason to keep going on, not with the way his body aches from years of abuse and neglect. More than that, he knows what growing up that fast did to him. As a child, the things that happen to you are out of your control. Children are sponges, not yet able to take control and mold themselves. So their reactions to abuse and neglect and even just trivial everyday things are but a reaction they are taught to form or never corrected on. But Hotch never corrected his behaviors as a young adult. He couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone, not at twenty, or thirty, and still at forty.

He spent his twentieth birthday on the side of the highway in a broken down car freezing his ass off with negative twenty-three cents in his bank account. No one to call because he couldn’t bring himself to believe anyone would come -- but Haley would have, or Jessica, or the sociology professor who gave him his number for emergencies or “just anything you can think of, just in case you need me”.

He doesn’t wish anything like that on Jack.

The cycle of self-destruction and fear and loathing.

But Jack knows how to form healthy relationships with people. He’s more worried about Hotch.

The car ride is nearly silent.

Jack cranks his window down and lays his head on the seal, lets the wind blow his hair back from his skin, and closes his eyes. There’s no air conditioning but it’s not that bad. The air has cooled off, the thunderstorms taking over the area sucking the humidity from the air as the wind picks up. It’ll get bad again in a day or so but today is nice and Jack wants to enjoy it. To sit contently with his dad and just try to soak it in before he’s thrown into the world of college.

Emily had promised him several times she’d make sure that Hotch didn’t turn himself into a hermit. Jack has grown up watching those two spar off so he knows she’s perfectly capable of getting Hotch out of the house. More than that, Jack knows he’s just going to miss his dad.

“Please--” Jack’s in the middle of trying to reorganize his stuff when he sees Hotch come in with one of the big boxes, one of the heavy ones. “Dad!” Jack takes it from him, not listening to Hotch’s complaint about being able to carry a few boxes. That he won’t break that easily. “Please, just leave the heavy stuff to Emily and Derek. Help me put my clothes away? Please?”

He nearly cries again folding Jack’s t-shirts away. Once upon a time, Jack’s shirts were about the size of his hand. Tiny delicate little things about the size of rags. Now he’s wearing the same size as Hotch, a grown man standing there racing to beat Emily to the heavy stuff because he doesn’t want her lifting it all either.

“Well,” Derek announces, setting the minifridge down, “that’s the last of it.”

Emily offers Hotch her hand and he takes it, grunting as he moves his body back upright.

“Well,” he declares, looking around the room. “We’ll leave you to it. Let you get everything sorted out how you like.” Hotch smiles and Emily and Derek step in to take their hugs, imparting half-wise ideas and a no-questions-asked ride home from anywhere.

“I love you,” Hotch says, he’s quick because he knows he can’t keep his composure if he stays here for too much longer. “I’ll send you care packages, you’ll just have to text me if you think of something I don’t send.”

Jack nods, pretending to make himself busy putting away the rest of his clothes. Trying to downplay his own feelings.

“Ok.”

Hotch nods and they leave, he doesn’t want to make a scene. They’ve hugged and Jack needs to unpack. He’s done. He’s only two doors away when he hears Jack’s door gets thrown open.

“Dad!” Hotch turns and stumbles, an armful of the little boy who was once the size of his forearm. He squeezes Jack tight, laughing through his tears when Jack holds on. “I love you too.”

Hotch holds him for a solid minute, just balanced there with his hand on the back of Jack’s head. “Alright,” he whispers. He sniffles a little, smiling as he cups Jack’s cheek wiping away a tear with his thumb. “I’m just a phone call away, okay? Any time of the night, you know where I am. You’ll be fine. You’re going to make mistakes and you’re going to fail tests and cry over boys and drink too much but you’ll be okay. And-- And if you’re not…”

Jack nods, smiling as he says, “I’ll call Emily.”

Hotch smirks, “well.. After a certain hour, yeah I suppose you’ll have to but yeah. Just call, okay?”

“I’ll call.”

Hotch nods and he has to force himself to let go and walk away. To let Jack do this.

They’re halfway down the hall, far enough away now that Jack won’t see or hear when Hotch starts to cry. He forces himself to keep going. Not to look back. Emily takes his hand, squeezes his fingers and he looks over at her tears in his eyes, and tries to smile.

Emily drives his truck home, she plans on feeding him chocolate and ice cream, and wine this afternoon to improve his mood. He gets a text and he smirks, he actually laughs.

“Let me know when you get home, old man. Tell Emily not to keep you out too late.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #jack hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfiction

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ifmywishescametrue · 3 years

Note

hnnng, could you please do either “you’re sick and you need to rest” or “you could’ve died” for stevetony? Worrying about an SO is a soft spot for me🥺

thank you for sending me this prompt! hope you like it :) (warning for mentions of torture, btw, but nothing graphic)

In that cave in Afghanistan, Tony keeps seeing flashes of things. Moments from life before all of this come to him in between the shocks of electricity when his head is forced underwater, while he’s sputtering and gasping for breath and can’t understand the words being screamed at him.

He sees Steve more than anything. Sees blue eyes and a bright smile and if he tries hard enough he can almost hear the laugh that comes with it. Sometimes it’s that first day again, with roaming hands and a rush to get off in the bathroom of some party he didn’t want to be at, followed by an easy grin and the promise to do that again sometime. He sees Steve on his couch surrounded by take out containers and the reassurance that absolutely none of it counted as a date. Morning pancakes that supposedly meant nothing, and Steve sneaking under the desk in his office. Pencil scratches on sketch pads that used to wake him up, cold feet pressed against his calves, his favorite muffins from that bakery downtown that used to just appear out of nowhere when he was having a bad day, and the way that Steve would never admit that it was him doing it.

It’s that last night he remembers the most. He can almost hear the words whispered in the dead of night and remembers the ones he held back, because Tony has never known how to be completely honest. He didn’t know how to say that this casual friends with benefits things was starting to feel less like friends and more like love, but when he lays down with his aching chest and bleeding fingers on the poor excuse for a cot at night, he wishes more than anything that he could have found the words before.

So he builds the suit and practices the right thing to say for when he makes it out. If he makes it out. If this ridiculous plan of his doesn’t result in him dying somewhere in the middle of the desert, just another body added to the pile of deaths he’s caused.

He almost doesn’t believe it when he lives. His knees hit the scorching sand, and Rhodey’s arms are right there, and still all he can think about is whether or not Steve mourned at all when they all thought he was dead.

In the plane, after the hospital at the army base and all the IV lines to fix the three months of dehydration and malnutrition, he works up the nerve to ask about it.

“Steve,” he starts, voice hoarse enough that he pauses to clear his throat, unwilling to sound so affected. “Is he - did he -” He stops, settling for asking, “Have you talked to him?”

Rhodey leans forward on his elbows, closing some of the distance that the aisle between them created. He pulls out his phone and taps for a moment before turning the screen to face Tony. Steve’s name is at the top, and Rhodey scrolls through the string of messages with enough speed that Tony can’t actually read any of them, but he gets the point anyway.

“This is just the last couple of weeks,” Rhodey says. “Never stopped asking for updates, especially when we found you. Called so much I told him I was going to put a virus on his phone to redirect him to random strangers if he kept it up. He didn’t listen.”

Tony swallows around the lump in his throat and looks away towards the window.

“We weren’t supposed to be anything,” Tony murmurs, watching the way the sky is fading from orange into blue, clouds obscuring the ocean below them. It’s still a few more hours until California, where he hopes that Steve is still waiting for him. “We said it was nothing.”

Rhodey hums, both noncommittal and suggestive at the same time, and Tony turns his head back to look at him. “What?”

Rhodey shrugs, “I didn’t say anything.”

“But you want to.”

“I don’t spill secrets that aren’t mine to tell.”

Tony’s brow furrows. “What does that even mean?”

“It means he’ll be there when we land, and if you try to pretend that it’s still nothing, I’m putting your ass back on the plane until you find your common sense somewhere.”

Tony bites his lip and shakes his head, staring down at his hands, “I wasn’t going to pretend. I just - I didn’t know if he cared anymore. It’s been a few months, and we weren’t… There was never a promise for commitment. He could’ve found somebody else. Anyone else.”

Rhodey gives him a look, that fondly exasperated one he does so well. “Nice to know you’re still a dumbass.”

It startles a laugh from and makes his abused lungs twinge, but it feels good to laugh again. “Takes more than a few months to knock the dumbass out of me.”

The topic falls away after that, because Tony can’t say what he feels, and Rhodey knows anyway. He switches the conversation over to the start of the baseball season that Tony missed, complaining about the Phillies like Tony’s heard every year since he was fifteen. It’s easy and passes the time until Tony ends up falling asleep for the rest of the flight.

His muscles are stiff and uncomfortable when he wakes with a start a couple of hours later, heart racing and on edge when he doesn’t immediately recognize his surroundings. Rhodey puts a hand on his knee, and Tony jumps initially before calming. It makes Rhodey’s eyes turn sad for a moment, then it’s hidden away again.

“Come on,” Rhodey says softly, gripping Tony by the elbow of his good arm to help him up. “We’re here.”

There’s still a slight limp in his step when he walks off the plane from bruises and scars that are still healing. He sees Pepper first, with her red hair shining in the sun, but his gaze gets stuck on the person next to her.

Steve straightens from where he’s leaning against the black car, and Tony wishes he was in better condition so he could run to him. It would have been romantic, he thinks, like something out of one of those movies he’d never even seen before Steve came into his life. There would have been some grand, sweep-him-off-his-feet moment with declarations and pretty words and violins coming from somewhere.

Instead Steve meets him halfway, with a quivering chin like he might start to cry. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is too long, and his five o’clock shadow is almost an actual beard now.

He’s the best thing Tony’s ever seen.

“Hey,” Tony says, because he can’t remember a single one of those things he planned before.

Steve smiles, and it’s only a little shaky, “Hey yourself.”

Rhodey and Pepper disappear with the shutting of the car door, leaving the two of them standing there in the middle of the empty runway. Steve takes the first step, but Tony takes the second, and then Steve’s chest is beneath his cheek, and his arms are around his shoulders.

Tony holds on to him like a lifeline, fingers clutched in his t-shirt, and he can feel the warmth of him seeping into his skin. Steve’s hands are all over, as if checking to make sure he’s all actually there and in one piece.

Steve steps back a little, a small frown on his face. He reaches his hand up to Tony’s chest, and Tony tenses at the first light press against the reactor case.

“What…” Steve trails off, eyes flickering between Tony’s chest and his face, and Tony undoes two of the buttons on his shirt to show him.

The scars around it are marred and red, with raised edges that serve to make it look even worse than it is. Steve makes a sound like a choked back sob, and Tony grabs his wrist to put his hand on the reactor. It’s a little terrifying to let him touch it, but if there’s anyone he knows would never hurt him, it’s Steve.

“It’s okay,” Tony murmurs. “It keeps me alive.”

“You could’ve died,” Steve whispers, fingers spreading out over the light of the reactor. “I thought you - I didn’t want to think it, but it was hard not to. Rhodey kept saying that you wouldn’t let yourself go out like that. You’d be all or nothing, and it wasn’t big enough. And Pepper, well, she basically said exactly what did happen. That you’d find a way out. I tried to believe it, too, but I just kept thinking that you could be gone, and we’d never - I’d never get the chance to make this real.”

Tony looks up at him, breath catching in his throat. “I thought about you every day, you know. I almost told you how I felt about you on that last night. Came so close to saying it, but I just -”

“I know,” Steve says, and with his other hand he cups Tony’s cheek. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

“Yeah?”

Steve nods, leaning in closer, and his lips brush against Tony’s when he says, “Yeah, sweetheart, I know.”

#stevetony #prompts #i literally love you for sending me this #asks #my writing #my fic #stony #superhusbands

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straydawg-writing · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

- 𝓚. 𝙯𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙮𝙘𝙠

• hunter x hunter series

⋯✰⋯

Chapter 2–

You knew that if anyone outside of this car saw you right now, you might just pass away. To put it simply: You were sitting on Killua's lap.

All because Kite's truck only fit seven people.

The way this predicament came about would have been comical if it weren't for your burning embarrassment. Unfortunately, you could remember very clearly how it all unfolded:

"Hmm, it seems that there aren't enough seats for all eight of us, so one person will have to squish in," Kite said, opening the car door to check the seats.

"Who's the smallest one here?" Gon asked. All seven pairs of eyes turned to look at you.

Great. The benefits of never having had your growth spurt.

Killua was the one to open his mouth, snickering, "Obviously it's Y/N. She's like a midget!"

"Killua, you are literally an entire 2 ½ feet shorter than Kite over there," you defended yourself.

From a distance, you had guessed Kite was around 6'3. Once you got a closer look at him, you discovered that he towered over you like a skyscraper. Your curiosity got the best of you and naturally, you had asked him what his height was. The man was a whopping 7 foot 10.

"It's okay Y/N, you can squish with me," Gon offered.

Killua shook his head. "No way. Squishing will just make everyone uncomfortable. It's better if only one person suffers. Y/N, you can sit on my lap."

He had left no room for argument. Sighing, you knew that even if you tried, you had no say in this anymore. You would just have to suck it up for the next 4 hours.

Now you were here, sitting on him, worrying about whether you were cutting the circulation off to his legs or not. Or perhaps you were too bony and it was hurting him.

You could feel his warm breath on your neck, and it sent goosebumps across your entire body. This was beyond awkward.

"Stop it," Killua muttered, right in your ear.

Oh, you'd done it now, hadn't you? Killua was gonna push you off onto Gon instead.

"Stop what?"

"You're so stiff, just...relax," he paused, "I don't mind sitting this way."

Hearing his voice so close to you sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Maybe this was okay.

You untensed, trying to adjust yourself to a more comfortable position, but the bumpy car ride wasn't making it very easy. Kite ran over a rock, and without a seatbelt it sent you jerking upwards. Thanks to his fast reflexes, Killua gripped your waist, holding you tightly to his body.

"The seatbelt won't reach over the both of us, but this'll keep you from flying."

"Heh, thanks Killua. I think we should reach the beach in a bit..." you said, hoping that the thought of it being over soon might offer him some relief.

It doesn't matter who it is, being this close to someone could send anyone into a frenzy. You were hyper-aware of every one of his fingers grasping onto your waist. He wasn't lying. He was keeping you right there.

You'd just have to stop thinking about it, you told yourself. Or else you'd go crazy.

Trying to relax back into Killua like he had asked, you let your mind wander to the reason you were driving in the first place. The day before, the three of you had decided to stick with Kite and help him investigate the Chimera ants. The beach you were headed to now is supposed to have a clue about where the ant queen is located, so you could bring an end to the destruction before it starts. During the car ride, you had learned they were a truly deadly species. One bite of an innocent passerby, and they had the means to bring the entire human race to extinction.

You felt like something was starting. And your intuition was rarely wrong.

Gazing at Gon who had been talking with Kite for a while now, you noticed how his eyes crinkle into little smiles whenever he talks. You knew that having Kite around, his father's best friend, surely excited him to the bone. Gon was just oozing with optimism, without even trying. You could tell that just by being himself, he was keeping the spirits up of all eight in the group, not allowing any room for doubt or fear to creep into anyone's minds.

At that moment, you swore that whatever happened, you would be there to protect Gon and Killua. Even if it costs you everything.

Hopefully, this wasn't one of your friends' last few moments of tranquility. But if it was, you were determined to spend it well.

Resting your head against Killua, you hoped that he wouldn't mind if you indulged in this for just a moment. You were tired, having not gotten much rest since completing Greed Island and meeting Kite.

It didn't take much time for you to fall asleep to the rise and fall of Killua's steady breathing and his sweet vanilla scent. If you'd been awake, you might have even heard his heartbeat racing beneath you.

⋯✰⋯

You had finally reached the beach.

Killua had nudged you awake once you'd gotten there. You remembered how his blue eyes stared back at you as he poked your face, calling you an idiot for falling asleep, and you chuckled.

There was one thing you were clueless about; Killua had made sure not to move even once the whole rest of the car ride. He was nervous that he might disturb your peacefully sleeping form.

You were still pretty groggy as you looked out at the sea, the bright sun reflecting on the ocean's surface. You wanted to wiggle your toes in the sand, but you were there for a reason. To find anything that might lead to the Queen.

You searched in bushes, behind rocks, under seashells, and even used your nen to sift through as much sand as you could. So far, the group had ruled out the forest and deemed it difficult to know if the ant even ended up on the same island. That's when they decided to release the hellhound. Well- it wasn't a hellhound. It was the little dog you played with yesterday. Along with Gon.

Gon was following behind the dog on all floors, sniffing the ground as he went.

"He can do that?" You asked no one in particular.

"His nose is as sharp as a dog's," Killua responded, watching Gon with an amused look in his eye.

A couple minutes went by with no luck. The only thing the dog had found was a tree to pee on. It looked like the ant wasn't going to be on this island, though Kite had an idea.

"It may have washed ashore somewhere else. Which direction do the currents flow here?" Kite asked the two that had brought us down to the beach. One was short with brown skin and grey hair that sprouted up like hay, while the other had large glasses and two front teeth poking out from his mouth.

"The direction is reversed between day and night. And it also changes with the seasons. I've even heard it's different on certain days. So it'll be tough to pinpoint a location..." said Chipmunk Teeth. That's what you'd call him, since you hadn't gotten his name.

So basically, no one had any idea on how to find the Chimera Ant Queen.

"Continuing to search blindly is pointless. We should return to YorkNew and see if we can find any new leads there."

You heard the group around you agreeing with Kite. He and his friends began walking back to the truck already, but you stayed put. You would catch up to them later.

The ocean reminded you of your home. You thought you should say goodbye to it first.

Ripples of water lapped gently at your feet. You always had a connection with nature. Having lived in a small village located in the middle of a jungle most of your life, the earth had become your dearest friend. One of your earliest memories was from exploring the coves back at home. You stretched out your arm across the water, and watched the liquid softly rise to your hand as you called it.

That's why you chose this nen ability. It tied you to the elements. When you fought with it, together you were one body.

"Y/N, come on! Kite's threatening to leave without you," Gon waved you over. Taking one last look at the sea, you turned away.

The sun was already setting by the time you left for the city.

⋯✰⋯

Going back to YorkNew was the right decision. Now you all knew where to look.

Kite had discovered that the possibilities of the Chimera Ant landing in NGL were the highest. Apparently, NGL was a country populated with people who wanted to get away from machine civilization and live in nature.

You loved nature too, but you thought that was a little extreme. There was a reason you had to leave your beloved jungle behind.

"There may very well be a giant swarm of Chimera Ants already hunting humans down. If that's the case, my top priority will be saving them. You must be able to protect yourselves," Kite warned us.

"And if I am the one in trouble, you should escape without me."

At that, Gon and Killua looked unsettled. But backing down now was not an option.

"Got it," you said, breaking the silence and offering a kind nod to Kite, "and until the very last moment, the three of us will have your back."

"Yeah!" The other two boys concurred.

Now, you sat with Gon and Killua on an airship to NGL. The three of you were sitting on a bench, looking out of a window that framed velvet-peach clouds displaying brilliant silver linings.

Gon was reflecting on their last conversation with Kite.

"You said that Ging had a reason for bringing me and Kite together," he rested his arms and head on the window-frame.

Killua broke his sight from the clouds and looked at Gon.

"Yeah, I did."

"You're probably right. I don't know the reason, but I can't give up halfway, no matter what's going on. Otherwise, I'll disappoint Ging... And I'd never be able to forgive myself either. So I won't run away," Gon continued, resolved with his decision.

There was a moment of silence as the three of you let his words sink in.

You admired Gon's determination, but you hated that Ging had a son risking his life just to avoid disappointing a dad he's never met.

"Man, you had this totally serious expression, so I was expecting something big. But it's just business as usual," Killua smiled.

"Huh?" Gon's mouth hung open. "I thought about this a lot, I even ran a bunch of mental simulations! And I liked what Y/N said earlier, about having Kite's back until the very end."

"Think all you want, but you'll still be Gon. If someone said to abandon them, you'd never do it," You lightly punched his shoulder.

He pouted, cradling where you hit him, and you rolled your eyes.

"Drama queen."

Gon chose to ignore that and turned back to Killua. "Then what would you do?'"

"I'm a spontaneous guy, so I'd think about it once the time comes."

"So, you'd run away?" Gon questioned.

"Depends. I can't say until it actually happens."

"Say for instance..."

Killua threw his hands up, beat, "I can't tell you what I'd do in a hypothetical situation!"

"Then, what about you Y/N?"

"Gon!" You whined.

Truth be told, you hadn't thought about what you would do. It depended like Killua said. But you did know one thing...

"I would never leave you two behind. Even if that meant I'd have to die."

⋯✰⋯

#hunter x hunter #killua x reader #killua zoldyck x reader #hunterxhunter fanfiction #hxh #self insert #y/n #hxh fanfic #chimera ant arc #kite #angst #fluff

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emmys-main · 4 years

Text

Intro (Part 1 of Love Me Good)

Summary: When you mention that you’ve never been satisfied by a man in bed, your older friend Chris makes you an offer you can’t refuse. Part II: Closer

Pairing: Chris Evans x female reader

Warnings: SMUT. Implied age gap, graphic oral sex (performed on a female). Do not interact if you are not 18+.

Title Inspiration: Intro by the XX

You didn’t know quite how the conversation of sexual satisfaction came up, but you weren’t mad that it was happening. Maybe it was because you were drunk off vodka and pink lemonade. Maybe it was because you were with a group of friends you trusted. Maybe it was because you were just having fun.

You were in a quiet suburb of Boston with a group of friends who were filming a movie there. You had been working for Chris’s mom’s theater for about three yeas after college, which was how you met Chris, and he’d introduced you to his friends, and then you’d taken a job on a TV show that Chris was filming back in Boston. It had been a wild couple of years, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Chris was, without a doubt, one of your best friends. Most of your friends in the area had scattered after college, allowing you to get closer to your employer’s son.

You’d been playing stupid games for most of the night after the Bruins game ended and you didn’t feel like going home quite yet; Chris was your ride, anyway, because he didn’t want you going back yourself so late. Somehow the game had turned to truth or dare, the real version of truth or dare - tell the truth or do whatever the other person says. Of course, in a room full of adults who were full of home-made chips and dip and alcohol, it turned dirty.

“I’m serious, answer it!” Your friend Janie said, nudging you with her elbow. “Come on, you have to! Or I’ll dare you to answer it!”

“Fine!” You sighed. You felt heat on your cheeks, starting to sweat a little more than you had been. “Never. I’ve never had an orgasm with a guy, okay?” Janie and another friend, Will, let their jaws drop before falling into a fit of laughter that you knew would happen. Even Chris, who was sitting there, laughed a little bit as he took another sip of his beer. He was probably the most sober of all of you - he was your ride, after all.

“What about Jay?” Will asked. “You dated him for two years in college.”

“I lied! He tried, and I almost got there, but I never did unless I was on my own,” you said, pulling your cardigan a little closer to you like it would guard your secret that was already out. “There’s your answer, okay? Now take the conversation away from me.” You took a sip from the pink-rimmed steel straw you were drinking out of, the lemonade and vodka mix stinging your lips like it had been all night.

“Chris, your turn! Same question or dare!” Janie turned her attention to Chris, who immediately looked like a deer in the headlights. The look on his face faded and suddenly he was chuckling, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“My record is five in one night. But I don’t remember the last time, so you’re not getting an answer to that.”

“Oh bullshit! There’s no way you don’t remember.” Chris shrugged, putting his hands in his sweatshirt. You secretly loved when Chris dressed like he was that night - in jeans and a sweatshirt and a Bruins hat, not concerned with anyone who might be taking pictures or spreading rumors about what he said. You knew he trusted you the first time he came over to watch a movie and told you some secrets from the set, not even worried about whether you would say something. He looked like any other guy, not Chris Evans. He looked like the guy who was easily your closest and most trusted friend.

“I don’t remember!” He insisted. “But at least I know it happened.” He looked over at you, winking, and you just rolled your eyes. Chris was a flirt. A hardcore flirt. And nothing ever came of it because you figured he just wasn’t into you. Tonight had been different, though, because as soon as the alcohol started flowing he was all touchy-feely and flirty and was just overall different. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice it.

You went a few more rounds of the game, ending up revealing that the craziest place you’d ever done it was in the communal showers sophomore year. Chris’s answer was an awards show green room, a much better answer, but he tried to play it off, saying it was too hot and he was worried about getting anything on his date’s dress, making excuses to play it down so it wouldn’t seem like anyone was missing out on anything.

You helped clean up before you walked across the street and climbed in Chris’s car. He turned the air conditioning vents toward you, making sure you were cool because you were sweating from all of the alcohol. He put on some 80′s music you didn’t quite recognize and started driving back toward your apartment. You grabbed a water bottle from the cupholder in the console, drinking a little bit of it before remembering it had been there since you got out of the car and that the water inside of it was hot.

“You can't be fucking serious about that,” Chris remarked when you were reflecting on the night. “You had to have had at least one. Maybe you didn’t notice it, but you had to!”

“I think I just put too much pressure on myself,” you admitted, “because I almost always get there but I never fully just...” You clenched your fists, looking for a good word, and let your voice trail off when you couldn’t find one in your vocabulary. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not satisfied with it. It’s fine. I’ve just kind of come to know I’m not going to and it’s whatever, you know? As long as I have fun otherwise.”

“Oh, that’s such bullshit. I’ll admit it’s not everything, but come on! It’s kind of the end goal there.” Chris stopped at a red light, looking over at you to make sure you were okay. You could see that his cheeks were returning to their normal color, even in the bright red light from the truck ahead of you’s brake. He was definitely sober. And this wasn’t a conversation you’d ever even think to have if you were sober, too.

“Yeah, but... I don’t know.”

“You’ve never been with a good guy, then,” Chris said after a second. He crossed his arms against his chest as he waited for the truck to go, then gently took his brake off and put his hands back on the wheel and the gear shift where he always rested his right fist.

“Then fucking tell me where they are because obviously I don’t know how to look for them, either.” Chris scoffed. “And, besides, I’m pretty enough to fuck and that’s all. No guy ever wants to stick around to learn how to make me feel good and it’s fucking annoying.”

“That’s just about the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. But maybe you need to look for a friends with benefits thing instead of anything else. At least at first. I hate hooking up with people because you don’t know them, you don’t know what they like or what they want to try or anything. You just know them for two hours and then they fuckin’ leave. But a friends with benefits, at least you know them and you can be idiots with each other.”

“Knowing me I’d probably catch feelings,” you scoffed, rubbing your hair a little when it hit a spot on your ear and started itching.

“Take me, for example,” he said. You sat up, giggling.

“What? You?”

“Exactly! You love me as a friend and nothing else. I wouldn’t even think twice about doin’ something because i know you and I care about you, but I also know that it wouldn’t be weird.”

“You think you and me wouldn’t be weird?”

“At first, maybe, but...” He looked over at you. “You’re hot and we can act like adults, is all I’m saying. That’s what I mean. You don’t want to get with someone you can’t act like an adult with. Literally and metaphorically.”

“Are you offering?” You asked after a second of silence, having been biting your tongue. The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. Damn being drunk, even a little bit. it just made the part of you always afraid to step on someone’s toes go away. Chris shrugged in response and took a turn, and you noticed that you were almost back to your apartment.

“Maybe,” he said. “Depends on if you’re accepting. I just can’t stand the fact that no one’s ever made you cum, it’s fucking ridiculous. And if you’re into it...” His voice faded out when he realized you were looking at him.

“Sure,” you said in response, trying to be nonchalant about it. Inside, your heart was starting to race. Secretly, you’d always wondered what was inside of the gray sweatpants he would wear to set every morning, what was underneath the sweatshirt he would wear when it was cold outside, how his hair would feel running through your fingers... but you’d always been against it, thinking it was just empty flirting. He was so much older than you, he could have any woman he wanted, and he was so damn out of your league. But maybe, if this was one way you could have him, you wanted to.

“Really?” He asked, looking over at you. You were at the stop sign right before your apartment. It was now or never.

“Really,” you responded. His lips teased at a smile in the light of the street lamps and he pressed on the gas pedal, riding the short distance to your apartment before pulling into the driveway. “Do you want to come in?”

“Yeah.” He sniffled and turned off the car, then got out. You waited for him to cross over to you, looking in the darkness to make sure nothing was coming, before walking you up the stairs. You started sweating as you fiddled with your keys, trying to find the right one.

“You wanna just watch a movie or something? You know, we don’t have to get into anything,” he suggested. You found the key with blue duct tape on it, labeled with your apartment number, and nodded as you stuck it in the door.

“Sounds good.” You walked into the apartment and turned on the light, your head taking a minute to adjust to the light. “You know where the bedroom is, pick a movie. I’m going to use the bathroom.” He nodded and looked you up and down, smiling to himself, and the feeling of being checked out by him like a piece of meat sent shivers up and down your spine. The shivers stayed until you were in the bathroom, looking in the mirror, rolling up your cardigan in your hands. You weren’t wearing any makeup, but it didn’t really matter. You just made sure that you didn’t have any toilet paper or anything stuck down there, sighing, knowing you didn’t do that well when you'd shaved that morning. But Chris was your friend - if he wanted you, he wanted you. He wouldn’t care whether you had razor bumps or not.

You sighed, looking at yourself for a minute, and left the room. You walked into the bedroom to see Chris on the bed, shoes already off, hoodie off to reveal a white t-shirt, and his hat was on the nightstand. You sat down on the bed beside him, kicking your shoes off, and he turned on some movie that you knew you weren’t going to be able to watch. You looked at him in the dim lighting of the room before laying your head on his shoulder. He leaned back against the wall and the two of you sat like that for a few minutes, laughing at the TV when you realized he’d put on Forgetting Sarah Marshall, one of your favorites.

“This fucking movie,” you giggled. He laughed, too, but soon you were calm again. He must have been able to feel it because he pressed a kiss to your head. Did he want to start something now? You wondered. You looked up at him to see that he did, and before you could say anything or do anything his lips were on yours.

You’d always suspected he was a good kisser, but you didn’t know how right you were until that moment. He nearly tackled you right off the bat, swinging one of his legs over your torso until you were trapped underneath him. He gave you what felt like a million kisses before coming up for air.

“You like it rough?” He asked you in a low, husky voice. You were so close to him that you could see his pretty eyelashes up close for the first time. His pupils, those gorgeous eyes, were blown up with pure lust and a sick smile came over his face when you started nodding your head. He was the predator now, and you were the prey, and you didn’t even want to try to run away from it.

“I need to hear you, princess, do you like it rough?” He asked.

“Y-yes,” you said. It came out more like a whimper, your voice dry from the soul-sucking kiss he’d given you. As soon as you spoke a soft smile came over his face, replacing the almost grinch-like grin he’d had a moment ago.

“Good girl. We’re not gonna do the main event tonight, but I want to make you happy, is that okay?”

“Okay,” you whined. You could feel heat between your legs, soaking your underwear and your tight jeans. How could he make you like that with just a few words and a kiss? You were met with another searing kiss, Chris’s hand moving up to your throat. He rest his hand right above your collarbone, right where you were the most vulnerable. His fingers pressed into your skin, a hang-nail on his thumb scratching at it. You could barely think because of the way he was shoving your tongue down his throat, giving you no opportunity to breathe between the body on top of you and the warmth in your mouth. His tongue slid past your lips so easily, inviting you to go to war with his, and you took it. His kisses alone were like fire burning you from the inside out.

After what felt like minutes of just being there, kissing him with his hand on your throat, he pulled away. You wondered what he was going to do but he took his hands and put them down to your jeans, un-fastening the button. A limp, slightly greasy curl fell from behind his ear and with no hesitation, you tucked it back there. He gave you another sweet smile. His fingers fiddled with your button for a second before he started to pull the high-waisted jeans down. He chuckled when he saw that you were wearing underwear that matched your t-shirt. It was strange - you were always so afraid of your own body, looking down and seeing how close your stomach was to overlapping your toes, grabbing at your thighs wishing they would just disappear. But with Chris, you’d known him for so long and felt so comfortable with him that you didn’t even care he could see all of the stretch marks and the baby fat that had never left your stomach.

“If I’d known you were this god damn beautiful,” he muttered under his breath as he pulled your jeans over your ankles, discarding them to the floor. You sat up in a moment of bravery, pulling your t-shirt off to reveal your bra. Chris’s eyes had starts in them - you never once recalled feeling that way with anyone. You’d only ever been a bundle of nerves before. Now, that bundle was unraveling swiftly. Chris took the time to pull his own shirt off, allowing you to see every dip and curve in his skin. You couldn’t help but grin. God, he was amazing. Your hands went to his waist, breathless at how the man in front of you was actually real.

“You gonna let me take these off too?” He asked. “You wanna let me eat you out?”

“Yeah,” you responded. You felt a chill run up and down your spine and then to your hips as Chris’s thumbs hooked in your underwear and pulled them down, revealing you to the cold air of your room. Your legs came open without a command to, and when you did Chris’s eyes turned black again. You’d shaved that morning, not even thinking you’d get any that night, just because you liked to keep it shaved. So your pussy was as open as a flower, right in front of him, pink and perfect and glistening with wetness that you couldn’t control. It was freezing, making you want to close your legs, but you didn’t. You laid there, breathless, and watched as Chris laid down on the bed. He laid in between your legs on his stomach, just for a second, looking. You felt the heat on your cheeks, the aching in your bones for even just a little bit of his air against you.

The silence of the room was interrupted by Chris again, this time as he spat on your open pussy. It hit your bundle of nerves and you squirmed, earning hands on your hips once again. You jumped when you felt his cold fingers on them, rubbing your juices together. You’d never thought about how hot that was until then - fuck, you could’ve watched him do that all day.

“That feel good?” He asked in a dark voice.

“So good,” your lust-filled voice groaned back at him. You moved a piece of hair out of his eyes again, and as if to thank you, he moved to kiss your thighs. He said he was going to tease you, and tease he did - he kissed everywhere but the part of you he’d wet. You gasped at the feeling of his teeth on the thin, sensitive skin of your thighs, sucking little bruises into them. You were suddenly grateful that it was November and you weren’t wearing shorts anymore, otherwise the entire world would have been able to see what Chris had done to you.

“Fuck, you’ve got the most perfect pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen,” Chris said. It almost sounded like a dream when he said it. Faraway and unreal. And then he made it real by stopping the teasing and going straight to the source. You threw a hand over your mouth, not wanting to make too much noise but still too surprised to stop it from happening. You let out a small, high-pitched yelp as his tongue hit your clit first. He sucked it right into his mouth first, as if all of the teasing was over, and just as you let out another moan he let it go. You could hear a chuckle and at the same time, more of your wetness fell out of you. He lapped it up with his tongue, licking a stripe up and then back down, and then around. He was slow and careful with his movements, but it felt like the times you’d been eaten out before - like his tongue was everywhere and nowhere at once.

This was different, though. This was Chris. This was your best friend, eating you out in the darkness, trying to prove a point that had blown out of proportion. You had to stop another moan from leaving your lips when he sucked you into him, pressing his nose onto your clit by just an accident.

“No, I wanna hear those pretty sounds,” he cooed. “Tell me when you start getting close, but don’t put any pressure on yourself, alright?” You nodded, your head falling back onto the pillow. “Just sit back and relax, baby girl, I got you.”

You felt a finger probe at your entrance, and then two, and suddenly he was only rubbing his tongue against your clit and his fingers were inside of you. Your own fingers never felt this good, you thought, ever. He thrust them in and out of you and you could hear the lewd noises of everything going on over the movie. You were whimpering and whining and egging Chris on as he continued to eat you out. Your body was getting hotter and hotter and you were on the brink, but... what if you couldn’t? What if this was just like every other time when you got so close but never could? What if... Chris stopped what he was doing and looked up at you, pulling his fingers from you to grab at your hands.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You want me to stop?”

“No,” you said loudly. “Please don’t stop.”

“Okay, then, you gotta relax for me, sweetheart. Just cum when you want to, it’s okay.” You calmed down before he went back to work, sucking and lapping at you. It felt so good, even the sweat on your back felt good, that your legs started to close. He didn’t protest. He just let it happen, and suddenly you could hear him gasp for air before returning right to your wet, now swollen pussy. That was finally what tipped you over the edge.

“Fuck!” You sobbed out, gasping for air as you felt at your highest. Chris took his mouth away from you and replaced it with his fingers, rubbing at your clit as your legs jerked and threatened to kick him. If you’d been looking at him you could see that he was smiling, that his beard was literally shining in the darkness with your wetness on him.

“Okay, I’m gonna go slow now,” he said softly, more to himself than you, and his fingers slowed on your clit. When you finally stopped moving, still gasping for air, he disappeared. You didn’t know where he went at first, but after a minute of stillness he returned with your steel water bottle and a washcloth from your closet, one you rarely used. It was wet with warm water.

“Thanks,” you managed to say, sitting up a little to drink. You twisted the lid off and your hands were shaking, but you drank the cold water. It breathed the life back to you, pulling you down from the highest of the highs you’d ever experienced. And then there was the heat of the cloth against you, and Chris’s soft sh, it’s okay, and then it was all over. He took the bottle and put it on your nightstand, then pulled your blankets out from underneath you. You were naked, still, but he didn’t seem to care. He tucked you in and started getting dressed, noticing that you were tired.

“I’m gonna let you get some rest, okay?” He said. “Sound good?”

“Okay.” He leaned down and kissed your temple, putting the TV remote over on the bed beside you.

“Good night, gorgeous. Call me tomorrow morning and we’ll get some coffee, alright?”

“Okay.” You shut your eyes and fell asleep without a single care in the world.

The next morning you woke up, noticing that you were naked above anything else. Normally you didn’t sleep naked, but you could feel your bare skin against your comforter and snuggled back into your blankets. You turned to your side, pulling the head of your phone charger out of the port and letting the cord fall to the ground. There was a single text.

Chris: Just woke up. Coffee at Sam’s?

Just woke up too. Sounds good. Just as you stopped typing, he started, and within a second he sent another text saying he’d be there to pick you up in half an hour. You pulled the covers off you only to realize that your legs were covered in little bruises and nibble marks from Chris. And then you realized the night before, but you didn’t freak out like you normally did. It felt good. You didn’t feel gross or dirty. You felt safe. Cared for. Satisfied. It was a change from the normal shame you felt after hooking up with someone. It was Chris, you realized. It was all him.

You pulled on some sweats, knowing he would be wearing the same thing, and emerged from your apartment to see that his car was already out there. You smiled to yourself as you got in, seeing that he’d obviously slept well.

“Well?” He asked. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just lost my god damn virginity,” you answered, only half joking. “Good. I feel really good.” He gave you a smile back, but it was a little hard to see underneath his famous Red Sox hat.

“Good. I’m glad.” He drove over to the coffee shop the two of you frequented and you paid for your coffee and sat down where you could people-watch through the streets.

“So last night was fine?” He asked.

“Chris, that was the most... I’ve never done that with a guy before and come out feeling not dirty. I’ve also never fallen asleep like that.” He chuckled.

“You deserved it. I wish I could've stayed, but the dog needed out. So would you want to do that again? Keep up this... thing?”

“Yeah,” you answered with absolutely no hesitation whatsoever. “If you’re okay with it, yeah. Maybe this time I can suck out your soul instead.” “I wouldn't say I sucked out your soul,” he rolled his eyes. “There’s much more where that came from.”

“Good. I want it.” You were only half joking there, too. “Friends with benefits?” He lifted up his coffee cup and you did yours, fake clinking them together like glasses.

“Friends with benefits,” he answered back. “What are you doing tomorrow after those courtroom scenes? We could go to that bar you’ve been wanting to check out.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” The two of you talked about more mundane things before finally parting ways with a see you later, princess. He drove you back to your apartment and watched you get in, then left probably to go hang out with his family like he usually did on the weekends. You shut the door to your apartment, sighing dreamily as you decided to lay in bed for most of the day and think about how Chris felt the night before.

You wondered if you’d ever be able to get him out of your head, or if he’d live there rent free, like the image of him eating your pussy out spread across your bed.

A/N: This is my first time writing any kind of smut whatsoever, so I hope I did it justice! If anyone wants it, I have a full series for this prepared for this.

#chris evans x female reader #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader

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sunkissedspider · 4 years

Text

Complicated | Peter Parker

MASTERLIST

***taglist is open!!! just send an ask or message me and i’ll add you :)***

***requests are open!!! just send an ask or message me your request if you have one :)***

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

summary: your and Peter's relationship is strictly physical... but what happens when feelings get in the way?

warnings: angst, smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), making out, language, fluff, etc.

listen to: i love you, bitches broken hearts, wish you were gay, and my boy by Billie Eilish (get ready for some Sad Vibes™ and some Angry Vibes™)

word count: 5.9k+ (👀👀)

a/n: parts of this are super angsty and sad. does it have a happy ending?... we'll see 👀. sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!!

You and Peter had a... complicated relationship, to say the least. Not only had you two been best friends since the third grade, but you had also been sleeping with each other for a year and a half. You guys had make the decision to lose your virginities to each other, and since it went really well, you both thought "why not do this for a while?".

No, you and Peter weren't dating, you were strictly friends with benefits. Honestly, you sometimes didn't understand why you guys weren't official, but then you remembered the conversation that you two had had with each other after the first few times you guys had sex. The conversation about how if sleeping with each other didn't ruin your friendship, dating probably would. Sure, you two still did the same things that you did before you guys had first slept together. Movie nights every Friday after school, hours spent at the carnival with Ned, MJ, and Betty, drives to the diner at 3 am whenever you got bored... only now, they were followed by absolutely mind-blowing sex. It was never awkward after though, like how you originally thought it would be.

You found it funny how you could always tell whenever Peter was horny; the way he would squirm in his seat, how he would move his textbooks to cover the bulge in his jeans, how needy he was, and no many other countless things. You couldn't even remember how many times you'd be watching t.v. on his couch, and he'd just lean over and kiss your neck in the way that drove you crazy, and then you'd end up having fucking incredible sex on every surface of his apartment.

But the times weren't always happy. Sometimes you'd fight. And when you cough, you fought. Yelling, screaming, doors slamming, the whole shebang. You two fought like you were a couple, but you knew you'd never be an actual one, and you kind of liked it that way, if you were being honest. You got all of the sex and the talking and (most) of the good things, all without the commitment (even though you both weren't sleeping or dating other people). And you always had thought that Peter liked it that way too.

***

"Petey!" You exclaimed, sitting down in front of him at the cafeteria, his eyes moving to look up at you from his phone. "I've got an idea."

"What is it?" He asked, with raised suspicion in his voice, noticing your wicked smile.

"Can we please, please, please go to that abandoned building that we drove past that one time?" You whisper-scream, your eyes darting all around Peter's face, trying to guess his response.

"Absolutely not," He breathes out, laughing quietly. "That place looks haunted as fuck. There's no way in hell I'm going in there."

"But I love scary shit! Please, Peter?" You plead, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could, but he just looks away from you.

"No way, Y/N L/N." He elaborates, taking a sip of your water that he had stolen from you.

"Come on, Pete." You whined, before lowering your voice, reaching to race small circles on one of his forearms and hands. "I'll do that thing that you like so much." You bit your lip softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes, knowing that it drives him crazy.

He clenches his jaw, a slight blush covering his cheeks, looking up at the ceiling in thought for a moment before looking back at you, his eyes darkened with lust. "Fine. But only because you're my best friend and you're really good at it."

***

It was about two hours after Peter dropped you off at your apartment that he knocked on your door, his "adventure bag" in his hands.

"Ready?" He asked, holding up two flash lights, an excited smile on his face.

You nodded eagerly, saying goodbye to your parents before grabbing your own bag, meeting Peter out in the hallway. He grabbed onto your hand softly, both of you walking out of your apartment building, matching goofy grins on your faces.

***

"Here you go," Peter laughed, opening the passenger side door for you, shutting it when you were buckled in. "You excited?" He asked after sliding into the car, buckling his won seatbelt.

"Very," You said, laughing slightly as you looked through all of the personal mix CDs that you and Peter had made together, perfectly fitting your matching taste in music. "I can't believe I actually convinced you to go with me."

"I get to spend, like... Wait, three hour drive there, we'll spend, like, two hours there, and then three hour drive back... Yeah, I get to spend eight extra hours with you, so, really, it's awesome either way." He breathed out, looking over at your as you continued flipping through the CDs, looking up at him briefly to smile at him.

"I, uh, I bought some extra stuff from Mr. Delmar's too." He said, reaching into the back seat of his car, grabbing his, what you two called it, adventure bag. "Two sandwiches with pickle, a couple packs of gum, two Cokes, a few waters, and another CD." He says, smiling at you, reaching over to do your handshake, but you just ignored it. Instead, you leaned over the center console, hugging Peter tightly.

He just smiled, hugging you back even tighter, moving his head to kiss you on the cheek before you two smiled even wider, pulling away before starting the radio, Peter pulling out of the parking lot, the GPS on his phone already coming on, telling him to turn left in six miles.

***

"Okay, okay. Uhm... Jennifer Aniston?" You asked, taking a sip of your water.

"Oh, hell yeah. I'd do her in a heartbeat." He says almost immediately, causing you both to laugh loudly.

"Harry Styles?" He asks, switches lanes on the highway as you smile widely.

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely! How could anyone not wanna fuck him?" You both laugh, before Peter's face suddenly turns serious.

"Are you, uh... Are you, ya know, sleeping with anyone else?" He asks, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps nervously.

You scoff, slapping Peter playfully on the chest. "No, Pete. I'm shocked that someone as hot as you wants to sleep with me. Besides, I like having sex with you. You're fucking amazing in bed." You giggle quietly, looking at the way Peter's cheeks are flushed a bright red at your praise.

Peter tries his best to not let a cocky smile take over his face. Obviously he knows how good he is in bed. The noises that you make and the praises that you give him are more than enough for him to know what he's doing is good.

"Are- Are you?" You ask, butterflies flying around deep in your stomach. You knew that you and Peter weren't official. But, for some reason, the thought of him sleeping with another girl made you sick to your stomach.

"Nope. I've never even come close to it. I'm comfortable with you, and sleeping with you is always nice. I don't trust anyone as much as I trust you, and you know how important trust is to me." He breathes out, laughing nervously.

You let out a breath that you were holding. If Peter had been sleeping with another person, he would've told you, and you would've been able to tell even before that. You two were best friends, after all. You knew Peter better than you knew yourself, and vise versa.

***

You and Peter had a blast at the old building, and he ended up being glad that you could convince him to go. Well, he would be gone either way just to spend time with you, but it was cute seeing how much you wanted him to join you.

It's never awkward hanging out with Peter even though you two are sleeping together. Well, it's usually never awkward. If it is, it's only ever when he's dropping you back off at your apartment. You never know whether you two should kiss or if you should just do your secret handshake. That was the one thing you could never figure out about Peter; "Does he wanna kiss me? Does he not wanna kiss me? Do I wanna kiss him?" were the thoughts that ran through your brain constantly, and most of the time you couldn't even look into Peter's eyes when he dropped you off at your place.

He was always gentleman though. Especially when you two were having sex. He would always make sure that you were okay, constantly reminding you of how beautiful you were, how good you felt, how much he was enjoying it, while still making sure you were, etc.

Along with the incredible sex, you and Peter had a nearly unbreakable bond... and you weren't sure if you wanted to test how it could break. Peter is the best friend you've ever had. He was always there to listen, to talk, to be your shoulder to cry on, and so many other things. He was your partner in crime, your ride or die, your boyfriend that wasn't a boyfriend... but who knows, maybe you did want to be with Peter. Even you didn't know the answer to that. And you didn't know if you ever would.

***

"I've got some news!" You squealed, sitting down across from Peter at the lunch table, where you always sat. It had been a few days since you and Peter had gone on your little road trip together, and you had already planned to go back again the following weekend.

"What is it?" He asked, smiling when he saw how happy you were.

"Alright... guess who just asked me out to the movies on Friday..." You said, you're eyes blowing wide with excitement.

It took Peter everything in him to not clench his jaw in anger, trying his best to keep a happy smile on his face. "Who?" He asked, one of his hands holding yours and he rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin.

"Brennan fucking Daniels!" You exclaimed, your smile even wider.

"Oh shit! That's awesome!" Peter said, lying to you for the first time in years.

He hated Brennan. Not just because he liked you and you liked him, or the fact that you and Peter were sleeping with each other, but because he was an asshole. Sure, he seemed nice on the outside, but Peter knew just how cruel he could be. Brennan used to live in the apartment next to Peter's, and even though you lived in the apartment right below Peter's, you never really saw Brennan. But Peter saw, and heard, everything. He saw how in the mornings girls would leave Brennan's apartment with tears in their eyes, their sneakers in their hands as they sped down the hallways, not wanting anyone to know that they were crying. He would date another beautiful girl every two weeks, and then he would throw them away just like they were nothing. Brennan Daniels was a player, he always had been and he always would be, and Peter was shocked that someone as incredible as you was going after an asshole like that.

"I'm sorry that I'm missing movie nigh for the first time in... what? Six years? Seven years? But I promise you that I'll stop by your apartment as soon as my date is over. How about we watch The Notebook this time?" You asked, your eyes turning sad slightly, feeling bad that you would miss hanging out with Peter for a few hours.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. Just have fun and enjoy the movie. I'll stop by Mr. Delmar's and grab some snacks, but just take your time." Peter said, putting on his best fake smile. Here he was again, as always, being the supportive best friend that he always was, putting you happiness ahead of his.

"Are you sure, Pete? Because I can reschedule, it's not a problem." You ask, making sure that Peter was really okay with it.

"Positive, just have fun." He fake smiled at you again, trying his best to convince you.

You just smiled, squeezing his hand before turning to talk to Ned, Betty, and MJ, not noticing the small, single tear sliding slowly down the smooth skin of his face, before he wiped it away quickly, leaning forward to join the conversation that you were having with everyone else.

***

"Fuck, Brennan! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You moaned, your back slamming against Brennan's toned chest as his grip on your waist tightened quickly as his pounded into you at a harsh, rough speed, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that your eyes rolled back as you let out a loud, choked out moan.

"Holy fucking shit. Fuck, are you gonna cum?" He groaned into your ear, his thrusts starting to become sloppier and sloppier as you both came closer to your highs each time he hit deep inside of you.

"Fuck, yes!" You moaned loudly, squealing loudly when he flipped you both, now pounding into even quicker as he looked into your eyes before dipping his head down, biting hard onto your collar bone, the force of his hips slapping against yours was enough for your bed to slam against the wall repeatedly, making you even gladder that your parents were on a date.

"Fucking cum for me, Y/N. Shit!" He groaned, his words only spurring you on further until, with one specifically deep thrust, you came undone underneath him, your walls squeezing him tightly as you moaned loudly, causing him to reach his own orgasm as he quickly pulled out of you, pumping hi cock harshly before he released onto your stomach, moaning out you name loudly as his head went back, before he collapsed onto your bed beside you.

"Fuck," You breathed out, your chest heaving up and down quickly as you tried quickly to regulate your breathing. "That was fucking incredible."

"Yeah. Shit, I thought that you'd be good in bed, but I didn't think you'd be that good." He laughed, looking over at you as he lifted one of his muscular arms above his head, looking over at you before asking you a questions that made butterflies appear in your stomach again. "How many people have you slept with. I know you couldn't have been a virgin before that, you were too good."

"Only one, but I've slept with him a lot before." You breathe out, laughing quietly, before you looked over at Brennan, seeing him start to stand up, gathering his clothes that were scattered all over the floor. "What are you doing?" You ask, trying not to sound nervous.

"I have football practice tomorrow and I need to go home and sleep, but could I see you again sometime soon? I, uh, I had a lot of fun tonight, and I really wanna see you again." He said, slipping his shirt on over his head, pulling his boxers on before he went to your desk, grabbing a towel before walking over to you, wiping his seed off of your stomach for you.

"I'd like that." You said, reaching a hand softly around one side of his neck, pulling his head down to yours, your lips meeting in a soft kiss.

After he got dressed and you threw on a pair of sweats and one of your (Peter's) hoodies, you walked Brennan to your front door, stepping into the hallway before kissing him deeply, your arms wrapped around his neck as you stood on your tippy toes, him leaning down to reach your lips, your figure seeming small compared to his 6'5 height.

"Bye." He said, smiling against your lips before pulling away, clearing his throat loudly when he saw Peter standing at the end of the hallway, his eyes blown wide at the sight of you two kissing in such an intimate way. It made his blood boil and his jaw clench when he saw how you smiled and how happy you seemed when you kissed him.

"Peter? What are you doing here?" You said, raised alarm in your voice. "I'll see you soon, Brennan." You said, waving him goodbye as Peter walked over to you, your body leaning against your front door frame.

"What was all of that about?" Peter asks, watching Brennan as he walked away, only turning to look at you when he saw him turn down the hallway.

"It's nothing, Pete. I thought I was meeting you at your place?" You ask, smiling at Peter, trying to ignore how awkward it was that the guy you were sleeping with caught you with a guy you had just slept with.

"It's late, I didn't want something bad to happen to you." He smiles back, trying his best to cover the pain he felt.

***

"Did you guys have sex?" Peter asked, causing you to turn your head away from his t.v., his tone a serious one, a large contrast to the funny, happy scene that was going on during the movie.

"What?" You ask, laughing, assuming he was joking as you took some popcorn into your hand, your eyes back on the screen as you snacked.

"Did you sleep with Brennan?" He asked, butterflies flying all around his stomach, nervous about the answer.

"Yeah," You shrugged, eyes still following the characters around on the screen. "It doesn't really mean anything though."

"Are you kidding? God, Jesus Christ, please tell me that you're joking." He said, causing you to look at him deeply in the eyes.

"What's wrong, Pete-" You start, before getting interrupted.

"'What's wrong?'?... 'What's wrong?'?! Gee, I don't know, Y/N. Maybe the fact that you fucked goddamn Brennan Daniels. You know he's just gonna leave you, right? He does that with every girl he fucks! And maybe its the fact that you didn't even ask me if you could sleep with him?!" Peter yelled, the first time he's ever yelled at you, his jaw clenched tightly, as he talked with his hands, his leg bouncing up and down, a sign that he was angry.

"Why does it matter so much? It's not like you're my boyfriend!" you snapped back, your body turned to face Peter's.

"What if I want to be? Have you ever though about that?" He shot back, his eyes darkened with anger.

"What are you talking about, Peter?" You said, your voice now back to normal, your eyes blown wide as you tried to make sense of what Peter was telling you.

"Nothing... It's nothing. Get out." He said, his hands going to cover his eyes.

"What?" You asked, your voice breaking at the harsh words coming from your best friend. From the one person that you trusted the most in this world.

"Just get out! Get the fuck out!" Peter screamed at you even louder than before, his hands moving from his face to his sides as he stood up, looking at you right in your eyes.

"Fine." You said, standing up, moving to his front door, slowly opening it, before turning around to look at him again. "Goodbye, Peter." And with that, you left his apartment, quietly closing door, constant streams of tears falling down your face as you desperately tried to wipe them away with the sleeve of Peter's hoodie, his scent that was imprinted on it only making you cry harder.

***

Peter tried to come by your apartment, climbing down the fire escape from his apartment down to yours. He was about to tap on your window until he saw you on your bed; you sat there, crumpled up in a little ball, wrapped in Peter's sweatshirt and your blankets, only your bedside table light on as you cried, your cheeks stained red from your tears.

"Fuck," Peter breathed out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He muttered before walking back up the fire escape again. His eyes stung as tears pricked up in his waterlines, realizing how bad he had fucked up... realizing that he had lost you.

***

You sat with Brennan the next day at lunch, trying to avoid Peter as much as you could, which was hard since you had almost all of the same classes. Of course, the awkward eye contact happened a few time in the following weeks of not speaking to him.

By the third week, both you and Peter had cut everyone off. Even though you were happy with Brennan, and you believed that he truly liked you, you were sluggish and quieter than you usually were. Unless you and Brennan were having sex, you were always bored. You missed the excitement that Peter brought into your life. He was Spider-Man, for Christ's sake, and you missed the way that he would explain his adventures of the day to you, even if most of them were very eventful. You missed the way that his eyes would light up whenever he saw you, or the way his grin would turn cheesy whenever you said a bad, corny dad joke. You missed the way that he made you feel special. Not just durning sex, but whenever you questioned yourself. Whenever you thought that you looked bad, or whenever you thought that you were stupid because you got a bad grade on a test.

Peter had always been there for you. Ever since you were nine years old. But now you didn't know if you would ever talk to him again. You tried not to think about it much, but whenever a teacher would say something that you could turn into a "That's what she said" joke, you would always curse yourself for looking next to you at Peter, forgetting for just a brief moment that he wasn't your best friend anymore. That he wasn't even your acquaintance anymore. That he was now just some guy that sat next to you in almost all of your classes. In a few months, you knew that Peter wouldn't even exist to you anymore, and that right now, you probably didn't even exist to Peter at all.

***

By this point, it had been two months since you had talked to the only person you had ever trusted with everything in you. You and Brennan had broken up a few weeks after the first time you slept together, and everyone was shocked when they found out that you had broken up with him, not the other way around like everyone had expected, Peter was especially surprised. He thought that you had really liked Brennan. Even if you had liked Brennan as much as Peter and everyone had thought, you knew that you couldn't be with him. Other than the fact that he was obviously cheating on you, you did want to stay with the person that had prompted the fight that had ended your friendship with Peter. Part of Peter wanted you to come back and be his friend again immediately, but the other part of Peter knew that that kind of situation wasn't going to happen. He had shut you out and yelled at you for doing something that he couldn't even really control. After all, he had told you that it was fine for you to go on a date with Brennan. And he had known that you probably were going to sleep with him. You were teenagers, that's what teenagers do.

Peter at this point wasn't even talking to May. It first started when he had quit smiling when they would go get Thai, remembering that it was something you used to join in on. Whenever May would bring you up, Peter's jaw would clench and he'd try and change the subject as quickly as possible. May knew that something was up with your and Peter's friendship after she hadn't seen you for a week. You were either always at Peter's place, he was always at your place, or you guys were always driving around somewhere upstate.

"Peter," May started, walking in front of him as he was seated on the couch, typing away on his laptop as he worked on an assignment for physics. "What happened to Y/N? I haven't seen her in months."

"It's nothing. She's just busy." He dismissed as he continued typing quickly.

"Even when you're both busy, you always find a way to see each other. This is the longest I've seen you be without her since the third grade, Pe-" She said before getting interrupted by Peter.

"I said it's nothing." He said sternly, his voice turning cold.

"Peter-"

"I said it's nothing, May! Jesus Christ, it's fucking nothing!" He yelled, slamming his laptop closed as he got off of the couch, making his way into his bedroom.

"Peter, you have to tel, me what's going on here. I've never seen you like this. What the hell is wrong?" May asked, concern filling her voice.

"Shit! I love her. God, I love her, May. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t do anything. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t concentrate. Please… just tell me what to do.” Peter begged, hot tears beginning to stream down his face, his eyes and cheeks turning red from the overload of emotions he was feeling.

"I'm sorry to say it, but you can’t do anything when you love someone like that, Peter. But you have to tell her or you’ll go crazy." She said, her eyes turning soft. She felt sympathy for Peter, she knew exactly what he was going through.

"I don’t want mess up what her and I have. I can’t lose her, May. I can't." Peter chokes out through tears.

"Just tell her how you feel, Peter. And pray that it’ll work out well."

"It’s not that simple, May! It’s more complicated than that! I’m sorry that I’m yelling, but I’m suffocating in my own feelings over here! Either I’m numb or I’m feeling everything, May… I can’t do this, it’s too much." Peter said, sinking onto the floor as he let his emotions take over him. May immediately ran over to him, sitting down next to him on the floor, hugging him tightly as he sobbed into May's neck, his hot tears soaking her striped shirt.

"You need to go talk to her, Peter. As soon as you possibly can, or you're gonna lose it before you can even say her name." ay said, kissing the top of his head as she pulled away, looking at Peter with sadness in her eyes as he tried to wipe some of is tears away with his hoodie, the one that you had given back to him by leaving it in a brown paper bag my his window on the fire escape.

***

You sat on your bed, trying your best to read one of your favorite books in a desperate attempted to make yourself feel better as one of your and Peter's favorite playlists played quietly in the background.

You jumped sightly when you heard the tapping on your window... it had been a while since you had heard it. Butterflies swarmed your stomach when you saw Peter, and you tried your best to wipe away the tears that filled your eyes and that trailed down your face slowly.

You and Peter looked at each other for the longest time you had in two months, both of you not breathing when you unlocked and opened your window, stepping back to let Peter climb through.

"Can I hug you?" He asked, more tears forming in your eyes as you heard him speak to you for the first time in two months.

"Y-yeah." You managed to choke out.

That was all Peter needed to hear before he wrapped his arms tightly around you, both of you immediately sobbing loudly into each other's embrace.

"Fuck, Y/N. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Peter said over and over again, your head buried in his chest.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I should've talked to you, I should've asked you. God, I'm so sorry, Pete." You cried, both of your grips tightening around each other.

"No, it's my fault. I overreacted. It's just that... I- I..." Peter stuttered out, his grip around you loosening as you stepped only a few feet away to get a good look at his face.

"What is it, Peter?" You asked, one of your hands going up to cup one of his cheeks, rubbing your thumb around the skin, remembering how much you had missed the smoothness of it.

"I-, I'm just gonna say it because I can't think of any other way to put it... Y/N L/N, I'm in love with you. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been in love with you since we were nine years old, and that's the reason I freaked out about Brennan. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. Jesus Christ, I can't breathe without you, I can't sleep, I can barely even do my fucking homework without you being around me. And I know that yo probably don't feel the same way about me, and that's okay, but-" He breathed out, a weight visibly lifting from is shoulders and he continued rambling, before you interrupted him.

"Peter, shut the fuck up." You laughed, causing him to top dead in his tracks.

"W-what?" He asked, his eyes widening with fear.

"I'm in love with you too, Peter. God, how could I not be? You're the sweetest, smartest, funniest guy I know. And I am so in love with you that I can't even read my favorite fucking book!" You said before stepping closer to him, your arms slowly starting to wrap themselves softly around his neck.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, his arms starting wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to each other.

"Please." You breathe out quietly.

And with that, you and Peter kissed for the first time in what felt like forever. Just two dumb and in love kids. You stood up on your tippy toes to deepen the kiss. It was one of those movie kisses... the total sparks flying, butterflies in the stomach kisses. It was one of the main things that you had missed. You missed how perfectly his lips molded to your, like they were two puzzle pieces that could only fit together with the other.

"Peter," You moaned when he started to kiss down your neck, his hands quickly lifting your sweatshirt off of you, you crawling onto the bed when you felt the backs of your legs hit your bed. "Please." You said, Peter's body situated between yours as he kissed your neck, his sweatshirt already discarded somewhere on your floor, your bare chests pressed against each other's.

"Please what?" He smirked against your chest, nipping on your bare breasts lightly.

"Fuck, make love to me, Peter." You begged, your back arching and a moan escaping your lips from the love bites Peter was giving you.

He looked up at you for a few seconds, your eyes meeting his, a soft smile covering your face as you ran your hands through Peter's curly brown locks, missing how they felt against your fingers.

You met your lips with Peter's, telling hi that you wanted him, and he kissed you back, a way of him showing you that it wanted you back.

Peter pulled away after a few minutes, his fingers going to the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them down, along with your underwear, before sitting back to take his own off. You licked your lips when his member sprung up against his lower stomach. If you both weren't so needy right now, you would've taken your time. But you two needed each other now more than ever.

Peter hovered over you again, his body between yours, is hard length in his hand.

"Ready?" He asked. The things that boy did to you... he always made you feel special, you didn't understand how he did it... it just came natural to him.

"Yes..." You whispered, connecting your lips with his as he slid into you, both of you moaning loudly into each other's mouths.

"Fuck!" You said in sync, your legs wrapping around Peter's waist before he started with a slow pace, wanting to make it last. He knew it probably wouldn't last as long as he would want it to, but goddamn, you felt fucking incredible around him.

"Shit, you're so tight!" He groaned, his head dipping down to kiss your lips tenderly, your lips parting to deepen the kiss as his thrusts sped up, causing you to whimper loudly into his mouth as he groaned.

"Fuck, Peter!" You screamed when he hit a spot so deep inside of you that it made your head spin as your back arched, your chests pressing against each other's even more, the feeling of Peter's skin on yours feeling like heaven.

Even with all of the experience Brennan had, Peter knew how your body worked better than you did yourself. He knew just what to do to get you to come undone underneath him, to have your eyes squeeze tightly shut, to have you screaming him name in only minutes.

"God, fuck," He groaned, his head going to suck deep purple marks into the crook of your neck, loud moans leaving the both of you. "Jesus, I'm already close, baby. I don't know how long I'm gonna last. You feel t fucking good around me."

"Fuck, cum for me, Peter. Please." You begged, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of Peter hitting deep inside of you, along with the words and groans coming out of his mouth.

He reached his hand down in between the two of you, rubbing harsh, tight circles on your clit, causing you to move your hands into his hair, tugging harshly as you came closer and closer to reaching your high.

"Fuck, P-Peter! I'm gonna cum!" You screamed, Peter groaning into your ear only spurring you on, along with the sensations on your clit. Within seconds, you were coming undone around him, your walls clenching tightly around his length as your legs tightened around his waist, your arms hugging his body closer to your.

And with only a few final thrusts, Peter was a complete groaning mess, his hips stilling as he came inside of you, his body collapsing on top of yours when his strength completely gave out, his head falling onto your chest.

The next few moments were spent in a comfortable silence, your hands smoothing up and down Peter's arms and back and you both tried to get your breathing to calm down.

"Y/N?" Peter said, looking up at you with his beautiful brown eyes. The sight would melt anybody's heart immediately, you were sure of it.

"Yeah, Pete?" You said, kissing his forehead before meeting his eyes again.

"God, I'm gonna sound like a little kid, but, uh... will you, ya know, be my girlfriend? Just us? No one else?" He asked, his heart rate speeding up a bit out of nervousness.

"Of course, dummy." You laughed, Peter moving up to connect your lips in a soft kiss, both of you feeling completely safe.

"I love you." He said, smiling between kisses.

"I love you too, Peter."

__________

@ertherealrose @peter-tiingle @petertiingz @fallinfortom

#peter parker smut #smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #spiderman x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #mcu #peter parker angst #peter parer x reader angst #Peter parker x y/n angst #spiderman ansgt #spiderman x y/n angst #marvel angst #mcu angst

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

Rules & Roses

“you’re late”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing, mention of death. Pretty sure that’s it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Non-binary!Reader x Emily Prentiss (poly triad)

Word Count: 2046

“You’re late,” I said to him while grinning. He shook his head, trying to stop himself from laughing so that he could focus on running up to me.

Aaron Christopher Hotchner was his name. Though I had learned a lot about him since we officially started talking on that cold Tuesday morning, I still thought of him as that six foot Nordic God. He hated that nickname, though. No matter how many times I used it, he never gave in, but I liked teasing him with it. Only two weeks had passed since we first started talking, and yet it seemed like we knew each other a lifetime. More than that, actually. My worries of talking to a stranger faded quickly the more we passed each other on the trail, then would chat as we walked to our cars. It was a nice, unspoken ritual we had. But it always started like this. No matter if it was warm or cold, sunny or cloudy, busy or quiet, we met at that park bench at the top of the U-turn. Usually, we ran beside each other, or he would be waiting up for me. This time, I was waiting on him. That wasn’t usual.

“How am I late?” he asked.

I looked at my watch. “It’s 7:17.”

“So?”

“You never reach the bench later than 7:15.”

Aaron smiled and put his hands on his hips to help him catch his breath. “Who’s stalking who now?”

“I never said you stalked me. Those are your own words.”

“Ha. Ha.” He panted for another second. “My son woke up late, so I got here late.”

I froze. During our little conversations here and there, he had never once mentioned anything about having a family. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, he seemed more than happy to flirt with me, and he never, ever said anything about having a son. This whole time, I thought he was an available man. I would have never flirted with him if I knew that he was taken, that he had other promises and responsibilities besides meeting me, practically a stranger, in the park every morning. Of course someone like him would have been snatched up by someone else. Of course the one person I saw myself potentially getting involved with since moving to D.C. was the one person I couldn’t have. My fucking luck, right? I was so stupid. How did I not see it before? Why did I get involved in all of this in the first place? I promised myself I wouldn’t talk to a stranger, and I broke that promise for him. I promised that I wouldn’t let my desperate urge for sex and love blind my ability to read social queues and dictate what was good and bad for me— and I fucking broke that promise. I saw him— I felt his hands on my hips— and everything I had learned from past experiences flew out the window. For a moment, for a blissful, wonderful moment, I forgot about Lauren because I had all of my focus on the Nordic God. A Nordic God that was taken. How fucking ridiculous.

Aaron sat down next to me. I scooted away, and he immediately noticed. A couple of days ago, I asked him what his job was at the FBI, and he told me that he studied the behavior of serial killers in order to find them. When he cracked a joke that his ability to “profile” serial killers was a curse that affected every aspect of his life, I asked him if he could profile me. Profiling was putting together all of the behaviors he spotted in someone in order to tell what kind of person they were, are, and could potentially be. Aaron laughed. He said that he had already profiled me the day we met. “Your eyes were on my friend the entire time,” he said. “Her name’s Emily, by the way.” So, that had confirmed that it wasn’t Lauren I saw. Though I was somewhat relieved, I was also disappointed, and Aaron noticed. He asked me why I was staring at her, and I simply dodged a real answer by telling him that I thought she was someone else. His profiling skills seemed to tell him I was lying. Despite the fact that he knew I wasn’t telling the truth, he didn’t pry. He never did. When I moved away from him on the bench, however, and he noticed, that was the first time I ever heard him get serious with me.

“What is it?” he asked me quietly and sincerely. I shook my head. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Why…” I hesitated for a beat. “Why would you keep flirting with me if—”

“My wife died years ago, Y/N. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

If I wasn’t embarrassed before, I was as red as a fucking tomato, and this time for all the wrong reasons. Originally, I had simply assumed that him having a son meant that he was still with someone. My first mistake. Then, I thought that it all meant that he didn’t like me, that he had been stringing me around for no reason, that maybe I was seeing between the lines. My second mistake. Now, I was embarrassed because I had made a complete fool of myself by tensing up at the thought of him having a kid— something I really didn’t mind, actually— and then I admitted that I thought he was flirting, all while practically pushing him away. I fucked this all up. Why was it that he made me trip over my tongue like this? I mean, he was always in my head since that first day we met and I felt his hands on my hips; and I found myself wanting to spend more time with him and impressing him. All of that had just been flushed down the drain. Any chance I had to keep being this happy and distracted had just disappeared because I had been stupid.

“I’m sorry.” I did a lot of compulsive apologizing around him. Because he made me trip over my own tongue, I always happened to say the wrong thing, so I constantly needed to apologize, which I could tell he found adorable, but I found it to be humiliating. “I didn’t mean to force that out of you.”

“It’s okay. It’s been so long, and I’ve had to tell so many people; I’m neutral about it these days.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“If you say sorry one more time, I’m going to start feeling bad.”

“Sorr—” I caught myself before laughing. “That’s going to be a bad habit to break.”

“All habits are hard to break.” He shrugged, leaned back, and looked forward to make the feeling between us casual again. “New rule, no more apologizing.”

Part of getting to know each other was making rules in order to make ourselves comfortable. I didn’t pry about his work, he didn’t ask me any more about his friend Emily. I didn’t stare below his belt (a personal rule I made for myself that I never disclosed to him), and he didn’t stare too long at my breasts when I would wear a low cut or tight shirt (a rule he made for himself that went unsaid). The rules would come up occasionally, but only when we were sitting on that park bench surrounded by roses. The parking lot, however, was fair game. Because that was the last time we would get to see each other until the next day, which was never guaranteed since he traveled so much— just like Lauren always did— we both got to break our staring rules until we would get into our separate cars. This new rule about apologizing didn’t seem like just a roses rule, though. If I had to guess, Aaron was going to keep an eye on me to make sure I wouldn’t break this new rule.

I nodded. “Okay, fine. But, no more being late,” I said. He also nodded. “And, I need a 6AM warning every time you won’t be here.”

Aaron looked at me. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Phone,” I demanded while holding out my hand. Aaron urgently dug into his pocket, racing to grab his phone before I could change my mind about giving him my number. He was too chicken shit to ask for it, so I didn’t mind taking that first step for him. Afterall, it was the most I could do since I totally messed up by getting uptight about his son. Speaking of which, when I turned Aaron’s phone on, I saw a picture of him holding his son, both of them smiling ear to ear after what looked like a victory after one of his son’s soccer games. I felt myself melting. “He’s adorable.” He had blonde hair, which wasn’t like his dad at all, but the brown eyes, lips, and nose were all a mirror image of Aaron.

“His name’s Jack.”

“How old is he?”

“Nine.”

I smiled at him before looking back down to unlock his phone and put my information into the Contacts app. When I was done, I turned it off and handed it back to him. “There. Now you can text me at 6AM every time you know you’re not going to be here.”

“And what about… other than 6AM?” He was biting his lip again. I always knew that he was flirting with me when he would bite his lip like that. He was the professional profiler, yet he couldn’t have been more obvious. One would think that he knew how to hide his tells better than that, but he really seemed to suck at it. “Can I call you tonight, maybe?”

“For what?”

He hadn’t anticipated that I would nudge him back with a question. “I—” He didn’t know what to say. I giggled. “Is it too late to take my rule back so that I can say sorry for being too forward?”

“Yeah. It is. Sometimes it’s okay to be forward.” I stood from the bench, giving him the idea that it was time to go. He stood, too, taking my lead because he seemed like a lost puppy that needed to be told what to do. “I get off work at seven. You can call me for whatever it is you have on your mind any time after that.” I jumped on my toes to warm myself up, also testing to see just how long he could keep his eyes on mine and not one any other part of me that was a little more… distracting. “I’ll race you to the parking lot.”

“What happens if you win?”

“Who said there needs to be prizes?”

“The new rule I just made,” he said like it was a tease.

I squinted at him. “You can’t just make rules up for your benefit, Aaron.”

“Well, if you win, Y/N, I’ll stop making up random rules.”

“And if you win?”

I saw his answer coming from a mile away, but I still felt myself smiling when he said, “I take you out for dinner after our call tonight.”

“Deal.”

Aaron wasn’t prepared at all yet, but that didn’t stop me from beginning my dash down the path. Though I was inevitably going to let him win, I still had to put up somewhat of a fight to make his win believable. Aaron seemed to notice immediately. Before I could make it very far, he was already speeding past me, intent on winning so that he could take me to dinner. Dummy. I wasn’t trying very hard to win. He didn’t seem to notice, though,even as we reached the parking lot where he claimed his victory. He slowed to a stop. As I caught up, he turned around and smiled.

“You’re late,” he teased me.

I rolled my eyes. “Pick me up at eight.” I immediately started making my way towards my car, which gave Aaron the chance to break his rule so that he could stare at me for a little longer than he was supposed to. “And don’t be late!” I called back to him.

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tobesobri · 4 years

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𝓞nly one more chapter to go after this omg!!!! Honestly, I considered giving up on posting this story so many times, but I’m really glad I didn’t because it’s been such an incredible experience thanks to all of you guys! This chapter is my personal favorite out of the entire series so I really hope you guys like it!

If you’d like a preview of Chapter 13 right now, you can join my patreon here! All current proceeds will be donated to the Marsha P. Johnson Institute. Thank you so much for all the love and support with this story ❤️

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️

CHAPTER TWELVE: SLAVE TO THE WAY YOU MOVE (6.2K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

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When her phone rang the next morning, she didn’t exactly get to it very easily. Not when she tried to roll away from Harry and he groaned, holding onto her even tighter.

“Leave it,” he whispered in a raspy version of his voice, eyes still closed, arm still firmly curled around her waist.

“It’s probably Will,” she reminded him, attempting once again to move away from Harry.

But he just groaned again like he was some kind of possessive dog. She huffed, falling against his chest when he showed no signs of giving up. Which remained true until she dug her hands into his side and tickled him away from her.

“Oi! Stop it!” He whined, finally letting go and pushing her away from him until he rolled over on his side and she was free to answer her phone.

“You cheating fucker,” he mumbled half into his pillow while she sat on the edge of the bed and took care of Will’s call before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you're still at Harry’s right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m out front. Sorry I didn’t call before I got here, it’s just been hectic.”

She immediately shot up from her spot on his bed and Harry opened his eyes again, turning onto his back to watch her as she raced to retrieve her clothes.

“Oh, um... I was just going to get an uber or something.” She held her phone to her ear with her shoulder as she grabbed her bra and then her dress from Harry’s floor.

“It’s no big deal. I’m headed back to pick up a few things anyways because I’m going to stay with Sasha the rest of the weekend.”

Y/N had been too lost in her panicking that she forgot why she’d ended up where she did last night in the first place. “Is she alright? Her mom I mean.”

Will sighed through the receiver, “Yeah. She was having chest pains yesterday. They kept her overnight for observation. I just got them home about an hour ago, but I’m literally still in my clothes from last night.”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at Harry, who stared at her concerned, waiting himself to know what was going on and why it seemed like she was leaving him already.

“Okay, um, I’ll be there in a minute.”

And then Harry shut his eyes tight and wished they could just rewind and go back to sleep.

“He’s waiting outside.” She spoke softly and Harry opened his eyes to her, finding her phone in her hand instead of at her ear.

Harry nodded, knowing she didn’t have any other options. She stared at him for a moment, growing sadder by the second, before she reluctantly took her clothes to his bathroom with her and changed back into them.

When the bathroom door shut behind her, he rolled onto his stomach, pressing his face into his hands because her leaving was not at all in his plans for the morning. He had so much more to say to her, more kisses to give her.

He didn’t want her to go home and never come back again because, in his experience, saying I love you wasn’t always enough to get someone to stay.

She crawled onto the bed behind him once she was changed, placing his t-shirt onto his bare shoulder to get his attention. Once he looked at her, she smiled apologetically.

“I’ll be back, I promise.” She leaned down, pressing her lips to his. She pulled away quicker than he would have liked her to and she looked at him almost like she was about to cry when he pouted and reached for more. She hated leaving him like she was, with so many words hanging above them still, but Will left her no choice.

“Sorry for bailing on you like that.” Will said while he drove in a hurry, breaking the speed limit on every street it took to get back to their building. She couldn’t blame him though.

Shaking her head, she quickly shot him down. “Don’t worry about it.” And she really wished he wouldn’t. After the night she had, she should be thanking him for leaving her at the party.

“Guess Harry owed you anyways for that one time he got drunk and you let him sleep in your bed.” Will smiled, glancing over at her while she nodded in agreement. Her heart fluttered thinking back to that time and how far she and Harry had come since then. She wondered if he’d liked her back then too, in the same way she had liked him, and just how long she was blind to it.

Will explained everything that happened with Sasha the rest of the way and she listened quietly, respecting his need to release all the anxious thoughts even though she sometimes found herself getting distracted. It was Harry’s fault, she figured, he’d said he was in love with her, and kissed her when he was sober, and she didn't get the chance to say a single word to him yet.

Y/N and Will split ways when he rushed to his room to pack a bag and she sat on the edge of her bed, waiting until he left again before she called Harry. A text might have sufficed, asking what time she could come back, but she wanted to hear his voice again. Desperately.

Her phone dinged in her hands before she got the chance, however.

(Harry, 10:03 a.m.)

Just got called to a meeting until five. I can pick you up afterwards?

Her shoulders dropped and a frown pulled on her lips. Five o’clock was so far away she had no clue what she was going to do until then. She had no plans for the day besides spending the entire thing with Harry.

(Y/N, 10:03 a.m.)

Okay.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night.” Will poked his head in her room and she tried to pretend like she didn’t just get the worst news of her entire life.

She nodded and he hesitated a moment before he left, wanting to ask if she’d be alright by herself in the apartment all weekend, but he refrained. She wasn’t a baby and he needed to stop worrying so much. His lips fell into another apologetic smile just before he took off. She listened to his footsteps and then eventually the front door as he shut it behind him.

Falling back on her bed, she already wished she was in Harry’s again. She still felt his arms around her, his lips on hers, his breath as he said those words.

When it was nearing five, she was just about ready. Harry had texted that he got out early and was on his way right as she got out of the shower. With her towel wrapped around her, she walked over to her dresser to figure out what to wear and put her focus on that, which calmed her nerves about seeing Harry again.

She dug through her underwear drawer first, realizing she hadn’t done laundry in a while when she only had a couple clean pairs left. But in her attempts to choose between the bright purple pair with pictures of cats on them or the stripey one with ‘Wednesday’ printed on the back, her eyes fell to something much more appealing at the bottom of her drawer that she hadn’t seen or thought of in a long time.

She’d never had a need for a nice set of lingerie, not even when she’d bought it just after graduating college. No one was going to see it besides her, but that really hadn’t mattered because it was for her. Picking the lace bra and panty set up in her hands now, it reminded her of when she’d first saw it online and then opened it up in person. When she tried it on and looked at herself in the mirror with all the hope in the world that it would make her see her body differently. It didn’t quite work out that way, however. It wasn’t an instant fix to her problems as she dreamed it would be, but even though she didn’t care for how she looked in it, it still made her feel better about herself, so she hung onto them.

And she was glad for that because if something were to happen with Harry, she was not doing it in kitty cat undies and a bra she owned since freshman year.

She had no clue if they would even get to the point of Harry seeing what was underneath her clothes, but just the thought of it made her restless in the passenger seat of his car. Then there was just being in his car at all that had her in a fit of butterflies as well because it was the first time they’d been out in public like this together. They weren’t around friends, not in the comfort of either of their homes anymore and while it used to scare her to potentially be caught with Harry, now she was wishing someone would. It would make telling her roommates, and especially Will, that much easier.

In order to keep her thoughts and her body under control, she focused on the mundane things instead. Everything she wanted to say to him was going to have to wait until they were at his house because that was the only place she felt comfortable enough to be completely vulnerable with him.

“How was your meeting?” She asked after he pulled back onto the streets again and although it was a boring question, it still made her just as nervous, possibly because she knew it was just her stalling until they walked through his front doors.

“Alright,” he mumbled, “would have rather spent the day with you.”

Looking out her window instead of at him, she quickly hid the blush on her cheeks. The lingerie on her skin under her long-sleeve and jeans became all-too apparent again. She needed to calm down, that much she knew, because she didn't even know what Harry wanted yet and she definitely wasn’t doing anything until she’d said what she needed to say.

She sighed shakily, “Well you can have me for the rest of the weekend.”

He grinned at her words, not sure if she was hiding an innuendo in them or not, but he didn’t risk asking. She was staying, at least until the weekend was over, and that’s all he cared about.

Once they’d reached his house, and she glared at the stupid For Sale sign again, she realized why she hated it so much. It wasn’t just a house to her anymore, it wasn’t some place that made her feel like a stranger. It held her most personal objects and most precious memories. It had become home to her, way more than her apartment ever did.

She placed her things down on the island in the kitchen and it was clear he had hired someone to clean up while he’d been gone. There was no chocolate cake smeared into the countertops and no empty bottles of beer laying around anymore. It was clean again with absolutely no telling if a party had even happened last night. She’d almost forgotten, too, since the only part of last night on her mind was when they’d gone upstairs together.

Watching him pour two glasses of water, it took her right back to their first night together. So much had changed since then. She wasn’t even the same person anymore, she was sure of that.

Although she was possibly the most nervous she’d ever been, she knew she had to just spit it out. Rip the band-aid off and tell him everything she felt about him. She cleared her throat and hoped for the best.

“I liked you all this time too, you know.” Her confession wasn't nearly up to par with his, but he’d take it anyways. Grinning, he glanced at her sideways while closing the fridge.

“Could’ve fooled me.” He slipped her one of the glasses across the counter, knowing very well that she did, in fact, fool him into thinking otherwise. Until she kissed him this morning and promised she’d be back, he still hadn’t been convinced.

A slew of apologies rested on her face, in her furrowed brows and flared nostrils, “I didn’t think you liked me so it was easier for me to just push you away.”

He leaned onto the counter, facing her but not looking at her. His mind went in all different directions then. First to the time he told Will he thought he’d made his feelings for her obvious and now realized Will had been right. Then, and most prominently, his mind snapped to quite possibly the worst day of his life, or at least since he’d known her. His heart broke all over again when her previous words rang in his head as clear as they had several weeks ago. When she told him she didn’t care if he saw other people. When he cried in the exact same spot he was standing in now because he thought she didn’t have a single feeling for him at all. He never thought she just might be pushing him away in order to protect herself and he felt stupid for not realizing that.

But… hiding her emotions seemed to be Y/N’s specialty.

“You were really good at that… pushing me away.”

She sighed again and all the words in her brain finally just spilled out for him to hear and for the kitchen walls to absorb. “I’m really sorry about that Harry, I think I was just too afraid of you rejecting me… and you never really said anything either so I assumed… But I was heartbroken when I found out what you did in New York, I just,” she paused for a moment to look into his eyes again and the way he looked at her with so much care gave her enough confidence to continue, “I didn’t want you to think I liked you, or that I was jealous, because I didn’t think you would ever feel the same about me.”

Harry remained quiet when it was written all over her face that she still had more to say and all he wanted to do was listen. “But then, um,” she began once more, “then I didn't really want you to like me or for that song to be about me or any of it because I felt like you would be better off with someone else who could be more open with you.” Her next words came out in a whisper, “I just thought it was best to leave you alone.”

He nodded, averting his eyes to where he ran his fingertip over the edge of his glass, figuring out everything he wanted to say first but when he looked at her again, he realized that was part of their problem. Not just saying how they really felt without thinking of the consequences.

He took the two steps needed to stand right in front of her, to be able to reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear and fill his senses with everything he loved about her. Her soft skin when his thumb brushed past her cheek, her coconut-scented shampoo, and especially her eyes that cared about him and trusted him.

“That’s not what was best, I hope you know that.” He began softly and she nodded before he continued. “Also hope you know how sorry I am that it took me so long to say anything to you… but I realized I was falling in love with you after you told me about your past. So when you said you didn’t like relationships, I didn’t want to hurt you so I kept it to myself. But I still foolishly fell for you anyways, didn’t I?” He glanced between her eyes, watching the crinkles appear on the outside of them as she smiled.

“But Y/N?” He started up again and her smile faded when his did too, “There was never anyone else I wanted. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am for making you think that and upsetting you. That was never my intention.”

She hesitated a moment before swiping a few stray strands of hair from his forehead. “It’s okay. I know that now.”

There was still a look of uncertainty in his eyes, like he didn’t deserve to be forgiven and like he still wasn’t sure she was actually going to stay, and he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to.

“I’m not going to leave again, Harry…” she assured, practically reading his mind in a way she had never been able to. “Not unless you want me to of course.”

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips as he grew closer, close enough to press his forehead to hers and swipe his thumb along her cheekbone, “No, I don’t want that. I never wanted that.”

Although he was still smiling, sadness fell over his eyes that he quickly hid by flicking them down to her lips. She had already been in love with the way he looked at her mouth, but if it was even possible, she liked it more now. Now that they weren’t being idiots and wasting time. Now that both of their mouths had said things they’d been meaning to for a long time now.

He glanced back to her yes, all sadness stripped from his face now, “S'alright if I--”

She cut him off, already nodding before he had a chance to ask. She didn’t want him to ask that question ever again. She didn’t want him to worry about being too forward, about hurting her, about crossing a line. There was no line for him to cross. She just wanted him to kiss her without thinking about it.

And he did. It took him another few moments, but his lips were on hers again and it felt just as amazing as it did last night and then again this morning. She hated that she could have been kissing him for a long time now, but she tried not to dwell on her mistakes too heavily. Not when he was kissing her the way he was and all she wanted to focus on was his lips and his tongue and his hands.

His hands that fled from her face moments after she brushed her tongue against his and things took a turn from innocent kissing in his kitchen to needy hands sliding up the back of her shirt and wet moans from his lips when she pressed into him. It helped her confidence knowing his fingertips were inching closer to her bra, the one she was grateful she had on right now.

And then she wrapped her hands around his forearms and backed away before he got any further. But when she saw the look on his face, she wasn’t sure that was the right move. He was absolutely terrified. He pulled his arms from her grasp quickly and put an inch or two of space between them again.

“I’m so sorry.”

Again, she put a halt to his train of thought with a simple gesture. She shook her head and reached her hand up to his face, wrapping it around the back of his neck and pressing her thumb where his dimple should be.

“Don’t be… just meet me upstairs in ten minutes.” Her voice was soft, but her eyes might as well have been undressing him right there in the middle of his kitchen. Although that would have been nice, she really didn’t want him to see her in her lacy underwear in his fucking kitchen. The lights were too bright for her liking and she never got the chance to warm up to the space as much as she did his bedroom.

His body eased and then he nodded slowly, never looking away from her while she pulled her hand from his face, grabbed her bag and walked away from him.

Ten minutes was way too much time to be away from her and he spent the whole spanse of time staring at the clock, wishing it would go faster but also wishing it wouldn’t. He had no idea what she was up to and even though his mind went crazy with all the endless possibilities, he just hoped that whatever it was, she knew what she was doing.

She squeezed her hands around the arms of his chair when she heard him heading up the stairs. She didn’t move, however, just focused on her breathing as she convinced herself not to run into his bathroom and hide before he made it to her.

Ten minutes was four minutes too long. She sat down and realized that once every piece of her body was set aflame with anticipation. She knew what she wanted, but she still wasn’t sure about him. What if he didn’t want her?

The events from last night flew past her eyelids. He kissed you because he wanted to, not because he was drunk, she reminded herself. And he kissed you again, moments ago in the kitchen, also not because he was drunk. She thought about his touch on her skin, slowly inching up her back. She thought about his words from last night and they settled her nerves down to a minimum.

That was until he appeared in the doorway to his bedroom.

He sucked in a breath of air seeing her in that familiar spot in the middle of his room. Sitting on her throne and looking out over Los Angeles like she owned it. But it was hardly what he expected when she told him to meet her here. Especially when she didn’t even look at him, just tensed up her shoulders and her grip on the chair when she noticed his presence.

“Everything alright?” He asked and she continued to just stare out the windows, nodding and trying to regain whatever courage she had in order to ask him to do this in the first place.

He furrowed his brows, confused as he walked over to his bedside table and removed his phone and wallet from his back pockets and then each of his rings from his fingers, knowing that whatever she was planning, he didn’t want anything weighing him down. It also gave them both a moment to relax.

Right when he began removing his watch, the last thing on him besides his shirt and jeans, she stood and took a few steps in his direction. He froze and looked at her while she hugged her arms around herself. He realized then that she was wearing a robe which looked an awful lot like one of his. If the lighting was better, he’d be able to make out the stitching on the left breast of his last name and confirm that she had, in fact, slipped into his robe while she made him wait downstairs.

“What are you--?”

He stopped talking, and stopped thinking and probably stopped breathing when she untied the belt around her waist and let both halves of the robe fall open to reveal what she’d been hiding underneath. His watch hit the floor instead of the table.

He swallowed thickly, not sure how long was too long to stare at her like he currently was with his jaw slightly ajar and his eyes refusing to blink in case he might miss something.

When he snapped out of it, he walked over to her finally, not giving a single shit about his watch. He stood in front of her and kept his hands to himself even though it was painful to do so. Instead, his eyes flickered to the embroidery on the silky fabric draped over her shoulders and he grinned, “S’that my robe?”

It was a dumb question, because of course it was his. It had his name stitched into it.

“Hope it’s okay that I borrowed it.” She ran her fingers up the hem and made him light-headed. Her matching pink lace underwear was one thing, but the robe was almost too much for him to process.

He dragged his eyes reluctantly from her breasts, the transparent material showing off more of her than he’d ever seen, and back up to her eyes. “If I say it isn’t, will you take it off?”

She smiled at him and then took one step closer. “Why don’t you,” she began, grabbing his hands and placing them on her bare hips, “take it off yourself?”

Her voice was shaky and even though her actions exuded confidence, he knew her anxiety must be through the roof. He knew her too well. He knew she didn’t like being touched, didn’t like being seen when she wasn’t covered. Didn’t like being open. It soothed his own nerves to know that all of the things she didn’t like became things she did, as long as it was with him. The only thing on his radar now was making her as comfortable as he possibly could.

When she let go of his hands, he kept them there, pulling her in to close the gap she’d left between them until his mouth found hers again. He’d daydreamed through his entire meeting about kissing her the entire rest of the night, but that was no match to the reality of it. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect her to be standing in front of him like she was, putting his hands on her body in a whole new way than ever before.

His fingers slid gently up to her shoulders where he slipped them under the silk until it fell right off her skin and gathered into a pool at her feet. He pulled away for a moment, resting his forehead on hers when she reached for more. He smirked at the way she pouted impatiently.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, bringing a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear and he didn’t give her much of a chance to respond, but the blush on her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes said more than enough.

Once his lips were on hers again, he backed her up slowly, stepping right on top of his, now irrelevant, robe until they reached the chair.

She pulled away from him this time and when she spoke next, there wasn’t a stitch of hesitation in her voice, “I want you.”

Swallowing, he nodded in understanding. She knew exactly what she was doing and she wanted him. His hands were back on her hips as he gently coerced her into the chair.

“Sit,” he whispered and she did exactly what he said without a second thought.

She was back in her chair in front of him, her hands gripping the armrests while she looked up into his eyes eagerly because she had no clue what he was planning but she trusted him to know that whatever it was, he wouldn’t hurt her. He was Harry and he’d never make her do something she didn’t want to.

He sunk to his knees then and she already felt the pool between her legs before he even touched her. He never took his eyes off of her when he lifted his hands to her knees and slowly slid them apart to fit himself in the middle. He waited for any signs that he should stop, but when she glanced down at his hands that sat idly on her thighs, he figured it was a good time to move them.

“Is this alright?” He asked after he’d hooked his fingers under what little fabric there was of her panties and paused to make sure. When she nodded, he proceeded and began pulling them off. He went slow, almost painfully for her, but she was appreciative of it. If he went much faster she wasn’t sure how she’d respond and ruining everything right now was not on her agenda.

Again, his eyes stayed planted on hers as he tugged the lace over her hips when she adjusted slightly to give him room to do so. They went the rest of the way down her legs with ease until they, too, were on his bedroom floor. Her legs fell back into place around him as he slotted into his previous position. She focused on everything physically here and now as best she could, whether it was the way he looked at her, or the way the fabric of his shirt felt on her knees, the rough texture of his jeans on her calves. Just knowing that it was Harry sitting in front of her like this, while she was this exposed, calmed her right back down. Well, at least, it calmed the nerves, but she still felt the surge of butterflies in her stomach every time he made a slight movement and she could nearly puke with excitement.

“You okay?” He asked quietly, and her eyes bounced from his down to where their bodies connected and then back up and she nodded. It reassured him because even though she had said she wanted him, she had every right to change her mind.

“Let me know if you want me to stop.”

She nodded again, positive that if she opened her mouth to say something nothing would even come out. Her lack of ability to speak made him smile, though, as he slowly descended down her body.

He kissed her from her collarbone down to her belly, pulling her legs out around his waist so that she slouched in the chair and gave him better access by the time he reached his destination. His hands gripped her thighs tight as he sat back on his knees and let his mouth do the talking.

She tensed up the second he licked the tip of his tongue into her and he immediately backed away staring up at her in shock that he’d already done something to hurt her.

Instead, she finally opened her own mouth, “I’m sorry, I’m fine. I just… didn’t expect… you can keep going.”

He fell back into place hesitantly, but this time he kissed his way up her inner thigh, making sure to keep at least one eye on her at all times. When he had his tongue on her again, though, she sunk into her seat with a sigh and he wasn’t as worried.

When he spread her open with both his hands planted on her inner thighs, his tongue explored even more to the point of finally managing a moan out of her. She didn’t give him a whole lot, but he didn’t really need it the way he watched her like a hawk to make absolutely sure she was really okay.

And she did seem that way, she seemed more than okay, in fact. Everytime he flicked his tongue over just the right spot, her eyes rolled back into her head and so he made mental notes of everything she liked best. Even though she never closed her eyes completely, never looked away from him for more than a second, what she did do was more than enough. Although he normally got off on verbal praise, just the way her body reacted to him seemed to do all the tricks he needed it to. The way she moved against him, the way her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pouted and she sucked in shaky breaths, he didn’t need anything more than that.

What she did next had him moaning, however. She dug her fingernails into his scalp and tugged his curls, leaving him in stinging pain that felt so fucking incredible. It was just another reminder from her that what he was doing was good and that he made her feel good enough to have her hands at the back of his head trying to get more from him. He fidgeted and shifted his weight just to get some relief himself while he looked at her with darkened green eyes and his tongue suddenly picked up the pace.

She gasped and leaned back into the chair, her eyes fluttering shut. He let her do it for a moment until he slowed to a stop and pulled his mouth away just far enough to speak.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered, catching his breath, and she felt the heat of it on the sensitive bits his tongue had just been getting to know. She, again, did as he asked without question. His voice wasn’t filled with anything but care for her so no matter what he asked, she’d probably do it.

“Don’t stop looking at me, okay?”

She agreed, nonverbally, before he even considered continuing where he left off. It wasn’t that he needed to see her face, although that had been a huge factor in telling him what he needed to do. It was mostly that he didn’t want her to close her eyes and have a single stitch of an intrusive thought leak into her brain. He didn’t want her to see anything besides him, not the trauma she’d been through or the face of the asshole who had done it. He wanted her to see him; his green eyes, his dimples, his curly brown hair that tickled her skin and framed his sweaty forehead. He wanted her to see that it was him on his hands and knees in front of her and that his touches would not make her hate her body. They wouldn’t betray her or disrespect her. Her body was safe in his hands and he wanted her to see that.

When he knew she was close, he found her hands digging into the cushion below her and slipped his fingers through hers instead, letting her squeeze the life out of them and dig crescent shapes into his skin. By this point, he’d become obsessed with her body, in love with the way it said everything her mouth didn’t. He didn’t need her to say anything, though, he never really did. Just being near her had always been more than enough. The only thing he would need her to say now though, was if she wanted him to stop.

But those words never left her lips and he stopped expecting them to as he watched her face contort with pleasure. He wondered if anyone had ever made her feel as good as he was and it made him sad to think she’d gone so long never being treated the way she deserved. He adjusted again and gave her everything he was capable of.

Her body moved against him like a tidal wave and he’d probably let her drown him if it meant feeling her buck her hips up into his mouth the way she was and he’d most definitely die at the hands of her body if it meant feeling her heels dig into his back for an ounce of mercy. He didn’t give her very much though, mostly because the look on her face told him that if he stopped now, she might actually kill him.

Even so, he worshiped the fuck out of her in every sense of the word. He never looked away, he watched her mouth as it fell open. He watched her eyebrows as they furrowed. And most importantly, he watched her eyes until she couldn’t take it anymore and they crossed back into her head, while her whole body shivered against him. He felt her coming more than he heard anything about it at first.

But then she whispered and he completely forgot what he was doing.

“I love you so much, Harry.”

He blinked, looking up at her so much more in love than he ever had been before. He wanted to kiss her, to hear her say it again ten more times at least. When her hips shifted upwards again, he snapped out of it and scooted closer to her to gain some control while she was losing it, using his forearms on her hips to keep her in place. That had only led her to squeeze his hands tighter than ever before while her thighs got him in a choke hold, but he loved every single second of it, which is why he didn’t take his tongue away from her until she settled down.

She breathed heavily for a few moments while he watched her come down from her high as he rested his cheek against her thigh and stared up at her, still holding onto her hands and rubbing his thumb across the back of one of them. He heard her words over in his head again and they became his most favorite words ever.

“So you do love me?” He asked quietly, not wanting to miss too much of the sounds of her catching her breath because of what he’d just done to her body.

She laughed and fluttered her eyes shut again. After a moment, she shook her head and changed the subject, “Please don't ever leave this house.”

He chuckled, sending cool air against her core again while he leaned over to kiss her thigh softly, “Whatever you say.”

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