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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 3 months

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The Stunt ^**

This one is based off of the following request where Harry and Y/N are in a PR relationship and he realizes he likes her until it's all over.

A shout out to whoever created that AI pic, it was a repost from TikTok so I'm not sure who actually made it!

Warnings: PR relationship, mentions of PR drama from the past/present, heartbreak & failed relationships, verbal arguments, jealousy, a quick non-consensual kiss, alcohol consumption, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex

WC: 19.6K

It seemed really stupid to you, a PR relationship with your co-star for a film? Sure, this was your debut into acting, but you had confidence in your ability to perform well and were certain that the film would do great, it was a lovely story! You didn’t need additional PR help to make the film successful. You loved the script, it was a nice, yet realistic friends-to-lovers story. It had range, happiness, sadness, comedy, intimacy…you wouldn’t have chosen a stupid script for your first attempt at the silver screen! So the fact that your agent had written this into the contract with whoever your co-star was going to be, it felt a little insulting to you.

“It’s offensive! I don’t want to fake date anyone, Fred!” You whined into the phone, “Everyone’s going to see it coming from a mile off…what if they cast someone I hate? What’s gonna happen then?” You asked and he spoke calmly, trying to appease you.

“Think of it as more acting practice! You have to act like you’re into the person when in public.”

“No one is going to agree to that.”

“Sweetheart, everyone will agree to it. It’s a classic PR move! They’re just gonna be kicking themselves for not thinking of it first! It basically guarantees film success for these rom-com type of things.” He said and you sighed and nearly hung up out of frustration. You wished that he had at least asked your permission before including this in the contract.

A few weeks later you were called in by the production and directing team for a few chemistry tests with the two actors that they were split between. They didn’t want to tell you who they were looking at for casting as to prevent any bias on your part during the chemistry read. They wanted to see it for themselves who you vibed with the most. Fred had told you to stop trying to figure it out because both picks were fairly new to the acting world. And when the day came, you were sick to your stomach. You hardly ate anything since the night before because of it.

When you were introduced to the first guy you did recognize him a bit but you couldn’t really place him. He shared that he had done a lot of supporting work and this would be his first time in a lead role if he got it. He was trying so hard though, trying to make it look like you guys were vibing well. Your interactions felt really inauthentic. The way he would knock his head back and laugh in an exaggerated manner whenever you said something slightly humorous, the way he would lean in closer to speak to you, and touch your arm or shoulder even when you crossed them over your body to indicate that you were uncomfortable. Then when you guys did a couple of test scenes, one of them being the lead up to one of the more intense dialogues between the characters, he came on really strong and theatrically and it was cringey; even you knew that he wasn’t it as they thanked him for his time and off he went.

“We’re gonna break for a few minutes. Meet back in here in 10!” Someone announced and you took full advantage to go make yourself a tea while they reset the makeshift “set”. Fred knew better than to talk to you right now, you were still quite annoyed at him for putting you in the PR dating situation. So when you felt someone come up beside you, you didn’t say anything, he’d get the hint.

“Ummm, pardon?” You heard an unfamiliar voice and you did a double take over your shoulder when you realized that the person who was looming behind you patiently was Harry Styles, the glasses he had on threw you off a bit.

“Oh god, sorry! I’m taking up the whole counter aren’t I?” You apologized as you grabbed your phone and dropped it in your purse and grabbed that from the top of the counter to make space for him and he smiled at you.

“That’s alright.” He assured you, “I just wanted to introduce myself before we all have to head back in.” He explained and you nodded. You quickly set down your tea packet and extended your hand to his and you shook it firmly and briefly. “I’m Harry.” He introduced himself.

“Y/N.” You smiled warmly.

“I know. Umm, I really liked your EP.” He said to you and your eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh wow, thank you so much! I like your glasses.” You said stupidly and he laughed as he glanced down at the ground between you and you mentally scolded yourself, “ Y-your albums too!” You added in, “I genuinely love all of your albums.” You giggled, trying to mask the star stuck feeling and embarrassment from your little blunder. “The last one, it was phenomenal! I put so many friends onto it.” You shared and he smiled timidly as he glanced away for a moment again before looking back at you.

“Thank you, that’s very generous of you.” He thanked you modestly, as if he hadn’t won an album of the year Grammy for it.

“It really was the least I could do. Great work.” You assured and he chuckled. You knew that one of his best friends was producing this film and you’d heard rumors that he might be writing on the soundtrack, so while you were shocked that he was here for this chemistry/screen test you didn’t think it too odd. Maybe it was going to help him get the vibes between you and whoever else they cast opposite you so that he could start working on the music. “So are you going to be writing some pieces for the soundtrack?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, I thought the script was so genuine and I don’t know, I’m quite partial to hyperrealistic stories like this. The ones that show the challenges as well as the good things.” He said and you nodded.

“Oh my god, same. I know that films should sometimes be an escape, a reprieve if you will, from reality and just be optimistic and romanticize the good but I really love it when it feels like I’m looking in the mirror, you know? Or when it helps me relate to others more. I just love the humanity so much.” You explained and he nodded along.

“Yeah, definitely.” He agreed. “What do you love most about this story?”

“Just the hope of it all…” you sighed happily, “I mean, who isn’t a sucker for a good friends-to-lovers trope? That whole “it’s been you all along” moment has happened to so many of us, I think. Like it’s the ideal scenario for falling in love, no? When you discover that your love for someone is so much bigger than you thought it was. But what I loved most is the way Cara learns to love herself and knows when to choose herself. It’s shows so much strength and integrity to herself. But yeah, I mean the love story between the two characters is also really great, so…normal.” You hummed.

“Yeah, it’s so pure, isn’t it? I love how it builds so realistically, like you know all the good bits but also all the bad bits of a person and still love them and they you just as you are.”

“Exactly.” You hummed and he smiled.

“And how’d the last guy do with that?” He asked you, “You can be honest, I won’t tell.” He assured you with a little grin.

“Honestly, a little too forced for my liking. Like fake laughing and inside jokes kind of thing, it was a bit cringey. And well, the acting was far too theatrical for film in my opinion. He very clearly comes from a theater background, it was like really over the top.” You explained to him and he hummed.

“Hmmm…Well, I hope I do better than that.” He said and you froze.

“Wait. You’re the other choice?” You asked him and he nodded, “Oh…”

“I didn’t come and say hi just for fun. It was strictly business.” He joked with a playful grin and you shook your head in disbelief.

“And here I thought you were just here out of the kindness of your heart. To like pick up on the vibes for inspiration for the music.” You chuckled, feeling even more nervous now. “I was basically told that this was amateur hour by my agent.”

“Well, between the two of us, I’m quite the amateur when it comes to acting.” He said and you laughed a little in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me? This is my first acting gig since…my high school play where I was dragged into playing Rizzo because the original cast member dropped out the week before because she hated how she looked in the wig!” You exclaimed, “Please forget the modesty. You’ve been in a Nolan film!” You said to him and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yeah, and all I did was swim around in the freezing cold ocean trying not to drown in that heavy ass uniform. The panic I portrayed was very real! There was no acting talent required. I was genuinely fighting for my life on that set.” He joked and you laughed and shook your head.

“Well, I think you’ll get the part. We’re genuinely laughing, right? Or are you acting so well that I can’t tell whether it’s genuine or not?” You asked and he raised his eyebrows smugly.

“Definitely acting, even wore my glasses since the character does int eh script.” He said jokingly and you giggled.

“Well, they suit you.” You complimented and he smiled bashfully.

“Thanks.” He responded, “But ummm, we are genuinely laughing…I think we’ll do good in there.” He said with a little more confidence.

“I think so too.” You hummed.

“Here’s to hoping. Well, I’m gonna head back in now, but I’ll see you in there, okay? Wish me luck!” He smiled warmly and you smiled and nodded as you watched him head back into the reading room.

************

It almost goes without saying that Harry was cast as the other lead opposite you. You guys did get along well and you also read well together, the screen test was great too. It was evident how personal these roles felt to each of you. So after a few days you were sitting before each other with your teams present to work out the terms of this PR relationship you’d have. It was all pretty basic; some of the parameters set were that this was business so no canoodling outside of the contractually obligated appearances, there were an agreed upon number of appearances you’d have to do during and post production. There were strict boundaries on what PDA was okay and what wasn’t, it was all very straight forward. So with both parties having most of their conditions met, you guys signed the contract.

…. ONE MONTH LATER ….

Now, you guys were a quarter of the way through filming and being the delusional hopeless romantic you were, you’d started developing real feelings for Harry. He was just so sweet and fun and thoughtful. For example, your birthday had fallen during production and he bought you flowers and a cake and had everyone sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you. Or when you had a scheduled appearance but were feeling ill from your period cramps, instead of making you sit through dinner at a restaurant, he drove you to the nearest pharmacy and walked around with you to buy you tampons and snacks. You loved it and everyone else did too. Or just little thoughtful things he’d do for the staff after a long day, he was just a complete sweetheart and it was getting harder and harder for you to just ignore it and not take his kindness all that personally.

Harry wasn’t really one to talk your ear off, he loved conversation, but mostly the listening bit. He liked to learn and hear other people’s thoughts and opinions. Like a sponge, he absorbed all the information and stowed it away for a later time. You could tell by the way he looked at you that he was listening. Like now…

“-it was just really stupid.” You sighed in slight irritation, “Like you just don’t follow someone to their car in a parking garage at night to ask for their picture!” You ranted and he nodded.

“You’re absolutely right. That’s scary, when someone follows you all the way to your car…”

“It was! And it was one of those things where like, if I started to run I knew they would start running after me so I tried to stay calm but in the end I just freaked out a little bit.” You explained, “Fuck, now they’re going to write shit about me being rude online.” You sighed as you guys drove out to the wine bar you were going to be spending some time at this evening.

“Look, you know you did nothing wrong and you’ve never lost it on someone before. If they do post that video and see an empty car park no one is going to think you were being rude. You can’t chase down a woman at night in a parking structure.” He said and you sighed.

“You’re right…” you agreed after you calmed down a bit. “H-how do you do it?”

“Chase women down?” He asked with a playful smile and you rolled your eyes and giggled at his little joke.

“Seriously though. Like deal with the obsessed people and the stalkers that just follow you around from a distance.”

“It is scary for me too. I mean, it sucks to say you get used to it, but you will.” He said and you nodded, “Like I don’t really go out alone in the evenings any more, try to do everything in the day time, with friends if possible. And like at night I’ll drive if I really need to go out, but like I’ve caught people trying to sneak in behind my car at the gate at my home in London. Or just like wait out there for me to come and go. I hate having security there all the time, but for a time I did have someone around patrolling a bit, it did help. Gave me some peace of mind, you know?”

“Yeah…well sorry if I…dampened the mood, I’m just still a little shaken up.” You explained.

“No, I get it.” He assured you with a smile, “Well the wine bar we’re going to is very low-key, so I don’t think anyone will bug us until we walk out to leave. Unless you’re in the mood for something else?” He asked you and you shook your head.

“The wine bar sounds really good right now.” You said to him and he smiled.

Your evening with Harry had been really fun. Not that you guys never had fun, but he was being extra sweet and attentive considering what had happened to you the night before. There were an assortment of board games available to play or you could choose to color and talk, but seeing as you weren’t too keen on any of the games you pulled out your trusty deck of cards from the depths of your purse. He found it extremely amusing that you just had that in your purse but went easy on the teasing.

You rotated playing a few games, you taught him how to play 21 and Speed and it was getting so competitive. Obviously, you were at an advantage considering you knew how to play the games already. He did alright at 21, but when you started to play speed your expertise shone. You were kicking his ass and eventually beat him enough times (four times) that he decided it was time to change games. He kicked your ass at Scrabble and Connect 4 for retribution, but by that point you’d had at least four glasses of wine and were pretty tipsy. He was too, he was all giggly and pink in the cheeks and the tip of his nose, almost as if he were freezing cold and not teeming with warmth. His voice had dropped a bit deeper and his eyes had a slight glassy sheen over them and they were a bit lidded. You were both far more touchy now, it started rather innocently though.

“You’re cheating.” You said to him as he laughed.

“How can you cheat at Scrabble!?” He asked through his laugh.

“You’re picking your tiles.”

“I am not!” He scoffed through a laugh.

“Let me pick one for you then.”

“Hell no.”

“I’m only getting consonants! I need to prove that something is up.”

“How is that possible?”

“It just is!” You said and he laughed.

“Only if I can pick your letter.”

“Okay, deal.” You agreed and you drew his next five tiles after he’d put down ‘reflex’ joint to your previous word, ‘car’.

“I got one consonant, a good one too.” He said as he arranged them on his rack.

“Of course you did…” you murmured as you looked over your options. You really only had consonants. “Okay…” you said as you grabbed the only three tiles that would work with what was on the board, “Eggs.” You said with a small smile as you tagged on the g-g-s to one of the e’s in ‘reflex’ and he burst into laughter.

“That’s all you have?! I don’t believe this.” He said.

“It is!” You laughed through your insistence.

“Let me see.” He said reaching for your rack of letters and you batted his hand away.

“Stop cheating!”

“I’m not! I’m trying to help you.” He chuckled as he grabbed your wrists in one hand to grab the rack and turn it towards him. When he saw your letters his smile dropped, “Mmmm, I see your predicament. And here I thought you just couldn’t spell…” He teased with a smirk and you arched your eyebrows up at his little joke.

“Ha-ha.” You mocked and he chuckled.

“Come here.” He said patting the spot beside him on the tabletop and you were tipsy enough that you didn’t question it. You dragged your stool over beside his and he sighed that you were too far and you squealed in surprise when he grabbed the edge and tugged you even closer to him as easily as if he had slid your empty glasses of wine out of the way. You knew he was strong, you’d seen it with your own eyes over the course of your professional relationship together. But with your growing feelings and the wine fogging up your brain you melted inside at this simple display of strength.

“Geez!” You gasped and he chuckled.

“Sorry.” He hummed with a smile before patting at your hip and looking back at the rack of letters he took from you. “Okay, so…you’re a bit fucked.” He said after scanning the rack some more.

“Well, you didn’t need to drag me over here to tell me that.” You giggled and he turned to you.

“Well, you’re here now, so win-win I’d say.” He flirted and you felt the blood rushing up to your face and making your cheeks and ears go hot.

You didn’t move from his side the rest of the time you were there. All games were forgotten, you were just fiddling with each other’s fingers under the table, your hand resting over his thigh, talking nonsense, and giggling as the alcohol got to the both of you. The way he was looking at you was making you feel like the only other person on the planet. You typically shied away from intense, undivided attention but he wasn’t ostentatious in the way he gave it. It was subtle and personal, it made you feel seen. After ordering one more glass you decided it was time to go, so Harry called your driver. You were getting hungry for some real food as you’d only been munching on the complementary bread they’d been bringing you guys.

“Bill’s here.” He informed you and you reached for your bag while Harry came around and helped you off of the high stool. You were wearing some heels because he was just so tall, but of course, your landing was a bit shaky and you both laughed as he grabbed around your waist. “You good?” He asked with a grin and you nodded up at him, “Sure?”

“M’sure. Just got a little wobbly there.” You giggled as you glanced up at him.

“Here.” He said extending his hand.

“It’s alright. I’m good.” You assured him.

“I’m sure you are, but we’re supposed to do the pictures for the paps, remember?” He said more quietly.

“Oh right, right…” you mumbled and it made you a bit sad as you handed your hand over. He took it and started guiding you though the bar to get out.

You could see people in the bar also taking videos of you guys walking out, calling all this attention to yourself like you were supposed to. But hey, at least you were holding his hand. When you guys got outside the flashes started going off and the paps were calling out to you both but you kept your eyes down at Harry’s shoes, you were a little too tipsy for this. Harry’s grip on you tightened as he pulled you to the car waiting right along the curb and then opened the door to help you in before sliding in behind you.

“God, didn’t think there’d be so many.” He said and you nodded as you buckled up.

“Heading home?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, please. And can you make a little detour on the way so we could get some food?”

“Certainly.”

“Okay, we’re still choosing we’ll pick something on route to her place.”

“Sounds good, just let me know.” He smiled and Harry thanked him before asking you again what you wanted.

You eventually settled on some dumpling place on the way and placed your order online so that it would be ready to pick up when you arrived. Thankfully, that all went to plan and soon you were being dropped off at your house. The lack of stimulation really perpetuated the tipsiness you were both feeling. You were laughing as you navigated your way to your kitchen in mostly the dark, guiding Harry through so that he wouldn’t get hurt.

“Here we are. Can’t wait to eat.” You said and he nodded in agreement. You guys split the food and then curled up on your couch to watch something on the TV while you ate and chatted. Harry started to sober up a lot faster than you which was great as he had to go home after this. You were trying to get on his level so you chugged your big glass of water and then dropped back onto the couch.

“You feeling alright?”

“Yeah, a bit better.” You said and he smiled.

“Good. Did you have fun?” He asked and you nodded.

“A lot of fun actually. Though to be fair, I think you pick fun things to do.” You said and he smiled.

“Oh good! I mean I think I’m quite boring.” He confessed.

“No…I don’t think you’re boring at all. I’m definitely more of a homebody so getting to do all these different things has actually been really great.” You assured him.

“Funny, I pegged you as more of an extrovert than me.” He said and you shook your head.

“Oh no, I’m definitely more introverted than anything.” You chuckled.

“You know, I have a lot of fun with you too. I’m glad it’s you I get to do this with.” He said as he glanced towards you and you smiled down at your lap.

“Yeah, me too.” You responded weakly, but he didn’t catch it, thankfully.

Truth be told, you were still tipsy and were having a hard time getting down to his level of sobriety. And with that came this avalanche of sincerity that could not be avoided or misdirected. In fact, the longer he stayed with you the more you felt the thread of your composure starting to fray. You were fighting against yourself and your need to get closer to him, you wanted to feel his warmth radiating onto you, you wanted the scent of his cologne to waft over you as you buried yourself into his side. You wanted to feel the rumble of his chest when he spoke lowly to you.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just…thinking.” You said through a tight lipped smile.

“About?”

“Just the film and how much fun I’m having. S’gonna be sad when it’s over.”

“Yeah, it will be. But you don’t have to think about it being over just yet.” He reminded. “We’ve still got a couple more months of filming and things…and this.” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You decided and suddenly stood up. “I need to go to the bathroom. Ummm, let me take all of this…” you said of your food containers.

“It’s alright, I’ve got this, you go on.” He assured you and with one more confirmation via a firm nod you headed off to the bathroom.

You just needed to splash some cold water on your face or something. Do anything to freshen up a little and get out of your head. So you did just that as soon as you’d relieved yourself. You grabbed one of the hand towels and soaked it with cold water and dabbed it all over your face. After a few moments you were heading back out and to the kitchen where Harry was just filling up the bag the dumplings had come in with you trash.

“Do you want the vinegar and and chili oil?” He asked, hearing your steps behind him.

“Ummm, just the chili oil. I repurpose it.” You said and he smiled and dropped in the two little sauce cups of black vinegar before tying it up. “You can just leave it, I have to take it out back.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright. Well, it’s nearing 1am, I should get going.” He said as he turned around and you nodded.

“Yeah. Ummm, are you good t-to drive?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, the food really sealed the deal.” He chuckled and you smiled.

“Positive? You can stand on one leg?” You asked jokingly and he did so. “Count down from 100 in intervals of 7?” You asked with a raised eyebrow and he scrunched his face down pensively.

“I can try…I didn’t finish high school so it might be a bit harder for me thank most.” He said with a small grin.

“Mmm…don’t think that’ll hold up in court.” You joked and he laughed and shook his head.

“You’re quite funny, you know?” He said and you smiled and shrugged.

“Triple threat.”

“I think that third is supposed to be the dancing bit actually.”

“Who cares about dancing? Would you rather a partner who can dance or who makes you laugh?”

“Mmm…Facts.” He smiled and you shrugged.

“No brainer.” You said and he nodded, “Okay, I’ll uh, I’ll walk you out.” You said and you guys made your way to your door.

“Genuinely, I’ve had an especially fun time with you tonight.” Harry said as you got into the foyer.

“Me too. I’ve never done something like that before.”

“Well, we could always do it again, maybe you’ll have better luck with Scrabble.” He smiled and you chuckled.

“Yeah, maybe.” You said, “Hey so ummm, in a few months the LA Opera is opening up Turandot.” You said and he looked at you quizzically, “I’m sure you know the most famous song, or at least heard it?”

“How does it go?”

“It’s the…Nessun dorma, nessun dorma. Tu pure o principessa, nella tua fredda stanza… you’ve heard it.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, I think I have.”

“Yeah, it’s this incredible Italian opera and I’ve always wanted to see it but none of my friends are really into that. Not that you are, but you said you like classical music, this is kind of a branch of of that…in a way and-”

“I’d love to go.” He said and you smiled.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. We could tally off another one of our appearances.” He said and you bit your lip as the pang of hurt radiated from your chest and out to the rest of your body. But you smiled and nodded.

“Y-yeah, exactly. Just get another one of those out of the way.” You responded, trying your best to ward off the growing knot that was lodged up in your throat. You really were just inviting him as a friend, not as part of your PR arrangement, so the sting of rejection remained.

“Cool, I’ll get the details from my team then.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, holding back the need to cry now. It hurt so bad, you hadn’t been in this position in a long while, the unrequited affections position. You really just struggled with dating so you hadn’t really spent a lot of time with someone you were into in a long time so everything was just intensified in a way, including the disappointment. You quickly opened up the door to get him out of there as soon as possible so that you could go cry it out for a bit. “Remember we don’t shoot tomorrow morning.” You reminded and he smiled.

“Positive?” He asked as he turned to you and you nodded.

“It’s an afternoon shoot tomorrow.”

“Okay, thank you. When’s call time?”

“For you it’s 3pm.” You said and he nodded.

“Okay…I really should start adding these to my calendar.”

“You should.” You concurred as he turned back to you with a smile.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He said and you nodded and he stepped closer and went in for a hug. You did hug sometimes, but you didn’t want to just now, but you gave in anyway, relaxing into his embrace as he squeezed around you just a bit. “Sleep well, alright?” He said softly as he started to pull back and you nodded but then he turned his head a bit and your noses bumped together.

“Sorry-”

“S’my fault.” He chuckled and then glanced down at your lips. “I ummm…” he trailed off and just grabbed your jaw gently and tilted it up and kissed you quickly on the lips. You didn’t even have time to react before he pulled away. “Shit.” He cursed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! Obviously, that was a mistake, I shouldn’t have done that.” He rambled as he let you go and took a step back.

“It’s alright, Harry.” You said and he shook his head.

“I didn’t even ask you and ummm…I don’t know, something just came over me and I wasn’t thinking. I didn��t mean t-to kiss you. Fuck…” he cursed at himself.

“Harry, I’m not upset. It’s fine.” You assured, trying to hint at the fact that you were very okay with this.

“It’s not fine, Y/N. It’s not.” He said firmly and you couldn’t help it as your eyes started to well up, “It was a mistake. I’m not like into- like it just happened, okay?” He said instead and you just nodded. He was backed up enough now that he couldn’t see your glassy eyes all that well anymore.

“I get it, Harry. Drive safe.” You rushed out and then hurried inside and closed your door before locking it and resting your forehead against it as a soft sob broke past your throat.

*****************

After the initial shock wore off Harry rushed up to your door again, about to knock and apologize again but just as his first raised up he heard the latch of the deadbolt and sighed in defeat. He rested his forehead against the thick door for just a moment before he walked to his car. He got in and then glanced up to see if he could spot you through a window or make out where in the house you were by the flick of a light, but it just stayed dark for a minute or so and he shook his head.

“Fuck…fuck me.” He grumbled before taking off.

Harry actually had no idea where that impulse to kiss you had come from. He did like you, he wouldn’t have agreed to anything more than the film if he didn’t. And he had also had so much fun working with you so far, it was just so easy and such a good vibe that he often forgot that it was “work”. Like tonight, after having a few glasses of wine he was feeling rather touchy and vulnerable, like he usually did when he drank, and it was so nice to feel that relaxed around you. He felt comfortable and it really was just one of those impulsive thoughts that he had. He had thought about kissing you before, you would for the film. But lately it was on his mind a lot more because those scenes would start filming soon. Maybe even in the upcoming week.

Harry wanted to call Tommy or Jeffrey and tell them what he did but he kew he’d get an earful and he didn’t want that right now. He just needed a little sympathy and possibly another drink. So he called one his more discrete friends as she also lived in Beverly Hills, just about 10 minutes away from you. And they sat out by the fire pit as they sipped on a cocktail. He was petting at her dog’s back while he shared what he’d done and how anxious he was feeling about having to face you at work now. He told her about the PR stunt and how he felt like he’d majorly crossed a line. And when she asked him why he was beating himself over this so much he wasn’t sure what to say. And she helped talk him down and reminded him that if you had said it was OK and you weren’t angry that this was entirely about him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re making it bigger than it is. I mean…do you like her?”

“Of course I like her. We get along really well and-”

“You know what I mean, H.” She said with a knowing smile and he licked over his lips.

“Yeah, I guess I do a bit. Like starting too but I can’t you know? Last time I got involved with a co-worker it didn’t turn out so great for her. People were cruel.” He said.

“Well this isn’t last time. But I mean, if that’s now a boundary that you really don’t want to test ever again then do what’s going to make you feel better. But I mean, attraction and feelings are sort of out of our hands, you know?” She said with a smile, “And burying those too deep also isn’t good for you.”

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“Did she kiss back?”

“No.” He said quietly and she hummed, “I mean, it was fast…maybe she would have…I’m glad I didn’t stick around to find out though.” He admitted.

“So…I think you know how you want to proceed then.” She said and he sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, I guess…I guess I do.”

He ended up staying the night there as neither of them had anything in the morning. But he headed home after one final pep talk from her, he needed to mentally prepare for seeing you again. He was an absolute wreck over it, his stomach was turning anxiously when he arrived before his call time just to talk to you, you were likely already there in hair and makeup. There was a dinner party scene you guys were filming, it was the scene where his character began to see yours in a different light. Very appropriate.

“Hey Harry.” One of staffers greeted him as he breezed by.

“Hello!” He waved and then pushed up his glasses further not he bridge of his nose. He hurried over to the hair/makeup trailer. He knocked and heard a cheerful “come in!” From the artist Veronica. Harry stepped inside and as soon as your eyes met through the mirror you looked away quickly and then his eyes met Veronica’s.

“Hey H! I wasn’t expecting you yet!” She said with a smile.

“Just wanted to drop by a bit earlier.” He said and she nodded.

“Well feel free to sit, I’m almost done with Y/n. I’m ahead of schedule.”

“Thanks, ummm, I actually needed a word w-with Y/n.” He said to her, “If I can?” He asked and then glanced to you, to see if that was alright with you. You held his gaze for a second before you nodded.

“It’ll just be a moment, V.” You said to her.

“Maybe like 5-10 minutes.” He said to you and your inhale literally stopped. Your stomach fluttered violently, your heart pounded hard, and your mouth slightly dried.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll go get a drink. Do you guys want anything from the cafe?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”, “No thank you.” You and Harry responded and she smiled and gave him a pat on the arm as she walked past him and out of the trailer. Harry approached and sat in the seat adjacent to yours. You turned to him and he looked sad, defeated.

“Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry.” He apologized again and your eyes flickered down to your lap and you shook your head with a small smile.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Harry.” You assured him, “I’m not mad. Quite frankly I’m relieved because…because I…I uh-”

“Please, don’t.” He interrupted and your eyes fluttered up to his as the lump in your throat grew, “I know you what you’re about to say. Please don’t say it.” He implored and you bit down on your lip to hold back from frowning. “It doesn’t work. It won’t.” He said with certainty, “I’ve been there…I’ve fallen in love with a really wonderful person who was working along side me and it messed her up.” He said with a frown. “I can’t do that to anyone ever again.” He explained.

“I get it.” You whispered.

“Believe me, it’s hard. I think we work well together, don’t we. We mesh!”

“Really nicely.” You agreed.

“Yeah.” He confirmed, “So let’s-lets just do what we need to do and call it a day.”

“Okay.” You nodded your head robotically. You just shut down all your feelings because you couldn’t show him how deep in it you were by now. If you could save yourself from anything, at least the embarrassment.

“Does this change anything for you in terms of like the dates-er appearances w-we have to do?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No. Don’t want to make a fuss. Fred is kind of a nag, don’t want him harping and teasing me about it until something more embarrassing or astonishing makes him forget it.” You said.

“Yeah, they can give you a hard time…” he said and you nodded.

“Well uh- actually there is one thing.” You said and he nodded, “T-the opera thing ummm, let’s not do that.” You said and he frowned a bit, “It’s just that when I asked I ummm…I wasn’t asking you to go as an idea for the appearances. This kind of means a lot to me and I was actually asking you to come with me as a friend.” You clarified, “I’d want to go with well…someone who-”

“I get it.” He said with a small smile.

“Thank you.” You nodded.

“Well that’s it I guess.”

“Yeah.” You whispered and he stood and left quite awkwardly.

Once again, he was kicking himself over what he’d just done but it was for the best. He needed to put an end to this before he let himself like you a little too much and it ruined everything. Or worse, he gave in and you guys tried for a bit before things inevitably went to shit because of how awful the public were to you until they wore you down…better safe than sorry. He needed to stop this before it was too late.

***************

You were definitely hurt but you understood where Harry was coming from. And maybe he was right, it was just a bad idea to get involved more than professionally. Admittedly, if you had been in the place of his last girlfriend there was no way you could’ve been as poised as she was through all of it. Through all of the rumors, all of the hate, all of the lies, all of the tasteless jokes… you were confident in yourself but not to that extent, surely you’d have a public breakdown at some point with all of that pressure.

But as the days went by you realized that you’d soon be filming the more intimate parts of this film. Normally, films didn’t film chronologically but this one did. The director really wanted to capture the natural growing closeness between you and Harry as filming progressed. Truth be told, you were acting your asses off and everyone on the set was buying it even though the bond between you two had broken down. Even your dates were different; you guys weren’t talking as much as before or learning more and more details about each other like before. Now you mostly talked about work to him or your plans after filming but nothing too personal.

You were still nervous for the intimate scenes though, that’s what you would be doing today, the first intimate scene. You would surely do something to give away just how real your yearning was for him. Your actions couldn’t lie. Especially after you hadn’t been able to kiss back when he’d kissed you a few weeks before.

“Nervous?” Veronica asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, a bit.” You confessed.

“Don’t be. Just work with the natural tension and attraction the two of you already have going on and it’ll be perfect.”

“What do you mean?”

“Girl, you’re really gonna make me say it?” She said with a tsk.

“There’s nothing else going on.” You said and she gave you a disbelieving look.

“What was that a couple weeks ago with the “ten minute talk” he needed to have with you?” She asked you.

“It genuinely was a talk. We had a misunderstanding and I was a little upset at him.” You explained and her gaze softened from teasing and playful to sorry for assuming.

“Oh…I could’ve sworn that you guys-”

“No. No. I mean…I…I like him. Like that.” You said a bit shamefully and she pouted and sat down in the seat beside yours and nodded as she listened, “It’s kind of impossible not to when we spend so much time together and have gotten to know each other the way we have. Like god, it’s so amateur of me…” you shook your head and she sighed.

“Hey, no. Look at me, hon. Attraction is natural, you can’t help how you feel or how your brain responds to something! And quite frankly I think he…likes you too.” She said and you smiled sadly and shook your head.

“He doesn’t, that’s what he said that day. That he didn’t want to blur the lines and like…it’s been so weird since. So dry and robotic…ugh, I hate it so much. I don’t know how I can do this for another eight weeks.” You sighed.

“Well after you have to kiss all day just…act cool. It’s whatever, yeah? I’ve kissed tons of people and not all of it has to mean something, you know?”

“Yeah… I hope I can.”

“You can. You can do it. And i-if you need to talk about it or just be sad about it after you can talk to me. I won’t say a thing. Promise.” She assured you.

“Thank you.” You said to Veronica and she smiled and nodded.

“Of course, hon.” she assured and this made you feel better. You could certainly get through the next weeks of filming if you had someone to talk to about this.

…. 8 WEEKS LATER ….

The lighting was dim as you approached the front door, the heavy and constant knocks on the door made you hasten your step. You finally opened the door to see Harry drenched from head to toe, clothes clinging to his skin as his eyes met yours.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, your features creased in confusion as he stepped froward and you stepped back into the entrance.

“I needed to see you.” He said as he swung the front door back and it closed with a heavy thud.

“You just saw me-”

“I didn’t like seeing you with him.” He said coming closer and you sighed.

“Listen-”

“He’s not nearly good enough for you.” He said to you firmly and you scoffed.

“As much as I valued your opinion before, I don’t really care for it right now and I didn’t ask.” You responded.

“You didn’t need to. I know you.” He said as he reached for you and you increased the distance between the two of you.

“No you don’t. Not anymore.” You shook your head as your eyes started to well up.

“Don’t say that.” He frowned, the hurt evident on his face, “You’re my best friend. I know you.” He insisted again and you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“We haven’t spoken since…” you trailed off and swallowed thickly.

“Since I let you walk away.” He finished your thought for you and you nodded. “I was scared.” He admitted.

“You weren’t scared with April or Sarah.” You said and he sighed.

“They weren’t you. There was more to lose with you.” He explained and you shook your head.

“That’s a miserable excuse. You always do this!” You groaned with frustration, “You see that I’ve moved on, that I’m happy and then you come to me and make me believe you-”

“I know you’re not happy.” He interrupted.

“I’m happier than when I’m playing this stupid game with you!” You raised your voice, your breathing shallow as you expressed your frustration and he frowned. “You say you love me and fuck me and then say we can’t be together!”

“Can’t you see how that proves how much I love you?” He asked sincerely, his eyes meeting yours and you glanced away and shook your head, “I’ve loved you this whole time but I can’t risk losing my best friend.” He said and you sniffled as your tears started to fall.

“You don’t love me.” You rejected his claim, “You love who I’ve been for you. Always available, desperate for you to realize that I’ve been here the whole time, but I’m not that person anymore. I don’t need you any more.” You said and he frowned, “You don’t know what’s it been like…” you said to him with a sad smile, “Being here. Waiting. Watching you choose someone else over and over again and when it fails you come running back to me. But I’ve realized that if I wasn’t good enough to be your first or second choice, surely I’m not enough for you now. And I never will be.” You said to him, your voice cracked a bit.

“You are enough. You’re more than! I just wasn’t good enough for you. I didn’t want to hurt you and lose you.” He explained reaching for your hands and you pulled them out of his grip.

“Well, you hurt me any way. And you lost me anyway. And now that you know you’ve lost me you hate to see it. Well good.” You seethed and he frowned.

“Baby-”

“Don’t. Don’t start with that.” You warned with a frown, “I don’t believe you anymore. I gave my heart over to you every time, like an idiot, thinking that I’d be safe with you and every single time you’ve disappointed me! Well, not anymore.” You said and he reached for you again. “Please leave.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me that you love me too.” He pressed and you scoffed.

“You need to move on!” You laughed incredulously.

“I can’t! Believe me, I’ve tried!” He raised his voice, his breathing hard, “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you and that I’ve disappointed you but I’m not afraid anymore.” He said reaching for your hands once more and this time you let him take them, “I’m not afraid of the love we have for each other. I will do anything I can to prove to you that it’ll be different this time. That I won’t disappoint you ever again.” He said earnestly, “Please.” He begged and you swallowed thickly. “I need you like I need air! Being away from you has been torture. And seeing you with someone else has been worse than torture.” He said grabbing your jaw and angling you up gently. His thumb wiped your tears away carefully and you closed your eyes, “Nuh-uh, look at me.” He insisted and your eyes blinked open and met his again. “Say it. Say that you love me, baby. I need to hear you say it.” He practically begged as he leaned in closer.

“I love you.” You whispered and he quickly closed the gap between you.

His warm, plump lips met your own hungrily. The soft wet sounds of your kisses and shallow breaths were the only noises in the background, everything was perfectly still otherwise and it really felt like you two were the only people in the world in this moment. You were so close his sopping clothes were transferring the wetness to your own top and his strong hands were holding you low on your hips now, you could feel the cold of them through the thin sleep shorts you were in. “I love you, I do.” You mumbled against his lips and then pulled back and he chased after you but you turned your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut as he kissed the corner of your mouth and up your jaw, “But I love me more.” You said as you pushed him back and he loosened his grip on you as he pulled back to look at you, his disappointment evident in his gaze, his eyes searching yours. “I’m more than a last resort.” You said and he frowned, “I always chose you and you never chose me, so I’m choosing myself over you this time.” You said and he looked at you with disappointment.

“Cara-”

“You’re going to be okay.” You assured him and he shook his head.

“What a silly thing to say.” He whispered with doubt, a sad smile on his lips.

“If I am after everything, you will be too.” You assured him with a half smile and he let you go.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized quite pitifully and you nodded.

“I know.” You said once more and he rolled his lips together and nodded before silently turning around and heading out the door. You walked over and turned the lock and then turned around and let out a long exhale and then your lips turned up in a small, but sincere smile as you glanced up to the ceiling and made direct eye contact with the camera peering down at you.

“CUT!” The director shouted and you exhaled and your smile widened, “And that’s a wrap!” She shouted and everyone broke out in a cheer. She rushed over and hugged you tight, praising you for how excellent this final scene was. Harry came over as well and got his own hug from her, thanking him for his delivery and congratulating him on a job well done. You also gave him a brief hug before greeting others from the cast.

All the raw emotions of the project being completed really helped you guys along this final scene. It had been one of those magical moments where the first take went perfectly. You guys ran through the entire dialogue and it worked exactly as everyone had envisioned it. Truly, you hardly even noticed the cameras around you guys. The film would be released on Prime in three short months, which was when your contractual obligation to each other would end. Your appearances together were going to be far more “private” now that filming was about to wrap. Sure, you’d be seen out at places together, but it was supposed to start to slow down. You had prepared what you would say when someone inevitably asked you what was going on between you two during the promo tour and press junkets. That you guys got really close to the characters and also each other during filming and just let these bleed together while filming and that obviously, it had started to cool down since you weren’t seeing each other every single day for 10 to 11 of the 24 hours the day had.

“We did it.” Harry said as he came up to you as you guys got ready to go and you nodded.

“Yeah. It’s crazy that it’s already done.” You chuckled, still a little bit in shock and he nodded.

“Right…well I did have fun filming with you.”

“Same.” You said with a small smile and he nodded.

“Are you going to the cast dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course, I’m in the cast…” You said through a chuckle.

“Duh…” he said nervously as he looked down at his feet in a bit of embarrassment.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed and turned to get into your car and just offered one final wave before you took off.

You glanced back to see him still standing there, watching you go. You were glad your windows were tinted so that he couldn’t see you staring back, but you just weren’t sure what to feel. As much as you were into him, you were dreading the rest of your time “together”. Clearly to him this was just like any other task he had for work, maybe he was used to this but you weren’t. You’d never done anything like this before and you kind of expected him to be a little more understanding and not so harsh and cold about it like he had been with you.

…. TWO MONTHS LATER ….

Harry wasn’t that clueless, he noticed the shift in your interactions with him after filming ended. Almost as if you were relieved that you wouldn’t have to see each other every single day for hours and hours at a time. He knew that you liked him and he wished he had handled that differently because clearly the way he went about it hurt your feelings to the extent that you’d gone completely cold on him.

When you’d go out and he’d grab your hand it was dead weight in his grip. When he’d drape his arm around your shoulder he could feel the tension in them. And when you’d exchange “loving glances” your smile didn’t light up your eyes like before. Maybe it was just what you needed to do to get through the last month of this stunt but it was just going bad now. He wanted to apologize but he had no idea what he even needed to apologize for because he wasn’t sorry about the conversation he’d had with you.

You guys needed to tighten things up at the personal level, clearly he got far too comfortable with you fast and it scared him. He didn’t want to get hurt again and he didn’t want to hurt you either. He’d done this to protect you both from getting far more involved than necessary and now he felt like even the potential friendship he could have with you was crumbling before him which was really unfortunate.

He was feeling bummed out as he drove past your tall, wooden gate and up the long driveway to your house. He saw another car there but didn’t really mind it as he parked somewhere out of its way. He was getting out of his car when the front door opened and out rushed some guy who definitely looked familiar, probably some other industry guy. His hair was wet and he looked a bit surprised to see Harry there, so he rushed to his car.

“Hey!” He called after him and hurried towards him.

“Look man, she said you guys aren’t dating and-”

“Wait, she slept with you?” Harry asked with a small frown.

“So you are dating?” He asked and Harry shook his head ‘no’, “Thank, fuck. Then, yes, we did.” He said and Harry nodded and swallowed thickly.

“Is she- can I go in?”

“Yeah, she’s just finishing up her shower.” He said and Harry nodded.

“Thanks, mate.” He mumbled before heading towards the door.

With every step he took the anger rose and rose further and further. You were being reckless, putting everything in jeopardy all to what? Get back at him for not liking you back? He was waiting in the kitchen, but when he heard you singing along to whatever was playing on your phone as you made your way down he hurried out to meet you. When he rounded the corner and saw you coming down the final step you gasped in surprise.

“Oh my god, Harry!” You scolded with a hand over your chest as you put your music on pause. He didn’t answer so you walked past him, “You’re here a lot early.” You said to him playfully as he followed you wordlessly. He was just so fuming mad after seeing a faint hickey right beneath your jaw, “Hello?” You questioned him until his frustrated gaze met yours.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He questioned you.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I saw him leaving. That guy.” He came right out and said it.

“Look, it was a spur of the moment thing, we were just having dinner and one thing led to another and-”

“You fucked him.” He said and you sighed. “How could you do that?” He asked you in disbelief.

“What do you mean? It’s not like we’re actually together.” You scoffed and he frowned but then let the anger overcome him once more.

“Exactly! We’re not together and if anyone sees some stupid dweeb leaving your house then all of this is going to be for nothing!” He rationalized.

“Oh my god, no one’s gonna see anything, Harry…”

“They might see that fucking hickey on your neck!” He argued, “How clueless can you be?!” He was berating you now, his voice raised and his expression creased in a scowl and you frowned.

“I didn’t think about that. I mean, I-I can cover it. If not, they’ll just think it was you.” You said more quietly.

“No one would ever believe that was me. I have never left visible marks on anyone I’ve been with. My fans will never buy it.” He said pointedly. “You can’t do shit with other people while we are contractually obligated to each other. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, Y/N!”

“Well, there is no clause about that! And I was careful!”

“Not careful enough! I can’t believe you would do something so stupid and all for what? To get back at me?” He scoffed with an accusatory tone and now it was your turn to scoff incredulously.

“Oh, don’t fucking flatter yourself, Harry!” You laughed mawkishly as you rolled your eyes up in disbelief.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t do this on purpose to piss me off.”

“Why would I want to piss you off if I have to spend a whole fucking day with you?” You asked him and well, he had no idea. “He likes me and he wanted to have dinner with me. I said I couldn’t do that out in public so I offered for him to come over instead.”

“He doesn’t like you, he just wanted to fuck you.” Harry said with a sarcastic smile.

“Well good for him then! He did!”

“You’re being childish.”

“I’m being childish? You’re the one waltzing in here over an hour early, might I add, yelling at me because I hooked up with someone in the privacy of my home when we’re not even a thing!”

“I already told you why I’m angry at you over this.”

“Well I already told you that I was careful! This is my first time doing something like this and I made a bad judgment call. I genuinely didn’t think it would be a problem.” You said and he shook his head.

“You knew it would be. You did it to get back at me for…never mind.” He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“For what? Finish the sentence, Harry.” You demanded.

“You know why.” He said lowly and you arched your eyebrows up.

“I don’t. Enlighten me, please.” You insisted.

“Because of what I said to you before about us. I hurt your feelings and-”

“Yeah, you were kind of a prick about it but I’m not offended. You were right about that and I think I’ve done enough to manage what I used to feel for you-”

“Used to feel? The wave of hostility you’ve unleashed upon me after I rejected you says otherwise. And I think you’re just acting out because you can’t get a handle on your feelings. You’re being impulsive and it’s going to throw a wrench in things!”

“I’m being impulsive? Who kissed who, Harry? I’m forgetting…” You said sarcastically and he glanced to the ground.

“That was a mistake.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that abundantly clear over and over again, thanks.” You said with irritation. “And I’m not being hostile. I’m doing what I need to do until we just get this stupid thing over with!” You said to him, completely exasperated, “I’ve never done this before, OK? I didn’t expect t-to like you like I do-er did.” You corrected yourself with a shake of your head, “I’m sure it was weird for you the first time you did it.” You said and his jaw clenched up because you were right.

His first PR stunt fucked him up for a while…he was still a teenager, frontal lobe smooth as butter. But he let himself fall and he thought she was too and well, to this day he was still a hot topic amongst her projects. It did bother him a little bit at first, he reckoned it’d bother anyone but he didn’t give it the satisfaction of a negative response ever. He changed the narrative, called it a compliment even though he had no idea where the fuck he was going with that at the moment. He never said a bad thing even through his music even though he’d been painted as the “bad guy” who was a player and couldn’t commit over and over again. He’d hoped it would work out but to anyone outside of it, it was kind of obvious that it wouldn’t go anywhere. After all, what could a 23 year old want with a 18 year old in any serious manner? The point being, that these PR stunts and crossing professional lines always left one or both people hurting if they weren’t overly cautious, which is why he had said what he had said to you.

But now he was jealous, gut wrenchingly jealous when he shouldn’t be. You had made a mistake but you had been cautious to not endanger what you guys had signed on for. He was being far too harsh with you and sensitive about this and he needed to reel it back in. You were waiting for him to say something, anything…

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was a stupid mistake.” He said again and you swallowed thickly.

“Yeah, I get it.” You responded lowly.

“Do you?” He asked. He was patronizing you and you glanced up to the ceiling and shook your head.

“Harry, honestly, I don’t need this. Please leave.” You said to him and he frowned.

“But we-”

“I don’t want to be with you for the whole fucking day and pretend that I like you.” You said and he felt his heart shrivel up.

“We have an obligation to do an appearance-”

“Well I’ll see you around dinner time then because I don’t want to be around you right now.” You said to him and he bit on the inside of his cheek to distract from the hurt in his heart.

“Yeah, alright.” He said lowly and turned around to leave.

“Congrats by the way.” You said to him and he sighed and looked back at you quizzically, “You got what you wanted this whole time, I don’t think I like you anymore.” You said to him callously and he suddenly wanted to throw up so he just hurried out of there and sat in his car in utter silence for a few minutes before taking off.

You guys did meet over dinner and he apologized for how he’d handled the whole situation earlier that day. You'd cooled off enough as well and apologized for not considering what he had mentioned and assured him that you wouldn’t do it again while you were contractually obligated to each other. He was hoping to hear you say that you didn’t mean what you’d said about not liking him anymore, but he never got the satisfaction. He was certain you’d spoken purely out of anger with him, especially after he’d been such a dick about it, but maybe you just needed to tell yourself that to really not let your feelings grow anymore than they had or even to just not have some illusion that he was jealous. Which he was, but he’d never admit that to you or anyone else, he hardly admitted it to himself. But by the end of the night you were both very cordial with each other and able to hug before heading your own ways.

…. FOUR MONTHS LATER ….

The film had been a success to say the least. It was getting decent reviews and your press for it had been good. After you and Harry had put aside your problems after your fight things got monumentally better. There were tons of questions about whether you guys were dating or not and you both explained your attraction and dedication to your roles expertly, leaving a hint of mystery behind every time this came up, in very Harry-esque nature. But each night before you went to bed in whatever city you were for the night you thought of Harry, how could you not?

Of course you still liked him, even now, after months of not seeing each other your heart went all soft and gooey at the thought of him. Yeah, you had said that you didn’t like him anymore hoping to get a reaction out of him when you fought. You knew that he was jealous that day and you wanted him to just admit it, you wanted to get a rise out of him and hope he spoke up but in his true obstinate nature, he never did. You wondered what would’ve happened if he had admitted it. Where would you be now? Probably on a vacation somewhere really getting to know the parts of each other that you’d left guarded, which admittedly weren’t many.

“Earth to Y/N…” your friend said, snapping you out of your thoughts and you chuckled in slight embarrassment.

“Sorry, what?” You asked.

“I asked if you and Harry still talk.” She repeated her question.

“Oh right…ummm, n-not really. It’s not like we’re close friends, we just worked together. We just had to be super chummy during the press tours and stuff. Like it was a really superficial friendship I’d say.” You fibbed and she sighed.

“So no free shows for us…” She mumbled and you smiled a bit and shrugged apologetically, “You had one job.” She joked and you giggled before getting back to eat and everyone else started talking again.

In reality, you and Harry had gotten close after spending so much time together. You’d shared a lot of things with him and vise versa. He had been a little more hesitant to take it there but after a good month or so of constantly being around each other and “seeing each other” he started to open up about more real and deep things. Things like how much he worried about his mom, how she deserved to be happy and have a full life full of love. How he was worried that he’d never be able to really stop making music and touring at the level he did now and it would affect his ability to marry and have his own family. How he wished there was a way to know that you were doing the right thing or going down the best path and you guys talked about that a lot. About what “the right thing” was. About what it meant to be happy and fulfilled. What was most important to him now and could he afford to keep pushing the rest of his life back to relish where he was now.

You were an over thinker, much like him, and you guys talked about how nice it was when you didn’t worry so much and just lived day to day, focusing on that day’s challenges and blessings. It was nice, you felt comfortable around him and safe, looked after. He was good at making people feel seen and special and with all of that it was hard not to start to fall for him. You missed him a lot. You wanted to text him or call him sometimes just to see how he was doing, what he was up to, if by any chance he missed you too…When you had that thought you smiled to yourself a bit and talked yourself out of it. Of course he didn’t miss you, he was probably glad you were gone, something less for him to deal with and worry about.

****************

Harry’s POV

Harry had been lying in bed for a good hour already, drifting in and out of sleep. He canceled his work out and his morning swim, he didn’t have the energy to go to that right now. And that’s how he knew that he was in a bad way, when even those simple pleasures weren’t even a little appealing to him. In all honesty, he’d been feeling like this for a few weeks now and it all started when he was at dinner with some friends and one of your songs came over the speakers at the restaurant. At first it felt good to hear your voice, it made him feel happy and warm inside, but when he was at home later that night and all alone in his bed he started to miss you. And he felt so awful.

He felt awful about how he’d handled his attraction towards you. He hated how afraid he was of doing what his heart asked him to. He missed going on “dates” with you. He missed the conversations you guys had, he missed seeing the sincere care in your eyes when he shared things or opened up about topics he felt nervous about. He was never judged by you, in fact he felt accepted with you. He looked forward to the time you’d spend together off the set for a reason, it was because he liked you. A lot. And now he felt foolish for being too scared to admit it when he had the chance. He was sad when he came to the realization that you’d probably moved on and closed off your heart to him after how he behaved.

Regardless, he wanted to see you or at the very least to hear your voice. He at least needed to reach out and let you know that he was thinking of you. He did have a trip to LA in a few weeks and he decided that he’d reach out and see if you wanted to hang out for a bit, he only had two days of work things to take care of but he could add a few more days to his travel plans if it meant making things right with you.

…. A FEW WEEKS LATER ….

You were genuinely shocked when Harry’s name lit up your phone screen one breezy afternoon. It was past midnight his time so you had a mind to just ignore it, he was probably drunk or something…but then you remembered how sweet and giggly he was when he’d had a little much to drink, so you swiped at your screen and brought your phone up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” He sounded relieved. Relieved that you had answered?

“Ummm…are you drunk?” You asked immediately and he huffed out a little chuckle.

“No…why would I be drunk at this hour?” He asked and you furrowed your eyebrows a little bit in confusion.

“Well you’re calling me past midnight your time so I just assumed. Unless something is wrong? Are you okay?” You asked next.

“Yeah, I’m fine. And I’m actually on your time. And while I enjoy day drinking as much as the next person I can assure you I am not drunk. I just ummm…I wanted to see if you had any free time in the next couple days or so? Maybe we could see each other?” He suggested hopefully and you felt your stomach sink.

The less mature part of you wanted to be a smart ass with him, tell him you didn’t need to hang out as your contract was long over. But you did miss him and as much as his invitation raised up some of your past irritations with him it wasn’t worth being a bitch to him over, especially after all of that time. Maybe this was him extending an olive branch? Maybe you guys could be proper friends now that your working relationship was over.

“Ummm, yeah. I actually don’t have any plans at all the next few days.” You explained.

“And work?”

“I’m not doing anything right now just relishing in the big bucks from our hit rom-com.” You said with a dry sarcasm and he chuckled.

“God, already letting all that fame get to your head, are you?” He teased and you giggled.

“Yeah, I’m changed.” You responded and he laughed. “Well, what did you have in mind?” You asked.

“Dinner? I’m renting this really beautiful place up in the hills and it has the most impeccable views, you’d love it. There’s a hot tub and a pool and a piano, we could just hang out here for a while? Or if you prefer to do something in town somewhere we could do that too.”

“Well I do want to see this house you’re staying at but ummm, I don’t want to impose or anything and-”

“I’m inviting you over, you’re not imposing in any way, love.” He assured.

“Alright then. Well when do you prefer I come over?”

“Do you want to do tomorrow? Say around 3 or 4?” He asked and you bit on your lip, “We could talk, swim, share music because I’m certain you’ve been writing.” He said knowingly and you smiled.

“Yeah, that’s good. I’ll show up sometime between 3 and 4, gotta keep you on your toes, you know?”

“Yeah.” He hummed, “So bring your swim suit, or don’t I mean, either way you can expect to get in the water…” he said suggestively and you chuckled.

“Should I bring anything else?”

“No just yourself.” He said and you nodded, “We can plan dinner once you’re here.”

“Alright, sounds good. See ya’.”

“See you soon.” He replied and then you quickly hung up.

You set your phone down on your lap and just let your face contort in confusion. What was that all about? You guys weren’t even friends… sure, things were this easy with him all the time but you couldn’t help but question his motives. Maybe he still felt guilty for how things transpired between the two of you and he just needed to do this to confirm that you weren’t upset at him. You grabbed your phone and called him back, he picked up right away.

“Hello?”

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

“Wait, what?” He questioned you and you sighed.

“What do you want from me by asking me over to hang out or whatever?” You asked more clearly and Harry frowned upon hearing you asking this.

“Ummm, I didn’t…mean anything by it, it’s just hanging out.” He said and you sighed.

“Right, but we’re not friends.” You said and his heart lurched in his chest, “Now that we aren’t working together we can be or what?” You asked for clarity.

“I mean, yes, i-if you want that?” He said with a questioning tone.

“Okay…” you said and trailed off.

“Is there something wrong with that?” He asked and you weren’t sure how to answer that.

“I just ummm…I don’t know if I can trust that you won’t get all…weird.” You said to him.

“That’s valid.”

“I mean we were friends before. Or at least I considered us t-to have a friendship to some extent and then you just…took that away.” You explained and he nodded with a frown as he heard you out.

“I think we were friends too.” He agreed, “I just have a hard time letting people in.”

“And now you don’t?” You asked.

“No, I certainly do but I…” he sighed and licked over his lips as he plopped down on the couch as he stared at the ceiling as he decided to just admit it, “I miss you.” He confessed and you bit your lip upon hearing his words. You hoped it would stop the butterflies that were starting to flutter about in your tummy but it wasn’t doing much. “Honestly Y/N, I don’t think I handled the relationship between us the right way and-”

“Can I come over right now?” You interrupted him.

“Ummm, y-yes. Sure.” He said nervously.

“I just think we ought to have this conversation in person.” You explained and he smiled a bit. God, you had to make it harder for him, didn’t you?

“You’re right.” He conceded. “I’ll send you the address right now.”

“Should I still bring a swim suit?” You asked, he could heard the smirk on your face and he chuckled. Your smiled widened at your successful attempt to lighten the mood.

“We can talk things out in the hot tub.” He joked.

“I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Yeah, drive safe.” He said and you thanked him and hung up again.

You headed up to your room and grabbed a bathing suit, a simple, paisley print, two-piece and dropped it into your tote and then took off. You were nervous, not so much about what he would say but at the prospect of you leaving with any sense of false hope. Yeah, he missed you, but that didn’t really mean anything but that. You couldn’t or shouldn’t read into that in any way. When you were all in your head like this time just escaped you and soon enough you were pulling up to the gate and putting in the code he had texted you before you started heading up the driveway. You only waited a few moments at the door after ringing the doorbell before he opened it up.

“Hi.” He said softly with a smile on his face and you smiled back.

“Hey.” You responded, you just looked at each other for a few moments before he chuckled and moved out of the way.

“Oh, come in. Please.” He said and allowed you to step inside. You looked around as he locked up. The home was very modern, an open concept type of thing and it had one of those sunken living rooms that were making a come back.

“This is cool.” You complimented.

“Yeah, I like it a lot.” He said as he came up beside you and looked out at the space. “Ummm, can I get you something to drink? Or a snack if you’re hungry? I have…watermelon.” He said and you smiled.

“No thanks, I’m alright.” You assured him and he nodded and just looked over you for a few more moments. It made you feel all tingly so you cleared your throat and he looked down at the ground.

“Ummm so let’s just…we can sit over here and talk.” He said signaling towards the living room and you nodded and followed him down the small set of steps leading down to the couches. “Feel free to get comfy wherever.”

“Thanks.” You said as you headed towards one of the corners of the large sectional and slipped off your shoes before you nestled in, legs criss-crossed over each other as you pulled a pillow into your lap. Harry settled in near you, one of his legs tucked under him and the other hanging off of the couch. He looked a bit pensive, not entirely sure how or where to start and you were getting a little impatient.

“So you…missed me.” You said simply and he glanced into you eyes and nodded.

“Yeah, I have been for…a while.” He confirmed and you sighed.

“I have too…a little bit.” You admitted as you looked down into your lap and he smiled.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, we did spend a lot of time together so…”

“Yeah, true.” You sighed.

“So ummm, what I was saying before…” he started and you nodded, “I didn’t go about things the right way with you. I could’ve been…”

“Less of a dick?” You interjected and he smiled down at his lap, when he looked up at you, you were already smiling.

“I was going to say nicer about it but same thing, I guess.” He chuckled and you did as well. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot and while my reasons for it were really valid, I think, it doesn’t mean that I handled it well and I…regret hurting your feelings. I’m sorry.” He said and you hummed.

“Thank you. I just…was -er still am a bit confused about that because, I mean, I told you that I’d never done something like this before and I don’t know…I guess I was just expecting you to be a little bit more understanding or even just compassionate with me about the whole thing, you know?” You explained and he nodded.

“I wish I had been. I really do.” He said with a small frown. “I can explain actually.” He said and you nodded, “And this is not an excuse at all, it’s just that, an explanation.” He added and you nodded again, “When I kissed you I…I realized how much I was starting to like you and it scared me.” He explained, “And it took me back to what I’d been through before and I didn’t want that again, not for me, but especially not for you.” He explained, “So I decided that I wasn’t going to allow my feelings for you to grow any more or go any further than that.” He said and your gaze on him softened, “And well, i-it worked well enough for a bit. It was easier when we were working to remind myself that it was for the best. And then we fought and you told me you didn’t like me anymore and I felt like shit but I was also glad because you deserved better than that.” He said with a frown. “But when we went our own ways it got worse…not worse, you know what I mean.” He said nervously, “I just thought about you all the time- er I have been thinking about you this whole time. Just wondering i-if you think about me too sometimes…I mean, I know that you don’t feel that way about me any more but-”

“I do.” You cut in and he looked surprised.

“After all of that?” He asked softly and you nodded.

“You more than made up for it on the press tour.” You assured him, “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or upset you so I buried it all but I still like you. I mean, how could I not?” You chuckled and he smiled at you. “And I’m sorry for the way I said I didn’t, I wanted to make you upset.” You explained.

“Well it worked.” He chuckled and you smiled sadly. “I kind of deserved it though.” He said, “You didn’t ummm…see that guy again did you?” He asked and you smiled.

“I didn’t.” You confirmed and he smiled down at his lap.

“Good.” He mumbled lowly and you just smiled to yourself for a moment, “I really like you, Y/N.” He finally said as his gaze met your own. “And i-if you still like me too then maybe we can try and go an actual date.” He said with hope and you nodded.

“I’d like that.” You agreed and he smiled wider.

“Okay, that’s…that’s good to hear.” He chuckled nervously, “So tomorrow d-do you want to go out and do something with me? I’ve got something in mind.”

“Why not tonight?” You asked with a small pout and he chuckled.

“Because I’d like to make it at least a little bit nice.” He added and you smiled.

“Oh okay, then. That’s fine with me!” You giggled and he chuckled. “I brought my bathing suit so maybe we can go for a swim and have dinner instead, like we planned for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He agreed easily and you both got changed and then got into the pool where you caught up on how the last few months had been treating you both so far.

Then, you had dinner and watched a film and he reached for your hand while you guys watched. You’d held hands before but now you at least knew it was out of a desire to and not obligation it made the butterflies in your stomach swarm at ungodly rates. As the night wrapped up he walked you out to your car, like the sweet man you knew him to be but it was hard to leave. You guys lingered there, finding random little things to talk about to prevent saying goodbye.

“Thank you for hearing me out, by the way.” He said to you after another small moment of silence and you smiled up at him as you leaned on your car and smiled at him. “You didn’t have to after everything.”

“Of course. I’m really glad you reached out to me.” You assured him and he nodded and pulled you in for a hug for maybe the third time now and you nestled into him and sighed, “I really missed you too.” You hummed softly and he pulled back a little bit, enough to be able to look into your eyes again. Neither of you wanted to let go more than that.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You said instantly, “Please.” You chuckled and he did as well as he angled up your face gently by your jaw until he was dipping down enough to smoosh his lips against yours.

He was tentative, he didn’t want to kiss you too hard and hungrily for the first time since the time he’d mucked it up. He wanted you to feel how much he missed you and that despite his previous disrespects, that he in fact did respect you and your time and openness towards him. His fingers skimming along your jaw caused your skin to rise with goosebumps and for a delicious shiver to zing throughout your body. You wanted to lose your cool and just let things get fiery with the tension that simmered between you but he was being so patient himself that it staved off your desperation. You wanted to enjoy how soft and tender he was being right now. You liked how his feelings were emanating from him in intense waves and warming you from the inside out. Finally, he pulled away, it was painful and almost impossible to let him end the kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He whispered between the two of you and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll pick you up around 7.” He informed and you nodded.

“Okay.” You whispered and he pulled you off to the side before opening your car door, “Thanks.”

“Of course.” He smiled and you bit your lip for a moment.

“One for the road?” You asked timidly and he grinned grabbed your face before pecking your lips once more.

“There you are. Now leave while I have the self-control to let you go.” He mumbled between you two and you laughed before settling into your seat and he closed the door behind you. You buckled up and got the engine on and he backed up, giving you room to get going and with a final wave you headed home. You weren’t driving fast at all but it felt like you were flying. You couldn’t stop smiling, even as you settled into bed and stared at the dark ceiling you were wearing a huge smile until you fell asleep.

***************

You’d been on edge all day wondering what it was that he would plan for you two. When you texted to ask what you should wear he said he was going for a semi-casual look, button down with a vest and trousers sort of thing so you decided on going for a similar vibe. You spent hours trying on a variety of combinations and in the end you settled on a black mini skirt with a creme colored, sleeveless knit top. You searched around for your chunky loafers and decided those paired best with the outfit as well. You had blown out your hair that morning so you got it into rollers and threw on a shower cap before you got in and exfoliated your body religiously. You knew your wax girl would kill you, but you ran a razor over your legs to get rid of the slightly prickly layer of hair growing in. You moisturized efficiently and then spritz yourself with your current preferred fragrance, Brit for Her by Burberry.

You had taken a fondness to the scent recently because it reminded you of him. Not that he even smelled like that but just vibe of it made you think of who he was. The prominent or top notes were sweet and fruity. They were bright and intriguing but not overpowering like some fruity perfumes could be. These blended so well with the warmer, darker base notes of vanilla, amber, and mahogany. It created an alluring and irresistible blend of fragrances that seemed to perfectly encompass the feeling he gave you of comfort and warmth and excitement. You wanted it to linger and be memorable, the way he lingered and was memorable to you. Truly, you had no idea where this with him would go or if it would even work out, but you knew he was the kind of person who would leave a mark on you forever.

When you got his call that he was outside you grabbed you gave yourself one more spritz, grabbed your purse, and got into your shoes before hurrying out. He was waiting outside of the car for you, his smiled widened when you saw you going down the steps.

“You look lovely.” He complimented as you approached and you smiled timidly until you got up to him.

“Thank you.” You hummed softly and he pulled you in for a hug and he froze for a second when you hugged him back.

“Fuck…you smell so good.” He hummed against you and you smirked victoriously as he squeezed around you a bit more. “Damn.” He mumbled as he dipped down to kiss right under your jaw and inhale the sweet scent. You giggled as his little bit of stubble lightly tickled your skin as he nuzzled closer.

“Stop that…” You laughed as he nipped at your skin.

“I can’t.” He huffed before kissing up to your lips and pecking over them a few times and pulling away with his lip bitten beneath his teeth.

“Please take me on a date.” You said softly and he smiled.

“Yeah alright.” He agreed with a grin and you giggled as he opened up the door for you. You greeted your driver and settled in as he hurried over to his side and soon enough you were on the road.

“So where are we going?” You asked as your fingers fiddled together and he smiled.

“You’ll see…” he said smugly and you chuckled. You both hummed along to the radio as you tried to figure out where it was you were heading but you seemed to be going in almost a circle as you started heading back towards where your house was. Then you guys turned down a street and you immediate recognized the area and saw the wine bar you guys had been to before just down the way.

“Are we going back to the wine bar?” You asked him and he immediately smiled as you started to slow down before it.

“I desperately need a do over.” He said to you and you smiled, “Things should’ve gone a lot differently than they did that night. So we’re doing it again, correctly this time.” He said with a smile as the car stopped at the valet station up front.

“You’re too sweet.” You said softly and he smiled.

You were soon helped out of the car by the attendant as Harry met you on the sidewalk and you thanked the driver and valet before looping your arms together and heading inside. He gave his name to the young lady at the entrance and she kept her cool as she guided you on back to where you sat the last time you were there. Of course, people were looking but he didn’t seem to mind and soon you were tucked into the back of the bar, mostly covered from everyone’s curious gazes and just smiling at each other across the small table. You guys ordered your first glass and then got to playing Jenga; this one had questions pasted onto the sides of the blocks so you guys went through the tower, giving your responses and discussing these until you toppled it over. You couldn’t help it, your hands were shaky with nerves but also with excitement. He looked so handsome, it was almost painful not to look at him. Soon enough, two glasses turned to four, and you were both giggly and reminiscing your filming days fondly. He had been telling a story about a little mishap he had with one of the modesty garments for one of his scenes with another actress and you two were laughing so hard.

“Wait, wait, wait, I need to go to the bathroom so bad!” You laughed breathily and he chuckled as he let your hand go over the top of the table.

“Yeah, love you go on. Do you want me to order you another?” He asked and you nodded as you hopped down from the high stool.

“Please.” you confirmed as you came around. You were half expecting it when he pulled you in by the waist and nuzzled against your neck again.

“You were too far away.” He hummed as he nipped under your jaw for a second as his big, warm palm nearly caressed down your bottom and you smiled.

“Behave.” You reprimanded playfully and he pulled back to meet your eyes.

“I am.” He assured you and you smiled. “Now go.”

“That requires letting me go.”

“I know…” he said and released you with some reluctance. He watched as you walked off, hips swaying hypnotically as you headed off.

Yeah, you needed to use the bathroom but you also needed a break from the intensity of Harry’s gaze on you. It was intense before, but now that you knew he was also into you it felt overwhelming. This entire time he found a way to graze his fingertips against yours, to knock his foot into yours, to make you aware of the minimal space between the two of you as much as possible. As if you needed a reminder of how badly you wanted him in the first place. The more you drank the deeper his voice got and the more intense the tingles got when he spoke to you, you swore you felt the vibrations of his low drawn baritone at your core, rippling out to the rest of your body with each word. Lust didn’t begin to cover what you felt for him. Even as you sat there for a moment relieving yourself you could hear some other ladies in the bathroom talking about just how good he looked tonight and how demanding and intense his energy was. How it was practically impossible not to feel him in the space. When you opened up the stall door the girls talking about it froze and watched you for a second.

“You’re not wrong.” You said to them with a small smile and they looked relieved at how relaxed you were towards them. “Please don’t tell anyone that. I just needed to get it off my chest.” You chuckled bashfully as you washed your hands.

“No girl, your secret is safe with us.” One of them assured with a kind smile.

“You guys kissed in that movie a bunch of times, how are you still alive?” One of them asked and you chuckled.

“It was hard for sure…” you confirmed, “What was worse was how sweet he is…It makes it so hard not to take it to heart.” You explained and they hummed.

“You look so cute by the way. Could we get a picture?” One of them asked and you smiled.

“Ummm sure!” You giggled and they hurried over. The first pic was a failure, you all laughed at your half closed eyes, “Sorry, I’m so fucking tipsy!” You giggled and on the third try you managed to keep your eyes open wide enough to appear normal.

“I wish we could get one with Harry too.” One of the girls said.

“Well, if you guys leave at the same time as we do I can try and talk him into it.” You offered and they gushed and thanked you and assured you they’d keep an eye out for this.

They were so sweet to you, assuring you that you looked exquisite and giving you the confidence boost you really needed to flirt up a storm with Harry. He’d been so attentive and you’d been quite cool about it, but you were ready to reciprocate and show him just how much you wanted him too. When you made your way out of the bathroom it was with a new found confidence thanks to your bathroom besties. You were walking a little taller and with a little more sway as you headed back to your table.

As you made it back to your secluded little section you saw that Harry had settled into the stool beside yours. He was initially looking at the drinks menu but then he glanced up and right into your eyes, almost as if he sensed you coming. When your eyes met you just about melted. You finally understood that famous and hunger-inducing line form Bridgerton - “I burn for you.” You were feeling it in real time. The energy between you two, the longing of his gaze and how it followed the curves of your body, taking you in from head to toe. You loved how you could see his restraint as you approached your table once again. You felt scrutinized but in a good way. You felt desirable, you felt like the perfect and delicate thing you’d always wanted to be in someone’s gaze. He made you feel like you were worth all the effort and more and you loved that. You knew you could be a little intense and rough around the edges at times but he clearly liked that. He found it amusing and endearing. He loved having something to fight for. He enjoyed proving to you why he was worth your time and effort.

“What?” you asked as you reached your seat and he shook his head.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful.” He hummed lowly as you settled into your seat. You smiled and then glanced up to him.

“Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so, love. Convincing myself otherwise was absolute torture.” He confessed and you bit your lip to suppress your smile and all of the feelings you had for him boiling inside of you. He shook his head and glanced down at his hands timidly. “Don’t do that…”

“Why not?” You pressed and he looked at you again.

“I don’t think I can handle it all.” He explained with a pained look in his eyes and you hummed softly. “You already smell so divine that I want to be close in enough to breathe you in. But you biting on your lip like that makes me want to bite it for you and suck it between my own. I know you’d taste so sweet because you like chewing that bubble mint gum.” He said to you lowly and you nodded almost dumbly as your gazes remained locked on each others.

“What if we call it a night a little early?” You asked him quietly and he smiled.

“Yeah?” He asked and you nodded and shivered when one of his hands landed on your thigh, right over your knee.

“Text the driver.” You instructed and he nodded and pulled out his phone as you reached for your glass of wine. You chugged it down quickly as he texted the man, it was amusing to him how desperate you were to get out of there.

“D’you wanna stop for dumpli-”

“No.” You cut him off and he grinned before reaching for his own glass.

“I kind of don’t want to be anymore buzzed for you but-”

“It’ll feel nicer.” You said with a smile and he hummed.

“It would…” He agreed, his own smile ghosting along his lips.

“I’m still good though, are you?”

“Yeah, love.”

“Then, who cares?” You asked.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” You assured him.

“I want you so fucking bad. That’s what were talking about, right?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah.” You confirmed and he flashed you that charming, dimpled boyish grin that you’d missed so much.

“Okay. As long as you really don’t mind-”

“I don’t. I promise you. Just want to be alone with you.” You assured him and he hummed and finished his glass. “I ummm ran to some girls in the bathroom, they were so sweet to me, they were fans and I told them if they walked out behind us you could take a picture with them outside. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, love.” He assured and you smiled. Moments later the driver was informing you he was pulling up and you started to head out. The girls from the bathroom followed, as you instructed, and they got their photo before you guys slipped into the SUV smoothly and headed off into the night.

You were tingling with his hand running up and down your leg, his fingers danced along your skin. His nose was buried against your neck, kissing you up and down as he inhaled the sweet scent lingering on your skin and in your hair. He was whispering to you how much he missed you and how he wished he hadn’t wasted so much time in reaching out. His fingers were burning into your skin as he slid them up your thigh to a dangerous degree until you gripped around his wrist and smirked at him knowingly.

“What?” He whispered huskily, his eyes already dark and hazy with need.

“You know what…” you hummed lowly and he grinned.

“Sorry, I am trying to behave.” He assured you and then planted a kiss on your temple and lowered his hand to above your knee again. As much as you were asking him to stop, a part of you enjoyed how he pushed the limits a little bit. He clearly was dying to touch you and you were absolutely touch starved. Even just having him rubbing over your knee was causing your skin to rise with goosebumps. You couldn’t arrive at your place any sooner.

When you were finally heading up your driveway you were about ready to burst at the seems. You could feel how wet you were for him, it was even dripping down between your cheeks and you knew he’d love to discover that on his own so you kept it to yourself. Once you got out of the car and thanked the driver, he took off and you keyed your way into your home. As soon as the door closed behind you he pressed you up against it and locked eyes with you.

“This is where I need the do over.” He mumbled, lips tickling your own.

“Tell me more…” You whispered and he smiled and gabbed your jaw with his right hand while he grabbed your hip with his left and he leaned in and kissed you quickly, like he had that first time and his eyes met yours with a fake apologetic look in them, it was amusing really.

“Shit.” He whispered between you two; just like he had the first time, “That was a mistake.” He hummed as he looked into your eyes and you smiled as you decided to play along and role play it with him.

“Then why did you do it?” You asked and he bit his lip, nose skimming your nose with his again.

“I can’t help it. I like you. I like you so fucking much, Y/N.” He confessed softly.

“Then do it again. Like you mean it this time.” You requested. Before you knew it he grabbed your face and kissed your deeply. The hunger of it was making you weak in the knees. Your tongues tangled as you guided his hands down your waist, hips, and finally to the bottom of your skirt.

“Yeah? Can I?”

“Please.” You insisted and he slid them up under the fabric to feel your underwear-covered butt. He kneaded your cheeks in his big, warm palms, squeezing the fleshy bits fervently and feeling you up, pressing you up against his growing erection.

“I want you. I want you so fucking bad.” He breathed into your mouth.

“Me too.” You panted as you looped your arms around his neck, “Should we go up to my room?”

“Are you sure?” He asked once more through his ragged breaths. You kissed his slowly and nodded into it.

“I’m so fucking sure.” You confirmed breathlessly and he kissed you deeply again before you guided him up the stairs and into your bedroom. You threw the door back and you two immediately started undressing.

You didn’t care to make it all that romantic, especially with how tipsy you both were, you guys just wanted to feel each other. So as soon as you were naked you guys fell into your bed and he kissed from your lips down your body. He didn’t waste an opportunity to inhale your perfume before sinking down to your breasts and sucking at your needy nipples while his fingers rubbed precise little circles into your throbbing little clit with no preamble. You were grateful he got straight to it because you were desperate for any stimulation.

“You’re so fucking wet f’me, baby.” He hummed before nipping at your sensitive nipple once more and you whimpered, “Is that how bad you want me?” He asked.

“Yes! Yes, I want you so bad!” You whined as he pulled and sucked at your breasts with more force. You winced and whined as he sucked marks into the tender flesh of them to his satisfaction and your own. Before long you started to feel that familiar warmth swirling in the put of your stomach from his fingers on your clit. “Yeah H, just like that!” You cried into the air as he swirled around the sensitive little button over and over until your vision started to blur with your approaching orgasm.

His lips kissed down your abdomen and finally he ended up between your legs and licked at you expertly and you mewled in satisfaction. His tongue replaced his fingers and flicked at your needy little bud while one of his fingers plunged into the depths of you, searching around for your spot. When your legs startled to tremble around his head, attempting to lock him in place he knew you were close. And just seconds later he pulled an orgasm from you with ease and snuck in another finger in, this caused you to gasp and tense up before you just melted into your bed. He was just hitting the perfect spot with his fingertips, rubbing into a part of you that was making your pussy flutter in a way it never had before and you felt another orgasm unexpectedly building up.

“Yes! Yes, baby! I-I’m coming!” You gasped and he moaned into your pussy as he tarted to suck on your clit and you began to whither around his thick, lock digits. You were covered in goosebumps as the pleasure started to roll through your body in wonderfully timed waves that allowed you to enjoy his persistent stimulation into your greedy little cunt. Even this wasn’t enough. You were trembling but begging for more. “Please, I need you. I need more.” You panted in your impaired state.

“Don’t have a condom, love.” He chuckled against your smooth and sticky folds.

“Just pull out.” You panted as you raked your fingers into his hair and he groaned against you.

“Don’t tempt me, baby.” He chuckled and you bit your lip and tugged him up by the hair until his eyes met yours.

“I’m serious.” You assured him as you swallowed thickly, “Please baby, need you to fuck me. Need you to fuck me so good I forget everything except you.” You panted and he licked over his lips with a near pained expression.

“ Baby-”

“Please, H. Please, give it t’me. Want you so badly, it hurts, that’s how bad I need you.” You begged and he groaned as he caved to your request with a deep and sloppy kiss. You knew he was painfully hard as well. As much as you wanted a taste of him, you’d much rather feel his big, thick cock spreading you open and splitting you apart.

“Y’sure?” He panted as he hovered above you.

“I’m so sure, baby. So sure.” You assured him as he glanced up at you and before you knew it he was kneeling over you as you helped him out of his boxer-briefs, wrapping his thick length in your palm the moment it fell out of its constraint.

“Shit, a little tighter.” He mumbled and you tightened your grip around him and stroked him over and over, up and down, keeping him at full mast. “That’s it. Jus’like that.” He sighed in relief. You could feel the sticky texture of his precome when you’d reach the tip and drag it down his length. After a few moment of this he lowered his hips and settled against your hot and drenched folds, immediately the wet squelching sounds of him sliding through your labia became the most prominent sound between you two. “So fucking wet f’me. Shit, you want my cock so bad, don’t you?” He panted and you nodded and whined, “Say it. Say you want my cock in that pretty little pussy and I’ll fuck you with it. Stretch open that tight little hole, make it all mine.” He breathed into the minimal space between you two.

“Please, H.” You panted, “I need your cock. Need to feel you spreading my tight little hole open.” You pleaded, tearful eyes meeting his and he groaned and leaned down, squeezing his eyes shut as he kissed you for a few seconds before he guided himself down to your entrance and fed the tip into your weepy little hold. “Oh fuck!” You gasped softly as he started to push in and he moaned as he felt you start to stretch around him.

“You can take it. I know you can, baby.” He panted as his eyes met your wide eyes again. You nodded in confirmation for him to keep going and he pushed in further, splitting you open until your eyes just fluttered shut until he was bottoming out and sheathed fully in the warmth of your wet and velvety walls.

You swore his tip was poking into your stomach from how deep he was. You’d never felt so full before, you were paralyzed for a few moments. He was big and thick, you swore it wiped out part of your brain when he started to grind into you. The thick, ruddy tip of his cock was prodding into your g-spot, causing your mind to blank and for your body to shiver with an abundance of pleasure. You were getting more drunk on his dick and even the way he was grinning down at you as you let out the most obscene moans was feeding your pleasure.

“Shit, you take it so well…fuck, love to see that tight little hole stretching wide around my cock, baby. Y’feel so fucking good…so fucking tight and wet f’me.” He groaned as he thrusted in and out, watching your little hole puckering around his thick cock. He moaned every time he pulled back, watching your creamy arousal streaking down his shaft with each deep plunge into your needy little pussy. He moaned and spat against your folds before rubbing his thumb into your clit and you shuddered.

“Yes, baby! That’s it!” You mewled as you grabbed your breasts, pinching at your nipples, helping him draw you up the edge of your orgasm. Harry was panting, feeling his balls thwacking against your ass had his mind going fuzzy with excitement.

“Fuck…fuuuuck, you’re gonna make me come so fucking hard!” He chuckled breathily, head thrown back as he delivered sharp and powerful thrusts into you, over and over, living for the feeling of his tip colliding into the depths of you.

“Oh fuck…fuck! I’m…ohmygodI’mcoming!” You slurred and he smiled as you started to whither beautifully. Your back arched up, nipples pointed straight towards the ceiling as you trembled and soaked his cock with a soft squirt from how deep he was getting. Your ears were ringing and you were seeing white behind your closed eyelids but he wasn’t letting up until you got through the whole thing. You could hear him moaning and struggling to keep it together as he thrust in and out of you. Your walls pulsed around his cock hard and fast with your slick coated all over his thick length, causing him to lose some control over his movements. You were covered in goosebumps, shivering as you continued to come hard around him.

“Shit, baby! Shit!” He gasped as he started thrusting erratically, losing the steady rhythm he had maintained until now.

“Come for me, H. Come for me, baby.” You encouraged him and he pulled out quickly and you wrapped your hand around his length and he thrust into your perfectly tight grip a few times until his breath hitched and he groaned when you felt the first spurt of his hot, milky cum right over your pubic bone. He moaned lowly as he started to unload all over your already sticky pussy. You guided him between your swollen and sensitive folds, letting him thrust against you as he spilled all over your swollen pussy with his cum. His body was trembling as you rubbed at his bicep until he minimized the space between you and caught your lips with his. “Mmm…fuck…” he hummed and you smiled

“Good?”

“So fucking good.” He panted breathily and you pecked his lips quickly. “Was it good for you?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, H. More than.” You assured and he smiled before kissing you again.

“Good, love.” He whispered before resting his weight on one elbow before kissing you deep and slow. He took his time tasting you properly and only pulled away when you both needed to breathe, “Jut as things should’ve been from the start.” He hummed and you kissed his lips quickly.

“We’re here now, yeah?” You asked quietly and he smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.” He hummed, “So, does this mean we can give us a real chance?” He asked as his fingers found yours and you nodded and smiled as he bought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“I’d love that, Harry.” You assured him and he smiled brightly at you.

“Thank you for giving me another chance after the stunt I pulled before.” He said more seriously.

“I like you too much not to.” You said with a small smile and he smiled and kissed you once more.

“Well I assure you, there’s far more making up I plan on doing…” He smirked and you bit your lip excitedly, “Just you wait.”

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marvelmusing · 5 months

Text

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Pairing: Modern!Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you find yourself with nowhere to live, your friend Alina offers you the perfect solution - her Uncle Aleksander’s empty townhouse. What you don’t know is that Aleksander’s security cameras watch your every move, and Aleksander himself is almost instantly captivated by you.

Warnings [18+]: smut, dom!Aleksander, reader is staying in Aleksander’s house (supposedly) without his knowledge, subtle mafia vibes, power play, voyeuristic vibes from Aleksander, unspecified age gap, reference to oral (fem receiving), slight cnc vibes (no verbal consent but a safeword is established), smidge of size kink, very subtle hints that Aleksander wants children, he’s quite intense but she’s into it.

A/N: happy christmas everyone!

My Masterlist

Aleksander receives an alert the moment his front door is opened. One glance at the screen of his phone reveals that Alina’s key card had deactivated the alarm system.

It isn’t unusual for her to invite herself into his townhouse in one of the affluent boroughs of the city. He rarely uses the space himself, preferring his smaller apartment in Central Os Alta due to the vicinity to his workplace. What is unusual, however, is that she has company today.

Aleksander has an extensive number of security cameras and microphones placed throughout his home. It helps to ease his paranoia and sate the need to control his surroundings. He doesn’t tend to check on Alina when she visits, leaving her to her own devices, but your presence has his interest piqued.

Alina doesn’t bother to take her shoes off, per usual. But you do. After dragging your feet over the doormat - twice, one foot after the other - you tug off your shoes, placing them neatly beside his shoe rack before hurrying to catch up to Alina as she heads towards the kitchen.

He’s proud of the townhouse, a space he had curated as a safe haven for himself and a currently non-existent significant other. Seeing you stare, lips parted as your eyes drink in the furniture and decor in what seems like awe, has a warmth gathering in his chest. He will admit, your admiration of his house is rather adorable.

Curious, he unmutes the sound on the security feed, just in time to hear your voice as you ask tentatively,

“You’re sure your uncle won’t mind?”

Alina opens up a cupboard, retrieving a bag of snacks which she examines with a small frown, before she rips the packaging open and begins to munch on the treats inside. She shrugs through a mouthful.

“He barely ever stays here.”

“But you did ask him… didn’t you?”

Aleksander vaguely remembers Alina mentioning a friend of hers that needed a place to stay. What he doesn’t remember is giving her permission to accommodate said friend in his house. But he watches Alina nod, scrunching up the bag as she finishes her snacks.

“He wants someone here to receive his parcels,” she says, tossing the crumpled wrapper towards the bin. She misses.

He doesn’t order anything to his house. All his parcels are delivered either to his work or his apartment. The townhouse is his hidden treasure, though strangely he doesn’t loathe the idea of letting you stay there. Perhaps he should place a few harmless orders, to aid Alina’s lie. Something inconspicuous, that you might enjoy, like a monthly flower subscription. He likes the thought of you assembling a cheerful bouquet in his living room.

“And you’re sure he doesn’t want any rent,” you say, picking up Alina’s rubbish and placing it in the bin. You’re already a perfect houseguest, though he hopes you might be able to feel comfortable enough to relax in his house.

Aleksander almost feels offended by your suggestion and is relieved when Alina shakes her head.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll tell him I’m the one staying here. Besides, you’re like my sister. What’s mine is yours.”

“Even your Uncle Sasha?” you ask with a shy smile and this tiny glimpse at your humour has Aleksander wanting to devour you.

Alina grins.

“Especially him.” She pushes away from where she’s been leaning on the kitchen counter. “I’ll give you the password to his grocery account. Order whatever you like.”

That nervous expression returns to your features.

“Are you sure?”

“He gives me an allowance that I never use. You can have it.” She opens one of the kitchen drawers, rummaging through the contents despite Aleksander’s meticulous organisation. It doesn’t take her long to find what she’s looking for. “Here’s a key card to disable the security alarms and the wifi password.”

Aleksander watches you take the objects slowly, holding them in the palm of your hand before closing your fist around them protectively. Alina gestures upwards towards the rest of the house.

“Pick whatever bedroom you like best.”

Unknown by you, the moment you choose Aleksander’s bed to sleep in you become his.

»»---------------------►

As the owner of the internet router at his house, Aleksander can see what sites you visit while using his internet - a power that he abuses fully. He enjoys the insight into your thoughts and interests. The questions you have about the world and the things that make you happy.

During his lunch one day, Aleksander is scrolling through your recent search history when he spots something interesting. His name. Initially just a google search. Then you had examined his Instagram and Facebook, before moving onto his company website.

He’s tempted to pull up the security feed and rewind it back to the moment you had first typed his name, just to see your reaction to what you’re seeing. Especially when he sees how long you had spent reading the tabloids and swiping through images of him. It seems he has captured your attention.

»»---------------------►

It takes a small nudge from Aleksander for you to stop buying only the necessities during your grocery order. Just a few small taps of his thumbs and he adds enough random baking supplies for you to perceive it as an accident when it arrives.

One day, Alina visits him at work, a small box of cupcakes tucked under her arm. Instantly, he recognises them as one of your creations. He had watched you bake them yesterday head bobbing to your music as you had decorated them with an adorable frown of concentration and a smudge of buttercream on your face.

He waits until she leaves before cracking open the box, allowing the sweet sugary scent to invade his senses. The moan that escapes him during his first bite is obscene. He wonders whether your cheeks would flush with heat at the sound. His mind wanders, thinking of kissing the cream off your cheeks.

Aleksander finds himself imagining what it would be like to come home to you, the house warm and inviting as you await his arrival with a sweet treat and an eager smile. He would sink to his knees on the kitchen tiles, slide your skirt and apron up to your waist so that he can kiss your pretty cunt until his name is the only word you can manage.

»»---------------------►

Aleksander hates seeing you cry. But that job of yours was doing you no good. Waking up early to catch the bus and arriving home so tired that you don’t have enough energy to cook yourself a hot meal. Now, after Aleksander has pulled a few strings, you can sleep for as long as you like and spend time creating food that brings you joy.

He has already logged onto his grocery account and amended your weekly order to include a few recipes you wanted to try and some additional treats in an attempt at lifting your spirits. All he wants is for you to be happy.

He’s sorely tempted to go to you now. To wrap his arms around you, hold you against his chest and kiss the crown of your head while murmuring reassurances that this was for the best. He doesn’t like seeing you so despondent. He wants his happy girl back, who tends to the flowers and reads curled up in his armchair beside the fire.

He could just go to you. It’s his house you’re staying in after all. But he doesn’t want to rob you of your safe place. If he turned up now, he knows you would feel pressured to leave, even when you have nowhere else to go. His sweet girl, so terrified of taking up too much space. One day, very soon, he will be able to appreciate you how he longs to.

»»---------------------►

He thinks you might be trying to kill him.

Aleksander’s home gym is a room occupied by a treadmill and a few stray pieces of equipment that he hardly ever uses, there to fill the space he hopes will one day be converted into a nursery.

Currently, you’re stretching yourself out over a yoga mat he didn’t even know he owned, twisting your body into a rather enticing position. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you, shifting in his seat to alleviate some of the ache in his throbbing cock.

Whilst he’s glad you’ve found another hobby to fill your time - and the thought of your improved flexibility pleases him - he almost wishes he hadn’t checked in on you. Now, he is going to have to sit through a meeting and resist the urge to continue watching you.

»»---------------------►

Once a week, Alina stays over with you, spending the evening catching up and talking about all manner of things together. Aleksander likes to listen in while he’s working, imagining that he’s actually in the office across the hall from the living room.

Alina’s suggestion of a blind date for you makes him stiffen, lifting his eyes away from his papers and onto the screen. He’s somewhat glad that you seem apprehensive.

“I thought you didn’t like Mal?” you ask Alina, fidgeting with the edge of the velvet cushion in your lap.

She shrugs.

“Just because he wasn’t right for me doesn’t mean he won’t be right for you.”

Aleksander can say with absolute certainty that Mal is nowhere near the right man for you. He can remember when Alina was infatuated with the boy. If he strings you along like he did with Alina, Aleksander won’t be able to stop himself from interfering.

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t be mad, but I might have already made a reservation for you.”

“Lina!”

You swat her with your cushion - almost playfully - but Aleksander can see your anxiety in the set of your shoulders. To hell with not interfering. He mutes the sound on the screen, picking up his phone and dialling a familiar number.

“Zoya, I need a favour.”

»»---------------------►

He needs to play this carefully. With Zoya’s intervention at the bar where Mal was meeting his friends for a drink beforehand, he will never make it to your date. Aleksander needs to leave you waiting long enough to be relieved by his arrival, but not so long that the rejection damages your self esteem. From a corner of the restaurant, he watches your face carefully.

Each time a waiter appears, he sees you grow a little more agitated, fidgeting with your fingers as you insist that your date will arrive soon. It’s only once he sees you inhale shakily that he decides to pick up his coat and stroll over to your table.

“Is this seat taken?”

Embarrassment touches at your features as you glance up at him, then the tables surrounding you as you seem to assume he’s asking to take the chair to his own table. He watches your lips press together before you shake your head and gesture defeatedly at the chair.

“It’s all yours.”

He smiles widely, draping his coat over the back of the chair before he sits down.

“Thank you, milaya.”

The look of surprise on your face is delightful, even more so when recognition sparkles in your eyes.

“Mr Morozova.”

He’s exceptionally proud of the feigned confusion he spreads over his features.

“Do we know each other?”

“You’re Alina’s uncle.”

“Yes,” he says, the hint of a question at the edge of his tone. Ducking your head bashfully, you tell him your name.

He repeats your name slowly, as if it is the first time he’s ever spoken it, trying to ignore how wide your eyes are at the sound of your name on his lips.

“Alina mentioned you were looking for a place to stay in the city. Did you manage to find somewhere?”

You seem startled at the thought of him remembering you.

“Oh, yes. I did, thank you.”

He smiles. Alina had lied to him, telling him that she was the one staying at his house. Whilst he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, the urge to make you squirm a little pokes at him.

“Do you like where you’re living now?”

He watches you shift nervously in your seat, but your response is earnest.

“Yes, I do,” you admit quietly. “It’s lovely.” He hums indulgently, hoping you might continue speaking, and you nod. “One of the nicest places I’ve ever lived.”

He wants to keep you forever.

Instead, he offers to buy you dinner, which you agree to after a little convincing from Aleksander. He asks for your order, calling the waiter over to place it for you both.

Now that you’re front of him, after watching you through a screen for so long, Aleksander can’t look away from you. In such proximity, he can observe every minute detail. The way you fidget with the charms on your bracelet. The way you attempt to be subtle when you glance at him, only to find his eyes already on you.

He drinks in the sight of you, warmth in his chest as you tuck into your meal. He will admit, he pays little attention to his own plate, choosing to watch as you eat eagerly with soft sounds of pleasure in response to the taste. All the while, he coaxes you into conversation and by the time you’ve finished you seem much more relaxed in his presence.

Aleksander leans back in his chair, swirling the wine around in his glass with nimble fingers. With a polite gesture to the waiter, he orders another bottle of wine. When the waiter mentions dessert, Aleksander raises a questioning brow at you. He can see the nervousness creep into your eyes at the thought of asking for more.

After you refuse his offer, he orders a plateful of dessert that he intends on sharing with you. When it arrives, he takes a few mouthfuls for himself before he offers a spoonful to you.

“Come on, milaya. I bought it for us to share.”

When you relent, leaning forwards to take the spoon from him, he retracts his head, pulling it out of your reach.

“Ah, ah. No hands. Let me.”

After ducking your head bashfully, you look down to avoid his gaze and Aleksander can see how flustered his words have made you. Still, you nod obediently. He moves the spoon back towards you, feeding you the dessert when you open your mouth for him.

He stares as your eyes flutter closed and you hum in delight at the rich taste with a pretty smile on your face.

Saints, you’re so perfect.

Aleksander pays the bill. He keeps his hand on your lower back as you walk to the entrance of the restaurant. He frowns at the sight of goosebumps prickling over your skin.

“Where’s your coat, milaya?”

“Alina gave me a lift here and I left it in her car.”

He tuts quietly in disapproval.

“Well, that won’t do, will it?” Aleksander places his coat over your shoulders, thick wool draped over your frame to shield you from the cold. He smiles at the sight of you, helping you tuck each of your arms into the sleeves. “There we go.”

You give him a bright smile and begin to play shyly with the buttons at the front of his coat.

“Thank you.”

“Let me give you a lift home.”

Immediately your smile falters and you refuse his offer.

“Oh no, I’m fine walking, thank you.”

“You’re walking?” The moment you nod he begins to shake his head. “Absolutely not.”

“I’m not living in the city centre. It’ll be too out of your way.”

“Nonsense.”

“Mr Morozova-”

“Call me Aleksander, please.”

“Aleksander,” you state slowly. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I’m not going back to my apartment tonight.”

There’s a waver in your voice as you say,

“You’re not?”

He shakes his head.

“I have a house not far from here.”

He watches the internal struggle play over your face. Realisation. Anxiety. Words scrambling from your mind to your tongue as you attempt to create a confession. Sweet girl. Always so honest.

“Aleksander, I…” He watches you wring your hands, the sleeves of his coat covering all but your fingertips. “Alina’s been letting me stay at your townhouse. I’m so sorry for not telling you.”

He doesn’t respond.

Instead, he smiles at the valet, standing behind you as he waits for the man to retrieve his car keys. Leaning down, he presses a pacifying kiss to your temple, smoothing his hands over each of your shoulders, stroking your biceps. He can see the confusion in your eyes at his reaction.

“We’ll discuss this at home, darling.”

His tone leaves no room for argument, though he doubts you would ever openly disagree with him. He feels you shiver at the command in his voice and a thrill runs through him at the thought of you enjoying the role he has picked out for you.

The short walk to the car is silent, a few stray snowflakes beginning to fall. Aleksander keeps his arm around you, ensuring you don’t slip on any ice. He holds the passenger door open for you and keeps his hand on your thigh for the entire journey, ignoring your squirming.

“Aleksander,” you whisper. “I really am sorry.”

“Not now, milaya. Let me concentrate on the roads.”

He feels your skin flush with embarrassment at his condescending tone. The snow has quickly covered the world in white, thick flurries falling faster with every passing moment.

When you finally return home, he slips his coat from your shoulders, hanging it up in the hallway as he nods at your shoes, a silent order for you to remove them. With the height of your heels gone, you seem so much smaller than him as he looks down at you.

“I do not tolerate lying, milaya.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr Morozova. I can move my things out now-”

He presses his thumb against your mouth, index finger curling under your chin.

“I do not want to hear another word from those pretty lips of yours. Safeword is shadow. Understood?”

Excitement sparks in your eyes as you realise what is happening, and when you nod obediently Aleksander feels his cock throb. He knows you will enjoy this. He knows your preferences - what you search for when you’re eager to get yourself off.

“Good girl. Now go pour me a drink.”

Aleksander settles down on his favourite armchair in the living room, watching as you unlock the alcohol cabinet and pour him a small sample of whiskey, the liquid falling smoothly into the crystal glass. He stretches his legs out; his knees always ache during the cold weather. Soaking in a hot bath with you is certainly an enticing thought - perhaps for tomorrow evening.

There’s a slight tremble to your fingers as you hand him the glass.

“Thank you, milaya. Be a dear and take my shoes off - I can’t reach them too comfortably at my age.”

With fumbling fingers, you manage to untie his laces and loosen the shoes away from his feet, slipping them off easily enough. The sight of you between his thighs, kneeling on the ground is utter perfection. He smiles down at you, stroking his knuckles over your cheek.

“There’s a good girl. Place them in the hallway for me?”

In the time it takes you to move into the hallway and place the shoes down on the rack beside his front door, Aleksander has freed his cock from the confines of his trousers and underwear, hissing slightly as he grips himself.

When you return, the sight of him has your footsteps faltering in the doorway. He leans his head back, watching you through hooded eyes and a tense jaw. He sees your eyes widen, like a little deer in headlights. He sees your gaze flicker down to his exposed cock and your thighs tremble as they press against each other.

He tilts his head at you.

“Come sit on my cock, milaya.”

A slight shake of your head.

“It won’t fit.”

“Yes it will. Come here.” Still you don’t move. “I won’t ask again.”

His tone has you stumbling forwards.

As you struggle to straddle his lap, he pushes the hem of your dress, velvet smoothing easily upwards to reveal bare skin. The underwear you’re wearing is nice, though he knows you own much prettier sets. That knowledge reassures him that you hadn’t intended on sleeping with your date tonight.

Retrieving his drink from the table beside him, watching you with a self satisfied smirk as he lifts his glass to your lips.

“Some liquid courage for you.”

He breathes out a soft laugh when he sees your nose wrinkle at the taste; evidently you must have swallowed more than you were anticipating.

“Now let’s have a look at what we have here,” he muses, pushing the gusset of your panties aside to reveal your glistening cunt, flushed and glossy with arousal. A perfect little mess. “Have you been in this state since we arrived? Or during the car ride home?”

He can feel your body burning as you admit,

“Since dinner, sir.”

“Oh sweet girl, have I left you wanting?”

“Please,” you whisper weakly. He brushes the head of his cock over your quivering entrance, grinning at the sound of your whimpers.

“Let’s start with the tip, shall we?”

He begins to ease you onto his cock, stretching you out slowly and a small cry escapes from your lips at the sensation. Sweat glistens over your chest as you heave in a few hurried breaths.

Aleksander praises you with every inch, telling you how perfect you are as you writhe and buck against his hold. Once you’re fully seated on his cock, he runs his hands over your thighs soothingly, encouraging you to relax as your cunt continues to twitch around him.

He tugs the front of your dress down, revealing your breasts for him to fondle freely. His hands wander over your body, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Almost absentmindedly, he begins to play with your nipples, pressing kisses from your forehead down to your jawline.

“Such a pretty sight. How are you feeling, my love?”

“So full,” you whine, on the verge of tears. “So good. Aleksander.”

“That’s it, darling.” He holds onto your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

A weak shake of your head that doesn’t convince him. He suspects you can’t even convince yourself that you don’t want this. Nevertheless, he can’t help but argue with you.

“Who’s been housing you, and feeding you, these last few months?”

He watches your expression crumble in defeat, giving in to your desire.

“You have.”

“That’s right, milaya.” He grasps onto your hips, encouraging you to begin bouncing on his cock.“You have no idea..” The feeling of your cunt squeezing him like a vice makes him groan, hands gripping your trembling thighs. “…how difficult it’s been to resist buying clothes for you as well.” His words are breathless, panted out against your lips as he presses your foreheads together. “Dresses and skirts and pretty lingerie sets. But we have a wedding to save for, don’t we?”

His question seems to catch you off guard, as an obscene moan is ripped from the back of your throat. He rolls his hips upwards, notching the head of his cock against that sweet spot inside you that makes you clench violently. Something akin to a sob heaves at your shoulders as you tremble.

“I’m going to spoil you, darling. I want my ring on your finger. I want you in white lace and diamonds.”

Aleksander moans at the feeling of your nails digging into his arms through the fabric of his shirt. He keeps one hand on your hip, occasionally stroking the tense muscles of your abdomen, the other hand cupping your face so that he can kiss you.

He sees your toes curl, calves twitching as your cunt pulses an erratic beat that makes pleasure rocket down his spine. Aleksander moans your name softly, over and over until you’re shaking with overstimulation as you near your climax. When you begin to plead, he hushes you soothingly.

He knows you haven’t touched yourself in quite some time. He knows that the orgasm you’re seconds away from will unravel you completely. He can’t wait to see it.

“Let go, milaya. I’m right here,” he says warmly as he reaches down to rub firm circles over your swollen clit. “Cum around my cock like the good girl you are. Let me have you.”

Aleksander would consider it something of a religious experience, watching you lose yourself to pleasure. To see something so intimate, so sacred, in such proximity, when he has only ever seen you through a screen for months. The orgasm that hits you is lengthy, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body as your cunt pulses around him. Every movement, every sound you make, is so breathtakingly beautiful that he stares openly at you with his lips parted in awe. His beautiful girl. His.

That final thought is what pushes him into completion, spilling inside you with a deep moan. He looks down at where the two of you are joined, admiring the glistening mess there. He kisses your forehead as you slump down against his chest. There’s a dazed look in your eyes as you stare down at the buttons on his shirt, fidgeting with them absentmindedly.

“I can leave, if you’d like,” you suggest in a quiet murmur. He places his hands on your lower back, keeping you pressed to him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You would freeze out there.”

Aleksander lifts you upwards, squeezing your hips gently as he does so, and his cock slips out of you. He leans forwards, kissing you again as he ticks himself back into his trousers. He sucks on your lower lip, dragging it lightly between his teeth as he buttons up his trousers with one hand.

“Stay,” he says.

The smile you give him is shy as you nod, whispering,

“Okay.”

He hooks his hands under your thighs, lifting you up into his arms. Instantly, you wrap your arms around his neck, coiling yourself around him as he carries you up the stairs.

Some of his cum slips out of you, as he lowers you down onto his sheets. He presses his fingers against your cunt, pushing his spend back inside you where it belongs. A quiet groan catches in his throat at the sensation of your warm cunt clinging to his digits, desperate to keep him inside. He curls his finger, pressing his thumb against your clit.

Aleksander grins when you cant your hips forwards mindlessly.

“What a mess we’ve made. Let me clean you up, milaya.”

Then he ducks his head between your thighs and enters heaven.

»»---------------------►

Aleksander nudges the front door closed with his hip, his hands occupied by shopping bags. He kicks his feet together to dislodge some of the snow stuck to the sole of his shoes, wondering if you’re still asleep.

He finds his answer in the kitchen; you’re dressed in one of his t-shirts. At the sound of him approaching you turn, wide eyed as he stands in the doorway, snowflakes in his hair. He notices your tears immediately, staining your cheeks as you sniffle.

“Milaya?”

“I thought you left me.” The words wobble on their way out. “I woke up and you were gone and I thought you’d left me.”

He lowers the bags, stepping towards you to take you into his arms. After the events of last night, it seems you’re in a somewhat fragile state. He folds his arms around you, giving your body a gentle squeeze as you press yourself tightly against his chest.

“The snow is getting heavy. I thought I would stock up on some essentials to last us until the weather improves,” he explains calmly. He hears how your breathing shakes with emotion. His clothes are still cold from his trip outside and you are delightfully warm. “As if I could ever leave you, my sweet girl.”

He kisses your forehead and your grip on him tightens.

“I’m here,” he murmurs gently, swaying the two of you from side to side as he strokes his hands down your body.

He ducks his head down, hooking a finger beneath your chin to tilt your head backwards so he can kiss you properly. His lips move slowly against yours, palms cupping your cheeks tenderly.

He ensures that you remain attached to him as he puts the perishables away, your arms looped around his neck and your body nestled into his side. Then he abandons the rest of the shopping, opting to bend you over the kitchen countertop, shoving his trousers down so that he can drive his cock into you.

He heaves a sigh of relief at the sound of your breathy gasp, kissing over your neck as you scramble for purchase against the marble.

“That’s it,” he breathes out with a smile, nuzzling his nose into the hollow of your throat. “Isn’t that better?”

Aleksander grips at your waist, dragging you towards him, delighting in your moans as he rolls his hips forwards. He curls a hand around your throat, squeezing lightly to bring your attention to his face. His nose grazes against yours as he insists,

“I meant every word I said last night.”

He leans in, kissing you throughly until he has to stop and breathe. Lowering his hand, his fingers circle your clit, causing you to jerk forwards with a soft moan as he sucks on your lower lip.

“I’m not letting you go, milaya.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone au #the darkling smut

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sanakimohara · 4 months

Note

DDLG with seungmin....sounds like a god send🥰🥴

“DDLG” K.S.

Forgive me for the late response to you, love. 🖤 and of course DDLG Seungmin is going to get a spotlight. It’s only fair. 🖤

[ MDNI ]

++++++++

Dom Seungmin is a silent hard Dom. He doesn’t impose verbal control often which leads to you relying on nonverbal communication. When he pats his lap, an empty space beside him, or a perfectly vacant spot near his feet on the floor you don’t hesitate to sit/kneel. No words needed. With a tap of his fingers under your chin Seungmin instructs you to open your mouth wide for him -readying you to suck on his fingers or wrap around his cock. Every action he imposes is a way to instill mindless submission in you. He takes pride in your obedience, rubbing the top of your head lovingly when you listen without having to be told, and you welcome the praise with a tender smile. “Good pup/kitten.”

Dom Seungmin thrives off reading your expressions, can tell when you’re slipping into subspace, and attends to you accordingly. You don’t have to say anything to get his attention because it’s already drifting towards you. What kind of owner doesn’t watch over his pet at all times?… Not him. That for certain.

Dom Seungmin prefers you wear a collar/choker as a sign of his ownership. Out in public you have a charm/tag attached to it with his name engraved on one side but in private a little bell takes it place. Seungmin thoroughly enjoys the soft jingles your collar/choker makes, signaling when you’re near him, or showing off what he knows to be his. He’ll hook a finger under the dainty jewelry, using it to pull you close for a kiss, or hold your gaze when he’s speaking to you. It’s an automatic reflex he can’t seem to shake and you don’t pull away when he does. He owns you. There’s no doubt about that and the smile on your face every-time he admires his brand around your neck makes him fall in love with you all over again.

Dom Seungmin will make you walk around with a vibrator nestled in your cunt all day. You’re not allowed to remove it, touch yourself, or come without his elicit permission. It’s pure torture, a literal hell on earth for you, and um pooling in your panties and inner thighs keeps you fidgeting for hours. You text and call him non stop after the fourth time he’s edged you, wanting to cry as you beg him to stop, or at least be merciful enough to let you come. Your attempts are in vain because Seungmin amps up the intensity of the toy just to hear you swallow desperate whines, and broken whimpers purely for his entertainment. All while mocking your lack of restraint and sulky behavior. “You’ll be fine, pup. Keep it in for a few more hours and I’ll help when you get home…” “Stop? But it sounds like you’re enjoying it, sweetheart..” “What was that? I should set it higher…?” “You’re so cute when you beg, little one.”

Dom Seungmin sends you borderline threatening texts if you’re out in public together and another person so much as looks your way a little too long for his liking. He gets jealous easily and isn’t afraid to show it either. Although, you find it funny to some degree, he’s completely serious about his warnings.

“Get away from him.”

“Come here. Now.”

“Stop fucking with my patience, Y/n.”

“I should fuck that smile right off your face. His joke won’t be funny then will it?…”

“Don’t look so scared now, pup. You obviously wanted my attention and now you have it…”

Dom Seungmin doesn’t mind that you call him ‘daddy’ or ‘sir’ casually. He’s listening to you either way and prefers you call him such things in private. The one time you did slip up and asked him a question while using his title in public the smuggest smirk was plastered on his face for the entire day. “Should I get the green tea or mocha twist, daddy- ah erm….I mean s-sir….fuck, I mean- Min stop looking at me like that!” You whine while glaring at him, face on fire with embarrassment, and your heart thundering so loud you couldn’t even hear what was going on around you two anymore. He shook his head, quieting his laughter as best as possible before squeezing your hand that was intertwined with his, “The green tea sounds better, pup…”

Dom Seungmin will make you rut against his foot as a punishment. He doesn’t care if you beg to ride his thigh instead or plead for a less strenuous and humiliating reprimand. Whatever you’ve done deserves no leniency and Seungmin isn’t the type to crumble so easily under the influence of round and tearful puppy eyes. Seeing you struggle, writhing around like a bitch in heat excites him more than you realize, and he’ll make you carry on like that until he’s satisfied with the mess you make of yourself. “M’ tired,” you huff through building tears, legs on fire with pain, and your panties soaked through completely, but he makes no move to help you. “Did I tell you to stop?” His voice is low, barely bouncing off the darkened walls surrounding you two, and a shiver runs down your spine as the depth in his tone becomes evident. “No…” you reply meekly, unconsciously rolling your hips to resume your task. Seungmin grins, petting your head appreciatively, and gingerly lifting the top of his boot to press harder on your quivering cunt. You whimper at the added pressure, letting tears fall as another climax curls in your tummy, “Sir…please…n-no more….i wanna rest!” The pitch of your voice rises as the hand in your hair twists and tugs at the strands roughly, forcing your head up to look him in the eyes as he responds in an unnervingly calm whisper, “Good puppies don’t talk back to their master. When you learn that maybe I’ll let you stop. Maybe…”

Dom Seungmin allocates aftercare through discreet gestures. Drawing a bath for you, stocking up on your favorite snacks/drinks so you can indulge in a treat after, and leaving his clothes out for you to wear are common examples. He’s capable of giving you words of affirmation but firmly believes acts of service speak much louder than words. Your obedience to him is matched perfectly with his ability to provide whatever you need/want. It’s a fair transaction of effort on both parts. Seungmin never asks more of you than necessary and you don’t except him to overdo his gratitude. A wholesome midnight walk to get ice cream makes you happier than finding a dozen roses wrapped in silk. That isn’t to say he skips out on gifting you expensive rewards.

“Every pet needs a well earned treat…”

+++++++

So, I’m officially back, and I’m currently going through my inbox to answer requests. I apologize for taking so long to get to them but life is currently giving me lemons and I’m not the best at making lemonade… (that was funny so you better laugh or else…. :/ 🖤) Anyway, I hope you Min Stan’s liked this one… 🖤

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

This hairstyle on him was insanely attractive for no apparent reason. Whoever’s idea it was to style him like this during that era should get a raise, extra paid time off, and a Medal of Honor from Stay. 🖤 Credit to the creator 🖤

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

Note

can you give me a quick bio on ghost…his personality, how you view him canon and what not

Ghost headcanons

Ghost doesn't wear a mask in public. It's easier to maintain his anonymity that way because a skull mask/balaclava would only draw more attention. The only instances he might wear it in a public place would be if he's with people he doesn't wish to get linked to/associated with (like in the famous scene where he's at a bar with Laswell & co)

He doesn't have a home, not even a rental flat. He stays at the base, stays at motels, hotels, b&bs when he's in England. Partly because having anything stable in his life is dangerous, partly because his attachment issues are so severe that even owning a place will make him feel uncomfortable. Returning to the same, dusty place with only a tv and a fridge to keep him company is depressing.

He never visits Manchester. Too many sour memories and too many people who might still recognize him when he's supposed to be dead. There's no one there left to visit either, save for a few old friends who he can't keep in contact with because he wants to protect them.

He hasn't dated since he was 20-something. He doesn't want to take the risk of losing his loved ones ever again. He's had a few one night stands but disappears before dawn, hating the man he has to be in order to protect those who might otherwise steal their way into his heart.

He's considered using escort services instead, but even the thought leaves a foul taste in his mouth because of his childhood memories and the things his father did to women. He goes to strip clubs sometimes when he has a weak moment, drinks one whiskey and then goes to his motel room and jerks himself off, feeling lousy and even more depressed afterward.

If we ignore this man's attachment issues and complex trauma and imagine he would settle into a situationship or even a relationship:

Ghost is not mean, brutal or abusive. In bed or in any non-work related circumstances (Ghost would say he's not brutal or mean at work either: he's just efficient.) He can be rough if you want and even enjoys manhandling you a little, but he would have a hard time degrading you. He's a soft dom and a service top through and through and quite the gentleman at heart.

He has a lot of money. He's not a spender and has no kids so the pile of wealth he's accumulated over the years is quite enormous. He will spend his money on you though, take you out to dinner, buy you anything you need. He does it so willingly and effortlessly that you soon get a feeling that he's your sugar daddy or at least would want to be. He pays your electricity bill if he finds it on your table and sees it's overdue, doesn't even bother to ask for your permission. And oh, do you need a gorgeous dress for some occasion? Let him buy it for you. You need a car? Sure, no problem at all.

He's paranoid to the point of not telling you when he's about to visit you. He just pops on your doorstep, looking dog-tired and ten years older than he really is. The only thing he leaves in your apartment is a toothbrush and perhaps one of his sweatshirts (if you ask nicely.)

He seems to have a sixth sense, and is very superstitious. He thinks telling you he loves you is a perfect way to attract malevolent attention and bad luck upon himself, so he refrains from being verbal about how he truly feels. You think he's indifferent, that you're just a shag for this man, but in truth he's dedicated and devoted to you and sees no one else but you, thinks about you at work so much so that he already calls you a distraction in his mind. It's dangerous, his feelings are already bringing him bad luck, and so the cycle of silence continues…

He's an incredible hacker but uses old, foolproof technology to avoid being traced. You can never call him, he always calls you. If he even calls.

He's not a drinker and doesn't like to see you drinking either. He absolutely, vehemently hates drugs.

He's embarrassed about it but he has read like 5 novels in his lifetime. All other books have been non-fiction, manuals and the like. He says he hasn't got the time to read.

He loves to see you in ultra feminine underwear. Lace, stay ups, suspenders: he loves to undress you like you're a delicately wrapped Christmas present just for him.

He loves to eat pussy. He would eat you all day, every day, for the rest of his life if he could. He especially loves it when you ride his face and he gets to feel how your thighs start to tremble next to his face.

He loves missionary. Loves loves loves to spread you open and spread his religion. You even joke about it: that his ass is so fit because he fucks you so much, and he only smiles to himself because it's true.

Ghost wants kids, but would he ever tell you that? No. He never tells you anything. You know nothing of this man, not even his favorite movie or his favorite color (which is not black, btw).

He has a terrible praise kink. He loves praising you, teasing you, making you flustered while he's inside you – but if you ever tell him he's big? He's good? That you like it when he smiles? His brain goes full error. He fucks up the rhythm of his thrusts and has to gather his breath. (Then he ups the stakes and praises you even more. Because he also has to win. Always.)

If you ever tell him you miss him, that you can't sleep without him… He disappears for weeks. Then he suddenly comes back, more touch starved and desperate than ever. Your words have gone under his skin whether he likes it or not. You can't even tell whether he's fucking you or making love to you, but you're left feeling like you just got hit by the most loving, gentle bus. There's no explanation, and it's futile to try and pry what's gone into him. But just before you fall asleep, he ghosts his fingers down your arm and whispers: "Pet… I missed you too."

#answered #simon ghost riley #ghost headcanons #simon riley headcanons #not a quick bio but #*shrugs*

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kkvqwrites · 1 year

Text

You Flinched | 141 Headcannons

Don't mind me, just some 141 boys reacting to finding out reader has a history of abuse or DV. We all know that our boys would never harm a loved one, but I began thinking about them responding to their loved one being triggered. Because trauma isn't rational.

CW: DV mentioned/alluded to (not on-screen), trauma

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,833

A/N: Yes this is self-indulgent because I have my own history and use my comfort characters to help. So I hope it can help someone else in the same way it helps me. Also forgive me, I threw it together on a whim and didn't really edit it.

Simon "GHOST" Riley

Simon is usually very careful with how he presents. He knows he's big, he knows he's intimidating, and most of all he knows what it's like to be vulnerable and scared of someone bigger than you. He knows when to use his voice/stature to his advantage (like on the battlefield) vs when to tone it down (like in private). He never wants to be scary to those he loves, ever. In fact, he wants his loved ones to have the opposite experience from what he had growing up.

That said, we all have our moments. It was, you both could admit, a silly argument over what ended up amounting to a non-issue. He was fresh back from the field and sleep-deprived and you had had a long shitty day and so a small disagreement became an argument. Somewhere in the bickering Simon decided he was over it. He stood, crumpling the paper he was holding into a fist and raising his voice, which he almost never did.

The combination of the fist and the yelling was what did it. He stood up so tall, so fast, and suddenly you were eight again, hiding in the cupboards and terrified to make a sound. Not knowing what would happen if you were found, but knowing for certain it wouldn't be good. When your parents went into their rages, there was nothing to do but hide and wait it out. As if reciting a dance you knew by heart, you shrank back, hands coming up defensively.

Simon noticed instantly, despite your best attempts to play it off. He knew all too well the look of a terrorized inner child and recognized it immediately in your pale face and shrinking posture. It broke his heart; he immediately regretted lashing out as it was, but this was even worse.

He'd step back, giving you space. He'd ask permission before approaching you and before hugging you, and once you gave it you'd be wrapped in an embrace that was both tender and hard as steel. He'd hold you for a long time, not saying anything. If you cracked and it all came spilling out, he'd listen intently. If you didn't want to talk about it, he'd respect it and not breathe a word about it until you were ready. You could feel in his heartbeat his need to make you feel safe warring with his desire to find whoever made you afraid and teach them a lesson about fear.

Simon is a man of actions, not words, and he's never been a fan of "sorry" and instead prefers follow-through. Now, though, the word poured from his lips. Wrapping your arms around him in return, you forgave him wordlessly.

The next free time you both had, he'd surprise you by taking you to a shooting range. Another weekend, he'd teach you basic knife skills and how to throw a decent punch. If questioned, he'd say it was something he'd been meaning to do for a while with a dismissive shrug. But you had a hunch, even if he couldn't or wouldn't verbalize it, that he was sharing with you the ways he'd learned to overcome feeling powerless when he was younger. By learning to defend and fight back, you could take your agency back and walk into the world unafraid. It didn't matter that he'd grind anyone who bothered you into dust, because it was about you and making you feel empowered. Simon wasn't one to give you bouquets of flowers and poems, but he could give you this. And, slowly but surely, it started to work.

John "SOAP" Mactavish

You and Johnny were out with some mutual friends at the pub one night, drinking and having fun. Your boisterous Scotsman was ever the social butterfly, and he never failed to bring the party wherever he went.

You and a friend were laughing at something on your phone, and when you handed it Johnny to show him, you froze as your eyes saw an unmistakable silhouette over his shoulder. You recovered quickly, sure that it was a mistake, but not quickly enough. Johnny's face went serious as he studied your expression, which was suddenly tense.

You'd play it off, not wanting to ruin the good vibe. You'd even double check to reassure yourself that it wasn't him, but your stomach would sink once you looked back. In a corner of the bar, nursing a glass of dark liquor, was your ex. He noticed you at the same time, and the eye contact made you feel sick.

At this, Johnny would take a look for himself, and would pick out the man eyeing you from across the bar right away. After giving the man a once-over, he'd turn back to you.

"Is that who I think it is?" You'd nod. You had told him bits and pieces of how your ex treated you, but left out the worst of it lest Johnny go on a rampage to defend your honor. He's loyal to a fault and would not take kindly to anyone mistreating people he cared about.

The unfortunate thing was, being special forces came with an ability to read people and situations, and your reaction to seeing your ex filled in the gaps well enough for Johnny to understand what wasn't being said. You were scared, and the man seemed to know it by the smug expression he wore as he stared at you.

Rather than cause a scene, as you had feared, Johnny scooted so he completely blocked your view of the other man (and the man's view of you via his broad shoulders). Seamlessly, he'd continue the conversation with the folks around you as if nothing was amiss, despite his hand never leaving your thigh in a move that was at once possessive and reassuring. You leaned into the touch, comforted by Johnny's presence and relieved that the situation had seemingly blown over.

A bit later, Johnny announced he was going to the bar to get another round for the table. On instinct, your gaze shot to where your ex had been sitting, but his seat was now empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, your eyes turned to follow Johnny through the room. You could never get tired of looking at him. It wasn't until he reached the bar and clapped a fellow patron on the shoulder that you realized the individual he was talking to wasn't the bartender, but your ex who had moved seats. Keeping his hand on the man's shoulder, Johnny struck up a conversation like a true natural.

Oh no.

You braced for a commotion, but Johnny's expression and body language stayed friendly and open. You couldn't hear what he was saying to the man, and if asked he'd tell you he was just introducing himself. But when he let go of your ex's shoulder and flagged down the bartender to order a drink, the other man threw some money onto the bar and all but ran out the door.

The place would become a frequent haunt for your friend group, but you'd never see your ex darken the doorstep again after Johnny's talk with him. Good riddance.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You and Kyle had been going steady for a bit now, and you were excited to introduce him to your family. Well, most of your family. You didn't have a good relationship with your stepdad, and Kyle respected that it was a sore spot for you. He would never pry, but he could pick up on how your tone would change when your stepdad would come up in conversation, how your posture would change when your mom dragged him into the frame to say hello during your video chats.

A big family dinner was the perfect opportunity to introduce everyone to Kyle, and you were looking forward to it. Truly. You had a nice outfit picked out and Kyle bought some fancy wine to bring, hoping for a good first impression. He needn't have worried; your aunts and cousins all fawned over him, and your uncles were endlessly impressed by his stories from his job. Long story short, he was a hit.

He stayed by you all night, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb as he made conversation. At first, you chalked it up to being the new guy in the room, but the ease of his posture suggested he wasn't nervous. Rather, his frequent check-ins started to make it feel like his closeness was for your benefit. You were the one who was nervous, looking over your shoulder every few minutes praying you didn't see a certain face in the crowd. You loved your family, but get-togethers always came with a certain amount of anxiety. Every time your eyes strayed around the room, Kyle's followed, taking in the crowd. Even more frequently, you caught him sneaking glances at you, as if assessing if you were alright.

You were alright, until the front door opened and you heard a specific voice boom in greeting. Your mom and stepdad strode in, late as always, your mom carrying the casserole dish and your stepdad slapping a case of beer on the counter. Your demeanor changed immediately, shrinking yourself as if you could become invisible if you just hunched enough. It didn't work, of course, and they spotted you within seconds. Before you could react, Kyle was in front of you, placing himself between you and your parents with a smile and his hand out to shake.

"I'm Kyle, heard lots about you," he said neutrally, shaking hands with both of them. They turned to you, but Kyle spoke again. "How was the drive? Heard you had to come across that new expressway, have they finished that yet?"

It was like that the rest of the evening. Kyle remained an immovable barrier between you and your stepdad, keeping him engaged in conversation and unable to address you. You and your mom were able to slip away shortly to help set the table and catch up, and every time you snuck a glance at the men out of the corner of your eye, the view was the same: Kyle orienting himself as a physical wall, keeping you out of eyeshot. His body language was at-ease, his smile friendly enough, but his eyes were tight, not like they had been when talking with everyone else.

When everyone grabbed a seat, Kyle pulled a chair out for you before quickly stealing the spot next to you from your stepdad. You looked at him with gratitude and he squeezed your knee reassuringly under the table, all the while maintaining conversations with those around him as if nothing was amiss. If you hadn't already loved him, you certainly would have after that night.

Captain John Price

Ah, spring cleaning.

Well, it was November, but still. It's refreshing to get rid of old stuff and start anew, but it's also essential when you're combining two households. John had finally convinced you to move in with him, so the two of you were creating piles labeled "Keep" "Trash" and "Donate". Upon reaching the bottom of an old box labelled "Miscellaneous," you came upon something that had your stomach churning. Old records: Johnny Cash, the Sex Pistols, the Doors. You hadn't realized you had them, and you weren't particularly fond of who they belonged to.

You didn't realize you had frozen in place until John snapped you out of it, coming up behind you with a hand snaking around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Whatcha got, love?" He whistled when you showed him.

"The condition those are in, you could get a pretty penny. I didn't know you collected vinyl, I'd have bought a player."

"They're not... mine." You explained, as briefly as possible, that they were your ex's and must have gotten mixed up in your stuff when you split several years ago. He hummed in understanding.

"Right, then. To the garbage with it?"

It was the logical solution. He hadn't asked after them, so he must not miss them that badly. You would rather lie down in traffic than have any contact with him. But John's comment about their value stopped you from throwing them onto the "Trash" pile. Damn your too-kind heart, always causing problems.

It was easy enough to find your ex's contact info; you had changed your number after the split, he hadn't. Soon enough, you had agreed on a time for him to swing by and grab the stuff when he was free. The rest of moving made the days go by in a blur of organizing and unpacking and bickering over where the toaster should go and which wall to mount the TV on. That is, until you looked at your calendar and realized that it was today. This afternoon was the interaction you'd spent the week trying not to think about. You'd stepped around the box of his things all week, mentally blocking out why it was sitting in the front hall. You'd managed to stay busy, and bury your anxiety in the endless tasks that come with setting up a new home.

But time had run out, and in mere hours you were going to be face to face with someone you had once sworn never to see again. The realization made the room feel too small, made the air feel too warm, made you feel like you were suffocating. Suddenly you just had to get out.

"We need... yogurt." You blurted, walking too quickly and too loudly into the foyer to grab your keys.

"Yogurt? Right now?" John called from the kitchen.

"Yes, right now! For... for a recipe," you mustered, hoping you sounded convincing. This had been a mistake, a huge mistake, and your brain was screaming RUN! RUN! RUN! as loudly as it could. Hand on the doorknob, however, you froze. If you left, John would be here when your ex arrived. He'd answer the door, introduce himself, and hand off the items. Shouldn't that be ideal? No contact between you and him, simple and easy. But rather than provide relief, the thought made you sick to your stomach. It felt like a defiling almost, to think of him entering your new sanctuary and meeting the love you thought you'd never have. It felt wrong on every level, and your feet rooted to the spot in agreement.

"Still here, love?" John came into view, the book he'd been reading in hand, finger acting as a bookmark. "I was thinking, I could go if you wanted. Just text me what we need. Don't you have someone coming by?"

Yes - that's it, you thought. Have John go, get him away from here before he could arrive. You'd handle it on your own; you'd done it before.

Nodding, you stepped aside, slipping your shoes off next to the door. John put his book down and approached, taking your place and grabbing his keys off the hook. He turned to kiss your forehead, but stopped short and stared at you. He noticed for the first time that you were fidgety, as if anxious for him to leave when usually it was the exact opposite. His ever-observant eyes spent several seconds taking you in, and you knew as he asked the question that he already knew the answer.

"Everything alright?"

Of course it was! How silly to think otherwise! You began playing it off, the same way you had gotten so good at doing back when you and he were still together and your friends would ask you the same thing. Just hyper, just busy, just this, just that, always an excuse to avoid saying "I'm afraid." Afraid of what mood he'd be in, afraid of what awaited you when you two would be alone later. Fear you hadn't felt in a long time, but could feel now just as bone-deep as it had been back then. As if your body had stored it as muscle memory just in case this day came.

"Are you nervous about something?" It was another question you could tell he already knew the answer to, and you wanted to feel irked about it, but looking into those eyes you suddenly just felt tired. Tired of carrying the fear and the uncertainty alone. So you exhaled for a long time, and slowly told him exactly what you were nervous about.

It felt good to get it off your chest. Until now, no one had ever known the extent of what had gone on. You expected John to explode into some fit of hyper-masculine protectiveness like guys on TV, but he didn't. He listened to you talk, and then he nodded and sat on the couch, reopening his book on his lap.

"What are you doing?" You eyed him suspiciously, unable to believe that that was the end of the conversation.

"Well, I'm waiting right here. And when this lad knocks, I'm going to answer the door and have a little chat with him."

#who would have thought I'd get wordy writing about Price #it's my older man kink #can you tell the writer juices flowed as I kept writing #mwii headcannons #task force 141 #141 headcanons #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #no use of y/n #ghost mwii #soap mwii #gaz mwii #price mwii

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the-possum-writes · 10 months

Note

could you do a detailed smut/fluff with adult!Finn after reader has been away on an adventure?

Long time no see 🔞

❥Character: Finn Mertens

❥Tags: NS/FW, gender neutral reader, private parts aren't specified, Face sitting, Oral, Established Relationship, Fluff, Vanilla, No beta,

❥Synopsis: Coming back to Finn after spending months climbing through snow covered mountains. As much as you love traveling, you love him even more.

❥Wordcount: 2400

❥Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards @foxpearlwilder

With the treefrort being no taller than a sapling it made it harder to find Finn's mobile home with how much he loves to move around without telling you, but the again, you can't say no to a challenge.

The air is humid, and the sky grows gloomier as clouds block off the day's final rays of sunlight. The trinkets on your backpack clink together as you hike uphill toward the parked metallic trailer, where the candy horses are already preparing for sleep; any doubts about no one being home are thrown out the window when orange light shines behind the solitary door. A single knock is made while speaking clearly. "Sir Mertens, we've come to discuss your expired warranty," you say as solemnly as you can.

Footsteps approach you as a muffled voice talks from inside the trailer. "A warranty? But I paid choose goose years ago." When the door finally opened, Finn was shocked to see you instead of some unscrupulous lawyer. Even in this temperature, he is dressed in just a pair of faded gray tank top and a pair of denim shorts. He is just as you remember, tall, chubby, but neither too skinny nor excessively jacked up, and his blond beard matches the blond hairs on his head that aren't covered by his customary bear hat. However, he appears to be immune to the autumn season since when he greeted you with a bear hug, you felt firsthand how naturally warm he truly is, with his body heat surrounding you even through the layer of clothes you dressed yourself for travels.

After a minute of hugging you, he laughs in your ear and releases you. "I should've known better; lawyers wouldn't bother trekking up this steep hill just to charge me with a stupid warrant."

"You obviously never met a lawyer then, they're more relentless than a honey badger with a grudge." you point out. This gained another laugh from Finn, "Come inside! you look like you've fought one yourself."

And he wasn't lying, expeditions didn't really leave you looking fresh like a cabbage.

As you step inside his cozy trailer you soon realize why Finn was dressed in light clothes, it's just as warm as he is with the orange lights coming from a heater in the corner of the main area that looks like a living room, a few more looks around the place hold the trademarks of a single occupant, empty pizza boxes stacked together in the trash bin, clean but unfolded laundry basket out in the open and countless trinkets, weapons and treasures mounted on every inch of the walls. You drop your backpack to the carpeted floor as you take in the details of the treasures, some look familiar to you while others are completely brand new. You make a mental note to ask about them later for now you only have one thing in mind as you remove your coat.

"I'mma hog the shower bit." you affirm, not really asking for permission but you do toss in a suggestion for good measure. "You could use one too, I may look the part but you smell more like a badger than me."

Finn scoffs at your jab until he caught a whiff of himself and agreed non verbally. The last thing you saw before closing the door to the bathroom was Finn grabbing two towels from the cupboard but not a pair of new clothes considering the basket was right there, it sent a shiver down your spine and settled in your stomach, but you choose to ignore it for now as you get your priorities straight.

The sigh you release when the warm water crashed on your body could easily be confused for something pornographic, but considering the rough terrain you've traveled through and the rough weather outside it's no brainier you'd feel so satisfied with something as mundane as a hot shower. Your hands are combing through the knots in your hair when you heard Finn follow you into the shower, you step aside to allow him some room under the shower head as he shakes his head like a dog. "Can you pass me the shampoo? it's on the sink." he asks, eyes closed as he lavishes in the hot water just like you did earlier. You poke your head out of the shower curtain to retrieve the bottle on the ledge of the sink, almost laughing your ass off when you read it's one of those '13 in one for men' brand. "For real? why not have a shampoo and conditioner like Jake did?" you snort.

"Hey, I'm a busy guy. Why waste my time with a ton of bottles if one has it covered?" is his defense, but you comply nevertheless as you squeeze the shampoo over his open palm as he washes his rowdy blond locks with it, you can't help but feel a twinge of jealously, Finn could use car shampoo and his hair would still look majestic and soft. Good genes i suppose. Your eyes went to the single hand washing his hair with his other shoulder leading to a scarred stump you've seen replaced with a multitude of weapons and robotic prosthetics but now it's just as nude as the rest of him. He helps you out with your own hair, scrubbing your back and even cleaning behind your ears like a cat grooming it's partner, and yet you allow him, let him satiate his touch starved need with these caresses on your body that don't necessarily lead to anything promiscuous under the shower head but knowing the two of you it's just a matter of time. He's the first to walk out of the bathroom, handing you your towel as he dries out his long hair in his bedroom. While you follow behind his steps it's like walking in on an undisturbed nymph bathing in a pond during golden hour, with the orange light casting striking shadows and highlights over every noteworthy angle on his body, from his sturdy thighs to his firm shoulders and lastly his prominent ass, it's like you're hypnotized when you slowly walk up to him to wrap your arms around his midriff and press your exposed body to his. "So, what did you bring me from your trip?" Finn asks softly while lowering his hand to meet with yours, caressing your scarred knuckles with his large thumb.

"Since when am i obligated to bring you stuff from my trips? there's not exactly any souvenir shops on top of freezing mountains." you jest, resting the side of your head against his back as your other hand trails up and down his hairy navel, feeling his muscles tense down south.

"You always bring me something," he snorts, "Either way, I'm glad you came back safely."

Finn tosses the wet towel elsewhere as he turns around to face you, expediently but suddenly smashing his lips against yours with a fervor you've only witnessed when he's fighting monster taller than himself, he doesn't leave any spot of your mouth untouched with drooling dripping from the corner of your mouth as you caress his tongue with your own in a cacophony of grunts and gasps that escape past your hot breaths. Finn drops himself back into the edge of his bed and brings you along with him with the only thing keeping you above him being your knee in between his parted legs, if his body is naturally warm like a radiator then the growing length nestled in his loins is overbearingly hot, you raise your knee to tease more of him in an attempt to seek more of the noises that were getting caught in his throat. Seeking more from him, you quit the teasing and get down to your knees, kissing the interior of his firm thighs as you make way to the bulbous pink tip eagerly twitching in your direction. You place one smooch on Finn's tip, before placing another, and another until you take his entire gland past your chapped lips, humidifying them with the droplets of precum slipping through his head as you take more of him with a needy groan.

Finn fidgets a bit in his spot, you raising your view to see him lovingly staring back at you through his gorgeous blonde eyelashes, compelling you to take more of him as you keep eye contact so the memory of you stuffing your mouth with his cock becomes engraved in every cell in his brain. Finn's mouth opens up ever so slightly to expel sighs, grunts and whines every time you bob your head up and down, focusing on the way your tongue swirls around his tip like a lollipop. He's so painfully close it has you aching for him more than all those nights you spent alone on snowy terrain, so you removed yourself from his cock with a final slurp and an audible pop, leaving behind a mess of saliva dripping down your tongue. "...ah, ah, not yet." you insist, ignoring your pained knees as you stand up in front of Finn, softly pushing him on his back as you climb him like a tree.

Almost as if he read your mind, Finn grabbed hold of you with a single hand. "Come here," he pulls your hips to his face, stuffing his mouth with everything you could offer to him. You gasp in bewilderment as Finn takes in as much as he can in his own mouth, sucking, nibbling and letting his tongue run wild all over you as your body instinctively jerks back and forth while tugging on his blonde hair. The action has Finn growling from under you, with his own hips jutting forward even though there's nothing to rut against, Finn has learned to become a patient man when it comes to his urges but it's like the build up from months without any lewd contact finally went to his head and has him tapping into a lustful state. And boy, you're all in for it. You remove yourself from Finn's face, ushering the most basic english through needy pants. "Need you inside, now."

This has Finn tossing you to your side, keeping you in place as he dips his head in between the crook of your neck and shoulder to lick and bite to his pleasure. He guides his fingertips to the opening of your mouth, letting him wet his digits with the excessive saliva pooled in your tongue as you got his fingers nice and wet. It's in your best interest after all. "That's it babe, i need 'em nice and slick, I want you to take me... all of me..." he whispers in your shoulder. After he's satisfied with the copious amount of drool he guides them to your already wet opening (thanks to his own saliva from earlier) and slips in one finger after another, poking and prodding inside you as he stretches you out a bit. His touch has every nerve in your your legs twitching, growing accustomed to the isolation and lack of his touch after all this time has you whimpering like it's your first time with him, and Finn dwells in this. "Missed me after all huh? or did you miss my cock?" Finn replaces his fingers for his hot rob, rubbing the tip over your entrance in a teasing manner just like when you rubbed your knee against him.

"Everything. I missed everything about you Finn-" you confess absolutely breathless, taking his mouth for another kiss as his slips himself inside you, with both of your grunting in unison.

"I missed you to," is the last time you hear him speak in a soft tone. "...Won't keep you waiting." Finn's voice struggles to sound coherent as he secures his arm around your midriff as he drills into you from behind, already starting with a rough pace as he keep true to his word like the knight he is. Your cries of ecstasy combine with his own mix of grunts and growls, even biting into your shoulder to add more marks to the growing collection on your skin. Finn didn't stop his onslaught on your for a second, not when he switched your positions and laid you on your back as he raised your legs over his shoulder to fuck deeper into your wanton body, taking in all of his rough biting that you returned with long scratches on his already scarred back, the angle not only allow for deeper thrusts but it also gave you a beautiful view of his gorgeous body. Just like the treasure mounted on his wall, some of his scars were familiar while there were new ones to the collection, one of them being the unfinished tattoo decorated over his beefy hairy chest, you run your hands over his torso, feeling the muscle underneath flex with every movement Finn provides both for your pleasure and his love for you. It's these touches of yours that has Finn slow down from his heated session against your lower regions to dwell a bit in the feelings that have you two in this situation in the first place, his thrusts become slow and shallow, taking the time to release his hold on your thigh to grab your hand and kiss your knuckles which although were scarred and calloused they felt soft against Finn's lips.

The moment is tender in it's own right, and yet it doesn't fail to have you craving for this silly man all over again. You nudge him with the sole of your foot, silently prompting him to continue.

Finn resumed his onslaught into your warm insides but with more adoring looks and complements that remind you that you're also worthy of his love and attention. "You're taking me so good... No one else can rile me up like this..." Finn calls out your name multiple times, feeling himself near the edge as his hips loose rhythm in favor of faster and harder pelvic thrusts that feel like he's straight up rearranging your guts.

"Finn, Finn please...please..." you find yourself begging, almost teary eyed.

Finn complies and smooches you one last time, driving you to that sweet sweet liberation that has you aching your back and wrapping your legs around Finn's waist, meanwhile he releases a combination of desperate whimpers and grunts as he empties a vast amount of pent up come inside your tight little hole that rushes out from around him and leaks into his bed sheets. The blow up has Finn crashing down on you, needing to tap him in the arm to remind him he's crushing you.

"My bad." he rolls sideways but not without pulling your against him, as he closes his eyes to take in the feeling of you body against his no matter how sweaty the two of you are.

You in return, appreciate his peaceful face from up close. To the scar on his cheek from the beard scattered over his lower jaw, he's marvelous, not to mention when he finally opens his eyes to look at you with those glistening pools of blue. "Like what you see?" he jokes, smiling at you despite the few missing teeth.

"Very much," you place a kiss on his nose, watching him scrunch it a bit.

"Well, if you stay for the weekend i can make it worth your time before you go back to mountain climbing." he states, which has you reconsidering.

"Hmm, actually i think I'll take an indefinite hiatus from traveling. Or atleast until i can get you something better than this dinosaur tooth i brought you." you accidentally slip up which has Finn sitting up with a knowing laugh of victory.

"Hah! I knew you brought me something!"

#adventure time x reader #finn mertens x reader #finn the human #finn the human x reader #reader insert

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1800jjbarnes · 1 year

Text

𝐈 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : Turns out being snowed in with your crush was a blessing in disguise.

『Word count』 : 788

Paring: Avengers!Bucky x Avengers!Reader

[Warnings] : The reader gets hurt, Bucky is hopelessly in love, some angsty in your feels but overall just one big sob fest.

Masterlist | Navigation

It was just one hit after another. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. It was supposed to be a great Christmas. You had planned on making it back to the compound just before any festive things happened. A simple mission, in and out, with Bucky.

But the snow set in too fast, leaving you and Bucky racing for a cabin. a safe house of Tony's, in order to wait out the storm. For a moment you thought that the heavy powder would let up but the fifth hour. Little did you both know, the weather wasn’t going to be kind to you, leaving snow to build upon all the exists and roads for miles.

“Well Guess it’s just you and me Doll.” James smiled while staring out the window at all the built up snow. That was only two days ago now… You’ve been stuck with him, and everything that could go wrong went wrong. Power out for a couple hours, the water system running cold for a day and to top it off, you fell over from melted snow seeping out one of the kitchen windows that was left opened, leaving you with a sprained shoulder and bruised leg, open top of your already formed injuries from the ambush you had in the mission. Bucky lit a fire in the fireplace to keep the house alight —thank god the heating was still working—. He went around lighting all the candles he could find, making the cabin glow in a light orange hue.

He told you to go for a shower to help your sprain but when you tried taking off your clothes you couldn't get your shirt over your head. Everything was so wrong, and all you wanted was a perfect Christmas but all you got was being stuck with a guy you had a huge crush on since you were a trainee and sore limbs. You contemplated for a while, leaning against the sink, in your underwear and shirt hooked off one arm. Tears breaking from your eyes, you hiccupped before calling out.

“Bucky….Jammeeesss!!!!” You called louder the second time in hopes you can get his attention. He came immediately stopping right outside the bathroom door.

“Doll…You okay.” He held out the door handle, calling out the nickname he gave when since you first met. He could hear your sniffles, and feel the vibrations of your heartbeat on his ears, wanting nothing more than to help you. But you had to give him permission to come inside first.

“Buck…I need you—” You didn’t even finish your sentence before Bucky stepped inside. Concern filled in his eyes. You look up at him with glossy tears, making him wipe your cheeks with a soft smile. He could immediately tell you were in need of help, running his thumb over your puffy cheek.

“I’m going to take this off now okay, try and not tense.” His voice was soft and reassuring. His hands graze over your skin as he pulls the fabric slowly off your body. Your cheeks redden with blush, feeling embarrassed that this was how Bucky was going to see you naked for the first time. But his eyes never left yours, keeping a serious yet comforting expression the whole time. His fingers hook on your panties non-verbally asking if you were okay. You nod as he finished undressing you. Your arm wrapped over your chest, as he turns to put the water on making sure it’s warm enough for you to enter without hassles.

“Thank you.” You whisper, going to step into the shower but you step on your sore leg, sending a sharp pain through your thigh. You hiss you, falling slightly before Bucky caught you, gripping tight on your waist.

“Hey, it’s okay…” He begins to speak but stops as he starts stripping himself, leaving on only his boxers. He steps into the shower, holding you close with him. The water hit your bareback, making you let out a sigh. Your good hand gripped his shoulder, while the other sits on his chest, holding yourself up. He begins to wash you, pouring your vanilla soap on your body. He took his time, being careful not to hurt you. Your tears made your eyes puffy and cheeks red, but all Bucky could see was beauty. Every curve, every blemish, every stretch mark and bruise. You were perfect to him. He loved you so much, and his ego was boosted at the fact you were letting him help you. This moment was sensual, something only two people that deeply in love with one another would do. Yet you were comfortable enough to allow him to see it.

“Doll listen I’m not just saying this cause, ah…I’m currently standing in the shower with you…” He blabbered, a tint of red fanning over his cheeks. “I-I’ve kinda had a crush on you and I think this was the most…uh best time than ever…I guess what I…I just—Bucky stop.” You cut him off, chuckling lightly as the soap washes off your body.

“I like you to idiot, but you seriously have the worst timing…” You laughed, leaning your face against his chest. His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, leaving a light kiss on your forehead feeling butterflies erupt in his stomach.

“I guess being stuck together wasn’t so bad after all.”

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devildom-moss · 5 months

Note

May I possibly ask for headcaons for the brothers with a MC does not speak like at all? Like Zero words unless they’re in a position where they absolutely have to talk? Sorry for late request.

First, sorry that I still have so many requests in my inbox, and I kinda disappeared for two weeks. I was feeling kinda uninspired for a bit. None of the requests were fully clicking in my brain, but I tried. I hope you'll end up seeing this and will enjoy it, anon.

Reacting to an MC who doesn't speak unless necessary headcanons (the demon brothers)

(Suggestive for some: Lucifer, Asmodeus, Belphegor)

(Warning: Belphie's last headcanon has some creepy, messed up, dubcon-ish vibes)

Word Count: +2,600

Lucifer

He gets pissed off by it for the stupidest, most irrational reasons. When he lectures and nags you, he takes your lack of response as a sign that you were ignoring him or don’t care what he has to say. If he’s just trying to chat with you, and you don’t respond verbally, he assumes you’re uninterested in him. Lucifer gets especially upset when he asks you a question and you respond non-verbally (shaking or nodding your head, shrugging, pointing) – even if you’re answering him properly. All of it hurts his pride, and he’ll huff and pout about it all day.

I know he’s like the dad of the group, but if you don’t explain why you don’t talk, he’ll be so childish about it. He might even resort to giving you the silent treatment in return.

His annoyance is eased a bit when he sees that it’s not just him you don’t talk to.

You’ll confuse the poor man so much if you’re comfortable texting him. How is he supposed to take that? So, you’ll chat with him in messages, but you won’t actually speak to him? He’ll wonder if you’re mute and just never brought it up – but he hopes not, because then he would feel like an ass for getting mad.

Assumes that you’re just nervous or scared, so he tries to interrogate you for the answer. At least he’s smart enough to ask only yes or no questions.

You’re better off just explaining to him that you don’t speak unless you have to. He won’t push for your reasoning – although he’s curious. Eventually, he figures, you’ll let him know.

It’s still frustrating from time to time after he understands that it’s just how you are, but he can appreciate the quiet.

Definitely takes advantage of it to vent to you. However, he wishes you’d stop glaring at him when he does something wrong. It’s hard to enjoy the perk of you not scolding him when you’re burning holes into him.

The closer you get, the more he wants to hear your voice. You can’t tell me this man wouldn’t try to get you alone and tease you until you spoke to him, and then say some cocky shit like “There we go. Let me hear your voice. I can be the only one you share those sounds with.” Put him in horny jail.

Mammon

He doesn’t understand you. Even if you explain that it’s just how you are – even if you had a perfectly rational explanation for why (other than just not wanting to), Mammon wouldn’t get it. “How could ya not wanna talk to me, the Great Mammon?”

He’s always chatting or arguing with someone, so the idea of just sitting silently is unsettling for him. When you’re quiet, he starts to worry about whether you’re enjoying hanging out with him, so he’ll often glance over at you, scanning your face for any hints of your feelings. And, honestly, he gets pretty good at picking up on your particular expressions and body language.

Mammon feels weird about being the only one talking, so he tends to ask permission and check in more often. “Can I bend your ear for a bit?” / “Ya mind if I talk during our movie?” / “Just lemme know if I’m gettin’ on ya nerves or somethin’. I don’t gotta talk.” If you welcome him talking to you, he’ll be overjoyed – albeit a bit over-confident. “Damn right. I knew ya couldn’t get bored of the Great Mammon.”

After the pact, he loves that you are sparing with the “stay” command. He can only imagine how bad it would be if you used it whenever he got slightly out of hand.

However, he also gets bummed that you don’t really stick up for him when his brothers are insulting him. The comfort from you holding his hand or offering him physical reassurance is nice, but sometimes he wants more.

Feels sad that he can’t hear any praise or kindness you offer him through messages directly from your lips. He might bring it up and ask you to say something nice to him – especially after a rough day. “Ya can’t blame a demon for wantin’ to hear ya say it. Just for today? Come on.”

If he gets you to say his name (or really anything at all) in private, he’ll beg you to say it again and again. He wants to savor the sound of your voice and engrave it in his mind.

Leviathan

Take the older two’s insecurity and doubt, add it up, and multiply it by 23. He assumes you hate him at first – and his first response to that is “yeah. Fair.”

He gets so consumed by self-pity that it takes him longer than it should to realize that you’re like that with everyone. You aren’t singling him out just because you hate the shut-in otaku – although he doesn’t rule out that you still might hate him.

That worry doesn’t go away until you two start texting more often. You actually seem interested in engaging with him. A part of him still thinks that it’s just wishful thinking on his end.

He needs to get confirmation that you just don’t talk unless necessary – for whatever reason. Like Lucifer, he won’t push you for a reason. He’d love for you to open up and tell him if you have one, but you don’t have to. Once he knows that, he’ll be a lot more comfortable around you.

Levi loves that you’ll just let him go on and on about his interests. He’ll even leave you lengthy voice messages and patiently wait for a response. However, his insecurity gets the better of him, and he establishes a system with you so you can get him to shut up whenever (if ever) he’s being too much for you. It’s something simple like putting both hands up during a conversation or texting a stop sign to signal that you need him to pause.

Often texts you while you’re in the same room (much to everyone’s, especially Lucifer’s, annoyance) or messages you through games. You’ve both gotten lectured by Lucifer multiple times about not having your phones out at the dinner table.

The first time he gets you to laugh out loud at one of his messages, he falls so hard. He’ll be a flustered mess and immediately get upset that he didn’t capture such a beautiful moment on video.

Satan

He notices that you don’t talk unless necessary quicker than the others, so he’s not particularly offended that you don’t speak to him.

Probably the most understanding and willing to meet you where you’re at. He won’t try to get you to talk. Instead, he’ll try to incorporate different forms of nonverbal communication with you. Satan will try to learn some sign language with you as to develop more communication options that don’t require you to speak.

He’s good about asking yes or no questions and remains patient with you while you try to communicate with him.

It feels personal to him that your feelings are taken into consideration, and you’re given the tools and time you need to express yourself. Satan still remembers all the times he wished someone had been more patient with him when he was angry or hurt.

He’ll also communicate with you via text even when you’re in the same room. It’s a win-win. You’re free to respond however you wish, and he gets to hold a secret conversation with you. It makes it easier to plot his pranks on Lucifer with you, too. Lucifer can’t overhear any plots if you two don’t speak. However, he gets incredibly shy when he’s texting you and someone points out that he has a smile on his face. He’ll blush and get all indignant. “Shut up. I was watching videos of cats.” Which is, of course, a blatant lie. If he was, he’d be trying to show the videos off while gushing about the cats.

Satan will often try to communicate with you through books. He’ll share his books with you, often leaving notes inside that you can respond to – sometimes in the margins, but often on cat-themed note cards that he tucked between pages. Also, he would 100% write letters to you. Sure, he could say that to your face or in a text, but it wouldn’t be the same.

However, sometimes, especially when he’s on the verge of a rage-induced rampage, he just wants to hear your voice. He wants to hear you comforting and soothing him as he tries to calm down. He wants to hear you praise him. He wants to hear you whisper his name.

Asmodeus

He could talk enough for the both of you. Although he probably still talks less than Levi, Asmo has enough gossip to keep you entertained for hours. He could go on and on about nothing, just spilling ideas out for you to examine.

He doesn’t get why you don’t speak to him much, and it takes him a while to realize that you’re like that with everyone. “Aww, too stunned by my beauty to speak? Go on, you can praise me if you want. I only bite if you ask me to.”

If you shake your head “no” in response to him, he’ll be so insulted. You’ll have to explain soon after because Asmo will be pouty for days if he thinks you just don’t want to talk to him, Asmodeus, the cutest being to ever grace the Devildom.

After you explain to him that you don’t talk unless necessary (and that it’s not just him you don’t talk to), he’ll perk up cheerfully. “Oh, why didn’t you just say – oh. Well, never mind that. I’m just so glad you’re not immune to my charm.”

He appreciates it when you’re willing to listen to him. Even if you don’t respond to him verbally, he feels heard. Occasionally, he’ll ask to vent to you if he knows that your one-sided conversation is mostly going to consist of complaints.

He’ll text you a lot – often including a bunch of stickers, voice messages, and videos. In part, he’s hoping one day you’ll send him a voice message or video so he can have a file of your voice saved on his D.D.D. forever.

Pushes you to talk sometimes because he worries that he puts all the weight of his stress onto you. He doesn’t understand how you get your feelings out without talking, so he’s worried about you being all pent up. If you really won’t talk, he may try to drag you along during some of his stress-relief activities (spa days, shopping sprees, and I kind of headcanon that he would box on occasion just so he can punch something).

Definitely still flirts with you. However, instead of waiting for a response, he watches your expressions. “Well, if you’re ever feeling stressed, you can talk to me. And if you still don’t want to talk, pull me to a bed, and I’ll make you moan instead.”

Beelzebub

He’s not a big talker himself, but the absolute silence from you makes him uneasy. At first, he assumed you might be more of a listener like him, but after he sees someone try to strike up a conversation (or if he tries himself), he realizes that isn’t the case.

Wonders if he makes you uncomfortable. Usually, others don’t approach him or talk to him because he’s intimidating. So, maybe that’s the case with you, too? If one of his brothers mentions that you don’t talk to them when he’s around, Beel might question if you’re afraid of all demons.

He’s surprisingly nervous when he tries to ask. He’ll bring you an offering of delicious snacks, asking if you want to share with him. (In his head, no one who offers good food should be seen as scary.) If you accept, he’ll smile and wait for you to try it before awkwardly asking, “Hey, MC, are you scared of me? Do you not like demons?”

He will be overjoyed when you shake your head “no.” “That’s a relief. But why don’t you want to talk to me or my brothers?”

You’ll probably have to find some way to explain it to him eventually. He’ll let you off if all you do in that moment is shrug, but his “oh” in response will sound so sad. He’s smart enough to send a text later, asking if messages were an okay way to communicate instead.

Once he understands that you just don’t talk, Beel’s pretty chill about it. He still likes spending time with you – especially now that he knows you don’t dislike him. You don’t have to talk to enjoy meals with him or watch movies or exercise together.

He’s the least likely to crave the sound of your voice. That isn’t to say he wouldn’t appreciate it, but communicating through messages and physical touch is plenty for him. A tight hug, holding his hand, a kiss, caressing his arm – all of it speaks to him just as sweetly.

Belphegor

It takes him longer than it should to realize you don’t talk. Partly because of this, he’s pretty chill about it at first. He likes that you don’t nag him about sleeping too much or not listening in class or dumping his chores on his brothers.

Doesn’t notice until he asks you something and you don’t speak. He would probably be using you as a pillow when he starts chatting before he drifts off to sleep. His eyes would be closed as he awaits your response. Nothing. Annoyed, he would open one eye to see why in the Devildom you’re ignoring him.

“What, not interested in talking to me?” Nod. “That’s rude – but I’ll let it go this time since you’re such a comfy pillow.” Belphie would snuggle into you. Then, it would hit him. “Have you ever spoken to me?” Shake. “Really?” Nod. “Why not?” Shrug. “You can speak, right?” Nod. Belphie would scoff and finally fall asleep.

He (thinks he) gets it: talking is such a bother sometimes. He doesn’t assume he did anything wrong, especially if you’re letting him cuddle with you.

Belphie loves napping on you in relative silence. You can still stargaze with him while he offers free lectures on the constellations.

His understanding doesn’t last long. Eventually, he hates that you don’t talk at all. He wants to hear your voice when he’s falling asleep. He wants you to call out his name when you wake him up (and in general). Messages don’t feel like enough. He wants to hear you praise him and tell him he’ll be okay. Reading comforting, affectionate words is nice, but he needs more.

He will tickle you to try to get you to talk – or at least tell him to stop. He’ll ask you whether you would be okay talking to him in a dream, and he would probably invade your dreams without permission, seeking out your voice.

Belphie’s the least understanding and somehow the most persistent. You’ll have to send him a strongly worded message (or be extra and tell him via a letter) or get one of his brothers (Beel, Satan, or Lucifer) to tell him he needs to chill.

Honestly, he’s horrible. If he has already developed feelings for you and you are okay with some forms of physical affection, he would push his luck – kissing you deeper and touching you wherever he pleases. “If you want me to stop, say it. Or just let me have my way until you’re screaming my name.” He says that, but he would probably stop at the first sign of resistance and apologize (but it’s still a pretty messed up thing to try).

A/N: Again, sorry I've been so unmotivated to write here - and kind of in general, too. I hope this came out alright and it will give me some momentum to keep working on requests. I'll see if I can get something else up this week. The thing is, some of the requests are so long that they're daunting to even start - so that might be part of it. But I'll shut up now.

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ronearoundblindly · 18 days

Note

I loved how you answered for Jake 🥺

If your still doing them, no pressure!!! How about Fools rush in! Steve for..

4. Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private with affection?

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

Questions are from this ask game and for the Fools Rush In series with Steve Rogers x lab tech!Reader.

Lol ok, I love his frustrated face, but I will also attempt to include some new info in this since I don't want to beat the Fool's struggle bus to death. *mild cursing

**Dude, this took an ANGSTY turn and I'm sorry-not-sorry.

This, too, is an evolution. Those very early days, you were both so tentative. Steve showed affection by spending time with you—as best he could while so busy—because that’s his love language. Being near was enough for probably a lot longer than it should have been. The exact reasons are hard to parse, but basically, Steve needs permission to show physical affection and then he still had trouble communicating why he was so unsure of himself. Not you. He’s sure he wants to show you affection. He’s unsure how to.

He needs you to take the lead, just at first, just until his confidence builds. He’s so private with his personal life that he became comfortable completely closed off. Each little step is a big deal.

First, he needs verbal assurance, then gentle touch—innocent things like dancing to a song, holding hands, or a sweet hug. After that, Steve could kiss you without explicit permission. He could always read your body language. He knew all the non-verbal cues that meant you wanted more. Finally, though, Steve realized what he was doing wrong.

He kept everything so private for so long, Steve was living out affection toward you in his mind without making any moves.

He’d see you sitting at a table and think how nice it would be to kiss the crown of your head and rest his hand on your shoulder. He’d walk in the woods with you and think about how your fingers would lace with his. He’d enter a room where you were mid-conversation with others and think to wrap his arms around you from behind.

But he didn’t do any of that, only imagined it.

Steve would experience all these little familiarities as if they happened, but it took him a very, very long time to understand you didn’t know he wanted to do them. He took equally as long to realize something very important: he’d been teaching you not to touch him.

Because he held back, you held back.

After all of that is figured out—and god knows, it’s A LOT of stuff to figure out,—you both are quietly affectionate.

Quietly because…

…public displays of affection are essentially a no-no. Captain America is a public figure while Steve Rogers is an unbelievably private man. He’s more reserved by sheer fact of Cap being so f**king visible.

Honestly, that's the long and short of it.

If he could be in public and no one would care, yes, Steve would throw his arm around you and kiss your cheek once every few minutes. He'd hold your hand right on top of the table at any restaurant, or he'd pull you to sit in his lap whenever possible.

The problem is that it feels like everyone cares, and even though Steve has no clue why there always seems to be an antagonistic attitude in the media about you, he's not going to encourage their shitty behavior. He would rather give them nothing, and so he keeps things very simple in public.

He can't win, however, since this is one of the biggest things that upsets you. It looks like he's cold, and you tell him it feels as if he doesn't love you when public events drag on too long.

Steve used to just push through the discomfort of being 'out,' but he's now aware enough to take breaks. He'll find a hallway or a quiet corner (or a bathroom, if desperate) where you two can check in, some place secluded where you can breathe with him or be sweet with each other. That's only for if it's the public crap that's upsetting you.

Sometimes, it's work that upsets you, and that requires listening to comfort you. Most of those times you neither want nor need advice; he simply has to listen. He can relate to most of it anyway because he works with various teams constantly, and there is always friction between groups of people.

Steve has/had a large slew of deaths in the years after being woken from the ice. Veterans aged and passed away constantly, and he touched the lives of so many during the '40s, Steve was/is invited to speak or attend many funerals. He makes a point of going as often as he can and has a running list of families in different areas that he could visit or write to when time allows. It's important to him and exhausting. The frequency of funerals (including those of agents who were young or not retired) very much upsets Steve. The way he handles it publicly is stoicism and gratitude. In private, you listen to the real stories.

Oftentimes Steve feels guilty for romanticizing or idealizing war, but he also knows that the truth of what soldiers go through isn't appropriate for eulogies. It is healing to him to explain to you how imperfect, how mundane, and, yes, how horrific what those men and women went through really was. He heals by admitting some of them were racists or told truly sick jokes to anyone who would listen. He heals by confessing some of them stole from their friends or off the bodies of the fallen. He heals when he can be honest, when he can say that none of it really feels like winning unless you turn humans just like you into enemies.

Operation Paperclip (where Nazi scientist were recruited in order to help America develop more weapons and technologies) upsets Steve, deeply, wildly, frustratingly, because he understands why it happened. Steve is upset at how often he's wrong about people. He believes in those morals and ideals of humanity, and he's disappointed by how often he finds the bullied becoming bullies.

None of that has ever been cut and dry, but the reality weighs on him. You listen. For the most part, that's all you can do. You also hold him. You say you're proud of him. You're proud of him for choosing to be good over and over and over again even when it seems useless, even when it is hard.

Steve is comforted when you bring him back to a very small part of the world and you focus on his 'small' life with you. He actually takes very well to light jokes about how he doesn't fold some clothes the way you like and so no one's perfect. He's grounded in the knowledge--when you remind him--that, to date, he has never managed to put away an entire load of dishes in the correct spot, and that it's weird that it's a different utensil or plate that he misplaces every time.

When you assure Steve that he is just one man, just one sorta-average man, he is greatly comforted. That's a big one for him.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81

@rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @claireelizabeth85 @jamneuromain

#ro answers #ask game #fools rush in series #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic

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seikkoi · 28 days

Text

ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴏᴜʀ [1, 2, 3] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite word count: 10k

“I have not been meeting with Steve.” you scowled behind gritted teeth. Balled fists return to your side. Pin-point daggers shoot back, unphased.

It’s an absurd notion on its own, that you betray him in the slightest. You also know you’ve had sneezes last longer than that conversation–how the hell did Tony know about it?

“Try again.” He doesn’t return your heat in his voice, leaving that to be felt through his grasp.

“Fine, I ran into Steve, but come on, you seriously think I would–”

“Not sure what to think given how easy it just was for you to lie to me.”

“You’ve been lying to me from the start!”

You pulled yourself from his grasp, tossing the bag onto the island. Cream marble and translucency make for wonderful camouflage, almost losing itself in the light entirely.

“I’d hardly call my personal habits comparable to sneaking around.”

Adrenaline does what it knows best, keeping you pliant and pissed. Two things that erode rationalism like rust. The iron spreads to whatever argument you would’ve made had there been more time to prepare. Or sense to see the mosaic pattern here. Time stills for no more than a few seconds–and that’s all Tony needs.

“So, go ahead, please. Tell me more about what I should think .”

He says it so permissively, you might have obliged if his jaw loosened even a bit to do so. That tiny breadth of space is stalked through by shiny leather oxfords. You’re given a not so pleasant reminder of his stature when he's in front of you again, more overwhelming than before. The cool stone island digs into your back.

“Here I was actually worried something could have happened to you–turn’s out you’re searching for, what , exactly?”

The reversal almost worked, really. The reminiscent guilt came back as it always does. You felt the same way for wanting to leave back in California months ago. Even all that time ago in that dimly lit boutique. Tony showed you time and time again how much he loved you– wanted you, and here you were, finding another reason to push him away.

You were so close to giving in. The marble’s nearly swallowed the powdery bag whole by now, for it takes you longer to see the plastic outline bouncing back at you.

Tony waits, hands tucked into the pocket of his suit pants (in a very deliberate attempt to hide his own unease). His eyes still bore back into you like a hawk, and you wanted to surrender to them until their pin-point, reddened nature dawned on you. Then, the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the tempo beating fast your own. The shake in his hands when he held you in place.

To Tony, you meet his eyes with something far more heart-piercing than anger, and he gets a sick feeling of deja vu. You wouldn’t know–his face stone cold from years of practice. But this close, you can see something worse.

“You’re wasted right now .”

You don’t bother making it a question (it’s a quiet scoff). Nor do you bother to wait for the response he’s struggling to muster. Decades of life yet he lacked a great deal of experience in getting called on his shit. All the air seems to leave the room, saving just the few breaths you have remaining in your lungs.

“We’re done.”

You use them wisely, calmly , even, to head for the elevator and as far away from this as possible. Despite the fact your ears are ringing. Don’t ask where you find the willpower. You push past him, rather easily because Tony moves for the sanctity of his shoulder and knee.

Your fingers go to grace the brass buttons, but Tony crosses the threshold with far fewer steps and positions himself between you and the opening door.

“ Move , Tony.” you say sternly, though it feels ridiculous raising your voice at someone whose gaze you have to look up to meet.

“Don’t want to keep Mr. America waiting, of course.”

“Seriously?” you scoff, eyes rolling. “You’re still on that?”

“I don’t know, you still wanna lie to me?”

“How many times do I need to tell you–”

“I know you were with him, so you can cut the bullshit.”

“I told you, I ran into Steve. That’s . It. ” you respond, making another move for the button just for Tony to shift an inch to the left.

“You two looked very cozy outside that bar. Let me guess, he ordered a Manhattan and you just couldn’t say no.”

“For god’s sake, no . He came out while I was waiting and asked me not to tell you–end of story.” You’d hoped that added details would be enough to assuage him–at least to move out of your way.

“So, you decided all on your own to rummage through the bathroom?”

As many of his questions tend to be, he already knows the answer. Even still, the look you give is telling on its own.

“I mean, really–” he chuckles dryly, “Please tell me what is so special about him that you keep trusting him over me.”

“He, for one, isn’t controlling or watching my every move–out of the way, Tony.” you repeat, exhausted.

Tony’s eyes dart down to the elevator panel he’d done such a phenomenal job of blocking, before glancing back at your pleading face. That seems to do the trick, because he presses the call button himself and gestures open arms into the small space.

“By all means, knock yourself out.”

Shocked, but without another word, you enter. As you turn and press L for the lobby, you expect Tony’s irate face staring back at you.

Instead, you catch the patterned fabric lining the back of his suit vest as he walks away.

Once the elevator doors shut, Tony loses his last semblance of composure.

A sheer crystal serving tray by the stove behind him, topped with an array of ornate glasses, is thrown straight across the kitchen where it crashes to a million pieces at the plush living room rug.

He truly does not enjoy your penchant for storming off today or any other day.

Today is the worst, though, for two reasons. One, he’s not certain that letting you leave was the best move in the long-term. Two, you promised never to do this in the first place–you fucking promised.

Another innocent bystander (this time a glass pitcher) joins the pile in the living room.

Stuttery hands brace the counter. It’s of little effort for him to keep a hardened facade in the face of anger, but now that you’re not here to see it, the stone mask cracks. Shame, guilt, anger and that sneaky trickster known as self-righteousness blend up into something new entirely. There’s no pride in this for him, truly.

The billionaire was so certain when he saw the photos. You and fucking Rogers of all people, talking so close. Paranoia and a lack of reasonable perspective means his first thoughts are not pleasant in any shape or form. He wasn’t controlling , everything he did was preventative. This was self-confirmation (and a shit ton of jealousy). You’d simply done the thing he was most afraid of.

Or it was the thing he was most afraid of.

The counter stays tight under his grasp until his hands sport two fresh indentations, cursing himself and trying not to think about how breakable the chandelier is.

Just as he was sure of the photos, he was sure of you . You wouldn��t leave him, you were here to stay, you wanted him–right?

Only now under the cool touch of marble does he realize those ideas could never possibly co-exist.

No one as good to him as you would betray him, you wouldn’t. But you could reach the breaking point he sought so heavily to avoid in the beginning.

All alone in his tower built atop money and bad habits, the chandelier is spared as the great Tony Stark starts to break instead.

That is until he remembers he isn’t alone.

“Jarvis.” he calls out, and the older man emerges from the hallway no louder than a mouse.

Don’t feel embarrassed, the walls and loyal ears have certainly heard worse. Discretion is 90% of his job after all. In fact, right now he’s pretending not to notice the tears running down Tony’s face.

“Find out where she went.”

Tony keeps his head trained to the countertop anyway, just in case. Jarvis turns to follow through his instructions, but stops as soon as he starts. Decades of serving the Stark family is enough to know he’s probably better off holding his tongue. He speaks for your sake.

“Sir, I suspect she went home.”

At this, the wetness is dried by his shirt sleeve, already grabbing his coat to follow you.

“Sir,” Jarvis quickly interjects, Tony’s fingers on the call button. “Might I suggest…waiting until the morning?”

He doesn’t need to say why. Tony can guess well enough.

You actually had no destination in mind. The thought of home felt disgustingly empty, and the reminder that you only still had it because of Tony would definitely stay persistent. You couldn’t bear to think about what you might've done to pay for it otherwise. Going to a friend’s would require an explanation you absolutely could not give. For a while, you wander just as before. You must look insane to the people passing by–makeup definitely stained and running.

A rudimentary pros and cons list is drafted, revised, deleted, and drafted once more. Sure, you didn’t have a slew of loves to compare it to, but you knew the one you had for Tony was irreplaceable. No one ever made you feel this wanted , this loved , this special . No ex of yours left a dozen roses by your door–or waited in the car for hours while you slept. They didn’t fill their lacquer kitchen cabinets with herbal teas just because you mentioned liking them once . Hibiscus and rooibos flooded Tony’s kitchen so long as it kept you happy . Every other relationship was a caustic whirlpool. Tony was a dizzying fantasia. You gleefully closed your eyes so many times that the thought of opening them made you nauseous.

You swallow stale bile and keep walking.

The dusky hue in the sky grows to a fine oceanic blue above you until you gain enough sense to go home. Out of spite (and totally not because you have no other way), you take the subway home, cheeks raw from the night’s sharp wind on your tears.

Your heels clank awkwardly on the metal descent, echoing on the platform. It’s empty, sharply different from the vamping nightlife outside. It’s not long before your train hustles down the track, stepping on to an disturbingly, equally empty train car.

You slump into the first empty seat you see. In a calmer mood, you might’ve bothered with your phone, instead staring into your reflection on the glass pane. The gentle rocking starts soon after, and you work on putting your mind somewhere besides bergamot and red.

Tony does not like waiting.

He would be working, if he could find even a shadow of concentration. All he can think about is you– the grit in your voice.

At some point in his marathon around the penthouse, the small pile of glass is quietly cleaned away. Out of sheer boredom (and latent regrets), he considers creating a new one.

Why would you leave him– how could you leave him?

In the idle night hours, pacing from room to room, Tony almost wishes you had cheated on him. Then, he could be right. He could skip past silly little thought pieces over his vices addiction and fly straight to indignity. It wouldn’t be his fault, would it? He wouldn’t have to explain a damn thing to a world that didn’t care for him.

Everyone betrayed him in the end, even you.

With enough clarity, he might be able to see the shame hiding under all that self-righteousness, but alas. Years of practice and all.

The best he can do for now is scalding admonishment.

And a pinch of paranoia that his own actions caused Steve to seek you out–again. Tony knew the soldier was stupid, but that would be moronic . He made himself perfectly clear this morning, no shot Steve chose this as the method for exacting his revenge. It wasn’t a well-guarded secret amongst Tony’s circle that you were to be left ignorant, you weren’t like them . Really, he’d purposefully (and harshly) informed this as much. If Steve wanted to embarrass him then he failed succeeded miserably. The fact he would even attempt such a thing is the greater offense.

Tony’s self-indulgent, not an idiot. Even under watered layers of complexes, he knows the greatest offense lies ten feet away on his kitchen counter. In fact, it’s what keeps him awake through the night. Awake and thinking–thinking about how fucking flawlessly he was keeping everything under wraps. This infallible image he crafted for you was gone. No longer could he hide behind a glass barrier of false separation. Foolish Tony–believing a second chance would come so freely.

He made the same mistake twice. The odds he’d get a third chance were slim to none. At the time, he felt lucky to even have Pepper. Clearly he’s doing something worth rewarding on this Earth, because then he found you. Or, alternatively, God realized what a disservice he’d done by walking missile Tony’s way in the first place.

You were invaluable. Nothing like his playboy flings or one-night stands. From the moment he laid eyes on you he knew his life would never be the same without you.

You promised , and he intends to make good on it even if you won’t.

Tony can’t recall the last time he waited for a damn thing in his adult life (much less to sober up), and he doesn’t care much for starting something new today. Then, he remembers just how much patience he has for you. He waits for you patiently as you oggle every mural, piece of street art, or weird boutique. He waits as quietly as can be while you sleep, and he waited months for you to feel comfortable enough to spend consecutive nights at his home.

There’s a pit growing in his chest–one screaming that his hard work might be swirling down the drain. How stupid he was for letting you storm off. With each passing second, you were sinking further from his grasp.

To hell with waiting.

After all, he’s Tony Stark –he’d deny himself of nothing he desired. He didn’t work this hard to settle for less than that.

In his defense, he does attempt to do the courteous thing of calling before showing up randomly in the middle of the night. Your phone, hopelessly abandoned deep in your purse, rings to no answer. It totally doesn’t make him more irate.

One extremely lonely, and infuriating train ride later, you make it home. You jump when a knock vibrates through your apartment–though you know there’s only one person who’d show up in the middle of the night. Still, you tiptoe across the living to peer through the peephole anyway. While you were not super enthusiastic about seeing him outside your door this soon, the defeated slump in his shoulders gives you some satisfaction.

A very brief, stereotypical through-the-door conversation ensues. You shout for him to leave, to which Tony provides the usual platitudes to just open the door and you respond further with a stout fuck no . You roll your eyes at his continued pleas, and turn for your bedroom. He could sit out there and talk to the door all night like a madman if it suited him, but you weren’t going to spend a precious second on this earth listening to it.

You don’t even make it past your couch before you hear what you swear to god cannot be your lock turning. God, Buddha, and everything else divine must have been busy, because Tony stands in the entryway, illuminated by the kitchen stove light.

“Have you lost your mind ? Where the hell did you get a key?”

He shrugs and looks around like it’s obvious.

“The lease holder is usually given a key, especially if they’re paying.”

The aghast scoff can’t wait to leap from your throat.

“You know what, fuck you .” you spat, flying past him to the door. “No good deed , huh?”

Somewhere between you storming out earlier in the night and his decision to come here (or maybe walking up the creaking stairs) he seems to have gotten the impression you were in a joking mood. There’s nothing but sweetness in his voice now, yet you still can’t trust that you know where his head’s at. Your night had been tumultuous enough without him showing up.

Your fingers just barely wrap around a cool metal knob, the hall light leaving a thin warm line on your face. Tony braces a heavy palm above your head the second it does, closing it shut with a frame wobbling thud .

“A bit rude to run out on me twice, don’t ya think?” he smirks, looking down at you.

“A bit rude to force your dirty money on someone then hold it over their head, don’t you think?” you mock, stupidly trying to pull the handle open a second time, unbudging against Tony’s palm, biceps testing the elasticity of his silk shirt. You were getting tired of constantly feeling trapped.

You wish you’d stay far away, in the safety of the living room where citrus didn’t take you over. Where that hopeless little part of your brain could stay quiet and not scream to wrap your arms around his torso. Also because the door doesn’t move a fucking centimeter, so it was a waste of energy regardless.

“If you wanted someone who’d let you work yourself to death or end up on the street, you should’ve called that guy from your high school reunion back. You know–the real handsy one with the mohawk.”

“I’ll get right on that if you move out of the fucking way.”

“Please, like I’d ever allow that.” Tony laughs, and you’re wondering why you appear as some sort of one-woman comedy act by every man in this city.

“What the hell do you want? I told you–I’m done with this.”

He ends his chuckle with a tsk , leaving you in the living room to sit at your kitchen table. The feet of the metal chair make a discordant screech across the linoleum and he turns the seat towards you before sitting.

“You don’t mean that, honey.” Tony smiles, tapping his shoes against the floor.

“I meant it.”

He gestures back towards the entryway.

“Nothing but space and opportunity to run away again, what’s stopping you?”

“You just said you wouldn’t let me.” You’re giving it your all not to shout, to scream at him for how insane this is. If you were still at the tower, you might not have bothered–far away from neighbors with loose lips and thin walls.

“I’d never allow you to waste your time with someone else. Storm off as much as you like–that won’t keep you from me.”

It’s all cool words and charisma, with a sickeningly violet weight that flips your stomach. He’s far across the space, and the door is still within inches of your grasp.

“Find literally anyone else to sit here and play this game with you.”

“What part of ‘ I want you, and only you ’ do you not understand?”

The kitchen stove light still illuminates his figure, casting a dim shadow over his back to shadow his figure across the floor. His feet continue to tap idly, head resting on his palms as if confused to why such a statement even needed to be told to you (again).

“You were getting along just fine before you met me, go back to that–I don’t want any part of whatever the hell else it is you’ve been lying about–”

“I’m not letting you go.”

That sweetness is his voice is pushed out to make room for pure desperation. The words waiver as they leave him, clearly fighting against whatever instinct wanted to hold it in, though you can’t help wondering if that’s all that caused the shake. An air of silence falls, where he watches you from the kitchen with stabbing eyes. Walking away is logical, but something unnatural freezes you in place. Plus, you’re not certain he wouldn’t fly to the door again the moment you touch it.

“Why me?”

Another short silence and this time you’re the one to take advantage of it, louder than you needed to be.

“And why accuse me of sneaking around? I barely even spoke to him how the hell did you know–”

“Were you not?”

Your nostrils flare, nails digging into tight wound palms. Water droplets leave the kitchen faucet in out of time drips. This is why your fingers shook and bore a million typos to correct. Lying to Tony Stark was one of the stupidest riskiest things you could do.

“I just needed time to think–”

“To play Nancy Drew..” He corrects. It’s not tempered, just matter-of-factly–like a lawyer pointing out bad evidence.

“I needed to see for myself–”

“ Asking totally wasn’t an option.” Tony meets your volume with too much ease.

“Like you would have told me the truth !”

“I’ve never lied to you–”

“Oh, right , you only speak in half-truths, or say it’s nothing to ‘concern myself with ’!” Your anger pulls you across the creaky floors of the entryway, feet tethering on the wood boundary lining off the tile of the kitchen.

“You’re not–”

“That’s the real reason Pepper left you, isn’t it? Not any of that bullshit you tried to sell me L.A–she left because you play like some larger-than-life billionaire and not the shady piece of shit you are.”

You don’t have to continue your slow stampede into the kitchen, as the chair makes another unsettling screech on the tile when Tony suddenly stands. An indignation only complimentary to your own is expected, but it isn’t what you get.

“I didn’t come here to be judged by you.” His mouth barely moves to say it–as even the slightest parting would cause him to shout back and have the fight you seem to be dying to have.

“Why the hell are you here?” A better phrased, more favored question in your opinion would have been ‘ why did you break into my apartment after I dumped you? ’, but the answer’s surely the same.

Tony can glare down lasers at you as much as he likes, he’s not getting his way (for once)–you aren’t crumbling (for once).

“I need you.”

That disgusting, heart-string tugging desperation comes back and it turns out you still haven’t built your defense strong enough. You’re taken aback, because you had prepped for a full blown argument. You had enough ammo loaded up to keep this going all night. But somehow, it’s a heavier three-word declaration than I love you . It’s not a murmur or with a racing chest.

And it is wholly true. Life had him placed on a giant, constant stage. Where he needed to be someone else–someone stronger and with rougher edges. It kept him enclosed. Where everything he hated about himself was reflected in everyone and everything around him. That kind of cycle is self-feeding. A snake gnawing at its exhausted tail for eternity. It was a spur of the moment decision to stop for a drink that night. Truthfully, he had more than enough already coursing through his veins, but the tower felt emptier than usual in his mind, and this career warrants you very few friends.

Maybe it was the flickering neon signs–glowing brand names across the sidewalk. The bustling noise flooded the rest of the quiet street like an overflowing bucket. It was a grimy, crowded hole in the wall–small, and cut away from the sprawling residential neighborhood around it. It reminded him of his life before he fucked it up. When no one knew his name or where he came from.

You were just an added bonus. He had planned to relish in the chaos of everyone around as he drank for inebriation instead of taste for once. But dark red nails pass him the glass, and he finds himself stuck watching them for the rest of the night. Despite the man Tony was, he wasn't anyone to you, and a woman like you shouldn’t have been anything to him.

He comes back simply out of craving. That anonymity , that freedom. From responsibility, from judgment. Tony realizes he’s befriended the snake too long. He accepted everything around him as a product of fate and piss-poor luck.You changed that. You made him remember a long forgotten fact–that everything he wanted was within arms reach.

Suddenly, your eyes take great interest in grout speckling the tile below. There wasn’t enough room for disbelief in the quaint walls of your apartment.

“You’re the only person who doesn’t see me, as–I don’t know, me?” he exhales, running over his face as he re-takes his seat.

“You,” you trail off, shoulders loosening just to earn a small tremble. “--actually mean that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You’re gathering the bravado to say something along the lines of ‘ well asshole you were high as a kite when you told me you loved me and never said it again ’. Maybe without the asshole part. A difficult act indeed.

"I didn’t sign up for any of this." you murmur, trying to quench any further questions and avoid a very stern ‘ I told you so ’. But Tony's gaze remains fixed on your arm, making your nerves spike. “–if I had known everything, your work–”

“You wouldn't have agreed to see me, really ?” Tony grins and cocks an eyebrow that you miss in your deep inspection of the tile. “You weren’t clueless when we met.”

“I wasn’t but–”

“But what?” He sharply interjects. He can’t stand how your eyes land anywhere but him. This conversation is giving him deja vu, and not the whimsical kind. It’s the kind that wraps around the body and stops the flow of blood. “All of sudden you wanna have a ‘ come to Jesus ’ moment and find some moral high ground?”

Tony’s, unsurprisingly, not wrong. You had good enough sense the moment he slipped into that barstool, asking for a whiskey list as if the knife-shaped tear in the cushion couldn’t tell him that was pointless. A brief glance and finger of Jack Daniels was all he got from you. You spent the rest of the hour catering to the usual Friday night crowd of drunks, only thinking of him again when the shiny green bills made a funny reflection underneath his empty glass.

Honestly, you were more surprised no one took it for themselves.

It’s when he shows up a second night that you bother with conversation (purely out of gratitude and nothing else, right?). It’s the second night when you stay so, so much later than you should have, talking to someone you knew you shouldn’t be. You ignored it all then, just as you have for the last eight months. Burying your worries under a mountain of attachment and clouds of insecurity.

You were lucky. Shit, you feel that same gratuitous pang right now. Grateful that he still wanted you. Actually, to put it in his words– needed you. You’re not certain how much longer you could’ve kept it buried if you hadn’t asked Steve directly. You didn’t want him to be right, but all he did was validate every worry and order a swift excavation of everything you hoped wasn’t true.

“I kept telling myself that it was nothing, but–”” you trail off quietly.

“ But ?” he repeats.

You definitely can’t meet his gaze now, waiting for him to call you naive or tell you that this is somehow some huge misunderstanding. He doesn’t speak, though, and you can’t stop your mouth from opening under the weight of everything spinning in your head.

“But Steve says you’ve been doing this since you were in college.”

“That’s how Steve tells that story?” He scoffs.

“Come on, what else? Lay it on me, doll.” You watch a misshapen shadow stretch the length of the kitchen as Tony makes a dramatic beckoning of the hand.

“Why? So you can figure out what you don’t have to admit to?”

He takes a deep sigh that shifts into a short chuckle.

“You’ve been told a very half-cocked story, my apologies for trying to fix that. Trust me, Steve’s had it out for me for a while now.”

“I trust him a lot more than you right now.”

“That would be a bad choice.”

You snap your head up at the scorn. Where you gained this inclination to shoot back at everything with fire–you don’t know. You swear it’s just Tony, where sometimes you just want to match his arrogance tenfold.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that? I’ve learned more about you from him and so far, he hasn’t been wrong.”

“You know more about me than anyone, without running around behind my back.”

“Yeah, there's just the woman you’re still married to, the cocaine in your bathroom, your company, whatever the hell it is you do while I’m sleeping because you surely aren’t–”

“Alright, alright, okay,” he interrupts, tossing his hands up in defeat and leaning back. “Would you just sit down for a sec–humor me, will you?”

Sullenly, you pull out the matching metal chair across from him. As you sit, folding your arms over your chest, you wonder how fate has aligned that you’ve met such an infuriating and intoxicating person. And why you were even giving this hail mary display the time of day.

“Let me tell you a story, it’s a good one, swear.” Tony flashes a diamond grin and it takes everything in you not to return it. It does cool your nerves somewhat.

“Better be a good one.” you respond, and Tony promises it’s worth hearing.

“I’m in my last year at MIT taking this exam for this real stick-up-his-ass professor–I’m talking this guy doesn’t have the muscles required to smile, just all nonsense. It’s my last godforsaken test before winter break and I’ve gotta pass this to be done with this soul-sucking school–”

“You? Stressing about school? Already this story’s got holes in it.”

“Did you miss the part about this guy being a hardass? Because I could’ve sworn I mentioned it.”

“The test was all about theory and it didn’t matter how much you knew, you had to answer it the way he would. I actually had to focus for once and I’m on this question about integrating quantum computing with electrical grid systems, you know how the ions might–”

“Totally, right.” you remark once you realize a science lecture is inbound. Tony’s ramblings often came late and always flew completely over your head. Tonight, you’re just finding it hard to care.

“You are a really bad listener, you know that?”

That earns an instinctive smirk from you, but you sigh and let him continue.

“I’m ten equations and at least five paragraphs into this question and my pager starts going off. I don’t even bother checking what it is–I just hit silence and keep going.” he tells it like it’s a true epic, the sort you swap at tailgates or weddings to try to one-up someone else’s, but you get the sense it’s not.

“An hour later with like, the worst cramp in my hand and 500% certainty I failed, no big deal, I finally check the message–call Jarvis back and he tells me my parents were in an accident. The weirdest thing was I didn’t even think they were dead–”

“Tony–” you start, though you weren’t even sure what to say.

“Honestly,” he chuckles dryly, the bravado in his voice silking away. “I was kinda relieved, for a second. The old man would’ve ripped me a new one for failing that test and I just thought he was a little banged up–too busy nursing a broken arm or something to check my grades.”

Tony’s laugh fades off into a somber sigh, shifting in the wobbling chair. The count of drips in the sink to your right tells you it’s been silent too long. You still don’t have the words to fill it. What kind of words would they even be? Of comfort? Humor to dispel his sadness? If he even was , that is. You gave up on trying to read him.

“Anyway, my point is . I wasn’t ready to do this– I was 21, getting an electrical engineering degree, notice how that has nothing to do with medicine or biotech. So I did the cowardly thing–let someone else take the wheel and I’m still paying for it twenty years later. Believe me, I’m not loving this either.”

“Then why don’t you stop? I mean you still have a legitimate company, stop using it to make things you don’t want to make.”

“It sounds so incredibly simple when you put it like that. Gee, wonder why I didn’t think of that earlier.” He makes an exaggerated face of amazement. “Look, I didn’t want you to know because I don’t need someone else telling me how to handle things–it’s my company, it’s my job to sort this out.”

“Does your job require you to test the product yourself?” It’s a lot ruder than you mean it to be, but it’s the real issue corroding your mind.

“That’s one of the benefits we offer at Stark Industries.” he laughs.

You still aren’t feeling humorous, scoffing and standing the moment you realize he isn’t taking a word you say seriously. Tony’s fast behind you, stepping between you and the arch into the living room.

“Okay, okay. But you’re worrying yourself over nothing, doll. I’ve got it handled.” he assures you (poorly), bracing your shoulders with his hands.

“Yeah, from here it looks totally handled.”

Contrary to the snare in your words, you weren’t a heartless monster. You weren’t playing moral adjudicator like Tony might think. You can recognize this as one of his rare moments of emotional theater, but you can’t be bothered to care knowing what comes after if you fall for it. Especially when you can tell from how not-serious he’s taking this that there’s not a chance he’d stop using anytime soon. You were just tired of being lied to. And you weren’t going to keep watching him self-destruct. All you needed right now was your bed and hot, long shower to put this day behind you.

Tony sighs, abandoning your shoulders to pinch his nose.

“It’s just…You experience things and then they're over and you still can't explain 'em. This business, Pepper, things I can’t even put into words. I...I'm just trying to make sense of it all. The only reason I haven't cracked up is probably because you’re around a lot more. Which is great. I do love you, I'm lucky. But, honey, I can't sleep, not when there's so much to be done to get out of this.”

You’re stunned into silence again. Because Tony speaks a thousand miles a minute and you’re still getting used to hearing ‘ I love you ’ from a sober mouth.

“Tony, this isn’t–” you stammer.

“I know, I know, you’re gonna say this doesn’t change anything but I can’t do that without you, I won’t.”

Calloused hands brace your sides instead. Warm and loose instead of strict and holding. You can feel the static though. There’s an electric heat jumping between fingertips and white fabric that wants to hold you tight until you can’t tell the difference between his skin and yours. You’ll never see it another time so clearly, but the glaze in Tony’s eyes is desperate– unyielding . You’re scared to give in and only slightly less worried about what it means if you don’t.

You were pissed that he kept something from you– again . You still were. The whole world seemed privy to exactly who Tony Stark was, except you. You were an outsider looking in through frosted window panes. Like the new kid watching everyone else giggle at an inside joke you couldn't possibly understand.

But you couldn’t say he didn’t care for you. The most damning part was that you loved him . Whether it was truly reciprocated was another question, but you couldn’t think of any other reason he’s standing in your kitchen at three in the morning, letting the stained brown walls wash out the blue details in his suit vest.

So, you rather than blindly submit, you place a wager.

“Then promise me you’ll get help.” You force your voice to be stable, confident. You meet his eyes with the same bravado, stepping back from his grasp. If done properly, and he needed you as much as he so claimed, then you win your self-made bet.

You notice he doesn’t reach out to hold you close, instead staring pensively into you for a moment longer than you would like.

“Okay, done.” he answers, shrugging nonchalantly. “That all?”

“Really? That simple?” you ask, baffled

Tony shrugs again, the crisp folds of his vest giving way to a stout laugh then a sigh.

“If that’s what it takes.”

Afterwards, you’re able to easily separate your life into three segments. There’s life before you started dating billionaire Anthony Edward Stark, life after, and life when you started dating Tony . They are too separate individuals, afterall. You learn that in due time.

Anthony Edward Stark is a wealthy businessman, arrogant, withholding, charming, and a few notches above dedicated to you. He hates vegan food and wasting time.He's utterly hopeless in the kitchen, with a preference for iron red and a penchant for dry martinis (always dry, you learned this from serving him a classic out of habit on night two). There’s a collection of Black Sabbath albums hiding under his office desk, and there’s a slightly larger collection of ballpoint pens in the trash can nearby–caps gnawed to uselessness in one too many spirals of concentration.

Tony is much the same, in all respects. Eeeeexcept there’s that ex-wife he seemingly abhors. And the designer powdered death he proliferates through the city. And the addiction he promises to hold at bay. He keeps his end of the bargain, though and vicariously becomes someone new once he sleeps a whole lot more. Okay, okay so there's a lot. Overall, he is calmer. The fiery temper is dulled, replaced with an occasional unwarranted annoyance at the most mundane of things. At first, it’s concerning to you–watching his face screw at tailgating cars or broken zippers. Then, you find it pretty amusing, seeing someone so perfectly sewn together furrow their brows at long lines instead of losing it altogether at moments of chaos. Though you quickly figure out why he avoided sleep in the first place.

It doesn’t happen until your third night back at the tower. A drizzle coats the high windows of the bedroom, the moonlight barely enough to see the rise and fall of his chest beside you. You’re deep into sleep, curled into Tony when you’re jolted awake by a sudden movement. Your eyes flicker open, confused and scanning the silk sheets before he twitches again, muttering in his sleep.

Barely awake, you shifted onto your side, planting a hand on his chest. With his arms no longer wrapped around your side, another twitch sends them flying to his chest. His skin was warm, damp, mutterings continuing to fall from his lips–angry broken pleas for someone or something to stop. You’d think the windows were open with how bad he shivered.

“Tony,” you called out softly, rocking his shoulder. “Wake up.”

It takes a few more attempts, each shake growing stronger as you gain more clarity. One of them must have woken him, arms leaving his chest to push your arms away. Fresh off a nightmare and no more awake than you were, he used much more force than needed, completely overshooting your hands to inadvertently strike your cheek.

You winced at the unexpected blow, your hand instinctively flying to your slight sting. Swearing softly, you met his wide-eyed gaze. He moves away from you in the same instant, breathing heavily at the edge of the bed

“Shit–I’m sorry– Fuck,” His hands ran across his face and through his hair more times than you can count, still struggling to catch his breath. “I didn’t know you–”

“It’s okay-Are you okay?” you interrupted, far more concerned about the way how terrified he sounded in his sleep and barely feeling it anymore regardless.

“Yeah, all good, bad dream.” Tony swung his legs over the edge, head resting in his hands. “Shit, that shouldn’t have happened.”

You wanted to press him about it, but decided against it while his voice is this shaky.

Instead, you move to sit behind him and run a hand over the soft skin of his back until his breath returns to normal. You don’t say anything when the shakes turn to muffled sobs. Instead, you move to sit behind him and run a hand over the soft skin of his back until his breath returns to normal.

Neither of you speak about it. Not then, the next morning, or ever again. It just becomes a new part of reality. Anthony Edward Stark doesn’t sleep. Tony has nightmares that can turn into full panic attacks and render him a tremoring mess. Afterwards, he takes a cold shower and returns to bed without a word. Not that you know what to say anyway.

This is somehow harder. To watch him lose control. You were, as most lovers are, impeccably biased. Tony’s life was enviable to anyone with a brain, and yet he was as fractured as anyone.

“Honey, you plan on eating?” he asks, tapping the rim of your porcelain plate with his fork.

You’re brought out of your deep thoughts and back into the present where roasted lemon fills your nostrils from the salmon below. You blame the restaurant–far too quiet to keep from drifting off. The candlelight flickers gently over the small table, creating small dancing shadows of you and Tony on the white linen.

You met his inquisitive brown eyes, giving a small apology before grabbing the cold metal fork. Despite its mouth-watering smell, the taste is anything but. You attempt to hide your displeasure, but such an act is useless this close.

“What’s wrong?” Tony abandons his own meal to question you.

"Nothing, it's just... a little overcooked for my taste," you reply, trying to sound lighthearted. You were never the kind of person to send a meal back, and certainly weren't about to start at a place with a Michelin star.

“Could have sworn you ordered medium.” His posture stiffens, eyebrows raised.

“Simple mistake, it happens.” you shrugged, preparing for a second attempt.

You don’t get the chance, as Tony stands abruptly, grabbing the plate before your fork could make an impression.

“Be right back." he assures you, a cold detachment in his voice.

Without waiting for a response, he strides away from the table, towards the back of the restaurant, leaving you confused.

After a few moments of waiting, a sense of unease begins to gnaw at you. You rise from your seat and, with hesitant steps, vaguely follow the path he took to a set of wide swinging doors. The soft glow of the overhead lights illuminates the narrow hallway, casting long shadows against the walls.

As you approach the kitchen, a waiter hurriedly scurries out, giving you a glimpse of Tony inside, one hand typing away idly at his phone and the other resting on a prep table, wrapped tightly in a blue rag.

Blood stains the pristine white of the chef's uniform, his nose crimson and dripping onto his graying beard as he flips a fresh piece of salmon. He spares you a brief timid glance when the doors swing. One hand dabs poorly at the splotches while the other white-knuckles a metal spatula. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you step cautiously into the kitchen, abandoning the warm lights of the hallway for the fluorescent kitchen overheads.

"Oh, hey there," Tony says casually, an icy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“He’s remaking your salmon.” he explains enthusiastically, returning his attention to his phone.

You stand frozen, watching crimson bleed through the rag. You guessed the chef didn’t take too kindly to criticism, and you know Tony doesn’t take no for an answer.

Maybe you didn’t know what calm looked on Tony after all.

You assume you should be grateful. Grateful that he did as you asked and stopped hiding behind his own layers. You got exactly what you wanted after, Tony, wholly and entirely bare for you to see. No more paranoia that you weren’t enough or that this would all come crashing you both down into murky waters. Well, there was still a chance of that. Only now the waves are crystal clear, revealing everything you begged to see.

At least he got more sleep this way.

You relished in waking up next to him–when it wasn’t from night tremors, of course. You could watch the sun streak through the curtains and glow around his features, calm and peaceful. It’s a moment of absolute solitude you look forward to each night. Listening to nothing but the faint calls of birds and muffled rumblings as the city woke up 93 floors. You bide the time hill wakes by running your fingers along his chest and shoulder, memorizing scars by feeling alone.

This morning you awake too early, daybreak barely starting and an inability to fall back asleep. Quietly, you pull yourself from Tony’s tight embrace and tiptoe your way downstairs for a cup of tea. You forgo bothering with the lights, getting enough light from the shy horizon to make your way around. You open the kitchen fridge in the hopes of finding a lemon, only to jump nearly out of your skin when a sound comes from the island behind you.

“ Christ !” you yelped, slamming the door shut and turning to the source.

Harley laughs and takes another bite of his apple, making the same loud crunch as a moment ago. “Aw, did I scare you?”

“What is with you people and sitting in the damn dark?” you question rhetorically, walking to the end of the kitchen to turn on the lights. You tighten the short silk robe around your pajamas, standing across from him. “I was trying to surprise the old man for his birthday, which you are ruining, by the way.” he remarks, pointing a wagging finger.

“Tony’s birthday?” you ask, confused. “I didn’t know–”

The young man interrupts with a dismissive wave as he swallows another bite. “He doesn’t like to make a ‘ thing ’ of it, don’t sweat.” He gives complimentary air quotes, sitting back in the barstool.

“Fair enough.” You turn back to the cabinets to complete your original task. Behind you, Harley’s teeth piercing the fruit fills the early morning silence, interrupted by the flicker of the stove as you heat the kettle. You feel him eyeing you the entire time but decide not to feed into this time for your own peace.

“Thanks, by the way.” Hot water is making its way into a lilac mug when he speaks again.

“For, y’know.” he adds when you pivot with a puzzled face.

“No, I don’t know.” you respond exasperatedly, feeling a dig coming your way. You dip the tea bag into the water, stirring as he just stares back at you. You roll your eyes and head towards the stairs, deciding for certain that conversation with that kid was pointless.

“Were you not the one who got him clean?” He waits until your feet touch the first step to say it, forcing you to pivot.

“I’m not taking credit for his life choices.”

“Fair enough.” he mimics your tone from earlier with a gentle shrug.

With that, you leave and retreat back upstairs.

The lukewarm tea slides down your throat with better ease in the bedroom. Tony continues to sleep beside you as the sun greets the sky, until you're drifting off too..

When you rise again, the chaotic rumbling of the city drifts up and through the windows in full force. You stretch out slowly, tuning into the sound of Tony’s voice and staticky music from the bathroom. You flip over to the source, seeing Tony at the sink fixing a slender graphite tie to his neck. Quiet as a mouse and far too comfortable to leave the silk sheets, you simply observe through the open door. Unaware to his spectator, he continues half-singing half-muttering verse after verse of Back in Black . You have to stifle a giggle–not in judgment but in adoration. You didn’t think Tony Stark would belt rock lyrics as he cursed his hair for not blow drying exactly how he wanted.

Eventually, he spots your watchful eyes, after he secures chrome cufflinks and stoops down to straighten his pants. You smile when you realize you're caught.

“Hopefully you’re enjoying the show.” he grins, exiting the bathroom as he loops a thick leather belt around his waist.

“It’s alright, could have better acoustics.” you taunt.

Tony feigns offense as he kneels on the bed beside you. The soft mattress doesn’t make a sound for his weight to settle over top of you. Suddenly beneath him, cypress aftershave and evergreen shampoo drown out your senses. You know he’s not doing this to turn you on, it’s a byproduct of his nature–but now you just want to ruin the hair you watched him spend five minutes perfecting.

“Anyone else would be appreciative to AC/DC , or is that beyond your generation?” Tony asks, bracing an arm beside your head to fiddle with a free strand of hair.

“I worked in a dive bar–think I know dad rock when I hear it.”

“Ouch.” he winces, a short chuckle following after.

“Hey, never said it was bad.” you add, and he gives you a questionable hmm in response.

You’re fixated on the way his body compresses your own–the texture of his thumb on your face.

“Happy birthday, by the way.” you say after a moment of silence. To this he stiffens, his gentle expression changing in the same way.

“Hmm, guess that is today.” he muses.

“I take it you haven’t been downstairs yet, then.” you say, thinking of Harley. Tony groans you curse the loss of his weight as he stands.

“Nope, and I already know the kid’s down there raiding my refrigerator and getting crumbs everywhere.” There’s a strong disdain in his voice, reminding you of the phone call a few weeks ago.

He disappears back to the bathroom, swiping a watch from the granite sink. You stay silent in the airy cloud of sheets, tongue dancing behind your teeth. Clearly, a moment of silence is too telling for Tony. While you're fixated on the ceiling, he creeps back into the room, startling you when he hits the bed once more.

“You want him gone, say the word.” he declares, playfully. You’re barely listening, or really even bothered to think about Harley. It’s hard to concentrate on anything other than the fact that he’s just hovering over you and not crushing you into the mattress or kissing you or –

Your train of thought is derailed when a hand laces behind your neck, fingers settling at your nape and a thumb below your chin. Tony smirks when your eyes flicker to his, increasing the pressure with his thumb until your lips part for air.

“I believe I asked you a question, doll.” He relents for a moment, only enough for your throat to strain as you answer.

“I don’t mind.” you whisper, letting your legs graze his suit pants. There was a small hope the cool fabric would soothe the warmth breaking out on your skin, but the itch just drives you insane.

“Good.” Tony releases his grip to plant a kiss on your forehead. In the next breath, his feet touch the floor again and you contemplate if the lost pride is worth begging him to touch you.

You don’t get a chance to decide, as he gives some short winded promise about returning before the afternoon and exits the bedroom.

After a frustrating shower, and against both Harley and Jarvis’ better judgment (and very stern insistences), you decide to do something nice for Tony’s birthday. Well, as nice as you can without spending his own money.

It takes the better half of the day, and you have to ban a persistently nosy frat kid from the studio the entire time. You feel guilty about not knowing sooner. Then, you maybe would’ve pulled off something more his style. And then maybe like the finished product. It feels, and honestly, looks rushed (because it is), but in the end you feel worse about giving him nothing after all he’s done for you.

It’s a small canvas–easy enough for you to carry down the spiral stairs without breaking an ankle. It’s a quarter to three when you make the final stroke. Once you’ve managed to get the stained ink from your fingers, voices start to flood from downstairs. You manage to do a half-decent job wrapping, which gets you way too excited to gift it. Sure, you’d given art as presents to friends before, but not since you were 10 and those were C-tier cards at best. This wasn’t your best work, though it still gave you the same sense of love.

You call out Tony’s name as you head downstairs, hearing his and Harley’s voices echo from the living room. The muffled words are sharp and tense. You don’t notice the third voice over theirs, or the thud of the feet. You don’t even see her until you enter the space.

“Well, who do we have here, Tone’?” Two rows of perfect porcelain teeth gleam at you over Tony’s shoulder.

He turns to you the moment she speaks, brows tighter than a steel drum and fists tight by his side. Harley stifles his chuckle behind the kitchen island.

Silence pulls new red heat to your cheeks. The living embodiment of every insecurity you’d forgotten stood ten feet away in Louboutin heels. Tony’s stories painted enough of a picture of a flawless woman. Actually seeing her, now that was new territory. Her strawberry blonde locks were meticulously curled, in a mauve dress without a single wrinkle in sight. You felt embarrassed with your undone hair, in stained clothes and matching ink-ridden hands.

You start an equally embarrassing stammer of your name, to which Tony interrupts.

“Nope, not a chance.” He meets your eyes with fire before turning back to Pepper. “How the hell did you get up here–Actually, I don’t even want to know. Leave now.”

Pepper grins like they're old friends catching up. You feel like you shouldn’t be witness to whatever this is, awkwardly holding the canvas.

“Aw, Tony ,” she drags out with a click of her tongue. A slender hand reaches down into a thin leather briefcase, placing an envelope on the island. “Just thought I’d give you your present in person.”

“An email would have sufficed.” He grits.

“Well that wouldn’t be very polite, hm?” She cocks her head like it’s a serious question.

“Exit is directly behind you.”

Some quippy remark brews and dies on her tongue. A small glance is spared your way again, before she leaves.

Tony doesn’t move until the whir of the elevator starts. Harley clears his throat and retreats to the back hallway without another word.

“Tony–” you call out as he passes you for the stairs. He grants you a dismissive wave that cuts you short and swells your throat. All but stomping he makes his way up the stairs, leaving you alone with all the tension they left behind.

The white envelope goes unattended. Tony didn’t bother with it, but you do. Setting your gift against the stair railing, you tiptoe over to it. It’s unsealed–a solitary white letter tucked away. The ornate New York State emblem is a pale distraction for the words below.

ᴜɴᴄᴏɴᴛᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴘᴇᴛɪᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅɪᴠᴏʀᴄᴇ

An agreement for complete dissolution separation of any and all assets for both parties.

Signed by Pepper Potts in midnight ink.

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