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roosterforme · 3 months

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Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.

Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry

Length: 11k words (what have I done?)

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader

This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

Bob was fresh off of a long deployment when he returned to work at North Island on Monday morning to find he would begin training as part of a new taskforce. He was tired and antsy, still overstimulated from being around so many people on the aircraft carrier, but he was also realizing how lonely he was.

He'd arrived back to a sterile, empty, dusty apartment, slept for two days, and now he was back to work. He couldn't even have a cat or a houseplant. He really would like to have a cat or a houseplant. Mostly he thought about how nice it would be to have a girlfriend. A sweet one who would wait for him to return home so his apartment didn't feel so sad. One who didn't mind that sometimes he preferred it to be quiet. One who would let him dote on her a little bit when he was home.

When he was told to report to Classroom Six in his uniform instead of the tarmac in his flight suit, Bob knew it was going to be a long day. That idea only grew as soon as he walked in and was accosted by his friends. "You're back!" Natasha screeched, streaking across the room like a brunette cannonball and slamming into his arms. "It's not even fair that we weren't deployed together. I missed you!"

"Missed you too, Nat. Thanks for all the emails."

Then he felt Bradley, Jake and Javy all jostling him around until his glasses were crooked on his face. That's probably why he did a double take when he saw you. There was no way you were that beautiful. His glasses must need to be adjusted on his face. But he was wrong. You looked the same after he pushed his wire frames back into place.

He swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's that?"

The guys all looked at him with matching smirks, and Javy told him your name. "Civilian. She's Warlock's new assistant. Got reassigned from a different department last week."

"She's real cute," Jake added. "And she looks so familiar."

"Why does she look so familiar?" Bradley asked, and Bob realized that the whole group was staring at you where you were conversing quietly with Warlock. "We've been trying to figure it out for a week."

You didn't look familiar to Bob. You just looked pretty with bright eyes and a friendly smile, both of which were trained on him now. Of course you were looking his way now, because everyone had mussed up his hair and wrinkled his uniform. He didn't mind so much that you caught him staring, because you were the kind of woman who must get that a lot.

"Lieutenant Floyd," Admiral Bates said as he stood, and Bob saluted his superior officer immediately. "Welcome back."

"Sir," Bob replied, doing his best not to let his gaze drift back to you. "Thank you."

Then Warlock called the room to order, and Bob ended up sitting in the front row, directly across from you. Barely six feet away. You were so pretty, it wasn't even funny. The curve of your face and your neck and the way you moved were mesmerizing. Smooth and fluid. Confident. Beautiful. You kept Warlock on task and seemed to have all the pertinent information about the class memorized. But all of it was lost on Bob, because he was way too distracted.

By lunchtime, he had sweat through his undershirt, and he was sure his uniform shirt wasn't looking much better. The way you turned to look directly at him with a slightly guarded expression when you stood made him blush. It must be obvious to you that Bob couldn't keep his eyes off your face.

"Hi," you greeted. "Lieutenant Floyd."

Bob swallowed hard before something that sounded vaguely like Hello came out of his mouth.

Your smile was tinged with a little sadness as you stuck out your hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting the last team member. Welcome back from deployment, Lieutenant."

And then you were walking away, but Bob was still sweating.

--------------------------

For the next four days, Bob got there early to ensure he had that same front row seat. He had a full blown crush. Heart pounding, palms damp, unable to focus on anything other than his crush on you. When he wasn't at work looking right at you, he was daydreaming about you. When he wasn't daydreaming about you, he was asleep and having actual dreams where you were his girlfriend. In one of them, you gave him a back massage, and he woke up with an erection.

He could barely even look at you for the nauseous feeling that took up residence just below his pounding heart, but he couldn't look anywhere else. He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd been attracted to many women in the past, but this was something else entirely.

"But why is she so familiar looking?" Jake asked Bradley at lunch. "You sure you didn't fuck her?"

"Oh, I think I'd remember fucking someone that looked like that," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Wait... did you fuck her?"

"I don't think so?" Jake replied, looking a little panicked. "She's not the one I went home with on my birthday, is she? Because you know I can't remember that night. And if I fucked her and can't remember it, then I deserve to be executed."

They both erupted into laughter with Javy, and Bob felt deflated. One of the three of them was definitely going to ask you out sooner rather than later, and instead of getting an occasional guarded glance in his direction, Bob would have nothing.

That night at the bar, he sat with his cup of peanuts and talked with Nat about work while everyone else played pool. "I guess we have another week or two of lectures ahead of us, but I can't wait to get back in the air."

"Yeah," Bob replied, glancing around the room in case the Hard Deck was your Friday night scene. It wasn't really his, but he came for his friends. And if he got to spend another week or two in the classroom, he wasn't going to complain; there would be no way for him to look at you when he was in the cockpit.

"Bob!" Javy called as if he'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He was waving a pool cue. "Take over for me. I need to go shoot my shot."

As Bob stood, he watched Javy head off into the crowd toward a woman who looked like you. He did a double take, his heart leaping up into his throat as Bradley started to push him closer to the pool table. Javy saw you. He was going to ask you out. A feeling of devastation filled his lungs, but then the woman turned around, and it wasn't you. Her smile wasn't nearly as pretty, and she didn't have the same eyes.

Relieved, Bob sank the seven ball before running the table like he was some sort of pro. But he knew deep inside that he was going to have to ask you out himself or miss out on even having a chance with you.

Every day the following week, he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could do this. Even if you said no, it would be fine. It would be good practice for him. But he knew it would not be okay. He liked the sound of your voice and the way you moved, and he thought about you in every room of his apartment doing a wide variety of things. Some of them made him blush.

He couldn't tell if it would be worse to never even try or to have to live with himself after you looked at him and said you weren't interested. At least if he kept things quiet, the guys couldn't find a way to make fun of him. And although they all liked to talk about you at lunch, to his knowledge, none of them had asked you on a date. Maybe they were as intimidated as him.

On Wednesday, you dropped your pen, and Bob picked it up for you. He got a "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd," in response along with a cautious smile. Then on Thursday, he helped you move the projector before class started, and you said, "Thanks. You're a lot stronger than I am." He felt like he floated to his seat after that.

On Friday, disaster struck. You were organizing your stack of notes at the end of the day when Bob stood. But then Bradley was there, leaning on the table in front of you after everyone had been dismissed. "Hey, so the guys and I were wondering if you ever made it out to the Hard Deck on Friday nights? I'd love to buy you a drink."

Bob nearly collapsed back into his seat as he watched your eyes searching Bradley's face like you were trying to tell if he was lying. "No, actually. I play Dungeons & Dragons most Friday nights."

A strangled sound escaped Bob. "You play D&D?" he asked before he could think better of it.

"Yeah," you replied easily, giving him a little smile. "Been into it for years."

"Me too," he added, and you set down everything you'd been holding.

"It must be hard to be part of a campaign when you deploy on occasion?" you asked, and Bob was convinced he wouldn't notice if a freight train was about to hit him.

He nodded and took a step closer, watching you stand up. "It can be, yeah. But I've been in the same campaign for a few years, so I'd like to think I'm an integral enough part of it that everyone else doesn't mind waiting for me."

You laughed. It was so pretty. "I'm sure they don't mind one bit, Lieutenant Floyd."

"You can call me Bob," he blurted out, eyes going wide as you licked your lips and grinned.

"Okay. Bob."

He could do this. He was already part way there, he thought. Just a little further. "Maybe you and I could get coffee this weekend and talk about our characters?"

When he was met with silence and your softly parted lips, he wanted to disappear. But your expression was trained on his face, and even though you still seemed a little hesitant, you asked, "Like a date? Because I'm free on Sunday."

-------------------------

You were laughing so hard, you had to set your coffee cup down next to your scone, and Bob was basking in the sound of it. "No, Bob! That's why I made my character a Rogue! Because I could never be such a scoundrel in real life!" He just listened to your laughter taper off while he grinned in the middle of the crowded cafe where you only seemed to be focused on him.

"Well, that's why I made mine a Sorcerer. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can't actually cast spells."

You started to laugh again. "Could have fooled me." But he must have been looking at you for too long, because you brought your hand up to your lips and asked, "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"

"No, your face is perfect," he replied without considering his words, but your look of slightly embarrassed delight outweighed the tinge of mortification he felt.

You searched his eyes, seemingly always trying to gauge his sincerity. Then you surprised him when you said, "You're really sweet. It's refreshing."

Bob looked down at his hands, unsure how to respond but pleased nonetheless. "Will you let me take you to a movie? Or dinner? Or both?"

"Yes."

The following morning at work, you were as focused on Bob as he was on you. The sweaty palms and erratically beating heart were back, only exacerbated by your alluring gaze and the promise of a second date on Thursday night. You agreed to dinner at an Italian restaurant, and Bob was already excited.

"Why are you acting so strange?" Nat asked at lunchtime. "You're like both weirdly quiet and also talking so much?"

Bob laughed and said, "I went out on a date yesterday." And when he said it was with you, her eyes went wide. "We're going out again on Thursday."

"Bob!" she gasped, and now all of the guys were looking at him, and there was no way he would ever recover from this as Nat told them he got coffee with you.

"Welcome to the big leagues, buddy," Jake drawled, while Bradley glared at him. "Just wish I could figure out why she seems so familiar. Like it's just stuck in the back of my mind somehow. Like I know her."

"None of you know her as well as Bob does," Nat said with a laugh that made him smile. Before you and he parted ways at the coffee shop, you'd squeezed his hand in your smaller one, and it was already one of the sexiest moments of his life.

"Fuck you, Bob," Bradley grumbled.

But it didn't matter. Bob really liked you and the fact that you talked about your Dungeons & Dragons character for a full hour. And your pretty face and your laugh. And the way you seemed interested in what he had to say. You were checking off all of the boxes for him. Smart, funny, kind of nerdy, interesting. He wondered how many dates he should take you on before asking you to be his girlfriend.

On Wednesday, as soon as Warlock dismissed everyone, you handed Bob a folded up note.

I can't wait for dinner tomorrow night. Here's my number.

He waited until he was home and sitting on his couch before he texted you. Less than a minute later, you responded. And that's how he spent the rest of his night. He didn't even eat until after nine, too wrapped up in what you had to say. Those intrusive thoughts and daydreams and real dreams about you in his apartment were starting to seem like they could be a reality. That's what he wanted. He could already picture you on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan his mom made, watching a movie with him. Or in his kitchen, helping him make dinner.

He fell asleep on the couch in his uniform, too absorbed in this conversation to even go to bed properly. But that was fine, because suddenly it was Thursday, and not only would he see you all day at work, he'd get to eat with you and learn more about you.

Once again, Bob slid into that front row seat, and you had to work at keeping the smile from your face all morning. When you did look his way, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was sure he'd pass out if you kissed him, and suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. Warlock talked about aggressive maneuvering, and Bob thought about your lips. Warlock talked about safety protocols, and Bob thought about your lips touching his.

It would be a miracle if he made it through dinner, but he had to try. You stood and started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, but you turned back and said, "I'll meet you there at 7:30."

Bob offered to pick you up, but you said you'd drive yourself, and now he had more than two hours to kill. He took a long shower and fixed his hair before dressing in the outfit that Nat had pre-approved for him. He made sure his glasses were straight and that he had his credit card. The only other thing he could do was hope the conversation would come as easily for him this time, as it had over coffee.

He shouldn't have been worried about that. What he should have been worried about was the way his heart stopped when you walked through the front doors of the restaurant and directly for him, wearing a pretty blue dress with your face all made up like he was someone to impress.

"Hi, Bob," you whispered. Then you kissed his cheek at the same time that he started to turn his head, and his lips nudged yours. He stood there shocked as you slipped your hand into his, and you started to tug him toward the waiting table when his name was called.

His ears didn't stop burning the whole night. His brain kept circling back to the idea of another kiss. An intentional one. A kiss after a second date was not something he'd ever attempted before, but he was going to do it tonight. Based on the way you were looking at him, he had to.

"Do you want more wine?" you asked, holding up the bottle.

"Yes, please," he replied, because that would definitely help his cause.

You smiled as you poured him some. "You have lovely manners." When you set the bottle down, you added, "And really pretty eyes."

Bob counted to three and then said, "I know we didn't even eat dessert yet, but I really like you. And tomorrow is your D&D night, but maybe you'll let me take you to a movie on Saturday?"

After dinner, in the parking lot next to your car, Bob kissed you. Intentionally. The first tilt of his head was hesitant, and when his lips met yours, he started to get nervous and pull away. But you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and you chased him for another kiss. "Which movie are we seeing?" you asked as you rubbed your nose gently along his.

"You can pick," he replied before kissing you again. "I just want to be around you." And then his hands found the small of your back and you inched yourself closer until your chest was touching his and your knee was bumping his leg.

You were smiling when he finally pulled his face away from yours. "I'll text you my address and the movie I want to see."

Bob smiled, too. "And then I'll pick you up, and we can go to the theater."

This was probably the best week of his life. He watched you pull out of the parking lot, and you waved to him through your window after you blew him a kiss. He went home and thought about what he might be able to cook for date number four. Perhaps you'd want to do the movie on Saturday and then have dinner at his place on Sunday? He'd figure it out. Either way, he was excited for more.

"A third date?" Nat asked on Friday when everyone was taking a break in the classroom. "Damn, Bob."

He eyed you where you stood talking quietly with Warlock, and you glanced his way, a soft smile on your lips. "I really like her. She's different. In a good way. And she makes me feel comfortable."

Nat rubbed his back in slow circles. "Make sure you put your arm around her during the movie. She might be expecting it. But if she doesn't snuggle against you, then you should remove it."

He nodded and swallowed. "Right. I can do that. Is it too soon to invite her over to my apartment for dinner?"

"I don't think so," she replied softly. "And maybe you should buy some condoms."

Bob's cheeks immediately flushed, but he didn't mind too much, since it was just Nat. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"She seems sweet. Just tell her what you're feeling when the time comes."

Now everything was making Bob a little nervous as he drove through your neighborhood on Saturday night. He passed modern beachfront house after modern beachfront house, and then his GPS told him he had arrived. He saw your car in the driveway, but the house was gorgeous and must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you had a roommate?

He parked his old truck and headed up the sidewalk with butterflies in his stomach and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You opened the door before he even knocked, and then you were in his arms and invading his senses. "Are those for me?" you asked, kissing his cheek and poking the flowers.

"Yes," he whispered, silently begging you to let him hold you for a few more seconds while he caught his breath and got himself under control. You turned him on in every way, and he'd never encountered this before.

Your soft voice next to his ear as you chuckled and said, "Thanks, Bob," was not helping. You led him inside, and your house was incredible. There were no signs of a roommate, but there was a view of the ocean from the windows along the back of the house. He watched you bend in your little dress to find a vase for the flowers, and he felt completely overwhelmed.

"Ready to go?" you asked, reaching for his hand a minute later. Your eyes were eager and sincere as you gazed up at him. Your fingers were laced with his, and Bob realized if he wanted to get to the next step with you, he needed to get through tonight.

"Yes." He kissed your lips softly, and you leaned against his arm as he walked you out to his truck.

You spent the drive to the movie theater telling him all about your Friday night playing Dungeons & Dragons, and of course Bob felt more relaxed. He bought the tickets, and you got the popcorn, and when he put his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled against him, so he kept it there. By the end of the movie, the empty popcorn bucket was on the floor, and you had your palm resting on his thigh.

"Did you like it?" you asked softly while the end credits scrolled.

"Yes, I liked it," he promised, accepting another of your kisses.

"It's still early. Want to grab a drink somewhere?"

Bob really only knew one place, because he spent an awful lot of his free time there. "Should we hit up the Hard Deck? And then I can take you home and hopefully get another goodnight kiss?"

You had one eyebrow raised as you considered him. "Even after the third date? You're not going to try to make a move?"

Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he muttered, "Not yet." And then your lips were all over his like he'd answered your questions correctly, even though he felt like his thoughts on the matter were actually probably wrong according to most people.

Eventually the two of you made your way to the bar, but visiting the Hard Deck was a mistake that he didn't see coming. You were tucked perfectly against his side as Bob walked across the parking lot and listened to you tell him how much you liked working for Admiral Bates. Then you ordered two vodka sodas, and Bob had to pluck your credit card from your hand to keep you from paying for them.

"Hey!" you complained, but he just smiled.

"I'll give it back later." He was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek, this one very close to his lips.

"Well, look who's here," Jake drawled obnoxiously over the music from the jukebox and the noise from the crowd. "Bob and his friend."

You rolled your eyes and laughed, but you kept one hand linked with his as the drinks were set down. "Should we say hi to your friends?" you asked, and Bob nodded even though he really wanted to just find a small table on the other side of the room. But Nat looked excited, and the other guys looked annoyed, so Bob thought a short detour might be fun.

"Hey," Bob greeted everyone as you sipped your drink.

"How was the movie?" Nat asked, elbowing Bradley in the side before he could say anything.

"Pretty good," you replied. "You know, for one of those Academy Award bait films."

Bob laughed and looked at you. "I liked it a lot, actually." Or maybe he just liked sitting with his arm around you for two hours at a time, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone else.

Javy tapped a pool cue on the ground and asked, "Do you like to see a lot of movies?"

You nodded with a bit of an apprehensive look on your face that had Bob just about ready to pull you over to the table that another couple was vacating. "Yeah... I like films," you replied softly.

And then Jake's jaw dropped open and he slapped the edge of the pool table. "Oh my god!" His green eyes were wide as he looked you up and down from head to toe with a smirk that made Bob want to stand in front of you. "That's why you look so familiar! You're Roxy Luxxe."

"Oh, fuck," Javy said as he dropped the pool cue on Nat's foot, and Bradley choked on his beer.

But Bob just stood there and watched your posture stiffen and the look of apprehension on your face grow. "Who?" he asked softly, but you wouldn't meet his eyes.

"She's a porn star, Bob!" Jake said a little too loudly as he hooted. "A very memorable one, too. Played up different movie genres. Everyone I Did Last Summer. Sisterhood of the Traveling Sluts. Laid in Manhattan. Some real classics!"

"I retired," you said firmly, holding eye contact with Jake even though your voice sounded strained. "I left the industry five years ago."

"Guys," Nat said with a warning tone as she looked at Bob who was frozen in place, his head swarming with wild thoughts. An adult film star? You? But you worked at Top Gun and played D&D and liked scones. You went on three dates with Bob of all people.

Now Nat was physically moving Javy, Bradley and Jake back toward the game of pool, snapping her fingers at them as they continued to ogle you in your pretty dress. "So..." you whispered, turning toward Bob, looking anywhere but at his face. "That was... yeah..."

He had no idea what to say right now, and the longer he went without saying anything, the worse he felt inside. You used to have a job making adult films? Bob couldn't even handle watching those without blushing and stuttering. You must have had sex with dozens and dozens of different men and probably women too, and Bob suddenly realized he could go home and watch them for himself if he really wanted.

"Right," you said, finally looking at him as your eyes started to fill with tears. "Well... no hard feelings, Bob. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then you set your drink down, covered your mouth with one hand and made a beeline for the door.

Bob looked at the drink in his hand, and then at the one you set down. He left his on the table next to yours and followed you out to the parking lot. He looked around, calling your name and checking to see if you were by his truck, but you didn't respond. You were gone.

Roxy Luxxe. That name was made up, and he didn't think it suited you as well as your real name. That one was perfect, and he liked it. He liked you. He could drive back to your house, but if you didn't want to talk to him, then what was the point? He'd already embarrassed himself by clamming up. But even worse, he thought he might have embarrassed you.

"Damn it," he muttered, angry at Jake and all of them for making you feel small, and angry at himself, too. He got in his truck and drove himself home.

----------------------------

Well. You got three perfect dates before it all blew up in your face. Three amazing dates with Bob who was going to look at you like you were no longer worthy of his time now. Sure, you would have told him eventually. After another date or two, you would have brought it up in such a way that perhaps could have been a little bit more flattering or at least slightly tasteful. But of course you should have been expecting this. It wasn't the first time. Getting older only did so much for your face, and it didn't matter how much you changed your hair and makeup: Once Roxy Luxxe, always Roxy Luxxe.

You really thought none of them recognized you. It was almost refreshing that Bob had never heard of your alter ego. He probably never saw a single video of you having sex with Sam Slick or Dickie Divine. He didn't know exactly what your tits looked like, because you'd never taken your shirt off for him in person. He didn't know how you sounded when you faked an orgasm. As you ran down the block and got an Uber, you could hear Bob calling for you.

You weren't ashamed or embarrassed. You were not. This was your life, and you made every decision along the way for yourself. Nobody else. You put yourself through school. You bought the house of your dreams. You had an amazing job at Top Gun now for fuck's sake. But Bob was the first guy you met in a long time who made you think you could have a relationship with someone who wouldn't judge you for your past.

You walked from your Uber into your house and kicked your shoes across the entryway. More tears were filling your eyes, but you didn't want to cry again. Not over this. "But he was sweet," you whispered to your reflection in the hall mirror. His friends were kind of assholes, but he wasn't. Even if he didn't want to be with you now, which was understandable, those three dates were something else. Dungeons & Dragons discussions and coffee and pasta.

You sighed wistfully at the flowers in your kitchen. Maybe a few more years and you'd look even less like Roxy Luxxe. That might make things easier to navigate. You made yourself a cup of tea and grabbed some crackers and sat out on your back deck where the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. The way Bob had wrapped his arm around you during the movie made it easy to imagine him here with you, keeping you warm. Instead you grabbed a blanket and snuggled in as you thought about how he would have been an excellent boyfriend.

"You win some, you lose some," you told the night sky. If he was bothered by your past which you had designed so you could have a future, then he wasn't the one for you. You fell asleep outside in your dress, and the rising sun eventually woke you up. When you stretched and stood, the chilly air sent you running inside and toward your shower.

The memories of last night were hanging out in the periphery of your mind. Going to work tomorrow was going to be awful. If you didn't like Admiral Bates so much, you'd request to work under someone else. But then again, why should you have to go to work feeling bad? Yeah, it was going to sting to see Bob, but it was still your job, and you deserved to be happy.

You showered and took your time until all of your skin felt fresh and new, and then you threw on some oversized sweats after you moisturized. After breakfast, you could see if one of your friends from D&D was free to hang out. You were finally just about to check your phone to see if Bob had attempted to reach you when you heard a knock at your door.

Bob's truck was parked in your driveway just behind your car. You could see it through the front window. According to your phone, he tried to call you twice, and he'd send you a handful of texts. But now he was here and knocking again. It was obvious you were home, so you wrenched your front door open and stood before him with your chin held high.

"What do you need?" you asked, already feeling weak at the sight of his pretty blue eyes and his glasses.

"Hi," he said softly, just staring at you. He looked exhausted, like maybe he hadn't slept. Then he fumbled around in his jeans pocket and pulled out your credit card. "This is yours."

You plucked it from his hand and started to close the door. "Thanks for returning it. I'll see you at work."

Then he said your name. Your real name. "Wait. Please?"

You pressed your lips together. "What do you want, Bob?"

The soft rise and fall of his solid chest held your attention while he started stuttering. "L-Look. I'm really sorry about last night."

You nodded. "Me too." It wasn't like you wanted to know, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "I take it you went home and looked up my videos?"

His eyes went wide as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I didn't."

You actually believed him, but you felt like making yourself hurt anyway. "Your friends have all seen me naked. Watched me getting fucked."

He seemed surprisingly calm as he half shrugged and kind of nodded. "So what?"

As you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you said, "I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done, okay? And I would have told you about it after another date or two... before we slept together." When he remained silent you added, "I started out in the adult film industry when I was eighteen. I quit when I was twenty five. I just turned thirty last month, and I guess I was silly for thinking enough time had passed. But last night was a prime example of why I haven't even tried to date anyone. Ever, really."

Bob was gaping at you now. "Not ever? But you're... you're so..."

"I know," you said, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm hot enough to do porn, but nobody wants to date me."

You started to close the door again, but he scrambled. "N-No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're flawless. A-And I shouldn't have let you leave the bar like that last night."

Your fingers loosened on the door, and soon it was drifting away from you, opening wider for Bob as he stood there with an eager expression. God, you just really liked him. And he seemed like he was being sincere. "What would you have done differently last night?" you whispered.

He started to reach for you before tucking his fingers in his jeans pocket. "I would have taken your hand in mine as soon as I saw tears in your eyes." You bit your lips as he added, "And I would have told you that I like you so much. And if you wanted to leave, then I would have driven you home right away and walked you to your door."

He liked you so much. If there was a chance that Bob could be the kind of guy who still liked you with your past as Roxy Luxxe but also wasn't just trying to get in your pants and meet her for himself, then you wanted to give him a shot. "What would you have done after you walked me to my door?"

He was breathing deeper like he was nervous, and you wanted to touch him. "I would have asked you for that goodnight kiss that I'd been hoping for all day."

You were rushing for his arms, clearly surprising him in the process, but he held onto you as you gave him just the softest kiss. "I would have let you have it." Bob's hands found their way to the most respectful spot on your back, and you kissed him a little deeper.

As soon as you broke the kiss, his fingers flexed against your back, and he said, "I want to go on another date with you. A bunch more. But I want you to be sure about me. I don't really care about Roxy Luxxe. I'm sure she was lovely, but I like you." You laughed. You couldn't help it. And he smiled as he asked, "Maybe you can think about it today and let me know at work tomorrow?"

"Okay."

He nodded and let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Your back felt cold where his hands used to be as you watched him walk back to his truck. He waved to you as he pulled out of your driveway, and you waved back with a different feeling in your heart than you had twenty minutes ago.

---------------------------

Bob was disappointed to find he would be in the air on Monday. When he arrived on base, he changed into his flight suit instead of his khaki uniform, wondering what that would mean when it came to seeing you. He'd slept poorly, wondering what your answer would be, hoping you'd say yes to another date.

"Hey, Bob," Jake drawled as Bob zipped up his flight suit. "How was your night with Roxy Luxxe?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and Bob's skin was crawling. All of the other guys were looking at him now, and he knew his face was beet red.

"I guess she was as good as she looks on film if she rendered you speechless," Jake added with a laugh.

"Whoa, no," Javy said, shaking his head at Jake before looking at Bob. "Cut it out, man."

Bob counted to five, took a deep breath and then raised his forearm, and at least Jake had the decency to look panicked. Bradley stepped into the fray as Bob used his arm on Jake's chest to push him back against the lockers. Sure, Jake was more muscular, but Bob was no slouch, and he had a couple inches on him. "Don't call her that again. Don't even talk about her. While you're at it, don't look at her either."

Jake raised one eyebrow and nodded slightly, and Bob released him, walking right out of the locker room and making a quick detour to the classroom. But you weren't there. He ran his hands through his hair before he headed outside to find Nat.

"Hey, there you are," she said gently. "You okay? After the bar and everything?"

"I'm fine," he replied, still looking around. "Have you seen her?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, pointing behind Bob, and he whirled around in time to see you walk out of the tower with Warlock and Cyclone. You looked as pretty as you always did, and Bob found himself wanting you the same way today as he had last week. All of the daydreams about making breakfast together after holding you in his arms all night were still there. So were the thoughts about you snuggled up, laughing on his couch. But now he could also imagine taking walks on the beach where you lived.

Your gaze met his, and he watched you excuse yourself from the admirals before heading his way. Nat squeezed his bicep, and muttered good luck before making herself scarce, and then Bob was standing there with you a respectable three feet in front of him.

"Lieutenant Floyd."

He smiled softly. "Good morning."

"So..." you began, looking down at his boots and pressing your lips together. "I'm free on Wednesday night. Or pretty much all day Saturday." Your eyes trailed up his body until you were nervously examining his face. "What did you have in mind for our fourth date?"

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been so apprehensive, afraid you were going to tell him to beat it, he hadn't bothered to come up with an actual date idea. "Cooking dinner at my place?" he blurted out.

You nodded like that sounded good to you. "Wednesday night then?"

He couldn't remember if he already had plans, but if he did, he'd cancel them immediately. "Yes. Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. Wednesday."

Your soft laughter filled him up as you turned and started to walk away, giving him just one word. "Wednesday."

--------------------------

You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.

"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he?

"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important.

The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."

His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?"

Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.

You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine.

"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.

"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you.

You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."

When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel."

Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.

You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"

At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.

"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.

----------------------------

It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question.

"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."

You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"

He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."

The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."

Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"

"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good.

As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection.

Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"

He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."

"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.

He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him.

You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."

It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."

"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."

Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.

He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."

Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."

He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"

You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"

"Yes."

It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement.

Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."

And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name.

He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.

Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.

His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"

You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."

---------------------------

Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you.

Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous.

"Is it okay if I taste you?"

All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure.

Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit.

When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.

Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."

A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!"

All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."

"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face.

"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."

"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before.

You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me."

His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess."

The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded.

"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"

His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder.

His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more.

You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.

"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."

"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."

He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."

He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend."

You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.

Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."

He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."

-------------------------

Six months later...

After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.

As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher.

"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.

"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."

Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him.

"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."

"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."

"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."

"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too."

You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house.

This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"

"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.

"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"

Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her.

You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."

---------------------------

Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!

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ch4nb4ng · 9 months

Text

Marital Duties

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Word count: 9.4k

Genre: Established relationship, married

Warning: SMUT (18+ only), phone sex, sexting, car sex, mention of boobs, oral sex (f. receving), penetration, swearing, mention of cum, mentions of pussy, kissing, praise

Note: ok i kinda nervous to post this but yas! Here is my inspo (here) (here) (here) warning it’s literally p word.

Tagged: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree @kpopsstuffs

Summary: Having a job that meant travelling and spending time away from your husband made the absence grow much fonder for you and your needs, as well as your husbands.

Work conferences were the bane of your existence. Yes you were away from your kid and sometimes it was hard, but being away from your husband was harder. There was no doubt about your job. Being a world renowned forensic psychologist was amazing and something you wanted for a long time. Sometimes though, it was nice to just curl up on the couch, read a good book, watch a comforting movie; there was nothing wrong with indulging in self-care, you just did not have the time to do so.

The recent promotion into becoming head of the north-west region of mental health care was a big step up from your previous job. No one than you was more qualified for this. Everyone, colleagues and board members put your name up. Psychology was your life, but your family was bigger.

Highschool sweethearts, you and your husband had been inseparable since what felt like the dawn of time. Meeting at 15, having your first dance at 17 at prom. Graduating and going to college together; If you had a dollar for everytime you accomplished a big milestone with him or because of him, you would be swimming in luxury. When the two of you got married, things just fell into place even more. The doubt of being able to help people mentally after graduating from your post grad made you nervous, but then again, you never thought that you would be married to such a wonderful man. A dream job at your local hospital fell into your lap, and your husband became the nurse that everybody wanted to assist them with their care. Working in close contact with him everyday was just another blessing in disguise; you simply could not get enough of him. It was impossible to get sick of him.

That was when you decided to have your first child. What could be a better mix than the two of you combined? The first 4 years of parenthood came with its challenges. Nevertheless, it was the best decision you ever made, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than to share the unfamiliar journey with.

The promotion, however, meant that you wouldn't work with your husband as much, and spending time with your daughter was a little limited, but you knew he would never tell you to turn something down, and in a way it was the best decision for your marriage. The times together were shorter, but it also meant that every moment was savored tenfold. The time was better quality, the acts of service more thoughtful, and the sex. The sex, was that much more passionate, just like the first time he made love to you. He would always find ways to surprise you. Whether it was the way he grasped, grabbed you on the fibers that lingered to be touched, the way his body pressed upon yours, lips lingering on new places. You were always amazed with how much he could do, and what he was capable of.

These are the ideas that tortured your mind when you were away on business trips. Calling him and hearing his voice, seeing his face through the tiny phone screen was not enough. It didn’t matter how long you had been together, you always craved and missed him significantly.

“Hang on,” he whispered through the phone speaker, “someone wants to say hi to you.”

Your heart beamed with joy every time you saw her little face on the screen. God she looked like her dad, and you knew she'd grow up to be a beautiful woman.

“Hi mommy,” she giggled, fingers crinkling then uncrkinly as she waved at the camera, “I miss you mommy.”

“Aw baby,” you pouted, “I miss you too. Mommy will be home tomorrow. Now it’s time for you to sleep.”

“Yes,” he cooed, “and daddy is going to read you a bedtime after you say goodnight to mommy.”

Your baby squealed with joy, running out of the frame and to her room. You could do nothing but chuckles, careless that she was that excited over a book of words that she forgot to say goodnight.

“Let me call you back at 15.”

You nodded, pressing the red cross before rolling on your back and looking up at the ceiling, admiring the off white paint color, heart beating out of your chest every second that the callback was not made. It’s not that you were worried he wouldn’t call back, you just felt that longing you always did when you weren’t looking at him.

The vibration on your chest was extra sensitive. You rolled back over, now lying on your front with your hand resting on your chin, other hand holding the phone as you answered.

“Hey baby.”

“Hiiii,” you whispered, a smile on your face impossible to be rid of.

“She was out like a light.”

“I’m glad.”

“How was your day, baby? I want to hear all about it.”

You giggled as you saw him get up, walking into the bathroom of your house as he placed you against the bench next to the sink. Chan wasn’t shy. He thought it was completely normal to remove his scrubs and leave his upper body bare as he bent down to the bottom drawer, taking out his skincare and placing it on his face. Chan was your husband. You had seen him shirtless 100 more times than you could count. It should not affect you this much. It should not make the temperature of your cheeks rise. It should not cause a sudden sharpness of change in your breath. It should not make your eyes bulge, and it should definitely not send you into a head spin when his biceps flexed when washing his face. Being a clinical psychologist meant having pristine precision and concentration, so if anybody got a hold of this live footage right now, they might question your profession.

“Y/n, Y/n?”

You blinked, quickly snapping your head to get back in the game. It was too late, however, your husband was already smirking at your distraction. You could try and play it off, but the both of you knew that he was too smart to fall for that.

“Sorry babe, I’m a bit distracted.”

“Oh yeah? What’s distracting you?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “you know exactly what you are doing.”

“Me?” He gasped, placing a hand on his chest, flexing his opposite bicep, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his obvious attempt to woo you over, the subtle flirt. Sometimes it was easy to resist, but in this case, it was easier to play along, feign innocence until he truly told you what he wanted. The two of you liked to play such games, especially when you were on the road. It was time for you to sit up, placing Chan on the lamp atop of the bedside table before placing yourself on the edge of the hotel bed. The buttons on your shirt were suddenly feeling a little tight. The smirk on your husband’s face grew the moment he saw the first two buttons undone, a sneak peak of your cleavage making its debut for the night. You stopped there, gently pulling down the fabric, stretching the collar of the shirt, consequently putting your chest on full display.

“Two can play that game Mr. Bang.”

A deep chuckle escaped his lips as he walked over to your shared bedroom, placing his phone in similar fashion to yours before removing his bottoms, your husband now in nothing but his boxers as he laid down, stretching out his legs before lifting you again, wanting the closest view to your fingers continuing to remove one button at a time, a painfully slow movement to your fingertips. Fuck. Now he kind of regretted starting this game with you tonight. A gasp of gratification spilt from Chan’s lips as he watched the satin material that made up your shirt slither off those, in his words, gorgeous shoulders of yours. The black lace bra, the one being your husband’s favorites out of pure coincidence the only garment covering your chest.

Chan loved every part of you, make no mistake. He would worship every part of your body 24/7 if he could. He simply could never get enough of you, but your chest, your breasts were on a whole different level. Chan loved your boobs. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, promiscuous acts or not, if he could have his hands on them, he could. Cuddling, sex, hugs; call him a pervert, but he didn’t care. It was his wife for god sakes. He would feel abnormal if he wasn’t attracted to them. Conveniently for you, this was something you could play to your advantage. Didn’t want to do the dishes? Show him your cleavage. Needed to put your daughter to sleep but you wanted him to do it? Promise him to show your cleavage after he does so. It was a convenient weapon to use, and this was the perfect time to use it. It was fair, seeing as he was using the weapon of his own to try and get you where he wanted.

“Aw come on,” he whined, “you did that on purpose?”

“Did what,” you smiled, fingers gently tracing the lace attached to the strap, “I didn’t do anything.”

Tapping the phone screen, you sighed. It was like, and your flight home was something that required you getting up much earlier that you would ever prefer. You should go to sleep. Hang up on him. You were going to see him tomorrow anyway, surely you could suppress your urges until then.

But then you saw your husband redirect his palm from the outside of his undergarment, which was obvious to the eye, to the inside, a gentle slap against his skin as it dived past the waist band. Fuck this was cruel now. Not only because you could see his hands subtly tumbling underneath, he drew attention to how hard he already was, and you didn’t know what aroused you more: his probaby pulsating length or the fact that he was as aroused as he was because of you. It didn’t matter how many times it occurred, Chan always had a way of making you feel special. Physically, emotionally, intimately; it was part of his aura, and one of the main reasons that you were so attracted to him in the first place.

“Baby,” you gasped, hands traveling up waist and to your chest, gently kneading the mass in an attempt to match his slow pace that he was palming himself, “you’re so naughty. I have to go to bed.”

“Aw come on baby,” he groaned, head resting atop the headboard, gaze even more piercing at the angle his head was at rest, “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I know Chan,” you sighed, your next words going to be knowingly disappointing for him, “I have to check out at 3am and it’s already almost 10. You know what I’m like when I don't get my beauty sleep.”

Chan gave you a disapproving pout as he took his hands out of boxers, a shiny ring reappearing from the undergarment as he took the phone with both and lay flat on his back, sinking under the sheets and head gliding onto the pillow. He was humbly accepting defeat, most likely because he would see you tomorrow anyway; that’s when he could have his fun.

“I know baby it’s ok,” he smiled, bringing his face as close as possible to the camera, lips still pouting, “let me give you a kiss goodnight.”

“Thank you baby,” you giggled, also leaning forward to kiss the phone screen simultaneously before whispering a small, “goodnight.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and the adrenaline from your almost raunchy rendezvous over the phone wore off quickly. You weren’t that young anymore. Getting tired was much easier. There was much less energy, especially after getting riled up like that. Even if it was what you saw while you were sleeping in your dreams, and you only have to wait 12 hours to see your beautiful husband in the flesh.

***

The alarm caused a fright, a deep groaning sound of annoyance bellowing from you, but that quickly wore off. The immediate thought of seeing Chan and your beautiful daughter being the main reason for your sudden change in temperament. Your bags were already packed and you organized your brain knowing that you would be too tired to do it in the morning The smile on your face couldnt dared to be wiped off once you were in the taxi. The cool breeze of the warm summer hitting your face as you pushed the window in the back seat halfway down. Summer was your favorite time of the year, especially since it was the time you got to spend with your family that was of the best quality. All of the aspects of your job you loved, even the times you traveled. However, your heart did sink a little when you had to travel at this time of the year. The school holidays always felt too short, so when you had to travel, the amount was even shorter.

A ding from your phone brought out of your somewhat solemn daze, heat creeping to your cheeks immediately:

[hubby <3] 7:00 am Can’t wait to see you, hope there aren't any delays at the airport.

*one attachment*

Jesus fuck. Now sending a full blown dick pick with your daughter in the car, which you assumed was there, was definitely not the way to go; and thank god your husband knew that. But that did not let him off the hook. It was a photo of him, in the mirror, with his face cut off and only his lips in the frame. He was wearing a black sleeveless tank and those fucking grey tracksuit pants. Call yourself cliche, but nothing turned you on more than that particular piece of clothing. Chan had one hand on the camera, the other hand at the base of his hardened length. He always did this. As mature as Chan was, the times he chose to be inappropriate truly were the most inconvenient for you. A loud gasp escaped your lips, head almost hitting the chair in front as the driver came to a halt.

“Everything okay back there?”

“Uh yes,” your head snapped towards him, nodding furiously as a terrible attempt at acting in the norm, “why did we stop?”

“We are at the airport, miss?”

His tone sounded one of question, kind of looking at you in the rear mirror like you were one of the strangest passengers he had. You looked outside, a ferocious laugh escaping your lips as you decided it was better to say nothing and just pay, get out, and grab your own luggage. The awkwardness left your mind in shambles. How dare he send such a photo. Your husband. It was most likely to get revenge from last night, because he knew you would have to sit on the plane and suffer in silence.

Your luggage was checked in quickly, security easy to get through; there was plenty of time to wait in the boarding lounge. At first you were annoyed by the message. The sexual frustration that had already accumulated from your absence away from him was enough, but if anything, it felt like this was an extra punishment for last night.

But then you opened it again, started analyzing it (if you could call it that) until your finger was subconsciously in your mouth. It didn’t matter how many times you looked at him, your husband, he was always going to do it for you, every single time. The ache that has been coming and going throughout the week returned, and it made you annoyed. So annoyed that you found yourself lifting your butt from your chair, walking to the bathroom and locking yourself in one of the stalls. Gripping the bottom of your shirt, you pulled it down as much as you could without taking it off, mimicking a downward looking angle in an attempt to copy your husband, lips down as the camera clicked, off silent. Fuck. It’s fine. The idea that people may have heard the sounds of you taking a photo in the toilet. You were too fueled with a horny rage to think of the ramifications as you sent your photo, giving in and responding to him.

[Y/N] 8:30am No delays. Make sure you’re there on time.

*one attachment*

Oh, he was gonna hate that. Chan had patience for a lot of things. But short, dry messages were something that made him mad. Serves him for sending you that first. You knew exactly what his reaction would be as well, but at least you could board the plane in peace.

It was around 3 hours before the plane arose from one location and landed in another. The plane ride was painful. You tried to do the things you usually would. Create drafts for your patients, read a book, watch a downloaded netflix movie, and just sink into your non-reclining chair and relax; but you simply couldn’t.

The brain rot that was the simple image of your husband’s half naked torso should not be affecting you this much. But that was the problem too. It wasn’t just the picture. That image was the catalyst for the sexual rumination that had been numbing your brain for the past week. The want to get home was even stronger now knowing that you really had something to look forward to.

Of course, to your dismay and longing, the baggage claim took forever, security had a long line, and by the time all of that had been completed, it was, of course, an hour schedule that you told your husband to come and pick you up. The look on his face was sour to say the least. There he was, leaning against the exterior of your shared four wheel drive, drinking his probably now lukewarm coffee. The tingle instantly came back to your core, feeling like a teenage girl again. The scene was just like old times. Chan, waiting around the corner from your house to come and pick you up. The only thing that was different was that it was slightly taller, and had a few more wrinkles. Nonetheless, he looked super hot. Still wearing those grey sweatpants, and a fucking black tank. A fucking blank tank that was probably the tightest fitting pieceing of clothing in his fucking closet. His stance was strong, biceps, triceps, and ¾ of his pecs bulging out in public, and it was truly making your brain dizzy. You walked over quietly, the jarring sound of your suitcase wheels rolling along the parking lot concrete ruining the suspense of your arrival. Chan’s head snapped, eye widening the moment you appeared in his vision.

“Hi baby, sorry I’m late the customs took for-”

The interruption was welcome as Chan shoved his phone in his pocket, apparently with an empty takeaway coffee cup falling to the floor as he enveloped you into his arms, a groan of admiration falling from his lips as they immediately attached to yours, your body to relaxing against his, eyes fluttering shut at his touch. God, it was only a week. One week, but you craved his touch more than anything in the world. It truly was the little things such as his calloused textures, the warmth of his skin, his smile. Holy fuck his smile was, in your opinion, the greatest thing in the world that ever existed.

“Mmmh,” you hummed, gently pulling away, hands snaking across your husband’s waist, a smug smile on your lips, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too baby,” he growled, morning raspiness to his tone, “how was your flight?”

The implication of his question made your eyes ogle, the visual image of his text message imprinting on your brain. The smirk that developed on his face formed the expression of realization that hit you. Suddenly his grip on your waist was tighter, and Chan was pulling you in even closer, leaving you to feel everything; yes, everything.

“It was good,” you giggled, knowing that you had been caught, “what was not good was your behavior since last night.”

“Hmm is that so? I don't see this being a one-sided activity?”

Your right hand left his torso, smacking him on the chest before taking a step back and walking to the car. It was fun to pretend to be annoyed, especially because you knew it would work your husband up even more. Chan hated when you sulked, especially when he playfully called you out. Chan always liked games, and so did you, because you knew that there was always one thing it would lead to. The longer the game went on, the more passionate the ending to this game would be. You walked into the car, peacefully sitting in the passenger seat as you left your husband to take your suitcase and place it in the boot. Serves him right for being a smartass. There was no sound except for the car door once the two of you were inside. The ignition was turned on, and so were you, watching your husband's arm reach over to the shoulder of your car seat, his head turned to look behind him. This was so dumb! You really should not be aroused by this; you’ve seen him do this thousands of times.

“You okay babe?”

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of this lustful daze, “yeah, why?”

“Ok it’s just,” he paused, shifting into drive, then placing his hand on the inside of your thigh, “you’re staring at me like a piece of meat.”

“I am not,” you scoffed, “you wish I was staring at you like that.”

He said nothing, a light chuckle following as the car fell into another silence. A comfortable one at that, well, to an extent. His thumb was gently nudging at your skin, knuckles inching closer to your center. There was something in the air, and the longer it lingered, the harder it was to ignore it. The want. The need to have him. It was impossible. You knew that even if you did get home soon that your daughter was home, and there was no way you were going to traumatize her like that; kids remember everything. If you took too long in the car, your father would get suspicious. He was one to get on your nerves like that, especially if he spent more time than agreed to watching your beautiful child.

“I got your text message this morning.”

Chan’s eyes were on the road, which forced you to keep yours. Your eyebrows furrowed however, knowing that the street he just turned down was not the right way to your house. Instead, Chan turned the opposite direction, the car coming to an immediate stop at a lookout, but not just any lookout. The lookout east. The two of you came from a small town, meaning there weren't many spots to go; that was until the lookout east was uncovered. Back then it was the talk of the town, the go to hookup spot for many. You have seen it yourself. It had a beautiful view however, and most of the time you and Chan would go just to admire the view, but did not mean that every time would be an innocent one. The two of you had not been in years, and there was a big question mark as to why you were here right now. Chan said nothing, getting out of the car and walking over to your side, opening your own door before opening the back door, crawling in with you following. The two of you got comfortable, that was, until Chan pinned you down to the back seat, lips once again attacking yours as he pressed his horny groin into yours, a deep groan bellowing from your husband's chest. His dominance was easy to comply with, the desperate moan falling from your lips a culmination of feelings from the past 12 hours. This really could have been the horniest you have ever been in your whole entire life, even including the times of excessive sexual hormonal changes during pregnancy. His tongue snaked past your lips, without any slight of permission as his hips fell into a gentle rhythm. Chan moved with such delicacy and poise, yet somehow he was able to convey his ultra high level of arousal. Now you were in big trouble; it was serious business when Chan pinned you down like that. It meant he had serious business to take care of.

“Chan,” you tried to speak, his lips interrupting each word, “what, are you doing?”

He pulled away, sitting up. Chan said nothing, eyes fixated on your chest as he grasped your wrist to pull you up, your body clumsily falling into him as you fixed your balance. Chan was quick to attack your lips again, hands making light work as they gripped onto the edge of your shirt. Your arms lifted unconsciously, allowing the kiss to break as he took off your shirt, your upper body in nothing but your undergarments. Your husband was like a kid in a candy store the moment he saw the slightest bit of cleavage. Chan’s arms wrapped around your back as he effortlessly unclasped the unwanted fabric, lips immediately attaching to your left nipple. A gracious moan fell from your lips, a hand tickling the back of the hair at the base of his skull, keeping a guidance. At first this tongue was small, gentle. A few kitty licks right in the center. Although it was minimal touch, you were one to have more sensitive nipples, so the feeling was already heaven enough. It wasn’t until his entire mouth was attached, a parietal noise of vacuum escaping his lips each time your tit went in and out of his mouth.

“Mmmmm,” you hummed, back arching slightly at the subtle texture of his teeth, “you’re like fuckin newborn.”

“Mhh can’t help it,” he huffed, out of breath, hand replacing his lips for a brief moment, “makes me want to have another kid.”

Chan gave you no time to reply, lips resuming their position, but now on the opposite nipple. His fingers never stopped moving, either on your shoulder, running up and down your arms, but mainly on your breasts, doing whatever he can to feel you. Each squeeze of the mound brought a whine to your throat. His statement ran through your mind and just stayed there. Having another kid was not really something the two of you had ever spoken about. It wasn’t that it was off the table, no. It truly was just something that had not come up in conversation. You could understand why he wanted to have one, and in this moment especially, it had nothing to do with having an actual child.

It is true that when you met your husband, your body shape resembled more of a P, but when you were pregnant with your daughter, Chan was on another planet. Any chance he got, his hands were on them. Call him twisted, but he loved how much bigger and softer they got when you were deep into pregnancy.

When you came back out of thought, and the major distraction of your husband's lips on your body, you pushed him away gently. You followed the sort of harsh motion with a gentle peck to his lips, arm wrapping around his neck as you smiled at him in disbelief. The last chance the two of you, well more him, had been so reckless like this was so long ago you would not even be able to recall. This didn’t mean you hated it though, if anything, it satisfied that little part of your adolescence that lingered. The adolescence that was always sparked whenever you were away. Whenever your calls turned to a lustful space. The photos. The phone calls. Usually the ‘rebellious’ behaviors were to compensate for the distance. But now, Chan was hungry for you, even when you were right in front of him.

“Babe, what has gotten into you?”

Your husband buried his face into your chest, a large breath filling his nostrils, your scent deeply satisfying him before he responded.

“I just missed you a lot, baby. And that picture you sent drove me fucking wild.”

A smirk appeared on your lips, legs hovering over your husband's waist before encasing the lower limbs around his waist, a light amount of friction created by the swift move of your hips makes him hum in pleasure. Your eyes, now sitting on top of his lap, gazed over, looking down on the poor man. There was a slight emotion of guilt there. Depriving him of getting what he wanted. You didn't really care though. If anything, pissing him off usually led to better sex after, and there was nothing in this moment that you wanted more.

“Mmmh, as much as I want this,” you mumbled, another soft kiss in between your sentences, “I need to go home and see my daughter which I have not seen in a week.”

“You’re right,” Chan chuckled, “I am getting a little bit carried away, aren't I?”

Yeah he was impatient, but he understood, and it was one thing you really loved about him. He was extremely empathetic, sometimes to a fault. Able to put himself in everyone else’s shoes. So as soon as you mentioned wanting to see your daughter more, he understood. He passed you your bra and shirt, quickly helping you put them back on, not without stealing another mouth watering kiss, and hopping back into the driving and passenger seat promptly.

The drive was once again peaceful; which lasted around 30 seconds. Maybe it was a better idea to just fuck in the back of your car, because the ache between your legs, when reflecting on the past week, was at the most intense it had been. Maybe this was your karma for withholding your body from your very eager husband. It didn’t matter now because whether you liked it or not, all of this was going to have been scheduled at a much later, uncertain time.

Chan’s hand was placed on your thigh like before, the light background and the noise somewhat distracting you, but not for long. Your husband’s grip was getting stronger and stronger, inching closer and closer to your wanting pussy with each second. A sharp gasp left your lips when his middle finger traced over the hem of your jeans, your level of arousal heightened to the point where even the breeze most likely was enough to partly satisfy yourself.

“Chan.”

“Y/n.”

“Stop it,” you whined, fingers coincidentally fidgeting with the button of your jeans, following the same direction with your zipper before the pair of pants were below your waist, your bottom undergarments now on display. You looked down, embarrassed at the mass wet patch coating your panties. Your husband's hands took a little bit of a wander, but froze almost immediately when he felt that familiar patch he had felt oh so many times. The digits were quick to act, another moan spelling from your mouth as soon as he got you in the exact spot he knew to touch. That were the perks of having a husband, because whether the time of orgasm was long or short, he knew exactly where to touch you to make that happen.

“Your body is having the opposite reaction,” he smirked, “and my eyes are strictly on the road.”

“And keep it that way.”

“Mhmm,” he ignored, fingers somehow able to push your panties to the side, raw fingertips now spreading open those pussy lips. God you felt dirty, nasty. How could you do this in your fucking car? Too horny to even wait until you were in the comfort of your bedroom. You were much too harsh on yourself. It was most definitely your husband's fault for opening that can of worms the moment he rocked up on the facetime camera without his shirt on. Therefore, your humility was minimized, there were always much worse things you could have done. Chan was easily able to find that wanting little entrance of yours, two fingers effortlessly plunging themselves inside, the unsympathetic texture of his hard working fingers gently scratching the velvet interior of your walls, hips now gently rocking back and forth on him. Your hands came to your breasts automatically, pinching, twisting, flicking the sensitive buds in any way possible that could create a replica of Chan’s mouth from previous moments. Fuck, no one else could do you like your husband, even yourself.

“Fuck Chan,” you whimpered, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Shh it’s okay,” he cooed, coaxing you through his honey textured tone, “just let it feel good, worry about other things later.”

Just as you let your head fall against the headrest, eye fluttering shut, the car came to a halt. Eyes flying open, a mound of disappointment when your visual fields were filled with your front yard. To your dismay, your husband withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a large squelching sound in the moment as he placed his hands on the gear shift, placing the toe of your into park before turning the car ignition off. The look you were giving your husband now was one of sadness, despair, making him laugh. He loved when you were dramatic.

“You’re not happy to be home?”

“Shut up,” you huffed, redoing your pants up before storming out of the car, forcing your husband to grab your suitcase as you stood impatiently at the front door, waiting for him to open it. It would be impossible to wipe the puffed up look of content on his face, knowing that he got right under your skin. Games were fun to play, but you simply knew that if he didn’t give you what you wanted soon, the house would fall into chaos. It was one thing to wind you up, but this time it was too far to push through, then stop just when things were getting good.

A fake smile plastered on your face, the refreshing thought of seeing your daughter coming back into your mind as you walked through your abode. It faded however, unable to see or hear anything that resembled your little baby. It wasn’t until you walked down your long hallway that led to your kitchen that you saw the note on your marble bench. It read the following:

Hi Darling, hope you had a safe flight!

I have taken my beautiful granddaughter to the park for a playdate with a couple of her friends and the other available parents.

We are leaving at around midday, and won’t be back for a few couple hours. Apologies you will have to wait a little longer, but I couldn’t say no to her beating eyes when she asked me.

I'll see you when I’m looking at you.

Dad

“Chan!”

Your timbre was loud, somewhat frightening your husband as he rolled your luggage across the floor, meeting you in your shared kitchen. He was kind of worried. Chan knew that your dad was taking care of her while he went to pick you up, but he never said anything about taking her out. He stood next to you, trying to analyze your expressions before you spoke. You missed your daughter a lot, there was nothing false about that statement. Nonetheless, when the smug look came to your face at the thought of what having an empty house implied, you couldn't help yourself.

“Did you know that my dad took her to the park?”

Oh fuck. Chan thought he was in trouble; big big trouble.

You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress your smile at how hopeless he looked. Being the medical professional you were, it was easy to read your husband like a book. And after his actions, which were already on the verge of crossing the threshold of what you would put up with, he was in his every right mind to react this way. Walking on eggshells was the right way to go. From his friskiness on the phone, to sending an almost naked picture to you in public, to publicly groping and prodding at your highly aroused body in the discomfort of your car, to now delaying your reunion with his daughter; my my my did he dig himself a massive grave that he would not be able to dig himself out of this one.

“No,” he answered, hesitance leaking from his tone, “she must have asked him after I left.”

“Right,” you paddled, handing the note your dad had left to your husband. A sigh of relief in the form of his chest falling from the fat breath he sucked in before dissipating from his chest. Taking a step close, your husband ignored, focusing all his efforts on the written material until he felt the texture of what was your fingertips find a place on his torso, index fingers ‘accidentally’ finding a way underneath the hem of the thin material that made up his shirt. The note was removed from your husband’s face in the form of a toss with his own hand, eyes piercing into yours the more and more the skin of his torso was being exposed to the light. Your palms then became a part of the conversation, gently pressing against your husband's groin as you could feel his length awake from a light slumber.

“Why am I sensing that you’re not mad now?”

“Me,” You gasped, feigning ignorance as you finally pulled the flimsy material over your husband’s head, “I was never mad?”

“You weren’t?”

“No Mr. Bang,” you giggled, wrapping your hands around your husband’s neck once more, “Mad that you have been teasing me for almost 24 hours straight?”

Chan didn’t answer, instead sweeping your legs off the floor and into your arms, carrying your bridal style back down the said hallway, bedroom door conveniently already open as he laid you down on your back. A hum of happiness fell from your lips at the familiar feeling of your own bed sheets encompassing your back. You were brought out of those thoughts quickly however, your husband left you little to revel in bed texture, removing his sweats immediately before lifting you by the armpits again, leaving you to stand and him sitting on the edge of your shared mattress. The invitation of your barely dressed husband with a pressing erection straining his boxers was a very enticing seat. One that you took without a second thought as his hands were straight for your throat, a gentle squeeze as your lips connected first, legs cloaking his waist once more, the both of your tongues fighting for dominance over each other. Chan’s mouth vibrated as he relaxed into the sensual nature of the kiss, hands drifting away from your upper body and right to the outside of your thighs, a gentle tingle of fingertips dancing across your heated skin as you pulled away from a brief moment, wanting to match at least half of his body in the lack of clothing. Your husband helped as he withdrew his hands from your body for a brief moment, deciding to, rather than pull your nice shirt over your head like a normal person, he pulled the seams apart, splitting the shirt into two before using one hand only to unclasp your bra this time. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t impressed by it everytime.

“I liked that shirt,” you pouted, “did you have to rip it?” “I’m sorry y/n,” he chuckled, hands snaking up your sides another time, “I just want you so badly.”

There was no time to react as your husband gripped your hips, spinning you around and pinning you into the mattress. His second attack followed impeccably, hands fumbling on your jeans before getting them undone, panties groped in unison as they hit the side wall. That was an irrelevant detail, because Chan was lying on his front, abs rubbing against your core as he brought his hands back to your tits; his most favorite thing in the world. The man could not keep his hands still, mouth slobbering all over the sensitive skin as he began his second attack of the day on your nipples.

“Never gets old,” you giggle, a gentle moan following after at the contrast of your flimsy mounds and rock hard nubs. Chan’s hands felt like no other, and when he had them on you, it was the time when you felt like the luckiest woman in the world. Your husband’s chuckles followed closely to yours. Seeing his wife happy was one thing, but knowing that he could make you feel this good aroused him to another level. His admiration deepend, yes, but it was somewhat of an ego boost for him. Knowing that he was that good with his fingers.

Your husband’s lips, like his hands, began to wander, a strip of wet kisses trailing down the center of your stomach, causing him to crawl back further and further until his lips were just above your core. Chan brought his fingers right back to where he had them in the car, easily able to slip in two fingers without warning, a deep groan gritting his teeth at the way your back arched for him monumentally. The sight was one that he had been craving, one that you craved yourself. It did not matter how far apart you were from your husband, his appetite for you would never change. If he wanted to be close, he wanted to be close. If he wanted to be far, well that was just simply not plausible. As much as he wanted to pleasure you, make you feel good, like the diligent role of a husband should be, it was the closeness that motivated him every time. Chan longed for these moments, especially since the introduction of your daughter restricted the ability to do so. At any possible moment, Chan would demand to do whatever he could to profess his love, and it was always done with his mouth; his tongue to be more specific.

In this scenario, rather than speaking with tongue, it was sticking out of your husband’s lips, flattening as he dived in head first without hesitation, your hands automatically rummaging through the thick mound of curls that supported the top of his head. His tongue was heaven, spreading your pussy lips farther and farther apart and he used that ferocious organ to fiercely suck on your wanting nub. A monstrous moan escaped your lips at the contact, a gratifying humm coming from his throat at the way you tugged on his locks. Your eyes were barely open, unable to prevent yourself letting your eyelids dance back and forth from open to shut, mesmerized at the current view you had when hunching your neck to see. Chan could see the way you were desperate to view his fulfilling prophecy that was going down on his wife, making sure to lay his chest flat on your bed, ejecting his fingers from your cunt and hooking each forearm around each leg, compressing them into the mattress, giving you the perfect perspective of the combination that was his lips and tongue simultaneously pleasuring your aching core. If this was going to be the result after pining for each other for around 12 hours only, you would never think about it twice.

“I love being married,” you whined, another humorous hum escaping your husband’s lips, “tongue feels so good.”

“Mmmh,” he mumbled, half of his face muffled in your pussy, “you taste so good.”

“What was that?”

He took away his tongue for a brief moment, looking you deep in the eye before repeating his statement.

“You taste so good.”

He didn’t want to take much time away from making you, his wife, feel good, let alone waste his breath on 3 words. His tongue snaked across your inner thigh, the organ licking a gentle strip up each leg before descending back onto your gushing pussy. The smile on your face at his works was impossible to wipe off, your moans through the pearly whites getting louder and louder at the same time with your core, the accumulation of your slick and Chan’s oral fluids contributing to the squelching sound that was bringing you closer and closer to peak arousal. His lust was simply one of trance and dedication. It genuinely could not be explained enough how much he loved seeing you like this, knowing that he was the one that was doing so. Your lips contorted, unable to keep the smile as your bite down on the skin below your bottom lip, harsh enough to leave a line of marks before you were sitting up, hands leaving his hair and dominating his face, palms spread across either side before pressing a kiss to his lips. Your nose crinkled, easily identifying the taste of you on his tongue before giving him one last look, eyes completely open as you crawled backwards on your elbows, left index fingers curling in a come hither motion. The invitation was simply too divine to resist. Your husband turned into a predator, jumping on top of you like he had just caught his prey. His moves were delicate, making sure to not crush you underneath him. His lips were itching to be on yours again, and the feelings were returned, tongue automatically parting his lips and dipping inside his wanting mouth as his hands left your figure for a brief moment, slipping the thin material down his legs and over his feet, fingertips, like magnets to his wife’s skin, straight back onto you. Your own hands were now back on your husband's body, fingernails digging into the large mound of muscles that was his upper back as his fully erect length pressed against your heat. A moan slipped out of your mouth and straight into his, causing him to pull away.

“Fuck you really missed me, didn’t you?”

His smirk was fucking priceless. So annoying, but it would just be a flat out lie if you said you were not attracted to it in the slightest. Cocky did not look good on most people, but it 100% suited your husband. Your nails buried themselves deeper into his flesh at his statement, a poor attempt at humbling him in the slightest as another moan fell from your lips as he began slightly rocking back and forth, the tip of his pre-cum soaked tip hitting your extremely sensitive nub. You went to open your mouth, a failing endeavor of speaking a sentence when the only thing coming out being sounds of pleasure.

“Don’t tease me Mr. Bang,” you mumbled in between each groan, bucking your hips to create a larger friction between your two bodies. Chan was getting impatient himself, but god, did he love to tease you. Your husband had no trouble making you orgasm over and over, he just had displeasure in making you cum so quickly. Your body was sensitive solely to him, even after all these years, it didn’t take much to get you there. Therefore, teasing you made the process so much more enjoyable. Watching you squirm was something that he really enjoyed.

“Hmm Mrs. Bang,” he hummed, lifting his hips off of yours, one hand now wrapped around the base of him, “you’re so cute when you’re all hot and bothered.”

Your eyes formed into a squint, annoyed at how easily he was pinning you down, “stop playing games and fuck me. Preferably today before they get home.”

“Oh fuck,” Chan chuckled, prodding at your pussy hole with his length, “you’re right, let me get to business.”

It was funny when previously mentioned that Chan left to tease and see you squirm, because once his length was comforted by the strength of your tight walls, your husband was a mess. He couldn't help it. Your pussy, after being with you for so many years, molded exactly to the shape and maneuvers that Chan needed. He tried to maintain a slow pace, allowing for your cunt to stretch perfectly around him, wanting you to feel every inch of him; but it simply was too irresistible to resist. Chan wrapped his hands around your ankles, lifting your limbs in the air and stretching them as far as they could go before kneeling on his knees as he began to flat out pound your busy. His pace was not as fast no, by the velocity of the thrusts was truly toe curling. Your jaw dropped to the floor if it could, the bedhead surely denting the walls at the arms as each time his hope made contact with your contact, a large noise resembling a slap occurred. Your husband was usually not as rough, but it’s not that you’re complaining at all. It was rare that he would just throw you around like this, usually if he was frustrated or that you had been away. So really, you should have seen this coming. Maybe it was what provoked you to reply to his lustful text in such a similar manner; whatever you have been doing it was right seeing as he was making your pussy cry with arousal.

Chan’s teeth sunk into your left calf, a string of large huffs and puffs escaping from his chest as he put all his mighty effort into each thrust, your husband breathing heavy at the combination of his force and pleasure he got from fucking you like that. His eyes ogled however, at how easily your tits bounced back and forth.

“Fuck,” you shouted, “s-so rough.”

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, keeping your legs in the air as your pulled him by the neck, foreheads accidentally smashing foreheads together with a significant force, “you’re fucking me like you want to put another kid in me.”

“Maybe I do,” he grunted, pressing a kiss to your lips in between, “maybe I should put another kid in you.”

God the way he talks, especially like that, turns you on so much. Your hands now travel back to the familiar spot of his back, pulling his chest against yours as he picked up his pace, thrusts much smoother with rhythm as your eyes fluttered shut, head hitting the back of the pillow ad your husband relentlessly fucked your pussy. A deep breath blew from your lips, an insufficient try to maintain your composure as your husband refused to set a forgiving speed.

“Fuck your pussy,” he growled, unable to finish his sentence.

“Yeah baby?”

“Mine,” he huffed, his own eyes fluttering shut as he pinned your upper limbs next to your head, head dipping down back to your breasts, a ferociously lick on your left nipple before he continued, “Fuck I’ll fuck another fucking child into that fucking pussy if you want me to.”

Chan became a menace when he reached his peak horniness, and during this timeline, that was right now. Anyone who met or knew Chan, as a well-respected friend, colleague, or even a stranger, knew that was one of the most polite people that you could possibly have the pleasure of meeting. Not one to swear, always use his manners and respect other people’s time and values. However, it was only you who got to see the truly feral side of him, like this, cursing his head off. It was only at this point did he forget that facade of a well-mannered gentleman. Chan was certainly not polite or gentlemen like when he fucked you, and it was a guilty pleasure of yours. It always aroused you to hear him say ‘fuck’, mumble a ‘motherfucker’ or ‘shit’ under his breath, even just in normal dialgoue. So when he said it during sex, it truly was one of the hottest fucking things your had ever seen.

“Do it,” you mumbled, unable to use your full voice, “put a kid in me.”

“Really?”

His head snapped up immediately, lips moving back to your own, pecking you one more time, but with his eyebrows raised in surprise, “Are you being serious?”

“Yes,” you smiled, fingertips spreading across your husband’s cheeks, “you have my permission.”

“Oh fuck,” he grumbled, “you really shouldn’t have said that.”

Chan’s hands snuggled under your back, scooping you and placing you up right on him, cock still inside of you as he sat up himself, keeping you close to his torso as he scooched the end of the bed. He let out a groan as he stood up, hands trailing to your hips as began to bounce you. A new level of sound escaped your lips at the new angle he was hitting inside of your pussy. It was smart to keep your arms enclosed around his neck, head buried into his chest as he still managed to keep the same pace. You really didn’t know how much more of this you could handle; the pressure in your body was building. The pit of your stomach was making its way to your final high, and your muscles were tightening in conjunction. The room’s scent was full of sweat, but also passion. Sweet sweet passion and sweet sweet love filled the four nostrils in the room, bringing you even closer to the edge.

“Chan?”

“Y/n, you okay baby?”

“I’m gonna cum baby,” you whined, “I'm gonna cum so hard.”

“Oh me fucking too baby,” he fritted through his jaw breaking teeth clench, “I’m about to blow so fucking hard.”

“Yeah?”

“All in this pussy,” he whined, placing you back down on the bed, “my pussy.”

“Mhm, all yours.”

Your husband kept your back arching off the edge of the bed, making sure that when let go of himself, that nothing but even a drop would drip out of your hole. His hips became erratic; you could tell that your husband would not last much longer. Not that you were far off either, but you know that the release of his seed would tip you over the edge.

“Fuck,” he cursed, hard, “Y/n I’m so sorry I’m gonna cum first.”

“It’s ok,” you whined, “I need your seed inside of me so fucking badly.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” you clenched, eyes dark with lust as he kept his gaze on you, “put a fucking kid in me.”

“I fucking love my fucking wife so much,” he spat, jaw falling agape as his load exploded, the ropes of your husband’s orgasm roping over and over inside of you, “I fucking love you so much.”

“Fuck Chan,” you screamed, your own orgasm washing over and sending you into a haze, “it feels so good inside of me.”

Your whine was so attractive to Chan that he leant down to kiss you one more time, before withdrawing his aching cock, falling to your side in a heavy breath. He was quick to get back into action, however, falling off the bed and grabbing your ankles again, lifting them off the floor and onto the bed, ensuring that not a lick of his load would fall out. A fat giggle escaped from your lips when you watched him do so.

“Fuck you were serious about that kid hey?”

He was already gone, annoyingly leaving you by himself. He was quick to come back however, returning with a glass of water and a banana from the kitchen bench, handing over to you without a second thought. Your lips turned into a smile automatically, practically chugging the water down to quench your thirst before peeling the banana open. Your husband took his spot next to you, lying on his side as he watched you with admiration. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious, hesitating before putting your lips anywhere near the fruit.

“I’m starting to think you got this fruit for a particular reason.”

“No,” he chuckled, “just eat it.”

You looked away from him as your lips ‘accidentally’ slipped down the banana, much past where necessary to take a bite. You could see your husband's jaw clenching out of the corner of your eye as your motion.

“What,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, “you were asking for it.”

“Fuck your lucky that your daughter is going to be home soon.”

#bang chan #bang chan fic #bang chan smut #bang chan scenario #bang chan imagine #bang chan x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #stray kids x reader #ch4nb4ng

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sugarcoated-lame · 9 months

Text

Lost and Found | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Single Dad!Bradley x Reader

Part One of my Single dad!Bradley miniseries | part two | library blog

*all my works are 18+, minors DNI

Summary: When Bradley’s four-year old daughter goes missing during a trip to the mall, he doesn’t expect to find himself so taken with the pretty stranger who helps her find her way back to him.

WC: 3.6K

Warnings: I suck at titling my stories and summaries :), a bit of angst, mentions of pregnancy and abandonment, (briefly) missing child, mentions of anxiety/panic attack, but then so much fluff, Bradley’s kid being too cute for her own good, implied age gap, I feel like dilf Bradley needs his own warning

a/n: I wrote this months ago and I’m a bit nervous to share, but the response to the teaser was so amazing (thank you <3) and dilf Bradley lives in my head rent-free, so I’m excited about this one! Also the picture on the right just screams dad Bradley to me! Thank you for reading, as always I’d love to hear your feedback, so please leave a comment/reblog <3

• • •

Bradley directs his gaze away from the rack of little girls’ clothes he’d been perusing, injecting enthusiasm into his voice as he holds up a hanger with a small, baby pink t-shirt dress hanging on it. “Hey, Bug. What do you think of this–?”

He cuts himself off before the end of his question when he realizes that he’s talking to no one. “Where did she…?”

He trails off, brows furrowed. Still holding up the child-sized dress that looks especially tiny next to his large frame, Bradley spins around, perplexed. She was just here.

- - -

Bradley’s daughter, Caroline, who’d just recently turned four— and was growing up way too fast for his liking— was set to begin preschool next week. His little girl was growing right before his eyes and she needed a new wardrobe to accommodate that. So, Bradley had taken her to the mall to buy some new clothes for school. He didn’t know the first thing about little girls’ fashion, but he was sure he could manage.

He’d spent the last hour searching through clothing rack after clothing rack in the girl’s section of a department store, Caroline at his side, lips in a pout and shaking her little head ‘no’ at all of his choices, sandy brown curls bobbing along with her every movement. Bradley could tell the four-year old was getting bored, and he was becoming frustrated.

The buzzing of his phone with a text from Maverick granted him a brief reprieve from his predicament.

“One second, honey.” Bradley sighed, affectionately patting the top of his daughter’s head before looking toward his phone to answer some question Mav had about work.

He was happy for a moment’s distraction from getting ready to tear his hair out wondering if he was going to have to send his daughter to her first day of preschool wearing a trash bag because he didn’t know what the hell kind of clothes he’s supposed to buy for a picky four-year old girl.

Bradley had been a single parent for most of his daughter’s life. He and Caroline’s mother, Amber, had only been seeing each other for the better half of a year when they found out the news that they were expecting. And even then, their relationship was never really official.

The two met not long after the Uranium Mission, while Bradley was still on North Island taking some time to relax and awaiting another assignment. He’d gone to the little diner Amber was waitressing at, he thought she was cute and they’d hit it off straight away. Bradley got her number and the rest was history.

The Navy kept Bradley busy. He was always traveling for some assignment or deployments – sometimes gone for months at a time, so they only saw each other on the rare occasions he was in town.

They’d hang out and hook up, maybe go on a date here and there, a sort of friends-with-benefits situation. There was definitely a sense of care between Bradley and Amber, but the lack of time they were able to spend together meant it never went beyond that.

When they learned that Amber was pregnant, they both knew it wouldn’t be easy. But they thought that, together, they could make it work.

A few months after Caroline was born though, Amber admitted that she couldn’t handle things.

Bradley took to being a father so easily. From the moment their baby was born and she looked up at him with those big, honey brown eyes that matched his own, he knew that he’d do absolutely anything for her. Caroline instantly became his world.

Amber, on the other hand, really struggled. She loved her baby of course, but deep down she wasn’t sure she was ready to be a mother. If she’d ever be.

She figured it was better if she’d gone while Caroline was still young enough that she wouldn’t remember her, and knew that their daughter would be just fine in Bradley’s loving hands. And just like that, she left the both of them.

Bradley resented Amber for a while, but in time he came to understand. Not everyone was meant to be a parent. Besides that, he knew that there was no time for resentment.

He was on his own with a four-month old baby and he needed to put all of his energy into taking care of her. So, he requested a more permanent position at Top Gun so that he could stay in one place to raise his daughter, and it’s been just the two of them ever since.

- - -

Bradley couldn’t have been turned around for more than thirty seconds before he pocketed his phone and reached back out to grab the little pink dress off the rack to show his daughter. But, when he turned back, Caroline was nowhere to be seen.

Ok, don’t panic, Bradley tells himself. She can’t have gone far.

“Caroline?” He calls out calmly, eyes darting around the surrounding area as he spins to look in every direction.

When he doesn’t receive a response, Bradley puts down the dress he was holding and begins to walk among the sea of clothing racks, still calling out his daughter’s name.

He searches the entire girl’s section of the store without success and decides to broaden his search, his heart beginning to speed up in his chest. Ok, he’s starting to panic.

Bradley picks up his pace, maneuvering from one section of the store to another, asking the other customers and few employees that mill about if they’ve seen his daughter.

He knows he must look crazed, practically sprinting, his sneakers squeaking as he moves across the shiny floors as his repeated calls of Caroline’s name become increasingly more frantic — panting and on the verge of tears by the time he’s finished searching the entirety of the large department store to no avail.

Bradley stands frozen in the middle of the store, tears pricking his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly on the brink of hyperventilating. He’s at a loss for what to do. His mind racing through all of the worst scenarios. What if she’s hurt? What if someone took her?

It’s his job to protect his little girl and make sure that she’s always safe, and he failed her. He’s all that Caroline has, and he feels like a failure of a father.

- - -

You’re walking through the busy mall with a couple of bags in hand, all finished with your shopping and ready to head home when you see her.

A little girl — tiny really, she can’t be older than five — with curls a golden shade bordering between both blonde and brown, standing by the bottom of the escalator, alone.

Playing with her little fingers as she looks around the crowd aimlessly with unshed tears in her big, brown eyes. The scared look on her adorable little face breaks your heart, and you know you can’t leave without making sure she’s okay.

You approach her slowly, as if she were a frightened animal that might bolt at any moment, speaking softly so as not to scare her any further. “Hey, honey. Are you alright?”

The look she gives you is a shy one, eyes widening before she looks down at her light-up sneakers and shakes her head.

You can tell the little girl is apprehensive about talking to a stranger — smart.

Kneeling down to be at her eye-level before speaking again, and setting your shopping bags down at your sides, you tell her your name and ask for hers.

“I’m Caroline.” Her voice is sweet and shy, a near-whisper as she chances a glance up at you, eyes still shining with tears when she lifts her head.

“Are you here alone, Caroline? Are you with your mommy and daddy?” You ask her gently.

She shakes her head again, curls swaying along with the motion. “I was with my daddy, but I lost him.”

The adorable pout on her lips might’ve made you smile, if it weren’t for the tears that follow, finally spilling from her eyes and trailing down onto her rosy cheeks.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I can help you find him!” You soothe as your thumb moves to brush her tears away. “Where did you last see him?”

Caroline sniffles and thinks for a moment before speaking, a little bit louder this time.

“We were buying me clothes for preschool in one of the big stores, and my daddy had to answer the phone so I was looking all by myself. And then I got lost and I couldn’t find him.”

You continue to wipe at Caroline’s tears as she talks in that rambling sort of way that all little kids do.

“Preschool, wow. That sounds fun!” You try to take her mind off of the scary situation for a second and she nods excitedly at that, still sniffling. “What’s your daddy’s name?”

Her tears finally begin to slow as she talks about her dad.

“His name’s Bradley, but everybody calls him Rooster! He flies planes!” Caroline explains excitedly.

You can’t help but chuckle as you tell her that her dad has a funny nickname, and that his job sounds fun. You’re happy to see Caroline give you a small smile back.

“Do you remember what store you and your daddy were shopping in?”

She has to think for a long moment, the most adorable, pensive pout you’ve ever seen on her face as she tries to remember.

She doesn’t know the name of the store, but she is able to describe it for you, and you’re able to make a distinction from there.

Standing back to your full height, you readjust your bags on one arm and extend your free hand out towards Caroline, offering her a reassuring smile.

“I know exactly where that is! Ready to go find him?” Caroline grins as she takes your hand with an excited nod, tears no longer visible in her big brown eyes.

The two of you walk on in search of her dad — Bradley, and Caroline talks your ear off the whole way. She is absolutely adorable, telling you more about herself and asking you questions about yourself too, and you find yourself falling more in love with her sweet disposition by the minute.

Within five minutes, you make it to the store that Caroline had been in last, hopeful to reunite her with her father who you figure must be worried sick.

- - -

Bradley isn’t quite sure how long he’s been scouring the massive department store looking for his four-year old daughter— though it feels like forever, time seeming to move in slow motion— on the brink of a panic attack and just about ready to phone the police when he hears a familiar high-pitched shriek of, “DADDY!”

He turns around at lightning speed — and practically gives himself whiplash — to see Caroline approaching him, holding a woman’s hand.

When she lets go and bounds right towards him, Bradley lets out a massive sigh of relief. Kneeling down to catch his little girl in his arms, he feels like he might cry all over again, overcome with a flurry of emotions now that his daughter is safe in his embrace once again.

“Caroline, baby, you scared me half to death!” Bradley can’t keep the emotion out of his voice as he lifts his daughter into his arms and stands back up to his full height, lying his head atop of hers and squeezing her tight. “You can’t just wander off like that, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

He tries his best not to sound angry — she is only four after all, and he’s just thankful that she’s okay. Caroline’s arms wrap around his neck as he holds her tight, her face burrowing into the crook of Bradley’s neck.

“Daddy, I’m fine!” She insists. “And I made a new friend!”

It’s only then that Bradley looks up at the woman who had reunited him with his little girl, standing a few feet away and watching them with a sweet smile.

Oh. It’s only then that he realizes, you are beautiful.

Bradley’s honestly convinced you might be an angel. Pretty, bright eyes and a glowing sweet smile that nearly takes his breath away. And, you’d been kind enough to help his daughter safely find her way back to him.

Bradley just stares for a moment, lips parted and still holding Caroline in his arms, and he hopes that you’ll chalk it up to the overwhelming nature of the situation.

“Uh– thank you so much for bringing Caroline back to me. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” He rushes out, hand cradling the back of his baby’s hair. “I-I’m…” Fuck, why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

“…Bradley,” You finish for him. “Or, Rooster. Right?”

His brows furrow, a pensive look on his very handsome face, a look that you realize matches the one you had seen on his daughter’s face earlier. Cute.

“How did you-” He begins to question how you know his name — and call-sign — but is promptly cut off by his four-year old practically screaming in his ear.

“I told her, Daddy!” Caroline exclaims proudly.

For a man called ‘Rooster’, you sure were not expecting Caroline’s dad to be this good looking. But, fuck, is he hot.

Though he’s clearly got a few years on you, Bradley’s all tall and sun-kissed, tan skin. Broad shoulders and big, muscular arms on display in his fitted black t-shirt while he holds up his little girl, sandy curls a shade or two darker than hers. Whiskey-colored eyes that match his daughter’s, that you can only describe as puppy dog eyes.

His deep, husky voice that sends tingles down your spine and beautifully shaped pink lips framed by a mustache that you’re surprised you find so attractive.

“Well, I’m glad I could be of help.” You hope that he can’t see the flush you can feel blooming on your cheeks as you speak. “And, Caroline was great company!”

You wink at the little girl who giggles against his shoulder, and when Bradley smiles at you graciously, you can’t help but smile back. God, his smile is pretty.

Up in his arms, Caroline gets distracted playing with her dad's curls. There are a few moments of silence between you, though not uncomfortable, before Bradley speaks up again.

“Well, thank you again. I–uh,” Bradley clears his throat.

“I guess we should let you go. We’ve gotta find some clothes for this little troublemaker, otherwise she’ll have to go to school wearing a garbage bag.” Bradley jokes in a playful tone, bouncing his daughter around in his arms as she giggles, and you can’t help but laugh too at the infectious sound.

“Daddy, wait!” Caroline shouts out before you can answer him.

“What is it, little bug?” Bradley murmurs as he strokes a hand lovingly over her curls. Caroline turns in his hold, directing her next question toward you.

“Can you come with us?” Oh, her puppy dog eyes are even cuter than Bradley’s, and you imagine he probably has a hard time ever saying no to her. “Daddy has no idea what he’s doing when it comes to girl clothes.”

You can’t contain the giggle that escapes your lips as Caroline dramatically rolls her eyes and Bradley lets out an offended huff, the two of them staring at each other with matching, petulant pouts. Adorable.

“That is not true!” Bradley practically shrieks at his daughter and it only makes you laugh more.

“And, honey, she probably doesn’t want–” Bradley begins to protest before you interject.

“I’d love to.” You chime in with a coy grin and Bradley looks back at you, bewildered.

Sure, you figure he probably has a beautiful wife waiting for him at home, but what’s the harm in spending just a little more time with a handsome pilot and his adorable daughter? So far, you’re having a lot of fun.

Bradley’s brows furrow skeptically. “Are you…sure?”

You purse your lips, staring up toward the ceiling for a moment as if you really need to think about it before you grin and offer him a one-shouldered shrug. “Yeah, I’ve got nowhere to be.”

You hope you don’t seem too eager, but the matching smiles you receive from both Bradley and Caroline tell you they don’t mind.

Bradley’s honestly a bit shocked that you— a pretty, young, complete stranger, want to stick around to hang out with him and his kid, but he isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So, once you assure him again that you’re happy to stay, he sets Caroline back on her feet and offers — more like insists — that he holds your shopping bags, and the three of you set off to peruse the oh-so daunting girl’s clothing section of the store once again.

Bradley watches in awe as Caroline grabs your hand, tugging you along as you help her pick out some articles of clothing.

The two of you chatter the whole time, bringing him into the conversations too, holding up articles of clothing and asking what he thinks, and Bradley is delighted to see how good you are with his daughter.

“This would look pretty on you!” Caroline holds out a little girl’s purple sweater dress in your direction. “Wouldn’t it, Daddy?”

You’re biting back a grin as Bradley looks to you and then back to his daughter and chuckles.

“I don’t think it comes in her size, Bug.” Bradley’s gaze returns to you, mirth in his eyes when he continues, “But yeah, it would look very pretty.”

You know he can see the obvious flush to your cheeks this time as his lips pull up into a smirk.

Shaking your head, you look back down to Caroline with a grin. “I think it’d look even prettier on your dad.” That pulls a giggle out of both of them.

Things go on like that as the three of you continue to shop, Bradley admiring how sweet and funny you are, how patient you are with his daughter.

The two of you discreetly sharing amused looks at some of the obscure things Caroline says that could only come out of a little kid’s mouth, banter coming easily between the three of you.

After a short while, Caroline has an array of new outfits for school— and a new stuffed animal after some begging and very convincing puppy dog eyes from his four-year old while you stood by and tried not to giggle, and Bradley knows that he wants to get to know you more.

He hasn’t done much in the way of dating since becoming a single father. Aside from the simple lack of time, Bradley’s always been afraid that most women won’t want to stick around when they find out he has a kid.

That they might not get along with his daughter or worse, be upset when they realize that Caroline will always be his number one priority.

Too scared to let his daughter get attached to someone only for them to leave, Caroline is his world and he’s been content with that.

But now, after seeing the way you are with his little girl — and in such a short time, he can’t help but think that he already likes you being a part of it.

With the clothing shopping done, the sun is setting by the time you're all ready leave the mall. Bradley and Caroline walk you out to your car, and both are reluctant to say goodbye to you just yet. You can't say you’re too happy to part with them either.

As he helps you put your bags in the trunk of your car, Bradley knows he needs to take his shot now — or as Hangman likes to tell him, he needs to get off his perch.

“Hey, could I possibly get your number?” Bradley asks, trying to sound as confident as his voice can possibly muster. “I’d love to see you again.”

Caroline pipes up from next to you, jumping up and down while she still holds your hand. “Me too!”

Is he asking you out? The breathless laugh you let out is one of shock, and you’re sure the look on your face matches as you glance between the adorable father-daughter duo.

You’re also sure that you’re blushing again.

For a moment, you can only stand frozen, lips parted, and when you realize you’ve yet to answer his question, you promptly close your mouth and attempt to school your features, quickly nodding your head.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You tell him shyly, and Bradley can’t help but smirk at the color that’s begun to paint your cheeks.

He hands over his phone and tries not to smile too hard as you type in your number, glancing up at him and biting back your own grin while you send yourself a text so that you’d have his too.

You kneel down to squeeze Caroline into a hug, the little girl happily wrapping her arms around your neck. You leave her with a promise that you’ll see them again soon, though the way you look up at her father over her shoulder lets Bradley know that that promise is directed at the both of them.

When you stand, Bradley gazes at you with a thoughtful smile before bringing you into a hug too.

“Have a good night, sweetheart.” The deep rumble of his voice so close to your ear, as well as the heat of his touch, leave your body feeling warm all over. That warmth never fading even as you watch Bradley and Caroline cross the parking lot, hand-in-hand, to get to their car.

Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t mind seeing him again soon.

- - -

Thank you for reading! Leave a comment/reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! x

Part 2 will be up next Wednesday! <3

UPDATE: you can read part two here ! ❤️

tag list: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @simonscumsock

also tagging some people who reblogged/replied to the sneak peek : @fanficfandomlove @hangmanssunnies @milestomaverick @maverick-wingman @teacupsandtopgun @katiemcrae @colourfulsuitwonderland @becks-things @bradshawsbaddie @bradshawsbitch @valhallaas @roger-that-cap @woodkiller

. . .

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #top gun fic #miles teller #dad bradley #single dad bradley #my writing

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fairestwriting · 2 months

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Hey, hello, would it be possible to request the first years with a crush or s/o who's constantly very warm so they can basically act as a human heating pad but despite this they're very touch starved and basically melt into hugs and cuddles, gender neutral pronouns would be great, thank you very much and merry (probably late) Christmas if you do this and same to you even if you don't!

another oldie (Visibly. im so sorry anon. i hope an awesome holiday season) i just had to take...... in the name of all my fellow human space heaters

Ace Trappola

One day, his hands got cold, and you were nearby, neck fully exposed, and Ace did what he would obviously do in this situation. Except it turned out he was the one shocked by how warm you are, even though he did make you jump a bit.

He's a fan of the physical affection. He doesn't fluster easily and likes showing you off all smug, linking your arms together or putting his over your shoulder while you're with your friends. The warmth is a great bonus.

When you cuddle up in a hot day, he whines about how you're gonna cook him alive and will jokingly "attempt" to push you off while giggling, then turning on the AC of his room or dragging you both somewhere cooler.

Deuce Spade

The first time you hug, Deuce gets spooked because he thinks you have a fever. He fusses over you for a few good minutes before you can explain anything. Then gets embarrassed of his reaction.

Being Deuce, he'll randomly revisit this worry, but mostly he just eases into it rather easily. He's a little shy, whether you're in public or not, but you can tell he feels comfortable with the way he leans into you.

Feels so bad if you're holding hands and his gets sweaty. Apologizes a billion times while wiping it clean on his shirt. Nevermind that it'd happen even if you weren't so warm, he just doesn't want you to ever feel awkward when touching him.

Jack Howl

Also really warm because of his wolf beastman genes, also surprisingly touchy. It's hard to tell which one of you is warmer, actually? Which in the end just means you end up comfortably cuddled up very oftwn.

...whenever you're away from others, of course. It's not that Jack hates the thought of PDA, but he "prefers to take it slow" (Read: Makes him blush way too easy)

Commiserates in the summer and celebrates in the winter if you're not very tolerant to heat like him. Sometimes he talks about his family's trips to the north with a voice softer than usual, hinting just a little bit that he'd really love it if you came along one day.

Epel Felmier

He's also on the warmer side temperature wise, but he's small, so he ends up getting cold surprisingly easily.

At first he's a bit spooked with the touchyness, really just because it's his first relationship, but it grows on him. A lot.

Epel thinks him getting cold easy-ish is embarrassing, so he really feels like he won the lottery here. Now he gets to put his arm around your waist to stay warm and look cool with you by his side, boy's on top of the world.

Sebek Zigvolt

Runs very cold. The first time your hand is anywhere on him he jumps a bit. The situation's like the inverse of someone who gets startled by their friend's cold hands pressed to their neck.

He briefly questions if you're really human, stammering something about how only beastmen are so warm. He's too distracted by how nice your warmth feels to make much sense.

He's so easily flustered every time you get cuddly, but if he even tries to push you off (Which he mostly just does if you're in public) it comes out all feeble. Even if he's trying to keep up with etiquette and you two actually have to step away from each other, it's all over his face that he misses the coziness.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #epel felmier x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #lis writing

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 13 days

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Helloooo your recs give me life. You’ve probably done this before, but any recommendations for fics that include a brutally pining Derek and oblivious Stiles? Ideally canon-verse but aus are also loved. Thanks in advance!!

I'm sure I have, but I love pining in all fics. So I'm happy to make a million lists of it.

Fun by Halevetica

(1/1 I 3,889 I Teen)

Stiles convinces Derek to go to the annual Beacon Hills bonfire with him, with the promise of fun. What he gets instead are a lot of assumptions that he and Stiles are dating, and Stiles' too-eager dismissals, which are decidedly NOT fun for Derek.

Game On by stilinskisparkles

(1/1 I 6,391 I Teen)

Derek first sees him from across the quad four days into fall semester. He’s sitting on one of the long benches, a marker pen in his mouth, grinning at something the kid lounging on the bench beside him is saying. When he laughs properly he pulls the pen out and throws his head back, his neck a long, lean line Derek is entranced by. He flicks the page in his book and highlights something, tossing the cap up in the air and catching it with his teeth.

Written in the Stars by Quixoticity

(6/6 I 26,586 I Mature)

Derek Hale is a lucky guy. He's got a great family, good friends, and a fulfilling job as a tattoo artist.

He's also one of the twenty-five per cent of the population born with a soul mark.

He likes his life, but he's waiting for his soul-match. The odds of meeting them aren't great but hey, Derek's a lucky guy. He has faith.

He can't believe how good his luck really is when one day his soul-match wanders right into his studio, all long limbs and copper eyes. There's just one problem: Stiles is there to get his soul mark covered up. Permanently.

Mating Habits of the Domesticated North American Werewolf by lielabell

(5/5 I 35,458 I Mature)

Derek doesn’t do pining. He doesn’t. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.

too busy being yours to fall for somebody new by whiry

(12/12 I 64,278 I Teen)

Stiles, worried that Scott may actually leave him behind because of his newfound popularity, is desperate to cling to something away from the drama of Lydia Martin's amazing parties and the woes of high school lacrosse. What he finds is Derek Hale, a guy who seemingly hates Stiles at first, but slowly, and insistently, becomes friends with him. As their friendship grows, Stiles starts to wonder if they could ever become something more or if pushing what they have will lead him to being alone for good.

All the Weird Kids (Know How to Take it Slow) by Ionaonie

(26/26 I 112,477 I General)

Stiles never thought being part of a werewolf Pack would end up being so normal. Even being around Derek had a degree of normality about it. Even if he was still an overbearing jerk most of the time.

When it all comes crumbling down by Littleredridinghunter

(18/18 I 216,191 I Not Rated)

Stiles is recovering from the Nogitsune. Erica is the only one that is really there for him, Scott's too busy rekindling his relationship with Allison and Stiles feels like he's falling apart.

When a near-miss with a kelpie results in an encounter that he could never have predicted, Stiles begins to think his life might be getting back on track.

He's wrong.

Stiles' life is so messed up he can't even begin to explain it, maybe it's time for him to finally do something for himself and get out of Beacon Hills. But where will that path lead?

With Stiles involved, no doubt danger and death won't be far behind.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #pining #pining!derek #oblivious!stiles #anon

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cheriladycl01 · 2 months

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2026 Rewind - Grid x AudiDriver! Reader

Plot: After some devastating deaths within the F1 industry from unmistakable names in 2025, the FIA decide to make a plan to race at all of the old tracks that are iconic but haven’t been on the grid for a while.

A/N: this is racing heavy with only drivers name dropped, but if you want cool Ted and Crofty with Y/N vibes while learning more about some of the FIA Grade 1 Tracks, have a read!

Credit to celestinovietti for the GIF

“So Ted, let’s talk about this years line up. It’s just so iconic that I can’t bear it!” David Croft says as they are in the commentator box at pre-season testing.

“Yeah Crofty, obviously it’s so unfortunate the reason behind what we are calling the 2026 rewind because of some losses we had in the industry and this was the way the FIA decided to pay tribute to those people!" Ted explains before the onscreen for the year comes up.

"So, lets go through the year together and analyze it. We're starting of the season strong in the lovely Kuwait, here at Kuwait Motor Town, this is where we are kick starting off this season. It's a high speed track here just north of where we would typically start in Bahrain. This is a track consisting of 20 turns, and is 5.609km of racing ahead. I'm very excited as no-one in F1 history has raced here in an F1 car. Who do you think's going to do well here Ted?"

"Well, there's some really nice corners, and it's a similar temp to Bahrain so i think it's difficult to tell but I can imagine the Audi with Y/N now having done her rookie season learning all those key values about the F1 car and how it works. McLaren will also be good here, really tightening up the constructors championship this year!" Ted offers looking at all the onboard footage.

"Yes I agree, I think Red Bull tend to be quiet strong a the start of the year naturally and its a game for the other teams to be playing catch up!" Crofty agrees.

"Okay, then after Kuwait, we'll be travelling to and correct me if I'm saying this wrong but the Kyalami Circuit in South Africa near the wonderful capital Johannesburg. It's in replacement of the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, we haven't raced in South Africa since 1993 and what a beautiful circuit this is, its got some really high speed corners and yeah, I think the Ferrari will really be great on those long straights." Ted says analysis the data of the cars in testing.

"And now here we have with us, Y/N Y/L/N Audi F1 driver here to talk through the rest of the tracks!" David says and points to the camera for you to smile and wave before he pulls out the microphone in front of you.

"Hello!" you grin and David and Ted both burst out laughing.

"What did I miss, I'm really sorry i was late!" you smile looking between them and they both nod in understanding of how tight the weekend schedule could be, they are shocked they actually have your time right now.

"It's completely okay, we understand! We've only introduced Kuwait and South Africa, we are about to move onto the changed Australia track! Your thoughts?" he exclaims and you smile.

"Yeah, obviously it's going to be exciting with all these new tracks that none of us have driven, so of course there was a lot of testing in the sims... but yeah its great to be here in Kuwait, and I'm excited to go to South Africa as well!" you smile.

"Yes, and how do you feel about Australia being changed from Albert Park in Melbourne to the Adelaide Street Circuit?" Ted asks with a grin on his face knowing how you felt about the Australian races.

"Well, after the spider incident in 2022, I've always been so scared to drive in Australia" you giggle, before Crofty pulls up the video of you in P4 of the Australian Grand Prix in 2022.

Y/N - Theres a fucking tarantula in my car Race Engineer - Copy that Y/N - No i dont think you guys get it, its on me

"And you ended up pitting there was no time to get it out of the car because of where it was, you were crying for the rest of the race and you were going so quick so you could just finish that you actually ended up winning your first race here and overtaking Charles Leclerc in, what back then was an Alfa Romeo." Crofty smiles and you nod.

"Yeah, so where ever that race is in Australia I know ill be on edge the whole time, I'll have my crew do like 6 inspections on my car before each session to make sure. It was traumatizing i tell you!" you admit.

"So after what will hopefully be a spider free stint in Adelaide on their street circuit we move on to south east Asia where we will exchange Suzuka Japan, for the Fuji SpeedWay, a truly iconic track before going back to an old favorite of some of the older driver on the grid like Lewis and Fernando in South Korea at the Korea International Circuit!" Ted says showing the line up for the races after Australia.

"I'm really excited for these, the atmosphere of the fans is always amazing and the tracks here are great I think Audi thrive on these sort of tracks and yeah, I'm excited to see what we can do there!" you smile, looking at the spinning track layout that popped up on screen.

You move on to Miami's replacement being the iconic Californian Long Beach Street Circuit.

"And we've been tipped of, by a certain Cash App driver that he'll be taking you to DisneyLand while out there?" he asks looking at you.

"Yes, Liam has already been once and when I said about wanting to go to radiator springs he and Daniel jumped on the opportunity to go, which then Yuki and Max wanted to come so it's now turned into this whole massive group trip!" you laugh knowing that half the grid would come with you guys.

"And of course much like the UK Italy is another pinnacle of Motorsport and we've had to change out two of the iconic track Monza and Imola. So for the first change of Italy we've changed it to the iconic Mugello track which I just really love, don't you Y/N?" Ted asks looking at you.

"Yeah I think Lando and Osc will be really strong there, I'd like to think me and Carlos are as well with the Audi this year... so yeah I'm excited for Mugello! Obviously they raced here in 2020 so it's the most recent of all the races this year to make a return so its only really me, Oscar, Logan, Fred, Theo and Kimi who haven't raced there" you smile analyzing the twisty track up on the screen.

"Yes, then we'll be moving onto, what was probably one of the toughest decisions of this year which was switching out Monaco and what to switch out such an exciting race with, so they didn't its the only race on the calendar this year that has remained unchanged!" David explains making you nod.

"I think, where this year is to show the history of F1 and what it means to all of us, the teams and the fans. And by keeping Monaco on there where its such a historic track, i think that's actually staying true to a rewind year!" you smile, you'd always loved the vibes in Monaco, from the fans to the track to how your car performed there.

"Yeah i agree i think it was the right choice keeping Monaco!" Ted exclaims also loving the vibes at Monaco.

"Okay, then moving all the way to the west, we'll be in Canada moving from Montreal over to Quebec at the second oldest track, the Mont-Tremblant Circuit!" David shows the new Canadian circuit on screen.

"Then after Canada we've got a really special double header with two Spanish Grand Prix's at different locations. We have the Valencia Street Circuit and Del Jarama Circuit. Both very exciting and it will be a long weekend in Spain!"

"I'm excited to see a street circuit in Spain, obviously we had Madrid for the last two years after Barcelona, so I'm excited for both Valencia as a street circuit and Jarama which is such an iconic track because of those tights turns and yeah I'm really excited for this one!" you smile.

"Obviously next one was another tough one, Silverstone again another iconic track and the UK has so many other iconic tracks that its hard to choose, there was talks of Aintree, Watkins Glen and Donington Park but ultimately they went with Brands Hatch what do you think on this?" Ted asks looking over to you, holding up a page showing all the different UK tracks.

"Yeah, I think there's some really iconic tracks in the UK, its my home so i grew up racing on a lot of those tracks in different motorsport categories, I think there's ones that are arguably better for Formula one, which is why Silverstone is the main circuit as it gives for the most interesting race, however for me it would have been a call between Brands Hatch and Watkins Glen so I'm glad that they chose Brands Hatch, I've got some great memories there at testing and showcasing the car or working with the Top Gear team, so I'm excited to race there!" you explain, the United Kingdom is the like Monaco in being both a founder and royalty when it comes to Motorsport.

"I 100% agree with that, however I just love Aintree so much and am gutted we wont see it!" David Croft admits.

"So after Brands Hatch we move to Monsanta in Portugal which we haven't raced in Portugal since 2021 because of the COVID restrictions but that was in Algarve so it'll be interesting to see the difference!" Ted offers looking at the next circuit floating on their screen as he zoom's in on turn 4.

"Then, again there another track we hate to see go even if its for one year but Spa, its so iconic and its one of the most dangerous circuits we race now and it's being swapped out for Circuit Zolder on the other side of Belgium! Thoughts?" David asks out in the open.

"I" you start.

"Well I think" Ted also starts and you both look at each other in shock before laughing. You let Ted go first to say his piece.

"Well, I think it's no where near interesting as Spa, and especially where its the last race before a break... I think it's going to be way more uneventful than Spa!"

"Y/N?" Crofty asks looking at you.

"I actually think the opposite most of the tracks have been very high risk with lost of turns and chicanes and hairpins that really catch you out, however this reminds me of the simplicity of Monza and everyone, everyone loves Monza. So i think it will really even out the mid field cars" you says observing the track that had nice long straights and minimal turns.

"I agree with you there Y/N! Next after Zolder we head over to the heavily missed Nurburgring in Germany, the last time we saw it was 2019 so again, up until our 2019 rookies would have driven there how'd you feel about this track Y/N?" David asks.

"Well, it's such an iconic track for so many reasons I really wanted to race there after I watched Lando, George and Alex all race there in 2019, I was actually there in the paddock that year with Ferrari as a part of their driver development programme" you nod, explaining to them how excited you were for it.

"Now next in the place of Monza which we just mentioned we have a complete wild card of the Scandinavian Raceway in Sweden! Now this, this is one I'm excited for it's a beautiful track and has the coldest track temps we'll probably get all season! So it'll be a real fight to see who can protect their tyres and manage them well!" Ted explains and you nod, knowing it would be an exciting race.

"Then after that we travel to France where we haven't been for a while, however the Bugatti Au Mans Track in France is iconic, there are so many great tracks in France like Paul-Ricard or the Charade Circuit or Dijon de Prenois, all of them are great but the Bugatti hasn't been done is so long and really means a lot historically to the sport" David offers, showing you one of the only tracks you didn't feel too excited a lean towards.

"Then, we move back across to Aisa, going to an age of favorite of the age old Sepang International Circuit in Malasiya which is one fans have been wanting to see back on the race calendar for a while so i wonder if this will stay into 2027!" Ted takes over, and you nod.

"I'm also very excited for Sepang! After Malaysia we move onto the first ever FIA grade 1 race track the Chang Circuit in Thailand, how to we feel about this?" David asks directly looking at you.

"Not only is it a beautiful track, but it means that Alex now has a chance to race at his home track while racing under his home flag and I think he's really excited for it. He's in a great car, the Williams has come leaps and bounds and are top midfield contenders and definitely will be up there fighting for race wins!" you smile, knowing Alex was so happy to have this opportunity to race in his home country.

"I agree Alex Albon to win in Chang Circuit, I've put my money on it! Our next circuit it one that NASCAR share with us in F1 taking it back to the Indianapolis Speedway, on the lower F1 circuit of course rather than the Oval that the NASCAR drivers use!" Ted explains.

"Yeah, that lower track is great, you got the nice curve and we'll be able to get to those really high speeds. It's an iconic US track just like COTA!" you admit, taking a sip of the water you'd brought with you.

"After Indi, we'll make our way a little further down south to the Rio de Janiro International Track in Brazil, which is instead of Sao Paulo" David explains looking at the second F1 track in Brazil, it was a nice track but Sao Paulo had been on the roster for so long.

"Then, we are back in Las Vegas, but not on the Strp track that was created in 2023, no we are going back to the Ceaser's Palace Track and I know many people complain about these Las Vegas Grand Prix's because of the timings and the drivers not really liking driving at 12pm!"

"Yeah, i agree they are really strenuous just like Qatar for the heat but I love the vibe Las Vegas brings and I like the whole weekend with all the activities in the fan zone and yeah I'm excited they used Ceaser's Palace rather than the Pheonix Street Circuit which i know they were considering.

"I agree. Our last two races, then consist of the Buddah International Circuit in India and rounding off instead of in Yas Marina in the Dubai Autodrome, which will be a really nice round off" David exclaims.

Slowly you end the interview up, needing to go down to the track to get into the car for you leg of pre-season testing.

What a year it would be.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris imagine #lando norris #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc x reader #lewis hamilton #max verstappen x you #oscar piastri f1 #alex albon fluff #alex albon imagine #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll

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thewulf · 10 months

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Pretty Girl || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: So, the request/idea is an Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader where the reader is actually a criminology or psychology professor and is good friends with Spencer... Read Rest Here

A/N: Loosely based on one of my favorite story lines because I sat here for an hour trying to come up with a good enough story that’d stump Reid and failed. Mosely Lane. Doesn't get fluffy until the end. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 5.4k +

Dismissing the class for the weekend you sat back at your desk in the front of the auditorium strumming away at the keyboard. You heard the clapping before you saw him. Eyes crinkling a touch you smiled brilliantly at your longtime friend.

“Another excellent lecture Professor.” He grinned at you.

“Spencer!” You laughed shooting out of your seat hugging the tall lanky man tightly, “To what do I owe this visit to?” You asked after breaking apart from the hug.

His face shifted from one of joy to a downcast expression, “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious.” He sighed taking a seat on your desk, “We need some help.”

You nodded listening, “Go on.”

He looked down as if he was ashamed to ask for help. As if he should’ve been good enough to solve it. But nobody was perfect. Sometimes cases can get away from you. You’ve had it happen once when every decision you made was the wrong one. It was always awful when you realized you might’ve made a mistake that got somebody killed.

“Kids. They’re just kids.” His voice wobbled as he looked back up to you. You felt your heart clench at the voice crack, “Another child was found off the Potomac just north of here.”

Your cocked your eyebrow in curiosity, “A local case? How many children?” You asked quickly hopping from professor to profiler in your mind.

He drew a deep breath, “Ten.”

Your eyes widened, “Over how long?” That was a lot of murdered kids. Who in their sick minds could do something like that? You’d been around a lot of sick people in your years in criminology, but this was already coming to the top of the twisted pile. Killing kids was another level of sick you despised coming across.

“A year and a few months.”

Your eyes bugged even further, “Christ.”

He nodded solemnly tossing the case file down on your desk. He watched as you meticulously poured over everything the team had put together in two weeks. You hummed and hawed as you fingers ran across the pages. Reading everything.

“These poor babies.” You let out an equally defeated sigh looking at the pictures of the mutilated bodies of the innocent.

He hummed in agreement, “We can’t figure it out. Another girl just got abducted in the same way the last boy was. We just found his body. I’m missing something here. I can’t see it.” You looked up at him. He looked utterly defeated. Tired eyes gave way to the lack of sleep he’d been getting. Messy hair and wrinkled clothing also adored his figure.

“I’m in. Let’s go.” You shoved your laptop in your bag before closing the massive case file to read in the car.

He gave you a confused look, “Right now? Don’t you have to teach?”

You nodded, “I’ll cancel it. Let’s go. Time is ticking for the girl. First to the office.” Hurriedly, you stood next to him eyeing him to lead the way. He nodded seeing your seriousness, You followed him all the way back to Quantico after calling your Dean. It had some perks, being the Director of Criminology at Georgetown. It almost made you giggle it sounded so ludicrous.

You flashed your badge having consulted on a few cases for different departments of the FBI. Security let you through in a flash. You’d never worked with Spencer on an actual case of his. Hell, he’d normally figure it out before he’d ever dream of pulling an outsider into the team. But even he knew he was missing something. A puzzle piece he couldn’t seem to find. That’s when he thought of you. His longtime friend from postgrad. The two of you were ostracized early in your studies. You for being an incredibly intelligent female and him because he was a know it all. The two of you found each other and the rest was history. You stayed in academia while consulting on the side and Spencer went the FBI route. Luckily, you’d stayed in touch through all the years. You found it easy to love him as a friend once you knew how to deal with the boy genius.

“Team, this is Y/N. Y/N, the team.” Spence said quickly once he all but yanked you into the large conference room on the floor. Your eyes glossed over each of them quickly before falling to the one on the end. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, and a smoldering look? Whew, he was just your type. He’d make you nervous. You didn’t see a ring on his finger as you scanned him from head to toe quickly.

You nodded bashfully. You could lecture hundreds of students but the eyes of six profilers right on you was rather intimidating, “Hello.” You nodded quickly walking over to the white board that listed intricate details of the case you hadn’t skimmed across in the file.

“Director of Criminology at Georgetown?” The handsome man stood next to you. A quick nod before turning your eyes back to the board.

“Yes, sir.” You cringed at your own voice sounding so unsure of herself. That wasn’t like you, not at all.

You noticed the hard stare turn to curiosity for a second before the stoic gaze returned, “Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief.”

Ahh, the infamous Hotchner. You had to admit it was almost fun putting faces to the names you’d heard from Spencer throughout all the years. At no time did he mention that Hotch was as striking as you’d found him to be. It never crossed your mind to find them online. It seemed too invasive on Spencer’s life but now you were second guessing that decision.

“Nice to meet you Agent Hotchner.”

He wasn’t being unfriendly, but he certainly wasn’t warm. You could tell he didn’t want you here but agreed out of necessity. They weren’t able to save the seven-year-old boy and Aaron was sure as hell not going to let the little eight-year-old girl meet the same fate because of pride. Even though it stung.

He didn’t reply though, only giving you a quick nod. He stood there rereading the same damn sentences he’d read over a thousand times over the last week.

“This is the order they were taken and killed?” You pointed to the wall seeing the boy-girl pattern curiously.

“Seven-year-old boy and then an eight-year-old girl every time. Over and over.” It sounded like the case had depleted him entirely. Haunted eyes scanned over each of the children’s faces. Helpless. All looking eerily similar too each other.

“And you all interviewed 21 suspects in northern Virginia.” You stated more than questioned as you looked up to the curious eyes. They were expecting you, but they weren’t expecting you.

The blonde woman nodded with a gentle look settling on her face, “All dead ends.”

“Can I read their case files?” You asked ready to spend the next few hours scouring over the notes. Maybe a fresh set of eyes could pick up on something they’d missed.

She nodded running out of the room to grab them. Spencer watched you before joining you at the table as you read through the entire file from where you left off in the car. You thanked JJ when she set another

“Y/N will stay here with Reid. The rest of us, we’re heading back out.” Spencer nodded reading what you were. Still not seeing anything. He watched as you scrunched your eyebrows and highlighted certain words on the page. Gray Honda. Black scooter. Pink bike. What were you onto? What did you see? He wracked his brain as you worked seamlessly between pages.

You read over the next potential suspect. He must’ve heard the small gasp escape from your lips. As he immediately urged you to go on by asking, “What is it?”

“The Darcy’s. We need to go back. There’s something here Spence.” Your finger held over a simple line in the interview. One that’d been glossed over. A seemingly useless detail in a sea of muddled mess of facts and fiction.

He shook his head not getting it continuing to urge on with his eyes, “He messed up. He slipped up and said gray.” You started reading from the transcript, “He said, ‘I took the car out for a spin at that time.’ And then JJ asked, ‘What kind of car to you drive Mr. Darcy?’ He responded, ‘A gray… shoot I mean black Honda Civic. Sold the gray one last year to a family member.’”

His head cocked, “A gray Honda Civic... oh, shit.” He dove into the papers finding exactly what you were looking for, “The interview with the witness who found the body. She spotted a gray Honda along her route.”

You nodded, “She thought it was odd because it was so early in the morning. Nobody is ever out.”

“We need to call Penelope.” Spencer gaped.

He pulled out his phone, “Garcia, who did David Darcy’s sell his car to last year?”

She hummed, “Well hello to you too! Give me a second boy genius.” You heard her typing away through the speaker phone, “Looks like it’s Mike Darcy. His brother.”

He looked at you with nothing but approval. He knew you were good at your job, but this was exceptional. You’d pieced it together so easily he was almost embarrassed he hadn’t caught that himself, “What do you have on him?” He asked. Again, silence with more typing before another really long silence and the faintest gasp.

“Garcia?” Spencer was finding it rather infuriating he was the one on the other side. He was the one who couldn’t seem to piece it all together. It wasn’t like him.

“He lost his entire family in a car accident two years ago. His wife and two children.”

He was shaking his head know all too well the aged of those two children, “An eight-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy?”

“They don’t call you boy genius for nothing right?” Her laugh sounded strained but relieved. It wasn’t an easy life. Often times so much harder than you could ever dream of. The horror of humanity never ceased to amaze you in the worst ways imaginable.

“Thanks Penny. We gotta call Hotch.” Reid’s eyes were huge before as he dialed his boss’s number, “Hotch, you’re never going to believe this.” He walked off spouting off everything you’d just concluded. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, you listened to your friend off in the distance. It had to be the brother. That had to be the missing puzzle piece.

You felt somebody watching you as you cleaned the files up. You’d begged Spencer to let you go but he straight up refused. Hotch wanted to talk to you or some bullshit like that. You’d, very reluctantly, agreed.

“We looked for days.” His voice sounded harsher. A bit meaner than it did earlier. You turned to meet his eyes that looked how his voice sounded, unhappy with you.

“Just needed a fresh set of eyes was all.” His eyes didn’t change. His state only seemed to harden as he took you in.

“Thank you. She was found safe.” It sounded as if it was torturing him to give you the thanks.

You nodded quickly turning back around to clean the mess up, “Anytime.” He didn’t look bad by any means. Must’ve been a pretty easy arrest. You’d seen Spencer at his worst after unsub’s had been confronted. It was inevitable when you hunted the worst of humanity.

“We won’t be needing your services any longer.” Your heart both sped up and dropped a little at that statement. He didn’t like you. Plain and simple. Had you done something to piss him off? Upset him somehow? You ran through the events of the last few hours and came up miserably short. You’d just have to ask Spencer later.

Before you could respond though an older, almost more intimidating than him, woman walked into the room shaking her head, “That’s not what we agreed on Aaron.” She turned to smile at you, “Erin Strauss, BAU Section Chief.” She walked over to shake your hand eyeing you up. You’d were curious to what she was thinking as she approached you.

“I didn’t agree.” He all but mumbled out. That didn’t sound like the intimidating man that had just tried to put you in your place moments before.

“One vote matters more.” She turned to him. She must’ve given him a look you couldn’t see because he mumbled an agreement. It was surely a sight to be seen. Spencer would eat this one up later. Your longtime friend loved gossiping even though he’d never admit to it.

“That was impressive.” She kept sizing you up, profiling you. She wasn’t shy about doing it either. She’s the big boss and she knew it, used it.

“A new set of eyes can do wonders.” You’d downplay it, for Aaron’s sake. Not that he deserved any of your mercy at this point. He hadn’t exactly been the nicest too you.

She nodded quick, “Sure.” She didn’t have the time to go back and forth with you, “You teach close?”

“Yes I do. Georgetown.” You kept it short and sweet not bothering to elaborate with details she clearly didn’t care about.

A smile broke out on her face, “Dean Willow is a dear old friend of mine. I’ll give him a call. We may call in the future. That is if you want.”

She was giving you the option now, “I would like that. Real world examples are invaluable for my students.” You could’ve sworn you heard a scoff from over her shoulder.

She smiled though, “Wonderful. I’ll give him a call later. Nice to meet you Doctor?” She questioned trying to find out more about you.

You nodded giving her the confirmation you too were one, just like Reid. He wasn’t the only one with a PhD, “Nice to meet you as well Erin.”

She walked off quickly leaving you alone with Aaron. Instead of chatting with him you turned back to the table trying to finish what you’d started long ago, cleaning the damn table up.

“You have no right.” His voice was much louder, much closer now.

Heart hammering in your chest you had to be strategic here, “It was an offer.” Your voice was soft, too soft, and gentle for the moment. You hated confrontation this aggressively, it always seemed to get the best of you.

His lips pursed as he considered his words, “Stay out of the way.” Was all he said before walking out just like Aaron. Yikes. That couldn’t have gone worse.

You’d been called back for almost every local case and even a few further away ones that needed urgency on the clock. That’s where you’d seemed to thrive when the clock was ticking. It never seemed to get better with Aaron. He was cold with you. Never downright mean but brushing the line that he knew he couldn’t cross. Still, you’d never seemed to grow to dislike the man. Spencer let it slip that he felt like he let the entire team down when I came in and solved a case in hours.

You knew how finnicky pride could be. You knew just how dangerous that emotion could turn out to be. You’d let it get the better of you a few times. That was the difference between life and death though. The difference between bringing a family back together or giving them the worst news of their lives. So, you’d give Aaron a pass even if he didn’t really deserve it.

You’d also grown to adore his team. You’d made sure to ask Spencer time and time again to confirm that you weren’t overstepping but he shook it off each time telling you that he enjoyed having you on some of the cases. It brought him back to the fun they had in post-grad all those years ago. Naturally, you’d gravitated towards your friend during the cases you’d been asked to join. Aaron’s eyes always seemed to be glaring at you whenever you caught him. You had a sneaking suspicion you didn’t catch him nearly as often as you did.

Spencer would always just tell you that it was just Aaron. But it had been months now and he was still as ice cold as he was on day one. One by one you’d become close with each of the other members but never dreamed of approaching him. He’d let you know just how much he disliked you. You’d gotten the message loud and clear.

A call came through in the dead of night waking you from the light sleep you were in, always ready, “Hello?” You sounded groggy.

“Y/N. It’s Strauss. Another abduction. Fifteen-year-old girl this time.” She didn’t elaborate waiting for your response.

You sighed, “Why is it always children? I’ll be there in forty.”

Sleepily, you drove into Quantico. You were delighted to see you were the last on there, the team already at work. Yawning you slipped into the conference room greeted by a rather

“Y/N! You’re here. I was getting nervous.” Emily smiled patting your shoulder before moving over next to JJ.

Derek laughed, “Pretty boy was just about to call.”

You grinned looking over at Spence, “Sorry guys, the apartment is closer to Georgetown than it is here.” Your commute was just under an hour. Forty minutes if you pushed it.

“We’re just glad you’re here.” JJ chimed in patting the seat next to her, “We think we have a lead, come take a look.”

Hotch watched in awe as you moved to sit next to her. You’d seamlessly integrated yourself as a semi-permanent member of his team. They’d all seen you an integral member to specific types of cases. Cases that had time constraints. And unfortunately for you that seemed to be child abductions more often than not. Had he been too harsh on you? Was he doing it to protect his team that didn’t even need it? He had a sinking feeling he already knew the answers to those questions, and it wasn’t going to be what he wanted to hear.

He continued to watch as Rossi joked with you, Reid smiled far more often than he’d been used to, Derek already gave you the nickname ‘pretty girl’ to match Spencer’s own pretty boy. You brought ease and order to the team. You took the stress and siphoned it out of a situation. Even Aaron had to admit you were a hell of a profiler. He wasn’t blind either. He found you exceptionally beautiful. A detail Spencer conveniently left out.

He knew he might’ve already burnt that bridge with you though. He’d been nothing but an ass to you. You’d never snapped back though. Always taking everything in grace. You knew the pecking order and it wasn’t up to you to dismantle that or shake up the status quo.

Spencer noticed Hotch’s apprehension to his friend. Spence felt awful that his boss had yet to warm up to you. You were nothing but kind and incredibly good at your job. A combination that Hotch was usually a sucker for. Was his pride really that badly wounded?

He heard you let out a string of cuss words seeing the pictures of the last crime scene. Brutal. Absolute brutality. Whomever was doing this to children was beyond help.

“Jeeze Y/N, you kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?” Derek smirked laying it on thick. That comment brought Hotch right back into the present far too curious to hear what you had to say.

You threw your head back in laughter, “Hardly Derek. Between the teaching, directing and this. I don’t have the time to go meet anybody.”

Derek’s eyes flicked to Hotch’s so quickly even you didn’t catch it, “Who says you haven’t met him already?” Your eyes found his, a fiendish persona reveled in your bashfulness after tops of your cheeks turned a twinge pink.

You couldn’t let him win like that. Not with all those eyes listening in to the conversation intently, “In your wildest dreams Morgan.” A wink sent him into a fit of laughter. He too loved your ability to give and take. Knowing how to play along with him seamlessly.

Hotch coughed drawing all those curious eyes back to him, “Let’s get moving. Reid and JJ head back to police station and update the chief on the latest. Emily and Rossi go update the family. Morgan and Y/N you’re with me. Unsubs house.” You gave him a twisted look. You’d never been with him, and you’d certainly never been to an Unsubs residence while on a case. You were a profiler. A professor. Not a cop. Not comfortable with confrontation your heart was already picking up the pace just thinking about it.

“I don’t think this is a great idea sir…” You’d managed to mumble out once most of the team had cleared the room. You were sure your nervousness was full front, and center displayed across your facial features.

He cocked his head studying you again. Always studying you. Always on guard around you, “I think it is.”

You cursed under your breath almost embarrassed to admit it to him, “I’ve never done that before, going to an active scene.”

He shrugged loosening his gaze a smidge for the first in front of you, “First time for everything. You’ve been through the training in the last few months. You can do it.” He nodded eyeing the door but making sure your head was in it before he left. Last thing he needed was you not 100% ready and getting injured. He knew you were ready for it though. He’d had a daft curiously of how you’d handle that type of pressure.

The three of you sped to the crime scene. Morgan forced you to sit up front by diving into the truck and taking the entirely of the back seat up shooting you a sly grin before shutting the door. You felt the weight of the bulletproof vest

“Stay behind me, pretty girl. We’ll go room to room on the main level.” Derek spoke with conviction once the three of you made it to the front of the home. Your heart was hammering so hard you could hear the blood echoing in your ears. Focus. You could do this. Aaron believed you could.

Hotch nodded, “I’ll take upstairs. Listen to Morgan.” He ordered before nodding at Derek. All hell broke loose as you went room to room clearing. Before you heard the gunshots upstairs. Morgan rushed upstairs with you behind him. Hotch stood with his gun pointed at the now deceased unsub who had a shotgun in his own procession.

“The girl. Where is she?” You asked turning away from the blood spatter that laced the wall behind the body.

“Go, find her.” He barked turning away from the kill. You prayed that was something you never had to do.

You ran out downstairs searching. It wasn’t until you found the basement door that you flew down there. A strangled gasp came from your throat as you spotted the girl in the corner on a bloody mattress. You shuddered at the thought that it wasn’t only her blood coating that mattress.

“Hotch! Morgan! She’s down here!” You bellowed out dropping the gun immediately and softening your expression after witnessing the shaking, bound girl. She’d been beat up. Quite a few times by the look of differently faded bruises littered haphazardly around her hardly dressed body.

You unzipped your jacket clutching it in your hand. Putting your hands up you dropped down to your knees keeping a distance away letting her know you weren’t a threat. You put your hands up, “Hi sweetheart. My name is Y/N. I work for the FBI and we’re here to help you. Can I bring you this jacket to cover up?” You asked her in your most gentle voice. Like you were talking to the most helpless soul on the planet. She might’ve been at that very moment.

Aaron and Derek watched from the stairwell as you stood up walking over to her with slow small steps. Once you reached her you dropped down again, “Is it alright if I touch you? What hurts the worst sweetheart?”

She shook her head before breaking. Breaking down completely. The tears turned to ugly sobs. She reached out for you, and you grabbed her quickly. Pulling her right into your embrace. She fisted your shirt like her life depended on it unaware of the two men watching the scene unfold before them. They’d called for an ambulance and just had to wait. But you were there for her. He felt a light flutter in his stomach as he watched you caress her face and play with her hair. Whispering in her ear and hold her tight. You were a natural. Aaron could see it plain as day now.

Slowly her harsh wails turned to strained tears. Almost all her energy depleted as she leaned on you. You wrapped your jacket around her small frame to cover whatever decency she had left. The poor babies life was over as she knew it. Her life was going to be an uphill battle from this point going forward. Your heart shattered as you brought her back into your chest. Whispering those sweet reassurances to the utterly broken girl sitting in your lap.

Once the ambulance took her away Hotch turned towards you observing once more. Your usually chipper grin was downturned. It had affected you more than he had sensed. It was hard. Impossible sometimes. And this was a good outcome. An exceptional one even.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked finally letting that guard down.

You nodded so softly he didn’t know if you truly meant it or not, “Yeah. I just… I’ve never done that. Spence always told me stories, but I guess… I don’t know.” You sighed at a loss for words.

He stepped forward placing a hand on your shoulder this time, “It’s okay. It’s difficult. We all know. But think of the good you’d done. You were there for her when she needed it most. We didn’t train you for that. You’re just a good person. Don’t let this job ever take that away from you.”

Your mouth almost dropped as listened to him. He was always a man of so few words this felt like an all on speech for you. So long was that hard gaze you grew to expect over the last few months and was replaced with something much softer and kinder. The look he gave him other agents. The ones he’s known and worked with for years. Maybe Spence was right, maybe he was warming up to you a bit.

Things had been going well. Another month had passed, and you’d been called on for few more cases. You’d refused pay simply because you came and went as you had time. You called it tunning up for your professorship.

Aaron had completely warmed up to you over that time. You were still terribly timid around him. Old habits died hard with you. But he was trying. Making small gestures when you were around. Getting you coffee, holding open the door for you, smiling a little bit more.

It wasn’t lost on the team. They’d seen the change even if you refused to. Spencer constantly bugged you about it once Morgan put a big in his ear. Planted a seed that bloomed in that beautiful brain of his.

Aaron had a scowl on his face watching you and Spencer joke around in the conference room. Why weren’t you even remotely like that with him?

“You could just tell her instead of shooting daggers at Reid.” Derek clapped his bosses back cracking a smile at him.

“She doesn’t like me.” The scowl dropped as he turned towards his agent.

“So, you think. More intimidated by you than doesn’t like you. You were kind of an ass there for a while.” Derek egged his boss on. It wasn’t often he was able to get under his skin.

Aaron rolled his eyes, through gritted teeth he answered him, “I know Morgan.”

“Why were you anyway?” He asked, digging for more and more. The true king of gossip at Quantico.

He shrugged, “To protect you guys. She was an outsider. We didn’t know anything about her.”

Derek let out a laugh that even drew your attention away from Spencer and over to them. Giving them a sheepish wave, you looked away back to Spence quickly. Aaron’s hard eyes turned soft made you feel a certain type of way. He was back to being that handsome man you first laid eyes on. A man who seemed so far out of your league it was laughable.

“Whatever you want to tell yourself boss man. But we both know that’s not the case. It’s okay to have feelings after Haley. It’s been years Hotch.” Morgan squeezed his shoulders urging his friend on, “I’m going to go grab Reid. Go apologize and tell her how you feel. You might be surprised. Go be happy instead of being jealous.”

He mumbled something incoherent but didn’t stop him. Spencer gave Derek a knowing look. You waved him off turning back to the case you were reviewing. It wasn’t a moment later the same chair Spencer

“I’m sorry.” He spit it out certainly not afraid to beat around the bush with it.

Tilting your head to the side you asked, “What for?”

“Being an ass your first few months here.” Again, he was com

You were a bit stunned, “Oh, thanks. I’m happy to be here.”

“You are an exceptional profiler Y/N and an incredible asset to this team. You’ve got a heart of gold. You work with victims better than anybody I’ve seen. Do you know how heartwarming that is to witness? You’re a natural with it all. So, I’m sorry. I’m so happy to have you here.” He let out a breath after airing it out there.

Your heart rate sped up to that rapid rate that made you feel almost uncomfortable, “You mean it?”

“Every last word.” He looked at you expectantly. It could go either way. Either really good or horrifically bad.

You gave him your first genuine smile. One he’s seen come out for everybody else except for him. Until now, “Thank you Aaron. That was very kind.”

He nodded, “Of course. It’s the truth.” You could tell he wanted to say more but didn’t know how to.

You felt a weird surge of confidence brush over you, “For the record. I’ve really enjoyed working for you. With you. I’ve learned a lot.” You too wanted to say something more, but the words were impossible to think of.

The tension was thick. But Aaron decided to cut it. Throwing caution to the wind, “Since you technically don’t work here I don’t think what I’m going to say next is really crossing the line.” He breathed taking a second before gathering the courage he needed, “You are absolutely beautiful Y/N. Inside and out. You’ve been chipping away at my heart ever since you stepped into this world. You are exceptional. I like you. Way more than a boss should. Way more than a friend should.”

Your mouth did drop this time. That was everything you wanted to hear and exactly what you expected not to hear. He liked you? You’d thought back on the month and didn’t see the signs. It seemed so obvious once he spoke it so clearly.

You started giggling at the hilarity of it all.

“What?” He asked smiling, easing back in his chair feeling eased by the lightness of the room.

“I can profile everything but my own damn life.” You kept giggling only to be stopped when he grabbed your hands.

“You’re even prettier when you laugh like that.”

Your blush was mad by now, “Thank you Aaron.”

“Would you let me take you out sometime? On a date? A proper one. Where we get dressed really nice. I’ll take you to a fancy restaurant. All that jazz.”

You smiled even wider, “If that’s really what you want.”

Squeezing your hand as a confirmation he nodded, “Pretty girl, it’s all I want.” His grin was everything as you both sat there smiling at each other like two lovesick fools.

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nipuni · 15 days

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Time for an old school blog post, Hello!

Just various updates about life and shows and clothes and some photos! Adding a read more cut because I talk too much 😊

Happy equinox everyone!! The mild weather has been wonderful for daily park walks. We have been taking our meals outside as often as we can to make the most of it before summer scorches the land and all life. The longer days allow for a lot more wandering too but the imminent return of the heat is also making the longing to move up north worse by the day. We miss the choppy ocean and seaside cliffs 😭 We love the silence and the rain and the nippy sea breeze!! it's like being suspended in early spring for half the year and a rainy autumn the other half, Ideal if you don't mind humidity, but that's what wellies and flat caps are for. We have been looking for properties to rent to show up everyday so for now we lie in wait.

Speaking of nature, a few months ago we discovered a free app called Plantnet that you use to take and upload photos of plants, trees, flowers and it will identify them for you. You keep a log with their locations and can share them too to help contribute to each local biodiversity database. It feels like a pokedex for plants. There are many apps like this one to choose from too. It's been so fun learning what all these plants are called and memorizing them! I recommend it, is like a little educational side quest to take on while stretching your legs and getting some fresh air. This is not an ad I promise lmao I just think it's neat! kind of sad feeling the need to clarify that.

This weather is also making me want to start making outfit posts again! It's been so long since I made any!! my winter wardrobe is mostly long wool coats or capes and boots so the inspiration wasn't there but now I'm ready to pull out all my stuff back from under my bed storage and experiment again 👏 I've also been meaning to share some of Nicolas outfits for ages too so there is more variety, could be fun!

Speaking of clothes, lately I've grown more and more frustrated with how poorly most clothes fit me to the point where I'm considering learning how to make them from scratch. I usually have to take in the tops and hem the bottoms but most things I try on are just built weird even if I fix the size, or maybe I'm built weird! I think it may be both. Nicolas also said he would love to learn along with me so we will probably embark on that adventure soon. OH and on a short tangent, I got myself a sort of binder-like top that flattens the chest a bit and I'm loving it! I'm very flat already but what little bust I do have has always bothered me when I dress and I've found I feel a lot more comfortable in this type of top. I'm glad I tried it out so if you feel similarly you may want to give it a go too, see how it feels!

On the media side of things we have also been watching more of David Tennant's work. We are still very much in love with him to an embarrassing degree, you can probably tell if you follow me anywhere, my likes on twitter alone give me away alksjdf and Nicolas isn't any better! if he used social media his would look the same lmao.

Since my last report we have watched and absolutely LOVED "There She Goes" we already want to watch it again honestly. The family dynamics for all his characters are always so real and refreshing!! Their relationship with their wives especially are always so believable in every series we've seen, the comfort and camaraderie, the banter and just friendship! You can tell they enjoy each other's company, it feels true. I love it so much!!

We also watched "Inside man" which was..a very stressful mess but David was incredible as always, also very hot and very pitiful which is always great, and Stanley Tucci was on it! so that's also fun.

Then we rewatched season one of Good Omens and the first 4 seasons of Doctor Who, with all the extra content like the Confidentials, deleted scenes, video diaries and more, they are just so good!! our list of favourite episodes keeps growing, season four is incredible, we are loving all these seasons even more the second time around!! Now we are probably going to start watching either Classic Who or Torchwood, along with more of David's work. We were trying to pick what to watch during dinner the other day and Nicolas was like 'damn, David is not in this though, I miss him' and lmao same so now we just watch one show without him and one with him right after to cope 😂

OH we have also been doing more historical reenactment! Since the last one in the 20's we jumped back to Regency times. We have been putting our outfits together for a ball soon and hopefully another one in autumn in the UK 😊 1800 is the farthest back in time we've been yet so it's been fun doing research, finding pieces and learning the dances in class but also very hectic. I'll share more about this soon!

Then we also have a couple of 1900 events coming soon, so I'll be sharing more Edwardian looks as well, our favourite era!!

Anyway I think that's all for now, thanks for reading to whoever is doing so!! I know this is long and not a popular blogging format anymore but I enjoy it a lot, maybe some of you do too 🥰 I will reply to some messages soon, I'm so sorry I'm so bad at keeping up with those!! I've read them all and cherish every word 🥺 Thank you for supporting my art and shenanigans as always!! I hope you have a great week!!

#personal #nips photos #DW report #of sorts tho I should swap to DT report at this point lmao #I may need a blogging tag so let's just do #Nips blogs #that should suffice

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ourautumn86 · 1 year

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Your writing makes me feral. No pressure but I can’t stop thinking about coming home early from filming to surprise you and sees your sex toys out on the bed and he’s kinda jealous kinda mad because you promised him that you wouldn’t touch your self whilst he was away

a/n; OMG YESS, the spanking and the edging that would come afterwards..😮‍💨

a/n 2; i changed the ‘filming’ to working on his construction business. this fic is pre-outbreak! <3

okay this is pure filth, so minors dni!!!

joel miller x fem reader!

cw; 18+ content!, masturbation (r), use of toys, getting caught, angry sex, jealousy, name calling (slut, whore…), degradation, praising, daddy kink, punishment, spanking, dacryphilia (kinda?), choking, hair pulling, fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex (guys wrap the dong up), cream pie, cock warming, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms…

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

you had promised joel that you would wait for him. but it was so fucking hard to wait when you had been separated for so long and you missed him so much…

he had had to go on a business trip for the construction of a new house up north, and it had been a long fucking week.

your job had been exhausting, and not having him at home made you feel so lonely it was eating you alive.

it didn’t help the fact that he looked and sounded so good when you’d call. he was so handsome, with his bear and mustache, his big nose and doe brown eyes…

you couldn’t think for too long about him or you’d start feeling needy, without letting your mind wonder to those nights were he’d make you cum with just his mouth and fingers. you had been so stressed that your body needed release, and without joel there, you couldn’t have it.

you weren’t supposed to have it. you had promised.

but you had to. your body was begging for it. and temptation was too strong. you couldn’t help yourself when your hands started to roam down your body. you had just came home from your job, and you were exhausted, your body tense —even if your recent call with joel had made you feel better—, due to some ungrateful and rude customers you had had to deal with.

a sigh left your lips when your hands found your chest, grabbing at your tits and teasing your nipples though your bra and shirt. god, it felt fucking amazing.

“joel…” you whimpered as you pulled down your pants and your panties to lay completely exposed. you shivered when your fingers met your wet and sticky cunt, ready to be filled.

you moaned as you softly and slowly started to press against your clit, sighing in pleasure. in your mind there was only joel, joel and his hands, joel and his lips, joel and his cock… how he’ll praise you when you’d take him whole, how he’ll eat you out when you most needed him…

you whimpered as you pushed your fingers inside, perfectly wet for your middle and ring to slip right in. you started to slowly fuck them in and out of you, moaning and arching your back. “please, fuck joel…” your fingers were not as thick and large as his, and you were quick to notice it, being unable to reach that perfect spot deep within your walls. “fuck.” you were about to break his second and most important rule: don’t to use your toys if he was not with you.

but you needed so bad to cum that you couldn’t care less, you’d make it quick, and then you’d place it everything back to place.

you took out your toy box, deciding to go for your big baby blue vibrator. you liked that one a lot because its girth was similar to joel’s cock, and because it also stimulated your clit at the same time.

you teased yourself as you slid it along your puffy lips, lubing it up, shivering when it would bump against your clit. you slowly pressed it against your entrance, and you let out a breathy moan as it finally started to fill you up inch by inch. it felt amazing, even more when you turned it on and the vibrations instantly hit your clit.

“fuck.” you whimpered. it had been a long time since you had touched yourself, and you were already so close to cumming it felt embarrassing.

your back arched as your mind got lost in the pleasure, your clit being stimulated making your thighs shake.

you touched and gripped your tits, imagining joel was there, that he was the one making you feel this good, that touched you and whispered all the right things onto your ear to bring you to your orgasm faster.

it didn’t take long before you were falling apart, your moans loud and pornographic, your walls clenching around the toy as you came all over it, staining it on white.

your breathing was ragged as you came down, your head lolling to the side and whole body going numb. it felt so good to finally blow up some steam, so good to finally be able to relax back onto your bed.

but not for long, ‘cause before you knew, the door to your apartment was being opened. you frowned, your face going white in panic when you heard joel’s voice call out for you. joel, your boyfriend who wasn’t supposed to come back ‘till a few days more, who had ordered you to not dare touch yourself, and who was nearing your bedroom.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you muttered under your breath, hissing when you pulled out your vibrator from your sensitive cunt, fumbling with your panties to pull them up your legs as you tried and save all the toys back inside the box, but it was too late.

“baby, are you-“ your body froze just as joel’s eyes found you, you and your messy hair, you and your naked legs, you and your messed up clothes and makeup, you and the toys you had promised you wouldn’t use without permission… “y/n.” he said your name, and your whole body shook.

“joel, i-“ you tried and explain but your mind was empty. you had gone blank.

“you touched yourself? even when you i told you not to?” you shivered when he took a step closer. your cheeks were red due to your recent orgasm, and your thighs still trembled.

“i’m sorry.” you whimpered when he closed the distance between you two. he looked pissed. “it’s just that i missed you so bad, and i’ve had such a hard week, i-“ you cried out when one of his rough and big hands wrapped around your neck, silencing you up.

“shut the fuck up.” he muttered, and you gulped, you could smell the scent of cigarettes on his breath. you’d missed it so much that your pussy was throbbing with need once again. ‘cause he looked so good when angry, and he was looking at you with those brown eyes that made you shake. “there’s no way out of this, baby, you know what you’ve done.” you whimpered when his grip tightened, his lips brushing yours. “you broke my rules, honey, and you know what that means. you’ve been a bad girl…” his free hand came to cup your jaw, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip. “and bad girls deserve punishments.” your cunt throbbed, a moan leaving your lips. “look at you.” he clicked his tongue. “you’re such a fucking slut. you wanted this, isn’t that right? wanted me to find out and punish you like the little whore you are.” you nodded your head, and you hissed when he pulled you closer by your neck. “speak up. what are you?”

“a bad girl.” you muttered against his lips, tears breaming your eyes. you needed him to kiss you. and now.

“and what do bad girls deserve?” his tongue dampened his lips.

“a punishment.” you answered, your cheeks glowing red.

“that’s it. atta girl.” he hummed, and you moaned. “now…” you almost whimpered when he let go of you, taking a seat on your bed. “you know what to do.”

you nodded, and with wobbly legs followed him, crawling on the bed and settling with your thighs and tummy on his lap, ass on full display for him.

you let out a sigh when you felt his hands massaging it, slapping slightly your skin and make you hiss.

“how many times did you cum, huh?” he inquired, and you took a hold on the sheets, relaxing, ‘cause you knew that if you didn’t it would hurt more.

“once, joel, please…” you cried out when a harsh spank came down on your ass, making you jolt.

“you know bad girls can’t call me that, baby. what do bad girls call me?” he inquired, soothing the sting with his palm. “answer me.” he ordered and spanked you once again.

“daddy!” you cried out, and he hummed.

“that’s it. see? that wasn’t that difficult, hm?” you gasped when he ripped the lace apart with his fingers, throwing away your underwear and leaving you bare from your waist down on his lap. “gonna spank you 15 times. you think that would be enough for a slut like you to remember the rules?” he inquired, and when you didn’t answer, he tugged on your hair, bringing your face upwards so you’d look at him. “words.”

“yes, yes daddy.” you muttered, tears already wetting your eyes.

“aw, don’t cry so soon, baby, i haven’t even started yet.” he sarcastically pouted, and let go of you, making your head fall back onto the bed. “you’re gonna be a good girl and count for me out loud. if you miss, i will start over, am i clear?” you nodded, and were quick to answer as well.

“yes, daddy.” you whimpered when he didn’t waste any time, his palm harshly landing on your ass, leaving the skin behind hurt and buzzing. “one…” you struggled to say, your voice barely a mere whisper, all cracked and frail.

the tears started to fall when you got to five, screaming when the sixth came down a little too hard.

“s-six, shit…”

“look at that. you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” you gasped for air when his fingers dipped on your cunt, sticky and dripping in slick, your inner thighs already wet. you were so needy just for him, throbbing for his touch, even if it hurt. “such a fucking slut.” he landed three on one go, and you gripped the sheets, crying and messing them up with your mascara. “i don’t hear you counting.”

“nine!” you quickly said at the threat on his voice.

six to go.

the tenth and eleventh came down making you whimper on pain and move on your spot, his free hand pinning you against his lap.

“don’t fucking move.” he spanked you again, leaving you breathless and shaking.

“thirteen.” you breathed out, stumbling all over your words, stuttering.

“you’re doing good, baby, so good counting for me and taking it…” you whined at the next spank, his palm lingering on your red and irritated skin. you counted, and he hummed. “just two more. two more baby girl.”

and you took them, took them the best you could, your body jerking and trembling on his lap when the last spank came down against your ass, making you moan.

your felt dizzy and heavy, but so fucking horny that you didn’t wait to push against his hand when he cupped your wet glistening cunt.

“fuck, you’re so wet baby…” you cried out when he pushed two of his thick fingers inside, sliding easily due to your arousal. “listen to her. she missed me, huh?” he smirked at the sounds that your cunt was making.

you moaned. “daddy, please…”

“shut up. i’m not done.” you whimpered when he started to fuck them in and out of you, making you shiver and curl on his lap, your clit grinding against his soaked jeans. “gotta take my fingers. and then i’m gonna fuck you, baby.” you moaned at his words, nodding your head and begging for it. ‘yes please, daddy, please…’ “but you won’t come.” you cried at that, tears falling down your cheeks when he pressed against your g spot. “i’m sorry baby, but bad girls don’t get to cum.”

your breath left your lungs when he flipped you on your back, and quickly fumbled with his pants and underwear to throw them aside, standing before you with his big and thick cock beaded in precum. you couldn’t help but moan when you saw him tug from it, his hand surrounding it to pump it, making his red and thick head shine, the veins on the sides to pop. your mouth was watering.

he parted your legs and sighed. “such a shame…” he shook his head, his eyes on your pretty and soaking cunt. “if you only had been a good girl for me, i’d be eating you out right now, honey, making you feel so good…” your body jerked when he pressed the tip along your folds, bumping it against your clit. “but since you went ahead and used your toys…, i guess i’ll have to do the same.” your mouth fell on a moan that was silenced with his hand choking you when he pushed himself inside to the hilt without warning. “fuck.” he cursed. he had missed your pussy so much. “gonna have to use you like a little toy, baby.” he falsely pouted, and you whimpered when he started to rock into you, his tip brushing your cervix. his harshness and speed was making your eyes roll backwards, your nails dig on his forearms and moans leave your mouth. “use you like the little cum dump that you are, fill you up and leave you dripping for me.”

“daddy…” you moaned, he was hitting your g spot over and over again, stretching your cunt open, ripping you apart. but it felt so good… “please, don’t stop.” you begged and he grunted, his grip tightening around your neck.

“fucking slut, begging for it.” he muttered on your neck, harshly sucking bruises on your skin that you’ll proudly wear tomorrow, marking you as his. “you want my cum that bad, baby?” you nodded.

“yes, please daddy, please, need it, need your cum…” your hips were moving against his, trying to make him reach deeper, fuck you harder.

and he did.

“fuck!” you screamed, his pace unrelenting, fucking your brains out and quickly making your second orgasm build. your walls tightened around his cock, sucking him in, the slapping of his balls against your ass filling the room along with his grunts and your whimpers. “need to cum, gonna cum daddy!”

“aw, you need to cum? too bad baby, you can’t. ” he smirked, fucking you harder, feeling your walls milking him dry. you cried out, trying to hold it in even if your mind was going blank and your vision was blurry with tears. “fuck, you’re so tight. so good for me…” you moaned, the oxygen lacking on your lungs due to the grip he had on your neck.

it was impossible, impossible to not cum.

“daddy, i’m cumming! please!” your thighs were shaking, and his fingers against your clit weren’t helping you to try and not soak his cock.

“don’t you fucking dare.” he spat, and his thrusts started to falter. he too was too close to cumming… he couldn’t help it. not when you looked so good under him, crying for him to let you cum, to fill your cunt. “shit, gonna cum.” he groaned against your chest, bra now exposed that he had pulled your shirt up to suck on your tits.

“inside please, want it inside…” you muttered, and moaned when you felt his cock twitch. he groaned, and with one last harsh and deep thrust filled you up with his cum, stopping his movements just when you were about to reach your own orgasm and leaving you whimpering and begging for him to continue, whispering and promising that you’d be good. that you needed him.

“shhh, i know, baby, i know…” he cooed, brushing your hair in between his fingers when he pulled you against his chest and on his lap. “did so good for me, such a good girl…” you whimpered, his softening dick sitting comfortably inside of you, not letting a single drop of his cum get out.

your whole body was tense, and even if you tried to change his mind, he wouldn’t let you cum ‘til the next morning, after making you cock warm him through the whole night, his hands every now and then pulling you and rocking you against his semi hard cock just to watch you suffer, to brand in your head this lesson.

and when the morning finally came, he made you cum over and over again, until you were begging him to stop. but he wouldn’t, not until you wouldn’t cum anymore. ‘cause he had to make you understand that those fucking toys would never fuck you like he could. love you like he could.

a/n; y’all… i have no words. i’m going to hell.

pedro pascal masterlist! <3

xxx

899 notes · View notes

goldengalore · 1 year

Text

The Great War

Summary: Y/N wants to take a break from touring with Harry because the scrutiny from his fans has become too much to handle. During their time apart, Harry misses her deeply, but she seems happier without him. A cheating accusation leads to the biggest fight they’ve ever had.

Warnings: accusations of cheating, Y/N getting bullied, mention of slut-shaming, ANGST, smut (dom!harry, a little rough, choking)

Word count: 7.7k

A/N: This wasn’t originally based on The Great War by Taylor Swift, but while writing, I realized how well it fits the story so I started including elements from the song. Longest fic I’ve posted on here so far, enjoy! :)

***

Y/N has had enough.

She was so excited to go on tour with Harry. When her boss approved her request to work fully remotely for the next few months, she was over the moon because it meant that she could join him on the North American leg of his tour.

But some recent incidents with his fans have left a bad taste in her mouth, making her want to step away for a little while. Usually, she’s quite good at tuning out the nasty things that people say about her, but there is a big difference between someone talking shit about you on the internet versus in person. The latter is much more difficult to ignore.

Y/N had an absolute blast at the first few shows, singing and dancing wildly with Harry’s managers, Jeff and Tommy, in their little area by the pit. It was the fourth show of the tour when things began to go awry. A girl in the front row brought a sign that said, in thick black writing, “Blink twice if Jeff is forcing you to date Y/N # freeharry.”

The sign was huge; it was baffling that security had even allowed it into the venue. The people behind this girl were clearly irritated by the big piece of cardboard blocking their view, but she remained ignorant to the commotion she was causing. No, she was more focused on making sure the sign was visible not only to Harry but also Y/N.

Unfortunately for her, it was also visible to Harry’s managers, who were protective of Y/N like older brothers. Tommy instantly sent a security guard to confiscate the sign.

“What a stupid sign,” said Jeff. “Even if I could make Harry date anyone, it would obviously be Mitch.”

“Oh, obviously,” Y/N joked back.

Harry mentioned the sign to her later. He had noticed it, and the commotion it was creating in pit, during his performance of Daylight. He’d made a mental note to have security take it away once the song was over, but thankfully, Tommy got there first. Y/N told him it was fine, that she didn’t care. And at the time, she really didn’t. Why would she care about the opinion of some random teenage girl?

But at the next show, there was a group of girls at the back of pit who kept shooting her dirty looks, giggling amongst themselves, filming her while she was dancing, thinking they were being discreet. The most annoying part was that at the start of the show, one of them had walked up to Y/N to compliment her outfit, but it quickly became clear that the seemingly kind act was just part of their stupid game. It was like she’d been cast in a high school bullying PSA without her knowledge.

There were several more instances like that at the next few shows. It was getting to the point where Y/N could no longer tell who was being genuine and who wasn’t when they came up to chat with her. Any phones—or even mere glances—pointed in her direction made her feel deeply uncomfortable, like everything about her was being picked apart and scrutinized.

Tonight’s show is in Chicago. Y/N’s plan was to push through this one and wait until the morning to tell Harry that she needs a break from touring. But as she sits in his dressing room, watching him get ready, she can already feel her heart pounding and her stomach churning at the thought of being out there in the crowd tonight, and she realizes that she can’t do it. She just can’t.

When she tells Harry this, he looks at her with eyes full of concern.

“What’s wrong, lovie?”

“Nothing.” A conflicted sigh escapes her. “Let’s talk about it after the show. You need to get ready.”

“No, hey, tell me what’s wrong.” He walks over to the couch where she’s seated.

She really didn’t want to bring this up before the show. It’s just going to put a damper on his mood for the rest of the night. But knowing Harry, he’s not going to relent until she tells him what’s on her mind.

His stylist, Harry Lambert, is in the room with them, sifting through some clothes on the clothes rack.

“Lamby, do you mind if we have a minute alone?” asks Y/N.

“No, of course not. Just come get me when y’all are done.” Lambert leaves the room to give them some privacy.

Harry sits down next to Y/N, folding a leg under him and resting his arm on the back of the couch. She explains everything that’s happened at the shows lately and how it’s been getting to her. When she reveals that she wants to take a break, to get away from it all for a while, the light in his eyes seems to flicker out.

“You—you want to take a break?”

His expression is so despondent that she feels the need to clarify, “From tour, H. Not from our relationship.”

“No, I know. I just—” His gaze shifts to the floor by their feet. “Jesus. I didn’t know it was getting this bad. I mean, I saw the sign, but I thought that was it. I didn’t know people were being that cruel.” He shakes his head, looking at her now. “I should’ve known. I’m sorry. I should’ve noticed what was happening.”

“You couldn’t have. You’re on stage the whole time, focused on putting on a good show, as you should be.”

“No, but we’re in the same bloody room, Y/N. And this was happening in pit. How could I not notice that? Fuck.” He rubs his hands over his face in frustration. “Fuck.”

“It’s not your fault,” she emphasizes, but it’s evident that he doesn’t believe that.

He has always been quite hard on himself about the harassment that Y/N receives from both the media and a certain part of his fanbase. Despite her reassuring him on several occasions that she doesn’t blame him for any of it, it doesn’t always stick.

“I’m going to speak to Jeff about this,” he suddenly says with conviction. “If it’s getting this bad, we need to say something about it publicly. I need to say something.”

His words take her by surprise. It’s rare for him to address any kind of drama publicly. And while it’s sweet that he wants to defend her and set the record straight once and for all, she’s not so sure that it’s the right move.

“What are you even going to say?” she asks. “‘Stop being mean to my girlfriend’? Yeah, that’ll go down real well.” She doesn’t mean to be sarcastic, but she can’t help it. Recent events have made her a little resentful inside. Not at him, just at the situation.

“Well, I’m not going to say it like that. I’ll think of something.”

“Don’t. You don’t need to say anything.”

“Yes, I do.”

She grabs his hand. “Well, I’m asking you not to. Okay? It’s not going to make people stop. It’s just going to bring more attention to me, which is the last thing I need right now.”

He studies her face, then sighs. “Okay. Okay, I won’t. What else can I do?”

“Nothing.”

It’s obvious that this answer is difficult for him to accept.

“Seriously, H. I just need some time away from the shows and the crowds and the traveling. Just until I get my head straight. That’s it.”

He nods and lifts her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on the back of it. “I understand. Take all the time you need.”

***

“Apparently, we’re broken up,” says Y/N, getting comfy in bed with her phone pressed against her ear.

She’s back in London now, in the home that she and Harry share.

“Again?” asks Harry on the other end of the line.

“Yeah! Found out from my mother, who called me in a panic this morning because of some article she read in the Daily Mail about how I haven’t been at your shows for the past two weeks and how that must mean we’ve broken up.”

He chuckles. “Oh, dear.”

“I’ve told her so many times not to believe a thing she reads on that stupid website. If she wants to know something about our relationship, literally all she has to do is ask us.”

“Hey, cut her some slack,” he says kindly. “She’s probably still adjusting to the madness.”

“We’ve been together for two years, H.”

“Well, it took my mum a lot longer than that after I started my career.”

He does have a point, she thinks to herself. Whenever she and her mom get into petty arguments, which happens annoyingly often, he somehow always gets her to see her mom’s side, immediately defusing the tension. That’s probably a big part of why her mom adores him so much.

“So, anyway,” she says, “how are things? How’s tour going?”

“It’s going well,” is all he says about it. “I miss you.”

She feels a twinge in her chest. “I know. I miss you too.”

“When do you think you’ll come back on tour?”

She sighs, rolling onto her back and staring up at the bedroom ceiling. “I don’t know. It’s only been a couple of weeks, and I feel like I’m just starting to get back into a good headspace... I need more time.”

“Okay.” His voice doesn’t give much away, but she knows he’s disappointed with her answer. “Two weeks.” He whistles. “Can you believe we’ve been apart for that long?”

She laughs. “What do you mean? We were apart for months at a time when you were touring last year, remember?”

“Sure, but now I know what it’s like having you on tour with me. Going to bed with you every night, seeing your pretty face every morning, watching you dance like a mad woman at my shows...”

She lets out another laugh.

“I’m spoiled now,” he says.

“So spoiled.”

There’s a brief pause where she can hear him shuffling around.

“Are you in bed right now?” he asks.

“Yup.”

“What are you wearing?”

She smirks, knowing exactly where this is going. They used to do this all the time when he was on tour last year—touch themselves while making flirty, filthy comments at each other over the phone, sometimes over video.

“One of your sweatshirts and—”

“Which one?” he interjects.

Looking down at her torso, she replies, “The blue Pleasing one with the frog on it.”

“Ooh, good choice. What else?”

“Just panties.”

“Hmm... That’s far too much clothing you’ve got on there.”

Her smirk grows wider. “Oh, really?”

“Mhm. Think you need to take some of it off... Or all of it.”

Giddy excitement takes over her. She sits up in bed. “If you say so! I’m putting you on speaker phone.”

Placing the phone next to her, she removes the sweatshirt, then her panties.

“Okay, clothes are off,” she tells him.

“Good girl. Now—”

His voice suddenly cuts off. She frowns, wondering if she’s lost him.

“Hello? H?”

“Sorry, I’m getting another call. Need to take this. Be back in a sec.”

She sits there and waits for him to return to the call. A couple minutes later, he’s back.

“Hey, my love, I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to go.”

Her excitement deflates. “Aw, really?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “I was supposed to meet with Rob tonight but just found out he can’t make it, so he wants to have our chat over the phone now instead. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she tells him, suppressing the slight frustration she felt at being interrupted right as the fun was starting. “Good luck with the call.”

“Thank you. I love you. We’ll talk tomorrow,” he says in a haste.

“Love you.”

And with that, he hangs up. She flops back down on the bed, still naked after he made her undress. Looks like she’ll just have to make herself cum by imagining what else he was going to make her do on the phone, which isn’t nearly as fun as actually being on the phone with him... But oh well.

***

It’s a bright, sunny day out. The middle of October, so there’s a slight chill in the air but not quite cold yet, and some of the trees have shed their leaves while others still hang on to theirs.

Half of the North American tour is over. To celebrate and thank the crew for all their hard work so far, Harry decided they should have a crew barbecue on a day off between shows. He likes making sure that every single person involved with the tour feels appreciated. As the performer, he gets all the praise and attention from the fans, so it can be easy to feel invisible or undervalued if you’re someone who works more behind the scenes.

That is also why he makes an effort to walk around and chat with everyone at these barbecues, ask them about their lives and their families back home, make them the focus of attention for once.

During his conversation with the lighting technician, Laura, she brings up Y/N.

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask. Is Y/N coming back on tour?”

The question catches him off guard because he’s been trying hard not to think about Y/N’s absence.

“Um, yeah, probably,” he replies, though he’s not even sure if he believes that himself.

“When do you think she’ll be back?”

He stares down at the cup of lemonade in his hands. “I don’t know... At some point.”

“It’s awful, the things I see on the internet about her sometimes.” Laura tuts and shakes her head. “I feel so bad for her. She seems like a sweet girl.”

He nods. “She is.”

“I hope she knows none of us here believe any of that crap. I had a lot of nice conversations with her.”

When he speaks to a few other crew members, they ask him the same thing—if Y/N is ever coming back. He never realized how much of an impact she made on these people, even though she was only around for two weeks. It’s not surprising though. She has such a warm presence that after you meet her, everything else feels cold to the touch.

All of this talk about Y/N leaves him feeling a multitude of emotions. Love and longing, sadness and guilt.

After the barbecue is over, he steps away to give her a call. He wants to tell her all the nice things people said about her today in the hopes that she’ll realize how loved and accepted she is here. But she doesn’t pick up.

He sighs and decides to open up Instagram. Lately, he has been getting doses of her by looking through the photos and stories posted by her close friends. Y/N stopped posting much on her own Instagram soon after they got together and people started bombarding her page with vile comments. So, her friends are his best source of Y/N content.

Their recent stories reveal that she went out to a concert last night. This is the third one she’s been to in the past couple weeks. In one clip, she’s singing along and dancing with a girl he recognizes as her best friend Michelle. In the next one, there’s a guy dancing between them, his arms strewn around both women’s shoulders. Harry doesn’t know who he is, but he’s been in a lot of the posts lately. And Y/N is always somewhere near him.

As he scrolls through Michelle’s posts, he notices Y/N in the background of a photo taken at some party. She’s standing with that same guy, her head tilted back in laughter. Then there’s a video of the whole friend group saying goodbye to each other at the end of a night out, and Y/N is giving the guy a hug.

Harry experiences two separate pangs of jealousy at once. One is the result of seeing Y/N so carefree and comfortable at other people’s shows. He knows it’s selfish, but he just wishes she felt that comfortable at his shows as well.

The other is the result of seeing some other guy all over his girlfriend while he’s an entire ocean away from her.

His phone is turned off and placed back in his pocket. He finishes what’s left of his lemonade, suddenly wishing it was liquor instead.

He needs to get his mind off all this. The barbecue may be over, but he has the rest of the day to do whatever he wants. And while he would normally use this time for something productive—like working out, meditating, or writing music—he’s not in the mood for any of that today. No, he’s only in the mood to drown out his emotions.

***

Despite being back in London, Y/N has still been working remotely. It’s just far more convenient, and she doesn’t have much of a reason to be at the office in person. She can also work whenever she wants, as long as she gets her eight hours in.

On Fridays, she prefers to start work extra early so that she can finish early and get a head start on the weekend. Today, the clock barely hits 7 a.m. before she sits down in her home office and gets to work.

Just as she’s starting to get in the zone, her phone rings. It surprises her to see Harry pop up on the screen—saved as just “H💘” in her phone. His next show takes place in Toronto, which is likely where he is at the moment.

She picks up, already smiling. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi,” he says. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I’ve been up for a while. Just getting some work done.” She swivels from side to side in her office chair. “What are you doing up? Isn’t it, like, two in the morning over there?”

“Yeah...” He doesn’t say anything else.

“Is everything okay?” she asks slowly.

“Mhm. Everything’s fantastic,” he mumbles.

“Okay...” She hears a car horn in the background. “Where are you right now?”

“Dunno. Was at a bar earlier. Had some poutine. It sucked... The poutine, not the bar. The bar was cool.”

It’s only now that she realizes he’s slurring his words quite a bit. It’s been a while since she’s seen him get drunk, so it didn’t even cross her mind until now.

“Are you drunk?”

“Mmmm... Perhaps, a smidge.”

Definitely more than a smidge, she thinks to herself.

“Okay, something’s definitely up. You don’t drink like this on tour, nor do you stay up this late.”

He scoffs. “Who came up with that stupid rule?”

She laughs and quirks a brow. “Uh, you did? Because you want to be at your best when you’re on stage, which is hard to do when you're hungover and sleep-deprived?”

He’s silent. His uncharacteristic behaviour is starting to make her uneasy.

“What’s going on, H? Talk to me.”

It’s a long time before he finally says something.

“I miss you.” His voice is so soft and quiet when he says it that she almost doesn’t hear him.

Her chest constricts. “Oh, baby, I miss you too.”

“Do you though?”

She frowns. “Of course I do. What kind of question is that?”

“Well, lately, it doesn’t seem that way... Seems like I miss you more than you miss me.” He sounds sad, but there’s also a bitterness underlying his tone that Y/N isn’t used to hearing.

“That is not true. Why would you think that?”

“Because I see it, Y/N,” he says, his voice becoming more resolute. “I see it in the photos and—and the stories that your friends post when you go out with them to those parties and shows and all that. You seem so much happier without me.”

Each word he says seems to add to her confusion. “You can’t be serious right now. You’re upset that I’m spending time with my friends?”

She hears him sigh heavily. For the first time in their conversation, she feels irritated with him.

“That’s not what I’m upset about,” he grumbles.

“Then what—”

“You’re going out to all these shows, Y/N. I thought—I thought you said you needed time away from the crowds? Time to yourself? What happened to that?”

“I am taking time to myself.” She huffs, adding sarcastically, “Sue me for going to a show here and there to have some fun.”

“Who’s the guy?”

“Excuse me?”

“That bloke you’re always with in the background of these photos. He’s got his arm around you in one of them. He’s always touching you this way and that. Who is he?”

Her heart sinks to the pit of her stomach at his words, at the implication and the accusatory tone behind them. “You think I’m cheating on you?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Have you been reading the Daily Mail like my mother?”

“This is not funny, Y/N.”

“I’m not trying to be funny. You sound like someone who’s been reading those tabloids, which is the last thing I would’ve expected from you.”

“I’m just explaining what I saw,” he says flatly. “If I’m wrong, just tell me I’m wrong.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you!” She feels her anger rising. Her fingers fiercely clutch the arm of her chair as she sits up straighter. “I shouldn’t because you know what? For the past two years, I’ve put up with so many bullshit rumours about you being seen with some female friend of yours and people assuming that you’re fucking her behind my back, and I have never once suspected that you were cheating on me. Not once! Why? Because I trust you! And now, you see a harmless picture of me with a guy friend and you assume I’m cheating? When did you become so possessive and so—so fucking needy?”

“Don’t call me that,” he hisses.

“Well, that’s how you’re acting. Like a jealous, possessive, needy fucking boyfriend.”

“You’re being mean.”

“I’m being—” She lets out a humorless laugh. Some part of her feels like he’s purposely trying to get under her skin, while another part of her thinks he’s just saying whatever comes to his intoxicated mind, and she doesn’t know which part is right. Her head is beginning to throb. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. I’m calling Jeff to go get you.”

“I don’t need anyone to come get me. I’m not a fucking child.”

“No, but you need someone to knock some sense into you, and I can’t stand you right now, so I’m sending Jeff.”

“Y/N, don’t hang u—”

She hangs up on him and immediately locates Jeff’s number in her contacts.

“Y/N?” he answers after several rings, his voice groggy and thick with sleep.

“Jeff, hey. Sorry for waking you. Look, do you know where Harry is right now?”

“Um... Asleep in his room, probably. Why?”

“No, he’s not. He is drunkenly wandering the streets of Toronto right now by himself.”

There’s a pause as he processes what she just said. “What? Seriously?”

“Yeah, he just called me. We...” We had a fight, is what she wants to say, but she holds herself back. “You need to go get him.”

“Did he say where he is exactly?”

“No. He just mentioned having some bad poutine at a bar earlier.”

“Oh, I was with him when we had the poutine. It was really fucking bad... But that was hours ago. What’s he still doing out?”

“I don’t know.” The next few words tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them, “He accused me of cheating on him.”

“He what?” The incredulity in his voice makes her feel just a tiny bit better because it means that he knows she would never do something like that.

“Yeah. Can you believe it? After everything...” Her voice cracks as the lump that has been forming in her throat ever since her conversation with Harry finally bursts and makes her eyes brim with tears.

“Y/N,” Jeff begins, carefully choosing his words, “he hasn’t been doing so well lately. Mentally, I mean. He misses you—”

“That’s not a good excuse,” she argues.

“—And he’s really beating himself up over what you went through at the start of tour. He feels so guilty.”

“Well, I feel guilty too!” She sniffles and wipes at her tears angrily, annoyed that they won’t stop coming. “Guilty that I can’t be there to support him on tour like I promised I would. Like his previous girlfriends did. God, Jeff, I feel like such a shitty girlfriend.”

“His previous girlfriends weren’t getting anywhere near the amount of hate you’re getting. And no one blames you for not being on tour, Y/N. Especially not Harry. He’s just being an idiot right now.”

Although she knows that everything he’s saying is rational and true, her emotional turmoil keeps her from fully believing it.

“You should go get him,” she says, rubbing her temples. “And can you please text me when you find him? Just so I know he’s safe.”

“Of course.”

As soon as she gets off the phone with Jeff, a state of exhaustion overcomes her. It’s been less than two hours since she woke up, yet it feels like she’s gone through a whole day within the past fifteen minutes. Abandoning her workstation, she crawls back into bed, pulling the covers over her head as the endless flood of tears flows from her eyes.

***

Harry fucked up. Immensely. He knows it the moment he wakes up the morning after his fight with Y/N. He reaches for his phone to call her, to apologize, but something stops him.

Pride? Guilt? Fear? All of the above?

He ends up waiting a while before reaching out to her. A week goes by before he finally calls her, and as expected, she doesn’t pick up. He tries again and again for several days, texting her after each attempt, begging her to talk to him, to let him explain himself. But it’s no use.

She has iced him out.

The rest of tour feels like a blur. Being on stage still gives him an indescribable high, but that disappears as soon as he’s alone again.

Returning home to London after his last show is a relieving yet nerve-wracking experience because he doesn’t know what to expect from Y/N. They haven’t spoken in weeks. He has been using Michelle’s Instagram posts to keep up with her and to know that she’s okay.

Now, he takes a deep breath before entering the house with his luggage. Everything is completely silent. He wonders if she’s even home.

“Y/N!” he calls out. “I’m home!”

No response.

He sighs and makes his way upstairs. He finds her in her office, working at her desk with big noise-cancelling headphones on, her back to the door.

“Y/N?” he says from the doorway.

When she still doesn’t hear him, he walks up behind her and gently touches her shoulder. She jumps and yanks the headphones off her head.

“Oh my God. You scared the shit out of me.” She clutches her chest.

“Sorry, lovie. I was calling your name, but you didn’t hear me.”

She spins around in her chair and stands up. He expects her to walk out of the room or say something to indicate that she’s still upset with him, but all she does is slide her arms around his torso and press her cheek against his chest.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she says.

It takes him a moment to recover from the shock. Wrapping his arms around her, he replies, “Me too.”

They hug for a good minute. He starts thinking about the apology speech he had prepared.

When she pulls away, he says, “Maybe we should talk about—”

“There’s no need. It’s all forgotten.” She pushes up on her toes to kiss him, but he retreats slightly to study her expression.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Absolutely.” She gives him a reassuring smile that seems believable enough, so he lets her kiss him.

And instantly, he melts at the velvety feeling of her lips against his. One of the many things he’s missed about her during their time apart. As soon as she parts her lips, his tongue darts into her mouth. With his hand under her jaw, he tilts her head upward to taste her more fully. He wants to devour her.

Pulling away, he asks, “Bedroom?”

“Yes.”

He grabs her hand and leads her out of her office to their shared bedroom down the hall. Their clothes come off in record time, and they’re making out again, hands all over each other’s bare bodies.

“I want you,” Y/N says between passionate kisses.

She nudges him towards the bed until he sits down on the edge of it. Then she gets down on her knees between his legs, eyeing his erect cock like it’s an object of worship.

She takes him into her mouth inch-by-inch, wrapping her hand around anything that doesn’t fit. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes for a moment, engulfed by the pleasurable sensation of her tongue gliding against his cock.

“Fuck, baby, your mouth feels so good on me,” he breathes out.

Encouraged by his praise, she takes more of him into her mouth, allowing his tip to hit the back of her throat. Then she pulls her head back until only his tip rests on her tongue and takes him back in. She repeats this gesture while fondling his balls at the same time.

His hand slips into her hair. She starts deliberately slowing down at one point, teasing him by only keeping the head of his dick in her mouth, licking the tip over and over to drive him insane. His body reacts by bucking his hips to push more of himself into her. His hand keeps her head in place as he begins guiding his length in and out of her mouth all on his own.

His ragged breaths and moans are the only sound filling the room. He forces himself to stop before he can cum and removes his cock from her mouth. The way she gazes up at him, eagerly awaiting his next move, makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“I need to be inside you. Get up here.” He pats the bed beside him, and she climbs up. He kisses her, tasting himself on her mouth, then says, “Hands and knees for me, sweetheart.”

Compliantly, she turns around and gets on her hands and knees in the middle of the bed. He shifts to get behind her, admiring the view granted by this position. His fingers find their way between her legs and come away coated with her juices.

“Fuck. You’re soaking,” he remarks, inserting two fingers inside her hole. “Who’s got you so wet, hmm?”

“You.” She exhales with pleasure.

“Sorry, didn’t hear that.”

“You, you,” she repeats. “God, only you.”

He smirks and inserts a third finger, making her squirm and moan. She pushes her hips back to get as much of his fingers inside her as possible. He allows her to get off on his fingers for a bit, then retracts them without warning. A disappointed whine leaves her at the sudden emptiness filling her pussy.

But she doesn’t stay empty for long, as he aligns his tip with her entrance and begins filling her up little by little, giving her pussy a chance to adjust to him. It’s been so long since he’s felt her tight walls squeeze his cock like this. Too long.

He pulls out of her, then thrusts himself back in with more force, releasing a grunt. Y/N gasps and collapses onto her forearms. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he yanks her head back, causing her back to arch and allowing him the perfect angle to drive his length deep into her.

“Harry,” she moans his name, and he swears he can cum right then and there but he restrains himself.

He tugs on her hair a bit more, then shifts his hand to wrap around the front of her neck, pulling her back against his torso.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispers in her ear. “God, I missed having you like this.”

Her pussy clenches around him. He continues fucking her hard while squeezing the sides of her neck. Her mouth is agape, her pants and moans and whimpers mixing together beautifully.

“Can I cum?” she asks breathlessly.

“Maybe,” he teases. “If you ask nicely.”

“Please, can I cum? Please?”

“Of course you can, sweet girl. Cum for me.” He presses his lips against her temple as she unravels in his hold. Her body convulses against his. “That’s it, baby.”

His orgasm follows right after hers. He finishes deep inside her warm, wet pussy, which milks every last bit of cum from his cock. Once he lets go of her neck, she sinks onto her stomach on the mattress.

He lays on top of her as they both recover from their highs, peppering kisses along her neck and the backs of her shoulders.

“I love you,” he whispers.

She just smiles and turns her head a bit more to catch his mouth in a kiss. The lack of a verbal response from her doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He rolls off of her after a few minutes. She immediately sits up.

“Are you hungry? I can make us something,” she offers.

“Uh, sure, but—”

“Okay, great, I’m hungry too. I’ll call you when the food’s ready.” She leans down and pecks him on the cheek, then hesitates briefly before saying, “Love you.”

Grabbing her clothes, she disappears into the bathroom before he can even register what just happened.

He was hoping they would spend some time cuddling, which is usually what they do after sex, but Y/N seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the room. Not to mention how long it took her to return his “I love you.” If all really is forgotten as she claims, then why is she acting so strange?

He expects her confusing behaviour to continue after he takes a shower and goes downstairs to eat with her, but by then, she seems to be acting like herself again, telling stories and joking around with him.

Maybe everything really is fine and he’s just being paranoid. That’s got to be it.

***

Y/N tried to act like everything was fine after Harry got home from tour. But you can only repress your emotions for so long before they start expressing themselves in other, unexpected ways...

A few days after Harry’s return, he and Y/N attend an engagement party hosted by their friends, Mary and Laila, who got engaged last week.

Harry is attached to Y/N’s side for most of the night, only stepping away to go use the washroom. He’s gone for quite some time, during which Y/N mingles with other people at the party. When he eventually comes back fifteen minutes later, he places his arm around her waist and a kiss to her temple.

“That was a long bathroom break,” she remarks, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I ran into Ava on the way back and we were catching up.”

Ava is an ex-girlfriend whom he’s still good friends with. Y/N notices a red, oval-shaped mark on his left cheek right next to his lips.

“Is that lipstick on your face?”

He reaches up to touch his cheek and laughs. “Oh, yeah, she just kissed me as a joke.”

“I hope that’s all it was.”

Y/N already knows that’s all it was. She’s known Ava for a while and is well-aware that their friendship is entirely platonic. In fact, her comment has nothing to do with Ava. It’s just the result of her petty need to get back at him for what he accused her of weeks ago.

She watches as his smile fades.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” she says. “When the roles are reversed?”

“I knew it. You’re still upset with me.”

She turns away but still feels his eyes on her. Before he can say more, one of their friends comes up to Y/N and starts talking to her, preventing their conversation from going any further.

Silence fills the car on their ride home from the party. Harry drives. Y/N stares out the window the whole time.

As soon as they step past the threshold of their house, he states, “We need to talk.”

“I’m not really in the mood.” She slips off her heels and heads upstairs. He follows closely behind.

“You can’t keep avoiding this, Y/N. We’re going to have to talk about it at some point or this relationship’s not going to survive.”

She reaches the top of the stairs before replying, “It wasn’t going to survive anyway.”

She knows those words are like a slap in the face to Harry. They make him pause in his tracks. Meanwhile, she continues toward their bedroom, the flames of her fury crackling inside her.

“Why would you say that?” he asks, joining her in the bedroom a moment later.

She talks while changing out of her party dress, “Because you don’t trust me, Harry, and everyone knows a relationship without trust is doomed to fail.”

He sighs and sits down on the bed. “I do trust you. I just made a mistake, all right? I was drunk and—”

“Classic excuse.” She pulls on a pair of comfy shorts and an old worn-out t-shirt of hers.

“Not making excuses. I take full responsibility for what I said. I’ve apologized so many times over text, and I wanted to apologize in person when I got home from tour, but you were the one who didn’t want to talk and I respected that.”

“How generous of you.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can you stop with the little quips? It’s bloody annoying.”

“Annoying? That’s it? I’m being called way worse online,” she says with a bitter smile.

His gaze drops to the floor. “You know I don’t look at that stuff, and you shouldn’t either.”

“Kind of hard not to when people are spamming my friends’ comments, accusing me of cheating on you, slut-shaming me for hanging out with any guy who isn’t you. You know, none of it would bother me that much if my own boyfriend didn’t believe it too.”

“I don’t! Jesus, Y/N. I don’t believe any of that.”

“Oh, really? Then why did it take you a whole week to reach out to me after our fight on the phone?”

He swallows and stares down into his lap. “I—I was just trying to give you space. I was... I was...”

“You were what?” She prompts him to finish his sentence, but when he doesn’t, she fills in the blanks for him, “You were still trying to figure out if you were right about me cheating. It wasn’t just something you said by accident while you were drunk. You really believed it. Didn’t you?”

He closes his eyes, defeated. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She shakes her head and turns away from him, clenching her jaw. “God, I can’t even look at you right now. I’m so fucking angry.”

“I was scared, Y/N,” he says in a small voice.

When she looks at him, his green irises are swimming in tears. She hates how the sight instantly makes her soften.

“Of what?” she asks.

“I was scared that I was losing you. No one should have to put up with the shit that you put up with on a daily basis just for being with me. It keeps getting worse. It’s—it’s like the more success I have, the more people in my life suffer and I don’t know how to make it stop and it kills me, Y/N. It absolutely kills me.” The tears escape his eyes now, freely roaming down his cheeks.

“Baby...” Y/N’s heart breaks for him. It shatters. She walks over to him and takes his face in her hands, wiping her thumbs under his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He keeps repeating himself, his hands trembling in his lap.

“Shh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” She pulls his head into her chest and gently runs her fingers through his curls to calm him down.

Once he seems calmer, she suggests that they go to sleep for now and have a proper conversation tomorrow when they’re both fully rested. So, they get ready for bed and crawl under the covers together. Y/N invites him to nestle his head against her shoulder and plays with his hair until he falls asleep.

***

The next morning, she wakes up before him. He’s lying on his stomach next to her, his cheek adorably squished against the pillow. He looks extremely kissable, so she can’t help but lean over to plant the softest kiss on his face.

Then she lays there, staring up at the ceiling while her mind ponders over last night’s events. The heart-wrenching look on Harry’s face as he confessed his fear of losing her is engraved in her brain.

Jeff had told her that he wasn’t doing well, that he felt guilty about all the animosity she’d become victim to. But at the time, she was too angry—justifiably—to give it much thought. Now that the anger has subsided and she understands the real reason behind Harry’s accusation, she feels nothing but compassion and empathy for him.

His eyes flutter open a few minutes later. She turns her head to the side to look at him.

“Morning, handsome.”

He smiles and mumbles sleepily, “Morning.”

They stare at each other for some time, basking in the sunlight streaming through the curtains and in each other’s presence.

“So, I was thinking...” Y/N begins. “It’s Saturday. We’re both free. Why don’t we go on a long walk today?”

He nods. “Yes, please. We haven’t done that in a while.”

That afternoon, they prepare for their walk, bundling up in layers to insulate from the crisp weather of early December. They pack some snacks and a blanket into a tote bag in case they decide to sit and eat somewhere for a bit. Harry hikes the bag onto his shoulder and they head out.

As they stroll through the park with Y/N’s arm looped around his, they pass by several people walking their dogs. One particularly adorable pup catches Y/N’s attention as it scampers by.

“Oh, look at how cute that puppy is!” she coos, tugging on Harry’s arm. “Ugh, I want a dog so badly.”

“We can get one, you know.”

She gives him a look. “H, you’re on tour, like, nine months out of the year. We’d be the most absent dog parents ever.”

“Yeah, but when I’m on tour, you’ll still be here, right? So, the dog won’t be alone.”

She realizes that he’s going off the assumption that she won’t be joining him on tour in the future. “About that...” she says. “I came up with a plan.”

He quirks an inquisitive brow.

“Since I went remote at work, a few other people have as well. My boss likes how productive everyone’s been, and she wants to make a permanent shift to remote work in the new year. So, I was thinking that I’d join you on tour for a few weeks at a time, and whenever I feel like I need a break, I’ll just come back to London for a little while, then fly back out to you. How does that sound?”

She looks at him, and it’s apparent from the way he’s biting his lip that he’s trying to contain his excitement.

“Perfect. That sounds perfect,” he says, hesitating before adding, “Honestly, I thought you’d never come to another one of my shows again. I mean, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” she states firmly. “That’s exactly what the assholes want, isn’t it? They want me to skip the shows. Well, they can’t get rid of me that easily! In fact, they’ll have to physically pry me away from you if they really want me gone.”

He laughs. “How romantic.”

“I’m serious!”

“Oh, I’m aware.”

Later into their walk, they find a secluded area in the grass to lay out their blanket and rest while munching on snacks. Y/N offers him some Skittles. As he reaches into the bag, digging around to find the red ones he really likes, Y/N says, “H, I need you to promise me something.”

“What?” He finds a red Skittle and pops it in his mouth.

“I need you to promise me that you’re going to stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your control.”

He stares at her, slightly puzzled.

“The things that people say about me, or anyone in your life for that matter, are out of your control,” she explains, “and if you keep blaming yourself, it’s only going to destroy you.”

He sighs and leans back on his hands, gazing up at the clear blue sky. “I know. I try so hard not to. It’s just reached a whole other level these past couple years, and I feel so helpless. Feel like I should be doing more to protect you.”

“You’re doing the best you can.” She reaches out to caress his cheek. “And I don’t need you to protect me. All I need is for you to trust me when I say that I’m not going anywhere.”

He turns his head to kiss the inside of her palm.

“I’ll always be yours, H.”

The last three months may have been the most trying period of their relationship so far, but Y/N wouldn’t change a thing because what they went through only strengthened their bond. They learned their lessons. The worst is over. They may always look back on this time with a bittersweet reminiscence, but one thing is for certain: they won’t put each other through anything like that again.

And if they were able to get through this and still stay together, Y/N feels confident that they can face anything.

***

Thank you for reading! MASTERLIST

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