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#but she did what she had to do for her and her family
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I’m remarkably bad at food in general. I didn’t come from a household of cooks and my family doesn’t do food in a wholesome way. Food ends up being fuel that’s tiresome but necessary for the most part.
There’s also not like easily accessible classes or ways to really learn about food. So I really feel like I can’t be blamed for this one instance when I was living in Arizona.
I had moved there to be with my then-girlfriend. I ended up doing more of the shopping because she was working 11pm-4am shifts at the radio station and her sleep schedule was disastrously not conducive to daily tasks.
She requested lettuce for her lunch sandwiches. The morning after shopping I awoke to her standing over me in bed.
I sleepily greeted her and she said, “I’m not mad, but did you buy cabbage?”
My tired brain processed this. What was the difference between cabbage and lettuce? Lettuce was round. Was cabbage? I didn’t think cabbage was round. Wasn’t it purple? “No,” I said decisively.
“Come look at this.”
I dutifully got up to follow her to the kitchen. She pulled out the vegetable I’d bought. It still looked vaguely lettucey but I was starting to feel a tingle of uncertainty.
“It’s lettuce,” I stated, proving once again that just saying something doesn’t make it so.
“I ate a whole sandwich with it. It didn’t taste like lettuce.” Folks. It was cabbage. She’d eaten several leaves of raw cabbage. But in my defense why didn’t she know better?
“No, it’s definitely lettuce.” An undercurrent was forming between us. She knew I no longer believed this was lettuce. She’d eaten raw cabbage leaves rather than question me sooner about the purchase. But I was clearly willing to die on this hill.
“Where the receipt?”
What followed was an instantaneous mad dash across the kitchen to secure the receipt first. We flailed and squabbled at each other, both desperate to have our way with the truth of the matter.
My grubby little hands found it first and we wrestled down to the ground over the unassuming slip of paper. I was wily and quick, but she was stronger, and we tussled with our whole hearts over the inconsequential thing.
When it was clear she was moments away from overpowering me I shoved the whole receipt into my mouth like a frantic little Pac-Man, undeterred by the toxic bitterness of the receipt paper.
We ended up in stitches on the ground as I laughed and choked on the wretched thing. I spat it into the garbage and thus won the right to my fiction. It was lettuce.
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sunsburns · 2 days
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good luck, babe!
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pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader x patrick zweig x art donaldson
summary: patrick zwieg invites tashi duncan and art donaldson to join him at your engagement party. you think they came to celebrate you and your new chapter and put the past behind you, rebuilding lost friendships, but tashi hopes to stop you from marrying a man you never wanted.
—or: the trio crashes your engagement party
word count: 10k+ (i have a serious problem)
contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, post-challengers movie, fluff & comfort, angst, tashi’s pov but lowkey get's mixed up around the end, foursome, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sed (wrap it before yall tap it), homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, three-way make out, four-way make out, dom!tashi, patrick being nasty, art being a loser, no use of y/n, situationship that lasts 13 years.
author’s note: this fic is based on this request with inspo from the greatest song on earth: good luck, babe! it was supposed to be a quick smut blurb but at this point, you all know i can’t write smut without some kind of angsty plot. everyone is super messy and there is some of the dirtiest smut i’ve written so far (it’s only going to get worse from here). this one is a roller coaster.
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It didn't make sense to any of them, how you could've possibly ended up with him. 
Tashi remembered him from Stanford vividly. He came from a white-collared family, with daddy's money that bought him everything he could've ever asked for, yet he still wanted more. He played golf and polo and even dabbled with tennis but never had enough guts or skill to take it seriously. But his dad funded most of the programs and events at the school, so everyone had known him, his charm, his family, and his inability to stick to one thing even outside of sports. He clung onto a new girl every other week, a new girl wrapped around his finger only to be ultimately tossed aside like the rest of them.
"What a dick," Tashi remembered you saying once, stabbing your fork into your salad while glaring daggers at him from across the cafeteria as he bragged loudly to his fan club about how he beat you in a game of tennis. 
Which he didn't. 
You let him win. 
His parents had been paying you to coach him, paid you extra every time you let him win a set or two against you, even if it was off the record. God knows you needed the money.
"I think I'm gonna quit." You said, turning back to glance at Tashi.
"About damn time," she snickered, shaking her head. "I told you you're wasting your time with him when you could be doing something better. Like training with me."
You had rolled your eyes and poked her arm with your fork, "If I'm still trailing after him this time next week, shoot me in the head and put me out of my misery."
Almost thirteen years later, you're walking around with his ring on your finger at your engagement party. A party where your fiancé announced your upcoming retirement after a tennis career run that Tashi would’ve killed for: a six-time US Open winner; two-time gold medalist at the Olympics; and brand deals that would ensure you and the next four generations of your family lived happily under your trust fund.
Clearly, you weren't marrying him for his money.
It made Tashi anxious, because, in some way, she could see that the marriage you will have with your fiancé is far too similar to how Tashi's would have been if she and Patrick stayed together. 
Okay, maybe that was a reach.
Or maybe it's how it would've been if neither of you had gone up to Art and Patrick's hotel room that night. Or maybe it would've been Tashi's ring on your finger instead.
She couldn't shake the bitter taste in her mouth as she watched you laugh with him, your eyes lighting up in the way they always did when you were truly happy. It used to be her who made you smile like that. She remembered the late-night practices, the shared victories, and the quiet moments shared in the comfort of her dorm room. She remembered the promises you both made and dreams of dominating the tennis world together.
But she shouldn't dwell on the past, she shouldn't think about what-ifs. At least that's what Art tells her with a hand on her shoulder. Tashi glances at his hand, noting the wedding band that rests on his finger. The squeeze he gives is meant to be reassuring, but instead, it feels suffocating.
"I'll never know how he bagged her," Patrick tuts from her other side, a drink already in his hand. He holds it close to his mouth, biting the rim of the glass before taking a swig, his eyes never leaving you. His gaze is shameless, tracing the way your dress hugs your curves, how your hair shines under the chandelier lights, and the way your lips move as you speak.
"Lucky, lucky man..." Patrick shakes his head, a bitter edge to his voice.
A waiter passes by, offering hors d'oeuvres, and Patrick takes enough for the three of them for himself, setting his empty glass on the platter. As he stuffs an appetizer in his mouth, he begins to walk away, his eyes fixed on you.
"Where do you think you're going?" Art asks, his hand slipping from Tashi's shoulder.
Patrick spins around, mouth full, and shrugs. "To congratulate the future bride."
Art and Tashi stand there, watching, almost dumbfounded when they see Patrick sneak up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you into the air. You shriek, champagne spilling from your glass, but once you see who it is, a wide smile breaks across your face.
"Patrick!" Tashi can hear you from across the hall. Patrick lifts you again, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he spins you around, your laughter ringing out—a sweet melody that draws the attention of everyone nearby. "You made it!"
Tashi feels a pang of surprise. 
You and Patrick had been in closer contact than she imagined. It stings, a reminder of the distance that had grown between you after her injury, much like the distance that had grown between Art and Patrick. She never knew you had turned to Patrick for comfort. Though it made sense—Patrick was the one you invited, not her, not Art. Patrick was the one who had to ask if he could bring two guests instead of the traditional plus-one. 
But surely, you must have known that if you invited Patrick, Tashi and Art would come too, right? 
Right? 
The question churns a pit of dread in her stomach as Art starts to lead her closer to you out of courtesy.
Patrick's arms are wrapped tightly around your torso, his hand resting too low to be innocent, but you seem happy nonetheless. Happier in Patrick's arms than in the arms of your future husband. You embrace him close, the ring on your finger glimmering under the chandelier lights as you hold onto the back of his neck, your laughter finally subsiding as the spinning stops.
As Tashi and Art approach, the reality of the situation hits her harder. She's watching from the outside, a spectator to your happiness, feeling the sting of what could have been. She forces a smile; your engagement to the worst person in the world can't possibly be the thing that makes her break. Not after everything she's built since she started coaching.
Art tries to catch your eye, offering a polite smile once you let go of Patrick. "Hey."
"Hi," you say breathlessly, a bright smile across your face while Patrick swings his arm over your shoulder. You seem happy, almost relieved that Tashi and Art were here as if you doubted their attendance. "Wow, it's been so long. You guys look great."
"Thanks," Tashi finally says, the words weighing on her tongue like lead.
"You look beautiful," Art tells you, and it's rushed as if he's been trying to keep it to himself but couldn't help it once he was close enough to you.
Before you can get a word out, another arm wraps around your waist, discreetly pushing Patrick away from you to slide into your side. Patrick lets out an annoyed groan, stepping aside as your fiancé squeezes you tightly and says, "She does, doesn't she? Hey, killer."
You turn to him, about to say something, maybe greet him back, maybe introduce him to everyone. But he doesn't let you, he's leaning closer until his lips lock with yours. It takes you by surprise—you flinch at first before finally letting him kiss you properly, his hand cupping the back of your neck, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible.
Art lets out a low, awkward sigh while watching it happen before him, and Patrick rolls his eyes, stepping back in search of a waiter for another drink.
He holds onto you like you're a prize he's won. Almost as if he's been competing with everyone in the world to finally hold you and show you off. As if that's all you had to offer.
You blink, clearly embarrassed, as you clear your throat to disperse the awkward tension in the air. "These are some, uh," you stumble over your words before nodding towards Art, Tashi, and Patrick, "some old friends from college. I'm sure you remember—"
He's interrupting you again, reaching out with the hand that's not on you to shake Tashi's hand. He holds it tightly, his thumb pressing against her wedding ring. "Tashi Duncan, how could I ever forget? Still beautiful as ever."
She has to force herself to smile, for your sake. "Good to see you too—"
"You know," your fiancé starts, cutting her off, "I still remember the time you told me to suck a bag of dicks 'cause I took up your court time. Best day of my life."
"Yeah," Patrick laughs. He's found another glass of champagne to sip on, and it's by his lips when he says, "who doesn't love getting cussed out by Tashi."
You wince. "Patrick—"
"No, no. He's right. It's one out of a million. I took it as a compliement," your fiancé says, glancing at Tashi again, his eyes darting up and down, lingering on her wedding ring once more before she finally pulls her hand out of his grasp. He spots the arm Tashi has been clinging to. "Art Donaldson, I'm a big fan."
Art stiffens as if taken by surprise. "Really?"
Your fiancé is nodding, and when Art glances your way for a split second, he tugs you closer. "You're incredible. Watching you play, it's like, woah! He's killin' it out there. Too bad you've retired though, would've loved to see you play longer."
There's a faint redness to Art's face when he nods. "Oh, thank you."
"I've always wondered if I'd turn out the way you did if I stuck to tennis." Then he laughs, nudging your side. "If only this one put me to work like Tashi did to you, maybe we would've competed in the US Open a few times."
You snort and shake your head, the idea of watching the two of them even standing on the court together amusing you. "You couldn't beat Art if you tried."
Your fiancé shrugs. "Maybe Patrick."
"Stop kidding yourself. You can't even beat your nephew and he's twelve."
He hums, turning so that he'll face you. He holds your waist with both hands, caressing you gently. "You sure know your way into a man's heart, baby," he says lowly before kissing you again. It's rough and messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You shriek and press your hands against his chest. He doesn't let go immediately, peeking a glance towards the trio while kissing you.
Tashi feels a knot of disgust tightening in her stomach. The audacity of him to touch you like that in front of them, as if he’s marking his territory, sets her blood boiling just a little bit. God, did no one teach this guy any kind of etiquette?
She catches Art's expression out of the corner of her eye—his jaw is clenched as he turns to look away. Patrick's lips curl in a sneer, the glass in his hand trembling slightly. He fights the urge to throw it.
Your fiancé reaches down and gropes your ass over your silky white dress before finally separating from you.
You stand there, looking flushed and embarrassed, letting him whisper something in your ear before he walks off, joining a group of men who whistle and catcall at him as he nears them. Each jeer and hoot feels like a slap to the face.
"Uh, sorry," you apologize, unable to meet their eyes as you blindly wipe at your chin to fix your lipstick. "That was... I don't know what's gotten into him. He's not usually like this. He's, uh... he's great."
Patrick scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, real great."
Tashi can’t help but frown, her heart aching as she watches you fumble. "You can't possibly want to marry him," she wants to say, but the words get stuck in her throat. She can't bear to hear the answer, especially if it's the one she fears.
Art steps forward, his face a careful mask of neutrality. "If you’re happy," he says, but there's an edge to his tone, a challenge. The unspoken words hang heavily in the air: "Are you?"
You nod quickly, too quickly, as if trying to convince yourself as much as them. "Sure, sure. I mean, what’s not to be happy about? His family loves me. I'm retiring this year, and gonna spend more time with my family. Hopefully more time with some old friends?"
"Old friends?" Tashi repeats, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. The casual way you say it, as if years of distance and silence can be bridged with a few meetings, stings more than she cares to admit.
"Yeah, before I get busy with the baby."
"Baby?" Patrick's voice is sharp, almost disbelieving. "You’re pregnant?"
"What? No!" You quickly sputter, shaking your head. Then you pause, a thought crossing your mind and you lighten up a little bit, a hopeful smile gracing your face, "But I do want kids one day. I want three."
"Does he want kids?"
"We've talked about it, but he shuts it down all the time."
"You poor thing." Patrick puffs out, pinching your arm before reaching for your hand and leading you toward the bar. "Let's bring this conversation outside, ladies. I need a smoke. And you all need a drink stronger than his champagne."
The idea of fresh air and a strong drink is appealing. After grabbing a bottle of finely aged wine, the four of you make your way to the garden outside the grand hall. The shift from the stuffy indoor atmosphere to the cool night air is a relief. 
The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the meticulously maintained garden, illuminating the path with a soft, ethereal light. You glow in your pretty white dress, the fabric shimmering as you take a seat on a patch of grass near the rose bushes. The scent of roses mingles with the crisp night air, creating a tranquil yet poignant backdrop. You glance up at the three of them who stand there, watching you.
Tashi raises a brow as you take a long swig of the wine. She didn't remember you to be much of a drinker. 
"It's not that big of a deal," you say, passing her the bottle when she finally sits next to you. 
It's as if her movement had woken the two guys and then Art takes a seat on your other side while Patrick lies down on the grass a few feet away to light a cigarette. 
You pout, "If he doesn't want kids, then we won't have kids."
"But you want kids," Tashi reminds you, but it's more of a question as if she's wondering if that's truly what you want. Don't get her wrong, Tashi loves being a mother, she would kill anyone for Lily, but you wanting kids barely before confirming your retirement threw her off a little bit.
"Of course I do." You hiccup, reaching for the bottle again. "I'm not getting any younger. It's just... he'll come around."
"And if he doesn't?" Art asks, his voice gentle but probing.
"Can we not talk about that right now? I just want to get shitfaced and party."
"Now we're talkin'!" Patrick interjects, his grin wide as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The embers glow briefly in the dark.
"Come on, everybody gather." Patrick flicks his cigarette off to the rocky pathway and snags the bottle from Art's hands. He raises it, nodding at you with that same smirk he's had for years. Snarky, cocky, and yet endearing. "To celebrate new beginnings. Even if your future husband's a dick and can't make you cum nearly half as hard as I can. Good luck, babe."
The rest of you all make a noise of annoyance, rolling your eyes. "Seriously?"
"Shut the fuck up, Patrick," Art scoffs, though there's a faint smile tugging at his lips as you let a giggle slip out past your fake annoyance.
Patrick's smile only widens at the sound of his friends' protests. It reminds him of the good old years when his biggest worry was which shorts he'd wear to his next game. "Cheers!"
As the bottle is passed around, Tashi can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with bitterness. The comradery of the past clashes painfully with the reality of the present. Is this how things are going to be like now? Is this night a call for a truce, waving the white flag so that all of you could be friends again, now as adults, making plans for brunch and getting the kids together for birthday parties?
You take another sip from the bottle, your gaze drifting towards the moonlit sky. "To new beginnings," you repeat softly, though the hope in your voice is tinged with uncertainty.
Tashi leans back, her eyes lingering on you, a mix of longing and regret pooling in her heart. Art sits quietly beside her, lost in his thoughts, while Patrick’s laughter rings out, masking deeper sentiments beneath his forced cheerfulness. The chatter and music from the hall spill into the garden, the warm lights casting a golden glow over the scene. Patrick talks animatedly about the seasons he thinks he has left in him, and to Tashi's annoyance, you encourage him.
She shakes her head at the way Patrick's eyes light up, glancing at her with a knowing look. Despite her irritation, she can't deny the comfort of slipping back into their old dynamic.
Suddenly, Art hums thoughtfully. He has been mostly quiet, listening to the conversation with occasional quiet laughs. Now, as he puts down the empty bottle of wine, he looks at you, his eyes more alive than they have been in a long time. "I had a burger for the first time in years," he announces, a smile spreading across his face as if he is proud of it.
You gasp, perking up as you reach over to hold his hands. "How was it?"
"Amazing," Art says fondly, "like heaven inside a bun."
"You should've seen him," Tashi smirks, shoulder to shoulder with Patrick, playfully kicking Art. "He was drooling just looking at the menu."
He rolls his eyes, "I wasn't drooling." When you fall silent, he looks at you again, frowning. "You haven't had one in a while, have you?"
You shake your head, "No, I think the last time I had one was when we graduated."
Patrick scoffs, "Bullshit."
You laugh, "It's true! I've been very strict with my diet. And now that I've retired... I don't know..." You shrug, suddenly getting shy as Art starts tracing stars against the back of your hand. "There are so many options, I wouldn't know where to start."
"It doesn't have to be anything fancy," Tashi says.
"Pretty sure I saw an old diner on the way here," Patrick suggests. He stands, stretching and groaning before bending over to take Tashi's hand and help her up.
You sputter, watching them all start to stand before you. "Shut up, we're not driving, you're drunk."
"But sober enough to see how badly you want this," Patrick teases, waving a finger near your face and smirking. "You're drooling."
"No, I'm not!"
"Sure you are," Art joins in, pulling you up to your feet. He swipes a thumb at your chin, "Look right there, by your lip."
"Oh," Tashi grins, "I see it."
"Shut up, Tash, no you don't." The words fall from your lips before you can stop them. The old nickname fits too smoothly as if it hasn't been years since you've called her that. Tashi smiles, feeling like a teenager again, messing around with you. She starts to walk off, Art and Patrick following her while you stand there, dumbfounded and a little breathless from their teasing.
"Where are you going?"
"To get a burger?" Tashi shrugs, and she smirks at you, a mischievous smile that makes you wonder if any of you have ever grown up at all. "You coming or what?"
You try to be reasonable, "I can't just leave."
"We'll bring you back before anyone notices," Patrick bargains, jogging back to your side and taking your arm to lead you to the exit. "Lighten up, when was the last time you had some fun?"
You don't even look back.
You find yourself laughing, nodding as the four of you make your way out of the garden. The moonlight guides your steps, casting long shadows on the path.
The walk is a blur of laughter and shared stories, the kind of carefree joy that you haven't felt in years. Before long, you arrive at the diner. The neon lights buzz softly, casting a nostalgic glow over the parking lot. You can smell the greasy, comforting aroma of burgers and fries even before you step inside.
The few people in the diner stare, watching as what seems to be a runaway bride and three wedding guests stumble and giggle over each other, lips a little purple from the wine you've all had and ordering burgers to go.
Once you have your food, you all find yourselves sitting on the curb of the diner's parking lot, the warm night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Patrick hands out the burgers, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light as he makes a show of presenting yours to you. "First bite in... how many years?"
"Too many," You take the burger with a chuckle, unwrapping it and taking a bite. "Oh my God," you mumble around your mouthful, "this is amazing."
Tashi watches you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Told you."
Art takes a bite of his own burger, nodding in agreement. "There's nothing like it."
You shake your head, going in for more, "This is the greatest thing I've put in my mouth."
Patrick, already halfway through his, lets out a loud laugh, "Yeah, I bet."
The parking lot felt like a little bubble of the past, untouched by the years that had separated you. It was strange how easy it was to fall back into the rhythm of your old friendships, how natural it felt to banter and laugh as if no time had passed at all.
Tashi rolls her eyes, though you don't even seem phased by Patrick's joke. "I can't even get mad," you say, swallowing, "I feel like I'm eighteen again."
"Tell me about it," Art agrees. Then he pauses for a beat, chewing on her burger a little slower before turning to you. "You know, this reminds me of that time... when, you know."
"Oh," You snort and nod, scrunching up your face at the memory. "Yeah. It kinda does."
"What?" Patrick looks between the two of you, raising his brow in interest. "What time?"
"It was a long time ago," you tell him.
"Like back in Stanford," Art explains, and then he points between Tashi and Patrick with his burger, "when you two were still a thing."
Tashi sits up straight now, her full attention on you and Art. "Oh, really?"
"It was that time Patrick came for a surprise visit in the middle of our girls' night," you say, nodding your head at her, hoping she'd catch up with the memory. "And you kicked me out of your dorm so you and Patrick could... you know."
Tashi nods. "Have some alone time." She finishes for you.
She remembers that night well: you were both nestled in the haven of her dorm room, the soft glow of the television casting gentle shadows on the walls as the movie played on. You were curled up under her covers, your bodies intertwined, legs tangled together in a comforting knot. The world outside ceased to exist in those moments, leaving just the two of you in your little cocoon of comfort.
Tashi can still feel the sensation of your fingers running through her hair, the tender, rhythmic motion soothing her in a way nothing else could. The warmth of your touch lingered on her scalp, your fingers traced lazy patterns, and she remembered the way her body instinctively relaxed into yours.
But then came the knock on the door, and she felt her heart jump at her throat as she swung her legs out from under the covers and padded softly to the door.
When she opened the door, there stood Patrick, his presence almost surreal. He was holding a bouquet of carefully picked-out flowers, their vibrant colours contrasting sharply with the dim light of the hallway. His smirk was both nervous and charming
"You kicked her out?" Patrick gasps, and Tashi gives him a blank stare. He's acting as if he wasn't even there, as if he didn't stand by her desk while watching her scramble to clean up the mess the two of you made in her dorm and shove you out the door before locking it.
Patrick shrugs, that stupid smirk painted on his lips again before he finishes his burger. "Would've let you stay if it were up to me," he tells you, "The more, the merrier."
"No way," you poke your tongue at the inside of your cheek. "She wanted you all for herself."
"Please, I would've been too distracted with you to even give him my time of day," Tashi admits. "I did you a favor, Patrick. Saved you from blue balls."
He holds a hand to his heart. "I'm so honored."
"But anyway," you start, "while I was walking back to my dorm I bumped into Art, who got stood up on a date."
Patrick blinks, turning to Art. "You got stood up?"
"Was it that girl from marketing?" Tashi asks.
Art's cheeks start to turn red, the flush growing from his neck and up to his ears at the attention. "Yeah, she, uh, she bailed on me last minute."
"I remember you telling me the date went well," Patrick says. "That you guys went out late, bought takeout... you made out in your car," Then, to fuck with him, he adds, "You came in your pants 'cause she kissed your neck. Remember?"
"And that did happen," Art confesses begrudgingly, glaring at Patrick while Tashi laughs. "It’s just... it wasn't with her..."
"It... it was me," you admit.
Tashi wishes she could say she's surprised, but it's nearly impossible because anyone who knew you back in college knew very well about the big crush you harboured for a certain blonde. She knew the way you swooned after him, even if you never tried to admit it because it was too embarrassing.
"Wait, so," Tashi starts, poking at your side and drawing a nervous giggle from you. It makes her smile. "Is Art that guy you told me about, with the puppy eyes and pretty smile?"
"Okay," you puff out, blushing, "I did not say puppy eyes."
"You think I have puppy eyes?" Art asks you, his gaze softening.
When you take a few seconds too long to answer, Patrick claps his hands together and swings his arm over yours and Art's shoulders, pulling the two of you closer to him. "Aw," he teasingly coos at the two of you getting all flustered, "you think he has puppy eyes."
"It was so long ago," you say, running your hands over the soft fabric of your dress. "I don't even remember."
"I'm so sure you don't," Patrick hums, a knowing look in his eyes before he presses a sloppy kiss against your cheek.
You groan, shoving your hand in his face to push him off before you stumble to stand on your feet again, wiping your cheek from his spit. "You're disgusting," you huff, but there's no real bite in your words because there's a faint smile threatening to appear at the corners of your lips. 
You stand there for a beat or two, brushing off your dress and feeling the weight of the night settling in. You stare down at the three of them sitting on the curb, the neon lights of the diner buzzing behind you. You can see the hall where your engagement party is from where you stand; you almost don't want to go back.
"Okay," you tuck your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, "this... this has been fun."
"Don't leave yet," Tashi says while Art's smile drops, his face falling in disappointment.
"Yeah," Patrick rushes to stand, reaching for you, "the party was just getting started."
"I really have to get back," you step away. "If anyone finds out I left, I'll hear about it for days. This has been great. Like, seriously, I don't think I've ever laughed this hard since before..." You trail off, your tongue getting tied as you glance at Tashi, then at her knee, covered by the length of her dark purple dress. You clear your throat. "Well, uh, I better go. But thank you again, for the beer and the burgers and the memories. I hope you guys can make it to the wedding."
You start to walk away before they can say anything. Like, on purpose, as if you know that if they tried to make you stay and ditch your party, you would. You would cave to their defences.
The sound of your heels is deafening. Tashi watches you go, she watches how you wrap your arms around yourself, and it all feels too similar to how she watched you go all those years ago and never chased after you. 
"Don’t marry him," Tashi stands from the curb. She's shaky on her feet, taking long strides to walk past Patrick and hoping to catch up to you. She sees you freeze in your steps, barely out of the parking lot. You turn to look at her quickly, face falling in shock at her demand.
"What?" Your voice is quiet, hoping that your ears are betraying you.
Tashi slows down once she is close enough, the distance between you is almost nothing but the gap feels like miles. The red and blue lights from the neon sign blend into a deep purple against your skin, casting an ethereal glow that makes this moment feel suspended in time. She watches your face, sees the way your brows knit together, the flicker of anger and confusion in your eyes.
Her heart is pounding, the blood rushing in her ears almost drowning out her voice. But she forces herself to speak, her voice low and urgent. "Don’t marry him," she says again, each word feeling like it's being ripped from her chest. Her resolve, which had held firm all these years, finally crumbles.
Getting Patrick back into her life had been one of the most complicated, tangled pains she had ever undertaken. The late-night calls, the awkward meetings, the painstakingly slow rebuilding of trust between herself and Art. 
None of it had been easy.
Yet, even with Patrick back, there had always been something missing—a void that only you could fill.
She looks into your eyes, her gaze unwavering, despite the tears welling up. "Please," she pleads, her voice breaking. "Please, don't marry him." The words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea that carries years of longing and regret. She knows that having you back won't make up for the lost time, and won't magically fix all the mistakes and missed opportunities. But she can at least try, can at least fight for the chance to make things right.
"Tashi, you can't possibly be asking me to—"
"It’s not worth it," she tells you anyway, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken truths. She knows it’s a risk, a gamble she's taking by laying her heart bare, but she can’t hold back any longer. The years of resentment, of silent longing, bubble to the surface, fueled by the sight of you with someone else's ring on your finger. It's a bitter pill to swallow, the realization that she resented you not for leaving, but for never coming back. 
Why didn't you come back?
Tashi's words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea born from years of unspoken desires and regrets. "Both of you want different things anyway. You don't love him," she continues, her voice raw with emotion, "it's not gonna last. One day you're gonna wake up in the middle of the night and realize I'm right. You'd hate to admit it, but I will be right. I am right. He doesn't deserve you. He's no good for you."
You scoff, "And you are?"
"You said it yourself," she presses on, her voice barely above a whisper, "You've never laughed the way you do with us. And you kept in touch with Patrick, so that's gotta mean something." It's a feeble attempt to grasp at straws. "Marrying him will just be another excuse, another stupid reason. I thought you were better than that."
Then she remembers that night before you left for London, back in 2012. It's like a distant memory now, a flicker of what could have been. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as you stood on the precipice of something new. She remembers the way your eyes met hers after your exchange with Art at the hotel bar, a brief greeting with an old friend, both of you at the peaks of your careers. It is a silent exchange of longing and regret. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
She remembers the smell of your perfume, the bitterness of the drink you were having and how she could taste it when she kissed you; tongue running over your teeth, nails clawing at skin, hair tangled between fingers, hot breaths and unkept promises and false apologies and a night of regret.
And then the morning came, and with it, you had to leave. And she never stopped you.
"Tashi… I can't just throw this all away for you. For any of you. You were the one who told me to leave."
"I know."
"Because you know everything, right? Because you know he's not good for me, you know it all."
"I know you."
"No, you don’t," you say, your voice tinged with hurt. "Not anymore.”
Tashi huffs, shaking her head before she reaches out, cupping your cheeks gently in her hands. Her lips hover over yours for a moment, a silent plea hanging in the air between you. She waits, her heart pounding in her chest, for you to make a move—to kiss her, to push her away, anything.
You gaze into her eyes, tears glistening in the dim light, before finally closing the distance between you. The kiss is tender, and bittersweet, a culmination of years of unspoken longing and regret. It's a brief moment of solace amid chaos.
Your hands dig into the nape of her neck, where the short ends of her dyed hair tickle the skin of your wrist. The heat of your engagement ring nearly burns her, the edge of the diamond scraping against her skin.
When you pull away, breathless, Tashi fears this will be the last time she will see you. 
"Tashi, this doesn’t change anything," you say, your voice trembling.
"It changes everything," she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You know it does."
But you step back, breaking the contact, the distance between you growing with each passing moment. "I have to go," you murmur, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders. "I need to think."
As you walk away, Tashi watches you go, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She clings to the memory of that fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. 
Back in the hotel room, an uneasy silence settles among the trio. Tashi steps out of the shower, her mind a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. The press of your lips still lingers on her own, a persistent buzz that crawls under her skin. 
As she rubs lotion into her arms, she takes her time, methodically moving over each inch of her skin as if she could somehow rub away the confusion and yearning. She finishes her skincare routine, staring at herself in the mirror, almost meeting the eyes of the eighteen-year-old girl who had her whole life ahead of her. It's a constant chant in her head not to dwell in the past. 
She has to focus—she needs to find a way to pull Patrick Zweig out of the top 200 ranks and get him qualified for the US Open by the time the next season starts.
Speaking of the devil, when Tashi steps out of the bathroom, she finds Patrick lounging on the loveseat by the open window. Naturally, his shirt has found itself a home on the floor, and a cigarette dangles from his lips.
He perks up when she walks out, sitting up to greet her, "Don't beat yourself up."
Tashi rolls her eyes and climbs into the bed, letting herself sink into the soft comforter. "Shut the fuck up, Patrick. And put that shit out."
"I'm just saying," he shrugs, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette out the window, grinning when he hears Tashi scoff. "She's a stubborn little shit," he says as the hotel door clicks open and Art walks in. Patrick hums, "Probably only marrying him to piss us off anyway. Been trying to talk her out of it for months. Never listens."
"She might listen to Tashi," Art says, turning to his wife with a hint of optimism in his voice. "Lily's asleep, by the way."
"Right, because my word is stronger than both of yours," Tashi retorts, pulling the blanket over her legs.
Art and Patrick glance at each other before nodding, "Yes."
"Well, yeah."
They all sit in silence for a while, each lost in their own little bubble. The hotel room is quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of the bedspread. 
Art joins Tashi on the bed, absently flipping through the channels on the television, the remote clicking softly in his hand. Beside him, Tashi pretends to read a book, her eyes scanning the same sentence over and over again without really absorbing the words. Meanwhile, Patrick rummages through the mini fridge, the sound of bottles clinking and wrappers crinkling breaking the stillness.
A quiet knock on the door makes the three of them freeze, their heads snapping up in unison. They exchange hesitant glances, each wondering if they imagined it. Then three raps against the wood sound again, more insistent this time. Patrick scrambles to the door, Art and Tashi close behind him, their curiosity piqued and their hearts pounding.
Patrick swings the door open, and there you are, a sight for sore eyes. You're still in the same dress, though one of the straps has fallen off your shoulder, and your makeup is smudged around your eyes. You hold your phone close, dropping it from your ear.
"I tried calling," you say, turning your phone so they can see Patrick's contact, a simple 'pat' with a cute tennis ball emoji next to his nickname. "You never answered."
"My phone died." He shrugs.
You let your hand fall to your front, where your fingers pull on each other nervously. Tashi can't help but notice the lack of a ring on your finger all of a sudden. She raises her brows at you, a knowing look flashing across her face before she tells you, "Something's changed."
You roll your eyes and step into the room, sliding between Art and Patrick easily. "A lot has changed." You walk until you reach the middle of the room. 
It's a big hotel room, not nearly as big as the ones Art and Tashi are used to staying in, but big and luxurious nonetheless. You fit in perfectly with your white gown and styled hair, a vision of elegance even in your dishevelled state.
You turn, facing the three of them again. "I hope whatever offer you guys were hinting at earlier still stands... I don't exactly have anywhere else to stay, unless I want to hear my mother telling me how she was right the entire night."
Tashi smirks. "You know I'm about to tell you the same thing too, right?" She closes the space between the two of you, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. Her nails brush against your jaw in a feather-light touch until her fingers pause below your lips.
"Yeah, I know."
You don't seem too upset about it. Instead, you're grinning, letting Tashi push her thumb between your lips. The gesture is intimate, charged with unspoken emotion. You're standing face-to-face when she says, "I told you so."
She leads you to sit on the bed, and you let her, nearly tripping over your heels before you land on the soft duvets. Tashi leans down, her nose brushing against yours, and you swallow your heart racing.
"You were right," you murmur. It's hard to maintain eye contact when your skin is buzzing with heat and when there's so much going on in the depths of her eyes that it dizzies you. "I hate it, though."
Her nose is cold against yours, a sharp contrast to the warmth of her breath. You let your eyes fall shut as she slowly traces patterns under your chin, pressing her thumb harder into your mouth before pulling it out. She catches the side of your face with it, making a mess with your spit.
She smiles, "I know you do."
Instinctively, and embarrassingly, there's a shiver rolling down your spine.
Tashi releases a small chuckle, and then, after a final moment, her lips fill in the small gap between you both. You sink into it immediately, heart rejoicing as her lips, warm and smooth, explore your own.
It's a little fumbly, nervous and making you tremble under her hands. Tashi loves every second of it. Her fingers grip your face tighter, mouth pressing to yours with more hunger as you wind your fingers into her hair and sigh. Between gasped breaths and soft sounds of enjoyment, she slips her tongue along your lower lip, and so you open your mouth a little wider.
Tashi ends up straddling you, making out like you're both teenagers again, putting on a show for Art and Patrick. The exhilarating butterflies twirling in your stomach match the memories, too. 
You moan softly as she pulls away from your mouth, her attention shifting to your neck. As you watch Patrick and Art make their way to sit next to you on the bed, the bed dipping, you tilt your head to the side and open up your throat to Tashi. You whimper as you feel her lips drag over your exposed skin. She nibbles and sucks until she finds the sensitive part that makes you cry out.
"Fuck," you whimper. You tug on her air-dried curls, coaxing her back up to your lips so you can enjoy the feeling of her mouth on yours. Tashi sighs, and you can feel her smiling into it while beckoning Art and Patrick to join in.
Their lips are on you in a split second, with Art pressing soft, ticklish kisses against your collarbone, and Patrick sliding his tongue from your shoulder to the back of your ear. He's moaning at the taste of you, sucking a bruise under your jaw while digging his hand into the back of your hair. 
He slowly starts to bring his sloppy kisses to your mouth, lips brushing against Tashi's and your own before she draws back. You whine, pouting as you watch her take a few steps away before making herself comfortable in the cushioned seats by a small dining table. You can't pout for too long, because now Patrick is kissing you, tugging softly at your hair until your back arches.
His tongue presses against yours, pressing as far back as he can reach, swallowing your every moan and whimper. You bring your hand up to scratch at his beard, then run your nails over his scalp. This is when Art starts to get a little bolder by running his hands up and down your thighs, pulling and pulling the long skirt of your dress until he reaches the end of it and he can touch your skin and take off your heels, tossing them aside somewhere.
Patrick traps your lower lip between his teeth, watching it bounce back into its place as he leans back just the slightest bit. You break apart with a whimper. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, then flick down to the trail of spit strung between your glistening lips. He stares at you, cheeks a little red as he smirks, "I've missed this. Missed you."
You smile, breathless as Art's hand makes its way up higher and higher and closer to your heat, his mouth is relentless with its attack at your neck. He grinds his crotch against the side of your leg and you cradle the back of his head with your other hand.
"You saw me last week, Patrick."
"Last week?" Art pulls away. His lips are parted, eyes a little dazed but focused enough to stare between you and Patrick in confusion. Tashi smirks from where she sits and shifts in her place.
"We're not all perfect, Art." You groan, rolling your eyes as Patrick laughs, reaching over you to start pulling down Art's pants who shifts in his place to let him. Once they're off, he looks at you, and it's embarrassing how fast you tangle together, melding together into a pathetic heap on the bed for Tashi and Patrick to see. 
Your lips move in tandem, his soft, pouty lips slitting against yours with ease as you lead his hands to your chest and shove them under your dress.
Art squeezes and fondles your breasts over your bra, his hips jerking against your leg again, almost desperate as his boner presses against the fabric of your dress as it has fallen down again.
Tashi startles you as she settles behind, one knee on the bed while her other long leg steadies her on the carpeted floor below. You let her tilt you backward, parting you from Art and she draws you into an upside-down kiss. The salacious kiss leaves your legs parting for the two men beside you. 
Patrick makes quick work of taking that damn dress off of you and you sputter out a pathetic moan when Art's soft hands tease your hardening nipples once Patrick gets half of it off.
Your dress eventually falls into a heap on the floor in front of the bed, you’d matched with it a white paired set underneath. 
"No fucking way," You peek one eye open slightly to see Patrick scowling while Art runs his hands everywhere he can reach, across your stomach, your thighs, under your boobs, down your back. 
Patrick tilts his head and groans, "I can't believe you wore this shit for him."
Your hand cups Tashi's jaw to deepen the kiss as you both ignore Patrick, only Art snorting out a laugh as he tugs his shirt over his head. 
Patrick slots himself between your open legs, stopping just a breath short of your aching cunt to nip teasingly at your soft inner thigh before dragging his mouth up to your neck again. He revels in the moans he's able to draw from you as he finally comes to caress your face. 
You pull away from Tashi and gasp in a breath. "Kiss me, Pat," You bite your lip, feeling your heart race as he eyes you up so openly. 
"Beg me," He counters with a quirked brow, challenging you. 
Your nose crinkles, "I'm not doing that."
"I'm not kissing you, then."
"Shut up and kiss her, Patrick," Tashi groans, attached to Art. She holds his face the same way she did with you, pulling him closer and letting the man crawl to her. But she's glaring at Patrick with venom behind it you know she can’t mean when she's trembling under Art's gentle touch as he slips off her silky nightgown.
"Come here," You beckon Patrick closer with a fiendish look in your half-lidded eyes.
"Yes, ma'am." Patrick nods, dazed as he obliges. "Anything you want, beautiful," His voice slightly slurs as the space between you diminishes once again. "I'll do anything for you," His husky voice drapes around your name like velvet as it's whispered against your plush lips.
Your hands easily find themselves tangled in Patrick's curly hair and tug him to your lips with aching want. You dive in immediately, lips meshing against and, eventually, catching against his chapped lips. 
A moan escapes from your throat and he uses it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. From there, it's another flurry of saliva, tongue and entirely too much white-hot pressure building below. 
When you break for a breath, a string of saliva stretches between each of your red, puffy lips. Patrick groans at the sight and pulls you in for a slower, raw kiss that leaves you slick and trembling for more. When you pull apart again, Patrick plants a sweet kiss on Art's mouth before focusing back solely on you, his hand slowly approaching your white thong.
When he starts to rub, you moan into his mouth and start trailing your hand to his crotch, palming his dick. Patrick reciprocates easily and tugs at your lower lip with an impish look in his eyes. 
Lips attack your neck again, pulling you higher up on the bed. You hear pants and clothes being shed from every angle around you before you're surrounded again, hands everywhere.
While Art pulls Patrick into a kiss, Tashi cups your face again and draws you into a gentle one as you settle between her legs, your back to her chest. You rest your head on Tashi's shoulder as you heave out another breath, her hands travelling from your navel to tracing shapes on your clit, over your wet panties, spreading your legs apart with her own. 
"Please, Tash," you whimper as her fingers curl around the edge of the fabric and tug so it strains against your leaking cunt perfectly. She then decides to skim a whisper of her touch against your pulsing ache. 
You gape as Patrick wraps his hand around Art's dick, stoking it, and he lets out the prettiest little whine. Patrick slowly works his way down Art's body, running his tongue between each curve of his muscles, collecting the sweat that's been building on his skin before wrapping his mouth around him, taking all of it in one insatiable bob of his head.
Tashi's nails tickle lightly up your stomach, then in the valley between your breasts and then back down again. It has you spiralling, arching your back as she presses a kiss at your neck.
"You're being so good," she coos into your ear. Your name is only a breath out of her mouth, and she's edging your clit with a gentle roughness that could only come from a woman of her calibre. Tashi pulls your panties aside and flicks and flits about your dripping cunt like she already knows how to make you come undone.
It makes you tremble. You'd sworn up and down earlier about how Tashi didn't know you anymore, and here she is, proving to you that she still does, that she knows every curve and divot of your body, that she still knows what makes you whimper and twitch.
Your hand quickly reaches behind you, between the heat of your back and her body and finds her clit and you try to emulate how she's making you weak. Each quiet gasp you earn from her has you moaning back tenfold under her saccharine trance and she quickly starts pumping two fingers into you.
One particular flick of Tashi's thumb on your clit coupled with her lips gliding against and sucking your own in a wanton kiss sends you over the edge. You moan and cum, back arching as you relentlessly force Tashi's hand against your cunt, searching for more delicious friction. 
She takes you all, and lets you ride it all out on her fingers while swallowing every moan you let out in a lewd, wet kiss. Art and Patrick moan appreciatively at the two of you, then focus back on each other.
Before you're able to come down from your high, Art's shoving his come down Patrick's greedy throat. He swallows it all, pulling off Art's red-tipped cock with a vulgar pop that creates a trail of saliva in its wake. 
Patrick smiles down at you and leans closer, and you think he's about to kiss you but then he swerves and kisses Tashi instead, who removes her hand from your cunt and slowly works it up his thigh until she cups his balls and gives them a gentle squeeze. He moans into her mouth, winking at you amid his impromptu make-out session you were tempted to join.
You shimmy back and turn on your stomach, positioning yourself between Tashi's long tanned legs. "Can I eat you out?" You ask while kissing up her leg, and you want to hear how much she needs you. You bite at your bottom lip as you nuzzle into her juicy cunt. "Tashi?" You look up at her from where your face is pressed against her. Her sweet smell makes you sigh as you tease your tongue with her hip bone. "Please, Tash, let me taste you." 
"Yeah, go for it," Comes her breathless plea.
You finally pull her lips apart, revelling in how she squirms against your hold on her hips. 
You're on your knees, trapped arching between Tashi's long legs when you hear Art clear his throat. You give one long lick up Tashi's twitching cunt before turning around with her slick dribbling down onto your chin to where Art has sidled up behind you.
Art crawls closer to you, "Can I touch you, beautiful?" He tilts your chin up as he awaits your answer. 
When you nod, he easily descends upon your lips, placing a sure hand behind your head as he deepens the kiss into something absolutely filthy. As soon as you break apart, he kisses your shoulder, then down your spine.
Tashi guides you back to her. You allow her nails to tangle in your locks as she forces your head back down against her arching hips.
"Shit," Patrick huffs, rough hands reaching for the globes of your ass while Art's smoother ones trail up your spread, inner thighs. Tashi tugs at his dick a little harder, which has him panting against her lips.
Tashi gasps as you flick at her clit then quickly move to tease her entrance with the tip of your tongue. You flatten your tongue, dragging it across her length and repeat the motion until she whines for you to stop. 
You slurp the combination of drool and slick as you pull away with a pussy-drunk smile. She meets it with a panting, dazed one and removes her hand from your hair to push her own out of her eyes while Patrick sucks at her neck.
"Ah!" You startle forward into Tashi's tits as Art finally breeches your entrance with his index finger. 
"Eat our girl out, Art," Tashi motions for Art to lie down under your spread form to get a better angle. You can't deny that the new nickname drives you a little crazy. "Show her she's ours."
Art's soft hands draw another moan out of you as they assuredly grip your hips to keep you in place while he unleashes teasing licks against your pussy.
Tashi draws you back to her. You'd know that look anywhere—she's ready to cum.
"I want you," Her breath hitches around your name while your tongue steals the rest of her coherent words until she's a withering mess under your touch. 
Her pornstar-worthy moans ring out across the room like a beautiful symphony. Tashi's wanton noises coupled with the wet whines you're unleashing against her folds until the two of you create the lewdest duet this hotel's ever heard. 
She arches against the bedframe as she tells you her near release, tugging at your hair as she draws closer and closer to the edge.
Panting, she draws you against her lips for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. 
"Fuck, Tashi," You groan against her plump lips, feeling your own impending orgasm drawing near. "You're so fucking hot, I-"
She cuts off your rambling with another wet kiss. Her tongue flicks out to tease yours before sucking it into her mouth with a lewd slurp. Your hand works alongside hers to leave her shaking and whimpering against your lips as she comes undone by your hand. You smack her cunt lightly, eating the groan she feeds into your open mouth as she rides it out.
Tashi eats your moans as they echo against your messy tangling of lips and tongues.
Art's fingers start to pick up a pace as Patrick, feeling left out, starts thrusting his throbbing cock in the middle of your sapphic kiss with Tashi. You eye the two with half-lidded eyes as you share Patrick's cock with her. After only a few moments in your mouth, Patrick pulls out and releases across Tashi's and your expectant tongues.
"So fucking good to me," Patrick pants as he splatters the last of his come across your faces with a shaky groan. "Best fucking orgasm ever, swear it," He says as he encases his lips around yours, swapping his cum between your mouths before moving to Tashi to do the same.
Art moves out from under you, offering your knees relief as he lays you back against Tashi's stomach to fuck into you.
It's a slow and cruel pace, only made crueller by how Patrick and Tashi touch you like they already know where you want to be touched. Each brunette takes a side, Patrick sucking your tit into his mouth while Tashi's mouth draws you in for a kiss. Her nails tickle at your other erect nipples until you're arching off of her and into Art's thrusts, making him whimper.
"Just like that," Art whines your name. "You're so fucking tight."
It's when Patrick and Tashi move their attention down to your clit that you know you're fucked. Patrick spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as intensely as Art does as his cock disappears in and out of your hole.
"He could've never made you feel like this, right?" Tashi rasps. "He has no strategy, no real game. Just a fucking waste of space. Could never make you feel this good, this loved."
You don't need her to say his name, you know what she means. You're panting, shaking your head against her shoulder. "Never."
"Told ya," Patrick laughs into your skin. "Make her cum, Art. C'mon, man." 
"Fuck- please," You whimper, nodding. "I need to come, baby-" Without warning, you arch off of Tashi. Neither she nor Patrick stops their jerks against your clit as you gasp, eyes rolling back in your head with the thrum of a second wave creeping up on you with a steady building heat. Waves of pleasure roll over you as the tantalizing sensations become too much. You come loudly, arching pathetically off the bed as you desperately reach for Art, to hold him.
You're wriggling in Tashi and Patrick's arms as Art pulls out and releases across your expanding and retracting stomach as you pant out the remnants of your orgasm. 
"Shit," He moans, and his voice sends waves of aftershock across your body while his steady hands draw you against his naked chest for a toe-curling kiss.
You'd never been happier to have invited Patrick Zweig to your engagement party.
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vanteguccir · 3 days
Text
Fighting her for a trend | Chris Sturniolo
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Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Chris has the idea of doing the famous TikTok trend "fighting my girlfriend in front of my brothers" with Y/N, just to see Nick and Matt's reaction.
Requested?: Yes, by anon
Warning: Fake fighting, yelling, crying.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
It was a typical sunny Sunday afternoon. The family of four were at home, enjoying the weekend to relax after their recent trip to Boston.
Nick and Matt were in the living room, playing video games on the big television, loud sounds of car and guns accompanied by laughter and swearing echoed through the large room; while Y/N and Chris were in the kitchen, the girl cooking lunch for them while her boyfriend was leaning against the closed refrigerator, enjoying the light cold that the stainless steel surface provided for his body.
His hands were holding his phone, where he was absentmindedly watching videos on TikTok, scrolling mindlessly, his blue eyes occasionally looking up at his girl, watching her with passionate and careful eyes.
Y/N was cutting some vegetables when Chris quickly approached out of nowhere, surprising her by suddenly touching her back, a wide smile already resting on his face.
"Babe, look at this!" The brunette shouted in a whisper, raising his right hand and resting his cell against his own palm so that the screen was facing Y/N, touching his thumb to the softly lit surface.
Y/N put down the pointy knife momentarily, focusing on the video on low volume that showed a couple pretending to fight each other over something silly in the presence of the boy's parents, apparently waiting to see the reaction of the elders. She had already watched some similar videos on her own app, vaguely remembering the new and already very known trend.
Her confused eyes looked up at her boyfriend's face after the video ended and went back to the beginning automatically, seeing him already looking back at her with a euphoric gaze.
"That's cool, baby, but what does it mean?"
Chris explained his plan in detail in a hushed tone, keeping an attentive eye to his brothers, not wanting them to see his actions.
He would go to their room to "get something" and seconds later, he would go back upstairs pretending to be furious, holding a broken mug that he would also pretend that was his favorite. He would accuse Y/N of breaking the dishes and say horrible things to her in front of Nick and Matt, all to see his brothers' reaction.
"Do you think this is a good idea? What if they take it too seriously?" Y/N watched him explain in detail, her teeth capturing her bottom lip in a light grip momentarily, feeling hesitant.
"Relax, it'll be so cool! Nick and Matt will understand when we explain it after. Plus, it'll be funny to see their reaction." Chris explained quickly, pushing his girl's right shoulder with his own before gluing his hands in a praying gesture.
After a few moments of reflection, Y/N agreed, rolling her eyes playfully at his happiness before picking up her knife again and going back to cutting the vegetables, watching from the corner of her eye as Chris opened one of the cabinets above the stove and fished a dull, white mug from the bottom of the triplets' collection.
The boy showed the piece to his girl excitedly, receiving a laugh and shaking of head as a response. He leaned slightly towards her, sealing the top of her head softly before turning around, walking in discreet steps to the stairs that led to their shared room.
It didn't take long for the sound of footsteps to be heard again, this time firmer and faster. The boy quickly went up the last steps, already getting into character. When he entered the double room, his face was red with "anger" and he held the shards of the mug tightly.
"Y/N!" He shouted, his voice echoing through the house. "Did you do this shit?" His hand, which was holding the broken mug, rose into the air, rudely showing the pieces. "You broke my favorite mug!? How could you be so careless?"
Nick and Matt, who were sitting on the couch, looked up quickly, stopping playing instantly, focusing their widened eyes on Chris. They had never seen their brother so upset, not with his girlfriend.
"Hey! I'm talking to you!"
Y/N dropped the knife on the counter with a dull thud, turning around slowly in fright, a fake expression of surprise resting on her face.
"Chris, I swear I didn't do it on purpose." The girl said, her voice slightly shaking as she raised her hands in surrender. "I was just cleaning up the mess, trying to help..."
"Help? You messed everything up! As always." Chris retorted, walking quickly towards the kitchen table and throwing the broken pieces of the mug against the wooden surface, the sound of more shattering ceramics echoing through the room. "That was my favorite mug! Do you have any idea when I got it? Years ago! You're useless, Y/N. Honestly, I don't even know why I'm still with you!"
Nick and Matt looked at each other, visibly uncomfortable and shocked. Nick shook his head, trying to understand if this was serious, while Matt bit his own lower lip, seeming to have an internal struggle between intervening or not. The sound of the video game coming from the television sounded muffled to their ears.
"C-Chris, I'm sorry, I can try to find another-"
"There's no other like it, Y/N! How could you?!" The boy growled, his features tightening more.
"Chris, hey, that's enough." Matt finally intervened, rising from his seat on the couch and approaching with cautious steps. "It's just a mug. You're overreacting."
"Overreacting? You don't understand, Matt. She always does this! Always ruins everything!" Chris continued, walking around the table and advancing towards Y/N, who took a few steps back until her back was against the counter, pretending to be scared. "Look at her! She can't even do a simple task without ruining it!"
"I'm so sorry, Chris. I didn't mean to do that..." Y/N made her bottom lip tremble slightly, forcing her own eyes to water. "Maybe it can be fixed-"
"Apologies aren't gonna fix it, Y/N! I'm sick of your messes!" He shouted as he gestured furiously, moving even closer.
Nick stood up from the couch abruptly as he saw his brother getting closer and closer to his best friend, his own fists clenched.
"Enough, Chris. I'm not going to let you talk to her like that. This is ridiculous! You're losing your temper." The oldest triplet shouted angrily, approaching Matt and glaring at Chris, who completely ignored him and continued advancing.
Matt realized within seconds that his brother wasn't going to hear Nick, sending a look towards the older triplet, who quickly shook his head. Nick approached the girl with quick steps, feeling Matt's eyes on his back, moving closer to the couple and placing himself in front of Y/N, crossing his arms firmly, his eyebrows knitting together in an angrier expression.
"Get out of the way, Nick. This is none of your business." Chris imitated his posture, crossing his arms and glaring at him, taking a quick look at his girl behind his brother, seeing her slightly wet face below the light of the room, feeling like crying himself. He hated seeing her upset.
"Oh, but it is my business, yes. She doesn't deserve to be treated like that!" Nick replied, his voice firm. "And if you scream one more time, I swear I'll shove all these mug pieces in your mouth and make you swallow them."
"You're crossing the line, Chris. It's just a mug, man. That's no reason to act like that. She's your girlfriend and a woman, have some respect, Mary Lou didn't teach you that." Matt joined Nick, nodding as he walked over as well, standing close to Y/N, casting a quick look of concern in her direction.
"How can you defend her? She broke my favorite mug due to lack of attention! I'm so sick of-" Chris's sentence was rudely interrupted by Nick, who took a step closer to him, his right hand coming up quickly and his fingers grabbing the tip of Chris's exposed ear, pulling it down hard. "Ouch! Are you fucking crazy? Nick!"
"You will see crazy if you insult my best friend one more time." Nick quickly responded, shrugging and looking down on him.
Chris held his glare for a few more seconds, his blue eyes darting from Matt - who was stroking Y/N's right shoulder lightly, asking in a hushed voice if she was okay - to Nick and back again, his ear starting to burn with pain, until he finally couldn't take it anymore and started laughing.
Y/N stopped pretending to cry and smiled, relieved, quickly wiping her face as a tearful laugh escaped her throat, jokingly pushing Matt lightly.
"Surprise!" Chris said, still laughing. "You've been pranked."
Nick and Matt broke their tense postures within seconds, Matt lowering his arms so they were straight at his sides before turning, looking at the two, confused for a moment.
"You two are such idiots!" Matt exclaimed, raising his right hand and running his fingers furiously across his face, trying to ease the tension that had settled there. "I almost had a heart attack here!"
"I really thought you were out of control, Chris." Nick said, letting go of his brother's ear, rolling his eyes at the wince the younger let out. "Don't ever do that again!"
"You almost got my ear off!" Chris exclaimed, massaging his ear and casting a look of fake horror towards his girlfriend, who laughed quietly at his reaction.
"You'll see what I'll really get off if you do that shit again. You too, Y/N." Nick pointed at the girl, receiving a look of false shock.
"It was his idea!"
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My requests are closed, but my asks are always open ♡
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @watermelonreid @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @annamcdonalds67 @always-reading @fuckshitslover
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
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5sospenguinqueen · 11 hours
Text
Play Pretend | Charles Leclerc x Law Student! Reader
Summary: He's Lightning McQueen. You're Elle Woods. But, when Charles misses you, he makes it known that perhaps your career isn't as important as his wishes to start a family.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever? Miscommunication.
Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.
2024 but some events switched around 
I'm trying to make all of these different to each other so I'm sorry that this one was less baby fever and more baby mention.
Main Masterlist
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and others 
YourUserName the cause of stress v. the support systems   tagged: charles_leclerc, YourBestFriend
6,883 comments
User1 i love how all her captions ft her degree are legal themed 
User2 our favourite elle woods 
charles_leclerc ❤️💛
charles_leclerc mon ange, what are you doing in that second photo
→ YourUserName it’s probably best you don’t know, char
→ YourBestFriend cocktails were involved
→ charles_leclerc this is why i don’t like leaving her with you 
→ YourBestFriend cry me a river, vroom vroom boy 
User3 i love that max follows charles’ gf but not charles himself 
francisca.cgomes get that degree, girl! 
lilymhe i still think i would be a better support system than charles
→ YourUserName and i fully agree. let’s run away together
→ alex_albon whoa, whoa, whoa. get your own girlfriend
→ charles_leclerc she already has her own girlfriend! 
→ charles_leclerc wait, no
→ User4 the prettiest girlfriend
User5 i swear charles and y/n are the cutest f1 couple
→ User6 they always look so infatuated with each other 
→ User7 umm, how? she's literally never at races 
→ User8 because she’s off being successful in her own way, and charles supports that? plus, she’s always snapped in ferrari merch on race days whether she’s there or not
→ User9 omg yes! when a classmate took a pic of her leaving a final in bright red, and she was easily the most spottable person in that hall 
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charles_leclerc just posted
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liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and others
charles_leclerc welcome home baby leo  tagged: YourUserName
12,298 comments
User10 omg dad charles!! 
User11 charles in his dog dad era
User12 we’ve only had leo for a minute now but if anything happened to him, i would kill everyone here and then myself 
YourUserName my two favourite boys ❤️
→ User13 mom and dad!! 
User14 did you see in the background of one of the pics, they have his “birth certificate” framed and it says leo leclerc-y/l/n. he truly is their child
→ User15 omg they would make the best parents
→ User16 agreed! i can’t wait for them to have a baby. it would be too cute, i fear
roscoelovescoco can’t wait’s to see’s a new’s friend in’s the paddock’s 
→ User17 roscoe-leo play date when please
→ User18 not until 2025 😂
User19 but let’s all take a moment to appreciate how cool leo’s parents are. he has an f1 racer for a dad, and a fashionable law student for a mum
→ User20 haha his parents are lightning mcqueen and elle woods 
pierregasly thanks mate. now kika is going to want one
→ YourUserName and you should give her one. i need a mum friend 
User21 first they adopt ollie and now leo. who’s next
→ YourUserName oscar
→ User21 omg i love you! 
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User1 the interviewer was asking about future races and charles wasted no time in bringing up his girlfriend. he’s so down bad 
User2 the way his face lights up when he talks about her. he really does love her. 
User3 how cute. they’ve just gotten a puppy together, and he’s already thinking about all the future things he wants to do 
User4 oh Charles, honey, that’s not giving what you think it is 
User5 any other woman slightly uncomfortable with the way this was worded?
→ User6 lets all take a moment to remember that english isn’t his first language. he obviously meant well, and the love in his eyes shows that he’s excited about a life with y/n, it just wasn’t worded in the best way 
User7 the interviewer was so skeezy for that last comment though
→ User8 it’s the way charles' face changed when the interviewer said that. like he realised what he was saying came across the wrong way 
User9 i feel so bad for y/n. she’s always so supportive of charles' races, even when she’s not there, and charles is talking about how he can't wait for her to be done with her degree so she can follow him around the world 
→ User10 i don’t think he meant it that way. he looked horrified when the interviewer interpreted it that way but the interview ended before he could clarify further 
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User11 do we think mom and dad are fighting after his *slightly* misogynistic comments about making her a kept woman
→ User12 i really hope not but my heart says yes because he basically said he’ll turn her into a travel wife who only cares about his career but said nothing about her career that she’s working really hard on
User13 i’m hoping that she’s just mad at him and eventually they’ll talk this through
→ User14 praying. like it wasn’t a great thing to say but hopefully they argue, say a few harsh words and carry on being the most adorable couple in f1
User15 i didn’t realise how much i depended on y/n’s post race posts until i didn’t get one
→ User16 she always posts the most panty-dropping post race charles pics 
User17 i miss them already 
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User1 oh god, it’s official
User2 i am not feeling good
User3 brb just gonna go cry my eyes out for an hour 
User4 what do you mean mum and dad have broken up 
User5 literally half of her insta posts have disappeared because they were all charles 
→ User6 the only thing keeping me sane is that any post where he wasn’t the main focus but slightly in them have been kept 
User7 omg I just checked and it’s true!!!
User8 i know we didn’t get her in the paddock all the time but i’m going to miss seeing her ferrari themed fits 
User9 the nation of monaco is in mourning
User10 can someone check on ollie? see how he’s coping as a child of divorce 
liked by OllieBearman
User11 yes, yes. this is all very sad but now that i’m done crying, can we talk about what is going to happen with leo? is this going to be a shared custody agreement?
→ User12 how could i forget about leo. do you think they’ll see each other at child drop off or make arthur be the middle man?
User13 i can't believe they just got a puppy together and now they’re going to be co-parenting instead :( 
User14 i no longer believe in love
User15 maybe this is just a minor speed bump in the road to their everlasting happiness? (yes, i’m hoping that they’re simply taking a small break)
→ User16 may all your delulus come trululu
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by lilymhe, arthur_leclerc and others 
YourUserName the verdict is unanimous… I’m stressing
3,880 comments
YourBestFriend this barbies practices law
→ YourUserName and she wouldn’t be complete without her historian barbie
→ YourBestFriend not long left, babe. just a couple of exams and we’re qualified adults
→ YourUserName i don’t think we should ever be classed as qualified adults lol 
→ YourMum i still can't get over the fact that you two used to play pretend lawyers as little girls and now you're actually going to be one
lilymhe good luck, y/n. you’re gonna smash these! 
→ YourUserName if not, fancy running me over with your golf cart? 
francisca.cgomes good luck, beautiful girl. and if all else fails, at least you can boast that you know latin
→ YourUserName ut dulcis es, kiks. 
→ francisca.cgomes see, not a clue what you said. But i miss you trying to teach me. brunch soon? 
liked by YourUserName
arthur_leclerc good luck, y/n/n. try not to drink too much caffeine 
→ YourUserName i’m not that bad! 
→ arthur_leclerc you cannot lie to me. i have had to listen to you after three red bulls
→ landonorris betrayal! 
User1 she’s so real for that last slide tho. like miss y/l/n you are gorgeous and we’re glad you know it
YourClassmate how do you look so nice despite being in the library until 2am?
→ User2 dude, no. that line is not going to pull the stunning y/n y/l/n
→ User3 literally, the love of her life is charles leclerc and this guy thinks he’s going to win her over with a bad line 
User4 i’m jealous of how neat those notes are though. i don’t think i’ve ever written that neat 
User5 good luck. don’t let charles’ silly comments stop you from achieving your goals 
User6 guys, is anyone else missing the sweet comments charles would always leave 
→ User7 he would be agreeing with the last slide and telling her how beautiful and smart she is 
→ User8 how about we don’t remind her of her ex-boyfriend the day before her life-changing exams
User9 good luck, y/n. we’re all hoping you do well! 
carlossainz55 good luck🤞🏼
→ User10 not sainz being messy on main
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charles_leclerc just posted
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liked by pierregasly, scuderiaferrari and others
charles_leclerc there is nothing like racing in italy for ferrari. i wish we had a better result, but that was the maximum today. we’ll try again next week. 
8,449 comments
User11 the maximum? babe, you were still on the podium. we’re all proud 
User12 eyes on monaco! charles leclerc, prince of ferrari 
User13 how does one man look THIS good 
User14 did you see his interview of him on his way out of the paddock? man was in a rush with poor leo tucked under his arm
→ User15 it’s y/n’s week with leo so charles was running out there because it was time to go see his favourite girl 
→ User16 he was not wasting a minute to see the love of his life 
User17 charles racing faster to go see his ex-girlfriend who he’s wildly obsessed with than he did all weekend 
→ User18 bestie you better pray he doesn’t see this 
→ User17 why? ‘cause he’ll have to fight the urge to like it 
→ User19 uh, he got a podium. i'd say he drove pretty fast
→ User17 omg guys this wasn’t a criticism on his driving, more of a comparison for how badly he wanted to see y/n
User20 i’m so happy that it’s y/n’s week with leo because we’re going to get the most adorable puppy pics on her story all week
→ User21 also it means that his parents will be conversing 
User22 i love that we’re all depending on leo to get f1’s favourite couple back together 
→ User23 a bad argument tore them apart but an adorable puppy will mend everything 
→ User24 literally, the more they see each other and the more they talk, the sooner they’ll realise they couldn't be with anyone but each other 
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Baby Fever Angst
Daniel's Version | Max's Version | Lando's Version
Lance's Version
Oscar's version will come out next and then I promise, I'll release some of the Part 2s before making any more
(This wasn’t due out until tomorrow but I’ve released it earlier in honour of THE MONACO WIN BABY!!!!!!) 🥳🍾🥳🍾
Tag list
@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @elijahslover @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @brsr @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @dullypully @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish
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peachpitfics · 3 days
Text
Don't Blame Me
Fandom: Bridgerton
Summary: Daphne Bridgerton is your closest childhood friend, her eldest brother, Anthony, is the love of your life. After avoiding each other for years, you both finally lose control.
Length: 3.2k
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Content Warnings: Unprotected sex, sex in public, penetrative vaginal sex, orgasm, 'caught in the act' vibes, best friends brother.
Bridgerton master list (tag list)
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Like many other close family friends of the Bridgerton’s, their home was always a beacon of safety and comfort, especially for you. You were Daphne Bridgerton’s first friend, and you had remained close well into adulthood, she wrote to you still from her new life with the Duke. Unfortunately, Daphne would not be able to meet you in Mayfair this season, the Bridgerton’s playing host while your mother and father were out of the country. It was your third year out; you had a few hopeful matches in mind, not realizing how difficult the season might be with unobtainable love staring you in the face.
“We are so glad to have you this year, y/n. It has been so long since we have seen you around the Ton” Violet Bridgerton was as much your mother as your own.
“Father’s responsibilities have been consuming these past few years. Mother and I hardly made it to the season last year. I am glad to be here, spending some time in familiar places” You smiled, linking arms with her as she escorted you to the ballroom. Your parents had entrusted your match to you, however, had requested the viscountess to keep a watchful eye.
Waltzing into the drawing room, just like old times, Benedict and Colin, discarding their playing cards, exclaimed with joy, rushing to greet you as if a long-lost sibling had returned. There was nothing as lonely as being an only child, deep in the countryside. Eloise was fretting in the corner, fingers agitated, tapping the outside of a book. This was to be her coming out year.
Anthony entered from the far side door, his feet skidding to a halt at the sight of you.
“You arrived” Anthony said flatly, turning on the ball of his foot, and exiting as quickly as he had come in. Embarrassed, you frowned, smiling chastely praying no one would notice his strange behaviour. It had been a year since you had last seen each other.
“I apologise, he is so bizarre in the mornings lately” Violet squeezed your shoulders, leading you over to a table laden with treats. Sitting on the settee with Hyacinth and Eloise, eating small cakes and discussing the books being read amongst you were some of the precious things you missed about living in the city.
In an unsuspicious amount of time, you excused yourself from company to find the washroom. Anthony stood outside the drawing room, leaning against the wall, unblinking and mind drifting elsewhere. You ignored each other walking past, which felt a lot like tiny shards of glass embedding into your heart. Locking yourself in the washroom, trying desperately to keep tears at bay, you looked into the mirror and told yourself it did not matter. You were going to find love this year, somewhere else. 
When you opened the door, Anthony had moved, he was nearly pressed against the door, waiting for you to come out. He stuffed himself into the washroom with you, closing the door as silently as he could.
“Why are you here?” He asked. He looked different from a year ago, he had changed quite a lot more than you were expecting. He had shortened his hair and filled out into his body. His hands looked the same, the same ring on that damned finger, flexing in distress and awkward guilt.
“It is the beginning of the social season. I am here to find a husband.” You stated plainly.
“A husband?” He scoffed, charming disdain painted across his face.
“Yes, it is what young ladies do in polite society. Was that unclear?” You asked. Your lack of facial expression and tone seemed to startle him, he had no idea what you were thinking.
“Why are you acting this way?” Anthony stuttered forward, getting uncomfortably close.
With the melancholic drop of your shoulders, and a heavy exhale, you pushed past Anthony and made your way back to the drawing room. It was so like him to put the narrative back on you. Anthony should have asked himself why he was acting this way – after all, it was he who decided not to court you. It was he who decided to kiss you beside the carriage that night. It was he who decided the two of you should not speak any longer. It was he who broke your heart.
The remainder of the evening was free of Anthony, filled with laughter at the dining room table over a delectable dinner. The Bridgerton’s sense of family was everything to you – even if Gregory and Hyacinth were bickering for most of the meal, it still felt as it was meant to. Violet showed you to the guest room, it had not changed much over the years, it smelled the very same.
“I am sorry Anthony could not join us for dinner” Violet’s voice echoed with somber searching. Perhaps she had heard the two of you in the washroom?
“Do not be,” You said quickly, “His time is his own, he does not owe me anything” Violet bowed her head, words fighting against her lips. She instead pursed them into a smile and closed the door behind her. Those shards of glass moved again, every second in this house, nausea held you hostage, terrified of running into him in the halls.
Daphne was the only other person alive who knew what had happened between Anthony and yourself. She had been disappointed in him, angry with the way he had handled everything. While she promised there would never be a change to your friendship, it had never really been the same. You tossed and turned far longer than normal; your mind flooded with images of the past. Thrusting yourself out of bed, it was clear you were not going to be sleeping tonight, you decided that a distraction may be best. In your nightgown, candle in hand, you remembered your way to the study.
The study was clear of any inhabitants, it was tidy, and the few cases of books loomed high over you, reaching the ceiling. Nothing in the Bridgerton house seemed to change, except Anthony, and it was perpetually for the worse in your opinion. You selected a book randomly from the nearest shelf and perched yourself on the seat closest to the window, looking out over the square. Lounging sleepily, you read in the low candlelight, only disturbed by the creaking of the door, an unexpected sound, making you jolt.
“I knew you’d be in here” Anthony said softly, entering the room with caution as your emotionless face watched him. “You were always in here when we were children. No one could ever find you” His smile was humorless.
“You did” You waited before responding, wondering why he was here, speaking with you, “Why are you here, right now, Anthony?” You demanded.
Anthony moved to the seat across from yours, sitting gingerly, holding eye contact in the hopes you would not tell him to leave. You allowed him to sit, his hands folded in front of him.
“I don’t know” Anthony rubbed desperately at his forehead, “I just got up, and felt myself pulled here, some unknown force, dragging me to you” Anthony admitted. You had always been attracted to each other, always gravitating towards one another.
“I did not choose to come here; my mother asked a favor of yours. I would never have chosen to be this close to you. You destroyed me, Anthony” Tears welled to your eyes, “We cannot be near each other – you made that it very clear, you took what you wanted of me, and cast me aside” Hands pressed down on your knees, you pushed off, making for the closest exit. Anthony dashed around in front of you, placing his body between you and the door for the second time today.
“Goodnight, Viscount Bridgerton” You curtsied formally, hoping the rules of social engagement were enough for this man to understand the dangerous position he was putting both of you in, yet again.
Anthony’s hand trembled, reaching out, taking yours into his. His fingers tangled between yours, his grip strengthening when he realized you were not pulling away. His thumb affectionately circling the skin on wrist, the sound of his swallowing resounding across the empty room, his anxious tongue flicking over his lips. If anything was clear, it was the internal battle that seemed to be always happening inside Anthony’s mind.
His touch, the supreme legacy of your existence. His unsteady breath, captivating your common sense. The thrilling space between you slowly closing, heads bobbing forward as if intoxicated and unable to control oneself, meeting together in the middle in an exhilarating kiss, just like you had remembered it.
His lips were shamelessly enthusiastic, as if made for this very purpose, just for you. His forceful hands weaved into your loose hair, pulling you deeper into every kiss. You were overcome, that old bold, need for him to find its way out of the labyrinth you had designed for it. Anthony’s fingers pressed to your hips, his teeth nipped eagerly at the skin on your neck, softs sighs of delight followed.
It was when his hand moved sensually to your breast that you broke free of the enchanting dance you had found yourself in so many times before with him. Your body did not reflect the same pleasures, you took his hands from your body and laid them at his sides, and stood tall and stepped back.
“I am here to secure a husband, for my future” Tears found their way back to you.
“Y/n…” Anthony shook his head, stepping forward, trying to hold onto you again.
“If you cannot give me what I seek, please, stop hunting me down. I want a life with you, Anthony. I will love you until my dying breath… But you, you will never grow up” You said finitely, again, pushing your way past him and fleeing back to your room.
~
Most of the next day was spent in tired indifference, you remained in your room, preparing for the first ball of the season. Tears had stained your pillow the remainder of the night, each knock at the door struck a chord of hope in your heart, wishing for Anthony.
Eloise and Violet helped you into your gown, the ladies’ maids fixing your hair and face. Violet ran a motherly thumb under your puffy eye, her compassionate heart shining through her eyes and tender smile. You gave a little nod, knowing there was never anything you could hide from her – she knew everyone in the Bridgerton house better than she let on.
The Viscounts escorted Eloise into Lady Danbury’s estate, greeting the Queen and Lady Danbury ahead of you. Violet linked arms with you in solidarity, following Anthonys actions and proceeding into the ball.
“Who will you be accepting dances from this evening?” The Viscountess asked quietly.
“I am not restricting myself to names, I will dance with any eligible man who asks” You answered politely.
Violet gave your forearm a squeeze, “That is very sensible” She nodded, releasing you, sending you off into the lion’s den. You met up with Eloise, taking a short turn about the room to appear social, greeting the other young ladies who you’d met years previous. There were several older men who seemed to take an interest in you as you moved about the room with your friend. No one really stood out to you, no true love at first sight, much to your dismay.
Retiring to the wall with a glass of lemonade in hand, you watched the gorgeous young women excited to dance with suitors and recalled how that was never an experience you had.
Soon enough, one of the suitors who had shown interest in a season previous approached, positioning himself next to you. Lord Harlan Grahame was intelligent, considerate, and not entirely horrible to look at.
“Lord Grahame” You curtsied, a familiar smile finding its way back onto your face.
“Miss y/n, I do hope your mother and father are quite well” He remarked, having known them for many years now, he had noticed their absence.
“They are in abroad, my father has business to conduct in Greece and my mother only saw fit to tend to him during this time” You explained, “I am being hosted by the Bridgerton family. How is your family?” You asked in politeness.
“Fantastic, Mother has moved herself to the country and hopes to get yet another dog soon” He laughed, clearly happy to be free of her in his home. Laughing along with him, you spied Anthony, discreetly looking on from across the ballroom. The conversation between yourself and Lord Grahame was easy and hardly uncomfortable. He was charismatic enough that you could see yourself becoming quite fond of each other in no time at all. He made small jokes at no one’s expense, he offered refreshments frequently and complimented you in kindness. You could see and accept a perfectly happy future with the Lord.
Across the ballroom, sheer asperity brewed live in Anthonys eyes for all to see. He was known to have a temper amongst society. With a final twitch of his left eye, Anthony’s feet picked up under him, carrying him in your direction. Violet watched on, fear and embarrassment ready and willing in her chest.
“I apologise” You mumbled preemptively to Lord Grahame as Anthony arrived to interrupt your conversation.
“Miss y/n, may I have this dance?” Anthonys eyes were terrifying, filled with rage and jealousy. You paused, contemplating antagonizing him, forcing his hand, backing him into a corner. But relinquished, excusing yourself from Lord Grahames company, taking Anthony’s hand as he swept you off to the dancefloor.
You did not meet his eye, your nails dug into the skin on his hand in resentment. You said nothing to each other for the first several minutes of the dance.
“You cannot marry him” Anthony muttered in quiet, helpless indignation.
Giving him a great look of disbelief, “Who are you to tell me who I can marry? I do not answer to you, Viscount” You growled into his ear as he pulled you in tighter.
Anthony finished the dance, bowing to you, holding onto one of your hands with unbelievable force. He walked swiftly from the dance floor, conspicuously pulling you along behind him, and into a room down the hall.
“You cannot blame me for acting this way!” He yelled, “If I have to see you speak to another man this season, if I have to witness another man watch as you walk by – You have driven me to the brink of insanity” He heaved, frantic energy filling his body.
“What would you have me do? Spend my life in loneliness, a Spinster? Would that be convenient to you, Anthony?” You parried.
His hands ran through his hair stressfully, at a loss for words, unable to express himself in the way he wanted. His intention had not been to yell when he sequestered you away to this side room.
“I was fine! You left Mayfair, and I was well. Now, here you are – and God help me, I am intoxicated every second we are in the same room. Your presence is the most decadent drug, forcibly hypnotizing me. I am powerless to you” Anthonys words were like honey, carried on the end of a bee sting.
“You made your choice!” You yelled back at him, hoping the music was loud enough outside.
“I was young, y/n! I made the wrong choice!” He retorted, his words shaking, and unfiltered for the first time in a long time.
There was a second of unblinking silence between you before magnetic energy pulled you into each other, deranged nipping at each other’s lips ensued. Hands grabbed and grasped at skin and hair, trying to force your beings into one person. There was a white-hot craze that seemed to come over the both of you, and you had felt it before, a few times.
Anthony sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, biting and kissing in a spontaneous fire.
“Someone will hear” You moaned into his ear, as his teeth moved their way down your neck. Anthony did not seem to care, his mouth on your chest, fondling and sucking on your breasts, still sitting pertly in your dress. He was simply uncontrollable, his behaviour now inherently superior compared to when he had been speaking.
Anthony maneuvered your body across the room, hands comfortably held in places of control, his left on your lower back, his right splayed across your throat like the prettiest necklace. You reached the door, his hands twisting your hips to face it. Your palms met the wood, bracing as Anthony bent you slightly, kicking your feet apart with his. Anthony hiked up your gown, undoing his pants in the same instant and buried himself inside of you.
You mouth gaped silently, aghast at the entire situation, but thanking God above for the opportunity.
“Oh my god,” Anthony gnarled into your ear from behind, “Just like I remember it” He moaned, sinking deeper and deeper it felt like. Every thrust led with intense and vicious primality, his hands wrapped around each of your upper arms, for leverage. He was right, it was just how you remembered – overwhelming, devastating, unforgettable. You had thought about your secret affair with Anthony every day since you had moved away. The pleasure Anthony elicited from you sent you into a familiar haze, deep and indefensible. Every movement, every sound from him made you feel greedy, always wanting just a little more.
The way he pounded into your smaller frame rattled the wooden door you were leaning on. “Anthony! They are going to hear!” You squealed in a whisper back to him.
“Let them” He panted, “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m fucking my future wife” Anthony’s hand found its way into your hair, pulling your back sharply for a profound, wet kiss. Anthonys fingers sunk into the flesh of your hip, painfully pleasant as his nails clambered for an anchor. Your body arched back involuntarily, Anthony powering through fast, harsh thrusts as he found his inevitable end, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he slowly finished moving inside of you.
You both leaned on the door in exhaustion, bodies heaving in unison. Anthony placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, stepping backwards and rebuttoning his breeches, fixing your dress behind you. You turned to face him slowly, knowing he could very well go back on every word he had said not moments before.
The softest smile enriched his face, his eyes lit in such a way that you had never seen them. His arm dashed out, pulling you into a grinning embrace, smooching dear kisses upon your lips.
“Loving you causes me delirium, y/n” He nipped at your nose, your foreheads planted together, eyes closed in tranquility.
As you stood, the doorknob gently turned and Violet Bridgerton slid her head through the gap, assumingly checking on the both of you; you had been in here for a little while longer than societally acceptable for two young single people.
Her hand flew over her heart, “Oh thank God!” She exclaimed, smiling ear to ear, a sense of pride glistened in her eyes.
“I cannot wait to write Daphne” The viscountess cheered quietly, finding it hard to contain her excitement. “I knew that you would find each other” She chuffed, slipping out, closing the door. Your foreheads knocked together again, never having a minutes peace in such a large family – you stood there a moment longer, relishing such a long awaited and monumental confession of your love.
-------------------------------
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keerysfreckles · 2 days
Text
perfect storm — OP81
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pairing: oscar piastri x sargeant!reader
summary: oscar's small crush on his best friend's sister becomes something more after a secret is shared.
warnings: nothing too explicit but still sexual themes so 18+ (soft smut), not proofread
a/n: LECLERC FAMILY FRONT ROW IKTR!!!
masterlist !
⋆ ˚ 。 ⋆ ୨୧ ˚
"happy birthday to you!"
the birthday girl leans forward to blow out to two numbered candles on top of her cake. logan sargeant, oscar piastri and alex albon were sitting across from her on the other side of the kitchen island. logan sets his phone down after sending a recording of the boys horrendous singing to his mom.
oscar leans forward to take the candles out of the cake, while alex asks, "so how does being twenty two feel?"
y/n shrugs, licking the chocolate icing off the bottom of the candles before oscar can throw them away.
"the same as before. just another birthday," she smiles.
logan's about to add, but a phone call from the williams team manager takes him away to the living room.
"you're gonna miss the cake!" y/n exclaims, watching as oscar starts cutting it into triangles.
logan waves her off, "it'll be there when i get back."
alex, oscar and y/n are now left in the kitchen, all enjoying their own slice of cake.
"so, y/n," alex breaks the comfortable silence. "do you have any plans of going out and getting laid tonight?"
y/n pushes alex's shoulder as a blush starts forming on her cheeks, while oscar can't help but supress a laugh.
every year since she turned eighteen, alex always asked the girl if she found a special someone for her special day. and every year it was the same answer.
"no alex, and i don't plan on having a one night stand just because it's my birthday," she explains.
oscar can't help but notice the pink in y/n's face hasn't gone away. as much as he hates to admit it, he's thought about how it'd feel to be with y/n for one night. and now it might've been revealed she's never been with anyone before? oscar's thoughts were going a mile a minute.
"so what? you're just going to stay a virgin forever?"
y/n pushes alex's shoulder again, only causing him to laugh. as a chance to do anything to get rid of her growing embarrassment, she starts tidying around the kitchen.
"why don't you and oscar go at it?" he snaps his fingers, as if a lightbulb went off above his head.
y/n and oscar awkwardly look at each other before speaking at the same time.
"alex!"
"what?"
"why do i always walk in on the worst conversations?" logan comes out from the hallway, ignoring what his teammate has just asked his sister.
"well i was just-"
logan immediately cuts alex off, "nope, we have a team meeting to go to."
logan and alex both hug y/n quickly and wish her one last happy birthday. her and oscar start taking down the decorations around the living room of her apartment, both still choosing to ignore what alex asked the girl minutes prior.
"you don't have to stay you know?" y/n offers, "you've done plenty to make this birthday special."
"you sure? there's still three hours left until your birthday's officially over," he looked down to check his watch, making y/n chuckle.
she takes the paper streamers from his hands and brings them to the garbage.
"i'm sure osc."
his cheeks flush at the name. one y/n's grown accustomed to using after being around lando for so long.
she gives him a long hug before he leaves for the night, her fingers brush his back as she let's go of the australian.
"happy birthday y/n," oscar smiles, before kissing the top of her head.
she yells at him from her doorway for him to get home safe, which she receives a thumbs up in return.
however the boy she bid her goodbyes too was sitting in the parking garage, letting his car run just like his thoughts.
the way oscar thought about it, tonight was the only clear shot of telling y/n how he felt about her. he's had a crush on her since they were kids, and it only grew as he did.
the worst she can say is no, oscar thought.
well, the worst she can do is reject you. and never talk to you again.
oscar shakes his head as he thoughts become worse. he couldn't get himself out of this one. he didn't want to get himself out of this one.
he knocks on y/n's apartment door quickly, just as fast as his heart's beating in his chest.
"oh, hey osc. did you forget som-"
oscar takes one step closer, grabbing y/n's face in his hands to bring her lips to his.
he feels her hands moving to hold onto his wrists, but doesn't push him away. although he can't hear anything over the heavy beating of his heart.
only inches seperate them now, as their own heavy breaths mingle with the other.
y/n simply stands on her toes to wrap her arms around oscar's neck. he sways the pair slightly, a smile beginning to form on his face once he registered nothing's ruined between the two.
y/n turns her head, leaving light kisses along oscar's neck.
he simply closes to door behind him, letting the girl continue gliding her lips across his skin.
y/n sets her feet back on the ground, roaming her hands down oscar's arms, letting them fall in his hands. he runs his thumbs over her knuckles.
"you're not doing this just because alex said something, are you?" she let her insecurities get the best of her as she looks up at oscar.
he starts shaking his head before she can even finish the question.
"absolutely not. i want to do this, but only if you want to."
y/n nods, "i want to, trust me i definitely want to," both her and oscar laugh at her eagerness. "i'm just nervous."
oscar takes one of her hands in response and places it against his chest, a little off center.
she feels how fast his heart is beating underneath her hand. she couldn't comprehend that she was the reason.
"i think i'm more nervous than you love," both chuckle again.
y/n moves her hand from his chest towards his neck to pull him down to her, only to connect their lips again. she simply guides them out of the entryway and down the hallway towards her bedroom.
they only break the kiss so y/n can get onto her bed and for oscar to close the door.
oscar's eager to kick his shoes off, and y/n can't help but let a giggle fall between her lips. she watches as he climbs on her bed soon after, catching her lips in his again.
he maneuvers the two so y/n's now laying under him, with one hand pushing her shirt up ever so slightly while the other arm is bent by her head.
his brain becomes fuzzy as she begins running her fingers through his hair, short breathy moans slipping into y/n's mouth.
y/n arched her back as oscar's hand moved over her skin, silently begging to take her shirt off. she nods, moving slightly to make it easier for oscar.
oscar's eyes flutter down to the base of her neck. his thumb brushes over the skinny silver chain with a small bar, with the number eighty-one etched into it.
"you still have it?"
y/n nods, remembering the exact moment she opened the necklace as a birthday gift from oscar. four years later and she's never taken it off once.
"i never take it off," she admits.
oscar's at a loss for words. he's truly had her this whole time, without knowing it.
oscar suddenly comes back to his senses as y/n begins taking off his own shirt.
minutes pass. clothes are thrown on the floor as oscar's still hovered over the girl. his hand inching it's way closer to the spot he knew she needed him in.
oscar made sure to be gentle as his fingers brushed through y/n's most vulnerable area. he places light kisses on her neck and on her lips while helping her through her first high.
"i'll be careful, i promise," oscar moves to line himself up with the girl below him. her hands remain on his biceps, squeezing ever so slightly as he breaks the barrier.
just as oscar stated, he was more than gentle with y/n. he made sure to listen to her if she wanted to slow down, and whispered light praises in her ears as the bed started hitting the wall behind y/n's head.
"osc," y/n mumbles out. her back arches as he continues hitting the perfect spot.
he watches as her eyes close, and feels her fingernails digging into his arms. not caring that there will be red marks tomorrow.
oscar feels her tighten around him. if he could pay to feel that a million times, he would. it was euphoric, making him halt his movements. the pair locked eyes again as oscar helped y/n ride out her high.
oscar was quick to remove himself from the girl, finishing on her bundled up sheets off to the side of her bed.
oscar leaned forward to kiss y/n's forward, before whispering, "you did so good love."
y/n blushes for the hundreth time that night, taking in oscar's praise as she regains a regular heartbeat.
oscar kissed her lips once more before throwing on a baggy pair of sweatpants y/n told him he could have. he helped her clean herself up, sharing a few kisses in between steps.
now he stared in awe as she changed into his shirt he was wearing less than an hour ago. she held her arms out once she layed back in bed, beckoning oscar to follow her.
he rested his head against her chest, eyes closing shut when she started threading her fingers through his messy hair.
"osc?" her voice is quiet, unsure of how the boy in her arms will react to her upcoming thought.
he hums in response, but it's enough to make the girl continue.
"what are we?"
her movements pause as oscar sits up to face y/n. he brushes a hair behind her ear, "we don't have to worry about labels right now. we'll sleep, and i can even make you an amazing breakfast. then we can talk about it, yeah?"
she nods, but a smile makes its way to her lips once oscar kisses her again.
as oscar lays back down, y/n's thoughts come out again.
"we're not telling logan yet, right?"
"oh no, definitely not yet."
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iceman-soup · 2 days
Text
masc!reader × divorced!price
Knowing John Price from outside of the military - fuckin hell, knowing him from a toddlers' group of all places. You had both joined at roughly the same time, and being the only dads there rather than mums, you quickly stuck by each other, becoming fast friends since the first session.
Turns out, he'd had a shitty divorce a few years ago, and, well - his sweet baby girl got caught up in all the middle of it. She was a tiny baby at the time, but the legal stuff regarding her in the divorce was messy and Price barely managed to see her at all; and then her mother had been arrested for something or other (he didn't like to talk about it) and he had gained full custody, and arrangements were made for her to stay with his family whilst he was on deployment.
Your story was entirely different. The kid was technically your sister's - but she had died shortly after childbirth, and with no partner and an awful relationship with your parents, the two of you had agreed beforehand that if anything happened, you would become the baby's legal carer. But you'd called the boy yours after only a few months, and that's all you ever introduced him as now. Your son.
The toddler group wasn't great for either you nor Price, to be honest. The kids loved the playtime, which was good - but the parent "teachings" that the leader held were mostly encouraging weird outdated shit that wasn't worth listening to, let alone enforcing. Not to mention the constant repetition of how a single parent is a "bad" parent, which you scoffed at every time. Good thing about it was how you and John could sit at one of your houses after and shit talk it over a coffee.
Was he hot? Sure. Yes. Absolutely. It was the very first thing you noticed about him. But more than that you were genuinely grateful to have a friend; another single dad to lean on, to finally start talking about your sister's death and all the guilt you felt with your son. Someone who would actually get it.
Price started to come around to yours almost every day, even when the toddlers' group was only once a week. He insisted it was nicer than his flat, and the kids had more space to play anyway. You never minded. He took you over to his parents' house, introducing you to them. They were quick to befriend you and your child, mentioning how you should visit John's daughter there when he's on deployment.
Deployment. Forgot about that.
You laugh and nod, thanking them before you leave. You take your son to a play park and sit on a bench, watching him and just thinking. It doesn't take long til you realise you're thinking less about your friend being all captain-y and more about his smile you've come to adore being wiped from his face. About him coming home and there being more scars on his hands and arms than before. 'Cause you fucking counted. Realising he might not come home at all.
You go to his flat the next day, awkward small talk as the kids go off to play. He can tell something's up. He asks if it was his parents. Fucking apologises as if he did something wrong. You sit him down on the sofa, and rest your head on his shoulder.
"Dunno what to do," you start, eyes flickering shut when he combs a comforting hand through your hair. "You're such a great man, John. Dunno what I'd do if you went."
He looks at you for a moment; you can feel his gaze. Tilts your chin up with a calloused finger and brushes his lips against yours. It takes a second or two to process what's happening - and then you're kissing him again, his jacket balled up in your fists as you hold him closer, suddenly realise this is what it was all along. The hot, slightly traumatised dad had tripped you up and you fell fuckin hard.
All too quickly and you're lowering him down against the sofa, and his hands are on your back, and your tongue is prodding impatiently at his lip. Then he opens his mouth and you almost seem to melt into it, a soft groan in his throat, and you're lying on top of him, and his legs are around your waist-
"I'm not complaining," you hum between kisses, "but how is making out gonna help?"
He breaks apart. Looks at you with a sort of dog-like curiosity, mulling over the question for a second. Then his hands snake up to rest in your hair, and he smiles his signature smile. "Don't know. Just thought I wanted to kiss you. Won't fix me goin' on deployment, but-" he glances away, a flush creeping up his neck, "thought... thought you might be somethin' to come back to, y'know?"
You chuckle quietly, pressing your lips to his blush. "You askin' me out, John?" He kisses you tenderly, shuffling to sit up a little, pulling you onto his lap facing him.
"If you'll take me."
And you don't even have to think about it. "'Course I will."
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woso-dreamzzz · 10 hours
Text
Injured (Jenni's Version): Future
Grace Clinton x Reader
Summary: You need to leave
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"Mami! Mami! Mami!"
You smile slightly, continuing to pack your suitcase as your son lays back on your bed.
"Yes, my James?"
He grins at you. "Can I come?"
You shake your head. "You know you can't."
"But why?"
"Because Paris is a long way away from Lyon." You add another set of pointe shoes to your bag. "And I need you to do a very special job for me."
You sit down on the bed, patting the spot next to you.
James is more than happy to crawl towards you, leaning close to hear his special job.
"You're a very responsible boy, aren't you?"
He nods. "I helped Mummy pick up Ollie's poo yesterday on our walk!"
Ollie's your family dog. Grace had gotten him for you when the first two rounds of ivf didn't take and you'd been so down about it. You were right in the middle of your third round and losing hope when Grace had come home with a German Shepherd puppy.
You called Ollie your good luck charm because two weeks after you'd successfully potty trained him, you fell pregnant with your other golden boy, James.
"That's very responsible!" You tell him," Because I need a very responsible boy to help me out."
"I'm responsible! I'm responsible! What is it?"
"I need you to be in charge of the house while I'm gone," You tell him," That's why you can't come with. You've got to make sure Mummy doesn't order takeout every day and cleans up Olivia's toys when she's done playing."
Olivia's the other light of your life, your nearly one year old daughter.
You didn't particularly want to leave either of them but you'd been called up by the Paris Opera Ballet to be their guest Principal for one of the shows they were putting on and you loved dancing in their venue.
Originally, you were going to say no but Grace pushed you to accept. She was more than capable of looking after both of the kids at once.
"I'll make sure Mummy eats healthy and cleans up!" James tells you," Can I go tell her I'm in charge while you're gone?"
"I'm sure she would love that."
James goes bursting out of the room and you take the time to finish packing.
Ollie whines a little as you zip up the bag.
"I'm sorry, Ollie," You say, gently stroking his head," You know I'll back soon."
Ollie's the family dog, technically, but, secretly, you know he's yours. He had been incredibly protective over you when you were pregnant with Livy and he had been super excitable as a puppy when you were pregnant with James.
Fully grown now, he loved being in the same room as you. He adored the kids and Grace, of course, but you had always been his person.
Frankly, you were getting a little worried he was lonely in the house alone all day so you and Grace had been in talks about getting Ollie his own puppy.
It was only fair to Olivia as well.
Ollie grew up with James. It's only right to have a puppy for Olivia to grow up with too.
But, that was a conversation for when you got back and after your planned trip to Spain in the summer.
It would be nice, you think, to have a puppy for Ollie to be the best big brother too just like how James is the best big brother to Livy.
Ollie follows you down the stairs, his favourite tennis ball in his mouth as you start pulling your suitcase down.
Grace appears at the bottom, hurrying up to swap the bag with Livy and carry it the down for you.
"Careful, beautiful," She says as you swap," You don't want to strain anything before you go on stage." She winks at you and you roll your eyes.
"Did James tell you I've left him in charge?"
"He did," Grace replies with a grin," I think he's already planning on demanding Big Bed access."
"Don't let him," You remind her but your wife just shrugs.
"I don't know. He's making a convincing case. Says that it would be cold without you and he should be there to warm it up."
"If you get him in the habit of sleeping in our bed while I'm away, Grace Clinton, then you're in trouble and I'm choosing what breed the next puppy is."
"Oh, come on!" Grace is laughing though so you know she isn't taking your empty threats too seriously. "Cab's here though. You finished up just in time."
"Okay." You pull on your coat surprisingly well for someone balancing a baby in the other arm.
You litter kisses all over Livy's face as Grace calls James to the door.
"I'll miss you, Mami," He tells you and you crouch down to give him kisses too.
"I'll miss you too, James," You say," I love you, baby."
"Love you too."
He curls into your arms and your rock him side to side softly before pulling away.
"Remember, you're in charge, okay? So I want you to boss around Mummy and make her eat healthy, deal?"
He nods. "Deal."
"I'll see you in a week, amor," You tell Grace, pecking her lips a few times and laughing when she tries to chase your kiss each time.
"Love you, beautiful."
"Love you too."
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jelluf1sh · 2 days
Text
౨ৎ incl. husband! higuruma + lots of fluff!!
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he thinks for a second that he may be dreaming.
it’s possible. he could still be at work, hunched over asleep at his desk, the ache in his back and his neck keeping him on the border betweeen actual rest and a quick but uncomfortable nap. but he pinches himself and warrants a faint sting, so he’s definitely awake.
now confirmed that this is real, nerves set in quick, spreading like wildfire throughout his body and rendering him near-immobile and — for the first time since he can remember — scared. he's genuinely scared. hiromi approaches his wife’s hospital bed like he's a bull and you’re made of porcelain, completely disregarding his mussed tie and the gentle beading of sweat on his forehead.
he looks down at you with the most loving eyes, stubborn traces of fear and uncertainty lingering in them, swirled into his dark pupils like creamer in black coffee. he’s so in love, but so afraid.
against his wife’s chest is their crying daughter. his baby girl.
“look who it is!” you mutter happily, tired lines seeping into the smile hiromi so adores as you swirling the small tufts of hair on top of your baby’s head between gentle fingers. “look, d/n, it’s daddy.” you gesture him closer to the bed, a faint giggle on your lips. “she’s not gonna bite you.”
“are you sure i can hold her?” he doesn't know what to do with something so tiny. something so loud. he rushed here with the sole intention of seeing his wife. he watched you give birth, and he told himself he was ready, but now that it’s happened, he’s terrified. when you nod with that familiar warmth in your face, he leans down to kiss your forehead, then your cheek. then he worries, “what if i drop her on accident?”
you smile at his unease, trying to hand him the baby. “just make sure her head is supported; you won’t drop her.”
after a second, he reaches his arms out for the newborn, and the minute they make contact, he swears all the stress leaves his body. he feels connected to her forever from this point on, an invisible tether rooted deep in their hearts and wrapping around one another. he holds the tiny head of his daughter in his palm — “she’s so small,” you hear him mumble and watch his eyebrows elevate when he discovers that her entire head fits in his hand — and cradles the rest of her in the crook of his elbow, tucking his other arm under her for good measure. you smile despite the fatigue, your heart melting into goo at the sight of your little family, complete. there’s a sticky sweetness about it, a content air to watching them: like nurturing a flower garden and watching it bloom.
“heyyy… hey, d/n,” he mumbles, trying to rock the fussing baby in his arms, the sound of her crying and the sight of her scrunched-up face already breaking his heart. “it’s daddy.” god, did that taste so sweet on his tongue. “daddy’s here… shh. don’t cry, princess, ‘m here.”
higuruma’s pulse thrums in his ears, watching the baby’s gum-mouthed cries turn to whimpers, then soft little coos as big black eyes meet the matching set of his own, and immediately he makes it his duty to thumb her tears away.
he loves her.
“hi, my baby,” your husband whispers, nuzzling into her soft, supple cheeks with his large nose to kiss her, his heart swelling so big he was afraid it would pop out of him when her hands patted at his face, exploring the soft skin of his jaw and the apples of his own cheeks while her legs kicked (giving him a slight heart attack, thinking she’d wriggle out of his arms and onto the floor somehow) curiously. you notice (and smile) when his eyes so obviously gloss over with tears at the surrealism of the moment — that this was his daughter. this was the living, breathing, essence of him and his wife’s love.
the spring in which he’d married you was the same spring that he began to see the little things for what they were. higuruma had always had a sort of fast pace about him.
but now he hopes time will slow down, stretch like the thick pour of molasses. he wants to milk this life for all it's worth.
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nataliasquote · 2 days
Text
Double the trouble | Yelena’s day | n romanoff
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Double the trouble AU
Summary: it’s finally Yelena’s turn to babysit the twins… a big responsibility for a usually messy Russian.
Age: 4
Warnings: none
wc: 4.3k
note: Double the trouble is back! The twins are back, and so is the cuteness. Sorry for making you wait so long!
-⧗-
“Mama’s got to go, Y/n.”
“Mama go, Y/n go!”
Why was she even arguing with a four year old at this point? Natasha was crouched by the front door, her work purse resting against her calf as she held onto a whiny four year who was pouting hard.
“Aunty Yelena is coming today, you’re going to have so much fun!” Despite how animated her voice was, Y/n was not impressed and she pushed herself further into Natasha’s arms, grabbing the collar of her suit jacket in her little fists. “Come on baby, please.”
“No!” Great. She was still in the ‘no’ phase, much to the moms’ disdain. “No Lena, only you!”
Natasha sighed and stood back up, absentmindedly smoothing over her daughter’s curls as she looked over to the kitchen. Yelena was going to be there any minute and Wanda was packing the last few snack items into her purse whilst Isla showed her a drawing she’d done for her favourite aunt. She was a lot more accepting of extended family members and had been babbling about Yelena’s visit for weeks… until Y/n threw a barbie at her head.
With a sigh, Natasha hauled Y/n up to sit on her hip and wandered into the kitchen with a soft smile at her wife who looked so gracious in her red summer dress.
“Any word from Yelena?” She asked, holding Y/n tight. “This one isn’t too happy we’re leaving.”
Wanda approached the pair and kissed her daughter’s head, laughing a little at her scowl. “Should be any minute now, I hope,” she replied. “Do you girls want a snack?”
“Fruit roll ups?” Y/n was now suddenly interested, her head lifting from the comfort of Natasha’s shoulder. Ever food orientated, she was.
“I want fruit roll ups too!” Isla chimed in, finally putting her markers down as she added the finishing touches to her drawing. “Strawberry one?”
“I’m sure I can manage that,” Wanda said as she turned around from the cupboard, two snacks in hand. Y/n wriggled out of Natasha’s grip and ran over, but not before Wanda instructed her to sit at the table like normal. Snacks were never eaten standing up in their house, it was the paranoid mothers’ number one rule.
Natasha checked her watch anxiously, watching her time slip away as she waited for her sister. Punctuality wasn’t Yelena’s strong suit, but as the clock struck ten, there was a loud knock at the door and Natasha was pulling it open before the twins could even react.
“Where are my munchkins?” The loud blonde announced, tossing her bag by the door and completely ignoring Natasha as she stepped inside. But the redhead was used to people bypassing her and Wanda to get to the twins, she knew how gorgeous her daughters were.
“Hello to you too… again,” Natasha muttered, more to herself than her sister who was too busy trying to call the twins as if they were dogs.
Isla was the first to greet her favourite aunt, her arms and legs flailing as she launched her small body at the blonde Russian, giggling as she was caught and spun around. Y/n was still chewing away at her snack but she watched their interaction from her seat, shaking her head at Wanda’s offer to go and see.
Y/n was bubbly until she was around anyone who wasn't her moms. Then she clammed up, often ducking behind her curls to avoid eye contact or hiding behind Natasha’s legs if she was close by. She didn’t trust anywhere near as easily as Isla did and was always the last one to approach.
“Y/n? Doesn’t Aunty Lena get a hug?”
Y/n’s eyes darted between her Mama and her Aunt, debating hard. With some reluctance, she slid off her chair and wandered over to Yelena, but only for Natasha’s benefit. The last thing she wanted was her Mama getting mad at her over not cooperating… again.
“What are you eating?” Yelena asked, gesturing to the small piece of food still clutched in the young girl’s hand.
“We had fruit roll ups!” Isla exclaimed, grinning widely at Yelena’s animated expression.
“No way!” Even Y/n was smiling now, waving her snack up at Yelena. “I loved them as a kid!”
Natasha smiled fondly at the scene in front of her. She knew how much Isla loved Yelena, she babbled on enough as it is, and she also knew of Y/n’s hesitancy. But seeing her now, almost completely out of her shell, talking over the top of her sister in an attempt to hold Yelena’s attention, Natasha felt pride blooming in her chest and she wished to capture this moment forever.
Wanda appeared at her side, her smile mirroring her wife’s as she took her hand. “Ready to go?”
Natasha nodded and squared her shoulders in her fitted suit jacket. “Yelena, we’re going to be late. Do you have everything you need? We’ll be back at 6, there’s lunch in the fridge, all you need to do is heat it up. And don’t let Y/n run too much because she has her heart check up next week- oh and Isla can’t have raspberries because she’s allergic so don’t-“
“Yes yes,” Yelena waved her off, effectively pushing her sister out of the door. “You worry too much, we’ll be fine, won’t we girls?” Isla cheered and Y/n copied, luckily too engrossed with her sister to notice her moms were leaving.
“If anything happens, I mean anything, call me and we’ll be back as soon as we can.” Natasha was a typical worried mother and she hated leaving her girls alone, even if they were in the questionably capable hands of Yelena.
“Nat, honey, they’re going to be okay,�� Wanda tried to reassure, rubbing her hand up and down her wife’s arm. “It’s only a few hours and you need this deal to go through. You deserve it baby.”
Natasha bit her lip, watching the twins who were running around chasing each other in the hallway. She so desperately wanted to stay with them as much as she could before they started kindergarten, but her business in the city was for a deal with a bank that would allow her to open up her very own dance studio, as opposed to the small rented rooms she was currently using. It was her dream and she couldn’t give it up now.
“I know, I know,” the redhead muttered, more to convince herself than anyone else. With a final smile from Wanda, the couple disappeared down the driveway and used the twins’ moment of distraction to make a tear-free getaway.
“Right, rascal 1, rascal 2, who wants to go to the park?” Yelena clapped her hands together as the door shut and the girls halted in their steps.
“Me! I got the wiggles!” They chorused.
“Well we need to get those wiggles out, don’t we!”
Yelena inspected their outfits and quickly concluded that their matching dungarees was an appropriate park choice. She would never admit it to Natasha, but she’d been reading books and online articles ever since Natasha asked her to babysit. Making a good impression was the one thing the blonde wanted so desperately, and she was determined to make sure everything went right.
After tying both pairs of converse to two sets of small feet and retying one of the pigtails in Isla’s hair, Yelena checked her backpack for her supplies and they were ready to go. It was an indescribable feeling to have her nieces clutching her hands as they walked down the street and Yelena finally understood how her sister had such a hard time leaving her daughters.
Isla babbled away for the whole ten minute walk, mainly talking about Fanny and how she wished she was here with them. Y/n listened happily, more than content just fiddling with the rings on her aunt’s fingers as they stopped at a crossing. It had been a month since they’d last spent time with their aunt and almost a year since their first meeting, and Y/n had definitely warmed up to her in that time. Which gave Yelena immense pride and huge bragging rights.
The sun really had chosen the right day to shine and Yelena made sure both girls were lathered in sunscreen before she allowed them to run free, laughing as they both made a beeline for the swing. Isla climbed up on the horse shaped seat just beside the swing set easily, her giggles echoing through the park as it began to move.
Y/n didn’t have quite the same luck. She couldn’t quite reach the swing she wanted and turned back to Yelena with a pout, her hands grabbing at the plastic.
“Hold on malyshka, I’m coming.” The blonde ran over and scooped up her youngest niece, tickling her stomach a little before slotting her legs in the holes of the swing. Y/n’s pout disappeared as quickly as it appeared and she chanted ‘higher’ as Yelena gently pushed her.
Yelena didn’t let her go too high, but she watched as Y/n stretched her legs out in front of her and lifted her arms, almost as if she was flying.
“L’Isla look!” She yelled at her sister. “I’m flying! I’m a birdie!”
Isla looked for a moment but was far too invested in her own activities to care too much, so Y/n just kept shouting for Yelena to push her higher, to which her aunt obeyed.
They were content on the swings for a while until Y/n got distracted by the slide. Yelena was grateful to give her arms a break, even though she’d have pushed her nieces for hours if they’d have asked. Taking a seat on the bench beside the slide, she watched as the energetic four year olds ran around and slid down the slide, wriggling the whole way down.
It was adorable the way they played together, often hand in hand as they circled the giant wooden structure. Isla always climbed up first before helping her sister up the last section, taking her ‘big’ sister duties very seriously.
“Aunty Lena, watch!” Y/n yelled, holding onto the red handle by the little slide as she tapped her feet together. “I’m gonna go fast!”
“I’m watching, little bug, go on.”
Y/n let go and slid down, stopping at the bottom with a grin as Yelena clapped. She raced over, breathing hard, and grabbed her little water bottle to take a sip.
“That was very impressive,” Yelena said, taking the bottle from Y/n when she was done. “Look, let’s watch Isla now.” She put her arms around Y/n’s stomach and held her in place as they watched Isla slide down before she too came running over, asking for her water.
“Have you both been practising your slides?” Isla nodded between sips.
“Mommy takes us to the park after pre-k.”
“And she gets us ice cream.” Y/n flashed a cheesy grin, trying to win over Yelena even more than she already had.
“Well, if we see the ice cream truck, then maybe.” A chorus of ‘yay’s sounded and Yelena felt like the coolest aunt on the planet. It didn’t matter that the girls already loved her to pieces, every time they smiled at her it thawed her heart and she was sure that one day she would be charged with kidnapping for stealing them both. If she barely coped with them now, prom night and graduation would hit her like a truck.
“Can we go play again?” Y/n asked, bouncing on her toes like she was eager to run off. Yelena gave them the all clear and she sprinted away with Isla yelling her name as they approached the climbing frame. Y/n scrambled up the smaller side and whizzed down the slide before Isla could stop her.
“Y/n!” Isla yelled, running back over to her sister who was sat at the bottom of the slide. “You can’t run!” She tapped her sister’s chest where her heart was before taking her hand and dragging her back to the steps. “Slowly. Mommy always says slowly.”
“I just want to play,” she huffed, placing her palm on her chest. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll tell Mommy!” Isla didn’t really understand what she was supposed to tell Wanda, but the threat was enough and Y/n walked away scowling to find the sand pit. It was slightly sludgy from the rain a few days ago so she wandered around the park again before going back to Isla and giving her a hug.
“You play on the bridge with me?”
“Only if I get to be the pirate!”
“I’ll be mermaid.”
Yelena watched from her spot on the bench, her phone resting in her hand as she filmed the girls playing. The park was relatively empty, only three other children were playing. But they looked older than the twins and so kept to themselves, which the blonde was grateful for. She wasn’t all that trusting of other people’s kids.
There was something relaxing about watching them play. It took her mind off everything else and every time the girls flashed her a smile she felt herself soften. Her sister really had won the family lottery and she felt so grateful to be an established part of their lives as they grew up. Swearing off having kids forever, this was the only way Yelena would purposefully interact with children and she was totally okay with that. The best thing about her nieces was that she could spoil them as much as she wanted and then let her sister deal with the inevitable sugar rush that followed.
An hour went by before Y/n and Isla trudged over once more, significantly more dishevelled than they were before. Long gone were the pigtails, their curls now wild about their shoulders, the colour almost matching their rosy cheeks.
“Did you have fun?”
“I think I got a rock in my shoe,” Y/n whined, standing on one leg like a flamingo. Isla went to sit on the bench as Yelena sorted out Y/n’s shoe, shaking the pieces of gravel that were stuck to her sock. “Ice cream?”
“I don’t think the ice cream truck is here, malyshka,” Yelena admitted, her heart breaking at their disappointed faces. “But we can get some at home, how does that sound?”
“I don’t want to go home!” Isla pouted, folding her arms in a little tantrum. Y/n copied her, leaning against Yelena as she stood between her legs. “Want to stay here forever!”
“Are you guys not hungry? All that running around, I’m sure your bellies are grumbling at you.” To prove her point, she tickled Y/n’s stomach, mainly to hear more of the adorable giggles she loved so much.
After some reluctance and agreement that cookies will be provided with lunch, they made the slow walk home. Y/n was dragging her feet, begging to be carried despite Yelena saying no. She couldn’t carry both of them, even if it was evident how tired Y/n was.
To brighten their mood, she started singing an old Russian song, making everyone march in time with her singing as they turned down the final street. The twins had no idea what she was singing about but their spirits were lifted and they marched happily, swinging their arms and nodding their heads as best as they could.
A quick clean up was needed as they got back home to wash away the park germs, but with soap bubbles and a mini water fight, Yelena managed to make even the most mundane activities interesting. She distracted the twins with some colouring pages whilst she located and heated up the pasta dish that Wanda had left in the fridge, instructions written on a bright yellow post it note.
The mothers really had thought of everything, which made the Blonde’s job ten times easier as she sectioned the food onto the twin’s trays. Pink and orange, just the way they preferred it.
With two tired out toddlers seated at the table, hands washed and lunch served, a quietness descended on the house as they tucked in and Yelena allowed herself a moment to breathe. Natasha and Wanda must be superpowered, she thought to herself, because doing this everyday must be exhausting. She couldn’t wait for a nap.
But when was Yelena’s life this idyllic for long? It certainly didn’t last and the blonde had just finished her pasta before she heard the sniffles beginning. Isla looked happy enough, but the same couldn’t be said for the red-eyed and teary girl beside her.
“Y/n what’s wrong?” Yelena asked, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Do you not like it?”
“I want Mama,” she spluttered, her bottom lip trembling as tears rolled down her cheeks. She brought her fists up to wipe her eyes but it didn’t stop them much. “I want Mama!”
“Oh malyshka, she’ll be back soon, I promise.” But Yelena’s words did little to comfort the young girl. “Do you want to eat a little bit more?” Her plate was hardly touched, only a few pieces of cucumber and pasta gone from her portion.
Whilst her sister cried, Isla looked at her own empty plate and back at Y/n’s, the little cogs in her head turning. Having such empathetic mothers had rubbed off on her and she looked at the little chocolate chip cookie sitting on the dessert section of her plate for a second.
“Y/n/n, do you want my cookie?” She grabbed it and pushed it towards her sister who stopped sniffling for a second to nod, taking the treat even if she had her own on her plate.
Yelena had to stop herself aweing out loud and she pulled her phone out as quickly as she videoed as much of the interaction as she could for Natasha and Wanda.
“That was kind of you Isla, well done.”
“She’s just noisy,” Isla answered back, her lips curling up in disgust that looked quite comical. Clearly she hadn’t changed and her sister crying was still just as annoying.
Yelena stifled her laugh and stood up to grab another cookie to replace Isla’s lost one. Her attitude at four years old was a clear indicator that Wanda and Natasha were going to have their work cut out as she grew up, especially combined with her ‘older sister complex’.
Y/n had eaten half of the cookie, the distraction working, before she quickly realised why she was crying in the first place. She locked eyes with Yelena and let the tears fall once more, wanting nothing more than a hug as her active morning caught up with her.
“Y/n it’s okay, it’s okay,” she tried to comfort once more, rounding the table to give the young girl a cuddle. “Why don’t we all go and find a movie to watch, hm?
“Mermaids?” Y/n asked between sobs, holding on tight to Yelena’s t shirt as she was lifted into her arms.
“Isla, do you want to watch The Little Mermaid?” The girl nodded, hopping down off her chair and running into the living room.
“Come on, big girl, let’s go get comfy and you can have all the cuddles you need, yeah?” Y/n sobbed into Yelena’s neck and held on tighter, more like a koala than a child. But Yelena never refused hugs from her nieces, not whilst they were still young and small enough to want to spend hours on her lap.
Isla had dug through the dvd shelf, leaving a mess on the floor, to find the most worn case holding their current favourite film. She passed it to Yelena and jumped onto the couch, sitting beside Y/n who was holding the corner of the soft blanket to her chest with a frown.
“Don’t be sad, we can see Sebastian! And Ariel.” Isla suddenly gasped, turning to her aunt crouched by the dvd player. “Aunty Lena!”
“Yes, lenya?” (Sunshine).
“Ariel has hair like me and Y/n/n! Does that mean we’re princesses?”
Yelena smiled to herself and settled on the couch between the two girls, Y/n immediately crawling onto her lap as Isla snuggled into her side.
“Of course you’re both princesses. What does that make me?”
“The evil queen,” Y/n mumbled, giggling as Yelena gasped dramatically. The opening credits of the Disney movie sounded in the background but no one paid attention as the twins erupted into laughter over Yelena’s expression.
“The evil queen? What!”
“Yes!” Isla squealed. “Evil queen!”
“Your mama didn’t tell me you both are little terrors!” She exclaimed, grabbing Isla by the foot so she couldn’t wriggle away. “I can’t believe you!”
“I didn’t say it!” Isla tried to defend herself, but Yelena was having none of it. “Please, Aunty Lena please!”
Yelena let go of her foot and turned Y/n around so she was facing her on her knee. “Okay then, what about Mama? Is she a princess?”
“Mama always a princess!”
“Okay,” Yelena said, wondering how her sister would take anyone but her daughter calling her a princess. “Is Mommy a princess too?”
Isla nodded frantically. “Yeah! We all princesses!”
“But Aunty Yelena isn’t?” She faked an offended expression, sending Y/n into another giggle fit. Which was a lot better than the tears that had dried on her cheeks.
“No you’re the evil queen!”
“Or S’bastian!”
Yelena paused, tapping her fingers on her chin in thought. “So… a singing crab, or a witch? That’s all I get?” The twins both nodded before Y/n stood on the couch and leaned to Yelena’s ear.
“S’bastian is my favourite,” she murmured before flopping back onto Yelena’s lap, her arms leaning on her chest. Yelena felt her heart clench, why were these kids so goddamn cute?
Only thirty minutes into the film, Isla had stretched herself out along the couch so Yelena wrapped both arms around Y/n whose head was flopping to the side as she tried to fight the sleep. But the combination of hearing Disney songs and feeling Yelena stroking her stomach had her falling asleep in a matter of minutes. Isla was watching, but barely. They really had tired themselves out for today, which made Yelena’s job a lot easier.
The jingle of keys in the door woke Yelena from her accidental nap and her heart shot to her stomach momentarily before she realised both twins were still asleep safe and sound. With Y/n’s dead weight sprawled out across her chest, she could do nothing but wait for Natasha to find her, the overplayed soundtrack of the title page luring the attentive mothers towards the living room.
Natasha had her suit jacket hanging over her arm and her white button up shirt was unbuttoned slightly lower than normal, but she still looked professional in her black slacks. Yelena craned her neck over the back of the couch and pressed a finger to her lips, gesturing to the sleeping redheads surrounding her.
“What did you do to them?” Wanda whispered as both women rounded the front of the couch. “They’re flat out.”
Natasha crouched down by Isla and studied her face momentarily before looking at Yelena with a small laugh. “I’ve never seen them so tired. What happened?”
“I let them run out their wiggles in the park,” she began, careful to not disturb Y/n. “And then we had a little meltdown so Isla picked a movie.”
“She got upset?” Wanda asked, concern lacing her tone. It wasn’t like her to get upset at all, which set alarm bells ringing in the mothers’ heads.
But Yelena quickly clarified that Y/n was the one with the tears, to which both mothers looked less concerned about.
“She just kept asking for her Mama, but that’s probably down to tiredness, right?”
Natasha narrowed her eyes at her sister, slightly unnerved at the calmness that she radiated. Yelena was not a calm or collected person, so this was a weird sight.
“Who are you and what have you done to my sister?”
The blonde rolled her eyes. “Shut up. I just did my research, that’s all.”
Natasha went to tease her about it but Y/n shifted on Yelena’s lap, the voices disturbing her sleep. She rubbed her eyes softly before blinking them open and almost launching herself at Wanda with a squeal.
“Home! You’re home!” She squeezed Wanda tight in a hug, the woman melting into her daughter’s embrace as she held her close. There was something so special about welcome home hugs and Natasha didn’t feel left out as Isla woke up only seconds later and attacked her Mama with cuddles.
“Oh my big girls, we missed you!” Natasha peppered Isla’s face in kisses, having missed the way she squirmed in her arms. “Did you have a good day?”
“The best day! I love Aunty Lena!” Isla jumped back onto the couch and hugged Yelena tight, allowing Y/n a moment to shuffle over to Natasha and completely lean against her. Nothing would ever beat her Mama’s hugs. Ever.
“I missed you, babygirl. Are you okay now?”
“Missed you too Mama.”
Natasha stood up and brought Y/n up with her, holding her tightly on her hip as she stretched her legs. She smiled at the familiar feeling of her daughter fiddling with the necklace that lay on her collarbones - she always gravitated towards jewellery.
“You’re staying the night, right Lena?” Natasha clarified, watching Isla’s face light up as her aunt said yes.
“More Aunty Lena time!”
“I think it’s safe to say you’ve won them over,” Wanda added, shaking her head with a smile. She didn't mind what it was, as long as her girls were happy, she was too.
And no one was injured after Yelena’s first babysitting adventure, so there would be many more to follow.
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lukesaprince · 8 hours
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Rich Part 22
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Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. Y/n meets Anne, her Dad finds out the truth and an unexpected encounter has devastating results.
Warning: Smut, bj (the beginning of one anyway), penetration, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk. Mentions of revenge p*rn, Ethan, bad mental health. There is also a detailed account of a panic attack and negative thinking so please be mindful of this. PLEASE lmk if I've missed anything ❤️
Word count: 21k+
Author's note: Look I'll always say I'm an angst writer not an angst reader so I hope you guys enjoy reading a bit of it... At this point Rich won't be finishing up at Part 25 as expected because I just don't think I'll fit everything I want to within three more chapters so you're welcome I guess. ANYWAY happy reading muah
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- Find my General Masterlist here -
“Okay… y’ready?” Harry asked, bopping his knee anxiously. 
“I’m ready.” You confirmed, smiling. 
You totally weren’t ready. 
This was the first meet-the-parents thing you had ever done in your life and you were fucking terrified. You didn’t want to come across as too immature or young but you also wanted to be yourself. Compared to Harry you were young and even if you had things in common, you were as Gen Z as they came and the last thing you wanted was Anne thinking you were some kid. 
From what Harry told you, Anne wasn’t a judgmental person. She was a sweetheart and seemed so gentle and kind. Like your mum but without the hint of crazy. He did say Anne liked a good glass of wine, which both you and your mum enjoyed as well so that was one thing you had in common. 
You were definitely overthinking it way too hard but Harry being nervous made you nervous. You just wanted her to like you. It was a lot harder meeting her for the first time via Facetime too because there wasn’t really a lot of external stimuli to chat about if things got quiet. You weren’t sharing a meal or doing an activity where the conversation could drift naturally. This all felt so formal.
Harry assured you that he’d jump in at any point it got quiet but that he didn’t think he’d need to because Anne loved to talk about anything and everything. That made you feel a bit better but you still felt like your inside matched how Harry looked on the outside. Anxious.
You didn’t really want to make it worse by talking about your own nerves, especially since Harry had been talking about it all damn day. He kept bringing it up through text and called you double what he usually did while he was at work. He was trying to appear calm and in every conversation he was making sure you were still okay with meeting his mum. 
You knew that it was because he was nervous about it. Harry was practically losing sleep over it and he didn’t really understand why. He didn’t expect to be so nervous about it, especially since he wasn’t phased by your parents knowing about you two. 
He just loved you so much, so fucking much, and you were one of the most important people in his life. The most important. His mum was one of the other important people and maybe that’s why he was all in knots about it. 
His mum’s opinion on you mattered a great deal to him and even if it wouldn’t change how he felt about you, or whether he continued seeing you, it still mattered. She is the closest family member he has and he wants you two to get along more than anything else. 
Deep down, all along all Harry ever wanted was a family. Maybe not the kids and nuclear family model, but family. He could play it off and think that meaningless hookups and money could satisfy him for the rest of his life and for a while it did. It truly did. But meeting you changed everything and now all he wanted was his family together. 
He wanted a life with friends that he loved, a partner he adored who adored him back and he wanted his family back together again. Harry had two out of three of those things and now his family was the last thing he needed to tackle. 
Harry knew Anne would love you because he loved you, but he was still riddled with anxiety. The cause was more than just this initial FaceTime of course, but this was one of the many things he was having a hard time dealing with. He felt blessed that he had you to support him through everything. 
You placed a gentle hand on his knee, applying a little pressure so it would stop shaking. “Are you ready?” 
Harry nodded, grabbing your chin affectionately, “yeah, m’love. Just haven’t introduced many partners to her before. Not that any of them were nearly as important as you.”
Not that any of them were as important as you. 
Oh did you fucking love this man. 
“I hope she likes me” you whispered, puckering your lips against his thumb when he brushed it against your mouth.  
“She will.” He assured you while smiling fondly. “What’s not to like, baby?” 
“thank you…” you whispered, pecking him quickly. “I love you.”
“Love you.” He murmured, wanting to say so much more only to be interrupted by the ringing sound of his laptop. It was far easier to do FaceTime with both of you on the bigger screen and this way you wouldn’t be as squished up. 
You quickly adjusted your hair over your shoulders so it laid nicely, trying not to bite away the lipgloss you applied specifically for this call. You wanted to look nice to meet Anne for the first time, even if it was via FaceTime. 
The screen lit up with Anne’s gorgeous face and smile when Harry answered the call. His hand fell to your thigh immediately, reaching for your hand to intertwine your fingers together. 
“Hi mum.” Harry greeted with a bright smile. His entire demeanor lit up when he saw her and you could visibly feel his body relax a little. You had never seen Harry interact with any family before so it was just so… nice to watch. You felt warm inside even after two words. 
“Harry! Oh my gosh, your beard. It’s so lush. You look wonderful.” Anne beamed, her face bright and so warm. You had seen photos of her before, even stalked her Instagram a little to see what vibe she gave off and she was even lovelier than usual. 
“Thanks,” Harry sheepishly responded, stroking the stubble on his jaw. He didn’t grow it out very often, at least not to the length it had gone now. It was only when he was on holiday usually. But you liked his moustache and the feeling of his facial hair between your thighs so he was more than happy to give you what you wanted. Harry liked the look too, he just preferred being cleanly shaved for work. 
You were obviously more important than his job. 
“And you must be y/n! Oh, you’re gorgeous.” She cooed, looking right at you, “She’s gorgeous, H.” Her eyes flicked to Harry. 
“I know. Absolutely breathtaking” Harry brought your intertwined fingers to his mouth and kissed the back of your hand before setting it back down on your knee. 
“Thank you.” You blushed, “it’s so nice to meet you, Anne. Harry’s told me so much about you.” You squeezed Harry’s hand, feeling like you were in some sort of job interview. You were lost for words and so nervous. You couldn’t relax even if you wanted to. 
“Oh, I’m sure he has, darling.” She laughed. It was so warm and homely, much like Harry’s. “He’s such a storyteller, aren’t you, H? Always has been y’know, even as a kid. He used to dress up and perform plays for Gem and me. Oh, he was so cute!”
“Mum.” Harry scolded. Of course, it barely took a minute before she spoke about his childhood. He knew if you were all in her kitchen she’d have the photo albums out before you even arrived. 
“Oh shush, you. Don’t pretend you didn’t love it. He was such a little actor. A good singer too.” Anne replied, happy to be sharing stories about her son with an actual girlfriend of his. 
“Yeah he is,” you agreed, “He always leads our singing in the car.” You finished off with a giggle.
“I do not.” Harry defended.
“You so do! He always leads, Anne. Always.” You laughed, earning
“That’s not true, I sing plenty thank you very much.” Harry defended, knowing you were just riling him up when in fact your car singalongs were some of his favourite moments and a regular occurrence when you were out and about.
“Mhmm. Sure.” You teased, earning a pinch on your thigh in reprimand.  
“We’ve got one of those little karaoke machines here, y/n, and every Christmas Harry used to do a singalong with all the kids. He said it was because they loved it but we all knew it was because he did.” Anne smiled fondly at the memory, but you could feel the sudden shift in the air at the mention of Christmas. Something Harry hadn’t been to for years. “Anyway, that was a while ago…” she brushed off, but you could feel the way Harry was tensed against you. “Harry tells me you’re studying? Marketing, right?” 
“Yeah,” you confirmed, giving Harry’s hand a comforting squeeze. 
He wrapped his arm around your waist to hold onto you and intertwined your fingers with his other hand. It immediately made him calm down again. He wasn’t usually so sensitive but with so much going on and the possibility of him actually being at his family’s Christmas this year, it hit him a little harder than usual. It wasn’t Anne’s intention at all and Harry knew that, but it was hard to think about the years he missed. 
“I’m doing a double bachelor's degree in marketing and arts. It’s my final year so I’ve only got one semester left and then I’m free. Finally.” You finished with a nervous laugh. 
“Oh wow, that’s amazing  You must be so proud of your achievements,” She gushed like she was proud of you and it was the first time she had ever met you. Her energy was so kind and warm, exactly how Harry described. “I remember from Harry how hard it can be to be in university. All that study and stress. You’re working as well, aren’t you?” 
“Um thank you,” You tucked your hair behind your ear, feeling a little shy at her sudden praise. “And I am, yeah. I’m working at a cafe on campus a couple days a week, sometimes more depending on my workload. It can be a lot sometimes but I’m trying to make the most out of it. I’ve made really good friends and we all live close by or have classes together so I want to have as much fun as I can before it’s all over. It’s crazy how fast it’s gone already.”
“Well from what Harry’s told me, you’re smart and very capable. I’m sure you’ll do great.” She replied earnestly, “do you have plans for after graduation?”
“I’m not 100% sure yet, actually. I always had this idea of going straight into work and if I find something I’m interested in I’ll definitely go for it but I don't know… I don’t think I’m in a rush to get there. I’d like to travel for a bit, maybe take some time to figure out what I want to do. I’d like to do my masters eventually as well so I’m not sure if I want to do that before going into full-time work or work a bit then do it. I’ll see how I go, really.” you smiled sheepishly, looking at Harry briefly. His entire focus was on you and he was squeezing your waist and hand encourgagingly. “For now I just want to get good results.”
“She’s incredibly smart and talented,” Harry complimented, kissing your temple lovingly. You blushed at the show of affection, especially in front of his mum. You loved it, you really did, it was just so unfamiliar to be so open in front of family. You two hadn’t even seen your mum together yet. “Whatever she does, she’ll be amazing at.”
“I’m sure you will be, y/n.” Anne echoed, feeling her own heart burst with how affectionate Harry was being with you. She had never seen him like this with anyone before. Not since he was a young boy anyway. 
“Thank you…” You whispered, smiling up at him. His gaze was so loving and so sincere. It was like you were his entire universe. You were getting way too flustered and at this point, you still hadn’t asked Anne any questions. You wanted the attention off yourself already. “And what about you, Anne? Harry told me you write children’s novels?”
“And illustrate.” She proudly added, “Oh it’s my passion…”
The phone call lasted a good hour. It was just a natural back-and-forth conversation between you all that felt so comfortable and so homely. After you finally relaxed and Harry did as well, it was easy to enjoy talking to her. Anne was so lovely and so sweet and funny, you already loved her. Archie of course got some limelight and you were able to show pictures of your family and friends and share so many details about your life.
It was only the first meeting and you felt like you were connecting well with her already. Even though Harry said he’d jump in if it got quiet, it just never did. You two were as chatty as anything and Harry barely got to speak unless he was directly addressed. It was wonderful. Anne never made your age seem like it was an issue, though you could tell she was surprised when you told her exactly how old you were. 
Harry told her more about you after you agreed to meet her and showed her photos of you and all that, but at that point, you realised that he never specified how old you were. You thought he would’ve been completely honest about your age gap and for the most part, he must’ve been, but it was a little surprising to see that look on her face.
It was only fleeting and if you didn’t see her surprised reaction, you would’ve never known because her attitude didn’t change. She seemed genuine in every way, but you hoped that she didn’t have any ill feelings towards you because of your age. It would’ve been understandable of course, especially considering your mum’s reaction to Harry, but you really liked her already and you wanted her to like you back.
“Alright mum, I’ll talk to you soon.” Harry bid his goodbye.
“Bye, darling. It was so nice meeting you too, y/n. Hopefully, it isn’t too long before I get to see you in person.” Anne waved into the camera, blowing you two a kiss through the screen.
“Hopefully not.” You smiled while waving back to her “Bye, Anne.”
The screen turned black once the call ended, leaving you two (and Archie) alone again. “So… how do you think it went?” You asked after a moment of silence. 
He grinned and cupped your face with both hands to look at you, “how do I think it went? Baby, you two didn’t stop talking the entire hour. I think it went perfectly.”
“Really?” You whispered, pecking his mouth before pulling back just enough so your noses were brushing together. “You think she liked me? She seemed so surprised when I told her how old I am.” 
Harry nodded, “I think she loved you. I told you she would.”
“I hope so because I loved her. She was so sweet.”
“She’ll love you saying that.” Harry grinned, humming before kissing you once more. He closed his eyes while pulling away, “mmh. I love you for saying that. I love you anyway, but even more now that you love my mum.” 
“And here I thought you couldn’t get more obsessed with me. All it took was impressing your mother and you’re kissing me and-”
Funny enough, it was a kiss paired with a firm hand around your throat that interrupted your words. The kiss changed from a smooth brush of your lips to something that had you whimpering and gasping for air in a matter of seconds. “I am obsessed with you.” He murmured, pulling away just enough to say the words before he kissed you again. You smiled into it and gripped his hair in a firm tug. 
“Can I… can I say something that might make you more obsessed with me?” You offered, panting a little while letting your hand fall to his thigh to give it a firm squeeze.  
“Impossible but I’m listening?” He grinned, leaning back against the couch. He grabbed onto your waist and pulled you towards him, hooking his hand under your knee to drag you across his lap so you were straddling him. It wasn’t meant to be sexual necessarily, just because he wanted you as close as possible. 
His arms wrapped around you as soon as you were settled and he was happy to slide them under your-well his nice knit jumper you stole for the call. It didn’t seem necessary to put a bra on when you two were just spending time at home today and only your shoulders up would be shown in the call. He was able to feel the entire expanse of your bare back and how soft your skin was. It was driving him mad. 
“I’ve been thinking… about London.” You swallowed thickly, a little nervous about the conversation you were about to have, “About Italy…” 
It was hard to communicate properly when his hands were rubbing all over your back and sides, his fingers even grazing the sides of your breasts for a moment before returning backwards. You had been thinking about the trip intensely over the last couple of days since he first brought it up to you and all the pros and cons of going. 
Your main concern was his family, but it wasn’t just that. When you two spoke about it, it was before your mum knew and there was so much uncertainty surrounding your parents. You knew you wouldn’t have been able to go on the trip without telling them about it and you couldn’t exactly do that without telling them the truth. Now that your mum knew and was happy for you… it kind of felt like that situation wasn’t a reason not to go on the trip anymore.
University was another concern but Harry was right in saying that the trip would barely overlap with your classes. Your semester ended just over a week before the trip, as did your assignments. You only had two exams and they were both luckily early on in the timetable, like even your university wanted you to go on this trip. They didn’t leave you much space for when Harry wanted to leave, barely a few days but you could manage. 
As for money… Harry already offered to cover everything… multiple times. You knew that if you did end up going it was non-negotiable for him to foot the bill as he simply wouldn’t have it any other way and while the thought kind of mortified you, you also knew he only offered because he genuinely wanted to do it. Besides, even if Harry offered to pay for it all, you still wanted to have your own money and realistically… you did. With how Harry paid you for months while you dog sat for him, you had really healthy savings and while most of it was reserved for actual living and your trip at the end of the year, you could afford to spend some of it. 
There were more reasons to go than not to go and you hoped that the concerns you did have could just be talked about. 
“Yeah? What about it?” Harry scratched your back lightly, making goosebumps rise all over your skin until you shivered against him. 
“Would you… would you still want me to go? If I could?” 
“You want to come? Seriously?” His eyes widened in glee and he perked up instantly. 
You laughed softly while playing with the curls at the back of his head, “I do and I can make it work with school it’s just… are you sure it’s not too soon? To… y’know, see your house and your childhood town and for us to spend an entire month together? We’ve only been together a couple of months. What if you get sick of me?”
“I’d never get sick of you.” He defended with a soft smile, hugging you close to him. “I want you to come more than anything, baby. Truly. It would make me so happy.”
“And what about your family? I want to support you and I’m happy to be there for you but I don’t want to overstep and I don’t want to… I don’t know, like, take away anything from your healing. I still think this is something you should do by yourself.”
“I understand what you’re saying, y/n and I get it.” His hands settled to your lower back in a loose hold while he maintained eye contact with you, “This is something I’ve been afraid of for years and I know I need to face it by myself but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you meeting anyone.” He flashed a soft smile, wrapping his arms properly around you. He hugged you against him, loving the feeling of having you close to him during a conversation like this. “Sure, Gem’s birthday might be off the table because who knows how that’s going to go, but I’d still love for you to meet my mum and… whoever else would be willing. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back, but I’d like to think you’d be received with open arms.”
Truthfully, Harry didn’t know what to expect from his visit home. He kept in contact with some of his closest cousins and friends, but there were still those who never really forgave him for what he did to Gemma. He wasn’t sure if they’d come around after the effort he was about to put into trying to mend that relationship, but they were all loving and earnest people. Harry hoped they’d be willing to forgive him. 
He was trying not to get too hopeful though. 
“Even if I’m not… received with open arms, I’d understand it.” You replied softly. “I just don’t want to be one of the reasons your family doesn’t want to give you a chance, that’s all.”
If this situation was reversed and your family member was coming to visit to try and mend things, only to bring his very new and young girlfriend along with him, you’d be hesitant for sure. It was why you had no expectations to meet anyone or attend any family reunions. You were very prepared to be spending days alone and exploring the city while Harry reconnected with everyone. You had always wanted to solo travel so you actually hoped you’d be able to spend some days just walking around by yourself. 
“Y/n… my sweet, sweet girl, you won’t be.” He assured, bringing his hands from under your jumper to cup your face. “There may be a chance they’re not very receptive to me, but that’ll be with or without you there…” He smiled lovingly, running his thumbs over your cheeks. His touch was an instant calm and you found yourself leaning into it heavily. “Look, I understand if you may feel a little awkward so I won’t push you to do anything, but if things are going well I don't see why you couldn’t meet everyone. I know my mum would want to have you over for dinner. Not sure if you’ll be able to get out of that. ”
You laughed softly at his comment and leaned forward to kiss him. “I’d love to meet your mum.” You declared softly, kissing him again. “Okay…” You whispered while pulling away, “I’m in.”
“Yeah?” He grinned.
“Yeah.” You echoed, nodding before squealing when Harry suddenly scooped you up from the couch. 
“How ‘bout we celebrate then, hm?” He mused, kissing you between words as he very quickly made his way upstairs. You laughed a little but agreed nonetheless, kissing him as much as possible until you were lying down on his bed. 
Archie had followed you upstairs with a toy in his mouth, tail wagging like you were all about to play a game until Harry quickly uttered those three words that made Archie whine like a sad puppy dog. “Harry, he’s crying.” You pouted, looking around Harry’s legs to make eye contact with the sad little boy. 
“He’ll be fine.” Harry laughed, “go on, Arch, go downstairs.” 
After another huff, Archie trotted off with his toy in his mouth, allowing Harry to close the bedroom door and leave you two alone. He turned back to face you, eyes dark and full of promise of what he was about to do to you. You couldn’t have been more excited. 
“I can’t believe we’re finally christening your bed.” You teased, pushing your sweatpants down your legs until they got caught around your ankles. Harry was quick to help you and pulled them off the rest of the way.
“Mhmm. It’s been way too long, baby… Still want to get my box of toys out, though. I’ve got a paddle and pink rope with your name on it.” He smirked, dumping your sweatpants onto the floor before pulling off his hoodie and shirt in one go. 
“When I sleep over. Please, when I sleep over…” you murmured, sitting up so Harry could pull your-his knit jumper off to join the growing pile on the floor. He quickly shoved his pants off before settling between your thighs and joining your mouths in a messy heated kiss. 
You’d never get sick of kissing him, not when it felt like an explosion in your belly and a tingling all over your body. Just a single peck had you completely swooning and you’d happily make out with him for hours without doing anything else.
Though knowing you two… it always turned into something else. Something more. 
“Baby there’s so many things I need to do to you. Just need time and privacy so I can make you scream as loud as I fucking want.” His words were low and rumbly, partly disappearing into the seam of your mouth because he just couldn’t part from your lips long enough to get a full sentence out. The fact that he used ‘need’ instead of ‘want’ drove you up the fucking wall and you were suddenly more desperate than ever to touch him.
“I’d do anything for that… anything…” You gasped, digging your fingers into his shoulders. His body was so big and heavy over you and you could already feel how hard he was pressed against you. Long and thick and all yours. Sometimes you had to pinch yourself when you thought about being with someone like Harry. 
“Mmh, I know you would.” He hummed, beginning to kiss along your jaw down to your neck. “Bet you’d beg for it too, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes…” You nodded breathlessly, pulling his mouth back to yours by cupping his jaw in both hands. With a little hook of your neck and a very clear ‘lay down’ mumbled into Harry’s mouth, he let you turn your bodies so he was against the bed and you were straddling him. 
“I love seeing you like this” Harry murmured, watching you adjust so you were kneeling between his legs instead of sitting on top of him. You smiled at the compliment and ran your hands over his chest, digging your nails into his skin ever so slightly so he groaned and squeezed your waist.
“I love seeing you like this” You replied, leaning down to press a kiss to the middle of his chest. “I love kissing you…” you continued, peppering kisses all over his chest and down to his abs, “...kissing your body, your tattoos…” 
Harry sighed above you, sliding his hand through your hair to sweep it across to one shoulder so it wasn’t covering your face. Every gentle touch of your lips against him had his entire body clenching with need. He knew you could feel it too. 
You took your time running your mouth and tongue over his body, tracing his tattoos and the contours of his muscles. There was just something so fucking sexy about having full access to him like this, of being able to touch and kiss wherever you liked. And you had time, you could take as much time in kissing him and touching him and making him cum in your mouth.
As far as your parents knew, you were out with Lucy for the night. You weren’t particularly sure if your mum believed your lie when you walked out the door after dropping your things off, but you didn’t really pay too much attention to it when your call with Anne was on your mind. There was a change in your schedule this week which allowed you to sleep at your childhood home midweek for once and you took it immediately. Being away from home was harder than ever now that you and Harry were seeing each other and you were getting a bit homesick. 
You loved living by yourself, but you missed the moments you used to have with your parents. Your nightly Netflix binges with your mum and cooking with your dad. It was why you loved to come home and why you tried to spend as much time here as possible. Now that Harry was in the picture… well your homesickness was for him as well as your family.
It always got bad towards the end of the semester too and you were feeling it extra hard this time. You were run down and tired and pushed to your absolute limit and all you wanted to do was go home and be a kid again. Nowadays all you wanted was to curl into Harry’s arms and forget all your responsibilities existed. 
Oh… and you absolutely wanted to do this…
“Especially love these ones…” you continued, kissing over his right fern tattoo before pressing your tongue flat against the leaves. “And biting here…” licking a trail up to his hip, you very happily bit down on the spot right above his waistband before starting to work on making a small hickey there. 
“Shit…” Harry breathed, clenching his jaw. His fingers tightened in your hair, trying to control every cell in his body that wanted to take control of the situation. Your teasing was torturous and his cock was so goddamn sore he didn’t think he’d even be able to last a full minute once you got your mouth on him. At least he hoped that’s where this was going. However, he really did not care as long as you were just touching him in some capacity.
“Wanna know what I really love, though?” You asked, looking directly up at him while tucking your fingers into the waistband of his tight briefs. His cock was pressing angrily against the soft material and all you wanted to do was get your mouth on it. 
“What’s that?”
“Tasting your cock…” you reached down and licked along his length through his underwear, loving the way his filthy moan echoed around the room. “Can I? Please…”
“Fuck… of course you can.” Harry swallowed thickly, almost trembling when you found his tip and sucked ever so gently on it. “Shit baby… take me out.”
Right as you were about to free his cock and finally taste him, the sound of Harry’s doorbell echoed outside his bedroom door. He had an intercom system upstairs and in his kitchen so the sound was always loudest in those two areas. Archie’s barking followed the ringing soon after and you could hear the distinct sound of him jumping around near the front door.
“Who the fuck would be here right now?” Harry cursed, rubbing his hand over his face. 
“Just ignore it. We’re busy.” You shrugged, licking him through his briefs again. You were a big fan of ignoring the door and your phone when you didn’t want to speak with someone but if there was one thing you noticed about your parents and well… Harry’s generation was that they were incapable of putting their phone on silent. 
Harry shuddered and hissed at your hot tongue against his cock and soon the door was the last thing on his mind. “You’re right… you’re right. For the love of god, please continue baby.” He practically pleaded, almost coming at the dazed-doe expression you had on your face. It looked like you were almost enjoying this more than him. Almost. 
You got back to it and kissed along his skin as you pulled his boxers down, following the waistband with your mouth until your lips brushed against the very base of him. His fingers tightened in your hair the further down his length you got until you had licked a trail from his base right to his tip. 
But then the doorbell rang again, just as you were about to pull his underwear completely down his thighs. 
“Fuck. This better be fucking important” Harry cursed again, reluctantly letting go of your hair. You made a noise of indignation and pulled his boxers back up for him before making space so he could get up from the bed. You flopped onto your back, looking at him with straight annoyance at the fact he was taking his cock away from you. “I’ll be right back, y/n. Right back.” He promised, reaching down to peck your mouth. “I’m just going to see who it is, okay?” 
All Harry had to do was walk a little down his hallway where the intercom was and he could speak to whoever was at the gate. He could do it from his phone too but he left that downstairs and there was no way he was walking all the way down there with a sore cock just to turn away whoever was trying to sell him something. 
“Hurry upppp.” You complained, already impatient with him leaving you. 
“Just be patient, y/n.” Harry tutted, trying not to show how dizzy he was by how eager you were to suck him off. You could give him head every day or once a month and he’d be as eager and grateful for it every single time. There was just something about enthusiastic head that drove Harry up the fucking wall. 
Harry adjusted his cock in his boxers before pressing the video button to see who was at his gate and when the clear image popped up, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Uhh… y/n?”
“Yeah?” you called back, staring up at the ceiling while clenching and unclenching the duvet in your hands to try and distract yourself from how horny you were.
“It’s your mum.”
“What!?” You shot up from the bed immediately, looking at him wide-eyed. “What the hell is she doing here?” 
It was an immediate cause of panic for the two of you, like you were two teenagers being caught having sex after your parents came home too early. But neither of you were teenagers and you were in the privacy of your own home. Well, Harry’s home.
“I don’t know! What do I do?” Even Harry was panicking, mostly at the loss of his time with you but also because he had no idea what your mum wanted. As bad as it was, he hadn’t spoken to her properly since she found out about you two. He hadn’t seen her due to his work schedule and he didn’t really feel right going over for a cup of tea to talk about your relationship without you being present. 
“Just answer it, I don’t know!?”
“Okay… shit. Okay.” Harry cleared his throat before pressing the call button to speak to your mum, “Hi Mary, everything alright?”
“Is my daughter in there?” 
You pressed your hands to your face and groaned into them, already recognising the slight tinge of drunkenness in her voice. Even through the intercom, you could identify the one, potentially one and a half glasses of wine she had. 
“I know she’s there, Harry, so I suggest you let me in so we can all chat.” Mary continued.
Harry looked back at you and took his finger off the button, giving you a look that basically asked, ‘so what should I do?’. 
“Well we don’t exactly have a choice, do we? I can’t lie to her again.” 
“I’ll be right down, Mary.”
Barely two minutes later you were opening the front door and letting your mum into Harry’s house. It was possibly the weirdest situation you had ever been in and you didn’t have the slightest idea why she'd be here.
“Mum, what are you doing here? You can’t just show up like this!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms when her eyes landed on Harry’s knit sweater. Both of you were in a severe rush to get your clothes back on and you opted to greet her so he’d have a little more time to sort himself out. He was as hard as anything upstairs and there was no way he was coming back down without trying to get rid of it. 
“I can and I will. You lied to me, y/n. I thought telling me about you two was so you wouldn’t lie.”
“I couldn’t exactly openly say that I’m spending the afternoon with Harry, could I? You’re being so weird about us still and Dad doesn’t even know.”
“That’s why I’m here. I can’t keep it a secret anymore! You know how dad is, every time he flashes those puppy eyes or makes me dinner I’m ready to spill everything. He knows I’m hiding something. You two need to tell him and-” she stopped herself abruptly, “where even is Harry? This is for all of us to talk about not just you and me. He hasn’t even come to talk to me too, by the way. Just so you know.”
“I apologise for that,” Harry interjected, making himself known as he walked down the stairs to join you two. He seemed settled enough and far more nonchalant than you were. You still felt and probably looked all flushed and nervous. 
It wasn’t every day your mum interrupted you about to give your boyfriend a fucking blowjob. Hiding where you were was for that exact reason. Because she simply couldn’t deal with you two being alone in his house yet and you knew it. 
“I haven’t seen you since y/n told me you knew and I felt it was important for all of us to discuss it together. I wasn’t avoiding you by any means, Mary.” He flashed that smooth buttery smile as he stood beside you, resting his hand on your lower back. “Should I put the kettle on? Or would you rather have a nice glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?”
You had never been more grateful for Harry’s effortless ability to charm women. In a second your mum went from alarmed and ready to tell Harry off to calm and pliant. Part of you fucking hated it, the other was glad she wasn’t giving you that panicked look anymore. 
Barely five minutes later all three of you were sitting on Harry’s dining table with wines in hand. The atmosphere felt like something you had to fight your way through just to breathe. It was awkward and a little tense, something you hoped it wouldn’t be after your mum gave her support to your relationship. But she was clearly upset that he hadn’t spoken to her. 
It was understandable to a degree but at the same time, if Harry was a boy your age she wouldn’t want to grill him so fucking hard. She’d probably call your relationship cute and sweet and ask questions about his family and any siblings. 
Instead, she was asking him the same questions she asked you already, trying to watch with her own eyes whether Harry was earnest and truthful about his affection for you. The wine she drank drove her questions, none thankfully which were about your sex life. She had no problems asking Harry if he worried about dying at 70 and leaving you young at 50 years old, though, which wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have. 
“Mum. Seriously, what are these questions? If he was my age would you ask that?” You scolded, getting a headache. She had no ill intentions of course and she only wanted the best for you, but the way she was grilling Harry was killing you. 
“I want to know if he’s seriously thought about it, y/n. That’s all.” Mum defended. “Have you thought about it?”
Truthfully, until she asked the question the thought had never crossed your mind. Now, you were definitely going to think about it. 
“It’s okay, y/n. She’s just worried as any mother should be.” Harry tried to assure you, bringing your intertwined fingers to his mouth to kiss the back of your hand. He hid it well, but even Harry was taken aback by her questioning and it took a lot to surprise him. He flashed a calm smile before turning to your mum, “I think about our future every day, Mary, and I don’t take it lightly. I just want to make y/n happy. That’s all I want. If I give her 2 years, 5 years, 40 years of happiness I’ll be happy.” 
The thought of that made you giddy. Not the idea of your relationship being limited to two years, but knowing that this could be the rest of your life. 
“Hm.” Your mum responded, sipping her wine. “Okay, well I know where you live so any problems and I know where to find you.” 
“Yes, you do.” Harry chuckled, resting his arm on the back of your chair. His fingers found your hair and he fiddled with it in his fingers. It was hard for either of you to forget what was so rudely interrupted earlier. 
Your mum’s eyes drifted to his fingers playing with your hair and you could see the soften of fondness drift in her expression. All she wanted was to make sure you were okay and happy and while her grilling may have annoyed you, you knew it was because she loved you and nothing else. Harry wasn’t a twenty-something-year-old, he was 17 years older than you so your mum had every right to make sure he was treating you well. Especially since you were neighbours for years. 
“Well I’m happy,” Mum finished off her glass and stood up from the table, “now you two are coming for dinner. I’ll give you half an hour and you better make sure you look more put together than you do now.” 
“Mum-” you tried to interject, standing abruptly from the table as well. 
“No. You need to tell your dad. I can’t keep this a secret any longer and neither should you two.” She looked at Harry briefly, but you both knew that this whole situation fell on your shoulders. 
You looked down at Harry who was already looking up at you. He nodded gently, reading the question from your one look. Standing up, he squeezed your shoulder before letting his hand fall to your waist. 
“We’ll be there. It’ll be nice to finally have everything out in the open.” He squeezed your waist, trying to ease some of the anxiety clawing its way up your throat. You nodded and pressed your hand to his lower back, fisting his hoodie. 
“We’ll see you then, mum.” 
Neither you nor Harry could relax once she left. There was no going back to what was interrupted so all you could do was go back upstairs to clean up a little better, which really was just brushing your hair and Harry changing into something a little nicer. You were going to stay in his jumper and your sweats because it was the only clothes you had, but Harry wasn’t one to show up in a sweat set for dinner with your parents, especially when it was such a heavy evening. 
You just hoped that your dad wasn’t going to explode. That he’d have a reaction calm enough that you’d be able to discuss it all without anyone yelling. Your dad was kind and generous and he loved you more than anything, but he was also protective. Fiercely protective. The first time you were hurt by a boy as a young teen he almost went to that boy's house to confront him and it wasn’t to have a chat. 
Him and Harry were… friendly but not exceptionally close. You always found it a little odd that Harry never wanted to become friends with anyone in the neighbourhood, even when he had common interests with them. Both Harry and your dad liked golf and soccer and yet they never did more than a casual chat over the fence or at a barbecue Harry only attended once in a blue moon. 
Now… you were grateful for the distance Harry kept because it meant their relationship was pleasant but not close enough for there to be some sort of loyalty. There was no betrayal for dating someone a bit younger than your parents. No sides where your dad could feel offended for you dating a friend of his. 
Still, there was no prediction of what his reaction would be. 
“Mum, dad! We’re here!” You called through the house as you both walked towards the living area. Harry held your hand tightly, walking closely beside you until you entered kitchen. Once you were in view of your parents he let go of your hand as per what you two agreed. You wanted to settle into dinner before you said anything to your dad, so for now you had to act like you just went over to visit him and your mum extended the invitation for dinner. 
“Hey pumpkin,” Dad greeted immediately, leaving his pot on the stove unattended while he approached you immediately for a hug. “How are you? Missed you.” He squeezed. 
“‘M good. Tired. How was work?” You hugged him back, smiling at the feeling of him kissing the top of your head while he released you from the hug. 
“Same old, P.” He shrugged, squeezing your shoulder before moving onto Harry. “Harry, mate. How are you? ” Tim greeted with a wide grin, extending his hand for Harry to shake until they went into one of those quick bro hugs. “Glad you could join us!”
“‘Course, thank you so much for having me.” Harry smiled back.
Dad was as happy as anything with Harry being present, especially after Harry offered one of the more expensive wine bottles from his collection as a gift. They got into immediate conversation while Dad got back to cooking and Harry joined him. He offered his help and wound up pouring Mum and you a glass of that expensive wine each. Your mum definitely didn’t need it, but you sure as hell did.
It was such a nice domestic scene to watch. The way Harry so effortlessly conversed with your parents and made himself at home in your kitchen to help out was fucking sexy, that’s what it was. Your mum and you were able to just sit at the island bench and watch while your partners did all the work, which is exactly how it was when it was just you and Harry. Of course, only three of you in the room knew the truth, but even so, there was no akwardness or tension in the air.
You were sure that would change once your dad found out, but your mum was as happy as anything and she did know. It was like the conversation you had barely an hour ago settled all the nerves in her stomach. That or she was in her happy place watching dad cook so having Harry easily join into that arrangement made it easier for her to like him.
“Maybe I am a fan of Harry because not only do I get to look at one, but two very sexy men in the kitchen.” Mum whispered to you before exploding in a fit of drunk giggles. You gasped but joined her in her laughter, happy that she was able to joke and relax… even if it was a little weird for her to call your boyfriend sexy.
“What are you two giggling about?” Harry mused, sipping his wine through a smile while looking directly at you.
“It’s better if you don’t know, mate. My wife has a habit of objectifying men.” Dad joked, turning around with the pot of gnocchi to serve it into the bowls Harry got out for him. 
“I do not! That’s slander. Defamation.” Mum defended. 
“Well, I’m flattered.” Harry laughed while grabbing the bottle of wine to offer a refill, “Y/n, would you like some more?”
Truthfully it was hard for you to concentrate on anything being said because if there was one thing your mother did get right, it was that Harry was a sexy man. You had never felt the loss of your interruption more than now. His navy sweater was pushed up to his elbows and he had one hand pressed to the bench while the held the bottle in the other. All you could focus on was his tattooed forearm and the veins in his hand. He was ringless as you two were relaxing after he got home from work and there wasn’t much point putting them back on when he wanted his knuckles deep inside you at some point during the night. 
The absence of his rings did nothing to diminish his attractiveness though because somehow the missing pieces allowed your eyes to focus on his veins instead. The way they made his arm look stronger and his fingers longer… how they tensed and protruded when he gripped your thigh or your throat. All you could fucking think about was him wrapping that same veiny hand around his cock to guide it to your mouth or pussy. 
Jesus…
“y/n?” 
“Hm?” You blinked, suddenly coming back into focus, “Oh, um yeah. Yes please.” 
You sat a little taller and slid your glass towards Harry, finding a cheeky fucking smirk on his face. He said nothing, but you could read everything in his expression. Harry pressed his tongue against his cheek while pouring your wine, focused on the way you bit down on your bottom lip. It was an anxious habit you had since before you two even became friends and was one of the first things he noticed about you that drove him crazy.
Now all he wanted to do was reach against the bench and tug your lip free to correct the behaviour. Seeing you be so enthusiastic at the mention of rope and toys had him going fucking crazy and now it was all he could think about. Having you bent over against his bed while he spanked you or spread wide and tied up for him so he could overstimulate you with a vibrator. 
He was fucked. His cock was still sore as he couldn’t exactly nut one out with your mum downstairs and his mind was dizzy just at the sight of you sitting there all cozy in his sweater. You were makeup free and flushed from wine and it was one of his favourite sights. He loved you in anything really, or nothing at all, but being in your kitchen with your parents and cooking together and enjoying wine like it was a normal occurrence stirred something in him.
It stroked that box inside of him that yearned for a family. The box you had cracked open and kept open just by being you.
“Thank you.” You whispered, suddenly aching for his touch. You just wanted to cuddle into him or hold his hand or anything. 
“You’re welcome, love.” He smiled, moving onto your mum. 
“Alright, dinner’s served. Pumpkin would you mind taking these to the table?” Dad motioned to the bowl of freshly grated parmesan and the salt and pepper shakers. You nodded and grabbed the items, tucking the shakers under your arm so you could carry your wine over to the table at the same time.
Soon Dad and Harry brought the bowls of gnocchi over to the table and you were all happily chatting away. Your mum made a very strategic play of ensuring Harry sat beside you, which was quite easy when she clung to your dad like they just started dating. 
Their affection was one thing you always admired about them. Even after all this time they still hugged and kissed and showed those quiet displays of affection. A peck on the cheek or holding her chair out before she even had an opportunity to sit down in it. Cracking pepper over her food without even needing to be asked because he knew she liked it. A hand on the small of her back and him carrying her shopping bags like the thought of her lifting a single finger even in an activity she enjoyed was torturous.
It was why you found the small gestures Harry did so much more gratifying than any big ones. The every day little things he did, possibly without even thinking about them that just made you feel special and important. His good morning texts and check-ins to ask if you had eaten or drank water, which you always forgot to do in your heavy study grinds. The daily goodnight phone calls where he asked about your day, which yeah sure, bare minimum, but he just treated you like you were the most important thing on the planet. 
It was why you were so head over heels in love with him.
“Dad, I have to tell you something.” You didn’t mean to blurt it out, really. Not in the middle of everyone enjoying their gnocchi anyway but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to talk about it after dinner so if anything went pear shaped at the very least your food wasn’t ruined, but the more you thought about it the more anxious you got and you didn’t want to put it off any longer. 
“Okay…” Dad’s eyes flicked to Harry briefly and you could see the look of concern flash in his eyes. “Everything okay, y/n?”
“Yes. Yes everythings fine I just…” This time it was your turn to look at Harry, whose gaze was soft and adoring. He immediately stopped eating to gave his full attention to you and found your fingers underneath the table for support. “I’m seeing someone.”
Your dad’s eyes widened in surprise and he was quick to look at your mum, “Oh wow. Wow. Did you know about this?” 
She nodded, “Yes. Not for long though.”
“Okay… shit, okay. First boyfriend, I hope. Unless you hid another relationship from me?” His tone was light and you just coughed out an uneasy laugh in response.
“Nope. First one, Dad.”
Harry tried to hide his amusement by rubbing his spare hand over his mouth. He made brief eye contact with Mary across the table who shared a similar expression. Hers was also laced with stress, but she flashed him a smile anyway.
“Well that’s fantastic.” Dad declared, spooning another scoop of his gnocchi into his mouth. “Who is he? Do I know him?...” He spoke between chews, “Is he that boy from your birthday last year? Y’know the one I didn’t like?”
“Um no not him, but you do know him. He’s really kind and funny… even plays golf like you do.” You chuckled at the way your dad’s eyes seemed to light up at that information. The entire time you spoke Harry kept his hand in yours and smoothed his thumb over the back of your hand. “He’s sweet and has a dog-”
“You love dogs.” Dad pointed out, to which you nodded with a smile.
“I do. He treats me really well and… well, I’m really happy with him Dad. Really happy.” 
“That’s all I want for you, pumpkin, you know that.” Dad smiled at you fondly, sipping his wine. “So who is he, then? Better not be one of my boys.” He referred to his company, hoping it wasn’t one of the idiots he had working for him. They were good on the tools but for the most part had no fucking idea how to treat a woman. His daughter especially.
“It’s Harry.” 
You just had to say it. You had built up his character in hopes to make a smooth introduction, but all that happened when you brought your intertwined fingers up onto the table was dead fucking silence. The mood disappeared instantly and a whirlwind of emotions circulated in the air. Dad didn’t say anything, Harry didn’t say anything, no one said anything. 
“Dad?” You swallowed thickly after what felt like an eternity of silence, watching his eyes flick between your face, Harry’s face then your held hands on the table.
“You’re lying. This is a joke right?” Dad laughed, suddenly standing from the table. “This is just some stupid joke for tiktak or facebook or whatever, right?”
“No… Dad, it’s not a trick. I’m not lying to you.” You stood from the table, pressing your hands to the top of it to keep you steady. His immediate reaction freaked you out and you weren’t sure where it was going to go from here.
“Y/n, he’s double your age. Are you serious!?” He snapped, jaw clenched.
“I am. I am serious.”
“And you knew about this?” His head whipped to your mum, “You knew she was dating him and let it happen?” Mum didn’t get a chance to respond before he was looking back at you, eyes showing just how hurt and angry he was about your relationship. “Y/n. My office.  Now.”
He had never spoken down at you like that before. Even as a child your dad was always gentle and corrected behavior rather than yelled to tell you off. He always heard you out, always. When you wanted to move away for school he was so damn against it because he thought it was a waste when there were good schools, even better ones closer by. But he listened to you and your reasoning. 
He hadn’t even given you an opportunity to reason with him yet. 
“No.” You shook your head, watching his eyes widen in surprise at your clear disagreement. “You have always given me the benefit of the doubt, dad. Always. Just let me talk and explain. Please.”
“This is ridiculous.” Dad spat, running his hand through his hair in utter disbelief of what was going on.
“Tim, please. I’ve listened to both of them and I think you should too.” This time it was your mum’s turn to step in. She put a gentle hand on his arm and you could visibly see the way your dad started to calm down a little bit. “She’s happy.” Her tone grew soft, as did her eyes. 
“Please, Dad.”
Your Dad looked over to you, then to Harry then back to you like you were his final destination. You flashed a pleading look, one he had never resisted before. It was like the cogs were visibly turning in his head and there was another long pause before he grabbed the half-opened bottle of wine on the table and filled his glass to the brim.
He collapsed down in his chair and chugged half the glass then placed it back down on the table. You looked over at Harry and you both excganhed a look of both concern and confusion, not really sure where this was going to go.
“Alright, y/n. I’m listening.”
You spent the next half hour explaining everything. You wanted to be as honest as possible about your relationship without exposing the entire truth because you didn’t really need him knowing that you and Harry hooked up for weeks before dating. All he needed to know was that there was attraction there but you didn’t want to start anything because of the many reasons there were. And that part was the truth.
And he genuinely listened. His initial shock and disagreement for it had faded away a little bit and he was actually able to listen and ask questions and try and understand what you two had going on. You could kind of tell that everything you said just didn’t click with him, but he wasn’t reacting that way. For the most part his grilling was towards Harry and while part of you was happy to be out of the firing line, the other was worried that Harry was in it.
“So her age isn’t some weird kink of yours?” 
“Dad!” you scolded, slowly sinking down into your chair. It was like your parents had no filter. That or they just didn’t care about boundaries or how things came across.
“It’s okay, y/n.” Harry assured you, just like he did when your mum asked her death questions. Mum seemed to go worst case scenario with everything while your dad automatically assumed everyone was out to get you. It was an only child thing. “No, Tim, it isn’t. Y/n is the youngest woman I’ve ever dated in comparison to myself, yes, but that isn’t the reason I love her. In the beginning it was actually one of the reasons I didn’t want to pursue things with her but as we became friends… I realised that we had so much in common that it was hard to ignore how I felt about her. I think I knew from the moment things changed that she was different to any other woman I’ve met. There are infinite reasons I love her and care for her.”
It was question and answer just like that, and every single time Harry was able to provide some answer that had you absolutely swooning over him. Even the most awkward just fucked questions, Harry had no reaction to them. Nothing phased him. It was like he had prepared answers for everything that might come his way. 
“Okay, I’ve heard you two so now I think you should hear me.” Dad clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. “I still don’t think this is a good idea.” 
You went to protest his opinion but he quickly shut you down and glared at you. “Ah.” He tutted before continuing to speak. “I don’t think this is a good idea because he’s just too old for you, pumpkin. You two can love each other and have fun and think that this is forever, but you’re not realistic and I don’t think it’ll work in the long run. For kids, for life experiences, for everything. Your age gap will always dictate everything you do and I don’t want that for you.”
Harry grabbed your hand under the table and squeezed it tight, providing comfort you so desperately needed. Every word your dad said was just hurting you more and more. If your mum could see the potential in your relationship, why couldn’t he?
“I know you two don’t need my blessing and you’ll just keep seeing each other anyway, but I can’t agree with it.” Dad shook his head and stood up suddenly, “You’re happiness is my happiness, y/n so I won’t stay in the way, but don’t expect anything more from me than the bare minimum. Understand?”
You just nodded, a little at loss for words. It wasn’t the worst outcome in the world, but it also wasn’t the best. Your dreams of everyone getting along suddenly seemed so far away. Dad looked at you like you were still his sun, moon and stars but when he looked at Harry… it was like he hated him. A solid unwavering dislike that lasted generations and all it took was him finding out Harry was a whole lot more than your neighbour.
To think less than an hour ago your Dad and Harry were laughing like they were best friends and now… they were practically strangers.
“I understand your hesitation but I want you to know that I’d never hurt your daughter. This is the most serious I have ever been in my life about anyone and I hope one day you can see that.” Harry stood up from the table as well, extending his hand across your cold, forgotten food as a gesture of good will to your Dad. 
But all Dad did was look down at Harry’s olive branch then back up at his face. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed. I have work in the morning.” 
Harry’s hand fell to his side but he didn’t look deterred at all. If this situation was in reverse and this was Harry’s family… you’d be in tears. Dad bid goodnight to your mum as he usually did then rounded the table to hug you too. It was brief and distant enough to make your heart ache. Still, he whispered an ‘I love you’ before leaving the room without another look at Harry.
“Well…” Mum announced, grabbing the second bottle of wine that emerged on the table sometime during your discussion to pour herself another glass. She clearly wasn’t going to work tomorrow. Luckily her husband was her business partner. She took a happy sip and looked at both you and Harry over the rim. “I don’t know about you two but I think that went a lot better than I expected.”
You knew she was right, but it didn’t really feel that way. 
“He’ll come around.” Harry shrugged, starting to stack the dishes so he could take them to the kitchen. “In time.”
Yeah… in time. 
//
“Mr. Styles, you’ve got a visitor.” Sharon opened his office door, peaking in just enough for him to see her face.
He replied without looking up, focused on the document in front of him. “Who? I’ve got an appointment with Niall in 10.” 
“Y/n? She said you’ll make time for her.” 
Yeah fucking right he was going to make time for her. His eyes snapped to hers quickly and she could see how his irritation had disappeared into thin air. 
“Do you want me to bring her in?” She continued, pointing behind her. 
Trying to hide his excitement, he set his pen down and quickly stood up, buttoning up his suit jacket. “No. I’ll go and get her.”
She had a mischievous smile playing on her lips and flashed a knowing look to her boss, someone she managed to create a pleasant working relationship with. 
“She must be special for you to go get her yourself.” There was a slight tease in her tone as she walked alongside Harry down the hall to where you were standing in the small waiting lounge. You hadn’t been back since that day Harry took you to Pleasing. You had often met in the city for lunch but never at his office. This time you wanted to surprise him. 
“What did I tell you about speculating about my personal life?” His tone was humorous, but Sharon knew he was being serious. 
“Right. Sorry. You just never have anyone visit.”
“I’m kidding, Sharon. She’s very special. She’s the love of my life.”
A soft smile played on her lips. Harry was a serious guy basically all the time. Seeing him look so happy was a nice change. She had noticed that he seemed happier recently too and more relaxed at work than usual. “Let me know if you need anything cancelled.” 
“Thank you.” His thanks was brief, a murmur like he didn’t mean the words because there you were sitting all pretty on one of the sofas scrolling away at your phone. You had one of the tote bags Harry bought you beside you and it looked full to the brim. It was one of the bags you two had matching, as were the pair of gazelles on your feet. You saw them in an ad online and told Harry how much you liked them and he was quick to order you a pair. You didn’t show them to him so he’d buy them for you but he liked to spoil you. They were cheap and Harry quite liked the look of them as well so he decided to buy himself a pair too. 
You always got so shy when he bought you something, always grateful. When he asked you why you got like that, you explained it wasn’t the item, but the thought behind it. He noticed everything to the point you were convinced he was writing notes or had tabs on your browser history because he was always showing up with something you made a passing comment about. 
Even the very same shoes you had on your feet. He showed up to his routine night at your house wearing his and was like a giddy kid giving you the box with your own pair in it. 
“Oh my god, you got the shoes! They look so good on you.” You beamed, eyes immediately drawn to his feet. They were the third thing you noticed about him. After his pretty face, his pretty mouth and those black joggers he wore when he wanted to be super comfy. They always managed to turn you on a crazy amount. 
Harry knew that too of course.
“I got you a pair too.” He smiled widely, practically throwing his overnight bags on your bed so he could open one of them to take out the shoe box. You thought you were bad with the amount of shit you took with you on your sleepovers, but no, Harry was just as bad. Worse even. He had some comfy clothes stashed at your place but if he was staying a weekend he always brought multiple outfit options and his entire stash of toiletries. 
It was sexy. You felt like a rich housewife when you laid on your bed watching him get dressed while he asked for your opinion on everything. 
“You didn’t!” Your mouth gaped in shock, grabbing onto the shoe box to open it. You didn’t expect to find the exact same pair as Harry’s inside, but it was a pleasant surprise to find that he had gone out and bought matching shoes for you two. It was possibly the cutest thing ever. “Matching shoes?” You smiled, looking up at him from the box.
He suddenly appeared very shy, like the very idea of being one of those couples who had matching clothes and outfits was a stupid idea. A sheepish expression flashed over his face and he tucked his hands behind his back like a dog tucked their tail between their legs. “Yeah… but if you don’t like them I can return them. Or even if you don’t like the colour we can swap th-” 
You interrupted him by chucking the box on your bed and pulling his face down to yours to give him a big thank-you kiss. “I love them.” You assured him before kissing him again. He smiled into it, wrapping his arms around your body to lean back and lift you off the floor until your tippy toes skimmed the rug. “Thanks for being the best sugar daddy ever.” 
Harry’s laugh broke the kiss while he set you back down on the floor. “Does that mean I get sugar in return then? Since I bought you shoes and dinner.” He let his hands crawl down to your ass, squeezing your cheeks through your leggings with both hands.
“Fuck off.” You hit his chest, trying to act like you didn’t want to give him sugar when in reality you had been waiting to see him all day in hopes he was horny. He usually was. “I’m not an object. You can’t buy me.”
“I can’t?” He raised a brow, “I saw you look at my cock the moment I walked in, y/n. Had you in the palm of my hand just because I wore the sweatpants you like.” Harry had this cocky shit-eating grin on his face that made you want to hit him. Because he was right. All it took was a simple pair of (expensive) sweatpants and you were ready to spread your legs for him. And he brought shoes and dinner? Maybe you could be bought.
Who were you kidding, you definitely could be bought. 
“You’re annoying.” You huffed, grabbing the collar of his to pull him in for a kiss. It only lasted a second before you pulled back, rolling your eyes at the pure look of satisfaction on his face. “Just because you’re right this time doesn’t mean you’re right all the time.”
“No?” He ran his tongue over his teeth, using his hands on your ass so he could pick you up and set you down on the bed. “You want to test that theory?” 
You watched as he smoothly shoved all his belongings (and your shoes) off the bed before taking his sweatshirt and t-shirt off in one go. He grabbed the back of both collars near his neck to do so and fuck. You never understood why it was so sexy when men removed their shirts like that and yet it had you sweating.
“I’m up for some experimentation...”
The sight of you standing from the sofa broke him free from the memory, which was probably best because you were wearing those jeans that made your ass look incredible and the memory associated to them was heading down a reverse cowgirl lane. He didn’t exactly want to be getting hard in the middle of his office. 
“Hi.” You beamed, quickly tucking your phone into your back pocket and slinging your bag over your shoulder. 
“Hi…” Harry beamed, immediately drawing you in for a tight hug. You smiled into it, careful not to get makeup on his expensive suit. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have classes today?” He asked, pulling back while letting his hands rest on your hips. 
“I skipped.” You shrugged, “It was just a lecture anyway and I wanted to finish work off at home. I wanted to surprise you too.” You smiled softly, resting your hands on his chest. 
“I’m so happy you’re here, baby. Truly.” he squeezed your hips, biting down on his bottom lip as his expression turned almost painful. “But Niall will be here in five minutes... I can cancel, though. I will cancel.” 
“About that…” you looked away for a moment, making brief eye contact with a random girl at her desk who seemed far more interested in you and Harry than her work. “I’m Niall.”
“Since when?” He shot back, laughing softly. “No. Seriously. Since when?”
“Stop.” You protested, poking his chest at his teasing. “I wanted to make sure we had time and… well it was kind of fun, actually.” You admitted, watching his eyes twinkle at your admission, “I even called pretending to be his assistant.”
Harry laughed loudly, head tilting back in that gorgeous wide smile that you adored of his. His happiness seemed to capture the attention of anyone nearby and you suddenly felt quite overwhelmed with all the eyes on you two. You didn’t particularly dress up to see him and compared to everyone else in their business attire, you looked extremely casual and young. 
“You could’ve just texted me, baby. I would’ve made time for you.” 
He was so free with his affection for you. So willing to show you off. He wasn’t hiding that you two were a couple or even toning anything down. It made you feel so special. So important. 
It felt so free knowing that your parents knew about him. Even if Dad was pretty against it, mum was happy for you. She was happy that you finally found someone who you deemed worthy to date you and who made you happy and one was better than none. 
You were just so scared to tell them about the trip. Knowing that your mum was willing to accept your relationship made the whole world of difference but your anxiety was at an all time high. Now that everything was in the open, it felt like you two could move on to the next stage of your relationship as well as the next steps Harry had to take with his family situation. While it was his family and a problem that existed before you two even met, you were going to be there on the trip for him in whatever capacity he needed. 
You didn’t want to get involved because families could be so messy and it truly wasn’t your place, but you wanted to support him. You were going to support him.
“Yeah, but then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.” You replied in a ‘duh’ tone before widening your tote bag to show him its contents. “See. I brought sushi for lunch.”
After everything he’s been doing for you to get ready for your trip, you felt like it was a nice gesture to bring him lunch as a bit of a thank you. It wasn’t the end of your gratitude and not the first thank you, but it was a start. Harry was even going as far as offering his credit card to you for any pre-trip shopping as well as a designated shopping day to buy you anything you may need. He knew you well enough to know you were already looking for new dresses and swimsuits and options on options for clothing and wanted to cover all of it. He bought you things he thought you’d like (or selfishly just because he wanted to see you in them) and had already sat through a clothing haul and it had barely been a week since he booked your flight. 
He just loved to spend his money on you. It was almost a turn-on for him to see you enjoy the fruits of his labour. A dress he thought you’d look pretty in or a pair of shoes you had your eye on. He liked to keep your belly full and your heart happy and wanted nothing more than for you to be taken care of in any way. It wasn’t to diminish your hard work or make you feel like you couldn’t afford the things you wanted, just because he fucking loved you more than anything. 
You felt a little bad that he was covering the trip, especially since your flight was booked much later than it should’ve been and ended up being quite pricey (not that he let you know the exact price anyway) but you could also tell that Harry was happy to pay for it. He showed genuine pleasure and excitement for it and there wasn’t a hint of him that felt apprehension or like you somehow owed him for the trip. He was happy that you were joining him, no matter the cost.
You used that happiness of his to try and not feel as guilty for the trip. When you told your friends about it they thought you were crazy for ever feeling guilty in the first place. Before you two even started sleeping together, you’d fantasise about having a rich man buy you nice things and take you wherever you wanted and now that it was actually happening, you felt anxious about it.
But you wanted to enjoy it and you obviously would when you were in the Italian sun with a spritz in one hand and an ice cream in the other… you just needed to give back a little. You had your eye on a nice shirt for him and already started researching restaurants to go to in Italy that you could treat him to. You promised yourself you’d take him to one fancy, romantic dinner and what better place than the home to pizza and gelato?
Harry’s eyes beamed literal hearts as he squeezed your hips and leaned in to kiss you. It was a little unexpected since Harry was very particular about his job and you two were in the middle of his office, but it was a good unexpected. It was gentle, innocent, a loving peck before he pulled back and smiled down at you.
“I love you so much.” 
“I love you too.” You blushed, not really used to the amount of PDA you two were doing right now. 
“Come on.” He nudged, smirking at your shy reaction. “We’ll go eat in my office.” 
He let you walk slightly ahead of him but kept his hand on your lower back to guide you to the right place. Last time you were here you didn’t get inside his office so you had no idea where you were going.  
“Can’t believe you’re here. I missed you.” He murmured, shutting the door behind you two and then immediately grabbing your face to kiss you properly. A peck simply wasn’t enough. After the full-on week you two had, he had missed this. Missed you. He hated when things were complicated and spending time with you like a normal couple was his favourite thing in the world. 
“I missed you too.” You giggled, clutching onto the lapels of his suit jacket while kissing him multiple times. He smiled into the kiss and kissed a few kisses down your jaw to your neck. A pretty little pant whimpered into his ear and that’s when he had to stop himself before he got too ahead of himself. 
“Come on, baby. Sit next to me.” He smiled, grabbing your bag from you and setting it down on his desk. “How’s your day been?” 
“Boring.” You groaned, watching him beeline to one of the arm chairs in front of his desk so he could drag it beside his wheely chair, “I finished one of my smaller assignments last night and today I worked on one of my final ones. It’s literally due next week and worth like 40% of my grade and I feel like I’ll never get it done in time. I’ve barely studied for my exams either and I just feel so shit. I’m over it.” You whined out the complaint, feeling like your head was going to explode.
You had so many things on your mind at once, it was hard to keept track of it all. There was so much left to do for your trip but you barely had any time for it all and you still needed to deep clean your apartment before you left. Most of your clothes were there, but you had so much at your parents’ too that you needed to go through and they didn’t even know about the trip yet. You felt like you were going to be in such a rush towards the end.
Luckily Harry had taken care of practically all the travel essentials, so all you needed to worry about was packing. It still felt like a mammoth of a task when you were swamped with everything else going on in your life. 
“I know it’s hard, baby but you’re doing so well,” Harry praised, pulling his nice chair out for you to sit down. “You’ve been working so hard and you’re so close,” he let you sit down before pushing the chair in for you before sitting down beside you, “You just have to stick it out a bit more. It’s only two weeks.” 
“I know.” You sighed, helping him to unpack the food you bought from your tote bag. “Everything’s happening so fast, I just feel so unprepared.”
“Well you’ve got me to help, okay? So just focus on your studies and I’ll help you with everything else. We’ve got time and all the important things are taken care of. I’ll help you clean your place and pack and whatever else you need. Don’t stress.” He assured you, giving you a comforting squeeze on your knee.
“Thank you,” You smiled, squeezing his chin to bring him in for a quick peck before you looked at the array of trays and small bites you grabbed to share with him. It was what you usually did when you went out to eat so you two could try a little bit of everything. “My mum called too…”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah… she was talking about you again. It’s all she talks about and she’s always asking if I’ve seen you recently. I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s jealous I see you more than her.” You laughed.
“I keep bumping into her on my morning runs more than usual. I have a feeling its on purpose.” Harry laughed in return.
“Yeah that sounds like her…” 
“And your dad?” He nudged your shoulder, “I haven’t seen him since we had dinner. Is he coming around to the idea of us yet?”
“He is. Sort of. I don’t know, Harry, he seems a bit distant towards me. We usually call every couple of days and he’s still doing it but it… feels different. I haven’t even told them about the trip and I don’t want to put it off but I feel like he’ll be really upset.” 
“You haven’t told them yet?” Harry blinked, “Y/n we spoke about this. You were meant to tell them over the weekend.” He sighed, almost like he was disappointed in you. You both agreed that you had to tell them sooner rather than later. You wanted to give your dad a few days to process your relationship before telling him because you couldn’t really leave it any longer than that. 
It was just shit timing. The trip was coming so fast and your parents found out about you two so close to when you were leaving. Way too close. 
“I know. I know.” You replied, groaning a little. “It’s just shit timing.”
“I know, y/n, and they might be upset about it but we leave in two weeks. You need to tell them.” He stressed. You hated when he spoke to you like that. It wasn’t rude or condescending in any way but you could tell he was a little annoyed about it. He had every right to be because this was something you had to do and you didn’t want to fight about it or start anything unnecessarily when you were in the wrong. 
You also just didn’t have the energy to deal with it.  
“I hate when you’re right. It’s annoying.” You sighed, trying to lighten the mood by laughing softly. Harry knew this was a conversation that didn’t end here, but he could sense your reluctance in it all. He was happy to entertain a small break from it, but it seriously was something that had to be dealt with. 
“Well I get it from my mum so if I’m annoying so is she.” Harry smirked, expertly picking up a piece of sashimi with his chopsticks before popping it into his mouth. 
“No, never! Anne is like a ray of sunshine. She can be right whenever she wants” 
“And I can’t ?” He laughed, “that seems unfair.”
Harry wasn’t sure why the sound of his mother’s name on your lips made his heart beat so goddamn fast, but he nearly dropped the sushi from his mouth at how casual and normal it was. He loved it. Adored it. He hoped that you two meeting in person would be as successful as it was via Zoom. 
Harry also hoped that her concerns for your relationship would disappear once you two were face to face. You’d have ample opportunity to spend time together on your trip and he hoped that it would solidify what you two had. The future you two had. 
Anne’s concerns were valid and Harry knew that it was something that would come up time and time again with everyone that met you. 
“She’s just so… young. She’s a gorgeous girl and so sweet, I can see why you like her but are you being realistic? I just don’t want you getting hurt, H,” Anne sighed through the phone, “Young women want to be free and I just don’t want you two to get a year, two years in and you’re ready to slow down while she’s just getting started. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you.” 
“I love her, Mum and if anything her age has been better for me. I feel like I'm enjoying my life in a way that’s completely different from when I was single. I’m learning so many things and so is she. It hasn’t been easy by any means, but it’s working.” 
“Well, as long as you’re sure…”
“I am.” 
“I saw she’s wearing my necklace too,” She continued after a beat of silence, “She must mean a lot to you.”
“She does, mum. She means everything to me. I can’t explain it but I just know she’s my forever.”
“Well it’s nice to see you so happy. It’s been a long time since you’ve smiled so much. I missed it.”
“I missed it too.”
“You’re just saying it’s unfair because I’m on her side and not yours.” You grinned, breaking him free from his daze. 
“If this is going to be another Archie situation where my mother loves you more than me…” he waved his chopsticks towards you, making you giggle. 
“Oh it absolutely will be. I’ve been texting her y’know. We follow each other on Instagram now.” 
“You’re kidding.” He gawked, all wide eyed. 
“Nope. When she found out I was coming to England she was so excited.” 
“Yeah I’m sure. You’re her favourite and she’s only known you for a week.” Harry sighed dramatically, eliciting a little shove of his arm. He grinned and squished your face to draw you in for a kiss, loving the way he could taste and feel every emotion you two were feeling in that moment. Words could lie but a kiss never could. 
“I’m serious though, y/n...” He murmured against your lips before pulling away while keeping his hand on your jaw. His thumb brushed against your cheek, caressing your soft skin. “You need to tell them tonight.”
“I’m scared.” You whispered. “I’m going either way, obviously, but I’m so worried they’ll be really upset with me. You know I hate upsetting them.” 
“I know baby, I get it.” Harry dropped his hand from your cheek and relaxed back to his chair. “The timing is shit and I know if this trip was in a couple of months it would be easier for them to handle, but this is your life, y/n. We’ve done nothing wrong by going on a trip and I’m sure if they can accept our relationship, they can deal with a holiday. You’re an adult and so am I.”
“Maybe you’re right...”  
“Baby all we did was fall in love.” He sensed your apprehension and wanted to try and convince you otherwise. He tipped your chin towards him so you were looking at him before grabbing both of your hands in his. “Your dad might not be happy with us dating or going overseas or any of it but I can make him understand. I know deep down that all he wants is for you to be happy and… I can prove that to him. You’re important to me, y/n. The most important person in my life.” He reached out to fiddle with the little pearls around your neck. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling all kinds of nervous at his words. “If I were a father, all I’d want for my little girl is to know she was being loved and cared for. That she’s happy. No matter who she’s dating.” 
Harry wasn’t sure where it came from, putting himself in the role of a father. He could’ve phrased it in a different way, in any other way and yet it felt so right to imagine himself like that. Barely three months into being in a relationship with you and he somehow felt different about everything. 
It scared the hell out of him. 
“I am happy. I am.” Your eyes softened, glossing over ever so slightly. You squeezed his hand in both of yours,. “And I know you’re right. I just want us to skip to the good part where we’re together with our families, y’know. I loved meeting your mum and even just having dinner with you and my parents was amazing… before I opened my mouth.” You laughed softly but it was over before it even started because you just found yourself overcome with so much emotion. Through everything, Harry never failed to know what to say or how to make you feel better. It sometimes felt like he had a read on you before you even knew what you were feeling. “I just want us to be happy.” You whispered, reaching up to cup his face, “I love you so much Harry. I’ve never felt like this, ever. You’re my person. I want everyone to know that.”
You’re my person. 
You’re. My. Person. 
Harry repeated the phrase in his mind over and over, nearly bursting at the seams with how much love he felt towards you. You were his person too. Through and through. From the moment he met you he just knew there was something different about you which is why he was always drawn to you. And now he had the words for it. 
You were his person. 
Harry cupped your face and pulled you in for a deep kiss, one that expressed every single emotion he felt for you. He could taste the sushi and soy sauce on your lips but he couldn’t care less. He was happy and the boring day he was having suddenly turned into the best day. 
“You’re my person too.” He breathed, panting slightly from how long the kiss had gone. “Have been from the moment I met you. I just didn’t know it.” 
You didn’t know what to do with yourself. There was something about Harry being romantic and professing his affection that got you so unbelievably riled up, you couldn’t contain it. You couldn’t switch it off and while you could pretend it wasn’t happening or ignore the fact you already had a heartbeat between your legs, you didn’t want to.
Things were left so unfinished the other night and you always did wonder what it would be like to be bent over Harry’s desk…
“Harry I mean this so seriously, if you keep talking like that….” You breathed, watching the way his heart-eyes heated up and turned into something dark and smoldering. 
“What?” He grinned, cocking his head. “If I keep talking like that ‘what’?”
He was teasing you, trying to coax you into admitting what he already knew you wanted. 
“I won’t be able to stop myself…”
“Then don’t” Harry smirked, letting one hand slide down to loop around your neck so he could pull you in to kiss him again. You whimpered softly into his mouth, cupping his jaw while practically melting into his touch. Your other hand fell to his thigh, squeezing it in your palm while your mouths molded together in a kiss so intense your body was floating.
Were you really going to have sex right here? 
Yeah. Fuck it.
 “Baby.” He groaned against your mouth, forcing himself to pull away from you. Your chest was rising and falling quickly and all he wanted to do was get a handful of your breasts. To tug at your pebbled nipples that he could see so fucking clearly due to the soft cups of the bra you were wearing. At this point he knew exactIy what your tits looked like in all different types of bras. 
Stifling back a moan, he slid his hand back up to cup your cheek while running his thumb over your mouth. Your lips were swollen, all pink and pretty and so delicious it was almost painful to not dive back in and kiss you. “We need to stop if you don’t want things to go further.” 
“Who says I don’t want things to go further?” you breathed, grabbing onto his spare hand to bring it up to your chest. Your hand pressed over his until he squeezed a good handful of your breast, running his finger over your hard nipple. Shit. “Please.” 
“Go lock the door.” He murmured, standing up quickly out of his chair while shrugging off his suit jacket. 
You beelined to the door, thankful for the big oak doors Harry’s position afforded him. It didn’t mean you had total privacy. Walls were thin and he had huge glass windows on one side of the office. Anyone could see you two and someone could most definitely hear you.
Which is why you had to be quiet and quick. 
Harry met you halfway, crossing the floor in three quick strides to grab your face and kiss you again. Everything was happening so quickly. You were unbuttoning his pants and pulling his dress shirt out of his pants while he guided you backwards towards the small couch he had against one wall. Harry would’ve liked to bend you over his desk, but it was covered in your uneaten sushi and he had a feeling both of you would be starving after your quick fuck.
He almost couldn’t believe it was happening until he remembered all the moments you two practiced exhibitionism before. In his pool, his car and on the boat during your weekend away. He had no doubt it would happen again, most likely at Pleasing where you two could really explore all the things you wanted to. 
Harry sat back on the couch, keeping your mouths connected while he undid your jeans button and zipper. It was such an effort wearing jeans and you suddenly regretted wearing pants at all. You quickly made a mental note to wear something easier to remove if you were ever visiting Harry for ‘lunch’ again.
“Why did I have to wear jeans?” You groaned, helping him shove them down your legs to quicken the process before you stepped out of them. 
“Don’t wear pants next time.” He breathed, grabbing the back of your thighs to guide you down to straddle him. 
“I won’t.” You agreed desperately, threading your fingers through his hair while kissing him to try and keep yourself quiet. You could feel the hard length of his cock the moment you straddled him, all long and thick. You could hardly wait to get him inside you, not when he had said such romantic things and looked so fucking hot in his suit.
There was something so sexy about his workwear and now that you were straddling him in nothing but your sneakers, underwear and t shirt and he was still practically fully dressed… it had never been hotter. 
“You’re so hard.” You murmured, tilting your head back to gasp as he grinded your pussy against his cock. 
His fingers were dug so hard into your ass you knew you’d be feeling the touch for days. He’d probably come over straight from work and fuck you again, making it known how hot he finds the fresh bruises on your pretty skin. Then he’d take nice care of you and massage your skin, rub cream into the marks and kiss you everywhere until you were reduced to a sleepy mess. 
“And you’re so wet. Did telling you I love you really turn you on this much?” Harry smirked, nipping at your neck. He tucked his work pants down to his thighs when he sat down on the couch so you wouldn’t make a mess of them and he was glad he did so. You were soaked. A sticky mess that had fully soaked through both your underwear and his until his cock felt warm with your arousal. 
“I like to be romanced.” You smiled, nipping at his bottom lip. “Being sentimental gets me wet, what can I say?”
“Yeah? Maybe I need to do it more often then.” He murmured, pushing your t shirt up until it bunched over your tits. He cupped one of them, keeping firm eye contact with you while running his thumb over your nipple until he pushed the thin lace material of your bra down to expose it. “Tell you how my heart skips a beat when I see you. How fairies are born when you laugh?”
He was only teasing, but there was nothing teasing about the way he wrapped his mouth around your nipple and sucked, tugging at it between his teeth until you were holding back a loud moan. That was torture. “You’re ridiculous.” 
“Am I? You’re saying that you don’t feel your pretty cunt flutter when I tell you how my life would be incomplete without you?” He cocked his head, watching the way your eyes glazed over as he continued grinding you over his dick. You could already feel that tingle in your belly and it had barely been two minutes of grinding on him. “Or would you prefer I tell you how badly I need to pump you full of my cum? How you’re a needy little slut for begging me to fuck you right here when anyone could walk in on us?”
And he felt it. He felt the way you clenched against him. How the heartbeat between your legs increased at the first few words of degradation.
“That I love you more for it…” He had this shit eating grin on his face and was happy to nip at your nipple and grind your clit against him until you were a poor tense little thing on top of him. “That did it, didn’t it, baby?”
“I need your cock. Please.” You whispered, dragging his head from your breast upwards so you could kiss him again. He smirked into your mouth and lifted your hips off him, making you rest on your knees instead of his lap so he could untuck his cock from his briefs. 
The moment his cock was free he dragged you back down and dipped his fingers between your bodies to nudge your underwear to the side so he had free access to you. “Y’want my fingers?” He offered, knowing it would sting to take him with no prep. Harry knew you liked that, but he also couldn’t assume it’s what you wanted.
The haste shake of your head was all he needed to guide his cock to your entrance, making sure to muffle your quiet whimper by his own mouth while letting you take lead and drop down at your own pace. You had no issues being quiet by yourself. You could make yourself cum dozens of times and barely moan so no one would hear and yet the second you were with Harry all you wanted to do was make noise.
Maybe it was because he always encouraged it. That he loved the way you moaned his name and screamed for him. Or maybe it was because no vibrator or dildo could compare to the feeling of his hard cock splitting you open. The way his veins felt going inside you and how it was attached to the hottest man on the planet.
Your vibrator didn’t wrap its arms around you and your dildo certainly didn’t kiss you filthily and grab your ass to encourage you to take it. They didn’t grab your hips and bounce you or wrap their mouths around your nipples to deliver that bite of pain Harry knew would get you off quicker. 
Because this was a quickie and the moment you had his entire cock deep inside you Harry was pulling out all the tricks to get you to finish quicker. He had no issues orgasming fast, nor did he have issues holding himself back to make it last longer. But you… he needed you to finish first when he was inside you and that wouldn’t change just because you two were having a quickie.
“Shit. Shit, Harry.” You gasped, rocking your hips back and forth to grind his cock against your g-spot. With every back and forth movement, your clit rubbed against the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock, the material of his boxers adding extra friction that hit you so much harder than usual. 
“I know. I know. Being so good for me. Y’ride me so fucking well, baby.” He whispered, fisting the hair at the back of your head to kiss you again. 
It was all gasps and slapping skin and sloppy kisses that were way too loud. If anyone came close to the door they’d know exactly what you were doing but neither of you seemed to care. You were both just trying to reach your highs while keeping your moans to a minimum. 
What never stopped though was his filthy fucking dirty talk. Right in your ear when he kissed your neck and rumbled into your mouth when your lips brushed together while you two tried to catch your breaths. It was why you finished so fast. Why your first orgasm tumbled over you barely two minutes into riding him, then a second under two minutes after. Everything about the situation was so hot and you were so beyond turned on it felt easy for your body to respond to every touch and every word. Every utter of I love you.
You severely underestimated the ability for those three little words to cause so much love and so much arousal all at once. 
“You’re unbelievable.” Harry breathed out a laugh while tucking himself back into his boxers, watching you hastily pull your jeans back on.
“Me? You’re the one telling me fairies are born when I laugh. In the middle of sex too.” You laughed, running your fingers through your hair. 
“I wasn’t exactly lying.” He flirted, grabbing your chin with a cheesy smile before he kissed you. “I love you.”
“I love you.” You repeated earnestly. 
“Did that make you wet?” He asked, already expecting the roll of your eyes. 
“You’re an idiot. Now sit back down, I’m going to go pee and clean up quickly.” You poked his chest and went to grab your phone then walked to the door.
“Yes, ma’am.” He mock saluted, returning in his chair by the time you unlocked the office door. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”
“Yeah. We passed it on the way to your office. Now don’t eat everything.”
“You better hurry up then.” He teased, shoving a piece of a california roll into his mouth. You rolled your eyes again and left his office, shutting the door behind you on your way out. 
Harry’s office was the last door at the end of a hallway. There were a few closed offices on the way, then the bathrooms were closest to the waiting area. It was a short walk, barely 20m between you and your destination which was a blessing considering the cold cum slowly soaking into your undewear. A quick wipe with a tissue wasn’t enough with the amount of cum he filled you with. Which was why it never occurred to you that you’d run into anyone you knew. 
You knew there was a possibility, given Harry worked with his friends and… Ethan, but it just didn’t cross your mind because they all worked in different areas and you were a little preoccupied with the mess between your legs. Their jobs overlapped but the only reason they spent so much time together was because they were friends. Otherwise the overlaps could be handled by a third party. 
Wednesday’s were Harry’s meeting heavy days and often the day he chose to work at home. They were usually via zoom anyway which is why you chose today to come visit him. He’d be busy with meetings and you booked a slot. You knew he was avoiding any work with Ethan and when it couldn’t be avoided, Harry would get someone else to deal with it. 
As bad as it sounded… you were just trying to forget about it all. Or at the very least deal with what happened without dwelling on it. You had shut it out of your mind, ignoring the big part of you that wanted him to pay for what he did. You knew it was a bad coping mechanism but it was better than dwelling on the fact that you couldn’t get him on any charges. With the way he did everything there was no paper trail or evidence so you couldn’t exactly do anything without it being a he-say, she-say situation. 
You trusted that Harry was still devising a way to get him out of your lives for good, but for now you were just focusing on working on your relationship supporting him when he had a particularly rough Ethan day. It wasn’t a long term solution by any means, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it. You had the pictures and he was leaving you alone, that was good enough. 
So when you were distracted replying to a message on your phone and a body was distracted by a folder in their hand, you didn’t see them until your shoulders bumped. 
“Oh my god, I’m so so-” The words got caught in your throat, eyes widening at the sight of Ethan in front of you.
“No worries babe, should’ve looked where I was-” he replied on autopilot until he actually looked at you and an arrogant pig-like expression morphed onto his face. “Well if it isn’t little y/n. What brings you here?”
In a split second time seemed to freeze. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t hear. Suddenly the world around you was blurring into fuzzy shapes and black dots. All you could think about was the intimate photos he had of you for weeks. How he had a list of people with copies, most who probably saw them and how he probably got off to them and got off on the fact that Harry was reduced to nothing and had to pay thousands of dollars just to protect you. To get you back. 
You weren’t even sure Ethan knew that you and Harry were together, but you knew damn well he revelled in the fact you two had to break up. That he ruined your relationship. 
But you couldn’t say any of that even if you wanted to because the world was starting to close around you and you felt this pressure on your chest that became suffocating. It was like air ceased to exist and you feared that if you didn’t get away from him you’d die on the ground right at his feet. 
You said nothing and ran past him, ignoring his confused ‘what the fuck?’ that you somehow felt rattling in every corner of your brain. Stumbling, you shoved your way into the women’s bathroom and headed straight to a stall so you could sit down. 
You barely made it, collapsing onto the closed toilet seat so you wouldn’t pass out. Your whole body was trembling and it was like you were burning from the inside while simultaneously freezing all over. You had never experienced anything like it and even though you were trying to control your breathing, trying so fucking hard, nothing was working. 
With every breath the air became thinner, every tremble you sweat harder. All you could think about was your naked body being in the hands of a stranger, someone who had no permission or right and willingly paid to view you in your most vulnerable state. You couldn’t get it out of your head or your heart or your body. 
You were panicking. 
And then you felt it, a brief moment of fresh air and crystal clear vision before your lungs closed again. There was a commotion outside the bathroom, two muffled voices that made no sense to you. Then a second later the door was slamming open and you recognised the voice of your lover in his own panic. 
“Y/n? Baby where are you?” 
You tried to open your mouth and yell out to him but all that came out was a muffled gasp. It didn’t matter whether you yelled to him or not though because he was slamming each stall door open until he found you and when he did he fell to his knees in front of you, right on the dirty bathroom floor. But he didn’t care, not one fucking bit when you were sitting on the toilet looking like you were about to die. 
“Oh god, baby. Look at me. Just look at me, okay?” He soothed, cupping your face to try and get your eyes to focus on him. 
He knew exactly what was happening. He didn’t know why or how exactly but he figured it had something to do with the bastard he passed on the way to find you. Right now though, none of that mattered. Not when you were having a full blown panic attack right in front of him for the first time in your life. You must’ve been so scared and being scared and panicked was only going to make it worse. He knew that. 
“Sharon, I need water.” He called over his shoulder. “And a towel please and you need to make sure no one comes in here, okay?” 
You heard her muffled reply before he was looking right at you again. “Look at me, y/n. Come on.” He encouraged, running his thumbs over your cheeks. You finally looked at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Good girl. That’s it. It’s okay. It’s okay, y/n. You’re safe and nothings going to happen to you, okay? I’m right here.” Shit. “I’m right here.”
“It’s… I can’t-I can’t breathe.” You whimpered, clawing at your own chest to articulate how horrible you were feeling. 
“I know. I know but it’s okay. You’re okay.” His voice was so calm, so steady. You appreciated that. He gently took your hands in his so you wouldn’t hurt yourself and cradled them so his chest. Using one to keep them there, he used the other to grab the back of your neck gently to pull you forward so your foreheads were pressed together. “Just breathe with me, okay? Try and match my breathing.”
“I can’t. I can’t.” You protested, closing your eyes while a pitiful whimper slipped in the small space separating your mouths. You panted desperately, breathing through your small cries while hugging onto his body in hopes that his warmth and calm presence would help you. 
“I know it’s hard, but you can do it. Just try, baby. You can do it.” He was trying to encourage you and stay calm. The last thing you needed was feeling any stress or panic from him because that would just make the entire situation worse. But god it was so fucking hard. Feeling your body tremble and watching your pretty face in so much pain was horrible. But he had to stay strong and he just wanted to get you better so he could take you home. It was his only concern. 
“Deep breath in, y/n. In… out…” 
Harry closed his eyes for a single moment, collecting himself before opening them again to watch you while he guided your breathing again. He kept his tone soft and even, guiding you through it until you seemed to be breathing easier. Your trembling started to cease and you were no longer a stiff board in his arms. You were able to relax into his touch, slumping against him with your forehead on his shirt. 
“That’s it. You did so well, baby. Love you so much.” He soothed, letting his lips brush against your head while he ran his hands over your back.
You didn’t respond, but he took how pliant you were becoming in his arms as a good sign. The bathroom door swung open a moment later and Sharon was rushing in with a plastic cup of water and a damp hand towel. She passed them to Harry and wordlessly left once Harry thanked her to guard the door to give you two some privacy. 
“Here…” Harry nudged your chin, “Can you drink this?” He held your chin in a gentle grip, feeling like his heart was going to shatter just at the sight of your teary eyes and puffy cheeks. You grabbed the cup from him and started to take shaky sips from it, closing your eyes when he grabbed the damp towel to dab your face. 
The two of you remained like that for a while. You weren’t exactly sure how long. Harry just kept rubbing your back and using the cool temperature of the towel to try and calm your splotchy skin. You didn’t say anything and neither did Harry, but even if you wanted to, you had nothing to say. Your mind was blank and if anything… all you wanted to do was go home.
You had never felt so emotionally drained and numb all at the same time. It was like all your compartmentalisation and bad coping skills had suddenly given way and let everything in all at once. There was so much going on in your brain that it all cancelled each other out until you felt absolutely nothing but pure exhaustion and… anger. You were tired and angry and numb and everything was so fucking confusing you didn’t know what was what, just that you were over it.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked softly, speaking the first words for what felt like an hour. You weren’t sure why it jarred you so much to hear him ask that but you took that as a sign that you needed to go home. You didn’t want to be in this office any longer than you had to be and as bad as it was… you didn’t want to be near Harry either. 
You went from needing him and feeling like his presence and his calm was the only way you could breathe to feeling suffocated just by being near him. You didn’t understand it when it wasn’t his fault but somehow felt like he was the one to blame. It was unfair.
It was also unfair to have photos taken of you in your most vulnerable state then be threatened with them. It was unfair to have your boyfriend work with the man who did that to you and suffer no consequences for his actions. Even if Harry did have a plan, you just didn’t fucking understand how he could stand being in the same building as him. 
The last thing you wanted was saying something you’d regret because your mind wasn’t clear so it felt like the right decision to go home by yourself, even if you already knew Harry would want to drive you and make sure you got home alright. 
“No… um, no I don’t think so.” You shook your head and pressed your hand to the wall of the stall to help you stand up. Your legs were cramped and shaky from being sat down for so long and the rest of you felt like you had a 50kg weight tied to every muscle in your body.  
Harry’s brows furrowed, and he quickly stood up as well. There was a switch in your demeanor that he didn’t like. A distant, almost… cold shift that he had only seen in the very beginning of your relationship when he fucked everything up. But he hadn’t done anything so to see you become so withdrawn sent alarm bells ringing everywhere. 
“That’s okay, you don’t… you don’t have to.” Harry exhaled a deep breath and squeezed the towel in his hand, “I know it’s hard but it is good to talk about it. I’m here when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” You smiled softly, crushing the plastic cup in your hand. The sound echoed around the bathroom and it felt entirely too loud for how intense the situation was. 
Harry attempted to reach out and give you a comforting squeeze on your arm but was only met with rejection when you shifted your shoulder back to avoid it. You could see the flash of hurt cross his eyes and the way his brows knitted even closer together, but he didn’t dare comment on it. Harry knew how sensitive someone could be after a panic attack so he tried to not take it personally and viewed it as a mistake on his behalf.
But you let him hold you for what felt like forever. You just collapsed in his arms until you could breathe again… still, he had gone through panic attacks and he knew that everyone reacted differently. You could come out of it in the worst mental state and the last thing he wanted was giving you too much space and something happening because of it. 
“I’m just going to wash my hands.” The moment you slid past him and out of the stall, you immediately felt a sense of relief from not being so confined anymore. You scratched at your chest a little while watching him join you at the basin beside you to wash his hands as well.
“I’ll drive you home, y/n. I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Harry spoke softly, looking directly at you while scrubbing his hands with the soap. 
“I actually think it’s better if I am… alone.” You cleared your throat and walked to the paper towel dispenser to dry your hands. Your back was towards him but you could feel his stare on your back. “I parked at the station so the train will be fine. I think I just need some time alone, if that’s okay?”
“Are you sure? You’ve never had a panic attack before, y/n. I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you all by yourself. At least let me drive you.” Harry offered, trying to be encouraging without too pushy. But it was really fucking hard because every moment you withdrew from him was another moment he felt himself start to panic at what was going on with you. He had no idea what was running through your head and there was no way for him to find out unless you told him yourself.
“I’m fine, Harry. Really.” You sighed, turning around to face him. He looked so… sad. Helpless almost. “I just need to walk it off, okay?” 
With a firm nod, Harry reluctantly backed down. It was the last thing on the entire planet that he wanted but what choice did he have?
“Okay. Just…” he inhaled a ragged breath and stepped towards you. Harry wanted to touch you so badly, even just a pinky looped to yours but he stopped himself just before his fingers grazed the back of your hand. “Let me walk you out at least. Please.”
Even though your chest was still clammy, your lungs didn’t feel like they were at full capacity yet and you just didn’t want him to walk you anywhere, you still agreed. He had done so much for you, more than you felt like you deserved. The least you could do was let him walk you out the building. 
The walk to get your things and go downstairs was painfully awkward. Thankfully Sharon had warded off the bathroom and hallway so there was no one lingering around, including Ethan but that did very little to dispel how uncomfortable you were. It hadn’t felt like this for months and there wasn’t a single moment since you two started dating where you didn’t want to be around him.
It was a sick feeling, one that just mixed in with your need to go home and die in your bed. Unfortunately, you knew that once you had a shower and cried some more, you’d be pushing it all away again to focus on your assignment. It was cruel. 
“Text me when you get home?” Harry asked, voice full of hope. He tucked his hands in his pockets as you adjusted your tote bag on your shoulder. The street was full and busy of the usual lunch rush, all the corporate men and women off to buy an overpriced sandwich or go to their favourite hole-in-a-wall restaurant for takeaway. 
You two could’ve been going to your favourite japanese cafe for a coffee right now to walk off your food comas, but instead your nice romantic lunch had turned into something ugly. It felt like it was all your fault and yet somehow your brain was blaming Harry. 
Again, even if you didn’t want to agree, you did. “Yeah, of course.”
“Okay, cool. Thank you?” Harry wasn’t sure what to do or say. He was at a loss.
There was nothing about this situation that felt normal or even was normal. He didn’t feel like he could kiss you or even hug you goodbye. It felt like the end of an awkward first date where the polite thing to do was hug goodbye even if neither party wanted to. But Harry did want to. He wanted to follow you right now to make sure you got home okay. That you were okay. 
“Bye Harry.” You opted to make the painful goodbye, feeling sick to your stomach at the entire day. You felt dirty and sticky and the complete normalcy of everyone around you just going about their day was kiling you a little bit inside. 
“Right… um, okay. Goodbye, y/n. Thank you for lunch.” 
It was formal and ugly and all you could do in response was mutter another goodbye and flash him the saddest most pitiful smile you could muster before turning around to walk in the direction of the closest train station. 
And just like that, Harry watched you walk away. 
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wholoveseggs · 2 days
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Yo I’m back. Tbh half of your anon requests are me lol. Can you write something about Elijah and the reader having a family. Kids of any age maybe living in the compound with the rest of the mikaelsons? Still smut ofc but I love that episode where Elijah is with Cami at the safe house and he acts all family man fixing the fence n stuff that was hotttt
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Family Man
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Life at the compound can be chaotic with kids and family running around, but Elijah wouldn't have it any other way.
♡♡ Thanks for the request wonderful @elijahstwink (everyone go check out his fics!) & anon!I Love domestic Elijah sooo much, I truly believe this would be his dream life. ♡♡
4.5k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, unfortunately I didn't make this as kinky as requested...its just very sappy and sweet, this is just a day in the life of Elijah as a devoted father and husband, pregnant!reader, uncle Klaus being precious, toddlers, hot cocoa, kittens & so much flufffffff
ps, this is pretty much a sequel to devotion...
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In the early hours of the morning you were awoken by a loud snore from your husband. You rolled over to face him, chuckling a little as you watched his peaceful sleeping form. It was the first time in a long time he was finally getting the rest he deserved.
You slowly turned, carefully sliding out of bed. You tiptoed out the room and decided to go down to the kitchen to make some tea.
You loved this time of night, being in the stillness of the house, just enjoying the calmness and being able to take in the beauty of it all.
When you reached the bottom step, you heard some sniffling and cries coming from one of the rooms down the hall. You rushed to the door and opened it, and a small figure ran into your arms, clinging onto you.
"What's wrong, little one?" you asked, scooping her up.
"I had a nightmare. There were these people with sharp teeth and they were chasing me. And then you were there but you were gone. It was scary, mommy," she sobbed, her head buried in your chest.
"It's okay, sweetheart, it was just a dream. Nothing bad will happen to you. You are safe," you said, kissing her head and stroking her hair, soothing her. "Come on, let's go get something warm to drink,"
You carried her down to the kitchen and began to prepare the hot cocoa, which was her favorite. As you stood over the stove, waiting for the milk to boil, you felt her little hands rubbing your stomach.
"Mommy, when is the baby going to come out?" she asked.
"Not for a while, sweetie. It needs to grow inside my belly for a little longer," you chuckled.
"Okay," she said, looking sad. "I can't wait to meet them. Is it a girl or a boy?" she asked, looking up at you with her big, brown eyes.
"We don't know yet," you replied.
"Oh," she replied, disappointed. "I hope it's a girl. I already have a brother, I want a sister," she said.
"We'll just have to wait and see," you smiled, placing the mug of hot cocoa down on the counter. "Here, drink up, before it gets cold," you said.
She hopped off the chair and held the mug with both her hands, sipping away. You sipped on your tea as well, feeling relaxed. You loved these quiet moments with her, and you would cherish every one of them, since she was growing up so fast.
"So, what was this dream about, princess?" you asked, wanting to know more.
"T-there were people with sharp teeth and they were after me," she said.
"And why do you think that was?" you asked, not wanting her to feel afraid, but curious about what caused this dream.
"I think I saw it in a movie or something," she said, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "An-and uncle Nik showed me his sharp teeth, but he promised he would never bite me, only use them to protect me," she said.
"Oh, did he now?" you laughed.
"Yeah, but then he bit my teddy bear," she said, giggling. "he said my teddy was a threat!"
"That sounds like something uncle Nik would do," you chuckled.
"Can I sleep with you and daddy tonight?" she asked, her eyes wide and pleading.
"Of course, sweetheart," you replied.
"Thank you, mommy," she said, smiling and hugging your legs.
"Come on, let's go to bed," you said, picking her up. She wrapped her arms around your neck and laid her head on your shoulder as you walked back up to your bedroom.
You placed her in the middle of the bed, and she quickly snuggled up against Elijah, her head on his chest. She loved having his attention. She was a daddy's girl through and through.
You slid back into bed, lying down on your side and Elijah instantly pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you both.
"Is my little one alright?" he asked sleepily, his eyes still closed.
"I had a bad dream, daddy," she sniffled, curling up against him.
"It's alright, my love. Everything will be alright," he said, kissing her head and soothing her. "No bad dreams will get you while I'm here," he said, pulling the blanket up and tucking her in.
She smiled at him and kissed his cheek, cuddling him as she drifted off to sleep. He stroked her hair, and her eyes grew heavy. Soon she was sound asleep, and he placed his hand on your stomach, his precious family safe in his arms.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Exhausted. Our littlest one is keeping me up, constantly moving and kicking," you sighed, feeling drained.
"Let's hope it's not like this for the whole pregnancy," he chuckled.
"Don't even joke about that," you groaned.
He gave you a kiss on the head, your daughter snuggled in between the two of you, and you finally managed to get a few more hours of sleep.
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Elijah was woken by the sunlight shining through the curtains, and he smiled at the sight of his beautiful family.
His daughter was still cuddled up to him, her head buried in his chest, she stirred slightly and yawned.
"Do you want breakfast?" he asked, his hand on her back.
"Yes," she mumbled.
"Hmmm what would you and your brother like? Gruel? Porridge?" he asked, teasing her.
"Eww no," she groaned, loudly.
"Alright, alright, pancakes it is, let's go wake your brother and the rest of the family," he said, chuckling.
"Can we get chocolate chips on the pancakes?" she asked as he carried her out the room.
"I don't know, maybe your brother wants blueberries, but we'll ask," he said, tickling her.
His son and his niece were both awake and running around, and Klaus was chasing him, laughing, the children giggling as they hid under the dining table.
"Oh, look who's here. Little Rebekah is up," Klaus teased.
"No! That's not my name!" she pouted, crossing her arms.
"Yes, it is," Elijah chuckled.
"Nooo," she whined. "It's just Bex," she said.
"Alright, alright, Bex it is," Klaus chuckled, patting his head.
"Pancakes for breakfast, anyone?" Elijah asked.
"Yes, yes, yes," the children yelled.
"Chocolate chips?" Klaus asked, grinning.
"Yes!!!" the kids screamed, all jumping up and down in excitement.
"Alright, I'll make them, the last one to the kitchen is a rotten egg," Klaus said, speeding off.
The kids squealed and ran after Klaus, and Elijah chuckled and went back upstairs to check on you.
You were sound asleep, your hair fanned across the pillow. He laid down next to you, placing his hand on the swell of your stomach, smiling and talking to the baby.
"How are you, littlest one? Have you been keeping mommy up all night?" he asked, his dimples on full display.
"Yes, they have," you sighed.
"That's my job," he smirked, leaning in and giving you a kiss. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked.
"I'll go eat later. I just want to stay here for a little longer," you replied, holding his hand on your stomach.
Elijah hummed softly and pulled you close, kissing your head and rubbing your back. He loved the way you melted into his touch.
"How is Bex?" you asked.
"She's completely forgotten about her nightmare, Klaus is making breakfast for all the kids," he chuckled.
"They have him wrapped around their little fingers," you giggled.
"He has grown soft, it's true," Elijah said.
"Bex told me he bit her teddy bear," you laughed.
"Yes, well, that doesn't surprise me," he chuckled, his lips brushing against yours.
You sighed happily and wrapped your arms around him, feeling complete bliss in his embrace.
"What would you like to do today?" he asked.
"Stay right here with you," you replied, running your hand through his hair, making him hum in delight. You were feeling a bit needy this morning, the pregnancy hormones making you want him all the time.
"I think that can be arranged," he smirked.
You grinned and leaned in, kissing him slowly, deepening the kiss. He moaned, and rolled over, pressing you into the mattress, making sure not to put any weight on your stomach.
He loved your pregnant state, the way your skin glowed, your eyes sparkled and the way you moaned his name made him crazy. He couldn't keep his hands off you, he wanted to ravish you day and night.
He thought he knew all of his kinks, but this one took him by surprise. When you were first pregnant with Henry it was like something in his brain clicked. The possessiveness, the lust, the way his cock ached to be inside you, he was lost.
Henry was a miracle, he didn't quite know how the magic worked. You tried to explain it to him once, your witch ancestry, how the moon played a part, but all he could think about was fucking you senseless, filling you up, and breeding you.
You were the perfect partner, and an absolute warrior, but nothing turned him on more than seeing you in this submissive, almost docile state. You were his wife, his goddess, and his greatest treasure, and he wanted nothing more than to please you day and night.
His hands went to your soft, full breasts, squeezing and kneading them, making you whimper and moan. He captured your nipple between his lips, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, his other hand moving your nightdress up your thighs.
"Elijah," you sighed, his fingers brushing over your wet panties, making you gasp and moan.
"Is my beautiful wife needy this morning?" he smirked, his fingers slipping past the lace.
"Yes," you panted, the pad of his index finger teasing your clit, making your body tremble.
"Good," he hummed, his mouth on your neck, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wet heat.
You were both so lost in pleasure that neither of you heard the sound of Bex running up the stairs, Klaus not far behind her.
Luckily the door was locked, Elijah knew better than that with a house full of children.
"Daddy? Mommy?" she asked softly, knocking on the door.
"One minute, my love," Elijah called, his voice strained, trying to keep himself from ravishing you.
"Okay," she said, not leaving, but sitting down outside the door.
"Come back downstairs Bex, your mom and dad are a bit busy at the moment," Klaus chuckled, his voice low.
"Are they playing hide and seek?" she asked.
"Something like that," he replied.
"Can we play after?" she asked.
"Absolutely, sweetheart. Now come on, let's finish our pancakes, you don't want Henry to eat them all," he chuckled, lifting her up and taking her back downstairs.
Elijah looked down at your flushed face, laughing at the situation.
"You are so mean," you groaned, pushing him off you.
"Mean? I was just getting started," he chuckled.
"I think our daughter needs us, and Henry has probably eaten all the pancakes by now," you laughed, getting up and smoothing out your dress.
"I'll finish what I started tonight," he smirked.
"Don't get your hopes up," you chuckled, kissing his cheek and getting dressed.
Elijah watched your every move, the way you walked, the glow on your skin, and how the dress clung to the curve of your stomach. You looked ethereal. He was completely mesmerized, and completely smitten.
You were looking at yourself in the mirror, the dress a little too tight, the buttons straining against your swollen breasts.
"We are going to have to get you new dresses," he chuckled, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you.
"This was my favorite," you pouted.
"We'll find you something that fits, don't worry," he said, kissing your shoulder.
"My back is killing me," you groaned, feeling a bit overwhelmed.
"Let me try something," he said, his hands dipping under your belly and lifting the bump, and you immediately felt relief. "Better?" he whispered against your skin.
You let out a happy groan and leaned into him, letting him hold you. His hands were gentle, his touch making the tension and aches melt away.
"Thank you," you sighed.
"You are very welcome," he hummed.
"Let's go eat, I'm absolutely starving," you laughed, kissing him and taking his hand.
"Let's," he smiled.
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When the two of you entered the dining room, Bex squealed and jumped out of her seat, running towards Elijah.
"Daddy I saved you a pancake, see, here it is," she said, holding it up.
"That's very sweet of you, darling," he said, bending down and picking her up.
She fed him the pancake, giggling and laughing, and Klaus was grinning from ear to ear, and he handed you a plate filled with an assortment of fruit, knowing it was your favorite.
"Thank you," you smiled, sitting down at the table, feeling your stomach rumble.
Hope was sitting with Henry, and they were coloring on their plates, syrup and chocolate spread everywhere, their laughter filling the room.
Bex was still cuddled up to Elijah, and his hand was on your stomach, and he was feeding you pieces of fruit, smiling at you.
"Your birthday is coming up little Bekah, what do you want as a present?" Klaus asked, ruffling her hair.
"Hmmm I don't know," she replied, deep in thought.
"Anything you want, sweetheart," Elijah smiled.
"Can we get a puppy?" Henry asked, excitedly.
"Not until you're old enough to take care of it," Elijah replied, ruffling his hair.
"What about a kitten?" Klaus asked, raising his eyebrow.
"I love kitties!" Hope squealed.
"Yes, yes, yes!" the children yelled.
"I'll have to think about it," Elijah chuckled.
"Please dad! It's all I want for my birthday," Bex begged, her big brown eyes looking at him, her little lip pouting.
"Don't let her pull that face, Elijah, it's not fair," Klaus laughed.
"Alright, alright, you can have a kitten," he replied, smiling at his little girl.
She squealed and threw her arms around him, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
"I promise I'll take care of it, daddy," she smiled.
"I'm sure you will," he replied, smiling and looking at you.
Klaus could see the exhaustion on your face, and the way you rubbed your stomach. You were tired and he could sense it, he knew you needed a break and some alone time with Elijah.
"Why don't we go out and play, little ones," he said, scooping up the children. "Let's all go to the park, we can even invite uncle Kol and aunt Rebekah," he suggested.
"Yay, yay, yay," the kids cheered.
"That sounds like a good idea," you replied, yawning and stretching your arms.
"Let's go, let's go," he said, wrangling the kids out of the compound.
Once they were gone, Elijah got up and started cleaning up the mess everyone had made. The compound was bursting at the seams with his family, and it was never quiet, but he enjoyed it, seeing the children run around and play, their laughter and their love filling the rooms.
You leaned back in your chair, admiring the sight of your husband working, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair falling over his forehead.
"You are gorgeous," you sighed, making him look up from the sink.
"As are you," he smirked.
"I can't believe you agreed to get Bex a kitten," you laughed.
"She can be very persuasive," he chuckled, drying his hands and coming to sit next to you.
"She has you wrapped around her finger," you smiled, cupping his cheek.
"Like I am not the same with her mother," he laughed.
"You have a point there," you grinned, kissing him.
He smiled against your lips, his hand moving down your body, resting on your stomach, letting out a contented sigh.
You mind wandered to all the things that needed to be done for the kids and around the house, you also hadn't even started preparing the nursery. You felt overwhelmed and the hormones weren't helping. On top of all that you had a party coming up.
"Stop thinking out loud," Elijah chuckled, pulling you closer.
"I can't help it, there is just so much to do," you groaned, burying your head in the crook of his neck. "I'm already behind, the baby will be here soon and I still haven't gotten anything ready."
"We still have a few months, everything will be fine, love. We will get the nursery ready, and the party will be wonderful, I'm sure of it," he replied, kissing your forehead.
His reassurances didn't help your worries, and you knew you were being unreasonable, but the stress was starting to take its toll.
"And now we have to go find a kitten, I don't even know where to start," you sighed, shaking your head.
"We can look online, we can go to a shelter, there's plenty of options," he replied, stroking your hair.
He was always so patient, so understanding, and you had no idea how he stayed so calm. You felt like you were going crazy.
"Do you even want a kitten?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I prefer them over dogs, although their hair does get everywhere," he chuckled, cupping your cheek. "They are excellent little predators, great for catching the mice that are running around this old place," he smirked.
"You're not wrong, the mice are awful," you laughed, remembering the time you were down in the wine cellar and one of them ran across your foot.
"Why don't you go rest, my love? I will clean up here and join you upstairs," he suggested.
You nodded and yawned, standing up and heading towards the stairs, Elijah's eyes on you the entire time.
The moment you got to the bed and laid down, your eyes closed and you were fast asleep.
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When you woke up you heard soft hammering coming from the other room, and you went to investigate, finding Elijah, shirtless and sweaty, fixing the nursery.
"I told you not to start without me," you sighed, crossing your arms and leaning against the door.
He looked over his shoulder, smiling at the sight of you, the sunlight coming in through the window and making you glow.
"It needed to be done. I'm almost finished," he replied, standing up and putting the crib together.
"You've been busy," you laughed, walking over and running your hands over the white, wooden furniture. He hand painted the walls and assembled everything, and you felt tears prickle at your eyes.
"It's beautiful," you sighed, looking around.
"Are you crying? Don't cry, darling," he said, pulling you close, your face pressed against his chest.
"I can't help it, these stupid hormones," you sniffled.
"It's alright," he laughed, stroking your hair.
You sighed and pulled away, taking in the nursery. There was a rocking chair and a bookshelf, filled with all the children's books the two of you had collected over the years.
"It looks wonderful," you said, smiling and wiping away your tears.
"Now, what would my lovely wife like to do for the rest of the afternoon? We have the place to ourselves, so I was thinking we could make good use of that large tub in our bathroom," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.
"You read my mind," you grinned.
You followed him back into your room, watching him fill up the tub with warm water, pouring in some bubble bath.
"Get undressed, darling," he smiled, taking his pants off and getting in the tub, moaning at the sensation of the water against his skin.
You slowly peeled off your dress, feeling a little self-conscious about your changing body. Here was your husband, eternally chiseled, and there you were, round and swollen.
"Come, let me take care of you," he whispered, seeing your hesitation.
You slipped in next to him, the water and bubbles a nice contrast to the heat of the day.
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest, placing his hands on the swell of your stomach.
"There, doesn't that feel nice?" he hummed.
"Very nice," you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and relaxing.
His hands roamed over your skin, his lips brushing over the curve of your neck.
"I've missed having you all to myself," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.
"Mmm," was all you could say, too relaxed and content to form words.
He gently cupped your breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you whimper and moan.
"Eli," you sighed, his touch sending shivers through your body.
"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice breathy.
You turned your head and looked at him, his gaze filled with lust and desire.
"Do you want to continue this on our bed?" You asked, your voice sultry.
"I'd love to," he replied, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk.
He helped you out of the tub, wrapping a towel around your body. Before suddenly scooping you up in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and laying you down.
"I can't wait until I'm not this enormous," you sighed, looking down at your swollen belly.
"You're not enormous, you're beautiful, and absolutely radiant," he replied, hovering over you, his hand gently resting on your stomach.
You couldn't help but smile, and the tears started rolling down your cheeks.
"Don't cry again, my love," he chuckled.
"I can't help it! Just ignore me," you said, wiping the tears away.
"As if that is possible," he laughed.
He kissed your forehead, moving his way down your body, placing his hands on your hips, his lips pressing soft kisses against the curve of your stomach.
"Elijah, you don't have to do that," you whispered, feeling a little shy.
"But I want to," he replied, kissing his way down, spreading your legs.
"Oh," was all you could say, his tongue swirling over your clit, one hand on your inner thigh, the other resting on your stomach.
He hummed and moaned, the vibrations making you gasp, and arch your back. He could tell you were sensitive, and he was gentle, taking his time.
You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging a little, making him moan and pick up the pace.
" 'lijah," you panted, feeling the pleasure coil in your core.
You couldn't even see him over the swell of your stomach, but you could feel him, and the noises he was making were sending you into overdrive.
"Fuck, don't stop," you gasped, the orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded.
Elijah was enjoying himself, the taste of you on his tongue, the noises you were making, and the sight of you coming apart, was driving him crazy.
You tugged on his hair, pulling his face away, the sensations becoming too much, and he crawled up your body, kissing your stomach as he moved.
"Did you enjoy that, darling?" He asked, kissing you and tasting yourself on his tongue.
"Mmm yes, very much," you hummed, pushing on his chest so he laid back.
He watched you move, a smirk on his face, his pupils blown. You sat on his thighs, stroking him, seeing his abs tense and relax, and he let out a long, deep moan.
"You are such a good father and husband, always going above and beyond for us," you said, leaning down and licking his length. "Let me show you how much I appreciate you,"
You leaned down and teased his head with your tongue, enjoying the string of curses that came tumbling from his mouth.
A soft hum escaped you as you slowly, and carefully, sucked on the head, teasing and tasting.
"Love, you are exquisite," he groaned, burying his fingers in your hair.
You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, letting him move at the pace he desired. All you wanted to do was please him, you loved when his voice would crack from pleasure and the way his fingers would tug on your hair.
"Come here," he said, cupping your cheek.
You pulled off of him with a pop, moving to sit on top of him, kissing him and grinding against his length.
"Mmm, I could do this forever," you hummed, biting his bottom lip and tugging.
He ran his hands up and down your back, nibbling at your shoulder, suckling marks into your skin.
Your swell was pressed against his abs, and he could feel every slight movement, enjoying the sight of you rolling your hips.
He guided you down onto his cock, the sheets bunched up around the two of you, and he rolled his hips, his hands gripping your ass.
"You are stunning," he murmured, kissing the valley between your breasts.
His lips brushed over your nipples, sucking, his teeth grazing them, his groans vibrating through your body.
"Eli- stop, they are too sensitive," you panted, running your nails over his skin, leaving bright red scratches.
"Sorry, love," he replied, grinning at the sting of your nails.
He did most of the work, gently rocking you in a steady rhythm, and the two of you moaned, the pleasure coursing through your bodies, his lips brushing your neck.
It was a slow, hot and steamy fuck, you felt like your body was on fire, the sweat and heat radiating off the two of you.
You leaned forward a little, allowing Elijah to get a little more friction, his hips moving faster, the both of you panting and moaning.
"Ah- Elijah, I'm-," you panted against his lips.
You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you came undone, clenching around him.
Elijah followed suit, the sensation of your orgasm bringing him to the edge.
He cupped the back of your neck, bringing you down for a kiss, and the two of you hummed, content and sated, basking in the afterglow.
"I wish we could stay like this," you sighed, nuzzling against him.
He laughed, and gently rolled you onto your side, pulling out of you and tucking you against his chest, both of you smiling like idiots.
"I love you," he said, stroking your hair.
"I love you too," you whispered, resting your head on his arm, letting the world melt away for just a few minutes.
Elijah watched you drift off to sleep, a small smile on his face. He kissed your forehead and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being next to you.
It was days like these that made him wonder what he did to deserve it. That perhaps there was some sort of higher power that had guided him to you, that brought him such profound peace and happiness after centuries of darkness.
You mumbled and cuddled up against him, he placed his hand on your belly, rubbing it with his thumb, thinking about how lucky he was.
He was living a life he never thought he would have, a family of his own, one he created. He didn't know what was waiting for him after he was done with this life, but he hoped you would be there with him.
In the next life, and all the ones after that.
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I've gotten a few dm's about my tags not working (yay) so let me know if its still a problem, I just re-tagged all of you so hopefully that solved it ♡
Also! If you wish to be removed from the tag list just send me a dm, you won't hurt my feelings (it's okay if you got sick of me ~lol) I don't wish to hold you hostage ♡
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councilofcastamere · 2 days
Text
ADORNMENTS | AEMOND TARGARYEN X DAERON’S TWIN!READER
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a b r i d g e m e n t : your older brother Aemond loves to shower you with gifts. one day, you’ll pay him back.
TW: smut, targcest, oral (f receiving) penetration, riding, missionary, childhood love,
A/N: reblogs but most of all comments are immensely appreciated!
Aemond couldn’t remember the day when you drew your first breath alongside your twin brother, Daeron. All he knows is that the Gods had shined light upon him that day.
He had gotten blessed with the only one that could have ever drawn his attention like it did.
Like you did.
4-year-old Aemond witnessed the sunlight shining upon your face as Queen Alicent flaunted you in her arms, Daeron held in the King’s arms.
Your laughs could only be translated into melodies as they entered the prince’s ears. Your skin was almost porcelain and your eyes were peacefully closed. You were wrapped around the purple blanket as if you were a present.
His thoughts felt overpowered by a desire to hold you. He climbed up next to his Queen Mother and tugged on your blanket, signalling to hold the new blessing that came into his life.
“Aemond wishes to hold his new sister,” Alicent remarked, smiling as she looked down upon him. She very carefully positioned you into his small arms, staying close as to keep an eye.
“A family man, he will be.” the king laughed, very carefully swinging Daeron in his arms.
Aemond, ignoring the speaking of his parents, wrapped his small arms around your small body, regarding you as if you were a gem to keep in his palm. He held you closer to his chest, and brought his lips to your forehead, before hesitantly returning you to your mother.
And as you turned older, you grew only closer to him. It was as if he were your shadow, and you were his. You would do everything together.
He was infatuated with you, always opting to bring you your favourite pieces of jewelry, your favourite silk dresses and your favourite flowers.
Eventually, you shared your first kiss with him.
It was the hour of the owl, and you were holding a candle to your chest, waiting for the prince to sneak into your chambers. Your hair was tied up into braids, which made for a beautiful updo.
“Sister.” you heard a voice. it was Aemond’s.
But it didn’t sound all too delighted.
“Aemond?” you ask softly, observing him sitting on the edge of your bed. “What happened?”
He didn’t wish to tell you, but your angelic voice compelled him as if he was answering the gods.
“…they gave me a pig.” he murmured, passionately angry. his fists clenched at his side and he didn’t dare look you in the eye.
You knew what he meant. You always pitied having him watch you ride starfyre. You only prayed he could get one of his own.
You crawled over to him, his back facing you. You delicately rested your chin on his shoulder, placing a kiss on his cheek.
“If a dragon doesn’t like you, I don’t like a dragon,” you murmured, whispering into his ear. “You over any dragon, big brother.”
Just then, his head turned to you. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. You felt your throat go dry, and you liked the feeling. You liked having him look at you like that.
You closed your eyes, and the second you did, you felt his slightly chapped lips on yours. You savoured the feelings for a couple of seconds, before attempting to brush your hair out of your face. His hand eventually came up to your rosy cheeks, cupping at your jaw, while your hands settled themselves on top of his unoccupied hand.
You very gently pulled away, smiling at his lips.
From that day on, it was sealed.
He was infatuated with you, always opting to bring you your favourite jewelries, your favourite silk dresses and your favourite flowers.
You loved it, and as you blossomed into a woman of age, you remained appreciative of his efforts.
But you wanted more. You wondered if he loved you so much, why hasn’t he bedded you yet? It made you insecure. What if the kisses mean nothing, and he only sees you as a sister, not good enough to bed?
You didn’t wish to come to conclusions, or accuse him of anything, but you only prayed you were able to ask him without feeling humiliated.
After all, what if he felt pressured after you asked him, and it won’t be as good?
You wrote all of your concerns down on a small paper, your quill clumsily spilling over some of the characters. You carefully folded it into a heart and left it under your pillow.
Which was a mistake.
Imagine Aemond’s shock when he came into your chambers to place your newest present under your pillow, only to find the paper.
Imagine his guilt as he reads how his little dragon has been feeling neglected.
And imagine his lust at your words, having everything you wished he’d do to you written down on the little paper.
You were inexperienced and some of the things made no sense, sure, but he got the idea of what you wished for.
So he did the only thing he knew how to do. Wait for a better time. He carefully stuffed the paper back under your pillow, and the present back in his hand.
With a swift turn, he departed your chambers, his golden locks cascading behind him. He’d have to make you see his love, sooner or later.
And that evening, you did not notice anything amiss when you strolled inside, your handmaidens at your side.
You opted for a pretty green dress, your hair beautifully done into a loose braid. You wore your green earrings to match your gown. Your nails were washed and clipped thoroughly, and you insisted on a clean bath before all of it.
“I’ll speak to you later!” you called out to your handmaiden as she left you in privacy. you always knew where Aemond would be waiting for you. you loved times like these, where you could dress that gorgeously only to be with your pretty big brother in your chambers.
You quickly settled on your bed, reading a small book Aemond got you from the Vale about different mountains. Aemond always knew what you liked, to your delight. You’d even wondered if he had any hidden presents here.
Time felt like an eternity as you waited for Aemond, and you began to doubt his arrival. Your eyelids began to close but you were insistent on waiting some more moments.
You tried to, but your slumber overtook you, and you ultimately lost yourself to the night.
Only then had he come in.
You had drifted up to slumber, your beautiful gown lifted past your hips. Silly girl, he thought, watching your glistening cunt spread out into the cold air. Your beautiful eyes were closed, hair sprawled all through your silken pillows, and soft sighs leaving your lips.
You looked so beautiful, the true image of Valyrian beauty.
His footsteps just forced him to close the proximity. It was out of his control.
And as you lost yourself in slumber, you missed the way his hands slid up and down your beautiful legs, lifting one as he pressed a kiss to the heel of your foot.
No, that wasn't enough. A kiss on the ankle will do.
Perhaps a kiss on the calf.
And he couldn't make any excuses any more, his lips hastily trailing up to your upper thighs, his hands hastily thrown over his shoulders. His mouth pressed an open kiss to your cunt, losing himself in the heavenly taste of your confined flesh.
You shifted slightly, your beautiful back arching as you let out a sleepy moan. Poor girl, you probably thought it was a dream. A mere reflection of the desire that occupied your mind.
Aemond was well aware of your feelings. Your beautiful gaze always drifted onto him, sitting on his lap as he read you a book about Valyrian gods, his clothed cock rubbing against your pretty clothed cunt every time you tried to read for yourself.
So, who was he to not reward you for your patience? His tongue gently penetrated your hole, licking all around the throbbing beauty. Your beautiful lips made the sweet melodic noises he'd soon become addicted to, his tongue poking your hole faster, causing you to squirm and your hips to buck into his face.
"Ae-amond?" you groggily whispered, gasping at the sight of him between your legs, his lips glistening with your juices.
"Hush, sweet sister," he replied, kissing all around your thighs and the lips of your cunt. "It feels... pleasurable, does it not?"
All you could do was nod, too tired and too riled up to fight your common sense. You cracked a smile, your feet gently pulling him closer as he kept ravishing your swollen hole.
"Aemy.." you whisper, bucking your hips. "What if mother comes to bid me goodnight?"
He hummed, his tongue working on devouring your pink delight. His hands squeeze both of your thighs.
"How much I do not care," he uttered, a hand rising to grope your soft breast. "I could die a happy death in between these legs."
"But then you wouldn't see me again." you chuckled, bucking your hips into his face. his smirk widened as his one eye trained on yours as if it was a hypnosis.
you cried out as his tongue lapped at your folds, quickly flipping the two of you so you could do it at a pace of your own. your hands gripped the headboard, and you brought yourself to move your hips as if it were a swing.
his eye was still on yours, and under your folds, you could still feel his smirk.
"ae-aemy." you pant, moving your hips in a circular motion. "I-I..."
"I know, sweet sister," he replied, gently lifting you off him. you whined at the loss of proximity and felt the cold air on your bare skin. "The best thing hasn't happened yet, however."
you could only manage whines and moans as he guided you backwards, your cunt moving from his mouth to his cock. your hands held on to his shoulder, your thumbs slightly pressing into the sides of his neck. you felt the warmth of his hands on your hip.
"Careful..." he warned, slowly easing you down on his cock. you felt the thick length slowly opening up your virgin hole, your face red with unease.
his eye flickered up to you, and he let out a smirk as you attempted to sink to his cock, his tip kissing your cervix.
his hands slid up from your thighs to your round ass, firmly massaging the skin. you looked at him, and pressed your lips to his as you let the feeling sink in.
“Do I start to move?” you murmured against his lips, face uneasy with pain. “It hurts, Aemy.”
“I know, my sweet.” he whispered against your lips, lips trailing across your jaw. “It hurts for a maiden’s first time.”
You nodded, and could only bite your lip as you slowly moved up, with his hands shifting to your hips, massaging circles into them.
Aemond only wished he could take it faster, to finally feel himself marking your womb as his. He had loved you for years and absolutely hated the fact you did not feel loved. At the end of the night, he decided, you would feel loved.
You slowly moved yourself back down, and you winced in pain. You locked eyes with Aemond, only to find his eyes closed. He pulled your body down to press your lips against him, your moans of pain muffled.
Your agony slowly began to dissipate into pleasure, and you could feel the prince’s soft moans as he thrusts his hips up, filling you up. You moaned in pleasure as you bounced, your hands on his chest.
His veiny hands reached up to your hair, undoing the hair your handmaidens had spent an eternity on. It allowed for your beautiful locks to cascade down, covering your pink nipples.
“Aemy…” you moaned, breathless gasps leaving your mouth as his skin slapped against yours, your round breasts bouncing a sight for sore eyes. “I-I love you. Too much. Only y-you.”
His eye snapped open at that, and he quickly flipped you two over, towering over you. His lips marked your neck as you writhed and arched. His hands groped your breasts, moving your hair out of the way.
“Shh, sweetness,” he whispered, his nose brushing against yours. “I know. I know.”
His large girth split you in half and had you gripping the sheets, your legs widening even more open.
He could only let out moans and groans, concentrating on filling you and making you feel pleasure.
“One day, we will do this to bear children,” he tells you, kissing along the side of your face. “You will become my wife, and always stay at my side.”
You could only smile, rolling your hips up.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked with a slight grin, kissing your chest and collarbone. “Waiting on me each day, each night. Wrapped in my sheets and eager to welcome me.”
You nodded eagerly, his hands pushing your knees to your chest. Your face was red, with tears streaming down your beautiful eyes.
You panted and kept panting as you felt a knot tighten up in your stomach. You breathed heavily, your walls clenching around his length.
“Aemy!” you cried out, thrown between the sheets as you wildly threw your head back, hips bucking ferociously against him.
You bit your lip, face red and teary as you came close, holding him closer to you.
“Let it out,” he murmured, nose rubbing against your neck. “Listen to me.”
You obliged, and as the knot in your stomach snapped, sticky white juices came sprawling out, clenching around and milking his meat.
His eye rolled back at the feeling, and he let out some more thrusts, before slowing down immensely and pulling out, frowning at the loss of proximity.
“Sit still,” he ordered, and you did as he asked, while you felt your chest being painted with his creamy juices.
“Now…” he panted, pulling you to lie against his chest. “Do you still doubt my love? Do you still wish for me to prove my love?”
“Hm?” you shot up, heart jolting at his question. did he read the paper under your bed? gods, you could have died right there.
“Hm?” Aemond mimicked you, placing a finger under your chin and lifting it to make you look at him. “I don’t wish for you to ever doubt my love. Ever.”
You only nodded, kissing down his chest causing his heart to soften.
Aemond had finally bedded you, and you couldn’t wait to repeat it all.
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pinkflower2003 · 3 days
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Part 2 to the max fic inspired by the smallest man who’s ever lived?
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“He Just Comes Running Over To Me”
Loss of my life part 2
a/n: this has been heavily requested, but honestly this is the best I could come up with...
Your heart pounded in your chest as you walked away from Max, his words echoing in your mind. You had to stay strong; you couldn’t let him see how much he still affected you. Your team quickly surrounded you, ushering you to your private dressing room. Once inside, you sank onto the couch, your emotions overwhelming you.
Daniel had followed you, his face filled with concern. “Y/N, are you okay?” he asked softly, sitting beside you.
You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “No, Danny, I’m not. How could he say all those things now, after everything? It’s too late.”
Daniel put his arm around you, offering what comfort he could. “I know it’s hard, but you’re stronger than this. You’ve got so much ahead of you, and you deserve someone who’s all in from the start.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “I just need to focus on my career. That’s what I need to do.”
The days following the race were a blur of emotions and activities. You threw yourself into your work, writing new songs and planning your next tour. But Max’s words kept creeping into your mind, making it hard to concentrate.
One evening, you received a call from Kelly. Surprised, you answered, not knowing what to expect.
“Hi, Y/N. It’s Kelly. I hope it’s okay that I’m calling you, I got your number off Max’s phone” she began, her tone tentative.
“Hi, Kelly. It’s fine. What’s going on?” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
“I wanted to talk to you about Max,” she said, and you could hear the nervousness in her voice. “I know this is awkward, but I think you deserve to know the truth.”
Your heart sank. “What do you mean?”
“Max and I... we’re not really together. We’re friends, and he’s been helping me out. Her father left us, and Max offered to step in, but he’s not her stepdad. He’s just helping us out because he’s a good person, and it comes across that we’re dating in the media so it’s just a bit easier to explain” she said.
You were stunned. “So, you’re not in a relationship?”
“No, we’re not. Max has been struggling a lot since you left. He talks about you all the time. He regrets what happened, Y/N. He really does,” Kelly said softly.
You took a deep breath, trying to process this new information. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I can see how much he loves you. He made a mistake, but he’s willing to do anything to make it right. I thought you should know,” she said.
“Thank you, Kelly,” you replied, your voice shaking. “I appreciate you telling me.”
After hanging up, you sat in silence, your mind racing. Could you forgive Max? Could you give him another chance after everything that had happened?
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A few days later, you found yourself standing outside Max’s apartment. You had thought long and hard about what Kelly had said, and you knew you needed to talk to him. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.
Max opened it, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw you. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice filled with hope and uncertainty.
“I needed to talk to you,” you said, stepping inside. “Kelly told me everything. About you and Penelope, about how you’ve been feeling.”
Max nodded, closing the door behind you. “I’m glad she did. I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but I didn’t know how.”
You looked into his eyes, seeing the regret and longing there. “Max, you really hurt me. I wanted a future with you, and you made it clear you didn’t want that.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry. I was scared. I didn’t realise what I had until I lost it,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “But I want to make it right. I want a future with you, Y/N. Kids, a family, everything. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him. “Max, it’s not going to be easy. You broke my heart.”
“I know, and I’m willing to work for it. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back,” he said, stepping closer to you. “I love you, Y/N. I always have, and I always will.”
You took a deep breath, your heart aching with the weight of your decision. “Okay, Max. Let’s take it one step at a time. But you need to understand, this is your last chance.”
Max nodded, relief and determination filling his eyes. “I understand. I won’t let you down, I promise.”
As he pulled you into his arms, you felt a glimmer of hope. It would take time and effort, but maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other.
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The anticipation in the arena was electric. The crowd buzzed with excitement, eagerly awaiting your performance. Backstage, you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the night ahead. Tonight was special. You had invited the F1 crew to your concert, since they seemed to enjoy your performance so much at the last race. You knew Max and some of the other drivers would be in the audience, and you had a setlist full of songs that were deeply personal, songs that told your story with Max.
As the lights dimmed and the opening chords of your first song played, you stepped onto the stage, the crowd erupting into cheers. You spotted Max in the VIP suite, surrounded by his friends and teammates, their faces lit with excitement and curiosity.
You began with "The 1," a song about lost love and the one who got away.
"I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit
Been saying 'yes' instead of 'no'
I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn't though..."
Your voice carried the emotions of your journey, and you saw Max's expression shift as he recognised the story within the lyrics. The drivers around him were nodding along, clearly enjoying the music, but Max's eyes were glued to you.
Next, you performed "All Too Well," the iconic ten-minute version. The lyrics poured out of you with raw emotion, capturing the highs and lows of your relationship with Max.
"You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath
Sacred prayer and we'd swear to remember it all too well..."
You watched as Max's face reflected the memories of your time together. The pain, the joy, the love – it was all there, laid bare in the music.
During "Enchanted," a song about the magic of meeting someone special, you glanced at Max, and for a moment, it felt like no one else was in the room.
"This night is sparkling, don't you let it go
I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home..."
Max's gaze softened, and you saw a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was as if the music was weaving a connection between you two once again.
During the break between songs, you took a moment to interact with the crowd. Spotting a group of kids near the front, you crouched down, reaching out to them. Their faces lit up with excitement as you spoke to them, making them feel special. You even gave them a few pieces of the costume jewelry you wore, them screaming as you did so. The arena filled with joy and laughter, and you saw Max watching with admiration.
The final song of the night was "The Alchemy," a new song you had written, encapsulating your journey with Max – the heartbreak, the growth, and the possibility of something new and beautiful rising from the ashes.
“Shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads
Beer sticking to the floor
Cheers chanted, cause they said
There was no chance, trying to be
The greatest in the league
Where's the trophy?
He just comes running over to me.”
As you sang, you poured your heart into every word, feeling the transformative power of your emotions. The audience was captivated, and you could feel the energy in the room shift.
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The concert ended to thunderous applause, and you headed backstage to catch your breath. Moments later, you were escorted to the VIP suite where the drivers and their girlfriends were gathered. The room was filled with laughter and chatter, but as soon as you entered, all eyes turned to you.
Max was the first to move. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, his eyes locked on yours. Without a word, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, right there in front of everyone. The room fell silent, then erupted in cheers and applause.
You pulled back, slightly breathless, and saw the love and determination in Max's eyes. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered. "You're incredible."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you smiled. "Thank you, Max. That means everything to me."
The drivers and their girlfriends crowded around, congratulating you and praising your performance. You felt a warm hand on your shoulder and turned to see Daniel grinning at you.
"You were amazing out there, Y/N," he said. "You really are something special."
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vivwritesfics · 1 day
Note
ok now that i got confirmation u like 5sos... may i pls request down bad rookie logan based on try hard 🤪
Noelle I love you but i couldn't work a song fic for this one, tried it from several angles, so i am gifting you an angsty bestie logan thing
idk if Fort Lauderdale has a beach, now it does
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"I hate it when you're not here," she said down the phone as she laid back on her bed.
Her alarm clock sitting on the dresser flashed a ridiculous time in the morning, but she knew that wasn't the time where Logan was. The exhaustion was worth it to get to speak to him.
"Yeah, I know," he replied, sounding just as tired as she was. But this was because he had just woken up, not that he hadn't yet slept (like her). "But I'm coming back soon."
"Home."
But it wasn't his home, was it? Not anymore. No, his home was shitty shitty England, wasn't it?
Florida didn't feel right without him there.
But he was out living his dream, so she couldn't bring herself to hate him. She could never bring herself to hate him.
Her favourite time of year was when Logan came home. For the Miami Grand prix, for Christmas, for her birthday. Yeah, he'd never miss her birthday, if he could help it. It had been that way since his karting days, but back then his parent's used to pay for him to come home. Now he could afford it himself.
She let out a yawn, one she hoped he couldn't hear.
"Jesus, what time is it there?"
She didn't answer it right away, but Logan worked it out in his head. "Three in the morning, right?" He asked and she let out a hum. "Shit, go to sleep, you psycho," he said through a laugh.
She rolled her eyes at him, but she couldn't hide her smile. Not that she needed to hide her smile on the other side of the world. "I'll be awake for the race," she mumbled, her voice groggy.
"Just sleep," he said, voice soft. But it always was with her.
This was the way it always was around the Miami Grand Prix. She had the day marked in the calendar, and it couldn't come sooner.
Logan was all she had in Florida. It was pathetic, wasn't it? That he was her only friend in Florida. Without him there, she was lost. Working, sleeping. Working, sleeping. Working, sleeping.
But then Logan was back. Her best friend had returned. He was there before the rest of the grid, spent as much time as he could in Fort Lauderdale with his family.
And, of course, her.
His best friend, the one he had left behind to go out and live his life.
He'd missed her, missed her so fucking much. But he was busy. He had his family to spend time with, had a race to prepare for. No matter how hard he tried, he just didn't have time.
And that fucking sucked.
Oh well, at least their phone calls were at normal times.
(Not oh well, she really wanted to see him, really wanted to spend time with her best fucking friend).
And then Logan got mad. Maybe she was trying too hard to spend some time with him. He was a busy guy. If he could have, he would have made time for her. But he absolutely did not have time for her. And her constant insisting was getting grating.
It was stress, too. That was what had Logan shouting at her down the phone. 
It wasn't taken well, to say the least. She hung up on him, tears springing to her eyes. Fucking asshole. All she wanted to do was spend fucking time with him. Fuck that fucking asshole.
She ended up at the beach, with almost no idea how she got there. The beach was empty as she sat in the sand, but that wasn't surprising. Even spring breakers didn't stay on the beach this late. But there was something about staring at the waves as they crashed against the sand.
Of course, Logan felt incredibly guilty about losing his shit at her. He stared down at his phone for a good minute before he tried to call her back.
He tried again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again.
Eventually he bit the bullet, got into his car and headed to his house. He didn't see her own car in the drive, but didn't let that bother him as he climbed out and knocked on the door.
He should have guessed that she wasn't there. It made sense the more he thought about it, where else was her car?
If her parents knew where she was, they would have told him. But Logan could take a guess. He climbed back into his car, backed out of the drive, and headed to the beach.
When Logan saw her, his heart dropped.
She hadn't done this in years, and it had never been his fault. When they were kids he'd sit there with her. He'd let her sit with her head on his shoulder, he'd drive her home after. And now she was there and it was his fault. 
Slowly, Logan climbed out of his car. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he headed towards her.
Even kicking the sand, she didn't hear him. Not until he was sitting down beside her, copying her pose. Logan opened his mouth, ready to apologise.
But he didn't get that far.
"Do you ever feel so... out of place?" She wasn't looking at him, instead looking at the reflection of the moon on the water. "Like everyone else has left you behind?"
Logan sucked in a breath. After a year on the grid, it was a feeling he knew all too well. Hesitantly, he placed his arms over her shoulders. "Maybe you should leave Fort Lauderdale." His voice came out as more of a mumble, a struggle to hear. "You know, travel for a while."
She sucked in a shuddering breath. "Where the hell would I go, Logan?" She spat. But her head fell forward. "I didn't mean to say it like that."
"No, it's okay." he squeezed her tighter. "You could come stay in London with me, come travelling to races with me. God knows I miss the fuck out of you when you're not here."
The noise she made was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "Come stay with you? Are you serious?"
He nodded.
She leaned back, digging her palms into the sand. "Okay, Logie Bear, I'll take you up on it. Just... try not to fall in love with me."
It was a joke, of course it was a joke. Why else would she have said it like that?
"No promises," he mumbled, voice barely audible as he pulled her closer.
If you enjoyed this, please feel free to buy me a coffee
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li0nn3stuff · 19 hours
Text
Kiddo
Chapter six
Kiddo masterlist
English is not my first language, be kind.
Modern!Older!Aemond x Modern!Younger!Reader
•Chapter warnings: obsession, stalking, talking of bullying, fingering•
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“Have you seen him?” The girl says excitedly to her friend, looking at the new year boy.
“Yes! What do you think happened to his eye?” She responded giggling.
“I don’t know, but whatever it was, if it left such a scar, it must have been really bad.”
“I kinda like the eyepatch though, it makes him sexy…” The girl smirked as she looked intently at the boy with silver hair passing by the hallway.
“Oh, he’s hot. I would totally fuck him.”  The girl smirked in return.
“I’d rather have him fuck me. I have a feeling that he is crazy good.”
Two months after the encounter.
Aemond smirked, looking at his phone, his girl had been texting a lot, since they’ve been friends.
Surely, it’s not how he would have liked to have her, but if nothing, Aemond was patient.
He had his own plan to get his girl only to himself.
On his side, he had his advantage.
She kept texting him about douchebags making fun of her at school.
Some, that he would have loved to rip apart with his bare hands.
Like the guy that was on a date with her, or the girls she was with the day he first saw her. They just wanted to humiliate her somehow. He reassured her with his own stories, advising her how to act on those occasions.
All lies.
He was the popular boy when he was young, despite what he feared as a child, when his scar was still fresh, his marked face brought him nothing but popularity and girls.
Boy’s feared him, the mix of his stoic face, scar, and powerful family apparently intimidated the others.
He lost his virginity pretty soon, and he never stopped fucking ever since, his last year in high school he even fucked in the teacher room, without getting caught.
He fucked a teacher once.
He was a fucking king in in school. He was the one humiliating others whenever he wanted to.
But she didn’t need to know that, did she?
He was only doing her a favor, offering er his comprehension, his help.
There was no way she could find that out anyway.
-I could come to visit you at work?-
He  smiled at the new text on his phone. God, she was just perfect. 
Aemond was her only friend, and that always made her so eager.
She texted him a lot, day and night, she asked to see him more than one time a day, and if he couldn’t, she then asked if she could facetime him, or at least call him.
He liked the calls, he had the freedom to be hard rock or even fisting his cock as she spoke. He rarely accepted video calls, but sometimes he took the risk, she was just so innocent, he could do everything anyway.
“There were a few tomatoes.” She smiles happily as she turn her phone to show him her little garden, bending down to get at the same level of the plant, making the cleavage her large chemise more evident, he caught a glimpse of her bra, holding those breasts he would want to squeeze in his hands, as he slipped his cock between–
“Can you see?” She asked excitedly. He cleared his throat and nodded, as he brushed his cock with his hand.
“Yes, I can see.” He answered. She smiled even more and stood back up. 
“Rory says he wants a salad with my tomatoes.” She says as she looks down to walk without stepping on any plant. Rory was one of her foster brothers, he was five, and greedy.
“Of course he does.” He answered as he carefully unbuttoned his pants, drawing down the fly. He sighed silently, when he didn’t have his breeches restrain his cock.
She chuckled at his remark, looking up at the phone, at him. He felt a rush of adrenaline, lust, going up his spine then straight to his cock, at her looking at him, oblivious of his actions.
“I could bring you some salad at work for lunch, if you want to.” She proposed.
“Mh… What are you wearing, you could get your clothes dirty in the garden.” He slipped his hand in his boxers, caressing directly his cock, letting out a small groan.
“Don’t worry, today I just came to check.” She raised her phone up her head, so her entire figure would be visible on the screen. She was wearing a big white men's button down shirt, and a long wavy white skirt. Her hair was loose and wavy due to the braids she kept during the night.
“So what do you say?” She asked again. Looking at him.
“Another time, kiddo. Tell me about your day.” He leaned back in his chair, his office door was locked, but it was early anyway, so he tugged his boxers down as she started speaking.
-You want so much to see me at work?-
He texted back, smirking to himself. He would have loved to show her around, his pretty girl, have her watching him while he works.
Smell her scent in his office, her real scent, not that vanilla shit he bought.
-You say you work in a high lever of one of the skyscapes, I want to see it! :) -
She texted quickly back, and he chuckled, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment. Did she light the height? He could have brought her to the heavens, if she would just ask him.
-You’re supposed to be at school, kiddo, why are you texting me?-
-Texting you is funnier.-
He groaned as he saw her text, putting aside his phone, and trying to force himself to ignore the urge to go to her school, find her class and fuck her on her table with the whole class looking at them.
He could picture it so well.
How she would ask him to go somewhere else because she’s shy about her body, and mostly because she doesn’t want to be seen or heard.
She would beg him so sweetly, looking at him with her eyes, glossy from tears. And how could he have stopped at such a sight? 
-So? Can I come visit you?- 
His phone turned on at her text. He looked at it for a while, then he decided to finally text it to her.
-My place is at a higher level. You want to come there?-
He could feel his heart in his throat as he stared at his phone screen. When she started typing, he felt like fainting.
-Deal, time?-
He wanted to jump from his chair and scream. He had her.
He was going to have her in his apartment.
He chuckled, thinking of how he could turn this story into some kind of Raperonzolo’s story, lock her in his apartment, maybe even tied to his bed.
So he could worship her naked body from the moment he came home, untill he left, first with his tongue, then his fingers, and then he would finally fuck her to madness.
He honestly didn’t know why she trusted him.
He was only getting worse since he met her. 
He stalked her less, that is true, but only because she gave updates to him herself. 
To be fair, he kept stalking her the first few days, but only to be completely sure his girl would never lie to him.
And she never did.
Because she was his perfect good girl.
He was trying really hard to wash the smirk away from his face as he drove to her school. He just couldn’t. 
He was going to have her in his apartment, just him and her. 
He risked a hard on every time he thought about it, his mind playing infinite scenarios of how he could take her, trick her, use her, and she wouldn’t even realize it, she would think it’s completely normal.
He had to take lots of deep breaths, in order to contain all those freaky, but tempting thoughts.
He will be kind, gentle.
Just for her, he could do it.
Well, he could try.
He hoped.
He parked close to her high school and texted her that he was waiting for her describing his location so it would have been easier for her to find him.
He saw her approaching him a few minutes later, and he leaned to open the passenger door for her.
As much as he would have liked to get out of his car, greet her with a small kiss on her head perhaps, he couldn’t risk it. 
His… unusual appearance always made him pretty noticeable, he wouldn’t want anyone to remember him, nor recognise him.
She quickly slipped inside his car and sat on the passenger seat. Smiling softly at him.
“Ehy.” She said, looking briefly at him. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused by her eyes, that had a hint of sadness in them.
“What happened, kiddo?” He asked, feeling a hint of rage burning in his chest at the idea that she had probably been bullied again. She shook her head as she put on her belt.
“Can I tell you later? I– I just want to go away from here…” She mumbled, her cheeks already getting red from embarrassment. He hesitated a moment, looking at her, unsure if to insist or just drive off.
He sighed and looked away, turning on the engine and driving off.
“I… suppose your day at school was not easy.” He muttered, glancing at her. She was staring outside the window, enjoying her view.
“No, actually not, it wasn’t.” She said softly.
“Tell me what happened.” He didn’t want it to sound so much like a harsh order, but apparently, he just couldn’t help it.
“It just feels strange to tell you in person now…” She tried to switch the main subject. “I’m so used to telling it to you by phone or call, it seems almost… strange in an intimidating way to tell you now in person. “ She explained. Aemond sighed as he nodded, trying to be comprehensive, even if he just wanted her to just tell him what happened. He drove off a bit faster, trying to get home as quickly as he could.
She was wearing one of her usual skirts, white, long to her ankles, and a thigh white shirt, but with a black cardigan over it, some black boots at her feet.
He wanted to put his hand on her thigh, squeeze it, and feel the softness on her skin.
“What do you want for dinner?” He asked then, his eye constantly on the road, he won’t force her to talk now, he will do it in his apartment, when she’ll be more comfortable.
“Whatever you’ll like will be fine.” She smiled softly at him.
“Would you rather order a take out?” He asked then, and he saw with the corner of his eye that she shook her head.
“Oh, no, why? We can cook for ourselves!” She said he could hear the excitement in her voice. “Oh, well, if you… I mean, we can go buy groceries if we need to, or–”
“No, it’s fine, I have everything.” He cut off short. 
“Then we can cook, we can make something basic, quick… I’m already hungry.” She smiled and chuckled. He nodded, his mind picturing them cooking.
Like a couple. 
She would be by his side, chopping some vegetables, he would pass behind her, tease her with some kisses on her neck, pressing her against the counter.
He would press his head against the back of hers, looking down as he pushed his hips against her, letting her feel how hard he was for her. She would whine sweetly, so innocently, as he would start grinding against her, his hands quickly wrapping around her, caressing her belly and going down to– 
“Even pasta is fine.” She said again, leading him out of his thoughts. He cleared his voice as he moved on his seat, adjusting his position, as he felt his cock twitch.
“Pasta it is.” He agreed. She smiled again and went back on looking outside her window, as they approached his building. He parked the car and led her inside to the elevator. He didn’t try to stay too close, nor wanted his doorman to suspect anything, especially, because it would be the first time he saw him get in his apartment with such a girl at such an early hour.
Thankfully, she was too engrossed with the luxurious hall to actually talk to him, so they could pass for almost strangers, but then he led her to the elevator.
“What floor are you on?” She asked curiously, looking at the amount of buttons in the elevator, hovering her finger over them.
“Twenty two.” He said, and let her push it for him.
“It must be quite a view!” She said surprised, turning to look at him. His lips curved in a somewhat smile, as he nodded.
“Yes, it is indeed.” She smiled softly and waited for the elevator doors to open, jumping up and down on her tiptoes, impatient.
Once they got there, they entered his apartment.
“Wow!” She immediately commented. 
His house was quite modern, most of the walls were wide windows that gave a sight of the city, an open space for his living room kitchen and dining room, his bed and bathroom separated by a hallway. His house was modern, luxurious and elegant.
“Do you live here?” She asked as she watched around, mesmerized by the place.
“I do.” He asked, pleased by her reaction. She stopped and looked at him.
“It’s lovely. shall we cook now?”
As they ate, he tried to make her feel as comfortable as he could in his own house. Small chats were not really his thing. Chatting wasn’t his thing, unless it was for business.
“What happened today at school, kiddo? You still haven’t told me.” He asked as they moved from the table to the couch.
“It’s embarrassing.” She admitted as she rubbed her arm and sat on the couch in front of him.
“You’re embarrassed of telling me?” He raised his eyebrow, looking at her. “You can tell me anything” He sat back comfortably against the arm of the couch. He looked at her as she looked down and started playing with her fingers.
“We had a different lesson today at school…” She starts, and he calmly looks at her, letting her take her time to tell him. “We– we had a lesson about sexual education, and–” She took a deep breath, as Aemond felt that hot feeling on his chest again, anger.”Some of my classmates looked at me, laughing quietly, I– I don’t know, exactly why… but…” She paused again, and kept playing with her fingers.
“But?” He asked, leaning forward.
“But I–I think I can guess why? I– I mea, I’m not… really uhm– I have never.. I’m not familiar with… touch.” He felt like chuckling, but he dared not, especially considering the color of his girl’s face at the moment, red as a tomato.
“Touch. Touch like…?” He asked, a bit confused. She quickly shook her head.
“No, I mean, I obviously get touched! I–” She sighed and shyly put her hand on her arm, trying to prove herself. 
“Sexual touch?” He asked then, staring at her hand on his arm. He heard her gasp, and he raised his gaze at her, seeing her so red, he thought she would pass out.
“... yes…” She answered, ashamed.
“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know, kiddo?” He looked at her and gently brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You just need the right man, when you’ll feel ready.”
“I can0t really trust someone now, can I? I– I mean, I would like to… try new things, kiss someone maybe, but… how, how can I find the right person? You’re the only one I trust!” She pressed her hand on her face, and he smiled briefly.
“If you trust me, I can… help you?” He suggested. He knew she would have never thought bad about what he just said, but he had a clear plan in his mind. She looked at him between her fingers, surprised.
“Help… me?” She repeated.Aemond nodded again.
“You said you trust me.” He stated, and she nodded again, taking her hand off her face. “Then trust me now. Come, kiddo.” He sat right on the couch, and widened his legs, indicating her to sit between them. She looked at him for a moment, trying to understand if he really expected her to do it or not, but seeing his seriousness, she slowly stood up, and moved with her back in front of him, looking behind her as she sat on the couch between his legs.
“You can tell me to stop whenever you want to, okay kiddo?” He murmured in her ear from behind. He saw on the back of her neck and shoulders her goosebumps. “Just know… I’m doing this for you.” He put his hand on her shoulders, caressing her softly, letting his fingers trace imaginary lines on her soft skin, enjoying the contact for himself. He went down to her forearms and arms, ending on her hands.
She turned her head to the side to see him, her mouth slightly parted.
“Answer me, kiddo, I need your words.” His voice hoarse, as he intertwined his fingers with hers.
“O–okay…” She nodded as she uncertainty leaned her head back against his shoulder.
“This fine for you?” He asked as he kept brushing her fingers up and down her arms. She nodded again, closing her eyes. He slowly moved his fingers from her hand to her thighs, just caressing her from over the skirt.
He heard her take a deep shaky breath.
“I’m gonna show you how a man should make you feel, kiddo, okay? If he doesn't, you'll leave them.” He ordered in her ear. She looked again at him, her eyebrows furrowed.
“You can trust me, kiddo, I’m just helping you, you know?” He slowly started raising her skirt. “I’m doing you a favor.” He kept repeating, as he lifted her skirt over her thighs, as she kept staring at him.
“Wh– what do you want to do? Aemond– I…” She started breathing heavily, squeezing her thighs together.
“It’s okay, kiddo, just close your eyes, you’ll feel good, I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” He brushed his lips against her ear, and he felt her shiver. He carefully wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her closer to his chest.
He looked down at her thighs, so soft and thick.
He brushed his hands over them, keeping his other arm secure around her waist.
“Relax, kiddo.” He whispered, as he slipped his hand between her thighs, finally.
He could feel his cock twitch in his breeches, begging for attention, touch. He groaned and ignored his urges, concentrating on her.
He slowly opened her legs, so that he could move his hand more freely, she didn’t resist him, she completely trusted him.
She shouldn’t be.
“Do you like this?” He asked as he looked at her face, her eyes closed. She pressed her lips together and nodded, her hands clenched into fists on his thighs.
“I’m going to make you understand why people like to touch each other, okay? Will you let me?” He asked as his fingers briefly brushed against her panties.
White cotton, like boxers for girls.
It was so different from all the other panties he had always seen, lace, lingerie, thong.
He always hated unsexy undergarments, yet, the sight of it only increased her sweet innocence, and turned him on even more.
He pressed his thumb against her clothed bud, making her jump back against him, he tightened his arm around her waist and kept her still.
“Shh, shh it’s okay, you like this, it’s okay.” He groaned as he kept pressing his thumb on her bud, slowly moving it from side to side.
“Aem– It’s strange, I– What…” She mumbled as her breathing only grew heavier.
“Calm down kiddo, enjoy it, you like it.” He kept repeating as he kept moving his thumb on her. She threw her head back on his shoulder again, letting out a strangled whine, her hand opening and grabbing his thigh, digging his fingers on his skin. He smirked as groaned softly.
“You like this, kiddo, just relax.” He moved his hand away, and he played a moment with the band of her panties, slowly moving his fingers beneath it, so she could have the time to stop him.
She didn’t, she didn’t, and there was no way he would have stopped now.
He was going to take what belonged to him.
He traced the line of her slit, as she squirmed a bit, whining.
“It’s okay, kiddo, I got you.” He pressed a kiss on her temple, as he moved his fingers again over her slit, feeling how his fingers were getting wet. He smirked again and kissed the top of her head. He pressed his thumb on her bud, as he kept working one of his fingers over her entrance, just teasing her, despite how much he wanted to slip it in, feeling how tight she was, her untouched walls struggling to accommodate one of his fingers.
“You're ready for more, kiddo? Do you want more, more pleasure?” He whispered in her ear. Ste turned her head and opened her eyes, looking at him with her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes shining due to the tears gathering in them, her breathing growing irregular and heavier.
“Aemond… this is strange…” She whimpers as she squirms again, trying to escape the pressure of his thumb on her pearl.
“You want me to stop?” He asked. “You like this, so why do you want me to stop, mh?” He slipped his finger inside, just half of it, and she moaned loudly, surprised, grabbing his arm with both of her hands, holding onto it for dear life, as she kicked her legs, but his arm wrapped around her waist kept her secure against him.
“Aemond– Oh–” She moaned again as he slowly started to move it in and out, not pushing his finger in completely.
“Lay back, enjoy kiddo.” He pushed her back against his chest, and she bent her head back further, her legs bending and opening wider by themselves.
“Aemond… please, it’s so strange–” She let out a choked moan, arching her back. He smiled at seeing her so out of control for a mere finger, his mind wandering, imagining how she would scream if it would have been his cock instead.
“You do not like it?” He looked closely at him, how her face contorted at every single move of his finger. She shook her head. “Use your words, kiddo, I want to hear it.” He ordered, speeding up the movements of his fingers, pushing it deeper, searing for that sweet spot inside her. When he saw her moan again and tried to close her legs, he knew he had found it. She moaned again out loud, her mouth open as she tried to breathe in.
“Say it, kiddo. Tell me. Do you like this or not?” He placed his other hand on her knee, opening her legs again.
“Aemond…” She whined as she turned her head, pressing it against his chest, as she clenched her hands on his shirt, desperately trying to hide herself.
“Stay with me, kiddo, tell me what you feel.” His hand kept working that spot inside her, as his thumb bruised against her pearl, he felt her walls clenching on his fingers.
“I…” She cried out as she tried to hide her face further in his chest. “It… it feels… good.” She moaned again.
“That’s right, it feels good mh?” He groaned as she squirmed again and her body rubbed against his cock. “Fuck–” He growled, he was hard rock, and despite his cock was yearning attention, e was trying to only concentrate on him, even if it was fucking hard.
“Aemond… it feels really good– but so strange, please… I– I don’t know what’s happening… I feel so tense, ah!” She  started squirming uncontrollably, her face red, and shiny by a soft layer of sweat as her walls spasmed around his finger, as she came in a loud moan. Her breathing fast, irregular, her face relaxed, her body limp, resting completely on his. He moved his fingers for a few more moments, trying to help her riding out her strong orgasm, but he stopped as he saw a hint of discomfort on her face. He slowly pulled his fingers out, as she rested her face on his chest, her eyes closed, he licked his fingers.
Sweet, pure nectar.
“You okay kiddo?” He asked once he had cleaned his fingers completely. She let out a sweet noise, and he smiled, closing her legs and pulling down her skirt, he pulled her to him, her legs over his thigh as she kept her face pressed on his shirt.
“You were beautiful, you know?” He kissed the top of her head, leaning back on the couch.
 He was aware that his excitement was more than evident, and that she could see it, but even feel it against her side, but he did nothing to relieve himself.
Not yet.
Not now.
Maybe in a few minutes?
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