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artdcnaldson · 3 days

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changeover || art donaldson x reader ; patrick zweig x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex x2, fingering, f!recieving oral), drinking, pining after people you can’t have, a dash of reader x tashi, sprinkles of patrick x art, porn WITH plot

Summary: your ‘casual’ fling with art isn’t working for you anymore, which sucks because you probably love the guy. enter a freshly heartbroken patrick to take your mind off of things.

FALL 2006

You knew exactly why Art Donaldson refused to acknowledge that you were an item. You could see it clearly across the room— the way you were cast to the shadows while he followed Tashi around like a lost puppy.

It made sense, even if it made your chest ache. Tashi was gorgeous, and was acing her classes, and was going to go pro soon and become a beautiful, all-American sports icon. And you were just some girl he’d met because he needed help understanding the reading for class.

You’d known each other for months by then— hooking up, going on dates that ‘weren’t dates,’ spending most of your time together. And you stayed firmly in the no-labels zone. But you weren’t bitter. It was totally fine, being treated like a girlfriend in all but name.

Art laughed and leaned into Tashi. It was totally fine.

You were nursing a beer in a red solo cup and trying your best to look friendly and approachable. The only reason you were even at the party was because Art had brought you, so you should’ve felt grateful. You should’ve been having fun.

But just as soon as you’d arrived, he’d slipped away with a promise to be right back. It had been over an hour, so it seemed like you had very different definitions of right back.

“Looks like your boyfriend stole my girlfriend.” You turned to see Patrick, tanned from his time on tour. He was only going to be at Stanford for the weekend before taking off for a challenger a state over, which meant he needed to capitalize on any chance to spend time with Art and Tashi.

Unfortunately, you’d both been ditched.

“Art isn’t my boyfriend,” you said pointedly, maybe a little too quickly.

Patrick knew better. The last time he came to visit, he’d interrupted a pseudo date night between the two of you (which was a nice way of saying he walked in on the two of you in Art’s dorm while his best friend was was knuckles deep in you). The rest of that night wound up being spent passing around mixed drinks made with cheap vodka and whatever you could get from the nearest vending machine. You overheard the it’s casual, nothing serious conversation they’d had through the ajar door while you bought more Powerade and Red Bull in the hall.

But you were being so understanding and cool about that.

Patrick narrowed his eyes slightly. “Really?” The corner of his mouth tugged upwards for a moment before he wrapped his lips around a beer can. He tried to hide it, but you saw.

You chewed on your lip, stomach twisting with nerves and curiosity. He was probably just messing with you, trying to get your thoughts all muddled up about Art because it was fun. Still, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question echoing through your mind. “Did Art say something to you? About us, I mean.”

The question felt pathetic. A stupid, desperate girl begging to know if the guy she liked felt the same way.

Patrick shrugged, leaning against the wall bearing the portraits of the ghosts of frat brothers’ past. “Not directly. But you’re here together, right? And he’s still seeing you.”

“I guess,” you replied with a huff, embarrassment burning hot in your chest.

“If you’re worried about Tashi, don’t be,” Patrick said, sparing a glance in her direction. When you looked towards Art, and the way he was smiling and laughing and looked so natural beside her, a frown turned your lips. Patrick nudged your arm and offered a smile. “Hey, I’m serious. Nothing’s gonna happen there. Trust me.”

It should’ve felt nice. A total reassurance from the person who knew Art best. But it did nothing to quell the turmoil twisting in the pit of your stomach. Because if he really did feel that way, why was he over there with her?

Tashi Duncan. So beautiful, radiant, and perfect that she had total control over two men. Your paths didn’t cross much, outside of Art, and that was rare since he liked to keep you two apart.

But there was a part of you that knew that Tashi would’ve been able to make you melt with one look, one smile, one word. You wanted to experience what Art did. You wanted to know what Patrick knew, and what Art was jealous of. Or maybe you wanted something of your own too, something to keep Art out of.

“I need another drink,” you said suddenly, meeting Patrick’s gaze. “Do you wanna come with me?” Patrick’s eyes flitted quickly towards Tashi, where she bantered with Art and the rest of the tennis team.

There was something in his expression you found incredibly familiar. That pang of jealousy. The ache of not belonging just right. The look was gone quickly, replaced by a toothy smile. “Sure. I could use something stronger.”

——

An hour later, Tashi left with Patrick, and Art quickly decided to take you back to his own dorm.

His lips were insistent against yours, kissing you hungrily, completely dissonant to the delicate way he tugged down the zipper of your dress. His fingers were warm where they brushed along the line of your spine. His tongue brushed against yours, tasting of beer and mint gum.

“What were you doing with him?” He murmured against your lips just as he peeled off the cheap, bodycon dress you’d gotten from Forever 21. It was tossed across the room, to be lost in the mess of practice duffles and empty water bottles and dirty laundry. The only time he parted his lips from you was to lift you onto his bed and slot himself between your thighs.

His tongue licked into your mouth possessively, claiming you as his from the inside out. You gasped as one of his hands kneaded your breast, panting open-mouthed against his lips. “Who?” You managed weakly, your mind completely blank except for Art, Art, Art. And maybe a tiny voice in the back of your head that was still thinking about the Tashi of it all.

“Patrick.” His voice was soft against the tender skin of your jaw. “I saw you two talk, then you disappeared for, like, an hour.” His teeth nipped gently at your pulse point as he nuzzled against your throat, awaiting your answer.

So he had been watching? He was with her, but he was still thinking about you. It made your heart flutter. You moaned softly as his hand slid between your thighs, teasing you through your panties. “Getting drinks,” you managed feebly. “Fuck, Art, I can’t concentrate while y—“

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers slipping beneath the band of your panties, teasing you with delicate touches. “Just drinks? For an hour?”

A strangled gasp escaped you as fingers slick with your arousal met your clit. When your eyes opened in surprise, you found Art staring right back. His touch was relentless, flooding your senses with pleasure as he demanded an answer. “We were in the living room,” you managed between soft pants and moans. “He was telling me about the— god— about the tour.”

Art’s expression flickered slightly— a tiny furrow forming between his brows. Was it doubt, or possessiveness, or anger? Before you could figure it out, his lips were against your throat, your panties were pushed to the side, and he was easing two fingers inside of your cunt.

“Fuck,” you cried out, grasping onto his shoulders. French manicured nails scratched at the pastel-colored polo he wore— why was he still wearing his clothes? Soft, keening moans slipped past your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. Every thought of him preferring Tashi or him leading you on slipped from the front of your mind as his thumb rubbed at your clit.

With a free hand, you palmed him over his pants, relishing in the way he panted against your warm skin. You made quick work of the button of his jeans— you knew your way around him like the back of your hand. He was warm, pulsing in your delicate grip when your hand slipped beneath the band of his briefs. Slick at his tip with need.

He moaned against your pulse point, nuzzling against you as you began to jerk him off in time with each pump of his fingers.

“You smell like him,” he groaned, nose pressed to the spot just beneath your ear as his hips bucked into your fist with a new sort of desperation. You didn’t have to ask who he meant. His tongue slipped out, lapping at you briefly before sucking a bruise into the delicate skin there.

His fingers flexed so they brushed against the sweet spot within you. Your eyes rolled back and a sob of pleasure clawed its way from your throat. “Need you,” you pleaded, equal parts a thoughtless cry and a demand.

And who was he to deny either of you that? A pitiful whine escaped your lips when he slipped his fingers from within you and moved your hand from him. He stood to clumsily pull off the rest of his clothes at the same time that you quickly shimmied off your panties and tossed them to the side.

”You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned as he joined you back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You were so pliant and sweet beneath him, looking up at him with adoring doe-eyes and a pretty smile on your spit-slick lips. He should’ve been perfectly content.

As he parted your thighs, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, he wondered if Tashi and Patrick were doing the same exact thing at that same exact moment. He could imagine it clearly— Tashi, splayed out on her bed, and Patrick right at home between her thighs; sinking in, faces contorting with pleasure. Before he could stop himself, a soft moan slipped past his lips at the mental image.

Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he sheathed himself within you, and he buried his face into your neck. Fuck. You really did smell like Patrick. The shitty Axe body spray that was supposed to smell like chocolate, and the lingering scent of cigarettes.

You moaned prettily, pussy squeezing him like a vise. Manicured nails scratched against his back, delicate enough that the marks would probably disappear by that time the next day. He was so used to Patrick lounging shirtless around their hotel rooms after tournaments— severe-looking scratch marks looking like angel wings against his pale skin. He always wore them like a badge of honor the night after he snuck off with some pretty girl he’d set his sights on. That’s how you know you’re doing it right.

Why was he thinking about Patrick?

He tried to lose himself in you— in how pretty you were beneath him, the sweet words falling from your lips with each thrust. Feels so good, Art. ‘M so close already. Gonna make me cum.

When he looked down at you, your mouth hung open, lips shiny with spit, begging to be kissed. His mouth met yours messily and you both moaned into the kiss. He moved a hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit as he bullied his cock into your inviting cunt.

You came with a string of moans and expletives that made the person next door bang on the wall out of annoyance. Art had to pull out as soon as he felt you start to squeeze around him. All it took was a few clumsy strokes and he was spilling onto your stomach with an almost embarrassing whine.

You both lay there catching your breath and cursing the shitty air conditioning in the dorm. He wiped the mess of cum off of your stomach with an old tee shirt that was hanging off the side of his desk and tossed it to the side to be dealt with later.

“You’re so gross,” you mumbled with a tiny laugh, reaching down to grab your underwear from your floor. After you pulled them back on, you watched him dig through a pile of clothes in a papasan chair for a passable pair of pajama pants. An amused smile played on your lips at the sight. “Do I need to buy you a hamper?”

He held up a pair of pajama pants to examine them, shrugged, and pulled them on. “I have one, it’s just full.” A boyish grin spread across his lips as he crossed the room towards his dresser. He tossed a random tee shirt from the drawer in your direction and climbed on the bed, grinning down at you. “See? I have clean clothes.”

You laughed as you pulled the shirt over your head, then turned on your side to face him. His eyes flickered from your face, down to the shirt, then back. You wrinkled your face in confusion and peered down at the shirt.

“What? What does it say?” You asked with a laugh. You held it out, squinting to make sense of the graphic— faded and upside down. Finally, your eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh! I thought you were more of a Maroon 5 and Justin Timberlake guy. I’ve never even seen a Blink-182 CD in your stuff before.”

Art cleared his throat and shrugged, thumbing the bottom of the tee shirt absentmindedly. “I went with Patrick a few years back.”

A smile turned your lips. “It’s sweet that you two are such good friends.” You reached over, brushing his curls from his forehead. He turned, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Did you and Tashi have fun tonight?” The insecurity in your words was palpable.

Art shrugged. “A party’s a party, y’know?” He leaned into your touch, letting you play with his hair. “Just lost track of time. I won’t run off on you next time.”

You chewed your lip shyly. “I think it’d be nice for the three of us to hang out sometime,” you said, watching his expression to gauge his reaction.

“C’mere,” he said with a tired smile, effectively avoiding your suggestion. When he pulled you against his side, he nuzzled his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His breath tickled with each exhale, which made you squirm, but every so often he’d place a chaste kiss on the skin there and you’d forget why you wanted to ask him to move.

In the morning, when you woke up to his alarm clock blaring a local radio station, you realized it was the first time he’d let you stay the night.

SPRING 2007

After your second drink, you decided that Art Donaldson had hung you out to dry for the last time. Well, probably the last time.

Most likely not the last time.

Knowing yourself, you’d be clinging to his side like a lost puppy in a few weeks’ time, if you even had the dignity to give it that long. The second his attention turned to you again, you knew you’d be absolutely relishing in the special affection he always gave you when he was experiencing Tashi-related withdrawal.

You were so stupidly in love (or in lust, or in whatever) with him that you’d accept just about anything he could throw at you.

No labels, just casual? Fine. Ignoring you all night then conveniently remembering you exist when he’s horny and ready to go back to his dorm? Whatever. You’re game.

You’d gone to every match, watched a few practices. Helped him study for exams, let him borrow the notecards you’d painstakingly written over the course of the semester. Jesus, you even wrote a few essays for him when his schedule got crowded and he just couldn’t manage.

All you asked in return was a date to a stupid formal, and he ditched you last minute for Tashi. Again. And you couldn’t even get pissed about it without feeling guilty, because she’d fucking gotten injured and it wasn’t her fault that the guy you were into was carrying a torch for her instead.

“You’ve been staring down the Reese’s Pieces for the last five minutes.” The familiar voice startled you from your sulking. The world filtered back in suddenly— the blaring music, the smell of cigarettes and pot, the chatter of people wandering in and out of neighboring dorms. When you turned, Patrick Zweig was leaning against the vending machine beside you, carrying a large Tennis bag and backpack on both of his shoulders. “Do you need five bucks?”

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” You asked, brows furrowed with confusion. “I heard about her match. I just figured that you’d…“ You trailed off as you noticed the thinly veiled kicked-puppy expression he wore. “Oh.”

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s… it’s over. Did you want the Reese’s, or not?”

“No,” you shook your head and laughed. “I just needed…” you trailed off. What was it you needed, again?

You needed Art. A date to the formal. You needed to feel desirable and cared for. You needed him to get his head out of his ass and just fucking commit. You needed to tell Art to fuck off and find another groupie. You needed…

“Another drink?” Patrick suggested.

You nodded eagerly like that’s what you’d been thinking all along. “Yes. Another drink.” You paused, glancing at his bags. “Do you want to drop your things in my room first? My roommate is in Iowa, or something. She won’t mind.”

Your dorm was decorated in shades of pink and green, with a ruffled bedspread and faux fur pillows and blankets. You bent down to retrieve two bottles of Smirnoff Ice from a mini fridge. Patrick did his best to look away like a gentleman would.

Well, he did his best. It wasn’t exactly his fault that his options were to look at your tight jeans or the bulletin board above your desk that was essentially an Art Donaldson shrine.

Pretty pink push pins held up a photo of the two of you after one of his matches, both beaming at the camera. Then there were little notes he’d written you in his boyish scrawl. Tickets to movies you’d gone to see and tickets to his matches.

“Here,” you said, drawing his attention back to you, thankfully in an upright position. You’d already popped the bottle caps off the radioactive blue drink you handed him. You were chewing your lip shyly, sweetly. “It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?”

“What?” He took a drink and nearly grimaced at the sweetness. After he finished it, he’d need to go find something stronger.

You sighed and took a long drink yourself. “I dunno, the whole… thing. Art.” You absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your shirt. “I mean, what girl with any self-respect lets a guy just screw her for months with no commitment?”

“Maybe self-respect is overrated.” He laughed and stepped closer. “Full disclosure? I only came here hoping that I could fuck someone and spend the night in their dorm. Free booze was a plus.”

“We’re in the same boat then,” You said, gazing up at him through your lashes. “We’re both jilted lovers who need a distraction.”

You tilted the bottom of the bottle up, chugging down the contents. When you were done, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and rolled your neck out. “Bottoms up,” you said with a coy smile. “Let’s find something stronger.”

——

An hour later, something by the Pussycat Dolls was blaring through a set of speakers in a darkened common area. You were the fun kind of tipsy, where you started to care less about everyone else and just found yourself buzzed in that light, easy kind of way. You danced to the beat without a care in the world while Patrick sat on the arm of a couch and nursed his beer.

His eyes were glued to your body as you moved, almost hypnotic beneath the red Christmas lights that had been stapled around the ceiling. Your shirt had ridden up, revealing a sliver of stomach that you either didn’t notice or didn’t care to cover up.

The only thought running through his head? Art was a fucking idiot.

You glanced over at him and nodded for him to join you. He didn’t move, so, not one to give up, you joined him over on the couch. When he went for a drink, you tipped up the bottom of the beer can and forced him to finish it, even as it spilled past his lips and down his chin.

“Thanks,” he deadpanned, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

With a pleased smile, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the middle of the room to dance.

He shook his head as you tried to make him dance— your hands on his hips, pushing and pulling and trying and failing to make him move. “No, no. I don’t dance,” he explained, as firmly as he could stand to be.

“Because you can’t? Or because you think you’re too cool?” You asked, raising a brow. He rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “C’mon, if you dance, I’ll tell you a secret.”

That did make him laugh. “What are you, five?”

With a shrug, you took his hands into yours and moved them to your hips. There was a hesitance in his touch, at first. But then his fingers splayed against exposed skin, and you were so warm. Your hips began moving to the beat beneath his hands. “See? We’re dancing,” you said, peering up at him through long lashes.

You looked genuinely victorious when he finally started dancing… kind of. It was less of an action and more of an acceptance. It had been abundantly obvious since the moment he walked into your dorm room that you wanted to end the night with him. Maybe it was because you thought it would hurt Art, or maybe it was because he was there and he was feeling the exact same things you were.

He’d done his best to resist out of some lingering sense that he could repair things with Tashi, and the hope that maybe Art’s spite would fade and they’d be friends again.

Despite skipping the whole college thing, Patrick wasn’t an idiot. He knew better. The second Tashi fell on that court, both of those doors slammed in his face.

And you were so close to him that he could smell the liquor on your breath. And Victoria’s Secret body spray. Mostly the liquor, though. He was barely moving, but you— you were something else. Hips moving against the thigh he’d slotted between your legs, arms trailing up his chest so you could sling them around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer. Even though you were grinding against each other like two horny middle-schoolers at their first dance, he’d had enough to drink that he didn’t really give a fuck. When he moved his hands from your hips to grab your ass, you gasped and laughed like it was the best thing in the world.

Your body moved so effortlessly that anything he could have possibly done would’ve looked clunky and clumsy. He groaned when you brushed against him just right, and he could tell by your smug expression that you knew exactly how you were affecting him.

You leaned in, chest to chest. “Can I tell you the secret now?” You whispered, lips brushing against the line of his jaw. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I think it’d be a bad idea for us to fuck. We’re both in a bad place.”

“Mhmm. Bad idea,” he echoed. He wanted to reach out and grab your jaw, to tilt your face up and kiss you. One of your hands had slipped beneath the hem of his (Tashi’s) shirt, just barely teasing the skin there. It made him shiver and lean into the heat of your touch.

“But I still want to.” You sounded so earnest, so needy. Like you’d take anything he’d give you and thank him for it. “We can use each other to feel better, right? Just a nice, warm body and a rush of dopamine.”

It was exactly what Patrick had come to the fucking dorm rager for. To feel wanted and desired. For someone to look at him like he wasn’t actively failing at the one thing he was supposed to be the best at.

But he was good at other things.

You guided him through the crowded hallway, way more packed than they had been before you’d started dancing. It was getting later, more people were falling for the siren song of R&B and beer. You were a siren of a different making— with much more dangerous consequences than a hangover.

It almost felt wrong to be back in your innocent, frilly little dorm with the intention of fucking your brains out. But the looks you were giving him were enough proof that he wasn’t the only pervert. Before you could get too far, he pinned you up against the door, displacing a dry-erase calendar in the process.

You glanced down, eyes flitting towards the hearts around tomorrow’s date, anticipating the formal that Art had flaked on. Without looking back, you kicked the dry-erase board out of the way, a problem for later.

His lips met yours in a messy clash— teeth knocking slightly until you found a rhythm with each other. Patrick Zweig kissed like he’d been at war for fucking years and had just returned home. He kissed like he had crawled out of the desert and the only promise of water could be found on your tongue.

You’d never been kissed with that level of need and desperation— that desire— and you fucking loved it. The taste of his tongue licking into your mouth, the rumble of a moan against your own lips.

His hands were moving beneath your shirt, pushing it up as he went. A pretty whine slipped past your spit-slick lips as he squeezed your tits over your bra. Your hands stayed busy undoing his jeans. He moaned into your mouth when your fingers barely brushed against the bulge through the denim.

“That feel good?” You teased, practically breathing the words into his lungs as you slipped your hand into his boxers. He groaned in response as your hand wrapped around him and pumped slowly. There was something addicting about his need— you relished in the pulse of him, warm and bucking into your grip. And you wanted more. You wanted to be the one to make him come undone. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

His head fell back slightly as you brushed your thumb along his tip, the movement accompanied by another soft groan. The way you peered up at him with an earnest need to please made hot desire thrum within him.

“You could start by taking these clothes off,” he said, fingers roaming to tug at the strap of your bra. You started to move, slipping your hand from his boxers. Then you stopped.

“You’re not gonna help?” You asked coyly, goosebumps forming where his fingers trailed along your side, teasing at the band of the bra.

That made a tiny smirk turn at his lips. “Does Art help?” It shouldn’t have turned him on— that little flash of longing for Art in your eyes. But it did. You nodded, shifting slightly to encourage more of Patrick’s touch. “Lift your arms.”

As easy as anything, you obeyed. No banter, no push and pull for control. It was so different than what he had with Tashi (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about), and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how it always was for you and Art (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about either).

He tossed your shirt to the side and moved a single hand to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a quick movement that he’d perfected at sixteen. Painstakingly slow, he pushed each strap down your arms, until it fell at your feet and exposed your tits to the overzealous AC of the Stanford dorms.

Your nipples pebbled in the cool air, and his mouth watered in a near-Pavlovian response to the sight. His hands moved back to your chest, so he could thumb over the sensitive buds and relish in the way you shivered.

The wood of the door was cold against your shoulders as you arched into his touch. Manicured nails fumbled with the button to your jeans— you twisted and shimmied them off before kicking them to the side.

Before you could react, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed. A grin played at your lips as he practically dropped you onto it, making a decorative pillow fall to the floor.

“It was only, like, five steps,” you said with a laugh. Patrick shrugged and made quick work of his clothes. You sat up on your elbows to watch him shuck off his pants, then awkwardly hop on one foot at a time to remove his shoes and socks.

When he finally joined you on the bed, he was clad only in his boxers, which were sporting an almost comically large tent. He positioned himself over you, that shit-eating grin ever present on his face. “Can I go down on you?”

You laughed lightly in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

He nodded. “As a heart attack.” He nuzzled against your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, lemme make you feel good, okay? I live for this shit.”

You giggled, pushing his face away. “Yeah. Fuck. You can.”

He trailed his lips down your jaw, then your sternum. He stopped only briefly to suck each nipple into his mouth, making you squirm and arch into him. Your hand moved into his hair, and he moaned against your tit as you tugged slightly.

You watched him kiss down your stomach and peel your panties down your legs with his teeth through half-lidded eyes. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he slowly kissed up one leg.

The sight made your stomach flip— the sheer desire of it all. Your mind flickered to Tashi, as it seemed to do more and more. Tashi got this same sight, felt the same lips on her skin, and heard the same groans and pants. You could’ve laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. At that moment, with Patrick on top of you, you were closer to Tashi than Art could even dream of.

A tap on the inside of your thigh was his wordless way of telling you to open up for him, to get out of your head and come back to earth. Your tummy fluttered as you spread your legs more and he slotted himself there with an arm slung across your stomach.

“Fuck,” he said lowly, peering up at you. “You get this wet from just kissing?”

Heat burned in your cheeks at his obvious amusement, but you could tell he loved how responsive you were. His tongue traced you from your hole to your clit, making you cry out and twist your fingers into his curls. Quick, teasing flicks against your clit made your thighs tremble and squeeze around his shoulders. You were so fucking sensitive that it made him want to tear you apart.

It was messy— a sloppy mix of his spit and your arousal as he made out with your pussy. His nose brushed against your clit as he nuzzled deeper into you, moaning as his fervor was rewarded with more of your juices spilling onto his tongue.

There was no method or precision to it, even though you were quite sure he could’ve had you coming undone beneath his fingers in no time at all. Patrick relished in every tiny reaction— in feeling your thighs around his head and your fingers in his hair. Relished in the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of your slick smeared across his face.

Your back was arching off the bed, nails digging just shy of painfully into his scalp.

He opened you up with one finger, then a second. Your cunt accepted the intrusion with ease, like you were made for it. For him. He crooked his fingers just so and you cried out pathetically. He pressed there, constant and firmly and your fingers tugged harder on his hair, moans increasing in pitch as your breaths came in pants.

“I’m— I— fuck—“ words failed you as his lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked, making spots dance across your vision. In the absence of words, all you could manage were fucked out sobs and pitiful little whines.

Slick walls fluttered around his fingers, and your clit pulsed against his tongue. You were so easy to get worked up— a toy for him to wind up and set into motion. You came with a moan that would’ve made a weaker man cum inside of his boxers, your cunt spasming around the intrusion of his fingers.

When he sat back and cleaned his fingers in his mouth, you were watching through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Tiny pieces of hair were plastered to your face and forehead, and you gave a breathless giggle as you looked up at him.

“Holy shit,” you said with a grin as he shucked off his boxers and kicked them off somewhere across the room.

“Feel good?” He asked, and pressed a kiss to your hip bone. You nodded wordlessly, feeling dizzy with need. “Gonna give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly, peering up at him with wide eyes. The tip of his nose was shiny with your arousal, which made warmth spread across your cheeks. With a sheepish laugh, you reached up and wiped it away with your thumb. There wasn’t much you could do about the mess on his mouth and chin. “You’re all messy.”

He kissed you slow— leaving his tongue against yours, making you taste yourself mixed with his spit. It was less of a kiss than a series of slow laves of his tongue against yours. It felt dirty, and a little gross, but you couldn’t help but relish in it. You’d never kissed Art like that, would’ve never even dreamed of it. Patrick was an entirely different animal.

You stayed like that for a while— just completely lost in the feel of him warm on top of you, grinding his cock against your cunt as he planted messy kisses to your lips.

“Condom?” He mumbled the words against your lips when he finally grew impatient.

“Mhmm. Bedside table.”

He fumbled inside the drawer, grabbing glasses cleaning wipes two seperate times before he finally found a foil packet in the bottom of the drawer.

He held it between two fingers, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You sure this’ll fit me? I’m bigger than Art.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not by that much.”

“Where it counts, though.” His smirk was smarmy as he tore open the foil with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length. He spat in his hand and stroked himself as he peered down at you, like he hadn’t quite decided how he wanted you yet.

“Turn over,” he finally said with a pat to the meat of your thigh. You did as he said, almost hesitant as you turned over and settled onto your forearms, arching your back slightly. “Does Art ever fuck you like this?”

He held the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you with the tiniest amount of pressure. You took in a shaky breath and shifted, eager for more that he wasn’t going to give you yet. “Do you have to bring him up right now?”

No. He knew he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help himself at the same time. The thought of his Art in this same bed with you made it all so much hotter for him. He wanted to know how Art had fucked you, he wanted every detail burned in his brain. He wanted to be better, or maybe just be there with the two of you.

It had gotten close. Once. Art was definitely fingering you under a blanket while the three of you watched a movie on his laptop across the room. Patrick’s thigh was touching yours— he could feel the way your muscles tensed and shook as Art played with you. He was close enough to hear the hitch of your breath.

And if that hadn’t been enough to give it away, Art’s stupid fucking smirk and the obvious way his arm was moving would have.

He didn’t do anything then, but maybe he should’ve.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He was slow as he sank into you, inch by inch. It could’ve been the position, or maybe his cocky bravado was completely founded, but he did feel bigger than you were used to. A soft moan was punched from your lips when he was finally buried to the hilt— your breath came in soft pants as you adjusted to the feeling of him.

With your face pressed into your pillows, each breath you took flooded your senses with the smell of Art’s cologne. You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as your thoughts were overwhelmed with him.

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he groaned. His fingers dimpled your skin where he held onto you. He moved one hand to rub the base of your spine in a way that could probably have been tender, on another day. You moaned pathetically into the pillows. “What? You need something?”

One shallow, teasing thrust made your toes curl. “More,” was all you could manage.

“Can you take it?” Patrick cooed, smugness was practically dripping from his tongue. “Because I can go slow if you need—“

“You’re such an asshole. Just fuck m—”

A rough snap of Patrick’s hips cut you off suddenly. You cried out, grasping onto the bedspread feebly as he began to fuck you in earnest.

Each thrust made the cheap, university-provided bed frame slam against the wall. The decorations you had hung up rattled, threatening to tumble right onto the floor and shatter, but neither of you even noticed. The moans slipping past your lips were pornographic.

But the sounds escaping you were nothing compared to the noises Patrick was making. Art had made an off-handed comment, once, about how much of a slut Patrick could be. You hadn’t really seen why until you got to hear the desperate, debauched noises he could make.

You slipped a hand between your thighs to rub at your clit and the feeling stole the air from your lungs. Your eyes rolled back, ass jiggling in time with each thrust.

Through it all, the memory of Art in this bed clung to you. Art, burying himself in the soft, wet heat between your thighs, flushed down to his chest and panting softly. His hungry kisses, melting sweet on your tongue like cotton candy. The whines that slipped past his lips, better than the prettiest music you could imagine.

With each brutal thrust of Patrick’s cock into you, he punched out soft ah, ah, ahs from your lips. In your head, you just heard Art, Art, Art. Maybe that’s what you meant to say.

You were probably in love with him. You were fucking his best friend. And it wasn’t even that simple. Patrick and Art and Tashi and somewhere between it all, you lingered. It was a giant clusterfuck of feelings and lust that you’d somehow tangled yourself inside of. Wanting someone so much, you want whoever has them just as badly.

Maybe everything would’ve been a lot cleaner if you’d just locked the four of you into a room and stayed until every bit of tension had been fucked out. The idea of it all made you moan softly into the pillows.

Patrick pulled you up suddenly, back flush against his chest as he continued to fuck into you. One hand grabbed at your jaw, turning you so he could press his lips to yours again, and the other squeezed at your tits. His mouth did a perfect job of muffling your moans— Patrick relished in feeling your pretty whines vibrate against his lips.

“You feel so fucking perfect.” His words made heat flutter through you. “Need t’ feel you cum again. You have it in you, yeah? I can feel it.”

You nodded, eager to please. Pleasure was lapping at every nerve, lightning-hot. Your fingers rubbed faster at your clit as he pounded up into you. The whines escaping you were pathetic as your body crawled closer and closer to the edge.

“Close,” you gasped out. Patrick licked into your open mouth, kissing you sloppily as you set a punishing pace on your poor, oversensitive clit. “So close— f-fuck—“

Your orgasm hit you suddenly. You clawed at his arm with your free hand, desperately seeking purchase as euphoria pulsed through your veins.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his breath hot against your jaw. “Fuck— squeezin’ me so tight I can barely move— god—“

Your eyes were half-lidded as he worked you through it, rhythm only just beginning to falter as his finish approached. He pushed you back onto your stomach, manhandling your hips so your back was arched just like he wanted.

You were reduced to whimpers and whines by the time he finally came— buried as deep as he could get, grip bruising on your hips. A few shallow thrusts were all he could manage before he pulled out, collapsing on beside you.

You were catching your breath while he disposed of the condom in the cute trash can beside your bed, filled with gummy snack wrappers and broken pencils and old class notes. It felt like sacrilege. He laid back down, and you pulled a throw blanket over the two of you.

With his head against the pillows, you wondered if he could also sense the phantom of Art’s presence there in the bed. Somewhere between you, forcing distance.

“So, when do you leave for your next tournament?” You asked. Unconsciously, you reached out to play with his hair, the same way you did to Art in times like these. “Soon, I bet. You usually don’t stay long.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” He asked, a tiny smile playing at his lips. His chest was still heaving with exertion.

You shook your head. “I don’t want to get rid of you, Patrick.” He melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

In the morning, you’d wake up squished against Patrick’s side with the taste of sugary alcohol on your tongue. When you picked up your phone to see three missed calls from Art, it was easier to pretend that you hadn’t seen them at all.

thanks for reading :) if you enjoyed, please lmk by sending an ask, or whatever you wanna do <3

#challengers 2024 #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson fanfic #patrick zweig fanfic #challengers fanfic #my writing

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flashiefloo · 2 days

Text

DP x DC prompt 10

Not sure on the exact mechanics of how, but ecto slows down aging by a hella big amount. Perhaps amount factors into it. The main point here is Danny ages hella slow.

Someone else who ages slowly, for a different reason? Deathstroke.

I need these 2 being friends, but with different feelings about it. From Danny's end it's 100% a threat. If you asked Slade tho he'd be like "friends. Gross. No. I don't have friends. I have people I tolerate."

They've known each other since not long after Slade got whatever serum he was injected with, tho Danny was already quite old (despite looking about 20). Tho he was very happy to find someone he could fight with and not have to hold back, while also not worrying about accidentally killing them.

Danny is still a "hero" tho not full time. Him and his ghosts have an understanding so they don't really come and try and destroy Amity anymore (which was mostly enrichment on their end, which they get still they just have their fights in the Ghost Zone).

The two very frequently just show up randomly to mess with the other. To the confusion of anybody else around who isn't aware of their "relationship"

#danny phantom #dc comics #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton #slade wilson #deathstroke the terminator

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minhosimthings · 3 days

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Lucifer|| Prolouge

Synopsis: After you found your husband cheating on you, you found a different kind of comfort in his devilishly handsome colleagues.

Pairings: detective 02z × fem!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, minors please do not interact, catcalling, mention of alcohol, reader is cheated on by Heeseung, cheating (which I do not condone in real life)

A/N: Prologue for my 02z short series everyone! I abandoned everything else after Enha dropped Memorabilia just to write this BECAUSE I CAN. I will try to put out the oneshots as early as possible and I hope all of you will enjoy it! Au revoir!

Taglist: Open

Series Masterlist

Crystalline tears filled your eyes as you walked under the dark azure sky. Your feet ached, your heart thumped hard against its prison and your mind spun and yet you kept walking. Walking somewhere, you didn't even bother to understand.

Adjusting your skirt, and moving your scarf down to reveal your bloodied lips from having bitten them too much, you tried to recall what had happened today that made you so miserable. Was it the broken coffee machine, or was it the recent murders in the newspaper? Or was it a person? Perhaps it was the latter.

Heeseung.

You loved Lee Heeseung. With all of your soul and all of your heart you loved him all the way through the bright Mays and the chilly Decembers. You loved him in a way only the setting sun could love the ocean, the way its rays danced with the water so gracefully.

And yet you caught him in your own bedroom, strong sinews of muscles handling another girl's lusty bones, as she merged her body with someone you thought belonged to you.

His apologies went deaf to your ears, you spent an hour or so packing up all your things and driving out the house without a second thought. You didn't even realise how much time you spent screaming your head off at him, trying hard to stop your tears from escaping their barrier as you shoved each and every gift he ever gave you into his arms and asked him to burn them to the ground. And yet you didn't know how to cope without them either.

Your mother never taught you how to handle grief without alcohol and your father's blood always seeped through your mouth in words of fire and fury everytime something went wrong. It was no wonder you had found comfort in Heeseung, a man who could handle all of your pain and all of your anger.

You had trusted him with your life, marrying him happily to escape your childhood home and entrusting in him your most beloved secrets, your love and dedication and your virginity as well. You thought that had been enough, staying home whilst Heeseung worked his ass off at the police station to provide you with everything you could ask for and more.

And when he came home, you were his toy, a plaything for him to release his stress on and yet you didn't budge. Why should you? When you were recieving all the pleasure you could ever want and giving all the pleasure back to your husband. Nevertheless, you stared at your empty ring finger now, hands shivering in the cold as you scolded yourself on not wearing mittens. Heeseung used to scold you too.

Lee Heeseung. What would you have done to absolutely irradicate Lee Heeseung?

You had parked your car at the nearby park where you knew it'd be safe, and had gone for a walk. Thoughts rushed to your mind. You had known about Heeseung's affair for some time now, but you wanted to catch him in the act, to prove to the world, to yourself, that your melancholic delusion could be justified. Here you were now, dragging your feet across the cemented pavement, knowing there's only one other place you could go to. The darkness was a bad place for a woman to be, at 10 pm but you didn't give a single fuck about anything as your prosaic body tried to get itself up. You swore you could have heard voices behind you.

"Hey, hey you!" You heard a voice shout behind you, "What's a pretty lady doin' in a place like this?"

You gulped in fear as your feet sped up. Stupid stupid girl, you thought to yourself, should have stayed in the goddamned car!

"Hey you ignorin' me?" The voice shouted again, and you could hear the gruff footsteps which followed you, getting closer by the moment, "Stop fucking runnin' away from me!"

Your heart pumped blood faster as you picked up your skirt and ran, at the fastest speed you could. This wouldn't have happened if Heeseung was here!, you thought, and though a part of your brain tried to scold you about still thinking about him, at the moment all you were focused on was getting somewhere safe.

The man's drunken voice could still be hear by your ears, and his harsh footsteps told you he was running behind you, chasing you as if you were a wild mongrel to be caught and leashed.

Only one place. Only one place you could go now.

Turning swift on your feet, you ran down the wide lane filled with shops on one side and the empty road on the other, being careful not to crash into the glowing streetlights, as your destination came into your visage.

The police station. Where you knew, your last hope would be standing.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"Got the Samson case solved yet?" Sunghoon yawned and stretched his limbs above his head, like a prosaic cat, "Man I could do with a drink right now."

"It's 10 pm." Jake checked his pocketwatch, running his hand through his hair as he always did, "What bar is going to be open at this time?"

"Hey, should we steal Jay's stash?" Sunghoon glanced, with mischievous eyes at Jake, who mirrored an equally mischief filled smile back.

"Don't even think about touching my bourbon." A dark haired man, with eyes as black as kohl, walked in, equally black gloves decorating his hands, "Unless you want to be stuck on traffic duty all week."

"Who pissed in your cereal today?" Sunghoon snickered, leaning back in his chair, a crack of his bone could be heard as he lazily stretched, "Let me guess, Heeseung?"

"Is it about his wife again?" Jake groaned, hair tangled in his hand again, "Jay, just leave it man, they'll sort it out."

"Sort it out?" Jay looked at the long haired man with a quizzical look, "What kind of a man cheats on a beautiful woman and brags about it?"

"Most of them." Sunghoon broke out into his drawer, hands reaching for a eloquent wooden pipe, which he lit and transferred to his mouth, sighing out the smoke as he relaxed into his chair, "You're too righteous to understand that, Jongsoeng."

Jay wrinkled his nose, as Sunghoon blew a puff of cigarette smoke into the air. Settling into his own chair, Jay's eyes flickered towards Heeseung's desk, where files lay messily scattered. A solitary photo frame brightened up the lonely atmosphere of the desk. Lee Y/N, Jay thought, his wife, not yours.

"Jay, come on, stop sulking over your little crush," Jake scoffed, his hands busy with a sleek, brownish-yellow bottle in his hand, "Just have a drink and get your mind off it."

"First of all, how did you get into my bourbon cabinet." Jay snatched the glass from Jake's hand, and toyed with it protectively, "Second of all, I can't just get my mind of it. I mean, come on," He extended his glass out to Jake who poured the elysian liquid into Jay's glass, "Who the fuck would have the gall to cheat on such a pretty woman who loves him to bits?"

"Look, you like her right? And don't say no, we all know it Jongsoeng." Sunghoon leaned forward in his chair, "So when she finds out about everything, just offer to take her home and, you know, let her sob into your arms and then take her into your bedroom and-"

"Since when did you start reading romance?" Jake chuckled, pressing a glass of bourbon to his lips.

"Since lover boy here started crushing on..what's her name? Y/N wasn't it?" Sunghoon laughed, taking another piquant drag of his pipe, "I get it, she is really pretty."

'Really pretty' was one way to describe you, Jay thought, smiling into his glass of bourbon. Every inch of you called out to him, beckoned him closer and closer to your poisonous radius. It wasn't that he didn't try to fight it, lusting after another's wife, but it was that he found that hidden sadness in your eyes heartbreaking everytime he looked into them.

"Want to head home, fellas?" Jake briskly sat up straight in his chair, "Or are either of you going to stop at a brothel?"

"Don't have time for that." Sunghoon chuckled darkly, putting out his pipe, "Plus I've got a-"

Bang!

The door of the quite airy police station burst open with a loud bang, and it seemed as if a hurricane in the guise of a panicked woman had swept in, alarming the three detectives. The sudden action caused them to act on their reflexes, pulling out their revolvers faster than their eyes could comprehend the sight in fron them. Jake's eyes seemed to work the quickest.

"Ma'am? Are you alright?" Jake called out, signalling the other two to lower their weapons. He stepped forward and turned a switch on, which caused the entire room to light up in bright light, contrasting to the soft yellow light that earlier shone from the desk lamps.

Jay's senses had seemed to ding up after the initial shock of the entire thing, as he walked forward with careful steps towards you, as Jake and Sunghoon whispered to each other, making out why you were here. Your eyes took a moment to register the man in front of you.

Jay Park, you thought, a man who was perfection incarnated.

"Y/N," Jay spoke softly, careful not to frighten you, "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" He looked you up and down to check for any disfigurements.

"I-" you spoke, your throat tightening by the moment, "Heeseung—he" you couldn't speak any more as his name uttered out your mouth. Bursting into tears, you buried your face in your hands as you felt your cheeks burn up with embarrassment. You really weren't crying in front of your (ex) husband's colleagues, men who you barely knew, apart from the usual condolences.

You felt warm, strong muscles pull you into their hold. It felt like a cozy cocoon, scented with the fragrance of pine and paper.

"Calm down, doll," Jay whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck, "take a breath for me."

Jay coached you through breathing in and out, which restored some of your consciousness. You had nearly been on the verge of fainting, with how much you had ran.

"Can I—May I sit down for a moment?" You asked, weary of the other two men's eyes watching you, "Please."

"Of course." Jay said, supporting your figure with his sinews as he led you over to his cubicle. You could see the other two hastily clearing out messy piles of papers. The shorter one, you assumed was Jake, from his drooped posture and lion-like hair. The taller one then, had to be Sunghoon, with porcelain skin and an ice cold gaze.

"Did-did you walk all the way from your house?" Jake questioned, offering you a seat, which you gratefully collapsed into.

"No, just the park nearby." You shot him a small smile through your croaky voice, which he returned, "My car's still parked there though. I drove from" you stopped in your words uncertain to say his name, "-from Heeseung's house."

You felt the tension in the room as you said those words. Heeseung's house, you thought, it had been home once. You felt Jay shift his position in the chair next to you, and Sunghoon transfer his weight to one foot, whilst leaning on the desk.

"If you want us to go beat him up, we'll gladly do it." Sunghoon offered, making you chuckle and shake your head.

"No it's fine, I mean she wasn't that pretty anyway, he's bound to lose interest in her some day or the other." You smiled, to no one but yourself. Humour had never been your strong suit.

"Aww man I really wanted to beat him up." Sunghoon feigned defeat, "Asshole deserves it for how much paperwork he gave me."

"That's the only reason you want to beat him up?" You raised a brow at the light skinned man, who raised one back.

"And for betraying a pretty lady of course." He winked at you, making you internally roll your eyes.

"Would-would you like some bourbon?" Jake awkwardly offered you a glass. You could see the embarrassment in his eyes the moment he asked the question, "Or water if you want-"

"I'll take the bourbon." You grabbed the glass from Jake, who, with his shocked eyes poured you a glass, which you downed immediately without flinching in front of the three startled detectives, "Can I have another?"

"Can we have some too?" Sunghoon smirked at you, grabbing his own glass and beckoning Jake to pour him a shot. Jay, admitting defeat, had grabbed a glass too, filled with the bubbly alcohol.

"Well," Sunghoon raised his glass in a toast, "to Heeseung hopefully getting bored of the other woman."

"Peculiar toast, Detective Park." You laughed, "I like it."

The moments that followed still felt like a fever dream to you. You had sat in a building, alone with three handsome men, talking down right shit about your husband, whilst drinking more bourbon than you ever had and although you had already defeated Jake in drinking (almost) half a pint, you still wanted more. This definetly was not on your itinerary for the evening, but did you care at this point? Absolutely not.

"Ugh fuck." You swore under your breath. You probably shouldn't have drank that much, but in all honestly, it would have helped to relieve some of the painful memories of the night.

"Woah steady there." Jay looked at you cautiously as you stirred in your chair. Jake was on the verge of passing out, having even taking his glasses off, while Sunghoon and Jay, who hadn't drank as much, looked as calm as the winds.

"You know what?" You started, not knowing the words coming out of your drunken mouth anymore, "Fuck Lee Heeseung, fuck that man." A sudden maniacal giggle from your mouth seemed to have amused Sunghoon.

"Fuck in what terms, Mrs Lee?" He asked, trying to hide his cunning smirk, whilst ignoring Jay's warning glares.

"Mrs Lee?" You questioned, feeling your senses come back, though you were still tipsy, "Who's Mrs Lee? Not me, no sir-ee." You laughed, "If I had the chance to chop off that asshole's dick right now, I would."

"But you wouldn't allow us to beat him up? Strange." Sunghoon whistled out in his usual cocky tone.

"It's getting late." Jay checked the grand clock in the corner of the room, his eyes wavered over the dried tears on your face, it was alarming to him how much a mere glass of bourbon had managed to get you giggling like a cuckoo, "Y/N I can drop you-"

"I'd rather fuck all of you in one night rather than see that idiot's face again." You chuckled again, this time, saying the sentence with full seriousness. Did you really mean it?, perhaps not, as you would have thought later on. But were you up for having sex with three extremely attractive men who happened to be the best friends of your ex-husband? That, was a definite yes.

"Oh really?" Sunghoon placed his forearms on the desk in front of him, leaning in closer to your face. Jay's hand clutched harder against the edge of the desk. "And what if I say yes to that proposal?"

"What are you implying, Detective Park?" You looked into his dark, devilish eyes, "That you'd have sex with someone pathetic enough to get cheated on?"

"Don't say that, you're not pathetic." Jay's eyes softened as he looked at you, but you merely scoffed, turning your face instead to look at Sunghoon, who was evidently smirking. You caught Jake's widened eyes from the corner of your eye, listening intently.

"How about this-" Sunghoon started, folding his arms, "You get a night of good sex, I get a night of good sex, you and I both get to rub that in Heeseung's face, and then we have breakfast in France."

"Are you married Detective Park?" You quizzed him with an amused face, his offer seemed at the very least, interesting to you.

"Not yet, no. I'm still young aren't I?", Sunghoon's mouth stretched like a cat's into a lazy smile, "Why do you ask? Are you....perhaps intrigued by my offer?"

There was something ironic about that sentence "I'm still young" that struck a chord within you, you were the same age as him and yet you were sitting there talking about your husband.

"Intrigued is one way to put it." You smiled back, hoping you looked anything like a vixen, matching the bastardous fox like energy of Sunghoon's, "But don't you think it's greedy of you, Detective Park? To want me all to yourself?"

"And what do you mean by that, Miss Y/N?" Jake smiled in his boyish manner, "Is Sunghoon here not enough for you?"

"I'm just saying." You held up your hands in mock defence, "wouldn't you both like to get a taste too?"

You glanced at Jay in the corner, who you had expected to be shaking his head in disapproval. But to your utter surprise, he had one of his gloves hands stroking his chin as if in deep thought. His eyes were dark even in the fluorescent light of the room, deep pools of cataclysmic waters floating around in his pupils. He looked vaguely interested.

"So just to recap," Jake started, clearing his throat, such that his Adam's apple was clearly visible, "You want us to bed you, so as to make your ex husband, our colleague and friend, someone's whose wife we definetly should not be sleeping with, jealous?"

"That's the blueprint." You said in a sweet honeyed voice, "How exactly you make him know that I'm not his anymore, you figure that out. If I even so as look at that man's face again, I will jump off a cliff."

"But the question is-" you put on a proud smile, eyes darting from one man to the next, "Who's going first?"

"Shouldn't you decide that sweetheart?" Jay's deep voice came like a rumble through the ground during an earthquake, slightly startling you. He hadn't said anything in the past few minutes, his sudden break of silence alarmed you.

"Alright then." You chuckled, not daring to meet Jay's eyes, you knew you'd melt as soon as you saw them, "How about the person who suggested this?" You turned your face towards a smirking Sunghoon, with his head held high like a peacock's, "Detective Park?"

"Shall I go with the lady's word boys?" Sunghoon asked Jake, who nodded his head, taking his glasses off the desk and outting them on again. The effect it had in him was quite handsome, according to you.

"Should we make a pact then?" Jake asked cheekily, glancing around for a piece of paper, finally picking one up from underneath the mountain of files lying on the wisened wood. Putting it down on the paper, he scribbled something down quickly, showing it off proudly to the others. You let out a laugh when you saw what he wrote.

"'The make Heeseung jealous organisation'?" You laughed, "I can't tell if you're serious or not."

"I'm dead serious." Jake looked at you with glossy eyes, he always was a funny one, you recalled, "Come on everyone, I need signatures."

He's serious about this, you thought, amused at Jake's comedic demeanor. You swiftly pressed the black ink to the paper, leaving off a flashy signature to decorate it. Jay signed off last, with an impeccable font.

Words couldn't have described that very evening. No sentence that could come out of your mouth could have ever even begun to explain to a complete stranger about how you had ended up in Sunghoon's car, driving to his house in silence. Shrugging off the moral doubts in the corner of your brain, you stared out the window into a dewy night.

Relax, you thought to yourself, there wasn't anything wrong with what you were doing.

Was there?

Taglist: Open! Send an ask or comment to be added.

484 notes · View notes

sunrizef1 · 2 days

Text

imgonnagetyouback

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!singer!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Authors note: I guess I lied about the Lando thing… this songs just so Lando I can’t explain it and I’m actually obsessed with this song rn. You probably have to at least know the premise of the song to understand the second half of this.

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍New York, New York

liked by maxfewtrell taylorswift and 13,998,887 others

yourusername hello, New York!

tagged: taylorswift

Load comments…

user1 my fav

user2 love her

user3 so pretty 🤩

taylorswift 🩵

yourusername 🤭💋

user4 welcome to New York, so real

user5 I miss Lando

user6 hi queen!!!

user7 new music when

user8 “I love NY not you” lmao Lando get up

user9 now why in the world did max like this

user10 and now Lando will post an Instagram story of him partying with some random girl to prove he’s having more fun than y/n is, we know how this goes

user11 you can not tell me they don’t miss each other

sabrinacarpenter pretty 🤩 🤩 🤩

yourusername no u 💋

user12 I just need a video of her English ass trying to navigate new York please and thx

maxfewtrell hey bestie!

yourusername oh my god get out of here

user13 wtf is max doing 😭😭

gracieabrams I ❤️ u

yourusername 🥰

oscarpiastri hi

yourusername hi?

———————————————

landonorris added to their story

user14

Now wtf

user15

user10 was right

user16

Alright ig

oscarpiastri

oh okay

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

oscarpiastri

Still can't believe you convinced me to do that

yourusername

You'll be fine, ill get you concert tickets

can't even tell its you either

oscarpiastri

fine

they better be vip

yourusername

Dw they will be

—————-

maxfewtrell

???

yourusername

Dw its just Oscar

maxfewtrell

Jesus i cant believe you

yourusername

He started it. This is the first time I've included a guy in my posts, landos been doing it for months

maxfewtrell

you're gonna be the death of me

yourusername

💋💋💋💋

maxfewtrell

take care of yourself though y/n

yourusername

I am

Thx tho max 🫶

maxfewtrell

Yeah yeah 🙄

——————————————

yourusername

📍Paris, France

liked by charles_leclerc oscarpiastri and 21,008,771 others

yourusername I can tell when somebody still wants me

load comments…

user17 oh yay they're gonna sneak diss in their Insta captions again

user18 I miss dad ☹️

user19 she's so pretty omg

maxfewtrell oh wonderful we’re doing this now

yourusername leave

user20 lando its your turn

user21 IM IN LOVE WITH HER

charles_leclerc I'm amused

yourusername congrats

user22 they're so messy I love them

oscarpiastri great he's about to drag me into doing something stupid because of this

yourusername that is not my problem

user23 I sense new music coming along

user24 I do genuinely think he still wants her lowk

user25 they want eachother, don't lie. Its defo mutual

user26 😍😍😍

taylorswift 🤩

yourusername 🥰

jackantonoff 🤪

liker by yourusername

user27 why is jack here???? New music???

————————————————

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell martingarrix and 12,008,998 others

landonorris I have what I want

load comments…

user28 oh… yay

user29 🤩🤩🤩

user30 say what you want about their shitty personalities but they sure do know how to make an aesthetic post

user31 the shade is immense

maxfewtrell im nauseous

landonorris 👍

user32 they’re so into each other it’s actually insane

user33 OH MY GOD WE GET IT YOU MISS EACHOTHER

user34 🤩🤩🤩

user35 he’s so fine

user35 LANDO-

user36 now what’s y/n gonna do

user37 how long until they both apologize and get back together… these are not the posts of people who have healthily moved on from their previous relationship

user38 fine as hell lowk

oscarpiastri this is 100% the most healthy way to handle this

landonorris I didn’t ask

user39 all of their friends are so annoyed and it’s so funny

———————————————

yourusername added to their story

maxfewtrell

Is this a song where you admit you’re still in love with Lando so you both can finally get over your emotional immaturity???

yourusername

kinda

maxfewtrell

Oh fr?

I thought you’d just be mean to him for the whole song

yourusername

Uhhh-

——————————————

yourusername

liked by sabrinacarpenter taylorswift and 21,000,111 others

yourusername imgonnagetyouback out now 🩶

Load comments…

user40 IM GONNA GET YOU BACK

user41 oh my god it’s so good

user42 LANDO GET UP

user43 THE CAPTION FROM PARIS WAS A SONG LYRICCCCC

user44 oh so she’s still in love with him

user45 “you were never not mine” 💀

user46 I CAN FEEL IT COMING HUMMIN IN THE WAY YOU MOVE

user47 PUSH THE RESET BUTTON WERE BECOMING SOMETHING NEW

user48 SAY YOU GOT SOMEBODY ILL SAY IVE GOT SOMEONE TOO

user49 EVEN IF ITS HANDCUFFED IM LEAVING HERE WITH YOU

user50 “I’m an Aston Martin” okay lance strollll

oscarpiastri “I’ve got someone too” no you do not 💀

yourusername oh my god shut up

user51 she’s still in love with him dhmu

maxfewtrell when I asked if this was going to be emotionally healthy and not a diss I can now see why you were conflicted…. Bit of both tbh

yourusername 🫶

maxfewtrell 👎

user52 told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same 😭

user53 SO GOOD

user54 WHETHER IM GONNA BE YOUR WIFE????

——————————————

landonorris added to their story

maxfewtrell

…

what does this achieve

landonorris

What do you want

maxfewtrell

Mate come on

you’re still obviously in love with her

and the song litteraly shows she’s still in love with you

all you’ve done is post a thirst trap of yourself with song lyrics on top

landonorris

It’s not a thirst trap

maxfewtrell

I hate both of you

text her mate

you’re happier together

And I’m tired of both of you annoying the shit out of me

landonorris

Fine

Maybe I will

maxfewtrell

Thank god

It’d be the first time you listened to me

—————————————

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

maxfewtrell

That better be Lando or so help me god

yourusername

Calm your tits

It is

maxfewtrell

YEAHHHH

Finally

I can stop playing matchmaker

yourusername

😒😒😒😒

————————————————

oscarpiastri

Oh so this means you’ll both stop dragging me into your dumb shit

yourusername

🖕🖕🖕🖕

oscarpiastri

🫶

———————————————

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris

liked by yourusername maxfewtrell and 13,001,881 others

landonorris told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same

load comments…

user55 YEAHHHHHHH

user56 Y/N LIKED WE’RE SO BACK

user57 my favs

user58 my parents are back together 😭

user59 unlike your real ones

user58 woah???

user59 🤷‍♀️ it’s the truth

user60 I missed them so much 😭😭😭

user61 admitted you love your ex-gf on main, this is self-improvement

yourusername pick your poison, babe

landonorris I’m poison either way

user62 I appreciate the repeating lyrics at each other because it is cute but those are not the kindest lyrics to be repeating 😭

user63 who knew that shit-talking your ex in a song could get him to re-admit his love for you

maxfewtrell took you long enough

landonorris legitimately who asked you

maxfewtrell I’m the reason this even happened in the first place. Watch your tone.

landonorris thanks i guess

maxfewtrell “I guess” @/yourusername this is how happy he is to have you back

yourusername landoooo

landonorris sorry. Thank you so much max, I’m so grateful you brought the loml back to me.

maxfewtrell you’re welcome ☺️

—————————————

yourusername

liked by landonorris maxfewtrell and 20,887,991 others

yourusername got you back

load comments…

user64 she got him back 🥹

user65 YEAHHHHH LFG

user66 awwwww

user67 I love them so much

user68 sleeping on the highway tonight 🫶

oscarpiastri 🥳🥳🥳

liked by yourusername

user69 these pictures are so cute oh my god 😭

user70 IM GONNA GET YOU BACK

landonorris you decided wether you’re gonna be my wife or smash up my bike yet?

yourusername still not sure… maybe both 🤔

user71 BOTH?????

user72 YEAH YEAH THATS FUNNY AND ALL BUT SHE JUST SAID SHE’D MARRY HIM

maxfewtrell congratulations nerds

yourusername thanks mate

user73 I’m in love with both of them

user74 they’re both so much happier together I really hope they stick this time

user75 and when she releases a love album then what

landonorris ily 🫶

yourusername ily2 🫶

user76 Jesus Christ they’re such teenagers 😭 USE FULL WORDS 😭😭😭

user77 no I get them. I wouldn’t post full love confessions in an Instagram comment section either lmao

user78 they got each other back 🫶

———————————————

Taglist: @casperlikej @evie-119

#lando norris x female reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau

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itaipava · 21 hours

Text

— forms of non-sexual intimacy with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

kind of intimacy where you guys do things together that lead to inside jokes and private memories; a beautiful feeling of closeness that comes from working in unison. sometimes it's so subtle and unexpected, it's like the two of you lose your way going somewhere the two of you have never been and one is responsible for the driving and the other for the navigation. maybe a bit of a fight here and there, but both still working together to reach your destination and knowing you’re never really lost as long as the other is around.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

kind of intimacy where actions speak louder than words. making - or at least trying - each other's lives a little easier, a little lighter, a little smoother, a little prettier, and a little more bearable. having breakfast ready so you don't forget it when you're in a hurry. wash and dry dishes together after dinner. leaving little love notes in your things to make you smile. the little things he would do only for those he is really close to.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

his favorite form of intimacy is where the two of you give each other undivided and unique attention when you're together; being as busy as he is and having a lot to think about, there's something so beautiful and comforting about focusing on just one person: you. that means ignoring notifications and anything that bothers him aside when he's with you. leaving certain places earlier to spend more time with you. looking adoringly into each other's eyes at random moments where you can swear there are only the two of you in the world.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

distracted physical touches, usually out of habit. when you are watching tv; he reaches out and strokes your hair, plays with your earlobes, or nudges you gently with his foot. and even when you are in public or with other people, he finds himself playing with your hands, your fingers, tracing patterns on your palm or the back of your hand with his thumb, all while casually conversing with another person.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

bathing together; the form of intimacy in which you fully discover yourself and can appreciate every physical aspect while sharing a genuine and loving atmosphere. him gently washing your body with care and delicacy, as if he had all the time in the world to discover every little universe hidden in your body; he leaves soft kisses on your shoulder and neck as he washes your hair, which makes you smile because together with the little ripples of hot water they tickle your skin. being totally comfortable in each other's presence is what he's always wanted for the two of you since the beginning, and seeing your love growing every day makes his heart race with happiness in his chest.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

the form of intimacy that grows on common interests and activities. for him, there's nothing quite like coming together because of a mutual love for a particular tv show, or during an animated monopoly game or mobile games, or an underrated book. thinking about each other whenever see or hear about it. simple but precious memories resulting from losing sleep because you were too excited at that show or playing together all night.

˒ ⌕ LIAM LAWSON

the kind of intimacy that only grows and flourishes with time, the true meaning of “making life” together. the kind where the two of you help each other grow in every aspect of life; supporting and rooting for each other's victory but also being there and taking care of each other in defeats. it's when you start to know each other's thoughts, times and patterns as if there is an invisible bond that grows each day between the two of you; like it always connects the two of you even when you're not physically together. it's the form of intimacy where you only know and understand each other on a very deep level.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

a kind of pure, genuine intimacy that encourages each other; listen to each other's dreams, fears, stories and secrets without judgment and show that no matter what, you will be there for each other. always cheering and supporting each other's hobbies, which always makes your heart warm to remember that someone is genuinely rooting for you and that even if you fail, that person will not give up on you.

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alotofpockets · 2 days

Text

Flirting & friendzones | Leah Williamson x Arsenal/Swiss!Reader

Where Leah is a flirt and you are scared to give in to your feelings

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.6k

-----

Moving to a new club always brought some nerves with it, but luckily your national team captain and close friend Lia Wälti had been at your new club for years. Through her you had met some of her teammates for quick moments on the field during national team games over the years, but you didn't have much more of a connection with them.

While that connection wasn't there, you had kept one secret from Lia, and that was that you had a crush on her best friend Leah ever since she first introduced the two of you on the pitch years ago. You had never acted on your crush on the England captain more than following her on Instagram, but now you'd be playing at the same club as her, which brought a whole different wave of nerves your way.

You were welcomed at Arsenal with open arms, as Lia had ensured you. Each and everyone of your teammates, and the staff members made you feel right at home. Lia had helped you secure an apartment before you had arrived, so you had your own space right away.

After your first training, Lia invited you to come hang out and Beth and Viv their place. A regular hangout spot according to her, especially since they just got a new puppy. Lia drove you home from training, and told you she’d pick you up in an hour to head over to Beth and Viv’s.

An hour later your doorbell rang, but when you opened the door it was Leah instead of Lia. “Hey, Lia had to run some errands before heading over to the girls, so she asked me to pick you up instead.” Leah had taken the request to ‘pick you up’ to a whole new level as she started flirting with you.

“You look great by the way.” She started while you walked over to her car. Just a simple friendly comment you thought, but still the blush rushed to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You said before quickly getting a step ahead of the blonde, to make sure she wouldn’t notice your blushing.

Of course Leah noticed right away and would now make it her mission to see you blush. “I mean it, you clean up nice. Haven’t seen you outside of football kits in person.” You reach the door and she opens your side for you. “Seems like a great date outfit too, if you even need a dinner date to wear it to, you know where to find me.” She left you frozen in place with her comment, and closed your door only to get in on the other side with a big smirk on her face.

“So, how has London been treating you so far?” You started telling Leah about your first week there, happy to no longer be the target of her flirting. At least that is what you thought until she followed up with, “Good to hear! If you ever need a tour guide, I am more than happy to volunteer.” On its own it wouldn’t be flirting, but the way she looked at you while you said it, gave the sentence a whole different meeting.

“I really appreciate it, but Lia is showing me around already.” You said as you got out of the car, as you arrived at the girls' house. “Always Lia, huh?” She acted hurt. “Well, if she ever gets too busy, give me a call.” You walked up to the door quickly, “Oh look at that, we’re here.” You say as Beth opens the door. Darting inside without even saying a proper hello, propping yourself up between Viv and Kim who were already cuddling with Myle.

Beth turned her attention to Leah, “Damn, what did you do?” She shrugs her shoulders, “Nothing.” In return Beth raised an eyebrow towards Leah, but she didn’t push further. Instead she turned her attention to you. “Glad you could make it. I see Myle made a new friend already!” Myle had gotten comfortable in your lap and started taking a nap there only moments after you had sat down. “She’s very cute.” You comment while looking at the pup lovingly. “I understand why everyone wants to hang out at your place.” You joke.

The conversations between everyone started flowing freely, and you felt immediately accepted into the group of girls. Leah continued her flirting with the rest of the girls around, which piqued the interest of the girls, though they didn’t say anything. Only the occasional chuckle when you would turn Leah down again.

It was hard having to say no to the woman you had been crushing on for years, but you had just joined a new club and she was co-captain of it, as well as Lia’s best friend. It didn’t seem right to act on your feelings, even though Leah was acting on them plenty. You came here to play football, you kept reminding yourself.

Half an hour later Lia arrived, carrying in a few bags of groceries. “Sorry, it was quite busy at the store. What did I miss?” Some of the girls looked between you and Leah and wondered if they should poke some fun at the situation, but before they could, you answered her question. “Nothing much, we were just talking about how cute Myle is.”

Lia, who had handed the groceries over to Viv, sat down beside you with a smile on her face. “She really is adorable. I’m glad to see you fit right in, I was worried about leaving you out here on your own.” It really did feel like you fit right in.

“You don’t need to worry,” Leah interjected smoothly. “she wasn’t alone. I was here to make sure she’s well taken care of.” Her comment earned her a loud chuckle from Vic, who hurried to the kitchen to hide her laughter. Lia shot her best friend a look. “I’m sure you were, Lee.”

After dinner, Lia drove you home. “I am so happy you’re feeling at home already. How are the girls?” She asked while exiting the parking space. “Yeah, they’re really kind. I couldn’t have asked for a warmer welcome.” Lia was truly happy you found your spot within her little family at the club.

She turned to you with a smirk. “What?” You asked instantly, already not liking the look on her face. “Don’t what me.” She laughs, “I was just going to ask what about Leah?” The slight blush that creeped up to your cheeks should’ve said enough. “Leah has been kind too, very kind.” Lia chuckled at your expression. “Kind? That girl has been flirting with you since the moment you arrived.” Your eyes widened, Lia had noticed.

“Relax! Why do you think I introduced you all those years ago? You are literally perfect for each other. Back then I didn’t tell you my reasoning, because I didn’t think it would be fair to try and set you up with someone that lived in a different country.” She let that set in for a moment before she asked again, “So, what about Leah?” Her smirk grew again.

“Leah is great. I think I’ve kind of been pushing her into the friendzone though.” Lia stopped the car. You hadn’t been paying attention, not that you knew the roads yet, but you knew that you weren’t at your place or Lia’s. “It’s a good thing that Leah doesn’t easily give up, go shoot your shot.” You sent her a confused look, “Right now?” She points to the building ahead of you, “Yup, right now. That’s her place right there. Her car is here already, so she just got back as well.” She unbuckled your seatbelt, “Go!” You shake your head at her but get out of the car anyway. “Call me when you need a ride back.”

You walk up to Leah’s door nervously, but knock nonetheless. When Leah opens the door, Lia decides to drive off. “Oh, hi, come in. Finally done with Lia?” You roll her eyes at how her flirting turned right back on.

She walks you into her home, and you get right to the point. “Can we talk about today?” Leah’s face turns serious, feeling like she might have messed up. “Oh, I’m sorry if I was taking it too far. I thought there was a vibe, sorry if I read that wrong.” You shake your head, “No, no don’t worry. Actually it was me wanting to apologise. I was kind of pushing you towards the friendzone, because I didn’t want to mess anything up with Lia or the team.”

Leah’s lips curve into a smile again, “But now you’re throwing me a ladder to come back out of the friendszone?” Her tone is hopeful. “If I’m not too late, yeah.” The blonde shakes her head, “Definitely not too late.”

Now that the big conversation was out of the way, you finally felt like it was okay to sit down. “You know Lia has been rooting for us for years?” You nod remembering the conversation in the car. “Yeah, she told me on the way here. I had no clue that this had been her intention all along.”

Leah sits down beside you, “You know, I’ve liked you ever since we met when our teams played against each other that time Lia introduced us.” Your cheeks heat up again, “I have liked you since that day too.”

Her eyes light up, “So, can we give this a try?” Her tone was hopeful again. “Yes, I’d like that.” With that, Leah closes the distance and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. When you pull back, both of you are smiling.

“Want to stay for a while? I can drive you home wherever you want to go home.” You smile, “Yeah,” You’d love to spend more time with Leah. “I’ll text Lia and let her know that I won’t be needing that ride anymore.”

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x you #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc #lia walti x reader #lia walti #engwnt #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #lionesses x reader

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uzurakis · 3 days

Note

what about sfw or nsfw if you wanna take it that way of the jjk boys with clingy reader. they secretly love how much she loves/adores them.

BEING CLINGY WITH THEM?

featuring: fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. geto suguru. nanami kento.

n. hi lovely, thank you for requesting! i decided to go with sfw and kept it simple n easy to read. enjoy :D

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you've noticed that he's not accustomed to physical touches. every time you go in for a hug, he tenses up, his body stiffening momentarily before he relaxes into the embrace. but you can feel the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way his breath catches for a split second before he surrenders to the warmth of your touch.

you know in your heart that megumi likes it even though he doesn't express it. even though his restrained demeanor often gives the impression that he is far away, the way he leans in closer to you during your embraces says plenty. and you'll know that your affection is felt when you see him glance at you and blush softly after one of your embraces.

you feel the familiar tension in his body as you pull megumi into a gentle hug. "hey, 'gumi," you say softly, "i'm here for you." he stiffens for a moment before relaxing slightly into your embrace. "i know," he replies quietly. you can feel the steady beat of his heart on yours as you hold him close, and you know that one hug at a time, your love is slowly but surely dissolving the barriers he's put up around himself.

ITADORI YUUJI. your boyfriend thrives on physical closeness, and you love how he eagerly wraps his arms around you at every opportunity. whether you're cuddled up on the couch watching movies or simply walking down the street, itadori's hand is always intertwined with yours. his touch is comforting and reassuring, and you find yourself craving it constantly.

what's even better is that itadori adores your clinginess just as much as you love his. he lights up whenever you initiate physical contact, whether it's stealing kisses or wrapping your arms around him from behind. both of you articulate the language of love in your relationship with ease; physical affection is the language. every embrace, every caress, every moment spent curled up in each other's arms deepens your relationship.

as you cuddle up to itadori on the couch, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. "i love it when you're this close to me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your crown. you smile up at him, feeling content in his embrace. "i just can't help it. being close to you feels so right," you confess. itadori chuckles softly, his steady breath warm against your body. "well, i'm not complaining. i could stay like this forever."

GETO SUGURU. there's an unspoken understanding that he's open to anything, especially your clinginess. he adores it so much that it's become a cherished part of your dynamic. you love how he welcomes your affection with open arms, never hesitating to pull you close or return your tight embraces. there's a comfort in his touch that you can't quite explain, a sense of belonging that washes over you whenever you're in his arms.

and geto? he revels in your clinginess, finding joy in every moment spent wrapped up with you. he loves the way you fit perfectly against him, as if you were made to be intertwined with each other.

he's busy making supper when you put your arms around him from behind, and he falls back into your embrace with a satisfied smile on his lips. "you know, i could get used to this," he says in a warm, gentle voice. savoring the closeness of the moment, you plant a kiss on the nape of his neck. you whisper, "me too," your heart fluttering with romance.

NANAMI KENTO. his reserved nature is evident in everything he does. he's composed, controlled, and rarely shows his emotions openly. however, there's one thing that always catches him off guard—your touch. each time you give him a hug or plant a peck on his cheek, nanami's stoic facade crumbles just a little. his breath catches, and for a fleeting moment, you see a hint of predisposition in his eyes.

it's in those moments that you feel closest to him, when his defenses are down, and he lets you in just a little bit more. and despite his reserved nature, nanami never fails to reciprocate your affection, albeit in his own subtle way.

you extend your hand to embrace nanami, and he tenses up a little at being touched by you. "i wasn't expecting that," he admits, with a trace of shock in his voice. you squeeze him tenderly and say, "i just wanted to show you how much i care." with a softening face, nanami eases into your embrace and wraps his arms around you in response, "thank you, i appreciate it."

@uzurakis

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nottobehornyonthemain · 2 days

Text

The pool scene is awesome. But it’s also extremely painful.

Because on the one hand you have Gideon, who is very repressed, something we’re probably not expecting as an audience, because she is a brash, agressive, openly queer woman. There’s a weird expectation that girls are somehow more in touch with their feelings (this is dumb). But also we live in a heteronormative society, and it’s unusual for us to see out queer folks who haven’t had to actually think critically about their emotions and come to terms with with them. Which, Gideon has not done.

So she’s in this position where she does not think that Harrowhark is capable of feeling affection or love, and that the strongest emotion Harrow is capable of is hate. Gideon knows 100% for a fact that Harrow hates her, so that means she is important to Harrow.

Except that Harrow *is* apparently capable of love and affection. Which means that when she says that she doesn’t think about Gideon that often because there are things she cares about more, she’s not just saying it to get under Gideon’s skin. Which means that Gideon isn’t as important to Harrow as she thought she was. And this upsets her deeply for reasons she can’t fully explain or understand.

On the other hand you have Harrow, she just told her greatest secret, and received forgiveness, understanding, and genuine human comfort in return. So she looks at the world as though it is filled with egg-eating snakes and she is protecting an egg. So she makes Gideon promise to go home and do the thing her family has been tasked with for generations. We, as the audience, have only gotten like five scenes with Harrowhark fully aware of everything post pool-scene, and in two of them she is destroying herself so that Gideon can have even the smallest chance of life.

Because Gideon just had her heart broken into a thousand tiny shards and can’t even express why, meanwhile Harrow thinks they’re married now.

If they had just a few more hours to talk to each other afterwards I fully believe that they would have worked a lot of this shit out. I guess that’s the tragedy. Even in their moment of seeing each other clearly for the first time, they still don’t understand each other.

#the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #gideon nav #tlt #harrowhark nonagesimus #tlt spoilers #gideon the ninth spoilers #tlt gideon #tlt harrow #griddlehark #the sheep ramble analysis

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chrzzboo · 3 days

Text

(Un)forgettable Birthday

Summary: You've never been a fan of your own birthday but that changes thanks to a certain F1 driver.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff

Note: I'm back from the death 🤪 I know it's been a while and i deeply apologize for it 🙏 but school has been a mess with deadlines everywhere. to make it up to y'all I'm back with a new fic. Enjoy!

Loud music drilling into my eardrums, colorfull lights decorating the place and people’s chatter filling the room. I’m currently at my close friend’s Kika’s birthday party, accompanied by my boyfriend Lando. Speaking of him I don’t know where that guy is but he’s probably doing Lando things somewhere so I couldn’t care less. Right now I’m talking with a few of my friends and the birthday girl herself.

“Wauw Kika you planned this party so well!” “Yes, honestly one of the best ones I’ve been to in a while!” Was heard from Carmen and her sister. Kika smiled “I know right! All thanks to Pierre he helped me plan most of it!” I smiled seeing her happy. “You’re very lucky Kika!”

We continued chatting spilling the tea that we hadn’t told each other yet and were just joking around as well.

I was feeling so comfortable until the topic of birthdays came to light again.

“Y/n your birthday is in a couple of days, what are the plans?” I started moving around a bit uncomfortably on my feet before replying. “Euhm I don’t know birthdays aren’t really my thing.” All the girls looked at me with frowns on their faces. “What do you mean? Celebrating your birthday is one of the most important things in your life!”. I looked at her not very convinced. “I mean it’s just like any other day it’s not like I’ve ever celebrated it. It’s just a normal day for me tbh.” The girls looked at me with a sad smile before Carmen broke the silence. “At the end of the day it’s your birthday so it’s up to you what you do.” I smiled at her thanking her for understanding me.

I quickly changed the subject because it was making me kinda uncomfortable since I don’t like it when other people feel bad for me. So we carried on talking and without noticing that Lando had heard everything despite the loud music.

~~~

Later that night Lando had found his way back to me and we were currently enjoying each others company. Lando had his arms wrapped around my waist from the back while I rested my head on his chest enjoying the vibe around me. Lando kept thinking back about your words from earlier it all makes sense now. Because every single time he had asked you what you wanted to do for your birthday you declined it stating that you were too busy with work. He shook of those thoughts and decided to bring it up again.

“Are you enjoying yourself love?” I looked at him smiling. “Very much!” Lando hums meanwhile trying to figure out how to ask you about your birthday.

“Babe question but don’t get angry please”. I look at him confused “Baby what did you do?” Now fully turning to face him. He pulls me closer and holds me tighter.

“Nothing nothing don’t worry about it! But first promise!” I roll my eyes at him. “Alright I promise!” “Babe say: I promise I won’t get mad at you!” I looked at him annoyed “Lando!” “Alright alright” he took a hold of my hands and started speaking again. “What do you want for your birthday?” I sigh looking at him. “I told you already my birthday is just like any other day so I don’t need anything.”

Well that’s kinda a lie the only truth is that I don’t need a gift from him since I don’t like him spending money on me. But to be honest I’ve never had a birthday party or anyone caring about it. When I was younger my parents didn’t pay attention to me at all so why would they even bother giving me a nice birthday. At uni people only congratulated me with their words nothing much and the same goes to my work colleagues. So that’s why I always told people I didn’t like my birthday simply because I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve never had the birthday experience everyone else had before.

“Babe I don’t know who put those words in your head but you’re important and so is your birthday! I mean we’ve got to celebrate the day that my amazing sexy gorgeous girlfriend was born.” I laughed at his words “I appreciate that love but there’s more to that than a simple birthday party.”

Lando looked at me confused before I decided to tell him the truth. He looked at me with wide eyes. He knew that my bond with my parents wasn’t the best but forgetting about their child’s birthday was something he didn't understand.

“Anyways we’re at a party we have to enjoy our selfs and not mop around.” Before he could reply to me I was swept away by one of my friends to go and get some drinks.

Lando kept staring at me watching me disappear in the crowd. “Yo bro what are you doing here all alone? People are gonna think you’re a weirdo or sum staring at everyone like that.” Was heard from his bestfriend max.

Lando stared at max for a few seconds before getting an idea. “I want to throw a surprise birthday party for y/n” Max looked at him confused. “Birthday party? Doesn’t y/n hate them?” “Well yeah but there was a reason for that and all I know is that we can heal her inner child with throwing a birthday party for her. So are you gonna help me?”

Max looked at him surprised, he knew that you two had an amazing relationship but he didn’t expect Lando to do this much for you.

“Alright bro I will but stop staring at me with that creepy smile as if you sitting here alone wasn’t already creepy enough.”

~~~

The following days Lando kept himself busy with all the arrangements for your birthday. Even though he was busy with his work he always found a gap to fix stuff for your birthday surprise.

Currently he was at home on the phone with Max deciding the last few things to finish off the secret birthday party.

“Alright so you have the invitations ready right?” Lando asked his best friend. “Of course all we have to do is sent them out without y/n noticing.” Lando hums “Yeah exactly we have to be extremely careful because y/n always finds out about the smallest things.”

He laughs remembering one time he had planned a surprise date but it was all ruined because you had figured it out, all because you heard him make a reservation on the phone for a restaurant.

“Alright Max send me the invites and I will send them out.” “What invites?” Lando looked at you nervously. “Euhm Max I will call you back.”

Without letting him reply Lando hung up the phone. “Oh baby you’re back early?” You looked at him confused “what do you mean ? I always come back around this time?” Lando gulped hoping you didn’t hear the entire conversation. “But answer me Lando what invites were you talking about.” Lando looks around trying to find an excuse. “Euhm a friend of Max needed invitations and he asked me where I had gotten mine done from my party last year.”

You look at him not very convinced but decided to let it slide. “Okey… anyways let’s go eat I’m starving.” Lando sighs in relief happy that you fell for his lie. “Alright baby you go first I will come right after.”

Later that night laying in bed Lando was occupied by his phone. “Babe can you put that phone down for a second and give me attention please.”

Lando looked at me for a second and quickly turned back to his phone. “One second babe this is important” “But that’s what you’ve been saying all day long.” Without sparing a glance at me Lando replied with a quick “Please baby I will give you all my attention after this.”

Suddenly his phone starts ringing and he goes out of the room to take it but not without quickly kissing my forehead. I huff and turn to the other side to sleep.

The next day when I woke up Lando was nowhere to be seen, so I figured that he went to the gym.

Getting up I went to wash up and get ready for the day. While I was getting ready I got a sudden thought. It’s kinda weird how Lando went from bugging me about my birthday to radio silence in a few days. I brushed it off figuring it was probably because he’s so occupied with racing and all.

Going into the kitchen to make some breakfast for myself, the calendar on the board in kitchen caught my eye. Checking the date I got a little sad knowing that it’s my birthday tomorrow.

“Honestly I would sell my kidney to be able to skip tomorrow.” (Dramatic much innit) Sighing I go back to what I was doing.

The next day I woke up without Lando next to me again. I hoped that he would’ve stayed a bit longer in bed to wish me at least a happy birthday.

“Maybe he left a message or something.” I grab my phone but I see nothing. Only a few congratulations from my co-workers and friends but that’s it. Not even from my own boyfriend.

I’m used to be disappointed on my birthday but even then when my boyfriend would congratulate me it would make me a bit less sad but I guess today is going to be full of disappointment. I got out of bed to get ready for the day.

While I was making breakfast I got a text from Kika.

I smile at her message. At first I wanted to decline her offer but then I thought about the fact that my own boyfriend didn’t do shit for my birthday so why not.

“This is the least I could do to get that birthday feeling I guess.” Sighing to myself I reply to her and started to get ready.

~~~

“There she is the beautiful birthday girl.” Kika immediately engulfs me in a hug followed by the rest of the girls.

“Hey why do you look so sad girly cheer up it’s your birthday!” I looked at here with a forced smile deciding not to tell her the truth about Lando and all that.

“Nothing nothing let’s go bestie your wallet needs to spent some money on me.” I smirk winking at her. She gives me a fake angry huff but it's quickly replaced with a laugh since she can’t stay serious for a moment. “Alright girly let’s go!”

~~~

I was having an amazing time but I kept checking my phone with hopes for a message from my boyfriend. But every time I was met with disappointment. I didn’t want the girls to question it so I put on a fake smile and carried on with the lunch date.

“Alright girls it was a nice lunch but I have to go.” “NO!” Kika yelled panicked making me confused.

“Euhm you can’t leave yet we have to get you a cake first girly.” She looked quite nervous.

“You know that you don’t have to right.” I looked at her with suspicion. “Euhm.. I know but we wanted to so let’s go!”

And with that I was pulled into Kika’s car heading to what I assumed was a bakery.

“Francesca we’ve been driving for a while now how far is this bakery actually?”

I stared to get annoyed because we had been on the road for half an hour now and the rest of the girls that were with us during lunch also disappeared but I was too annoyed to even ask about them.

“We’re here girl calm your tits yeah.” I stepped out of the car but I was met with a big building. Looking at Kika confused I decided to ask her about this.

“Girl I ain’t no baker or anything but this is for sure no bakery.” She looked at me sheepishly. “Doesn’t matter girl let’s go in.”

Before I could even reply she dragged me in. The place was dark but I could tell that it was big.

“Kika what in the world is this?” Without saying anything to me she pushed me forward. And before I could question her even more the lights suddenly turned on.

“SURPRISE!!!”

I was shocked I stood there frozen trying to process everything. Everyone that I knew was there: my friends, family, colleagues and most importantly my boyfriend.

I was pulled out of my shocked state by Lando pulling me into him. “Happy birthday beautiful you deserve all of this.” I couldn't contain my emotions and soon the tears started pouring down my face.

“You did all of this?” I looked at him still shocked. He smiled and wiped my tears away.

“Of course baby like I said before you deserve it.” “I thought you forgot.” I tell him with new tears pooling in my eyes.

“I could never baby I’ve been planning this all week long, I told you we had to celebrate the day my sexy and gorgeous girl was born.”

I smile at him slightly pushing his shoulder laughing at his words. I pull him by his collar and connect our lips together.

“Thank you so much Lan this means the world to me.” Before he could reply Kika came in between us.

“Girl c'mon we have to celebrate properly you can eat each other’s faces later.” She winks. “C’mon beautiful let’s enjoy this day.” I smile taking his hand. For the first time in my life I enjoyed my own birthday.

~~~

I had a blast we danced, sang, drank and I even got presents! This day was simply amazing but also a bit overwhelming so I went to get some fresh air outside.

“Here you’re birthday girl, I was looking for you beautiful. What are you doing here alone?”

I smile a the voice of my boyfriend. “I wanted a bit of fresh air it was all a bit too overwhelming.”

He smiled sitting down next me. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer to his chest.

“I understand pretty girl, but you deserve all of this you know?.” He said kissing the top of my head. “It’s just nice to finally have a real birthday. Thank you so much baby.” “Of course beautiful today is all about you and I just wanted to show you that you also matter.”

I smile looking up at him. “Thank you handsome for making this an unforgettable birthday. I love you.” He smiles grabbing my face with both of his hands and joining our lips together. “I love you too baby.”

He gives me one more kiss before standing up. “Let’s go back inside pretty girl, and enjoy the rest of your special day.” He holds his hand out for me to take. With our fingers laced together we head back inside.

It’s safe to say that for the first time in my life my birthday felt like an actual birthday and all it took was an amazing man that drives cars for a living to fulfill my wish.

The end.

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #formula one #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando fanfic #lando f1 #f1 fluff #f1 fic #Spotify

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httpswritings · 16 hours

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hips, your lips, they're mine

alexia putellas x reader; 1378 words; smut

Still bare from the night before, a mischievous glint sparked in your eyes as you stretched languidly. The sheets cascaded down, revealing your form to Alexia, who froze mid-shirt-dress.

"Amor..." she began, a hesitant plea laced with a hint of possessiveness.

"What?" you teased, feigning innocence. "You're running late, but a girl can enjoy herself, right?"

Your fingers trailed up your body in a deliberate caress, sending shivers down your spine. You lingered at your breasts, gently pinching your nipples, eliciting a soft moan that escaped your lips. You locked eyes with Alexia; your gaze playful yet provocative.

"Amor, I truly have to go," she insisted, her voice strained.

"Then go," you countered, a smirk dancing on your lips. "I'm not stopping you."

"But you are," she countered, a hint of defiance in her jawline. "You know exactly what you're doing."

"Just some harmless self-love in bed," you shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Where else would I do it? Maybe next door?"

A flicker of annoyance crossed Alexia's face at the mention of Marc. He had made a pass at you when you first moved in, oblivious to your relationship. Youknew this was a sore spot.

"He shouldn't have to hear this," she mumbled, the possessiveness undeniable.

"Maybe the whole building has heard me moaning your name," you purred, leaning closer. "Wouldn't that show everyone how good you make me feel?"

Alexia perched on the edge of the bed, torn between her need to leave and the possessiveness your words ignited.

"Do they?" she whispered, a sliver of vulnerability in her eyes. "The thought of them hearing something so intimate..."

"Isn't that the point, amor?" you murmured, brushing against her leg. "To show everyone you're mine? Especially Marc, perhaps he should understand the effect you have on me."

The reminder of Marc sparked a playful fire in Alexia's eyes. Her gaze traveled down your body, lingering on your taut nipples. A slow smile spread across her face, and she licked her lips suggestively.

"Alright, you win," she conceded, a playful glint replacing the possessiveness. She climbed onto your lap, sending a jolt of desire through you.

"Can I make some noise, or should I be considerate of the neighbors?" you teased, your voice husky.

"Make all the noise you want, mi amor," she replied, a possessive edge creeping into her voice. "Let that idiot know his place."

“Ale, maybe he's not even home.”

Lost in the pleasure of Alexia's touch, a moan escaped your lips. Her kisses were unlike anything you'd ever experienced—a blend of tenderness and passion that sent shivers down your spine. You reached up, brushing a stray hair from her face, and met her gaze. The jealousy had vanished, replaced by a deep affection that made your heart skip a beat.

You leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that spoke volumes about your love for her.

Though a part of you enjoyed the possessiveness earlier, you knew what Alexia truly needed was reassurance and intimacy.

You could feel she was insecure; that's why she had been insisting on letting everyone know she was the one who had you.

You showered her face with kisses, trailing down her neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of wet kisses and gentle nips. You knew these sent shivers down her spine—a secret language between the two of you. A soft giggle escaped her lips, and the sound was pure music to your ears.

"You're beautiful," you murmured, tracing a finger down her cheek. A playful blush rose on her face as she playfully rolled her eyes.

"Let me be in charge of today, okay?" you whispered, a newfound confidence in your voice.

A smile bloomed on her face. "Absolutely."

Your roles reversed, and as you explored her body, you reveled in the beautiful sounds she made. It wasn't just about you letting everyone know she was yours, but about showcasing the depth of your connection and the way you made each other feel.

“I want everyone to know how good I make you feel, sí?. Let's show them that no one else is allowed in this room.”

Alexia's eyes met yours, a silent confirmation that she understood. A mischievous grin spread across her face. This wasn't going to be a quiet affair.

You placed your core on top of Alexia's.

The rhythm of your bodies became a silent conversation, a language only the two of you understood. You watched, mesmerized, as Alexia arched her back, a delicious moan escaping her lips.

You adored watching Alexia below your body.

It made you feel powerful.

You began to move your hips slowly as your breasts moved in sync with them.

“I love watching you on top, amor. I think it's one of my favorite positions.”

Alexia's hands were enjoying their time touching your breasts, but she moved them to your hips, gripping them hard.

You knew how quickly Alexia orgasmed when you were in that posture, and right now your main priority was her pleasure.

It could be the way your core rubbed against hers, but also the way you would bounce on top of her, your breasts moving uncontrollably and your hands holding onto her shoulders, making her body shake rapidly.

Sex in that position was wild.

The mattress would shake violently, and your bodies would slam each other's without any mercy.

Alexia's moans were incredibly loud.

Suddenly a loud thump echoed from the wall. Marc, your neighbor, was clearly not a fan of the enthusiastic soundtrack to your lovemaking.

Alexia's eyes fluttered open, a hint of frustration replacing the passion. She glanced at you, a silent question hanging in the air.

"I'll deal with him later," you whispered, cupping her face. "Right now, you're all that matters."

You would be very embarrassed when Marc arrived at your door to complain, but right now, your focus was on your girlfriend.

You couldn't stop. Not when you saw her so lost in pleasure, so happy, so needy for a release.

“Bebita, I'm gonna—” Alexia warned you.

You knew what she meant, and it only motivated you more to keep going until you made her squirt.

Alexia was completely lost in pleasure.

She scratched your skin, spanked your butt, held onto your neck. She did everything she could to have you as close as possible, because she would need all your attention to recover from what was about to happen.

Alexia's moans kept coming out of her mouth, and when she screamed your name, you knew she was reaching the peak of her pleasure.

You moved your hips impossibly closer to hers, making circular movements, and then it happened.

Liquid splashed out of her core as she screamed your name non-stop.

Her body was shaking violently, and you showered her with compliments and I love you's.

She gave you a thumbs up to let you know everything was fine, but you still were very cautious with her body.

You kissed her everywhere.

As she caught her breath, Alexia blushed.

"The neighbors," she mumbled, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. “They are going to complain.Well, one of them just did.”

You chuckled, finding her flustered state endearing. "It was worth it. Look at you, radiant."

"I love you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Alexia's soft side was one of the most beautiful things you had ever witnessed.

“I love you too, Alexia.”

As you both looked into each other's eyes, a loud buzzing from the doorbell shattered the peaceful silence.

“Joder, amor. What do we do now?”

Alexia began to freak out, it was adorable how soft she would always be after sex, when under normal circumstances, she would be the first one to argue with Marc.

“Fuck him, Ale.”

“Ew, no.”

“Amor!” you whined as you kissed her.

You were about to go for a second round, but the doorbell kept ringing.

Alexia's soft side was disappearing as her possessive side came into the picture.

You noticed how her gaze changed, and you decided to quit.

“Let me talk to him and maybe we can go out for a walk, like you were going to do?” you suggested.

“Fine. But I want to take a shower first. Be quick. I'll wait for you there.”

#alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader

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asshatproductions · 10 hours

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I personally don’t understand how people are getting “phone bad” from the new Doctor Who episode when privileged socialites created a colony to preserve their status and race, and technology to keep them constantly connected to each other and separated from anything else outside of them just so they can preserve prejudiced values…

#also- big side note but does anyone else find this episode the sexiest Ncuti has been so far???#just me?#okay.#doctor who #dot and bubble #fifteenth doctor #ncuti gatwa

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buckybabesonly · 1 day

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as long as we're together (does it matter where we go?)

Summary: You don't want to be a burden to Bucky, knowing he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!OC

Genre: Angst

Length: 7.8k

Two years ago

“I don’t think I want to be with you anymore.”

Bucky had expected it. Weeks of you being distant, making secret phone calls, avoiding his touches like they physically hurt you. Countless times Bucky had asked, what's wrong?, only for you to shut him down and say that everything was fine. Bucky was sick of hearing that empty, meaningless mantra, but it didn’t mean that he reveled in your confession now.

Even though it didn't come as a surprise, it still felt like a punch to the gut. It physically winded him to hear those words leave your lips.

He wondered what he did wrong. He wondered where they went wrong. They were so in love, so wonderfully content in each other's company. You were his person. Steve had once told Bucky that he would find someone unexpectedly, when Bucky made an off-hand comment about how lucky he was to have met Peggy.

“You’ll find your Peggy.”

Things had been perfect. Or maybe Bucky had just been in denial, ignoring all the problems between you because he thought that his feelings for you triumphed over everything, no matter what hardships you may have been suffering from. How could he ever face the reality that you might actually leave in pursuit of something better?

Now, Bucky’s chest was tight with an indescribable feeling, both of you stood in your shared apartment. Your belongings stuffed into a black suitcase, Bucky’s heart in pieces on the hardwood floor.

He had expected it, but it didn't stop him from wanting to die.

"Why?" It was all he could ask. He wanted to know the reason, wanted to understand. Wanted to know if he could fix it. He was desperate to make you stay.

Bucky stared at your face. You looked so...indifferent. Unattached, in contrast to the woman he had met all those years ago. Where had the softness in your eyes gone? Why couldn’t you meet his pleading gaze, even now? At what point did your feelings for him start to fade, and was there anything he could have done to salvage it?

Your face was a blank slate, emotionless, and it made Bucky feel a truly troubling combination of sadness and anger. It was as if you had already said your goodbyes to their relationship, completely ready to move on whilst Bucky was still trying to process your words. You were ready to leave him behind to mourn.

“I don’t think we’re right for each other,” you had said quietly. “I don’t think we can give each other what we need.”

"Bullshit," Bucky said, his voice cracking. You grimaced ever so slightly at his tone, still unable to meet his eyes. "How can you say that?"

He took a step forward; you matched it with a retreating step, but with wide strides he seized your wrists. He silently willed you to say something which could somehow lessen the excruciating pain.

“Will you just look at me?”

He wanted so badly for you to meet his stare, to find some source of comfort within your eyes which usually held so much love for him.

Finally, you relented and lifted your head. They did not fill Bucky with any hope. You pressed your lips together firmly as he searched your face desperately for any sign of residual affection.

"We - we're in love. How can you say after all these years that we're not right for each other? For fuck's sake, will you just tell me what happened?"

"People change, Bucky," you said softly. The look on your face - was it sadness, or apathy? "We've become too distant."

"And whose fault is that?" Bucky released you then. He was so angry, wanting to elicit some sort of reaction from you, that he wanted to punch the wall beside them. It made him feel nauseous at how stoic you were now, like a piece of unyielding rock. He knew you hated it when he took his anger out physically. You had been the one to teach him how to manage his rage more constructively, to talk things out and use his words rather than his fists.

"Are you trying to say it's mine?" Your tone was sharp, finally demonstrating some emotion. "Are you saying that all those nights waiting for you to come back home, all those evenings alone whilst you stayed at the Tower, all those hours I spent staring at the four walls of this apartment were my fault?"

"You left me!" Bucky retorted, gritting his teeth. "You left me long before today! You think I haven't noticed? You can barely stand touching me. You're always on your phone, always texting, always out seeing your 'friends'," he said, making air quotes. "I asked Wanda, she said you haven't been meeting her or your other friends for weeks. Who's this 'friend’? Who the fuck is it that's so important that you can't spare any time for me, never mind your actual friends?"

A long, pregnant pause filled the air, an indecipherable mask on your face once more. Bucky’s eyes were wet, and if he hadn't been so angry, he would've seen the way your lower lip was trembling ever so slightly, the way it did whenever you were trying not to cry. It had been the biggest telltale sign for him over the years to know when you were upset and trying your best to hide it.

He was usually so good at reading you, but he was blinded with sadness.

"Fine," you said eventually, slicing the silence with a shaky exhale. "I'm seeing someone else."

You might as well have struck Bucky across the face.

Suspecting it and hearing the words fall from your lips were two different things. He physically reeled back in anguish as he stared at you. He took in the sight of his girlfriend in front of him, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. This was, without a doubt, the woman he had met five years ago. The woman he spent five years loving. The woman whom he recognized no longer.

"Why?" Bucky whispered, all the fight leaving his body. He physically seemed to sag, forehead creasing at all the other questions running through his mind, visions of you being touched and fucked by some faceless, nameless man.

You were almost pitiful in the way you looked at Bucky, and he hated it.

"I care for you, Bucky. But I’m not in love with you anymore. And I'm sorry I had to do this to you. Things just got out of control."

I’m not in love with you anymore.

You offered no further information, but he had stopped listening, anyway. The finality in your voice pierced him slowly, tortuously, through the heart. He barely moved when you took your suitcase and pulled it out behind you, out of their apartment. Out of his life.

The door slammed shut.

Present day

You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Mercedes Knight & Samuel Wilson

Sam had become Bucky’s closest confidant in the past few years, and the latter had been a close witness as Sam met Mercedes ‘Misty’ Knight, a former NYPD officer who had somehow become roped into their crazy world. It was no surprise to Bucky when they announced their engagement just six months into dating.

Bucky found himself being pulled into their wedding planning discussions far too often. He tried to keep an amused smile at bay whilst listening into Misty and Sam’s wedding talk at the Tower. They were using one of the many conference rooms - a Knight-Wilson union was official business, Misty insisted.

"Are you bringing a date?" Misty asked suddenly in the middle of everything, the question directed at Bucky.

"Of course he's bringing a date," Sam smirked. "Heard things with Sharon are going well, right?"

Bucky smiled non-committedly, shrugging. "She's great." It didn’t go unnoticed by Sam that this didn’t quite answer his question.

"You two look good together," Misty offered. She glanced at her watch and widened her eyes theatrically, grabbing Sam’s hand. "Oh crap, we need to go meet with the wedding planner."

"But it feels like we just sat down," Sam complained.

"There's no rest for the bride and groom, Sam," Misty said, pulling her fiancé out of his seat as she waved goodbye at Bucky.

As soon as they departed, the smile on Bucky’s face dimmed. He was beyond happy for his two friends, he really was - but every couple he knew was a fresh reminder of his own failed love life.

Ever since you, he hadn't been in a long term relationship. Sharon is different, he told himself, and she was. They had been friends for a long time, and of course spent a lot of time together carrying out missions and the like. Over time, somehow, they had gotten closer, and one day Sharon had just asked him, “So when are you going to ask me out, Barnes?”

At that point, Bucky was still frequently thinking about you. Sharon had never met you before, but Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if she had heard stories about you from the others, since he had been notoriously affected by the breakup. Even though he was dealing with the aftershocks of the broken relationship, he was forcing himself to get past it.

They had been dating for two months now, and it only seemed right for Sharon to be his date at the wedding.

He had moved on. He was no longer the depressed, dark wreck he was when you left.

Sometimes it’s better to lie to yourself than to face the reality.

“You invited Bucky’s ex to the wedding?” Misty asked curiously.

“Uh, yeah. She’s not just his ex,” Sam explained gently. “She’s my friend too, and I haven’t seen her since she left town.”

"You told Bucky?"

"Nope," Sam snorted, shaking his head. "I can't. I don't think he'd turn up if I did. I want them both there on the day - I'm sure they can be civil for one night."

“I wonder how Bucky will react," his future wife pondered.

Sam shrugged. Not well, probably.

"What else can I do? I can’t not invite her, I really want her to be there. You never met her, so you don’t know, but she’s been through some shit.”

“I know, I know, you told me,” Misty said. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. Do you think she'll be okay seeing Bucky again? Especially if he'll be there with Sharon?"

"She said she can handle it. She would be happy to see that Bucky was happy. She was the one who practically begged me to encourage him to move on."

“Do you think he has?”

Sam paused, considering the question carefully.

“He has to.”

Several weeks later, Misty Knight and Sam Wilson were officially wed at the local registration office. The day was full of hugs, cacophonous laughter, friends and family, and Bucky watched with a wide beam on his face as he witnessed his friends glow. Those kinds of smiles were few and far between nowadays, but he was truly happy for once.

"They look so good together," Sharon murmured as hundreds of guests filled the hotel ballroom, the party commencing in full swing. The newlyweds were in the center of the room, Misty being twirled around wildly by a laughing Sam before his wife collapsed against his chest in fits of giggles, looking up into his eyes adoringly.

More and more people joined them on the dance floor after the conclusion of their official first dance.

"Barnes, would you like to dance?" Sharon asked suddenly with a smile, extending a hand.

Bucky chuckled, allowing her to take his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.

An hour passed, and Bucky had to truthfully say that he was enjoying himself, assisted by all the alcohol he had consumed. Sharon was draped all over him as they swayed to the music, and Bucky found himself appreciating the feel of her body against his all too much, the scent of her intoxicating. His hands felt the fabric of her silky, emerald green dress, buried his nose into Sharon's blonde hair, sighing softly as he tightened his grip on her waist.

Her perfume was strong and woodsy, like a forest. It irritated his nose ever so slightly. You had preferred a more subtle, floral perfume, one that smelt like sakura blossoms.

Sharon was more confident and seductive in the way she danced, whilst you used to always let yourself become putty in his arms, enjoying how he took the lead and managed to make you look like you knew how to dance despite your two left feet.

However, despite the differences, if Bucky closed his eyes and just tried a little harder, he think he could pretend that -

"Sorry to interrupt.”

Bucky pulled away from Sharon suddenly, and he turned to mock glare at Sam. "What do you want, Wilson?"

"Need to borrow you for a minute," Sam said, an undecipherable expression on his face. Bucky tried to see where Misty had disappeared off to, but saw no trace.

"Um, sure..." Bucky tried to read Sam’s face but gleaned nothing.

"I'll just go say hi to Natasha," Sharon said, giving Bucky’s forearm a squeeze before she disappeared.

Sam’s smile faded, and he caught Bucky’s arm in a vice grip. "I need to tell you something. Don't get mad, okay?"

"What?" Bucky scowled as Sam dragged him to the side of the room, weaving through the crowds of guests. "What good news starts with, ‘don’t get mad’? Are you gonna tell me you want to run out on Misty or something?" He joked.

Sam pulled him out through one of the open French doors which led to a pretty, outdoor stone balcony. He shut them behind him as Bucky continued to babble, a little tipsy from the champagne he'd had. "I gotta tell ya, if she asks me to kick your ass I will literally do so -”

"Bucky," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "She’s here." Meeting Bucky’s nonplussed eyes, your name rolled off Sam’s tongue in clarification.

He felt like the breath was sucked from his lungs as he stared back at Sam, who looked uncharacteristically anxious.

“What?" He asked hoarsely, instantly sobering up. “What do you mean?”

Chills were running through his body. The name he had avoided for years was suddenly causing him to feel breathless. How did you still have such an affect on him?

"She couldn't make it to the ceremony earlier today, but she just arrived."

"You - you invited her here? She’s here, now?"

"Yes," Sam replied, nodding. "I invited her.” He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest almost defiantly.

Bucky was speechless for a moment, taking a step back and scoffing. He shook his head. “Do you remember what she did to me?”

“I'm sorry, Buck..."

Bucky suddenly laughed, startling Sam. His laugh was curt, humorless. "What are you sorry for? I'm over her, Sam. It was two years ago. I haven't seen her in two years. I don't care anymore," he said quickly. Too quickly.

"Listen -"

"Look, it's okay." Bucky raised his hands in small surrender. “You have the right to invite whoever you want. I’m not mad. But I just don’t want to be held accountable for whatever happens now.”

He turned and wrenched the French doors open with such force that the handle buckled slightly. The noise inside the ballroom spilled out to replace the painful silence on the balcony.

He disappeared inside before Sam could say anything else, and he tried to hide it, but Sam could clearly see that his hands were shaking as he marched inside.

For the next twenty minutes, Bucky found sanctuary in the restrooms. He stood inside the stall, trying to stop himself from mentally collapsing.

He didn’t know what was happening. He had never felt this overwhelming panic rush over him before, immobilizing him. Anger, sadness and yearning swirling inside a melting pot of emotions that was crippling him.

She was here. The woman he hadn't seen in two years, the woman who broke his heart, the woman who betrayed him, the woman who left him in tatters.

Your infidelity had had an unforeseen impact on him. When he first found out, he was devastated. Terrified of how you became someone he didn’t recognize - or had you always been someone capable of betraying him, just good at hiding it?

You had poisoned all the happy memories they had once shared. Bucky found himself recounting all the years you were together, micro-analyzing everything, wondering if there was a hidden lie behind it all.

That was one of the things which made him angriest. You turned all the beautiful years of your relationship into a lie. None of it was real, Bucky had told himself.

You crushed him.

Of his feelings, anger prevailed, slowly simmering to the surface, like a volcano about to erupt. How dare you walk back into his life like this? He would show you, Bucky thought with determination. He was over you. He had no reason to be angry, he thought bitterly, because you were nothing to him.

Just like Bucky was nothing to you.

When he emerged from the toilets, the first thing he did was find Sharon. She looked relieved to see him, although confusion was clear on her face as she eyed Bucky.

"Where have you been? Are you feeling okay?" She commented, brow furrowed with concern.

"I'm fine," Bucky assured her. "Have you seen Sam?"

Sharon pointed, puzzlement still painted across her face, and Bucky snapped round quickly.

And there you were.

It was as if you had never left. As if the past two years filled with Bucky trying to eradicate every memory and feeling he had for you had never happened, because as soon as Bucky’s eyes found you through the crowd, everything came collapsing back down on top of him like an avalanche. Suffocating.

You were still so beautiful, strikingly so. Like a burning beacon among the crowd, Bucky’s eyes found your face as easily as anything. For a second, he allowed himself to ignore anything except you, and how the sight of you still managed to take his breath away.

You looked thinner than he remembered, your face gaunt. Bucky frowned slightly at this acute observation and found himself wondering if you had been taking care of yourself.

"Barnes? You okay?"

Bucky registered Sharon shaking his arm, but his eyes remained fastened on yourself and Sam. Neither of you had spotted Bucky yet, who was rooted to the spot like a statue. Sam’s mouth was moving, words that Bucky couldn't hear escaping his mouth, but his expression was angry. Almost as if he was scolding you for something.

"I have to...I..." Bucky stumbled over his words, voice faint. He could feel those tendrils of anger slowly seizing him again, wisps at first, until they grew more and more potent by the second. He remembered every single thing he felt when you left him, and instead of trying to hold back the emotions, Bucky just saw red.

"Let me introduce you to someone," he said suddenly, his voice strained as he took Sharon's hand.

"You said you were better," Sam said, expression torn.

"I am," you lied, trying to put on a smile. Truth was, you were exhausted, just like how you always felt. The ballroom was so crowded and loud, and you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep, which you would the moment you finished congratulating Sam and Misty. And perhaps, even though you didn't want to admit it, you wanted to catch a glimpse of Bucky, too.

"Look at you, you're -"

“Sam, please don’t,” you interrupted gently. “Just drop it, please? It’s your big day, I don’t want you to worry about anything else.”

Sam opened his mouth to talk, but stopped suddenly, his eyes flitting to look behind you.

"Hey."

You froze. You knew that voice, of course. Heard it enough times, the deep, gravelly voice that had once whispered sweet pet names, proclamations of love, and plagued your dreams ever since you left him.

You had longed to hear his voice again, hear your name being spoken lovingly. His voice was your favorite sound in the world. Except tonight, hearing it for the first time in two years, you heard nothing but ice.

"Bucky?" You turned slowly, and your breath hitched. He was just the way you remembered him. Even more handsome, if possible. Clad in a sleek black tux, tall and dark and sexy, everything you had missed and dreamed of, and...

He was holding another woman’s hand.

"Bucky," Sam repeated, voice tense. Bucky could hear the underlying warning.

"It's been a while," he said stiffly, acting as neutral as he could. As if he hadn't spent months after their terrible break up being a shell of who he used to be, barely repaired even now. Bucky felt like any other venomous words from your mouth would shatter him again, but he had to take the chance. He had to talk to you, show you that he had moved on. He didn't care about you anymore, or how you so ruthlessly left him.

"Yes," you said weakly, smiling softly. God, he still thought that you looked beautiful, clad in a periwinkle blue dress, a thick coat draped around your shoulders. You were shivering, and Bucky resisted the urge to ask you what was wrong. Now that he was closer, he could see that didn’t look well at all. You had dark circles under your eyes and your collarbones were too prominent, your gaze devoid of any livelihood.

You glanced at Bucky’s fingers interlaced with a gorgeous blonde. You had seen her on the news before, you were pretty certain. Your smile forcibly stretched wider, blinking a few times, not knowing what to do with yourself.

"This is Sharon," Sam said, clearing his throat and exchanging introductions.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Sharon said politely. She was gorgeous, you thought, watching as she sent Bucky a subtle, questioning glance.

Bucky was still staring at you, unmoving. You took the initiative first.

“Bucky, can we talk for a second?"

You could see the way he was trying to control himself by the way his lips stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He gave a curt nod. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Sharon and the other hundreds of wedding guests.

“Let’s leave these two to catch up,” Sam said lightly, trying to hide his discomfort as he led Sharon away.

"So now you want to talk?" Bucky asked as soon as they were out of earshot, his voice sharp. You cringed, almost folding into yourself at Bucky’s hard stare.

"Yes," was all you managed to whisper, eyes darting to the ground to avoid meeting his glare. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

You turned and walked towards the exit of the ballroom, turning back to look at Bucky. He followed after a second, his jaw set like stone as you led the way to the empty lobby outside, away from the noise.

"It's been a while, Buck.” You voice was sad as you turned to face him again.

"Yes," he said, fighting an internal battle. He was so torn. Seeing you again made him want to wrap you up in his arms like he would've done two years ago, when you were still together. And feeling like that made Bucky angry. What right did you have to make him feel this way? Who gave you the right to mess with Bucky’s heart again after so long?

"How have you been?" You asked eventually after a painfully awkward silence.

He scoffed at that. "How have I been?" He repeated incredulously. He doubted you really wanted to hear about all those nights he spent in his apartment, refusing to talk to his friends, being a complete social introvert (more than he usually was) because he felt like he just couldn't live anymore. Not without you.

"Great. Fantastic," he said without a shred of sincerity.

You stared at him for the longest time, your lips pressed into a thin line. You looked so regretful that it made Bucky feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," you said eventually, your voice wavering like you were struggling to breathe properly. "I'm so sorry for leaving you like that. We...we could have ended things better. You didn't deserve how I treated you."

You flinched when Bucky scoffed derisively. He dropped any remaining restraints he had previously put in place, letting all his feelings run free.

"Are you kidding me? Why? Why are you coming back here and apologizing after all this time?" He felt like he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration as he stared at you, making sure to keep his distance lest he found himself wanting to pull you closer. God, it was all so confusing. He despised you, and yet seeing you here in the flesh was everything he had ever wanted in the last few years.

He hated how you were making him feel.

"Look, it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done," he spat through gritted teeth, all the while completely unaware of how your heart clenched painfully at Bucky’s scornful eyes. “Do you have any idea how unfair this is? You fucked up big time, disappeared off the face of the earth, then come back standing in front of me now asking how I am?”

“I know. You’re right, about everything. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry.”

“No. You have no right to do this,” Bucky seethed. “You have no right to come back here and try to - what, settle your guilt? Make amends?”

You didn’t say anything, choosing to let him vent instead.

“I still remember the way you left. What you did. I will never forgive you for that. So don’t you dare stand in front of me today with all this bullshit and expect me to have something nice to say.”

"You really hate me, don't you?" You asked then, taking Bucky off guard. You lifted your head properly to stare at him, and the look in your eyes was unsettling.

"I hate you," Bucky confirmed unwaveringly, his voice hard. "I hate what you did to me and by extension, you."

You didn't respond. You bit your lower lip hard, trying desperately not to cry in front of him. Your heart hurt so much.

It was the worst feeling in the world, maybe, seeing the man you loved so dearly tell you that he hated you. It was excruciating, the clenching inside your chest as Bucky’s words rang in your head.

"I know my apologies will never be enough. I just wanted to see if you're happy now," you whispered.

"I'm happy," Bucky replied almost immediately. "I'm happy with Sharon. Does that bother you? Did you hope that I'd still be pining after you? I'm not that pathetic anymore." The barriers were broken, and the hurtful words were falling from Bucky’s mouth, two years worth of it.

“I never said you were pathetic,” you retorted, slightly indignant. “I’m glad that you’re happy.”

Bucky was breathing hard, unconvinced by your words.

“And how's the man you left me for?"

"He...it didn't work out," you shrugged, trying to keep your face as straight as possible.

"Good," Bucky said harshly. "Because you don't deserve happiness." If he wasn't so mad, he wouldn't say such irrational things. But he just wanted you to hurt. He wanted you to feel all the pain you caused.

Bucky pretended he didn't hear you gasp. He pretended that he didn't see your eyes gloss over at the sheer amount of hate in his voice.

"Okay," you said finally, your voice clearly shaking. "Okay," you repeated again, nodding your head. Bucky watched you take a step back, away from him.

“I -”

“I'm sorry, Bucky. Please take care," you interrupted, smiling sadly before you turned and walked away as quickly as possible.

That was not how you envisioned the reunion to go. All you wanted was to apologize, know that he was happy, so that you could go in peace.

But maybe that was the consequence of your decision. Maybe he was just always going to hate you for the rest of his life and remember you as someone awful.

You didn’t know that all Bucky wanted to do was run after you. Tell you to stop. He wanted to apologize and tell you how he didn’t mean a word of what he just said.

Rage and pride kept him shackled, and he watched your retreating back, feeling like a coward.

The last thing Bucky expected when he opened his apartment door a few days later was Sam’s dirty glare.

"You can be a mean son of a bitch, do you know that?”

"Hello to you too,” Bucky retorted.

“Why did you say all that stuff to her?” Sam asked, pushing his way past Bucky.

Bucky closed the door, knowing exactly who he was referring to.

"Why is this any of your business?"

"You acted like a dick!" Sam said furiously.

“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done something like that on your special day. But-”

“I want you to feel sorry to her.”

"She left me,” Bucky exclaimed. "You were there, Sam, you saw how fucked up she made me. She cheated on me! You want me to apologize to her?” His face was incredulous.

“You’re so fucking frustrating.”

“Oh, excuse me for not being the bigger person,” Bucky sneered. “But you don’t know how she made me feel, Sam, so don’t you dare try to give me a fucking lecture now.”

Sam was quiet for the longest time, looking exasperated. He stared up at the ceiling, sighing.

“Bucky, look man. She never cheated on you,” Sam said finally, an apologetic look in his eyes.

The apartment became filled with nothing but the sounds of Bucky’s heavy breathing.

“What are you talking about?” He spat, realizing now that Sam knew something he didn’t.

Sam let out a resigned sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I promised her I wouldn’t tell you. But fuck it, man, cause I think this is messed up. She’s sick, Bucky," he said solemnly. "Like, really sick."

Two years ago

"It's cancer, Sam."

You physically couldn't cry anymore. You had done enough of that the day the doctor had told you, your eyes puffy and swollen. Funnily enough, the first person you had sought out wasn’t your boyfriend, but rather his best friend.

Bucky wasn’t even in town that weekend, and you really didn’t want to tell him over the phone. In fact, you never wanted to tell him. How do you tell the man you love that you're dying?

"You can get treatment, right?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. It’s not looking good. They're doing some sort of new clinical trial in England, but even that’s a long shot. I - I’m going to try, though.”

Sam sat up straighter. “And Bucky?”

"You can't tell him," you said firmly. You had thought about it all night, and you knew you couldn't let him know. You didn't want to put him through something like this. "My father had cancer too, Sam," you said softly. "He died in so much pain, he had so much treatment but it didn't help. He was throwing up all the time, having fevers, his body was so weak, and by the end he wasn’t the same anymore. I don't want him to see me like that."

“But-”

“No buts,” you said. You had given it enough thought already. You knew that you would have to be very, very lucky to make it through this - the end was essentially inevitable. There was no way you would make Bucky bear witness to you succumbing to this illness the same way you had to watch your father.

It was the worst time of your life. You had told Bucky about it in the past, as he had never had a chance to meet your father since he passed away years before you met Bucky. Knowing what you did, you would never inflict that same experience on him.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I have to leave him.” You had been preparing yourself for what you needed to do all night. "If I go, there's a chance I might not come back, you understand that, right?"

"Don't say things like that," Sam said forcefully, clenching your hand. "Just stop. Bucky will support you all the way, you know that!"

"That’s exactly why I have to go by myself. I can't be selfish, Sam. I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. I can’t make him drop everything to make me his number one priority. Looking after me will take time and constant care. If I go to England, he will abandon everything and come. Manhattan is his home.”

Sam looked anguished and you knew that he was disagreeing with everything you had just said, but you plowed on.

"It’s not just a matter of time and effort. If he stays, he will watch me die, and I don’t want him to do that.” You began to cry, and Sam hugged you, wishing he could say something comforting.

“It’s okay," you said through the tears, even though every fiber in your body was telling you the opposite. You had been repeating these words to yourself all night, as if you would believe it if you said it enough times. "It’ll be okay."

Maybe you were being stupid, but you didn't care. You knew Bucky loved you with his body and soul, as did you. But you weren’t going to let him suffer over your illness. You wouldn't let the person you cared most about in the world see you slowly deteriorate.

You had been witness to how your father was clearly in a depressive state, and yet tried his hardest to pretend to be happy and fine around other people. You didn’t know if you had the strength or bravery to even pretend.

You began distancing yourself. Stopped trying to make conversation with Bucky, until the long, endless, random talks you used to share diminished into curt sentences. You stopped waiting for Bucky to come home, simply pretending that you didn't care. You became more secretive, furtively hiding your calls with your doctor and your mother.

There was no other man. You loved him and only him, and had been nothing but faithful. You didn't know what hurt more: having to lie to Bucky or the fact that he so easily believed you would betray him like that.

In the end, you had really regretted fabricating a story of infidelity. You should have just gone your separate ways without making him think that you had been unfaithful. But at that time, you wanted to find a quick solution that would make Bucky voluntarily detach himself from you. It seemed like a wise decision, but you really, really wish you hadn’t let him believe that you didn’t love him. It was truly the worst feeling in the world.

It was all over in a few weeks. You packed your things and left, trying not to cry with every heavy step you took towards the door of your apartment. You knew you were making the best decision for them both, surely.

Time would heal Bucky, and he would be happy again one day.

It just couldn’t be with you.

Present day

"She just didn’t want to feel like a burden to you, man," Sam said, shaking his head. "Why did you have to say all those things to her at the wedding?"

Bucky could register nothing else after Sam finished explaining everything. He was in disbelief, though he knew that there was no way Sam would fabricate a story like that.

Now, he could only think of the way he had shouted at you. The way he told you how much he hated you. The way you had left.

"Where is she?" Bucky whispered.

"She’s leaving today," Sam said tersely. "She’s going back to England. She was real sick for a long time, and she recovered a few months ago, but the cancer came back.”

He slipped a hotel business card into Bucky’s hand. “This is the address she’s staying at," Sam said.

He grasped it like a lifeline, eyes unable to see Sam standing in front of him. His vision was completely filled with images of you.

"Go," Sam said forcefully. "Go and find her.”

The tears wouldn't stop falling.

You didn't know words could hurt so much. Sure, you had expected Bucky to hate you, but you weren’t prepared for the way every single word seemed to embed themselves into your skin like splinters into your heart.

They were once so happy. They were so perfect.

You hated yourself. Hated yourself for getting ill, for ruining what you had. The logic was irrational, but the self-hatred had become second nature.

You had spent the last few days holed up in your hotel. You had planned to use the time to see a few friends before returning to England, but you no longer had the heart.

You left your room that morning only because Wanda was furious that she missed you at the wedding, and you agreed to have coffee with her. She almost cried at the sight of you, but you put on a brave face, refusing to talk about Bucky. You begged her if you could just talk about happy topics and she eventually obliged, smiling sadly when you hugged each other goodbye.

“I’ll see you again, dear,” Wanda had said, and you hoped to God she was right.

As soon as you got inside your hotel room, you felt a switch click internally.

Everything hurt. You were tired, unhappy and you really didn’t know if you would ever make it out of this emotional blackhole. You felt so weak, like you would keel over at any given moment.

Cancer really was a bitch.

You kicked off your shoes and entered the bathroom. You lay down in the bathtub, fully clothed, turning the cold water on until you were almost completely submerged, wanting to numb all the pain inside your body and mind.

You eyes were red and swollen, and you couldn't remember crying so much since that day the doctor diagnosed you. Why was life so unfair? You wanted your old life back again. The life where Bucky didn't detest you, the one where he was happily and wonderfully in love with you.

You lay back, letting the water cover you completely. You closed your eyes, your hair gently swirling around your face. You opened your mouth and screamed, bubbles erupting to the surface.

Eventually you emerged, gasping and coughing, your tears hot in contrast to your frozen face. Your body wracked with sobs, shaking uncontrollably.

You sank back down into the water, your mouth opening once more to scream in uncontrollable rage. It was cathartic, your fists clenched into balls as you willed the feelings inside you to just - disappear.

When you opened your eyes beneath the water, you nearly gasped at the sight of a blurry, warped figure above you. You didn't have time to do anything when arms were suddenly encasing themselves around you, lifting you to the surface.

You spluttered and coughed, your ears assaulted by the voice that once whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"- the fuck are you doing? Are you okay?"

Bucky.

You blinked past the water in your eyes, bewildered at the sight of him, kneeling beside the bathtub with his hands gripping your shoulders. His bright blue eyes were scared, wide open with concern.

You were startled at his sudden appearance, unable to say anything as he scooped you out, lifting you with ease. You were clearly in shock and scared.

You collapsed against him as he sat down on the bathroom floor with you in his arms.

"What were you doing?” Bucky was appalled as he pulled you close to him, watching how you continued to weep, blinking blearily at him. Your body was ice cold, every inch of you soaked.

He whipped a towel down from the railing beside you, wrapping it around your body as you shivered uncontrollably.

"Bu - Bucky?" You asked, as if you couldn't fathom why he was here. You were almost convinced you were hallucinating.

"Fuck, we need to get you out of these clothes," Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he tried not to cry. He had so much to say to you. He wanted you to know how sorry he was, how he didn't mean anything he said, but now wasn’t the time. He had to be strong for you.

You felt like a baby as Bucky removed your soaking wet garments until you were naked, then immediately swaddled you with more towels. He picked you up completely off the floor and took you out of the bathroom.

He chose to place you down on the edge of the bed, positioning himself to kneel down in front of you.

"Bucky," you whispered, voice thick, trying to pull away from him. “I think you should just leave me alone."

He stiffened. It scared him to hear you talk like this, to see you look at Bucky with such defeat in your eyes.

“No,” he said resolutely. “I'm here now, okay? I'm here, I'm not leaving, and I need you to be with me. I need you here, talking to me.”

"I can't. I can't do this anymore. Just go, please."

Bucky looked at you then. Really looked at you. The woman he loved and misunderstood for so long was now a trembling wreck in front of him, skin paper thin and trembling like a leaf. You looked so vulnerable and sad, and it made his heart twist.

Bucky suddenly held you tight against his chest, tucking his nose against the crook of your neck, and you didn't resist.

"Do you have any idea how much I hate myself? I hate myself for letting you go through this alone. I hate myself for telling you all those lies that night. I love you, I love you, I love you," Bucky said, wishing that you would see it.

“Don’t.”

“I wish you had told me. I would have helped you. You should have told me. I can’t believe you -”

You realized now that Sam must've told him the truth, and you sighed softly.

"I'm not good for you, Bucky," you whispered. "I will only ever hurt you, put you through more pain."

"I know everything now," Bucky said firmly. "No matter what happens, I will gladly endure it as long as it means we're no longer apart."

“Don’t be so stupid,” you said, anger tearing through your voice, though the tears were still falling. “I’m broken, Buck. I can’t give you a future. Please just find someone else - stay with Sharon.”

“Sharon?” If you hadn’t mentioned her name, Bucky would never have even thought about her. “No - we’re not serious, doll. She was never going to be the one.”

“No,” you insisted. “If not her, then fine, find someone else. Just not me.”

“Why aren’t you listening?” Bucky asked furiously. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please don’t do this. I need you." He was desperate to make you see, to make you understand. It was you or nothing. "You don’t know how awful the past few years have been. I don’t want to be apart from you, please.” He was prepared to grovel at your feet and beg.

He hated himself for how easily he gave up two years ago. This time, he was not letting you leave him.

His beautiful blue eyes pleaded with you, and you felt your barricades crumble. Your arms finally moved to wrap around him, and he felt a wave of relief as he encircled you in his arms. You had missed this, the feeling of Bucky holding you so tenderly.

You didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but you wanted to give in so badly and just let yourself be selfish and enjoy what time you could have together. And now that Bucky had you back by his side, he was definitely not going to let you go.

Even if they were in pieces, at least they were together. And Bucky was positive that they could put those pieces back into a whole, as long as you gave it a chance.

"You're so stupid," you said through your tears.

"I don't think so," Bucky said, managing the smallest smile. "Just stupidly in love with you."

You wanted to stay like this forever, entangled in each others arms. He pulled back slowly to study your face, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your lips. He kissed you again, deeper this time, breathing you in.

“You owe me two years of kisses,” he mumbled.

You laughed softly, but it soon died. First, you had a lot of talking to do. You used the following hour to tell him the details about your illness, why you had left, how sorry you were for treating Bucky the way you did when you broke up with him.

"You're so dumb," Bucky had said, sounding furious for a moment. "You had no right to decide something like that for me. You know I would support you.”

"I know, Buck," you had interrupted. "That's exactly why I had to leave. I didn't want you to see me die, okay?"

You had looked like you were about to cry again, so Bucky stopped scolding you immediately. He would never make you cry again, he swore.

"You're here now," he said, kissing your temple. "We're together now. Everything feels...right again."

You swallowed, biting your lip. "I told you, my cancer is back and -"

"You'll get better again," he said, refusing to look at you. You knew that tears were in his eyes. "You'll get better, okay?" His voice wavered slightly.

"It's worse this time, Bucky," you said. "Look at me. I'm practically withering away."

"You'll get better," he said, clenching his teeth.

You didn't say anything, just nestled against Bucky’s chest, relishing the way he wrapped his arms securely around your frame as if you would disappear at any moment.

Maybe he was right. Maybe by some miracle, with Bucky by your side, you would be able to give him all the time in the world.

"I'll try to stick around," you whispered.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky angst #sebastian stan #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x you #bucky

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pynkfairyheart · 3 days

Text

pairings: older!reiner x reader

warnings: smut 18+, age gap (old enough to be readers dad)

Congratulations

Reiner didn't typically consider himself the most neighborly. Sure he'd wave when in passing, or occasionally comment on his neighbors’ yard, but that was it.

It wasn't like him to walk across his lawn to offer help or introduce himself.

That was until he saw you, pout resting on your pretty lips as you struggled to open your door with the large box in your hands.

Maybe it was that he hit multiple aces while golfing or maybe it was your ass peeking from your shorts. Whatever it was it prompted him to approach you, offering to help you inside.

Any other time you'd have declined, aware of the horror stories of seemingly kind men but something told you to trust him. Maybe it was the prominent muscles along his six foot frame, or that he was old enough to be your dad. Whatever it was you accepted.

He helped you bring all of your boxes and furniture in. Happily rearranging your room for the third time and even helping you fix the wobbly leg of your coffee table before wishing you a good night and returning to his house.

That night he jerked off to the memories of you bent over and the small sounds you made when lifting a heavy box.

You talked with him once after that. When you finally settled into the house that was too large for one girl, you went knocking on his door to bring him thank you brownies, praying he didn't notice your eyes lingering on the prominent v-line of his bare torso before you finally handed him the dish.

Of course, there were the occasional waves whenever you two happened to pass by each other but your schedules rarely mixed. That was until he decided to take a day off.

While in the middle of mowing his lawn, he saw you leave your house, gown in hand, and dripped in colorful cords and stoles, your decorated graduation cap sparkling in the sun as you rushed to your car.

He thought about you the entire time you were gone, busying himself with housework, and keeping a close ear by the door. When he caught the sound of your car pulling in your driveway he immediately jogged his way over to you, stopping in the same place he first introduced himself.

“Hi, I just wanted to come over and congratulate you. I saw you this morning but you seemed to be in a rush” He smirked, hazel eyes skimming your bare legs that appeared elongated in the heels you wore.

“Aww thank you, I was, but I'd have loved to talk to you anyway” A nervous giggle escaped you. Despite the low interaction, you couldn't help but grow a small crush on your older neighbor. The sight of him in his suit or tight golf shorts being the star in all of your late night fantasies.

“Would you like to come over to have dinner? Today, or sometime this week? I'm sure you have some plans later but if not, I'd love to have you over.” He rubbed his beard nervously as he awaited your reply.

You did. But you were convinced your friends and family would understand that you just had to take up the opportunity to get to know your hot neighbor.

At least that's what you told yourself when you accepted his invitation.

And let him teach you how to cook a steak.

And maybe when you allowed him to pull you down onto his lap as you watched the sunset.

And definitely when he carried you up his stairs before fucking you senseless.

You lost count of how many orgasms you've had. The moment he laid you on his bed, his lips were wrapped around your clit, sucking the life out of you numerous times, and fingering your pink walls till tears stained your cheeks and you shook from overstimulation.

You thought you'd be safe once he bullied his fat cock into your aching walls. Surely a man of his age didn't have the best stamina, right? Wrong.

He quite literally laughed in your face at your disbelief when he fucked his first load back into your sopping pussy.

You'd never been so full, his tip ramming against your cervix whenever he fully pounded into you and the outline of his dick as he pressed down on your tummy having you drool.

“Rei, too much” You cried. Ass in the air and face buried into the mattress as he pounded into you from behind, hands tied back with your lacey panties. Whines barely audible over the slapping skin.

“Why are you complaining, bunny? Isn't this what you wanted? For daddy to ruin this pretty pussy” He whispered in your ear. The new angle reaching spots you never knew existed.

“Ouuu, yes, please, daddy” You whined, turning to give your signature pout. Oh, how you looked so pretty to him. Face stained with tears and your pouty, plumped, glossy lips looking so soft. He found it cute how you tried to convince him to let you cum.

“No” He pecked your lips before pulling out fully, only to ram his cock back in. A harsh slap landed on your ass cheek at the same time, red bruise forming on the brown skin from his previous spanks.

“Oh my gaaawd please, I can't hold it in anymore” You resisted against the restraints, desperate to slow his movements

“Yes, you can, princess.” He taunts, as he continued his relentless pounding.

You wanted to believe him. You really did as you tried to focus on anything other than the pleasure he was providing you. You tried and tried but nothing stopped the knot from snapping. A string of curses flowing from your pretty lips as your body found the strength to push out the clear stream of squirt, your walls clamping around his cock.

He hissed, unable to resist the pressure applied as his sticky cum decorated the insides of your walls, pounding into you before pulling out to watch it drip onto his sheets.

Confusion settled into your brain as he untied your hands and flipped you over, whispering praises into your ear as he blessed your skin with soft sweet kisses.

“Reiner, I'm sorry I really tried” You started

“I know, baby. I forgive you, it's okay. You did perfect” He engulfed you in a passionate kiss, tongues exploring the path down each others throats.

You were almost convinced he did, until he reached into his nightstand, pulling out a blindfold and a vibrator from the drawer.

“I thought you said you forgive me” Pout once again resting on your lips as he opened your legs, cool air stimulating your already throbbing clit

“I do. But even the prettiest of girls don't get out of punishment”

wheres my dilf neighbor??? also congratulations to anyone who graduated. nothing but love to my fellow class of 24 graduates. even if you didn't get to graduate or you're currently still in school I'm still proud of you nd wish you nothing but success in life. mwah <3

#aot x black reader #anime x black!reader #aot x reader #black reader #attack on titan #chubby reader #reiner braun #reiner x reader #aot reiner #reiner smut #reiner x black reader #reiner braun x black reader #aot smut #aot fic

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erodasfishtacos · 3 days

Text

Give You Some Sugar

prompt: when yn meets h at a club and quite a few unexpected things happen in a short amount of time

word count: 9k

author’s note: hiiii. there are currently six more parts of this available on my patreon 😗

you can subscribe for $3 USD a month 💓

Y/N finally had the night off.

No charity events, dreadful business dinners, or exclusive invite-only clubs where she had to pretend to be something she wasn’t.

The smile on her face forced enough that her jaw and cheeks ached by the end of the night by how much of a farce she’s putting on.

A twinkling giggle accompanies every stupid joke that is told.

It’s mind-numbing to pretend that she is an airhead who doesn’t understand any aspect of what these businessmen discuss during their dinner.

Though she does, she wasn’t stupid and she knew that the offshore accounts to funnel tax money and avoid payouts were illegals - especially considering the fact that they were not talking about chump change but millions and sometimes billions of dollars.

As they spoke of this right in front of her, in an exclusive back room of a five-star restaurant most of the time without a care because they thought that she just simply could not understand their discussions.

YN had to drop out during her last year of college.

Her financial aide ran short and she didn’t have anything in her bank account to cover the difference.

It’s mostly why she’s in the work she does now, trying to save up to get back in to finish her last year but it’s been pushed off for a few years now.

She thought that she would immediately get out of this line of work the second she got that number she needed in her bank account, it did not work out that way.

No job she could get right now would pay even comparably to what she gets now for simple dinners and events with rich men.

Quitting this job would send her right back into struggling to pay rent or her car note, she grew up living that way.

She didn’t want that for herself ever again which is why she has been saving nearly every penny that comes her way to get a hefty enough savings that she won’t have to worry - at least for a while.

She could do with a pair of strong, smooth hands around her waist - guiding her hips into deep and playful grinds as music pounds much too loudly around them, only lost in each other.

Not the swollen, wrinkly ones that she had to lightly hold like she was enjoying them or the too tight grip on her hips when they had to slow-dance at galas with classical music coming from a live orchestra.

She hasn’t had any type of dating life since all this had started.

Not so surprisingly, most men didn’t enjoy sharing their girlfriends nearly every night.

And the term sugar baby scared every potential suitor away which had in all honesty made YN give up very soon after - realizing no matter what year it is, there’s definitely a stigma around what she does.

Y/N needed to feel young again.

Hell - she was twenty-five but the crowd she was around most of the time was sixty-five and above.

She had nothing in common with these men that she spent her time with, very rarely did they have any similar interests or something that they could talk about for more than a few minutes without the conversation withering.

For the most part - she enjoyed being a sugar baby.

It was a lot of cash upfront or in her banking app, gifts, free dinners, and all-expenses paid vacations.

She charged men for her time and appearance.

Laid out flat to them during their initial meeting - she would not have sex with them.

It was non-negotiable, no matter how much money they offered her, she would turn it down and remind them that if they tried it again, she had no problem terminating their contractual agreement that they’re currently not following.

There was no judgment for anyone who did sleep with their clients.

YN found that she made more than enough without that aspect that it wasn’t necessary and it just wasn’t for her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it for any amount of money.

YN finally had a night off where she could go to the club without any obligations, just with her friends.

No man to hang onto, to follow around like a puppy, or to always have a fresh drink in hand for them.

Sophie was behind her, one hand on her waist and a drink in her other as they swayed together - always scoping out the people around them and having enough fun with each other to let the night fly by.

Until was a beefy, meathead starts checking Sophie out from a barstool.

His eyes were watching her friend with a focused smirk on the corner of his lips, and his foot was tapping against the floor in rhythm to the music that was pumping through the club.

“You have a suitor!” YN shouts over the music, subtly nodding toward the man who her friend hadn’t noticed yet.

He was Sophie’s type to the tee with a flannel button-up, some type of cowboy boot, and beard.

Her friend makes eye contact with the man finally, after he’d been waiting for her to finally notice and now he takes it as permission to get up from the bar stool to stride over to her and ask her for a dance.

YN leaves them to it, not wanting to block a chance of Sophie having some luck finding someone to go home with tonight after she’d been complaining about a dry spell.

Not wanting to lose sight of her, YN goes back to the bar and slips into the seat that was just occupied by the man who was currently pulling her friend into his chest to dance.

When asked, she ordered a jack and coke, she wasn’t much of a drinker which meant that she’d most likely sip on that for the rest of the time that she was here, and she could make sure Sophie was safe which would be hard to do if she was drunk.

Someone slides up next to her, bumping her shoulder harshly enough that it makes her gasp, and the man doesn’t even apologize before he’s grabbing the bartender’s attention with an obnoxious, rude snap of his fingers, “Make that two.”

He didn’t sound drunk or belligerent, that just made it even more odd that he didn’t apologize for bumping into her but maybe he just assumed that it’s normal for that to happen at such a tightly cramped bar.

After a moment, she finally looks out of the corner of her eye.

However, it’s not enough because she's surprised by what she sees and she turns her head to get a full view of what was standing right beside her.

He was broad, that was the first thing that she noticed, was how wide his shoulders were as he squeezed between YN and the patron on the other side of him.

The broadness tapered off into narrow hips and lean thighs but his body was athletic, strong, lithe, and everything that YN had been dreaming of when she’s holding hands with men who were the opposite of what she was looking at right now.

He had stunning, cropped brown curls, a bit of scruff on his face like he hasn’t shaven in a few days, and golden skin from being in the sun - not a tan he could have acquired in London, that’s for sure.

The man was dressed in black silky button-up that was open enough to display the definition of his chest, a gold cross hanging between his pecs.

The shirt what sheer enough that his abdominal muscles were being shown-off until the band of his black trousers covered them right above his belly button but enough to see that trail of sparse hair leading to it.

Her chest tighten when he turns his head to meet her staring gaze, he’s caught her checking him out, and she knows based on the way his lips turn up, and deep dimples indent his cheeks.

“Mind a drink on me, darling?” He tilts his head and smiles wolfishly, purposefully flashing a black Amex between two fingers before tossing it carelessly the shiny oak bar like it was worthless.

Show off.

It didn’t do much to impress her, not when she was constantly surrounded by some of the wealthiest men in the world, a single credit card wasn’t something to have her drooling over him.

“Knock yourself out,” She shrugs with a raised eyebrow and a somewhat bored tone, letting him know through her facial expressions that she wasn’t nearly as impressed as he would like her to be, as most girls probably are.

“I’m Harry,” he puts out his hand, rings twinkling in the dim light and a cross inked on the crook of his hand.

It was the type of hand that she’d been fantasizing about on her body when she dances with her clients.

They were big, strong, and had veins protruding against the smooth skin that for some reason made her start to feel hot because she wanted those hands on her right now.

“YN,” She replies, trying to keep herself in check.

The firmness of his grip sends a tingle down her spine, his long fingers wrapping around hers, squeezing firmly enough to prove a point, and she tugs back her hand when she realizes she has been holding his hand for a tad too long.

She has been on too many dates in the last three months to count but hasn’t gotten laid in a year, if not longer.

And until now, she hadn’t felt that desperate to change that, and didn't bitch about dry spells like Sophie did.

When Harry laughs at her for holding his hand for too long, she’s a fucking goner, and she doesn’t know what’s making him feel so magnetic.

Her body realized it as she watched his hand grip the glass, suck a thumb into his mouth when a splash of liquor spills over - pink tongue peeking out of his puffy, pink lips.

Their conversation goes smoothly and he definitely wins points with YN when he looks out for Sophie when she trots over to the bar to tell her that she’s going to leave with that lumberjack-looking fellow named Josh.

Harry had judgmentally looked Josh up and down with an unimpressed but indifferent expression before saying, “Send a picture of your driver’s license to YN before you leave so she knows exactly who you are and where you live if there’s an issue.”

Josh doesn’t seem bothered, actually digs his driver’s license out of his wallet, and hands it over to YN, who does snap a picture of it - surprised she had never thought of doing that before now but would definitely from here on out.

Sophie is a bit confused, clearly wondering if YN and Harry knew each other based on just how assertive he was being, acting like he had any right to make demands of a man of a girl he didn’t know.

“You good?” Sophie whispers in her each as she hugs her before leaving.

“A hundred percent. I’ll text you later. You do the same?” YN murmurs back as she squeezes her friend tight - hoping Josh works out for her tonight but he seemed like an alright dude.

They part after that, Sophie taking Josh’s hand and nearly dragging him towards the door with eagerness - YN watches until they’re out of sight and turns back to the man next to her.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks after the final sip of his mixed drink.

It was just the way that he was looking at her, with such intensity and interest, it made her feel like there was a hot spotlight right on her in front of a crowd, and she wanted to look away but she couldn’t break their eye contact.

“Customer service for an office supply chain, you?” YN lies smoothly, she’s said it enough times that there’s not a hint of uncertainty to give her away.

It was her go to job - she wasn’t going to tell a random person she was a sugar baby and the job description she gave is boring enough for them not to ask questions or really care to know more.

“Just a boring job in IT,” Harry shrugs, not divulging more information than that as he once again, rudely snaps his fingers at the bartender for another round before starting to ask, “What do you-“

“Are you going to take me home or no?” YN interrupts bluntly, she was never typically this forward - really she’s never been this upfront before.

However, the back and forth of meaningless conversation was driving her to the point of insanity because all she wanted right now was his hands on her and she doesn’t know if she’d ever been as aroused as this from just small talk.

No, with certainty she’d never felt this much sexual attraction to someone else in her life.

Harry’s eyes narrow at her like a predator locked on prey.

The smile that had almost been permanently etched on his lips for the last hour was gone and his jaw was flexing under the thin skin there that she wanted to sink her teeth into.

As soon as the new glass of jack and coke was in front of him, he picks it up, and takes two long gulps before the cup is empty and he’s bringing it back down against the bar.

YN can’t help it when she leans forward to brush a droplet from the corner of his mouth.

Her heart is absolutely pounding when his hand comes up to capture her wrist, eyes intent of her face as he moves her hand until her thumb with the alcohol on it brushes against his lips.

He brings it into his mouth, to suck the liquid off of the digit before nipping it, pulling it back out to rub against his bottom lip for a minute.

YN knew her lips were parted in surprise, arousal, and disbelief at how utterly attractive the man in front of her was with such a simple but filthy move - she craved more of it.

“Do you want me to take you home, pup?” Harry asks with that same head tilt from early, like he doesn’t know the answer, and he brushes his nose against the inside of her wrist.

“I don’t think I was unclear. Don’t make me repeat myself,” YN’s voice is tight and thick but she isn’t going to give him control from the start - already knowing Harry will be up for a challenge by the way he holds himself - cock sure.

That has him letting out a low, dangerous chuckle that almost sounds like a growl at the taunts, “Oh, that’s how you want it, sweetheart?”

YN was feeling brave and nearly insane with a warm arousal in her stomach.

She reaches out and runs a purposeful hand across his lap.

A confident smile gracing her face when she palms at him, his cock twitching and plumping up embarrassingly easy for her which makes her let out her own mean chuckle at what he can’t hide or control of his body.

His strong, massive hand is coming to stop her.

Her hand twinges in light pain at his rings digging into her skin as he wraps his fingers around her wrist again, this time pulling until she’s nearly stumbling off her stool but able to right herself at the last moment.

She goes forward, a bit clumsily and meets his hard chest, looking up at him. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” He warns, bringing her wrist back up to kiss at where his rings left light indents.

“Are you all talk? Or are you going to -“ Because she can’t help herself, she wants to get him as riled up as possible so that he’ll give her all he’s got because she hasn't had excitement like this in well - ever.

YN’s cut with a rough pinch to her thigh and his mouth at her ear, low and firm, “Get your shit and let’s go, now.”

She moves to put on her jacket, Harry apparently finding that she isn’t doing it quickly enough because he knocks her hands away and puts it on her himself before being led out of the club without a second glance back.

As soon as they’re in the taxi, YN is so hazy with want that she doesn’t think twice before straddling his lap and grinding down.

He’s firm, warm, and smells like he just walked out of a cologne advert for Tom Ford.

Her lips finally make it to where they’ve wanted to be all night, pressing wet kisses along his jawline, and huffing in frustration when his hands grip her hips, stilling her movements and ending any friction that she was getting.

“You need to be a good girl and wait. I’m not fucking you in the back of a cab,” Harry hisses, grips her jaw like he can do whatever he wants to her because he can right now, pulling her back with a stern look.

“Don’t need to fuck in here, I just want-“ YN begins, trying not to flush at how needy she sounds and how much her demeanor has changed from sitting at the bar a few minutes ago.

He literally had her in the palm of his hand and he fucking knew it.

“I’m going to stop you there, pup,” Harry cuts her off, still holding her chin, and his eyes are twinkling with something playful but serious, “It’s not about what you want, is it? Are you a selfish thing, hm?”

“No,” YN gasps when he brings his hand down, finding her bud over the thin material of her underwear but under her skirt, just tapping at it with no real pressure, “I’m not, I swear. I just want to-“

A sharp pinch replaces the intermittent taps, her legs twitching as an even mixture of pain and pleasure shoot up her spine, “You’re not a very good listener either, are you?”

Fucking hell.

YN can now say without a shadow of a doubt that she’s never been more turned on than this in her life.

The submission that was melting through her body was new to her.

She’d never whined, pleaded, used such a voice before but it felt natural to meet his dominance.

Her mind was spinning and she wanted him to take care of her, tell her what to do, and instead of being scared because she’d never wanted anything like this before, it felt like she was falling but it felt freeing.

“Please,” YN says because she forgets the question that he asked already, anticipating the switch between taps and pinches that keep her body taut on top of him.

Harry loosens his hold on her chin, surprisingly gentle as he tilts it down to get a better look at her, and his face softens for the first time all night, “Jesus Christ, look at you. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, you know that? Look how gone you are already. S’fucking adorable.”

She wants him to kiss her, so bad but he’s keeping his lips right out of her reach.

YN obviously didn’t know Harry before tonight but the amount of chemistry between them felt like they’ve done this together a million times.

There was no embarrassment on YN’s end over how much she was just folding for him and there was no hesitance in Harry taking control of everything.

“You’re being mean,” YN accuses as he pushes her underwear to the side, only to trace his fingertips along the outside of her folds, petting at the wetness before smearing it over her lips and leaning forward to lick it off but not quite kissing her.

“You’re cute,” Harry laughs as he presses his thumb between her folds, parting them, and finally giving a few harsh rubs to where she needed the friction the most, “You haven’t seen anything yet, darling. Now relax until we get to mine.”

The line of townhouses where Harry lives, well YN is familiar with because quite a few of her clients live in them.

They were in the heart of London, old brick structures that had five or six floors, she couldn’t remember, and they cost more than what most people could even dream about making.

It’s no surprise how beautiful the interior is, if not a little too basic and boring like he’d just hired a designer to make it look sophisticated and modern without adding even a single touch of himself to the home.

Harry walks her into the house, body pressed up right behind her, and he runs his lips against the nape of her neck after pushing her hair to the side, “Do you need anything first? Drink, food, bathroom?”

YN shakes her head, allowing Harry to start removing her coat, “No.”

“Do you know your colors?” Harry murmurs, his voice softer and serious, like he wasn’t trying to be sexy right now but wanted a real answer.

For a moment, YN blanks because of course she knows her colors, she’s a grown woman but then wants to smack herself when she realizes what he’s actually asking about.

She did know.

She tried a few things with a previous boyfriend where they discussed safe words but never needed to actually use anything except ‘green’ because it never got far enough to need any others.

“Yes, red means stop, yellow means check-in, green means good to go,” YN recites as he turns her around, walking her back into a wall, and just surrounds her with every part of him.

“Smart girl,” Harry agrees, rewarding her with a squeeze to her hip, “Not that I plan for us to do anything crazy tonight. We just met. I just want you to be able to express where you’re at and know we can stop at any time, okay? Is this something you’re comfortable with doing? If it’s not, we can totally have-“

“Just shut up and do something,” YN complains, already feeling a bit spoiled as she appreciates his reminders but god, she wants this so much - can he not see that?

A wicked smile lights up on his face, her hand moving from her hip all the way up her side until it’s resting on the side of her throat, running his thumb over the hollow of her collarbones.

She leans in for a kiss but frowns when he stops her.

“Beg,” he demands, voice impossibly deeper than before.

YN lets a surprised chuckle slip, eyes wide in disbelief, “You want me to beg to kiss you?”

She didn’t want to admit how fucking hot she actual found that.

“You’re going to do a lot of it tonight, pet,” Harry tells her, unwavering in what he’s asking and not breaking eye contact, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you beg pretty f’me.”

“Please,” She replies, swallowing hard, watching him carefully.

“Please what?” Harry replies with a displeased wilt of his lips, it’s odd how it makes her heart drop like she’s doing something wrong and she instantly wants to make it right.

“Kiss me,” YN breathes, eyes darting between his eyes and mouth, she was breathing heavily like she’d just run a marathon - sweat already beading at her temples.

“Good girl,” he rewards automatically, nodding his head, and pressing their hips tightly together when he takes another step forward.

YN doesn’t know why because never in the past has praise made her stomach flip but when he told her she was good, it felt like he’d just given her the highest compliment of all time.

He dips down and connects their mouths, it’s surprisingly sweet for a moment as he gently goads her into opening up so that he can take control, and it only makes sense that he’s skilled.

Harry’s hands are moving once again, to her shirt, and YN lifts her arms up to give him permission which he takes, pulling back to yank it roughly over her head like he couldn’t get it off her fast enough.

“May I?” He asks as his fingertips dance along the lace of her bra.

His voice hasn’t changed from the stable and calm which was the exact opposite to the chaotic frenzy that had overtaken YN’s brain.

“Yes,” YN agrees, reaching behind herself to begin to unclasp her bra which earns a pinch to her hip.

“I didn’t ask you to take it off, did I?” He rumbles as YN’s hands fall back at her sides, allowing him to reach around her to without any struggle unclasp the latch of her bra and he drags it down her arms, tossing it to the floor.

YN feels embarrassed for a moment because she was standing in front of the most attractive man she’s ever seen in her life, let alone somehow managed to get to take her home, and he’s probably seen his fair share of beautiful people.

It’s instinct to move to cover herself.

“What’s that for?” Harry frowns as he notices her arm moving up, his voice is softer than it’s been all night, gentle and cautious, “What’s your color?”

“Green,” YN responds immediately, “I just…I’m being stupid.”

And her heart is sinking because she feels like she’s killing the entire mood with her insecurity that she’s never had quite like this before but standing in front of him was….a lot.

“You’re not being stupid, it’s okay, pup,” Harry soothes, his hands coming to rub at her forearm before he’s gently tugging them away, his eyes glued to her chest as it’s revealed once again.

“This is what you wanted to hide from me and you call me mean?” Harry huffs as he cups them, fitting perfectly into his hands as his thumbs come to brush where her nipples are already pebbled from the chill in the room, “You have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, darling. God, I could stare at you forever and never get bored.”

YN has to remind herself that it’s all talk, this is what people do at random hookups, say things that they will forget in the morning because they were meaningless - Harry wasn’t doing anything more than that.

“I need more,” YN whimpers because the way he was teasing at her nipples with light swipes of his thumbs, not giving anything more than that, she felt like she was going to go insane when he leaned down to swipe his tongue around both of them to get them harder before pulling back, she tacks on, “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely. I guess I could give you a little more,” He hums thoughtfully, moving to roll them between his forefinger and thumb, giving enough of a pinch that it makes her gasp.

YN realizes that’s all he’s going to give her, a little bit more, but still not enough.

Now it’s clicking, she’s going to have to ask, scratch that, beg for anything she wants.

Even though he’s the one being dominant, she actually has all the control.

She’s not used to talking so much during hookups, let alone having to ask for what she wants but if that’s what she had to do to get more from him - well that’s what she’s going to do.

“Harry, I-“ YN’s mind blanks for a moment when he gives a particularly good twist as he sucks a mark into the underside of her jaw, “I need more, I’m so wet.”

It was the truth, she needed friction, touch, something.

“You’re wet? Why didn’t you say so, pet?” Harry teases, acting like he’s surprised by her words, “Gonna let me take this off you? Let me see what else you’re hiding from me?”

“Yes, take it off,” YN agrees breathlessly, hand coming to balance of his shoulder when he unzips her skirt, kicking it off her ankles when it falls to the floor, and catches Harry staring at her once again.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. How did I manage to get you to come home with me, baby?” Harry asks but it doesn’t sound teasing or like a line as he snaps the elastic of her thong against her skin.

YN knows she’s not in charge but she isn’t thinking before she’s stepping forward and leaning up to kiss him, her hand cupping his jaw because even just for a moment, she wants his mouth again.

He’s definitely surprised by the action but not unpleased, kissing her back and taking the lead again by moving her how he wants her, and he allows it for a long moment before pulling back, a soft smirk on his lips.

“Just wanted a kiss,” YN tells him, hand still on his face.

“Wanted a kiss, hm? You’re the sweetest thing, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles as he pulls her back in for another, brushing their lips together, biting at her bottom lip, and then soothing it with his tongue, “You’re so good, you know that?”

It seems like the sharpness from earlier, the more demanding dominance has faded into something much sweeter which YN enjoys just as much as she enjoyed how their encounter started, this was just as good.

Harry’s hand moves down the center of her sternum, drifting left to tweak her nipple once more before starting to drag down her belly which has her sucking in when goosebumps break out on her skin.

“Love how you react to me,” Harry murmurs, kissing along her jaw as he hooks the band of her underwear under his thumb, “Know you’ll be so pretty for me when I’m touching you, yeah?”

“Then touch me,” YN bites out, her arousal was swirling at a vicious quell in the pit of her stomach and she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t get relief soon, she wasn’t used to being teased like this, she was on fire.

Harry laughs meanly, hand quick as it moves to part her folds and press firm circles on her clit, “Oh darling, just because I’m being nice doesn’t mean that I’m not in charge. You’re not tough, not with that way you’re dripping on my palm.”

The thing is, Harry isn’t all talk because he finds her spot in less than five seconds when he slips down to push two fingers into her and crook them towards himself, his palm coming to lie flat against her clit to give her friction.

“Ride ‘em for me,” Harry tells her as he still them inside of her, eyes flickering between her face and center like he’s spoiled for choice.

YN doesn’t feel any of that earlier embarrassment, she feels empowered now as she bears down before pulling back up, short ruts of her hips because they’re still standing and she can only do so much.

She moans loudly when he presses the heel of his palm more directly against her which leaves her torn between grinding forward or moving up and down on his fingers because both feel so good.

“Listen to me,” Harry reminds her sternly, it doesn’t need any further explanation because he’d already told her what he wanted and the self-indulgent figure eights of her hips weren’t conducive to that.

YN struggles not to grind forward to give her clit the friction that it’s craving but it feels amazing every time he strokes against her spot too.

She’s definitely never been with someone who’s been able to make her feel like this.

“Oh, look at that pout,” Harry coos, his free hand coming up to pull at her jutted out bottom lip and drag it down, “You spoiled little thing, s’embarassing how much I’m willing to let slide right now.”

The last sentence was quieter, almost like he was saying it to himself but she can’t dwell on that for much longer because she feels the tightness in her stomach start to ball up in anticipation.

“I’m close, Harry,” YN mewls as she starts to grind her hips forward again and ignoring his prompts from earlier, she was being selfish now in chasing her relief that she’s been craving.

“Well you’re not coming because you can’t seem to listen very well,” Harry replies as he pulls his hand out from her underwear, the elastic causing a mark on his hand where it’s been stretched taut around his wrist.

YN whines when that building of sensation begins to fizzle out.

She’s never been denied like this before.

It was usually quite the accomplishment when a guy could get her there in the first place.

Now Harry was making it seem simple to get her to the edge, simple enough that he didn’t care about taking it away from her either.

“No, no,” YN gasps when her legs start to feel unsteady from how much she’d been tensing them previously, there’s no stopping the tears that are stemming at the corner of her eyes now.

Harry’s expression changes once again, the dominance and teasing dissipating into something sweeter as he brings her into his chest, kissing the apples of her cheeks as he sweeps a few hairs off her face.

“S’okay,” He simpers, it isn’t teasing or condescending, “No used to being denied, are you?”

YN shakes her head, basking in the way his hands are rubbing at her sides, massaging at her hips.

“Color?”

“Green.”

Without a second thought.

The brightest green possible.

Maybe the green of his eyes.

“Can I take you to my room?” Harry asks softly, pulling back to study her face and swipe over cheekbones where she knows she’s overheated.

“Please,” YN replies, taking his hand when he holds it out.

As they walk through the expanse of his home, up the flight of stairs, she realizes just how dressed he is in comparison to her - everything but his jacket still on as his boots click against the hardwood floors.

His room is similar to the rest of the home, barely lived in with not even a picture to make it seem homey.

The colors were dull neutrals of beige, tan, white, and not one thing that made it seem like he slept here every night - even the bed was made with tight lines and tucked corners.

It was beautiful, all of it, expensive-looking but not for a home, maybe for a hotel.

The only sign of him was the closet that was open, rows of neatly hung and organized clothes lining the walls to show that this was in fact a lived-in space.

YN sits on the edge of the bed as Harry moves around to turn on a few of the lamps before turning off the brighter overhead.

He comes to stand in front of her, his hand coming down to cup her face once again, he’s looks mesmerized by her, the way his eyes are tracing over every single one of her feautres, “I want you so much.”

YN’s breathing hitches, getting caught in her throat for a moment becuase he says it with such intensity and she truly can feel how much he means it.

It’s too intimate for a one night stand.

All of this has been already.

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” YN tells him honestly, it’s not that she didn’t enjoy the teasing.

No, she absolutely loved it.

She could imagine a whole day laid up in bed with him, letting him play with her however she wanted but now wasn’t the time, the need was too intense to have the patience for that.

His lips tilt up at that, “Don’t think I could say ‘no’ to you even if I wanted. Caught me ‘round your finger, haven’t you? Impossible not to be gone with your beauty, if I’m honest. Everything about you.”

It’s all talk, YN reminds herself.

All part of the give and take of a one-time hookup.

YN moves to begin to undress him but he bats her hands away, moving much quicker to rid himself of his clothes, and though his shirt hadn’t left much to the imagination - it’s still startling to see how fit he is.

His muscles quite literally ripple as he bends down to rid himself of his trousers, as he tucks his thumbs into his briefs, and shimmies them down his lean thighs without an ounce of insecurity like YN have.

There was no world where he’d need to be insecure, not with how defined and beautiful his body was, the tattoos just the icing on the cake to what was already breathtaking.

When she reaches out, without even thinking to wrap her hand around him because that part of him matches the attractiveness of the rest of him - unfair that he’s so magnificently built and has a length to match.

He wraps his fingers around her wrist, moving to lay her hand flat on his abdomen, shaking his head, “Tonight’s about you, pup. What do you want?”

YN lets her hand wander over the expanse of his stomach, dipping into the ridges of hard muscle until she’s met with the softer, plush of his hips, and repeating the process over and over.

“Puppy,” Harry laughs fondly at her distractedness, tapping her on the nose to get her attention.

The laugh stops when YN leans forward to press her lips against his warm skin, appreciative kisses smeared against the butterfly on his upper stomach, the light sprinkling over hair by his bellybutton.

“How-“ Harry’s breathing heavier now, voice not sounding as confident for a moment until he clears his throat and sounds more steady, “How do you want it, darling?”

YN pulls back, albeit unwillingly, and it’s a hard question.

Now she’s spoiled for choice.

But there’s one thing that she cannot get out of her head.

“I want to ride you,” YN decides finally, lifting her hips when Harry finally gets her thong off, wriggling the tight fabric off the thick of her hips and thighs before he’s adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

“I-“ Harry’s voice is unsteady again, “Are you sure? I can do the work, pet.”

“It’s what I want,” YN tells him with an unwavering gaze.

“S’what you’re going to get then,” Harry rumbles in agreement, surprising her when he sits next to her on the end of the bed, fully expecting him to shimmy up towards the middle to splay out.

He tugs her onto his lap until she’s straddling him with knees pressed into the mattress on either side, and chest squished up against his.

His hands move to cup her bum, moving to situate them just right but YN is too impatient for the careful positioning that Harry’s doing, reaching down to guide him into where she needed him most.

“Fucking hell,” Harry moans lowly in surprise as she sinks down onto him.

He fits in her perfectly, it was exactly what she needed but because she was so on edge, she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to last long because that tension was already building back up in her belly.

“Harry,” YN moans as she sits down completely, clit brushing against his pubic bone to provide the friction that she needed.

“You’re okay, you’re perfect. There you go,” He encourages, one hand still on her ass, and the other moving to cup her neck, “You’re such a good girl, never had anyone take it so well.”

A flame of jealousy shouldn’t lick up her spine at the thought of him with someone else but it does momentarily.

YN lifts up to start a rhythm that works more for her than for him, rotating her hips instead of bouncing to get him to reach the spot inside of her while getting the sensation on her bud at the same time.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind how greedy and self-indulgent she’s being right now, holding her closely, and murmuring words of encouragement against her cheek where his lips are brushing soft kisses.

“There you go, take what you want. S’yours.”

“That’s it, you feel so good on me.”

“You’re wrecking me, pup. Never had it this good.”

It was all too much, too intimate, too addicting for one time.

When Harry grips her bum harder, directing her grinds more harshly into him, more unrelenting and intense, it barrels her towards the release that she’s been craving since he met him.

“I’m….I’m coming,” YN pants out, she was sheen with sweat, the previous chilled house seeming like a sauna as her skin sticks to Harry’s, hips picking up the pace as the band in her belly releases and she’s barreling over the edge.

“Yeah, pup. Give it to me, you’re the most beautiful thing, coming on my cock,” Harry groans as she squeezes around him, it doesn’t take more than two or three thrust upwards for him to follow suit.

“Fuck, you did so good,” Harry sighs as they sit there, he keeps her in his lap as he brushes her hair away from her face and neck, peppering kisses along her sweaty temple, and rubbing up and down her back.

It was too intimate.

YN was liking this too much.

And god, that really fucking scared her.

YN’s quiet when they finally separate, Harry goes about cleaning them both up as best as he can with a damp cloth, and there’s no conversation about her spending the night because he’s tucking her into the comforter without discussion before sliding in next to her.

When YN wakes up the next time, it’s still dark outside, and she realizes that she was awoken by movement in the room.

As she sits up, she blinks the sleep out of her eyes, and her bones still feel heavy from not getting enough sleep to recover from her activities on the night.

There’s only a dim lamp in the corner of the room, it highlights Harry who’s now dressed in a pair of dress pants, a button- up and suit jacket slung over a chair in the corner of the room.

The clock reads five in the morning. .

“Hi,” YN rasps, voice thick with sleep, no attempting to keep the confusion out of her tone.

She rubs her eyes to try to wake herself a bit more.

When Harry looks over at her - well, he looks different.

He doesn't have a twinkle in his eye and his lips are set in a firm line.

There hadn’t been anything that had happened between the time he helped lay her down in his bed and now that would warrant the change in his demeanor but she already felt her stomach sinking before the words came out of his mouth.

“You can leave now. I’ve folded on the bench with money for a cab. I need you out in the next twenty minutes, I have to go,” Harry states bluntly, uninterested in her response as he goes back to his suitcase without another glance.

True to his word, on the bench in front of the bed was her outfit neatly folded and bills for a ride home.

What a fucking asshole.

“You must be joking,” YN laughs in disbelief, was she really getting kicked out right now?

Her mind was spinning.

How did they go from having such an amazing, intimate night to being kicked to the curb?

It wasn’t like she expected them to fall madly in love or for him to even want her number but of course there was hope this could be more.

She just wasn’t expecting this.

“I have multiple meetings this morning before I leave on a business trip. I don’t have time for this back and forth. I don’t know what your expectations of me were but this is where our night ends. We fucked, that’s it. Alright?” Harry’s tone is monotone, emotionless, and he won’t even look at her.

YN lets out a scoff for him to know just how pissed off she was, ripping the comforter off her body and letting it crumble onto the ground as she slides out of the bed.

She looks down and realizes Harry had slid a very baggy shirt onto her, probaly as she was falling asleep last night.

It was a Kiss band tee.

It looked expensive and vintage.

It nearly brushed her mid-thighs.

Fuck it, she’s not giving it back.

Gathering in her phone, dress, shoes, she storms out of his bedroom.

She could get her own fucking cab.

YN makes her way quickly through the maze of the rather large house, finding the staircase and wanting to get out of this house as soon as fucking possible with annoyance when she hears him trailing after her.

When her hand reaches the knob on his front door, he’s not far behind her, having the advantage of knowing his way around his own house.

“You can wait for your ride here. It’s still dark out. You don’t have to stand outside. Are you going to put your clothes back on? You don’t have any pants on and it’s cold out.”

He doesn’t ask for his shirt back.

YN laughs dryly, no humor in his tone as she says, “Now you care? I’d rather not spend another minute in your house, prick.”

With that, she’s yanking open the heavy front door, ready to never see this man again.

Before she closes it, she looks at Harry who’s looking at her with a mixed expression of concern, surprise, and anger.

It was comical.

“And I don’t need your fucking money,” She spits, tossing the bills back into the house, slowly dancing to the ground before slamming the front door.

Already pulling up Uber on her phone as she walks down the sidewalk.

Fuck that asshole.

++++

YN tossed and turned a bit when she got back home - still infuriated with the man she’d just left.

It didn’t help that he had made her feel so much pleasure and that sex had been amazing.

He had to ruin it with his shitty personality.

He really did put on a good act though.

When she’s finally up, later than normal, and stirring her iced coffee with too much caramel and creamer, she gets an incoming call.

“Hiya babe,” An voice chirps, someone she doesn’t want to talk to right at this moment.

“What do you want?” YN mutters back, sipping on her drink without enthusiasm.

“I got a last minute job for you,” He supplies, his voice a little hesitant.

Niall was the...well the middle-man so to speak.

He was the liaison between her and the men she called her sugar daddies.

Niall worked for a higher up - it was a shady business at best but they did take care of their girls.

YN was grateful for their safety measures.

Background checks, always having security on standby if a girl needs help, as well as giving the women freedom to turn down men they didn’t want to deal with without a need for explanation.

“Now tell me, why does it sound like you’re about to tell me somethin’ I don’t like?” YN replies suspiciously.

Niall wasn’t ever known to be described as hesitant.

“I know it’s last minute, okay? But a new customer needs a date for a three day trip to Milan. The flight leaves tonight.”

“Fuck no, I -”

“He’s willing to pay fifty-thousand up-front to you, plus everything on the trip,” Niall tells her and she really can’t say no to that amount of money, he knows that and that’s why he’s even asking.

She’s never ever been offered that much.

It would help a lot.

“Fine,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her face at the thought of the quick packing and preparing that she’s going to need to do in a very short amount of time. “Does he know what I look like?”

Niall had a habit of not showing the men pictures - just assuring them that the girl is hot.

Only that sometimes doesn’t work out - not when the men have certain preferences such as body shape, hair color, eye color, etc…

“He didn’t want to see any pictures. He said that he didn’t care what the girl looked like as long as she cleaned up nicely and could hold herself intelligently at his events. The man literally only wants you as arm candy,” Niall replies.

This all sounds a bit too good to be true, “Niall, are you sure this is legitimate?”

“Of course. Did a background check, Job check, he paid us his ten-thousand dollar deposit upfront plus an extra five grand due to the short notice. He provided all of his information and signed all the forms.”

“He’s dumb rich, isn’t he?” YN laughs, hearing the absurd amount of money he dished out for a three-day date.

He must be desperate.

“Only worth a cool four-hundred and thirty million dollars.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Not even joking, I should have charged the dude more if I’m honest,” Niall laughs loudly.

“Must have one hell of an ugly mug if he can’t find a girl willing to go without paying,” YN chuckles - girls don’t care what men look like when their wallets are fat enough.

“I met him earlier. Handsome bloke, young dude too. Quite a mystery but I don’t ask questions - just accept the money. He had it all in cash,” Niall tells her before adding, “I’m going to send you all the details. You need to be at the port by six sharp.”

YN guesses an all expenses paid trip to Milan would be a nice way to get her shitty day off of her mind.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

YN’s Uber gets to the private airport just a bit before six, they were already getting everything ready to go as she exits the car and thanks the driver after he gets her two suitcases out of the boot.

She always had a bit of nerves before meeting her next client, this could be a very easy three days or difficult depending on who he is but usually it worked out just fine and she was never trapped.

However when a sharp, matte black phantom pulls up to the tarmac, YN knows that has to be her client’s car, and when the door opens, the opposite way than normal, she’s more than flabbergasted by who exits.

None other than Harry who looks equally as surprised as her before he hardens his facial features once again.

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