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caesium-55 · 2 months

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—seven days. [ iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.

masterlist.

you: *sent a link*

him: ?

him: what's this

you: benefits of crying

you: read it it's enlightening

him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay

you: why crying helps.

you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.

you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.

you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.

you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.

him: it feels like an std

you: pussy

you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.

you: you may look fine now but i know you

him: please stop

you: no

you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.

him: what even is that

you: the parasympathetic nervous system

him: ??

you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school

you: education is important yknow

you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence

him: fuck you im smart

you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography

you: you probably can't do your taxes

him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default

him: the american system is just weird

you: cant argue w/ u there

you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance

you: see? you need that

you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy

him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now

you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?

You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.

In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.

You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?

Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?

Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.

You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.

You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.

Max Max Max Super Max Max—

“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”

Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.

“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”

He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.

You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.

The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.

“Max, sweetheart, you there?”

No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.

Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.

“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.

Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.

This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.

Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.

When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.

Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.

“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.

Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”

You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.

“Max—”

“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”

What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.

You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.

“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.

“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.

“They’re mismatched.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.

“Ignore them.”

Silence.

“You good now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”

“Okay.”

Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.

“For coming here.”

You shrug.

“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”

Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.

“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”

He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.

You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.

After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.

You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.

The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.

Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.

You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.

The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.

The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.

Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.

You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.

“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”

But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.

The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.

“We should drink,” you suggest.

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”

He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.

“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”

Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.

Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.

Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.

At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.

Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.

“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.

“Hm?”

“That it was unfair for her.”

You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”

“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”

You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.

“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”

Kelly….what the fuck?

“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”

“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.

Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.

“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

#manager!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #formula one #fanfic #angst #mv1 #mv33 x reader #mv33

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vivwritesfics · 1 month

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Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Twenty - Monaco Daniel

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

2.7K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Warnings: light smut, eating out, handcuffs, Daniels gorgeous nose being put to work

Series Masterlist

"I can't wait for you to meet Monaco Daniel."

He'd said it after she'd explored the entirety of the gorgeous apartment, had looked out onto the balcony and then put her bags in the room they would be sharing.

She was looking at the pictures on his walls when he walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her and placed his chin on her shoulder.

"Who is Monaco Daniel?" She asked him, placing her hands on top of his.

Daniel moved his chin from her shoulder and whispered in her ear. It was enough to make her choke as she pulled away from him. "Monaco Daniel sounds..."

She had no response. Not because she didn't want Monaco Daniel. Quite the opposite. She wanted Monaco Daniel real bad. "Who are the friends who would look after the kids?" She asked.

"Max and Lando," he answered.

Y/N knew very little about Max and Lando. But Daniel trusted them, and that was enough for her. Plus, every time she had met them, they'd been friendly towards her. "Sounds brilliant," she said, turning to kiss him.

Daniel gave her a bit of time to shower, freshen up and change into something else. As soon as she was done, she walked out of the bedroom and got herself a glass of water.

"Milo, Olivia and I were thinking about going out for lunch," Daniel said to her, his arm settling around her waist.

All he wanted was to be near her. He was like a teenager in love again. Of course, he didn't notice the way that Milo refused to look at him, the way Milo looked down at his lap.

"Sounds great," said Y/N, leaning against him. "What're we thinking of getting?"

That was how the four of them found themselves walking around Monaco, looking for somewhere to eat. Daniel let the way, pointing things out of them as they went.

They sat in a café. Milo and Olivia got sandwiches and juice, and the adults got coffee's. "Hey Milo," Daniel called, wearing a grin. "Do you wanna walk the track after this?"

Milo looked up at Daniel. He'd seen the Monaco Grand Prix that year, had seen the other AlphaTauri crash into the wall. He didn't realise it wasn't Daniel, at first. It had panicked him slightly, until he saw the driver that wasn't Daniel climb out of the car, safe and sound.

Milo nodded his head, chewing on his lip. He finished his sandwich and looked towards his mother.

But it wasn't his mother who spoke to him next. "My daddy won the Monaco Grand Prix a few years ago," she said proudly.

"You did?" Y/N asked, turning her attention to Daniel.

Daniel grinned and nodded his head. "The year that Olivia was born. I had technical problems but I pushed that car over the finish line and brought home the seventh win of my career."

"That's incredible," she said, reaching for his hand under the table. "We definitely need to watch it, right Munchkin?" She asked, turning her attention to Milo.

Again, Milo just nodded.

After they had eaten, the four of them headed out of the café. Daniel let the way, walking them around the streets that made up the Monaco Grand Prix. He walked beside Milo the entire time, pointing things out and telling him facts and stories from the Grand Prix he'd taken part in.

Y/N could see what Daniel was trying to do. She just had to hope it was working. At first Milo nodded along to what Daniel was saying, not offering much in terms of conversation. But Daniel kept going, kept trying. He wasn't going to stop until Milo was talking to him.

And it worked. Soon, Milo was talking back to Daniel, asking him questions. Daniel pointed out the breaking zones and the two of them visibly slowed their steps before taking the corner. It was adorable.

"Are you excited to go to America with your dad, Olivia?" Y/N asked as she walked beside her.

Olivia nodded her head. "Yeah! Daddy said we could go to a ranch and go horse riding!"

"That's great, Livvy! Can you do me a favour and get your daddy to send me pictures? I'd love to see it," she replied.

Olivia looked up at her. "Can't you and Milo come with us?" She asked innocently.

Y/N gave her a grim smile. "I'm sorry, Liv," she said quietly, shortening her name even further. "But Milo and I need to get back home. We'll try to call you as often as we can," she promised.

"Can you guys come next time?"

"We'll try our best."

***

There was a knock on the apartment door. Daniel got up from the sofa and pulled it open, greeted with the faces of two of his best friends. He stepped to the side, letting Lando and Max walk into his apartment.

"Uncle Max!" Olivia cried, running towards her favourite uncle.

Immediately, Max picked her up. It lasted maybe two seconds before Olivia was back on the floor. "Hey Milo," Max called, waving across the room.

Lando stepped out from behind Max and opened his arms for Olivia. "You gonna come say hello to your Uncle Lando or what?" He asked, wearing a grin.

The hug Olivia gave Lando was less enthusiastic than the way she hugged Max. But she instantly broke out into giggles and gave Lando a proper greeting.

"Hey guys," Called Y/N as she walked out of the bedroom, putting in earrings.

Daniels breath caught in his throat. She was dressed in a red satin dress that fell to her knees. The material hugged her body. The neckline dropped slightly lower at her chest, but revealed nothing, and two thin straps went over her shoulders.

"Hi Y/N!" Both Max and Lando called across the room.

Her small heels clicked against the floor as she walked over to where Milo sat on the couch and crouched to his level. "Milo, munchkin," she began as she moved Rexy to one side. "Max is gonna take you and Olivia to go play with his cats. Would you like that?"

Milo picked up Rexy yet again. "Can I ask him about racing?" He asked.

"I'm sure you can, Munchkin," she said.

Taking his hand, she got Milo down from the sofa and walked him over to Max and Lando. "Hi, Mr Verstappen," he said. Milo immediately began showing off Rexy.

His mother turned to Lando. "Thanks for taking them," she said and leaned against the wall. "He's probably gonna spend the night asking you about racing."

"It's no worries, seriously," Lando replied. "He can have a go on our sim if he wants. You two just go have fun, you crazy kids," he said and grinned.

Lando and Max took the kids with them as they left Daniel's apartment. They said goodbye, Milo hugging his mother, and followed the F1 drivers away.

As soon as they were gone, Daniel turned his attention to her. His hands were on her hips, pressing her against the wall. "You look incredible," he whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Tempted to skip dinner and show you Monaco Daniel right here and now."

She leaned forward and kissed him quickly. "You know I can't wait to see Monaco Daniel. But lets get food first. For stamina and all that, you know?"

Daniel grinned. He stepped away from her, holding her hand and pulling her away from the wall. She followed her into the bedroom and sat her on the bed as he began getting dressed.

As soon as he was ready, they were heading out of the apartment. Daniel held her hand as he led her down to the parking garage. He pulled open the car door and held her hand as she climbed in. "Thank you, Danny," she said. He kissed her hand before letting go of her and shutting the car door.

Throughout their dinner, it was hard to concentrate on anything but each other. For Daniel it was hard to concentrate on anything but the way she pressed her leg against his in the rounded booth they shared. For her, it was hard to concentrate on anything but the way his hand gripped her thigh.

Daniel could hardly pull himself away from her to eat. He had no idea what he ordered, wouldn't be able to tell Max and Lando if they later asked. He was far more interested in her.

After the dinner, Daniel parked up near the beach. As he walked her across the beach, the waves crashed against the stones and pebbles. "Milo would love this," she said as she leaned against Daniel, looking out across the sea. "He'd sit here and draw the view."

"Tomorrow," said Daniel. "We'll bring them here tomorrow."

And suddenly, Y/N got an idea. She pulled away from him, pulled her phone from her bag and placed it on the ground as it softly played music. "Come on," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and began swaying. "Just like our first date."

Daniel was more than happy to move with her. His forehead was against hers and he kissed her as they moved. Soon the dancing stopped and they were kissing beneath the stars.

She pulled away from him and rested her head against his chest. "Take me home and introduce me to Monaco Daniel," she whispered.

Before she knew it they were driving back home at such a speed. A thrilled laugh ran through her as Daniel pulled into the parking garage. He parked quickly, grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the car, up to his apartment.

"You're gonna love Monaco Daniel," he said as he rushed to unlock the apartment door. "Monaco Daniel is all about you."

As soon as he got them into the apartment, he kissed her. Her back was against the door and he kissed her as he pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders.

Monaco Daniel wasted in time and undressed her, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. It seemed unfair that he was still fully dressed as he led her into the bedroom. "Sit on the bed," he commanded, and she did just that.

Monaco Daniel stripped himself as he dug through his closet, looking for something. "Aha!" He called when he found what he was looking for, pulling a box forward from the back of the closet.

Daniel presented her with handcuffs. "Oh, so Monaco Daniel is kinky," she said, reaching forward to take the handcuffs off of him.

But Daniel held them just out of reach. "Whose wrists do you think these are going on, baby?" He asked, pocketing them. He reached back, unclipping her bra, and laid her on the bed.

He pulled her bra away from her body and dropped it to the floor. Daniel kissed her, raising her arms above her head, until her wrists were up by the headboard.

There was no protest as Daniel used his handcuffs to secure her to the bed. She tugged once, testing out the strength of the metal. She let out a satisfied hum when they held up.

Daniel kissed her again. He kissed down her body, kissing between her breasts and down her stomach, until he was where she needed him most. "Monaco Daniel is gonna eat you out until scream my name."

Monaco Daniel dove in. His hands were on her stomach as his tongue moved across her folds, pushing in.

She couldn't deny that she had thought about Daniel's nose before. At first she thought it was gorgeous. And she still did think it was gorgeous. But she couldn't wait to see it in use.

The moment his nose bumped against her clit, she let out an almost pornographic moan. "Holy shit," she cried as she tried to reach for his hair. But, fuck, the handcuffs held her back. She settled for gripping the headboard instead.

***

"Ugh, you beat me again!" Cried Lando as Olivia once again beat him in a video game. "How are you so good at this, Liv?"

"You're just really bad, uncle Lan," Olivia answered as she started another game.

In another room, Milo was asking Max any and all questions he had about being a racing driver. Max leaned against the counter as he cooked up something for the four of them to eat. He'd made the effort to go shopping to get something for Milo and Olivia to eat the minute Daniel texted him.

As Milo asked his questions, he had a piece of paper in front of him, drawing away. Max had opened his laptop in front of Milo, giving him a picture to draw.

"Do you wanna be a driver?" Max asked as he began plating things up.

Milo shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno," he answered. "I don't think my momma has the money for it."

Max gave a grim smile. "Well then, I guess you'll have to just watch me and Daniel race until you can join us on track."

"Really, Mr Verstappen? That would be so cool!"

Milo grabbed his colouring pencils from his bag and began to fill in the F1 car he was drawing with colour. Dark blue, just like the car Max drove.

He put the plates on the table, calling Lando and Olivia to sit and eat with them.

"My daddy said I could start karting soon," Olivia said as she ate. "Uncle Maxy, Uncle Lando, do you think you could come to my races?"

Lando nodded. "Are you gonna go karting too, Milo?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Probably not," he said.

The look Max sent Lando told him everything he needed to know. "Well, Olivia said it's your birthday in a few months," he said. "Maybe Max and I chip in, help you pay for karting as a birthday present."

"Really, uncle Lan?!" Olivia called excitedly. "That would be so cool!"

After they ate, Lando stuck on a movie while Max cleaned up. Full up, both kids found themselves nodding off as they watched the movie. Max and Lando made a decision to take them home. They gathered their things, put them into their bags and checked their phones.

Suddenly, Max's phone began ringing. He swiped his phone across the screen, silencing it before it woke up Milo or Olivia. "We're just about to take the kids back to yours."

"Don't!" Cried Daniel, his voice panicked. "We're having a little emergency here. Y/N and I will be by to pick the kids up in a little bit. Just keep them there!"

"What the hell is going on?" Max asked, his voice hurried. "Are you guys okay?"

They were, in fact, not okay. Y/N was still stuck to the headboard, her body sweaty. She had only just stopped shaking and Daniel was desperately searching for the key.

"Maybe we should have made sure we had it before sticking me to the bed," Y/N said. It was obvious now. She desperately pulled as Daniel searched through his closet.

"Fuck," he cried, digging through his things. But it was nowhere to be seen. "Shit, babe. I think we might have to find another way to get them off."

She looked up at the handcuffs. "Do you have a bread knife we can cut them off with?"

Suddenly Daniel was out of the bedroom, running towards the kitchen. He searched through his kitchen drawers, desperately searching for the serrated bread knife.

"AHA!"

Daniel ran back into the room. "Danny! Stop running with the knife!" She cried and he slowed down. "I can't have you stabbing yourself while I'm stuck here," she said.

Placing the knife between his teeth, Daniel crawled on top of her. He took the knife from between his teeth and instantly began cutting at the leather of the handcuffs. It was a good minute before the knife went through the leather.

But Daniel kept going, until the knife went all the way through and she pulled her hands apart.

The handcuffs were still around her wrists as she and Daniel rushed to get dressed. "We'll get them off later," he said as he threw a clean shirt towards her.

Together, she and Daniel rushed to the front door. But he stopped her before she could pull it open. "I love you," he said and kissed her.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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cheesus-doodles · 3 months

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How does Ran view Rindo’s best friend reader? And what’s his opinion on their relationship? I really like your work on Rindo and reader!

thank you for your kind words anon!

Masterlist | Rindo Tags

ㅤ‎

Ran thinks that the two of you together are adorable.

Yes sure, he knows damn well that both the both of them are delinquents who ruthlessly rule the back alleys of Roppongi with an iron fist, and that they are indeed supposed to be feared. But how was he supposed to think any other way when he sees Rindo with you?

Even though you clearly are the more easygoing and naive of your little pair with a tendency to go along with whatever it was that Rindo wanted, in Ran's eyes, its still his younger brother who comes off as the lost puppy trailing you looking for affection and attention, happy to let you lead him around by the nose. Yes, both of the Haitanis have both been in and out of juvie for various reasons, and Ran is perfectly aware of how Rindo is actually like during fights, having no qualm with breaking bones and putting faces through cement. Yet Ran still finds it hard to find any good reason to fear Rindo whenever you are arm-in-arm with him, chattering away with a complete lack of awareness to your surroundings. Ran, in fact, finds it rather amusing to occasionally poke his younger brother by linking arms with you just to get a reaction out of him and see him growl and threaten.

There was no way that Ran could possibly hate you, not with what you had done for Rindo. As the older of the two (not by much but still), Ran takes it upon himself to learn about and keep an eye out for Rindo, even if the younger Haitani dislikes his older brother's intrusions into his life.

And from what Ran can tell, Rindo has only changed for the better - as much as a delinquent can, at least. He knew that the day you picked Rindo over him was the day that something within Rindo had sparked (or snapped), and the younger Haitani had never let go of you since then, which you didn't seem to mind. Good thing either way, since with you came a sense of responsibility for Rindo that he never had, and Ran do so appreciate Rindo caring about something outside of picking fights for a change. Maybe you could get him to care about bills as well soon.

You did bring a breath of fresh air into both their lives, which the older of the brothers appreciates. With you came normal afternoons, calm evenings, and even peaceful nights; being a regular civilian with no ties to the gang life, you usually were the one to drag the two Haitani brothers around to your favourite cafes or the newest shops. Normal activities. Of course, the the only caveat to peace and normality being that you were within arm's length of Rindo, but that was easy enough to achieve.

‎

Ran does however wish from time to time that you were the slightest bit more self aware and less air-headed. The amount of stress you cause his younger brother on a day-to-day basis simply can't be healthy, but more importantly, it affects Ran as well. Don't get him wrong, this older delinquent was content to watch his younger brother run around like a headless chicken from time to time, but when it spills over into his life and causes Ran to lose his precious sleep is where he draws the line. Maybe with a few more brain cells, you would be able to learn which action would result in a explosive reaction from your best friend, but it has already been years and Ran isn't hopeful.

Rindo always anxiously checking in on you whenever he could as if you would vanish off the face of the earth the moment he wasn't looking (being lured into a van and kidnapped with candy was what Rindo swears would be enough to work on you, and Ran didn't doubt as much). And when he couldn't, Ran would have the chance to be amused by his younger brother compulsively opening and closing his phone every second just to make sure he wasn't missing any messages that you were sending him, before giving in after five minutes and simply calling you. This would quickly turn into a full blown cursing and swearing session when you fail to pick up within half a minute, followed by a panicked Rindo dropping everything to take off and hunt you down.

This usually happens during school time, when the younger of the Haitanis reluctantly let you attend class, only to storm your classroom later on, though meltdowns also tend to happen at night when you aren't sleeping over at their place. And the latter is when Ran gets awoken by all the scrambling, sometimes getting dragged up as well to look for you when Rindo happens to barge into your room on the rare occasion you wandered out for a midnight snack.

Despite Ran knowing that whatever Rindo has going on with you isn't quite normal, with Rindo being a tad too obsessed with knowing where you were and what you were doing at all times, the older delinquent doesn't care. As long as his younger brother was happy, Ran was content with playing along. And alas, until Ran can knock some common sense into that empty head of yours, he'll settle for tying you to a chair and hauling your ass back to Rindo.

Ah the woes of being an older brother.

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sexydoffyman · 3 months

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Okay okay okay.

Hear me out.

What if for some darn reason, the 141 members can purr, ie, they just... Learned how to do it and unintentionally do it as a comfort thing??

For example, cuddling with simon or something and suddenly he's just.. passed the f*CK out on you and purring because he's so relaxed and happy to be all snuggled with his favorite person??

You don't gotta respond to this if ya don't wanna, I just thought it was cute!

HYBRID AU PURRING HCS

navigation

genre: fluff

characters: Simon Riley, John Price

A/N: Will write more of this eventually🐠

AU NOTE: They are like hybrids with cats and such (purring animals) they only have traits of the animals. They don't share their physical appearance with them. (IN THIS SPECIFIC AU(In case I make another one of these))

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

-He is the kind of person who would never admit to the fact that they purr.

-"You are a cat hybrid, right?" "Yeah" "So you purr." "No" "But it's in your nature." "I don't purr."

-He is just so stressed all the time. His trust issues are really taking a toll on him.

-But if you just have that spark in you and if he notices it, he will warm up to you.

-He's very scared to ask you for anything regarding rest.

-He is just so exhausted. Too exhausted to move. Too exhausted to worry.

-He tries to walk to his room but just isn't able to. It only results in him falling to the ground. He eventually gives up, trying to get up and figures that the floor is not so bad.

-Suddenly, he felt his body leave the floor.

-You were dragging him.

-Normally, he would be ashamed, but right now, he isn't able to even talk.

-You find your way to his room and manage to get the keys to said room out of his pocket.

-He's barely conscious.

-He feels so good when you lay him on the bed.

-You dragging him made it so that you are kind of under him. So when you get up to leave, he has a perfect opportunity to instinctively get a hold of you and hug you like a plush toy.

-For some reason, his body doesn't allow you to go away. Ghost has been asleep for a while now. He isn't aware that he is gripping onto you like that.

-He's also not aware that he is purring.

-You just let him purr as you position yourself into a more comfortable position.

-When he wakes up, he will shamefully apologise to you.

-Even after this day, he insists that he doesn't purr.

"CAPTAIN" JOHN PRICE

-John is a very confident dude. He doesn't mind showing his comfort.

-He purrs on a daily basis. When he stretches his back. When he takes the first sip of his coffee.

-What he is not so comfortable letting you see is his need for support.

-He also, like Ghost, ends up way too tired to function.

-He finds it secure enough to take a smaller nap on a couch.

-It is late at night, so there is very little chance that somebody will find him.

-Unfortunately for him, you find yourself stumbling upon his sleeping form.

-You see him huddled up in a ball. A thing you'd never expect him to do. With that, you decide to comfort your captain.

-No one would be in such a position in such a place if they weren't stressed and or tired.

-You initially thought of finding a better place for him to rest at. You sit on the couch next to him to think about where to drag him.

-You can't even grab him since he is the one doing the grabbing.

-He pulls you beside him. Just your presence makes him feel safer.

-You can feel his shoulders drop and see his face rest.

-With all of that, he starts to softly purr into your ear.

-You never thought he'd be so cuddly, but you didn't mind it. You enjoyed the was he took in your scent.

-That's not the last time it'll happen.

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voonroo · 3 months

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Could I please request some platonic HCs for Sir Pentious and Angel Dust with a more reserved/naïve teen!reader sinner that’s relatively new to hell, somewhat overwhelmed by just all that chaos beyond the hotel, and ends up forming a paternal/sibling-like bond with them? Like they got the impression early on that Pentious/Angel either were fun to be around or maybe even helped them feel safe, and so they’ve kind of been hanging around them and coming to them for advice ever since? Thanks!

Cover Your Ears I'm About To Say Something You Don't Need To Hear!

⌐‣Angel & Pentious + Teen Reader REQ

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I LOVE SIR PENTIOUS SO MUCH. He will get his moment. Trust. BTW ANGEL AS AN OLDER BROTHER WOULD BE SO FUNNY–

Angel & Teen Reader

When he first saw you in the hotel not looking your hottest, he immediately felt a pang of pity.

News spread quickly in the hotel that you were new to hell. So he gave you some time before striking up a conversation.

You two hit it off without a hitch!

Angel often just calls you “kid” but it's in the most loving way possible.

He doesn't mind your reserved nature, easily talking enough for the both of you. So often, he’ll lead the conversation (a rant) and ask for your input every so often.

He tries his hardest not to spit dirty jokes in your presence, he doesn't really give two shits if you're naive, he's gonna try to keep you that way.

He wouldn't tell you what he does for a living and would probably try to avoid you after a rough shift to make absolutely sure that he doesn't pop off at you.

When you begin to come to (him!) for advice— oh that's when he takes the title of big brother.

He’d try his hardest to give you the best advice for anything you ask. If he can't think of something on the spot then expect a message with step-by-step advice at like 1 am.

Pentious & Teen Reader

When he met you in the hotel and saw how young you were and how stressed you looked, tears could be seen in his eyes. (he's an empath I swear.)

He’d try to distract you from your own negative feelings frequently.

He calls you “my child” at first- even though you're a teenager… But soon it changes to him calling you your name like a normal person.

Another one who talks (rants) enough for the two of you. However, he’d be talking inventor and even if you don't know what he's talking about (you will soon) he will ask you your recommendations, thoughts, ideas, etcetera etcetera.

He loves trying to teach you how to build things. Whenever you're successful he claps his hands excitedly with the proudest smile on his face– and he's crying…

He grows attached very easily and will gladly take on the title of “father” The egg bois call you “the boss’s child”

Pentious won't allow any disrespect on your name even if it means he gets all the disrespect himself.

“You're naive? Oh don't worry I can be that too sssometimes—”

He knows he's so happy when you come to him for advice. He may not give the best advice but god damn it, with how he presents his answer to you with so much confidence- it might as well be.

“We ssshould nuke them!”

Word Count: 443

Inbox is open!!

#gender neutral reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x teen reader #hazbin pentious #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin hotel pentious #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #x reader #hazbin x teen reader #x teen!reader #voonroo #hazbin x reader platonic #hazbin hotel x reader platonic

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weebsinstash · 4 months

Text

something that I think would be, truly one of the worst things about the yandere Batfamily really truly is their power to make any and every problem you've ever had completely go away in no time at all

it can be such an awful feeling to see that you struggled in vain with something that was nothing at all to someone else. You could have significant issues that have followed you all your life and have had traumatic impacting effects on you and these people could come in and sweep that all away. Student loans you've been paying off for years, if not a fraction of your lifespan, still burying you in debt? We are talking fucking decimal points on the scale of Bruce Wayne's wealth. That bad leg from an old work injury? Let's grab you one of the best doctors in Gotham, if not the entire world, fuck, we may even get you a doctor or medicine that isn't even human-made! Y'all want a magic leg? We know this chick who can speak backwards, you want a magically healed leg?

Crippling loneliness? Eternal sunshine and objectively best Robin Dick Grayson is here to brighten your entire world since he knows what it can feel like to be hurting and alone and he's literally like the heart and soul of the entire manor besides Alfred

Chronic pain, an undiagnosed disability, or maybe you're not confident in your fitness? Jason has extensive knowledge of injury recovery, physical therapy, and overall knowledge about human biology and musculature and how everything correlates

Family issues? Daddy issues? Let Resident Troubled Kid Expert Alfred Pennyworth be your new grandpa. He's dealt with more than one temperamental snappy individual, and he'll use his patience, experience, and wit to wear down all your stress and hostility. It's hard to keep being cruel to someone who's nothing but kind to you, and he has plenty of patience and delicious baked treats to hold out until you give in

Honestly just the fact most of them are so fucking young would get under my skin. You could be approaching your 30s and be sitting here at the Wayne family dinner table as their weird sister/mom/girlfriend/whatever and being all "I've just always had these struggles my entire life, I dont know what's wrong with me, I feel like I can't control how I act or feel and I hate it" and someone like Tim who depending on the source material and where you are on the timeline is a literal teenager with extensive knowledge of criminals and psychology is just over here, "oh, that? You have chronic childhood trauma, recurring resurfacing conflict related ptsd, severe abandonment issues, emotional regulation problems that are probably biological, and also you probably have autism, and there's nothing wrong with any of that :)" and then he turns to Bruce and starts talking about how his school is taking a trip abroad to Greece while you sit there processing that everyone around the table has extensively psychologically evaluated you and you probably have your own file on the Batcomputer (you do. It's excessive.)

It's just. The psychology of having all these problems you've struggled with be wiped away by someone else like it's nothing and how, that can result in making someone feel all the more worthless and helpless. Oh, Bruce was able to just make all your problems disappear? Clearly YOU weren't trying hard enough. Tim is able to suss out what's wrong with you? Well YOU'RE the dysfunctional idiot who was born wrong, and YOU were the one choosing the wrong doctors. You're watching all these young teenagers or young adults be vigilantes and travel the world and learn multiple languages and you're like. Normal guy Steve from the grocery store. You know? They take control of your life and make you feel like a side character in it, because everything you do is now attached to them, and all of them and all of their adventures are so... spectacular

And really, someone with a meaner heart, and maybe someone more blunt like, say, Damian, could perhaps come in and make some comment, "see? This is why you needed our assistance in caring for you" and what are you gonna do, NOT act like they basically fixed your entire life in less than a year's time, with the one objection of kidnapping and imprisonment? You're just over here, "um yeah, actually, I'm an adult and I can take care of myself, you don't need to TAKE CARE OF ME???" meanwhile Bruce and Alfred are exchanging knowing looks while you speak as if the old butler hadn't needed to help you call your doctor and other important urgent matters because being on the phone with strangers gave you such intense anxiety. Ok yes sure honey you are a lovely functional adult and your brain is big and beautiful and perfect 🥰 now shut up about going to live back home on your own, go play Xbox with your new brothers or go bake something with Grandpa while the world's greatest detective sits down in the Batcave using the Batcomputer to track down and "have a friendly chat" with that one childhood teacher that gave you that one really specific trauma-

#yandere batfam #yandere x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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seonghrtz · 5 months

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𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌.

synopsis: fushiguro siblings need materials for their schoolwork, while gojo needs your help ⸻ again.

As the clock struck two o'clock in the afternoon, just as you had finished exorcizing a second grade curse, Gojo Satoru bombarded your inbox. You rolled your eyes as you regretted giving Gojo your number. You were aware of the young sorcerer's situation, and even more aware that it wasn't easy to look after two children half your age, but receiving sixty-eight messages at once was frightening.

Usually Gojo would send you photos of Megumi and Tsumiki, just Megumi alone and sometimes a photo of himself, and he would always send you questions about what to buy for the children to eat and how to make something tasty for them to take to school ⸻ he wasn't lying when he told you that he was trying to give these children as normal a childhood as possible. From time to time, Gojo would ask you trivial questions about everything and nothing, sometimes about you and your likes, nothing too invasive, and never about your family or your clan. But never, never in all that time had you received sixty-eight messages from him.

It was worrying, but coming from Gojo, you knew that if it was something that was really worrying, he wouldn't be texting you, he would be calling you right away. Just like when Megumi decided to ignore Gojo, since one of the six-eyed sorcerer's greatest pleasures was to annoy and tease the little boy. And Gojo, convinced that Megumi only listens to you, decided to call you and ask for your help with the "problem" between them. Of course, after you talked to Megumi and asked him to be more patient with Satoru, and after you pulled Gojo's ear ⸻ well, not exactly his ear, not least because of the infinity, but to lecture him ⸻, everything worked out.

One of the first things you thought of was that maybe Gojo needed you to help Megumi and Tsumiki with their homework, or something like that. And before answering Gojo's sixty-eight messages, you got back into the car that had taken you to the Kyoto Jujutsu School to report on your successful mission. But it seems that Gojo had bigger plans for that afternoon, and it seems that you were caught up in his plans. As you got out of the car, ready to hand in your mission report, a certain young man with white hair, round sunglasses and a smile came into view.

"Oi Kamo, why haven't you answered my messages?" Gojo approached you. He was close enough for you to smell the scent of Gojo's no doubt expensive perfume, but at the same time separated by an invisible barrier that protected him from everything and everyone ⸻ even you.

"The sixty-eight messages you sent when I was on a mission?" You held back the urge to roll your eyes at him, "Gojo, I have my duties as a jujutsu sorceress, I'm not available all day."

"Yeah, I know. That's why you get to spend the whole afternoon free from your ‘duties’ as a jujutsu sorceress!" Gojo said excitedly, throwing his arms up in the air.

"What? What exactly do you mean by that?"

"That you don't have to do any missions in the afternoon and evening, so you can go out with me and the brats!"

"You mean you threatened... no, no, much worse... you mean you bribed the director so I wouldn't get any more missions during the day?"

As nice as it was to spend the rest of the day not worrying about escaping death, exorcizing curses was still the only way you could afford to survive ⸻ it was your only source of income.

"Yes," Gojo said calmly.

"What are you thinking?" you looked at Gojo indignantly, "You can't just bribe the director to let me go out with you, Gojo."

"And why not?" Gojo asked genuinely.

"Because that's my job, Gojo. I'll lose a lot of money without these missions.”

"Don't worry about the money, I'll pay for it later. You're already stressed out, we don't want to see a vein burst in that pretty forehead of yours, do we?" Satoru smiled sideways and walked towards a black car, "Are you just going to stand there or are you coming?”

"What have I got myself into..." You muttered to yourself before walking over to Gojo's car and getting into the passenger seat next to him.

"Let's go get the brats, apparently Tsumiki needs some materials to do some schoolwork." Gojo started the car after putting on his seatbelt.

"What about Fushiguro?"

"I have no idea what he needs, he just said he needed something too."

"You should be kinder to him instead of teasing him, then maybe he'll tell you what he needs."

"It's no use, even if I am nice to him, he only respects you."

As you watched the scenery through the tinted window of Gojo's car, not knowing where you were really going, the most powerful Jujutsu sorcerer was sitting next to you, driving while singing along to the song on the radio. In the back seat, Tsumiki bobbed her head to the beat of the music while Megumi kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. You sympathised with Megumi's situation, even though Gojo didn't sing badly, listening to him sing non-stop for almost half an hour felt like torture.

Tired, you sighed lightly and looked for a good position on the passenger seat to lean your head back and close your eyes, imitating Megumi. However, your moment of peace was short-lived, as within a few minutes, Gojo was calling your name excitedly, saying that they had already arrived at the location.

You got out of the car a little unsure, noticed that you were in a covered car park, and wondered why you were there. If the children needed school supplies, you should have been in a stationery shop and not somewhere else.

"Here are the best shops." You overheard part of Gojo's conversation with Tsumiki while you watched Megumi standing next to you with his hands in the pockets of his uniform trousers. "Do you really want to stay behind?" Gojo turned to you and Megumi with a smile on his face.

You glanced briefly at Fushiguro, nodding in the direction of Gojo and his sister, before you both started walking. Your eyes traveled around as soon as you entered the establishment, your mind gradually clearing as you remembered the mall you had gone to with Shoko and Utahime a few months ago. It wasn't easy to forget the designer stores where a simple blouse cost more than you got for exorcizing a second grade curse. Gojo led the way to a stationery store on the second floor of the mall, and before you could enter the store, you waved for the white-haired boy to come closer while you watched Tsumiki and Megumi enter.

"Look, Gojo, I know you're the heir of the clan and that you have a lot of money, but don't you think it's too expensive to buy school supplies here? I'm sure any other stationery store will have what the kids need at a better price." You muttered.

"Ah, we're not just here for the stationery store." Gojo smiled in your direction and adjusted his glasses.

"No?" You asked confused.

"No! Now let's go, we have to buy things for the brats," Gojo said, heading in the direction of the Fushiguro siblings.

"What's his problem?" You wondered before you followed the trio into the huge store.

While Gojo helped Tsumiki choose the materials for her model, you and Megumi walked around the store looking for materials to decorate the poster the boy would make.

"What do you think about colored pencils?" You asked the boy, who just shrugged.

"Anything's fine." Megumi muttered, looking at the options of colored pens in front of him.

"Are you sure? Gojo's the one who's going to pay." You smiled sideways.

"Those over there," Megumi pointed hesitantly at a set of thirty-two colored pens.

"These?" You smiled and took the object, "If you need anything else, just ask."

"Could you... could you help me with my poster?" Megumi said and looked down at the floor with rosy cheeks.

Oh, how adorable he was.

"Of course." You smiled openly.

"Is that all you're going to take, Megumi?" Gojo appeared next to Tsumiki, holding a basket full of materials. "And these aren't even the best quality!" The white-haired man took the pens from your hand and put them back before he took a set of thirty-two pens that were almost twice as expensive as the ones Megumi had chosen earlier.

"More expensive doesn't always mean better quality."

"Trust me, Kamo-chan, this is the best brand out there!" Gojo put the set of pens in the basket. "Are you sure this is it?" He looked at the Fushiguro siblings and received a nod from Tsumiki and a blank stare from Megumi."I'll go to the cash register then!"

After buying all the materials at the stationery store, Gojo continued to guide you and the Fushiguro siblings around the place. Gojo walked through the mall as if he had been doing it for years, he seemed to know every corridor in the place. Maybe he was just used to the mall, and that wouldn't surprise you at all, since at eighteen, he was the most powerful of the Gojo clan and probably the richest as well.

"Would you do me a favor?" Gojo turned to you as you stopped in front of a boutique.

"It depends." You looked at him suspiciously.

"Could you try on some dresses for me?"

"What? Why do you want me to try on dresses for you?"

"Ah... well... you know... I have to go to a birthday party, and apparently it's rude not to bring a present for the birthday girl... you'd even believe me if I told you that you're both the same size." Gojo quickly explained, "It's just so I don't get the dress size wrong… since you're both the same size..."

"As long as it's quick, Tsumiki and Megumi have to start their schoolwork." You agreed without seeing many other possibilities than the most likely one. Not to mention the fact that you didn't want to have to deal with Gojo nagging you until he got what he wanted.

"You'll be a big help to me, Kamo-chan!"

"And don't call me that." You rolled your eyes as you entered the store with the trio.

"Tsumiki, Megumi, sit over there on the sofas, Kamo-chan and I have some hard work to do." Gojo handed the shopping bags to Tsumiki and turned to one of the shop assistants.

"Gojo-san, it is good to see you again." The woman smiled politely, "Would you like to see the pieces you asked me to separate?"

"Yes, I brought the model this time!" Gojo pointed at you with a big smile on his face.

"Then please follow me, Miss”

"What?" You looked between the attendant and Gojo without understanding anything.

"She'll take you to a fitting room," the white-haired man said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Have you been here?"

"Of course I have, I chose the dresses beforehand, I just needed an opportunity to bring you here! Now, without further ado, the sooner you try them on, the more rest time you'll have."

You gave Gojo one last uncertain look before following the saleswoman. She led you to one of the fitting rooms and asked you to wait there so she could bring you the dresses Gojo had chosen. You looked around the fitting room and noticed that it was larger than a traditional store fitting room, there was even a mini two-seater sofa in the corner.

"Here is the first dress." The woman handed you the dress before closing the door.

Holding the dress in your hand, you felt the softness of the fabric and the delicacy of the details. It was a long, one-shouldered vintage dress with fabric that graduated from dark pink to yellowish green at the edges. It had a lot of irregular embroidery along its length, along with several pink flowers, as if they were bouquets swaying in the wind. It was beautiful.

Gojo certainly had a good sense of fashion.

You took off your uniform and carefully put on the dress, afraid to ruin it. Your eyes traveled to your reflection in the huge mirror in the fitting room. The dress had fit you perfectly, as if it had been made for you.

But it wasn't for you, it was for Gojo's friend.

"You can come out when you're ready." The woman spoke from the other side.

With hands trembling slightly from the sudden, unfamiliar nervousness you were beginning to feel, you opened the dressing room door and stepped out almost in slow motion.

"Wow..." The woman in front of you said with parted lips, "You look magnificent." She held out her hand to you and you reluctantly accepted it. The attendant led you to where Gojo was sitting, now accompanied by Tsumiki and Megumi. "This is the first dress."

"Wow, Kamo-san!" Tsumiki looked in your direction with a twinkle in her eye, "You look like a princess."

"It's no big deal, Tsumiki." You smiled nervously in the girl's direction but then turned your attention to Gojo. "So, what did you think?"

"You're perf–" Gojo quickly stopped talking and scratched his throat, "That's a nice dress, but looking at it now, I don't think it's quite right for... the birthday girl. Could you try on another one?"

"Okay then." You sighed and turned around, ready to go back to the fitting room.

You sighed deeply as you received another dress from the saleswoman, this time a blue one. You felt like you were trying on several dresses of every color imaginable. They all had a different color, a different style. And there was no end to them ⸻ maybe Gojo made you try on every dress available in the store. You didn't know what number the dress you were trying on was, if it was the eighth or the fourteenth, you stopped counting after the fifth one you tried on.

But it was certainly the prettiest dress you tried on.

The dress looked more like a Vivienne Westwood wedding dress, but in a shade of blue.

And strangely enough, that blue reminded you of something you didn't seem to remember at the moment, but it certainly brought back vague memories of something.

When you came out of the fitting room, the woman serving you put her hands to her mouth, which was open in surprise.

"You look like a dream." The woman smiled happily, "You look magnificent, gorgeous, splendid, stunning...oh, I could spend all day praising your beauty in this dress, it looks like it was made just for you, and I'm not just talking about the size."

But again, the dress wasn't for you. It wasn't meant for you, so it couldn't possibly have been made for you.

"I think that was a bit of an exaggeration, but thank you."

"Gojo-san will love this, I'm sure."

"I hope..." You muttered. In fact, you were hoping that this would be the last dress to be tried on. They were all beautiful, but it seemed that none of them were to Gojo's taste ⸻ even though he had chosen all the ones you had tried on. It had been minutes, perhaps hours, since you had been there, and the constant changing of dresses had become tiresome.

You followed the attendant, taking the same route you had been taking for minutes ⸻ but which seemed like an eternity to you ⸻, to show Gojo the dresses.

"This is the last dress of your choice." The attendant said, drawing the attention of Gojo, who was teasing Megumi.

Gojo turned abruptly toward you, and at the same moment, his round sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing his bluish orbs.

So that was it... The blue of the dress resembled the blue of his eyes.

Obviously the bright, crystal blue of Gojo's eyes couldn't be replicated in a shade of fabric, but in a way they were similar.

"This is the one..." Gojo almost sighed, as if he lacked the words ⸻ or perhaps it was the air he lacked.

"This is definitely the best choice!" The attendant smiled excitedly at Gojo's choice, "We'll pack it up now so you can take it with you."

You returned to the fitting room again, this time relieved that you didn't have to try on any more clothes. You changed back into your uniform and handed the dress to the attendant before heading to the Fushiguro siblings while Gojo paid for his friend's birthday present.

"I think it's time to go home!" Gojo smiled after returning from the cashier with the dress.

Gojo drove all the way to Kyoto to drop you off at home. Megumi and Tsumiki slept in the backseat while the low sound of the radio mixed with their breathing. You had to stop yourself from turning around and looking at this extremely cute scene.

"You know, there's a spare room in my apartment..."

"I'm not moving into your apartment Gojo..." You sighed.

"I know you always refuse my offer, but you can still sleep there for just one night if you want," Gojo looked away from the road for a few seconds, "You could, I don't know, spend a night there, the brats love you, so they'd like it."

"I'll think about it..."

"Really, that would help Megumi's mood a lot." Gojo laughed softly. "Tsumiki is an angel, but it seems that the devil lives in Megumi's body and you're the only one who can tame this devil."

"I've already expressed my opinion on the matter, Gojo."

"Stop teasing and annoying Megumi and blah blah blah," Gojo said in a thin tone of voice, as if he wanted to imitate you, but in a more provocative way.

"Stop being an idiot, Gojo." A small laugh escaped your lips.

"Hey?! Did I just make the serious Kamo-chan laugh?" Gojo smiled provocatively in your direction.

"No." The seriousness returned to your face.

"Oh come on, you should smile more." Gojo tapped his fingers on the steering wheel "Or maybe that's why Megumi likes you so much, you're the same."

You looked seriously in Gojo's direction. Ah, but if looks could kill...

"Come on, that's the first time I've seen you express a genuine laugh in the three years I've known you!"

"Maybe you're just not funny enough to make me laugh."

"WHAT?!" Satoru suddenly braked the car.

"Gojo!" You said in a repressive tone. "You're going to wake up the kids like that, and you've gone crazy braking the car like that?"

"First of all, I almost drove by your apartment, and secondly, how come you don't find me funny?" Gojo turned off the car, unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned toward you.

"I just don't find it funny, there's not much explanation." You shrugged.

"Oh come on, don't be so cruel to me! You just laughed at me."

"I wasn't laughing at you!"

"Are you gaslighting me?"

"Really?" Your eye roll was enough to make Gojo smile sideways, "Look, I'm off, have a good afternoon and don't forget to give the kids some real food." You quickly got out of the car with your small backpack and looked for the key to your building.

"Kamo-chan, wait a minute," Gojo got out of the car and walked in your direction.

"What is it this time, Gojo?"

"You forgot this." He lifted the bag in his right hand, showing the store brand of the dress Gojo had bought as a gift.

"What do you mean?" You looked at him confused. "But isn't that your friend's present?"

"I lied, I don't have any friends having a birthday."

"Why did you lie?"

"I was afraid you would refuse the dress as a thank-you. Look, you've helped me a lot with all this childcare stuff, and I wanted to thank you in some way, and I thought the dress would be a good start."

"Gojo, I have no occasion to wear that dress, and not to mention it's extremely expensive, I didn't need something so expensive."

"I know you'll have a chance to use it, and you should seriously stop worrying about my money."

"It's just that..." You looked at your own reflection in Gojo's glasses and took the bag held out to you. "Thank you. The dress is beautiful."

"Of course the dress is beautiful, I chose it myself!" Gojo smiled smugly. "I think I'd better go, the brats have school tomorrow."

"Uhm, thanks again."

"It was nothing." Gojo smiled before getting back into the car.

Your hand tightened on the handle of the bag as you made your way to your apartment. When you were finally safely inside your apartment, your cheeks began to soak from the tears that kept flowing. This was the first gift you had received in years. It was the first time in years that you felt special. In that moment, you felt like the child you never had the chance to be. Maybe this was the closest you had ever felt to a normal life...

Yeah, perhaps Gojo had an admirable side beneath all that ego.

memory garden masterlist !

☆! tag list : @arminswifee . @khaleesihavilliard . @chieeeeeee . @manooffline . @shybananabagellover . @r0ckst4rjk . @sad-darksoul . @chuluoyi . @stormflysaysstuff

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cupid-styles · 7 months

Text

silk (grumpy!h)

in which harry is grumpy with everyone except y/n, and he realizes he's never been so enamored with someone in his life.

word count: 5.9k

content warnings: smut!!

author's notes: last part of grumpy h! thank you sm for all the love on this series, I love these two<3 lmk if you'd like to see any blurbs or one-shots for them!!!

part one | part two

masterlist | talk to me

From: H🌷

My friends want to meet you. Would you be willing to come out with us tonight?

Y/N reads over Harry's most recent text for the fourth time in 10 minutes. If she's being honest, the resounding answer is no, she has no desire to go out with Harry and his friends. But she also knows that they've been spending a lot of time together lately and he's been skipping out on hangouts and evenings out, so it only makes sense that his friends want to meet the girl he's constantly ditching them for.

She sighs, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, and types out an answer she wouldn't give to anyone else.

sure.. when and where?

It's only a minute or so before Harry replies. She shuts her laptop, knowing that the attention streak she has on her outline for literature theory is out the window, especially with the prospect of meeting Harry's friends in the near future.

I'll come get you and we can go to the bar together at 9:30, if that works for you. I know this is probably overwhelming for you so please don't stress, sweetheart. They're going to love you.

Her heart skips a beat. Sweetheart. That's a new development since that evening a few weeks ago, when she disclosed the story of how she lost her virginity. Since then, it seems like boundaries had carefully been crossed, but neither one of them minded. Pet names fell easily from Harry's lips. When they were together, they were almost always touching, whether it be warm cuddles on the couch or holding hands on the walk out of the English department.

Y/N doesn't know what they are — she knows that Harry has some record of dating and sleeping around, and it doesn't seem like that's what they're doing, but she can't help but fear that that's what it is. She always manages to shove those anxieties down when they're together so they don't accidentally come out in an embarrassing stream of consciousness.

okay, that works, she eventually types back, i'll try not to worry too much.. what should i wear?

Y/N has to smush her face in her pillows to avoid squealing at his answer.

Anything you would normally wear is perfect. You'll look beautiful no matter what.

. . .

Harry will never admit it out loud, but he's so excited for Y/N to finally meet his friends.

Niall, Mitch, and Pauli have been on Harry's back about constantly being out of the house and not hanging out with them. They're all quite needy, really, but they're his best friends and housemates, so he doesn't fault their curiosity. Especially because they've noticed his happier-than-usual demeanor, which says a lot, considering he usually walks around with a permanent scowl on his face.

So when he invites Y/N to come out with them tonight, he's fully expecting her to say no and he's shocked when she doesn't. He can practically feel her nerves through their text thread but he's over the moon that's pushing past her anxiety for his stupid friends. For him.

When he arrives at her place, she's overanalyzing every aspect of her outfit. It makes him smile, the way she cares so much, but he takes her concerns as seriously as he can.

"Are you sure this is good enough, H?" she asks, walking back over to the floor length mirror. She's wearing a pair of light wash mom jeans and a lacey white tank top, her makeup subtle with smudgy brown eyeliner and pink highlights.

"Baby," Harry murmurs, strolling up behind her and pressing a hand to her hip, "You look absolutely gorgeous. There's nothing to stress about."

She flushes instantly and squeezes her thighs at his touch. She spins to face him, a pout on her lips.

"I just wanna make a good impression. I don't want your friends to think you're hanging out with some—"

"Whatever you're about to call yourself, it's not true." Harry cuts her off, squeezing her hip. "Now c'mon, Niall gets testy whenever someone's late."

"Fine." Y/N grumbles, grabbing her bag and cardigan. She follows Harry out of her apartment, both of them stopping to bid Ginger a quick goodbye before locking the door and walking out to his car.

"Do you mind if I come back with you tonight?" Harry asks, intertwining their fingers together on the short trek to his sedan. "Feel like I barely saw you this week."

Y/N smiles, looking up at him as they walk. "You saw me yesterday in class and after at grading, silly."

"Yeah, but that was professional time. Couldn't hold you or anything."

She giggles as they approach his car, getting in on the passenger's side and buckling herself in. Harry does the same and starts the vehicle, reaching over to place a hand over her thigh as he pulls out of the parking spot.

"Yeah, you can sleepover tonight, H."

"Whoa, who said anything about staying over, darling? Think you're getting a bit presumptuous—"

Y/N rolls her eyes and cuts him off with a light swat to the chest, "You've stayed over tons!"

He laughs, his eyes crinkling the way that always makes Y/N's heart feel like it's about to burst.

"Just like teasing you, pretty baby."

. . .

Harry's friends are actually quite nice.

They have a clear connection, easy-going and kind, that makes it easy for Y/N to sink into without giving too much weight to her worries. When her and Harry walk in, the blonde one immediately waves them over with a huge grin and a half-full glass of Guinness in his hand.

"H! You're late!"

Harry rolls his eyes and grumbles out some insult, his palm flat against the small of Y/N's back. She wants to hide behind his towering figure to avoid being the center of attention, but he gently pushes her towards the tabletop to introduce her.

"Heathens... this is Y/N. Y/N, these are my housemates, Mitch, Niall, and Pauli," Harry announces, giving her side a small, comforting squeeze. "Be nice to her or I will put hair removal in all of your shampoos. Especially yours, Mitch."

The long-haired one — Mitch, Y/N presumes — instantly puts his hands up in defense. "Why would I be anything but nice? Niall here is the one that's five beers in."

"Shut up, I'm nothing but sweet when I'm drunk!" Niall exclaims, his voice booming over the soundtrack of other patron's conversations and some random rock station. "Hi Y/N, it's nice to meet you. Tell me, how did you manage to sweeten grumpy Harry here? He's usually so—"

"Niall," The last one, Pauli, Y/N thinks, warns, a protective arch in his eyebrow as he cuts his chatty friend off. "We're so happy you decided to join us, Y/N. It's nice to finally put a face to the name."

"Alright, you guys have caused enough chaos," Harry steers the conversation away, tugging Y/N closer to his side, "We're gonna go get drinks."

Harry knows Y/N doesn't drink very often and he doubts she'll get anything tonight, but he can feel her clamping up from the attention.

"Y'okay?" he asks, leaning down slightly to catch the shell of her ear. She shivers at the low tone of his voice, biting her lip as she looks up at him.

"Mhm. They're nice, H."

He smiles and moves his arm up to wrap around her shoulders. "I know they're a bit much. I appreciate you being here, though. Promise we won't stay too long."

"It's okay," Y/N giggles at his overprotectiveness, though her heart swoons as she tucks herself into his chest. "They're special to you and that's important."

Harry's grin only widens, showcasing his dimples and the cute eye wrinkles Y/N loves.

"You're special to me. That's why I wanted them to meet you."

Y/N doesn't know how to reply without squealing so she just blushes and buries her head into his shoulder, a warm chuckle vibrating from the depths of his chest.

. . .

"Yeah, and that's how Harry ended up having to sneak Niall out of the emergency room at 3 in the morning."

Despite Niall's already red face, his cheeks turn a deep crimson at the end of Pauli's story. Harry and his friends erupt in a series of laughs as Y/N looks up at the curly haired brunette curled around her form, his arm slung casually around her shoulders. The PDA initially made her heart thumb noisily in her chest, but she couldn't help herself as she snuggled further into his side, his scent and warmth radiating instant comfort.

"Yeah, yeah, you lot think you're so funny," Niall grumbles before lifting his pint to his mouth.

"That's 'cos we are, Ni," Harry smirks, "Anyway... it's been fun, but I think we're gonna head out."

Y/N's heart squeezes at him saying we're, like they're some sort of collective. She has to roll her lips into her mouth to stop a smile from curling onto her face.

"Ah, you guys aren't gonna come back to the house?" Pauli asks with a pout.

"Let them live," Mitch interjects, nudging Pauli's ribs, "H is happy for the first time, like, ever."

"Alright!" Harry exclaims, clapping his hands together as Y/N's lips part in surprise. Was he seriously that noticeably happy? Because of... no, it couldn't be because of her. That would be silly. "Y/N, you about ready?"

She nods and slides out of the booth behind Harry. "It was really nice to meet you all," she says with a polite smile, hugging her bag closer to her side as Harry heads up to the bar to settle his tab. "Thanks for having me."

"Oh, of course!" Niall grins. "Just make sure Harry wraps it up tonight, we all know he's been around—"

"Niall, you're cut off!" Mitch is quick to snatch the beer glass out of Niall's hand just as Y/N's face warms, insecurities suddenly brewing deep in her body. She knew of Harry's reputation, but if his friends assumed they were sleeping together already... was there something wrong with her?

Thankfully, she doesn't have to stumble over an awkward response because Harry's already reappeared, not even bothering to question why Niall's whining.

"'Kay, see you lot later. Get home safe."

He slings an arm around Y/N's shoulders and she gives a half-hearted wave as he guides them out of the crowded bar. She feels a sense of relief when the cool air hits her skin, the weather finally feeling fully autumnal as October nudges in. Harry notices her involuntary shiver and holds her closer, giving her shoulders a squeeze as they approach his car.

"You did so good tonight," he murmurs, glancing down at her proudly. "How do you feel?"

"Good." she lies, a tight smile on her face. "I can drive, you had a few drinks, hm?"

Harry nods and digs his keys out of the pocket of his jeans, handing them to Y/N. She clears her throat as she unlocks the vehicle, both of them climbing in wordlessly.

"Was it too much socialization? I can go home if you want to be by yourself."

Y/N's heart squeezes at his words as she turns the key in the ignition. It's silly to her that a month ago, she dreaded being alone with Harry and now, she can't even find it in her to be upset with him.

"No, I want you to come back with me."

Y/N is rarely assertive in her words, let alone her plans with Harry. Even when she does miss him and wants to see him, she'll send him a picture of Ginger being cute, and he'll reply with some iteration of "can I come over?"

So she swallows harshly after blurting the words out, thankfully missing the way Harry's eyes widen slightly. And he can tell that something's up — she's grasping the steering wheel tightly and won't stop chewing on her bottom lip, a nervous habit of hers that was easy to pick up on — and he mentally curses at his friends, hoping that they didn't say something idiotic to make her overthink anything.

He doesn't say anything until she's pulling into a spot outside of her apartment. As she's about to turn the car off, his hand grasps at her thigh, her eyes flying to his face. It's dark, so he can't see much of her facial expression, but he can tell by the slight crinkle in her eyebrow that she's nervous.

"What's wrong, sweet girl?" Harry asks gently, circling his thumb over her knee. "Did something happen at the bar? Did they say something?"

She shakes her head quickly, "No, of course not. They were really nice, H, I had a good time. Can we just go upstairs?"

"What's the rush?" he presses, trying to catch her low gaze. "Are you tired? Wanna go to bed?"

"Not tired," she mutters and lets out a frustrated sigh. The quiet hum of Harry's car fills the silence, but it's not enough to tear his attention away from the anxious girl in front of him. "I just... why haven't you tried to sleep with me?"

Embarrassment floods her entire body as Harry's eyebrows shoot up. Immediately, she feels ridiculous and wants to take it back.

"That was really dumb of me. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. I didn't even drink, I just—"

"Y/N," Harry says lowly, giving her knee a squeeze, "What did they say?"

"Nothing! Niall just said... well, when you were paying, he told me to make sure you, y'know, 'wrap it up' and I realized that, like, you haven't even tried to kiss me! And you call me these sweet names and we cuddle and hang out all the time and I don't know, I thought maybe you liked me but I understand I could be wrong and misinterpreting everything."

She's exasperated and Harry thinks it's adorable, but he hates that he could ever question his intentions with her. He notices that her hands are trembling and he sighs, shaking his head.

"First of all, Niall is an absolute idiot so never take anything he says seriously," he replies, taking her hands into his. He stuffs them underneath the soft fabric of his cardigan, trying to warm them up. "I... I know I have some sort of reputation on campus and you've seen me do some things I'm not proud of, but that was never the case with you. I wanted to take my time with you and go slow, especially because of your history. I like you, Y/N. So much. You didn't misinterpret anything."

She swallows nervously and if he didn't have her hands held captive in his fuzzy yellow sweater, she'd be fidgeting anxiously, picking at the her nails. Her face is far too warm for her liking, her heart jumping for joy in her chest as she replays his words over and over again. I like you. So much.

"I like you, too," she finally peeps out, clearing her throat, "I'm sorry I assumed differently. I didn't mean to be dramatic."

"Not dramatic, love. I understand why you got nervous," he murmurs, smiling gently. "Can I kiss you, then? If you like me back?"

It's overwhelming for Y/N — she feels like she's about to kiss her second grade crush, but only because of the flocks of butterflies invading her stomach, shaky hands, and an inability to croak out an answer, instead just nodding her head. Harry chuckles at that, and she's grateful for the way he's able to easily read her.

It's not the most romantic kiss Harry's ever had, but that's only because they're parked outside of Y/N's house in his car. If it weren't for the way he has to lean over the middle console to catch her lips in a lock, he would swear it's absolutely perfect.

Simultaneously, Y/N realizes that kissing Harry feels like coming home.

She's only ever felt this way when she's, quite literally, returned to her childhood home after hellish months away at college as an undergrad. The way the interior of the space always smelled like balsam and freshly baked cookies, warm lights twinkling on the Christmas tree, her mom hugging her tightly and murmuring in her ear, "it's okay, you're home now."

She tastes twinges of beer as their lips meld together, his musky vanilla cologne invading her senses and making her melt. It's all so good, like being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, drinking hot chocolate during a snowstorm, carving pumpkins while you eat those Halloween sugar cookies from childhood.

If she didn't have to break away to breathe, she thinks she could kiss Harry for an eternity.

Harry is clearly more experienced in the kissing department than she is, but he doesn't tease her for needing a break. He just smiles softly as she quietly pants with spit swollen lips, her eyes darting between his own raspberry mouth and the inviting jade of his eyes.

"You're good at that." Y/N breathes, and he chuckles, letting out his own deep breath.

"Do you wanna go inside, sweetheart?" Harry asks gently, his voice quiet, "I really wanna keep kissing you, but maybe not in my car."

"Yes, please."

He laughs louder at that, giving her thigh one more squeeze as she pulls the car key from the ignition. It's nearing midnight so it's far chillier now, goosebumps immediately forming over Y/N's arms. It's a race to her front door from there, her eagerly unlocking it and kicking her shoes off, Harry following closely behind.

Ginger is tucked into herself, snoozing steadily in the little cat bed Harry bought her a few weeks back. He'd immediately admitted that it was an impulsive purchase, claiming that he simply couldn't resist.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Y/N asks, hanging her bag and keys on the hooks in her entryway.

"'M okay," Harry mumbles, plopping down on the couch. He sheds his upper body of his cardigan and Y/N swallows as it leaves him in a plain white tee-shirt, contrasting the inky swirls on his arms beautifully. "Relax, baby. Come sit with me."

Y/N nods and walks over to him submissively, her socks padding across the plushy expanse of her carpet.

"Do you wanna sit on my lap?" he asks softly, reaching out to intertwine their fingers together. "You can say no. We're going at your speed."

"No, I do." she says quickly, not wanting him to suspect an inkling of hesitance. She'll admit, she's nervous, but it's not because she's uncomfortable. If anything, Harry is still so intimidating in this regard, and she feels like a fumbling mess in comparison.

He's gentle in his movements, guiding her body down to his and helping her straddle his waist. It's not inherently sexual, despite the fact that her thighs split readily, their cores pressed together and separated by layers of clothing.

He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady, her hands automatically finding his broad shoulders.

"Can we keep kissing?" Y/N peeps out. A lopsided grin appears on Harry's face, making her own warm.

"Course, honey. Keep kissing me."

She's anxious about the prospect of her leaning in to kiss him, worried that she's doing something wrong, but the nerves instantly melt away the second their lips reconnect. This kiss is less hesitant, a slow stream of confidence beginning to radiate from Y/N's actions. She fists his tee-shirt in her hands as she presses her chest against his, Harry's tongue gently probing her mouth. She opens readily, happy to allow him.

Harry's surprised by her sudden eagerness but welcomes it. He can feel his cock starting to plump beneath them, but he hopes she doesn't notice it as she squeezes her thighs around his waist. He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, wanting nothing more to prioritize her own wants tonight.

"Baby," Harry breathes, breaking their kiss and nudging his nose against hers, "Baby, hold on a sec, wanna talk to you."

She hums and blinks her eyes open. "'bout what?" she asks, licking over her swollen lips.

"Do you know what you want to do tonight? If anything?"

Y/N swallows. She definitely hadn't thought that far. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about sex with Harry at all, but she was so over the moon with knowing that he liked her that she couldn't think past it.

He squeezes her hip, bringing her back down and out of her thoughts. Swallowing, she parts her lips nervously before licking over them.

"I'm not really sure," she admits, adjusting out of awkwardness but accidentally brushing against Harry's cock, "I... I know I want you. Closer."

"Okay, that's a good start," he murmurs. He tries not to let his facade crack, but he's in shambles over how sweet she's being. If it were up to him, he'd devour her whole, but he has restraint — even if she's unintentionally testing them. "How close do you want to be, honey?"

"More than this."

Harry chuckles and nods, reaching up to run his hand through his hair. "You're killing me, y'know that?"

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to do anything."

"That's the problem."

His smirk makes her blush and she stares down at her hands, wringing them together in their laps. Gently, he tucks his hand underneath her chin, bringing her eyes back up to his.

"You're doing perfectly, sweetheart. I just want to make sure that we're doing everything you want. I want this to be a good experience for you."

She calms slightly at that and Harry feels her body relax. "It already is a good experience, H, it's you."

"You're too cute," he mumbles with a shake of his head, tilting his head to press featherlight kisses along her jaw, "Too fuckin' cute."

He lowers down to her neck, entirely too intoxicated by the scent of her vanilla perfume and the feel of her soft skin against his lips. He could spend the entire night planting kisses across every inch of her body, he thinks, but he knows they'd both be too needy to let him finish that ask.

"Inside," Y/N suddenly breathes out, a gasp falling from pillowy lips as he nips as a sensitive spot, "Want you inside, please."

"Fingers?" Harry guesses, suckling gently to create the faintest of marks.

"No, no. You."

Harry's eyes snap open at her admittance, blinking owlishly as he processes her request. Did she... was she asking—

"Please, Harry, I— I know you want to take it slow but it's been months and I want it, I'm sure of it, please—"

He hushes her with a firm kiss to the lips. Her trembling hands reach up to fist at his messy curls and he can feel her getting progressively more desperate, pink-hued smoke clouding her typically shy demeanor.

"It's okay, baby, I got you," he murmurs against her mouth, squeezing at her hip. "I'll take care of you, alright? If that's what you really want."

"I do, H, please."

Harry can't take a second more of her pleading and he thinks if he denied her again, she'd be down at her knees groveling. (He has to quickly push that image out of his brain, knowing it'll only send him further into a tizzy.) She mumbles out consent as he plucks at the button of her jeans, nudging her to sit up so he can pull the denim down her legs. He tries not to groan at the sight of a tiniest wet patch seeping through the fabric of her light blue underwear but fails miserably, pressing his forehead to her clavicle in frustration.

"What's wrong?" Y/N asks, pausing their haphazard movements to take in his facial expression.

"You're gonna kill me," he repeats his sentiment from earlier, "You're just fucking adorable and hot without even realizing it and it's taking everything in me not to completely ruin you."

Harry glances up at her to see her rounded eyes and plushy lips, gasps parting from the muted pink hue of her mouth.

"What if I want you to ruin me?"

He shakes his head and tightens his squeeze on her hips. He lays her back down against the couch and spreads her legs, kneeling to thumb at the dampened patch between her thighs.

"You need to shut up. You don't know what you're asking for, Y/N."

"Tell me then," she eggs him on, squirming as he begins to draw small circles into her covered clit, "You've always taken care of me, why would this be any different?"

"Because you're different," he mutters tightly, his large hands finding the expanse of her ribs and pushing her shirt upwards to reveal her lacy bralette, "I don't want to treat you like any other person I've been with. You don't deserve that."

She whimpers when he bucks up against her lower half, his jean-covered bulge nudging at the place she needs him most.

"Show me what I deserve, then. Please."

"That," Harry says, undoing his pants and tossing them off to the side, "I can absolutely do."

It's a mess of kisses and touching from then, eager to feel one another without any additional clothing in the way. She's naturally submissive, Harry finds, but he's not surprised at that in the slightest. He'd assumed that from the first day they met, though he'd never imagined that he would be the one nipping at her skin, licking and sucking her nipples, and pressing kisses down her stomach and over her mound, taking his time to inhale her sweet scent.

Y/N's all but gagging for it now but he refuses to go any further without stretching her out, knowing that it's been five years since she's last slept with someone. She's wet — dripping, really, from her pulsating hole down to her ass, and he wants to press his tongue flat against her lips, suckling every last bit up, but he's a man on a mission. Plus, he knows he'll cum on the spot the second he wiggles his tongue inside, and that's not part of tonight's plan.

Instead, he's able to fit three fingers inside of her, but it admittedly takes a lengthy amount of pumping, scissoring, and pressing up against the spongy spot inside of her that makes her moan especially loud. She's squeezing his fingers so tightly, her hole contracting every time he uses his thumb and swipe over her clit.

"You— please, Harry, I'm ready, I can't— can't take anymore."

He looks up to see the prettiest, most desperate looking angel with baby hairs matted to her forehead, her chest warm and splotchy. Beads of sweat are dripping down her thighs and her mascara has smudged below her lower lash line, making her look beyond fucked out.

"Okay," Harry nods, withdrawing his fingers carefully, "Okay, baby. Lemme just grab a condom."

He probably looks ridiculous as he scurries over to his pants to grab his wallet, digging to grab the condom he'd stuffed in there the day after he decided he really liked Y/N. She doesn't say anything as he peels his briefs down, revealing his painfully hard cock slapping up against his lower stomach, pre-cum beading at the slit.

He rolls the condom on and shuffles between her thighs, pumping himself a few times to relieve just some of the pressure. Their eyes are glued to one another's in an intense, lusty stare-off.

"You're sure, lovie?" Harry asks, massaging her inner thighs carefully, "You can change your mind at any time. Even if I put it in and it hurts, you can tell me."

"I trust you," she replies softly, her throat already sore from nearly a half an hour of teasing. "I know it's gonna hurt a little... but you'll get me through it, right?"

His heart breaks a bit at her need for reassurance, nodding his head quickly. He adores this sweet girl beneath him, nothing meaning more to him than her implicit trust in his care.

"Of course I will. Just keep communicating with me, okay?"

She nods and he shuffles up to her core, stroking his cock twice more before stretching his body over her. He presses a kiss to her forehead, then down to her nose, and finally to her lips.

"I'm gonna start putting it in."

It's... a stretch, a big one at that. Y/N initially winces at the pain and Harry's head snaps up, halting his movements, but she shakes her head quickly, encouraging him to continue. He slows down, slowly moving centimeter by centimeter until her breathing starts to even out. When he finally bottoms out, she feels like she's absolutely stuffed to the brim, but in the best way possible.

"Are you alright, honey?" Harry asks quietly, leaning up to brush a few hairs out of her eyes.

"Yes," Y/N murmurs, swallowing harshly, "I... I feel like you've always been meant to be here, H."

His eyes well up slightly, not only because it's the sweetest thing she could've possibly said in this moment, but because he feels that way, too. He's never felt such a connection with someone before on both a physical and emotional level and he knows right then and there, Y/N is the person that's meant to be his.

"You're incredible," he says, beginning slow, shallow thrusts, "You're everything I could've ever wanted, Y/N. This is... you're perfect."

"Oh," Y/N breathes when Harry's hips snap up against hers, the tip of his cock pressing against the spongey spot deep inside of her, "That's... you're so deep."

He groans at her widened eyes, shutting his own to prevent himself from bursting early just from her cute reactions. She feels better than he ever could have imagined the many times he fucked his fist, thinking of how warm and sweet she'd be beneath him.

"Faster, please," she mewls, her jaw falling slack at his continued assault on her g-spot.

"Yeah? Need me to go faster, honey?"

She nods vehemently and he smiles gently, beginning to quicken his pace. She loves the way he's hovering over her, closer than they've ever been before, invading all of her senses. She hooks her ankles around his waist and he groans at the small sign of initiative.

"Can I make you cum on my cock, sweetheart?" Harry asks through a tight jaw, feeling his balls start to tighten as they bump up against her ass.

"P-please," she nods, her hair a mess from Harry thrusting her into the mess of throw pillows on her couch. She's made herself finish tons of times before, but only with her own fingers and the occasional smutty book as inspiration. With Harry in her life, she'll admit that she's been hornier than ever before, always finding a sodden mess in her underwear after hanging out together. (It even happens when they spend time grading in Donnolly's office when she watches his jaw flex, gum between his teeth. The thought is enough to make her shudder.)

But with Harry finally stroking at the spots inside of her that had been neglected for years, it doesn't take much to get close to her peak. She's never felt so full before, and it's making her pussy squeeze over him in steady pulses, eliciting a grunt deep from Harry's chest.

"Can you rub your little clit for me?" Harry asks, leaning back on his heels to watch himself pump in and out of her hole. "Jus' need to see the way you touch yourself, baby... know you do, hm? My girl has a naughty side, doesn't she?"

Y/N nods her head, trailing her fingertips down the length of her body and to the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs. She moans loudly as she applies a bit of pressure, pinching at it. Harry's eyes are immediately glued to her fingertips, pausing his movements momentarily to spit, landing squarely on her clit.

"Oh god," she moans, partially from shock at his boldness. She rubs his saliva in, circling the nub it small, tight circles.

"That's my girl," Harry repeats, his hands finding the back of her thighs to spread her legs a bit further apart, "So good, baby, so fuckin' good for me."

"H-harry, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum—"

He grunts as he feels her hole contracting around his cock, gushes of arousal seeping out between them.

"There you go," Harry encourages, slamming into her, watching her eyes squeeze shut and shudders coil through her body. Her fingers tremble around her clit as she orgasms violently around him, squeezing so tightly that he nearly slips out.

The image of her coming below him after imagining it for so long is enough to send him into his own orgasm. He spurts warm and hot ropes into the condom, filling it up so much that as the intensity begins to wear off, he worries that some of it will seep out from the rubber confides. He pulls out just to the tip to make sure, his cock still twitching in aftershocks.

"S-slow, please," Y/N stutters and he nods, shushing her softly.

"I know baby, I'm sorry, just gotta make sure we're all... cleaned up down here."

He'd filled the condom nearly to the brim, but thankfully, it's not enough to ooze out. He takes gentle fingertips to the insides of her thighs, where her legs meet her core, softly running them up and down as he fully withdraws.

"I'll be right back, honey. Just stay here, 'kay?"

She mumbles out some affirmative answer and he chuckles, stumbling to her bathroom to toss the condom and clean himself up. He wets a washcloth and walks back out to the living room, Y/N's body still strewn across the length of her couch. He kneels down to face her swollen pussy, swallowing at the sight, ignoring the urge to continue playing with her. He knows she's exhausted based on her silence and wouldn't be able to take a second longer of stimulation. Instead, he gingerly cleans her up with the warm cloth.

"Do you feel okay?" Harry asks softly as he rises back up to his feet, grabbing his briefs and slipping them back on, "Was all of that alright?"

With tired eyes, Y/N smiles gently, nodding once. "It was perfect, Harry."

. . .

From: H🌷

Running late to class this morning, they made your latte with almond milk instead of oat

To: H🌷

h!! u didn't have to have them remake it, that would've been fine!

From: H🌷

You never get almond milk and you would've never even told me if you didn't like it. I can afford to be a few minutes late if it means you're happy.

Also, may or may not have bought Ginger another toy at the grocery store on my way home from yours last night.

Sitting in her usual seat at the front of the lecture hall, Y/N has to roll her lips into her mouth to avoid a massive grin from breaking out onto her face. She busies herself with scribbling notes in her planner as she waits for Donnolly to begin class, her nose stuck in her calendar as Harry enters the room with just a minute to spare.

She's admiring her new collection of sparkly gel pens when he plops down next to her, pushing her iced latte towards her.

"Morning." he greets with a grin, leaning down to press a kiss to her hair.

"H," Y/N whines with a blush, biting her lip at the small display of affection.

"Shush, I know."

She giggles as she takes a sip of her coffee, the familiar taste of vanilla and espresso coating her tongue.

"Thank you, by the way. I appreciate that you do this for me."

"'course, baby," Harry smiles, leaning back in his chair with his cup of black coffee. "Missed you."

"You saw me last night, silly."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't let me sleep over so you could do homework." he teases lightly, tucking his black sunglasses into the collar of his tee-shirt.

"Mhmm, but since you let me get that done, you can stay over tonight."

"Thank god."

She laughs and shakes her head at his dramatics as Donnolly claps her hands together, her signature announcement that class was beginning. Y/N glances over to the curly haired brunette next to her, who playfully widens his eyes at her. Again, she has to bite her lip to prevent herself from grinning even more.

She's not sure when her fellow TA, a grumpy, mean boy who only wears black became the best thing in her life, but she couldn't be happier that it happened.

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