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dc418writes · 2 years

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•|Gratuity (3)|•

✨Pairing✨: mob!Ari LevinsonxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: You find out what exactly Ari had in mind for that perfect date

⚠️: insinuations to naked hugs, fluff mixed throughout, mention of death, cheating (?…you’ll see)

A/N🎙: Hey guys! For those interested this is the next chapter of my little series☺️ (well one of them lol). I feel like my last chapter sucked and wasn’t really interesting so I hope you like this one! Also I’m gonna go ahead and apologize now because I know this one’s long (possibly the longest I’ve written yet😬) and because I write on mobile I’m not able to add the Read More line.

It had been a week exact from being invited to Ari’s party, and you had yet to hear from him again.

No text. No call. He hadn’t even come for his morning usual.

Unfolding the white tablecloth and sliding it along the square dark wood before setting it with the recently cleaned dishes, your mind wanders through every detail of that night as it had many times before. Ari gave you a tour of the immaculate mansion, privately getting to know you with every step down a dim hall. Of the few pictures that were hung, one particular showing Ari as a little boy sitting in his uncle’s lap mid laugh prompted stories from both of your childhoods making you fall even more for the bachelor.

He never personally knew his father who left while his mother was only halfway through her pregnancy. Knowing she’d have a difficult time caring for a child by herself, Ari’s uncle moved both of them in with him, his wife, and their full help staff. She insisted on working until she could save up enough to stand on her own, even though his uncle didn’t mind them staying for as long as she wanted. They were family, and they were both raised to do whatever they could for their blood.

Three years later, and she was close to the goal she’d set for herself. A steady job that paid well and feeling comfortable enough that she could care for little Ari by herself. However, a car accident extended his stay with his uncle indefinitely, killing his mother on impact when a drunk driver decided to speed on the wrong side of the road.

Being so young of course he couldn’t really remember a lot of his mother, but you could see the hurt in his eyes looking over the lone picture of her sitting on a blanket in the grass. Her hand comfortably on her extended abdomen as she smiled at the camera.

“This probably sounds strange, but there’s times I miss her as if I knew every little thing about her. Or was able to watch her grow old,” he speaks in a hushed whisper. Soft blue eyes finally meeting yours when you held his hand.

“It’s not strange at all. I’m no expert or anything, but I feel like you’re also missing what could have been, which can live in your head and make the pain even worse.”

Maybe his absence was due to regret of sharing so much of himself so early. That things were moving too fast for his liking with a girl that may not spark his interest anymore.

“Y/N, mind helping me with some boxes in the back?,” your manager asks just as you’ve finished setting your last table.

“Yea sure,” you answer following behind. Silently thankful for the welcomed distraction of her small talk.

———

The aroma of pan seared steak mixed with a pasta or soup of some sort is quick to settle along the walls of his nostrils shortly after entering the busier restaurant. It was a stark contrast to the usual smell of coffee and pastries he’d encounter all those mornings sitting in his booth waiting for your angelic glow, but it was still welcomed from the light grumble of his stomach. Beige turtleneck over his fitted, dark brown slacks and caramel dress shoes, he’s a slave to routine striding towards his empty booth immediately picking up the menu now displaying their lunch and dinner options.

“And what can I get for you handsome?”

A very appreciated compliment, but definitely not from the voice he expected—or wanted it to come from.

Sleek, black hair in a high ponytail, her hazel eyes seemed to drink in his muscular frame and sharp features as she stood tapping a pen against her cherry painted lips. Judging from the sensual smirk, she was clearly enjoying the man in front of her.

“Um I actually need more time if you don’t mind,” he politely smiled.

“Sure thing. I’ll be back in a few.” Ari could feel himself deflate at the possibility of you not being in today. Not seeing your warm smile or the cute way you’d get distracted telling a story. Midway through a totally different yet connected tale before shyly apologizing.

He never did mind though, addicted to the sweet sound of your voice.

The quick flash of movement in his peripheral has his joy restored turning to see you behind the bar wiping out various kinds of glasses. Making sure his previous waitress wasn’t walking towards the table, his legs and brain were on a faster accord carrying him to the vacant bar.

“You can’t change up on me like that angel,” he speaks slightly making you jump. “Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Seeing your eyes brighten and you become flustered, almost knocking over the glass beside you has the sweetest smile gracing his pink lips, and heart warming his entire chest more than any cup of coffee could.

“Ari! Um, I-I mean hi.” What kind of magic did this man hold to make you act like this?

“So, they moved you back here?,” he asks folding his arms on the glossy wood. His biceps and pecs bulging against the cotton sweater nearly have you losing your train of thought.

“No, just covering for someone today. Tomorrow I’ll be back to my usual section.”

“Good to know.”

“I was wondering where you ran off to so quick,” Ari’s waitress, Rosalyn from her name tag, smiles at the brunette before turning her attention to you. “If I didn’t know any better, it looks like you were trying to steal my customer Y/N.”

“Actually Y/N is an old friend of mine. I just came to visit her really,” he winks at you before reaching in his wallet removing a crisp $50 bill appearing as if it was just printed minutes ago. “For your trouble though.”

Of course she was happy to receive a big tip, but the fact that quite possibly the most handsome customer she’d seen yet was occupied with someone else made her smile falter meeting your eyes. “Thank you sir.”

“You know Rosalyn’s a great waitress. She could’ve helped you,” you state once she moved back to her—well your usual section.

“I’m sure she is, but once I get used to someone I like to stick with them.” You were at a loss for words not knowing whether it was a compliment or just a simple statement. The sultry look in his eyes along with the natural and effortless lick of his lips though, tells you it might be the former of the two.

“Oh, um that’s-,” you can’t even formulate a sentence with your brain trying to keep your body upright on your weak knees. Taking a break from his intense yet soft eyes, you notice the red scrapes and light blue bruises along the knuckles of his right hand immediately twisting your face into concern. “What happened?”

“Just me being accident prone,” he chuckles now hiding his hand in his lap. “I was moving some furniture and scraped it against the wall.”

“But, the bruises-,”

“I’m fine angel. Honest,” he smiles. “I do need your help with something though.”

“O-Okay, what is it?”

“I was invited to the ballet tomorrow, but I really don’t want to go by myself. Was wondering if you might be interested in joining me?” Of course you were. You’d immediately say yes if it weren’t for you remembering you hadn’t heard or spoken to him in a week, thoroughly confusing you about Mr. Levinson.

Your mouth opens once, then twice before his larger hand covers yours on the hardwood. It’s warm. Equal parts rough and soft, and you miss how it felt against your side the night of the party.

“Hey, talk to me,” he states. “If you don’t want to go-,”

“No I do. I just…I haven’t heard from you in a while and thought…well, maybe-,”

“That I wasn’t interested? Trust me when I say I still am angel. I’ve just been so busy setting up the new office and work, I barely have time to piss.” Great, now you look like the crazy girlfriend that always jumps to conclusions. And you weren’t even a girlfriend.

“I’m sorry. You were just working and I’m over here panicked it was me, or something happened. I-I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No don’t apologize.” His easy smile radiates all around you along with his charm. How does he do that? “I wanted to call or text, but life got in the way. I assure you though I will make that time up to you.”

“You don’t have to do that. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me, and I know I don’t have to. I want to. That is, if you’ll let me.” Feeling the soft hairs of his beard prickle your knuckles and warm lips meet your skin has a barely audible gasp escaping you. However from his short chuckle, Ari still managed to hear it.

Clearing your throat, you try to compose yourself as he slowly lets your hand slip from his gentle hold. “Okay, I’ll be there. W-With you that is. I’d like to go with you Ari.”

“It’s a date then.”

———

“Aww look at you Miss Cinderella! All you’re missing is your crown.”

Backing up just enough that your full body came into view of your upright phone screen, you can’t help the giddy smile as you twirl making the metallic blue, a-line dress shimmer and flow along your legs. Luckily, your bridesmaid dress from your brother’s wedding still fit after two years.

“I think the crown might be too much Ty,” you giggle spritzing yourself with your usual vanilla perfume. “I honestly feel like this dress is a bit much too.”

“Trust me, it’s not. Pretty much everyone there is gonna be dressed in their designer gowns and suits, I’ve gone enough times.”

“I just don’t wanna be overdressed.”

“Y/N, you look great and Mr. GQ isn’t gonna be able to control himself once he sees all that thigh,” she winks making you laugh. This is why you wished she was able to physically be there with you. To help calm your anxious nerves and deter your thoughts to things more lighthearted so you wouldn’t get so in your head you’d cancel.

“Tyla, what if-,”

“No! No what ifs,” she points at her screen taking a break from her computer and whatever she was typing. “Be present and try not to constantly be thinking about if you’re doing something wrong. It’s a date, have fun.”

Before you can answer, two short knocks on your door have your mouth dry and heart nearly bounding out of your chest knowing who was there. “Coming! That’s him, I gotta go.”

“Ok, call or text when you get home. And remember what I said!”

“I’ll try,” you sigh saying your short goodbyes after. With one last look in the mirror, you take a deep breath trying to calm your nerves and racing heart. You couldn’t let Ari see you nearly on the brink of hyperventilating, thus marking the start of a terrible night.

“Sorry, I was-,” you start, door open just enough that your words became lodged in your throat taking in the man in front of you. Hair slicked back and beard appearing freshly lined and trimmed, you mentally groan that he always seemed to have this effect on you. Black, velvet blazer over his black long sleeve, black slacks, and matching dress shoes, the gold medallion hanging around his neck brought even more attention to his broad chest.

“How do you manage to leave me breathless every time I see you angel?” Standing under his gaze roaming up and down your body has you feeling even more shy, shifting from one leg to the other.

“I really should be asking you,” your mouth speaks before your brain can stop it. The way your eyes shut and head taps the side of the wooden door embarrassed your words couldn’t stay in your head as planned makes a low chuckle escape his pink lips, and finger gently tilt under your chin to face him.

“You’re too cute you know that?”

He loved how adorable you were. From the way your fingers fiddled with your necklace when you were nervous to how you’d dip your head when you fumbled over your words accidentally talking to fast, he ate it up every time.

And little did you know, it brought a soft smile to his face whenever he needed it throughout the day.

“Ready to go?,” he asks offering a bent arm to escort you to his waiting car. You’re not surprised to see he owned the newest Audi A4 that reflected the overhead lights of the garage against its matte black exterior. If it were dark enough and you weren’t careful, you might miss it from it being camouflaged to it’s surroundings.

Ever the gentleman, Ari opens your door before smoothly walking to the other side and getting in himself. Him checking to see that you’re settled and comfortable before driving off has a giddy smile forming on your lips and a flock of seagulls in your stomach.

The way his hand grips the steering wheel and watch shines on his wrist with every turn doesn’t help ease that feeling. And the soft “may I?,” as his other hand rests palm up just below the radio waiting for yours definitely doesn’t help the new heat rising. You were glad the eye contact was at a minimum as you both talked, or else you’d surely be a mess from nervous sweats.

“I honestly didn’t peg you as a ballet or theater guy,” you speak once stopped at a red light. The short peek of his gleaming teeth from his amused grin leaving you weak and happy you were already sitting down.

“Why’s that? I don’t look sophisticated enough?”

“No! No, I guess because you always seem to be on the go I figured sitting down to a show wouldn’t be your first choice for a night of fun.” There’s that deep chuckle again accompanied by the light squeeze of your hand in his.

“I’ll admit it’s not my first choice, but it definitely isn’t my last.” Naturally, you were intrigued and wanted to know more.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” you smile briefly meeting his eyes before his attention was back on the busy street. He loved how you were visibly becoming more comfortable around him, giving glimpses to the side of you kept hidden away.

“…my first choice, going to a game.”

“Figures,” you thought gently nodding your head.

“My last would be skydiving.”

“Afraid of heights?”

“No, I just don’t like the idea of jumping out of a plane and trusting a flimsy piece of fabric.” A very understandable concern to have. “Your turn.”

“Okay, um first choice…watching the sunset in the park. Last is going on a cruise.”

“Hm, first time I think I’ve heard someone not like cruises. Bad experience?”

“No, I’ve uh never been. The rooms seem small and I don’t like tight spaces.” From his peripheral, he can see you uncomfortably shift, although subtle, in your seat making him graze his thumb over the back of your hand after giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”

“Don’t be. I mean you told me yours, it’s only right I tell you mine.”

“You don’t have to angel, you don’t owe me anything.” Finally parked and waiting for the valet, he’s able to fully gaze at you. The golden lights built into the hanging overhead of the building shining through the tinted window enough to enhance your already light glow.

“I know, but I want to,” you softly smile. “I was in kindergarten and we were playing hide and seek in the gym. There were these cubby like lockers off to the side so I hid there. A few seconds after, someone slid something in front of the door not knowing I was there, and no matter how much I tried I couldn’t get it open. I wanted to scream but I was hyperventilating so bad, all I could do was cry. The teacher told my parents it was only five minutes, but it felt like an hour until anyone found me thus embarrassingly leading to my claustrophobia.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed, and I’m happy you felt comfortable enough with me to tell me that.”

With his free hand, he comfortably grips your chin feeling entranced by your deep brown orbs and desperately wanting to feel your rose lips against his since you opened the door looking like the goddess you were. The flicker of your eyes from his to his lips and back as you lean forward has him following your lead, nearly an inch away before a knock on his window makes a frustrated stream of air escape his nostrils.

“Sorry for the wait sir. Would you still like your car parked?,” the young, lanky looking valet asks immediately after Ari lowers his window. Giving him his keys and opening your door, your hand returns to its new home in his as you’re escorted along red, velvet like carpet lining the entire floor of the theatre’s lobby. Tyla was right about the expensive gowns and suits. Everyone around you looked regal or as if they’d walked straight off a fashion week runway to the historic building. And although you were dressed similar, you still felt inadequate, like you were a cat trying to masquerade as a dog.

“Ari, Miss Y/N,” a mystery man greets standing in front of you both. Hands clasped in front of his body, his larger and slightly huskier frame towered over you but was about equal height to Ari. His piercing green eyes made it impossible to look away from their beauty and the intensity of their nearly clear color. Your mind began to wonder how this person could know you when you’ve never met him before until the slight turn of his neck showed the intricate ink along his skin more clearly.

You recognized that dragon tattoo from the party. He was one of the stoic looming figures outside the room Ari and his uncle were meeting in. Needing the restroom, you walked through the common area briefly making eye contact before scurrying on your way. You spoke saying a soft hello, but apparently he didn’t hear. He simply stood similar to how he was now but definitely more intimidating.

“Y/N, this is Leo. He’s my personal assistant,” Ari introduces as you shyly raise your hand in a quick wave. “Everything good?”

“Yea, also saw Monroe a few minutes ago. He said he’d be seated near the front.”

“I’ll have to give him a visit during intermission then,” he smiles beginning his strides towards a more secluded set of escalators and stairs.

“Are we not sitting out there?,” you ask a bit confused as you’re both followed by Leo.

“No, our section’s a bit higher but I think you’ll like it.”

Overlooking the entire theater, the velvet lined box seat with velvet and gold chairs made you feel like the Queen of England looking down at her subjects. Now that you were seated you were honestly glad to be in your own box. There was no one blocking your view or continuously talking, seemingly knowing nothing about whispering as if they wanted to be heard over the actors. Why couldn’t movie theaters have seats like this?

“You like it?,” Ari asks, crystalline like eyes hopeful of your answer.

“I love it, it’s the perfect view,” you softly smile. Mentally swooning over the single dimple near the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome angel.”

The lights dimmed around you signaling the beginning of the first act and the murmuring around the room to cease. Neither of you had heard of this production, but it seemed to be a retelling of Romeo and Juliet from the details of the program found in your seats. As the first ballerina graced the stage, you were drawn in following every movement and additional dancer that gracefully spun and glided across the floor.

And although beautiful, Ari couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

How the soft smile had yet to leave your face as the act progressed. How your emotions also changed with the orchestra pieces, becoming concerned when the bass of the cellos became heavier, and then giggling along with the bouncier notes as the two lovers playfully danced around each other. How the glow of the stage lights brought more attention to your curled lashes and how they occasionally fluttered along your soft cheeks.

No one could convince him you weren’t an angel or some ethereal being. He’d collected too much evidence to prove them otherwise.

A light tap to his arm has his smile faltering, turning to see Leo motioning forward with his head. Up ahead trying to stealth-fully leave his seat while not distracting others from the show, was Monroe.

“Should I track him down?”

“No, he’s not rushing or panicked so I doubt he’s leaving. Plus looks like he has a date who didn’t go with him. He’ll be back.”

“Want me to collect for you?”

“Nah, this is a message I need to get across myself.” Turning back towards you, his soft smile returns seeing that you were still focused on stage. He hated to leave you even for a minute, but business called.

“Angel,” he whispers leaning close to your ear and lightly caressing your arm. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh um okay. I-Is everything fine?”

“Yea just need the restroom. You keep enjoying yourself though, let me know what I miss.” With a wink, he was shrugging off his blazer and whispering something to Leo before he disappeared through the door while the burly man sat in his seat.

“I always did love the ballet,” Leo whispers leaning towards you, eyes locked forward and you thoroughly surprised to hear such a statement easily spill from his mouth.

———

“Ari please I can explain.”

“What more is there to explain Monroe? I see you here with your lovely date, nearly front row I might add, and wearing-what is…wow a Calvin Klein suit,” the brunette chuckles pushing his sleeves up as he slowly stalks closer to the trembling man. “Now we both know you can’t afford this on top of the three grand you owe so that leads me to believe that you’ve been holdin’ out on us.”

“No! Nonono t-that’s not what happened,” he nervously stutters.

“Oh I hope not. You know, I’d hate to have to deal with you myself…or worse, get uncle involved and you know he’s not as understanding as I am.”

“Just hear me out, please I-I got the money it’s just at home in the safe,” he nervously smiles. Beads of sweat forming on his pale forehead. “I-I finally hit big at the casino and set aside what I owed so I could pay you the first chance I got.”

“Monroe I swear if you’re lying-,”

“I’m not I promise! On my dog Fiona’s life I got it. You can even come by if you want and pick it up yourself.”

He narrows his eyes trying to gauge if the man in front of him was lying or not. Head slightly tilting as he slowly took Monroe in with arms crossed in front of his thick chest. “Alright, how about you drop it off tomorrow, not a minute later than 12 or I promise I’ll find you.”

“You got it. 12, no later I swear.”

His stern features turn softer clapping Monroe on the shoulder and giving it a squeeze firm enough to serve as a reminder for who was in charge.

Quite frankly, he didn’t know what he was more afraid of. Ari himself, and the reputation that hung overhead haunting everyone who threatened to disrespect or go against him, or how easily he seemed to be able to switch from that persona to someone you’d go as far to believe was your friend.

From the group of men that entered the restroom soon after, and those waiting outside, both knew intermission had begun.

“Hope you enjoy the rest of your night. I’ll be seeing you,” Ari smiles over his shoulder, unnoticed by everyone else but making Monroe’s blood run cold.

The private escalator had Ari returning to his section quicker than those on the main floor trying to maneuver through the crowds of people needing the restroom or just stretching their legs. His eyes immediately lighting and prior business forgotten at the sight of you and Leo talking.

“Now Leo, I don’t have to worry about you do I?,” he jokes as his right hand man rises from his seat.

“Course not boss,” he chuckles stepping close so he’s able to whisper. “Everything went okay?”

“Yea, fine. May need you to handle something if we don’t see our friend at 12 tomorrow though.”

“Just say the word.”

“So, what’d I miss angel?” Reclaiming his chair, his arm drapes across your bare shoulders. Warm fingertips gingerly grazing against the cool skin of your upper arm making you shiver.

“Um Mercutio and Tybalt died. Romeo and Juliet got married and spent the night together,” you answer as he gently nods listening to your words. “If there’s something you have to do for work, we can leave. I understand.”

His larger hand slides along the back of your neck with fingers resting at your nape causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Thumb gliding along your jaw line, it’s hard to ignore the little shocks his touch leaves behind. Just like the night of his party, all your focus seems to shift to those spots he formerly occupied wishing his touch never had to leave.

From his touches to the mint lightly fanning your lips, it felt like your senses were in overdrive making you overwhelmed in the best way.

“Tonight, nothing is more important than being with you. Making up for lost time remember?”

You slowly nod, fingertips moving on their own to lightly stroke his beard as you lean in needing to see if his lips really were as soft as they looked. The low sneeze from Leo sitting against the wall reminds you you’re not alone, and although just inches from finding your answer, you reluctantly drop your head suddenly more focused on the plush carpet trying to regain your normal heartbeat.

Ari’s soft kiss to your temple has you smiling as the lights dim once again for the start of the second half of the show. Part of you began thinking you might as well leave now. With his hand on your thigh and mind dizzy, there was no way you’d be able to pay attention.

———

The cedarwood left on his pillow, and partially yours, is the first thing you notice once you’re brought out of your deep slumber. Next is the ache roaming over your body reminding you of just a few hours prior and pulling a tired smile from your lips.

After the ballet, Ari treated you to dinner at a rooftop restaurant overlooking the lapping, shallow waves of the bay that easily reflected the twinkling night sky with no high rise buildings or skyscrapers to block them. Bellies filled with gourmet food and a couple glasses of champagne, he offered to drive you home at the sight of your small yawn, but you weren’t ready to leave him though, mentally wishing that time would slow down so you could have longer with him.

“What?,” he asked, a touch amused noticing the ever slight pout of your lips.

“I…I don’t want to leave you yet,” you state peering down at both of your intertwined fingers resting on your lap. You might’ve had a bit of liquid courage from the bubbly coursing through your system, but your nerves still remained from your hushed tone. Grinning to himself, he tilts your chin to look at him with thumb grazing teasingly close to your bottom lip.

“What do you want to do then?”

Moments later, you were in his penthouse apartment both sat on his dark grey sectional sharing more about yourselves under the warm glow of the mini chandelier dangling overhead. Light touches began to linger longer over skin, and innocent pecks eventually turned hungrier until neither of you could hold back anymore. Your lips are still connected, and legs wrapped around his hips, when your back gently thuds against the cloud-like throw lying across the foot of his king sized bed. Clearly it wasn’t a regular king from how small it made you feel.

Or was that Ari’s doing from his arms being planted on either side of your head seemingly towering over you?

“Y/N are you sure?,” he asked taking a moment to catch his breath. You thought you could show better than you could tell sliding your hands from around his neck to the metal buckle pressing into your abdomen, but his hands moved quicker pinning yours above your head. The whimper that emitted from your throat definitely caught you off guard, but you’d have plenty of time later to feel embarrassed about that.

“As much as I love that little pout, I need you to know I want you to use your words with me angel.” His voice lowered to another octave and face so close to yours yet out of reach nearly made you convulse. “I’ll give you anything you want, but you have to say it.”

“Y-Yes I’m sure. I want you Ari.”

The soft smile he flashed before tasting your lips again quickly had your heart melting, along with other places.

He was so attentive, committing every whine, whimper, moan, and squirm to memory trying to make sure you were taken care of. And from how relaxed you currently felt, you’d say he achieved his goal.

Whoever was lucky enough to stroll into your life after Mr. Levinson definitely had some competition.

Realizing how quiet it was, you slowly rise clutching the white sheet to your bare chest wondering where Ari could be. His side of the bed wasn’t made and both of your clothes were still strewn across the floor, which you hoped was a sign he was still here. You gently pad along the short fibers of the cream carpet kneeling to get your intimates and dress, lying it at the foot of the bed. In an attempt to conceal yourself, you carefully pulled his white tank over your head although you were sure Ari wouldn’t mind you walking around half naked.

Daylight shining bright through the floor to ceiling windows, you’re able to observe a bit more of the penthouse apartment than you could last night. The stainless steel appliances in the pristine kitchen that looked as if it was hardly used. The two extra doors you assumed led to guest rooms. How he seemed to be planted right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the city peering down at the crowded street filled with cars and people rushing from corner to corner. You feel those butterflies again and smile form on your lips at his tattooed back sitting on the balcony enjoying the mid-morning air with phone pressed to his ear.

“Probably business,” you thought stepping towards the cracked door. You only meant to let him know you were about to leave, but his words had you frozen in place focused on this private conversation.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t call last night I was tied up with some things.”

More like someone.

“How’s princess? Good, that’s good. No, I uh can’t really talk this morning but tell her I’ll call later.”

The way he peered down at his feet, free hand keeping his hair out of his eyes as he lowly spoke made him appear guilty, which didn’t help your new impending thoughts.

“Yea I’ll be back in time for the recital, I wouldn’t miss it. Alright, don’t let me hold you I know how she can get,” he chuckles, “Talk to you later, love you too.”

Your feet were apparently just as shocked as your mind from their limited movement. How could this man who’d been nothing but sweet, kind, and ever so charming with you do this? Not only to you, but those waiting for him wherever they were more than likely not knowing about his double life. Just as you were finally able to turn around, trying to quickly retreat back to the bedroom to get your things, the click of the lock followed by his low whistle has you dreading ever serving the man behind you.

“Good morning angel,” he smiled swiftly twirling you to face him before pecking your lips and jaw. A low hum sounded in his throat as his eyes raked along your body loving how you looked in his clothes, while his finger traced up and down the shoulder’s band. “Sleep well?”

You simply nodded. Small grin planted on your face trying to hide the hurt you currently felt aching through your chest. You might’ve slept well, but you had definitely woken to a nightmare finding Ari wasn’t the man he appeared to be.

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

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forever is the sweetest con | Chip Taylor x Reader

18+

Summary: Reader's dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they're lucky, they get his daughter's number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.

Warnings: reader's mom passed away, mentions of parental death, strangers to lovers, random acts of kindness, mutual pining, falling in love, steamy make-outs, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, sub!chip, food mentions, praise, love confessions.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: thank you @samuel-de-champagne-problems for requesting a chip fic!! i am in love with him and also yes this plot is something that happened to my parents, however, my mom is still alive and my dad does give my Instagram out to the men who subcontract for him lmao!

Her father was a carpenter, and he often took on apprentices. You see, he had to learn everything on his own to make his way in life and support his family, he was willing to help other men do the same thing. And so every night he would come home from work and talk about whatever idiot he was teaching this week.

“His name is Chip,” her father emphasized the p with confusion, “what is that even short for?”

“It’s short for Charles,” she couldn’t help but laugh, “is he at least more competent than that Mason kid?”

“Much!” He rolled his eyes, “although I did have to teach him how to put crown moulding in today, he’s a quick learner and you can tell he’s just following what they teach at the schools but I know the hacks.”

“I know, Dad,” she smiled. “Is he cute? Single?”

She’s been on dates with most of the guys he’s worked with, mainly because they went to her high school back in the day, but also because her father was trying to play matchmaker. Ever since her mother died, she’s been taking care of him and he just wanted her to have some fun outside of the house. She needed a life in his eyes.

She was content working at the diner and serving people food all day just to come home and take care of her father. He worked hard to make sure they stayed afloat after her mom, the least she could do is make him dinner and a sandwich for lunch the next day.

“He is actually,” he shrugged, “he’s a yes man, you’d probably really like him.”

“Why’s that?” She asked, waiting for whatever snide comment he was going to make to jokingly piss her off.

“Your aunt Lisa only married your uncle Jason because he was a yes man and she could wear the pants, and you’ve always been just like her,” he explained it nicer than she expected.

“Give him my number next time you work with him?” She asks nicely, taking his plate from the table and moving it to the sink.

“Good luck chip,” she hears him mumble under his breath.

It makes her laugh, she loves her relationship with her father and the friendly environment they were able to keep after everything that’s happened to their family. They always laughed together, he was always cracking jokes and even when they were shouting obscenities at each other it came from a place of love, “fuck-head” was a term of endearment in their home.

—

He brings Chip home with him without telling her, she’s been home all day cleaning the house; her hair is a mess and she’s all sweaty, and he really is cute. She made enough food for an army so it wasn’t a problem in her father’s eyes, saying “doesn’t she always look beautiful? It’s fine Y/N.”

“Yeah,” Chip agreed with a small smile and a blush that roared red down his neck. "You're very beautiful."

She cleans up a bit before dinner, brushing her hair and changing into a nice sundress. She adds some perfume and shakes the anxiety out of her body, he was just one of her dad’s friends from work. And he happened to be incredibly adorable.

Returning to find them talking about how he fixed their frozen pipes in the winter with a hairdryer. It was the most basic shit to her and yet Chip was fascinated like he’s never heard any of these things before. He’s holding a beer in his hands with a leg crossed as he leans on the sofa and he’s so cute…

He’s in his work jeans and his shirt is all sweaty, and his hair is curled on the ends from all the hard work. His hands are dirty and he smells like sawdust and home. She’s not listening to a single thing they’re talking about, she’s just staring at the way his face moves when he talks and how sweet his laugh is.

He loves dinner, he’s beyond thankful and even more so for dessert. She made homemade banana bread with the bananas they had, they were going to go bad if she didn’t. It wasn’t anything special but he acted like she made his whole day.

He helps bring all the dishes into the kitchen, standing beside her as she fills the sink with water, “do you have a towel? I could help dry.”

“I know where everything is, how about you wash and I dry?” She compromises with a smile, and he’s more than happy to oblige.

She learns a little about him, he’s kind and friendly and he seems to crave the feeling of family that being in her home provides. He doesn’t want to stop washing dishes because then he has to go home, and he doesn’t look like he really wants to do that either.

“Do you need a ride home, Chip?” She asks as he lets the sink water out, “I was thinking about going to get some ice cream if you want to join me?”

“I would love to,” he smiles again, “thank you, Y/N.”

—

She understands everything when she drops him off at his tiny, little, run-down apartment; he’s going to be all alone as soon as he leaves her car and she hates that for him. He was so nice it was hard to believe that he didn’t have a nice partner and a house and kids by now.

“I wouldn’t mind if you came over for dinner after all your shifts with my dad? Just text me before so I make enough dinner?” She offers with butterflies swarming in her stomach.

“You’re too kind to me,” he replies, unable to meet her eyes as she turns to him.

“I just want more time to look at you,” she teases, “you’re really handsome.”

He lights up, “you think so?”

She nods with a small laugh, pushing air through her nose as she leans in more, “and you’re nice and funny, and your voice is cute.”

He’s stunned as his eyes flick back and forth from hers to her lips, his lips are parted as he tries to breathe but fails, he looks like no one has ever told him that before.

“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?” She changes the topic so that he can focus once more.

“I should be,” he replies just soft enough for her to hear.

“Would you like a sandwich for lunch? My dad said often the guys don’t bring that much with them to eat, I wouldn’t mind making you a sandwich too?”

She’s not sure why she feels the need to take him in and care for him but she does. She wants to wrap him up in a hug and make his meals and tuck him in at night. He just has this aura that calls for love and she desperately wants to give it to him.

He leans forward and kisses her, she kisses back instinctively and reaches to hold his face. His cheeks are soft as she runs her thumb along the skin, she pulls back only to press a few more pecks to his lips.

“You're something else,” he whispers against her lips before stealing another kiss.

He’s sweet, he tastes like vanilla ice cream and she just wants more. She kisses him again and again, eventually licking at his bottom lip and desperately whining to make out with him. She hasn’t felt this needy since she was a high schooler, but something in Chip made her feel alive.

She is leaning so far into his space she might as well get into his seat too. She moves to kiss his jaw and down his neck and he’s nothing but hands as he feels all over her back.

“Do you want to come inside?” He whispers, scared but just as desperate as she is.

“I shouldn’t,” she says before continuing her trail of kisses down his neck.

She can’t leave any marks because her father will know, but she also doesn’t care. He’d probably just give him a high five and move on with his day. She wanted to be even closer to him, she wanted to sit in his lap and kiss him for hours just because she could.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he tries to persuade her, “it just might be more comfortable for this?”

“Alright.”

He holds her hand on the walk up to his apartment, she likes how much he already feels like hers. He shows her inside and before the door is even closed she’s connecting their lips once again. He moans into her mouth at the feeling of his back colliding with the door and her hands are immediately roaming his shirt.

He’s such a good kisser, he is gentle and soft, he isn’t overly eager and controlling. He lets her explore and slow it down as she presses in closer to him and his hands wander to her hips. She places one of her thighs between his and grinds herself even closer to him.

He’s hard against her hip and the prospect of sleeping with him is so enticing but she knows she can't, at least not yet. It would be too quick, she wants to just appreciate him like this. Her kisses trail from his lips to his ear and he’s still a whining mess, but he’s completely still as she sets the pace of her grinding. He’s not pushing her to do anything or move this along, he’s just letting her explore everywhere… he’s so different.

“I don’t want to have to do laundry tonight,” he whispers with a smirk, moving his hands down to block her from grinding on his erection anymore.

She just undoes his belt and pushes his jeans to the floor before resuming the same position as before, this time she pulls her dress up and rests the clothed tip of his cock in just the right spot under her.

He’s holding her closer again, his arms wrapping almost all the way around her as his big hands grab handfuls of her skin in a desperate attempt to be closer to her. She keeps kissing his neck, they’re more open-mouthed and breathy than she intends but he just feels so good under her.

No one has ever made her feel this desperate before, something about him made her want to devour him whole. His sounds were delicious, his skin even more so, she couldn’t help herself from nipping and sucking at his neck as he made more beautiful noises.

She was so close and she could tell he wasn’t far behind, “let go, Chip,” she whispers in his ear, “cum with me.”

She grinds down hard one final time and he’s a shaking, moaning mess. It’s the feeling of the wet patch in his underwear and the feeling of him shudder that sends her over the edge, panting into his neck as they hold each other close against the door.

He turns them around, taking her by the waist and manhandling her until she’s the one against the door. His lips are on her neck and it’s like his orgasm has only enticed him to go further, “you’re too good to me.”

“You deserve good things Chip,” she whispers as her hand comes up to grip his hair as he continues to kiss her neck.

“Let me say thank you,” he whispers as he drops to his knees and pushes her dress up as she reaches to pull it up for him.

She spreads her legs as he moves her panties to the side and dives in. Spreading her with two fingers he sucks her clit into his mouth first and she tugs on his hair so tight he moans against her. Sending another shockwave through her body as he built another orgasm up.

He’s so good with his mouth, her legs are quaking as she tries to stay standing against the door. She can feel him everywhere but it’s still not enough, she wants him deep inside of her but she knows it’s way too soon to even be doing this. She has never gone this fast with someone before but she couldn’t stop, he felt too amazing.

“Chip,” she chanted his name, tugging on his hair tighter to get him to moan against her and send her over the edge once again.

She ruts against his tongue, fucking his face as she rides it out and he is more than happy to keep going as long as she wants him to and it feels so good she might just stay there. But the twitches get too intense and the whine she makes lets him know she’s done as he kisses back up her body.

Supporting her against the door, he presses his body against her once more. Taller than her, he tilts her chin up so she can look him in the eyes, his chin and nose are glistening with her cum and somehow he’s still cute.

She kisses him on the lips quickly, “when I can feel my legs again, I need to head home.”

When she leaves, she just sits in her car for a few minutes as she settles even more. Then she heads to the grocery store on the way home to get nice things for his sandwich tomorrow, because any man who can make her cum twice in 10 minutes deserves the best sandwich.

—

Waking up at 6 in the morning to make sandwiches is normally a chore, she sometimes makes them the night before so she doesn’t have to worry and can sleep in, this morning she wants to put all the tender loving care into these lunches. Her dad has noticed, he’s eyeing her down from the living room as he has his morning cereal and she knows he wants to ask.

“I didn’t sleep with him if that’s what you’re wondering.” Her voice is just loud enough for him to shoot her a listening glance.

“Oh, but you’re making him a sandwich?”

“You should see his apartment complex,” her expression drops, “ and after the way he devoured dinner last night, I just knew he hasn’t been taken care of in forever. And he’s so nice?”

He smiles, “your mom did the same thing for me.”

“You’ve never told me the story,” she reminds him.

He gets up and walks over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter so they can look at each other. His expression is soft, he’s an overly kind man and it was the thing she loved most about him.

“Your grandfather and I worked at a company making refrigerators, I was new to the state and had nothing and so he brought me home for dinner,” he smiles at the memory.

“Her parents got divorced soon after and her mom was having trouble with the bills so I moved in and I helped, and every morning your mom woke up and she made me a sandwich as a thank you.”

“Oh,” she smiled at the recollection, they really were having the same little love story. “Well, I’m thinking about making fish for dinner, would you ask Chip if he likes it? I’ve invited him over for dinner after all his shifts with you.”

He laughs in a huff, he’s proud of her— and himself. He finally found a good one for her.

—

She outdoes herself for dinner. The food is amazing, the table is set, and she’s all dolled up for him. Her dad thinks it’s cute and he doesn’t mind being the third wheel, they all talk to each other like he’s been having dinner with them for years.

He helps clean up after dinner and her dad falls asleep watching Jeopardy in the living room like normal. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back while he’s still doing the dishes, he’s still all sweat from work but she doesn’t care, she wants to give him a hug.

“What’s this for?” He whispers, placing a wet hand over hers on his stomach.

“Do I need a reason to hug you?” She counters.

“No,” he turns around in her grip so that he can give her a real hug. Wet hands on her back and everything.

She held him there, leaning against him as he leaned against the sink. His heartbeat was quick and he still smelled like sawdust and hard work, but he was warm and soft and it felt so right to just be there.

“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?”

“I will be for the rest of the month,” he confirms her hopes; he was going to be around often.

“Would it be alright if I asked you to stay the night?” She whispers incredibly soft for only him to hear.

He nods against her before taking her hand and leading her outside to the porch. They close the house door softly and then she’s back in his arms, “are you sure?”

She looks up at him and he’s even more beautiful today than he was yesterday, “I can take you back to your place to get some things? It would be nice to send you off to work in the morning.”

“You’ve decided that I’m yours now, haven’t you?” He teased her with a smile, perfectly fine with that.

She nods again, “you could move in tomorrow if you wanted, I’m not sure what’s possessed me to take you in like this, but I really don’t want to let you go.”

He delicately places his hands on her cheeks and pulls her into a kiss, it’s soft and short and he’s quick to look at her again.

“You can have me,” he whispers, “forever, if you want.”

It makes her laugh, “that's the sweetest con you know, you promise yourself to me forever and yet you have no idea if you can stay that long.”

He nods in agreement, “what if I promise my hardest to stay?”

“Okay,” she smiles again, leaning forward and kissing him again, finally.

—

The month is coming to an end and he’s slept beside her almost every single night, and even with that, they’re still taking it slow. They go on dates on the weekends, they make out in her car, he drives her to work, she kisses him at the door every morning he stays with them and they’ve done almost everything but have sex together.

They didn’t feel the need to yet, everything that was leading up to it was fun and interesting. She’s enjoyed sneaking around with him to get each other off back and forth, like an adult game of tag.

She’d blow him in the car on the way back to his apartment after dinner, or he’d come and pick her up after a shift at the diner only for them to end up making out in by the back door, and his hand always ended up in her panties. It was an interesting month of getting to know each other, but she wanted more now.

Her dad is going out of town on a fishing trip with his buddies this weekend, she’s booked time off and Chip has no idea what is in store for him. She plans a dinner, she gets all dressed up for him, there are candles and music and it’s perfect.

He’s amazed by the whole thing and she can really tell he’s been mostly alone for his whole life, he looks at a simple home-cooked meal like it was a million dollars and he was beyond grateful for everything. He almost cries he’s so thankful for the time and effort she puts into taking care of him.

He goes to pick up the plates and bring them to the kitchen as soon as their meal is over, “ah, ah, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Cleaning up for you?” Chip answers with a nervous tone that she hasn’t heard before.

“Don’t you want dessert?”

“I can bring it out for you, stay there,” he offers and then frowns when she stands anyway.

“You’re looking at it,” she whispers as she enters his space.

She takes the dishes from his hands and places them on the counter before wrapping her arms around him, “my dad isn’t going to be home until Sunday night.”

“Oh,” he whispers back before his hands reach for her ass and he’s picking her up.

Her legs wrap around his waist and she grips his shoulders for dear life as he hurries them up the stairs and towards her bedroom.

He’s incredibly strong for such a skinny guy, although he was filling out the longer he knew her. He makes it up the stairs and through her door as she gets a head start at kissing his neck until he has her pressed against the door.

“What’s with you and doors?” She teases as he rests her back on her feet, she draws him in closer to her so their chests are pressed together and she can look up into those sweet honey brown eyes.

“I’m just impatient.”

“Too bad, baby,” she teases, “I’m making you take your time with me tonight.”

“Yes ma’am,” he responded with a smirk, “I’m here to please you,” he whispered as he leaned in more.

Attaching his lips to her neck he kissed towards her ear, “to thank you,” he took a fistful of her hair and moved it out of the way before kissing down towards her shoulder. “To show you how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”

She pushed him back enough to get Chip to stop kissing her neck, instead, pressing her lips against his. Kissing him deeply before running her tongue across Chip’s bottom lip as a request to make out with him.

Making out with Chip was something she did often, yet it felt like not enough every time. His plump lips and velvety soft tongue, soft touches and rough stubble rubbing against her chin and cheeks.

He smelled like oak after a storm, it was warm and electric and delicious. She dipped her face into the curve of Chip’s neck and took a whiff before attacking him with open-mouthed kisses.

He giggled, his hands her hips now, the pads of his fingers going up and his nails trailing back down over the fabric of her dress, the perfect motion to make the hair on her body stand up.

She reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, separating from his neck so she had room to pull it off of him before reconnected their mouths. Kissing him deeply then pushing him onto the bed, watching Chip get comfortable before she crawled on top.

They wasted no time getting back into the groove of things, tongues clashing and hips grinding, soft moans in each other's mouths, hands roaming everywhere. She reached between them to undo his belt and the button of his jeans so his dick wasn’t rubbing against the zipper. Making out like that was some of the most fun she ever had, she could do it for hours on end.

She pulled back, kneeling above Chip, she grabbed his open belt and pulled it through all the loops and chucked it towards the floor. She massaged her hand over the bulge in his pants as she got closer to his crotch, watching as Chip threw his head back to moan.

She fiddled with the waistband, wanting to pull them down, Chip lifted his ass up ever so slightly for her to do so, she pulled his pants and boxers all the way off and threw them to the floor as well. Spreading Chip’s legs and taking him in her hand, finally. She dipped down ever so slightly and licked the tip and he let out a beautiful cry as his hips bucked. She loved his noises, she loved seeing what new ones she could make and he was more than willing to show her.

Chip gasped and reached out to grip her hair, she took that as an invitation to suck his dick, she wrapped her mouth around the tip, slipping her way down as far as she could go before bobbing back up. It was slow and sensual, she made sure to cover all of him; jerking what didn’t fit in her mouth, dipping down even further to kiss his balls and suck one into her mouth.

The people she’s been with before had never been reactive, they either gave her praise or roughly directed her deeper and deeper till she choked. Chip was different though, making soft noises that sounded like ‘yes’ and ‘god’, his little gasps and stutters of breath were the cutest things. It just encouraged her to do it more.

She pulled off, looking up at Chip who was just staring at her softly. If she knew anything about giving a blowjob she knew what her face probably looked like.. eyes blown out in passion and lips swollen bright red. It was a sight he loved to see, his hand slipped down to cup her cheek and then down to his chin where he used his thumb to brush her bottom lip.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

She crawled back up and sat on his hips, taking the hem of her dress in her hands and pulling it over her head. She was wearing a nice matching underwear set for him, nothing too fancy because she knew it would just end up on the floor anyway.

She leaned back down, attaching their mouths once again, he wrapped his arms around her back and slowly rolled them over safely. Now on top of her, looking up into Chip’s eyes was a blessing. He blinked a few times, making sure it was real and he wasn’t dreaming that the most beautiful girl in the world was looking at him like that.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked gently with pleading eyes that let her know he was desperate to touch her however she pleased.

“Make me yours, Chip.”

“I think you always have been,” he replied.

His beautiful sweaty curls drooping over his eyes, she smiled as she brushed them back. Petting his face softly as she looked at him, he was so beautiful. The light was bouncing off the wall just enough to illuminate him.

“How do you want to do it?” She whispered.

“Let’s just go where the rhythm takes us,” Chip’s voice dropped low as he did, pressing their chests together, close enough to kiss as he rubbed their noses together softly.

She kissed him, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him in more. He squeezed his arms between her back and the mattress, wrapping himself around her. he decided to reach into her panties with his free hand.

He took a moment to admire her chest, she had caught him staring before. He constantly used them as a pillow, he wanted to touch them so badly, so she leaned forward and let him unhook her bra. Pulling it from her body and towards the floor.

She could sense his hesitation, taking both his hands off her sides and guiding them to her breasts. He whimpered as he felt them, she closed her eyes at the feeling. A small moan escaping her lips as he groped her. His big hands felt amazing, so strong and gentle, rough and yet soothing. Perfection against her skin.

She leaned back against the bed then, leaving him sitting up on her hips. Her boobs flattening out into a funny shape as she laid back, making her smirk in embarrassment. Only making Chip love them more, diving in and kissing the newly exposed skin.

He dragged his bottom lip over her skin between kisses. Leaving a trail of where he’s been already. She had a hand in his hair, holding it out of his face as she watched him.

Panting as she tried to grind up against him, the arousal in her core was overpowering. She needed to feel more, she wanted all of him. She was addicted to him already, hoping she’ll have forever with him.

She was too hot, feeling the sweat gather behind her knees as she tried to find more friction against him. She didn’t mind all the exploring he was doing, it was a wonderful appetizer, but she was nowhere close to being full.

He pulled back then to sit on his knees between her legs before Chip slowly slipped her underwear off. Raising her hips softly before resting her ass back in his lap and spreading her legs.

Fully on display for him, she played with her nipples slightly. Knowing how much he loved her boobs, watching her with a slack jaw as his hands ran up her legs.

He snapped back into the moment when she pushed her ass down against him, a whimper slipping past his lips as he placed his thumb on her clit, rubbing gentle circles into the bundle of nerves.

With his pointer finger, on the other hand, he traced around her entrance, not pushing in, just exploring the wetness as it dripped out. She tightened up on command, seeing his breath hitch as his finger almost slipped in.

“Please?” She begged, arching her back more so that he could finger her.

“Can we try something?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, resting on her forearms as she leaned forward.

“If I lay back would you, um,” he couldn’t say the words. They felt too filthy leaving his mouth, pointing at his face instead.

She sat up then, pushing him back against the pillows and settling herself over his chest and gripping the headboard for support, Chip wrapped his arms around her hips and guided her forward more.

Her legs were already trembling in anticipation as she hovered over his face, feeling his breath right on her core, Without warning, he sucked her clit into his mouth.

“Fuck,” she gasped as she smacked her forehead against the blocked window behind her bed, hoping to god no one could see through the blinds.

He pushed one finger in as his tongue played with her clit. She couldn’t help rocking her hips against his face, helping him get deeper inside of her. He curled his finger, lightly fucking her with it as he sucked, licked, kissed her pussy.

She was a mess, shaking over top of him as she tried to keep her orgasm in. Not wanting to cum yet, wanting to feel all of him inside of her before she did that. So he added a second finger, making her cry out in pleasure against the window without even trying.

Her orgasm ripped through her as she fucked his face, holding his hair with one hand as the other steadied her on the headboard. She couldn’t believe how intense it was, almost knocking the wind out of her as she road it out on his tongue.

He smiled against her, kissing her clit once more before pulling out and helping her back towards his lap. She wasted no time hovering over his cock as it strained on his stomach.

“Do you want to?” She asked, trying to control her breathing but still looking like a panting mess as she anticipated him.

“I’ll always want you,” he assures her with the sweetest smile.

She wraps her arms around him and rolls them over once more, he adjusts between her legs and drags himself along her overstimulated clit, she shudders at the feeling and then laughs at her own reaction.

“Ready?” He whispered.

She nodded, feeling Chip push in, she reached for his hands where they rested on her hips and interlocked their fingers. He bottomed out and dropped to hover over her, bringing their interlocked hands over her head.

She reached up to kiss him, Chip pushing into the kiss and making her settle into the pillow once again. It honestly felt like a movie scene, a first time between two star-crossed lovers. He pulled out ever so slightly before thrusting in again, she gasped against his mouth.

Chip trusted more while she pushed her hips into it as well, an offbeat rhythm developed in pure ecstasy. She let go of Chip’s hands to snake them around his waist, to run her fingers over the soft and slightly chilled skin of his back. Feeling the bump of his spine as Chip ducked into the crook of her neck, placing kisses along her collarbone.

Chip changed the position of his thrust as he wrapped his arms under her, arching her back ever so slightly to reach the bundle of nerves that left her a quivering mess. Y/N, in response to the added pleasure, ran her sharp nails down Chip’s back and he groaned at the feeling, “do that again.” he requested.

“Like that?” She asked, dragging his nails down him once more.

“Yeah,” Chip moaned, dark and deep.

The feeling of pure bliss overtook her body with each thrust, warm chills ran through him with each brush of his thumb on her clit. Every kiss to her neck and squeeze around her waist made her feel like she was on fire.

The hairs on her arms stood up, goosebumps formed along his forearms. Chip kissed from her neck to her nipple and took the hard nib into his mouth causing her to moan like she never had before.

“Chip,” she panted, pulling Chip’s face back up to his.

His eyes were absolutely blown out in pleasure, those golden wonders he used to stare into were now replaced solely by the pupils. She ran her thumb across Chip’s cheek before reaching to the nape of his neck to pull him into another kiss. Open mouths pressing together, hot air on each other's faces as they panted to the pleasure.

She was in heaven.

Her orgasm bubbled in her stomach, “are you close?” Chip whispered right beside her mouth, kissing her cheek lightly after.

She hummed, unable to speak with the mass amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Chip fucked into her a bit harder, a tiny bit faster, hitting her g-spot dead on each time to the point the nerves in her thighs were quaking uncontrollably.

She was so close, Chip used 3 fingers to quickly rub over her clit before she threw her head back with a shout. Cumming with her eyes pressed shut, pleasure coursed through her body stronger than she’s ever felt it before.

Nothing had ever made her cum that hard, ripping through her like her soul was leaving her body. She dug her nails deep into Chip’s skin holding him close to his body while he kept thrusting.

A high-pitched gasp left his lips, close to her ear as his hips sputtered into her’s one last time.

She still hadn’t opened her eyes, her breath rigid, she felt winded. Chip had stilled as he came inside of her and then collapsed into her, deadweight laying on her.

Chip mustered enough energy to prop himself upon his arm and look at her. Using his free hand he ran his thumb against her bottom lip once more to get her to open her eyes.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she replied with a smile.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, smile growing, “that was amazing.”

“Better than you hoped?”

“I’ve thought of doing this for the last month, I knew it would be amazing but I never imagined it would be that good.” she complimented Chip, “I think I died when I came, no joke.”

He laughed, dropping himself back into the crook of her neck. He kissed her more, up to her ear and across her jaw to her lips. Soft small kissed followed by a long-drawn-out one. Chip pulled their lips apart with a smack.

“Let me clean us up,” he said.

At that moment she realized Chip was still in her, soft and all. He pulled out slowly it was always such a weird feeling to be empty again. He sat up and made his way off the bed, he went to her bathroom.

Coming back still naked, his dick bobbing between his legs, she loved the view. He had a thing of baby wipes with him, knowing exactly where she kept everything in her bathroom by now.

“I can do it,” she suggested, reaching for them.

Chip pulled them back away from her, “I want to.” he said softly.

Running the cold wipe over her soft skin, Chip looked mesmerized. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” she replied with a shy smile, “can you come back up here now?”

He tossed the wipes onto her night table and cuddled right back into her naked body, she held onto him tightly so he wouldn’t escape. She knew he wouldn’t, but she loved him so much she never wanted to let go.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered into her neck. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same yet.”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed, pulling back so she could see his face as he looked up at her. “I think I’ve been in love with you since you walked in and said I was beautiful.”

He reaches for her cheeks and pulls her in for another kiss, “I’m going to love you forever.”

The words used to scare her, but now she looks at him and thinks they might be right for them.

“Forever it is, then.”

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk @thatsonezesty13

#chip taylor #chip taylor fanfic #chip taylor x reader #chip taylor x you #chip taylor self insert #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #mgg fanfiction #mgg fanfic #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #68 kill #68 kill fanfic #68 kill fanfiction #68 kill smut #chip taylor smut #matthew gray gubler fanfic #mgg smut

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kkusuka · 3 years

Note

What about a insecure reader about her and Ushijima's relationship since he doesn't seem all to interested in having her around unless it's for volleyball purposes. So when she starts to drift away from him he's super confused, suddenly Tendou becomes more comfortable to sleep on at movie nights, and Reon seems to know everything you used to tell Ushijima. And he struggles internally because he doesn't know what to do. And the last straw was when you walked in holding Goshiki's hand and he walked over pushing the 1st year away with a worried/pained/anxious face shaking his head saying no because he doesn't to no what else to say but he knows it's not right.

Muddle<3

relationship: ushijima wakatoshi x reader, slight oikawa tootu x reader

words: 1.5k

synopsis: Ushijima can’t bare to lose you.

cw: insecurity

a/n: i havent written something like this in a while and i really missed it!

Ushijima Wakatoshi was not emotionless.

Simple, but not emotionless.

It was something that had to be constantly reminded before people began to truly believe he didn’t feel anything. He’s had his many licks with emotion, as anyone else would. The joy of finding the one thing he truly loved doing; volleyball. The confusion when his mother began reprimanding him for using his left hand. The overwhelming helplessness when his father walked out the door.

Butterflies when you smiled at him in the hallway, the heat in his cheeks when he saw you in the stands at one of his games. The shake in his hands when he met you at the gates and told you his feelings, very detailed in facts.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was clearly not emotionless.

So why was it he seemed so indifferent to you?

You knew he had to feel something for you, people don't empty their entire heart just because they felt like it, at least you hoped. Of course, as much as he denied, you knew that you would be on par if not second to volleyball. In a sick way; you were fine with it as long as he came back to you and let you share some of his burdens, you were happy.

But as of recently, it seemed that he couldn’t even do that.

Gone were the nights he would fall into your arms outside the gym doors because he’s been practicing for five hours straight. The walks in the park when neither of you could sleep, ones that ended in his arms on the couch watching some random food network show.

So now, as you leone the couch, void of the warmth you so desperately crave; you can't help but wonder if it was only you who felt the distance between you.

Your door unlocked- just as you thought it would. Your boyfriend slipping through the door, eyes immediately finding your body draped over the end of the sofa. He could still see the dinner you had made, glazing over the dirty dishes, proof he was hours behind when he said he’d be here.

“Tosh? Is there any way we can spend more time together? It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve done something.”

“No. Nationals is arriving soon, I cannot do anything about my schedule. We are spending time together right now.”

If Ushijima was not emotionless; how was it so easy for him to dismiss you?

Did you and Tendou always have a Wednesday movie night?

Ushijima raked his mind for the last time he’d seen this; the last time he was in his dorm on a weeknight. He knew you and the redhead were good friends, close since the first year of high school. He remembered something about a sleepover before you had begun dating and the occasional dinner at some fast-food restaurant.

He understood both your and his love for anime, and the movies alongside. But if he hadn’t known any better, he would assume that it was to two of you dating, not yourself and him.

Clearing his throat, you both glanced from your spot, huddled on the couch, inviting him to sit beside you. It was nice, though he knew nothing about what was happening on screen, something about demons and a little girl along with a boy with boar head overtop his.

The second the credits rolled, you and Tendou engaged in a conversation that he couldn’t even begin to understand. Somehow ending in another plan to go out the next night for a store opening that will have a manga that you both like.

Finally, as Tendou left, you noticed how silent your boyfriend had been since getting there.

“Would you like to come with us, Toshi?” Would he? The ice in his eyes held the answer far before he spoke.

“No. I will be practicing.”

The statement seemed like nothing. A simple retort you’ve heard so many times you could predict what he was going to say before he did. The phrase forced the memories of laying alone on the couch and sitting at restaurants staring at the clock for what felt like-- and really was-- hours a night.

You could count o one hand how many dates that he’s been early too, or even stayed the whole time. That’s even when he accepted your invitation.

Your friend had warned you that you would feel like this, abandoned and thrown to the side. ‘Why do you stay? Clearly, he isn’t treating you right, o find someone who will!’

“Just for a little? We haven’t been out for a while.” you plea, noticing how he was ready to walk away.it felt like ages since you’ve had an actual conversation.

“Y/n, don’t start right now. I am tired, and I have already told you that I am busy. Quite pestering.” pestering? Is that what you meant to him, were you a bother?

Tendou had always reminded you that Wakatoshi wasn’t good at feelings. He didn’t know how to put what he felt into words. You accepted that, you understood that emotions can be harder on some people.

But now, it wasn’t just feeling an word, it was actions. It was the missed dates he never apologized for, the charging past you after practice that he stayed overtime for. It was him turning his back on you before you could respond.

As you turn your eyes catch one of the photos you have taped to your wall, a selfie you and him took during a trip to Harajuku in May. You bought matching bracelets both with small flower charms on each, ‘a symbol of eternal love’, yeah right.

‘If you’re the only one putting in effort, it’s not a relationship, it’s desperation’

Ushijima Wakaothish may not have emotions, but he surely had one.

Jealousy.

Green and far too ugly to acknowledge.

He may not understand the butterflies when you smile or the warms when your hand locks with his, but he knows exactly what the burning in his veins is. The furrow in his brown and deeper frown than normal, he’s jealous, extremely at that.

A fact that anyone who looked at the man could see, his aura radiated exactly what he was feeling, a true sight to behold.

His mind was muddled, what right did Oikawa have to even share the same breath as you, never mind put a hand on you. His mind ran through all of the things he could possibly do right there, he could punch the brown-eye playboy, but then he would be in trouble.

He could make a big scene and yell at him, or he could do nothing, just watch as the Seijoh playing steals your attention. Suddenly he’s thrown into memory, Reon and you chatting at the lunch table. Like you’d been friends for years, the smile that was supposed to only be meant for him plastered on your face.

Then it was Goshiki and his blistered hands that you so dutifully wrapped for him, holding his hand so tenderly that Wakatoshi wondered if it felt like when you held hands with him.

Then to Tendou, your pro-claimed cuddle buddy.

Would it even be worth it to stop Oikawa? Has he already lost you to someone else?

He couldn’t let that happen, not when he still had a chance to keep you.

You were violently ripped from whatever stupid pick-up line Oikawa was spouting by two hands on your hips. Your entire body was pulled into a hard chest as the same two arms cradle you to his.

“Waka-”

“Don’t talk to what’s mine, Oikawa”

You’ve never heard him sound so angry, he practically snarled at the setter, turning the both of you and walking down the hallway to the ext before the brown-haired man ould even retort.

“Toshi are you-”

“Please don't leave me.” Another emotion you’ve never seen from the man, fear.

He was acred, losing you was the end of the world for him. What was he supposed to do if you aren’t there for him? Who will he look at in the crowd to keep him going during the fifth set? There is simply no one that can give him the rush you can.

“I know I’ve been bad, and I’m so so sorry. I can make up for the dates and we can go to the manga store and to dinner whenever you want. We can watch movies after practice and cuddle whenever! Just please don’t leave me for Oikawa!” he pleaded, taking your hands to his, holding you so tightly and yet like you were glass.

“Wakatoshi, I’m not leaving you. Please calm down, I’m not going anywhere.” You move your hands to cup his face, finally taking notice of the tears looming in his eyes.

And you smiled. The smile just for him, taking his head onto your shoulder, slightly rocking back and forth. His hands rubbing along the length of your back.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I won’t let you.”

tags: @bakugos-cumsock @rinsangel

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima angst #ushijima x reader angst #ushijima wakatoshi x readder #ushijima wakatoshi x reader angst #oikawa tooru #oikawa angst #oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader angst #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x self insert

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

Peace

Karl Heisenberg x reader, Ethan Winters and the other Lords x platonic!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR RE8!!, insinuations to smut, talks about having children

Author’s Note: this is so wacky and i just now finished it. Its just for fun and an excuse to write domestic resident evil 8 characters. I had a blast doing it. Also it was loosely influenced by @/nerdymixedpan on tiktok who makes this kind of AU stuff! Highly recommend their tiktoks

Summary: An AU where Ethan didn’t kill any of the Lords and was convinced to stay, leave Mia (the crazy chick who tried to kill him and also worked for a sketchy company prior to that) and raise Rose with the Lords and the reader.

Genre: fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You were walking around Dimitrescu castle, as you often did. You hopped between places when you could. You always went to sleep at the Heisenberg factory but you did get along well with the other Lords and liked to pay them a visit when you could.

It was actually Cassandra who asked for your presence. You had heard of course that the village was being attacked but you didn’t mind too much about that at the moment. Cassandra wanted you over at the castle, to try and talk some sense into Ethan Winters.

You had heard of Ethan at that point, of course. Everyone had. The father of the infamous Rose. But you didn’t think you would get to meet him.

So you came over there and knocked on Alcinas bedroom door. She swung it open, gazing down at you. She was no longer surprised when she came over and usually was quite pleased to have someone to talk to. Rarely did she speak to people outside her daughters and Mother Miranda and she had a responsibility to those people. She didn’t have a responsibility to you.

“What brings you along here? We’re a bit busy. I assume you’ve heard Ethan WInters has escaped Heisenbergs grasp.” You let out a huff of air and nodded.

“Yes, he was not pleased when he came back home. Cassandra called, said I should try and talk to him.”

“Cassandra wants him murdered.”

“Maybe she has some sympathy because of the baby,” you suggested. You gestured to the large castle. “Any idea where I can find him?” She shook her head, exasperated.

“If I had any idea, don’t you think I would have gone to find him already?” You nodded stiffly.

“I will look for him myself then. If you find a short person not in robes, double check to make sure it’s not me before you claw them,” you told her. She gave you a small smirk before you turned around and started back down the stairs.

You had free reign of the castle and had learned its insides and outs at this point. On occasion the girls asked you to stay over and hang out for a little while longer so you had slept there as well.

You started to check a couple of the rooms, walking around haphazardly. It was when you came to a room on the main floor that you found the Duke. He sat there and raised his eyebrows at the sight of you.

“You aren’t Ethan Winters,” he said.

“Ah so you’ve seen him. Care to point me in the right direction?” Duke shrugged a bit.

“He’ll be here eventually if you care to wait.” You let out a sigh. You could go searching but it was a sure bet that he will return to this spot. You pulled up a chair from the table there.

“Alright then. You selling any good food?”

=====

Ethan came running into the room as you were enjoying a nice dish. You stood up quickly, putting your dish down on the table. He had his gun up but dropped it at the sight of you.

“Are you a villager? Do you need help getting out?” he asked, clearly out of breath. You scoffed and shook your head.

“No, no. I’m here to talk to you Ethan.” He was still clearly frazzled. You grabbed your dish and held it up to him. “Care for some food?” you asked, hopefully as a peacemaker. He looked between you and the food and saw that you at least looked human.

He put his gun in his holster and took the food from you.

“Alright. What do you want to talk to me about?” he asked, sitting down at the table. “Who are you anyway?”

“This is Karl Heisenberg's pet,” said the Duke. You scoffed.

“Shush up, you’re not helping.” You sat beside Ethan. “Ethan, I know where Rose is.”

“You know where Rose is?! Where is she?!”

“Shush, let me finish.” You cleared your throat. “This whole thing, all of it, is about Mother Miranda. She took the place of Mia to try and take Rose away. She believes Rose will be a good vessel. Ethan, Lady Dimitrescu, Karl, none of the Lords are your enemy. It’s just Mother Miranda.”

“Well it looks like everyone is trying to kill me.” You shook your head.

“If you helped them kill Mother Miranda, they will let you keep Rose. In fact, I have it on good authority that most of them would love to help take care of her.” Ethan stared at you for a minute and leaned back. He had some food on his chin. You handed him a napkin and he took it gratefully. “And Ethan...Mia told Mother Miranda that you...you’re not exactly human.”

His eyes went wide.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re mold Ethan.” He was silent for a very long time. Everything raced through his head. Why would he want to stay here? Granted the castle was nice...and these people did know how to save Rose...it would protect him from anything else Chris had planned that he didn’t know about.

And apparently, Mia had been keeping this secret for God knows how long.

It all seemed like too much for him.

“Take a second to take that in. I don’t want to rush you but I have to talk to the daughters about it.”

“You swear they’ll help me with Rose?”

“No one wants her to die, Ethan. We want Mother Miranda gone.” He leaned back in his chair.

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m human. I’m not mold, I’m not an experiment. Just human. If I could live a happy life here, why can’t you and Rose?”

That made sense. If anything made sense, that did. Ethan took a deep breath.

“Fine. What do you need me to do?”

======

Some Time After The Death of Mother Miranda

“Have you seen Rose? She’s getting bigger everyday.” Karl was speaking when he walked into your room. You were sitting on the bed, flipping through a book. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your face.

“What, now that you’ve killed Mother Miranda you’ve moved on to caring about the village baby?” you questioned, putting your hand in your palm. He gave you a look but you ignored him.

“You act as though you don’t want a baby every time you see her,” he commented. You scoffed.

“And it always ends up being pretty pleasurable for you doesn’t it?” You grabbed his hand and pushed him down on the bed so that he was sitting on the edge. You wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“You’re damn right.” He brought your hand up to kiss it. “Ethan’s going to Moreaus today, to swim around with Rose. He invited you,” Karl said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Did he invite me or do you want a nice night again?” He kissed your hand again and then kissed your wrist.

“You won’t know until you get there.”

“Fair point my love, fair point.” You kissed his cheek and got up. “I have lunch with Donna but I’ll try and catch up with Ethan afterwards. I may make it, I may not.” You slid off the bed. “Guess you’ll just have to wait to find out.”

He wanted to get up and drag you back but you were already walking out the door.

====

Ethan was by the water, holding Rose in his lap. She was truly getting bigger every day. Moreau was standing beside them, dry now. Ethan’s hair was damp. They must have just gotten done swimming.

“Good of you to join us,” Ethan said as you walked over.

“Salvatore, Ethan…” You leaned over Ethan to look Rose in the eyes. “Little Rosey. How was swimming you guys? Sorry it took so long, I was with Donna and lunch went overtime.” You sat down beside them.

“Rose was perfect,” Moreau said. “She’s a quick learner!” You nodded, looking over at her. You brought your finger up to her and she latched onto it.

“I believe it,” you said. Ethan locked eyes with you.

“I wanted you to come because I heard that Chris was trying to get into the factory.” You raised an eyebrow. You wrapped your arms around your knees and leaned against them.

“He’s still trying to get in here? I thought once Miranda was killed he would leave us alone.” Ethan shook his head.

“Apparently he wants Rose because she’s an asset now,” he muttered but he was looking down at his daughter who was reaching up to his face. He sighed. “She’s getting hungry.”

“You should probably take her back to the castle then.” That was where Ethan usually slept with her. He figured it would be easiest to keep Rose safe with four vampires around at all time that adored her.

“Yes my sister will be wondering where you are,” Moreau said. You nodded in agreement.

“I’ll tell Karl about Chris although I don’t think he’ll get past the Lycans. Then he has to worry about the machines that Karl makes and those are a hassle too. Not the brightest, but a hassle,” you admitted, standing. “I’ll walk you back.” Ethan nodded. You turned to Moreau. “I’ll see you later as well. Try to catch up on the TV show we were watching, I don’t wanna miss anything.”

“I will, of course!” he exclaimed. You smiled and then turned back to walk with Ethan and Rose back up to the Castle. You got into the boat.

“Can you hold her while I steer?” Ethan asked. You nodded and took Rose from him, cradling her in your arms. She was looking around, ever the well behaved child. Ethan started the boat and then you were off.

There was a few minutes of silence as he started to catch his bearings and you played with Rose. You and Ethan had grown close over the weeks he had lived there. He rarely knew peace and didn’t trust it that much but you always assured him that it would be alright.

“I was thinking of maybe starting to rebuild the village,” you said, looking up at him. He raised an eyebrow.

“By yourself?” You scoffed.

“No, obviously not. I’d get the help of everyone. Donna and Angie already wanna pitch in and I figure I could guilt trip Karl into helping, with his whole telepathy thing. I think it could be a fun project. Plus if you accidentally lose a hand you can put it right back on.”

He nudged you, laughing.

“I don’t think it’s a bad plan but who will live there?”

“Us maybe. Separate housing of course but it could be a home away from the Lords. And any villagers left stragglers around.”

“I don’t think there are any left,” he told you.

“Well have you checked?” He was silent. “Exactly. Rose may want a place for herself one day, who knows.” You looked back down at her. She was reaching up to play with your ear.

“She’ll need friends her own age one day,” he said, solemnly.

“We’ll see to that when it comes.” He looked back at you.

“Have you and Heisenberg ever talked about kids?” he teased. You laughed.

“We have our hands full with Rose and the thousands of metal children he makes on the daily,” you admitted. You glanced down at Rose again. “But maybe one day. He seems to be hinting at it and I don’t know...maybe it’s not such a bad idea.”

Ethan glanced back at you and then quickly looked away. You looked happy, curious, wondering.

“If it’s any help...I’m glad I had her. Even if she got me into this whole mess,” he said laughing a bit. You smiled up at him as he pulled into the dock.

“You want a little Heisenberg running around?” Ethan scoffed.

“I wouldn’t mind a little you. Rose could have a friend.” He got out of the boat and you handed him Rose. You got out as well.

“We’ll see. Karl may be banking on it.” You both started to walk back into town. At the castle entrance you had to part.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, if your legs still work.” You gasped, shoving him.

“You have a mouth on you Ethan Winters for living in a house with four other grown women,” you said. He laughed and went into the gate without saying anything else.

The walk back to the factory was a pleasant one. The sun was setting and the breeze was nice. Not too hot, not too cold.

You made it back to Karl in record timing. He wasn’t in the room so you went looking for him. He was in one of the work rooms, leaning over one of his new inventions. You walked up behind him and leaned over the head of the machinery.

“Hey there kitten! Back up, it might come alive at any second,” he muttered, moving you back. You nodded, stepping away from the table. He turned off his recording and turned around to look at you.

“Well how was swimming with Moreau?”

“And Rose and Ethan. I caught the tail end. She had fun though. You’re right, she is growing everyday.”

“I take it by you referencing our earlier conversation you remember how it ended.”

“I’m not doing it if this machine will come alive half way through and kill us.” Karl scoffed and took your hand.

“Up to the bedroom it is kitten!” You scoffed but let him drag you along, giggling the whole way up.

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagines #resident evil 8 imagines #resident evil village imagines #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #alcina dimitrescu #ethan winters

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maystea · 3 years

Text

Made by: ? , with love.

The Devil Judge has a lot of hidden small details which are actually pretty important for the plot. Sometimes they can be in facial expressions, sometimes it’s actions that show what is going on, and sometimes it’s words or simple mismatches.

While rewatching The Devil Judge one more time, I got a question about what Ga-On was eating in Kang’s mansion before he started to cook for Yo-Han, Elijah, and himself. So now, I want to speculate on all the variations that are shown or hinted at in the show.

— Option one: Instant food.

The most obvious one, and maybe the easiest to think since we have seen that Elijah eats instant food, Yo-Han eats instant food. Ga-On ate ramyeon when the Professor came in in episode eight.

But it’s not the thing because of two reasons. The first one, Ga-On doesn't approve of eating such food as complex meals, even though he doesn't mind having it with Soo-Hyun in episode two.

When Elijah asks him to make her ramyeon and to bring it to her, Ga-On looks at it with bewilderment and thought that can be heard even from here: “That won't do.” His next decision? To make a “simple” breakfast that looks more like a royal banquet.

The second reason is just a simple mismatch in time. He couldn't cook for himself the first meal while sleeping and being affected after the explosion. Yet, from the tray that Ms. Ji successfully broke, we see an easy-to-cook but still a plate or two of homemade food.

— Option two: Ms. Ji.

This one would explain the tray, and what Ga-On ate that small amount of days. Also, it’s logical for her to cook for a guest in the house where she works.

Ga-On's glad when Ms. Ji is preparing to start to cook for him. He even invites Elijah to eat with him, even though she resists, saying “she (Ms. Ji) put in the effort to...” and stops only when Elijah raises her voice at him.

Ga-On wanted to try Ms. Ji’s food but it turned out she was banned from cooking and after ignoring the rule of not being in the mansion after the sun has set down, was reminded of its existence (someone was just trying to save his husband’s receptors, but about it a little bit later).

...but well, he will eat more then. And when the lunch is ready, Ga-On’s excited when he sees all the main and side dishes on the table. “You're a great cook,” says Ga-On trying the soup... and understands that there was a reason why she was prohibited from cooking.

An important note is that Ga-On doesn't say “so I've been eating your food all this time,” or something similar to it. He just asks since when Yo-Han banned her from making dishes (with a readable attempt on his face to save his poor tongue from everything he tried a second ago).

And the last thing that proves this theory’s non-existence is the conversation in Elijah’s room. Even though Ga-On laughs, he asks with the betrayal on his face: “why didn't you warn me?”. He never ate Ms. Ji’s food and has never thought that someone would add truffle oil to kimchi.

— Option three: Yo-Han.

Let me explain this one. Yo-Han does cook. Maybe not that often, not for everyone but the fact remains: he cooks.

We see a hint to it in episode five when he comes home and asks if there’s something to eat, and Butler already wants to count on the ingredients when Yo-Han stops him, asking if there’s something to heat up and eat.

Another hint is the bottle with pasta in the kitchen. It got almost empty with the difference in just two episodes (from episode four to the beginning of episode six). Ga-On didn't cook anything with pasta for Elijah as an apology, nor did he cook something with pasta for Yo-Han.

And the way how Ga-On sighs and says “let’s eat like normal people,” when he made that breakfast makes sense since Yo-Han thinks he doesn't know the taste of food, so Ga-On’s meals probably weren't that delicious... but they still were made with love.

Bonus: ...are we really talking about kimchi here?

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Four (Harry Styles)

a/n: happy TLABL day!! can’t believe we are already on part 4! im not sure if part 5 will be the last part, im still very much writing the rest so we’ll see! thank you so much for all the love you’ve been showing the series, i love reading your reactions! feedback is very much appreciated this time as well!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

You wake up feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck or at least consumed a whole bottle of tequila. Your head is pounding and it’s probably with all the crying and stress, so you are quick to take some pills to ease the pain. Sitting on the edge of your bed you stare ahead of you blankly, trying to gain power to start the day.

Though today is Sunday, so you are not working, you’re still worried to face Harry after whatever it was that happened last night. What were you thinking, kissing your boss out of the blue? And what was he thinking kissing you for the second time? It kind of feels like a dream, but you know it really did happen.

You try to stay in your room as long as possible, avoiding to face Harry, but soon enough you can’t postpone it any longer, because you are starving. Peeking out of your room you hear voices coming from downstairs and as you reach the stairs you recognize not just Harry’s and Izzy’s voice, but Niall’s as well.

Arriving downstairs you see Niall and Izzy sitting on the stools at the kitchen island while Harry is cleaning the dishes after their breakfast probably. He is wearing a pair of light-washed jeans and a black hoodie, the sleeves bunched around his elbows. He looks so casual and yet just looking at him makes your heart skip a beat. You are in some big trouble.

Niall spots you first and he perks up waving in your way happily.

“Good morning, Y/N!” he beams, his accent sounds so comforting in such a stressful moment, for some reason.

“Hi, good morning,” you breathe out. Harry turns around, his eyes fall on you and a shiver runs down your spine. He just looked at you and you already want to run away and hide in your room a little longer.

“Morning,” he greets you with a nod before turning back to the sink to finish the dishes.

“Daddy and Uncle Niall are taking me to the park! We are picking Yara up too!” Izzy shares the news with you excitedly.

“Oh, that sounds great!” you smile at her, giving her cheek a gentle pinch before moving to the fridge.

“Do you want to come?” she invites you and your eyes immediately flicker over to Harry who looks at you the exact same time, making your stomach drop right away.

“Um, I have some work to do, maybe some other time,” you smile at Izzy, grabbing yourself a yoghurt and a banana before shutting the fridge closed.

“So how was yesterday?” Niall asks and you freeze. Does he know what happened? Did Harry tell him about last night?

Niall sees your frightened look to which he shoots you a confused one.

“The wedding, Harry told me earlier you had a wedding yesterday.”

“Oh, it went… fine,” you nod shortly, peeking at Harry who is now staring down at his feet awkwardly. This was starting to get painfully ridiculous, the two of you dancing around each other, pretending like you weren’t down each other’s throats just a few hours prior.

“Alright, let’s leave, we need to pick Yara up in twenty,” Harry claps his hands. Izzy jumps off the stool and takes Niall’s hand as they all head out of the house. “We’ll probably have lunch somewhere and then go grocery shopping, so we’ll be away for a while,” he informs you without looking your way before leaving without even waiting for any reaction from you.

Yeah, this was straight up the most awkward conversation you’ve had in a long time.

“Here, Izzy. Play some games on my phone!” Niall passes his phone to her with a sweet smile, but Harry smacks his bicep.

“What are you doing? She has enough screen time already!”

“Yeah, but I needed her to be busy so I can ask you what the fuck was that in the house.”

Harry curls his lips into his mouth, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him as he tries to come up with a good answer, but he knows he could never fool his best friend.

“Don’t stop, even if she is busy with the phone,” Harry scolds him, glancing at Izzy through the mirror, but she doesn’t seem to be listening to them. Niall rolls his eyes, but lets his words uncommented. “Besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Oh, you exactly know it. You and Y/N were like scared little bunnies around each other. She looked like she was about to faint any moment when you looked at her.”

“Maybe she was just tired,” he shrugs, but Niall laughs at his weak attempt to fool him.

“Now tell me the real reason, I know something happened.”

Harry chews on his bottom lip, debating whether he should come clean or not, but he knows Niall won’t leave him until he finally tells him so he is not left with many choices.

“We kissed.”

“What?!” Niall snaps, a little louder than Harry expected, his voice makes him flinch. “Sorry, that was a little too dramatic, but what the fuck? Why were you keeping this from me?!”

“Because I knew this is how you’d react,” Harry mumbles under his breath. “And… I don’t think it will ever happen again.”

“What do you mean?”

“The whole thing was a mess,” Harry sighs. “She came home late, pretty upset because she met with her ex at the wedding.”

“The one that cheated on her?”

“Mhm. The dude was an asshole and… she was crying in the kitchen when I came down. We sat on the couch, talked, I tried to calm her down and all that and then… she kissed me.”

“Wait, she kissed you? Wow, she’s got balls!” Niall laughs.

“Yeah, but it was, like, really short and she pulled back, shocked at herself for doing it. I think it was just all the emotions that got her a little confused. But then she tried to apologize and… and I kissed her.”

“What?! Oh my God!” Niall’s mind is blown and he doesn’t even tries to hide his excitement hearing the news about last night. “Was there tongue?”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry scowls. “I’m not sharing the details with you.”

“Okay, but was it like a solid, short kiss or you guys went right at it?”

Harry doesn’t answer, but it tells enough about the situation and Niall can’t help but whistle as he claps his hands.

“Stop acting like a horny teenager, Niall,” Harry growls rolling his eyes at his friend.

“So you guys snogged, what’s the matter with that?”

“It got awkward. We just pulled back and I think we both were pretty shocked about it and… she just stood up and said that she is going to bed. End of story. And then you were there in the morning, so… yeah.”

“Tell me why the hell we are heading to a playdate then when you should be talking to her?” Niall asks, arching an eyebrow at Harry.

“There’s not much to talk about. It just happened in the heat of the moment, that’s all,” Harry shrugs, but deep down he knows it’s a blatant lie. At least on his side.

Unlike you, who fell asleep right away, Harry spent about an hour lying in his bed wide awake, not able to think about anything else but your lips on his. He replayed the whole thing in his head about a million times, he was starting to feel ashamed of it, but he just couldn’t stop.

Your abrupt leaving left him puzzled and he thought long and hard about why you felt the need to run away. The only thing that made sense to him is that you regretted it the moment it happened, that it really did just happen in the heat of the moment so Harry thought it’s best to act like it didn’t even happen.

“Please don’t be an ass and just… talk to her. We both know we can never know for sure what a woman thinks about. You can’t just assume and think that your assumption is one hundred percent right.”

“I find it funny that you’re such an expert in this stuff, but you haven’t had a stable relationship since like, we finished college,” Harry scoffs as he takes the corner and starts driving down the street to Yara’s moms’ house.

“Me not having a relationship doesn’t mean that I’m not good at them. It’s a choice,” Niall smirks.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“But back to the topic, you wanted to kiss her, right?”

“I mean, yeah? It kinda threw me off as well, but it was… nice.”

“Please don’t refer to a kiss as nice again,” Niall gags, but Harry just chuckles at him. “A kiss is hot, passionate, pant tighteni—“

“Okay, that’s enough!” Harry cuts him, earning a cackle from him.

“Just talk to her, don’t be a pussy.”

“I really do need better friends,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he pulls up to the driveway.

You really didn’t feel like staying home alone in that big ass house so you invited yourself over for an early dinner to your mom’s. You haven’t been over since the little fiasco with Trevor so you thought it might be a good idea to spend some time with them. Trevor said they’ve been trying to keep the fighting down to the minimum and not let it turn into a screaming match, so your speech worked after all.

It’s past three o’clock when you leave, no sign of Harry or Izzy and you feel like they won’t be back for a while either, so you lock everything up and head out.

You have a genuinely good time. It’s obvious that your mom feels guilty about her past behavior and is trying to lure you into forgiving her, though you already did that. But you’re happy your little speech worked. At least Trevor can have his peace now.

After dinner your mom disappears in her room and then returns with a nicely wrapped box and you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Mom, I told you I don’t need gifts.” You give her a look. Your birthday is coming up next week, but you were never the kind to celebrate. You never felt comfortable with all the attention and fuss birthdays come with, so you’ve always liked to keep it down. These past years you didn’t even ask for anything, though your parents never listened and this year doesn’t seem like an exception either.

“Oh hush. You can’t expect me not to celebrate my baby!” she shakes her head, sitting back to the dining table. “And besides, I didn’t pay a dollar for it,” she then adds and now you’re curious what she got you.

Removing the lid of the box you peek inside and your lips immediately part as you see the stack of polaroids inside.

“I know how much you like old photos and when we sold Grandma’s house back in August, I found these in my old room. I got a polaroid camera for graduation, just in time to take tons of pictures of you,” she explains with a soft chuckle as you start going through the pictures from when you were born and the next few years. Whenever you are done looking at a photo you hand it to Trevor so he can take a look at them too.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep these, mom?” you ask glancing up at her over the stack.

“I took out a few for myself,” she admits with a sneaky smile. “You can have the rest, I know how much you love these stuff.”

“Thank you, mom,” you smile at her, hugging her from the side, feeling touched by this gift.

It’s nearing eight when you arrive back home, the lights are still up and if you had to guess you’d say that Harry is trying to tire Izzy out enough to put to bed, as usual. Walking in, your guess is proven right, the TV is on in the living room while Harry is sitting on the couch, Izzy all over him in her pink pajamas, playing around with his hair like she always does.

“Hi Y/N!” she calls out happily when she spots you.

“Hi Sunshine, did you have a good time today?” you ask with a soft smile.

“I did! And guess what!”

“What?”

“Yara invited me over for a sleepover!” she beams, clearly ecstatic about the invitation.

“That’s amazing!”

“What’s that?” she curiously asks pointing at the gift box in your hands. Harry turns to see you, his eyes falling on the box as well.

“Oh, it’s a gift I got from my mom,” you explain, stepping closer.

“Is it your birthday?” she questions, knitting her eyebrows together.

“No, not yet. But it will be next week,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Really? Are you having a birthday party?” she gasps, getting way too excited already. Harry eyes you without a word, holding Izzy by her hips so she is not losing her balance standing on the cushion of the couch.

“I’m not, sorry. I don’t like having birthday parties,” you pout at her apologetically.

“Oh, okay. Can I see what you got from your mom?”

“Izzy, don’t be nosy,” Harry warns her, but you just smile at the curious girl.

“Sure,” you nod, joining them on the couch. You sit on the opposite end than where Harry is, Izzy in the middle as she watches the box in awe. You set it down to the cushion and take the lid off, revealing the stack of photos.

“What are these?”

“They are called polaroids. They are old pictures, taken with a special camera that kind of prints the picture out right away,” you explain to her as she takes the first photo from the top, a picture of your mom holding you as a newborn. She was so young, practically a child herself, yet her pride was undeniable, it shone all over her face. You spot Harry looking at the picture as well over Izzy’s shoulder, still keeping his silence.

“Who are these people?”

“That’s my mom and that’s me as a baby. And… this is my dad,” you hold up another photo that features your dad.

“They really were young when they had you,” Harry speaks up for the first time, surprised by the photos.

“Yeah, they were.”

“What are you going to do with them?” Izzy questions, dropping the photo back into the box as she leans back to lie on Harry’s chest.

“Not sure yet. I might make an album from them,” you shrug. “I really like polaroids, I love that they are one of a kind.”

Izzy nods, though you’re not sure she understood what you meant by that. Fidgeting with her fingers she pushes down a yawn and Harry takes that as a good sign.

“Alright, time for bed, Love. Say good night to Y/N.” He picks her up as he stands from the couch. Izzy waves at you smiling with tired eyes.

“Night-night, Y/N,” she singsongs as Harry carries her towards the stairs.

Putting the pictures back into the box you head into your bedroom too, feeling like the time when you and Harry talk about what happened yesterday will never come. It’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, so you’ll just let it slip. It happened just in the heat of the moment, didn’t mean a thing, you better forget about it.

After a speedy shower you are getting ready to just go to bed, read some and have a relaxing evening, something you didn’t have the luck to have the day before. But right as you’re about to make yourself comfortable in bed, there’s a knock on your door.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you open it and find Harry standing in the hallway.

“I hope you weren’t sleeping already.”

“No. Come on in,” you invite him inside and he walks in. As he awkwardly stops in the middle of the room you realize he hasn’t even been in here since you’ve moved in. He takes a look around, examining what you’ve done with the room and you feel thankful you decided to put your laundry away just yesterday, so no dirty underwear is littering the floor anywhere.

“How can I help you?” you ask with a soft smile.

“I, erm… I just wanted to clear some things,” he starts, clearly feeling nervous about the conversation and that makes the two of you for sure. Nodding you let him know that you’re waiting for him to carry on. “What happened yesterday…” he starts and your breath gets caught in your throat. “You were very emotional, a lot happened and it was a very confusing moment probably for the both of us. I really like working with you, I’m very happy with the way you’ve been taking care of Izzy and I would hate to ruin it with anything.”

You can feel your stomach dropping even though you were bracing yourself for this version of the situation. It was very likely that Harry would want to keep things professional, like before, but it still makes you feel like shit.

“I’m sorry for stepping over some boundaries, but I really hope that… we can put it behind us and that we can move on.”

He is using his business tone. It’s the same tone he used with Sarah and his assistants and now he is using it to talk about the kiss that happened between the two of you.

“Sure,” you answer quietly nodding. “Moving on sounds… great,” you nod, forcing a smile to your face, but it couldn’t be more fake.

Harry nods as he runs his tongue over his lips, looking around a little awkwardly now that it’s been discussed.

“Alright, then… good night, Y/N,” he nods in your way before heading towards the door.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble after him as he walks out and closes the door behind him.

As soon as you are on your own, you let out a shaky breath, falling to your bed, lips trembling as you try to even make out what you’re feeling. Because part of you is glad he didn’t make a fuss about it and you didn’t lose your job, that’s great news. But another part, which is vehemently bigger than the first one is upset and sad and… disappointed?

You were hoping it meant something for him, you wanted him to want it, to feel the same craving for you as you feel towards him, because you haven’t really stopped thinking about what his lips felt like against yours, what it was like when his fingers dug into your thigh, how it sent a shiver down your spine when his tongue met yours.

But this conversation just made it awfully clear that he wants nothing to do with you. And it hurts probably more than it should.

Harry doesn’t get too far from your door when he feels the all too familiar pain in his chest he has been forced to live with these past over three years. It’s like something is gripping his heart and lungs in his chest so tight, even breathing is a hard task.

Rushing into his bedroom he closes the door behind him and slides down to the floor as the tears flood from his eyes. The past twenty-four hours have been rough on him, the guilt has been growing immensely since he let himself slip and give in for his desires and eventually kiss you.

It’s not that he didn’t want it. Because he’d be lying if he said it meant nothing to him and that he hasn’t been craving it these past weeks.

But his guilt, this evil little voice in the back of his head wouldn’t let him enjoy it even the slightest.

How dare you kiss another woman after your wife? Are you insane? You don’t deserve to feel this way with anyone else. Not when you were the reason your wife ended up dead!

Heartbreaking sobs escape from his chest as he pushes himself up from the floor and heads into the bathroom. He strips out of his clothes leaving them all in a pile on the marble tiled floor before he steps into the shower and lets the hot water pour down on him, almost burning his skin, but he doesn’t change the temperature, as if he was trying to punish himself. His salty tears mix with the water as he stands still, chest heaving as his vivid memories from that night come crashing down on him all at once.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment now? Really?” Harry sighed at his wife when she failed to answer his question about the whereabouts of his sweatpants. Maggie sat on the bed with the recent maternity book she’d been reading these past days, not even paying her husband a look at his question.

“Mags, for fuck’s sake, I’m not in the mood to play this game right now,” Harry sighed in defeat. Maggie looked up at him, closed the book slowly and put it aside to the bedside table.

“So the question of expanding our family is just a game to you?” she asked calmly, but her anger and disappointment in her husband was soaking through her tone.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“No, you are not talking about anything, because you refuse to have a fucking conversation with me!” she retorted, letting all her bottled up anger out that’d been boiling inside her.

“I already told you that I can’t think about having another baby right now. Izzy is only six, I’m in the middle of a huge project, I don’t have the capacity to think about having another baby, Maggie. I thought I made it clear, why are you still onto me then?”

“Because it’s not something we can put aside for too long! I don’t want to have another baby when I’m in my mid-thirties, but if we go with your plan, we won’t even have another one!” Maggie jumped to her feet, pacing the floor back and forth next to their bed as Harry stood with his hands on his hips, getting irritated that they were fighting over the same thing again.

“I never said we can’t have another baby, but why can’t we wait a little? When Izzy is older and more independent? Do you have any idea how hard it is to take care of a baby and a toddler? It’s a fucking nightmare!” Harry growled rolling his eyes.

“So our family is just a pain in the ass for you?” Maggie questioned, folding her arms on her chest and she was really getting on Harry’s nerves, twisting his words completely.

“That’s not what I said!” he snapped. “All I’m asking for is you to be a little patient and give me some time!”

“I don’t have time, Harry! I want it as soon as possible!”

“Why are you so fucking difficult?” Harry groaned, running his hands through his hair. “Why can’t you wait just… one year at least? Is that too much to ask?”

“And is it too much to ask to focus on your family? We are supposed to come first!” she turned it back around and Harry was not having the dirty games she was playing, putting all the blame on him when she could have been a little more understanding as well. He was feeling like his opinion was put aside and didn’t matter at all.

“You do come first, you don’t have the right to question that.” Harry pointed at Maggie, his blood practically boiling at this point.

“Then why do I feel like work is always more important to you?”

“What are you talking about? You know I’m home as much as I can, but we still need the fucking money, Maggie! Or how do you plan on paying the bills of this fucking mansion?!”

“I don’t need a mansion! I just need my family and that’s all!” she argued, but Harry rolled his eyes at her.

“Well you seem to enjoy this mansion a lot when you sit by the pool and watch movies in the fucking movie theater in your own home!” he snapped back feistily. “Stop acting like I don’t do shit for our family when I work my ass off to provide the best possible life. And all I’m asking for in return is some fucking time before we bring another baby into the picture!”

“You are so fucking unbelievable,” Maggie shook her head as she marched past him, walking away from the fight that just grinded his gears even more.

Just as Harry was about to go after her, he heard the faint crying through the baby monitor. Groaning he headed into Izzy’s room and as he took her out of her crib, he heard the front door open and shut.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry, did we wake you up?” he cooed, hugging the crying little girl to his chest who clung onto him immediately. Even at such a young age, Izzy was already a daddy’s little girl.

Soon her cries died down to just little hiccups as Harry soothed her, patting her bum and back gently as he moved around the room. Holding Izzy in one arm he grabbed his phone with his free hand and typed a message to his wife.

Harry: Where did you go?!

Maggie: I’m going over to my sister’s. Don’t wait up, might get home late.

Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes. She called him out for running away from the conversation, but when they were finally talking about it she just decided to disappear when it didn’t head in the direction she wanted, seeking comfort at her sister, as always.

He managed to lull Izzy back to sleep, putting her back to her crib before going back to the bedroom. As time passed by and he calmed down more and more he wished Maggie was home so they could talk about it without jumping at each other’s throat. There had to be a compromising way to solve the situation that would be fine for the both of them.

Harry: Please come home and let’s talk about it.

Maggie: So you can bite my head off again?!

Harry: Mags, please. You have to understand my point of view too!

Maggie: I understand it, but I don’t agree with it. And you don’t seem to understand mine…

Harry: I do, but there are more things to consider. Please come home, I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone!

Maggie: Okay, I’m heading home now.

Harry put his phone down to the nightstand with a long sigh, already tired from everything that happened that day and he knew this conversation would be a hard one too, but they needed to be on the same page when it came to their family.

It was late getting late and Harry grew a little more restless with each passing moment. Paisley, Maggie’s sister lived about thirty minutes away from them and it’d been forty minutes since she sent her last text. At first he figured she maybe stayed and talked for a little longer with Paisley, or stopped for some fast food which he knew she liked so much whenever she was upset, but when an entire hour passed by he was getting worried.

He kept sending her texts that didn’t even get delivered and when he tried to call it went straight to her voicemail. Harry was losing his shit so he decided to call Paisley to see if she knew anything about her.

“She hasn’t arrived home yet?” she asked, clearly surprised.

“No, and she is not answering my calls and texts. When did she leave from yours?”

“A long time ago. Almost right away when you texted her to go home.”

“Fuck,” Harry breathed out, anxiously pacing the floor as he held the phone to his ear. “Okay, can you please call your parents in case she went there for whatever reason? I’ll try her friends.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me know if you got a hold of her,” Paisley told him before they ended the call.

Harry was scrolling through his contacts, trying to decide who Maggie would go to first in this situation and just as he was about to call the first person, his phone started ringing with an unknown number.

“Hello?” he answered the call unsurely, his heart beating fast in his chest as he stood in the middle of the room.

“Mr. Harry Styles?” a male voice asked on the other end.

“Yes, it’s me. Who am I speaking to?”

“I’m Officer Field speaking. You were listed as the emergency contact for your wife, Margaret Linn Styles.”

Blood rushed out of Harry’s face faster than he could even process what was happening. He stood completely frozen, his hands were getting clammy as he started sweating as if he just ran the marathon.

“What happened?” he asked weakly, barely even finding his own voice.

“Mr. Styles, I have bad news…”

Harry makes his way down to the entertainment room, walking like a zombie, only thinking about the bottle of vodka that sits in the minibar down there. Following his skin burning shower he tried to go to bed, but his head was starting to spin from everything that’s been swirling in his mind and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it if he didn’t numb himself somehow. Unfortunately, his only way of doing it has been drinking, nothing seemed to help him the way alcohol did and though he knew he should never solve any of his problems with drinking, he still couldn’t help himself sometimes. When the pain was growing immensely, taking over his whole body, he chose the easiest way to get rid of the guilt or at least stop himself from… feeling.

Grabbing the bottle from the mini fridge he snatches himself a glass as well, not drinking straight from the bottle at least, and plopping himself down to the couch he pours a generous glass, drinking it without any chaser.

He winces as the alcohol burns down his throat, but at least it’s a different kind of pain, that takes the focus away from the one he is feeling in his chest.

One glass chases the other and since he is not particularly used to the heavy drinking, he is more like the ‘let’s nurse this pint for an hour’ type of guy, the raw vodka kicks in pretty quickly.

But he is not the only one who can’t fall asleep tonight.

You tried everything in your power to end your misery and finally fall asleep, but your mind and body was plotting against you and made you toss and turn until you couldn’t take it any longer. Making a good cup of tea seemed like a good idea, so you headed down the kitchen.

As you round the corner after the stairs and you’re about to walk into the kitchen, you notice how the lights are on down in the entertainment room. You stop in your tracks and try to think back if anyone was there before you went upstairs, but you don’t think it was the case.

You figure since there are only two adults living in the house, it must be Harry down there and right now, facing him doesn’t sound like a good idea, so you decide to leave him be, but that’s when you hear the voice of some kind of glass breaking, followed by a heavy accented cursing and it changes your mind right away.

“Harry?” you softly call out as you walk down the stairs, not sure what to expect down there. He is crouching down, his back in your direction as he is trying to get the pieces of the broken glass up from the floor, but he is too disoriented to succeed in the task and it’s obvious that an injury is deemed to happen sooner or later.

“Harry, you’re gonna cut yourself!” you warn him, and walking over to him you pull him up from his squatting position and when he looks at you is when you realize that he is drunk out of his mind.

“Y/N, oh shit, did I—Did I wake you up?” he slurs, knitting his eyebrows together as he tries to focus his vision on you.

“You didn’t, but let me just—Why don’t you sit down for a moment while I clean this up, huh?” you suggest, pulling him towards the couch, making him sit. He falls to the cushion like dead weight, letting out a tired sigh while you rush to get a broom and a dustpan to get rid of the broken glass on the floor as fast as possible before someone cuts themselves.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he breathes out closing his eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ll just clean it up quickly,” you assure him, getting down to business.

“Not about the g-glass. Well, about that as well…”

“Then why are you sorry?” you ask, as you sweep the shards onto the dustpan and throw them into the closest trashcan.

“About being… a pain in the ass,” he hiccups.

“You are not a pain in the ass,” you chuckle softly as you sit beside him.

“I am. I fucked things up,” he nods with a painful expression all over his handsome face.

“What do you mean?” You know you shouldn’t make him talk in this state, but you can’t help your curiosity. It seems like drunkenness makes his tongue run wild and you are desperate for the tiniest crumble of information about what’s going on in his head.

“I just… I kissed you,” he breathes out, his eyes popping open, but he is staring at the ceiling, not you.

“And?” you ask, trying to act cool, though your pulse is rapidly increasing.

“And I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh.” You lick your lips and try not to show how much that hurt. But even drunk, Harry notices the disappointment in your tone. His glassy eyes snap over to you and his face falls right away.

“That’s not how I mean it!” he gasps, reaching for your hand and you’re surprised by the sudden physical touch, but it feels kind of nice, so you let him hold your hand between his arm palms. “It’s not like I didn’t enjoy it, because fucking hell, it was amazing!” he bluntly tells you and you can already feel the heat crawling up your neck.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Then why did you tell me all of that in my room just earlier now?”

Harry pulls his hands back and moves his arms across his face, covering his eyes as he slides down the couch, his legs spreading out in front of him. He lets out a shaky whimper and seeing him like this worries you a lot. Harry is always in control, he has never let him fall apart like this before.

“Because… I don’t deserve to feel this way,” he confesses, confusing you even more. What is he talking about?

“Why wouldn’t you?”

He shakes his head under his arms, biting into his bottom lip as he inhales deeply, like he is trying to keep something inside, something you shouldn’t know about, but now you are desperate to find it out.

“I’m a fucking mess,” he breathes out, letting his arms fall to his sides, but he keeps his eyes closed, shutting you out in a way. “I don’t deserve to have these feelings,” he repeats again and it appears he is more likely talking to himself, rather than to you.

“Harry, what are you talking about?”

“I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you, because if I did, you’d never be able to look at me again.”

Now he is crying. Tears are rolling down his cheeks and his lips are trembling and you’ve never seen him in such a vulnerable state and quite frankly, it scares you. You knew him to be a strong and stable man, but now he resembles a frightened little boy, so lost in this big world.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not that bad, Harry.”

“It is,” he winces, as if it’s causing him physical pain to even talk about it.

“Harry…” You breathe out and moving closer you place a hand on his knee, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He turns to face you, his eyes all watered and glistening, he looks so heartbroken, it almost pains you as well.

“Promise me you won’t see me as a monster,” he whispers.

“I-I promise,” you nod, already bearing yourself for the worst, judging from the look on his face.

Taking a deep breath he looks around, as if he is making sure no one else is listening. Then his eyes fall down to his hands in his lap, he fidgets with his fingers, his tongue running along his pink lips before he takes a deep breath and speaks up again.

“Maggie’s death… It was all my fault. I fucking… killed my own wife.”

His voice dies down at the end of the sentence, staring into the void, completely zoned out as you sit beside him, shocked at his words. This was not exactly what you were expecting him to say. Harry starts sobbing again, the hot tears running down his cheeks as he starts crying and panic sets in you. He is so out of his own world, you have no idea what’s happening to him. Rushing over to the mini fridge, you grab a water for him, thinking it might help him at least after all the alcohol he has consumed.

“Here, drink some water,” you softly tell him, taking the cap off as you hand him the bottle. He takes it with a shaky hand and raising it to his trembling lips he takes a few small sips. “Harry, what do you mean it was your fault?” you ask, knowing well you probably shouldn’t push it, but you can’t just ignore what he said.

“Exactly what I said,” he sobs shaking his head vigorously. “It was all my fault, I was a fucking coward and that’s why she died! I could have stopped her! I should have gone after her!”

He is not answering you, not entirely. He is speaking thoughts that have been planted in his head a long time ago and they seem to be on repeat whenever he is feeling down. As much as you want to get more details out of him, he needs to rest, especially because he is working in the morning.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed, H,” you tell him as you stand up and reach out for him to help him to his unsteady feet. It turns out to be a little harder than you expected, but you manage to get him up from his sitting position, and throwing one of his arms over your shoulders you start to walk him up towards his bedroom.

“You fucking hate me now, don’t you?” he slurs, his other hand reaching out towards the wall to steady himself a little more.

“I don’t hate you, Harry.”

“But you think I’m a monster, right?”

“I’m not sure I know enough to think anything about you. This is a conversation we should have when you’re sober,” you suggest and he huffs.

“M’sorry for getting drunk in the middle of the night.”

“It’s alright. But I think you’ll have a mean headache in the morning,” you tease him as you finally reach the upstairs and head down the hallway towards his room.

“You’re a fucking angel, Y/N. You know that?” He just keeps talking and talking and you find it funny how different he is from his reserved and quiet self in this state.

“Am I?”

“Yeah. You are. You are so good to my daughter and to me as well… I really don’t get why your fucker ex cheated on you,” he huffs and you can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips. “What was his name? Kyle?”

“Keith,” you correct him.

“That fucker, Keith!” he spats making you laugh as you push his bedroom’s door open and walk him inside finally. “I bet he had a small dick.”

“Why does that matter,” you chuckle, making him sit on the edge of the bed.

“Because guys with small dicks are always out of touch with themselves. They think they are just better than everyone for some reason.”

“Do you have any scientific research to prove that?” you tease him as you push him down, tugging him under the covers, like a little kid.

“No, I just… know shit,” he sighs, his eyes falling closed the moment his head rests on the pillow.

“Alright. You can tell me more about what else you know when you’re sober. Now get some sleep, because you have work in the morning.”

You make sure he lies on his side as he hums his response. Reaching down you brush his messy curls out of his forehead as he breathes out harshly through his nose, probably about to fall asleep any moment.

Tapping on the screen of his phone on the nightstand you make sure that he has set up his alarm and you see the little alarm clock icon at the top bar so you are just about to walk out when you turn back around.

Seeing how he pushed so many things down inside of him, you’re not convinced he’ll be willing to give you the answers you are looking for. You’re afraid he might talk himself out and give you some kind of bullshit answer, so reaching for his phone you sneakily take his thumb and open the device, all whilst he doesn’t even move an inch.

Scrolling through his contacts you find Niall’s number and send it over to yourself before deleting the message so you leave no trail behind. You set the phone back to his nightstand and head out finally, going to bed as well, right after sending Niall a quick message.

Y/N: Hi! It’s Y/N, I got your number from Harry’s phone. Can you come by sometime tomorrow? I need to talk to you about something.

When you come down in the morning it’s pretty obvious that even though Harry had his alarm on, he snoozed one too many times and now he is in a rush, trying to get everything done and leave on time.

“Good morning,” you greet him and Izzy upon walking into the kitchen. Harry’s head snaps up from the half-made breakfast in front of him and judging by his expression, he more or less remembers what happened last night. “Rough morning?” you ask teasing him to ease the tension.

“Uh, yeah. Woke up a little late,” he nods, finishing up Izzy’s sandwich just the way she likes, without the crust on before handing it over to her. Izzy grabs the plate and marches over to the dining table, quietly munching on her food while Harry quickly tries to make himself a coffee, but he is a hot mess, still in his night clothes when he is supposed to leave in about ten minutes.

“I’ll make you the coffee, go and get changed,” you offer, taking over the machine.

“Oh, thank you,” he nods and for a change, he doesn’t try to argue with you, he just disappears upstairs.

You make his coffee just as he likes and leave it on the counter for him before joining Izzy at the table with your own breakfast. She is babbling about how excited she is for her piano lesson today, because she’s been practicing a lot lately. When Harry appears again he is dressed for work, but still looks a little disoriented.

“Hey,” you softly say as you join him in the kitchen.

“Hey, thank you for the coffee,” he nods, moving around the kitchen.

“No problem. How are you feeling?” you ask, hoping you’re not crossing any boundaries. Harry opens his mouth to answer, but then closes, probably not sure how much he should share, though he didn’t have too much problem with that last night.

“I’m… A little hangover, but I’m… fine,” he nods shortly. “Y/N, about last night, I—“

“We can talk about it later, okay? Don’t stress about it.” You give him a reassuring smile and you can tell he is sort of relieved he doesn’t have to have this conversation right in this moment.

“Thank you.”

“No worries. And I’ll clean up in the kitchen, don’t be late,” you smile at him warmly. You can tell he wants to protest, but he also knows he is running late so he doesn’t have much choice.

“Thank you, I’ll… see you later.”

Storming over to Izzy he presses a kiss to her forehead before grabbing all his stuff and leaving.

Niall texts you back not long after breakfast that he is free to drop by when Izzy is having her piano lesson. You carry on with the morning as usual, trying your best not to dwell on everything that happened last night.

Just as Rosaline and Izzy get settled for the lesson you hear a car pulling up outside and a few moments later the doorbell rings through the house.

“Let’s get one thing straight, is it a booty call?” Niall questions right away as you let him inside.

“It’s good to see you again,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“So no sex is gonna be involved?” he smirks and you know he is just teasing you.

“No, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, you can never disappoint me, darling,” he winks at you before walking into the kitchen to serve himself a drink. “So why did you need to see me so desperately?”

“Well, I know I shouldn’t be discussing this with you first, but I feel like I need to know some basic information that Harry might not give me so I thought you could help me out.” Niall nods as he pours himself some soda and joins you at the kitchen island, sitting on the stool next to you. “I uhh—I need to ask how much Harry shared with you about… about me—and, um what—“

“Save the stuttering, I know you two kissed,” Niall cuts you off and you breathe out in relief that you don’t have to be the one breaking him the news.

“Oh, okay,” you nod with an awkward smile. “Yeah, so that happened. And last night he and I had this conversation how we should just keep our relationship professional and all that. We both went our own way but then later I found Harry down in the entertainment room, drunk and basically having a meltdown of some sort.”

“How drunk was he?” Niall asks, knitting his eyebrows together.

“Pretty drunk. He broke a glass and he was… crying and talking about a lot of stuff.” Niall takes your words in as he inhales deeply, just nodding for you to continue. “He started telling me how sorry he was for fucking things up and he was a mess, like a huge fucking mess. Then he told me about how he shouldn’t be feeling the way he does, because he doesn’t deserve it…”

“Jesus…” Niall shakes his head, probably already knowing where this is heading.

“And then he told me that his wife’s death was his fault. That was… pretty intense.”

“I can imagine.”

“I know I have to talk to him about it, but I’m really afraid he might shake it off, but it seems like he is having some serious issues and I wouldn’t want things to get out of hands. That’s why I thought I would talk to you, maybe you know what to do or how to approach him with such a sensitive subject.”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s nice of you for being so considerate,” Niall nods, scratching his chin. “Alright, I’ll tell you what I know, but please also let him tell you if he decides to share it with you.” You nod and turn all your attention to him. “I didn’t find this out until about two months after Maggie’s death, but apparently, the night she died they had a fight. Maggie had been nagging Harry to have another baby, but he wanted to wait a little longer, until Izzy is older so they don’t have two babies at the same time. Harry said they had another big fight about it, said some pretty nasty things to each other before Maggie just stormed out to go over to her sister’s. She made it there, but… never made it back home.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of how devastating it must have been, losing your partner after an intense fight without ever making up.

“Understandably, Harry completely lost his shit. For weeks he was barely functioning and we all knew he was grieving, but we didn’t know that he was blaming himself for what happened. When he wasn’t getting any better we somehow convinced him to go to therapy which luckily helped him immensely, but he stopped going a while ago. I thought he got things straight in his head about this whole Maggie situation, but I guess he is still hung up on that.”

“What about the drinking, did that happen a lot?”

“Not that I know of. I mean, yeah, he got wasted quite a few times, but only at the beginning. I don’t think you should be afraid that he might turn into an alcoholic. I think he is just really struggling right now because of the conflict he is having because of you.”

“Because of me?”

“Yeah, he is clearly very confused about his feelings for you and he has convinced himself he shouldn’t feel this way towards anyone ever, but then you came,” he chuckles softly giving you a knowing look.

“Niall, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you breathe out, worry and fear slowly taking over your judgment.

“First and foremost just… be patient with him, okay? This is genuinely the first time he has taken an interest in anyone since Maggie and I think he has already taken some big steps, which is a good sign. Try to talk to him and be open, but don’t push him. I know it can be really annoying when he keeps things, but let him tell you everything at his own pace.”

You nod, understanding the importance of not rushing Harry into anything. Just because you want to get over the awkwardness of the current situation, you can’t push him over his own boundaries.

“Okay, I’ll try to do that,” you nod taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Niall.”

“Oh, and don’t let him give you the ‘you work for me, we shouldn’t be doing this’ bullshit alright? He’ll try to make it out to be some kind of business, but it’s not. He needs to get himself out there and I genuinely think you’re the right person to help him with that.”

His words touch you and you’re not even sure how to react. Niall is clearly someone who stands close to Harry and if he thinks that you and him should give it a try, that must mean something. You can only hope that Harry will come around and think the same at one point.

Izzy gets a little fussy by the end of the day and it takes a lot of persuading to get her to bed in the evening. Harry arrived back home on his usual time and because it’s been such a hot day outside, he took her out to the pool. The problem with that is that Izzy never wants to get out of the water, so when Harry said it’s time for dinner she threw a bit of a tantrum as Harry brought her inside and her mood didn’t get any better later either.

You spent most of your night in the living room just watching TV and working on your laptop, updating your schedule for the upcoming weeks and doing some editing. Harry stays upstairs with Izzy for a long time when her bedtime comes and you figure she is still a little moody, but then you eventually hear his footsteps approaching. Harry pads his way into the living room and joins you on the couch. When you glance over at him you know he is trying to find a way to start the conversation you both know you need to have, so you put your laptop aside and turn your attention towards him.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry about last night. I’m honestly so terribly ashamed you had to… see me like that,” he starts, clearly nervous to bring it all up.

“It’s fine, happens to everyone,” you assure him and it’s the genuine truth.

“It’s not a regular occurrence, really. I usually know my limits and try to stay within them. I’m really sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“Harry, don’t worry about it,” you tell him again with a warm smile. “We can get past it. I think what we really should talk about is… what you said. Do you remember what we talked about?” you carefully ask.

“I do…” he nods, awkward diverting his eyes away from you. “I’m sorry I told you all that in that state, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to just pour it all on you so suddenly.”

“It’s alright.” “No, it’s not,” he protests shaking his head. “I dropped a bomb on you because I couldn’t deal with my own problems the right way, and it’s not okay. So please, just… accept my apology.”

“Okay, I accept it,” you nod.

“And about the whole thing with… What I told you about Maggie…”

“Just know that you don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to. I’m happy to listen whenever you are ready to, but I’m not trying to push you.”

“I know and thank you for that, but I feel like… I owe you an explanation,” he admits and you nod, happy that he is willing to talk instead of closing himself off entirely. “The day Maggie died, we got into this huge fight and she ran off to her sister. It was… a whole mess, we both said things we clearly didn’t mean and I texted her, tried to get her to come home so we could talk things out. That’s when… she was on her way home when it happened and… I still feel like it was my fault.” His voice dies down at the end, just like it did last night when he was talking about her. It clearly left a deep scar on him that’s still not entirely healed and you can’t blame him.

“Everyone keeps telling me that it wasn’t, that it was just all one big coincidence, but all I can think about is that she would still be here if we didn’t get into the fight and I didn’t piss her off so much she felt the need to leave.”

“There was no way for you to see what would happen, Harry. It’s not like you did it on purpose, you had no power over the drunk driver or where Maggie chose to drive home. It really was a coincidence.”

“I know, I mean… I understand, but somehow, my mind keeps telling me that it was my fault.”

“Have you thought about… getting professional help?” you ask, trying to be polite and cautious on the topic.

“Actually, I just called my therapist today to see if… she can fit me in for some sessions,” he admits and you’re surprised at how great he is dealing with the matter. “I feel like I might need some guidance again, before things get out of my hands.”

“That’s great! It really is good to go a bit ahead of problems.”

“Yeah. About us…” he exhales nervously, his eyes meeting yours and you can tell this is the part that’s got him the most anxious. You take this as your queue to take over the conversation.

“Harry, I’m going to be honest with you,” you start and he nods, chewing on his bottom lip. “I… I have feelings for you. You haven’t been the only one making realizations,” you add with a soft chuckle, that brings a smile to his lips as well. “I know that the situation is not quite ideal, but it’s not impossible. But I just want you to be honest with me, do you have feelings for me?”

The conflict is clearer than daylight in his eyes as he is trying to figure out what to say and you really hope he isn’t gonna try to mask his feelings.

“I do,” he then admits and it’s like a giant rock has been lifted off your chest and shoulders. “It’s just… I’m not sure how to deal with it.”

“That’s alright,” you tell him. “Let’s just… take it slow. We’re not in a rush, we obviously have a lot to figure out and that’s completely fine. The pace is completely up to you, I know that you need to get a lot of things straight in your head and I can wait, okay? I’m not going anywhere, I really like where we are now and… I just hope that we can move this forward whenever you feel comfortable with it.”

Harry stares back at you for a moment like you’re some alien creature. Like what you just said wasn’t normal or even human and that’s quite heartbreaking, because somewhere along the way he managed to convince himself that he is not worthy of the most basic decency.

“I-I can’t ask you to wait around while I figure my shit out, that’s not—“

“You’re not asking me, Harry,” you smile at him softly. “This is my decision.”

His eyes are shifting between yours and he is most likely looking for any sign of doubt or qualm, but there’s none, you genuinely meant everything you said.

“So, where does this leave us?” he then asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“Everything goes on like it used to and… whenever you are ready to take a step, just… let me know.”

You can tell he is filled with questions, but he just nods with a weak smile and leaves it at that. This will be a bumpy ride, but at least you are more or less on the same page now.

You haven’t been a big fan of birthday celebrations. You just never understood the big fuss about it, throwing a party for surviving another year? Seems a little weird. This is why you never treated this day any different.

The morning starts off as usual, only that you wake up to a few texts from friends and family, wishing you a happy birthday. Your mom has sent you a whole damn paragraph about how you made her life complete and it wouldn’t be the same without you in it. She does that every time, gets a little too sentimental about it, but you guess it’s because it reminds her of getting old herself as well, which is a sensitive topic in her book these days.

It’s a Sunday, so a day off for you. Coming downstairs you find Izzy and Harry sitting at the dining table, already having their breakfast as usual, but when she sees you, she jumps in her seat in excitement.

“Good morning, Y/N!” she beams with a wide smile, buzzing more than she usually does.

“Morning, Sunshine. Slept well?” you ask as you pour yourself some cereal and join them at the table. Izzy nods and then peeks at her father as if she is trying to hide something with him from you.

“Daddy, can we do it now?” she asks in a whisper, but it’s not quiet enough for you to not hear it.

Your eyes lock with Harry’s over the table and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing around right away when you see the tiny smirk tugging on his lips.

It’s been almost an entire week since your conversation with him and things finally seem to get in place for now. Harry had his first session with his therapist on Wednesday and though you can tell he is still trying to find his own boundaries, he doesn’t worry as much about the situation as he probably did before. He isn’t walking on eggshells around you, unsure how to act. More or less it’s the same as it was before the kiss, but there are tiny little things that still make it different. Stolen glances, lingering touches and sweet smiles are making your days more colorful now and it’s gotten you all giddy and… happy.

“What are you two plotting, huh?” you ask, pointing at them with your spoon before digging into the cereal. Izzy glances at Harry one last time and when he nods shortly, she turns to you and throws her arms in the air.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” she cheers as Harry reaches over to the chair next to him and pulls up a box from under the table, handing it over to Izzy so she could give it to you. “This is for you!”

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything!” you gasp, truly surprised by the gift. You were not expecting it at all.

“It’s not a birthday without gifts!” she giggles excitedly as she hands the box over. You push your cereal bowl to the side and set the gift to the table in front of you. “Open it!” she urges you, her little hands curled into fists as she watches your every move, as if it was her who just got a present.

Your eyes meet Harry’s green ones over the table once more and he is watching you with a small smile, probably enjoying that he could surprise you.

You pull on the bow on the top and then carefully take the wrapping paper off until the box is revealed underneath and you gas as soon as you realize what this is.

“Oh my God!” you breathe out in disbelief as you take a better look at the gift. Harry didn’t just get you something, he actually listened to what you were saying and remembered that you’re a big fan of oldschool cameras and you have a special love for polaroids. And now, in front of you in the box is your very own polaroid camera, something you’ve been really wanting to buy for yourself for a long time, but you just never got around to actually do it.

“Do you like it? Daddy said you’d really like it!” Izzy asks with big eyes, watching your reaction.

“Oh, I love it!” you breathe out, feeling all mushy and melted from the gesture. Izzy climbs over to your lap, hugging your neck. You wrap your arms around her in a bone crushing hug and you’re so thankful for having them both in your life.

Izzy sits on your lap as you get the camera out of the box and figure out how to work it. She then hops off your lap and poses for the first ever picture taken with your new favorite camera.

“But it’s blank!” she furrows her eyebrows when the photo comes out.

“Because you have to wait for it to develop. It’ll show up in a few minutes,” you smile, setting the photo down on the table.

Izzy sits in her seat, excitedly waiting for the photo to develop and in the meanwhile you join Harry in the kitchen where he is washing the dishes. He spots you and turns the tap off, turning to face you as he dries his hands off.

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” you tell him softly, but really feel touched by the gesture.

“No, but I wanted to. Do you really like it?”

“I love it!” you chuckle in disbelief. How could he think you wouldn’t like it?!

You move forward, aiming for a hug out of instinct but then stop yourself, not wanting to cross any boundaries, but Harry notices the motion and for your surprise, he wraps you in a warm hug on his own. You melt against his hard chest, your nose buried into his shoulder as your arms circle around his waist.

When you lean back, you both keep your arms around each other, eyes meeting and you realize just how close you are to each other. Without even knowing, your gaze flickers down to his lips and you’re dying to kiss him, to feel them again, but you don’t move, wanting to keep your word about letting him set the pace.

But what you didn’t expect is Harry leaning down and capturing your lips in a sweet, innocent kiss. It’s so different from the last time, that was a hot mess, but this one… this is light as a feather but still makes your stomach somersault as you taste his lips, cupping his face in your hands.

“Daddy! I’m thirsty!” Izzy calls out from outside and it kind of ends the moment. Harry pulls back and when you look at him you see that his eyes are still closed. They flutter open a moment later, finding your gaze and you look for any kind of regret or fear in them, but they are nothing but shiny.

“Just a moment, baby!” he answers her, a small smile tugging on his lips as he leans down and pecks the corner of your mouth again before his hands fall from your waist. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he breathes out before grabbing a bottled water and heading back to Izzy.

You bring your fingertips to your tingling lips as you take a moment to really process what just happened and you can’t push down the smile that spreads across your face. Harry finally took the first step and now you can’t wait to see what’s coming next.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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luvyanfei · 3 years

Text

anon said. how about fluffy hcs with xiao, zhongli and xingqui taking their s/o out on a first date?

XIAO.

he already finds it difficult just to ask you to hold him without losing his cool, so how can he possibly bring up the idea of inviting you on a date? actually, he probably never knew the word ‘date’ even existed until he heard a passing couple staying over at wangshu inn dreamily talking about how they wish they could go to see the lantern rite festival in liyue harbor together for their first date. a first date, huh? now that he thinks about it, xiao never did properly try to court you, did he? it was always you who approached him first, who held your hand out to him, who confessed that you love him. you’re already giving so much dedication in this relationship. it’s the least he can do to return your affections, not just because he’s feeling a bit indebted, but because he’s your lover. unfortunately, being the awkward yaksha that he is, xiao overthinks the situation and complicates it more than he should.

every chance he gets is blown up by his anxiousness. whenever you come and visit him at the inn, you almost think that he’s angry with you from the way he throws you vicious glares. unbeknownst to you, xiao is actually making that tense face because he’s trying very hard, too hard in fact, to think of the best way to ask you out on a date and seeing you just makes him all the more nervous. he regrets it every time you step into the elevator while giving him a goodbye wave and saying you’ll come visit again. sure, he gets another chance to try and ask you out again, but he also has another chance to fail as well.

when you visit him for lunch, xiao quickly rehearses the words he wants to say to you in the back of his head before coming to greet you. ‘i overheard from a guest in the inn talking about a lantern rite festival. if you mortal, no, [name], desires to go, i can possibly set aside time to accompany you.’ keep it cool, yet short. taking a deep breath to compose himself, xiao walks over to greet you, er, well actually, you’re the one doing the greeting instead, and you settle down to eat. the sweet taste of the almond tofu that you generously bought for him blossoms in his mouth and he loses track of time till your departure. before you leave once more to allow the poor yaksha to wallow in his self-regret again, you stop yourself and turn around to face xiao. tucking your hair behind your ear and giving your best, most radiant smile you can offer to him, you shyly ask if he’d like to tag along with you to the lantern rite festival. “we’ve never been on a date before and i’d love to go to the festival with you and release xiao lanterns together.”

... what? how? his mouth almost opens up in disbelief, as he struggles to keep a stoic expression. ex-excuse him?! that’s supposed to be his line! he’s in shock at how easily you were able to say something that he’s been having trouble sputtering out. you mortals never fail to surprise him. he shakes his head and bitterly scowls, that you almost step back in fright. almost, until he starts speaking, that is. “why is it you? i should have been the one to ask you on a date first, not you!” he’s almost on the brink of tears from the frustration he currently holds on himself.

a relationship is always about give and take, no? it’s like when zhongli has so kindly decided to save him from the clutches of the cruel abuse he endured endlessly, of course he was forever in debt to rex lapis. surely, it’s the same with you, isn’t it? when xiao tells you this, you immediately start laughing. you calmly explain to him that your relationship isn’t like a form of contract where he’s expected to always repay you back for every gift you give to him. as long as he’s there for you, that’s more than enough of a reward, you say, before plopping a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“finally, you’re here. what took you so long?” xiao speaks to you with indifference concealing the relief that you actually came. he trails his sharp eyes to inspect your dressed up form and blushes slightly. “you look nice.”

immediately, your eyes widen at his underhanded compliment. did- did you hear that right? biting his lower lip gently, xiao clasps your hand in his, ignoring your astounded reaction, as he squeezes it reassuringly while watching the colourful fireworks light up the murky night.

without thinking, he turns to you when you’re focused on the display of bursting lights reflecting in your eyes, and murmurs to himself softly, “i hope you’ll spend the rest of your time with me, for however long it’ll last.”

XINGQIU.

of course, a date with xingqiu has to be extravagant and sophisticated to the last touch, right? guess again. he may come from a wealthy family, but that doesn’t mean he shares the same interest a selfish, pampered noble may have. he prefers something more simple, yet sentimental. confined in his household with nothing to do but bury his head in a book, he’s picked up some ideas for your date from the romance stories he’s read. surprisingly, they’re all rather cliché.

the first thing he makes you guys do is go out in the blazing summer day to get yourselves a cool beverage. he explicitly asks the cashier to give him one straw [do they even exist in the game?] and smiles slyly as he thanks them and brings the drinks to you. when you ask about it, thinking that maybe he forgot, all he does is smirk before saying, “there’s no need, my liege. we can share, unless you’d rather melt in the sweltering sun, that is.” he winks teasingly. you... don’t really have much of a choice in the matter. as you stroll around the harbor together, you take turns drinking from the only straw and a wave of consciousness washes over you gradually. wait, isn’t this like an indirect kiss? you place a hand to your gaping mouth after sucking on the straw that xingqiu pressed his lips on merely seconds ago. you should know by now, how bold he is underneath his polite façade.

after you finish sipping your drink - tediously at that, you both agree on going to the library to read books together since the heat is pretty unbearable to do anything enjoyable. xingqiu recommends you to try reading some of his personal favorites and you do the same as well. he’s thrilled to have a reading buddy now since it’s boring being here by himself.

while you’re immersed in the novel that you randomly picked from the bookshelf, every now and then, xingqiu will look up from the pages of his book and faintly smile to himself, glad that you’re enjoying yourself.

the sun was setting and the stars started to appear in the pastel pink and orange of the evening sky. you place back the last book and stretch your arms, before turning to xingqiu. sighing, you give him a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek and softly say your farewell.

as you’re about to make your leave for the day, xingqiu halts you with his words, “wait. there’s something i need to do before we can end this date.” nonchalantly, he plucks a book from its shelf, opens its pages, and uses it to block the sunlight drifting through the transparent window glass, effectively shielding his vision from the public eye as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

his free hand finds its way combing through the back of your head to deepen the kiss. when he’s satisfied enough, the boy detaches his lips from yours and lightly rubs the flesh of your cheek with a finger, while placing the book down on a nearby table. you keep your eyes fixated on him as he licks the edges of his lips.

“that felt nice,” xingqiu murmurs, “you’re so sweet, i’d hate for anyone else to savor in this pleasant moment with you other than i. shall we continue this again on our next date too?”

ZHONGLI.

the first thing he does is make sure to bring mora, this time. it would be highly inconsiderate of mr. zhongli to have you pay for the expenses of this fine date. he’s one to take things nice and slow. sure, time is unfortunately measured and limited, but he wants to make the most of it with you, a mortal who, just like any other being, has a beginning and end to your life. zhongli wants to shower you in all the beauty and joy this world has to offer while you’re still here with him.

he may be a gentle-spoken and polite individual, but please don’t mistaken him as being shy in any way. he shows up to your residence one afternoon and presents you a bouquet of your preferred flowers while he asks if you would consider accompanying him on a date. you take the bundled up flowers, carefully stroking a petal as if it’s made of fragile glass and accepts his proposal with open arms.

he takes you out to an expensive restaurant in the night of liyue and helps you select the best dishes. after you’re finished with your lavish and sophisticated meals, zhongli ushers you outside where you’re greeted with fresh air, a contrast to the suffocation you felt back at the restaurant. sure, the place is grand and your hunger is well-satiated, yet despite wearing your best clothing, you felt out of place there, like a commoner surrounded by nobles.

when you express your earlier discomfort to zhongli, his eyes are filled with shame and he’s already apologizing like the gentleman he is. guiltily, you tell him it’s fine and you ask if you can show him something before you have to head on home. he ponders in thought before agreeing, walking hand in hand with you to your unknown destination.

the chilling night breeze bites at your bare skin as you instantly shiver. this doesn’t go unnoticed in zhongli’s sharp eyes and he’s already unbuttoning his jacket. he drapes the coat over your shoulder blades and rubs his gloved hands on your cold fingertips to preserve warmth. “are you feeling cold perhaps? maybe we should head back?” you stop him before he can guide you back to the harbor.

“i’m okay now. thank you for your concern.” you say to ease his poor mind. he nods and you both continue on. the walk uphill takes a while, but it’s worth it when you finally reach the top. your eyes widen in amazement as you witness the glimmering stars splayed across the pitch darkness of the sky. “zhongli, look. do you like it?” he simply nods, but all of his attention is focused on you.

zhongli grins down at your childishly excited face, pausing for a hesitant minute before he carefully places his hands on top of your shoulders. you look up at him in confusion and is about to question him, but any sound that comes out is cut off by his lips ensnaring yours in a kiss. you’re astounded by his intimate move, but you revel in his touch in a matter of seconds.

he hopes, as he tightens his hold, that you’ll stay with him always, till your last breath.

tagging. @scarymoosh

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #xingqiu x reader #xiao x reader

649 notes · View notes

chrizbang · 3 years

Photo

Pairing: Lee Felix x female reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: mature content, lowkey slow burn, breeding kink, soft!dom Felix, creampie.

Word count: 2.975

You and Ashley have been friends for four years now. You went through a lot of hardships together, especially when Ashley had an unplanned pregnancy in the last year of college. Luckily, Mason, now her husband, is an amazing person, and even though it was hard, she was able to graduate. You loved her baby, Arthur, so much, like it was your little brother. You knew that their anniversary was getting closer and you wanted to surprise her.

"No way, I cannot ask you for something like that."

"You're not asking, I'm offering. Besides, you know I love spending time with Arthur," you said, holding your phone with one hand while you tried to wash the dishes you used to eat dinner with the other.

"I don't know Y/N..."

"Girl, just stop. I'm not taking a no for an answer. Spending quality time with your husband is important and I know that you have been not getting laid lately."

"You have no idea how hard it is to have sex with a one-year-old making a mess everywhere." You both laughed.

"I'll go to your house tomorrow at 7 pm. Get a reservation at a nice restaurant, get shaved and, wear your best dress. I want you and Mason to have a good time together."

"Okay, but only because it is our anniversary. I'm gonna take this as a present." Ashley sighed, knowing that she had to say yes anyway.

"Because it is, Ashley. I'll see you tomorrow, bye."

"Bye, honey."

You finished your shores and were planning on watching some videos on youtube when you heard your phone buzzing. You picked it up and saw that you had a message.

Felix, 8:45 pm: Hey

Felix, 8:45 pm: Sorry for messaging late but, are you free tomorrow?

You chuckled. Almost 9 pm wasn't late.

Y/N, 8:46 pm: Sorry, I'm going to my friend's house after work.

Y/N, 8:47 pm: I'm going to babysit her baby so she can go have dinner with her husband.

You met Felix at work, during lunch. He was new there and you have seen him sometimes walking around the place, but you never talked to him. Until one day when he dropped his coffee on you. You remembered how embarrassed he was, his cheeks were red and he profusely apologized. Ever since, you had some small talk with him here and there until one day you gave him his number, saying that he could message you if he needed help with something from work. You know it was bullshit since he was from a different department, but still, you needed an excuse to talk to him. He messaged you a few times but eventually, you thought it was a lost cause.

Y/N, 8:57 pm: Why do you ask?

Felix, 9:00 pm: Nothing.

Felix, 9:01 pm: It's silly.

Y/N, 9:03 pm: If it was that silly, you wouldn't have messaged me.

Y/N, 9:03 pm: Spit it out.

Felix, 9:12 pm: There's a convention for Star Wars fans tomorrow. You said that you loved the movies one time so I bought tickets for you.

Y/N, 9:14 pm: Why didn't you tell me before?

Felix, 9:15 pm: I didn't know if you would want to go. But it's okay, don't worry about it.

You thought for a moment. You really wanted to spend time with him. Felix was so sweet, respectful and kind. He was also very, very handsome.

Y/N, 9:30 pm: Do you wanna come to my friend's house tomorrow with me?

You looked at your phone five minutes later and saw that Felix visualized the message but didn't answer. "Congratulations, you fucked it up, Y/N," you said.

You sat on your couch and turned the tv on, planning on finally watching your favorite youtube videos, when you heard your phone buzzing again.

Felix, 9:50 pm: Sure, why not? Is it okay with your friend? She doesn't know me.

You sighed, happy that he answered.

Y/N, 9:51 pm: I'm gonna tell her but I'm pretty sure she'll be fine.

"Is he cute?" Ashley asked, putting on her earring. She looked gorgeous with a tight red dress that accentuated her curves and contrasted with her dark skin. Her curly hair was in a bun, leaving her neck and shoulders exposed. You knew Mason would love it.

"He is very cute. And he's so nice too. I only invited him over because he seems really sweet."

You went to Ashley's house one hour before she would leave for dinner so you could help her get ready, and by help, you meant to force her to wear something that wasn't a t-shirt and jeans.

"How do I look?" she turned around, facing you.

"Gorgeous as always."

Ashley hugged you tight. "Thank you so much, Y/N. You know you don't have to do this, right?"

"But I want to."

The bell rang.

"That's probably Felix," you said.

"Let's go downstairs, I wanna meet this boy."

When you went to the living room you saw Felix talking to Mason.

"Hello, I'm Ashley, nice to meet you."

"I'm Felix, nice to meet you too," Felix raised his hand so he could shake Ashley's hand but she gave him a light hug. You smiled, finding really cute how awkward he was.

"Arthur is sleeping now, he already ate, but if he wakes up, there's milk on the fridge. He usually sleeps all night so you don't have much to worry about."

"Okay, you guys have to go before you're late for dinner," you said, pulling Mason and Ashley towards the door.

"Call me if you need anything. We'll be back tomorrow morning so you'll don't have much trouble with him."

"Don't worry about it. You can take your time."

"Also, don't forg-"

"Baby, we have to go," Mason insisted, holding her hand and trying to get her inside of the car.

"Fine. Bye everyone, see you tomorrow."

You waved at them before going inside and closing the door.

"I'm gonna check on Arthur for a second, you can wait here, okay?" You told Felix.

"Sure."

You went upstairs and checked on Arthur's room. He was sleeping soundly. You felt the urge to lightly pinch his chubby little cute cheeks but you decided not to bother him. You went to the living room again and Felix was sitting on the couch.

"Are you hungry? We bought pizza."

"Uhm, not really."

"Are you sure?" you insisted.

"Okay, one slice would be good."

Felix got up and followed you to the kitchen.

"Your friend has a beautiful house," he said, admiring the place.

"She does. I mean, she's an architect and Mason is an engineer, so they were able to buy a nice place," you cut a piece and handed it to him.

"You said that you studied together."

"We went to the same college, but I graduated in graphic design. For obvious reasons, I don't make as much money as them," you laughed. "Did you always wanted to work in a publishing company?" Felix sat on the balcony standing in the middle of the kitchen. "Honestly, I just wanted to work with what I love. Graphic design is not something that people value but it is what makes me happy." You looked at him and Felix smiled at you, his dimple prominent on his face. He was so cute. "What about you?" "Oh, marketing is definitely not something I dreamed of working with. My family has a long line of people that have been working with it, so I barely had a choice,” Felix confessed. "Oh, yeah?" "Yeah." He looked thoughtful like his mind was somewhere else. "I actually wanted to work with art. I love painting." "Really? That's so cool. Do you have a picture of a painting to show me? I would love to see it." Felix hesitated for a while before he grabbed his phone and scrolled through his gallery. "Please don't think I'm weird," he said before showing you the picture. You raised your eyebrows when you saw what was on the screen of his phone. A beautiful painting of you. You realized that he used your profile picture on Facebook as a reference. "Felix, this is amazing." "It took me a week to finish it," he said, holding his hands behind his back, clearly feeling shy. "I love it, really." You and Felix finished eating. You talked more about your plans for the future, the things you wanted to do with your life, your dreams. You were sitting on the couch watching tv when you heard Arthur crying upstairs. "Ops, somebody woke up." You got up to go to his room and you noticed that Felix was following you. "You don't have to go if you don't want to." "It's fine, I wanna help you." When you entered the room, Arthur was up in his crib, deeply crying. "It's okay," you said in a soft tone, picking him up. "I think somebody needs to change its diaper," Felix said. "You are right," you laughed. "Let's change this little boy." You put Arthur on the changing mat and started to change him, but to be honest, you had no idea what you were doing. Felix laughed. "Let me help you." Felix quickly changed his diaper, he clearly knew what he was doing. "Woah, how do you know that?" you asked, looking at him dumbfounded. He laughed again, amused by your reaction. "I have a small brother so I have changed his diaper plenty of times." "Aaah, that explains a lot."

"Let's see if he wants to eat," Felix said, holding Arthur in his arms. You went to the kitchen and looked for the milk. After pouring it into a pan, you heated it up. "We need to make sure we don't overheat it so it won't burn the baby," Felix said while he tested the milk's temperature. You put it into a baby bottle and gave it to Arthur who promptly drank it. "I guess he was hungry," Felix chuckled. "Do you plan on having kids, Felix?" you looked at him, completely mesmerized by how good he was with kids. "Yes, I love kids. I plan on having two kids one day." "That's so cute, I'm sure you'll be an amazing dad." Felix smiled, making your heart skip a beat. "Do you want to have kids, Y/N?" he looked apprehensive. "Yeah, one day. I still need to find the right person." "Of course." Arthur went back to sleep again when he was done eating. "Not gonna lie, taking care of a baby can be tiring," claimed said, sitting on the couch. Felix sat next to you, his knee touching your leg. "Do you want to watch a movie?" you asked. "Sure!" Twenty minutes later, you started to sleep. Your head felt heavy until it fell on Felix's shoulder. He simply smiled, enjoying the feeling of you so close to him.

The sound of the bell ringing woke you up. You were laying on the couch, a blanket over your body. You looked around and Felix was sleeping on the smaller couch next to yours, with just a pillow under his head. You got up and answered the door. "Hey!" Ashley said, hugging you. "Hi. How was your night?" "It was amazing. Thank you so much, Y/N." Ashley went to the middle of the living room to drop her bag on the couch, Mason following behind. "How's Arthur? Did he behaved?" Mason asked. "Yeah, he slept almost all of the time." You rubbed your eyes, still feeling sleepy. Ashley turned around, seeing Felix sleeping on the couch. "You guys could have slept in the guest room," she laughed. "I'm gonna check on Arthur. What about some breakfast later?" Mason suggested. "That sounds great, but I think we should go home. Besides, you guys need to spend some family time with your baby." You woke Felix up, and while he was trying to get conscious, you chatted with Ashley about dinner. Mason went downstairs with Arthur and you chatted a little more before leaving. "Do you want me to take you home?" Felix asked, leaving Ashley's house by your side. "No, it's okay, I'll get an Uber." "Aw, come on. I'm not gonna let you leave on an Uber so early in the morning." You looked at him, admiring the freckles on his skin. His pink lips looked soft and you had to fight the urge to kiss him. "You know what, okay. I'll go with you." The drive to your house was silent, the music playing on the radio helped you to distract the thoughts on your head. The night you spent with Felix was amazing, seeing him being so sweet like that only made you even more attracted to him. Felix stopped in front of your house. "Well, we are here." "Do you want to come in?" "Oh... uhm, sure, yes, that would be great." You smiled and left the car, running to open the door for him. "Please don't mind the mess," you said, taking some clothes that were on the couch. "Don't worry about it." "Do you want to eat something?" "I'm fine, I'm still full because of the pizza from yesterday." "Okay." There was an awkward silence for a while and you realized you didn't think this through. Invite him over and what? "You know what? There's something I want to eat," Felix said. "Oh, okay. What do you want? I have bread, cereal, we can make panca-" "You." "What?" you looked at him, your eyes wide. "I w-want to eat you." Felix stuttered, his face showing that he was feeling too shy to be saying the words that left his mouth. "Oh, I'm... I-" you didn't have the chance to finish, Felix approached you and kissed you. You were still processing what was happening so you didn't kiss him back yet. Felix noticed and stopped kissing you. "I-I'm so sorry, Y/N, I shoul-" "No! It's okay. I just wasn't expecting." You kissed him, holding his face and tasting his lips. His left hand held the back of your head while the other held your waist. He bit your lower lip, his tongue entering your mouth and playing with yours. He pressed his body against yours and you felt his semi-hard dick. You whined, trying to control your breath. "Do you want to keep going?" Felix asked, his forehead resting against yours. You simply nodded. "Where's your room?" You grabbed his hand, guiding him to your room. Once you were inside, Felix slammed you against the door, pressing his body into yours. He started to grind his clothed cock on your heat and, this time, you couldn't hold your moans anymore. "Felix," was all you managed to say before he kissed you again. A messy kiss that screamed how much he was longing for you, how much he desired you. His hand grabbed your ass, pulling you closer as if it was even possible. "I wanna taste you," he said, taking you to the bed. You laid down and he wasted no time to take off your pants, pulling your panties with them in a swift movement. Soon enough, his tongue was exploring your wet lips, savoring the taste of your arousal. Felix played with your clit, his tongue sliding against the sensitive skin. You hoped that your neighbors had already left for work, otherwise you would end up waking them up because of your moans. Felix stopped eating you out to unbutton his shirt. "You have no idea how much I wanted to fuck you," he said, his voice deep, making you raise your hips, craving to be filled up. "Felix, please," you moaned. "You want me to fuck you, baby?" "Yes, please." It was embarrassing, you weren't used to begging. Most of the time that you had sex, you were always the one in control. But not with Felix. "Are you on the pill?" Felix asked, taking the rest of his clothes off and pumping his rock-hard cock. "Yeah, please fuck me." "Anything for you," he growled, sliding his dick into your dripping pussy. Felix already started an incessant pounding into you, stealing moans from your throat. "You are so fucking beautiful." You closed your eyes, feeling the burning on your stomach getting stronger. "Fuck, so fucking good, Y/N. You are taking me so well." "Please, don't s-stop." "Turn around, I wanna fuck you from behind." You didn't have much strength left, but Felix helped you out. He was inside of you again, hitting the right spots in this position. Felix felt your pussy tightening against his dick and he started to play with your clit. "Fuck, Felix, I'm gonna cum," you screamed, not being able to control yourself anymore. You came, a long moan leaving your mouth. "I'm gonna cum inside of your little pussy, I'm gonna fill you up so good." He didn't slow his pace, his hips hitting yours in a fast rhythm. "I'm gonna put a baby in your little cute belly, baby girl," he said, closing his eyes as his dick slid in and out of your pussy. "Fuck," you moaned. "You are gonna look so good, all swollen, f-fuck." A few lazy thrusts and Felix came inside of you. He kept thrusting on you for a while until you milked him out. He laid by your side, trying to catch his breath. Felix put his arm on his face, hiding it. He looked completely flustered. "I'm sorry, Y/N. It was way too soon for me to let out this embarrassing kinky stuff." "Felix, shut up. It was fucking hot," you smiled, turning around to hug him and rest your head on his chest. He played with your hair, the warmth of his skin making you fall asleep. But sleeping wasn't on Felix's plans. "Ready for round two?"

#stray kids #skz #lee felix #felix #stayhavennet #lee felix smut #felix smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #felix x you #felix x y/n #felix x reader #felix imagine #stray kids imagine #skz imagine

470 notes · View notes

paterson-blue · 3 years

Text

Summary: Sackler's working on his impulse control. No, really--he is, he swears. It's just a lot harder when it comes to you.

Word Count: 8,432

Warnings: fem!AFAB!reader, angst with a happy ending, fluff, sexual tension, friends to lovers (but moves into established relationship), domestic shit, the regularly scheduled Sackler chaos, Sackler is soft, an anxious boy; a nervous boy, excessive gatorade drinking (it's his brand), classic Sackler banter, hair braiding, teasing, handjobs, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), slight nose action, unprotected PIV sex (no chance of pregnancy), cock warming, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint) — let me know if I need to add anything else!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

You’d entered his life slowly, inch by inch, sneaking into his consciousness until suddenly you were all he thought about. When he’d decided to wave at you across the aisle of the bodega all those months ago he’d had no idea of what the future would hold. All he knew was that he’d been seeing you there every day like clockwork; same time, same aisle.

He always grabbed a red Gatorade and you always grabbed some sort of sugary drink of your own. Occasionally the two of you seemed to move in sync, opening the fridge, reaching up, grabbing your item, and slamming the door all in one motion together. Adam thought it was kinda funny, two strangers' lives lining up in such a way, being part of each other’s daily routine. So one day he waves, a goofy grin on his face as he points to his signature bottle of red goodness.

You blink at him in surprise before almost shyly smiling back, your eyes bright, and oh—Adam’s stomach does a dangerous little flip-flop.

He waves at you for two weeks straight until it’s not enough anymore. He comes into the bodega one day determined to talk to you but with no concrete plan of how to do it. He’s a little early in his excitement, and he finds himself having to aimlessly browse the little store like a fuckin’ idiot before the familiar bell dings and he sees you come through the door. He half-trips over to the drink aisle, trying not to come across like he’s following you around, even though he definitely is.

You’re studying the various beverages in the fridge, mouth scrunched up as you consider them. He only allows himself a moment to admire you, not wanting you to catch him staring. He steps closer, boots thudding on the floor, making you look up at him. Now’s your chance, Sackler, a voice echoes in his head.

“What’s today’s flavor?” he hears himself say, and he feels relief wash over him when you give him that pretty smile.

“Oh, I’m not sure.” You sigh, settling your hands on your hips. “Maybe just water.”

“What?! Bullshit! You never get water!” Oh, so he’s just gonna double down on being a creep, huh? Saying he knows exactly what you get every day? Adam wants to smack the palm of his hand against his forehead.

But then you’re letting out a laugh, shaking your head at him. “Well maybe sometimes I like to change things up. We can’t all stick to red gatorade every damn day.”

Your comeback makes Adam feel half-giddy, both from the easy banter and from the acknowledgement that you’ve been paying just as much attention to him as he has to you.

“Well, I’ll have you know that red flavored Gatorade has special health benefits that others just don’t.” He states, leaning against the cool glass of the fridge. You’ve gone back to browsing, but you keep shooting him amused little looks; his ego crows at your attention.

“Is that so?” you ask, humoring him as you indeed select a bottle of water from the bottom shelf.

He’s nodding when you straighten back up, and points accusingly at the bottle of water. “Can’t believe you’re going for the boring shit.”

“Well,” you shrug, holding the bottle to your chest, “I’m feeling pretty boring today. But I dunno, tomorrow might be different. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

She doesn’t mean anything, Adam tries to tell himself. The two of you had been there together every day for the past two months. It’s not abnormal for you to assume he’ll show up again the next day. But still, your words, the between-the-lines invitation for him to see you again, makes his heart leap.

“I guess I will,” he responds firmly before grabbing his regular gatorade from the shelf. This time the two of you walk up to the register together, and before Adam can stop himself he’s digging into his jeans pocket, tugging out a couple crumpled bills. “Hey kid, lemme pay for that.”

You hesitate, but nod, chirping out a “thank you” in that sweet voice of yours. Adam slaps down the money, throwing in a pack of sunflower seeds along with the drinks. If it’s just to make the transaction last two seconds longer—to make him standing there with you two seconds longer—then he’ll keep it to himself. Soon, you’ve got your water and you're waving a goodbye as you step out of the store and onto the busy sidewalk.

Adam follows at a distance; watches you walk away, your purse slung over your shoulder, water already open and pressed to your lips. He watches until you disappear into the crowd, and then he’s sighing, looking down at his feet. It’s not until he’s trudging back home that he realizes he never even got your fuckin’ name.

_______________________________________

It’s another day before he gets your name. A week before the two of you leave together, leaning against the wall outside and sipping your respective drinks; two before he’s asking for your number. For some reason, you actually give it to him.

He’s nervous to text you first, which is unlike him. Sure, in the past he would get a little anxious, not wanting to make a complete fool out of himself, but he still went through with it. But it takes him an entire day to shoot you a message, asking if you wanted to go sit in the nearby park after the bodega stop. Your answer is an immediate yes, and suddenly Adam is eying the hole in the collar of his green t-shirt, wondering if he should change.

It’s not a date. The bodega isn’t a date, the park isn’t a date—the walks and lunches, coffee shops and movie nights in the weeks following aren’t dates either. So what if he cleaned the absolute shit out of his apartment before you came over for dinner? So what if he wore his nice jeans and black dress shirt, sleeves all rolled up to show off his forearms? So fuckin’ what?

It’s not a date.

It’s not a date until, a month into all your not-date’s, you’re standing at the sink with him as the two of you tag-team-clean the dishes. He’s washing, you’re drying, and there’s an easy rhythm flowing until a soapy plate slips from your grasp as he hands it to you. The dish smacks into the water-filled sink, creating a splash that soaks the both of you. You inhale a loud gasp, laughter already in your voice.

He seems to get the brunt of it, the front of his green plaid shirt darkening as warm, sudsy water bathes the fabric. His shoulders hunch up in surprise, and you’re giggling, covering your mouth with your hand. “Shit, I’m so sorry, that was an accident I swear.”

“Oh I call bullshit,” he growls, a grin spreading over his face. He yanks his arms up high, wriggling his fingers over your head so that water and suds drip onto you. “Pay back!” He crows, stalking towards you. You can easily duck under his arm to sideswipe him, to escape his grasp, but you don’t.

Instead, you swat at him with the dish towel in your hands, laughing as you shuffle backwards. “You better fuckin’ not, Sackler! I’ll scream!” You make idle threats at him but he doesn’t listen. He steps forward, forward, forward, hands dripping water all over your hair and shoulders as you shriek.

“I’mmmmm gonna getcha!” he sing-songs, jumping towards you, the wood floor creaking under his big feet. He’s got you cornered now, your back against the wall—ha! His arms swoop down in an attempt to engulf you, aiming to press his wet hands and shirtfront against you, but your hands fly out to grasp his wrists to halt him.

“I just bought this shirt!”

“It’s soapy water, it’s just gonna get more clean!”

“Adam!” You laugh, your voice betraying a tone of fond exasperation. And oh, you’re all smiley and breathless, eyes shining up at him—you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, lighting up his kitchen and his heart and his whole fuckin’ life with the brightest, warmest sunshine he’s ever felt. He stares at you, admiring you freely, not able to help it. You don’t seem to mind; you’re looking straight back at him, thumbs rubbing little circles on his wrists where water was trickling down to his forearms.

Adam’s never really been one for impulse control. That shit’s just never appealed to him. What was the point? If you’re gonna do something, just fuckin’ do it—get it out there in the open and see what happens. Yeah, sometimes things don’t go well, or—okay, they go really fuckin’ bad—but sometimes things turn out for the better! And the sweet feeling of elation whenever his bet, whenever trusting his gut, pays off? It was worth the risk.

So he lunges down, capturing your face in his wet palms as he presses his lips to yours. And shit, by some strange miraculous twist of fate you’re actually kissing him back. It makes him press forward, shoulders scrunched up and back curved towards you, angling himself for you to take. He thinks he could die happy, finally having your mouth against his, finally holding you the way he’s needed since the first fuckin’ day he saw you.

You sigh into his mouth and he gobbles it up greedily, sucking at your bottom lip, full on moaning when your tongue swipes against his cupid’s bow. When you insist on pulling away to get some air he stays close to share your breath, brushing his nose against yours. You hum out a pleased little noise and he wants to melt into the floor. He thinks about doing it—about sinking to his knees and pressing his face into your stomach, holding you tight, tight, tight.

He thinks he might have, if you hadn’t reached up to card your fingers through his hair, fingertips massaging deliciously at his scalp. He presses a needy little kiss to the corner of your mouth; your lips quirk upwards at his touch. When you break the silence it’s in a hushed tone, your hands sliding over his biceps. “That was nice.”

Adam grins, rubbing the tip of his nose over your cheekbone just because he can. “I can do better,” he promises cheekily, “Just gotta let me show you.”

You laugh, saying oh really? in a way that has him preening.

“Hell yeah. I’m a very well rounded individual.” He finally straightens back up, watching you with hopeful eyes, painfully shoving back the urge to ask you if you wanted to kiss him again.

“… I’ve got work tomorrow,” you finally say, and Adam nods, because he knows you do. You took your shit seriously. But oh, you’re reaching for his hand, and the relief he feels when you touch him is immediate. “But I'm free tomorrow night,” you tell him, your own eyes bright, waiting for him to take your offering—and there’s no way in hell he’s going to pass it up.

“Well good, because we’re having dinner. That back alley Thai place. And then I’ll take you out to that gross ice cream shop down the street you like so fuckin’ much.”

You nod, bouncing on your toes a little, and it’s so goddamn cute that Adam almost dips down to kiss you again. The most he lets himself do is rub the back of your hand with his thumb, watching you intently. “And I’m fuckin’ paying, don’t even think about bringing any money.”

You offer him a grin. “Alright. It’s a date.”

Adam nods, so fast he thinks he probably looks unhinged, but hey—that’s nothing new. “You bet your ass it’s a date, kid.”

An actual date. With you. It only took three months.

_______________________________________

So yeah. Impulse control.

Never been Adam’s thing.

It’s not that he doesn’t think about his actions. Okay, well, sure, sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he just goes with his gut and throws caution to the wind, like when he’d kissed you. He’d just known it was what he should do, and so he did it. He likes to think most of his impulsive decisions are perfectly logical and sound, even the ones that don’t work out. It’s not his fault if other people don’t always agree with what he does. This is how he’s lived his life all these years, and it’s worked out more often than not. Why change something that isn’t broken, or whatever the saying is.

Except. He meets you. And fuck, suddenly he’s overthinking every little urge, every little snap judgement—tight-rope walking the thread of fate. He’s on edge for the best of reasons; you’re the most wonderful thing he thinks has ever fuckin’ happened to him and there’s no goddamn way he’s going to jeopardize what the two of you have. He has to do this right, has to do things properly. He’s going to date the absolute shit outta you and there’s nothing you can do about it.

He likes it, really—hopping each little stepping stone that leads to more of you. Taking things slower than he has in ages, maybe ever. He knows, in the back of his mind, that if he flew into you at his usual gale force chaos, you’d accept him all the same. Because you’re good. You’re soft and sweet, and have turned his life into something golden and warm.

But you deserve more than his chaos. You were so gentle and vulnerable with him, and Adam—he wants to be the same way with you. For you. So he grapples with his impulses, shoving them down when they rear their ugly heads. He’s not gonna fuck this up, no matter how much his brain tries. And oh, does it try.

_______________________________________

For example, he almost tells you he loves you not two weeks into the course of dating you.

It’s not his fault, honest—or that’s what he tells himself. His feelings just like to…. overwhelm him. Endlessly.

See, he’d had a show—a play; one he’d been working on since before he’d waved at you in the bodega those months ago. You knew about it, sure. He’d talked about it (ranted about it) plenty of times. You always listened even if you had no clue what he was going on about, always gave him whatever he needed—whether that was being alone, or extra rehearsal time, or allowing him to flop into your couch and scream into the pillows.

Still, he hadn’t invited you to the opening night. Or any nights, actually. He was too nervous, as much as he hated to admit it—mostly about fucking things up if you were there. Honestly, the thought of you sitting, watching him, made his insides all… wriggly. And even if it was the good kind of wriggly, he’d be too hyper-aware of it, too distracted by it.

He feels guilty even if you don’t seem upset. You have brunch with him—yeah, he was doing fuckin’ brunch now. That shit was good—and then give him a goodbye kiss, telling him to “break a leg.” It makes him smile, and he insists on a couple more kisses, just for luck. And then he’s off to the final rehearsal before opening.

It goes off without a hitch, and Adam’s beyond elated—and relieved, and proud. As he scrubs off his sweat and makeup backstage, he can’t help but wish he had someone there to share his pride with. But he doesn’t have time to get into his head; there’s stupid fuckin’ rich people to schmooze outside, and the director had told him under no uncertain terms would he be in attendance.

Adam yanks on his tie as he makes his way through the theater’s halls towards the ballroom, not looking forward to the boring conversation and unnecessarily tiny food he had ahead of him. He tries to sneak his way through the crowded lobby area but it’s kind of difficult to be discreet with his sheer size—something that shouldn’t surprise him by now and yet does every single time. He forces out gentle smiles and humble “thank you’s” at the praise his performance receives, attempting to make his long legs work double time.

But then he spots something in his periphery. He’s not even sure what it is at first, really--just that it means something to him. It’s important. A flash of fabric as someone exits the large revolving doors, and there it is, that nagging in his head, that impulse. He veers off course without even thinking about it; fuck the schmoozing. Following that flutter of fabric, he shoves his way through the door and people, stumbling out onto the sidewalk. His dark eyes scan the busy street before landing on what his subconscious had been so attracted to.

You.

It stuns him at first, shocks him to silence--and not much can do that, if he’s being honest. You were here. Had you been here the whole time? Did you watch the whole thing? Were you just gonna leave? Adam thinks all these things at once, his mind a cacophony of noise, and suddenly he’s bellowing your name over the bustle of the crowd. He watches you jump, acknowledges the head turns he’s getting--he doesn’t give a fuck. You’re turning to look at him and he’s all but bounding over, zeroed in on you. You looked so goddamn gorgeous, the lights of the city casting multicolored glows over your skin.

“You’re here.” He says when he gets close enough, gaze bouncing all over you, not able to keep to one spot.

You give him a sheepish look, extending him just half a smile. “I… Yeah, I’m sorry. I wanted to come. I know you didn’t ask me to, but this show is so important to you and I--” You let out a small laugh, “--I wanted to support you, even if it was a secret?”

Adam’s chest fills with warmth, and his voice is noticeably quieter when he speaks again. “And you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye? What the fuck, kid?”

You shrug, but in a bashful way, not in a way where you’re blowing off his question. “Well, it wasn’t about me, you know? I wanted to be here for you, but until you were ready for me to be here, be here… I wasn’t wanting to, I don’t know--force your hand, or anything.”

And shit, if that doesn’t give Adam pause. He doesn’t think he’s ever had someone do something like this for him--support him without wanting something in return, without wanting recognition for their ‘good deed.’ You were giving him yourself even when he wasn’t around to acknowledge it or thank you for it. The words almost slip out of his mouth right then and there. I love you. It would be so simple.

They’re on the tip of his tongue, ready to tumble out in the open area between the two of you at a moment’s notice; he does the only thing he can think of to stop it from happening. He lunges forward, half yanking you to him as he slams his mouth down onto yours. It's… not as gentle as he intends, but he’s desperate, because the words are already leaving his lips in a muffled jumble. He’s kissing you on the crowded sidewalk like he’s fuckin’ starving for it, like he can’t breathe without it. Maybe he can’t. He sure isn’t stopping to find out.

“Adam--” you murmur into his mouth, and he grunts at you in response, which earns him a laugh. Your hands slip over his dress shirt, underneath his suit jacket, and he leans into your touch. You pull away from his lips, but press lingering kisses to his jaw, and Adam thinks maybe it’s an okay compromise. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close; says the only (other) thing he can think of--that he knows he has to get off his chest.

“I don’t wanna fuckin’ date anyone else. Don’t wanna kiss anyone else. Just you.” He makes sure to look at you when he says it, not caring how intense he comes across. If he can’t say that he loves you outright, he’ll do it in every other little way he can. “I wanna do boyfriend shit for you. Like—like make you canned soup when you’re sick and—and text you whenever I see a fuckin’ tree that reminds me of you.”

You smile up at him in that way that makes him feel ridiculously small and a million feet tall all at once. “Boyfriend shit, huh? Does that mean I need to start thinking of girlfriend shit to do?”

Adam nods briskly, but then pauses, his hands sliding up and down your back. “Only if you want to.” He tries to school his tone into something soft and neutral, trying to protect himself in case you say no.

But then you’re relaxing into his chest, resting your head over his thrumming heart. “I want to.”

He’s glad you can’t see his grin, and he holds you tighter to him, hoping you wont notice the way he’s literally fuckin’ vibrating with happiness. He wants to shout, wants to yell out at everyone passing by on the street. Hear that, everyone?! She’s my fuckin’ girlfriend now! Mine!! Ha!

“Do you wanna come back inside with me?” He asks instead, trailing his fingertips up and down your arm. “I have to go suck up to a bunch’a idiots so they’ll give the director some money. They might be willing to give more if I bring along some hot eye candy.”

You snort, pulling away from him; his gaze flits over your face, taking in your pleased smile and sparkling eyes. You were happy. He made you happy. It’s all he ever wants, really. You agree to coming with him, and he gives you his arm to hold onto as he escorts you back into the building, head held high with pride.

_______________________________________

Of course, it just makes things harder.

He’s swallowing down “I love you’s” left and fuckin’ right: when you pick him up from an audition and hand him a red gatorade. When you remember his lunch order from the café down the street. When you laugh at something dumb he’s said—a joke he knows isn’t that funny.

When, alternatively, you say Sackler in that exasperated-yet-fond tone whenever he’s said something annoying. When the two of you sit quietly in the living room together, each doing work, comfortable in the silence. When you pass behind him while he’s cooking and brush a gentle hand against his back, casual as can be.

He swallows the words down the first time he stays over at your place. It’d been an accident; he’d fallen asleep on the couch after getting back from an out-of-state visit to see his niece. He’d woken up in the morning to the smell of coffee, finding himself tucked under blankets. You’d come over when you saw that he was awake; brushed his hair out of his bleary eyes, said- “Good morning, sleepy head.”

He starts staying over a lot more after that, in your bed instead of the couch. Each time he wakes up next to you, wrapped around you, one of you half on top of the other—his chest fuckin’ aches. And still, his brain tells him to keep his thoughts to himself, to hold his feelings in his chest until the right moment. What’s the right moment? He asks himself. He never receives an answer.

It’s a torture he’s never experienced before and he doesn’t know what to fuckin’ do with himself. The first time you climb into his lap, tugging his jeans open, wrapping your perfect hands around his cock--all he can do is stare up at you, plush mouth hanging open, barely daring to breathe much less let the usual filth fall from his lips.

Because holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, so perfect for him, and he’s pretty sure if he tries to say a single thing he’s going to let it slip. So he just yanks you close, biting at your lips, letting you swallow down his grunts and groans. He touches you everywhere--tries to let his hands do the talking for him.

He thinks he should probably tone down just how fervently he’s staring at you as he presses his thick fingers deep inside your pussy, but he has to see, has to know he’s making you feel good. “Tell me.” He manages to say, voice hoarse as he glances down to see your sticky wetness on his fingers before he pushes them back in, thumbing at your clit as he does so. “Tell me how it feels.”

You’re quiet but from your whimpers and whines, and Adam almost adds on a desperate please before you’re suddenly speaking, your words more of a babble as he works you. “F-Feels good, Adam, baby, feels so full. Can--can you--a little faster?”

A little faster? He can do that. He speeds up the motion on your clit, curling his fingers against that special spongy area inside as he pounds them in and out of you, brown eyes nearing black as he stares you down. “Like this?” he growls out, and instead of answering with words you let out a squeal, your hips jerking against him as your eyes roll back in your head.

Adam grins, breathless and feral. “Yeah. Like that, huh? Pretty girl.” The feeling of you cumming on three of his big fingers is enough to drag a long moan out of his chest; you’re so fuckin’ beautiful. “That’s it, doll, ride my fingers—good girl, so fuckin’ needy for me.”

You’re all clingy afterwards, clutching at him; he clutches right back, pressing his face into your shoulder, listening to you breathe. I love you, he thinks. I fuckin’ love you.

When you finally let him press his face between your legs one night, the words echo endlessly in his head. He’s lost in you, in the pressure of your thighs against his ears, your hands clutching at his shaggy hair, the way you clench so sweetly against his tongue. He rubs his face back and forth, smearing your slick all over himself greedily, sliding his nose up and down your clit. You let out an uninhibited, shuddering noise and he smirks, eagerly sucking at your folds.

He lets his eyes flick up to look at you, taking in the softness of your stomach, your heaving tits, the arch of your neck as you toss your head back against the pillows. He can’t see your face like this but he doesn’t fuckin’ care, not when he has the vision of you before him, your soft skin under his palms, the tangy sweetness of you in his mouth.

You cry out his name when you orgasm, your hips bucking against his face and Adam just goes along for the ride, using his hands to ease your frenetic movements. He spells it out with his tongue against your clit as you slowly come back down, blood rushing in his ears.

I - L - O - V - E - Y - O - U.

It’s a warm, early fall night when he fucks you for the first time, slow and deep, the bedroom windows cracked and letting in the nightly noise of the city. He doesn’t hear any of it--hears nothing but you and the sounds your bodies make together. There’s no rushing, no dirty words falling from his lips--there’ll be more than enough time for that later. Right now was about the slick slide of his cock in you, his eyes trained on yours, all wide like he’s surprised by this--shocked that any of its happening. In a way, he is.

Adam reaches out to settle a giant palm on your cheek, holding you, rubbing his nose against yours as he rolls his hips, muscles flexing under his skin as his back arches. He wants closer to you--closer, closer, and closer still--so he shuffles up the bed. It's a little awkward, but he doesn’t care, just as long as he can get deeper. You’ve got your knees hugging his hips, hands grabbing at his shoulder blades, making the prettiest noises in his ear. Adam, you say, and somehow his name has a thousand meanings in this moment. Adam, Adam, Adam.

Hearing it makes his toes curl up, makes him choke out a moan into your neck. “Fuck, I’m--I--” He fumbles for your face, breathing hot and heavy as he mouths over your skin to find your lips, kissing you sloppy to shut himself up. You’re clenching tight around his cock, a hand snuck down to rub quick little circles on your clit as you get close.

He doesn’t watch you as you cum this time, not when you’re pulling his own orgasm out of him, milking him for all he’s worth. He’s drenched in sweat, trembling as he sucks in shaky breaths. No thoughts fill his mind, head completely fuckin’ empty but for the pleasure humming through his veins.

You laugh afterwards, the two of you curled up together, Adam having collapsed to the side in an attempt not to crush you. He gives you a crooked grin of his own, sliding one big palm over your tummy, rubbing it as he slings a massive thigh over your legs. “Good?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he starts to finger your belly button. You bat his hands away, calling him a fucking weirdo even as you lean in to capture his lips with yours. He nips at your bottom lip happily, smoothing his hand over your side, grabbing whatever part of you he can.

“Yeah,” he concedes, “-but I’m the fuckin’ weirdo you have custody of.” You smirk, and then you’re tugging on his shoulders, trying to haul him closer to you. You both need to shower--to clean up, probably drink some water, more than likely change the sheets. But maybe, he thinks to himself as he curls up half on top of you, nuzzling into your cheek--maybe it can wait for just a little longer.

____________________________________

“Fuckin’—ow!”

“Adam, stop moving around—“

“Well stop pulling my fuckin’ hair!”

You sigh at him, crossing your arms over your chest and giving him a hard look in the mirror. Adam pouts, slumping on the stool he was sitting on; he knew he was being whiny but his scalp was fuckin’ sensitive!

“You’re the one who asked me to braid your hair, remember?” You point out, grabbing another elastic from the countertop. “You practically begged me.”

“I didn’t beg.” He huffs, making a face at you. You don’t move, and he chances a look at his watch—fuck, he was gonna be late if this took too much longer. “… Fine, I’m sorry, I’ll sit still. Promise.” He chews on his bottom lip, giving you his best puppy dog eyes; he’s heard they were pretty effective. He’s pleased when you finally step forward, reaching up to comb through his hair again, pulling it out of his face and plaiting it across the top of his head.

He’s landed an actual honest-to-fuck movie role. A little indie film, sure, but it was still another stepping stone in his career. He was beyond excited, was putting his all into it—and, apparently, since his character was a boxer, that meant doing early morning training followed by choreography.

It was fine, really. He was enjoying it, and he liked learning a new sport, liked feeling the burn in different muscles of his body. It wasn’t that he was out of shape, it was just fuckin’ intense. Some days absolutely kicked his ass but he was always eager to come back for more. His trainer, Beth, said she liked that about him. It gave Adam a sense of pride about what he was doing.

It’s just that his damn hair kept getting in the way. It would get all sweaty, sticking all over his skin, flying into his eyes at the most inopportune moments. He’d tried to put it up into a ponytail but that hadn’t lasted long at all. Finally last night, after days of his complaining, you’d told him he just needed to braid it. I don’t know how to do that shit, he’d said, and you’d snorted, and here the two of you were.

“M’gonna be late.” He warns, leg bouncing up and down, jittery. He’d been on time—early, even—to every single session so far, and he didn’t want to break that streak.

“You won’t be late,” you murmur, twisting the tiny elastic around the end of the braid, making him wince just a little—he shuts his eyes against the sting. They have to be tight or they won’t hold, you’d said. Your hands sweep his remaining loose hair behind his ears, combing your fingers through it as you give your work a once over.

“I think they’re okay. They shouldn’t fall apart, at least. No more hair getting in your eyes.” You scratch your nails lightly at the back of his neck, a silent apology for the strain on his scalp, before moving to rub the shells of his ears between your thumbs and forefingers. Adam makes a small, pleased noise at the sensations, leaning back into your chest. He wants to stay here like this, with you, but he knows he can’t.

“How do I look?” He questions, eyes still closed. Your hands slide down the sides of his neck to rest on his shoulders, squeezing gently. He feels when you press a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

“Cute.” You tell him, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “Very pretty.”

He opens his eyes to meet your gaze in the mirror, wrinkling up his nose. “Cute?” You nod, and he shakes his head. “I can’t look fuckin’ cute while I’m boxing!” You just shrug, as if to say ‘well, what am I supposed to do about it?’, and then start putting up your supplies. Adam wants to keep on teasing you, but instead he hauls himself to standing, heading into the living room to grab his boots.

You trail in after him as he’s shoving them on his feet and perch on the edge of the couch to watch him. He speaks as he ties the laces, hyper-aware of the time even though the subway was only a couple minute walk from your apartment. “I shouldn’t be home late. Probably be back before you, even.”

Home. It only half registers that he says it, that he refers to your place as his. He doesn’t have time to worry about it now; besides, you only nod at him, like he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary. He hops up, heavy feet stomping across the floor as goes to grab his trusty backpack. When he passes you on the way to the front door he drops a gentle kiss to your mouth.

“Thanks for my hair.” He says as he slips his arms through the straps of the bag and proceeds to pat his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed.

“Wait!” You’re crying out suddenly, making him freeze in place, looking at you with wide eyes. He watches you rush over to the fridge, digging in it for a moment or two; he gives his watch another nervous glance.

“Kid, what the hell…?” Adam scratches at the back of his neck, bouncing on his toes, ready to get out the door. When you shut the fridge, you’ve got two tupperware containers and a red gatorade in your hands; you hurry over to him, a small smile on your face.

“Here.” You tug him around with surprising strength, maneuvering him until you can unzip his backpack and put the plastic boxes and drink into the large pocket. “I made you lunch and some snacks. Don’t worry, it’s all protein. I know you always pack water but I wanted you to have more than that.”

Adam whips back around the second he’s allowed, his chest feeling warm and fluttery. He steals another kiss, one large hand on your jaw, nudging his nose against your cheek. Knowing he has to keep it short he pulls away, brushing his thumb over your chin as he does so. He opens his mouth to say something, but doesn’t really know how to express what your actions mean to him. When had you even packed that? Last night, while he was asleep?

You give him a gentle smile, nuzzling your face into his palm. “You better get going. You’ll be late.”

Adam exhales. You always gave him an escape route, and he always fuckin’ took it. “Right, yeah. Okay.” He steps back, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack. “Have a good day.” He yanks open the front door; when you speak again, your words are rushed, clearly not wanting to keep him.

“You too! Oh, can you pick up some bread on your way home?

“What? Oh, bread—yeah, sure—“ He’s stepping through the door, mind already focused on the day ahead. His hand finds the doorknob by muscle memory— “Sounds good, I can do that, love you!”—and the door slams shut behind him. He takes the stairs two at a time, his long strides getting him to the subway station sooner than he thought.

It’s not until he’s two stops down, staring blankly out the window as he stands in the crowded subway car, that he realizes what he’s done. Dread settles in his gut, heavy like lead, and his stomach twists. Fuck. Fuck! How could he have done something so stupid?

He wipes his palms on his gym shorts, feeling like they’re all clammy. He’d said ‘I love you’, tossed it to you like it was nothing. It wasn’t nothing! Fuck, what if you didn’t feel the same way? What if he’d ruined everything—pressured you somehow? Jesus Christ, well, guess it was time for him to leave the country. Or at least, move across town. New York was big enough to hide in, right?

He makes his way to the gym in a daze, his chest feeling all tight with anxiety. Getting into his routine is a struggle, and it frustrates him even more. Beth finally tells him to just have at one of the punching bags for a little bit, which does help loosen him up. Adam thinks it’s a tad ironic that imagining punching himself makes him feel better.

It’s not until he’s lumbering to the bodega to grab the bread you asked for, body aching and sticky with sweat, that he remembers you aren’t supposed to be home yet. He could sneak in undetected, plan an escape, or at least formulate some sort of explanation for his morning mistake. Though, he’s pretty sure saying “it was an accident, like when you were a kid and called your teacher ‘mom’” to his girlfriend wouldn’t bode well.

He knows he’s probably overreacting, but he’s never fuckin’ felt like this about someone before! He thought he’d known what love was; he thought he’d been in love in his past relationships. But he’s always said the words too fast, threw himself head first into the deep end. And yeah, he had loved them, in a way—cared about them, wanted them to care for him, too. But this? The all-encompassing affection and support you gave him? Your acceptance of him? He’s never had this before.

He’s never had someone want him fully as he is. And he wanted you the same way, loved every fuckin’ inch of you. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of you; wants you by his side, forever. He feels so much that it scares him. And the thought of you not feeling the same, of you not wanting what he did—of his confession of love being something one-sided.

Adam was fucking terrified.

But he can’t run away. He knows he can’t. He always did, and always came back when it was far too late—when people were done with him. He won’t do that with you.

So he takes the steps up to your apartment one by one, trudging slowly, the loaf of bread held to his chest as if it would protect him somehow. He fumbles with the key in the lock, finally pushing through the door and kicking it closed behind him. Looking up, he freezes, heart leaping into his throat. There you were, sat on the couch.

“… I thought you’d be at work,” he says after a moment, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He forces his body into movement, numbly going to put the bread on the countertop before setting down his backpack and removing the empty containers from his lunch. He can feel your eyes on him even if he isn’t looking at you; it makes him hunch his shoulders up to his ears.

“I had a meeting get canceled,” you inform him, voice holding on to a certain edge even while your tone is light. There’s silence, Adam trying to pretend like he’s busy in the kitchen even though it’s pretty obvious he isn’t. “Sackler.” There’s that stern-yet-fond tone he loves hearing so much, and it’s impossible for him to ignore you. He chances turning around, giving you what he hopes is a blank look.

“Will you please come here?” You’re practically batting your eyelashes at him at this point, and his brain is telling him that you’re definitely up to something. But then, you’re standing up, and he registers you’re wearing his favorite tiny tank top—and nothing else—and he finds his feet tripping over to you before he can help it.

“Fuck, kid, look at you.” He breathes, hands reaching out greedily to grab at your tits, the softness of your hips, your bare ass. You laugh, pushing him down onto the couch, pressing your hand between his legs as you lean in to kiss him. He groans, bucking his hips up, already impatient. Shit, it would be so easy to just slip down the waistband of his shorts, yank you down onto his cock—

“Thank you for getting the bread,” you murmur against his lips, leaning over him, one knee on the couch. Adam lets out a strangled sort of laugh.

“This is because I got bread?” he asks, incredulous. You nod, and he still doesn’t believe you, but fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re pulling his hand between your thighs and his fingers are delving on instinct. You’re wet. Wetter than you normally are starting out like this. He swallows hard as he finds your entrance, as three of his thick fingers slip in easily.

“Fuuuuuhhck,” he groans, dark eyes flicking up to meet your gaze, “-you dirty fuckin’ girl. Did you get yourself all ready for me? Too eager for my big cock to wait?” He can’t help the grin that spreads across his face as you whine, your hands tugging insistently at his shorts. He’s quick to help you pull them down along with his briefs, the both of you scrambling to be connected.

The second you slide down onto his cock he’s throwing his head back, thighs straining as he tries not to thrust into you with abandon. “Always so fuckin’ good,” he bites out, jaw clenched and voice all gravelly. His hands find your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he prepares to guide you at a punishing pace.

But then one of your hands is finding his face, angling him to look at you while your other hand balls itself in his shirt—and fuck, he hadn’t even had time to get his shirt off yet.

“Adam,” you say, all breathless, clenching around his cock in a way that has him grunting in response, almost fuckin’ shaking with need. You say his name again as you tug on his shirt, pulling the fabric up his chest. He reluctantly lets go of your hips in order to help get the offending garment off his torso, but then he’s right back to you, hands squeezing your ass.

“C’mon, baby, need you to move. Need to feel this tight fuckin’ pussy riding me.” His voice is little more than a growl, and he pulls you in to crash his lips to yours before you can respond. He’s overwhelmed, needy, previous anxiety forgotten—he forgot most things when you were so tight and warm and wet around him.

He plants his boot covered feet on the ground and thrusts upwards, a broken moan leaving his chest as you gasp into his mouth. You plant your hands on his shoulders and he thinks finally, you’re going to give him what he so badly needs. But then you’re pulling away from him, settling into his lap like you had all the time in the world, a little smirk on your face.

“We need to talk, Adam.”

He stares at you, gobsmacked; his cock does a little twitch inside of you, like it’s as confused as he is. “Talk? Now?” You nod, resolute, and Adam let’s out a long, hot breath through his nose. “What,” he bites out, palms kneading your ass; he thinks maybe his eye twitches, “—do we need to talk about?”

“Did you mean it this morning?” Your voice is all quiet as you run your fingertips over his french braids, then down to curl his loose hair behind his ears. “When you said you loved me?”

Adam’s mind—so singularly focused on fucking you—grinds to a complete halt. He gapes at you, unable to come up with any sort of excuse, any sort of witty counter to your question. It’s then that he realizes what you’ve done, you little fuckin’ minx—you’ve weaponized sex against him!

You fuckin’ knew he wouldn’t be able to think like this. Maybe he should be mad, but he knows--he knows this is exactly what he needs. So he closes his mouth, swallowing hard and sliding his hands from your ass to the small of your back, holding you close.

“Yes.” It’s shaky, falling from his lips. He tries to make his voice more firm. “I love you.” And then, just to double down on it: “I’m so in love with you it scares the shit outta me. I love fuckin’—everything about you. I never wanna love anyone else ever again, not if it's not you.”

His heart is beating wild in his chest, and the pervy little part of his brain wonders if you can feel it through his dick. You lean in and kiss him all slow, squeezing your perfect fuckin’ pussy around him, and his hands move further up your back to pull you into him. He feels unsteady, like he’s jumped off a precipice into the unknown. He’s dizzy with the relief of his confession, with the worry of your reaction even as you kiss him, with the feeling of such a tight, slick, heat around his cock.

“I love you, too.”

He almost misses it with the way you murmur it into the corner of his mouth and with his head spinning from overstimulation. He blinks at you, giving you those big brown eyes and his jaw works as his mind catches up to speed. You smile, dropping more kisses over his strong features, then laugh when he finally yanks his head back to stare at you, his breath catching in his chest.

“You love me.” It’s not a question, but more of a confirmation; him reassuring himself that what he’d heard was real. You nod, hands smoothing over his broad shoulders, down his biceps. His eyes search yours as his hips shift underneath you, making you sigh happily. Something in him snaps.

He re-positions his feet on the floor, one of his hands gripping your hip and the other wrapped around the back of your neck. Your eyes widen, and you have a split second to balance yourself against his chest before he’s snapping his hips up, fucking into you at a frantic pace. The gasp you make is music to his fuckin’ ears.

“Say it again.” He growls at you, gaze drifting over your body, watching the way your tits bounce with his thrusts. “Say it.”

“I love you.”

Your words make him moan, and he doesn’t care how ridiculous he sounds. “Again,” he demands, voice ragged, and you obey—you say it over and over again until his mind is filled with it, the words a soothing balm for all his insecurities. You cry out, trembling in his lap, his cock deep inside you, and Adam is overcome.

He holds you there, the hand on your neck moving between your legs to rub quick circles on your clit. “I fuckin’ love you too, goddamn, this tight little pussy. You gonna cum for me? Cum all over my big fuckin’ cock?” He’s panting, staring you down, not letting you look away. “Fuckin’—say it when you cum. Please—please.”

You nod quickly, mouth hanging open, squirming so deliciously on his cock as your cunt gets tighter and tighter around him. He isn’t sure he’s even breathing, fingers moving desperately as you sob out his name, hips jerking in his lap. Your hands clutch at him, fingers raking at his chest as you chant I love you, I love you, the words all broken by your cries and whines. It’s fuckin’ beautiful.

“Fuuuuhhhhck.” Adam groans between gritted teeth, eyes rolling back in his head as your pussy squeezes his cock like it’s trying to milk him, like it’s begging for all his fuckin’ cum. He lets out loud, feral, shuddering breaths, trying to hold back—he isn’t done with you yet. “Oh, you feel so fuckin’ good, jeeeezus.” His words sound all strangled, and he has just the smallest bit of sense to wrap his arms around you when you slump into his chest.

Your breaths are short little pants against his neck, and he closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of them—of you in general, the weight of you on top of him, your sticky skin against his, your body heat. “I love you.” He croaks out, saying it again just because he can. You hum in response, nuzzling your face closer; it makes him smile.

He trails the pads of his fingers down your spine and then back up, feeling the texture of your skin. You were his. His to touch, to kiss, to hold, to love.

He was yours.

It’s a heady, hopeful thought that tastes like the future.

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