#no wonder he ended up running around new york on all fours dressed up as a scorpion amirite fellas

[telltalebatman]

a very fun thing about frankie and mac's sex life is that frankie explicitly asks mac to be mean and sadistic, and after he does, she tearfully asks "d-do you really think i talk too much?? :(((((" even though SHE was the one who pestered HIM for a week to act like he's had enough for her talking

[bellaxgiornata]

The Devil at Your Window |1: Snowed In|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 8k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series summary: In the middle of a New York City blizzard, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen accidentally lands himself on your fire escape–quite literally. When he accepts your invitation to warm up inside your apartment, you're surprised at how well the conversation flows all night with the curious and attractive masked vigilante. He's intriguing, though what you find even more intriguing is his unexpected returns to your window after that night–and his flirting. But when it seems like you're not the only one beginning to develop real feelings, he pulls back and you're left wondering two things: Why did he disappear and who really is the mysterious Devil that you've inevitably fallen for?

a/n: Just a short collection of one shots that I'll update whenever the ideas strike. It'll be told in a style like Falling for the Devil but it won't get nearly as long (unless y'all end up loving it, too). I just couldn't deny giving us all the fantasy of black suit Matt reappearing at your apartment window and all the flirting, sexual tension, feelings, and naughty things that might ensue... The installment list for this little series can be found here and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer

Picking up the steaming mug of tea you’d just finished making from off the kitchen counter, you cradled your other hand around the warmth of the ceramic and drew it towards your chest as you turned and headed back towards your living room. The small spot of heat against the front of your sweatshirt caused a shiver to run down your spine as your sock-clad feet padded along the cold hardwood floor and back towards your couch. 

It was freezing inside your apartment tonight and the blustering snow storm raging outside in Hell’s Kitchen wasn't helping. Thankfully your office had already announced its closure for tomorrow before you'd finished work earlier this evening. The snow had already started to dump from the sky before you’d even left the office, falling heavy and wild as it accumulated in a cover of white that blanketed everything in the city. It would have been beautiful if you hadn’t needed to walk home afterwards in the frigid mess–especially with the way the large clumps of snowflakes pelted and battered you in the face over and over, the cold stinging at your skin. 

The city was expected to get a whopping eighteen inches of snowfall minimum over the next twenty-four hours, so you were grateful that your boss wanted as little to do with making it into work tomorrow as you did, especially because you couldn’t afford to do anything but walk to the office. The last thing you wanted to do was trudge through all of that mess and slip on a patch of ice, inevitably falling in a massive pile of snow and leaving you stuck in damp dress clothes all day. 

No, you'd rather stay dry and cozy at home enjoying a lazy day off of work.

You were just hoping the power in your apartment building remained intact throughout the fury of the winter storm. You didn’t want to think about losing the heat in your building in the middle of all of this. Another shiver ran through you as you pushed the thought away–hopefully not something you’d need to worry about tonight. 

But since you didn’t have work first thing in the morning, you had every intention of enjoying your night. You’d immediately come home and thrown off your dress clothes before settling on something comfortable–soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt sans bra underneath. Then you’d made dinner and cleaned it up fast before claiming your ‘spot’ for the evening on your couch. Which consisted of both of your blankets and the television remote while you binged a guilty pleasure show that you hadn’t had time to catch up on for the past few weeks. Tonight you were intending to stay up a bit late, cozy up beneath your blankets, drink some hot tea, and lose yourself in the plot and romance of the show before eventually dragging your tired ass to bed in the hopes of sleeping in tomorrow to make up for staying up late. 

Eyes focused on the paused television screen as you moved, you rounded the side of your couch while drawing your steaming mug up to your lips. You sipped at the warm liquid, reveling in it for a moment before you swallowed it down. You could feel it heat you from the inside out as a pleasant sensation washed over you. Your eyes closed briefly for a moment–it was the first time you’d actually felt warm today. 

Opening your eyes, you continued towards the couch and began to lower yourself down onto the cushions while trying not to spill any of your tea from the mug. Just as you were about to sit back down on the couch and cocoon yourself in both of your blankets, ready to settle in for more of your show, something outside the window to your right caught your attention. Your head spun in the direction just as a flash of black dashed past the window and a loud bang reverberated through your apartment. 

A frightened yelp slipped out of you at the sound and you clutched your mug tight to your chest, your heart thudding heavily in terror. Whatever had just literally dropped onto your fire escape had been large, especially with the sound of that impact. Sucking in a breath, you held it as you stared transfixed at the window, almost ridiculously terrified it would be some sort of wild animal–like a bear or a wolf–on your fire escape. 

Though, more realistically considering you were in New York City, you knew it was probably a burglar. Who else would be traversing fire escapes late at night? Especially dressed in all dark clothes? Except…that also seemed a little ridiculous, too. There was a literal blizzard happening outside, meaning everyone would be home. In their apartments. Making it impossible for a burglar to break into anyone’s place unseen. Plus, it was insane outside, what criminal would risk dealing with that right now?

So what the hell had just fallen onto your fire escape?

Another thought struck you soon after and your lips parted in shock at the idea as you blew out the breath you’d been holding. With trembling hands, you very slowly reached out, carefully placing your mug of tea onto the coffee table before you without taking your eyes off of your window. Gradually, almost nervously, you rose to your feet before taking hesitant step after hesitant step forward. Another sharp, surprised gasp flew out of you when you saw the dark figure sit upright on your fire escape, bent in half as if they were in pain. Which made sense, considering the fall they’d just taken.

But your body froze up instantly at the sight of the man dressed in all black bent in half and dusted in white patches of snow. He wasn’t a burglar at all. With the black cloth tied over his head and the form fitting shirt he was wearing, there was absolutely no mistaking who he was. You'd certainly seen enough images of him plastered across the media. 

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just fallen onto your fire escape.

Eyes widening in shock at the infamous vigilante attempting to pull himself up to his feet, one of his gloved hands holding onto the metal railing of your fire escape, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to check on him. To make sure he wasn’t seriously injured from that fall. 

Without thinking your actions through, you crossed the last few steps to the window and unlatched the locks before pushing it up. The masked figure immediately spun towards you at the sound as a bitter gust of wind burst its way into your apartment, chilling you instantly while those thick snowflakes once again assailed your face. For a moment you locked eyes with him–or at least, it seemed like you did despite the fabric covering half of his face–as your mouth hung open. You suddenly found yourself at a loss of what to say in the moment. And considering the way his lips thinned out along his face and the way he remained silent, he clearly wasn’t going to strike up a conversation with you, either.

Eyes darting down, you saw he had one gloved hand clutching at his right side as if it hurt him. His shoulders were hunched in on himself as his back faced the violent winds blowing snow relentlessly. Seeing him in person for the first time ever–something you’d never expected in your life considering how elusive the media made him out to be–you realized just how thin and unprotective his clothes really were. Especially tonight considering the cold weather. He had to be freezing.

An icy wind whistled loudly, another flurry of heavy snowflakes pelting you right in the face and breaking you from your thoughts. Blinking the snow from your lashes, you finally found your voice. 

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, unsure how one should approach the masked man. “I just–just saw you fall. It looked like it hurt.”

He gave a curt shake of his head, wincing before he turned more towards the railing. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he replied.

Something warm flooded your veins at the gravelly tone of his voice. It suited him somehow, even if it sounded fake. Like he was pitching his voice lower to sound like someone else in order to hide his identity. Not that you'd probably have recognized him anyway. 

With his back partially to you now, especially this close when there was barely a few feet of space between the pair of you, you could see just how incredibly muscular this man was. His black shirt clung to him like a second skin, the toned abdominal muscles on his upper body clearly visible even from just his profile. Even the pectoral muscles of his chest were well defined and visible beneath the sheen of black. His arms were thick–far too big for just one of your hands to wrap around. And as your gaze lingered lower, you fought back the thoughts that entered your mind at the sight of how large his thighs were in those tight pants–and how pleasant a profile his ass also had. You wondered briefly if he'd gained all that from working out or if it had more to do with his nightly activities.

Though when you saw him grab onto the metal railing of your fire escape with both of his gloved hands, the movement drawing your attention away from observing him as he attempted to swing himself over it, you nearly screamed as you lurched forward. You lived on the fifth floor, was this man really about to fling himself off of the fire escape from all the way up here? 

But the scream died in your throat the moment he cried out in pain, his feet slipping from off of the railing as he fell back onto your fire escape. He let out a hiss of pain as he clutched at his clearly injured side.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out, shoving the window open wider despite the cold and snow and leaning further forward. “You’re clearly not okay. Do you need something? An ambulance or something? Is there someone I can call? Or–or something I can do to help?”

The man rolled off his injured side and onto his back, gradually turning towards you as he lay on the fire escape. You hadn’t expected the amused and pained chuckle he emitted while the snow accumulated on the entire front of him, lightly covering the thin layer of his black shirt. Which you’d noticed had ridden up, revealing a small sliver of skin just above the dark, form fitting pants he was wearing. You tried hard to not keep glancing back at that patch of skin as it slowly rose higher and higher, unsure why you were so distracted by it.

The sound of his amusement soon drew you back to the moment and you cringed. Why the hell was he laughing?

“Are you alright? Did you…hit your head?” you asked him cautiously. “Maybe you have a concussion…”

Another amused sound slipped out of him, but that was quickly followed by a pained groan as he tried to once again rise up onto his feet. “I don’t have a concussion,” he assured you.

“You sure?” you asked, an eyebrow arching onto your forehead as you crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm when you began to shiver from the cold. “Because this doesn’t seem like a funny situation to me.”

“Well,” he grunted out, wincing as he drew back up to his full height, “normally I’m the one offering assistance, not the other way around. So yeah,” he continued with a faint shrug, your eyes once again catching the way he was holding his side, “it’s kind of amusing. In an…irritating sort of way.”

Your heart sank to your stomach at his words. “Oh, sorry,” you muttered, heat rushing up to your face instantly. “I didn’t mean to be annoying. I was just concerned–”

He took a half step forward, cutting you off as he waved a hand between the pair of you. He shook his head, letting out a slight huff of laughter. “No, I didn’t mean you were irritating. Just…this situation. The–the snow and the falling part.” In a quieter voice he added, “And having an audience for it.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you stood there studying him for a moment. He was injured and wearing barely anything at all in the middle of a blizzard. He looked like he needed help even if he seemed like the type not to ask for it.

“Do you want to come inside?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. “I mean, to get warm and maybe sit down for a moment? I could call an ambulance or–or a taxi or something to bring you to a hospital.”

Another amused huff of laughter slipped out of him as he shook his head. “No hospitals, please. I’ll be alright. But…if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind a moment to warm up.” His gloved hand lowered, pinching a bit of fabric from his shirt as he glanced down at it. “Admittedly this doesn’t offer much protection from the elements.”

You eyed the thin material between his gloves doubtfully. “Doesn’t look like it offers much protection from anything,” you told him.

A surprised bark of laughter peeled out of him, the sound drawing a smile onto your face. You’d made the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen laugh. Now that was something you weren’t going to forget anytime soon. He didn’t seem like the type to break character easily.

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” he agreed, his laughter subsiding.

Taking a step back from the window, you waved a hand towards him, gesturing for him to come inside. “How about you come in so I can close this window and we both can stop freezing?” you suggested, surprised at how bold you sounded considering who it was you were speaking with. “I’m shivering already so I can only imagine how cold you must be.”

You watched as his lips curled up into a charming grin at the corners, just beneath the black fabric of his mask. It was impossible to deny that he had a handsome face–at least, from what you could see of it. You imagined the rest of it to be just as attractive beneath that cloth and a sudden intense curiosity to know what the rest of it looked like overtook you as you watched him carefully climb through your opened window. He moved slowly, wincing in pain as he made his way inside. Despite his tough act, that fall must’ve really hurt his side and you frowned, wishing he’d accept your offer to help. There was no way he was as fine as he claimed to be, surely he needed medical attention.

“Takes a special kind of person to just invite me into their home so readily,” the Devil’s rough tone came out as he turned his back to you, shutting the window after himself. “Normally people prefer to avoid me.”

“You’re not dangerous,” you replied almost instantly.

The window closed with a sharp clack before his masked face turned over his snow-dusted shoulder, his attention fixed on you. “Oh?” he asked curiously, a smirk growing over his lips. “I’m not?”

Your eyes were drawn to his mouth, though it wasn’t like there was anywhere else to look when you spoke to him with that mask covering most of his face. The smirk appeared teasing, and for some reason that had the hair on the back of your neck bristling. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra beneath your loose sweatshirt and it was now cold in your apartment. Quickly your arms wrapped over your chest, hugging yourself tight. His lips almost seemed to curl ever higher in response.

“I mean, you are ,” you amended, “but to, you know, criminals.” 

You swallowed hard when he remained still, gazing at you over his shoulder wordlessly.There was something almost predatory in the way he was studying you. It was easy to see how this lone man terrified the criminals on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, striking fear into them. He certainly had a presence. Goosebumps rippled beneath the sleeves of your sweatshirt at his continued silent stare.

“Right?” you asked tentatively, voice softer.

His smirk vanished as the other corner of his mouth curled upwards into what felt like a warm smile despite you being unable to see if it reached his eyes. He nodded gently, turning slowly back towards you as he did. 

“That's correct,” he agreed, brushing the snow from his broad shoulders. “I’m only dangerous to criminals. So unless you’re hiding any dead bodies or have some outstanding charges…?”

You laughed, though abruptly you snatched your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to quiet the noise instantly. He was witty and funny. You weren’t anticipating that. Or the way your reaction to his quips seemed to please him, like he was trying to charm you. Which seemed even more curious, considering who he was and what he spent his nights doing. 

“Can't say that I do,” you said. “I'm probably the most boring person in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Well now,” he replied teasingly, “don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you're not taking that title  all by yourself.” 

That charming smile was back on his face and it had your stomach fluttering. Tearing your eyes away from him, you noticed the television was still paused on your show. Paused on a scene where the two actors on screen were clearly about to kiss. Cheeks burning, you hurried over and grabbed the remote from the couch and turned it off. 

“You can make yourself comfortable if you want,” you told him, trying to keep the embarrassment out of your tone. “I've got a couple of blankets you can use to help warm you up.”

His heavy boots thudded with each of his steps as he crossed the room and made his way to the couch. You bent over, grabbing both blankets from your place on the couch where you'd previously been curled up as he passed behind you. The moment one of his cold gloves brushed against your back, you froze.

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

“No it's–it's fine,” you replied. 

He passed behind you before settling onto the opposite end of the couch from where you had clearly taken residence. You forced a smile onto your face as you turned and leaned over, holding out the blankets towards him. 

Pull yourself together , you internally chastised yourself. Just because it's been a while since you've had a man here doesn't mean you need to react to every little thing. That's not what this is, obviously. 

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the blankets from your outstretched hand. 

You nodded before sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping space between you and him. Curling your legs up under yourself, you watched as the Devil wasted no time throwing both blankets around himself, beginning to visibly shiver beneath them as he tried to warm up.

“Are you sure you don't want me to call anyone?” you asked him.

“No one to call,” he answered. “And a hospital would defeat the purpose of trying to remain anonymous.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you muttered, glancing away and spotting the forgotten tea on your coffee table. “Would you like something to drink at least? Some water or some hot tea, maybe?”

His masked head tilted curiously to the side at your question, a grin returning to his plush lips. “Playing hostess?” he asked. 

“Well I'm sure you've got to be thirsty running around Hell’s Kitchen and fighting criminals all the time,” you explained. “I always sort of wondered if you stashed water bottles around the city or stopped for water breaks somewhere–not where you live, I imagine. Since you're trying to keep your identity hidden.” Your eyes narrowed as you added, “Or do you just let yourself get dehydrated every time you're out? Because that's not good for you, you know.”

The Devil's grin grew wider as he shifted on the couch, facing you even more from his place on the cushions. “Oh?” he asked, curiosity in his tone. “You've thought about me before, have you?”

Eyes dropping down to your lap, you smiled sheepishly as you shrugged. “I mean, I've had some theories circulating about you ever since you kept reappearing in the news,” you admitted awkwardly. “Sort of hard not to.”

“Well now you have to indulge me,” he teased. “Enlighten me on some of these theories of yours.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you continued to avoid his covered stare. “I mean, they're not that interesting…”

“Oh come on,” he tried again. “It's not like we don't have the time. And maybe I can confirm or deny some of them for you. Besides, I admit I’m curious to know what you think of me. Especially being so willing to offer help like you did.”

Chewing your bottom lip, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes. He looked far less intimidating beneath your blush pink blanket now. What would it hurt if you told him a few of your ideas about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Maybe he might laugh at them, but would hearing that sound again be all that bad? And it truly would be interesting to learn more about the mysterious vigilante, something you'd probably never have the opportunity to do again. 

“Okay,” you agreed with a nod. Straightening up on the couch, you turned to face him more fully. “So I've always thought with the way that you fight that you were trained by some sort of secret ninja assassin organization.”

A hearty chuckle filled your living room at your first theory. The pleasant and resonant noise left you grinning as your stomach fluttered in response. You briefly wondered how often the Devil actually laughed when he was out. 

“I cannot confirm nor deny that,” he responded. 

The playful smile that kept appearing on his face was beginning to further disarm you. You found yourself enjoying his company, soon becoming used to the way half his face was hidden from sight with that ridiculous fabric. And for some reason your unexplainable attraction to him was only growing. 

“Next theory,” he prodded, the smile on his face apparent even in his voice. 

“You're not wealthy,” you stated, leaning forward and grabbing your tea from the coffee table.

“Oh, ow,” he joked, playfully recoiling back from you on the couch. “What makes you say that?”

You waved a hand at him across from you as you settled back into the cushions, mug in hand. “Because you wear clothing that is obviously not meant to protect you very well in a fight,” you answered. “I imagine if you had money you'd have something…nicer. Meant for what you do. And,” you continued, pausing long enough to drink down some of your now barely warm tea, aware of him focused on you, “you protect Hell’s Kitchen. Only Hell’s Kitchen. This part of the city isn't exactly filled with the wealthiest people. And with how dedicated you are to everyone here, I assume it's because you probably grew up here yourself. Most likely still reside here, too.”

The Devil hummed appreciatively when you'd quieted, his masked gaze still on you. You swore you could feel it as you drank down more of your tea.

“You're observant,” he mused. “Maybe I need to watch myself around you.”

A surge of pride swelled in your chest; you hadn't expected his praise. Or the way it would make you feel. And apparently, you'd guessed something right about him. 

“You're also not married or in a serious relationship,” you blurted before you could help yourself, wondering what more you could learn about him.

“Poor and unlovable?” the Devil asked with a surprised laugh. “That's what you think of me?”

“No,” you disagreed, laughing a little with him as you shook your head. “No, but I mean, I imagine you don't have time for someone else. And I figure most people wouldn’t like their partner going out and doing what you do. Putting yourself in danger.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, shifting on the couch and making himself more comfortable. “A partner would certainly be…a distraction. A liability. One I couldn't really afford to have. So no, you're not wrong, I don't have one.”

You glanced down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with the mug in your hands. Half of you was hoping to hear that he wasn't with anyone–though you refused to admit to yourself why that mattered–but the other half of you had heard the way he'd said that a partner would be a distracting liability and you’d felt a sad pang hit you in the chest. Considering how much he seemed to be enjoying your company when he didn't even know you had you guessing that the Devil was a lonely man deep down. 

But that wasn't a theory you felt comfortable sharing. 

“Any others?” he asked, breaking through your thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you focused back on him across the couch from you. His smile had disappeared, his lips now downturned at the corners just a bit. His posture had changed in your silence, the same as his mood, as if he'd picked up on the subtle change in yours somehow. 

Strange.

“I imagine you're the kind of guy who's fridge is always empty,” you answered.

A ghost of a smile reappeared on his face as he huffed out an amused breath. You couldn't fight the smile returning to your own lips at the sight of his again. 

“Well hey now,” he countered lightly, “there's usually beer. Sometimes orange juice and eggs.”

You giggled, unable to stop yourself. “Who'd have guessed the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is just your average bachelor?” 

“Average?” he repeated in mock offense, his head tilting to the side. “I'm just average now?”

Quirking a brow at him in a challenging manner, your own head cocked to the side. “Maybe tell me more about yourself and I could say otherwise,” you boldly teased back. 

“Well obviously,” he began, grinning at you in a way that had your body heating, “I can't exactly do that now can I? Defeats the purpose–

“Of remaining anonymous,” you finished for him. “I've picked up on the importance of that.” 

A silence soon settled between the pair of you, one that slowly began to cause your nerves to grow with the way he kept smiling at you. Once again you desperately found yourself wanting to see the rest of his face, curious to know just how handsome he really was under that black mask. Though you settled for studying what you could see, your eyes tracing the soft curves of his pink lips, noticing the way they very minutely twitched under your scrutiny. Eventually your gaze dropped down, following the hard lines of his stubbled jaw. As your eyes trailed further down, they lingered on the part of his neck that wasn't covered by the blankets he’d wrapped around himself for warmth. A heat burned in you as the urge to reach out and just touch him, just to see if he was real, suddenly grew within you. It didn't help that it almost felt like you could feel the weight of his own eyes fixed on you beneath the mask, once again making you very aware of your lack of bra beneath your sweatshirt.

Catching your lip between your teeth, you noticed the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow. Had he been having similar thoughts? Observing you, too? 

Inhaling a sharp breath through your nose at the idea, you knew you needed to stop this line of thinking and stop it fast. There was absolutely no way the Devil would be interested in you. Certainly not like that. That was absurd.

“Would you like something to eat?” you asked, trying to calm your pulse. “If your fridge is empty all the time I'm guessing you could use something to eat.”

“I mean, I suppose if you’re–”

He stopped short the exact moment that the lights died, throwing the pair of you into almost complete darkness. You sucked in a breath, turning to look out the window just to your right. It was eerily dark outside, a sight that was rare in the city. Even the buildings across the street had been thrown into darkness. There was nothing but the howling wind and snow outside.

“Guess it was too much to hope the power wouldn’t go out in this mess,” you breathed out.

“I suppose so,” he replied, his tone just as soft.

Reaching blindly forward, you set your almost empty mug onto the coffee table before you. For a moment you reached around on the surface until your fingers brushed against your phone. You picked it up and unlocked the screen, grateful for the bit of light it shed in the dark as you turned on the flashlight function.

“So I can’t offer you a nice cooked meal without power,” you told him, rising to your feet, “but I can get you an apple and a couple of protein bars? If you’d…like?”

“You don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it,” he said.

“It’s the least I can do for the man who does so much for the rest of us,” you told him, maneuvering around the couch and navigating your way to the kitchen by the light of your phone. “I’d feel awful leaving you hungry and dehydrated.”

Wrapping one arm around your chest to try to fight the chill that had been steadily creeping into you, you headed towards a cabinet near the sink. Reaching up, you grabbed a glass from out of it before taking a moment to fill it beneath the faucet before setting it along the countertop. Then you plucked an apple out of a fruit bowl on your counter, taking a moment to rinse it off first. The moment you’d turned off the faucet you heard his voice from across the apartment.

“You’re cold.”

For a moment you found it odd how his words hadn’t come out as a question but more of an observation, though you quickly shrugged the strangeness of that aside. You set the apple down on the counter beside the glass of water before sliding a step to your right and opening up another cabinet.

“It’s alright, I’m fine,” you answered, trying to shine the light from your phone into the cabinet to read the labels on the boxes. “I wasn’t the one out in that snowstorm wearing barely anything at all.”

“You say that like I was out there naked.”

His voice had unexpectedly come from just behind you this time and it jolted your heart in your chest instantly. His sudden proximity mixed with his word choice had you startling on the spot. Your hand that had been about to pull the box of protein bars out of the cabinet accidentally bumped it instead, causing the entire box to slip off of the shelf. But before it could tumble to the floor and spill its contents, a black gloved hand darted out beside your face, catching it before it had barely fallen six inches. 

You stood there rooted to the spot, his hand just brushing your arm as his held the box of protein bars. The hair on the back of your neck had risen, aware that he was standing barely a foot behind you now. Slowly, you turned over your shoulder to look at him. Your pulse quickened further at how close his face was to yours. He was looking at you, too. Or at least, he was facing you. Eyes dropping down, you couldn’t help but notice that mouth of his again. 

“I apologize,” he said, your eyes watching as his lips moved. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Sometimes I forget how quiet I can be. I just wanted to give you one of the blankets. No sense in me using both when you’re cold.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to form any other response.

With his attention still on you, he reached up and slid the box back onto the shelf. Then he seemed to take a purposeful step back from you, his lips set in a straight line. You wondered what was going on in his mind right now, because you were sure there had to be something. Had he felt the tension you’d just felt? Or were you just ridiculous and overly hopeful?

And why did it even matter? You were never going to see this man again after tonight anyway.

Blinking a few times, you returned your attention to the shelf. Reaching up, you slid your hand into the box that had nearly taken a nosedive to your kitchen floor and pulled out two protein bars. Keeping your eyes actively focused away from the Devil nearby, you closed the cabinet and slid a step back to your left, grabbing the glass of water in your hand with your phone and the apple in the same hand as the bars. Though before you could turn around, you felt something gently drape over your shoulders. Looking down, you noticed it was the pink blanket he’d been wearing.

“Like I said,” he repeated, “there’s no sense in me using both.”

“Right,” you whispered, pulse pounding in your throat.

Turning on your heel, you stepped past him and made your way back to the living room by the light of your phone. This time you heard the heavy steps of him following after you. You assumed that was intentional.

“So why were you out in this blizzard tonight anyway?” you asked him, making your way around the couch. You hoped having something to talk about would distract you from whatever it was he kept stirring inside of you. “Surely there aren’t a lot of crimes being committed in this weather?”

The Devil let out a light laugh as he accepted the offered glass of water and food from you. One of your brows quirked curiously onto your forehead at his reaction as you sat back down in your original spot on the couch. Though you noticed as he took a large drink from the cup while lowering himself onto the cushions that he’d sat closer to you than before. You watched as he ripped open a protein bar and tore off a large bite next, but he didn't answer until a moment later when he’d swallowed the bite down. Internally you noted he must’ve been hungrier than he let on with the way he was devouring that bar and you’d wished you’d had more food to offer him with the power out.

“You’d be correct,” he told you. “And yet I still stupidly made my way out into this storm tonight in the hopes of catching a lead on something. Instead all I got was my ass frozen and my side bruised.” 

You watched as he took another large bite of the protein bar, chewing it almost contemplatively as his head canted to the side. You could still see him in the beam of light from your phone which you were still clutching in your hand. Somehow this lighting made him even more appealing as it cast sharp shadows along his jaw.

“Though I suppose unexpectedly meeting you was a highlight,” he added, causing your cheeks to flush. “But you know, you never did give me your name.”

“Well you never exactly gave me yours,” you immediately quipped back.

Those beautiful lips of his curved upwards yet again as he chewed the last bite of the first protein bar. What you wouldn’t give to see if that smile had reached his eyes.

“Alright, point taken,” he replied. 

Tearing your gaze away from him, you focused on your phone. If you kept the flashlight running the battery would die in no time. And who knew how long the power might be out for, you might need it later. You supposed you didn't need it on just for a conversation.

“I’m going to turn the flashlight off on my phone for now, if that's alright?” you told him, fingers darting across the screen to do just that. “Might need the battery on this later.”

“That’s alright,” he replied, sounding as if he was chewing another bite of food. “I don’t need it.”

He’d made the comment just as you’d leaned forward to set your phone back onto the coffee table, but you’d paused as the words processed in your mind. Your eyes narrowed again as your mind raced. Something about the way he’d said that sounded as if it had another meaning to it. But before you could put too much thought into it, he’d changed the topic.

“You’re still cold,” he pointed out. “That blanket alone isn't helping.”

Brows furrowing together as you slowly sat back, you wondered how he could possibly know that. The pair of you were in almost pitch black again with your phone flashlight off. It wasn't like he could see you and you hadn't been shivering, though there were definitely goosebumps dotting your skin. How could he possibly know? 

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling the blanket you had on tighter around yourself. “It’s bound to get colder here with the power out now.”

“And with how long you had your window open earlier,” he added. “The temperature is going to drop in here faster than it would have if you hadn’t helped me.”

You sighed, frowning in his general direction. “So much for being able to help you warm up,” you muttered. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he assured you.

It felt as if he was shifting on the couch nearby. Your brows knitted further together as you tried to make out what he was doing through the dark. All you could see was a faint mass of black that seemed darker than the rest of the blackness. Then moments later you felt a blanket being draped over your lap. 

“No, uh uh,” you said, shaking your head and immediately grabbing the blanket. “There’s two blankets, we can clearly share.”

“You’re freezing,” he countered. 

“And you’re not cold?” you shot back.

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve already been far kinder than I deserved this evening,” he replied.

You grabbed the blanket in your hands and stubbornly tossed it back in his general direction. An audible sigh sounded through the darkness to your left.

“You know I can just leave, right?” he told you. “Which would leave you with no reason to not use both blankets.”

Your eyes narrowed in the direction of the sound of his voice. “But then you’d be allowing more cold air into my apartment, which would only make the temperature drop faster in here,” you argued back. “Then I'd really be cold.”

He breathed out a laugh and you imagined the smile on his lips at the sound. You smiled triumphantly back at the dark shape of him because you knew you had a good point. Even though really, you could just layer on more clothes.

“Okay,” he relented. “That’s true. So how about…we share?”

The smile on your face quickly disappeared at his suggestion. Mouth dropping open, you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest. It took you a few seconds to regain the ability to respond.

“Share?” you asked.

“Body heat would certainly keep us both warmer,” he answered. “So would sharing two blankets instead of using only one.”

“Oh, uh, well,” you stammered, your mind racing at the thought of your body pressed up against his. “I–I–”

His deep laugh rumbled towards you through the darkness, the sound causing your lips to clamp shut. 

“I’m not suggesting anything immoral,” he assured you. “Simply a possible solution to the very real problem of us freezing in here. Unless, of course, you’d prefer me to leave?”

“No!” you exclaimed.

Immediately your eyes widened in horror at how quickly you’d responded to that. And judging by his chuckle, he’d also noticed, too. Your face scrunched up as you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so eager to keep him here in your apartment.

“Well in that case, we could share the blankets and our body heat,” he suggested again. “Because the temperature has definitely dropped a few degrees already and it's only going to continue if the power stays out.”

Nervously your tongue slid out, licking your lips. You were trying hard to control the racing of your heart, positive he could hear it with how hard it was beating now. Of course you weren’t going to pass up a chance to basically cuddle the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen for warmth during a snowstorm. You just needed to find a way to not sound so eager to accept his offer first.

“I suppose you…have a point there,” you said slowly, trying to keep your voice even. “That’s–that’s usually what people do in survival situations. Use their body heat to keep warm.”

An amused huff came from him and you realized he’d scooted even closer to you on the couch. Your breath caught in your throat the moment you felt his thigh bump against yours.

“So are we in agreement with sharing both blankets, then?” he asked.

“That–that appears to be the most logical solution to the problem,” you answered. “So yeah, I guess we…share the blankets.”

Despite the lack of light, the Devil seemed to move with ease and fluidity through the darkness, something you were paying close attention to as he gently sidled his way up against the side of you, managing to wrap both blankets around the pair of you. All the while you’d sat pin straight on the couch, aware that he was flush to your side from your shoulder all the way down to your knee. You clasped your hands in your lap, unsure of where else to place them. Truthfully, you had to admit you were already much warmer like this, with his body heat enveloping you beneath both blankets.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone far gentler than it had been all evening. “Because that's not my intention.”

“No,” you answered with a light shake of your head. “You're not.”

He chuckled softly, his body shaking yours slightly with the movement. Your head turned towards him and you wished you could see at least the part of his face that was visible right now.

“Then why are you so tense?” he questioned. 

“I'm not tense!” you lied.

He laughed again, this time louder. The movement jostled you somehow further into his side, though your hand flew out and landed flat on his very solid chest as you tried to stop yourself from falling further into him. Your eyes widened in horror yet again, but before you could push yourself away you felt his arm wrapping around your shoulders and allowing you to sink even more into him. Heat was very much creeping up your neck and reaching your cheeks now in embarrassment. 

“You're very tense actually,” he teased. “If you're uncomfortable I can move, but we aren't going to be sharing much body heat if you don't actually sit next to me.”

Slowly you removed your hand from his chest, lowering it to your lap. Though with the way you were sitting facing partially towards him now, your knuckles were brushing against his thigh. 

“I am not tense,” you grumbled. “And you aren't making me uncomfortable. This is just…awkward. I barely know you and you don't know me.”

“Okay,” he conceded. “How about since you've guessed a few things about me, I think it's only fair you tell me a few things about yourself now.”

“I told you I'm not very interesting,” you reminded him.

“Ah, well,” he replied with a shrug, “I think I'd like to decide that for myself.”

Biting your lip, you turned your burning face and buried it into his shoulder, glad he couldn't see how nervous he'd suddenly made you. It was hard to tell if he was flirting with you or if that was just his vigilante persona–when he wasn't beating people, of course. 

With your nose pressed against the fabric of his shirt, you noticed he smelled surprisingly good. There was the hint of his sweat, but there was also a faint clean detergent scent. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, inhaling a deep breath in. Even though he was still a stranger and a vigilante, he seemed kind and safe so far. And he also hadn't thrown you off of himself for getting even closer to him, either. Maybe you should just do what he seemed to be doing: relax and enjoy the unexpected cuddles tonight with an unexpected acquaintance. 

“Alright, what do you want to know?” you whispered, eyes still closed as you focused on his scent.

Eyes fluttering open, you felt yourself waking from a deep, comfortable sleep. Though your eyes instantly snapped closed against the bright light that immediately assaulted them. Slowly you blinked them back open, trying to adjust to the surprising sunshine pouring through your living room window. Gradually you began to push yourself upright, realizing you were laying with your head on a couch pillow, both of your blankets snuggly wrapped around you. For a moment your face twisted into a look of confusion as you hesitated, staring down at the two blankets. Why had you been asleep on your couch?

But then flashes of last night came back to you. The masked man falling onto your fire escape. The joking and constant banter between the pair of you. Darkness when the power went out and the feel of his warm, muscular body wrapped around yours as he tried to keep you warm. The scent of clean detergent and his sweat. The feel of his spandex shirt against your fingertips and your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder.

Had that all really happened? Or had you just fallen asleep on your couch and dreamt it?

Your attention shifted towards your coffee table and your sluggish brain processed the sight of your almost empty mug of tea, left abandoned all night, and an empty glass of water. Pushing yourself the rest of the way upright on the couch, your head turned over your shoulder. The lock on your living room window was undone.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen really had been in your apartment last night. Which meant the pair of you really had cuddled together for warmth when your power had gone out. And you really did meet him. At least, somewhat.

“Oh my God,” you breathed out in awe. “He was really here.”

But just as the rush of excitement at meeting someone you’d always secretly admired filled you, it quickly vanished. Because you must have fallen asleep on him sometime last night when the pair of you were talking, and then he must’ve slipped out of your apartment before the sun came up, probably when the power had come back on. Which made sense, considering he wouldn’t want to be seen sneaking back to his own apartment in such a conspicuous outfit. 

But what was upsetting you was the growing realization that it wasn’t just the first time you’d met him, but it would most likely be the last. And you’d gone and fallen asleep through part of that meeting.

Stupid stupid stupid.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Caffeine fix and beyond - Part 1

A/N: Did I come up with the worst fic title? Lmao. This is for @elixirfromthestars thank you for hosting the cutest writing challenge ever!

Sitting at the Coffee shop AU table, with some sweet treats - “I’m only doing it because you’re cute.”, “Why don’t you tell me what I can do to make your day better?” & Saying ‘I love you’ for the first time.

Find the writing challenge here ☕️

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: fluff! One bad coffee pun.

Word count: 2.2k

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

“Oh look! It’s my favourite superhero!” you exclaimed, giving the man before you a big grin as he mirrored your action.

“And it’s my favourite barista.”

Tony Stark lowered his sunglasses to greet you, shoving them in his pocket before ordering his usual cup of coffee to go.

Happy Hogan, his head of security or the guy who handed him things - as you formerly knew him, was missing today. That was a first. You got to know about his eccentric habits over the course of time, something which you initially found snooty and borderline narcissistic.

It was a sunny day in New York when the genius billionaire walked into your cafe with a caffeine urge to subdue and an air of indifference. He had cut through the line much to your annoyance but the people waiting didn’t seem to mind since it was the great Iron Man who’d just walked into your humble but prominent shop. After making him wait for a good fifteen minutes before giving him his fix, you were introduced to the man who had been observing you keenly from afar while you worked. As time passed, you got to know the man behind the titanium suit, the funniest, wittiest man you’d come across and a broken superhero you had grown fond of. It had come to a point where on days he wouldn’t show up, you would actually miss him.

“No Happy today?” you wondered out loud, raising your eyebrows when he held his hand out for the cup which you were about to place on the counter.

“He’s feeling under the weather. I’ll let him know you missed him.” he teased, taking a sip of the scalding hot beverage without flinching.

“Please do. You know how much I love him in his suit.” you grinned as Tony chuckled, waving goodbye as you watched the man head out.

“Might stop by later tonight, Y/N!” he called out without turning around, making a few heads turn your way before the superhero disappeared.

Shaking your head fondly, you went about your day, tending to the ever-growing line standing in front of you, all waiting for their favourite coffee.

.

While you rolled out the last of the cinnamon roll batch for the night, you heard the bell outside your door chime, knowing it wouldn’t be anybody other than the man who had quickly become one of your closest companions. He usually ended up in your cafe late at night for a chat, more often than not for a cup or three of his famous Stark brew - as you coined it.

“Are those cinnamon rolls I smell?”

You chuckled hearing his voice float through the empty cafe before the man appeared in the kitchen which was located behind the counter. Dressed in some faded jeans and a band t-shirt, he looked quite relaxed for someone you knew was running on four hours of sleep on a daily basis.

“Yes! Aren’t these a favourite of your best friend? James if I’m not wrong. Ask him to stop by tomorrow, will you?”

One of the things that you loved doing was teasing Tony Stark, the man was so easily annoyed, it was adorable.

“Yeah I’m starting to think you prefer my head of security and my best friend over my company, Y/N.” he narrowed his eyes at you, leaning against one of your work stations while snooping around for snacks.

“Finally you got the hint! You are as smart as they say, Stark.” you poked your tongue out, wiping your hands on your apron before handing him a bag of strawberries which he gratefully accepted.

“Alright, quit it.”

The two of you had quite the chemistry ever since you began talking, it always bordered on flirting and would more often than not lead to banter, something you thoroughly enjoyed and knew he secretly loved too. It had been a privilege getting to know the man behind the Iron persona. The man was generous and kind, he was sweet when he wanted to be and a stubborn prick when he pleased.

For a few moments he remained silent, watching you wrap the trays of cinnamon rolls in plastic before you transferred them to the fridge to prove overnight; he saw how meticulously you cleaned the kitchen before pouring a glass of white wine for yourself and perching yourself on the counter next to him.

“Not driving home?” he asked, concerned about how tired you looked, surely you were doing this for years and he had never seen you this exhausted. Maybe it was something other than your regular baking duties that were troubling you today.

“Car’s with the mechanic today, she’s giving me nothing but grief these days.” you sighed, rolling your shoulders to relieve some tension from your aching muscles. Some family drama aside, it had been a long, busy but fulfilling day.

“So, what ails you, dear child?” you joked, sipping on your wine. Tony would usually beg you to make him a cup of joe by now but tonight, he remained silent.

“Forget about me. Tell me about your day, Y/N.”

Tony rarely asked about this. His visits consisted of rants about technical jargon which you did not pretend to understand, they ended with him bragging about an invention or a girl he scored with the night before. You were more of a listener than a talker anyway, had been all your life, so it was like a natural fit. So this certainly came as a surprise to you.

“What?”

“I’m serious. I always yap about my day and you always listen. You seem upset about something and I want to know if you’re willing to share. You need a listener too.” he smiled one of those rare Tony Stark smiles that were reserved for special people in his life. It warmed your heart.

He waited patiently as you took another generous sip from your drink, his brown eyes boring into yours, his body angled towards you, letting you know you had his full attention.

“Well, my baby brother is thinking about quitting college. He says he wants to focus on his start-up. You know the one I told you about.”

He nodded, immediately recalling the day you had mentioned about your younger sibling being inclined towards artificial intelligence and expressing the desire to venture into it professionally one day.

“I don’t want him to be yet another disappointment to my parents, Tony. One sibling has had enough trauma to last a lifetime. I don’t want him to go through what I did.” you sighed, closing your eyes to make the stray tears that gathered disappear.

Sure your parents gave you the upbringing you deserved, but they would never miss a chance to show their disappointment in you after you had quit your well-paying job to open up your quaint little cafe. It had been a lifelong dream of yours that didn’t seem to fit in their ideal world. You were used to ignoring the little jabs and remarks but your brother was still young, and you wanted to protect him.

“Look, I know you still think of him as your baby brother, but he’s old enough to make his own decisions now, Y/N. And you never know, he might be really good, good enough for the heir of Stark Industries to want to meet him to discuss ideas.”

He knew you would never take advantage of the fact that you guys were close and he was willing to do whatever it took to make you feel better.

A lesser known fact was that Tony Stark was quite smitten by you. His best friend knew it, Happy knew it, probably the only person who didn’t know was you.

“Tony, it’s not necessary. You’re being too kind, I just–”

“Nuh-uh. It’s already decided. He will be okay, Y/N. Stop taking his responsibilities upon your delicate little shoulders.” Tony jumped down and placed his hands on your shoulders to give you a little massage. His fingers felt like heaven, making you melt against his touch instantly, you had to stop yourself from letting out a moan that threatened to escape.

“That feels amazing. Do you moonlight as a masseur?” you yawned sleepily, placing the glass away.

“Perhaps. The rest of my services are paid though. Come on.” Tony held out his hand for you and made you stand up.

“Come where? Where are we going?” you frowned, eyelids already growing heavy, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up.

“I’m going to walk you home. Have you eaten today?”

You hadn’t. The day had been busy enough and you wanted to finish the batch of cinnamon rolls for tomorrow, that had eventually led you to forget about dinner.

Meekly you shook your head, making him let out a dramatic sigh.

“What would you do without me, Y/N Y/L/N!”

If anything, Tony Stark would never fail to make you smile. He had a tendency to brighten up a dull day. You found yourself thinking just how much you’d miss him if he wasn’t in your life; not that you’d gather the courage to answer out loud.

He had looped your arm in his as you walked the ever busy streets of New York, grabbing a pizza on your way. This was a new side to him you were shown, one you were sure didn’t come out often.

As you unlocked your front door, you turned to the man beside you who stood fidgeting with the cardboard pizza box.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Instead of answering, Tony leaned closer and wrapped his hand over yours on the door knob, his breath fanning your hair slightly causing your heart to flutter hopelessly. Ever so gently he twisted the knob and opened the door for you, his body heat still radiating near you, making you want to lean against that taut chest. If only you could…

He stepped in after you, observing your space with keen interest. Years of hardwork and savings had bought you this modestly sized apartment, right in the heart of New York. The space was a little cluttered but it had a homey vibe to it which matched you.

Placing the pizza box on the kitchen counter, you discarded your bag and asked the snarky superhero who was currently skimming over family photographs if he wanted a drink.

“You didn’t answer my question, Tony.” You said, handing him a glass of wine. This time he turned to face you, a small smile played on his lips as he took in your appearance. Hair messy from a long day of work, minimal make-up and the light in your eyes that drew him in from day one; to him, you were perfect.

“I’m only doing it because you are cute.”

He stated matter-of-factly, reaching for your free hand and letting his fingers entwine with yours. A small gesture that awakened a few thousand butterflies in your tummy.

“You’ve offered to help my brother, you bought me dinner, walked me home, and you didn’t try to sneak a cup of coffee today. All that because I’m cute huh?”

You teased, feeling just a little bolder as you took a step closer to him. It was now or never, you thought.

“Ask me what I’ve always wondered about.” He asked softly, still toying with your fingers which he’d now brought up to his chest. Something in your heart whispered he felt the same way.

“What have you always wondered about, Tony?” Your eyes dropped to his pillowy lips, unable to resist yourself from getting closer until you were only inches apart.

“I wonder why you won’t bake some blueberry muffins for me?”

It took a couple of seconds for you to process and snap out of it, when you did, Tony’s eyes were dancing with mirth. You shoved him away with a groan only for him to grab hold of your arms and pull you close.

“I’ve always wondered how I’ve grown so close to someone I only met a few months ago, I’ve always wondered how someone as beautiful and amazing as you would ever entertain a selfish prick like me..”

You were about to open your mouth to speak but were stopped when Tony placed a finger on your lips.

“I’ve also wondered what it’d be like to kiss you…” his soft murmur traveled down your spine in a delicious manner, making your breathing hitch as his doe eyes landed on your parted lips.

Taking initiative, you gently pressed your lips to his in a kiss that assured you your life wouldn’t be the same again. It was surprisingly tender, contrary to his boisterous persona, soft lips molded into yours in a perfect union making the surroundings disappear.

You smiled into the kiss when Tony let out a small whine, almost as if battling in his head whether to break the kiss or take things forward. You felt his grip on your hands move to your waist, holding you flush against his chest before he reluctantly broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, grinning.

“And?” You kept your voice soft, afraid to break the bubble you were in.

“I think I found my perfect blend.”

[eruden-writes]

Choosing the Bear - Part 1 (Shifter x Human)

Inspired by the Man or Bear in the Woods question/meme.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (coming soon?)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

If you found yourself at night in a forest – somewhere that made bumfuck nowhere look like New York City – would you choose to be alone with a man or a bear?

Bambi Rose Barker was stuck in the middle of both answers. Literally.

She stood stock still, eyes wide, chest heaving and aching for air while her stomach lurched. Moments earlier – or maybe half an hour ago, she couldn’t tell – she had managed to escape her kidnapper’s cabin with the man hot at her heels. It had been a mad dash through the night, dressed in only a tank top and a pair of daisy duke shorts and choking down pain as her bare feet slammed over rocks, branches, and uneven terrain.

Luckily, a full moon cast light over the world, so Bambi wasn’t exactly stumbling without sight. Fumbling through the forest without shoes was still a bitch on the soles, but she simply gritted her teeth and continued forth.

When she caught sight of the bear a few yards ahead, her racing feet and thoughts froze. She couldn’t really be seeing a bear, right? Under the moonlight and swirling starlight, she squinted. But it was hard to deny that the bright white creature was anything but a bear.

Her adrenaline shifted from fleeing her pursuer as she slowed to calculating whether ursine or man was a larger threat.

Behind her, the man howled as he tromped through the mountainside forest, “Bambi, get back here! I just wanna talk things out!”

It wasn’t the first time she’d had a man chasing her with a shotgun. Growing up in the country, with little to do except get in trouble, Bambi and a group of friends often found themselves running off into the dark, being threatened by an angry elder with a shot gun.

The man tailing at her heels wasn’t crochety Mrs. Jenkins, who was more bark than actual bullet.

No, she was well-acquainted with Duke Walker. They’d grown up in the same town and known each other forever.

There was one key difference between Duke and the other men of Hartwell: his family owned the little town. By and large, he was better off than most people in Barfield and he got away with a whole helluva lot more than the average folk.

Which included stalking, as Bambi had learned over the last two years of their separation. He was about to add kidnapping and possibly murder to the list, as well.

But Duke was a human. A five-foot-eleven-inch human that might have a chance to be reasoned with.

Whereas the bear…

Well to start with, it looked about as tall as the Wicked Warrior from the Monster Truck Derby her pa used to take her to when she was a kid. Which had to be at least ten feet tall, though maybe kid Bambi was coloring her memories. It didn’t help that the bear looked to weigh just about as much as the Wicked Warrior to boot.

To end with, judging from the size and coloration, it looked like a polar bear. As in one of the few creatures that actually saw humans as a viable snack.

While Bambi hadn’t been an ace at high school geography, she was pretty damn sure the Appalachian Mountains were too far south for a polar bear.

Confusion warred with uncertainty, keeping her frozen in place as the bear lowered onto all four paws. A faint part of Bambi’s mind realized it had been rooting around in a tree and, a little hysterically, she wondered if polar bears ate honey.

Just as the bear lumbered closer to Bambi, Duke crashed through the brush behind her. The flaps of his flannel button-up, unbuttoned, flared behind him as his white tank top nearly glowed in the moonlight. “Christ, woman! I told you I just wanted ta’ talk and you gotta go and make a scene—“

Jolting, Bambi spun toward Duke. It would’ve been a lie if she didn’t take some satisfaction in watching awareness dawn on his as he finally saw the bear. He paled to a shade almost as white as the creature, gripping his gun tighter. She watched the knot in his throat bob, fear freezing him momentarily in place.

For some reason, seeing Duke like that sparked something inside Bambi. Balling her fists, she nodded toward the gun in his hands. “If you just wanna talk, Duke, why do you got a gun with you?”

Her words made Duke snap his attention back to her, eyes wide with horror and anger. “Now’s not the time for all that! Do you not see the hulking white beast behind you!?”

“I do, but it ain’t threatening me with a damn gun and it hasn’t been the one stalkin’ me for years and kidnapping me,” she spat back, though she very pointedly shifted so her back wasn’t to the bear or the man.

A chuff from the bear startled her attention back to it, her heart tripping in her chest. She glanced toward it, risking eye contact that could very well end her life. The bear’s head slightly tilted toward her, ears giving a twitch, but it didn’t growl or lift a lip in a snarl. Even without the signs of imminent danger, Bambi’s heart thrummed in her chest.

Albino, she thought. The white bear couldn’t be a polar bear, it had to be albino! But didn’t albino animals have red eyes? And no pigmentation in the rest of their body? She swallowed as her eyes dropped from the creature’s dark eyes to its black nose.

The cock of Duke’s rifle snagged Bambi’s attention back toward him. Finally, a growl burbled up from the bear and she heard it shift, could feel it rising up on its hind feet. Apprehension prickled over her body, finding Duke lining up a shot through the scope, lip curling as he snarled, “You need to back away from that damn thing! Don’t you got any sense?!”

A sudden surge of protectiveness overcame Bambi as she took a step closer to the armed man. “Duke Walker, put down the damned rifle! It wasn’t doing a thing before you started threatening it.”

“Don’t you Duke Walker me! It’s a—“

Before Duke could finish his retort, the huge bear crested the distance faster than Bambi would have guessed. Stunned, she couldn’t even shriek as the bear descended on Duke, huge paw arcing down to swipe at the rifle. She only heard the man give a startled cry before a loud, piercing gunshot rang out. With a clatter, the rifle went flying and Duke stumbled back, bloody gouge marks trickling down his arm and chest. Another growl warbled from the bear as it stood up straighter.

As Duke turned tail and sprinted back the way he came, the bear didn’t pursue. It merely stood, as if watching the man disappear into the woods.

And suddenly, Bambi realized she was alone with the hulking beast. As quick and quiet as she could, she began sidling away from the creature, mentally trying to determine which direction she should run to avoid Duke. However, the bear shifted toward her and she realized, with a start, that red blossomed along its fur.

Duke had shot it.

With a  groan, the bear lowered down to all four, its torso seemingly heaving.

Sense and compassion held Bambi locked in place, part of her wanting to check on the creature while the logical side of her told her to bolt. Besides the fact it could be a polar bear – there’s no fucking way it’s actually a polar bear, Bambi’s logical side snarked – it was injured, meaning it had both a hankering for human and was likely scared while in pain.

Before Bambi could decide what to do, a smaller figure crashed through the tangle of forest. “Dad! Dad! What’s goin’ on? Did you hear that gunshot?”

The little figure paused, eyes widening and voice softening with worry, “What happened to you?”

With a jolt, Bambi realized she recognized the voice. Squinting, she took a step closer. “Mercy? Mercy Clements?”

Startled, the girl turned toward Bambi as she hovered near the bear. The light of the moon caught her wide hazel eyes, casting them with a silver sheen. Like a fish, her mouth opened and closed, obviously trying to come up with something to say.

Wait, she’d said ‘dad’ thought Bambi. And then she had ran toward the bear, asking the creature what happened. Bambi’s gaze flicked from the bear to the girl and back to the bear, a perplexing suspicion taking root. There was no way to confuse a behemoth like that for a human, even in the dark.

“Zeke?” Bambi narrowed her eyes, focusing on the bear. There was no way the bear was Zeke Clements. There was no way the bear was anything other than a bear!

Something in the bear’s demeanor flinched – or so Bambi thought – and her denial wavered.

[tmntxthings]

Hi!!! Just wanted to say again I absolutely love your writing!!! You're amazing!!! If it's ok could I please request 2012 Leo x reader (sorry I'm not sure if you do 2012 Leo since he's not on your masterlist, if not then please ignore!)...where the reader has to stay late for classes but ends up sick or injured on the way home and Leo noticed his SO while on patrol and uses the healing hands technique on them? Sorry I hope that's alright to ask! I sort of watched season 3 episode 18 "The deadly venom" again and I just find it so cool that Leo can do it!!!! I hope you're having a lovely day!!!

Healing Hands

author’s notes: soooo i didn’t wanna keep you waiting, I haven’t watched 2k12 in forever, I’m rewatching rn, currently on season 2 so I looked up some utube videos for reference of the healing hands, i hope you enjoyyyy~

warnings: blood, violence, angst, comfort ending

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You packed up your things, ready to finally be done with today. You were still at school, having had practice for the soccer team and then going straight back to the classroom where they offered makeups since you had missed a test or two. By the time you were done with everything, bag packed and walking out of the double doors, the city around you had turned dark.

You shivered as you walked down the steps to the sidewalk, you hated New York at night. This wasn’t time square where everything was lit up by billboards. No the only thing illuminating the street was the street lights and they had long spaces where you’d have to make due without light. To put it simply, you were scared. You had heard stories as of late about a new gang rising up and taking over the streets when nightfall came around.

So you were speed walking home, trying to calm yourself down as you put in your earbuds to listen to some music. Had you known it was a bad idea to do more than just one makeup test you would’ve left it for tomorrow but, you were the type of person who wanted to just get things done as soon as possible. You tried thinking of other thoughts, and immediately green and blue came to mind. You smiled glancing up at the rooftops wondering if they were on patrol yet.

You sighed, not seeing anything but shadows as you did a little circle, just in case, looking at all the rooftops in your vicinity. And then your heart jumped as you noticed four figures slinking in the dark on one particular building. You were just about to call out to them, thinking it was the turtles but they jumped down into an alleyway. So you made your way over there, smiling brightly wondering if Leo would be surprised, when you rounded the corner, you stopped in your tracks.

Four figures dressed in black, snickering to themselves about being bored with no action and no turtles around. You were retracing your steps trying to be as quiet as possible but it didn’t matter, “Hey!” one of them noticed you and you froze. “Looking for trouble?” another one asked as they all turned and started to approach you. “No no I was just leaving,” you said and you bolted for it. Back out to the sidewalk you were now looking for people. But as your head whipped this way and that, all the while running as fast as you could, your heart sank. No one was around.

A hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled so hard that you went careening to the ground. Your earbuds clattering to the ground as well. “Where do you think your going??” You were surrounded instantly, four black masks looking down at you. Your elbows had taken the brunt of the fall trying to stop yourself but only making it worse for yourself as you were now scraped up and in pain. “Kinda pretty..” one of them crouched down, hand reaching out to touch your face and you batted the hand away. Glaring, “leave me alone.” you said trying to keep a steady voice.

You had to get your phone, call Leo somehow, before things got out of hand. You tried sitting up but you were met with hands pushing you back down, “who said you could get up??” one of them bellowed and you tried to sit up again out of spite and you were met with a kick to the ribs. You curled in on yourself gasping and groaning as it soon became hard to breath. “Great going, look whatcha did!” One of them muttered as they all just watched you wither in pain. “Move again and you’ll get more than a kick,” said the one who had hurt you, and you watched as he pulled out a knife.

“For fucks sake, this psycho!”

“Shut up!”

“If you go stabbing the toy no one will get to play with it!”

“Stabbing is playing.”

An argument soon was in way and you tried to inconspicuously get your phone from your back pocket. Once it was in your hand you felt hope trickle back into your mind, all you had to do now was call Leo or maybe shoot a text? “Calling up a hero?” your hand froze as someone spoke softly beside you, the argument still going on and actually increasing to the two pushing each other but you hadn’t realized they weren’t all occupied. You looked up to see one masked face peering down at your phone screen. “No one’s gonna be able to save you from us, you ran into the wrong crowd sweetheart,”

You clicked Leo’s contact before the guy could stop you, it may have rang twice before the struggle was over and he hung up the phone. Hopefully that would be enough for Leo to realize something was terribly wrong…

。・゜・( pov change: leo )・゜・。

Leo had already been out on patrol when he felt his t-phone buzz. He pulled it out and had been about to answer your call, smiling once he noticed it was you, but it ended before he could answer. He called back, still jumping from building to building, but when you didn’t answer and he got sent to your voicemail he stopped. You had just called him.. why weren’t you answering?

Leo ran through some possibilities. You got another call and were busy at the moment, your phone died… after those two very rational and likely answers he started to worry. What if you were in trouble? It was all he needed to head to your place. Wait no, you had told him you would call after you finished with school, he’d check the route from your school and head to your place after. If anything had happened the chances were more likely on the route home. Leo gritted his teeth as he took off, hoping he was wrong, hoping he was just worrying needlessly.

It didn’t take him long to find you. The four foot hadn’t dragged you off to an alleyway, and Leo wasted no time unsheathing his swords and fighting until they were rendered unconscious. His blood boiled when he saw that you were unconscious as well. He dropped to his knees at your side, as he hurriedly picked you up. Pushing to his feet, he needed to get you out of here, assess your wounds elsewhere. His thoughts were going a mile a minute and he wondered if he should call Donnie.

Once he had put some distance between him and the foot clan soldiers he decided he couldn’t wait any longer. You were still knocked out or that’s what he guessed and when he noticed blood on his hands he was looking all over you. “Y/n, oh god no,” he placed you down, not wasting anymore time as he started the healing hands ritual that Master Splinter had taught him. You were bleeding from one of your legs and he focused his hands there. Holding back tears and trying to concentrate on the mantra, he couldn’t mess this up, for your sake.

When he finished he was looking down at you holding his breath. Your eyelids fluttered opened, looking around and meeting his eyes, “Leo,” you smiled weakly. And he couldn’t stop himself, in tears now, as he pulled you close, hugging you tightly, one hand around your shoulders as the other petted your hair. “Y/n! Are you okay? Are you still in pain? You were bleeding and I-“ he choked up burying his face in your neck. You hugged him back saying, “I’m okay, it’s alright now, thanks to you,” your mind was a little befuddled but you could remember how much trouble you had been in.

When Leo had calmed down, tears drying up, even though you had said you were fine, he looked down at where the blood had stained your pants. “One of them stabbed me in the calf,” you murmured, feeling through the slice on your jeans, your fingers came back clean, no blood. “I used a ninja technique to heal you,” Leo sniffed and you nodded, figuring that would be the explanation. You wondered if you would have a scar or if you were completely healed. You’d have to check when you got home. “Do you wanna come back with me to the lair?” Leo was speaking softly but he had this determined look in his eyes.

“I would but it’s a school night…” you murmured, reaching out for his hand. He squeezed your hand, “Then, can I come over?” Leo asked, not wanting to leave you just yet. He couldn’t! He’d worry to death all the way back to the lair until he got to see you again. You gave him a small smile, “you wouldn’t mind? cause I’d really like that,” you admitted, you felt like you were in a state of shock. Your fear and going unconscious then being woken up and in Leo’s arms, it all happened so fast and you just knew you were going to have a breakdown soon. You didn’t want to be alone, but more accurately you wanted Leo to be there.

“Of course, c’mon let’s get you home, want me to carry you?” And before you could answer you were in his arms again. He carried you bridal style just like before, “thank you Leo,” you said and he nodded, getting you safely to your apartment. Letting you walk through the front while he would wait at your window. He watched you carefully as you disappeared through the doors, blowing out a breath as he climbed up the fire escape to your window and waited. He took out his t-phone and updated his brothers on where he would be for the night, not wanting anyone to come track him down.

You rushed around your room after taking a quick shower, changing, brushing your teeth, trying to do everything quickly before pushing back the curtains and finding your favorite turtle waiting. “Sorry for the wait,” you said sheepishly as he ducked his head and entered into your bedroom. “It’s cool, are you ready for bed?” He said standing by the window. You nodded and it got quiet. The two of you had been dating for a couple of weeks. Hugging and a few chaste kisses were the farthest the two of you had gone. Sleeping with one another, that wasn’t something Leo was even thinking about, he’d just wanted to be here for you, maybe take a nap on the floor, leaned up against the wall. But ultimately he was here to ensure your safety and give himself peace of mind. But as you stood there with him instead of going lay down, Leo realized you might need more than just that.

“Y/n?” He said and you looked up from the floor. Your thoughts had went back to them pushing you to the ground. Reliving it all in your mind. You bit down on your lower lip, “I’m here, no one is going to hurt you,” he promised, one hand going to cup your cheek. You closed your eyes at the feeling and took some deep breaths. “D-do you think you can sleep next to me? Just for tonight?” You said opening your eyes and blinking quickly to get rid of the tears. He nodded, offering a sad smile, he hated that this had happened. Hated he hadn’t been able to stop it before it happened.

As the two of you got comfortable in your bed, you snuggled close to him, sighing and finally started to relax. “Leo, thank you for saving me,” you whispered quietly as you started to fall asleep. He kissed to top of your head, “always,” he said and felt your breathing deepen as you slipped into sleep. He vowed to make this city safer for you. He’d do everything in his power. Because you were worth fighting for, and he closed his eyes.

[bitofanattitudeproblemherondale]

‘Home is where the heart is’, was the first thought that came to her mind as Tessa woke up to a new day. The wait was finally over, Will was coming home tonight. The past three months had been hell. Will had to go to the States, her previous home as a representative of Enclave to procure and train shadowhunters there. She couldn’t accompany him because no one else would run the institute in his absence. Three months of communicating through correspondence that arrived days later had been infuriating but they both knew they had to do this, the fact that they got through it just made their bond only stronger. It is true that you get so used to having someone around that you end up taking them for granted, unintentionally.

She got out of bed to wash and change into a blue dress that matched the color of his eyes, her favorite shade of blue. Will had the sort of eyes one could get lost in. A blue so deep, she want to jump into them without a care in the world because she knew he would always catch her. Just then, the curtains rustled to give her a perfect view of the Thames from where she was standing, it wasn’t too cold for October, the sky was clear and the air was crisp. It was as if the city knew, its savior was coming back.

So lost in thought, Tessa couldn’t help but reflect on the last couple of months, between the institute duties and staying up late writing to Will, she had lost some pounds. There were dark circles under her gray eyes because of all the sleepless nights spent thinking about what he must be doing on the other side of the world. Worry etched into her veins, she cannot count the number of times she woke up in the middle of the night restless and calling out to him, thinking of what monster he was slaying. They had been through so much together but danger ran through every part of a shadowhunter’s life. They gamble with death every day, and most of the time, gambling is pure luck.

The striking of the clock to noon startles Tessa, his ship is just about to arrive, she rushes to grab her coat and calls for Stephen to drive her to the shipping docks in the institute carriage. No matter how much time she spends in London, the city never fails to fascinate her, New York might be the city that never sleeps but London is truly the city of wonder and magic. The institute doors open with a creak to let them into the street giving Tessa just enough time to read “Pulvus et umbra sumus” engraved on them. We are dust and Shadows. It had just become her habit to look at these words every time she entered or left the institute because they always took her back to the night when she had just first arrived at the institute and was wandering the dark halls because she couldn’t sleep knowing that Nate was in danger. These words from a blue-eyed boy with rued black hair that kept falling onto his forehead had comforted her and had unlocked feelings in her that she never knew she had the ability to feel.

They arrive at the docks at quarter past four, just as the captain docks the last ship of the day. The final bell rings and people start to line up to get o the ship. Tessa stands there waiting, shaken to her very bottom with nerves, eager to see him, thinking of all the things she wants to tell him. She stands on her tiptoe looking for messy black hair and a long coat, and just then she spots him, he is climbing down the stairs, looking as handsome as ever, in a blue knitted sweater and black coat, his blue eyes remind her of hope and the band on his finger that reads ‘the last dream of my soul’ is a promise of forever. He is walking towards her now with a smile on his face that could light up even the darkest corners of the city. In a flash, he is next to her and Tessa realizes there are tears pouring down her face without even her wanting to cry.

“Of all the emotions I thought of, sadness was definitely not the one I thought you would feel when you saw me after 3 months, Tess,” he says jokingly.

“There’s something called Tears of happiness, you would know if you read the right books.” Tessa retorts back.

There’s not even a hint of awkwardness between them after being apart for so long. They had always been like that, even the letters to each other over the months had been full of their usual banter.

“Well, I am just thinking about all the emotions I am going to make you feel tonight, my love.”

Will says and kisses her and the world fades away, it is a sort of kiss that is full of meaning, it is a sort of kiss that feels like damnation and the start of a new day all at once. When they pull apart, Tessa’s heart is finally at peace after three months.

Sometimes a little distance is a good thing because you know at the end of it, you are going to be home.

[theartistknownaslymond]

Whumptober 2022 day 24

Blood Covered Hands | Catatonic | “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

In the band AU Prequel the equivalent of the galleys is a stint being owned by the mob in New York (look up Moishe Levy and Roulette Records).

CW: drugs references, police presence and implied violence, coming down while realising you’ve been injured and arrested, broken glass, fear of mob violence. Being mistakenly identified as English (sorry Francis, that soft Edinburgh accent isn’t immediately recognisable to New Yorkers).

---

When Francis came round, he was on his back in the middle of the floor. So far, so normal; at least for nights out with Seamus Finlay and the Three Cheers crowd. He groaned and wondered what time of day it was, where last night's party had ended up, and how come the music had been switched off.

Wherever there was a party worth going to there was a DJ worth listening to, and someone would always find the energy to keep a turntable going through the night and into the following day. How else could such parties be maintained over twenty-four, forty-eight or more hours?

In fact, Francis hadn't really thought he was able to sleep without music anymore.

He blinked his eyes in surprise at the bright lights on the ceiling and tried to move a hand to rub at his face.

A startled yell fell from his mouth instead when he noticed that his hands were cuffed together in front of his chest and he finally realised the state they were in.

Francis cried out again, the aftermath of the previous night's drugs pouring white hot fuel on his horror. His hands were a bloodied mess, and now that he could see them, all the feeling of it came flooding into his senses, too.

There were delicate, curving shards of glass embedded in his palms and fingers - any movement of the muscles, any spasm or twitch of his digits could be felt deep inside the flesh. He imagined some were even deep enough to scrape bone or tendon, filleting him, silicone grinding on carbon, working deeper the longer he stared at them.

Francis' screams drew attention, and a heavy boot kicked him in his bare arm.

The boy stared up in horror at a uniformed cop, swallowed down the remnants of what was turning into a very bad trip indeed, and asked, hoarsely, what was happening.

The cop just snorted, lay the toe of his boot warningly on Francis' arm, and drawled: "Shut up..."

Francis' hands were trembling. The chain on the handcuffs chattered to itself as he shook, sinking beneath a wave of cold shock. There was dried blood on his palms and wrists and chest already,  so this must have happened a little time ago. But now fresh gore oozed, hot and bright, from the deeper wounds, and Francis choked back a sob.

He needed those hands. He needed them to work, to live - he needed the dexterity of the tendons and the sensitivity of the fingers. If he couldn't play - guitar, piano, anything - then what was he?

Dead, his soul answered instantly, grimly.

Then a more prosaic part of him reasoned that, first of all, he would be useless if he couldn't play. And if he was useless, then he'd be dead, because a useless man was a dead man where the people who owned him were concerned.

His heart was in a state of panic now, a wild horse running itself into the dust. He turned his head and craned his body to look around the room, and as he did so he felt the sting of pain beneath him, too.

He was shirtless - it was often the way at parties organised by Seamus. They were always sweaty, raucous affairs held in over-crowded spaces. Heated up by music and substances, bodies and the beat, Francis didn't adhere to a dress code unless he was being paraded out with the bosses - and now he surmised that the rest of the drinking vessel(s?) that were lancing into his hands lay scattered on the floor beneath the bare skin of his back.

He caught his lower lip in his teeth, trying to steady the all-consuming need to get away from the glass that was prickling, itching, clawing its way deeper into him. He glanced around again, doing his best not to move his body so much this time.

What he saw was simply the level of gleeful, wilful destruction that could only have followed from a raid. They were in a bare room with a high ceiling and the floorboards twinkled with broken glass, puddles of spilled drinks and bodily fluids. The DJ deck had even been overturned - plastic knobs and shattered pieces of vinyl told of the NYPD's disregard for culture.

Nothing serious had been happening there though, not by Francis' recently expanded standards: merely consenting adults taking recreational substances and dancing together. Christ, there were some who'd view the bootleg records more seriously than the coke in his system.

But it was a venue the Irish had only recently acquired - and it lay provocatively close to territory associated with an Italian family they hadn't made any previous deals with. Therefore, Francis wondered whether someone had taken objection and grassed on them, in the process exaggerating the crimes that had been occurring there.

It wouldn't be ethical, as some in the mob would see it, but Francis didn't suppose there had been much in the way of ethics from either side since Spillane's death a few years ago.

Around the room, there were a few other bodies lying cuffed on the floor, some on their bellies, some on their backs, some sprawled limply where they'd fallen. Francis' stomach dropped to street level faster than a broken elevator before he convinced himself that no one here had been shot. Not this time.

Only one other person seemed to be conscious, and Francis noticed Jonathan Crouch pulling furious, frantic expressions at him from over by the ruined mix deck.

A set-up! He was mouthing, as Francis had expected.

Francis forgot himself and twitched a shoulder in a half shrug and then had to close his eyes and grimace until the pain in his back was manageable again.

When he looked to Crouch again, it was something more like they stashed the goods that he was mouthing now, but Francis had no idea what this was supposed to mean. Only that, perhaps, there had been more going on at this venue than he'd realised, and the raid had been more urgent than a bunch of smashed kids would have warranted.

"Wanna share with the rest of the class?" one of the cops had noticed Crouch's performance and sauntered over to him.

Crouch's lips zipped tight and he glared up at the officer.

"No? Maybe your buddy wants to tell us what you said?"

Francis also stilled and watched the policeman's heavy boots advance over the ruined floor, crunching glass and ice and vinyl beneath their soles. He looked up at the cop with an expression more honest than he'd have liked - his face was tight with pain and his eyes were dry and over-responsive to light, following on from all he'd taken beforehand.

"I can't lip read," he told the man, knowing that he should have been more afraid of the pain this person could cause him than he already was of the damage done to his hands.

The cop shook his head. "They never can, huh?" he addressed a colleague.

"What's a Limey doing in the Irish mob, anyway?" Another came to peer at him and Francis cringed against the sharp bed he lay on.

"Not...a Limey..." he grunted. "Francis Crawford. You might know me as Lymond. Check your missing persons register."

"Want me to shake your hand, Francis Limey Crawford?" the second cop asked him.

"You ain't been missing for a while. Can't be missing and publicly working with the mob, not if you're still breathing."

"You don't understand. My agent...call Lennox Records..." he knew he shouldn't be talking. It would only be held against him, wasn't that right? But, cops or not, he saw a way out of the slavery he'd endured in the name of making money for the Ryan brothers. If he could just still play - if his hands came through this. If Margaret would take him back. At the thought of her, his hands shook again, his wrists held together and his palms and fingers furled open like a budding red peony, an involuntary gesture of supplication above his heart.

"Please..." he added, feeling weakness and shock grasp at him, chilling and numbing his face, making it hard to talk.

"You'll get your phonecall," one of the cops said in a bored tone. "Not till after ER though."

ER? So they were going to take him to the hospital after all. Francis let his eyes fall closed and a sigh escape his lips. He never thought he'd be relieved by the prospect of returning to a life with Margaret Douglas, but many things had conspired to change his perspective on the world over the last, turbulent year.

[peterthepark]

begin again (5)

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

tags: tooth rotting fluff, some angst, mentions of wounds and vague depiction of panic attacks, one bed trope, weddings and yk all that

summary: peter deals with the aftermath of your family’s revelation, and swears to protect you. but he finds himself becoming vulnerable for you every second.

note: lol this chapter was cute…. enjoy this early release! comment or send an ask for the taglist ;)

missing out? ➤ [my masterlist] - [series masterpost]

Peter couldn’t breathe. His throat felt tight and his lips could barely move, almost as if he had webbed his own mouth shut. The bathroom lights were too bright and the humming of the bulbs were driving him insane. He picked up on every tiny sound — the leaky faucet in the kitchen, the scraping of silverware against porcelain, the groaning of pipes inside the wall. He could hear the rushing of blood inside him, and it harmonized with the ringing in his ears.

The room felt eerily cold.

Wilson Grant Fisk. New York’s token crime lord. Leader of organized crime. Great enemy of the syndicate group known as the Maggia. Powerful. Wealthy. Deadly. Four-hundred and fifty pounds of pure brute and muscle.

And a fucking piece of shit.

To the public eye, the heavyset man was simply nothing but a powerful businessman and wealthy philanthropist. He’d done his noble part in donating to charity, funding activists and establishing foundations around New York.

But to Peter, the man was nothing but rot.

Peter shuddered audibly as he looked at himself in the mirror. His pupils were dark and his lips appeared chapped, as if he had gone through hell in the past ten minutes he’d spent hiding in the bathroom (and he was going through hell). His skin felt itchy and the palms of his hands grew cramped as he gripped tightly at the sink counter. The feeling reminded him of the rainy nights he’d spent alone at Aunt May’s, scrubbing at the blood on his skin as he sat by the edge of the tub. It reminded him that the world was still just as cruel and dark as he remembered it to be and that wherever he went, ruin inevitably followed him no matter how happy he was.

No matter rain or shine, the day or occasion, he was always going to be Spider-Man somehow.

Peter had his fair share of encounters with Fisk’s coalition. It never led to good things, and caused more altercations with their rival gang Maggia as well. Robberies, bank heists, kidnappings — Peter had dealt with all of their bullshit and he had gotten himself into trouble every single time. He’d come home to the apartment with gashes on his side, highlighting the outline of his ribs; you’d hear the brunt end of it, unaware that the hissing and groaning on the other side of the wall was the product of Peter’s poor stitchwork.

A knock on the door caused him to tense up. He pushed himself off the sink counter, approaching the door with a defensive stance. He leaned his cheek against the thick wood, pressing his ear to it.

Oh. Your heartbeat. He’d recognize it from anywhere.

“Pete?”

His shoulders relaxed. He didn’t hesitate to turn the knob and open it. You stood worried, wringing your hands together against your dress; Peter could see the anxiety in the tangles of your hair, in which you had been running your fingers through nervously as you looked for him. In the middle of dinner, Peter had run off as a stuttering mess without an explanation. You chased after him in a flurry of concern, wondering if you had done something wrong or if this was too much for him. He exhaled once your eyes met his. “Are you okay? You look awful.”

You have a criminal living right under your nose.

He forced himself out of his trance, scoffing at the remark. “Wow, thanks.”

“I’m just saying how it is.”

“Y/N, I’m good,” You narrowed your eyes, wondering why his tone was suddenly sharp. He picked up on it, then cleared his throat to speak with a softer voice. “Just not a big fan of — of that kind of food. Nothing beats the classic microwave and tea on an empty stomach, which I’m sure you know a lot about. Coffee addict.”

You saw right through his lie. You didn’t laugh at the jab.

“Pete, are you sure you’re okay?”

He nodded through gritted teeth. “I’ve never been better, Y/N.”

Footsteps approached, and Peter felt himself tensing up again — just when he had relaxed at the sight of you, Fisk stood in the hallway.

The looming image of his suit and gold cane left a hitch in Peter’s breath. His nails dug into his hands, and he bit down harshly on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

“You two alright?”

“Just peachy.” Peter huffed with a firm nod of his head, licking his lips. You were taken aback when the boy grabbed your arm abruptly, pulling you to stand behind him. He didn’t let go of you, but his grip tightened around your skin with every word he said. “You know what, we were actually gonna head to bed early.” He glanced at you, and you took it as a sign to follow along.

“Yeah, I…” You hesitated. “We’re pretty tired from the drive. I think we’ll call it a night, Wilson.” You shrugged with one shoulder, putting on your best smile as Peter started to lead you out the hall. “Thanks for dinner.”

Peter’s steps were quick, tugging you behind him as you whispered questions under your breath and tried to match his pace.

“It was great meeting you, Peter.” Fisk spoke slowly.

His laugh was bitter as he looked over his shoulder with a piercing scowl. “You too, Mister Fisk.”

Peter didn’t speak until you reached the bedroom. The tension was unbearable. You could tell your neighbor was trying to mask his anxiety; it was too noticeable from the way his hands trembled and his jaw flexed under the shadows of the yellow-hued room. You shut the bedroom door behind you as he sat on the edge of the queen bed, hunching over as he stared vacantly at the floor. You didn’t move from your place, surveying him from afar as questions of your own started to arise. You leaned against the door with your hands behind your back, swaying on your heels.

“What is your issue?” You asked blankly. Part of him was scaring you, but you had a feeling that this was deeper than he was letting on.

He shook his finger at you, almost like he was thinking aloud. “Fisk is your…”

“My aunt’s boyfriend.”

“And – and how long have they…?”

“Like six years. Why?”

“Just curious.”

You huffed loudly, drawing Peter’s gaze towards the sound. His head perked up as you approached and sat beside him. “Then why do you look scared shitless?”

He turned to you with an offended look. “I’m not scared shitless.”

“You sure look like it. Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“Wilson Fisk is… he’s a bad man, Y/N.” You stared at him, chewing on the inside of your mouth.

“Yeah. I know, Peter.”

The nonchalant tone of your admission left him perplexed. “What?”

You laughed at him. You just laughed, and Peter was even more confused because this wasn’t a laughing matter.

“You don’t think I know what a background check is? Peter, Wilson Fisk is all over New York. The Fisk Tower, everything. I’d be stupid not to research him, especially if he’s dating my aunt.” You paused, sucking in a breath. “Can I be honest with you?” A beat. “I joined the Bugle because...” Another beat. “Well, I’m sure you’ve realized that my parents aren’t around anymore…”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “God, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Peter. I’m fine. I figured – I figured my parents were nobodies. They were good people, but at the end of the day they were nobody. My family was always well-off, but when Wilson – when Fisk, made his way into our lives, it just changed. I thought we were in New York that time for a vacation. But, fuck, we were there for a business deal.” You lowered your voice, glancing at the door with apprehension. “And we got mugged, and it couldn’t have been a coincidence. I know Fisk had something to do with their murders, and so I joined the Bugle because I need help. And the only person who can help me with this level of a threat is Spider-Man. It’s a reach, I know — but if he saved me once, he can do it again.”

Peter looked at you with such intensity. Your speech knocked the wind out of him, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from his reflection in your eyes.

Familiarity.

Your eyes. He knew you.

That young girl he saved in Hell’s Kitchen with the bullet that barely grazed her arm. The girl that looked at him with such longing that guilted him because he couldn’t save her parents. The girl that, even when he was beating her parents’ murderers to a pulp, stopped him and touched his fist with such tenderness as if he wasn’t covered in blood.

The girl that looked at him like she could just see through his mask.

You were her. And it made so much sense now.

“Was that too much?”

He stared at you with his lips slightly parted, breathing heavily as you blinked at him. “Y/N, you have no fucking idea what you’re dealing with.” Peter stood from the bed, interlocking his hands behind his head as he paced back and forth in front of you. “Shit. Shit. Shit!”

“Dude! Hello?! You are being so confusing!” You snapped at Peter, jumping up from your position.

“Oh, jeez. If only you knew.”

“Knew what?” Your gestures were wide and dramatic, outstretching your arms into the air as your face contorted into irritation. “What is going on with you?” His breathing quickened, and your face fell as his chest began to heave abnormally fast. “Hey. Hey, Peter.” You stepped in front of him, resting your hands upon his shoulders. The motion caused his distracted gaze to frantically meet yours. You flashed a strained smile at him. “Hey, you. Easy, there. Breathe with me.”

One. Inhale. Two. Exhale.

He was swimming in the color of your dilated eyes. His body calmed itself at your touch, and Peter followed your pace of breaths while you refused to break his stare.

And again, it felt as if you were seeing right through him.

Fuck it.

“Y/N,” Peter began, jaw trembling. His fumbling hands grabbed your arms, and he shook you gently. “Y/N, I’m Spid—“

The bedroom door opened with a creak. Jessica peeked her head through the crack, concerned but amused eyes bouncing between you and Peter.

“Wilson mentioned you guys left? Am I interrupting something?”

You and Peter looked at her with wide eyes. “Yes!”

She quickly closed the door, and Peter felt like every ounce of courage in his body had dissipated. He stood there, breathless. He knew he looked absolutely stupid with his mouth ajar and his nostrils flared. Your head turned to him attentively. “You were saying?”

“It was nothing.” Based on the frown on your lips, you didn’t look convinced. He laughed it off weakly, letting go of you. “It’s nothing. I swear.”

“You’re sure?”

“Definitely.”

You shifted on your feet. “Okay. If you ever need to bring it up again…”

“I don’t. Trust me.”

Yeah, totally. Way to go, Parker.

He was relieved, yet he felt nothing but foolish. Peter was angry at himself for being reckless once again, especially now that Fisk was involved. Had he told you about Spider-Man, it would’ve made you even more vulnerable, and that was the exact situation that Peter wanted to avoid. Hurting you. Finding you one minute too late in your apartment — hurt. His world was full of darkness, and Peter knew he couldn’t lose the light that you’ve brought into his life. He wondered if you had any idea of how much you’ve been a help to him, to his health, to his habits, to the sadness that lingered in the back of his mind; he wondered if you knew how much of a grip you had on him, even though he’d never admit it aloud.

There were many things he couldn’t admit to you.

But he knew that he needed to keep you safe.

Especially when you’d look at him like that, like you understood every part of him, even the parts of him that he couldn’t understand himself. It pained him, because he wanted to tell you things; he wanted to be as open as possible, but he’d rather keep to himself if that meant having you alive in his life.

Now that Peter thought about it, he wasn’t keeping things from you because of Spider-Man, but because he was a coward.

A cowardly fool.

He straightened himself out on the tiny loveseat as the light from the bathroom shut off, muttering curses under his breath as he pretended to scroll mindlessly through his phone. Peter kept his eyes trained on the screen as you walked past in a heavy sweatshirt, casually drying your hair with a towel as you rearranged the clothes in your luggage.

“You’re taking the sofa?” You piped up. He merely nodded in an effort to act occupied, not even bothering to look at you. His lack of interest made you frown, but you quickly covered it up before he could take note. “See anything interesting on there?”

He finally glanced at you. “Hm?”

Peter noticed that your shampoo scent changed, and that he’d never seen you in that sweatshirt. It was unfamiliar, yet he liked it on you.

He liked a lot of things about you.

“Do you do that often? The spacing out thing?”

“It’s called thinking, Y/N.” He smirked at you. “Dunno if you do much of it anyways.”

You scoffed. “You treat all your girlfriends like this?”

Girlfriend. Peter liked how it sounded coming out of your mouth. He tossed his phone into one of the pillows, smugly crossing his arms against his chest as he looked at you. “Only the fake ones.”

You zipped up your luggage, placing a hand on one of the bedposts with quizzical eyes. “Oh? Plural?” You bit your lip. “Exactly how many fake girlfriends have you had, Peter?”

He slowly grinned with realization. “Are you jealous?”

“Nope.” You huffed, turning away. “I don’t get jealous of fake relationships. Or any — or any relationships.”

“Sure, Y/N.”

“I’m serious!”

He raised his hands in a surrender. “No, no, trust me. I believe you.” You playfully shook your head at him. “No need to be defensive.” He sat up, peering at you from across the room with puppy eyes. “You’re the only fake girlfriend I’ve had.”

“Very reassuring, Peter.” It shouldn’t have made you giddy, but it did. It was pathetic how a simple comment such as that made you smile. You forced yourself to keep a neutral face as you slipped under the bedsheets. “Lights off?”

“It’s your call.”

“Night, then.”

Peter sighed, throwing a blanket over his head. “Night.”

It was quiet. And for once, it felt cozy.

Yet Peter appeared cramped from his spot on the loveseat; his long legs were bent at an awkward angle, and you stifled a sleepy laugh at how he curled up like a ball. It was oddly endearing, seeing the grown man tossing and turning on either side of his body with frustration as he tried to withhold his sighs. Peter was obviously awake and the shifting of his movements wasn’t making it any easier for you to fall asleep.

You cleared your throat, hoping you’d catch his attention for a moment. “Comfortable over there?”

“Luxurious.” He mumbled almost immediately, like he anticipated your question. “You?”

“Spacious. I give it five stars, honestly.” You stared at the wall clock with wide eyes now, watching the second hand tick loudly in the darkness of the room. Pity loomed over you, having had plenty of experiences sleeping on an uncomfortable sofa, and you couldn’t help but become troubled at the idea of Peter waking up with a stiff neck and jumbled limbs. “Do you want to maybe… sleep here?”

Your voices were shy and quiet, but a tiny bit of excitement laced itself in your tone.

A breath escaped from his lips. “Like next to you?”

“You can take the other side.” You continued staring at the clock, ignoring how Peter’s head slightly raised from behind the loveseat. “I’m okay with anything.”

He paused, unsure of what to say next. “I don’t know about that.”

“You don’t have to.” You gulped as you suddenly felt dryness in your mouth. “Figured we’re, you know, both adults… and I guess I just want you to be comfortable.”

Another pause.

“I want you to be comfortable, Y/N.”

“Always am around you.” His heart skipped a beat.

Peter reluctantly got up from the other side of the room, padding over to the bed with short steps. Moonlight seeped through the drawn curtains, illuminating the conflict on his face and the jitteriness of his hands as he slid under the comforter. You felt his eyes searching your face, but you nervously trained your gaze to the ceiling. You were clutching the sheets tightly with newfound stiffness in your body as the bed dipped from added weight.

“Thanks.”

His jaw tensed as he tried not to move, not wanting to bother you with his restlessness. You felt dizzy as you attempted to even your breathing. Peter wasn’t sure where to put his arms, awkwardly tucking them by his sides as you continued to lay on your back. He could just feel the heat radiating off of you.

Silence, yet the both of you were wide-awake. You abruptly laughed at the awkward circumstances, and you cursed yourself as Peter’s head slightly rolled to the side to look at you.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hm.” You turned your neck. “Are you always this quiet?”

He yawned softly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, squinting your eyes at him. “Just kinda surprised since you make all sorts of noise back in your apartment.” You pursed your lips together. “It’s not very neighborly of you.”

“Neighborly? You know what’s not neighborly? Talking to your neighbors through the wall. Like some weirdo.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to do all that if you’d be quiet at night. You know, when people are sleeping and stuff.”

“Yet you’re always awake, listening to me.”

“And how do you know I’m awake?”

Neither you or Peter had noticed how your bodies were fully facing one another at this point, distracted by your banter while your eyes glazed over the intensity on his face. You weren’t sure if it was the mindlessness that came with sleep, or if you were just too caught-up in the conversation to care, but you don’t shy away.

His arm briefly brushed against yours as he propped his elbow up on the pillow, resting his head against his palm. It felt intimate with how close together you were now, but you mirrored his position without a thought. The night beamed between the strands of your damp hair, hiding the rosiness that creeped up your cheekbones while the corners of your mouth tugged into a knowing smile.

“You’re infuriating.” Peter whispered raspily.

There was an unexplainable form of tenderness expressed in his words. Your tongue darted out to lick at your lips, and his brazen eyes shamelessly followed the motion.

“Have you met you?”

He wanted to lean in. Every fiber of his being told him to do it — to kiss you softly, to cup your jaw and caress you like you were the most gentle creature in the world, scared that he’d break you, scared that he’d like you even more and more till it ate him alive. And every inch of you pleaded longingly in silence, ‘kiss me,’ as if you could hear his thoughts, as if you could feel the fear in his heart and the aching of his bones.

But Peter didn’t lean in. He just couldn’t. Instead, his hand trailed down the side of your face, tucking a loop of hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes at the sensation of his warm fingertips, afraid to look at him as you helplessly leaned into his touch.

Is this what neighbors do?

“Shut up and go to sleep, Y/N.”

You could hear the smile in his words, but there was a hopeless yearning in his heart that bothered him. You slowly opened your eyes and touched the skin in which his fingers had ghosted over. And for some reason, you felt a little disappointed. Moving to lay on your back again, you simply looked up at the ceiling, afraid that your face would give away a different story.

“Why do you always do that?”

His pulse was racing. “Do what?”

You frowned. “Touch me like you — you care.”

Peter was so quiet, and had you not completely been focused on the timbre of his voice, you would’ve missed it.

“Because I do care.” He paused, inhaling shakily. “I care about you.”

He was lying. He did more than just care about you. It was such a small word for the great things he felt.

“As friends?

Fuck. The bile in his throat had nearly choked him, and you bit your lip as his body shifted under the sheets.

“Yeah.” You hummed at that. “Do you… do you like it?”

You rolled onto your side, facing him. He was watching you carefully. “The friend part or the touching?”

Touching you. He laughed meekly. “Mm, the friend part.”

“I like being your friend.”

“I do, too.”

Is this what friends do?

The two of you studied each other’s faces, desire sinking in your pupils as you admired his features in the dark. But what Peter least expected was you reaching out to touch him, coursing a careful hand through his hair. You tugged lightly, undoing the knotted tangles in his curls like he had precisely done to you. An unspoken message was exchanged as you smiled kindly at each other.

For once, he slept peacefully that night.

Maybe Peter had no reason to be a coward after all, but a fool — oh, becoming a hopeless, falling fool for you was inevitable.

The following evening felt like a regular day between you and Peter. Neither of you had brought up the events of last night; not even when Peter woke up with your leg pressed against his, or when you caught Peter taking up your side of the bed with his long limbs in the morning. It was as if nothing happened, yet everything did at the same time.

But it was the day of Jessica’s wedding, and Peter had to play the part as your boyfriend. It wasn’t so difficult as he watched you apply lipstick in the bathroom, unable to stop staring at your reflection in the mirror.

And again, it wasn’t so difficult when you stepped out in a long backless gown, leaving him at a loss for words. “Do I look good?” You ran your hands along your hips, smoothing down the silky material.

“Stunning.”

You laughed shyly, pressing your hand to the warmth of your cheek. “Do you need help with that, Peter?”

You gestured to his messy necktie, and his eyes widened as he began to stutter. “Oh, I… I think I’ll figure it — well, actually yeah. I do.” He sighed with a sheepish smile, rubbing his neck as you approached to help him. His eyes flickered down to you, keeping a level head while you adjusted his collar and hummed a soft tune under your breath.

His skin looked soft in the glow of the afternoon hour and it took every ounce of your self-control to not reach for him.

“There.” You smiled, patting the lapels of his blazer as you took a small step backwards. “You clean up nicely, by the way.”

His whole face tinged with bashfulness. “You too.”

-

The reception was undeniably beautiful — exaggerated, and a bit rich for your taste but nevertheless beautiful. Everything was made of dark wood, from the giant beams and gazebo-like overhang as the ceiling, to the drink bar, to the floorboards. It was rustic in a cozy sense with clumps of leafy foliage and orange string lights dangling from above, accenting the white tables and chairs. Though it was outdoor, and the middle of winter in Jersey was practically freezing, you believed the backyard venue was as perfect as it could be.

Yet, your attention remained on Peter, who had been looking at you for the entirety of the earlier wedding ceremony. He had spared a few quick gazes at you in hopes of being subtle, yet, Peter hadn’t realized that he was the only thing occupying your mind, and the weight of his stare made your face hot. Moreso, the way his eyes would shift to your hands in your lap, as if he wanted to hold them. And even when Jessica and Issac were exchanging their vows, Peter just couldn’t stop stealing a glance at you. You ruled out the possibility that it was your imagination playing tricks, because even when you had your arm interlocked around Peter’s as you walked around the venue, he still couldn’t stop looking. Part of you knew he was just trying to sell the vision as your ‘boyfriend,’ but he was doing it too well — even when people weren’t looking at you or engaging with you both, he still had his arm out to guide you and his eyes trained on you as if there was no other person in the room but you.

But although the fluttering excitement from Peter’s touches and his glances were coursing adrenaline through your body, you couldn’t help but feel a bit saddened.

Weddings.

It reminded you of Sam and what could’ve been. It reminded you of the engagement band that was tucked away in your nightstand back home, collecting dust like it had collected countless memories. It reminded you of what it felt like to be loved, and your flaws, and the way Sam had been too good to be true.

Peter squeezed your hand softly, noticing the glaze over your eyes before you blinked back any form of emotion. You smiled weakly, and he frowned because he knew then what was wrong. “Oh, Y/N. I’m — I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s nothing to worry about. I just feel… dunno, it makes me feel a bit sad.” The two of you moved to lean on either side of a wooden beam, crossing your arms over your chests.

“Yeah. I can’t imagine how hard this might be.” He paused, biting the nail of his thumb. “Did you have it planned out?” You hummed to acknowledge his question. “The wedding with Sam and all?”

Your laugh was wistful. “No, not at all. We wanted to wing it, see what kind of chaos we could pull off.” Peter allowed the silence to take over, the conversation ending as a soft piano played in the background and the chatter of people began to grow. “Do you want something to drink?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up. Peter winced, shooting you a close-lipped smile and a shake of his head. “I’m good. You go get wasted, I’ll be the sober boyfriend.” You sent him a funny glare over your shoulder before you approached the bar, tapping your nails against the countertop while you sent a few glances his way. Once you were out of earshot, Peter had let out a tired sigh and a string of pointless mumbling. “Yeah, fake boyfriend. Jeez.”

Peter decided on leaving you alone to give you some space. He knew what you were feeling to a point. The constant reminders of loss and pain were something he also dealt with because of Gwen’s death. A few years ago, all it would take was for Peter to see a bouquet of flowers before he’d be crying into the sleeve of his jacket, or he’d pass by the Brooklyn Bridge and be in tears by the time he got home. Peter became accustomed to it though, but grief was different for everyone — the least he could do is comfort you and give you room to breathe.

He had been so occupied thinking about you, he hadn’t even noticed the tingling of his heightened senses; that never happened before, and it worried him.

He quickly scanned the gazebo before his eyes met Fisk’s, who had already been staring at him from one of the tables. The boy nodded his head politely, feigning a smile before Fisk excused himself and made his way over to him.

“Ah, Peter.” The bald man grinned toothily. The sound of his cane tapping against the floorboards was loud in Peter’s ears, drowning out the noise of laughter from the other guests. “Beautiful venue, isn’t it?”

“It’s great.”

“I take it you and Y/N have discussed…?”

Marriage?

Peter froze up, feeling his jaw grow tight. “No.” He laughed wryly, shaking his head as he tucked his fists into the pockets of his dress pants. “Not at all.”

“It would be a shame,” Fisk took a drink from the glass in his hand, raising it to a few groups of people who passed by. He let out a loud breath of satisfaction. “If you lost someone as determined, beautiful and,” He chuckled. “…wealthy as she is. Well, I mean, her family. It’s a sad story, what happened with her—.”

“Yeah, her parents,” Peter turned to glower at him. A scowl made its way onto his face, deepening the wrinkles of his forehead. “I know what happened.”

Was he gloating? Peter didn’t like where this conversation was headed, especially when Fisk was making the topic about you. At this point, Peter would have rathered Fisk to know of his identity as Spider-Man, than your actual one.

Fisk gave him a subtle once-over. “You’re from New York as well?” Peter nodded, checking over his shoulder to look at you. You were speaking with the bartender, unaware of the current interaction. “Familiar with Spider-Man, then?”

Fuck.

“Not really a fan.” Peter raised his eyebrows, speaking with venom directed towards the criminal. “Personally, I think he’s a bit of a dick. And the whole spandex thing he got going on? Awful.”

Fisk laughed heartily and downed the last drops of his drink. “Mhm, I see you’ll fit right in with this family.” Peter held back a scoff. “Perhaps you should pay me a visit when you’re back in the city. You and Y/N, I’d love to give you a tour of the new tower. Just renovated it, it’s quite beautiful.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Hey!” Peter turned towards the familiar voice to see you walking over. He noticed the small quirk of your eyebrow, almost as if you were asking him what was happening. He shifted uncomfortably, hoping you’d also take note of the message. “Wilson. Good to see you in something other than a white tux.” You were a bit tipsy, and for once Peter was thankful that you were talkative. You pressed yourself into his side, snuggling up to his arm before you looked into his worried eyes. “We’re gonna go dance now, yeah?”

“Yeah,” He met Fisk’s glare. “Excuse us.”

Peter softened at the way you tugged him towards the dance floor, wondering if you had any clue at what had just happened. An upbeat 80s’ song had been playing over the speakers; the bass drummed through your bodies as you swayed to the music. Peter allowed himself to smile, even though he was deeply disturbed from the earlier conversation between him and Fisk.

He did his best to keep up with the beat, feeling awkward with his long limbs and tall frame.

“What’d he say?” You neared Peter, leaning towards his ear so that he could hear you better (not that he needed to, because frankly, he could hear everything).

“Offered a visit to the tower.” Your face scrunched up. “Hey, you’re not going.”

“Peter.”

“I know you want to find out what happened with your parents, but…”

You interrupted him, slightly raising your voice in frustration. “If I could get info, it would be there.”

“But you’re not going unless I am.” He reached for your arm. “Look, I know how important this is to you. And I know I can’t… I can’t really stop you because you’re stubborn, and you’re you, which means you’re not gonna follow anything I say.” He laughed, knowing that he’d regret doing this once the moment came. “Who am I to stop you anyways?”

A smile broke out onto your face, and you nodded in agreement to his deal. “Thank you, Pete.”

His gaze lingered for longer than it should have. “Anytime, Y/N.”

The music faded into a gentle, romantic melody of guitar strings and drums. People began to leave the floor while a few couples flooded in, leaving you and Peter standing in the middle with uncertainty of what to do with yourselves. He fiddled with his tie, and you cleared your throat as you looked at the ground. The blood rushed to your cheeks as soon as you realized it was a slow dance, and Peter cursed to himself for thinking about how beautiful you looked when you were shy.

With shallow breaths, Peter outstretched his hand. You looked at it, then him, searching his eyes as if you were looking for something. If Peter couldn’t admit his feelings, then maybe, at least, he could give you a dance.

“May I?” He whispered softly. You nodded, and you rested your palms on Peter’s shoulders without a second thought, letting him take the lead as he guided you by the waist.

“Didn’t think you were the dancing type.”

His eyelashes fluttered, avoiding the butterflies in his stomach as you gazed up at him. “I’m not.”

Your lips twitched. “Neither am I.”

“Well, you haven’t stepped on my toes yet so…” He twirled you around slowly. It made you blush, leaving the apples of your cheeks incredibly hot. “I suppose you’re off to a great start.”

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you turned your face away from him, unable to take the intimacy of the moment. You rested your head against his blazer, staining it with makeup. You trained your gaze on the snowflakes from outside the gazebo, watching as it built patterns of snow among the grass. You made Peter nervous, like he was a boy in highschool taking a girl to prom. But it felt nice, as if it was meant to be. As if this feeling was always supposed to be familiar to him. He liked the image of your arms slung around the back of his neck.

“Peter, everyone’s looking at us.”

He glanced around, biting his lip. “Are they?”

“Yeah.”

A sweet chuckle left his throat.

“Y/N, I think they’re looking at you.” Your lips parted, but Peter went on to speak before you could continue. “I bet they’re wondering, what is this beautiful girl doing dancing with a complete idiot like that guy?”

The words found solace in the depths of your heart.

Maybe it was liquid courage, but your mouth worked faster than your brain.

“Why didn’t you kiss me last night?”

Peter almost fell to his knees. Your head lifted off of his shoulder. His eyes met yours, and he could see then, that you were being genuine. He gulped, and your arms tightened around him anxiously.

“I wanted to.”

Your hand travelled along his neck, up his cheek and to his temple before you played with his hair yet again like you had done hours before.

“What’s stopping you from kissing me now?”

“Everything.” He breathed out in a desperate tone, voice faltering as his grip tightened on you. “You’re drunk, Y/N.”

You scoffed, continuing to follow his steps. “Barely.”

“Would you say this stuff if you were sober?”

“I am sober.”

You didn’t break eye contact once.

Peter’s fingers tucked themselves beneath your chin, slightly tilting your jaw upwards. He hesitated as his eyes flickered to your lips, and you leaned forward. He pulled back a little to let his breath ghost against your face, before his other hand rested upon the exposed skin of your back. His nose bumped against yours, and you shakily exhaled. Your eyes were telling him an entire story, as if you’d been waiting for this moment. They told him you were fearful, you were excited, you were nervous, and that you wanted this as much as he did. He savored the feeling of your skin, the peak of his nose squishing against your cheek as if touching you was enough.

You could stop him right now, and he’d still be just as happy.

“Y/N, this isn’t neighborly at all.” He whispered, licking his lips as he pressed his forehead against yours. He could feel your chest against his, hearing your heart pound drastically.

You smiled, and Peter’s top lip barely brushed over yours. “And what do you know about that?”

“I know lots of things.”

“Like?”

“Like this.” His lips parted as his head tilted to meet you. His soft mouth connected to yours in a slow, drawn-out kiss. You tugged at Peter’s bottom lip with your teeth, eyelids opening slightly to survey his expression. He liked it, judging by the way he stepped closer towards you and his hands completely enveloped the frame of your face. You brushed his hair back, sighing against his swollen lips as you pulled away for relief. “And this.” You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, hoping he hadn’t heard it before he was softly peppering your skin with kisses.

“Peter…” You rubbed his jawline. His hand moved to the back of your neck to hold you. “Pete.”

He swiftly pulled back from your tone of voice, immediately searching your eyes. “Is — is this too much?”

Your nose pressed against his as you blinked up at him through your lashes. “You should’ve kissed me last night.”

He melted.

“I wish I did.” His hand found yours, and he squeezed tightly knowing that he was safe with you. “I wanna… I wanna tell you a lot of things.” You nodded at him. “I’m just… I’m not ready.”

“S’okay.” You smiled with understanding, shaking your head. “Nothing needs to change.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

You rested your forehead against his, blissfully shutting your eyes as the song began to dwindle to an end. You could still feel Peter’s lips on yours, how gentle he was. His curls tickled against your skin, causing a soft, natural giggle to leave you. Peter basked in the sound.

All of his senses, they were full of you. And as he watched you smile and laugh for the remainder of the night, he found himself falling even deeper than before.

-

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I Have Found You

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Aaron Hotchner Taglist - @braelyniskool, @canadailluminate, @filmsbyblair, @ready-4-spencie, @mrs-scottmccall, @j-cat, @cinderellacauseshebroke, @black-rose-29

Prompt - I have for the first time found what I can truly love. I have found you.

—————————————————–

You and Aaron had had a long week at work, each on separate cases but both equally as drained as the other. Your job saw you travelling to and from New York each day, working for one of the states best law firms, it was hard working your way up but you did it and now you were dealing with high profile cases day in and day out.

This case was particularly gruelling but it was finally finished and you had won. It was a small victory for the family but it was a victory nonetheless.

Aaron was working on his own case, he had been in Las Vegas for the past four days dealing with a serial killer who was targeting families. The unsub was organised, too organised, and more families were killed before they finally caught a break. From there it had been a matter of hours before they caught the man and the team was back on the jet.

Aaron finished up on the phone before dropping down into his seat beside Rossi who raised an eyebrow at him.

“Short of an emergency we all have Friday and Monday off, I don’t want to see any of you for four days.” Aaron announced to the jet, smiling as it was filled with cheers and laughter.

“So, big plans?” Rossi asked, smirking at Aaron who just rolled his eyes.

“I plan on doing absolutely nothing.” Aaron replied with a smile, already thinking of how great it would be to spend a long weekend with you and Jack, it had been far too long. He had already spoken to you and upon hearing the good news of your case asked if you could get two days off and thanked god that you could.

“I hear you, man.” Derek spoke up from opposite Rossi. “Four whole days of nothing but me and my girl.”

“What about you, kid?” Rossi asked, looking at Spencer who sat opposite Aaron.

“There’s a film festival I really wanted to go to actually, it's showing a bunch of different films in their original language.” Spencer told him and the grin on his face was enough to stop any teasing.

“Have a good time, pretty boy.” Derek smiled back, ruffling the younger man's hair causing him to pout.

Aaron couldn’t help but smile at the scene but as much as he loved this family, he couldn’t wait to get back home to you and Jack.

-

“How hard can cupcakes be, right?” You asked Jack, who stood on a chair in front of the counter. The two of you were staring at the ingredients that were spread out, not knowing where to start. When you suggested Jack make something for Aaron you were thinking more along the lines of a picture but when the kid suggested cupcakes well…you really wanted cupcakes.

“Right.” Jack agreed, grinning up at you.

Turns out it was harder to make cupcakes than either of you thought.

Aaron walked into the house, smiling immediately as he heard Jack giggling madly. He was quick to follow the noise but stopped abruptly as he stared into the kitchen.

“Daddy!” Jack yelled, quickly scrambling off the chair and throwing himself at Aaron who caught him and lifted him with ease despite the cupcake mixture that stuck to his clothes, face and hair.

“Hey buddy,” He grinned, turning his attention to you. There you stood, cupcake mix splatter on your face, in your hair and on your shirt. You looked dejected as you held an electric mixer, clearly the culprit of the cupcake explosion. “It looks like you and Y/N are having fun.” He said with a laugh, watching how you pouted up at him.

“We were gonna make cupcakes for you, daddy, but Y/N put it on too high.” Jack informed Aaron, giggling madly as he did.

“I didn’t know!” You defended, there was a reason you weren’t trusted in the kitchen.

Aaron’s smile grew and he couldn’t wait any longer to move closer to you, the hand that didn’t hold Jack caressed your cheek and he brought you in for a soft kiss. It didn’t last long, how could it with Jack laughing and making kissing noises, but the two of you pulled away with matching, love struck smiles before you and Jack began laughing together at the cupcake batter that was now perched on Aaron’s nose.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight back the smile.

“Alright, alright,” he said, gaining both of your attention, “how about you two get cleaned up and we can all go out for dinner and then get some cupcakes, hm? That sound good?” He asked Jack who nodded with a grin and squirmed for Aaron to put him down. Once he did, Jack shot off to his bedroom and Aaron turned his attention to you.

“You can’t of thought that was a good idea.” He said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning in to steal another kiss.

“The kid said cupcakes, who was I to say no?” You responded when he pulled away, giggling as he trailed kisses to your jaw and then peppered them down your neck.

Your eyes closed as you tilted your head back, giving the man more access and you couldn’t help but whine as he pulled away. The whine quickly turned into a laugh as he leaned closer and licked a blob of batter that had stuck to your neck.

“Go clean up, baby.” He said before kissing your head and untangling himself from you.

You and Jack were quick to clean yourselves up and soon you were all out the door and heading to a restaurant that you often frequented when you had Jack.

-

It felt like forever since you had been out with the Hotchner boys and you enjoyed every minute of it, no annoying work calls pulling one of you away, no looming threat of Aaron being called to a different state. No, just you, Aaron and Jack going out together, eating good food, catching up with each other properly.

It was wonderful.

“Cupcakes now daddy?” Jack asked as the waitress cleared the plates.

“Yeah, cupcakes now daddy?” You echoed with a smirk watching as Aaron playfully glared at you.

“Sure thing buddy,” He said to Jack, causing you to let out a quiet laugh. “Pick which one you want.”

Aaron couldn’t tell you who smiled wider when dessert was brought out, you or Jack. Both of you tucked in with the same hunger and he just smiled at the scene.

When you and Aaron had first met, it was to do with a case he was working on. He never expected it to blossom into this. The friendship was unexpected but not unwelcome and then before either of you had realised it you had developed feelings for one another.

You were quite a bit younger than him and he was hesitant to bring the feelings up, not understanding what you could possibly see in an older, divorced, single father.

That was the other issue, sure you knew about Jack but there was a difference between knowing about him and wanting to be a part of his life and as much as Aaron had liked you he knew he couldn’t bring somebody into his life who couldn’t accept Jack.

So the pining went on for months as Aaron made the decision for you that you didn’t want to be burdened with a child that wasn’t yours. And when you finally pulled Aaron’s head out of his arse and made him talk about the feelings between you, you could have slapped him silly.

Sure kids weren’t exactly your forte but you’d at least have liked the chance to decide that. From there Aaron had introduced you to Jack after the two of you went on a few dates. The two of you decided the best place would be out in public, a little less daunting and that’s how you ended up at the zoo.

Jack had warmed up to you rather quickly and you surprised yourself with how good you were with him. Eventually it was Jack asking if you could have a sleepover at their house rather than Aaron trying to explain that you might be there in the morning sometimes.

Aaron was so glad you had talked him out of his own head way back when, and as he watched you with Jack, he knew, not that there was any doubt, that he’d made the right choice.

-

“Can we watch a movie?” Jack asked as the three of you entered the house.

“Buddy, it’s nearly bedtime.” Aaron reminded him as he took your coat from you before taking his own off.

“Please daddy,” Jack pleaded, turning on the puppy dog eyes, “I’ll brush my teeth and put my pyjamas on.”

He looked at you but you were looking down at Jack with a soft smile and he couldn’t say no if he wanted to.

“Deal, teeth and pyjamas, we’ll meet back here in five.” Aaron said and grinned as Jack took off running.

“C’mere baby,” He mumbled as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping you up in his arms. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too.” You confessed into his chest before titling your head up. Aaron was quick to turn his head, leaning down and capturing your lips in a soft, slow kiss. When he pulled away he didn’t go far, resting his head on your forehead.

“Can’t wait to have you all to myself these next few days.” He told you quietly, fingers brushing against your waist.

“Me neither, it’s going to be heaven.” You replied, matching both his tone and the smile on his face.

“Daddy,” Jack’s voice pulled you away from each other and you turned to see the kid grinning up at Aaron showing his freshly brushed teeth and proudly wearing his Captain America pyjamas. “You and Y/N/N need your pyjamas too.”

“Of course we do!” You exclaimed, taking Aaron’s hand in yours and pulling him towards the bedroom with instructions for Jack to put a movie on.

“Really can’t wait to have you all to myself.” Aaron said again as he watched you pull your shirt over your head.

“Down boy.” You laughed, throwing the shirt at him.

Watching you undress made Aaron long to touch you but seeing you dressed in his clothes, sweatpants that were way too big for you and a college shirt that drooped off your shoulders was somehow infinitely sweeter.

“I love you.” He told you, pulling you close to place a kiss on your exposed shoulder.

“I love you too.” You smiled before turning around and kissing him. “Get changed.” You ordered.

“Yes ma’am.” Aaron laughed but did as you said.

Aaron couldn’t help but smile as he held his family in his arms. Jack was half in your lap and half in Aarons and you were sat flushed against him, head resting on his shoulder and your hand holding Jack’s leg.

The movie was still playing but Jack was fast asleep against his chest and you were pretty close to following. Despite that though, Aaron couldn’t bring himself to move and send you both to bed. Instead he tightened his grip on both of you, smiling as you cuddled further into him.

This, this was all he needed, you and Jack by his side. His little family, both of whom had been through so much. All he wanted to do was protect both of you and he would, god would he do anything to protect the pair of you.

You were one of the best things that had happened to him, he had known it since the day he had met you and he had known it two weeks ago when the team finished a case in California and he walked into the jewellers to buy the ring and he knew it now, looking down at you holding onto him and Jack.

He knew you were the best thing to happen to him in a really long time and he would forever be thankful that he had found you.

[watchmegetobsessed]

ALL IS FAIR

a/n: woohoo!! finally a harry fic! lol sorry i got very into marvel these past weeks but im finally bringing you some harry content! this one was originally requested by an anon sometime and then we kept talking about it until i actually got around to write it! hopefully you’ll like it and if you do, please like and reblog!

pairing: ceo!Harry x ceo!plussize!reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 16.7k

masterlist

“Stop being such a stuck up dick, it’s your birthday, bro!”

Harry rolls his eyes at his friend who walks into his penthouse as if he owned. Niall Horan was so well-known in Harry’s building that he could have easily walked into any homes in the tower and people would still welcome him warmly. It might have a few things to do with the fact that half of the residents in the Compass Tower are women who are hopelessly in love with either Niall or Harry, hoping for a chance to drag either of them into their bed one day. They have a lot more chance to do that with the Irish bloke than with Mr. Styles. Not that Harry doesn’t find them attractive, but he is not the type to have one night stands, something his friend gives him quite a lot of shit for.

“Would you fuck off for twenty more minutes?” Harry sighs, shooting him a look as he covers the speaker of his phone, in the middle of a call.

“You have ten minutes and we are leaving. I’m not letting you work on the night of your thirtieth birthday!” Niall warns him before walking into the kitchen to roam the always full, neatly stocked fridge.

As much as Niall Horan comes off as an irresponsible cocky child, he is quite the businessman himself as well. As the Lawyer of one third of New York’s most influential people, he surely doesn’t have to worry about making a living, enjoying his luxurious apartment a few streets away from Harry’s place on the Upper East Side. It’s not as expensive and impressive as Harry’s penthouse on the top of the tower his father built in the heart of the posh neighborhood most people only know from TV shows, but he couldn’t complain.

“Another designer refused to sign with us, H. We are running out of options,” Lambert’s voice rings through the phone as Harry turns to the floor to ceiling window, staring out to the city skyline in front of him.

“We have quite a few left, right?” Harry asks clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, but I heard that Cometa is planning on announcing something big next week so I think a lot of them are waiting for that to happen.”

“Do you think it’s another collab? But they just had fucking Chanel have a line sold through them!” Harry growls, his blood boiling at even just the thought.

When it comes to fashion in the virtual world, there are two businesses that totally dominate the industry. In the men’s wear, Twisted is definitely the number one selling place. The idea started off as just a freshman school project that originally wanted to sell tech stuff, but a few years into the project Harry met Lambert who was already a rising star in the fashion industry and they joined forces, creating the most classic yet affordable and user friendly online empire: Twisted. Though Twisted mostly features men’s clothing, they’ve been trying to venture to the field of women’s fashion, but it hasn’t been as easy as they thought it to be. And the reason for that is Cometa.

Cometa was originally a website where anyone could sell their own clothes, make their online wardrobe sale. But eventually the business grew itself out and stepped up a few levels, collaborating with various designers and brands, selling exclusive lines and a highly praised seasonal variety four times a year, earning a well-deserved top spot in the online fashion industry. It’s hard to compete with what Julia Bianchi built up through sweat and blood and Harry Styles has been working on stepping up to be a major competition for Cometa in women’s fashion, with not much luck so far.

To top the cake with a delicious looking cherry, Cometa has been trying to set feet into men’s fashion as well in the recent years, bringing out several lines with some mentionable designers, but they never made it be as big as Twisted. The two businesses have been trying to outdo each other for about a decade now, with not much luck so far and Harry’s patience is running low by now.

“I don’t know what it is, but keep an eye out. I’ll call you on Monday, alright?” Lambert sighs through the line.

“Okay, thank you,” Harry nods, feeling a little defeated.

“And happy birthday, man. Go and celebrate!” he chuckles, making Harry’s lips curl up as well.

“Thanks, have a good weekend,” Harry bids his goodbye before the call ends.

Wandering into the kitchen Harry finds Niall with the thickest ham and cheese sandwich between his hands, sitting at the kitchen island.

“So where exactly are we going tonight?” he asks, grabbing himself a granola bar as he joins the Irish lad on the stool next to him.

“Oh, that’s a surprise,” he grins, mouth full as he chews mercilessly. Harry grimaces, not sure how this is the same man who can convince a judge about basically anything, wearing his designer suits, putting on an intimidating and serious act for his cases.

“I have a switch,” Niall once told him when he asked how he does it. “I just turn it off when I’m off the clock.”

“You know I hate surprises,” Harry informs him matter-of-factly, but Niall doesn’t seem to be bothered by his comment.

“You’re thirty now, no one cares what you hate.”

“Says who?” Harry huffs.

“Me,” he grins, making Harry roll his eyes.

The bass is throbbing, red tinted lights illuminating the exclusive bar in the heart of Manhattan where Niall chose to gather some of Harry’s close friends to celebrate his thirtieth birthday. Sitting in the leather couches at a restricted area at the back of the place, they are hidden enough not to draw too much attention to themselves but still feel like they are part of the party.

“Cheers to three decades of this cocky motherfucker!” Niall beams as their glasses meet in the middle, everyone laughing and wishing Harry a happy birthday before they all chug their drinks.

Harry is not necessarily the type of person to enjoy going out too often, but he admits it’s been a while since the last time he let loose. It feels nice to have the evening to himself, leaving the business behind for just a couple of hours before he returns to his busy everydays.

Though the occasion is Harry’s birthday, Niall is surely enjoying the evening a tad bit more than his friend. After Harry sees him send down three tequilas in a row he realizes it’s not gonna end well if he doesn’t get some water into his system as well. Excusing himself from the group he heads to the bar, pushing his way through the dancing bodies until he finally reaches his destination.

Given how it’s a Friday evening, the place is packed and he waits in the line patiently while the bartender is fixing up the order of a group of girls a few stools down from Harry. Leaning onto the counter Harry runs his gaze over the dancing crowd, tapping his fingers against the surface to the beat, even bopping his head a little when he feels a push from behind him.

“Oh, sorry!” A female voice calls out and as he turns around he spots the owner of it, a young woman, her curvy body wrapped in a tight mini dress that leaves very little to Harry’s imagination as his eyes run up and down her figure. He has never seen a curvy girl as confident as her, she is radiating, drawing every male’s attention to herself like she is feeding off the hungry stares and dirty thoughts birthed by her.

Her eyes meet Harry’s gaze and the sly smirk that tugs on her perfectly shaped lips gives it away that she is not that sorry to be bumping into him.

“No worries,” is all he manages to say, the urge to drop to his knees right then and there stronger than anything he has ever had to fight.

“He won’t notice you,” she tells him and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The bartender. If you just stand there like that… he will never come here,” she explains.

“I’m not sure I have what catches his eyes,” he jokes, making her laugh and he swears his stomach drops at the heavenly sound.

“May I?” she arches an eyebrow and Harry nods, letting her step in front of him. He stands tall above her, eyes fixed on her figure as she leans onto the counter, the marble pushing her breasts up just enough to spark the bartender’s fantasies when he glances in her way. She waves at him with a charming smile and a moment later the guy is standing in front of her, ready to please her in any way she desires.

“Three vodka sodas and…” she turns in Harry’s way, her lips slightly parted and his breath hitches in his throat. “What did you want, handsome?”

“Just, uhh—Just two water, please.”

Her eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t comment on it, just adds the two water to her order. The bartender nods and disappears to fix up her drinks. Harry takes a deep breath and sticking his hand out to her he introduces himself.

“I’m Harry, by the way.” She takes his hand, shaking it firmly.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Harry. Are you here alone?”

“Um, no. I’m here with a few friends,” he replies nodding towards the back of the place. “Are you here with someone?”

Please don’t say your boyfriend, please!

“A few of my girlfriends,” she smiles, brushing her hair over her shoulder, flaunting a better look at her naked neck and just one glimpse is sending a whirl of dirty thoughts into Harry’s mind. He wonders how soft her skin would feel under his lips, what her moans would sound as he sucks on it, leaving a mark on her, letting every man in the house know that he made her feel good.

“Are you guys celebrating something?” Y/N asks, a knowing smile on her lips as she most definitely saw Harry staring at her.

“Actually, yeah,” he chuckles a little nervously. “It’s my birthday.” Y/N’s eyes brighten up as she beams at him.

“Really? Happy birthday then!”

“Thank you,” he smiles shyly. “Are you guys celebrating something too?”

“Well, I…” she starts, her thoughts wandering off for a second before she continues. “I kind of got promoted,” she explains and Harry smiles down at her warmly.

“Congrats then!”

The bartender returns with the drinks and she is already about to get her card from her little clutch when Harry pulls his card out, handing it over to the guy behind the bar.

“Birthday boys shouldn’t pay for others,” she smirks, but doesn’t try to fight him that hard.

“You can pay me back later,” Harry shrugs with a suggestive smirk on his lips. He doesn’t want to part ways with her, but she is obviously expected to be back with her friends and he needs to get back to Niall as well before he absolutely loses control. Stepping closer to him, Y/N slides a hand up his chest, her palm resting at the base of his neck as she leans to his ear.

“Save me a dance, birthday boy?” she murmurs into his ear, her lips brushing against him for a split second before she steps back, grabs her drinks and winking at him one last time she disappears from the bar. Harry stands there for a few more seconds before the bartender hands him back his card and snatching the waters from the bar he heads back to his friends.

 Luckily, Niall is slowing down a little, The water does him well and Harry finally doesn’t feel like he’ll have to take care of him, dragging him home once the night is over. Sitting by the table Harry is trying to focus on the conversation, but his gaze keeps wandering over to the dance floor, looking for one particular curvy figure in the sea of dancing bodies.

It takes him some time to spot her, but when he does, he is not able to tear his eyes away from her.

She is almost perfectly in the middle with her friends surrounding her, lips and shoulders swaying to the rhythm perfectly. He catches her chug down the last sips of her drink before she disregards the glass and gets back to dancing. Watching her every move intently, Harry feels his lips slightly part at the sight of this angel who is for sure a devil in the sheets. He can’t stop himself fantasizing about what it would feel like to dig his fingers into her thighs, kiss her neck, her cleavage that’s on show now, how her curves would fit into his hands perfectly. He wants to praise this woman, make her feel good and not just because he wants to be selfless and please her, but also because seeing this woman reach her high because of him would be the biggest ego boost for him and he just needs that.

“Go dance with her!” Niall wiggles his eyebrows at him when he catches Harry staring at her.

“What? No, I’m not a dancer,” he shakes his head, shifting his eyes away from the dancing goddess on the dance floor.

“Oh come on, don’t be a pussy!”

“I’m not a pussy, I just—“

“You’re a pussy. I saw her looking in your way as well, she wants your dick!”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry whines rolling his eyes. He doesn’t like it when he gets so vulgar, but luckily no one heard their conversation. Glancing back in Y/N’s way Harry sees how men are eyeing him, probably building up the courage to go up to her and that has his blood boiling. He needs to be the one to touch her.

Chugging down the rest of his drink he snaps the glass on the table before standing from his seat, ignoring Niall’s cheering as he makes his way into the crowd.

Harry didn’t lie when he said he is not a dancer, he feels uncomfortable, awkward and uncoordinated most of the times he tries to dance, but he is pushing all of those to the back of his mind for now as his eyes are set on one person in the crowd.

When Y/N spots the man approaching her, she can’t push a pleased smile off her lips, slowing her movements down as Harry finally reaches her, leaning closer to her ear so she can hear his voice over the music.

“Here to collect that dance,” he smugly tells her, making her laugh, though the music is too loud to let him hear her. She just nods and turning around she presses herself up against him, her backside fitting his front perfectly. Harry’s hand snake around her waist, his large palm smoothly moving through the silky fabric of her dress as they start moving together.

She is intoxicating, makes Harry feel like he is some kind of horny teenager, like he hasn’t dealt with women before, but in a way, she makes all of his past flings appear to be only girls. Her confidence in her own body is easily one of her best traits, the way she handles herself, moves her body, the look in her eyes, Harry is getting drunk on just watching her and now he is able to touch her as well.

When he feels himself getting hard in his pants, he knows he should be at least a slightly bit embarrassed by himself, but as Y/N turns around in his arms and he sees the pleased smirk on her lips, the feeling vanishes in a heartbeat. She wraps her arms around his neck as she pulls him close, her lips brushing against his lips.

“Enjoying yourself, birthday boy?” she prompts before pressing a kiss to the soft skin under his ear and he can’t hold a growl back. The friction is almost unbearable, as his hands slide lower on her back, stopping on her ass, he knows he won’t be able to control himself any longer. Luckily, he is not the only one having this inner fight.

Snapping around Y/N grabs his hand and starts pulling him through the crowd towards the hallway of the bathrooms. He follows her eagerly, lucky for them, the club doesn’t have restrooms with several stalls, but single bathrooms with a lot more comfort and privacy. Just what they need right now.

They find the third bathroom empty, pushing their way inside and locking the door before Harry pushes her up against it the moment it’s just the two of them, their mouths hungrily meeting in the middle. He almost grunts against her lips, she tastes even better than he imagined and the way her tongue is the first one to come into action has got his mind blown. His hands roam up her body, running up all her curves until they reach her face and he cups it in his palms, pressing his hips against her. She moans against his mouth when his hard cock pokes against her, both of them desperate to take it further.

Tumbling further into the small bathroom, he helps her up to the counter next to the sing, her legs instantly opening for him, her tiny dress rolling up her thighs, revealing her clothed sex. Harry eagerly kisses his way down her neck and chest, her skin feeling so smooth under his lips. His fingers hook under the thin straps of her dress, tugging them down so he can push the dress past her full breasts and thank God she is not wearing a bra underneath!

“Fuck me, you are so hot!” he breathes out, making her chuckle at his reaction.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she cockily answers before Harry’s mouth attaches to her nipple, his hand working on her other breasts before he switches.

He quickly gets down on his knees, pushing her underwear to the side before his lips and tongue meet her sensitive clit.

“Oh shit!” she moans, a hand coming to tangle in his hair while she tries to hold herself steady with leaning on the other one behind her. There’s no time for teasing now and they both know that.

She is so lost in the experience, Harry is licking and sucking just the right spots and she tries to close her legs, locking his head between her thighs. His arms come to curl around them, ring clad fingers digging into her flesh and the situation might be a little suffocating for him, but he doesn’t mind it a bit. In fact, if he died this way, he would die a happy man.

She doesn’t let him finish what he started, pulling him up, his lips still glistening from her own juices as she kisses him messily, wiggling herself out of her underwear while he undoes his pants as well.

“Shit, do you have a condom?” he breathes out when his palm wraps around his throbbing cock. She nods, reaching for her clutch she dropped to the counter and digging into it she grabs the package, smacking it against his chest playfully. “Were you planning to do this tonight?” he grins cockily as he rips the package open and starts rolling it down his hard length.

“No, I’m just smart, unlike you,” she retorts, her sass dripping from her tone and it just riles him up even more.

Grabbing her thighs he yanks her to the edge of the counter, a gasp leaving her plump lips as she tries to find her balance quickly.

“Don’t be a brat,” he growl against her lips before kissing her, while he lines himself up with her, the head already pushing in.

“Then fuck me, birthday boy,” she challenges him again and it’s the last straw.

Harry slams into her, both of them moaning at the sensation before he starts thrusting in a fast pace, needing all the friction he can make to get them to finish as soon as possible. Y/N’s head falls back as she holds onto the back of his neck, her other hand on the counter behind her again and Harry glances down, watching her breasts bounce every time he rails into her, slamming his whole length into her every time their hips meet.

She reaches for one of his hands that’s holding her thigh and she boldly brings it to her core, tapping his fingers to her clit, letting him know that she wants some extra effort. Harry doesn’t say it, but he is blown how she didn’t just do it herself, she made him do it. It’s got to be one of the hottest things he has ever seen.

“Fuck, go harder!” she gasps, wrapping her legs around his waist as he picks the pace up, feeling his orgasm building rapidly with each thrust.

They both are a whimpering, moaning mess, the bass of the music is thumping outside and for a moment, Harry feels like he is finally living his life to the fullest.

“I’m gonna cum!” she breathes out, his name falling from her lips moaning after that and when she pulls him down to kiss him, biting into his bottom lip and tugging it, he loses himself.

He feels himself jerking inside her, still sliding in and out of her as he grunts, releasing himself into the condom. He flicks his fingers on her clit at the same time, creating just enough friction to push her over the edge as well. He is coming off his own high when her walls tighten around his cock, dragging his orgasm out even longer as she basically screams, gasping for air, riding her orgasm out to the last bit.

Leaning down he kisses her again though they are still panting, this time making it a lot less rushed than the time their lips met for the first time. Her legs fall from around his waist and he pulls out, both of them cleaning themselves up in the aftermath of their little session.

“I know this was quite rushed and all that, but can I have your number?” he asks, even feeling a little nervous. She puts her underwear back on, smoothing her dress down as she smiles up at him, cupping his face in her palm.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to skip on that,” she tells him simply, shocking him for sure.

“D-Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“No,” she shakes her head and now Harry is confused.

“You didn’t enjoy it?” he then asks, trying his best to figure out the reason behind the rejection.

“I did. But it was a one time thing. If it’s supposed to turn into more…” she sighs, grabbing her clutch from the counter. “Then I’ll leave it to fate if we ever meet again,” she shrugs before turning around she just unlocks the door and walks out, leaving Harry stand there in complete and utter shock.

This is definitely a first for him, a woman who doesn’t want to see him again. He is not that egoistic to think that everyone is in love with him, but he never had an encounter similar to this. Not after the most amazing sex ever.

Harry fixes himself up, still not believing she walked out that easily, but there’s not much he can do now. Walking back to his table, he acts like nothing happened and when his eyes scan over the crowd again, he can’t see her anymore.

Harry lets out a tired sigh when Zayn, head of the graphic design department walks into his office with a familiar brown paper bag with the logo of Harry’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Has it started already?” Zayn asks, though glancing at the big screen on the wall he can see the stream is still waiting to be started.

“No, I’ve been staring at it for like twenty minutes,” Harry grumbles, pushing himself away from his desk to join Zayn on the couch in front of the screen as he unpacks the food. “What do you think it’s going to be?”

Today is the day of Cometa’s big press conference and no one knows what they are about to announce. It’s been keeping Harry on the edge for the past few days, because whatever it is, it has got to be major. Julia Bianchi is not the type of person to hold press conferences, she is a private person who has managed to keep most of her life behind closed doors. That’s something Harry admires in the woman even though they are competitors in the business. He can relate to wanting to keep her life just for herself, he has been doing the same thing. No public appearances, no lengthy interviews, no photoshoots. He likes to let his work talk for himself and it’s proved to be a successful move so far.

“I don’t know, but I hope they don’t suddenly announce a full graphic makeover right before our update,” Zayn chuckles. He has been working on an entirely new appearance for the website these past weeks and it’s supposed to go live sometime later in the month. A change for Cometa would totally throw their attempt off, making them look like they are just copying Julia’s move.

They eat and wait for the stream to start when the screen finally comes alive. There’s an empty stage shown with just two mic stands in the middle and nothing really happens for a few minutes before clapping is heard from behind the camera and Julia finally walks on the stage.

The woman is a real diva. Wearing a matching pant suit with bold floral print all over it, her short hair is neatly straightened into a bob cut, her red lips smiling lightly as she waves around in the room. Julia has been in the fashion industry for almost three decades now and she surely made a name for herself, sitting front row in every fashion show she attends, her words on any new trend being basically the standard.

Stepping to one of the mics, she clears her throat as the clapping dies down and her calm, gentle voice rings through the speakers.

“Welcome, everyone, thank you for coming, as you might already know I’m Julia Bianchi, head of Cometa, the world’s best online women’s fashion house.”

Harry leans back in his seat, eyes fixed on the woman on the screen as he is patiently waiting to hear what she’s got for the people this time.

“I’ve spent twenty-seven wonderful years in the business, building my own one for the past two decades. I fell in love with fashion as a child and moved to Milan to study designing from the bests. Though designing has always and will always hold a special place in my heart, I saw an opportunity in the early years for a brand that would hold together every other brand in the industry, bringing it to everyone’s home thanks to the rapidly developing technology. Cometa has always been my little baby and I’m proud of everything I achieved as head of such a great company.”

Harry realizes what it’s about before Julia could even say the words herself. The phrasing, the nostalgic tone, it’s all adding up to the obvious: Julia is about to announce her retirement.

“I gave the best years of my life for this company and I regret nothing, but recently I’ve realized that it is time for me to slow down for a little bit and enjoy a life that’s not filled with work anymore, and spend more time with my beloved husband, Fabio and my family who supported me on my long way here. Therefore, I am now announcing it with an aching heart and a lot of excitement as well that I am stepping down from my role as CEO of Cometa. I might be leaving now, but my business will not. So it is a pleasure to introduce you the person who will carry my legacy on, my amazing niece, the absolutely most perfect woman to carry on the work I started, Y/N Y/L/N.”

The moment another woman comes into the picture Harry almost chokes on his own saliva, seeing the same curves he had his fingers dug into last Friday. Y/N smiles and waves around as she steps to the other mic next to her aunt, exchanging a short look with her before turning towards the people in the room and the camera that’s streaming the event.

“Dude, you alright?” Zayn asks, patting Harry’s back a few times as he is still struggling to breathe normally.

He refuses to accept that the woman he fucked in a bathroom on his birthday, the one that made him moan like never before, is the same woman who is going to take over his biggest competitor.

“This has got to be a joke,” he breathes out with teary eyes from all the coughing.

“It is an honor to be here,” Y/N starts speaking as the clapping dies down once again and the two men are staring at the screen. “Just like to be the one to step into the perfectly stylish shoes of my aunt. I hope to live up to not just her and everyone else’s expectations, but also to mine as well. I grew up watching my aunt build up this empire with basically dust so to be the person to take her place is a dream come true. I promise to keep the quality the same and work on improving Cometa to its possible best while being in charge.”

As she finishes talking, questions are thrown in her way, but Harry doesn’t pay attention any longer. Standing up he walks to the window, staring out to the city as he chews on his bottom lip anxiously.

“What the fuck is your problem, H? It wasn’t as bad as we expected, right?” Zayn questions.

“It’s fucking worse!” he snaps turning around. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Would you just tell me what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that… I told you about what… happened on my birthday.”

“The bathroom fuck, oh yeah,” Zayn chuckles with a playful shine in his eyes.

“Well, that woman… the woman I fucked was her.” Zayn stays silent for a moment before he turns towards the screen, eyeing the woman on the stage as she is still answering questions, standing confidently in her tight, black dress and red heels.

“You fucked Julia Bianchi’s niece? And she is now taking over Cometa?” he raises his eyebrows at Harry who just nods, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “And she is also the one who didn’t give you her number?”

“Don’t… bring that up. But yes, it’s her.”

Zayn starts laughing, clearly finding Harry’s misery entertaining, but Harry doesn’t feel like taking it that easy. He wonders if she knew who he was, if she did it on purpose or it was fate’s horrible joke on both of them.

“Ah man, that charity event on Saturday will be one hell of a show then!” Zayn points it out and Harry’s face falls. He totally forgot about the charity event he was invited to, one that would have the biggest names in the fashion industry together in a ball room to raise money for a chosen good cause. It happens every year and it’s a major event, the perfect place to network and also to see your biggest enemies. That means that Harry will see Y/N again in a few short days and if he is being honest… he is not ready to face her, not after the information he learned today. Sighing he steps to the minibar he insisted on having in his office and though he never drinks during the day, he now thinks that now might be an exception. He pours himself some whiskey and before he chugs it down at one go, he lets out a long, tired sigh.

“That’s just my luck…”

Leslie helps you with the zipper of your dress, the silky, red fabric hugging your body like a second skin. She smoothes the wrinkles out while you fix the straps, staring back at yourself in the mirror with judgment. You need to look perfect, this is going to be your first time appearing at an event as CEO of Cometa, your big entrance into the industry, you can’t let anything go wrong.

“You look gorgeous, babe,” Leslie smiles at you, bringing your hair behind your shoulders as her eyes meet yours in the mirror. Leslie might be your assistant, but she is a lot more than that. You’ve been friends for almost a decade and when she lost her job a few years ago you didn’t hesitate to offer her a spot next to you. You wouldn’t be here without her, she doesn’t try to use her privilege of being your friend to not do the work, she is always on top of her game and you’ll always be grateful for her to not make it awkward at all.

“I think you need some diamonds though,” she winks at you, stepping to the table where all kinds of jewelry is sprawled out. She reaches for a simple one, not too much, quite elegant and you nod as she holds it up for you. Walking behind you she brings it around your neck, the diamond brilliantly sitting on your chest now, giving that little extra shine to your outfit.

“You’ll make every man fall in love with you,” she smiles at you and breathing out you nod, hoping to believe that everything will go perfectly.

While you make a few last minute calls she gets dressed as well before the car arrives for the two of you. She is wearing a less daring but still beautiful black dress, her curly hair pinned up into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, her heavily freckled face bright from her happy smile as the two of you make your way to the event.

“I know it’s ridiculous, but I tried to memorize the faces and names from the guest list,” she grins at you, earning an eyeroll.

“Les, I told you, this is not The Devil Wears Prada,” you chuckle softly. She is obsessed with that movie and hasn’t shut up about feeling like she is literally living in it since your aunt has shared her plans with you about your future position last year.

“I know, but it might be impressive if you already knew everyone!”

You have to give that to her, it would earn you a few good points if you knew the names already, you’re just still nervous about the whole thing. So many things could go wrong and you want it to be perfect.

 At first you feel intimidated by all the influential people around you. Everyone here is one of the bests in their own field and you feel like an impostor, but then you remind yourself that you earned your spot. Your aunt wouldn’t have given you the company if she didn’t trust you entirely with it. You worth no less than anyone else in this ball room and that reminds you that… you’re that bitch.

Leslie’s knowledge of names actually comes handy. You love seeing people get shocked when they try to introduce themselves to you, but you already greet them saying their names. It earns you some appreciative looks as you make your way around the room. Everything is going smooth, right until you spot one particular man in the crowd.

You’re in a little circle with a few designers when your gaze falls on Harry who is standing across the room, talking to two men. The champagne almost slips from your hand when you realize it’s him.

“Leslie,” you grab her wrist catching her attention. “Les, who’s the man in the blue Gucci suit?” you ask in a whisper and she follows your gaze, finding the man in talk.

“Oh, that’s Harry Styles, head of Twisted.”

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you quickly excuse yourself from the conversation and head out to the balcony to get some fresh air before you faint right on the spot.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Leslie follows you.

“I messed up,” you squeak as you step outside, the chilly evening air hitting your uncovered skin immediately. “I messed up big time!”

“What? Why? What happened?”

Stepping to the edge, you wrap your hands around the railing, staring out into the void for a moment. Leslie Stands beside you, quite puzzled about your sudden panic.

“Remember the guy I told you about from Friday night?” you ask, keeping your voice down even though there’s no one really around. Leslie nods. “Well… he was the guy.”

Leslie glances back inside and then at you before her eyes widen and lips part in shock.

“You fucked Harry Styles at a club’s bathroom?!” she whisper-yells at you and you feel like a teenager who is getting scolded.

“I didn’t know who he was! And I genuinely think he didn’t know me either, how could he?! But now he is here and… Oh God, this is so bad,” you whine, your head dropping backwards as you let out a frustrated growl.

“Okay, don’t panic. Maybe… maybe he doesn’t remember you.”

“You can’t make me believe he doesn’t remember me after fucking me on a counter,” you tell her giving her a look.

“Alright, alright. Then… you just have to suck it up. It’s not like you can unfuck him,” she shrugs and though you know she is right, you just wish you could leave right now.

You never planned on seeing him again. Your bullshit speech about letting fate decide it was just an excuse to not give him your number. You didn’t want to because you thought he is not the kind of man that would be good for you. From his look you thought that he was either a fuckboy, not willing to commit to anything serious, or the kind of man that seems all nice and respectful at first but then turns out to be a total asshole and you’ve had enough of those in your twenty-eight years.

Soon enough you head back as the auction is about to start. Luckily, your seat is far away from Harry and it seems like he hasn’t noticed you yet. Though you wish to keep it that way, you can feel it coming already.

The auction goes by fast, you buy a new painting that will look amazing in your living room and almost twice as much money is raised through the evening that was the goal. You leave Leslie behind at the table as you go to the bar to get yourself another drink, probably your last one of the evening if you don’t want to end up making a fool out of yourself.

Patiently waiting at the bar you’re already thinking about watching Grey’s Anatomy when you get back and out of this tight dress. You look hot, but it’s not the comfiest look, if you’re being honest. There’s only one more person in front of you when you feel a little tap on your shoulder and turning around your stomach drops when you see the man you’ve been trying to avoid all evening.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N,” he nods shortly, his expression is quite blank, but he is definitely not shocked to see you. You tighten your jaw before looking away from him, squinting your eyes a bit.

“You don’t seem surprised,” you point out.

“I was kind of expecting to see you here tonight.”

“So you knew who I was all along?” you snap at him, but he shakes his head.

“Not until the stream this week. I was pretty shocked when you walked on stage.”

Nodding shortly you brush your hair over your shoulder and you catch Harry glimpsing down your body, but decide not to comment on it.

“Did you know who I was?” he then asks, digging his hands into his pockets.

“No, I wouldn’t sleep with my biggest competitor willingly.”

“Just from the abrupt ending I had a feeling that you might have known me.”

“Just because a woman doesn’t throws herself into your arms after a fuck, doesn’t mean she had ulterior motives,” you scoff. “Get off your high horse,” you add before turning back towards the bar so you can order your drink. Unfortunately, Harry doesn’t want the conversation to end just yet. His hand is laid flat on the counter in front of you as he stands on your right, a little too close to your liking. You can smell the expensive cologne on him, the same that hit your nose on Friday as well and suddenly your body is betraying you.

However crazy the situation is, you can’t deny that he gave you one of the best times last Friday. Men you dealt with were more concerned about their own pleasure and most of them didn’t even get you to finish. But Harry made it happen so fast and didn’t even bitch about it when you made him rub your clit. He just obeyed like a grownup man who is willingly take care of his partner. That almost made you change your mind about leaving, but once you came down from cloud nine, you returned to your original plan.

But not as he is standing in front of you and you can smell him, your senses trick you into thinking that you’re in that bathroom again, almost aching for him to touch you the way he did then. He leans closer to your ear as he speaks up again.

“Leave the drink, dance with me,” he tells you as the bartender places your drink in front of you. You debate what to do before grabbing the drink and chugging it down in one go. You’ll need the alcohol if you are about to dance with your enemy.

Harry takes you to the dance floor in the middle of the ball room, one of his hands finds the small of your back while the other takes your hand as the two of you start swaying to the gentle music played by the band.

“Your aunt set my company back in women’s fashion every time I tried to take a step forward. Are you going to do the same?”

“She didn’t do anything to set you back but to build her own company. Not everything is about you.”

“You sound a little naïve, Love. It’s pretty clear you are new in the business.” This statement riles you up big time. How dare he degrade you like that? He knows nothing about you, yet he assumes things that are not at all real.

Smirking to yourself you lean back enough so your gazes can meet. Your hand slides up from his shoulders to the base of his neck so your fingers can gently brush against his skin and you notice the shudder than runs down his spine. He is not the only one having flashbacks from your last encounter.

“Wanna know what I know about business?” you purr, his eyes glued to your red lips as you speak. “I know that… Twisted was one of the last sites to participate in personalized ads on online platforms, failing to reach it’s targeted audience as fast as literally everyone else. I know that your company and my company use the same security system in our server rooms yet I can assure you that it cost me twenty percent less because we waited a month before installing it and got a huge last minute discount because the security company was trying to boost their numbers for their end of year closing. And I also happen to know that you are working on a new design for your website that could easily be outshone if I just did the same before you could do it.”

Harry’s lips part, probably mostly at the last information. He has no idea how you know these stuff, but you have a wide circle of connections in the city, you have an insider at every big companies in the industry without them even knowing. You’ve given countless tips to your aunt through the years, that’s how she managed to stay on top of her games.

Leaning closer your lips almost brush against him and you see how he weakens, he is expecting you to kiss him and he wants it. But you just smile at him, your eyes snapping down to his lips before up to his eyes.

“I will not do the same as my aunt, Harry,” you softly speak, your fingers grazing the back of his neck. “I will do way worse things.”

And with that, you slip out of his arms and walk back to your table, leaving him standing there alone at a complete loss of words.

“What the fuck had gotten into you?” Niall grimaces upon hearing everything he told you on the evening of the charity event. And quite frankly, Harry has no answer to that. He has absolutely no idea what had gotten into him to act like such a dick when you didn’t do anything against him.

The situation just messed with his head, seeing you in that breathtaking dress, mingling with everyone, smiling and laughing, oh how he wished you were laughing on his jokes! But then you seemed so tensed when he came up to you and something just switched in him. He wanted to take dominance, to somehow get out of it on top, but he miserably failed. When you brought up their plans to change the design he completely froze.

“No idea, okay? I just…lost it,” he growls, sinking into the couch. When Niall found out that Harry met the woman from the club again he insisted on coming over with some wine to talk it out, but he was not expecting this kind of story at all.

“Dude, you just put yourself on her radar big time, maybe she wouldn’t have even bothered to compete with you like her aunt did, but you surely changed her mind now.”

“I know, Niall!” Harry growls, not in the mood to be scolded like a little child. “Do you think she’ll change their design before we do?” he peeks at his friend, but Niall just shrugs.

“No idea, but I would try to speed it up before she actually does it.”

 Harry made you into a ticking bomb and you successfully got under his skin about the whole design project so first thing the next morning he went to Zayn to discuss a possible earlier debut for the new designs. Though it would be a close stretch, they agreed that it would go live by the end of the week and that got Harry somehow a little relieved, but in the middle of that he failed to put the right amount of effort into finding designers for their female lines.

When he meets up with Lambert a few days later he is not there to deliver great news. Apparently, three out of the four designers they were negotiating with recently pulled out of their deal and signed a contract with Cometa.

“We have one last designer on the list, but then… we are out of the bigger names,” Lambert sighs as Harry chews on his bottom lip anxiously. He feels like he has fallen into a hole a while ago and instead of climbing out he is just digging it deeper underneath him.

“Okay, do we have an appointment with them?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, I’m meeting her this afternoon.”

“I’m going with you,” he nods before standing from his chair and opening the door he calls out for his assistant. “Rebecca, please clear my schedule for this afternoon, I’ll be out of the office.”

Rebecca nods behind her desk, already starting to make calls about Harry’s meetings and appointments.

It’s obvious he is anxious about the meeting, because if it falls through they are forced to look for less known designers and that won’t bring the change for the company they’ve been seeking for a long time. Arriving to the showroom where the designer is working, Harry is setting his thoughts straight, determined to convince her to sign a contract with them. The two men are let into the building by the nice assistant working at the front desk and she shows the way to the showroom where Kennedy, the designer is waiting for them.

Harry is confident, he trusts his skills to make this happen, but when they walk inside he instantly freezes upon seeing an all too familiar figure standing with Kennedy

A maroon colored pantsuit is hugging your curves, a Hermés handbag hanging from your arm, your hair falling in loose curls. As if you could sense his presence, you peek over your shoulder, a devilish smirk on your lips when you see the shocked expression on Harry’s face.

“What a great surprise!” you beam, selling how happy you are to see him and in a way, you are. You wanted to see his face drop when he realizes you snatched yet another designer from him.

“Oh, Mr. Styles!” Kennedy smiles nicely at him and he finally snaps out of his trance, shaking hands with her and then turning to you, doing the same but in a lot colder manner.

“Y/N, nice to see you again,” he fakes a smile as your hand falls from his palm.

“I could say the same. But I’m heading out now. Great talk, Kennedy. I’ll be waiting for your call,” you wink at the young designer who seems to be thrilled by your words as she walks you to the exit.

“Fucking hell,” Harry mumbles under his breath and Lambert shoots him a look before Kennedy returns.

The three of them take a seat on the couches in the corner of the room and Harry is quick to get down to business, trying his best to make his offer appear more appealing than anything you told her right before their arrival. Kennedy listens intently, even takes notes and then she shows him some examples of what she was thinking about for her next line and Harry is beyond thrilled.

Unfortunately, soon comes the painful part.

“Harry, I’m gonna be honest with you,” Kennedy starts and Harry already knows what she is about to say. “Your offer is very tempting and it would be an honor to design a line for Twisted, but in my situation it would be more beneficial if I collaborated with Cometa. It is nothing against your company, it’s more about my personal path and growth.”

Harry can feel his stomach dropping and he clenches his jaw as he listens to Kennedy’s worth. He understands, of course he understands, she has the right to selfishly look at her own benefits upon signing with a new company, but he wished she would take the risk and chose his company instead of yours.

“I’m keeping the offer open for you still,” he forces a smile on his face. “If you change your mind, Twisted would be more than happy to work with you.”

Kennedy walks the two men out and the fake smile quickly vanishes from Harry’s face upon stepping out of the building.

“What are we going to do now?” Lambert asks, clearly worried about how they’re gonna move forward with their last chance falling.

“If Y/N wants a war, that’s what she’ll get,” Harry growls, revenge burning in the greens of his eyes.

It’s a quiet Friday afternoon, only hours left from the day before you are headed home finally. You’re sitting in your office with Leslie, going over next week’s schedule to make sure everything is set and clear.

It’s been almost an entire month since you stepped into your aunt’s shoes as head of the company and though the start was a little rough, especially with finding out who Harry was, but you feel like you have everything under your control by now. After all, you didn’t learn business for years from the bests for nothing, right?

Harry’s comment on you knowing nothing about the industry made you bitter, because he knows nothing about you and the struggle you went through your life to get to this point. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbow, being Julia’s niece might have been a hugely influencing aspect of you taking over, but you worked your ass off to be the best leader you can and not just ruin everything she built up through her whole life.

Though you didn’t always want to be the one following her, but you like to think that things worked out to your favor and you are where you should be.

“Alright, everything is looking fine,” Leslie smiles at you over her laptop. “I’ll send you the notes from today’s meeting.”

“Thank you. Can you call in with the delivery company about next month’s transactions?” you ask her and she nods, already adding it to her list of tasks for the rest of the day. “Alright. I’ll do the rest of the signings and then we can head out,” you smile at her.

Leslie is grabbing her things from the table when there’s a soft knock on the door. You give your permission and one of the tech support guys walk in with a worried look on his face.

“Miss Y/L/N? I’m afraid we have a problem,” he clears his throat and you can already feel your anxiety crawl up on your spine.

“What is it?” you ask firmly. The guy steps farther inside, fumbling with his fingers as he presents the issue.

“There’s been an attempt to break our software’s security system where we keep our data about the sellings. A-And I’m afraid it wasn’t just an attempt, they succeeded.”

You take a deep breath, glancing over at Leslie for a moment before you follow the man to the tech department to investigate the issue further. You don’t know shit about these stuff, but from what he said you know the trouble is huge and if you don’t solve it as soon as possible, valuable data could leak out to the public. They try to explain you what they are working on as of right now and that there’s not much you can actually help with.

“Make sure to put your extra hours on your attendance sheets and let me know when you are able to restore the system,” you tell them and you earn quite a few thank yous on your way out for actually paying the overtime. Then you turn to the guy that first came to your office. “Do you have any information about who it could have been?”

“We weren’t able to track them back, but whoever it was, they’re surely professionals and they might know the system from the inside.”

“What do you mean from the inside? Someone did it from the company?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together as you fold your arms on your chest.

“No,” he shakes his head. “We would have been able to track that back. I mean that they know the system, maybe they worked somewhere where the same one was used and they could see into it.”

It takes you a few moments before you realize what this really is and it has your blood boiling right away. Nodding shortly you exhale sharply through your nose.

“Thank you, please call me when it’s up and running again, I’ll take care of the rest,” you tell him before turning around you walk away.

When Leslie sees you approaching your office with a head practically turning red she is quick to jump to her feet, following you into the office.

“What’s happening?”

“Harry Styles, that’s what happening,” you snap as you grab your phone, purse and coat before heading out, not wasting another minute.

“What? Where are you going now?”

“To the devil himself,” you growl back and enter the elevator, leaving her alone with her questions.

Sitting in your car on your way to the headquarters of Twisted, you imagine every scenario you want to make happen when you arrive, most of them including hitting the man across his ridiculously handsome yet annoying face. He crossed a line with breaking into your system and stealing valuable data. Though you’re sure he wouldn’t dare to sell or publish it, because he would be in a big legal trouble if he did, he still had a glimpse into your numbers and that’s already an advantage. He is playing dirty and you’re not having any of it.

Arriving you burst through the doors and demand to see him. Though the woman behind the front desk tells you that you can’t see him without an appointment, you still get her to make a call up and naturally, Harry allows you to see him. The fucker might already have been waiting for you to show up. As you stand in the all glass elevator, on your way up to meet him you take a few deep breaths to keep your cool and not snap like a maniac, however it all vanishes when you see him waiting for you with that shit-eating grin on his face when you step out of the elevator.

“You’re lucky I didn’t go straight to the police with your little stunt, you fucker!” you snap, not able to hold back your swearing any longer.

“Do you have any evidence?” he tilts his head to the side and you don’t miss how his gaze runs down your body as you march towards him. You’d find it flattering in another situation, but right now you just want to punch him in the face.

“I’ll show some evidence down your throat, Styles, if you don’t stop messing with my security system,” you growl back, standing so close to him now that you see every tiny freckle and blemish on his face and the way how he clenches his jaw, holding his gaze on yours.

Without a word or invitation, you walk into the room that you suppose is his office and he follows with a soft chuckle.

“Did you hire a hacker just to mess with me?” you throw the question at him as he closes the door so his employees don’t hear everything.

“What if I did?” he shrugs, stepping to the tray on his desk that already has a glass of whiskey on it. He grabs the glass and simply lifts it to his lips, taking a tiny sip from it. “Oh, excuse my manners. Would you like a drink?”

“I’m driving,” you answer shortly. “You crossed a line, Harry,” you warn him.

“What line?” he chuckles, rather entertained by your rage. “After what you pulled with Kennedy, I think I went easy on you.”

“I didn’t pull anything, I just gave her a better offer! It’s not my fault she has better chances with my company!” you snap back, feeling your heartbeat fastening from the anger that’s boiling in your veins.

“You knew I wanted her to design for me, why couldn’t you just let one person out of your endless list? You already have everyone else, she was my last fucking chance!” Harry barks back, clearly having some built up tension in him as well.

“If you didn’t act like an arrogant asshole at the charity gala, I would have happily let you work with her, but then you felt the need to fucking degrade me! That’s why I didn’t let you get away with it!”

Harry opens his mouth to answer, but he quickly closes his mouth, probably knowing well you’re right. He did act shitty towards you that evening and he has no excuse for his behavior. You walk closer until there are just a few feet between the two of you, your eyes glued to his burning green gaze that’s staring back at you, but before you could speak up, he cuts you off.

“Well, you know. All is fair in… war and business,” he shrugs and you honestly barely can stop yourself from laughing at how stupid that just sounded. You can’t miss the twitch in the corner of his mouth as well and you can’t believe how easily he made you break out of your rage.

“Don’t try to make money out of writing slogans,” you huff shaking your head and now he is grinning widely. “Do you have the data?”

“I don’t,” he answers and you narrow your eyes at him.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he chuckles. “I had it, but I already deleted it. I know it wasn’t ethical so as soon as it was handed to me I deleted it. I didn’t even look into it. I just wanted to scare you.”

“And how do I know your hacker doesn’t have it either?”

“Because he signed a contract that would cost him millions to break and I don’t think a junior in college who is still living in a dorm can afford that,” he points out and now you are somewhat convinced. You stare back at him for a few more seconds before nodding.

“Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours, how does that sound?” you offer generously.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he questions with a smug smirk that makes your arch an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?” he then asks and you can’t mask your surprise in front of him.

“That does not concern you, Styles,” you scoff, though it boosts your ego that even through all the hate you’ve been targeting at each other, he still wants you the same way he did at the club that evening. You can’t deny, this rivalry has sparked a few thoughts in you as well, but you are not going to fall into the same mistake you made that evening. You pay him another smirk before turning around and heading towards the door. “Stay out of my way, Styles!” you call back without looking at him, but you just know he is grinning at you, a growing sexual tension thickening the atmosphere in the room.

“Or what?” he smugly questions and you stop at the door, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“Or… You said it yourself. All is fair in war and business,” you smirk before walking out of the office.

Following your visit to Harry’s office things take a… playful turn in your rivalry. The attempts and competing don’t stop, both of you are on each other’s radar, ruining and messing with each other’s projects and works whenever and wherever it’s possible, but it’s not as hateful as it was at the beginning. If something, it even helps you to always be on your toes and watch out for possible threats, not just from Harry but from everyone else.

Neither of you succeeds in evolving in each other’s field, Cometa keeps thriving in women’s fashion with a quite small variety offered for the gentlemen while Twisted fails to grow out of men’s fashion and venture to the ladies, but somehow it’s not as frustrating as it used to be before.

Harry keeps up his flirty acts and tries to ask you out every time your paths cross each other, but you relentlessly turn him down every time, only fueling him to keep chasing after you more the next time. It’s a thrilling and flattering little game, knowing that even with all the rivalry between the two of you, being the biggest competitors in the business… he still wants you.

New York fashion week rolls around and it’s by far one of your favorite times in the year. You managed to snatch an exclusive deal with YSL to release a special line just for the fashion week and it sold out in the first two hours, now waiting to be restocked in a few days. Cometa is thriving and your aunt has expressed her pride towards the work you’ve been doing at the company, so things are heading the right direction.

You knew Harry would be attending the same shows as you, but it’s fate or just luck that you are seated next to each other at one of the shows, giving you the chance to talk without any of you attempting to corrupt the other this time.

Harry is already sitting in his seat when you arrive wearing a custom made Gucci dress, something that immediately catches his eyes since he is a huge fan of the brand himself.

“Your fashion sense never disappoints, Y/N,” he beams up at you as you take the seat next to him.

“Hope that’s not surprising, Styles,” You smirk at him, taking a glance at his own Gucci outfit, the checkered pants fitting him perfectly while the pussy bow adds some spice to the whole outfit, you have to admit. He looks good, he always does.

“Any plans after the show?” he asks right before the lights go out and the show starts. You leave him without an answer, just let out a soft chuckle as you glue your eyes to the first model who walks the runway.

Once the show is over you head out with Harry by your side, having an actually entertaining discussion about the designs you just saw. He might not be an expert in fashion, but he has developed a good sense through his years.

As you make your way out of the venue you are stopped by an interviewer and Harry remains on your side as the woman asks you a few questions about the show.

“I’ve always wondered, does it bother you that you couldn’t be on the runway yourself? You’ve been sitting front row the past years, but you once had aspirations of being a model yourself, is that right?”

The question makes you tense up and you can feel Harry’s puzzled look on you from the side.

“It’s not like it was my fault for not making it up there,” you sass back, forcing a smile to your face.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” the woman chuckles and it has your blood boiling, because you know the real meaning behind her words.

It’s your fault you didn’t become a model because you were never thin enough to be one. It was your fault and not the industry’s to hold impossible standards to women who wanted to succeed as a model.

The smile falters from your face and you take a long, judgmental look at the woman in front of you. Because if she is brave enough to talk like that to you, you’re not gonna shy away from bringing her spirits down either.

“Judging from your appearance and attitude you wouldn’t make it either,” you spitefully reply and her smile quickly fades, clearly shocked at your answer. You open your mouth again, ready to continue, but then you feel a hand on the small of your back and you realize Harry is still standing next to you.

“Come on, we have somewhere to be, right?” he smiles kindly as you just simply nod and walk away from the woman before she could offend you again.

Harry senses your tension as the two of you leave the venue but doesn’t try to talk to you and that’s a wise choice from him. As you step out of the building you realize that if you went home now you’d probably get drunk on your own and let that comment get to you more than you should. So instead of doing that you turn to Harry.

“So, what are our plans?” you ask and you don’t miss the small smile on his lips as he stares back at you.

Not in the mood to stay around people at a bar you accept Harry’s invitation to his place, since it’s also close. The contrast between his extravagant penthouse and your cozy but still quite modern townhouse in Park Slope is major, but you didn’t expect anything less from the man.

You’ve managed to calm down since you left the venue, but you’re still quite bitter about the comment the woman made. Harry hasn’t tried to ask you about it, but you can tell he is dying to know more about the situation that’s behind the madness.

He fixes you a drink and you find yourself sinking into his comfortable and probably ridiculously expensive couch in his living room area.

“I used to want to be a model,” you start, breaking the silence that settled between the two of you. “When I was a teen. I was a lot thinner, I was a competitive dancer until I was seventeen, but I had a knee injury, so I had to quit.”

Harry sits on the other end of the couch, listening to you with patience as he sips on his own drink.

“I was never as thin as the other models at the agency I was trying to get into, but I definitely wasn’t overweight. Yet, they labelled me as a plus size model. I was a healthy, strong young girl with a perfectly good body, yet they told me that I was too fat to be a model.”

Glancing at Harry, you can tell that he is surprised at the information he just learned. He is probably picturing you thinner now, going to model castings and if you’re being honest you enjoyed that part. The trouble came when you got rejection after rejection, telling you to lose weight and come back after that.

“I quit my whole plan to be a model and studied fashion and business instead, consciously working my way towards this point. But I never got over how the industry made me feel less of a person because I wasn’t a size zero.”

For a few long moments Harry just stares at you and it’s actually nice that he doesn’t try to make you feel better right away, praising you how you are perfect just the way you are. Because you’re not, but that’s fine because no one is.

“I’ve honestly never seen a more cruel industry than fashion before,” he then speaks up. “I didn’t grow up in it and still don’t really have that much and deep connection with it, but I know how fucked up it is. And it’s nice to see that you know your worth even after everything that happened.”

Your gaze meets his and you’re looking for any sign that gives away that he is just messing with you, but it’s all genuine. You just shoot him a small smile before lifting your drink to your lips. It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared with him, including the ones you had in that bathroom.

“Okay, now you tell me something about your life,” you prompt, wanting to divert the conversation on him a little bit.

“What do you want to know?” he asks with a soft chuckle.

“Why did you name your brand Twisted?” you ask. The question has been on your mind for a while.

“It’s coming from my mum’s name. Anne Twist.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, you weren’t expecting such a deep and personal reason behind the name, connected to a family member.

“Why her?”

“Why not?” he smirks shrugging his shoulders. “She raised me and my sister up, I wouldn’t be here without her. It was obvious I would make her be part of it in some kind of way.”

“That’s actually very nice. Who knew that you could be something other than an egoistic asshole!” you joke, making him laugh as well.

“Okay, what’s the meaning behind your brand?” he then turns it back around.

“Well, my aunt met her husband when they were very young, maybe eighteen. She fell in love with Fabio on her trip to Italy and being the impulsive and adventurous woman that she is, she stayed for a month there just because of Fabio. He is a very passionate man and he was always ready to bring the stars down for Julia. He always used to tell her that he would even catch a comet for her, if that’s what she wanted. And that was my aunt’s favorite saying from him. Cometa is comet in Italian. It’s her tribute to the love of her life.”

“That’s easily the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Harry hums and you just smile nodding at him. It really is like a fairytale and it’s also one of the reasons why you were so happy to take her place at Cometa. Julia is still just as in love with Fabio as she was at eighteen and she deserves to spend more time with her beloved husband. She earned the time off after all the sacrifices she made for the company and all through them Fabio stayed by her side. It’s their well-earned happy ending now.

“You know a lot about romantic things?” you cock an eyebrow at him, finishing up your drink.

“Actually, I’m a quite romantic guy.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah, you just never gave me the chance to show it to you.”

“Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?” you chuckle, handing him your glass when he stands from the couch to get you a refill.

“Exactly!” he chuckles holding up your empty glass on his way. “I hope you know you absolutely broke my heart when you didn’t give me your number that night.”

“Oh, you poor little thing,” you chuckle, resting your head in your palm, your elbow on the back of the couch. “I’m not sorry though. You didn’t give out the right vibes.”

“The right vibes?” he huffs as he returns with your drink and now sits a little closer to you. “What vibe did I give you?” “The vibe that told me I shouldn’t mess with you,” you simply answer as you take a sip from your refilled drink.

“You were so keen on hating me even before you knew who I was, I can’t believe you,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“I’m just cautious!” you protest. “I’ve dealt with some problematic men in the past, I can’t let myself walk right into another one that easily.”

“What did they do?”

“Some men just can’t treat women right. Especially confident ones with a body like mine,” you simply shrug.

Men like to think that bigger girls are so terribly insecure about their body that they need the validation of a male to feel good about themselves. But when you’re confident and feel good in your own skin without needing them to praise you, they think that you’re egoistic, so full of yourself and they are quick to try to drag you down. That’s something you can’t tolerate. You don’t need a man to feel good about yourself, you don’t need anyone for that. You know your worth and that’s all that matters.

Harry’s eyes travel down your body, taking his time on your curves and you smile shaking your head as you reach out and cupping his chin you pull his head up so he is looking into your eyes.

“I honestly can’t see what problem anyone could have with your body. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since our bathroom fiasco,” he bluntly comments making you chuckle, even flattered by his words.

“You are such a flirt,” you grin at him and he doesn’t try to protest.

You stay for a couple more drinks and you drop the heavier topics, venturing over to music, fashion and any funny stories that come to your mind. Harry is actually amazing company when you’re not trying to jump at each other’s throat and for a few short hours you forget that he is supposed to be your competitor.

You’re a little tipsy, but you are definitely not drunk, so when Harry offers you to stay the night you turn it down, calling yourself a car since you are not in the right state to drive.

“I’ll come and pick my car up in the morning,” you breathe out as you put your heels back on that came off your feet sometime during the evening, making yourself home in his place.

“I’ll text you the security number to the garage,” he nods, walking you to the elevator.

“Thank you. And… I guess thank you for the evening,” you smile at him, turning to face him. He is standing close, but still takes a step closer, one of his hands finding your waist as he pulls you against his chest. Your palms lie flat on his chest as you try to get yourself to the right mindset to leave now before you regret doing something. Leaning down his nose nudges against your cheek, before he presses a soft kiss under below your ear, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I should go, the car is here,” you breathe out, but don’t move.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, his lips peppering kisses on your jaw and your cheek, as if you didn’t say a word. You want to continue it, not just because of the alcohol but because the sexual tension between the two of you has been growing since that charity gala, but the remainder of your rationality stops you before your lips could meet.

“Bye Harry,” you smile at him softly as you push him away and you walk into the elevator, leaving him hanging. Again.

“Bye Y/N. I’m still going to try to ruin your company!” he calls after you as you turn around to face him, the sliding doors slowly closing between the two of you.

“Same back at you, Styles,” you smirk before the door closes and you are taken down.

Well, that was a lie. Following your evening at his place neither of you really tries to work against the other, leaving each other be without any fuss. It might also have something to do with how you kept in touch after that day. You’ve been texting occasionally, attending some events together, even had a business dinner together with a few other peers from the industry. Things have been quiet and you’ve been feeling content with the current state you’ve managed to reach. Or so you thought.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you. You both put your projects aside that targeted the other’s profile. Harry stopped looking for designers for his women lines and you put your men department to the side as well. There were a lot to work on beside these fields so you felt like you were in peace. Right until Leslie bursts into your office on a casual Tuesday.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, placing a tablet in front of you with an Instagram account open on it.

You want to ask what you’re supposed to look at, but then you realize what it really is. A shiny new account for a new brand that promises to take online shopping to the next level; female and male as well.

“You think it could be…?” you ask, not quite convinced that Harry is behind this.

“Well, the wording is similar to theirs and creating a new brand might be a solution to their gap in women’s fashion,” she points it out, though you don’t want to believe he could have been working on this all along, basically in front of your face.

But it’s a possibility and you have to consider this option before jumping into defending him without any proof.

“Men can’t be trusted,” you grumble under your breath before jumping into work.

What you didn’t know is that an eerily similar situation goes down in Harry’s office as well when Zayn bursts in, showing him the ad he found for the new brand called Farfalla.

Harry immediately digs up everything about the company, though there’s not much other than their new Instagram account and heavy marketing that started just yesterday.

“What is Farfalla even?” he grimaces leaning back in his chair.

“It means butterfly in Italian,” Zayn explains and Harry’s eyes flicker up to him.

“Italian? You think it’s her?”

“It’s possible,” Zayn nods. “Starting a new brand to finally reach men’s fashion is a good idea.”

“She wouldn’t have done this,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief. Could you be working on this all along? Was this your plan from the start? To make him fall for you and forget about business while you built up your new empire to ruin him?

“What if she did?” Zayn prompts and in a way his suspicion is valid, but Harry is having a hard time believing it. You would never play him this dirty, not after how the two of you have grown closer in the past weeks, almost became friends.

“What are you going to do?” Zayn asks him as he pushes himself away from the desk and quite obviously starts getting ready to leave.

“She is not getting away from this,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he grabs his coat and phone before storming out of the office.

It’s past six when Harry gets to Cometa’s building and he is informed that you’ve already went home. He could have just come back in the morning, but he knew he would just stew in his own anger if he didn’t talk to you as soon as possible. So using his charm he gets the woman sitting behind the front desk to share your address with him, saying that he needs to talk to you urgently. That’s how he finds himself heading to Park Slope, slightly surprised you are not living somewhere in the heart of Manhattan.

As the scenery around his changes, skyscrapers turning into brick buildings and townhouses, Harry tries to figure out what he even wants to say to you. Should he just get straight down to business and accuse you? Snap at you? Or should he give you the chance to explain yourself? He can’t really make up his mind, mostly because he still feels like you betrayed him even though he can’t be sure Farfalla is yours.

Parking down at the address he got from the woman, he stares up at the deep red brick townhouse, a simple, black door at the top of the stairs that’s lined with a few potted plants and flowers. This is not what he would have imagined your home like, but now that he is standing on your doormat, he realizes it kind of suits you.

Ringing the bell he hopes that you’re home and not out and about somewhere in the city, but when he hears the familiar sound of heels clicking on the floor he knows you are on the other side. When the front door flings open and you come into his sight, for a split second he forgets why he is here and his anger vanishes. As always, you look amazing, a tight, black dress hugging your curves, the middle part appearing like it’s a corset, emphasizing the dip of your waist. Your hair is let down in loose curls and your feet are bare, but he knows you probably wore heels all day. You must have gotten home not long ago and as your eyes fall on the man at the door, your expression hardens on him.

“You really had the balls to come her, huh?” you cock your head to the side, keeping your eyes on his green ones for a moment before you let him inside.

“Did you think you could get away with it?” he huffs walking into the hallway and stopping as you close the door and turn to him.

“Me? I could say the same! You thought I would just ignore it or what? I proved you a few times that I’m not stupid, Harry,” you retort, folding your arms on your chest as you walk past him, into the kitchen and he follows.

“You surely are not stupid, playing me so dirty behind my back!” Harry spats standing his ground. “Playing all friendly and nice and then make a fool out of me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you question narrowing your eyes at him as you lean against the kitchen island’s counter. “If anyone played dirty it’s you! And you have the balls to come here and talk like this to me in my own fucking home?!” you snap, walking closer to him, keeping your deathly glare on him.

“What the fuck did I do?!” he scoffs throwing his hands into the air.

“You created a whole new brand just to fuck with me! Or did you think I wouldn’t find out about it?!”

“Me? You made a new brand! And you didn’t do a great job hiding the fact that it was your work, even the name is Italian, like your current one!”

You stare back at him, tilting your head to the side as you process what he is talking about. All along, the two of you were accusing each other of something neither of you did.

“Harry,” you breathe out, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Farfalla is not my brand.”

“And I’m supposed to believe it?!”

“Well you better be because it’s the fucking truth!”

“Prove it!” he hisses at you, taking a step closer, his face only inches away from yours now.

“Until about twenty seconds ago I thought that it was your new brand, Harry. I thought that you were the one who backstabbed me!” you snap back, standing up for yourself in this giant misunderstanding you fell into, accusing each other without any proof.

Harry stares back at you, his gaze burning into yours as he stands his ground and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he processes your words.

“So… it’s not yours? You didn’t do it to fuck me up?”

“Of course not!” you breathe out, suddenly quite tired of all the anger that’s been eating you away through the afternoon. “I thought that we had a kind of silent agreement not to mess with each other so I wasn’t planning anything anytime soon. That’s why I got so mad when I thought you did it!”

“I thought the same!” he growls shaking his head. “I thought you did it all to just make me look stupid, that the friendly act was just so I wouldn’t notice a thing and I fell right into your trap.”

“There was no trap,” you simply tell him and you hope he senses the hidden meaning behind your words.

Luckily he does. But for your biggest surprise there’s no snarky comment or smug smirking, he just steps closer and before you could even protest, his hands find your waist and he pulls you against his hard chest, lips hungry attacking yours. He makes you back until you bump against the kitchen island, his hips pressing against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface, his hands wandering on your sides and back, up and down, exploring every curve of your body while his kisses never slow down, your tongues meeting in the middle.

Bringing up a leg you curl it around his hips, your heel digging into his round ass as he leans forward, making you arch your back, leaning onto the counter as his lips move from your lips to your jawline and neck, his fingers digging into your waist and the thigh that’s lifted by his side. He nibbles on the soft skin of your neck, definitely leaving a mark, but you just comb your fingers through his hair, letting yourself get lost in the sensation.

“As much as I would love to fuck you on a counter again, can we take this to a bedroom?” he mumbles as he kisses his way back up to your lips, smirking against them as he captures them again.

You don’t answer, just grab his hand and pull him upstairs with you, right into your bedroom. He is all over you, lips, hands, tongue, pressed up against you as the two of you stumble your way to your king sized bed. Harry’s fingers fidget with the corset on your dress, but he soon realizes it’s a little trickier than he expected, so leaning back he furrows his eyebrows as he glances down at the dress, still trying to figure out how to get you out of it.

“Harry,” you smile at him softly. “It’s faux. There’s a zipper at the back,” you inform him and he sighs in defeat as he kisses you again, his fingers quickly finding the zipper. The dress pools at your feet and you rid him from his jacket and shirt, revealing his inked chest, a sight you’ve been thinking about way too much lately.

By the time the two of you fall to your bed, neither of you are dressed in more than just your underwear. Because both of you like to be in charge, you roll around for a while, trying to get on top of each other but eventually Harry stays up when he starts going down on you, kissing his way through your heated skin. You don’t shy away when his hands snake under your back and easily unclasps your bra, being bare in front of him is not something that makes you feel uncomfortable or insecure. The way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel brings you so much confidence, you have absolutely no problem being nude.

When your bra flies to the floor, Harry leans back a little to admire you lying there, before his lips find their way over the curve of your breasts, down your stomach. Hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties he tugs them down easily as you lift your hips, your thighs parting as you bare yourself in front of him.

“Don’t be shy about screaming my name,” he smugly tells you before his lips and tongue meet your clit. Your fingers lace through his hair immediately as you gasp out at the sensation, his tongue drawing the whole fucking alphabet to your bundle of nerves. His arms curl around your thighs, ring clad fingers digging into your flesh as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Harry! Yes!” you moan out, tugging on his locks when he teases his tongue around your hole, your walls tightening around nothing as you are growing desperate to feel something inside of you.

You pull on his hair, signaling him that you want to get it on with, Hands reaching down to get rid of his boxer briefs before you blindly pull out the drawer of your nightstand, grabbing a condom. His lips eagerly meet yours as he wraps his erected cock and though you would love to have a taste of him like he did with you, you just want to feel him inside you.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he growls against your lips, teasing you with running just the head up and down your slit.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna rip your guts out,” you warn him, earning a soft chuckle as he kisses you again, tongue pushing into your mouth as he finally pushes inside you, his long, thick cock filling you up perfectly and it somehow feels even better than the first time.

“Go hard,” you gasp, a hand coming to grab his ass as you push him even further into you. He doesn’t need more, he starts slamming into you, his hips meeting yours roughly with each thrust, his whole length disappearing inside you every time.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking on the soft skin. You almost think about telling him not to mark you, but it just turns you on even more so you let him do whatever he wants.

“I want to see you on top,” he pants, lifting his head so his gaze could meet yours. You nod, before the two of you turn around and you straddle his hips, guiding him back inside you as you sink down his length. Your hands are sprawled out on his hard chest as you find your balance in the position, Harry’s eyes roaming your body up and down, not able to get enough of how blissful you look, sitting with his cock buried inside of you, enjoying yourself to the fullest. His hands run up your thighs and upper body until they find your breasts, kneading them as you start moving your hips up and down, back and forth. When you moan his name or gasp because his cock reaches that one particular spot inside you, those are the moments he wishes he could capture on camera and watch whenever he wants.

“I want it from back,” you pant as you lean down and kiss him roughly. That’s all he needs, he helps you get off of him before you get on all four, pushing your butt up in the air while Harry kneels behind you, the sight in front of him hardening his cock even more, if that’s possible. His hands grab onto your waist as he pushes inside you, making you both let out a satisfied moan before he starts moving again.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, Y/N. I love your ass,” he growls, giving it a smack that surprises you, but you absolutely love it.

“Harry, go faster!” you whimper, feeling your orgasm nearing as you grip the comforter on the bed, desperate to reach your climax. You’re just about to reach down between your legs to play with your clit when Harry not only picks his pace up but also reaches around you, two of his fingers starting the circling motions on the bundle of nerves, making your legs shake from the pleasure.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum all over my cock,” he growls, railing you from behind without missing a beat.

“Harry!” you scream when he thrusts into you so harshly, your whole body rocking in the motion.

“Come on, angel. Cum for me,” he murmurs and leaning down he wraps his arms around you, bringing you up straight, your back pressing against his sweaty chest, his hands coming to cup your breasts as he keeps thrusting up into you, pushing you over the edge.

You moan and gasp and scream his name as your walls tighten around his length, riding out your bliss and it helps him reach his own high, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck and shoulder, grunting and cursing under his breath as he fills the condom.

As his thrusts come to a halt, he sinks into a sitting position, bringing you with him, you lean against him feeling like jelly as you’re still just trying to catch your breath. Harry peppers your shoulder with small kisses before you muster the energy to break the position and lie down on the bed.

“Towel is in the bathroom,” you tell him knowing that’s what he’ll look for as he stands from the bed and you point at the door that leads to the joined bathroom. Harry nods and pads his way in there, cleaning himself up before he returns with a small damp towel, doing the same for you. He drops it to the floor next to the bed before joining you, cradling you into his arms as you take a breather together.

One hand is on your shoulder, fingers dancing on the naked skin, the other one is holding your thigh that’s across his lap while your head is resting on his chest.

“You really thought I would backstab you like that?” he hums after a while, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You did the same,” you answer, lifting your head, resting your chin on his chest.

“Touché,” he chuckles, before leaning down he kisses you shortly. “So, if neither of us did it, then we have a quite major problem on our hands.”

“I know,” you hum. “That shit looks promising and they can easily ruin both of us.”

Harry stays silent for a little, but you can see the gears turning in his head. When his gaze snaps back at you, you know he has an idea.

“Unless… we join forces.” Your eyebrows arch as you stare back at him. “I know it’s a risky move, but this is the only way to stay on the top.”

“How much you want to be joined?”

“We could start with just one line, the men part designed by someone from me and the women by someone from you. And if it presents well we can just figure out where to go from there. Obviously, the men part would be sold by us and the women by you, but we could join the pages and direct users to each other’s sites in connection with the lines.”

“That could… actually work,” you nod shortly, thinking about the idea. It needs a lot of planning, but it could actually be a big hit if you do it right. “And you’re willing to partner with me?” you ask cheekily as you push yourself up into a sitting position, Harry doing the same.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m willing to do about anything with you,” he chuckles, making you smile at his playful answer. “I hope you know I’m not talking about just business,” he then adds with a meaningful look.

“You are still so keen on this?” you sigh, tugging your hair behind your ear.

“Do you not like being with me?”

“I do, surprisingly,” you roll your eyes, making him laugh.

“Do you not like having sex with me?”

“I think the answer is pretty obvious to that,” you give him a look as he smirks back at you.

“Yeah, but I want to hear it.”

“I enjoy having sex with you, Harry,” you roll your eyes again, but he just kisses you short but hard before leaning back.

“So then why shouldn’t we date?”

“Because we are competitors?”

“We just agreed that we should join forces. We are partners now.”

“You are running a little ahead, Harry,” you cock an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, I haven’t been in a relationship in ages. I probably suck at it at this point,” you shrug, but it’s just a lame excuse and you both know that. Leaning closer Harry smirks at you smugly.

“I have something else you can suck.” You smack his chest at his nasty remark, but can’t push a smile back. His hand finds the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss. “I want you, Y/N. I really do. You are all I think about even when you are an annoying piece of shit, getting under my skin. I still want you.”

“Wow, so romantic,” you chuckle shaking your head. “What if we can’t get over our differences in the business? That can easily poison any relationship.”

“Then we’ll have a lot of mind-blowing angry and makeup sex. Those are the best. We can put all our frustration into sex, I think that’s just perfect.”

“What are you, a horny teenager? Sex is all you can think about?” you chuckle.

“It is when I’m lying in a bed with you naked. You can’t blame me,” he grins smugly and you want to hate him, you want to hate him so badly, but you can’t. You want him just as much as he wants you.

“So… partners?” he prompts, tilting his head to the side with a sweet smile as he waits for your answer.

“Partners in business and life?”

“Mhm, that’s the plan,” he nods, his smile growing wider with each passing second.

“Alright,” you breathe out. “So… it’s not—All is fair in war and business?” you ask teasingly, using his own words from earlier.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[keanureevesisbae]

Ever After Boutique - chapter 10

Summary: Frankee regrets her decision.

CEO!Henry Cavill x Frankee Newhouse

Wordcount: 1.6k

Warnings: some mentions of flashing and groping. Some nakedness

Masterlist // Ever After Boutique Masterlist // Previous chapter

The work is fucking terrible. I have never hated a workplace this much. The fact I’m being groped on a daily basis by perverted old men, have one co-worker who is moronic and doesn’t understand a single thing I tell him and that combined with the fact customers are dirty assholes as well thinking I'm the one for sale, makes me realize mister Burke is a sleazy old man. I fear that if I were to work here a day longer, he might flashes his dick. He seems like the type of pervert to do that and not taking any chances, I decide to quit.

After four agonizing weeks.

And I realize I only took this job to never ever face Henry again, but in all honesty, I loved working there. Ever After Boutique was the family I o so miss right now.

After I mindlessly strolled through New York City for a while, I somehow end in front of Ever After Boutique. I could do it… I have been texting the girls every once in a while, of course never telling them about the dumpster fire I worked at. No, according to the texts, working as an assistant manager was amazing.

I push open the door, only to discover it’s pretty in the boutique. The girls are working their asses off, running around to make sure the customers are being helped, but Vivvi and Chrissy drop their boxes and rush over to me once they see me.

‘Oh my, we missed you so much,’ Chrissy says, clinging onto me.

‘You look so tired,’ Vivvi says. ‘Have you been eating well?’

I missed them so much. Vivvi’s comment and Chrissy’s hug almost make me tear up. ‘I’m fine. You just seem so busy here, I’ll come back later.’

Right before they can say something along the lines of that I need to stay, Leona exits the backroom and smiles widely when she sees me. ‘Newhouse, with me,’ she says. ‘Chrissy, Vivvi, make sure the boxes are unpacked, there is someone behind the counter and the dressing rooms are clean.’

‘Done!’ The two of them spread out over the store and I walk over to Leona.

‘I was just wondering how you guys were, but you’re busy,’ I say. ‘I don’t want to slow you down.’

‘We are indeed very busy,’ Leona says, ‘and that’s why we need you. No one can fold clothes as fast as you can. Come on, with me.’ Like I’m some sort of puppy, I walk behind her and like that, we are secluded from the hectic back in the boutique. ‘The job isn’t treating you well,’ she says. ‘You look drained.’

‘Mhm.’

‘I know why you took that job,’ she then says.

That takes me by surprise. ‘What?’

‘I saw it coming, with the way you and Henry were. Normally, he’d fire someone like you in a heartbeat, however you stuck around way too long, a clear sign he was pretty into you. Fold that.’

As I’m folding the pile of clothes, Leona continues.

‘You taking another job, seemed weird, especially because Henry had been telling me about expanding the place. Opening another location, or literally expanding this place, by buying the floor above, so we could sell men and children’s clothes. He told me he wanted to make you assistant manager if not manager, because you could handle it. But then he didn’t show up anymore and on your last day here, I saw you two kissing near his car.’

Oh my gosh…

‘So when you were gone, I confronted him and he kinda spilled the beans on what happened. The stuff you did here—I heard you and him both deep cleaned the place, for which I’m forever grateful—the day after that, when you made him open up and how that all scared him.’

My cheeks are burning up, because my boss knows I had sex with the bigger boss in this particular room. I clear my throat. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why?’ Leona asks. ‘For falling in love? Honey, it’s okay.’

‘No, I’m sorry for quitting.’ I stop folding the pieces, as I look to the side to Leona. ‘I shouldn’t have taken the other job. The place I worked at fucking stunk. It was terrible. I should’ve been more mature and confronted my problems, not go out of my way to avoid dealing with them.’

Leona sighs. ‘It was that bad there?’

‘Bad isn’t even enough to describe it. When I call it horrendous, it’s an understatement. I even quit today.’

She nods. ‘Well, normally I’d say that once you quit, you quit forever, but I can see this choice of yours was made purely out of fear and slight ignorance. Besides, you are the best employee we’ve ever had here.’

Oh dear… ‘Is this what I think it is?’ I ask, slightly hopeful.

‘You want your job back?’ Leona asks with a smile. ‘The offer stands for the next minute.’

The easiest choice I have ever made. ‘Of course, of course! I’ll take it,’ I say.

‘On one condition.’

‘Anything!’

‘After you finished here, you go talk to Henry. Clear the air.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Godfrey was happy to see me, because he hugged me tightly when he saw me on the doorstep, however I’m not too sure if Henry is gonna share that same enthusiasm as his butler. I end up in the private pool and I hate the fact Henry has this, including a sauna, inside his house. How on earth did he think he was the loser of the family? In my family, he would be considered the absolute champ.

I see him swimming a lap and I walk towards the edge of the pool. His back is strong, I can see every muscle as he swims. Gosh, this man. He stops near the same edge I’m standing at and he looks up. ‘Miss Newhouse,’ he says, not fazed at all, which either means Leona called him to tell him about me going here or he just does an excellent job hiding it. Weirdly enough, I suspect it's the latter. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Telling you I quit my other job and I’m working at Ever After again.’

He gets out of the pool and I try not to get distracted by the fact Henry is shirtless, wearing some pretty tight trunks. ‘I see,’ he says. ‘Eyes up here, miss.’

Oh dear, I am totally staring, which is rude and incredibly perverted. Maybe I should’ve stayed at the other boutique. Would fit right in.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘For what?’

‘For staring, for leaving, for not talking to you like a real mature woman would do. I am so terribly sorry, Henry. The real reason I left was because I was scared. Scared you didn’t want me anymore. Scared of facing you and… Despite the fact I mostly throw sarcasm and some borderline mean stuff towards you and vice versa, I realized that not seeing you wasn’t an option anymore.’

Henry sighs deeply, before he makes eye contact with me. ‘Join me in the sauna,’ he says. ‘We’ll talk there.’

Okay, that’s a good sign. I think? I watch him walk towards the sauna and as he opens the door, like the real tease he is, he steps out of his trunks right before he gets in. I’m almost one hundred percent sure this is a positive sign.

I strip out of my clothes, neatly folding them up, before I walk towards the sauna. I open the door and I spot him on the wooden bench, taking a whole lot of space. I close the door behind me, leaning against it. ‘Are we good?’ I ask him.

He nods. ‘More than good,’ he says. ‘I’m so sorry for not being mature enough to face you,’ he says. It’s soft, almost like he doesn’t want me to hear it. ‘I shouldn’t have avoided you like I did. After I told you about the things I haven’t thought about in years, I felt this vulnerability. I felt exposed. Facing you meant facing the stuff from my past.’

‘I understand.’

‘So for that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for every shitty thing I have done to you.’

I bite my bottom lip, walking over to him. I stand in between his thick legs, placing my hands on his shoulders. ‘I am sorry for leaving and all the other shitty things I have done to you, because I know it’s quite a lot.’

He chuckles and it even reaches his eyes, making him look a lot less like crap. ‘Yeah, that’s true. For starters, you hitting me with your umbrella.’

‘I apologized for that,’ I exclaim. ‘Over and over again. You on the other hand have never apologized for stealing my cab.’ When I see him laughing, his shoulders shaking as he leans his head back against the wall, I let out a snicker too. ‘So, we’re all good?’

‘We’re good,’ he confirms. ‘Just promise me you’re not gonna leave Ever After again. Don’t know if I can handle that.’

‘I promise, as long as you promise to not shut me out again.’

‘Promise.’

‘And a little birdie told me you were thinking about expanding the boutique and make me assistant manager. Just so you already know, I’d love that job, so please don’t hesitate to offer me that job.’

‘Leona…’ he groans. ‘She seriously told you that?’

‘Yes, but please, don’t feel obligated to offer me right now. I was just joking.’

He smiles. ‘Come on, sit,’ he says, his tone soft and deep.

I straddle his thighs and wrap my arms securely around his shoulders.

‘What’s going on inside your pretty head?’

‘Nothing,’ I whisper. ‘Just that I missed you a whole lot. That’s all.’

‘I missed you too,’ he admits. ‘You got anywhere to be at tomorrow?’

I shake my head. ‘No, I start on Monday again. Why?’

Henry squeezes my bottom. ‘Because you know… You misbehaved.’

‘You’re gonna regret that,’ I chuckle, so not meaning it, because with the way my heart rate is going, I am already waiting for what comes next.

He smiles, before he kisses my lips. ‘I don’t think I will.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Ever After Boutique taglist: @diegos-butt // @thelastsock // @crazybutconfidentaf // @chaiwithchrisevans // @nothingbettertosay81 // @funfickgirl22 // @oddsnendsfanfics // @omgkatinka // @myloveforhenrycavill // @lyrarodriguez // @enchantedbytomandhenry // @a-little-counter-esperanto // @liecastillo // @sofiebstar // @sunshine96love // @abschaffer2 // @greensleeves888 // @thereisa8ella // @islacharlotte // @toomanystoriessolittletime // @needmorereading // @aami98 // @pterodactylterrace // @summersong69 // @gearhead66

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

part iii

cw: brief, non-graphic mention of injury and medical assistance

~

September

Only blue talk and love

Remember

How we knew love was here to stay

Summer hadn’t truly felt over until Remus saw Regulus standing in the airport, bags checked for New York and backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Well,” Regulus said, shifting a little between his feet. “Here goes.”

Remus laughed. “It’s going to be amazing, Reg.”

“Maybe. Hopefully.”

“It will,” Sirius said. “But if you need anything we’re…what? A four hour drive?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, you can call.”

Regulus huffed out a laugh. “You two sound like worried parents.”

Sirius laughed, too. “I’m just glad we know what those sound like now.”

Regulus’ expression shifted, tightening. He nodded, seemed to hang in hesitation for a moment, and then walked forward two steps and threw his arms around Sirius. Sirius froze, too, with his hands in his pockets, and then wrapped his little brother up tight.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Remus heard Regulus murmur softly. “I don’t really think you left me there. With them.”

Sirius made an indistinguishable sound, and Remus took a step back, giving them space and not sure if he was fighting tears or a smile. He used to just think about how he could kill Sirius and Regulus’ parents if he had the chance, but now, seeing how far the brothers had come, he wasn’t sure they were worth the time at all.

“Come home sometimes, okay?” Sirius said. “D’accord?”

“Ouais,” Regulus said.

They pulled apart slowly, both a little bright-eyed. Sirius laughed wetly, wiping his face.

“And make good friends.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s supposed to be good choices.”

Sirius reached out for Remus’ hand. “Good friends are good choices.”

“Ah,” Regulus hitched his pack farther up his shoulder. “Of course.”

“Call when you get there, too,” Remus cut in. “My mom would definitely want me to say that.”

Regulus waved them off. “Okay, that’s enough parenting. I’m going now.”

Sirius held Remus’ hand tight as they watched Regulus go through security and then disappear with a wave, sliding his headphones on. He let out a long, unsteady breath.

“Merde.”

“Love ya,” Remus smiled, reaching up to wipe a tear from Sirius’ cheek.

Sirius glanced down at him. “He’s going to be fine.”

“He is,” Remus nodded.

“He forgives me.”

“No,” Remus said. “He told you that you never did anything wrong.”

Sirius let out another tearful laugh, sniffing. “Right. You’re right.”

Remus pushed up on his toes to kiss his cheek. “Wanna get dinner?”

“Ouais. That sounds perfect.”

They wandered the summer soft streets, cooled by the evening and by approaching September. Remus was torn between being ready to let summer go, and never wanting it to end at the same time.

~

It’s good to hear a packed Hogwarts Stadium again, huh, Dean? Even if just for a preseason game against our New York Rangers neighbors.

Right, Lee? I love this post-summer feeling, and I know our Lions do, too. Especially excited to see what our new talent has to offer. This’ll be fan’s first glimpse at Lupin and Reyes, our two…well, I suppose rookie wouldn’t be quite as perfect a word for Lupin as it is for Reyes. We’re used to Lupin’s face around here, huh.

That we are. Not used to seeing what is rumored to be some very quick feet on him, though. As far as testing went, that is.

Right, the bike test. As well as strength. Who knows. This could be building up to a very interesting season.

Remus stared up at the TV mounted on the wall as he peddled slowly on the stationary bike, keeping his legs warm. He felt bizarre, and had been dodging any type of media to avoid having to talk about it. He was dreading post-game. Every time he tried to think of something to say, his mind went blank.

I’m happy to be here.

I never thought I would be here.

The other half of his brain was trying to compute that it wouldn’t just be the preseason, practice scrimmages he was used to. It wouldn’t just been his team, his friends, out there. Not that it would be a full fledged game, either. No one looked to crushing blows during a preseason game. It was about getting warm. Remus was thankful for it. He didn’t know how he was going to feel when he put his jersey on. When he stepped out onto the ice. He had been nervous enough for the fitness testing.

“You’re literally the fastest guy here,” Finn had said after he’d gotten off of the bike—with the highest score. It had made him feel better, but he knew he wouldn’t really be settled until until coach called his name from the line card.

“Loops,” Logan said, swinging onto the bike beside him. “I keep running into you.”

Remus smiled. “Looks like we having similar warm-up routines.”

“Apparemment,” Logan nodded, turning up the resistance. “Nervous?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

Logan nodded, but stayed quiet and Remus was thankful. Everyone tried to talk him out of it, Sirius included, and he loved them for that, but at the same time, this was nice, too.

“Me too, sort of,” Logan said, and they traded a smile before looking back up at the Gryffindor pre-game show.

“All right,” Coach Arthur Weasley clapped his hands and gestured to the side of the room where the assistant coaches and staff were standing. The whole locker room was flooded with energy of all kinds—nervous, excited—and it flowed through those not in uniform, too. “We all know Moody. We all know our coaches. Mason, Alexandra, and Dan. We all know our PTs—should I say new PTs—“ there were some laughs. “Lars and Layla.”

“Double-Ls,” Thomas whooped.

Layla gave two thumbs up, and Lars remained stoic, arms crossed. He hadn’t said much since arriving aside from the occasional wise-cracking joke delivered without a trace of a smile.

“Who’s captain serious now, eh?” Thomas leaned in to whisper, and Remus suppressed a smile, glancing at Sirius—who was wearing an almost equally focused expression on his face, completely still where he sat a few stalls down, past Thomas and James. Remus glanced around the locker room, down the crescent-shaped row. Kasey and Leo, on opposite ends, were both geared up. Finn and Leo were sharing AirPods. Remus knew Kasey had worked hard over the summer, rehabbing his thigh, strengthening and increasing flexibility. He knew Leo was happy to be his back-up, but part of him wondered what Leo thought about all the games he had played in the play-offs, only to be placed right back on the bench now. It happened to a lot of guys—some were called up for injury, only to be sent right back down to the farm team when injuries healed. But Remus thought it was different for goalies. He hoped Coach wouldn’t leave Leo sitting on the bench for too long.

“Who’s calling first line?” Coach asked, and held the card out to Sirius. “Cap?”

Remus didn’t realize until the cheers broke out that he could be loud with the rest of them, and gave his stall a few bangs as Sirius rose, hat keeping his hair back. His eyes found Remus’ briefly once had turned towards them with the card, and Remus’ breath caught at his beaming grin.

“Okay, boys, first line,” Sirius said. “We’ve got Pots.”

Clap.

“Tremzy.”

Thomas drum-rolled his stall.

Sirius smiled. “Myself.”

Finn put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

“And on D, Olli and Timmy.”

While the boys burst into chatter again, Remus watched Sirius hand the card back to Coach, and caught his eye again, raising an eyebrow. Sirius held up Thomas’ number, and Jackson’s. Remus nodded to himself. That could be the third or fourth line, and he’d played well with both of them in scrimmages. It made sense. He could work with that.

And it meant he’d get to watch Sirius out there. At least that wouldn’t change.

“All right,” Coach laughed, putting his glasses back on and turning towards the other coaches. “Get dressed, get dressed.”

Remus had sat in his stall quite a few times by now. For his promo-pictures at the beginning of the summer—the first time he had slipped his jersey on, too, right over his suit and tie. But sitting in it now, strapping his pads over his bare chest before a game, a game where he would be up against other NHL players…that was different.

“You’re one of those?” Thomas snorted, flicking Remus’ bare ribs. “Doesn’t the velcro scratch?”

Remus laughed. “Can’t break old habits.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Or is now the perfect time to make new ones.”

“Not after a year like the last,” Remus said.

“Oh,” Thomas whistled, yanking the laces of his skates tight. “You’re that superstitious.”

“I try not to be,” Remus stood. “But playing again…seems to bring it out in me.”

Remus turned to step into his pants, adjusting the pads and his jock until everything fit together comfortably. He eyed his jersey, the number six hanging proudly on a hanger, and he smiled to himself but turned to his skates next. The jersey sent his heart leaping into his throat. He’d save it for last.

“Let’s go boys,” Pascal called, standing by the door to bump fists and pat helmets on their way out.

Remus laced up his skates, pulling them tight over his taped up socks, and then, finally, removed his jersey from its hook. He didn’t waste time staring down at it. That would just make him overthink and, hopefully, he’d have many times to put this jersey on again.

It slid over his shoulder pads, he tucked in the back, and grabbed his helmet.

“I like that Loops is just over there grinning to himself,” Finn snorted as he left for the tunnel.

Remus shrugged, eyes finding Sirius. He already looked like his mind was on the ice, even for such a low stakes game.

“You know,” Remus said as the team started to file down the tunnel. “I used to go last.”

Sirius’ intense eyes lightened into a softer gray. He shifted from one skate to another. “Oh? I don’t know if I knew that.”

Remus tilted his head, smile playing at one corner of his mouth. “Well? What are we gonna do?”

Sirius just stared at him. “I… I go last.”

Remus let out his laughter, leaning up to tap their helmets together. He vaguely heard a camera flash go off, and smiled. He wanted that picture.

“You should have seen your face, baby,” he whispered, and grabbed his stick from the rack before catching up to James.

He heard Sirius splutter out a laugh—and there was definitely some relief in there—and follow.

The sounds of the crowd in Hogwarts stadium only grew louder. Remus could feel Sirius close behind him.

“Ready, mon loup?” he asked quietly, just before the tunnel opened up to the lights.

Remus didn’t know if Sirius heard his yes over the roar of the team’s entry into a sea of red and gold, but then feet were on the ice he was doing a lap, the Rangers at the other end.

On opening night, Remus knew he would be taking this lap alone, along with Cole. A rookie’s first official NHL game. It felt surreal to think about. He couldn’t knock the feeling that he was too old for that—but he knew plenty of guys did it at his age. You didn’t have to be eighteen.

He picked up a puck and headed towards the goal, trying to decide if it would help to block out the noise, or let it overtake him. The boys were dialed in. Remus glanced over at Sirius, feeling strangely bare without him by his side. But he was over by center ice, tracing the Lion printed there—as usual. Remus didn’t want to seem favored. He didn’t want to seem clingy. They weren’t a couple out here, he knew that. They were teammates.

He shot at Kasey, who caught his puck in his glove, and began the wrap-around again before pushing backwards around the outside of the goal, as he always used to. He’d done his routine a few times at the beginning of practices, but it was nothing compared to being surrounded by a crowd—a bigger crowd than he’d ever actually played in front of before.

Kasey tapped a puck at him once he reached his first post, and he laughed, shooting it back until a sign waving at the glass caught his eye. It was held by a kid, maybe around Julian’s age.

I want a signed stick the ReMOST, Lupin!

Remus laughed at the kid’s wide eyes when he saw that he was looking, and gave him a thumbs up the best he could with his gloves on before holding up his stick.

“One second,” he called over the crowd.

When he got to the bench, Sirius was there stretching, holding out an already uncapped sharpie.

And looks like Lupin’s heading over to sign that young man a stick. I bet that’s a good feeling after—oh! Black’s got a pen ready for him.

Remus shoved a glove under his arm and took it. “You saw the sign?”

“I got the kid down to the glass,” Sirius grinned.

“I love you,” Remus said as he scribbled his signature, complete with the jersey number that players always included.

It took two tries to get the stick successfully over the glass, but for the look on the boy’s face, Remus would have tried twenty.

“Feels good, eh?” James said once the horn blew for warmups and they were settled onto the bench.

“Too good,” Remus said.

“First line,” Coach called, slapping his calling card against his palm. “12, 10, 7, let’s go. Olli, Tims, on D.”

Sirius sent him a quick smile, and Remus spun his stick in front of him. “Let’s go, Captain.”

Sirius snorted, rolling his eyes as he pushed away from the boards towards center ice, where Zibanejad was waiting.

Good to see that sort of…what would you call it, Dean, from Black?

Light energy, I think, Lee. Sirius is well known around the league for his intensity.

Right. Nice to see Lupin getting a smile out of him before what is most probably a season that holds more pressure than usual for the Lions, after a Cup year.

One of Black’s coaches once said in an interview that the only thing Sirius feels after scoring a goal is pressure to score another. Ha, sounds about right.

Remus all but held his breath when the ref dropped the puck. Sirius stole it back for James who nicked it over to Logan. Logan sped it into the neutral zone, narrowly avoiding Lafrenière.

“Bulky kid,” Finn said from beside Remus.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Logan?”

“Well—yeah, but nah, Lafrenière,” Finn nodded. “Built like a tree, what is he, nineteen? Crazy. I didn’t look like that when I was nineteen.”

“Well,” Remus said as the whistle blew for an icing on the Rangers. “People are comparing him to Crosby.”

“Kuny,” Coach called. “Lupin, Nado.”

Remus’ initial thought was surprise. The shock of being put out with the second line carried him somewhat numbly over the boards beside Evgeni and Jackson. He didn’t have time to look at Sirius take his place on the bench.

“Hey,” Evgeni said, drawing them in with a glove over his mouth so the Rangers filing out of their bench couldn’t read their lips. “I take Lindgren. Loops, go fast, okay? Nado get you puck.”

“Fox,” Jackson warned.

“Sergei take care,” Evgeni said like it was obvious, and loomed towards the face-off circle.

“Left side,” Remus said to Jackson before they parted. “I’ll try to shake Kravtsov.”

“Nice,” Jackson nodded.

Remus and Kravtsov shared a nod as they lined up shoulder to shoulder on the centerline.

“Welcome to the NHL,” Kravtsov said with a slight smile.

“Thanks,” Remus replied.

Kravtsov was so young. All of these guys were so young.

He couldn’t help feeling like time had been stolen from him.

Have you ever seen this many Russian players in one NHL game, Dean? Pretty nice to see. And here’s Lupin’s first shift. Let’s go.

The puck dropped and Remus gave Kravtsov a shove, spinning out and around him. His heart seemed to press the sound out of his ears until all he could hear was his own breathing. Evgeni won the face off.

“Kuns!” Jackson shouted, and Evgeni passed it to him deep in their own zone. It drew Fox forward, just as Remus knew it was meant to, but Sergei was there for Jackson to derail the puck. Fox was forced to turn around, Kravtsov was made to press forward for a pass, and it left Remus free to shoot into their defense zone. Strome tried to cross him, but Remus spun around him. Sergei and Jackson tried to get it to him, but it left the zone. Remus swore as he pushed hard to touch up the neutral zone.

“6, 58, 86, off, Reyes, O’Hara, LeBlanc, on!”

Remus pulled back to the bench, sending Cole a nod as he hopped over the boards for his first NHL shift. Remus’ shift had been thirty seconds that felt like ten, but he was breathing hard. Finn followed Cole with a tap to his back, promptly stole the puck from Chytil, and slapped it into the corner of the Rangers’ goal.

Remus had barely taken a drink of water when the goal horn blared Gryffindor’s roar filled Hogwarts Stadium.

He punched Sirius’ side, who had his arms raised. Sirius laughed from beside him as they settled onto the bench beside each other.

“Ouch,” Sirius rubbed his padding.

“I don’t know, I got excited,” Remus laughed.

They held his gloves out for Finn to tap as he came down the line, the goal song blaring, the crowd chanting along to the catchy drumbeat.

“Nice solo, Harz,” Remus called, and Finn grinned.

“Thanks, Rookie.”

It remained pretty even through the first and second. Panarin had three good chances, the fourth sailing past Kasey’s glove. Sirius scored a dirty wrap-around just before the second’s buzzer, and Remus didn’t think he’d ever like anything more than getting the full force of Sirius’ smile as he tapped gloves down the bench line. No sooner had the final face-off of the period set up than were Evgeni and Lindgren going at it, hands gripping the back of each other’s jerseys as they dropped their gloves. Gryffindor would start the third one man up.

Remus filed back down the tunnel towards the locker room, smiling at Layla as he dropped his gloves in the bucket she was holding to be dried. He felt warm, his muscles used and a little sore. He longed for an ice bath, but he wanted to use them more too. It was the most familiar feeling in the word. He smiled against it as he sat down in his stall, laughing lightly at the way Evgeni threw a wet towel over his head.

“Not skate enough over the summer,” Evgeni groaned.

Remus looked up when a shadow fell over him and was greeted by two hands on his cheeks and a warm, familiar kiss.

“J’adore,” Sirius said.

Remus laughed, holding his wrists where his pulse still high from the game.

“Nice goal.”

“Good to be back,” James said as he pushed his jersey over his head. “Crowd sounds amazing. How you doing, Reyes?”

Cole looked up from where he was re-taping his socks. “The crowd is amazing.”

Remus felt a slap on the back from Evgeni, towel around his neck now. “Good shift, rookie.”

“Kuns,” Remus sighed, and Evgeni just laughed teasingly.

Remus felt Sirius’ eyes on him throughout the entire intermission. He knew he was curious, and had been for months, about Remus’ game routine. He’d asked and asked over the summer, but that was the thing with Remus’ superstitions—he couldn’t talk about them.

Remus took two fresh sticks from his rack and sat back down. He began wrapping it steadily.

“Of course your tape job is perfect,” Thomas sighed, shaking his head. “Of course, of course.”

Remus laughed, ripping the tape with his teeth.

“Speak for yourself,” Jackson grinned, giving his stick a twirl, the tape warped and hurried.

Remus snorted. “All I see is a fucking candy cane.”

Power play. Lindgren went into the box, slamming the door a little too hard on his way.

“Black,” Coach called as the crowd shuffled into their seats, armed with food, and Remus had been expecting that. “Tremzy, Lupin, Fox, Sunny.”

Remus blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that.

Remus hopped the boards beside Sirius, and the stadium seemed to get louder. Sirius knocked their shoulders together, and Remus didn’t doubt the cameras were on them and he tried to control his expression. He didn’t want to look too pleased, or too dopy at the feeling of skating side by side with Sirius in front of a crowd.

I think this is the moment many of us have been waiting for, Dean.

You bet! I didn’t expect it to come so soon. Coach Weasley is trying out lots of different line combos tonight. What’s pre-season for? I hear Lupin’s played on the power play a few times in practice.

Sirius put his glove up by his mouth, holding his mouth guard.

“Try the double pass?” he said quickly.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Sirius bent down across from Zibanejad and the rest of the Rangers penalty kill unit.

It happened fast. Remus was used to seeing this from the bench—but maybe that was a good thing. He saw the ice as if through a wide lens, Sirius passed to Logan, and then it was on Remus’ stick to carry up. Remus blew out a breath, pushing his legs hard ahead of Panarin. He needed to get ahead, needed to stay parallel with Sirius. He felt Panarin scrape at his heels, but then Sirius was calling his name.

Shesterkin was still up and on his feet, reading to dive whichever way.

“Loup,” Sirius called, and it was as though it was only the two of them in the basement rink. Only the crowd was different, and absolutely roaring. 

Remus snapped the puck to Sirius, who passed it right back. Shesterkin went down when Remus pulled his stick back in a fake, only for him to give it back to Sirius to tap into wide open net.

Remus’ hands shot up, and the crowd screamed. Sirius all but slammed into him, wrapping him up tight against the boards.

“Re,” Sirius laughed through he words, pressing their helmets together. “Mon loup, mon loup—”

Logan crashed into them next, followed by Adam and Henrik. Remus found himself in the center of elated shouts, the fans pounding hands on the glass from the other side.

“Merde, it sounds like the playoffs,” Logan shouted, pressing a hand to Remus’ helmet.

Remus could only laugh, giddy, high on it all.

What a goal! Well, Lee, I don’t think we’re going to have to wait long to see this young man’s first regular season point.

~

“He fell for it,” Remus said for the tenth time as he handed Sirius the last of their dinner dishes. “Shesterkin fell for it.”

Sirius laughed and slid the dishes into the sink and turned, placing slightly damp hands on Remus’ cheeks.

“You are amazing,” he said, accent heavy and laced with a need that Remus had felt stirring in himself since getting off the ice. They’d been on the ice together today. They’d built a goal together, scored. Igor Shesterkin had fallen for their fake-out.

“I was so happy today,” Sirius whispered.

Remus closed his eyes, caught between the feeling of Sirius’ body colliding with his own in celebration, and the feeling of his warm hands here, now.

“It’s everything I’ve ever wanted,” Remus said softly, and opened his eyes, hands against Sirius’ chest.

What a terrifying, wonderful sentence.

Sirius just leaned in to kiss him, mouth tender and insistent. It was the same fire he had on the ice, leading Remus in a way that made his insides warm and his toes curl. Remus let Sirius guide him slowly up the stairs, and he relished in the way they stopped on the landing, on a half-way stair, just to be closer again, Remus’ mouth on his neck, Sirius’ against his temple. The hallway was dark, lit only by the nightlight they kept plugged in near their feet. It cast Sirius in warm angles as Remus tugged his shirt off and dropped it right there in the hallway.

“I’m not saying I’m not going to miss Regulus,” Remus said as Sirius bent to mouth gently against his neck. “But I’m not saying I’m not going to enjoy being able to undress you wherever I want now that we have the house to ourselves.”

Sirius’ laugh was soft, a little breathless. “Name your room, I’ll be there.”

Remus laughed, too. “Bedroom. Nice, soft bed.”

Sirius walked Remus backwards through the door, hands on his hips. “How do you feel? That was quite the race with Kreider in the second.”

“Good,” Remus nodded, but let Sirius’ strong hands dig into the muscles of his shoulders and back. He sighed into it, resting his cheek against his chest. “But I won’t say no to that.”

Sirius kissed Remus’ temple and worked his shirt over his head. He lay him down on the mattress and Remus closed his eyes at the feeling of Sirius’ lips against his neck, and then his shoulder.

Sirius kissed over the scar that Greyback had torn from Remus’ body all those years ago at their shared college, keeping Remus from a career in the NHL—at least until now.

“I wonder what he thinks,” Remus wondered aloud, and he didn’t have to explain himself for Sirius to know what he meant. Remus wound his fingers into Sirius dark hair as he looked up at him.

“Me too,” Sirius admitted. “And then I see red and have to stop thinking about it.”

Remus half-smiled. “Yeah…I felt bad at lunch those few weeks ago. With Cole. I really think he thought he said something wrong, and I wish I could explain but it’s still…it’s still like this weird secret, you know? Like people could find out if they really looked but no one has? And I don’t really want to bring it up but at the same time I know Fenrir has already spread lies. Saying it was a car crash or…who knows what. Sorry.” Remus pressed a hand to his face. “God, I’m completely killing the mood.”

“Re, hey,” Sirius pushed himself up onto his forearm, falling to the side and keeping their legs tangled.

“And it’s such a good mood, I just was thinking aloud.”

“You’re not. Talk to me. You can talk to me whenever.”

Remus ran his thumb over Sirius’ bottom lip. “Okay…yeah, I know that.”

“This was a big day,” Sirius said. “Huge for you. Of course you would be thinking about him. I used to think about my parents every time I stepped on the ice, even after things were getting better. I think…I think its just time. It takes time.”

“It was strange today,” Remus finally admitted. “I couldn’t…I didn’t know how close to you I could be. Out there, I mean. I’m your boyfriend, you’re mine, but we’re also teammates. There’s so much debate, about my place on the team and if you did something to get me there…I don’t know. I don’t want someone to accuse you of favoritism. You don’t deserve that.”

“We’re both,” Sirius said. “We’ll always be both. You’ll always be the boy I love. You’ll always be my teammate.” Sirius shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if we’re on the ice or not. And I don’t care if someone thinks I favor you. We both know I don’t. Not like that.”

Remus made a soft sound and pulled Sirius further on top of him, making him smile. “Love you.”

Sirius let Remus press slow kisses to his lips. “This mood feels pretty good to me.”

Remus just hushed him, tucking a hand into his waistband.

Sirius kissed him until Remus’ cheeks were hot and his cock was aching, pressed up against his sweatpants. Remus could still hear the Lions’ crowd rushing in his ears. Sirius’ palm cupped him and pushed his sweatpants down. They were both flushed and pink. Remus wanted to see those colors together.

He pulled Sirius’ hips against his own, discarding clothing until it was all bare skin. Remus ran his hands over the hard curves of his back. He had to squeeze his eyes shut, hooking his arms beneath Sirius’, holding onto his shoulders.

Their mouths found each other messily, dragging and half open in gasps.

“Sirius,” Remus breathed, voice higher than usual.

The adrenaline that Remus had thought had faded with the game only seemed to thrum brighter. Remus couldn’t help the smile the crossed his face, brows drawn together at the feeling of Sirius rutting against him.

Remus pressed his ankle gently to the back of Sirius’ knee and rolled them, drawing breathless laughs from both their mouths that he sealed away to keep like a love letter. It was soft mouths and hard hands, clutching each other closer, getting the most out of the warm friction. Remus swallowed Sirius’ gasps. His orgasm built up below his spine and Sirius seemed to read his mind. He reached between them with a hand, brushing a thumb at his base, pressing up. Remus’ hips stuttered and he fell apart, shoving hard against Sirius’ tight fist.

Sirius followed at the hot streak of Remus’ come between them, and they lay there, panting, foreheads together. Remus eased their hips back together, both of them letting out a soft moan, then a laugh, as the spent cocks brushed, drawing out the last tendrils of their orgasms.

“That feels good,” Sirius mumbled, head sunken back against the pillows.

Remus rolled his hips slowly, bringing them down, and then pulled his head up. He pushed Sirius’ sweaty hair back from his cheek and kissed it. 

“Communicate to score,” Sirius mumbled.

Remus laughed hard, squeezing his eyes shut, and dropped his face into his neck to catch his breath.

“It’s true,” Sirius said, running a warm palm up and down Remus’ back. “That article we looked at.”

They’d given in and read some press over dinner, laughing at some of the more excitable writers, and grinning at each other at the more serious ones.

Magnetism, one wrote. Feels like we’ve got some mind-readers on this team, a real Crosby-Malkin, Kane-Toews one-two-punch.

“Well,” Remus said, folding his arms across Sirius’ chest. “What am I thinking now?”

Sirius pressed his lips together, pretending to think. “Is it…how to get out of golf with James and the Cubs before the ring ceremony on Tuesday?”

Remus snorted. “Well, that’s definitely on my list. But nope.” He leaned in, brushing their mouths together. “That’s not it.”

Sirius grinned, and Remus sunk into how thick and sated his accent sounded. “Is it…will my handsome boyfriend please run me a bath and make me tea?”

Remus laughed into their next kiss. “Wow, that writer was right.”

~

It looks…maybe like a twisted knee? What do you think, Dean? Walker is definitely not making a move to get up—oh, there’s the medic. One of the Lions’ new staff members as, of course, someone had to take Lupin’s place. Ah, Walker is pointing to his foot now.

Man, is that a grimace if I ever saw one.

It sure is, Dean.

Here comes O’Hara to help out his teammate.

They were in Madison Square Garden, the Rangers giving them one hell of a re-match. Logan skated a close perimeter towards where Thomas had gone down, just between a line change.

“Shit,” Finn skated to a stop beside him. “It’s fucking pre-season. Did you see what happened?”

Logan shook his head. “Not really. Think it was just a bad fall. Strome looks sorry.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re not jumping him right now.”

Logan’s mouth quirked up. “I have no interest in jumping Strome, thanks.” His eyes found Leo on the bench. With his hat flipped backwards, the intensity, the worry in of his blue eyes cut a clear path to Thomas.

“T,” Finn said, skating closer. “Need a hand to the room?”

Thomas winced as he made it to one knee. “Yeah, man, thanks.”

~

Thomas stared up at the dark ceiling from the padded PT table, listening to the game continue on the TV mounted to the corner of the ceiling. There was the X-ray pushed to the corner, his results pinned up on the light screen. Fracture. Minor, but it’d take weeks to heal. He’d miss the beginning of the season. He’d be in a suit when they lifted the Stanley Cup champion banner in the stadium. He missed Noelle.

The light flicked on so suddenly Thomas flinched.

“Walker,” said an unfamiliar voice. It was accented—Swedish, he thought. Thomas squinted at the speaker. He was tall, and dressed in the staff jacket he’d come to associate with Remus. Right. Lars.

“I…hey,” Thomas said. His eyes went to Layla, who gave a wave as she slipped in behind the man. “Hey, man, Lars, right?”

Lars gave a short nod. “Nice to meet you. So, you probably know the drill by now. Couple weeks. Aspirin will be fine for pain management.”

“Right,” Thomas nodded.

“We’ve got a boot for you here, but I’d take everything to a doctor, just for a second opinion. I’ll recommend someone,” he shrugged. “That was an unlucky hit. I’m sorry.”

Thomas blinked. He didn’t know someone could seem sweetly uninterested. He smiled hesitantly. “Thanks.”

Thomas snapped a picture of the boot once he strapped it on and sent it out complete with a frowning emoji.

He had just opened the door to the locker room, accompanied by his new crutches and to meet his victorious team, when his phone began to ring with a Facetime.

“T,” Noelle’s voice gasped. She was beautiful, her hair curling around her face. “Baby, I saw.”

“It’s not too bad,” Thomas said beneath the noise as the locker room filled up. “You look like you’re about to go somewhere, I can call back, I just wanted to…”

I’m just sad about it. It sounded lame in his own ears.

He cleared his throat. “Logan, say hi to your sister.”

Logan poked his head into the frame and stuck his tongue out, then left.

“Lolo!” Noelle shouted for the locker room to hear, and Logan groaned.

“Lolo,” Kasey imitated, grinning, and Logan shoved his mask down over his face.

“How is it?” Finn asked, wrapping an arm around him. “Hi, Noelle.”

“Fractured. Couple weeks.”

“Damn,” Finn sighed. “Sorry, T. That was an—”

“unlucky hit,” Thomas laughed. “Preach.”

“Hey, baby, we’re all heading to grab some food, but call you tonight?”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He tried not to feel lonely as the screen went dark. He was in a room surrounded by people. People he loved.

It crept in anyway.

[let-me-luve-you]

Oscars Over Birthdays

Tom x Sister

Summary: The day Tom gets fantastic news is the same day your family forgot about your birthday.

Warnings: forgotten birthday, angst, slight cussing, rude family, fluff ending

MASTERLIST

You woke up and smiled as you smelled Sam cooking your favorite breakfast meal, cinnamon waffles. Tom introduced you to them on your grub tour in New York City. Weirdly enough, only the two of you liked them. The rest of the family didn’t. You quickly got dressed and had to stop yourself from running downstairs. You walked into the kitchen with a smile on your face seeing all four brothers and your parents there.

“What do we have here? Is that cinnamon waffles I smell?” You asked, faking confusion as why your favorite breakfast was being made.

“We have some celebrating to do Y/N.” Dom said, smiling at you.

“Tom has been nominated for an Oscar.” Nikki said. You looked at Tom shocked.

“Oh my gosh T!” You said running over to him to give him a hug. “That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks Y/N/N.” He smiled at you.

You walked over to the counter and made you a plate. Sam smiled at you as you grabbed a couple of extra waffles. “Eat up Y/N. I’m making a big dinner tonight. Everyone is coming.”

“Really?” You said trying to hide the smile of maybe your family was going to surprise you with a small party.

“Yup. Haz, Tuwaine, and the rest of the gang will be here.” Harry said.

“Cool.” You said trying not to sound hurt. You sat through breakfast and everyone just talked about Tom’s nomination and the rest of the nominations. You were quieter than normal, but your family didn’t notice.

You got a text around lunchtime from your best friend Ryann. It was always tradition to go out and eat on each other’s birthdays. No matter what your schedules were.

“Hey Y/N.” She said as you sat across from her at your favorite Italian restaurant. “How’s your birthday so far? What did your parents get you? What did your brothers get you?”

You sighed, “it’s been alright. I haven’t gotten anything. They haven’t even acknowledged my birthday yet. I thought maybe they would surprise me with dinner tonight when they mentioned Sam cooking, but they are doing it for Tom.”

“I saw that online this morning. I’m happy for him, but that’s no reason to forget your birthday.” Ryann said. You sighed once again and nodded in agreement. “Well you know what, forget it. I’ll give you the best birthday ever just with my presence.”

“My day is already better.” You said with a laugh, but you actually meant it. Throughout lunch, you and Ryann joked around and talked. You hadn't seen her in over a week due to her work schedule working against yours. It was nice to catch up in person.

“Here. I know you told me not to buy you anything, but I couldn’t help myself. Now after you telling me about your morning, I’m glad I did.” She said handing you a gift bag with Happy Birthday on it. You gave her a glare but she could see happiness in your eyes.

You took out the tissue paper and pulled out a basket with a bunch of small gifts in it. You saw a bath bomb with some bath salts, all of your favorite snacks, the new Ryan Reynolds movie, and an envelope. You gently set the basket onto the table and pulled out the card. You felt the thickness of it and glanced up at your friend. Ryann just smirked at you as you opened the card and saw a bunch of gift cards to your favorite restaurants, your favorite cafe, and your favorite shops.

“You didn’t?” You asked, shocked seeing the multiple different gift cards.

“Oh but I did because you deserve it.” She said smiling brightly at you.

“I don’t deserve you.” You said as you started to tear up. “This is too much.”

“No it’s not. Plus it makes up for that trip to LA you bought me.” Ryann said matter of factly.

“I invited you to Tom’s premiere. It only made sense to pay for it.”

“Yeah, but then you continued to buy everything. Even bought my dress for the premiere.” She said with a raised eyebrow.

You sighed before setting the card down and getting up to hug her. “Thank you Ry. You’ve made this birthday one of the best.”

She looked at you sadly, “I’m here to always make your days better.” You grabbed your gift and moved to exit the restaurant. Ryann followed. “Will you let me know how it goes with your family?”

“Yeah. Hopefully they’ve remembered by now.” You said sadly. “You’re welcome to come over for dinner tonight. Tom won’t be mad at you crashing his celebration dinner.”

“I’m meeting with Jake tonight or I would.” She said. When she looked up at you she added, “but I can reschedule. He’ll understand.”

“No, don't do that. You two are so close to making it official, I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“You would never get in the way. Jake likes you and he knows how much you mean to me.” Ryann said as you stopped at your car.

“Please don’t cancel on him.” You begged. “Just call me when you get home so I can hear all about it.”

“I will.” Ryann gave you one last hug before she walked to her car. You got into yours and drove to your house. When you walked in, you could hear a movie playing and the light sound of your family talking. You walked upstairs to your room to set your gift down. When you walked back downstairs, you decided to join Sam in the kitchen.

“Hey Sammy.” You said as you sat at the counter.

“Hey Y/N/N. Where have you been?” He asked. He kept his head down as he chopped the vegetables.

“Ryann took me to lunch.” You said.

“Fun. Hopefully you didn’t feel up too much? I’m cooking a big feast.” He said jokingly.

“I’ll always have room for your cooking. What are you making for dessert?” You asked, hoping maybe it would be your favorite pie or red velvet cupcakes.

“Crepe bar.” He said lifting his knife to point towards the table in the corner where the fillings already set. You stared at it for a moment so you could hide the disappointment from Sam.

“Yum. I love your crepes.” You turned and smiled at Sam. He smiled back. “What movie are they watching in there?”

“I think they’re watching that new KJ Apa movie. What is it?”

“Songbird?” You asked.

“Yeah that’s it’s. Have you seen it yet?” He asked.

“No but I’ve been wanting to. I’m not going to walk in there to start it in the middle. I’m going to go take a nap.” You said standing up. “Come get me when dinner is ready.”

“Okay, I will.” He said, turning towards the stove. You walked upstairs and went into your room. You felt tears building in your eyes but you refused to cry on your birthday. After shutting your door, you threw yourself onto your bed and pulled out your phone. You don’t get on social media much, but figured it was time just to do a quick check on all of it. You got on Twitter first and saw that Tom was trending. You clicked on it to see what everyone was saying.

Tom being nominated for an Oscar is what he deserves.

We stan an Oscar nominated king

You kept scrolling through the fans congratulating Tom when you saw one that caught your eye.

Tom being nominated for an Oscar on his sister’s (who’s his best friend) birthday is what I live for. Congrats Tom and happy birthday Y/N. You didn’t want to post until later tonight so you wouldn’t get bombarded with tweets, so you saved the tweet to thank the fan later. You then decided to search your name. You knew looking yourself up brought nothing but pain, but you wanted to see what people were saying. Seeing if anyone else wished you a happy birthday. What you didn’t expect was everyone hating on you for being the only family member that hadn’t posted about Tom’s nomination.

You knew it shouldn’t bother you because you had told Tom personally, but it hurt that these fans were saying such horrible things because you didn’t post on social media. You saw some try to defend you, but then you saw a fan had taken a picture of you and Ryann at lunch.

Y/N can’t congratulate Tom for his Oscar nomination but she can go out to lunch with a friend. What a bitch.

You immediately closed the app and took a deep breath. You’re not a bitch. You were spending your birthday with your best friend. There’s nothing wrong with that, you thought to yourself. You decide to delete the social media apps off your phone so you didn’t risk getting back on them today. You set your phone down and stared at the ceiling. Insecure thoughts flooding your mind.

You didn’t remember falling asleep but when you woke up you saw Tom smiling down at you. “It’s about time you woke up. I’ve been trying to wake you for five minutes.” He laughed.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize I fell asleep.” You whispered. Tom leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Come on. Everyone is here and dinner is ready.” Tom said, pulling you up from the bed. “After dinner, we are getting a fire started in the backyard.” You smiled at him and followed him to the dining room.

You sat down and noticed all of your family sitting there with Tuwaine and Harrison sitting there as well. You could tell they were all waiting on you.

“Good nap Y/N?” Harry said laughing.

“Shut up.” You whispered as you stared at him.

“This dinner is for Tom.” Dom said, raising his glass to cheers Tom. “He worked his butt off to get to this point and it’s only the beginning. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” Everyone said as they held up their drinks. You turned and smiled at Tom.

“I know I said it earlier, but I’m extremely proud of you. I'm glad I have you as my role model. Love you.” You whispered and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you Y/N/N.” He said smiling at you. “I love you too.”

Dinner went by quickly with everyone talking and laughing. You couldn’t remember the last time you had all sat down and ate dinner like this. Now you all sat outside around the fire pit. You sat next to Tom and shared a blanket with him. You just sat back and watched everyone interact. You get lost in your thoughts wondering how your family could forget your birthday. After an hour of sitting there, you decided you would go to bed. Even though it was still early, you just wanted to be alone.

“It’s been fun you guys, but I’m off to bed.” You said.

“Are you sick? You’ve been sleeping a lot today.” Nikki said, full of worry.

“No, I'm not sick. Just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” You lied. “Thanks for dinner Sam. And congrats again Tom. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight Y/N.” You heard everyone say. You walked up stairs and switched into pajamas. You were too mentally exhausted to shower. You figured you could just do it in the morning. Once your head hit your pillow, you were out.

Outside everyone kept talking. Harry was explaining something that he learned on set. Tom had heard the story a thousand times already so he pulled his phone out and got on Instagram for the first time today. He was scrolling through his timeline to see what his friends were doing when he came across a post Ryann had posted. He saw his sister smiling at the camera as she sat at a restaurant with a piece of cake in front of her with a sparkler candle on top. He looked at it confused and decided to slide through the multiple pictures. He saw one picture of her with a basket of goodies in front of her as she read a card. He scrolled down enough to see the caption.

A happiest 23rd birthday to my best friend and soulmate. I’m so lucky I got to spend time with you on your birthday. I love you and hope you have an amazing day.

Tom gulped as he stared at the phone with wide eyes. Paddy noticed his older brothers change in demeanor.

“What is it Tom?” Paddy asked concern. Tom looked up to him with pain lacing his eyes.

“Your nudes get leaked or something?” Harry joked. Nikki slapped him in the back of the head.

“It’s Y/N birthday.” Tom said. Everyone went silent. “We forgot her fucking birthday.” Tom stood up and paced. He was mad at himself for letting himself forget his best friend’s birthday. You and Tom had always been so close that everyone thought you were twins. You were only a year apart. It made sense that people would suggest that. Some even said they didn’t think Sam and Harry were the twins in the family.

“That’s why she’s been quiet today. We’re so horrible. I can’t believe I forgot my daughter’s birthday.” Nikki whispered more to herself but everyone heard. Tom looked at his parents and siblings before walking towards the house. He quickly walked in and ran to your room. He hoped you weren’t asleep yet. When he knocked on the door and didn’t get an answer, he decided to walk in. Your face was lit up from the lamp on your bedside table. What hurt Tom even more was he could see the tears that stained your face.

“Y/N?” He asked quietly. Thinking maybe you weren’t asleep. When he got no response and didn’t even see you flinch, he knew you were out for the night. He grabbed your extra pillow and blanket and sat next to your bed.

The next morning you woke up. Your eyes feel like sandpaper from crying. You didn’t even remember crying, but with the emotions from the day before it made sense you would. You gently sat up and jumped when you saw a figure lying on the floor. You leaned over to see Tom asleep.

“Tom?” You asked. He didn’t move. You got up and sat next to him. “Tom?” You asked again as you shook him. Tom slowly opened his eyes and looked around confused before looking at you. “Why are you sleeping on my floor?”

“I came in here shortly after you left so I could say how sorry I am for not remembering your birthday.”

You sighed. “It’s okay Tom. You got amazing news yester-“

Tom interrupted you, “it’s not okay. I don’t care if I was elected queen of England, no news is big enough to forget your birthday.”

“Queen of England?” You asked with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

“I think I would be an amazing queen.” He said with a small laugh. “Seriously though, I feel horrible.” Tom pulled you to him. You nestled your head into the crook of his neck. “I’m going to spend the day making it up to you. I promise. So get dressed. We’re starting with breakfast.”

You nodded and pulled away trying to hide the smile on your face. After getting dressed you walked downstairs and heard your family talking in the living room. When you walked in your whole family looked at you.

“Happy birthday Y/N!” They all yelled. Nikki ran over to you and crushed you in a hug. “I’m so sorry baby. We’re going to celebrate you tonight.”

“Yeah! I’ll cook all of your favorites.” Sam said.

“Don’t do that. You cooked all day yesterday.” Sam went to protest, “how about just make some red velvet cupcakes and we’ll call it good. We can order a pizza and have a nice family movie night.”

“Deal.” Sam said. After all members of your family apologized, you turned to Tom.

“Are you ready? I’m hungry.” You said with a pout.

“Then let’s go. Anyone want to join us for breakfast? We are also going to get lunch as well.”

“We will join you for lunch. Enjoy the morning together.” Dom said. Tom smiled at him before he turned to you and held his arm out for you to grab so he could lead you to the car.

“I’m going to treat you like the queen you are today. So if you want to do anything specific, just tell me.” Tom said as he got into the car with you.

“Just spending time with you and everyone else is enough. Thank you for making up for yesterday. I appreciate it.”

“I’ll go all out next year to fully make up for it.” He said.

“As long as there’s a bounce castle.” You joked with a laugh but Tom knew you weren’t joking.

[rere-the-writer]

Title- 'Centuries of waiting' part 2

Warnings: Fluff, shitty older brother, Jealous!Hayley, some angst

Summary: Klaus has murder on his mind, Y/N tells how she ended up with the Elite, Elijah just wants to spoil and love on his soulmate.

A/N: Dudes I got it a little angsty between Elijah and Hayley. This is what I get for listening to 'Battlefield' by Lea Michele while writing.

Morning sunlight shined though Elijah's bedroom window waking him up and found you asleep on top of him. This made him smile glad you were comfortable with him as if you had been with him forever. Elijah ran his fingers down your back as you nuzzled his neck feeling comfort settled over the bond.

"Elijah." You muttered sleepily as Elijah smiled kissing your head feeling you shift on his chest only to roll off onto the bed making him smile. While Elijah wondered how you ended up with the Elite but he didn't rush to push to tell him as he was focused on your needs at the moment.

"Morning beautiful." Elijah said cupping your cheek smiling when you hid your blushing face in a pillow. Elijah chuckled leaning over pressing kisses on your neck as he tried to not flood the bond with adoration and love as to not to overwhelm you.

"Goodmorning." You muttered as Elijah gently urged you out of bed. You yawned getting up only to be picked up by Elijah and taken to the bathroom. You were surprised with how soft Elijah was with you as he was far from the stories the Elite told.

"Something on your mind, little heart?" Elijah asked softly brushing your hair from your face pulling you from your thoughts.

"It isn't nothing to worry about....you are just really different from the stories the Elite told." You answered Elijah as he frowned and looked at you when you reached up cupping his face.

"You don't scare me, Elijah. Because if you really the monster they say I shouldn't be alive." You tell your soulmate softly as Elijah leaned down to kiss you while you both flooded the bond with 'I love you.'.

"Breakfast is ready, Elijah." Hayley said crossing her arms still not liking how Elijah seemly had completely trusted the fact you were his soulmate.

"Sleep well Elijah?" Caroline asked with a smirk on her face watching Elijah once again pulling you into his lap. Elijah chuckled knowing what the blonde vampire was asking as he rubbed your side.

"I'm giving her a chance to get use to this first Caroline." Elijah said making the blonde giggle as you blinked looking at Elijah who just smiled at you kissing your nose.

"Goodmorning all." Klaus said smirking as he walked into the kitchen stealing a quick kiss from Caroline. Elijah raised an eyebrow noting the smirk and looked at Rebekah who noticed too.

"Have plans for today Niklaus?" Elijah asked stealing a grape off your fork making you pout but an idea popped in your head and began to feed Elijah some of your fruit salad.

"Yes. Murder." Klaus said as his smirk darken as he sat down looking at you getting a low growl from Elijah as his hold on you tighten making you look at Elijah comforting him through the bond.

"Niklaus."

"No need to worry brother. I was thinking your little soulmate goes out spend the day with the girls while we plot the death of the Elite." Klaus says leaning back against the chair as Elijah calmed down opening his mouth as you fed him a piece of melon.

"What about the first Sired?"

"They are no worry as of right now Hayley." Klaus says as he was itching to kill those that harmed you. You were family now so those that hurt you will meet his rage. You smiled feeding Elijah another grape which he happily took eyes twinkling with joy.

"Will you be okay?" You asked toying with the pendant of the Mikaelson Crest Elijah had gifted you. Elijah was making sure you were ready for your outing with the girls.

"Don't worry about me, little heart. Buy whatever you want." Elijah tells you handing you his credit card as he kissed your forehead. You blushed knowing Elijah wanted to spoil you again. You said a goodbye to Elijah then hurried to Rebekah's side.

"So Y/N were did you come from?" Hayley asked watching you as you blinked trying to remember since you had been with the Elite for a long while. It also didn't help the Elite would compel you and others for complete control.

"New York....I was a ballerina." You answered Hayley trying really hard to remember as Caroline stepped next to you smiling softly.

"Hey don't worry about not remembering right now. We have a dress to get you." Caroline says looping her arm with yours with Rebekah on the other side of you smiling also. The four of you had bought some nice dresses and some shoes more so Rebekah and Caroline was going to help you pick out a gorgeous dress for the Strix party Elijah was invited to.

"How did you end up with the Elite?" Hayley asked you watching you stop looking though dresses and put your head down. Rebekah was by your side in a blink of an eye seeing you shake and Caroline rubbed your back seeing tears fall down your face.

".....my older brother......sold me to them." You said as the memories came flooding back and your tears wouldn't stop.

"Once he found out I was a soulmate to an Original....he knew he could pay off his debts." You said shivering remembering how the leader of the Elite looked at you like you were a piece of meat. You also remember how your brother was okay with selling you off.

"How about we get you home." Caroline said softly as she lead you out of the store and Rebekah pays for your dress while Hayley felt a little guilty for bringing it up. Once back at the compound you surprised Elijah by climbing into his lap and buried your face in his neck your tears wetting the collar of his shirt.

"Baby?" Elijah asked softly as he wrapped his arms around you searching the bond for answers but only felt an overwhelming sadness and fear. So Elijah listen to Rebekah and Caroline explain to Klaus on why you were acting like this.

"Elijah?" Hayley said softly a moment later seeing that the Original hadn't moved from his chair as you had fell asleep against him. Elijah looked at her then focused his attention back on you, he had removed your heels and wrapped you in a blanket.

"Why are you pushing her away? Is it because she is my soulmate?" Elijah asked Hayley as the female hybrid crossed her arms.

"I just think you are rushing to fast on wanting it to be true."

"You don't believe that she is. Even though Freya said the bond was real." Elijah said freezing when you shifted then relaxed when you settled against his chest.

"Elijah, don't you find it a little suspicious that she shows up right when the Sired did?"

"No. The Elite had been in New Orleans longer than the Sired had from what Marceltold us." Elijah said as he stood up hold you bridal style. Elijah looked at Hayley.

"I loved you that I cannot deny Hayley but choose to marry Jackson. So if you really did love me you would have fought for us now allow me this happiness." Elijah said walking past her pausing at the door away.

"Maybe in a different life we could have loved one another. But I want to be happy Hayley and not waiting on what ifs." Elijah said softly before walking away not seeing the tear roll down Hayley's cheek.

You woke seeing it was dark out and felt Elijah pulling you back against his chest letting you roll over.

"I am sorry for earlier."

"It is fine little heart. You are still adjusting to this and the bond." Elijah says softly running his fingers through your hair.

"But....."

"No buts. The compulsion you were under us coming undone due to our bond. Hayley should have been more careful when asking about your past."

"Oh....were you two a thing?" You asked as you saw how Hayley would look at Elijah. It made you feel a little insecure but you felt Elijah flood the bond with love.

"We were but she married another. I loved her deeply I had gave up looking for you believing that I didn't have a soulmate."

"But when I felt you reach out that spark love lit with in me so I started searching for you. Hayley thought it was witches messing with me but when the auction came and I saw you....I just knew and all I wanted was you."

You looked at Elijah eyes tearing up leaning in kissing him softly and Elijah responded to the kiss right away. You squeaked as he lifted you placing you on top of him and your hands were on his chest.

"Elijah." You whispered sounding a bit whiny as Elijah pulled you down kissing you again. His hands were on your hips moving under your skirt as you both got more needy with your kisses and clothes went flying.

"I love you Elijah."

"I love you too my little heart." Elijah says softly drowning his self in your touch knowing he wasn't going to let you go.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝕭ʟᴜᴇ 𝕳ʏᴅʀᴀɴɢᴇᴀ

_________________________

sᴜɢᴀʀ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x sᴜɢᴀʀ ʙᴀʙʏ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you come home from california after a year back to your old man

(Heavily inspired by Heroin by Lana Del Rey + Lightly by Old Money by Lana Del Rey)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs:: major angsttt, smut 18+ minors dni plz, bit of fluff, age gap

TW/CW: past drug use [reader], post-rehab

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: lana del rey’s music gives me major sugar daddy!steve vibes idky lol

(also brief description of ‘reader’ written to have hair that can moved from the face is like one sentence sorry but ur giving daddy steve a bj)

___________________________

You grabbed your bags and walked to the pick up spot at the JFK airport. It’s been a year since you’ve been in New York and you missed the city terribly. You especially missed your old man.

You stood for a minute scanning the bodies that littered across the floor until your eyes met those beautiful cerulean blue eyes you spent so many hours looking into. Instantly tears brimmed your eyes watching him move swiftly past the people dressed so casually unlike his usual stature sporting that incredible all black suit he always wore.

He looked tired and drained. Like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Y/n,” he came up to you, cupping your face before pressing his lips to yours passionately, desperately.

“Fuck, Stevie. I missed you so much,” you cried.

“I missed you too. I thought about you all the time; everyday, every hour, every second,” he hugged you tightly.

“Stevie, I wanna go home,” you whispered against his lips.

“Let’s go home,” he told you.

Home.

It’s been so long since you’ve been home.

You got to the car and Steve told you to just wait in the car as he put your bags in the trunk. You smiled softly at him before slipping in the passenger's seat waiting to go home like you’ve been dreaming about since the day you left. Steve quickly slipped into the driver’s seat himself and drove off eager to go home and finally hold you close again.

The car ride was quiet. You watch the blurry lights through the wet glass window of the car and your mind could help but wander back to the day Steve saved your life.

One Year Ago

You stumbled your way through the elevator doors with a lazy smile on your face.

“Stevie!!” you screamed when you saw him sitting at the counter with a whiskey in hand.

“You’re late,” he said quietly.

“Sorry,” you said.

“Why were you out so late? I gave you a curfew,” she said sternly.

You weren’t giving him much time, your body was on fire. You unzip your dress, not so gracefully, strippping out of your clothes. You pranced around in your panties and a bra giggling and running around asking Steve to catch you but he was having none of your shit.

“Get your ass over here right now!” his voice boomed startling you.

He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead and roamed his hands along your body anyway but sexually. Your skin was extremely overheated and flushed. He was pissed. You had promised him the reckless behavior was over, but you couldn’t.

You were an addict.

“What the hell are you on?” he said firmly.

“Guess?” you were absolutely not taking this seriously.

“I’m not gonna ask twice; tell me!”

“Molly,” you whispered shamefully.

“God fucking dam-” he rubbed his face in frustration.

"Why do you even care so much you're- I- I'm nothing but a stupid sugar baby, anyway, " you slurred your words.

“You're more than that, and I know you fucking know it. You promised me you were going to stop! I’m done, I'm done” he breathed out. His chest felt like it was tightening, he couldn’t breathe anymore. He felt nauseous.

“No! No, no, baby; please!” you cling onto him like a child.

“You could’ve been hurt! What would happen if that shit was laced with something that could have killed you, hell taking it alone in the first place could have been the last straw! I’m doing this shit with you anymore.”

You cried, no you sobbed hysterically. You need Steve, he was your everything, your rock, your hope, your love. You knew you were a huge mess but you couldn’t stop. You didn’t know how. Didn’t know where to begin, who to go to. You felt alone.

You grew surrounded by money but when you moved to New York, you succumbed to the temptations and your parents were done with your shit. Meeting Steve, agreeing to this sugar baby thing was simply to use his money for drugs and alcohol, that’s all you lived for. Your life was over, might as well fuck yourself over while you're at it.

But you fell in love.

Goddamn, the man was perfect. He was treated with so much love and gentleness and compassion. You hadn’t felt so loved since you cut your ties with your parents and it hurt so good. You wanted to quit for him. The first night he found you disheveled and fucked, you were so embarrassed. You promised him it would stop that you were gonna be clean; but that only lasted twelve hours.

He should’ve ended it. He should’ve stopped whatever this relationship was. He told himself it was one time thing but once turned into twice, then four times until you went out every night getting high off your ass with anything that was available.

Steve couldn’t take it anymore. But like you, he fell in love too. He loved you. He really loved you. He couldn’t imagine his life without anyone else and the thought of losing you made him terrified.

“I’m done! I can’t sit here waiting for you every night wondering if you went too far! Staring at my fucking goddman phone waiting for the day they call and tell me you killed yourself! I can’t do it! You promised me you were done with this shit but here you are high off your ass again with molly,” he cried. Tears streamed down his face, his heart pained at the sight you breaking down.

“I need help, please,” you whimpered.

“Are you going to let me help you?” he sniffled.

“Yes! Please, help me,” you sobbed.

“Pack your things. You’re leaving for California tomorrow,” he said.

“What?”

“There is a rehabilitation center in California and I want you to go there,” he whispered.

“No-”

“Please, Y/n. it’s only for a year-”

“A year! No, I can't be away from you that long, please no!” you sobbed even more.

“It’s for the best,” he tightly holds you down.

“Why not here-”

“It’s for the best. I promise I’ll be waiting right here for you when you get back. I swear,” he looked into your eyes.

“Stevie,” you cupped his face, “I don’t wanna leave you.”

“I know; I don;t want you to leave but I promise you’re gonna get on that airplane and you’re gonna come back and tell me everything’s ok, yeah?” he pressed his forehead.

“Ok. You make me feel I can change. I’m gonna come back and tell you that I have really changed,” you promised.

“I believe it,” he smiled.’

“Maybe California is good. Something about this city makes my head go crazy. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sick of it,” you told him.

“I love you; so much,” he whispered those words for the first time.

“I love you too,” you cried.

“You ok?” Steve pulled you from your thoughts.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m just- I’m really happy to be home,” you choked out.

Steve grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips kissing you softly. His eyes stayed on the road every now and then glancing at you like a dream come true. You pulled up to the building where you two lived and Steve asked the entourage to take your things up for you. He lifted you in his arms with a beautiful hopeful smile and carried you to the apartment.

When the elevator door opened he practically ran to the bedroom nuzzling his face in your neck kissing lightly. You somewhat took in the familiar surrounding noticing no change since you’d last been there. It was bittersweet. He hadn’t changed a thing since you left.

“I missed you so fucking much, baby,” he whispered.

“Steve,” you sighed, combing your fingers through his hair.

“I’m never gonna let you go again.”

“You won’t have to. It’s all over; no more clubs, no drinking, no drugs, none of it. That girl, you used to call the queen of New York City, she’s gone. ”

“You’re still my queen,” he smirked, making you chuckle.

“I’m so fucking proud of you. You are so strong,” he praised.

You grabbed his neck and pulled him forward crashing your lips against his. You molded perfectly against like you were made for him. Like everything had led up to this moment. It felt different this time; his hands touching you delicately.

You two have had sex many of times but this time it was different.

He peeled your shirt off your body pressing kisses all over your chest. His tongue flicking over your nipple making you gasp softly. His hands gripped at your waist as he brushed his nose between the valley of your breasts.

You craved his skin on yours, practically clawing his shirt off his body. He got the memo and briefly sat up ripping his shirt off his body before falling back on top of you. His hips settled between yours and you could feel his growing erection poking through the material of his flimsy sweats.

You pushed him off your body, flipping him so you could straddle his waist; smiling devilishly as you brought your hands up to your breasts to massage them. Steve growled at the angelic sight above him pulling your hands away to replace them.

He twisted your nipples as you slowly grind your hips over his for a moment. That moment quickly died as you snaked down his body curling your finger over his pants. You languidly pulled them down his legs letting his erected cock spring free. You moaned at the sight, haven’t been able to see it since you left that fateful morning.

You wrapped your hands around the base of his cock and stroked his dick slowly pulling wanton moans from him that were music to your ears. You leaned forward and licked teasingly along the tip before swirling your tongue around it making him groan. His hand went to your head combing your hair from your face gathering it in a messy ponytail.

Your lips wrapped around his cock perfectly just that way he likes it; like you’ve a thousand times before. He looked to the ceiling and sighed at the pleasure you were giving to him. He was never one to make much noise during sex but he was craving your mouth wrapped around him; he couldn’t contain the moans and grunts that wanted to come out. He couldn’t wait until he’s buried between your thighs.

You cheeks hollowed around his dick sucking hard before you take him all at once repeating over and over again. Steve’s hold on your hair tightened with every bob of your head thrusting his hip in time with your rhythm. Hitting the back of your throat, Steve’s hip stuttered and his legs shook approaching his orgasm fast.

“No, I wanna come in you, baby girl,” he panted, pulling you off of his dick. You quickly discarded your panties before climbing back on top of him to straddle him, knees on either side on his hips. You cupped his face kissing him senselessly; passion and lust and most importantly love enveloping you two.

You lifted your hips briefly as Steve lined his cock with your soaking entrance and slowly sunk down allowing him to stretch you impeccably. You moaned in sync, like you were becoming one again after so long being unable to hold each other.

His arms wrapped around holding close as you waited a bit to adjust to his size again. He peppered faint kisses along your neck and collar bone, nipping playfully at your skin too. You felt so full and incredible basking in his attention and the feeling of your walls wrapped around him again.

You moved your hips back and forward, your clit grinding against his pelvis making you shiver in pleasure. You face tucked tightly in the crook of Steve neck, your thrusts getting faster and faster. Steve’s hands moved to your hips lifting you slightly before slamming you back down on his cock harshly. This made you throw your head with a cry of pleasure, strings of curse words flowing from your mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie. I missed your cock so much,” you whined.

“I missed you too baby,” he grunted.

You looked at his face watching it contort with pleasure, his eyes completely screwed shut overwhelmingly. Sweat lined his forehead, the shorter pieces of hair sticking to it. You brought your hand to it brushing his hairs back so you could see his face in it’s fullest beauty.

He peeled his eyes open, staring directly into eyes and breathed heavily in time with you. For a single moment between you both, time stopped. It felt as if the world was gone and all that mattered was right now; you being back in your old man’s arms again, the love of your life.

You couldn’t help the quick glance at his red swollen lips, desire to kiss them again overcoming you. You leaned forward capturing his lips for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, but it's something you’ve ever got tired of. The way slightly chapped lips molded perfectly with yours.

“I love you, baby,” he moaned.

“I- fuck!” you couldn’t even speak anymore when Steve’s thrusts became harder and faster desperate to chase both your’s and his orgasms.

“Look at me baby,” he growled, “You were fucking made for me. No one can ever fuck you like I can. No is ever gonna take care of you like I do. And no one, absolutely fucking no one, is ever gonna love you as much I do.”

Tears streamed down your face; overwhelmed with love and desire and lust. Steve saved your life and you owe him everything. You loved him evermore; he is everything. Steve kissed you again, addicted to your lips, tasting the salty tears that came from your hopeful and loving eyes. He wiped the tears away with his thumb.

“Stevie, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered.

“Come all over my cock baby girl. You deserve it,” he whispered.

Your body shook as you reached your high. Chanting Steve's name like prayer, like it was the only word you knew to say. Steve’s rutted his hips into one last time spilling his seed inside you, hot cum coated your velvety walls. You collapsed forward onto him and he held you tightly.

Your fragile body trembled against him and Steve's heart ached a bit. He knew you were overwhelmed, hell so was he. But he was so utterly happy to have you back. There were so many nights where Steve lied awake at night, unable to sleep without you, day-dreaming of a future with you when you’d come home. He knew you were a strong woman and he knew you were going to come back to him healthy and stronger than before.

He remembers the day he came back to New York after leaving you in California. He was with his old pal Bucky at a local bar in Manhattan. He’s always really known inside that he’d fallen in love with you, he’d proven already that he’d do anything for you. But that night is when he finally admitted it out loud to himself and to others. Steve can’t imagine his future with anyone else but you and he’ll be damned if something happened to you.

“Sweet girl, I love you with all my heart,” he whispered, stroking your back softly.

“Even when I’m old; when I shine from words and not from beauty?” you whispered.

“I will love you evermore,” he said.

He whispered more sweet things as you cried holding him tightly spending your first night back together in his arms. Before, you didn’t know where life was gonna take you; either to the moon or six feet under. But Steve swept you away to a promiseland and you’ll follow him blindly. It didn’t matter where life was going to take you next as long as you were with your old man, you were happy.

Completely and utterly happy.

=====================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@wandanatasha0720

[justkending]

Moral of the Story. Chapter Four.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all this time to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of old loves and lives all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count:

A/N: 

Chapter Four:

Bucky groaned as the alarm blared throughout the room. Rolling over to his side, he threw his head into the pillow. That didn’t stop the beeping like he had hoped, so with a groan he pushed up, smacking the red numbers that screamed at him. He rolled back onto his back and blinked up at the bare ceiling.

Today was the day…

_________________

Y/N couldn’t seem to sleep at all, so she woke up early at 6:30 jumping into the shower. Having the extra time, she took it to have a nice long soak in the hot water. The schedule of the day running through her mind.

The chance of them running into each other was practically at 100%. They had a time frame of 9-10 to get in and sign what they needed. Mr. Murdock said something along the lines that it would take about 30-45 minutes to get everything finalized and copied. 

So yeah… Within an hour frame of needed 30-45 minutes of signing shit and getting multiple copies made, meant Bucky and her would most likely be sitting next to the other as it was done. 

She let out a tired and irritated moan as she finally decided to turn off the water. She had it running for so long, her hands were prunes and the water was becoming lukewarm. The world was telling her to suck it up and move on with the day. 

____________

The car ride there was dreadful. Every stop light just elongated the inevitable meeting. Every turn brought him closer to the terrifying reunion. 

He was running early to begin with, but after hitting traffic from a wreck, he was now running just a few minutes behind. So weaving through the people who didn’t understand New York traffic was his specialty in showing up in time. 

____________

She stopped at the coffee shop by her house before really heading to the attorneys office. The car ride to the place was easy and smooth on her end. From coming from the outskirts of Brooklyn, the inner city traffic was avoided for the most part. So she was there early. She even had a second to sit in her car and drink the latte she had bought. Something about Brooklyn latte’s was 10x better than anything California had.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact they actually had cold weather to pair the hot drink with, whereas where she now lived, the lowest low in temperatures was 70 degrees. 

________________

Getting there with just 3 minutes to spare, Bucky rushed out of the car and walked with a hint of speed to the door that read Nelson and Murdock Law Firm. 

No sign of Y/N yet, but as he walked in, he heard a shout from the street that caused him to turn as soon as he walked in. He didn’t have a second to register what the shout was about as he took two steps in and ran straight into someone’s back. 

“Whoa!” he said, using his hands to brace himself on the mystery person's shoulders, and the other person making the same exclamation. “Oh God, I’m so sor-”

Before he could finish the apology, the women turned showing the face of his matured high-school-sweetheart. 

“Oh,” he let out in a breathy turn. He could tell just from past experience with her, she had a snarky comment on her tongue at the run in, but upon seeing him, the words died on her lips. “Hey.”

She looked great. Like, really great after all these years. Not that she wasn’t a beautiful gal to begin with, but you never know how someone’s going to age. However, she looked almost the same. 

Sure, she had aged some, but just like a nice bottle of the finest wine in all the vineyards of California. Maybe that was her secret given her new home. 

Her Y/H/C hair was styled in loose curls. It was voluminous with a healthy shine to it. She had on an off white, canvas dress that cinched at the waist with buttons going down it. And she had a layered gold necklace going down her chest where the buttons were undone. She looked both professional yet casual at the same time. 

Bucky realized he had been staring when she awkwardly looked around her trying to not pay attention to his analyzing eyes. 

“Hey,” she said, letting out a deep breath. 

She didn’t miss how good he looked either. Even in those facebook pictures that she had found the night before, the ones she found him just as attractive, they didn’t do the real man justice. His hair was just as long as the most recent picture his mother had posted, and he looked more muscular than she ever remembered. The scrubs didn't do his build justice. 

He was wearing a navy blue v-neck tight fitting t-shirt. A brown leather jacket that looked as though it was tailored specifically for him and him alone. And lastly, he had on a pair of jeans that of course, fit in him all the right places. 

There was a very awkward silence as they stood there not knowing what else to say. Neither now looking at the other, but instead looking at every little inanimate object item in the office. 

After what felt like eons of the most tense silence to exist, Bucky was about to speak up again, but was cut off from another person running in late.

“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry guys,” the voice sighed, out of breath from what they presumed was running to get there on time. “Foggy was supposed to pick me up and we were going to ride together, but he got food poisoning last night, so I had to take the train last minute.”

The man had dark brown hair, a nice suit, and a pair of sunglasses on even though it was overcast today and the sun was barely peeking through the heavy clouds. 

“Foggy?” Y/N asked with a tilt of her head. 

Bucky turned back looking at her with the same question on his mind, but watching the small action of confusion brought him back 10 years. God, it had been so long he had almost forgotten the little mannerisms she had that he found adorable. And damn her for still having that adorable action. 

“Oh, right. Franklin Nelson. My co-attorney,” he nodded. “We’ve been friends since we were in college. Friends call him Foggy.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded with a kind smile. 

“Anyway, I won’t bore you with my morning chaos. I’m sure you two are ready to get this over with and go on about your day,” he smiled, and pulled a walking stick out from around him as he closed the door. One that neither had realized he had been holding until now. “You two much be James and Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Matthew Murdock.

“It’s nice to meet you Matthew,” Y/N replied sweetly.

“Yes, thank you for helping us out,” Bucky nodded, placing his hands nervously in his pockets. 

“It’s my pleasure. I’m so sorry about everything that you guys are having to fix,” he said apologetically. But I’m sure you guys want to go about your day, so please, right this way,” he motioned to the door that was across from them. 

Bucky and Y/N both shared an impressed look on their faces as they watched him maneuver through the office gracefully. 

They followed close behind him and once they were seated in the chairs in front of the desk, Bucky began to fidget in his spot. Sure the office had been redone and really didn’t look much like it had all those years ago, but the layout was the same. And all it was doing to him was bringing back memories he hated trudging back to the surface. 

He subtly looked over at Y/N and saw her sitting in perfect posture watching Matthew as if if she were to look at him and only him, then she wouldn’t have to face Bucky. 

Why did he expect anything less? Of course she hated him just as much as she had all those years. She was probably dreading this meeting just as much as him. That small speck of hope that maybe they could be somewhat normal and civil upon meeting again after all this time, completely faded at that point. 

“Ok, this really shouldn’t take all that much time since Foggy and I went ahead and wrote up all the things that needed signed and double checked. So we should be able to breeze through all this,” Matthew nodded, bringing up a thick file that looked as though it had tabs on the side organizing them. 

Y/N looked over wondering just how he knew the difference between documents and noticed on each tab, there were bariel markings along them. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, out of all places to live, why New York? It’s got to be hard getting around such a crazy busy city given.. ” Bucky asked, but didn’t finish not sure how to word it. Y/N snapped her head in his direction and smacked his arm. “Ow!” Bucky jumped, sending her raised eyebrows. “What the hell?”

“I’m assuming you’re asking because of this,” Matthew laughed casually as he pointed to his glasses. “Don’t worry. You would be surprised just how often I get asked that.”

“Yeah, it was just a question,” Bucky pouted toward Y/N while rubbing his assaulted arm. The two falling back into their old behaviors rather fast. 

“I wasn’t always blind. I mean I have been for a good chunk of my life, but I’ve lived in New York my whole life as well,” Matthew went on to explain as he moved papers around. “If anything it would be harder for me to get around if I moved any place else. I know this place like the back of my hand.”

“That’s impressive,” Bucky nodded, getting comfortable in his seat. 

“Eh, it’s either learn or get bumped around the sidewalk of a place full of people who don’t give a second glance to anyone who’s in their way,” Matthew shrugged. “Oh, I need to go grab something before we start.”

He maneuvered through the room leaving the door open as he went across the office. Tension filled the air as they were left alone for a second time in the past 5 minutes. 

Y/N was sitting straight forward, her eyes wandering here and there around the meeting room, but careful not to go over to Bucky’s side of the room. He looked down seeing her hands were fiddling in her lap. She was tapping her thumbs together while his leg bounced up and down.

Bucky had opened his mouth to start to say something, but even he wasn’t sure what was about to come out. Lucky for him, Matthew came back in and went back to his seat. 

“Sorry about that. I thought I had it all, but needed to get some pens and one last paper I left on the printer last night.”

“You’re fine,” Y/N said professionally, but kindly. “I have one quick question, if you don’t mind.” Matthew nodded her on with a soft smile. “What exactly happened to Hammer after all this chaos was discovered?”

“Oh, yes. He, uh, he will not be an issue to anyone else to put it lightly. His license was revoked and terminated and he is currently on trial for money laundering and malpractice,” he answered. 

“Serves him right,” Bucky mumbled, and instead of getting a smack to the arm, Y/N nodded in agreement. 

“Ok, if you two are ready, let’s begin,” Matthew smiled before grabbing the first set of papers. 

The two straightened in their seats and the process began.

After a few minutes of just signing, Matthew started to make notes of updated information for the two. 

“Ok, Mrs. Barnes, sorry, Y/N,” he corrected quickly. “What is your line of profession at the moment?”

“I work at Horizon Labs in L.A. It’s a company a friend and I from college started up. I’m a Sustainable-Conscious Financial Advisor for a lot of smaller businesses as well as some bigger ones we recently just became partners with,” she answered. 

“Horizon Labs, huh?” Matthew said with an impressed look. Bucky turned to look at her as she lightly blushed. “I think I listened to a podcast about them. You guys help companies use recycled goods and find energy efficient technology, right?”

“We just redirect them to people who can help them get those resources. It’s practically just connecting the companies that would work great together in helping the environment,” she nodded humbly. 

“That’s amazing,” Matthew smiled. “We need more people and companies like that.”

“Thank you.”

He made note of that on a computer. “I’m assuming with all that, you have to be a little too busy for a second job, right? I don’t need to make note of another?”

“Uh, actually,” she added, Bucky’s already focused eyes on her quirked at her response. “I just invested in a Woman’s shelter with another friend of mine. I haven’t really got to do much with it, but it is a second job as of lately.”

“Wait? Nat?” Bucky caught on.

“Uh, yeah,” she nodded almost shyly. Probably the second time out of this whole meeting that she actually made eye contact with him. “My company works with them in getting some of the resources and items they need for the shelter. I talked with Nat and I invested into it some to help with some with their financial advisements.” 

“Wow, th-that’s,” Bucky faltered. “That sounds like you,” he said with a breathy laugh thinking about how maybe she really hadn’t changed all these years. That being one of the ‘reasons’ they had broken it off, how people change and all. But that’s a story for another time.

Y/N didn’t show a response to his words, but she did take them in. 

“So you run a woman’s home and you run a well-off business that promotes eco-friendly resources for the environment?”

“Well, I don’t run the woman’s home. That’s all my friends doing. I just help where help is asked if I can,” she answered once again humbly. No sense of egotistical pride hinted in her explanations or answers. 

“That’s extremely impressive Y/N,” Matthew gushed some, and Bucky noticed the smallest form of attraction come off the lawyer. He straightened at that. “I’ll make a note of it. And you Mr. Barnes. What is your occupation?”

Bucky relaxed his shoulders and focused back at the issue at hand. Trying to not get jealous of something that wasn’t even his to be jealous of. 

“I’m one of the head occupational therapist at Stark Theracorp,” he answered. Now it was Y/N’s turn to look at him intrigued. “I run the geriatric occupational therapy floor and manage our equipment and employees. ”

“Two very impressive people in the work field from what I’m getting,” Matthew chuckled some as he made the notes. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to ask about income from the both of you for the record. If you want to write it on a paper and hand it to me you can or if you are comfortable saying it outloud that works too. Either way, I’ll have Foggy add it in later to the finalized papers.”

“Wait, so we aren’t finalizing it today?” Y/N asked, somewhat shocked. 

“Did Foggy not tell you?” Matthew asked. “I thought he reached out to you before this meeting.”

“I don’t believe so,” Y/N shook her head. 

“Well, the reason this one is so quick is because I just need a few signatures and updated notes on you two. After that, I’ll make the altercations for the official papers and I’ll send those to you both on their own to get the final signature. You can either bring them to me here, fax them, or have them sent via mail after you signed off on them.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded. The look of defeat in her posture and facial expressions.

It hurt Bucky a little seeing her reaction to it. Did she really want to get away from him that bad? Was he that much of a nuisance in her life? I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be divorced 9 years ago, but he didn’t want it then and it still hurt seeing just how much she wanted it now. 

“That’s not an issue is it? I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Matthew apologized. 

“No, no. It’s ok,” she said in reassurance to him. But she let out an almost bitter laugh before she spoke again. “We’ve been married for the past 9 years apparently. What’s a few more days?”

“I guess that’s true,” Matthew laughed with her. 

Bucky rolled his eyes discreetly. He really hated how she was reacting with all this. It wasn’t surprising, but doesn’t mean it hurts any less seeing how badly she wanted out of the situation.  

“Mr. Barnes, are you ok with that?” 

“I’ll survive a few more days, I guess,” he returned just as bitterly as Y/N. The two looked at each other one more time, but this time, anger and annoyance was clear on both of their faces.

If you would like to be tagged in this series, please send an ask! It keeps things more organized for me. If you comment, I most likely will not add because I loose them:)

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Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624 @leyannrae @lonerlovescompany @jessyballet @angstysebfan @tita127 @semistablecentenarian @im-a-light-child @alyssahowden @studiesinspanish @natyvwe @rebekahdawkins@fanfictionjunkie1112 @millennial-teenybopper @scotlandasshole @aquariusbarnes @shinykoalacat​

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My Lovelies forever:

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@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​