He Made All Of These

New Tricks

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead

What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular. 

Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.

Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne

Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗

These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️

I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door. 

“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time,  when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.  

Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck. 

The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again. 

Excellent, you inwardly sigh.

“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting  internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level.  “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.” 

Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck.  Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows. 

Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”

His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?” 

No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind. 

“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.” 

The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes. 

“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.” 

You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation. 

Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic. 

“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?” 

Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–” 

You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.

Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”

Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning. 

“What the shit–“ 

The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?” 

In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!” 

Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.” 

The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”

“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.  

The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all. 

And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?” 

Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids. 

“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”

Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed. 

“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.” 

It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone. 

You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?” 

You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“

“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over. 

Had he been listening that whole time? 

Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky  may have made was a burden you did not want to bear,  and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”

Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.” 

The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”

His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.  

With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.  

“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”

The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”

Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump. 

You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose.  “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”

With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off. 

Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips. 

Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door. 

With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”

Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.  

Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”

He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”

You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.  

“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?” 

The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”

You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.” 

Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf. 

The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?” 

“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”

You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”

“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom. 

Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”

“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you. 

A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.  

The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence. 

Though, it is short lived. 

Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand. 

A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works. 

“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off. 

You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before… 

“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”

A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious. 

His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you. 

“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”

The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats. 

Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?” 

You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”

The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet. 

Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.

“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”

“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.  

Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company. 

This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence. 

Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone. 

“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content. 

“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”

“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets. 

“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.

The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.

“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.

Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.  

That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself. 

“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?” 

You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV. 

“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.” 

The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.” 

Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.” 

Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”

“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.” 

You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”

Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it. 

Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”  

Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”

“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!” 

He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?” 

“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.  

“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”

His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”

Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night. 

There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus. 

Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”  

Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing. 

“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”

“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”

“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”

A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”

“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.” 

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” 

His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face. 

Okay, you think privately, so what? 

Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt. 

If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”

“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”

Now that catches you off guard. 

Bucky… is a virgin? 

Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match. 

Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression. 

“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”

No other words come to mind. 

When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts. 

You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully. 

The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him. 

Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession. 

It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands,  and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty. 

From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer. 

Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past.  And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket. 

What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?

To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs. 

Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees. 

“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.  

The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical. 

You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”

“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.” 

“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting. 

You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”

He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“

“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”

“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.

“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”

You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.

“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”

“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through. 

Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek. 

This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance. 

You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.

He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”

“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap. 

That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth. 

There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves. 

Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face. 

“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.

There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek. 

“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.

Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”

The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes. 

Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.  

“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session. 

Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.

“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.  

You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.

“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension. 

A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time. 

Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.  

The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close. 

But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard. 

The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly. 

Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before. 

You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another. 

It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you. 

And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–” 

To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.  

Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries. 

You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.

The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss. 

You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move. 

Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous. 

It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”

Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”

Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”

Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.

“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.” 

You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin. 

The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet. 

The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt  — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.

Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.  

“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”

“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”

You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”

The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn. 

“Wha– Fuck!”

You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it. 

The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.

Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release. 

You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the  loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle. 

Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.

Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck. 

You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently. 

“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”

Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him. 

You can’t have that, though. 

Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go. 

It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in. 

You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?” 

Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.” 

“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.  

You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.” 

The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”

Something snaps within him. 

The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure. 

To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop. 

“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”

“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!” 

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed. 

“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”

The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat. 

The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”

Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness. 

After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”

“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material. 

Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”

“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.

The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”

Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”

“But–” Bucky tries. 

“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”

His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”

“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”

The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces. 

It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”

You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands. 

And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair. 

You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.

“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.” 

You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only– 

“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala. 

“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”

But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?” 

That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes. 

You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”

Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away. 

With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”

The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky. 

“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”

“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”

You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”

The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall.  “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”

A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive. 

“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.” 

That meant only one person was responsible. 

Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.  

Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night. 

I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake. 

Love ya squirt, 

Your big bro.

“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.

P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x 

Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again. 

“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”

Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain. 

Guilty as Sin?

Helllooooo!!! I am back with another smutty trainwreck of a fic. This writing thing is still pretty new to me so I hope this isn’t horrible.

I hope you enjoy it <3

Warnings: Female Body Descriptions, Smut (like a lot), Anthony likes 🐱

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton X Female! Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

As always, 18+ Minors DNI

———————————————————————

Anthony lets out a low chuckle, his hand sliding upwards to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. "I thought you liked my teasing, love." He said with a playful smile, his fingers brushing against your arousal with a calculated touch. "But I suppose you have waited long enough." He added in a seductive whisper, his mouth capturing yours in a deep and passionate kiss.

With a devilish smile, Anthony begins to trail kisses down the length of your body, stopping at the edge of the sheets as he hovered over your center. His hands caressed your thighs, gently pushing them further apart as he settled between them. His breath ghosted over your core, warm and teasing, as he let out a soft chuckle, amused by your growing anticipation.

Anthony's tongue gently glides over your core, the warmth of his mouth sending shivers down your spine as he begins to explore your body with a slow and deliberate intensity. He is in no rush, wanting to savor every moment and every sound that escapes your lips, his hands holding your thighs in place as he laps at your core, relishing the taste of you.

Anthony's tongue delves deeper, his mouth working in perfect rhythm as he alternates between long, slow strokes and quick, tantalizing flicks. Your moans and gasps only serve to fuel his desire, his grip on your thighs growing tighter as he hungrily laps at your core. His skilled ministrations are driving you to the edge, his name a breathless moan that falls from your lips over and over in growing desperation.

Anthony lifts his head from beneath the sheets to look at you with a devilish grin, his chin shiny with your arousal as he moves back up your body, propping himself on his forearm beside you. He brushes his thumb over your lips, still glistening with your wetness. "You look breathtaking like this." He whispers, his voice rough and low. "And you taste even better."

“So sweet,” He says licking his lips. “Would you like a taste?” He asks as he move his lips on top of yours. You groan as his tongue pushes into your mouth, tasting the slickness that still coats his lips. He kisses you deeply, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulls away again, his eyes dark with arousal. You can feel his hands in your hair and his body pressed deeply into yours. “Anthony.” You breathe out. “Keep going please.” You moan in between kisses.

Anthony's attention turns back to you as you speak, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "There you are," He murmurs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd kissed you senseless." He adds with a chuckle, his hand coming up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“No, not yet anyway.” You tease him. Anthony's smile widens into an even more devilish grin, raising an eyebrow in playful challenge. "Is that so, love? Shall we change that?" He purrs, his fingers trailing down your jaw to gently hold your chin, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips, his mouth eager and possessive as he claims yours with a fierce heat.

As a moan escapes from between your lips, Anthony can't help but let out a low groan against your mouth, the sound practically a growl. The noise makes your skin tingle, and you can feel his body pressing against yours even more firmly than before, the heat between the two of you growing more intense as his desire for you continues to escalate.

He continues to kiss you deeply and passionately, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you even closer, his mouth devouring yours in a way that leaves you breathless and dizzy with need.

Anthony grins against your lips, his hand sliding up to entwine itself in your hair as he deepens the kiss. His free hand pushed your thighs further apart, his fingers tracing your core in a torturously slow manner. "Of course, darling. I’m not finished with you yet." He purred, the sound of his voice alone almost enough to drive you mad with desire.

You moan softly as his fingers glide across your core, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. Your body arching into his touch, eager for more of that delicious friction. "Anthony..." You pant, your voice a low and breathless gasp as your eyes slide shut, your head tilting back in pleasure.

You can feel his fingers continue to work their magic, gently stroking your core in a manner that is both tender and arousing. He watches you closely, taking in the sight of your pleasure-filled expression with a satisfied smile. "You're so beautiful when you come undone like this, love," He rumbles, his voice tinged with a mix of adoration and pure desire. “And all for me.” He smirks down at you.

Anthony lets out a low groan as he enters you, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment as he revels in the sensation of your body around him. His forehead rests against yours, his breath coming out in short, uneven pants as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size. "God, you feel incredible, love." He whispers, his voice husky and filled with desire.

You gasp at the sudden fullness that comes with Anthony inside of you, your body responding to his touch as a wave of pleasure washes over you. His forehead presses against yours as he begins to move inside of you, his hands gently grasping at your hips and thighs in a possessive manner.

He whispers praises and curses in equal measure, his breath coming out in short gasps as he takes in the overwhelming feeling of your body wrapped around him.

He moves his hands down to rest on your hips, his fingers digging into the skin as he sets a steady pace. His mouth trails down your neck, scattering a trail of hot, wet kisses along your throat, his teeth grazing lightly over your skin. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, a soft, breathless plea for more, and he gladly obliges.

Anthony's movements become more intense, his thrusts hard and fast, each one driving you closer to the edge. His name falls from your lips in a continuous stream, a breathless gasp or moan following it each time he slams back into you. He tightens his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into the skin as he continues his relentless assault, his own release building as he brings you closer and closer to your own climax.

———————————————————————

Your eyes shot open, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as you sat up in bed, heart pounding against your chest. Your body was covered in a light layer of sweat, your breath coming out in short, erratic pants. Your bedsheets feel ablaze with the intensity of your emotions. It was just a dream? It had felt so real.

You feel a strong arm tighten around your waist, pulling you back against a warm, solid chest. Benedict's low voice rumbles behind you, groggy but filled with concern. "Darling? What's wrong?" He asks, his breath hot on your neck as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

Your heart falters as you turn and see your husband. The guilt of what you had just imagined hits you in tidal waves. “Nothing, darling. Just a bad dream, go back to sleep.” You reply giving him a kiss on the cheek.

It’s fine. You didn’t actually do anything wrong. You never actually touched Anthony, and you never would. You loved your husband, so why do you feel as guilty as sin?

Not sure if your requests are open but I just read ‘baecation’ and need like a fic where the reader goes on tour with him. And the whole dynamic with the reader and the team. Maybe the reader is a bit shy at first because her Spanish isn’t good but the boys are lovely to her and help her and she ends up getting along with them and pedri is there just like 😍😍

The Tour

Summary: A glimpse of the little moment you share with your boyfriend while on Tour.

Warnings: cursing.

A/N: I hope you like this 🤠❤️ also @gaviandgrizisgirl hi 🤠🤭

First Stop: LA

"I want a picture with the big Hollywood thing." Katrine says, smiling while you take some pictures of her.

Mikky, Katrine, and you arrived at Los Angeles a day before the team did. That was for more commodity for you.

"I want another coffee, to be honest." You laugh, the jet lag hitting you harder than expected. "Is it okay to break the diet while on vacation?"

"I break it all the time." Mikky says, you narrow your eyes, looking funny at her. "Oh don't give me that look."

"You have an excuse to break it. You're eating for two." Katrine says, taking her phone from your hands to check the pictures.

You were answering your messages, Pedro updating you about where they're, based on the map from the plane.

"Don't you think, Y/n?" Mikky asks you. You block the phone and pay attention to her. "Did you hear me?" She asks sweetly.

"No, sorry." You say, laughing lightly. "I was texting Pedro." You smile.

"Oh, sweet, young love." Katrine laughed. "I remember those times."

"What I was asking." Mikky says, grabbing your attention again. "Frenkie, Andreas, Katrine, and I are renting a house here, and at the other locations. We wanted to ask if you and Pedro wanted to stay with us."

You wanted to say yes, loving the four of them, always having fun times together. But Pedro already rented a nice space for you to stay together.

"I want to say yes, but Pedro booked a place for us to stay." You say with a pout. "We can meet for some activities."

After the quick coffee break you had, you went to check some stores, passing time till the boys landed.

When the time finally came and the boys landed and were at the hotel, you knew they got there as a cover-up, Xavi, and the team knew they'll stay with their family.

"Hola, guapa." Pedro says, lifting you up while hugging you. "I missed you." He thighs his grip on your body.

"Pepi, we saw each other like twenty-five hours ago." You laugh, kissing his neck. Hands on his hair, messing his hair.

"Jolin, se despidieron ayer y estan acuando como si hubiera pasado una vida" (Fuck, you said goodbye to each other yesterday and now you're acting like it's been a life time.) Pablo laughed, making you and Pedro laugh too. "Ven acá, guapa." (Come here) He says, opening his arms for you to hug him.

You hug him, not long after Ferran was saying hi to you. "Es que te tenemos que hablar en inglés? Joder que yo soy pésimo." (Do we have to speak with you in english? Fuck, I suck at that.)

"No, yo puedo hablar español." (No, I can speak spanish.) You laugh nervous. Your Spanish isn't the best, so you knew it was going to be a shit show if they decided to speak only Spanish.

"Entonces, cuentame." (So, tell me) Ferran says, you look over at Pedro, he's smiling, loving how his friends are messing with you. "Cómo fue el vuelo hasta acá?" (How was the flight?) He asks you.

You smiled and stared at him for a good five seconds. You open your mouth, but your mind isn't fully working. "Era. Umm. Bueno, muy relajante, si." You smile proud. (😀)

Gavi and Ferran looked at each other. You wanted to disappear because you knew that was so bad. "That's amazing. Relaxing, yes, good, yes. Amazing." Ferran says.

You happily high-five them, you knew you weren't the best but they not laughing made a difference.

"Pepi, I did it." You hug him happy. He hugs you back, kissing the top of your head. "Let's go, adiós chicos." You wave them goodbye.

You both go down the basement where the car was waiting for you. When you arrive at the house, Pedri loves the view, the golden sunset looking beautiful, making the whole place look like out of a movie.

"I know you can't eat junk food, but." You say walking to the oven, you FaceTime Rosy, asking her to help you on each step of the way, making her famous croquettes for him. "I try my best, not sure if it's good." You laugh.

"No way." He hurries next to you, trying one. "Fuck." He says, eyes rolling back. He's been resistant in order to keep his diet, missing the glorious food of his mom. "This is amazing."

You pose your hands on his shoulders, massaging the stress of the flight. "You want to know what else I did?" You whisper in his ear.

He humms at the feeling on his shoulders, relaxing him. "Hmh?" He mumbs.

"I prepared a bath for us, wanna go relax a little?" You kiss his neck, hugging him.

He turns around, kissing you, thankful for all you've done for him. "Let's go." He says smiling.

yourusername

Liked by pedri, fcbarcelona, and 350,825 others

yourusername LA moments 🍃❤️💙

View all 27,879 comments

pedri ❤️

yourusername ❤️🥺

fcbarcelona ❤️💙

Liked by you

mikkykiemeney love you 😍❤️

yourusername love you more ❤️🤭

Second stop: Dallas

"Hay un dicho, dicen que si te pones el sombrero te montas al vaquero." (there's a say, if you wear the hat you get to ride the cowboy) Pedri joked, placing the cowboy hat on you. "And you're wearing it."

"What does montar mean? And what does sombrero mean?" You ask, confused. He wanted to burst out laughing, finding you adorable. "Don't make that face. Tell me." You pout.

"I meant that there's a say, if you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy." He winks at you. You smile, blushing a little now that you understand why he placed the hat on you.

"I will, but this cowboy has to wait till we're home." You kiss him. "Now let's go pick our horse." You grabbed his hand, hurried to get to where the horses are.

Pedro took you to this horse riding place, knowing that you wanted to do that.

Once you picked your horse, Pedro decided that you ride alone, wanting for you to have the whole experience. But also riding other horse to go with you.

"I wanna sing Hannah Montana." You say, moving your shoulders at the rhythm of the song playing in your head. "You're always find a way back home" you sing loudly.

Pedro took pictures of you. The love gaze he has over you is one that no one can deny. "I don't know any Hannah songs." He confess.

"Imma show you how to dance the Hannah dance from the movie." You told him. The scene already playing in your head.

After the horse riding experience, you both got back to the house. Quickly showering and changing for the outing you had with the team.

"Do you like this outfit?" You're standing in front of the mirror, already questioning if the two piece set was ideal for the night.

You pose for him. If you can take a picture and compare his face to the scene of the movie, the mask, his heart eyes are bigger.

"You look, preciosa." He poses his hands on your hip, "fuck, you look amazing baby." He kiss you tummy, making you blush.

"I was thinking that I was a little but short." You say, messing with his hair. "Don't you think?"

"You can wear whatever you want. If someone says something, I can throw some punches." He jokes, kissing your arms and caressing you hips.

"I love you, mi amor." You kiss the top of his head. You sit on his lap, posing your hands on his cheeks. "I'm so in love with you, Pedro."

You pull him towards you, kissing him. His hands on your hips go down to your ass, squishing it. Making you moan.

"Stop," you say, pulling away, "we have to meet your friends." You kiss him back again after saying that.

"What about you riding the cowboy?" He asks, you want to say he ment that joking, but he wasn't. You knew that if you keep kissing, you both will end up between the sheets and not at the club with the rest. "Please." He begged you.

You push him back to the bed. "I guess they won't miss us for a few minutes." You start to unbutton his shirt. "Don't you think?" You say kissing his neck. Earning a moan as an answer.

yourusername

Liked by feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr, pedri, and 489,745 others

yourusername loving Texas ❤️

View all 67,862 comments

feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr yehaa? 🤣

yourusername 🤠

Pedri 🤠🐎

yourusername 🐎😏

user1 EXCUSE ME?

user2 @pedri yeah hello? 911

Last Stop: Las Vegas

"I want to start pole dance," you joke, hand in hand with your boyfriend. "Will you let me pole dance you?" You ask him.

His face was a poem, he's confused, about to laugh, but wanted to remind serious. "I take all the dancing you want me to." He jokes back.

You smile, squishing his hand a little harder. You're at the mall at Las Vegas, searching for something Fer ask you to get for him.

"Did you know that, what happen in Vegas stay in Vegas? You ask him, joking again. "I think we need to do something crazy and have an inside joke."

"So when people ask us, we tell them ~Lo que pasa en las Vegas se queda en las Vegas~?" He joke back at you. "That actually would be cool."

"We all should try this strippers show, and do body shots on each other and then skinny dip in the pool." Ansu interrupts your conversation.

All the boys and you turn your attention to him, he was nodding excited, thinking his idea was the one of a century.

"Or." Mikky says, dragging the attention away from Ansu. "We can go bowling." She smiled.

Everyone agree with her, Ansu on the other side was pouting, mad that his Vegas plan was ruined by some bowling.

"No te enojes." (Don't be mad) You say pinching his cheek. "We can do something crazy after bowling, not that crazy like going to a strip club, but crazy." You shake him by the shoulders.

"Deal." He smiles, going to the other boys to plan something else.

The boys and you create this little friendship were they take care of you, and you take care of them. They liked you and always try to make you the most comfortable.

"I like this for your mom." You say, showing him beautiful ornaments that match her style. "I think the blue one, she likes blue." You think outloud.

"I like blue." He says, kissing you cheek. "But I was thinking this over here." He points at other thing. "Maybe I should get both."

You went to the other side of the store, looking at some pink outfits. You told Pedro that before leaving, you wanted to go to the movies to see Barbie. He brushed it off, so you planned on going with Mikky while he was at training.

"That pink would look so good on you." He says, making you turn back to face him. "So you think it fit me?"

"I think every color is your color." You grab the pink shirt and put it against him to see the contrast. "But this pink is definitely your color." You kiss him.

"Then help me pick one." He grabs your hand, dragging you to the male section of the store. You were confused, knowing he wasn't going to use it more than once.

"Pedro, you're not going to get something you'll only use once." You laugh, about to go back to the women section.

"But I want to match you," he pouts, you laugh at how adorable he looks doing that. "What, you don't want to match with me? How are we supposed to see Barbie if we don't go matching?"

"What?"

"How are we supposed to see Barbie if we don't match?" He repeats.

"We?" You ask, confused. "Are we going to see Barbie?" You smile a little.

"Yes, mi amor." He nods, smiling. "I got us tickets, so after bowling tonight, we're going to do some Barbie with Mikky and Frenkie."

You hug him, loving how he's always paying attention to you and spoiling you. "Eres mi favorito." You say, hugging him.

"I better be." He jokes, hugging you back, making you laugh.

yourusername

Liked by pedri, mikkykiemeney, and 456,895 others

yourusername mojo dojo casa house 🌸💕

View all 56,863 comments

pedri you have so much Kenergy 🕺🏼

yourusername You're Kenough 💙🤭

fcbarcelona c'mon barbie let's go party 🥳 ❤️

mikkykiemeney I'm still crying 😭

yourusername same here 🤣😭

😮‍💨😮‍💨

john in orange?? 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

I Need Your Help - LN4/CL16/OP81/MV1

Another TikTok prank trend being delivered. This one is only for the tampon users though, sorry.

Imo Oscar's is the goal for a man but so entirely unrealistic.

No part 2 requests please

Lando

Lando is probably one of the most squeamish people y/n knows. The man is easily going to go fail this test of what he'd be willing to do for her. If the reaction is him passing out at the thought she'll almost definitely not be sharing it with the world.

"Lando!" Y/n calls out managing her best faked panicked voice.

"One second! One sec-I'm just-alright, I'm here what's wrong?" Lando asks with a smile but his expression drops when he sees her amazing acting skills in play and tricking him into really believing she's scared. "Baby? What's wrong?"

"I need your help..." Y/n mumbles biting her lip.

"Help? Help with what?"

"My tampon is stuck."

The amount of effort that goes into not letting a smile break out across her face. It's so much harder to make this believable that she thought.

"Your-Your what?" Lando frowns retracting back with a confused frown. "Did you just say your tampon?"

"My tampon is stuck, the string snapped and I can't get it out." Y/n states actually feeling herself really get into this as she realises how much that would actually make her panic if it really happened. "Can you help me?"

There's a long pause and for a moment y/n is beginning to get offended, but equally she sort of knew Lando wouldn't be eager.

"There would be blood?" Lando asks making her nod. "Ok, I just needed some mental preparation."

"Are you sure?" Y/n asks earning a smile a nod. "I could go to the hospital."

"No. I can do this. Not as if I've never had my fingers in you before." Lando shrugs then looking around. "So how do we do this, should you stand or sit? I feel like I don't need to look at what I'm doing."

"You don't?" Y/n questions trying to restrain her amusement at his words.

"Yeah, but what's more comfortable standing or sitting?" Lando asks moving closer making y/n step back a little panic.

"It's a prank! It's a prank." Y/n exclaims stepping back while Lando deflates. "I'm sorry, it was just a prank for TikTok. I really thought you'd tell me to fuck off really."

"Give me some credit." Lando pouts earning a hum. "Are you even on your period?"

"Not right now, no." Y/n smiles then moving to hug him and catch him in a kiss. "You passed though, good job."

Charles

Charles having no sisters means that he really has spent most of his life unaware of periods and the issues that may come with them.

He's been slightly educated throughout his time having girlfriends. But he's still not exactly the man to go to if you want an explanation of what women go through.

"Charles..." Y/n mumbles walking into his sim room.

"Hey, baby. I won't be long, I'm just finishing up."

"Oh." Y/n nods actually feeling bad for interrupting him when he's almost done.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm just-I'll wait. It's ok."

"No. I'm done. I'm done. What's wrong?" Charles questions stopping the sim and turning to look at her.

"I have a problem and I need your help but I need you to just not freak out ok?" Y/n swallows thickly making him pull a face.

This man could not hide his feelings if he was forced to wear a mask to cover it.

"What is it?"

"My tampon is stuck and I need help to get it out." Y/n states making Charles pull an expression that she can't even stop herself laughing at it, it's like she's just asked him to murder a child.

"IT's stuck? How is it stuck?"

"The string snapped-Please, Charles I'm freaking out and I've been trying on my own and I can't do it." Y/n panics making him stand up.

He will almost certainly be traumatised, he knows that, but he'll be damned if he's going to let his girlfriend get upset and panic like she is.

"Ok. I will help...We should in the bathroom. It will get messy, yes?" Charles questions making her smile a little and nod.

He gets her into the bathroom before she finally caves into telling him it's a prank when he drops and moves away while she laughs a little.

"You're so cute. Honestly you were so ready." Y/n laughs shaking her head at him.

"I was so scared. I thought I might hurt you." Charles grimaces while she coos at him and moves to hug him lightly.

"So cute."

Oscar

Going as far to say that Oscar might actually do this just if she said she's too lazy to of it herself would not be an understatement. He's so unbothered and having sisters with such strong maternal figures in his mum and grandma. Anything of a womanly issue is something he's happy to help y/n handle.

So this was going to be an easy test for him to pass with flying colours.

"Oscar, can you help me?" Y/n asks making him look up from his phone.

"Help you with what?"

"My tampon string snapped and it's stuck-I've tried and I can't get it out." Y/n mumbles making him smile.

"Yeah, of course I can." Oscar nods standing up. "Is it hurting?"

"You're really just going to do it for me like that?"

"You need my help and I love you, so I'm going to help you." Oscar smiles then hugging her and lifting her up to carry her. "Do you want to lie down and I can do it?"

"No. No. It was just a prank. You're actually the most perfect guy ever." Y/n grins kissing him a couple times.

"I'd do it even if it wasn't stuck."

"I know you would. Because you actually are the best man ever. Love you."

"I love you too." Oscar smiles then sighing. "Well...if that's not happening. Since I have hold of you, what should we do now?"

Max

Y/n loves pranking Max, but this one was one he may not catch onto so quickly. But she also just has no idea as to how he'll react at all.

"Maxie..." Y/n whines rushing into the bedroom where he's getting ready. "Help. Help. Help. Please help."

"What? What? What's happening? Help with what?" Max questions looking behind her as if she's being chased. "Is it the cats?"

"No. My tampon is stuck. It's stuck inside me. I've been trying and it's stuck and I don't know what to do." Y/n panics actually feeling like she deserves an award for the level of acting going on here right now. But she has to really sell it for Max to believe it for more than a second.

"It's stuck?" Max frowns looking very much concerned. "How is it stuck?"

"Well I can't get it out, so to me that means it's stuck."

"Ok...do you need me to get it out?" Max asks not looking all that comfortable but like he's willing to do it if needs be.

"Would you give it a go?" Y/n asks making Max look at her for a beat.

"Yeah, of course. If you need my help, I'll help." Max nods then frowning. "I'll wash my hands first. Because I think that's important, right?"

"Yeah, ok." Y/n smiles trying to withhold some level of laughter.

Max disappears and y/n pouts a little at the fact he's being that conscious of precautions. The man is always thinking of how to do things the "right" way but she really wasn't expecting that from him.

"Alright, are you ok?" Max asks making her smile and nod at him before he kisses her. "You direct me. wWe should probably get you somewhere comfortable right? Should I get a towel for you so we don't make too much of a mess?"

"No. It's ok. this was all just a prank and maybe a bit of a test to see if you would do this." Y/n smiles making him sigh and groan at the fact she fooled him and he actually fell for it.

"I was really prepared to go rummaging." Max states making her jaw drop.

"Hey, there's not enough room to be rummaging anywhere, thank you very much." Y/n laughs then squealing when Max half tackles her onto the sofa and just lays his full weight on top of her. "Ah!"

"You're getting too good at acting. I'm never going to trust you when you ask for help again. I really believed you." Max frowns while she just laughs. "Did I pass?"

"Yes, and extra points for washing your hands because I didn't even think about asking you to do that first."

Ladies, gents and non binary pals. Everyone who feels like their boobs are too small, too big or down right bad:

You are gorgeous, you are beautiful. No matter what the size of your girls are.

It almost seems like women can’t win to me. Small boobs are criticised, big boobs are sexualised, lopsided boobs are termed as “unnatural” when they are really the most common and natural thing out there.

So 🖕respectfully fuck the haters. You are stunning with your small boobs, big boob, droopy boobs, perky boobs, no cleavage, lotsa cleavage or whatever else you may have. Those entitled men and women who feel the need to make you feel bad about yourself clearly have problems of their own.

Don’t let anyone make you feel bad about yourself ever 🤝😤.

THIS ^^

She's Not Here- Part 2

This is the second part in this Evan Buckley mini series, thank you all for the amazing feedback on part one. I had so much fun writing this next part and I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: While Evan is on a long weekend at work, (Y/n) takes their girls out with their family. Things don't go to plan when something happens to one of their daughters.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Buck!" He shrugged off Eddie's touch and bolted from the table, checking his pockets for his phone and his wallet. He needed to find his keys from his locker and leave. He had to get down there and get in that shopping centre. Evan needed to scout round every inch of that building. Every corner, every crevace, every hidden crook and cranny, he needed to look round them all. He needed to watch and search every person who tried to leave and every car needed to be stopped and checked. "Buck what's going on?" "One of my daughters is missing."

"Where's my daughter?" Anger, agony and pure, unrivalled chaos burst to life in Evan's voice.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his shoulders hunched up near his neck and his chest puffed out with a deep breath that made him feel like he was about to combust.

He could feel his phone burning a hole in his back pocket. He had been spammed with messages from Bobby, Maddie, both his parents but nothing from (Y/n). All he wanted was for her to tell him that they found Minnie, hidden away in some corner or wandering off with someone from another station in a similar uniform to his.

Evan would settle for being told Minnie had been taken by a stranger but someone had found her and brought her back to safety.

His phone was locked but there was the most recent picture of Minnie that he had, waiting to be shown to any security guard or police officer who needed it. He was ready to show his picture to everyone he passed and demand they find his little girl.

He could see the officer's eyes raking him up and down, assessing whether or not Evan was actually the dad of the missing girl. But the fury in his eyes gave it away and told him if he refused to let Evan inside that shopping centre, they would have a bigger situation out here.

"Name?" His voice held a small waver as he looked up at Evan who was a good few metres taller than him. They had to be certain.

"Evan Buckley. Where's my daughter, have you found her yet?"

"We haven't located her yet… Seargent, I have Mr Buckley on his way in." He waved for Evan to follow him and headed inside the shopping centre entrance.

Evan followed closely behind, his irritation growing with each passing second. How long had his daughter been missing? Was she alright? Was someone with her? Was Minnie wandering this place- or God forbid, the streets, all alone? No. Someone would have seen her wandering alone, they would have stopped her, questioned her, tried to help her or look after her. No one would let her get far on her own.

Someone had to be with her, whether they were a friend or an enemy. Evan didn't like either option.

"Then where's my wife?"

"Right this way."

As they walked down the wide hall, Evan let his eyes dart around him. Shops were still open. People were still fluttering in and out. But out of the shops, in the middle of the centre, people were confined to the sides. They were told to walk in single file and stay close close to the wall. No one could wander or flutter about the middle of the floor. They needed clear views of every angle to find Minnie.

Security were posted near every shop, not letting people in or out if they had a child.

Evan shuddered when he heard an announcement rattle through the speakers that almost deafened him.

"If anyone sees a little girl, Minnie Buckley, three years old. Wearing a purple flower dress, white tights and red shoes with a Disney headband on, they should stop her and alert security immediately."

That gave Evan some sort of hint, at least now he knew what she was wearing. The last time he saw any of his girls had been Friday morning when he kissed Minnie and Evie goodbye and dropped Lois and Ellie at school. He had spoken to them last night to say goodnight when they went to bed, but he hadn't seen them. He didn't know what they were wearing, what hairstyles they had today or what their plans had been for today.

Evan saw his family before the officer got close to them.

He bypassed the shorter man and started into a run, pelting down the hall until every set of eyes were on him and people started to panic that he was the culpret with Minnie.

There they were. His mother, sat with an arm around Maddie, both of them red-eyed and looking down at the table as if it would somehow give them the answers they wanted. The blushing pink pram he recognised was next to his mother and he figured his youngest girl was swaddled away in there. He prayed she was.

When his eyes set on (Y/n), he could feel his heart breaking all over again. He felt his heart impale itself on his ribs, wanting to bleed out and commit his body to the ground then and there.

She was sat with her forehead propped up on her hand, her arm trembling, her upper body hunched over the table. Tears streaked down her face, trembles set in all across her body sending her shoulders rocking back and forth.

"Daddy!" Ellie, who had been sat with her chair pulled as close to (Y/n)'s as she could, ripped out of her mother's arms and bolted from the table. Even as she heard her mum cry out and hear her aunt gasp in panic, she bolted across the polished floor.

As soon as she bolted, Lois looked up, located Evan and subsequently set off into a run for him too.

Evan crouched down and held his arms out, scooping the pair of them up, one in each arm until they were cocooned into his chest. He smothered his lips against Ellie's temple, then kissed Lois's cheek as he stood up to his full height and lifted the girls up. Their arms circled around his neck and held him so tightly he couldn't breathe, but he didn't want to.

Evan didn't want to blink, breathe, move or eat or scream until Minnie was back. He didn't want to carry on dwindling through the minutes, the hours, the days. He wanted everything to stop until his third daughter was here and safe in his arms.

"I'm here. It's okay, it's okay girls, I'm here." He nuzzled his face into Lois's hair and took a second to breathe deeply and hold them as close as he could. He wanted them encased into his chest, hidden behind his ribs with his heart so he could keep them safe.

He started walking forwards, the girls in his arms, until he reached the table they were all sat at.

Security were posted around them, police officers were filtering in and out of the food court and milling about the place, trying to set up a plan to search and locate Minnie. If she was even still in the centre at all. But at least the food court had been evacuated. Only their family was in here with the officers, somewhere they could sit and wait in agony but with some sense of privacy.

Evan carefully eased Lois down into a chair and set Ellie on her feet next to her and he took the time to kiss their foreheads again and whisper that it was okay. Because he would make sure of it. Evan would do anything within his power to make sure everything turned out okay.

Tears burned in the corners of his eyes and his heart started to falter and skip a few beats when he crouched down in front of (Y/n).

He nudged her knees to the side and crouched between her thighs that caged him in and grounded him to her. His hands feathered up and down her thighs until she looked at him.

A single tear jumped free from the end of her nose and Evan could see the tracks slithered down her face from how badly she had been crying.

Why did he go in this weekend?

When Maddie texted, why didn't he just talk to Bobby and try and get today off? Why didn't he try harder to get off work earlier today so he could be here with them? Minnie might not have wandered- or someone might not have taken her, if Evan had been with them.

"She's s-still not here." (Y/n) brushed her sleeve against her nose and beneath her eyes to try and stop her face from feeling so tight and taut.

But when she looked back down at Evan, she could feel another tidal wave washing over her. She reached her arms out and wrapped them around his neck and slid forward until she almost fell off her chair and onto his lap. She felt him push upwards so they were level and he let her head slump onto his shoulder.

His arm circled around her waist and pulled her tightly into his chest while his right hand moved to cup the back of her neck. He smothered his lips against her temple and brushed her hair back behind her ear.

"We're gonna find her, okay? We're gonna go find her and take all our girls home."

(Y/n) brushed her nose against Evan's neck and tried to take a deep breath, but all she could do was wheeze and croak small, shallow gulps of air. Having him here made a difference, though. She could feel her heartbeat thinning out, it wasn't throbbing in her temple or pulsing beneath her skin anymore. She could close her eyes for a few seconds now, instead of look around and try not to blink in case she missed a potential sight of her baby girl.

She could feel Evan's fingers gliding up and down her back and she stayed tucked up into his chest, pressing her face as close to his neck as she could until she could feel his thundering heartbeat.

He kissed the side of her head and spared a glance over at his mum and sister. This wasn't how he wanted to meet with their mum. He hadn't seen her in over six months. The last thing Evan wanted was to meet under horrific, uncertain circumstances like this. And he hated to see Maddie in such a state of distress.

She was usually the epitomy of calm and collected. She stayed calm all those years she was with Doug. She put on a brave face for Evan, trying not to let him see what was going on and how frightened or hurt or uncertain she felt. When Maddie was at work, she remained calm even when the 118 were involved in collisions or dangerous situations. She powered through and helped them.

Not today. Today, his sister was crying, rocking back and forth and about to have a panic attack because where was her niece? Where was that little toddler who brightened up a room and made everyone smile, no matter what mood they were in? How had someone managed to get away with her? How had she slipped away from them in less than three minutes without someone stopping her or seeing or noticing?

How did something like this happen?

"Buck. (Y/n)."

Evan lifted his head and he felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest when he looked across the food court and saw his mother in law. Athena. Just the person they needed in a crisis like this to help them through it and find their little girl.

"Here we go, baby. We'll find her now, hm?" Evan's hands moved to cup (Y/n)'s face and he gently lifted her head from his shoulder so he could look up at her. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, tasting the saltwater tears tracing across his tongue.

His hands moved down to her waist and he helped her up and let her lean into him when he noticed her knees were close to giving way.

"It's nanny Nash." Ellie murmured quietly but when she tried to get up, Evan reached an arm out and gently nudged her to sit down on the same chair as Lois. He shook his head when she started to whine and his stern expression and broken eyes told her not to try and see Athena. Not yet.

"I want you both to stay here where I can see you. Do not move away from this table, at all. You understand?"

Both girls meekly nodded and stayed cuddled together, squished on the green plastic chair opposite their nan and aunt. And Lois turned to her left and leaned to look in the pram, checking her youngest sister was still asleep and okay.

Evan couldn't have either of the girls coming over and talking to Athena, not when she was here on business to find Minnie. And he didn't want them leaving this table. He knew security was gathered around and every exit was watched and under lockdown, but he didn't want them moving. He needed all his girls where he could see them so he didn't have to panic about losing another girl.

His arms curled around (Y/n)'s waist and he pulled her back up against his chest with his lips against the back of her head. They headed over towards Athena and as soon as they were within reach, Athena reached out and gripped (Y/n)'s hand.

She could see the panic and the fear swirling within her step-daughter's eyes and her face was a bundle of emtions too vast and too many to reason with.

"Okay honey, I've been on the phone to your dad, he's on his way down here now. And he's going to do a quick canvas of the streets, just as a precaution. The officers have run me through the timeline and what's happened."

She gave (Y/n)'s hand a tight squeeze and ran her other hand up and down her arm. Athena had been in this situation hundreds of times, consoling parents, calming them down. Telling them everything was going to be okay. She had seen parents reuinited with their children and watched others fall apart when their children were never found or the worst outcome happened.

But a case like this had never been personal. She had never had a missing child be someone in her own family; one of her granddaughters, no less.

"What do we do now? No one's found her and this place is on lockdown, I'll go roam the streets if I need to, what's the plan?" Evan knew his mother in law would have a plan.

She was experienced in these situations and she knew the best course of action, but Evan wasn't a fan of waiting around. And they all knew if Athena tried to tell him not to help or get involved, he would go against her wishes anyway.

He would drive round the streets and look for her, he would scour the whole city if he had to. Someone just needed to point him in the right direction and off he would go, looking for his baby girl.

He needed her back.

"Just, try and stay calm Buck, please. I want you both to come with me to the security office so we can find her on the cameras and track her movements. That will tell us whether she is still in the centre, and if she is with someone. I can't imagine she'd be on her own, not willingly and not after this place has been swarming with security."

Athena wouldn't believe Minnie would willingly wander off alone, she was too young and nervous for that. And after all the announcements, the security rattling round and now the police, if Minnie was on her own they would have found her. She had to be with someone.

Evan nodded and gave (Y/n)'s hips a squeeze. This was good. They could see who they should be looking for and where they needed to check for Minnie. It had been just less than an hour since she went missing, if they were quick they could go and get her. They hoped.

"Seargent Grant?"

Athena let go of (Y/n)'s hand and turned to the side, looking at a younger officer who was trying to wave her towards him.

But (Y/n) saw what he was holding.

She ripped out of Evan's arms, stumbled past Athena and snatched the item before he could hide it from her or try to give it to Athena in secret.

"Baby, baby what is it?"

Evan pushed forward and latched his hands onto (Y/n)'s hips again so he could look over her shoulder. His lungs quaked in his chest and he couldn't breathe. Suddenly stricken at a bundle of thoughts of what it could be. Was it part of Minnie's clothing? Was it her shoe? Was it a randsom note or a picture?

It was Minnie's headband. The one with the mouse ears stitched on and a bright red, glittering bow in the centre. The one Evan had bought for her and had last seen her wearing on Friday morning. This was their way of finding her.

They would of been able to spot her in a crowd wearing these. The security cameras would pinpoint the toddler since she wore these all day. She wore them almost every day. Since Evan put them on her head Friday morning, she only took them off to get a bath and go to sleep.

She would scream if someone tried to take them off her or knocked them off. Minnie wouldn't leave them behind or go anywhere without them.

"Evan, s-she wouldn't take them off… Oh God,"

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. Her eyes zoned in with tunnel vision until the glittering, blood red bow was all she could see, think and imagine.

Her baby was lost somewhere, without these. That made her so much harder to spot in a crowd. She would be crying that she had lost them. She would be crying for her parents, her sisters, her aunt, her family. Something bad had happened to her and they weren't any closer to finding her.

(Y/n) held the headband so tightly the plastic started to cut into the palm of her hand. She didn't realise her knees had caved in until Evan's arms bound tight around her middle and he wrenched her into his chest before she went down to the floor.

She deadlocked the headband to her chest, binding her arms around it until the band was almost imbedded into her skin. Her head flopped forward as she began to sob but she felt like her heart was being torn out when she felt Evan's lips against the side of her head and realised he was crying too.

"She… I…"

"Where did you find them?" Evan's eyes were full of malice when they darted over to the officer stood behind Athena.

He pulled (Y/n) closer and tried to stand up, holding her tighter when her legs continued to shake and wobble. He could feel her shoulders shaking, her wheezing, croaky breaths. And when she turned her head and pressed her face into his neck, he wanted to scream. His wife shouldn't be in this state of distress, his daughter shouldn't be missing, his other girls shouldn't be frightened and traumatised.

"Where the fuck did you get them? They belong to our daughter! Where were they?!" Evan's voice rose until he was almost shouting and he could feel his voice travelling around the walls and bouncing off the glass ceiling.

Suddenly it didn't matter if the girls heard him or if he panicked the rest of his family. All Evan cared about was finding Minnie. They had to know where her headband was found.

"On the search, just outside the East exit." He pointed to their right but he shrunk back when (Y/n) all but screamed and Athena pushed him away.

"She's gone- Evan…"

Evan turned (Y/n) around in his arms, keeping his right arm around her waist while his other hand cradled the back of her head. His fingers knotted in her hair and he smothered his wet lips against her burning temple. Tears burned his face like acid rain and he started to sway them from side to side, quietly humming and shushing her.

"No, no baby she's not gone. We're gonna find her…" His eyes lifted to lock with Athena. "Bobby's not here yet, tell him to circle around."

"I will, now we need to go and check those security cameras. She clearly isn't alone which is what we want if she's out in the streets. Let's find out which direction she's gone, when they left, and who we need to be looking for."

He curled his hand and wove his fingers into (Y/n)'s hair, gently tilting her head back from his neck so he could look down at her. He brushed his fingers delicately over the side of her face and swiped his thumb across her lower lip.

"I'm gonna get Maddie and mum to take the girls home, they're scared. That way we can stay here and find Minnie, okay?"

He didn't want the girls to have to hang around in this bad situation. They didn't need to see their parents getting distressed and panicked like this. And they didn't need to watch them flutter about this place along with the police and security, trying to find Minnie. It would be easier for them and safer if they went home and tried to calm down and get settled.

That way, (Y/n), Evan and Athena could all focus their attention on Minnie without having to worry about checking on Lois and Ellie or settling Evie for a nap or calming her down.

And a miniscule piece of Evan's heart knew he needed the girls to be away from here in case they got bad news. If they found Minnie and it wasn't good. If they watched someone snatch her on the security tapes. If they couldn't get her back.

The girls couldn't witness that.

Evan could see all the bad thoughts running round in (Y/n)'s mind through her frantic eyes that couldn't stay focused on anything. She clutched the headband like it was her lifeline. When she nodded, Evan unravelled his arms from her and left her leaning into Athena so he could go back to the table all the girls in his family were sat at.

His hands found Maddie's shoulders and he leaned over the back of her chair, hovering his lips over her ear so the girls wouldn't hear.

"They found her headband outside… someone's got her. Can you take the girls home for me, if we stay and check security tapes?"

The hairs on the back of Maddie's neck started to prickle and stand on end and a fresh wave of goosebumps rose over her skin. She could feel her blood turning cold and disappearing down to her toes that were tingling and going numb in her shoes. They found her headband. She had managed to get outside before every exit of the shopping centre had been closed. They tried to lock her in but she got out somehow. Someone took her away.

She couldn't find her voice, so she settled on nodding. Her lips pressed into a thin line to stop a frown and she swallowed down her tears, she didn't want to worry the girls anymore than this.

Evan kissed her temple and moved to crouch down beside the table, resting between the chair the girls were sat on and Maddie who was sat on his right. He leaned his right arm on the table and moved his left hand to hold Lois's trembling hand in his palm.

"I want you all to go home with aunt Maddie and gran, you don't need to be here. But me and mum need to stay and get Minnie, so you need to be good for me, okay?"

Evan rolled his lips into a thin line when Lois wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to his chest, crying out in agony. It was almost as if he'd told her he was leaving for weeks instead of hours. But then again, Evan didn't know when he or (Y/n) would be able to go back home. If they didn't find Minnie soon, would he really be okay going home without her?

He would end up roaming the streets with Bobby, sending (Y/n) home to wait with the girls. Evan couldn't go home if one of his babies was missing, he wouldn't rest or sit down without her.

"Are you sure?" Maddie rested her hand on her brother's shoulder and leaned over to kiss his temple. She knew it was the right thing to do, but her heart didn't want to leave him and (Y/n) here. She wanted to stay and help search, but she knew none of the girls would settle with Margaret or Phillip. They needed her.

"Daddy, we don't wanna go without you. Can't we stay-"

"No baby girl, you can't stay with me I'm sorry. You need to go home, Maddie's gonna look after you, you'll be safe I swear." He kissed the top of her head repeatedly and moved to do the same with Ellie. "If you need us or you just wanna talk, you just call me, okay? We'll see you soon."

It took all the strength Evan had within him to pull away from his girls and take a step back so they couldn't cling to him. Their eyes stared up at him, full of pain, fear and unshed tears that were now tracing down their cheeks.

"Call me when you get them home." He looked between his mum and sister until they both nodded. He had to know when they were home or else Evan's mind would be split between panicking about Minnie and the rest of his girls. He needed them to be safe so his focus could be on Minnie.

Moving round behind the seats, Evan leaned over the pram and kissed Evie's temple. She was taking another power nap and Evan was glad. The last thing they wanted was the toddler crying and panicking too, if she could remain calm and settled then that would be a blessing for everyone.

When he approached (Y/n), his hands found her shoulders and his lips found the back of her head. When he nodded, Athena took the lead and led them towards the lift.

They had security tapes to check.

(Y/n) couldn't keep her eyes in focus. It didn't matter how hard she tried or how she scolded herself.

Minnie needs you! Look at the screen! Find your daughter in that sea of people.

All her eyes wanted to do was go down to stare at the headband tightly crumpled up against her chest. She was holding it so tightly the plastic was starting to cut through her shirt and imbed into her sternum like she wanted to tuck it into her ribcage and keep it safe with her heart. Keep it safe for Minnie.

Her forehead pressed up against Evan's razor cut jaw and she could feel herself focusing on how his fingers were feathering up and down her hip, trying to calm her down. It was doing the trick, but it was also distracting her. She was supposed to be looking through the tapes to find Minnie, but she couldn't.

She didn't want to, in fear of what she was going to find. Who would be walking away with her daughter? Why would they be taking her away?

Had they just taken her hand and walked her out of here? Had they picked her up? Did they smother her cries or pretend she was a child having a tantrum? Did Minnie go willingly or did she put up a fight and cry out for her mum who was nowhere to be found?

All the questions sent (Y/n)'s body into spasms and trembles. And when Athena pointed out the tape that showed their group going into the clothing store, (Y/n) turned away.

She didn't want to see herself letting Minnie run off. She didn't want to see her family turn their backs for one second and have Minnie snatched away from them.

She could feel Evan leaning over her left shoulder to scrutinise the tape, watching all the girls of his family split apart and wander around in pairs.

"Slow down that tape, she went missing around that time upstairs." Athena pointed to a screen on the left. At least four other officers were crowded into the room. They were going to go through each security camera in the area, one by one, tracking Minnie's movements.

"Minnie."

Evan tilted his head to the right and kissed (Y/n)'s temple, unable to bring his eyes away from the screen Athena was looking at. There was their girl, just about to dart away from his mother when she had her back turned.

"Stop!"

Evan's eyes managed to tear from the screen and look down at (Y/n) when she jolted forward. She was looking at a different screen. One of the ones on the right in the bottom corner. Her hands lunged out and patted the screen, drawing a circle with the pad of her finger around Minnie.

The security officer sat just in front of Evan was quick to pause the tape, and all eyes went to that screen.

There she was. Hidden in plain sight. Her hair, thin as the first layer of snow and straight as a ruler until it crimped at the very ends that touched her shoulders. Her hand, gripped tightly by a young woman, not too much older than (Y/n) herself.

Minnie was leaning backwards like she was trying to pull away or wanted to turn around and run back to her family. Tears were streaked down her face and her lips were parted like she was in the middle or about to burst into a sob.

They were stood in front of an exit that led out onto the street. And right there, as the frame was paused in motion, Minnie's headband was halfway down the back of her head, about to drop onto the floor.

That exit led out onto the street. It didn't lead into the multistory carpark that belonged to the shopping centre. Maybe they were walking on foot. That would slow them down; she couldn't take Minnie far on foot. She couldn't have gotten far in the hour that Minnie had been missing, if they didn't get straight into a car, that meant there was a better chance of getting her back.

"Play it slowly, frame by frame."

She dragged her out. The woman dragged Minnie out the door like she was a child having a tantrum who she was taking back home.

No one stopped her.

How could they? If (Y/n) had been passing by, she wouldn't have the courage or the nerve to stop another woman and her child. It wasn't normal to stop women when their children were having a tantrum. Even if Minnie had been screaming that she wanted her mummy or her aunt or even her sister. People passing by would presume the woman was Minnie's guardian, her aunt or her babysitter or someone familiar rather than a stranger dragging her away.

"Where's the nearest camera after that one?"

The guard pointed at the same screen but switched the video feed to the camera posted outside the exit.

The woman swooped down, hoisted Minnie up onto her hip, and walked down the street as if nothing was wrong.

"I want all cameras down that street, any shops, any traffic cameras. Centred around half past two, find out where she went after that street. This is good, we have a suspect and a direction and they're on foot, that gives us an advantage." Athena gave (Y/n)'s hand a reassuring squeeze, but (Y/n) didn't feel so relieved.

It didn't matter that it was a woman who had taken Minnie. There were thousands of derranged, twisted women in the world. That woman could have taken Minnie because she wanted a child, it could be innocent. She could have lost a child and wanted a replacement, or thought she was looking after Minnie or saving her from something.

Or she could have chosen Minnie because she wanted to hurt her. She could be doing anything to her by now.

(Y/n) wanted her baby back this very second.

"Baby- baby wait!" A growl tore from the back of Evan's throat as he set of into a sprint when (Y/n) bolted.

She flung the door open and flew out the room with her bag bashing against her waist and Minnie's headband still clutched to her chest. She was getting her back. They were going to open the shopping centre again and let people leave now they knew for certain that Minnie wasn't in here. (Y/n) was going to leave the exact same way that woman had and try to find her. She didn't know how and she didn't care, she just wanted to find her.

Evan's hands curled into fists at his sides and he could feel Athena hot on his heels as they darted out of the room and down the corridor to the left.

His heart jumped into his throat when he watched (Y/n)'s foot slip on the top step and he cringed, biting down on his tongue at the thought of her falling down. But she regained her balance and stumbled down the stairs two at a time, flinging herself around the corner to propell down the second flight and get down to the ground floor.

All the air got caught at the back of (Y/n)'s throat when she stumbled onto the ground floor and felt a hand curl around her upper arm. She tripped, sliding back on her heel until her shoulders crashed into a tense, hard chest and a familiar set of strong arms bound around her waist.

"Baby," Evan rasped into her hair, his voice deep and guttural as he breathed harshly against the top of her head. "Take a breath. We don't know which way she went after that road, and that was nearly an hour ago."

When (Y/n) tried to break out of his arms, Evan tightened them around her and pulled her back. He moulded his chest over her back and leaned forward, smothering his face against her neck. But he lifted his eyes to look across when Athena stood in front of them.

"We have people checking cameras, honey. Let's wait and see what they find and where she went-"

"I can't- I can't wait here," (Y/n) tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder and looked up at him with those big, pleading eyes that made his stomach flip and sent his heart reeling. He would do anything she asked when she looked at him like that and they both knew it. "Evan… we need to look for her, she was crying."

Biting down on his lower lip, Evan looked from his wife to his mother in law. "Could we do a drive round? If Minnie lost her headband, maybe, fuck… maybe she lost a shoe or something? We can at least look, can't we?"

It was possible.

Minnie wasn't old enough to know about leaving items behind like a trail of breadcrumbs for people to find her. But if she was struggling, what's to say that she didn't lose a shoe? Or they could still be wandering the streets, trying to get away from the police that would be scattered round looking for them.

A drive round couldn't hurt, it would keep them busy and out of trouble and occupy their minds. (Y/n) and Evan couldn't wait around here doing nothing and they couldn't sit at the police station either and wait for news. It would drive them both insane.

"Okay. But I'll drive you."

***

Leaning to the left, (Y/n) slumped her head on Evan's shoulder. She felt unbelievably tired. Her eyes were aching and yearning to get some rest, her stomach felt heavy and her heart had turned to a stone, thudding and bashing against her ribs until her chest was going to collapse.

But she couldn't close her eyes. What if she missed something? What if when she closed her eyes, they passed by Minnie or something that belonged to her, or a clue?

They had been driving for almost half an hour now, and (Y/n) was losing momentum and the will to be in the car. It wasn't as bad as waiting at the station, but being confined in here, not able to do anything to or for Minnie, was just as bad.

Every now and then, Athena was getting updates from the security cameras and from tips people were calling in to the station.

People had seen a woman carrying a crying toddler. Someone had said they saw a woman in a corner shop whose child was crying for their mummy and that only made (Y/n) breakdown all over again.

Athena had driven down the route they knew for certain the woman and Minnie had walked when they left the shopping centre. But now they were driving around slowly, cruising the streets for clues, to pass the time, to wait until someone called in with another sighting.

And Bobby was driving round too. He had been driving for over an hour, going in circles, passing the same streets, going past the shopping centre at least ten times. Waiting for a sighting of his little granddaughter.

*Any news??? XX

Evan looked down at his phone but his eyes were glossy and cracked like marbles and his face was void of any expression. He had no update to give his sister. His mum. His daughters. Nothing of interest, nothing that would give them any sense of hope.

*Nothing yet. Driving round to find her, a woman carried her out the shopping centre. XX

"Why take her?"

Looking down, Evan pursed his lips and looped his right arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders. He let her head slump off his shoulder and down onto his chest and he smothered his lips into her hair when she bound her arms around his torso. She finally let go of the headband, but only to place it delicately on Evan's knee.

The band weighed down on Evan like a ton of bricks had crushed down on his leg. He could feel it burning, melting into his skin and it made his lungs ache like he had breathed in poisonus gas.

"She wasn't in danger, she wasn't wandering… or lost, and I, I'm not a bad mum-"

"I don't know why, baby. But we're getting her back safe." Evan couldn't go down that road. Not yet.

He couldn't bear to imagine what had gone through that woman's mind to make her snatch his daughter like this.

Minnie hadn't been in danger or wandering alone without her family, she had been less than twenty feet from her grandma when that woman took her. She wasn't in danger of being run over or hurt or snatched by anyone else. Minnie wasn't an unloved child, lost and forgotten or abused by her family. And (Y/n) wasn't a neglectful mother.

There was no tangible reason to take Minnie, no explanation or reasoning that could explain what this woman had done to them today.

When her phone began to ring, Athena swiped across and put it on speaker. "Bobby, whereabouts are you, love?" He had been calling every now and then to say where he had checked and whereabouts he was going next so they didn't go down the same streets together, they needed to canvas a wider area.

"Down fifty-seventh street… I've spotted her."

"Where is she? Is she okay?!" (Y/n) surged forward and latched her hands around the passenger seat in front of her while she felt Evan's hand slide down to her lower back. He sat up straighter, more alert beside her as they all waited for Bobby to respond.

Athena turned on her siren and lights and started to speed up. They were only two minutes away from that street.

"I swear it was her, with a young woman. They got into a taxi but he won't pull over so I'm following him. If you head up the top end of the street you can cut them off."

Bobby wasn't an officer, he wasn't in a police car or the fire station truck of the ambulance. Flashing his headlights was only annoying and probably panicking the taxi driver in front of him. And Bobby couldn't overtake and cut them off with oncoming traffic and the taxi speeding up to get away from him.

He knew it was Minnie. He watched a woman bundle a crying toddler into the back of the taxi and he just knew. He wasn't quick enough to stop them before the car drove off, so he did the next best thing and sped after them.

"We're on our way. This is 7-2-7-L-30, in pursuit we have a sighting of Minnie Buckley in a taxi on fifty-seventh street, back up required."

Athena could see and hear Evan tapping his knuckles against the window out of anxious habit. His hand was curled into a tight fist and if he applied pressure, he might just break the window.

"You both need to stay in the car until I can make sure it's Minnie and get her out safely. Do you understand me?"

With a deep breath, (Y/n) looked up at Evan and she knew. She just knew by that look in his eyes. She didn't want to wait in here and he wasn't going to sit back and wait. The moment Athena stopped the car, Evan would bolt. He would go and get their daughter back because this had been a day from Hell and he couldn't have anything happen to her. He couldn't have his daughter hurt or scarred for life by this. He had to have her back in his arms.

The couple braced themselves on the front seats when Athena swerved to the left and blocked off the end of the street. She put the door locks on and climbed out the car, effectively locking her children in the back of the car so they couldn't cause a scene.

"Evan-"

"She's not locking me in here. I'll go get her, baby."

(Y/n) leaned to the right and deadlocked her arms around her chest when Evan pushed forward. He swung his long legs between the front seats, thankful Athena didn't have a barrier in between the back and front of this car. He clambered roughly into the drivers seat and stumbled out into the street. He wasn't waiting, not when his daughter needed him.

"LAPD, turn off the engine and step out of the car." Athena held her gun low at her thigh and tapped her free hand on the driver's window. She could see Bobby's car parked across the road to block the taxi in so there was no escape. Though they both doubted the taxi driver was in on this or would help a kidnapper escape.

When the driver complied and slowly stepped out of the car, Athena pointed to the pavement. "Stand over here please."

Evan held his breath deep in his lungs and walked at a distance from Athena, whose back was turned to him. He didn't want to get her into trouble but he didn't want her to stop him either. He just wanted his baby girl.

His eyes darted to the right and for a split second, he watched Bobby get out of his car. But then Evan's eyes went to the back door of the taxi.

A woman climbed out.

A young woman, younger than Evan, at least. She had shoulder-length black hair and a fringe that almost reached her eyes that were rabid like a wild animal caught in a snare. But when she reached down and grabbed the hand of a little girl who scurried out the taxi, Evan saw red.

A purple dress with flowers. Plain white tights that were now ripped and black around the knees. Red shoes that were lathered in mud and about to drop off her little feet. That pencil-straight hair that was so thin if it had been blonde, she would of looked bald.

Those big doe eyes made Evan see red. His baby girl. That was his daughter, and she was trying to take her away from him.

The woman began to run. She hurried as fast as she could to the pavement, dragging Minnie with her who kept falling and scuffing along the road, unable to keep up and she clearly didn't want to either. She wanted to stop, she wanted to go home. She was lost, on a street she didn't know with a strange woman and she was hurt. She wanted to go home.

A blood-curdling cry left Minnie's lips as she moved her free hand to her mouth and began to sob. Her eyes scrunched up tight as tears stained her face and her feet bent and scuffed along the pavement.

Why was she being dragged around? Where was her mummy? Why had this lady taken her away from the shops? Why did none of her family follow or meet them outside like the woman said they would?

"Minnie!"

"Buck don't you dare!"

Evan broke out into a sprint, ignoring Athena's warning and moving faster when he saw Bobby aiming for him or Minnie, he couldn't be sure. But he wanted to get to her first. It was like a race, a competition, and Evan needed to win. He had to.

When Minnie stumbled, she flopped onto her already bruised and bloodied knees that had cut open when she fell just outside the shopping centre. Her hands scraped the floor and she let out a belting scream, curling up on herself in case the woman grabbed at her again.

Lunging forward, Evan crossed onto the pavement just as the woman either went to grab Minnie by the arm or the hair, he couldn't be sure. She looked panicked and frightened enough to grab her by her hair and haul her up if it would get them away from here any quicker.

"Touch my daughter again and I'll break your arm!" He caught her wrist mid-air, a split second before she could reach his little girl.

He could feel his boots touching Minnie's side, he was standing that close to her and his towering frame cast her in a protective shadow. But his eyes, oh his eyes seared holes right through the woman stood in front of him. His fingers clenched around her wrist until she was whimpering and shaking and he knew he was going to bruise her skin. If he clenched just a little more, he might even break a tendon or a bone.

He was desperate to. Evan wanted to crush her wrist into dust. He wanted to throw her down to the floor and scream at her. He wanted her to see the agony she had put all his girls through today.

To see what she had done to Evan's wife, how she had traumatised all his children and how petrified she had made Minnie by doing all of this.

When Evan let go of her wrist, an overwhelming wave of protection flooded through him like a tsunami. And before the woman could move an inch, Evan doubled over and grabbed his daughter.

He scooped Minnie up as she screamed, uncertain who it was that now had hold of her. But the moment she was nestled into that comforting chest and smelled that mixture of cologne and smoke, she simmered down into quiet cries and whimpers. Her arms bound around Evan's neck and she nuzzled her face into his skin as he peppered her temple and cheeks with kisses.

"Oh baby… it's okay, you're safe now. Me and mummy are here, we've got you little mouse."

Evan bounced her up and down against his chest, quietly shushing against her temple as he turned his back to the taxi and the woman who was now being detained by Athena.

"Mummy?"

"Yeah, mummy's here too baby, and nan and pops. We've been looking all over for you." He moved his hand up to cradle the back of her head and tangled his fingers through her thin hair. He didn't get two steps towards the police car before (Y/n) was clambering out of the open driver's side door and pelting across the road towards them.

"Mummy," Minnie sniffed and went off into another round of crying as Evan carefully lowered her down into (Y/n)'s arms.

As soon as Minnie was in her arms, (Y/n) closed her eyes and went down on her knees. Evan thought for a moment that she had collapsed or even fainted with relief, but she hadn't. She didn't have the strength to hold herself up any longer.

She tucked her face into Minnie's neck and started to rock back and forth, cuddling her close as if this was the last time she was ever going to see her.

A shiver rolled down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt Evan kneeling behind her. His knees pressed up into her leg and his chest curved around her, pulling her back into his chest so he could wind his arms around both her and Minnie.

"Are you okay baby, are you hurt?" (Y/n) brushed her sleeve beneath her eyes to clear her vision before she gently stood Minnie up in front of her and Evan so they could look at her properly.

She stuffed her thumb into her mouth and sniffed, letting them both reach out for her and check her for any injuries. When (Y/n) gently took both her hands and looked at them, she began to whimper. There were grazes along her palms, nothing major or deep but for a toddler, it would sting and distress her.

Evan carefully reached out for her left leg when he noticed she was leaning her weight on her right foot rather than balancing between the two. He didn't want to take her shoes off here and now in the street to assess her, but he figured it was either her foot or her ankle that was causing her pain when she flinched away from his touch.

And the cuts on her knees were clear as day. Her previously bleached white tights had large holes ripped through them with loose threads hanging loose around the sides. Blood was soaked into the fabric of her left knee which was cut open and her right knee wasn't much better, grazed and scuffed, lightly bleeding.

"Oh, little mouse."

Minnie whimpered again and pushed forward until she could flop against Evan's chest and shimmy until he lifted her up off her aching feet.

He held her as close and as tightly as he dared without smothering her, looped his left arm around (Y/n), and slowly rose to his feet. He kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head when she bound her arms around his torso and tucked herself beneath his arm.

She was okay. They had her back. Athena was arresting the woman and she would find out why she had decided to take Minnie and what she thought she was going to do with her. Bobby was beckoning them over to him as he leaned up against the bonnet of his car, arms folded tightly over his chest. But the relief was evident on his face.

"Come on, let's get you home."

BAD INFLUENCE・⁠｡♪ LN4 [+ OP81]

( lando norris x fem!reader ft. oscar piastri)

READ PART 2!

IN WHICH. getting high was never on oscar's roster. getting high and enjoying it with y/n and lando wasn't either, but that just makes it much more... exciting. (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 16+, suggestive content, drug use (as per), high hotness pt 875443, oscar cameo (woop woop 🥳), make outs, first time getting high, oscar being whipped for lando and y/n? wbk, a bit of mxm content between drivers, shotgunning coz it's my most favourite thing ever

NOTE. LANDOSCAR!! this may probably be my favourite fic and is my longest so im looking forward to you guys reading it!!! well overdue in my humblest opinion, but i delivered hehe. enjoy my luvs and a very happy new year in advance mwah mwah mwah 😚😚 i appreciate all of you readers, thank you for all your support 💓💓💓

SIDENOTE. my askbox is now closed for requests 🤍

‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia @mimi-luvzyu (use askbox above if you'd like to be added!)

frankly speaking, a 'you up?' text from oscar piastri, whose entire persona was an antithesis of what that type of message usually pertained to, isn't something lando was expecting at 1am after a tedious race weekend. knows oscar to be one who sleeps in too early, as if his circadian rhythm was built upon the foundation of a restrictive curfew, and even fathoming the fact that he is awake past 12 is rather peculiar.

yet, with the mutually pre-established sense that lando would be awake (he's probably an insomniac, but it's not too concerning for him to actually check), and that oscar was asking if he was just for the sake of, most likely because he's, unusually, unable to sleep, lando replies with much sluggish vim.

fingers moving as if they played in a dream, he's able to reply with 'yh, why????' and sends it off before throwing his phone on the bed. he thinks, if he's sober, he would care more that this is oscar!!!! who is normally adamant about getting sleep!!! and not looking more sleep deprived than his naturally downturned eyes already make he seem to be!!!! but his mind feels like gooey viscous, and he counts about 3,000 peaks and troughs of the popcorn ceiling above before losing count and seeking solace in the spliff that burns his throat like a madman. he ponders if he's going crazy.

it's not long after that the undulating, monotonous buzz from his phone tickles his skin and with a sigh he goes to reply. and as he does so, his girlfriend, curiosity piqued, perks up from the foot of the bed.

"who's texting you this late?"

she looks ridiculously amusing: head hanging off the edge, loose and completely yielding like a dead body, and the only thing that reassures lando of her consciousness is the occasion movement of her arm to take another drag.

he wedges the joint between his reddened lips, lips curling awkwardly to speak, "piastri. dunno what he wants th- oh shit."

he's never felt such a sinking, crippling feeling of his high escaping him like a broken dam before. it's weirdly chilling, and for a good second, he feels brightly and vividly sober again. the texts just... stare at him and he almost wants to hurl his phone at the wall and watch it rain a litany of debris.

osc: just... forgot to give you back your stuff that i borrowed

osc: found some green leaf stuff in it lol im a bit concerned

lando's read it so many times, he's more than certain he knows just how many letters it consists of. fingers hover above the keyboard but it looks like they're weirdly swimming in air as he debates just what to write, and y/n is suddenly hissing his name, having sat up.

"— lan'! fucking hell, what happened?"

he moves on autpilot, back resting up the headboard, "he's found my weed."

y/n— y/n snorts. she sighs, moves back to her original pose, and lando's brain feels like static.

"love, i thought it would be worse."

lando splutters, "worse? babe, this is already bad! he could tell management for all i know." the mere thought of that makes lando's mind congeal. nevertheless, high out of his wits, he thinks he would somehow find a way to continue even if he was implored to stop.

she's disagreeing and laughing, and lando doesn't know what to make of it.

"nah, you're good. oscar wouldn't tell a soul," it's silent as he sees a burst of smoke ascend from the edge of the mattress, "tell him to bring it over."

lando fights with himself in his head. it's hilarious, really, watching his face morph from one emotion to another, and after 5 minutes with no whooshing affirmative of a message being sent, y/n exhales.

the bed curves in as she crawls up towards lando, before plucking the phone from his grip.

"it's really not that deep, lan'," her voice feels like cotton in his ears, "oscar isn't like that."

her fingers fly across the keyboard, how she does so in her inebriated state, lando has no clue, and just as quickly as she snatched the phone, she's sliding it back between his fingers.

"how— how do you know that?"

all presumptions, really, lando thinks. they may be good friends, him and oscar, but they've still got many, many steps to go before he's reassured that the other wouldn't go running his mouth to management because he found *fucking weed* in his bag.

the little voice at the back of his mind seeths, 'you shouldn't be smoking anyway', but he ignores it. what the hell does it know?

y/n goes to straddle him, crotch digging into his. its a soft wave of pleasure that oozes from the pressure, and lando lets a small moan mix with the puff of smoke he blows out. they would've fucked if only his limbs didn't feel like they've been detached and re-stitched; maybe they'd end the night with a lazy ride.

his girlfriend smirks, all cunning and undeniably hot, sucking in as much smoke as she can before blowing it all on his face. if anybody else had done this, he'd turn feral, but there's something alluring when y/n's exhale tickles his skin like feathers.

"how do i know? well, oscar, he kinda reminds me of you—" lando interrupts with a raised brow and a questioning stare, but y/n proceeds, "both of you are- you were- itching for a release. him not as much as you, but i still see it."

and lando can't really deny that, because he sees it too. in the way oscar's eyes seem to dart with dreaded uncertainty, and the way his shoulders are always up and tense, as if he has been tied like a puppet.

"that's what i call 'destined to get high'," y/n banters. it makes lando snort and roll his eyes (ultimately omitting to dwell on the sliver of seriousness that leaks through).

"dunno why you're rolling your eyes, you were basically begging me to give you a spliff," y/n taunts, and even though he groans at the reminiscence, he doesn't deny it. doing so would be like calling himself michael schumacher.

"yeah, whatever," he takes a lazy drag, a hand sliding up and down y/n's thigh, "at least i'm sexy when getting stoned."

y/n cackles, dissolving into a small giggle as she twirls her fingers through lando's curls; she never wants to let him go.

"damn right, baby."

another ping sounds from lando's phone, and subconsciously, his hands snakes to get it.

when he turns it on, he doesn't think he can be gobsmacked with such intensity twice in a day.

landooo: yh just bring it over

landooo: you can join us if you'd like

landooo: 😉

osc: uhm sure..

"y/n."

-.-.-.-.-

weed.

he'll be fucking damned.

the laugh that is punched out of him is one of disbelief, and, quite frankly, sheer horror.

he'd only wanted to borrow some shaving cream, after all, he's not one to favour the prickly itch of stubble. and in perfect, restless lando fashion, he was given the whole essentials bag and tasked with finding it himself.

which then leads him to now, palm burning with the weight of three spliffs that had somehow tumbled out of a flat metal tin.

he stares at them for so long that he might as well have burned holes into them (ironic), and in a flurry of movement, he's stuffing everything back into the bag, zipping it closed. if he doesn't see it, then he doesn't know it's there. cool.

but he's just standing, in the middle of his hotel room, completely clueless and delirious. he doesn't know how many times he wipes perspiration off his palms and onto his shorts, neither does he know how he's able to text lando about his findings.

originally, he thought that sending the infamous, suggestively connotated 'you up?' would've trimmed a bit of the tension away, yet it seems like lando, without fail, waters the situation with a fuck-ton more.

"'join us'? fucking hell."

oscar feels absolutely scorched from the wisps of his hair to the tips of his toes, and a spark of something curls in his gut.

no, absolutely not.

it's- he flips his watch to check the time- one am for fuck's sake, and lando's— getting high. smoking weed. [most likely] with his girlfriend.

whatever it is that makes his gut its abode curls even more as he shoves his feet into the nearest shoes he can find, and tames his hair in the mirror by the doorway. finding the night already too hard to bare, he doesn't dwell on what he'd done, and heads off to lando's room with sickening anticipation swirling within the grooves of his skin.

the walk is only a few seconds long, and oscar curses the fact that they weren't roomed further apart (impractical in usual circumstances, but the current predicament is anything but usual). he guesses he stands there, navy blue wash bag clutched in a vice grip, for many minutes (his concept of time tonight is royally fucked— how has he stayed up this late?) before he musters up some courage to knock on the door. in the quietude of the night, the sound is magnified to the point where he winces and hopes that no one else on their floor wakes up.

he hears a quiet rustle from behind the door, sighs for the umpteenth time that day (honestly, he could have a smoke for himself to- no.) before it's swiftly open.

y/n stands there, no sign of a spliff in sight, but her heavy lidded red eyes (that must hurt, right?) and the pungent smell of weed is enough to tell.

"ah, golden boy is here," y/n's grinning, as much as she can do without it looking robotic, and oscar blushes.

"g-golden boy?"

"i said what i said," she opens the door wider, and oscar's vision catches a limp leg hanging off the side of the bed, "you coming in or what?"

he's never been in such a mind-tearing crossroad before. wants to be reasonable and say no, afterall his job is on the line here (just because lando hasn't been caught, doesn't mean he won't, too). but then he's thinking that he's played angel's advocate for too long, and, as if the universe wants to commit a double homicide, lando is walking over, countenance lackadaisical and bends down as he wraps his arms around her waist.

he asks for forgiveness, because such a temptation before him is completely unforgiving , and oscar finds his vascillations come to an end the second he makes eye contact with his teammate.

it's then he realises that the something that had been driving his intestines mad was sheer want, and, having a mind of their own, his feet shuffle into the room, decision finalised by the click of the door shutting behind him.

he just hopes he doesn't regret this is in the morning.

the couple, with eased familiarity, move back to the bed, leaving oscar standing there, lost and expecting. lando regains possession of the spliff, back flat against the bed and arm bent behind his head.

he's turning to oscar, several beats later, with a heated look that just pulls the australian right in.

"put the bag down, osc," he's demanding— oh fuck, "and come over here."

oscar feels rather mortified at the effect lando's assertiveness has on him. his heart curdles, drips away like goo, and he can't think straight.

toes off his shoes, sliding them out of the way with his foot, before dumping the bag on lando's luggage and tentatively making his way to the bed.

it's excruciatingly daunting, must he say, and he's sure it's blatant because y/n is grinning softly and beckoning him closer with the wave of a hand.

"you're good, oscar."

then he's fully on the bed, a thin sheen of gray blurring his vision and the stench of smoke so thick, he could get high off it alone.

lando's splayed in front of him, watching intensely as his fingers accomodate a joint between them, and y/n's at his side, right at the foot of the bed, fiddling with a metal tin of her own.

he wonders just how long they've been doing this for.

"for me, since i was 18/19 maybe. lando started about a year ago."

oscar's brain fucking spasms.

his head whips to y/n, then back to lando, who just smiles and takes another drag, "a year?!"

the girl beside him giggles, turning back to him with a freshly rolled spliff of his own, "yeah. practically drooling to take a hit."

his teammate groans, dragging a hand down his face before sitting up, they seem to go through this ordeal once or twice before.

before he can question any more, y/n points the joint at him, "you sure you want to do this?"

funny, he's asking himself this. has been ever since he read the proposition that lando (y/n) had sent, and he had replied with a seemingly confused 'sure'. heat feels like a thousands ants crawling up his body, and the silence is even worse because he's certain his ears are filled with cement.

"am i— am i gonna get addicted to... this?"

lando shakes his head just as y/n shrugs, "depends, love. if you've got good enough self control and don't rely on it too much, you'll be fine."

oscar gives a sigh of relief, but turns tense again as he looks at lando. almost telepathically, he knows what oscar is thinking.

"no osc, i'm not hooked on this. i only do it every couple of weeks or so."

his hands raise up in defense, "just asking, mate."

"and you have every right to, baby," y/n says, then scoops his hand into her grip and puts the spliff in his hand, "now take this and let lando teach you."

oscar doesn't know what to do with it. he just stares at the green stick in his hand and wills up some courage to look back up at lando. for the first time in 22 years, he's going to experience what it's like to get high, and the excitement that crawls up his spine is chilling.

"take this," lando pushes a bottle of water into his hands, and oscar looks at it in confusion.

"it's your first time, so it'll probably make you cough a ton. drinking water helps."

oscar nods, gently taking and unscrewing it open. he gulps it down like a starved animal, and almost chokes when he notices his teammates girlfriend staring bullets into his face. his heart jumps and he stops drinking.

"now put the spliff in your mouth and let me light it for you."

oscar does so, feeling the weight of the rolled joint between his lips is completely maddening.

his teammate fishes a black lighter from the bedside table, then scooches closer to oscar's crossed legs. lando's body is like a furnace of drunken heat, and it only gets worse when his hand lands right on oscar's bare thigh.

it feels perfect and oscar thinks he's surfing on the waves of euphoria already.

"this good?" lando questions his touch, and oscar doesn't waste time to nod, "alright— when i light it, you're gonna try and inhale as much as you can. don't let it stay in your throat or you're gonna cough."

oscar bobs his head affirmatively.

"if you can't, just take it in small amounts, not too much that it hits your throat."

then lando's leaning in, flame swaying from the lighter, and oscar's eyebrows scrunch as he follows it closer and closer to the spliff.

it's instaneous, the heat that fills his mouth, and in a hurried succession, oscar is inhaling and spluttering like a madman. his eyes are burning, they may already be red at this point, and his nose feels ripped off.

"take it easy, love," a hand- y/n's- rests upon his back and he finds himself needing composure, and not only from his failed attempt to smoke.

"wow uh that was— uhm..."

lando rubs his thigh, with the intention to comfort, but oscar finds himself more pent up than before. the weed is already kicking in and his mind feels chopped into pieces and mixed with cake batter, and every touch feels like a punch.

"you good to go again?" lando queries. oscar nods, his throat feeling too rough to speak up, "okay then, take your time and calm yourself down. small intakes, yeah?"

the spliff goes back between his lips, and with lando watching him like he's the best movie he's ever seen, he's sucking in the smoke cautiously and— fuck, it feels so so good. he's unravelled everywhere, not a kink left in his joint nor a knot remaining in his muscles, and when he breathes the smoke out, he lets his head fall back with a smile on his face.

"there you go," lando's voice sounds loose and airy in his mind, and oscar finds himself loving it.

"look at him, babe," y/n chimes from beside him, and his head rolls to give her an inebriated grin, "told you he was meant for it."

lando hums, agreeing, from in front of him, "gonna shotgun with him."

whatever that is, y/n is eager to see it happen, and oscar gives lando a confused look. it only evokes a cute grin from the other, who plucks the spliff from oscar's fingers.

"i'll take a hit and blow it in your mouth, if that's cool with you."

and— oscar moans involuntarily. he doesn't know where it comes from but it's practically punched out of him with how loud it is, and lando smirks widely. all oscar can do is watch as he fills his mouth with smoke and shuffles closer to him. his heart palpitates, beating like a drum piece, and his skin is damp and flushed from the intensity of it all.

lando assesses oscar's decision, confirming his consent as he nods, and slowly, lando snakes an arm around his neck, pulling him closer. oscar is compliant, body wanting and downright desperate, mouth opening on autopilot.

the second lando's lips attach to his and the smoke is pushed into his mouth, oscar fucking loses it. his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he's grabbing lando's hair and pushing his mouth deeper.

he's kissing his teammate with all he has to give, and lando— he's reciprocating it, lips hungry on oscar's, biting and licking everywhere. for a second, oscar can't think about anything, mind filled with just lando, as his tongue slips in and turns the kiss filthy.

oscar hasn't made out with anyone with such ferocity. he's encompassed in scorching heat, and the euphoria just gets better as lando trails his lips down his neck. the bites and licks are inclement, and oscar's sure there'd be marks tomorrow, angry and purple, but right now, he doesn't care. not when lando's hands creep up his shirt, and run up his torso, resting upon his nipples and twirling them around his fingers.

"oh fuck, lando," his moan is so high pitched it sounds foreign and it's almost hard for him to believe that it comes from him. but he's sure it does, because another is forced out as soft hand turns his head to the side and there's another set of lips on his in an instant.

he thinks he could hooked on y/n's kisses, warm, wet and so fucking sensual, he feels worshipped. not an inch of skin is missed by her tongue, and with every drag of her lips against his, he's concluding that this would be the perfect way to die.

oscar's so hard in his jeans from lando's stimulation, y/n's kisses, and the heightened sensation of everything from the weed, that he almost cums in his shorts. he can only imagine how plump it could be, and how a mouth on it would have him sobbing for days.

but he doesn't have to, because lando creeps a hand to his crotch and squeezes. the whine that leaves oscars mouth and into his teammate's girlfriend's is criminal.

"gonna suck you off so good, osc," lando moans in his ear, breath warm and words dirty, "you like that?"

and as oscar begs him to, he thinks that maybe getting high with lando and y/n isn't so bad afterall.

LORENZO ZURZOLO and LUDOVICA MARTINO in Under the Amalfi Sun (2022)

soft

synopsis: girls with cute tummies and soft thighs and extra chub in different places can also date hot popstar boys okay? okay.

word count: 2.1 k

contains: plus size reader, non au harry, fluff, mentions of body image and insecurities, harry being obsessed with his girlfriend

A/N: the start of a new thing called 'soft girl sundays' which I'm starting !! i wrote this for wp a few months ago but it's one of my fave things I've written so I'm re-posting it here. it's cheesy and fun and harry's obsessed with his girl !! i know for a lot of us girlies sometimes it feels like we take up too much space and we're always made to feel smaller mentally, physically, in every way really but you have much of a right to be here as everyone else so take up alllll the space u need !! women are beautiful and majestic no matter their size 💘

. . .

My girls' in the audience tonight.

I look past the curtain across the stage and see her in the VIP section.

Even without the stage lights shining on her, she's glowing.

She's wearing a shirt with my initials stitched over her heart and every time she lifts her arms, I see her soft tummy and the dimples on her back when she spins. Her thick thighs are on show as she wears the smallest pink skirt known to man. Her hair falls past her shoulder and down her back and her cute cheeks turn pink as she smiles when she speaks to some of the team who stand with her. 

She's the living embodiment of the divine feminine and I can't ever seem to get over the fact that she's all mine. 

The music begins to play and I watch as her face lights up with excitement. She's seen this show over a few dozen times but she never fails to be just as excited as the first time she saw me walk on stage with a hickey on my neck that she'd put there moments before.

When it's my queue, I skip onto the stage and my ears nearly burst as the sound of people screaming over the music starts to fill the stadium. She's smiling, she's cheering, she's singing the words to every single song. She's so pretty and she's all I see.

When the show ends, I walk backstage to my dressing room. Normally I'd run into a car and get the Hell out of there before crowds of people start to fill up the streets to get home, but this time, Y/N was here and I knew how much anxiety she felt whenever we had to rush to be somewhere.

I walked in and accepted the compliments from my team after another successful show. Paris was a city I held close to me so it was always a fun time when we played.

I gulped down a glass of water and felt arms snake around my waist. I immediately grinned when I saw the lilac-painted nails that matched my very own. I feel her nuzzle her face into my back before I twist in her embrace and look into the eyes of the girl I love with everything in me.

"Hi baby," I whisper, stroking her cheek that still had glitter on it.

"Hi Harry," Y/N murmurs, her eyes tired but full of happiness.

"Y' okay?" I hold her, feeling her soft skin beneath my hand. She was so soft and cuddly.

"I'm okay." She smiles, lazily. "You did so good up there. I nearly cried,"

I laugh, "You always nearly cry."

"That's because I'm proud of you." She shrugs.

We sit on the couch and she straddles my lap, her skirt riding up and I nearly choke when I catch a glimpse of her lacy underwear. I put my hands on her thighs and squeeze them softly. "You excited for our trip tomorrow?" I asked, staring at her lips and suddenly feeling the temptation to kiss them. I did and she happily accepted.

We had a few days before the next show so we decided to head down to the South of France and spend a few days in Nice. We haven't been on a trip together in a while other than the tour locations so we made the most of the little time we had in between shows to spend as much time as we could together.

She nods, "I bought a new swimsuit just for the occasion."

I groan, my head falling back against the couch, "You kill me."

She giggles, "love you."

I immediately smile. "I love you too," I kiss her.

The morning after the show, we woke up early to make our flight down to Nice. Y/N whines the entire time because she's not a morning person and refuses to step one foot out of bed until I force her.

She sleeps on my chest the entire journey there, wearing an oversized hoodie with the hood up. "My whole heart is inside y'." I murmur as her cheek presses against my chest and makes her lips all pouty, light snores falling from them. I lightly push some of her baby hairs back from her face and trace my thumb over the soft skin of her cheek.

We arrive and head straight to our room at the hotel to drop our bags off before heading to the beach. Y/N immediately opens the doors to the balcony and gasps when she looks out at the view. "Harry, it's beautiful," Y/N says in awe.

I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her tummy, squeezing the softest part of her. I loved all the parts of her but her tummy was my absolute favourite. She always complained about it. How it stuck out when she wore tight clothing and even more so after eating. 'Harry I already have a tummy? Why punish me further by making it bigger after I eat? Seems unfair don't you think?'  I'd spend the whole journey home telling her how beautiful she looked and how I loved watching her enjoy the food she loves and then I'd hold her in bed and run circles on her little, bloated belly because I had made it my life's mission to show as much love to the little chub of a tummy she had.

I pull on my swim shorts and a white linen shirt, leaving the buttons undone. I pack my beach bag for our beach towels and my book as well as my film camera and sun lotion.

Y/N walks out of the bathroom. Her hair in loose curls from the heat and her face already sunkissed and pretty. My mouth falls open when I take in the small, blue bikini on her body, revealing her soft curves and every perfect inch of her.

"Do you like it?" She blushes, acting like she's not the hottest girl I've ever seen in my entire life.

It tied at her waist and around her neck, my immediate thought being how easy it would be to take it off her and spend the entire day in bed, making out or whatever. I honestly couldn't care less as long as she's there.

"Baby," I dropped the bag on the floor and made my way towards her, pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilting her head back so I could kiss her at the perfect angle.

She whines and the sound nearly has me dropping to my knees. "You're fucking unbelievable."

"You really think so?" She bites back a smile, "You don't think I need to hide my stretch marks?" My heart aches at how unsure she sounded, the fact she even had to ask made me want to pick her up and kiss each stretch mark on her body.

"No, my love," I shake my head, kissing the stretch marks at the top of her left breast and feeling her heart racing at the delicate touch. "You have absolutely nothing to hide from anybody. Y' beautiful and you're mine,"

She smiles and kisses me again.

We head down to the beach to the reserved sunbeds. Y/N lays out her towel and sits down to apply sun cream to her arms and legs. I help her do her back, massaging her shoulders and trying not to combust as she rolls her head to the side and moans at the feeling.

I literally have a crush on this woman.

And she's my fucking girlfriend.

What did I do to get this lucky in life?

"Let's go in the water baby," I held her hand and we walked to the water, stepping in together.

She wraps her arms and legs around me when we're deep enough in the water. I squeeze her ass and she gasps, swatting me gently. "What?" I look at her innocently.

"There's people watching." She hides her face in my neck and I turn us both around to catch sight of the paparazzi hiding behind the trees and snapping pictures of us.

I release a sigh and pull her face back to get a better look at her. If there was one thing that could make my girlfriend second guess herself, it was the paparazzi constantly posting her pictures online and allowing people to berate her for how she looked.

"Please don't let them ruin your day my love," I kiss her shoulder, still holding her in my arms. "I promise, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"You promise?" She pouts.

"Feel this," I reach for her hand and guide her to the small bit of chub on my hip.

She gasps, "You have chub too!"

I rolled my eyes but smiled at the same time, her excitement was adorable. "Everyone's got something they're insecure about. No matter how hard I've tried I can't seem to get rid of it, maybe it's from all the cakes you've been making but how am I meant to say no to such a pretty face?"

She squeals in delight when I pinch her sides and giggles as I press kisses to her face. "Wanna go and sunbathe for a little, baby?" She nods and we both walk out of the water so she can sit in the sun for a bit.

I spend more time in the water and come out to find Y/N verging on the brink of sleep. I smirk as I crawl between her legs and lay between her thighs, sighing softly as I turn my head away from the sun and press a kiss to her inner thigh. She reaches down and runs her fingers through my wet hair, her nails scratching my scalp.

After midday, I order food to be sent up to our room. Y/N's passed out on the sunbed so I gently shake her awake, "Hi baby," Her pretty eyes flutter open, "Need you to drink something darling, you've been in the sun for a while." She slowly sits up and rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. I unscrew the cap of the water bottle and pass it to her, watching as she almost drinks the whole thing.

"I got us room service to be delivered. Want to head back upstairs for a bit?" Her cheeks were red and her hair was all frizzy due to the humidity. She nodded and we packed our things up and made our way back to our hotel room.

Our food was already laid out on the balcony by the time we walked into the room. I had left the air conditioning on so the room was nice and cool since Y/N struggled to sleep when it was too hot and stuffy.

She was wearing my linen shirt over her bikini and I couldn't help but stare at her ass as I followed her to the table outside.

There was fruit, bread and pastries laid out on a spread at the table as well as a glass of red wine and some orange juice. Y/N sat on one of the chairs with one leg hitched up as she ate some of her baguette and cheese, her favourite snack to eat when we were in France.

"Are you having fun, my love?" I asked, taking a bite of fresh watermelon.

She nods quickly, "It's the best. Anytime with you is always the best,"

"Come sit here," I motion and move my chair out, patting my thigh. She doesn't hesitate and stands up to sit down on my lap.

I kissed the back of her neck and put one hand on her hip, my thumb traced the edge of the waistband of her bikini bottoms, slipping under the material to trail soft circles over her hip bones.

"I'm keeping you forever, I hope you know that," I murmur, appreciating this intimate moment between us which didn't happen as often as I liked them to but we made do.

"I hope so," She whispers.

I loved this girl for all she was. There is nothing in this world that could change just how much I adored her.

"Harry," She says my name, "This bikini is pretty easy to take off you know."

I choke, eyes widening and seeing the smirk on her face. I pick her up, her legs wrapping around me and her ankles locking behind my back. "Is that a challenge or a request?" I kiss her lips, tasting the saltiness of the sea on them.

"Both," She says in between kisses.

This girl.