Do u ever not realize how starved for affection u are till someone hugs u a bit tighter than normal and you find that you really donât want to let go
Request:Â â Can you write: Imagine waking up next to Matt Murdock? C:â
Warnings: slight nsfw, brief descriptions of the bone zone (im sorry i keep calling it that)
A/N: i wrote this while listening to Happy by Marina Diamandis & i highly suggest you listen to it while reading bc this song  literally sums up the entire vibe of this fic. Also, iâve been messing around with writing styles and attempting to be more descriptive so i hope you guys like this.Â
   Rays of early morning sunlight filtered into the room, lying on the wooden floor like sweet honey. The white silk sheets hugged your body and enveloped you in a sea of warmth as you shifted slightly, sighing contentedly at the familiar soreness between your legs. Memories of the previous night filled your groggy mind.Â
  Calloused hands spreading your thighs open with ease, a skilled tongue tracing circles around your clit, nimble fingers working you open, slowly bringing you over the edge of bliss. Soon after coming down from your high, the deft fingers are replaced by a thick, heavy cock as Matt enters you.  Â
  The sound of his raspy, desperate moans and voice rough as gravel still fresh in your mind. You remembered the way his fingers had dug into the soft skin of your hips as he pounded into you. The night had only continued from there, filled with multiple orgasms and quiet I love you's whispered between gasps of pleasure.
    A low groan dragged your mind back to the present as strong arms shifted beneath the soft covers and tightened themselves around your waist, pressing your back closer to his chest.Â
  Matt placed a chaste kiss to the back of your neck, which was still littered with hickeys, you could feel him smiling against your skin.Â
 "G'morning, beautiful." He mumbled lazily as he stroked a hand down your side, tracing lightly over the bruises on your hip before wandering back up. You  mustered up some amount of strength in your aching muscles and rolled over to face him, pressing a kiss to the end of his nose.
 "And how do you know that I'm beautiful if you can't even see me?" You teased.
 "Mm. There are other ways to see."Â
 You smiled and pressed your forehead against his, eyes closed, hand over his heart. He had told you this before, many times. You never understood what he meant by it until the night he told you everything.Â
 Heâd expected you to laugh and take it as a joke or, if you did believe him, he expected you to get angry like Foggy did. But you had just stood there in pure silence, thinking about what he had just told you. You stood there for so long that, had he not been able to hear your heartbeat, Matt would have thought that you left. When you finally did speak, he was bombarded with an influx of questions and concerns about his safety. But after some amount of reassurance you accepted that, though it was dangerous, Matt knew what he was doing.
  Now here you were two weeks later, lying in his bed with your bare body pressed against his on a lazy Saturday morning. And it was here, with you wrapped in his warm embrace and your small hand on his chest, that Matt realized what he had been missing all these years; happiness.
 He had given up on chasing happiness long ago, only to have happiness find him. Matt didn't necessarily believe in soul mates, but he believed in possibility and the idea that everyone gets a chance at happiness.
 With you, Matt Murdock had found a way to be happy.Â
hey bbys! iâm so sorry for being gone so long, school has me so busy lately jfc.
 the workload is still pretty heavy but i really donât wanna abandon this blog so iâm gonna try to put in a few minutes of writing every day so i can keep posting stuff for yaâll. i have a few requests in my inbox but feel free to send in more! iâm always thirsty for prompts TBHÂ
i love you guys
remember to eat your veggiesÂ
nvm veggies are gross remember to eat your fruit, motherfuckers.
@shamvictoria11 i can definitely do the ship meme for Tony! but could you send me the request in the form of an ask? itâs just easier to type out the ship meme in a reply rather than an actual text post
@ohyesmarvel thanks for the kind words, bby! i have a Scott Lang request for that ship meme I reblogged the other day and it's in my drafts rn. I'll PROBABLY finish it and post it today (maybe????) so you guys have something to look forward to *finger guns*
Hey pumpkins! sorry ive been absent lately, i was on fall break and i finally got to spend some time with my old friends that i havent seen in forever. But, im going on a trip to the zoo with my anatomy class today (Im gonna be the only sophomore there đ·) so i might be able to get some writing done on my phone and post something later on today thanks for being so patient with me, u guys are the tru mvps
im a smol (5'1) demigirl. i have long brown hair and grey eyes. i like to read and write a lot. i'm a cancer. i usually like to stay at home and hang out with my pets or go to places like the park or the zoo. i'm usually quiet but once people get my fire started i often don't shut up until i get my point across or they stop listening to me.
omg ur so smol i love it.
 ur smol & i ship you with swol:
Thor
Thor loves animals seemingly almost as much as you do and is more than happy to take you on dates to the park or zoo. Heâs more than willing to take the time to get to know you and make sure youâre comfortable with each new step of your relationship. He likes your quiet demeanor and heâs seen how you can go from 0 to 100 in 0.2 seconds, he absolutely loves it. Â Honestly, nothing amuses him more than when someone brings up a controversial subject that you have differentiating opinions on and then proceed to watch you verbally tear them a new one.
Best Friend:
Natasha Romanoff
Sass + sass, honestly it was a friendship that was unavoidable. Â Like you, Natasha can be somewhat quiet until provoked, then all hell breaks loose. She loves spending downtime at your house and playing with you pets, who seem to follow her around like ducklings, hilariously enough.
Secret Admirer:
Sam Wilson
It started with you two being close friends, it wasnât until much later that he realized he had feelings for you. But, you were obviously very happy with Thor and he wasnât about to get in the way of that. He was okay with just being friends. As long as you were happy, he was happy.
Want one? (remember to check the faq & let me know if you need a link to it)
Hey, my name is Sarah. I'm 5'4 ft tall and have blue-green eyes. Im hetero- I'm kind-hearted and affectionate but I also have that sassy-snappy side. I take my time in getting closer with someone (=shy at first) but then I open up. I love to make people laugh at all costs. If I set a goal I desperately try to reach it and I'll do my best! Travelling is my passion, as well as sleeping and eating and Netflix and napping (besides college, I'm not that lazy as it sounds like haha!) thank you so much
oh my gosh im sorry this took so long, bby!
I ship you with:
Steve Rogers
He admires your kind-heartedness and even enjoys when you get snappy at people. You determination to reach your goals matches his perfectly and heâs ALWAYS down for going somewhere new with you or just spending the night in watching Netflix and eating everything in the kitchen.
Your best friend:
Wanda Maximoff
You met her after you started dating Steve and you instantly took a liking to each other. She loves having movie nights with you when Steve is out on a mission, along with discussing all they places youâve been. Sokovia sounds like it would have been a really nice place to travel before Ultron payed a visit.
Secret Admirer:Â
Tony Stark
When Steve first brought you to the tower, Tony couldnât keep his eyes off of you. At first he was enraptured by your beauty, but over time he began to fall for your stunning personality as well. Sure, Tony will flirt with you from time to time, but he knows youâre off limits so long as youâre with Cap. For now, heâll just admire from afar
Want a ship? (be sure to read the faq first and let me know if you need a link to it)
tbh these all turned into a bunch of small fics but ÂŻ\_(ă)_/ÂŻ
who the fuck put the peeps in the microwave
Steve was out on his morning run, leaving you alone in the apartment which  wasnât necessarily a good thing seeing as he was pretty much 95% of your impulse control.
You knew better. Youâd heard all the horror stories about exploding peeps and melted marshmallow all over the place but you just couldnât stop yourself; you had to try it at least once. Besides, how bad could it be?
Bad. It was very bad.
Steve came home to find the kitchen a mess. The microwave door was open with a plate inside of it, holding remains of the sugary treat that he had yet to try. Then he spotted you sitting on the floor, back against the cabinet and pink goop covering your hair and clothes.
âUh, what did you do?â
âI made a mistake.â
who forgot to put the cat outside before sex
//NSFW//
You absolutely adored cats and Steve just couldnât say no when you looked at him like that. So you got Cisco, a very grumpy tabby from the shelter with a stub tail and a missing ear. He had yet to warm up to Steve but took an immediate liking to you, following you around the apartment like a duckling with itâs mother.
Having been allergic to cats before the serum, Steve wasnât used to having a cat, or any animal for that manner, in the house. So when a stressful day found Steve coming home and immediately carrying you to the bedroom, neither of you realized Cisco had entered the bedroom with you and jumped up onto the dresser.
Things were moving quickly. Steve, desperate for release, was relentlessly pounding into you, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall. You couldnât hold back the loud, continuous moans that escaped your lips as you neared orgasm (you made note to apologize to the neighbors later). Your nails dragged red lines up his back and your body arched upwards pressing even closer. A strangled groan fell from his mouth and you knew he wasnât far behind.
Steve suddenly stopped moving and pulled out of you. You opened your eyes, ready to pull his hair and beg him to keep going, when you saw his gaze fixed on the opposite side of the room. You turned your head in the same direction and found Cisco perched on the dresser, eyes fixed on you and Steve with an almost judgmental glare.
âUh, what do you want me to do?â
âGod, just ignore him and keep going, Iâm so close Steve.â
âI honestly canât do this with the cat staring at me, (y/n).â
You sighed in frustration and reached behind your head, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at the dresser. Cisco hissed and jumped down, sprinting out of the room. You immediately took control, pushing Steve off of you and climbing on top of him, easing yourself back onto his cock, determined to finish before the cat came trotting back in and ruined your fun again.
who posts vines of the other doing embarrassing shit
You started a vine account centered around Steve fucking up, it happened so often and it was so funny that you couldnât not share it with the world. Most of the vines are recorded early in the morning when Steve has just woken up, still groggy and not entirely aware of his surroundings.
Your most revined post is the one where Steve walks into the kitchen, still half asleep and therefore forgetting how little force it takes for him to open the fridge due to the insane amount of strength he possesses. He goes to open it and pulls way too hard on the door, nearly ripping it off. The momentum sends several things flying out and most of them fall onto the floor but the carton of orange juice falls from the top shelf of the door and makes a direct impact to Steveâs shoulder, spilling all over him. (most of the revines could probably be accounted to the fact that Steve was wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants)
You think Steve doesnât know about the account, but he knows, and he actually doesnât mind all that much. He found out about it when he walked into the training room the morning that the previously mentioned vine had been posted. There he found Sam, Pietro, Wanda, and Rhodey huddled around Natasha who had her phone held up for them to watch, all laughing hysterically as the orange juice vine looped over and over again.
who breaks the most phones
Itâs kind of a tie, to be honest. You just have really bad luck with phones, but Steve tends to forget how fragile iphones are, tossing them carelessly onto flat surfaces and subsequently groaning when he picks it up to find the screen shattered or going for a swim and not taking his phone out of his pocket, forgetting that iphones are NOT waterproof.
who dies first
// tw for death obv but mentions of PTSD, lots of blood and general sadness//
He shouldnât have been so open with your relationship. He didnât care who knew he was dating someone and gladly obliged to answer reporters who asked about how your relationship was going, unashamedly talking about how in love he was.
Steve was NEVER ashamed or secretive about his feelings for you.
That was his biggest mistake.
You were a civilian. A normal person with no powers, no special training, nothing that would make you stand out from the crowd. You were the only normal thing in his hectic life as a hero and he loved you for it. He never thought that the thing he loved most about you would ultimately be the cause of your death.
When Steve revealed that the two you were engaged, it was only a matter of time before the remaining members of Hydra had you on their radar. They were set on revenge against Captain America and they had finally found the chink in his armor.
He came home from an Avengers meeting to find that you werenât there to greet him like usual. He would have assumed that you were asleep considering it was pretty late, but the cat came running into the room and began meowing and running around him. Something was wrong, Cisco loved you but would hardly look in Steveâs direction unless food was involved. Suddenly, the grey tabby sprinted into the bedroom and Steve followed close behind.
What he found would scar him for the rest of his life.
You lay there on the floor in front of the bedroom window surrounded in a still growing pool of your own blood. The window was shattered and the wound on your chest indicated that youâd been shot, most likely a sniper.
Steve crossed the room and fell to his knees next to you, cradling your head in his lap while sobs wracked his body. Cisco sat next to your body and nuzzled against his side. He absentmindedly began stroking the catâs back before he looked over and saw the streaks of red left in the fur where his hand had been. Steve withdrew his hand in horror and realized he was covered in your blood.
No amount of scrubbing and soap could wash that blood off his hands. Even after all physical evidence of it was gone, he would still see it every day when he walked into that bedroom, and every night when he closed his eyes.
This was his fault.
which one I could see as being lactose intolerant
Pre-serum Steve was definitely lactose intolerant, it was just part of his life. Even though the serum had pretty much fixed anything wrong his metabolism and immune system, he still avoids dairy products simply out of habit.
who thinks they can do something really well even though they canât
Poor Steve insists that he can dance, going so far as putting on a slow cd and asking you to dance with him in the living room at least once a week. You always did, despite the fact that he was constantly stepping on your toes and losing rhythm, it was cute.
who is more likely to get kicked out of the bed
You had a really bad habit of kicking in your sleep. Steve can usually handle it, but after a few especially hard kicks to the shins, Steve picks you up and carries you to the couch, mumbling apologies and excuses about how if heâs tired when he goes in tomorrow, Natasha will definitely kick his ass during training  and tease him about it for the rest of the week. Most of the time you just nod and go back to sleep, snuggling into the blanket that he drapes over you.
who uses the computer most
Most likely Steve, considering he uses it to get caught up with everything that happened in the world when he was frozen.
Request: brucespurplebuttons: âneither of us have kissed anyone before and what the hell may as well just get it out of the way. except hahah ha ha h a now i canât stop thinking of ur lips why did i think this was a good idea ha ha ahahâ with Matt Murdock pleASE? He has the most sinful lips. <3 (Also, that âclicky clickyâ link? Nice one.)
A/N: Iâm sorry this took so long! It really wanted to turn into smut for some reason but I was like nah son, that wasnât part of the request, so i ended up spending three days just trying to wrap up the story without it turning into the sexy times so i hope the ending doesnât suck lmao (also i put the story under a read more bc itâs hella long)
hey guys, donât forget that i do ships too. so just like, read the ship guidelines and send an ask my way & iâll tell you who i ship you with and all that jazz  *finger guns*
(if youâre on mobile and canât get to my faq just let me know and iâd be more than happy to give you the link *double thumbs up*)
Request: we drunk-kissed but you forgot about it and i donât know how to act around you anymore wtf with Harry Osborn (because I always read the tags)
Word Count: 2,521 (aka why the fuck can i do this with no problem but still struggle to write a 1,000 word essay for school)
Warnings: Terrible hangovers and the things that come with them (i.e. nausea and headaches.) and a lot of cussing because i no longer have any self control.
A/N: Iâm SOOOOO happy someone requested this bc im in actual love with Harry Osborn. Also, this is the longest fic iâve ever written letâs celebrate my productivity (actually dont bc the only reason i finished this today is bc im avoiding homework)
The alcohol in your system made your head spin as you collapsed onto a cushioned leather couch near the dance floor, glad to be out of the crowd that smelled like sex and b.o. Â You leaned back and closed your eyes as the DJ played some obscure Beastie Boys song that your mind was too flooded with alcohol to remember the name of.
âHey there, hot stuff.â You jumped in surprise as someone sat next to you and slung their arm around your shoulder. Tensing up, you were fully prepared to cuss them out and push them away or maybe even punch them, but you relaxed when you saw that it was just Harry. When you looked at him, though, it was obvious that he was completely hammered, more so than you. His cheeks had a slight rosy tint from and his pupils were dilated, a casual smirk tugging at his lips. When you didnât answer him he leaned against you and moved as close as possible, making you let out an annoyed sigh. Even with the alcohol clouding your mind, you knew that now wasnât the time to feel cuddly.
You tended to get a bit flirty when youâre drunk but you can generally keep your wits about you, unlike your friend next to you who was totally out of it after downing about 7 shots of tequila, as per usual. He wasnât a lightweight in any sense, as a matter of fact he was almost able to hold his liquor as well as you do, he just didnât know when to stop drinking.
âOkay no. Harry, itâs too hot in here for you to be this close to me.â Your speech was slightly slurred as you pushed his arm off your shoulder and scooted away a bit to regain your personal space. He grumbled something incomprehensible and settled for resting his hand on your thigh as he leaned against the back cushion of the leather couch.
Harry had always been a very affectionate drunk and you were normally the one who had to put up with it if he hadnât found some girl to cozy up to. When that happened, you always felt a pang of jealousy in your chest when the would girl giggle and move closer. You could usually chalk it up to just being protective of Harry, having been his best friend since you were kids, but lately you were beginning to have feelings for the young CEO and you knew that it was a very bad idea.
Without warning, Harry ran his hand up your thigh and nuzzled against the side of your face, kissing his way from your cheekbone down to your jawline. He was being even more affectionate than usual and if you hadnât been so tipsy, you would have simply rolled your eyes and called the limo to come pick him up, but in your drunken state you went with it, smiling and tilting your head to the side to give him better access as he began trailing kisses down your neck.
âGod, I fucking love you.â he whispered against the column of your throat.
This made something snap inside of you and you turned towards him completely, all inhibitions gone, and pressed a rough off-center kiss to his lips. You pulled away to catch your breath, only for him to place a hand on the back of your neck and pull you into another kiss, this time biting your bottom lip and coaxing your mouth open with his tongue.
You let out an involuntary moan when his tongue made its way into your mouth as his other hand gripped your waist, his surprisingly cold fingers sending chills down your spine as they slipped under the hem of your shirt. The sudden chill snapped you back to reality and you pulled away from him, both of you gasping for breath.
He tried to move in for another kiss but you pushed him away and reached for your phone, squinting through your double vision as you texted the driver to come pick you both up.
The next morning was hell. You woke up in your bed with a killer hangover and a fuzzy memory of the events that took place the previous night. You lied in bed with no intent on moving, all the while cursing yourself for forgetting to close the blinds the night before as the blinding sunlight hit your face and made it impossible to go back to sleep.
Finally after 45 minutes of making an odd groaning sound and internally screaming at the top of your lungs, you decide to at least get a glass of water and take something for the goddamn headache pounding against your skull. Crawling out of bed, youâre immediately hit with a sudden wave of nausea and find yourself on the floor huddling close to the trashcan.
The faint memory of kissing someone makes its way into your mind.
âDid I kiss someone? Who did I kiss? Okay, what the fuck?â  You squeezed your eyes shut and focused on the small details trickling into your mind as  you held the trashcan tighter. You remember dancing and at one point grinding against some tall muscular guy with tattoos; that was normal. You remember sitting on a leather couch with someone next to you, and finally, you remember making out with someone, which wasnât out of the ordinary for drunk you. Probably another random stranger if not the one you had been dancing with, but something was bothering you. A little voice in the back of your head was telling you that it wasnât some random stranger.
A new memory hit you. A hand running up your thigh, the taste of tequila on his lips, soft brown hair and blue eyes, cold fingers dancing along your skin. Harry Osborn. Oh fuck, you made out with Harry. Worry filled your body and increased your nausea, making you bring the trashcan even closer. From what you can remember, the kiss had been sloppy but somehow insanely satisfying and you found yourself wanting to do it again. Really, really bad.
Okay, no. that kind of shit is off-limits. You canât start getting feelings for your best friend. It would put your friendship on the line if he found out, you just couldnât risk that. The realization hit you that there was absolutely no way in hell that this was going to end well and you nearly threw up right then.
Letting out a pained groan, you leaned back, accidentally bumping your head on the wall behind you which only worsened the throbbing headache in your skull. Tenderly rubbing the back of your head, you squinted at the digital clock on your bedside table: 11:46 AM. Odd. After a night of drinking, you usually didnât wake up until well into the afternoon and you couldnât help feeling that you were supposed to be going some where.Â
You decided to just stay cooped up in your apartment for as long as possible to prolong having to deal with the awkwardness if Harry did remember what happened. âYeah, just wait it out. Thatâs good. I can totally do that.â Next time you see him, you probably wonât have a hangover and itâll be easier to deal with everything. Then it hit you:
Itâs Sunday.
 You and Harry always meet up for lunch at noon on Sundayâs. You couldnât just cancel on him, if you tried to use your hangover as an excuse, heâd just call you a lightweight insist that you meet at the little cafe you always go to. âThereâs literally no getting out of this.â
The cafe was a small and quaint little place owned by Dorine, a kind old woman who knew you both by name. The tiny restaurant was staffed by Dorineâs grandchildren along with a few of their friends. It was so humble and unassuming compared to the bustling New York life that  most could walk past without a second glance, perfect for when you and Harry wanted to talk and spend time together without some paparazzi sticking a camera in your faces.
You found your regular booth near the back and sat down. Your head was still throbbing and though your stomach was empty, the nausea hadnât ebbed a bit. A quiet groan escaped your lips and your nervousness increased. You replayed the memories of last night through your mind and found yourself focusing on how it felt to kiss him. The feeling of his hands sliding up your thighs and his soft lips pressed roughly to yours. Heat rose to your cheeks and you buried your face in your hands before running your fingers through your hair with an exasperated sigh.
âYou got a hangover too?â Harry slid into the seat across from you and rested his elbows on the table, pulling off the hood of his jacket and taking off his sunglasses that were used for both avoiding paparazzi and nursing the intense hangover that only got worse once he was out in the bright sunlight.
You nodded your head and glanced up at him before averting your gaze. âOh god here it comes. He probably remembers it and, dear lord, he probably regrets it.â . Finding yourself unable to make eye contact with him, you looked around the cafe. There were only two other customers right now; a single father and his daughter enjoying a quiet lunch together on the opposite side of the restaurant.
It was silent for a moment before Harry cleared his throat.
âI gotta stop drinking so much. I canât remember a single damn thing from last night.â He laughed and looked up at you, waiting for a response. The weight of your nervousness lifted at the news that he didnât remember what happened and you perked up, smiling back at him. âYeah, I think we both overdid it.â âOh thank fuck he doesnât remember. Maybe my life isnât over after all.â
Before he could say something else, Dorine came up to your table and offered a warm grin. âYou want the usual, darlings?â
Harry gave you a questioning look and you shook your head. âNo, I donât think either of us are up for eating anything right now.â He said, turning to look at the old woman. âJust, uh, two glasses of water though. Weâre still nursing our hangovers from last night.â He admitted sheepishly. She tsked and shook her head like a mother would do to her child before walking away to get your drinks.
You fidgeted in your seat and refused to make eye contact with Harry as he tried to make conversation with you. This went on for a bit before he finally got tired of it and leaned closer to you, his chest pressing against the table.
âYour acting kind of weird. Did something happen?â his look was of pure concern and your heart ached at the thought of lying to him. You had to tell him.
âGoddamn it. Can I not catch a break?â Â You closed your eyes and sighed, trying to think of the best way to phrase what you were about to say before looking back up at him, meeting his gaze this time.
âI um, well we- uh. I just- Damnit.â you dropped your head onto the table with a thump and pulled at your hair in frustration. When you look back up at Harry, he was watching you with a mix of deep concern and slight amusement as he waited for you to form a coherent sentence.
You thought of how many ways you could word what you were about to say while not making it sound like you wanted to pin him against a wall and kiss him breathless; which you really wanted to. âFuck it, here goes nothing.â
âOkay so, we got really drunk last night. Like really, really drunk.â you paused and pursed you lips before continuing. âWhen we were drunk, you told me that you loved me and then we kinda kissed. Not like a normal kiss, but more like we made out and I know it doesnât mean anything to you because we were drunk, but for some reason I canât stop thinking about it and I really donât know how to act around you now because all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you again.â
You heart was nearly beating out of your chest as your knee bounced rapidly underneath the table due to the sheer amount of nervousness wracking your body and none of it was doing anything to help your godawful headache.
Harry stared at you in bewilderment for several seconds, his mouth moved to talk but nothing came out causing you to groan in exasperation, immediately regretting that you had said anything in the first place. Leaned forward agains the table and pinched the bridge of your nose. âListen, I know itâs weird. I value our friendship more than anything in this world, and I donât want to ruin it. So can we just pretend I never sai-â before you could finish your sentence, Harry leaned across the table and closed the space between the two of you, connecting his lips to yours.
You let out a small yelp in surprise and it took you a moment to realize what was happening, eventually returning the kiss and adjusting your angle so that it was more comfortable. This kiss was a lot less sloppy and more timid than the one last night, both of you being sober and incredibly nervous. Harry smiled into the kiss and tentatively brought his hand up to the back of your neck.
You were about to take the initiative to deepen it when someone next to you cleared their throat.
Pulling away from each other, you turned to find Dorine with a glass of ice water in each hand and a grin on her face. âGosh, itâs about time. I was beginning to think you two would never do it. My two grandkids and their friends have even started placing bets.â she shook her head and placed the glasses on the table between you and Harry before walking away.
Harry reached across the table and held your hand. He hesitated before looking up at you. âI love you (y/n), I have for years. God, I canât believe it took me getting wasted and making out with you to give me the confidence to tell you that.â he gave you a genuine smile that told you he meant it.
The rest of your nervousness dissipated and you smiled in relief before leaning across the table and giving him a chaste kiss. âI love you, too.â
Bonus: Â
As you and Harry walked out of the cafe hand-in-hand, you saw one of Dorineâs grandsons reluctantly fish a 20 dollar bill out of his pocket and shove it at his friend who wore a victorious smirk. âI told you theyâd get together.â the boy said as he pocketed the money and gave the both of you a cheeky grin.
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